Part 2

I'm a whore, I don't deny it. I fuck people for money. Oh, sure, technically you might think of me as a call-girl, but in reality a call-girl is just a whore with a telephone and an answering service.

Mike and I had just finished settling up accounts for the week and I was on my knees with my lips wrapped around Peggy's clit. She was Mike's wife, receptionist and partner, and was the one who scheduled all of our out-calls to the various Vegas hotels. My eating her out was sort of like a cab driver tipping his dispatcher for assigning him to a big clean car, or a waitress tipping a maitre d' for giving her a table of high rollers. I could see Peggy keep looking up at the clock and wondered what the fuck was her big rush, because I was really enjoying myself; she loved to have her cunt eaten and I thought she was enjoying herself also. My tongue, curled to simulate a cock, drove into her cunt, and I drank in her juices. She didn't wait to cum. With one last look at the time, she pushed my face off her snatch and reached for the intercom.

"Mike, I'm worried. Starr's been there for nearly ten minutes and she hasn't called in or sent his picture over her new cell phone." Just because we were whores didn't mean that we were stupid; we took security seriously, very, very seriously. Mike took good care of his girls.

Mike ran out of his office. "Which hotel, which room, what's the guy's name?" After Peggy gave him the information, Mike said, "Dave Kelly is head of security there; call him and tell him to get to that room, that I'm on my way."

"I'm going with you."

He looked at me. "No, you're not."

"She's my lover, damn it. You can't stop me. Do I have to take a cab?"

"Okay, but stay back, it could get rough."

He drove like a maniac, aided by the illegal police light on top of the car and the illegal blaring siren. We were there in ten minutes, to the room in another five. The door was ajar and Mike pushed it open. Starr was sitting in a chair, in tears, under a blanket, her clothes in tatters on the floor, a bruised eye and bloody face. The John was sitting in another chair, surrounded by Dave Kelly and two other brawny security men. This Dave had some nice build. I briefly wondered how he was hung, then blanked it out of my find. You already know that I prefer women. Still...

I wanted to go to Starr and hug her, comfort her, let her know that she was safe. But first I opened my purse, took out my knife and went straight for the John. Mike grabbed me, picked me up bodily and deposited me next to Starr. He barked at the John, "What the fuck happened?"

The prick said nothing, but Starr spoke in sobs. "This fucker wanted to go into me raw and when I told him no, he slapped me around and then he raped me."

Mike started to breathe through his nostrils, like a bull. "Did he cum inside you?"

"No. These guys got here first. His cock just shriveled up when he heard them at the door."

Mike looked around and saw the bolt cutter that the security men had used to cut the door chain. He picked it up, opened its jaws and pointed it at the John's groin. When the John went into a fetal position to protect his family jewels, Mike closed the jaws on the cutter and with one hard swing, broke the bastard's jaw and nose. As he fell to the floor, his hands now at his face, I stepped forward and kicked him in the balls with all my strength.

Dave started to give orders to his men. "Send his picture to all the hotels in town. Take him to a hospital and say that he hurt himself falling down. His jewelry and cash go to Starr, the suitcase and clothes go to Goodwill."

After his men took the prick out, I went to Dave. "Starr is very special to me. I owe you for getting here so quickly. Let me reward you." With that, I reached for his zipper.

Dave smiled. "That's not necessary; I owe Mike more than you can imagine."

I persisted. "But I want to do this for you."

He sighed. "Take her home, take care of her. When she feels better, then I wouldn't mind if you called me."

I stood on my tip-toes to kiss his cheek. I opened my purse and gave him three condoms. "Save them for me."

We took Starr down through the service elevator; no sense in all the gawkers seeing her beaten up the way she was. Mike drove us to our apartment. Starr and I had been living together for a number of months. The doorman looked shocked when he saw her, and offered to help. "She's ok, she just fell down. Someone will deliver her car tomorrow; please have it put in the garage." Guy dreams about fucking good looking girls; giving him a little chore keeps his hopes up. Someday I would ask Starr if she gave cash or blowjobs to the building staff for Christmas presents. I cleaned Starr up and put ice on her swelling, then put her to bed.

Her pussy looked just a little bruised. It seemed to need a kiss, and I obliged. Then I kissed her mouth and told her to get some sleep.

