Ashley's Prostitution Ventures #05

"I'm sorry," Davidson told her. "I tired to pull out. I tried to warn you. But..."

"It's okay," she said. And it was. She had accepted that he might climax inside of her as a logical consequence of her begging him to use her harder. Not that she had thought it through in those terms at the time. "Can you hand me my panties before you pull out? We probably should try to keep it inside me."

"Yeah," the older man said, twisting and leaning to the side. Her underwear had slid off the seat onto the floor.

"How should we...?"

"Pull out then slide my panties up my legs as quick as you can."

"Okay. Here it goes."

One moment she was full, and the next she was empty. Cool air flooded inside of her stretched vagina, and Ashley shivered. Hands fumbled with her feet, then the soft material of her panties slid up her calves. She lifted one knee, then the other, and they moved up her thigh.

Reaching down, Ashley pulled her panties the rest of the way up herself. The thin material brought some comfort, both mental and physical. She sighed, knelt upright, and turned to face her client. Still on his knees, he looked from her face to his semi-hard manhood. She managed to make out a drop of their combined juices about to fall from the tip. Diving forward, she sucked his length into her mouth, tasting her own savory-sweet flavor along with the musky one of his semen. An unwanted twinge in her sore sex followed.

"Just a second," the man said, pulling his buzzing phone from his shirt pocket.

Ashley, her tongue still bathing Ken Davidson's penis, stared up at him as he flipped the phone open and brought it to his ear.

"Hi Honey," he said, staring back at Ashley. "Yeah, I dropped her off. I stopped at... oh... sure, I can go to the store. What do you need? Okay. No, I don't have anything to write on here. Sure, they have napkins but... I stepped outside. Tell you what, I'll finish my beer and head to the store. When I'm there, I'll call you. No, just one beer. I'll be fine. Okay. Yeah, love you."

"How's that gonna work, Ken?" Ashley asked when he closed the phone. "It'll take at least fifteen minutes to get to my house, and another twenty back..."

"I'll call her from the road, and she'll be asleep when I get home. She doesn't even need the stuff from the store until tomorrow. I'll just tell her I watched the news after I got home and came to bed late. No big deal."

"Too bad your conversation didn't last longer. I was kinda liking the idea of sucking you off while you talked to your wife." Ashley felt her cheeks redden. She knew that she should be ashamed of her thoughts, and more so that she had voiced them, but she was not. Her flush came not from embarrassment, but from excitement.

"Yeah, that'd be something," her older client agreed. "Maybe another time."

"I'm game," Ashley said. "For a price, of course."

***

Dressed again, Ashley rubbed Ken Davidson's thigh as he dove, her fingers occasionally brushing against the renewed bulge in his pants. For the last couple of minutes, she had been trying to alternately drive an idea from her mind and figure out the best way to voice it.

"We're still about ten minutes from my house," she said, squeezing his erection. "That should be enough time for me to suck you off again. You ever gotten road head?"

"Um, yeah. When I was younger. Before Mrs. Davidson."

"Did you like it?"

"Of course, but I was young and dumb..."

"And full of cum..." Ashley giggled, amazed at the girly-girl sound that came from her mouth.

"And did not think through the possible consequences."

"So, you don't want me to suck you off again?"

"It's not that," Davidson sighed, glancing at her. "It is dangerous. Plus, I don't know if it'd work out. I've already come twice."

"It's certainly ready," the brunette grinned, squeezing again.

"Yeah, but it might take longer than ten minutes..."

"We'll see," Ashley told him, unzipping his pants and pulling his engorged penis free of his boxers.

"Ashley..."

The eighteen-year-old turned in her seat, leaned across the center console, and sucked the head of Davidson's shaft into her mouth. He squirmed and the SUV shimmied. She paused, the dangers he had spoken of filling her mind. But she shrugged them off, sliding her lips up and down, tonguing the hardness.

"Oh fuck," Davidson groaned. "You need to stop."

She did not stop but rather quickened her pace. The SUV accelerated. She slowed, and it did as well then held steady even as she nearly stopped any motion other than her tongue. After several seconds, she waggled it faster. The vehicle did not change speed. She sucked hard. Nothing. She bobbed her head, picking up speed. The SUV sped up too.

