My Prettiest Whore

“Did you like it? Did you like doing it? With strangers?”

“Yeah,” she said, and paused, still remembering. “Yeah, I did.” She blew out her breath. “They were older guys.”

“And they fucked your brains out, did they?” said Laura kindly.

“Yeah,” said Tamsyn, suddenly shy at the memory. She lowered her head. “They did.” She smiled secretly, and peered up at me again through a curtain. She looked damned seductive when she was a bit more relaxed.

“Is that why you came here? To get your brains fucked out?”

“Well…”

“Cause then you shouldn’t be here. If you want to get great sex, get a boyfriend.” Laura advised kindly. “I am not saying you can’t have a good time here. In fact it helps. But round these parts, you’re here in the first place to give great sex, not to get it. You’re fucking them. They don’t owe you a thing. Except the money. You owe them the fuck of their lives.”

Tamsyn was silent, but and looked at Laura rather challengingly. I decided to intervene.

“Your story interests me, Tamsyn. Tell me more about what you liked about… that experience. What was so great about it? Were they such fantastic lovers? Considerate and sensitive and all that?”

She rolled her eyes. “Not! As if! I mean, they thought they were great. They thought their cocks were really big and all. But that wasn’t what I, what I was into…”

“So what did you like about it?”

“Just the, the making them want me. And the wildness. Not caring what people thought. I felt like, like I had no limits. Like, I did not care what was, uh, forbidden and all. I just wanted to do it. And to let them have me. That sort of thing had never happened to me before.”

Something clicked for me then, and I looked down again at the ID still lying on the desk. I remembered where I had heard that last name before. Her father. Not a minor celebrity either – a well known politician, a conservative. I won’t say who. You’ve seen him on television, mouthing off about the war for the souls of our kids, about what books should and should not be in school libraries, about gays and immigrants and the moral majority, about locking up peaceniks and prostitutes. Big on telling other people what to do, strong on bombing far of countries, less eager to discuss the allegations of wife-beating.

I wondered what it would be like to have him as a father: to grow up all your life with that loveless, intolerant, prudish, fatuous, pompous, cold-hearted, violent, selfish jerk for a dad; to be told who your friends could be and what you could think and what music you could listen to, to be told that women were either whores or virgins… Tamsyn, Tamsyn, I thought. You’ve come to the right place. Or altogether to the wrong one. Which would it be?

“And that’s why you came here? Because you want to play with the fire?”

“I guess…” she said uncertainly. “And to make money.” I did not believe her. I saw the longing in her eyes, the desire to plunge entirely into the depths of the body and what it could do. Sin. Escape. Depravity. Lust. Freedom. She paused and hesitated for a moment. “What is this, this, uh shrink trip you’re laying on me? Do you always do this?”

I smiled. “Not always. But if you haven’t worked in a place like this before, I’d like to know that you know what you are letting yourself in for.”

She had no comment to that. I wondered whether I was coming across a little bit too fatherly. But fuck it, that’s what I am supposed to be. I take care of the girls.

There was a knock at the door. It was Jade, one of the floor girls, with the vodka. She was curious as hell – she knew I was interviewing a new girl, and she was dying to get a good look at her, and trying not to be too obvious about it. Tamsyn ignored the ogling; she sat there aloof as anything and received her drink graciously like she was royalty or a film star or something, and as if Jade was not half naked herself.

When she was gone, I nodded at the closed door.

“OK, so that’s one of the jobs here. Some of the girls start like that. Do a bit of topless waiting. Not too much contact with the clients. The clients cop a feel every now and then; or they will pay you to lick ice cream or Bailey’s off your nipples. Nothing heavy.”

Tamsyn shrugged non-commitally and took a sip of the vodka.

“OK, you don’t look interested. The money’s not that great, as you can imagine. So you will go straight to fucking the clients?”

She nodded, again looking me straight in the eye. I could see part of her mind was telling her to get the hell out of there while she still had a chance, to go back to being a good girl and go to the college her rich daddy had picked out for her. But she was determined.

“And what are your limits? What would you do, or not do?”

She considered that for a moment. “Well, I don’t know… like what?”

