Ascending Lauren Ch. 24

"What are you doing here?"

Looking up from her drink, Lauren saw the bar keep staring at her. "Sorry?"

"Why are you here?"

"I...I was...was," she replied shakily at first, then puffed her bangs out of her face and took on an air of confidence. "I was in the neighborhood and got thirsty."

"In the neighborhood, huh? Just passing through? You're either the sluttiest cop I've ever seen or you're one of Shady's girls. And you're too pretty to be one of his."

Lauren choked back her nervousness. She suddenly felt like she had to pee.

"I...I'm not a cop."

Shaking his head, the bartender slinked away to pour a draft for another customer, occasionally glancing back at her suspiciously.

What ARE you doing, Lauren? You need to get OUT of here.

Fishing a ten spot from her clutch, she laid it on the counter and left the half-drank beer on the counter. Outside, she leaned up against the building's façade and nearly threw up.

Dumb idea. Dumb, dumb, dumb.

Composing herself, the would-be-hooker glanced back into the bar through the etched glass and noticed the barkeep on the phone and looking her way.

Shit.

It was at that point Lauren realized she'd made a terrible, terrible mistake. Beginning to shake, she started to walk down the street aimlessly, trying to calm her nerves enough to order another rideshare back to safety. The nearest one was ten minutes away.

Now what?

Looking back towards the tavern, she saw a black Cadillac pull up in front and three large dark-skinned men exit and go in.

Shady?

+++++

"Man, we're gonna miss your sorry ass, Miller," Corey's boss slapped him on the back. "Who's gonna bring the laughs and keep us sane on site?"

"And the donuts!" Dan chimed in.

Jerry gave Corey a titty twister. "Yeah, look what them jelly bellies did."

The men laughed and ordered another round. As soon as it came, Corey proposed a toast.

"For the past twenty years, we three have built this town together, one beam at a time. I'm gonna miss you guys too." Downing the drink, he didn't see Dan nudging Jerry and both looking over his shoulder.

"Gotta take a leak," Haul announced, pushing back and swinging off the stool.

"Right there with ya," the other men fell in behind their boss.

Alone at the rail now, Corey checked his phone for messages. Nothing from Lauren, nor anyone else for that matter. Even Zane. Although his work buddies had taken him out, and the prospect of a new life down south was just around the corner, he never felt lonelier than at that moment.

"How's the bourbon?"

Looking towards the stool on his left, he found himself peering into a pair of the most gorgeous green eyes he'd ever seen.

"Uh, pretty good. Four Roses."

"Blend or single barrel?"

Corey's eyes lit up. It was a rare woman who knew her whiskey.

"Cask."

"Sounds interesting," she smiled sexily, then to the bartender, "I'll have what he's having. With a ball, please."

That got another eyebrow to rise. Someone who drank her whiskey the way he did. And it didn't hurt that the woman was a knockout. About cute-thirty, maybe, with curly blond hair that cascaded around her shoulders, framing a chiseled, tastefully painted face, and fair skin that glowed under the warm lights of the bar. Her lips had a subtle hint of pink, and below she wore a simple red long-sleeve sweater dress that clung to her hot body, accentuating curves in all the right places.

"I'm Trish, by the way," the blonde extended a hand. "You seem like a fun one."

Corey was mildly amused. Was she flirting with him?

And where the hell were the guys?

+++++

"You working?"

Lauren's attention landed on the murky figure inside a Toyota Camry that had just pulled to the curb. Looking back at the bar, there was no sign of the three men who had hastily jumped out and disappeared inside.

"Well?" the man pressed. An unpleasant odor of muskiness and old onions wafted from the open passenger window. Just like in her recurring dream.

"I, uh..." Lauren stuttered, "I don't think..."

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the guys emerge from the tavern, look her way, and begin walking.

Goddamnit, Lauren, what have you gotten yourself into?

The man behind the wheel wasn't keen on how the hooker was hesitating, but the sight of her tempered his patience. Although older than most, this one was far prettier than the others that frequented these blocks. The low-rise mini-skirt clung tightly to her waist, and he could tell by the way those small titties jiggled loosely under the satin crop top that she was a hot little number.

"Yes, yes, I'm working," Lauren blurted out, yanking open the door handle and practically throwing herself in the passenger seat.

"Whoa, wait a minute, sister, we ain't even talked bizness yet."

"Hey, you!"

