An Extra Session

"Wait for what?" Clearly, his idea of this deal was that we would get straight into the sex. It hadn't been discussed, so I suppose it was wishful thinking on my part when I thought I was going to have some time to prepare.

"Aren't you... You know, drawing me first? I'm still here to model, right?" As I said it, I realized how dumb it sounded.

He answered straight away. Again, I could tell that he had thought about this. "You will model for me afterwards. From now on, we will begin every session this way."

"Every session?" My voice suddenly sounded way louder. He sighed at me, but already began taking off his pants. His legs showed his age as much as his face did. Although I didn't know how old he was, I was confident with my guess that he was in his early fifties.

"Of course." The way he made this seem like something completely normal further distressed me. "I am paying you twice the normal amount. If you don't want to do this, you can still go home."

I lowered my eyes, and nodded quickly. "Okay then. On the sofa," I said softly, before sitting down in it myself. His movements quickened, and he hastily took off the rest of his clothes, revealing his own naked body to me for the first time after he had seen my own nudity several times a week for the past months. He made his way over to me, his erection jutting out about six inches from his dark pubic hair. I almost shuddered in disgust and turned, bending over so that I could lean against the arm rest.

Letting him take me from behind was a choice I made very consciously. I already felt myself getting emotional, and tears were welling up in my eyes. If I didn't have to face him during this, it wouldn't feel as personal, as intimate, as degrading. I'd simply be a bent over body to him, with a pussy to use for his own satisfaction. It wouldn't have to do with me as a person. And although I had always known that I was infertile, I was very glad that he had put on a condom. I was convinced that he hadn't had sex in many years and as such didn't have any diseases, but I knew we'd need the lubrication that this condom offered since I was not the least bit turned on. Furthermore, the mere thought of touching his cock disgusted me, and I was much more okay with the idea of it not directly touching my own most intimate, most precious areas.

I whimpered when I felt a prod against my pussy, and then he slid in, very slowly. His less than average girth would normally have been easy to deal with, but I was unable to relax my muscles down there. I was nervous, shivering, tense, and when he pushed into me, it hurt a great deal.

"Oh yes, you're so tight, Viona," he groaned.

He could not possibly have said a worse thing. I placed by elbows on the sofa's armrest, and pressed my hands to my face. My shoulders began jerking in quick, short movements, and when I felt his hands moving around my body to squeeze my breasts, my lower lip began quivering. I bit down on it, as hard as I could manage, and the taste of blood on my tongue came simultaneously with the feeling of tears against my hands. Twelve times, he moved his cock out, and back in. Twelve times, and then he groaned out and emptied years of pent up seed into the condom. Twelve times. I counted.

During the rest of the modeling session, I was worthless. I felt worthless. Every bit of self respect, every bit of dignity, every bit of integrity was shattered to pieces now. My pussy didn't really hurt afterwards, but there was a psychological pain that I simply couldn't deal with. After he had fucked me, Joe had left to take a shower, and he allowed me to do the same in the changing room. I was able to relax in the tub for a while, but by the time I got out, I think half of the water in it was my own tears.

I managed to stop crying while he was drawing, but when a bulge formed in his pants again after ten minutes, I knew full well that he wasn't interested in me as a model anymore. I was now nothing more and nothing less than a sex toy to him.

I was very glad when I remembered that this was only a two hour session. It was over pretty soon, but he reminded me of the change in our so-called business relationship yet again, by simply following me into the changing room. I know that there's something erotic about watching a woman undress or get dressed. Although he had seen me naked so many times, this was not something I felt like sharing with him. Soon though, I realized that I had no choice in this matter. He only wanted to talk to me while I was getting dressed, but it was very obvious that he was watching me the entire time.

"I've made some more room in the schedules," he told me. This was financially a nice surprise and emotionally dreadfully predictable. "Can you come tomorrow at 9 AM?"

"How long?"

"Two hours."

It struck me that this was actually a ridiculous deal. I knew I should be getting more than double for having sex with him, when I was still modeling afterward. I would have complained, but at this point, I was scared to lose this job. Any money I could grab was worth whatever I had to do for it.

