Part 2 – Holly’s Story

Holly; a call girl; 28 years old, five foot four inches tall, with midback-length straight blonde hair and blue eyes.

My name is Holly ... Holler Holly most people call me ‘cause I guess I make a lot of noise when I have sex. I just love fucking and sucking! And when I’m with a guy I want him to know I’m having a good time too – after all if I’m not enjoying it, I won’t put my heart into what I’m doing!

I’m a call girl, which means I work out of my home through a “legitimate” temp agency. The agency, which is really a temporary employment agency for short term hiring, also runs a second business using a few of us girls to fill the needs a normal secretary won’t!

How it works is like this. A client, looking for someone to do more for them than typing and filing, calls the temporary agency. They, in turn, call one of us girls and tell us where and when to meet the client. The agency gets a cut for acting as the go-between, and we get the rest. It’s not a bad deal – at least I don’t have to walk the streets and get robbed or hassled by the police.

I wasn’t always a call girl like this. I was actually the daughter of wealthy parents. They disowned me though, after they found out I had been dating a 30 year old man when I was in high school. Paul would smoke weed with me and get some beer so we could party. Usually during our partying, I would get really horny and we’d end up fucking. My parents found out because I was cutting so much class to be with him.

Actually, in looking back at it all, I think I did a lot of it because I wanted to make them mad, to make them punish me, or at least recognize I existed. You see, both my mother and father were too wrapped up in their own worlds to acknowledge that they had a daughter.

My mother, in her high society women’s groups having her hoity-toity lunches and her shopping at all the high end stores. My father lived in his corporate world on the umteeth floor of a big impressive high-rise in his corner office surrounded by other suits. They spent the day discussing financial matters, business deals, and who they were going to take over next.

Needless to say, I never fit into either world and I pretty much grew up on my own. Oh sure, I had money and a nice place to live and all that, but I didn’t have the one thing all that couldn’t buy. I didn’t have love.

I moved in with Paul, who was the only one around to take care of me. He offered his apartment and love at first. Then, after awhile I found out the truth about him.

I was a naive 18-year-old spoiled rich girl back then. I didn’t know people could be so devious and underhanded. Paul appeared to be a kind Father figure, something I had been missing in my life and so I fell hard for him. I so wanted someone to love and to love me back that I didn’t see the signs until it was too late.

Paul was not who he claimed he was or who I thought he was as well. He turned out to be a controlling, egotistical, abusive tyrant of a man who kept me isolated and away from anyone unless he was right there with me. I wasn’t allowed to have any friends except the ones he permitted and even then I had to tell him everything that was said so he wouldn’t think I was talking about him. He routinely went through my emails and my cell phone. He was paranoid that I was always fooling around on him (I wasn’t) and plotting to leave him for someone else.

Then one day he brought a new twist into our relationship. We had gone to this guys apartment that Paul knew to score some weed. I don’t know where Paul knew this guy from but we went to his apartment together because he didn’t want to leave me at home alone.

Anyway, we get there and Paul tries the pot out to make sure it’s good quality. He gives me a hit or two just showing off for this friend. Then he goes to pay for it and comes up short of funds. Instead of buying what he can afford, he instead makes the guy another offer.

“I got half the money but you wanna work a deal for the other half?” Paul asked him.

“What did you have in mind?” the guy said.

“Well, I’ll let you fuck my girl here for the rest of the weed,” he said. I looked at Paul like he had just grew a second head! I couldn’t believe he had suggested something this outrageous!

“Is she any good?” he asked.

“You bet your ass! She’s the best fuck in town. And she’s a screamer too!” he said, joking with the guy. I was mortified! I turned beet red at his comment and stood there dumbstruck as the deal was finalized. I was going to be partial payment for the weed he wanted to get!

The dealer handed the bag of weed over to Paul and then he turned to me. He got this wicked grin on his face and I looked at him, horrified. His gaunt, pock-marked face had leathery skin and eyes larger than they should have been for his face.

He had what I can only assume as a feeble excuse for a beard although it looked more like a short haired dog with the mange. His hair was thin and falling out in small patches and when he smiled he showed yellow, crooked, and worn teeth with a few missing here and there.

“Paul, please!” I said turning to him. But he had made the deal and was more interested in the bag he hand in his hands than me.

“Hurry up and give him what he wants so we can get home. I wanna try this shit out for real!” he said, pushing me towards the dealer. I realized that there was nothing I could do. I hung my head and followed him into the bedroom while Paul stayed in the living room.

He shut the door and then pointed to the bed. “Get undressed,” he said simply. I stood there for a moment just looking at him, my feet unable to move. “I said get undressed, you little whore ... unless you want me to go out there and tell your boyfriend that you welched on the deal?” he repeated, pointing a thumb to the door behind him.

I knew that would be worse than just going through with fucking this dirtbag and getting it over with. So I slowly began to undress as he leered at me, smiling his crooked smile and licking his lips in anticipation.

I lay down on the bed and got ready to do what I needed to do. He quickly shed his clothes after watching me and climbed into bed. He crawled over the top of me and lay on top of me preparing to get what he was due.

To say that he stunk is an understatement. I don’t think the guy had seen soap since puberty! He reeked of sweat, gasoline, cigarettes, beer, and a few other odors I didn’t recognize. I almost puked after the first couple of whiffs of his stench.

I was able to keep down my lunch though, swallowing a couple times to settle my stomach. He push my legs apart And took hold of his cock getting ready to enter me. I closed my eyes and waited for him to penetrate me and I didn’t have to wait long.

I don’t know whether it was the drugs that caused his cock to shrink, or if he was just naturally small, but he slid easily into me even without lubrication. My pussy had some difficulty gripping him – you see Paul was a fairly large man and I had gotten used to him, so this needle-dick barely made an impression on me. But I guess the excitement and anticipation of finally getting laid was enough, because after a bit of huffing and puffing I could feel him getting ready to cum.

“I’m gonna cum now whore! I’m gonna cum all over that pretty face!” he said then he pulled out and shot his load onto my face and tits. His cum didn’t smell as it should either, having a strange acrid smell to it. After he finished the last spurt, he grabbed me by the hair and pulled me onto his tiny cock. “Suck it! Suck my cock clean, slut!” he growled.

I took him into my mouth, about gagging – and not from his size either! I licked and sucked his cock clean and then pulled back away from him. “There ... you got what you wanted for the deal. Now can I go?” I asked him.

“No I think I want some pussy for dessert!” he said reaching out to grab me. I’d had all of him I could take. I grabbed a lamp off the nightstand and swung for the fences, catching the sleaze right in his hooked nose and sending him rolling backwards over the bed howling in pain. I turned and ran out of the room and past Paul in my haste to get away from the whole scene.

I left Paul after that. I knew that I had to find some way to support myself – I wasn’t going back to him and I damn sure couldn’t go back home to Mommy and Daddy! I looked in the paper and found the ad for the temp agency and decided to see if they had anything I could do.

I began working as a cleaning lady, cleaning other people’s houses and offices. It paid just enough to keep me in a small apartment and keep food on the table, but not much more. I struggled to get by, but at least I wasn’t involved with the likes of Paul anymore. I even quit the booze and the drugs – mainly because I couldn’t afford them!

I worked as a cleaning lady for about a year when one of the other girls in my cleaning crew told me of a way I could earn more money. I had been complaining about always scraping by and never seeming to have enough money – by the end of the month I was down to eating Ramen noodles for dinner! She told me to go to the office and ask for Lisa ... that Lisa would show me how to make more money. The next day, I went in a little early to work to talk to this Lisa person.

“Lisa?” I said, knocking on her office door.

“Yes, come in,” came the reply.