The sound of approaching footsteps grew louder on the concrete sidewalk. Glancing in the side view mirror, she saw the trio drawing near.

Objects in mirror are closer than they appear.

"I'll give you a discount. PLEASE, JUST GO!"

It was then the john saw both the pure fear on the prostitute's face and the extremely mean-looking dudes closing on his car.

"Hold on."

Putting the Camry into gear, his foot hit the accelerator just as the bigger of the three men was reaching for the handle. The Toyota sped away from the curve and screamed down the empty street. Looking behind them, Lauren stole a final glance at the diminishing figures shaking their fists.

Her heart felt like it was going to burst.

+++++

Corey fidgeted with his whiskey glass, palms slick with sweat as the blonde bombshell next to him continued to flirt. His pulse was racing, and he couldn't help but shift uncomfortably in his seat. Having been married twenty-eight years, it had been a minute - okay, three decades - since a woman had flirted with him out of the blue. And although his relationship with Lauren had morphed into an unconventional one, he still couldn't help feeling that continuing the conversation was a bit...perfidious.

Trish sat up straight on her stool and turned away when Haul, Dan, and Jerry returned.

"Hey, Cors, looks like you found a friend," Dan nodded at the woman.

"Um, yeah, guys, this is Trish."

The lady in red smiled politely and wiggled her fingers.

Haul shook his now ex-employee's hand.

"Listen, we're taking off, my friend. Lots to do tomorrow. I gave the bartender my card number. Drink as much as you like."

The older man's face fell a little. They were having such a good time. "Oh...okay. I'll be in first thing in the morning."

"Nah, it's your last day. Blow it off. We got it. Use the time to get ready for the move."

With a round of hugs, the three parted ways.

"Don't be a stranger, you hear?" Dan said pointing a finger back at his friend as he followed the others out the door. "Enjoy."

Corey didn't notice the subtle wink exchanged between him and Trish, nor did he fully understand the latter salutation.

"Damn, Haul, she's fucking hot," Jerry exclaimed when they got to the parking lot. "Where'd you find her?"

"Nun ya."

"Five hundred is kind of steep, no?"

Haul twirled his keys around his finger. "Look, that guy has made the company millions over the years. Maybe billions. Best project manager we've ever had. Five Benji's ain't shit compared to that."

"Pretty nice send-off, boss."

"She's nothing compared to what he's got waiting for him in Florida."

"No shit," Dan agreed. "His ol' lady is grade-a prime. Lucky bastard, keepin' all that lovin' for himself. I don't know how he keeps up."

+++++

Lauren sank into the small of the Camry's seat, audibly exhaling a sigh of relief as it barreled down the side street. Her hands were still shaking.

"What was that all about?" the man asked nervously, glancing over at her with annoyance.

Checking the side view to ensure the Cadillac wasn't pursuing them, she finally got a look at the man who had unwittingly rescued her from a fate unknown. In the driver's seat of the weathered sedan, the disheveled man hunched over the steering wheel, driving with purpose. His shabby short sleeve checkered collared shirt clung to him in the Miami heat, the blue and white pattern slightly faded from years of use. Beneath, rolls of belly fat, soft and pliable, pressed against the fabric, creating valleys and mounds that rose and fell with each breath, straining the buttons. A double chin nestled into the folds of his neck, making him look older than the mid-forties he was, his face pockmarked and blemished. The banged-up Toyota wasn't fairing any better either, stinking of sweat and fast food. Despite being repugnant, the guy sure knew how to drive.

"You gonna tell me what the hell those guys wanted, or you want me to take you back?"

Looking out the passenger window, Lauren cringed. "I...I don't know who they were."

"So not your pimp?"

She looked at him again.

"Uh...um...I'm...I'm independent."

"Independent? Ain't nobody independent in Little Haiti. No wonder they were coming for your ass."

Lauren shook her head imperceptibly. The stupidity of her idea was becoming more and more apparent. "Sorry, I made you part of that."

The Camry stopped in a crosswalk at a red light.

"Whatever. Look, I'm not looking for trouble, just a piece of ass. If you're..."

Lauren touched his plump arm, causing him to look down at her dainty hand. "There'll be no trouble."

"What about that discount?"

She took a deep breath. Pulling a trick with a guy who likely had trouble walking wasn't exactly what she was hoping for, but...

"I meant what I said."

"Alrighty then, I'll find an alley."