Over the next several minutes, Ashley played with her tempo and its effects. If she went slow, Davidson drove at a steady speed. Every time she increased her tempo, he accelerated. If she kept up the fast pace, the SUV leveled off at the higher speed. If she slowed, it slowed.

"Enough," the older man finally grunted, and the young woman felt the SUV brake. Moments later, she heard the crunch of gravel underneath the tires. The vehicle came to a stop. She did not. She sucked up and down Davidson's throbbing length as fast as she could, doing her best to wiggle her tongue while she worked. He groaned and squirmed, trembling fingers laced in her hair.

At the wrong angle to swallow him all, she took as much as she could. Every so often, she misjudged and gagged. The man groaned louder when she did, so she started doing it on purpose. Soon, she gagged almost every time she bobbed her head down. She could tell he liked it, but she wondered if he realized how it affected her. Sodden panties clung to her puffy labia, and twinges deep in her vagina coincided with tingles from her clitoris.

She imagined him on his phone with his wife. Had she not wanted to take her lips from his manhood, she might have suggested he call her. As it was, she had to make do with the fantasy, squeezing her thighs tightly and rubbing them against each other. By the time his hands clamped against her head and he announced his climax, a small, quick climax of her own caused her to moan just before he exploded in her mouth. She compensated just in time, swallowing every drop he had to offer before milking out anything that remained.

"Fuck, Ashley," the man breathed after several seconds of only the sounds of his heavy breathing and her slurping filling the silence. "That's the best blowjob I've ever gotten. By far."

"Glad you liked it, Ken," she said after she sat up. "I liked how you went faster when I did. That was fun."

"And dangerous," he added. "That's why I pulled off."

Ashley shrugged, took a swig of cool but not cold soda from the bottle, and swished it around in her mouth. She did not mind the lingering flavor, but she wanted to kiss him, and she thought it best to rinse first. Not every guy was Corey, who always kissed her afterward.

The thought of her boyfriend brought shame and guilt crashing down around her. Not at what she had done—he knew what her plans were for the evening—but at how she had reacted to it. Sex with Ken Davidson had been a business transaction, but more as well. No guy other than Corey had ever left her so satisfied after sex, and she knew part of her response to the older man came from the thrill, from him being older and married, from the debauchery of it all. Had he not received that call from his wife and ignited the eighteen-year-old's desire, she doubted she would have gone down on him again. It had not been part of the transaction. She did it because it excited her to give him head and think of his wife, think of him talking to her while Ashley pleasured him. Even now, her clitoris tingled at the thought.

What the fuck is wrong with me? she asked herself, looking out the window, any thought of kissing Ken Davidson gone.

"Here we are," he said a few seconds later, stopping at the curb in front of her house. "This was... amazing."

"Yeah," she replied, not quite meeting his eyes.

"Do you have that email address for me?"

"What?"

"The one you wanted me to give to men I know who might want..."

"Oh... that. Here it is." Ashley handed him several cards. Pictures of red and pink roses adorned it, and printed in the center in red letters was an email address. She had designed it herself, bought card stock, and printed it on her parents' color inkjet. She would have had Corey do it, since he likely would have done a better job, but she did not want to upset him. These were for growing her older clientele

"Nice," Davidson said, flipping the top one over then back. "Nice and simple, nothing to give away who you are or what you do."

"Trying to be careful," she shrugged. "And you'll be discreet, right? I ask my other clients not to tell prospective clients who I am, just what I offer. And I'm hoping you'll do the same."

"If I do, can I have discounts on future... encounters?"

"Sure," the brunette said, pretending the tingles prompted by his question did not exist.

"And I can take charge if we negotiate it first, right?"

"You kinda did tonight," she shrugged.

"No, you were in charge the entire time and you know it. What I want is to do things to you... very naughty things like we did tonight but of my choosing... and for you to pretend to be Mrs. Davidson."

Holy fuck! her mind recoiled.

"I think we can come to an agreement," her mouth said while the prospect of making more money as well as the throbbing arousal between her legs buried her initial reaction.

"Great! And I'll tell my friends and give them your email. I'm sure several of them will want to take advantage of your expanded services."

"Thanks, Ken," she purred, kissing him. She had intended it to be quick, but her lips melted under his.

"Okay, gotta go," she said a few seconds later, pulling away from the kiss and moving his hand, which had crept up to her breast. "Mom's gonna be wondering why I'm not coming in."