"I'll be there," I said. I grimaced as I accidentally bit the wound inside of my lip. "Can I have my money before I leave?"

"Sorry, I forget. Of course you can." He pulled out the money from his pocket and I snatched it out of his hand, before tucking it away in my bra. As usual, I had my bag with me but this was nothing like a purse, so my bra seemed like the best option.

"See you tomorrow then, Joe." I smiled weakly, and made my way out. During my walk home, I had another emotional fit. I had a handkerchief pressed against my face almost all the while, and was almost starting to hyperventilate. I got weird looks from several people while I passed them by, but I ignored each of them, not wishing to share my feelings with anybody. I wasn't worth their time, anyway. They were all humans with respectable jobs, families, kids. I was a cat girl and a prostitute, and had a relationship with my own sister. Who would want to waste their time with me?

Just like yesterday, it was a relief to finally see my sister again. She was apparently finishing a phone call just as I walked in, and while her left ear was still listening to the phone, her right perked as if to greet me. I leaned in, pressed my lips against her free cheek, but respectfully made no kissing sound. My hand moved into my shirt, took the money I had earned today, and tossed it onto the table along the way. As usual, I quickly got undressed in the bedroom, then joined my lover in the kitchen. The phone call was finished, and from the look on her face, I could tell that she already knew what had happened. Moments like these always make me reconsider whether she's an actual mind reader, or just a very level headed person.

"How was it?" Her eyes were gazing into mine with a heavy portion of sympathy, and her hand had reached out to squeeze mine. I realized that although I was not crying anymore, my eyes probably had a red quality to them.

"Horrible. But it didn't last long. He didn't, I mean."

She smiled now, seemingly amused by Joe's lack of stamina. She motioned to the money I had dropped on the table with one hand, and caressed my fingers with the other. "Double payment?"

I nodded, and sighed softly.

"Well then... Eight hundred to go." She sounded like a professional when saying this. I simply shrugged and nodded. Eight hundred to go. Eight more sex sessions. She spoke again, and her thoughtful questions kept blowing my mind. She really understood what I was going through.

"Did he use a condom?" Again I just nodded without speaking.

"Did it hurt?" Another nod.

"I've made spaghetti for lunch." The change in subject startled me, and before I was able to respond, she already answered the question I was going to ask.

"Carbonara." For what felt like the first time today, I actually felt happy. Truly happy. My sister was absolutely, completely perfect. No flaws. At times like these, I felt terribly inferior to her. She wasn't a particularly great cook, but considerably better than me. Moreover, for the life of me, I was unable to remember her favorite meals. She never failed to remember mine. Perfection in its perpetually nude, brown haired form. Even while I was a pathetic whore, I knew I was the luckiest girl in the world.

As you could guess, the spaghetti were amazing. I was feeling a lot better very soon, and after lunch, we did the dishes together. We had some of our usual small talk. What we were going to do today, what she had been doing while I was at work, etc. She told me that she had received some positive answers to her phone calls, but sadly people weren't looking to hire us straight away. We were going to have to go through a few tests and possibly an audition, which complicated things drastically. It was Thursday today, and by Monday, we had to have our money. The thought depressed me, but the way Lily told me this seemed casual, and she was convinced that she could convince somebody to let us begin early.

Later that day, Lily and I had sex again. It was not as gentle as yesterday, but not wild either. We used our fingers on each other, and Lily made a point of suckling and nibbling my sensitive ears during this. She came about half a minute before me, but we ended up snuggled up comfortably under a blanket, blissfully enjoying the afterglow of our coupling. Finally, she brought up the subject of what had happened in Joe's studio again.

"Two more days until the next session?"

I shook my head. "He changed the schedule again. I think he's going to make me come every day now."

"That's good." The way she looked into my eyes showed that she understood the irony of this; I was in no way looking forward having sex with him every day. "Just think of something else, Vivi," she added. "I mean, I know it's difficult, but if you can enjoy part of it, it won't be that bad..."