I called the office. "Mike, that guy has to be punished. We can't let him get away with it."

"Relax, Ginny. Do we really want to have him arrested and get the police involved? They'd have no choice but to close us down, despite all the money we give them. He'll be punished enough when he tries to explain to his wife how he lost his wedding ring and everything else. He'll try to lie his way out of it, but his wife will know. First thing in the morning, I'm going to call his wife at his house and all I'll say is "Don't believe whatever he tells you.' Then I'll hang up. She'll cut his balls off. Look, there are no big conventions in town; why don't the two of you take a week off and go to Long Beach?"

I told him that I would talk to Starr about it in the morning. We had a second bedroom, although we never ever brought any customers to the apartment. It would be better if Starr slept alone, so I used it, though as it turned out, I didn't get much sleep. I tossed and turned, worrying about Starr, although I knew that even if she decided to quit the business, my pussy could bring in enough to support us both. I thought about Mike's suggestion that we spend time with Dennis and Jean, my best customers and good friends. And I couldn't get Dave out of my mind.

In the heat of the moment, my mind had concentrated on Starr and on the prick who had hurt her. But now my memory brought back Dave's picture. He was about six foot five, broad shouldered, with a cowboy's sunburn. He was in his early forties and his dark brown hair had just the very beginnings of gray creeping through. The cool way he had handled the whole affair suggested far more experience than his age allowed for. I had given him the rubbers because I had wanted to thank him, as I said, but in the cold light of the approaching dawn, I realized that I wanted to fell his cock inside every hole of my body.

My mind was a jumble. I had hated men since my eleventh birthday, the day my scum bag of a father broke both my cherries, front and back. I only fucked guys for money or for some other benefit, not for fun, not for lust, surely never for love. Oh, yeah, I did like some of the Johns, but that was only a fringe benefit of my job; if they didn't pay, I didn't get on my back or knees for anybody. Dave was no exception; the way he handled the assault on Starr was just his unknowing payment in advance for the pleasure of my body.

Only it wasn't just my mind getting ready to pay a debt. My pussy was leaking at the idea of Dave's cock buried inside one of my holes, actually all of them. I looked at the wall separating the two bedrooms, picturing Starr sound asleep. I loved that woman far beyond my ability to articulate it. Although I had never mentioned it to her, I often fantasized about flying to Canada, now that they had changed the law, and getting married to her. Canada is closer than Massachusetts. That would be so cool. So why was my pussy all of a sudden wet for a cock? I was used to cocks several times a night, but my orgasms around a cock were always either faked or self induced. Was it just the excitement of the moment last night?

I had to get myself off. One hand dove into my cunt, rubbing the clit, while the other twisted my nipples, far too hard for enjoyment. Behind my closed eyelids, I saw Starr's mouth gently sucking my nipples; the soft feel made me relax, changing my twisting motion to mere feathering. Then the picture slowly changed; Starr's image became a dim memory, though her touch on my breasts remained. The scene changed to one of Dave standing between my outspread legs, his cock pounding me without mercy as I screamed a series of orgasms, the pounding ceasing only when I felt his cum shoot into my cunt and then slowly seep out to leak down my ass cheeks. I reached to pull his face down to mine, our lips parting as my tongue searched frantically for his tonsils. I never did cum.

Instead, I sat bolt upright, my eyes wide open, although in the darkness guaranteed by the black-out shades, they saw nothing. Kissing a man? Taking his cock into me raw? What the fuck was I thinking? The only man I did that stuff with was Dennis, who was certifiably clean, whose wife would kill him if he fucked anyone except one of Mike's girls, who with his wife were my absolute best customers and good friends. When I thought about raw cum, I usually thought about my father, rotting in prison. I wondered again, 'What the fuck was I thinking?' I slept, fitfully, until Starr came into the room sometime in the afternoon and opened the shades to let the sunshine spill onto me.

Only the sky was overcast. The sunshine was Starr's smile beaming down at me. I smiled back. "You don't look so bad this morning. How do you feel?"

"Not bad, just a few aches and pains, nothing serious. Why don't you move over and make some room there for me?" We snuggled and our lips met, a contact halfway between chaste and passionate. Our eyes locked, just inches apart; someone standing over us could actually have seen the love flowing back and forth between us.