"Of course, Ashley. Sorry."

"No problem. I'll tell her we were setting up another time for me to babysit."

"Next Saturday afternoon."

"Um, okay. How long will you and Mrs. Davidson be gone?"

"She and the kids will be going to the mall or something. I'm going to have extra work come up and need to stay home."

"Oh, I see," Ashley grinned as the man winked. "So I'll tell my mom that it will be all afternoon. Will that work?"

"Yes."

"Great. We can finish the details by email. I have to..."

"Sure. Have a good night, Ashley."

"You too, Mr. Davidson!"

***

Ashley, dressed in only a sleepshirt, added the $230 plus the $60 from babysitting to her stash of cash in her bra drawer. Altogether, she had a little more than $2,200, and that was after the expensive bra, the supplies to make her cards, and the hotel room charge for her Valentine's Day with Corey. If Mr. Davidson came through with telling his friends about her, she hoped to quadruple that over the next couple of months. And almost $9,000 should be enough for a half-way decent car, a deposit on a studio apartment, and first month's rent. At least she hoped it would be.

The eighteen-year-old turned off the light and lay on her back on her soft, comforting bed. She considered calling Corey, but she doubted he would want to talk. So, her mind shifted gears. Mr. Davidson wanted her to come to his house next Saturday afternoon. She was hoping to get at least $500 for her time with him, maybe more. His desire to be "in control" and fo her to pretend to be his wife gave her pause, but not enough to call it off. And perhaps, depending on what he wanted, she might be able to get even more than she thought.

And an additional problem existed. Ashley had two 'dates' next Saturday already, one in the afternoon and one in the evening. Both were eighteen-year-old virgins, so she doubted either guy would be too much work, which is why she had scheduled both on the same day. But now she would have to move her Saturday afternoon one, perhaps to late morning. And she worried that she might not be at her best for the later date, especially if her time with Davidson turned out to be like it had been earlier that evening. An unexpected soreness afflicted her loins, arms, legs, jaw, and neck. She also had found a tender spot on her right breast, and she thought it might be bruised.

What would happen if he took control and pretended she was his wife? She suspected he wanted to do to her what he could not do to his wife, and that no doubt would prove to be physically demanding. The smartest thing to do would be to postpone both of her other dates for next Saturday. But she had never canceled before, and she worried that her reputation might suffer. Older clients would no doubt lead to more money, but the virgin clients were there now, and they really did not require much effort.

"I wish I could ask Corey," she whispered to the empty room. He always gave her good advice, even if she did not always take it. Of course, his advice would to be to cancel on Mr. Davidson, and she did not want to do that. And if she were honest with herself, the money was not the only factor. Sex with Mr. Davidson left her sore and satisfied; sex with her regular clientele left her horny. Sure, Corey was usually there to take care of that part, but she had already learned it was much easier to have good sex with a client than bad sex.

Rolling to her side, Ashley picked up her phone and put her finger to Corey's speed dial button. But she did not push it. With a heavy sigh, she set it back on her nightstand. She would see him tomorrow and talk to him then. He tended to be less frustrated and upset with her when they talked in person. Plus, if it got too bad, she knew how to distract him.

A grin graced her lips. She liked her new plan. She would probably need relief after her date tomorrow anyway. Her client, Simon Lancaster, was a sweet, pudgy young man who, as far as she could tell, was scared of everything, girls included. He could surprise her, but she doubted it. Corey would be there to rescue her with his fingers or perhaps his penis. He still did not like sex after she had a date with a client, but his attitude had relaxed considerably from his no sex afterward policy. In fact, some of their best sex had come after dates with clients. And either way, she would give him a blowjob.

A twinge from within her loins distracted her. For a second, she thought she smelled Corey's clean scent. Her clitoris tingled. She licked her lips, realizing she was salivating at the very thought of his penis in her mouth. She grabbed her phone, opened it, and stabbed the speed dial button. It rang three times before her boyfriend's voice said, "Hi, Ashy. Are you okay?"

"A-okay, baby," she said, turning onto her back and relaxing. "But wanting you. Up for some phone sex?"

After a brief pause, Corey asked, "How did your..."

"About like I thought. Made some money. But can we talk about that later? I need... you."

"You mean you need sexual relief," he said, his voice almost sounding relieved. She smiled into the phone.

