Fare Exchange

The girl squatted in the classic open cunt position of fantasy whores everywhere, the old man's come on her chin, ready and waiting for her second and third loads. Robert obliged, putting his swollen head on her tongue, and, rubbing it just the once on the cushiony velvet, he began to spill.

"Good boy," the young whore said as he shot into her mouth, excess fluid spilling off her chin, trickling onto her body, and rolling down over her flat stomach towards the holes that had elicited it.

"Good boy," she said again, looking up as Robert shivered over her. But he had his eyes shut tight, absorbed in his orgasm, and wanking all it's remains onto her face.

Willem had barely held on. Just in the nick of the time, the young blond girl turned her head towards him, the other men's sperm on her chin, on her cheek, on her nose and in her mouth. Her tongue rolled out obediently, and held. Here was the cock that gave her pleasure. She wanted it to feel good.

Willem put his cock to her mouth, like the others, and gave his shaft three small tugs with his thumb and forefinger. A huge glob of cream oozed out immediately, making a perfect line over his tip, onto her tongue, and into the other deposits. His orgasm was deep and intense. The cream kept coming, smearing the entire top of his head, while the girl licked through it, prolonging his pleasure. She swallowed the other come on reflex and made way for more of Willem's thick white emissions. They poured out in tribute to the magnificence of her cunt.

******

Phillip looked on from behind, pantless, his arm lent up arrogantly on the fireplace. He'd squeezed the last vestiges of sensation from his now wilting cock and his interest had disappeared with it.

The blond teenage prostitute still knelt on the floor, covered in their semen, and still holding Willem's just spent member as his heart pounded visibly in his chest. But she looked smaller now, diminished, no longer the goddess they'd pumped her up to be.

Phillip thought of how the woman from the parlor had sent her at four, because of another booking at six. He thought derisively of the waiting john, who was probably sitting back at the bar of the parlor already, his cock tingling in awe at how badly he'd fuck her.

"I think you should go now," Phillip snorted, "I'm sure we all have more work to do. I hear you have, anyway."