“Oral sex, anal sex, double penetration? Would you do all that?”

“Yeah…”

“Swallowing? If a client came in your mouth?”

“I guess. I mean, yes I would.”

“Would you have sex with a woman?”

“I don’t know. I mean, I haven’t tried.”

“Would you consider it, though? Would you be prepared to do it?”

Her eyes flickered over to Laura for the merest second. “Yeah, I guess I would.”

“How about in public?”

That got her attention. “You mean, like, on the street?”

“No, no. We sometimes arrange shows. We have some male performers. You do it on stage. Or a group of men club together. Some of them fuck a girl, others watch. Would you do that?”

“Whoo, uh, I guess, yeah, I could.” She did that squirm thing on the seat again, and I noticed her nipples perking.

“That turns you on, doesn’t it?”

“Yeah, I guess it does.” She took another sip of vodka. “What else?”

“BDSM?”

“Say what?”

“Bondage, discipline. Tying people up, being tied up.”

“Oh, that. I don’t know. That’s kind of weird. I haven’t thought about it. I would try it though. I don’t like getting hurt though. Or any of that humiliation shit.”

I guessed not. She’d probably had her share of taking punishment in her life. “You wouldn’t have to do anything you did not want to.”

There was a pause. Laura caught my eye, and nodded imperceptibly. We were in agreement. She stood up gracefully, and went to the door. “Well, I guess I better leave you two alone, then,” she said, and then she was gone.

There was a moment’s silence. Tamsyn and I looked at each other quietly over the desk.

“OK, Tamsyn,” I said. “I guess you can figure out what happens now.”

She knew. The knowledge lay between us silently. My cock was hard and hot inside my pants, and my mouth was dry. She tossed back the rest of the vodka in one go, letting the glass rattle against her teeth. “OK,” she said, “Here goes…””

I did not say a word. The noise of traffic came out through the open window, and the warm, rich air late summer afternoon. I thought I could smell the scent of her sex. She walked slowly round the desk and came over to me. She was silent. She walked like a lamb going to the slaughter, like a priestess to the offering table, like a girl becoming a woman in a way her father never dreamed. She walked like someone choosing her destiny, going over the edge, letting go. She walked like a queen, like a sorceress, tall and graceful, her hips gently swaying, her eyes fixed on mine, suddenly seeing her power.

For the power was hers. True: she was the one who wanted the job; I was the whorehouse owner; she was naked in my office, she would do whatever I wanted. But she had the power. She had my desire. I wanted her with a sudden, urgent need. My hart hammered in my chest, my mouth was dry, my cock suddenly felt hot and heavy, pushing hard against my pants. Before her, I suddenly felt like a callow teenager again, staring with wondering eyes at a creature too beautiful for words. She must have seen it in my face, how my throat tightened and my breath caught in my chest. For she smiled, a slow, sweet, smug, seductive smile, a smile that said, ok Baby, you are twenty years older than me, you could have been my father and I kind of wish you were, but I see the longing in your eyes…

The next moment she was upon me, still smiling in that half-scared, half-confident way. She pushed my chair away from the desk – it rolled back with a groan of protest from its casters - and the next moment she was straddling me, her fingers pulling me forward by my collar, her unbelievable green eyes sparkling inches from my face, her hair falling over us in a sensuous auburn waterfall. For a moment she teased me, bending forward for a kiss and then withdrawing, and then with a moan she kissed me, a long, a trifle over-urgently perhaps (our teeth clashed at one moment with a jarring impact), but then she settled in and let her mouth explore mine. Her mouth was hot and juicy; kissing her was like a long drink of water. And then she leaned forward and let me kiss and nibble her breasts, which incredibly enough were even softer and warmer than I thought they would be. Her skin was soft and satin-smooth and warm, and smelled ever so slightly of sweat. I let my hands run down her long sensuous back and up again, I curled my fingers in her long, cool, silky hair, and kissed her mouth and her breasts, her breasts and her mouth.