This made it sound so easy. Just enjoy it and it'll be fun. I knew it would take time, but I also knew that it was true. Maybe Joe's stamina would improve after a few times. Maybe he'd learn that sex is more fun with a partner who is enjoying it too, and he'd put some effort into making it worthwhile for me. Maybe, maybe, maybe... Deep down, I knew this was very unlikely, but I was able to comfort myself with these thoughts.

"Did he say anything about me?" she suddenly asked.

I inquisitively perked my ears, but then understood what she meant.

"No, he didn't... I don't know why. Do you want me to ask him to let you come, too?"

She nodded to this, which surprised me positively. She was willingly offering to share this load, and I felt reassured yet again.

Our conversation took a different direction again, and we snuggled for some more, before getting up to take a shower. It was nice to soap each other, but our hands didn't wander. There are times for sex, and there are times for other things. Right now, I felt like going out for a late afternoon run. I hoped it would relieve some of the stress that was still left after Lily and I had sex.

I ran for about forty minutes. Usually I run longer, but when I had been going for a little over three miles, I felt tired, and took the quick way home. I took another shower, had dinner with Lily, then started taking care of laundry while Lily cleaned the kitchen. There was very little laundry because I had been wearing the same dress for a few days -- I only had to wear it in the morning anyway -- and Lily hadn't put on a single piece of clothing for a full week. It's funny how many advantages there are to being a nudist.

I went to sleep early, and Lily again spent some more time making phone calls. The next day, I woke up early, and Lily was still sound asleep. At least, that's what I thought at first; when I pressed a soft kiss to her forehead, she let out a very soft hum and briefly lifted her hand to brush her fingers against my cheek. I smiled, and quietly left the bedroom after grabbing the dress I was going to wear.

I took a very quick, cold shower, had a waffle for breakfast, and spent a few minutes browsing this week's cat-girl magazine. It's simply called "CAT" and the majority of its content is pictures of scantily dressed or fully nude cat-girls. I liked spending a lot of time checking them out, and I remember thinking that my body probably looked good enough for this kind of work. I had sent an application email for it long ago, but never received an answer.

I finally left for today's session, and when I came in, Joe gave me an unusually friendly smile. I weakly smiled back, feeling nervousness boiling up again. As if wanting to rub it into my face some more, he said we'd start with sex, then continue the pose I had done for the past two days. I didn't protest, but wasn't really happy with the idea either. But I trusted that things would get better after a few times. When I walked into the studio wearing my favourite robe, he was already naked, erect, and wearing a condom. To my surprise, I didn't get emotional this time, just a bit disgusted. He really looked like the perverted old man he was. He was probably thirty years older than me, and logically there was no way I could feel attracted to him.

He smiled at me and motioned to the couch. "Please get ready."

I nodded, dropped my robe, and stepped over to the couch. I felt a little more courageous, so I decided to be a good whore and let him take initiative. "How do you want me?"

Meanwhile, I tried my best to think about things that would otherwise arouse me in an instant. Lily, the girls in my magazine, the gorgeous man I had dated for a few weeks two months ago, the amazing way he had made me feel every time we had sex... Nothing worked. I started to panic, but then had a moment of clarity. "Do you have any lube here?"

He was surprised by this question, and shook his head. I sighed, but then realized that his condom's lubrication was probably enough. Moreover, in an act of complete shamelessness, I sat down on the couch, spread my legs, and began softly rubbing my sex with my own hand. He stared at me, as if mesmerized. I suspected that he thought I was doing this for him, and it gave me a sense of control over the situation. No matter what's happening, when I'm able to stun a man using my charms, I usually feel powerful over him. This was no exception, and I even felt proud.

After a minute, I could feel my pussy becoming a bit damp, and I smiled in satisfaction. I was in fact even feeling turned on now. Maybe this was going to be somewhat enjoyable after all. I moved my hand away, and this seemed to snap Joe out of his trance. He made his way over to me and grabbed my hips to position my body a bit better.