"No, please," Lauren fixed him with puppy dog eyes. "Brickell."

"Brickell? That's like fifteen blocks from here. What the fuck's in Bricknell besides banks and rich shitheads?"

"Sick mother," Lauren lied.

"Uh-huh." Unconvinced, the fat man feasted upon the long black-haired prostitute's body. Even in the dim lighting, he could see the mini-skirt riding up her thighs, damn near giving away the farm. The satin crop top didn't hide much either, although she didn't have much in the tit department. A part of him wanted to cut and run, but the long hair, bangs combed down in front of smoky eyes and a faint scent of alluring perfume told him he'd be missing out on something special if he did.

"Brickell it is." The light turned green, and the car turned onto a busier boulevard.

"By the way, I'm Joey," the reluctant hero held out a stubby-fingered hand.

"Laur...eh, um...Meadow."

"Okay, Meadow," Joey grinned, knowing that wasn't her real name. "How much for a blowjob?"

Lauren's heart began to race again. After the Escape from New York parody minutes ago, she'd almost forgotten how she wound up in the Toyota. A warm wetness began to pool between her legs and her pussy started to throb. Kumiho was awakening.

"Uh, for you, twenty-five...I guess."

"Condom?"

Oh, most definitely.

"That's a solid yes."

"Pussy?"

Why did this have to be so complicated? She hadn't come prepared with a schedule of services! Let's see. What had she charged Ahmad? A thousand, right? No way this guy had that much on him.

"Five bills."

Jesus, she almost sounded like a hooker.

"Five bi...? Do you know what neighborhood you were working? A hundred gets me round the horn every time. Plus, I'm going miles out of my way here. What happened to the fucking discount?"

Lauren frowned. He had a point.

"Okay, two-fifty."

She flinched as chubby fingers caressed her bare thigh.

"Deal. You better be worth it. I ain't no goddamn taxi service."

+++++

At a bar counter where empty whiskey glasses were stacking up, the new acquaintances continued to talk about fine bourbon.

"And this one," Corey grinned at their fourth neat pour, "is Michter's Ten-Year. Tell me what you think." He knew there was a bit of a slur to his words, but that was okay. He was just happy to find someone that appreciated good brown.

Trish rolled the liquid around the snifter and took a sip. Her lips curled up in a delightful smile. "Wonderful."

The pair continued to talk about their love for drink and what they did for a living. Corey told her how his company had just completed construction on the new medical center.

"And now you're leaving our fine city."

The gray-haired project manager paused, but just for a second. Had he told her he was moving?

Realizing she had made a blunder, Trish redirected by polishing off her Michter's and placing a hand on his knee. "I think I need some fresh air." With fingers dancing up to Corey's crotch, she slid off the stool and headed towards the front door, glancing over her shoulder with that 'come hither' expression that every man knows.

Shit.

It had been a long time since a woman had shown interest in him like that. The not-so-subtle flirtation, the shared laughter; it was all surreal. He was flattered by the attention, of course; Trish was undeniably charming, and he found himself drawn to her in many ways. And yet, well, there was his marriage.

Well, there was that. But things were different now. The arrangement with Lauren, her perpetual hall pass...did that preclude him from capitalizing on opportunities when they presented themselves? Like...now?

Corey tapped the highly polished wood to get the bartender's attention.

"Ready to close out, please."

+++++

The Camry crossed over South Miami Avenue and Lauren could just make out the four red aircraft warning lights blinking from the corners of her high-rise apartment building.

"There," she pointed at a parking garage just beyond the next cross street. "Pull in there."

It served several banks in the financial district and was sure to be empty this time of night. Slowly, Joey guided the car beneath the yellow height warning bar and pulled into an out-of-the-way spot that could not be seen except by someone walking through. Placing the car in neutral, the man unbuckled his safety belt and eased the seat back. Lauren looked on nervously as he unsnapped his XXL shorts and pulled them and his briefs down enough to expose a fat, unimpressive cock.

"Let's make it two-seventy-five, shall we?" he panted, alluding to that blowjob.

"M-m-money first," Lauren stuttered, as she stared at the sweaty groin.

Vexed, Joey produced several bills from his wallet. She placed it in her clutch without counting and sized up his dick. Of the two size condoms she'd brought - medium and XL - she removed the former, tore open the package, and shifted to her knees. Leaning over the center console Lauren held the ring of the rubber between her thumb and forefinger, then gently guided it over the thick, throbbing cock. As the condom slid down the length, she pressed it firmly at the base, ensuring it would stay securely in place.