"Would you really have used your knife on that guy last night if Mike hadn't stopped you?"

"Only on his cock."

I felt her hand searching under the covers, and spread my legs to assist her, to receive her fingers inside me. When my hand moved to her, she stopped me. "No, I just want to take care of you today, my darling." Her kisses became more passionate. My pussy lips folded back like petals as she drove into me; my juices flowed like water, no, like love nectar, like honey. I felt my heart thumping and worried about hers.

"Are you sure you're ok, my angel?"

Her silence was a beautiful answer; her lips were by then occupied on my nipples. I pressed her head to my breasts as her fingers searched for and hit my g-spot, making me squirt like a fountain. The bed sheets were soaked, and neither of us noticed or would have cared. As I started to scream, she pressed her lips to mine, her tongue polishing my teeth. When my orgasm ended, I lifted her face off mine, then brought it back so that I could kiss her closed eyes.

Instead of letting me come down from my cum, she moved her mouth back to my clit and began to suck. Once I had cum a second time, she let me loose and we lay there, again staring at each other. After telling her how much I loved her, I told her about my masturbation to Dave's image. We had no secrets. She smiled; the few years she had on me gave her some deep insight.

"In answer to the question you haven't asked, no, I'm not jealous. At least, not of him. I am a little jealous of you, because he is such a hunk. You forget that while you may hate men, I still like them. I love you, but a hard cock beats a vibrator or dildo any time. When I fuck a guy, I really do cum. I'll never marry one; I'd rather marry you. But who says we can't use men just for sex objects? I used to love to do Dennis and Jean together before they decided to give you the exclusive. He has the tastiest cum. So call Dave and go fuck him blind. Don't let him into you bareback, he knows better than that, but fuck him well. There is nothing a guy likes better than to fuck a whore for what he thinks is free. And I do owe him, and I thank you for wanting to pay my debt for me."

I kissed and hugged her, and of course I cried. How could I not cry after what she said about marriage?

"Let's go to Canada."

"Why?"

"You said you wanted to marry me. They just passed a law making it legal up there."

Then it was her turn to cry, and like two virgin schoolgirls, we began to plan our wedding. Dave was forgotten for hours. Then Starr felt tired again, and I tucked her back into our bed. I called Dave; he asked about my lover. "She's pretty good, but still exhausted from the ordeal. I just put her back to sleep, but she said that if I have anything better to do, she doesn't need a baby-sitter. Do I have anything better to do?"

The trip back to his hotel took forever, what with traffic and all. My panties were soaked by the time I got there, aided possibly by the one-handed rubbing I did, surreptitiously, at each red light. At least I hoped the people in the other cars couldn't see what I was doing. At the hotel, he rushed me up to a vacant room; although I was used to Johns being in a hurry to get laid, Dave's haste made me feel womanly, not whorish. But in my business, you get jaded enough to think that the two words are synonymous. I didn't mind the haste, because I was still on call. One beep from Peggy and I'd be out of there. While I could afford the night off, I was still a unit of inventory for Mike and Peggy, and they made no money if I sat on the shelf.

In the room, I quickly dropped to my knees to open and remove his pants. I was pleasantly surprised to see that he was already wearing the first of the condoms I had given him. He sat on the bed and my mouth was on him instantly, an anxiety that shocked even me. (Oh, Starr, my lover, why do I so crave this cock in my mouth?) There was no kissing of the head, no licking along the bottom; with a condom, there was a loss of sensation in those actions anyway. My hand went under his crotch to caress his nuts while my head raced up and down on his pride and joy like Woody Woodpecker. His hand was on the back of my head, but that was merely symbolic, for I was controlling the speed. It wasn't long before he grunted, it rarely is, and I felt the cum creating and filling a little sac at the tip of the rubber, a sac that changed shape continually as my tongue teased it from the outside.

I sat back on my heels and realized that I was still fully dressed and that Dave was missing only his slacks and under-shorts. It felt like the back seat of a car in my junior high school days, back when I was still giving it away for free. That didn't last long. "Thank you, Dave."

"Why are you thanking me? You're the one who gave me this nice present."

"I'm thanking you because you gave me this huge delicious piece of meat for me to use to pay what I owe you."

