Z : Facing the World (and Getting Paid)
Copyright© 2017 by Mike Kaye
Chapter 14: Z writes an Ad
Fiction Sex Story: Chapter 14: Z writes an Ad - Z did not plan on becoming a prostitute. At 13, she becomes responsible for her younger sister. At 16 a VERY lucky boyfriend enters the picture. Sister issues arise. At 18, Z gets an offer she didn't refuse. She advertises and soon multiple clients come her way. Most are good people. A few are rich. Several clients are married couples.
Caution: This Fiction Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa mt/Fa Teenagers Consensual Heterosexual Fiction Wife Watching Sharing Sister Orgy Cream Pie Exhibitionism First Oral Sex Voyeurism
I’ve been seeing ads for Buy&SellOnline. For short it’s known as BS&O. (Hey, I know the ampersand is in the wrong place. But that’s what others write and say. I think it’s because of the BS part.)
I went to BS&O’s website looked around a bit until I saw the “personal service” heading. WSM meant Women Seeking Men. It really meant hookers seeking clients. Many of the ads featured bra size. 125EEE? [125cm is about 50 inches] Really? If that was for real she must be ready to tip over. Another ad, “Yes I Give a Fuck. Call me.”
Ads in 70 characters or less were free. User ID had to be short. A $5 deposit was required so that I could respond to responses to my ad. $0.50 each response.
Speaking to myself: Z, you can write a free ad. My login had to be short. I will be known as Z3. Those responding to ads had to pay. Contact sharing was not allowed on BS&O ads. That’s how they made their money. Ads were free. Responding to an ad cost money. ($0.50 for meet & greet info; $2.50 for phone numbers or email addresses in responses.) I never gave my contact information online.
My ad in 66 characters counting spaces: “Companionship short time or longer. 18yo. Make me want to see you.” The website added my ID. The ad automatically disappears after 3 days. But the revenue-producing ability to contact lasts forever. I can replace my ad once daily.
I checked my BS&O mail twice a day. On the day after my third posting, I got a response. Some religious nut paid in an attempt to save me from Hellfire. Delete. Next day I read a response from a pimp. I did not want to join the best posse on the island. Delete.
A few days later the BS&O message read: “Lunch Friday the 11th at the Beach Bristo on Drake Blvd. We talk and go from there. Please respond by Wednesday. -JIMI”
I responded: “I will be at their bar a little before noon reading a red book.”
Checking bus schedules ... Drake bus end of the line at restaurant 11:46. Route 12 bus arrives at Drake 11:30 Drake bus arrives 11:35. I walk to Route 12 to catch the bus at 11:14. (Ask for transfer) Need to leave the house before 11:00.
Beach Bristo is a tourist place. So dress like a tourist. Sundress, wear bra, panties and walking shoes. In bag: 2-piece swimsuit, thin sexy nightgown/panty set. I’m 18 so I can drink alcohol. I sit at the bar drinking our island’s locally produced German beer, Insel Deutsch Bier.
A casually dressed man, I guess he might be 40, says “Z3?”
“You must be Jimi. Call me Z. Let’s get a table. He finds a table with his eyes and signals the barkeep with “I’ll have what she’s having.”
He politely seats me and sits. “A proper introduction includes my real name, Mitch Phillips. Is Z really your name?”
“Actually it’s Zelda, but I have been called Z from before I can remember.”
The waitress brings his beer and a pair of menus. She also points to the Catch of the Day on the chalkboard. “Thank you [reading name tag] Mandy. We will wave when we are ready to order.”
I was a little nervous this being my first client from BS&O. I had only coffee and half a slice of pie for breakfast almost 5 hours ago. I selected the mid-price full lunch $14.95 Grilled mahi-mahi with tropical fruit salsa and rice.
He sees I have selected something. Waving at the waitress, he orders Macadamia-encrusted sea bass with the pasta salad. I say my order and now it’s time to talk.
In order to use BS&O one almost has to live on the island. I break the ice. “I have lived on our island for my entire 18 and one-half years. Are you also a native?”
“Almost. My parents came here from the US when I was ten. I graduated from North Island High, did a little Community college and ended up in the boat repair business. I was married ten years ago. But the marriage lasted just under two years. We are still friends, now smart enough to realize that we can’t live together.
I say, “I’m not the marrying type. So don’t expect anything long term other than a pay-as-you-go type relationship. And while we are on that subject, assuming that we get together after lunch what are your expectations?”
“You are not dressed for opera or anything like that. But there is a beach party featuring the Island Boys and One Girl. You are dressed for that. They start at 20:00 and run until about 22:30 or so. I could take you home after or you could spend the night at my place.”
Me thinking: Mitch Phillips. I think I’ve heard his name before. I need to call Fran.
“Mitch, could I excuse myself for a minute.” After I was out of Mitch’s sight I called Fran. She answered. I said, “No problem at all. Please do something for me quickly. Lookup Mitch Phillips and boat repair. Text me how much you guess he might be worth. Just a number but skip the last 4 zeros. I will call later on speaker and tease you for not answering this call. Play along. Thanks bye.”
I washed my hands as if I had used the bathroom. Just as I sat down our food was delivered. I commented, “This lunch looks good.” Then after my first bite, “This IS better than good. I tried to call my sister from the bathroom. Had to leave a voice message. I will try later.”
The food was too good to talk. Good thing, too. Finally, I got a text “1000+”. Now I knew how to set pricing. He will want to play before IB&1G. I could be back home in 12 hours. Call it 10 hours at $200. All night add 5 hours. This could be $3000.
Our noontime dinner came with a scoop of mango ice cream. While waiting I discussed business. “I charge $200 per hour. Assuming that all goes well I would love dinner and the Island Boys concert on the beach. Call it ten hours. I would feel bad to charge for being at the concert. If we both want all night I should leave before noon ... call it five more hours. I need to sleep. Please don’t try to keep me working all night. I would not be any good for you anyway.”
After his first spoon full of ice cream Mitch said, “I will love doing business with you. I like your ‘if all goes well’ words. Everything we do will be with mutual consent.” The bill came. He left $80. That was quite a tip for a bill only a little over $50.
As we left he got out his cell. A few seconds later, “We are done. Did you find what I asked? Good. Same place? Thank you.”
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