Chapter 2

Now living in Germany, our heroine can’t stop thinking about earning some pin money.

It was ten years since my adventures as a college girl at Wayne State in Michegan. Three of us were shocked when a girl from another floor in our dorm was arrested for prostitution. It seemed like it would have been smarter for her to do her business across the nearby border in Canada. The more we talked about it, the more curious we became about what it was like to be a prostitute - and well, there was the money. Finally, we set up shop in a motel in Windsor, Canada.

That was nine years ago. I’m 28 now, married, and stationed with my businessman husband in Germany. Before the pandemic, I had made friends with another American girl, Kayla, who is single and about my age. We often met for lunch, and chatted about this and that, her boyfriend, my husband, news, politics, etc.

One time, we were eating outside at a local café and we watched a pretty young woman in a very tight, very short skirt, and net stockings approach a man seated alone a few tables away. We couldn’t hear what they said to each other, but she was sitting way too close to him. Then they wandered off together.

“Prostitute,” Kayla said, as if that was the most normal thing in the world.

“Really?” I replied. I was new to the country and had a lot to learn.

“It’s legal here, and it’s everywhere,” Kayla added. She went on to explain that there were many ways sex is marketed, everything from street walkers to brothels, all legal. “In fact, there’s a brothel over on Danziger Straße.”

“I never knew,” I exclaimed.

“Did you ever wonder what it is like to, you know, have sex for money?” Kayla asked after a few moments.

I started to lie, but what the heck, why not tell her. “You have to keep this a deep dark secret,” I began. She nodded, and I told her all about the Canada thing. “I never told my husband. I never told anybody.” And then I felt my panties getting damp.

“Some of the girls here are actually married, earning secret pin money,” she teased.

“Well I kinda like being married and I’d like to keep it that way.” But now it was my turn to tease, “What about you? Curious?” I watched her turn beet red. “Oh my!”

“I don’t know. I suppose. I guess it’s the ultimate casual sex. No commitments. No breakups, But never as far as you went!” she offered. We let the subject drop, though it hung in the air for the rest or our meal.

It was a couple weeks later when Kayla broached the subject again. “I’d do it if you would,” leaving “it” to my imagination.

But it didn’t take long for me to figure it out. “Kayla!?!? Really!?!? ... Oh my god! ... Do you even know what to do?”

“Maybe you just advertise? Like on the web?” she pondered.

That’s what we did in Canada, but I wasn’t about to have my naked, married body showing up in hubby’s colleagues’ searches. “I don’t know. Besides, there’s a whole system, isn’t there?”

We agreed it would be a lark just to research the system even if nothing ever happened. We found all the web sites, but like I said that was out. Then there were plain old brothels where the men come in and the girls line up hoping to be picked; it sounded like a slave auction to me, though I guess you could schedule a girl over the web. Then there were the places called FKK which somehow stands for nudist colony; the girls prance around naked for eight hours, the guys hang around with a towel around the waist, and the girls offer bare oral sex and intercourse’s with a condom pretty much in pubic; that lacked a certain appeal.

In our fantasy minds we settled on simple bars with arrangements for special services. You had to rent a room from the bar owner and stick to their pricing. Girls apparently sit around and take turns approaching the marks that wander in and buy a drink. The best part was you didn’t have to advertise.

“We could offer threesomes so we could stay together and not be so nervous,” I suggested. That had worked pretty well in Canada.

“I’ve never been in a threesome,” Kayla objected.

“Ever fool around with another girl?”

“No. Never.”

“You kinda might have to put on a little show for the guy ... Were you ever curious about that?”

“Well, yeah. But I was too shy to suggest it to anybody.”

“There’s always a first time,” I answered lamely. We agreed to take the afternoon off from our jobs a couple days later and wander over to her apartment after lunch.

I wasn’t sure how I would keep my secret from my husband but his company must have been reading my mind. In the middle of all this, he was assigned to a job in France for a couple months.

I could tell Kayla was excited when we met for lunch - the way she sipped her wine, the way she looked at me, the way neither of us had much to talk about. “I can’t wait,’ was really all she said. I was pleased. I had expected her to be more reluctant.