He looked confused, and I was confused by his confusion. Then I realized my words, and laughed. "I didn't mean 'paid in full'. Relax, the evening is young."

But it wasn't. A half hour later, we had changed positions, Dave on his knees at the side of the bed, me with my denim skirt above my waist, his face buried between my wish-boned legs. My thong was safely tucked into my purse. His lips worked my clit the way only a woman knows how, and as he slid his finger into my ass"shit, he wasn't wearing a condom or glove on that hand"the cannons exploded in my head, lights flashing behind my eyes. This was what a clit lives for. Suddenly, I realized that the cannons were the 1812 Overture from my cell phone.

It was Peggy. After asking about Starr's well-being, she asked how quickly I could meet a John.

"I'm in the middle of repaying Dave for rescuing Starr last night."

"He'll have to wait. We have a repeat customer, a high roller. The casino is paying. Wear a business suit, short skirt, lacy blouse. You'll be with him most of the night. Blow job, dinner, show, rub his back at the crap table, roll the dice for him when it's his turn, then fuck when he's ready. The tip will depend on how well he does at the table. Dave will understand."

He did, of course. Only as I left, he reached around me to pull me toward him and kissed me, deeply. And so help me, I kissed him back. What the fuck was I doing?

"Call me again. I have two condoms left."

My head spun. "I know. I'll call." I meant it too.

On the way back to the apartment, my head was all business, going over the inventory in my closet and drawers, how long it would take to shower, how far the hotel was, etc. Starr was still asleep, so I left a note.

"On the job. Peggy has details. I love you." I signed it 'your blushing bride.'

When I got to the John's hotel, the parking valet gave me a big smile hello; he knew by now who I was and how I earned the big tips I gave them. Up at the room, I almost passed out; it was Pete, one of the guys whose table I used to dance on in the Valley before climbing down onto his lap. He was a damn good tipper.

"Hi, maryjane, long time no see."

"I'm Ginny up here. What brings you to Vegas?"

"Remember those weekends once a month when I didn't show up at the club? Here I was, same suite as always. I wondered where you went"

"I came here when that big prick tried to stick a needle in my arm. I wasn't that crazy. The bastard still owes me a week's pay. Please don't tell him where I am."

"Don't worry, I'm here to gamble and fuck some anonymous whore. What was your name again?"

"Rosalita."

"Rosalita, baby, why don't you help me get my edge off and then we can get some dinner."

"You still like it the same way; balls in the mouth and a hand job till you're ready?"

"How do you know how I like it? I've never met you before."

Well, well, these Johns weren't all bad. I didn't even have to take off my jacket; with the rubber on, he wouldn't shoot all over me. I made fast work of his first cum, cleaned him off with a wash cloth and off we went to dinner. We ate in the hotel's gourmet room; top dollar, but neither of us cared. As we were led to our table, I took note of the other females in the room. The older ones were obviously wives, the younger ones either mistresses or whores. A few smiled at me"there are a lot of us in Las Vegas, but we're still a tight little sorority"and then shifted their eyes to appraise my escort, figuring out his net worth from his clothing, watch and rings. And demeanor.

The maitre d', captain and all the staff kissed our asses throughout the meal. They all knew him, and knew what I was, if not who. Pete's comp included all the tips, but he always tipped directly anyway; it made for excellent service. I drank champagne, a little too much, but Pete only sipped. He knew that alcohol made it difficult for his cock to stay hard, and it also dulled the senses at the crap table. He bet and tipped well enough there to know that the house men wouldn't cheat him, but neither would they tell him if he was making stupid bets. We caught the late show at the Mirage, a great show I had seen several times with different Johns. A shame that tragic accident closed it down.

Back in the casino, Pete concentrated hard as the dice rolled and caromed. Craps is a stupid game; sometimes the seven wins, sometimes it loses. Why can't they make up their minds? Pete bet all black chips, enough so that the table used two box-men. Whenever we changed tables, an extra box-man would sit down at the new table. Whenever he had a chance, he would rub my ass, sometimes through my skirt and at other times reaching under it to massage my butt cheeks, protected only by a thong. It was beginning to bother me, this business of treating me like a possession, but he had in fact bought most of me for the night, so I couldn't complain. It was actually the fact that anyone passing behind us could see what he was doing to me in public that shamed me. I leaned close to him and whispered.