Then she sat back astride me, throwing back her gorgeous head, exposing the long white column of her throat and her tender breasts to my exploring fingers. My hands quickly found what pleased her, and I teased and tickled her breasts, scratching them gently with my nails, pinching her little pink nipples and then letting my hand dart away again, tickling the upper and lower curves of her breasts and scratching and stroking her belly. She spread her legs wider, pushing her hot cunt hard against the bulge in my pants – I could feel the heat through the fabric – and starting to thrust and slide against me. Then she untangled herself from me – she turned around and put her feet back on the floor, grinding in my lap as my hands found her breasts. She leaned back against me, pressing her little forehead into the crook of my neck; she whispered, “harder, harder”, until my fingers were buried deep in her soft flesh.

Finally she slid slowly down between my spread legs. Turning around again, she looked up at me – still with that strange, serene, poised amusement, and let her hands travel slowly up and down the length of my cock, which was straining against the confines of my pants. I reached down to unbutton them, but she restrained me with a soft hand, and undid them herself, slowly undoing the belt buckle, gently unbuttoning my pants, inch by inch drawing down my zipper, and finally (I gasped with pleasure) taking my cock in her mouth as it sprang free. Slowly and deliciously she licked me, her eyes alternately looking up at me and down at my cock. Somehow I managed to wriggle entirely out of my pants and underpants, while all the while she licked and sucked, letting us lose ourselves in the slow stream of mounting desire. She took her time about it too, sometimes blowing on my cock to cool it down, sometimes, nibbling my balls or scratching them with gentle nails, sometimes softly sucking and teasing me, sometimes taking me wholly into her mouth, her movements wilder and wilder. Sometimes she leaned back and let my cock slip between her breasts, and tit-fucked me, her hot gaze never leaving mine. And all the time her left hand was between her own legs, teasing and playing with her own little cunt.
Finally she looked up at me – for the first time, she looked shy and uncertain – and she mouthed, “now you.” Slowly she stood up. Her hair was tousled, her skin was flushed, her nipples were engorged, and the smell of sex was now unmistakable. Slowly she lowered her beautiful ass on the edge of my desk and spread her legs. She jammed the middle finger of her left hand deep into her cunt and furiously masturbated, her right hand never ceasing for an instant to pinch and rub her breasts. I hesitated, confused. Was she ready, so soon?

“Now you!” she repeated, more urgently, and I stood up, prepared to penetrate her. Then I got her meaning as she pressed the top of my head gently down. Her pussy was fragrant, spicy and sopping wet. I’d forgotten how pleasurable the act of giving pleasure could be. My whole being seemed to drown in her heady scent, and slowly my tongue learned where she liked being pleasured, how she liked her outer pussy lips sucked, how she liked me to tease her little clit with the soft underside of my tongue, how her body trembled and how she groaned when my tongue entered the hot narrow gap that lay between her inner lips. Before I knew what had happened, she had already come once, crying out softly and bucking her hips, locking her strong thighs solidly around my neck. Then her hands were pulling urgently at me, inviting me to come deep into her…

She lay spreadeagled across my desk, her lovely head and shoulders hanging back over its further edge, her fingers fiercely gripping its edges, her legs spread wide. She was still so tight, so tight… I had to enter her slowly and gently, guided signals from her straining body. Slowly and blissfully her soft warm cunt little cunt enveloped my cock, welcoming me home. It was bliss. Slowly I started to move in her, slowly and then more quickly. She threw her head back in a spasm, locked her legs around me again and arched her back, rocking against me with an answering rhythm, her soft breasts wobbling liquidly as she moved with me. Her eyes were closed now, and her breath came in ragged, hoarse gasps - softly at first and then with mounting abandon, till she was growling softly in her throat each time I thrust into her. Somewhere in the red haze in my brain it registered that Tamsyn was multi-orgasmic, for long before I could climax she had come again. Her growls reached a sudden crescendo and she screamed in rapture, screamed again and again, reaching out with her long strong arms and grasping me around the shoulders, pressing her little body hard against mine as the orgasm shook her.