"You're beautiful, Viona. I've always loved drawing you." While he said this, he grabbed his cock, and slowly guided it to my entrance. I surprised myself as I smiled again. It was nice to hear that he admired me like this, and I relaxed further. When he began pushing into me, I felt no pain. Although I was disgusted with myself, I had no issues taking him into me. I closed my eyes, and let out a soft sigh as I felt his condom caressing my inner walls. It took some effort, but I was able to convince my imagination that this penis was attached to a beautiful, young, respectable man. Yesterday, Joe had only taken twelve thrusts, but today he took much longer. His hands found my breasts, and I instinctively reached up and squeezed his hands with my own. I was really doing a good job now, I thought. And indeed, his cock felt nice inside me. He squeezed my breasts more firmly, and I did nothing to keep myself from letting out a soft moan.

This seemed to be all it took for Joe to start really getting into it. His movements sped up, and I could feel his groin slapping against my ass with every thrust. I kept my eyes closed, and moaned softly again. He answered this with a deep groan, and he began panting deeply and audibly. I got uncomfortable when he began eagerly ramming himself into me way too hard, but then he tensed up and came inside me, although his condom kept his cum from touching me directly. I opened my eyes and smiled faintly again.

"Good?" The way I said this sounded like a normal question, but I said it sardonically, for my own enjoyment. He seemed not to notice this.

He responded, "Excellent, thank you." He held the condom securely around his cock with his fingers while pulling out, and I reached down to caress my pussy again. I had gotten quite wet, and sighed in relief. If it was going to be like this every time, I might actually be able to do this without too many issues after all.

The rest of the session was very comfortable. Because we both took a shower after he had fucked me, there was not much time left, and he chose to let me do various poses for a few minutes each, changing the plans he had made earlier. I did not mind, even though the poses now had become much more lewd. During the last pose, he had me sit back against the couch with one hand between my legs and one hand on my breast. This would have been a rather modest pose, but then he changed his mind, and told me to spread my legs a bit further, and to press two fingers into my pussy. I wondered whether he would be jerking off to this drawing later, but I frankly didn't care. He had already demonstrated his lust for me by making me have sex with him.

The next two days were similar, and while he was fucking me from behind during our Sunday session, I thought that I would have had an orgasm if he had kept going for a bit longer. It was all turning out to be way better than I had anticipated, although I knew that part of this was my brain's instinctive reaction, to protect me from depression and nervous breakdowns.

What happened next was inevitable though. Lily had not been able to get a job for us and by Monday, we still were short. We argued and begged and pleaded, but our landlord would have none of it. In fact, I later realized how generous he had been when he just took what we had and told us to forget the rest, if we moved out immediately. None of the furniture was our own and we didn't own many clothes, so there was not much we needed to pack. We were both carrying two large bags, and soon found us on the doorstep of what had been our apartment. We had nowhere safe to go, but we both knew what we had to do. Without saying a word, we began walking to Joe's colossal residence.

Along the way, Lily very quietly apologized, but I really couldn't be upset with her. We had both done everything we could, and none of us could be blamed for this. When I pressed the doorbell at Joe's gate, I turned and saw her blinking away a few tears. This nearly broke my heart, and I quickly pulled her into a tight, sisterly hug. I was startled when I heard a voice behind me, but then realized that this was Joe's intercom. I cleared my throat and turned to face the microphone.

"Hi Joe. It's Viona and Lily." I wanted to continue, but was interrupted immediately by his answer.

"Yes, come in." The gates opened, and we walked over to the front door. He opened it after a minute, and was smiling at the both of us. Something about that made me cringe. I realized now that Joe had been expecting us. With some simple math, he had made sure that we would fail to pay our rent, and now here we were. I could see why his company had been so successful; he was very intelligent, and apparently had the ability to influence others dramatically without them ever realizing. He locked the door behind us, and invited us into his living room.

I was stunned by the beauty of this room. I have described his talents as mediocre, but the walls were entirely decorated with his own drawings, and I must admit that it was spectacular. There were two drawings of me; one close up of the side of my torso, and one where I was leaning back against the wall with my hands at the back of my head. Both were essentially focused on my breasts, but I could see that his drawings of other models included many different styles. Joe must have seen me gawking because he smirked knowingly at me. He motioned us to sit down on the couch, and he took a seat in a rocking chair facing us.