"You're getting me hot. If you keep doing that, I'm going to grab you by the cock and take you upstairs right now." It worked; the table was hot, and he had no intention of walking away until the shooter sevened out. Once that happened, followed quickly by two more cold shooters, he colored out and we went upstairs to fuck.

He poured us drinks, then unceremoniously stripped and stretched out naked on the bed, arms and legs spread out like he was making snow angels. "Sit on me." I removed my jacket, blouse and bra, then moved my hands to the zipper of my skirt. "No, maryjane, leave your skirt and thong on."

"My name is Rosalita tonight, remember?"

"Oh, yeah, I forgot." But his look was wicked. I couldn't tell if he was threatening to tell my old boss where I was, but I had no way to bribe him. He might have been ready to ask me to take it in raw, but no fucking way would that happen; he'd take my knife into him raw first. Then he just smiled. That prick, wanting to show me that he could fuck things up for me, reinforced my feeling about hating all men. I took a deep breath and began to roll the condom onto his meat; it really wasn't a bad looking cock at all. When he didn't object, I knew that the crisis was over, at least for a while.

I climbed on to the bed, positioned my cunt above the circumcised head of his brain, moved my thong off to the side with one hand and slowly slid down onto him. Most guys like to go in slowly, so long as it's not too slow. My skirt, which was too tight to really spread out too much as a cover, was really uncomfortable and I hiked it up over my waist. Who knows what turns some guys on? As my cunt engulfed his fuck-stick, the walls spread to receive and welcome him until he was fully seated. At that point, I supported myself by placing my hands on either side of his head and he began to suck on my nipples.

I moved up and down on him, slowly but regularly, sometimes balancing precariously on one hand as I kneaded his balls with the other. This went on for the better part of twenty minutes, the ice melting and watering down the scotch which he sipped from time to time. He grunted, no, barked out a command. "Speed it up now, Rosalita." Ah, I thought, his power trip is finished. My hips revved up; the increased speed changed the angle of entry slightly, causing his cock to rub my clit, but not enough to even tempt me to cum. I rode him like a bucking bronco until he moaned and I felt the condom swell with his discharging cum. I backed off him and set on my heels at his feet, watching his cock slowly shrivel back down to normal.

"You're as good as ever, Pete."

"You too, baby."

Two animals passing in the night, exchanging lies with no expectation that they would be believed. He had fucked me enough times over the years so that he didn't even get excited at the idea of my taking off his condom and cleaning him up, so he went to the bathroom and did it himself. In the meantime, I took off my skirt and thong; it was a good suit and I didn't want it torn or stained when we continued the night. I assumed it would be an attack on my asshole.

Sure enough, this little whore knows her customers. What the fuck, it wasn't that difficult to figure out. It was my only unused hole, and any guy who can get it up three times in one night always uses my holes in that order. It only took Pete fifteen minutes to think that he was ready again, though it took a little longer for him actually to get hard. He had me on my hands and knees and I felt his cock rubbing against the cheeks of my ass. Suddenly I froze; holy shit, he was raw.

"Pete, the condom!"

All motion stopped. I didn't breathe; I couldn't. All sound was gone, as though my ears were clogged. The earth continued to revolve on its axis, day, night, day, night, for all eternity, as the wheels turned in his mind and in mine. The perspiration poured off my body, making me glad that I had taken off the good skirt. Finally, "OK."

I was emboldened. "Don't scare me like that, Pete." He didn't answer; the prick wouldn't give me the courtesy of an apology. What could I expect anyway? I'm a whore. He put on the condom, but that's all he did for me. He shoved himself right up my chute, no lubrication, no fingers to open me up, just a mean cock intended to show me who was boss. Fuck you, Pete. I didn't wiggle, I didn't play with his nuts, I just let him do all the work. My mind left the room, went back to Starr, beautiful Starr, my lover. It jumped to Dave, no, fuck you, Dave, you're a man and ipso facto you're no fucking good.

Pete sensed my animosity and kept plugging away, pushing into me and holding my waist to pull me back onto his cock. He shot what felt like a weak load into the rubber, pulled out and collapsed alongside me, still on my hands and knees. He knew he had done wrong. He looked up at me. "I'm sorry, baby."