“On the chair, on the chair”, she whispered in my ear when she could breathe again. She was small and light and I take care of myself – I was able to lift her with ease off the table, my cock still deep within her as she clung feebly to my shoulders, her sweat-streaked head lolling sleepily against mine. For a long while I let her rest, straddling me again on the chair, her body resting against mine, her breath hot in my throat. Then we started moving again, moving together. She leaned back a little and took some of her weight on her arms, pressing down on the arm rests. She was in a trance, all modesty and hope forgotten, locked only into the pleasure I was giving her and she was getting me. Her face was vulnerable and open, and I could suddenly see right into her. I realised all of a sudden that the naked body straddling me belonged not to a woman, but to a girl, to someone to whom sex was still a strange, alarming continent, who did not fully understand the power she commanded over a man, or how to possess and encompass a man’s desire for her. Something – a desire to be used, to lose herself utterly - had led her through this door, and here she was, still herself, still her daddy’s girl, sliding the mouth of her cunt across the penis of a man she’d never seen before. But deep inside the girl lived the goddess, her deep power of life and connection. I stroked her back and stroked her hair. And for a third time we let the stream take us, the hot current of the body. This time her eyes did not leave mine; she stared right into my own soul as desire and passion rose in me. Fiercely she rode me, fiercely she held me, and for what seemed like minutes I came and came in her, while her astonishing green eyes looked deep into mine, seeing in my face the pleasure she gave me and the pleasure she felt. She came too, I think, but softly, shuddering, whimpering in her throat.

For a long time we lay tangled in my chair. The room faded back into focus around us: outside, cars were still rumbling and hooting, caught in a traffic jam in the hot sun of the late summer afternoon.

After a while she stirred. She let me slide softly out of her but remained on my lap, her girlish arm flung over my shoulder.

“Whoo, I could really use a drink of water. And a shower, now,” she said.

“OK, I will get you something. There’s a bathroom right there. The door next to the window.”

She wandered slowly and dreamily over door, and paused for a moment in front of the window. If any motorists looked up right then – and maybe one of them did – they would have seen her slender figure framed in a top floor window, like a naked young princess looking out from her tower. Then she disappeared into the bathroom, and I heard the shower come on.

I leaned forward to switch on the intercom, and then saw it had been on all along. Oops. I realised we’d probably given the kitchen staff a little audio show. For a second I felt embarassed, and then I let it slide. So what, they knew what happened in here when a new girl was auditioned. And perhaps they could learn something. I remembered a joke I had heard somewhere, about a rooster talking to some hens, showing them a huge ostrich egg. “ I am not comparing, I am not criticising. I am just drawing your attention to what has been achieved elsewhere”. So I ignored the amusement in Laura’s voice as she took my order for two bottles of mineral water, as well as Jade’s satisfied smirk when she brought it.

We did not speak a lot as Tamsyn sipped our water. She’d found a nightgown somewhere in the little bathroom and wrapped herself demurely in it, sitting on the edge of her leather chair as her red hair slowly dried.

“So, er, have I got the job?” she asked after a while.

“Er? Yes, of course, my dear. We wouldn’t have, have-”

“Fucked?”

“Er, yes.”

“That was good, by the way. You’re not bad, for, for a -”

“Older guy?”

“Er, yes.”

“Hmm. Don’t underestimate us, sweetie. Don’t underestimate us.”

“I won’t”

A silence passed.

“Er, Tamsyn?”

“Yes?”

“So, when can you start?”

“Right now, I guess. Well, I am a little pooped, so, what about, like, tomorrow?”

“Tomorrow is fine. Laura will take care of the contract. It’s, er, it’s for five years, renewable once. You will get a pretty decent salary – best in the trade. You can stay here – bed and board is free – so if you like we can invest half of your salary. We have a pretty good health and pension scheme for the girls. No-one works here for more than ten years. We like our girls to study a bit. There’s a decentish Business School at the university. We can pay half the tuition, if you decide to do a course. Quite a few of our girls do quite well for themselves after they have left here.”

“Cool,” she said, with complete disinterest. She was eighteen and luscious and the days when she would want to do something else than fuck and dance for money were still some years away.

Then she looked up at me. “S-Steven?”

“Yes?”

“That was a great fuck. You took care of me. I won’t be selfish with the clients. But, you know, every once in a while, er – um, you know”

“A girl likes to have fun?”

“Um, yes.”

“Don’t worry, sweetie. I will take care of you. It comes with the job.”

And it does.