Above her, she heard the fat man grunt and felt him grab a fistful of her hair. His patience was clearly gone; it was time for her to earn her pay.

"Suck it, slut," he said with a raspy snarl. "And easy on the teeth."

+++++

Anyone paying attention to the unsteady couple walking almost aimlessly through the parking lot would have thought they'd been together for a while. As Corey and his new friend Trish weaved through vehicles outside the bar, the gas vapor lights above cast an eerie glow on their faces, revealing broad grins that stretched from ear to ear. Their laughter, boisterous and stilted, rose above the din of passing cars on a highway overpass just behind the building. Pausing to catch their breath, Trish dug through her purse, coming up with a cigarette between her fingers.

"Got a light?"

Corey shook his head. "Don't smoke. Your car?"

"Taxi."

Through the fog of the alcohol, a brilliant idea occurred to him. Sober, it was a no-brainer, but drunk? Freaking Einstein! Fishing a fob from a pocket, he chirped the Jetta's alarm a few times until he saw its light flicker a couple of rows away.

"Follow me."

+++++

Lauren lowered her head between the man's legs, locking on his little but girthy cock, all the while being quite wary of the hard steering wheel next to her right ear. Not wanting a repeat of her days in high school, she wrapped a hand around the shaft's base and angled it to maximize room. Giving it a firm squeeze, she leaned in closer and let her tongue trace a slow, tantalizing path along its length, feeling it twitch and grow even harder beneath her touch. With each languid lick, she savored the taste of his precum, a sign she was well on her way to satisfying him.

"That's a good little, whore. Blow me, bitch."

The pretty brunette moaned. The whole scene was as decadent as it gets. Cold, concrete garage, a stranger's dick in her mouth, money in her purse, the very real chance of getting caught. The wetness between her legs grew, her pussy becoming a hot and pulsating mess. She could feel the juices begin to ooze from her gash and moved her free hand to it. With a lurid smile, Lauren pumped the fleshy tube faster, alternating between a lick and a suck.

"Good God," came the not-unexpected response from above.

+++++

The Volkswagen chirped twice as Corey pressed the fob, unlocking all four doors.

"Lighter's in the dasshhhh," he offered as the pair fell against the Jetta, laughing. A bit of mist began falling from the sky and the whiskey was hitting them both hard. Before he could open the passenger door for her, Trish pushed him against the wet frame and kissed him. Seconds later they were falling into the backseat, giggling like teenagers as the blonde's hands slid up his shirt. Made clumsy by the booze, Corey tried to right things and pulled away several times, only to be drawn back down again. Their lips locked in a passionate embrace, tongues exploring each other's mouths. The only sound was the pitter-patter of a beginning rain shower and heavy breathing. Trish ran her hands through the older man's gray hair, getting him hotter. Soon his hand was fondling one breast through her dress, then the other. Next, fully clothed hips were grinding together in a slow, sensual dry hump. Corey could feel his jeans filling out, a hardness somewhere between flaccid and erect.

"Sit up," the covert escort demanded. "Now."

+++++

"You nasty...fuckin'...hoe."

Inside the Toyota, Lauren was in the midst of giving her customer his undervalued twenty-five-dollar blowjob. Lips wrapped tight around his dick, she bobbed up and down, taking him deeper with each stroke. Her tongue swirled around the head of his cock as she sucked it hard, making him groan with pleasure. On every upswing, the pretty executive made sure she cleared the steering wheel, lest her ear suffer the same fate as years ago.

"Take it all the way."

"Mmmmppffff."

Lauren doubled down. Her lips stretched wide to take its girth, the weight of his balls tickling her chin as she worked. With veins pulsating against her tongue, she slid the five-inch shaft into her mouth, taking more with each pass, the head grazing the back of her throat, eliciting a gag reflex that she had learned to expertly suppress. Slowly, saliva began to build up, coating his dick, creating a slick and wet viscosity.

"Goddamn, you're good at this."

It was true, and she knew it. Her ascent from little league softball coach to rampant tramp had been a meteoric one, and now she found herself selling her body to a fat man in a smelly car in a downtown Miami garage. It was degrading, immoral, depraved, and illegal.

And she fucking loved it.

+++++