I glared down at him, but stayed silent.

"I really am sorry, Rosalita."

By then I knew that it was time to stop being an angry woman and become a forgiving whore. After all, he was a big tipper. "OK," I said, bending down to suck one of his nipples. I knew that, having just cum, he wouldn't be interested, and sure enough, he gently moved my head away. I flopped next to him. The tip was saved. We fell asleep.

Hours later, I woke up next to him and saw that he was still wearing the rubber used in my ass. His cock was hard; he obviously hadn't yet taken a morning piss. I wanted to rush back to the apartment to check on Starr, but I still didn't have the tip. I reached over and began to jerk him off, squeezing his balls while I worked. He woke, smiled, and pulled my head toward his crotch. "Suck it."

"Pete, that rubber's been in my ass."

"I forgot. Sorry."

I kept jerking as he held my face to his chest, feeling his heart beat at the same time as his cock throbbed the second load into the same condom. Boys and girls, remember, don't use a condom twice for anything except a hand job.

Pete smiled and said, "Let's take a shower."

I watched him as he rolled the condom off, dropped it into the toilet and unloaded a full night's worth of piss on top of it. It occurred to me that I could never swallow that much. He flushed, put the seat back down, and bowed toward me, waving one hand to offer me my turn at the bowl. I used it, glad that he didn't want any action in the bathroom. We showered, cleaning each other off but nothing more. As he dried me off, he knelt to do my snatch, then put his face against my stomach and hugged me around the ass. "I'm sorry about last night, baby, I really am sorry."

"Thank you, Pete. It's forgotten." Bullshit it was forgotten, but no need to tell him that. When I was dressed and ready to leave, he rummaged in a drawer and gave me a stack of black chips. I cashed them on the way out; not as much as I got from Jean and Dennis, but a good night's work, a damn good night's work. I wondered how much he would have given me as a tip if he knew that I had once spent the night sixty-nining with his wife. Or maybe his largesse was because he actually did know.

Back at the apartment, I found Starr up and about, scrambling eggs, her luscious body protected by nothing more than an apron, her naked ass cheeks wiggling like a hula dancer when she heard my voice say "You're looking ok this morning."

"Horny as ever." She turned off the burner.

"Let them get cold," I ordered, softly.

She led me back to the bedroom and knelt on her hands and knees on the bed while I took off my suit. She spread her legs to expose her snatch peeking out from below her ass cheeks. I twisted my head to kiss the inside of her thighs, then moved my lips to her cheeks as my hand reached in to tweak her clit. As my tongue diddled and then dove in to the puckered rear door, she screamed. Whether from fingers in front or tongue in back, I didn't know, but it was her fastest cum ever, at least with me.

"I needed that so badly. I love you, maryjane."

"And I adore you, Carrie." We used real names when we were alone; Mike and Peggy were the only ones in the business who knew those names. My lover rolled on to her back and I stretched out next to her. As we kissed, her fingers stole toward my cunt. I lifted her hand away and put it on my breast. Our kisses turned into mere touching of the lips, and we lay there for quite a while. The eggs eventually wound up in the garbage disposal.

Our reverie was broken by the cannons of my cell phone; it was Peggy. "Jean called, horny for some sweet pussy. She and Dennis want you for a couple of days. One word led to another and I told her that Starr needed some time out of this town, so you're both invited, a birthday present for Dennis Junior; he's fourteen."

"Peggy, we don't do jail bait."

"For Jean we do."

Jean was, is, a mega-gazillionaire, thanks to her grandfather; Dennis is her husband. She claims they are totally monogamous, with the exception of whichever girls Mike sends them. In my first visit to Long Beach, I called Jean a bull-shit artist when she bragged about Dennis' recuperative powers, and since then, I am the only one of Mike's girls that they want. Because of their monogamy, coupled with the prices they pay, Dennis fucks me raw. I actually like the taste of his cum; maybe it's because I never get raw cum into me otherwise. For no good reason, I began to wonder how Dave's cum would taste, and feel. Before me, Mike had rotated the girls there, because the tips were so good, but now they're all mine. Starr had been there before me, and they apparently liked her enough to accept Peggy's suggestion.