Chapter 3

Trish Connelly looked in the mirror hanging over the bureau in her bedroom and saw her map of Ireland face staring back at her blankly with her thoughts a million miles away and scattered like the dust bunnies under the kitchen table.

Sure, she had plenty of dough stashed in silly places because she didn’t trust banks and the paper trail her hidden wealth would leave for the Internal Revenue System to trace her illegal activities. She had an ass hole buddy accountant to help her with her “books” in her accidental escort business and a personal assistant of sorts to help her make logical decisions when all she really wanted was to have fun and enjoy life without harassment.

She had decided to branch out her business venture to include at least two more young girls with no future in front of them.

What she had in mind was a pair of clueless teenagers over eighteen with a laid-back attitude to renting out the use of their mouths, pussies and asses to the sex-starved males that seemed to be in all walks of life these days no matter where you went or did in a sex-oriented society that valued getting laid more than any other goal imaginable.

She had already determined the best marks were the unhappily married guys that drank too much and partied too much and were free with their hands and their wallets in search of instant gratification without any thought to the consequences of their hidden desires.

Trish was seated on the plush bench that tickled the back of her beautiful bare legs because the skirt was too short to cover her sensitive skin. She knew that only a few scant inches above the hem was the secret territory of her French undies and the perfumed feminine folds that helped her to afford her expensive lifestyle. She might be basically clueless when it came to current affairs or other mundane facts of life but she knew her income depended on her alertness in spreading her legs at the right moment and reaching a happy ending with a new-found ass-hole buddy sooner rather than later.

That was her simple business model and it had given her the stash of cash and an understanding of what made men tick better than most of the married women around her with drinking problems and a level of unhappiness that increased with every passing day.

Trish had put a lot of lubricant on her buried brown eye after her morning shower because the guy from the night before was totally anal oriented and he pestered her to put her ass up each time he was ready to do it again in the midnight hours. As usual, he was married and over forty and had three lovely children at home making his wife’s life miserable. A good wife that felt like life was passing her by and she had missed the fun she deserved because she had played by all the unspoken rules. A wife that kept her pussy only for her husband despite her wildness in her pre-marital days when she was a “hot number” with a lot of satisfied boyfriends and strange “one-night only” males with hard cocks and no conscience about her age or inexperience.

A knock on the door signaled the arrival of Betty and Veronica whom she had personally recruited from the horde of pretty young things that had shown up for the reality show “cattle call” down at the local TV station that was always looking for local talent to bolster their supply of available “blonde bimbos” to staff their projects for the summer season.

Well, only Betty was blonde and it was a sort of dirty blonde at best but she was easy on the eye and her boobs were corn-fed and needed no silicone to round out their appeal. Veronica was a brunette with long black hair that flowed down almost to the little dimple above her luscious ass crack inviting the adventure seekers to explore her regions below with full carnal attention. Betty was just eighteen and Veronica was a ripe old nineteen year old with dreams of stardom in her brain and an itch between her legs that had her humming “Girls Just Wanna have Fun” endlessly like it was some sort of ritual for her to spread her legs and smile for the camera.

In point of fact, Betty was still an anal virgin while Veronica had all sorts of adventures in sodomy that tied in with her attempts to break into the porn industry the old fashioned way with her ass up high and her face buried in a soft pillow to muffle her yelps of degradation as she was taken with close-ups of her sphincter’s losing battle against oversized cocks filled with oodles of juicy spunk.

It was obvious that Betty was still constrained by her conscience when it came to giving up the secrets of her rear door entrance but she could be convinced to surrender her vagina if she was under the influence of spirits or had another girl to encourage her to sin and hide the guilt by reminding everyone that she wasn’t “that kind of girl” despite her tingles that she did her best to explain away as just her “nerves” and not the orgasm that showed her innocent routine was no more than a well-practiced act.

The two girls worked well as a team and they were not in the least bit embarrassed by their close contact working on a single client without losing any wasted energy in reaching their goal of a satisfactory happy ending.

Trish could see the differences in the girl’s personalities and she knew they would do better by splitting up and working one on one with a client with immediate needs. They shared an apartment together and she suspected they probably only had one bed and cuddled in the midnight hours when the light were turned down real low and the moaning and whimpering was at a fever pitch. Well, that was their business and she was not the type to interfere in anything that was not impacting her directly.