"Yes, I do. Can you help a poor girl out?"

Ashley knew Corey would misinterpret her words. She was counting on it. The relief she needed came from thinking about Corey, not from her time with her new client. But he did not need to know that, and enough truth existed in what had been said that she did not believe she had lied to him.

"Sure, sweety."

"Mmm... thank you. So... watcha wearing?"

"Um, shorts. Underwear beneath them."

"So, no shirt?"

"I was doing crunches when you called."

Ashley imagined Corey's abs. The first time she had seen him naked, shock that her nerdy friend had transformed his formerly skinny body into toned muscle awakened lust in her. And that lust chugged along at full speed as her mind supplied the details—pale skin shining with sweat; hard abs rippling beneath that skin; lean, long muscled arms ready to envelop her; the scent of him, maybe less clean than normal but oh so male. The eighteen-year-old shuddered. Wet warmth infused her sex.

"What about you?" He asked.

"Um... just a sec." The young woman dropped her phone on the bed, pulled her sleepshirt to her waist, sat up, drew it over her head, and tossed it to the side.

"I'm lying in bed naked and thinking about you," she said as she reclined. What sounded like a low groan came through the phone.

"Nude in repose," he said, and she laughed. Corey had a body that even most jocks might envy, but he was still a nerd. Her nerd.

"Slut in need," she countered. "You still got those shorts on?"

"Yeah."

"Isn't that uncomfortable with a hard-on?"

"How do you know whether I'm hard?"

"You're picturing me on my bed, naked, legs spread, squeezing my boobs, ready for you. You're hard."

"I am," he breathed through the tiny speaker. "And you're wet, anticipating me sliding inside, making love to you."

"Or fucking me hard."

"That's a form of making love when you love the person you're are fucking," he reminded her, harkening back to their Valentine's Day evening and the best sex of her life.

"God, I want you. And yes, I'm soaked. So are my sheets."

"I think I would have to lick you first."

"Oh yes, that'll work," Ashley moaned, finger finding her clitoris and rubbing. It protested at first. Her most sensitive spot had not escaped the soreness the rest of her body endured, despite receiving no direct stimulation earlier. But as quickly as her mind registered the discomfort, pleasure outstripped everything else.

"Are you playing with those perfect tits while I lick your clit?"

"I'm playing with my smaller than average boobs," she said.

"You said you are a C. That's average, right?"

"Can we talk about his later?" Ashley groaned. "And it depends. I'll tell you more later. Promise."

"Um, okay..."

"So, I'm playing with my average boobs..."

"So much more than average. Perfectly symmetrical, tipped with firm, tawny nipples..."

"Um, 'tawny'? Does that mean dark tan?"

"Perfect for teasing, or licking, or squeezing..."

"Mmmm... and pinching."

"Are you doing that right now?"

"Yes," Ashley moaned. "And pulling."

"Are you thinking about me licking your pussy."

"Are you shoving your tongue in or licking my clit."

"Fingers inside. Tongue on clit."

"Okay... two fingers in. Rubbing my clit with the other hand."

"Are you close."

"Fuck yes," she groaned, trying to keep her voice and other vocalization low. Her mother likely had gone to bed, but she could not be sure.

"Taste yourself for me."

Ashley whimpered and pulled her fingers from her slit. She brought her fluid covered digits to her lips and slurped on them. The tangy taste of her arousal prevailed, but a musky flavor that must have been Ken Davidson's lingered underneath. Shame and arousal mixed in her mind while unrelenting fingers rubbed her closer and closer.

"Tastes like slut," she whispered.

"I know better. Tastes like heaven."

The pressure behind her clit explode. The fingers between her legs stilled. Ashley clamped her other hand across her mouth, stifling a scream or a moan, she was not sure which. Her body shook, sore muscles quivering. Pleasure radiated from her clitoris, spreading a relieving warmth. She relaxed, tensed, relaxed again. After several seconds, she withdrew her hand from over her mouth.

"You came," Corey said. It was not a question, and she loved the confidence she heard in his voice.

"Uh huh," she responded. "Your turn. Are you stroking your cock?"

"Yes."

"And you did that while I came?"

"Yes."

"Did me coming bring you closer?"

"Yes."

"You gotta work with me, Corey," Ashley teased.

"I loved hearing you come. I wish I could have seen it. I love making you come and watching you come."