As the door closed, she turned and looked at me. She was actually shaking. “I don’t know what to do.”

I pulled her close and we began a deep sensuous kiss. “Just do what comes naturally,” I muttered between kisses. I resisted saying just do what a man would do to me except the penis, but she caught on. Her hands came up to my breasts squeezed gently. I reached across to her own firm girls. Then we worshipfully unbuttoned each others’ blouses and reached behind to unclip the bras. Everything from the waist up landed on the floor. I moaned when she twiddled my nipples and moaned even more when she suckled each one.

That allowed me to unzip Kayla’s skirt on the side. It too fell down and I saw she had on the cutest little blue thong with tiny white flowers printed on it. But she quickly shoved them down. “I can’t believe how much I want to try this,” she exclaimed as she backed up onto the sofa dragging me along.

I had some catching up to do clothing-wise and pulled my own skirt and panties down as I knelt between Kayla’s open legs. I took my turn licking and sucking her nipples as my fingers played on her smooth, hairless pussy. She must use a depilatory, I thought. It seemed like her orgasm began as soon as I started rubbing her pussy lips and she groaned loudly when I found her clit in the wet folds of her sex. I rewarded her by pushing my fingers in while I sucked as hard as I could on her tit. Her body was thrashing about when I moved down to lick between her lips. Suddenly, she squirted all over my thrusting hand, something I’d never seen another girl do. Then she fell silent, out of breath.

I licked Kayla’s delicious juices off my hand as I waited to see if she would fall asleep instead of taking care of me. She quickly broke from her trance, pulled me up onto the sofa, and sat me next to where she had been. “I hope I do this right,” she said, going straight for my pussy. Her tongue pushed into my folds and lapped at my clit. For someone who’d only been on the receiving end, she didn’t need coaching. As my climax built, she pushed her face into my sex, and I felt her tongue playing inside me. Her thumbs pulled my lips apart and rubbed my clit while her tongue slid in and out. I was just hoping the sounds of my moans weren’t being heard in the hallway outside her door.

We put robes on and went to her kitchenette/dining room, where we polished off a bottle of Gewurztraminer with cheese and crackers. As she sipped the last of the wine, she blurted out, “Let’s do that again!” We ran giggling into her bedroom and flopped on the bed. She ravished my body with her fingers and tongue til my belly muscles ached from contracting so often. Kayla’s reaction to my attentions was more subdued this time. “Yes, yes, yes. So good. Don’t stop. So good,” until she squirted in my mouth and all over my face again.

When we finished, we got dressed and sat down to do some planning. We would need to buy some clothes that we wouldn’t want to show our men. We should probably find a locker to rent. I had read that girls needed lubricant in case they had too much business and wanted to keep going, and extra panties, and satchels to carry everything. Then we got online in private mode and searched out bars on the other side of the city, trying to psych out the desirable ones.

We planned to go shopping the next week and find a locker. One of the promising bars we visited was willing to rent us a room on a day to day basis and put us on the schedule for whenever we were ready. We had to strip for the owner before he OK’d us, but at least he didn’t ask for sex. In fact, it seemed like the most boring thing he could look at was two naked ladies. I guess that goes with the territory. Maybe he was just making sure we weren’t trannies.

Then we started hearing rumors about a virus. The country shut down. Europe shut down. Publicly available prosecution came to a halt. Months went by. A year. Hubby worked from home, staring at his computer all day and some nights. It was 2021 before we got vaccinated and went on our shopping trip.

Hubby got an assignment in Spain that would keep him away for a couple months. Our moment had arrived. The bar owner was eager to accommodate us as because things had opened up. Too many girls were still scared or had gone back to their countries in eastern Europe. He was cool with our threesome idea. We arranged to start the next afternoon.

On our big day, I met Kayla for an early snack at a nearby café and wandered silently down the block to the bar, satchels in hand. We got there just before the bar opened - around noon for a late lunch crowd. We paid for our room, changed into our “business” clothes, put our street clothes in a locked cabinet and walked nervously back to the tap room. A girl we hadn’t seen before was leading a man down the hall carrying a tall cocktail. She must have already been in back getting dressed when we had arrived.