CD Rebeca Vegas Play Pt. 02

Sometimes he'd go first and ask me other typical questions like, "Cool night for a walk, wanna ride?" or, "Have you seen Rosie? I haven't seen her lately? Maybe you could help me," or, the pointed, "How much do you need?"

Either way, we'd do the dance and make the deal on the street as cars passed. Usually he'd solicit me, but sometimes I would "need money" and ask him first. Then with a little contrived trepidation some haggling, then a request from me for him to prove he wasn't a cop by exposing himself and allowing me to touch his cock. Then, as I touched his cock I would, of course, compliment him on his size and firmness and seem to shift my interests from the business aspects to the sexual thrill he was offering. Then a business agreement would be reached and I would get in the car and begin groping him as I told him where to take us to find a secluded "location to fuck." There were variations of this typical role play, but these parts were pretty much part of every playtime we had.

An aspect to our play that I need to clarify was that although Darrin paid me very poorly, especially considering the quality and enthusiasm for the actual acts we did, he always had me keep the money. We agreed that I would use the money to buy new kinky clothes, makeup, and even pay for the extra gas I was using to meet with him. He as as generous as he could be and the extra money helped more than I expected. Soon, I also looked very authentic.

Then things took a turn.

One night we planned to meet on the strip without riding over together. We agreed that not being together ahead of the role-play would add more "heat" to it and we decided to change things a bit. Darrin planned to have me park and then walk a specific portion of the boulevard starting at 9:35pm. According to the plan, he would then pull up and the play would be on. We both felt this was far hotter because I was totally in-role the whole time. Unlike the meet, ride over, get out role play, we'd only see each other when the role-play started at the solicitation. This difference made things much hotter and we did it four times.

Then on the fifth time things changed forever and our role-play, and essentially our relationship came to a screeching halt.

Darrin was in a bad wreck on his way over, a roll-over collision with a dumb out-of-control street-racer. He went to the hospital and I lost contact with him for about three months. He had long-term injuries to recover from and his ex-wife came around to help him recover. We lost contact and never really played or had sex again.

On the night of the wreck I had no idea he wasn't on his way and I looked amazing too. I put some extra work into getting the right mix of hot, slutty, and cheap. I wore a mix of things we had both seen other actual whores wearing and we both liked a lot. I wore a black bra with falsies that was easy to view under my black sheer long-sleeved clingy sheer snap-crotch top that was climbing up my ass with the hips over my miniskirt. The top was see-through and amazing. My miniskirt was a really hot. It was shiny red patent-leather with a flaring hem that went only to my upper thigh, exposing my bare thighs between the skirt hem and the tops of my gartered black "X" lined stockings, not fishnets, but sheer stockings with a pattern. My mid thighs were very pale and the effect was to look very suggestive and slutty. I also wore my best black short-heeled ankle-high pump-style boots, my wonderful auburn wig, and, as always, way too much makeup. I had an extra-heavy layer of gloss on my full pouty lips. My small black patent-leather purse was slung across by body between my false tits, the way actual whores wore them so they wouldn't fall off if they needed to run. I wore no panties at all, but my cock was semi-hard and sticking upward into the middle of the front of the miniskirt, and as such, it was actually somewhat hidden.

I didn't have a cell phone at the time, they were still crappy and too expensive to be worth it at that time, so I was on my own and had no way of knowing it. At first I believed that he was just running only a few minutes late. Then time passed and my imagination began developing elaborate reasons he hadn't picked me up. I wondered if he was trying to make it hotter by delaying. Maybe he stopped to pick up a second guy, named Juan, that we had played with at his house a couple of times. Juan had a large cock that I liked a lot. I imagined the two picking me up and "having" to satisfy them both. I got excited at the possibility, but then realized that Juan being added in wasn't probably the reason.

Then I got cruised a several times by a few guys. Three guys for sure and a possible fourth guy were circling me. I was quite pleased with myself.

When that happened I imagined Darrin, and possibly Juan also (why the hell not?), sitting up the street watching me and jacking off as I was cruised by other horny guys. I looked all over the place but, of course I couldn't find him.

By that point I thought Darrin was only about ten or fifteen minutes late. I also had to start turning down guys who were actually pulling up and starting the solicitation dance. I was asked by my suitors "Do you want a ride?" or "Nice night," or, my favorite, one horny Mexican guy arched his back against the driver's seat to show me his huge hard dick, pulling back the foreskin and all!

I smiled at him, but nodded, "no."

It grew late and I turned away about ten guys. At some point I realized that Darrin was at least a half-hour late. In reality, he was over an hour late. Days later I recounted the events and came to the rather conservative estimate that he was at least a full hour late before I made three decisions.

My first decision was that I was done walking the street. My feet and calves ached from the high-heels. I wanted to sit for a while and give them a rest.

My next decision was that, despite my sexual drive still being in high gear, I was giving up on Darrin, at least for the night. I was both disappointed and more than a little angry. So, I turned and walked back toward my car. As I walked I began considering where to go and what to do. After all, I was all dressed up with no one to blow.

Wait, I thought, that was as wrong. Not just wrong, I was as fucking far as I could be from truth. I had plenty of cock to suck!

A warm realization washed over me and I knew I was exactly where I was supposed to be. I was exactly where I would get the horny cocks I really wanted. I could be the whore as I'd always dreamed of- exactly my own mantra. "Be the whore I always wanted to meet."

The universe aligned to drive the point home for me. A guy that I hadn't noticed cruising me before that moment turned off Santa Monica Boulevard driving over the crosswalk I was about to use. He pulled up on my left, his car's rear end partially in the crosswalk and blocking my way and the window dropped down. I stood, still about to cross the street, and looked the car and driver over. The driver was a clean white guy with light blonde hair, not my all-time favorite sexual type, but this was not the to time or place to hope for some huge black cock that wouldn't want more than I was prepared for. The man seemed to be a good looking, sane, and was probably super-horny married guy in his 40's. He looked over at me and nodded at me as a greeting. He drove an expensive dark sedan and smiled in a friendly manner. Again, he appeared sane and seemed to be what amounted to "low risk." He wasn't drunk or creepy looking. He looked like a "normal" looking white guy.

The man nodded again, urging me over and then nervously checked his rear-view mirror and the street area around him. Then he looked at me again, paused, and went for it. He asked me another popular line, "Where're you headed?"

A second rush went over me as I looked the guy over. He still looked nice and sounded sober. He was a horny cautious mature guy who was in the mood for something exotic. I thought, perfect!

My second decision was to actually commit and be a prostitute. A deep guttural rush of adrenaline and wanton cock-lust washed over me. Something clicked. I decided do it once, just once, I told myself. I desperately desired to be paid for sex as a street-walking whore for real. I smiled as my insides jumped and adrenaline pumped through me. I figuratively and literally crossed the line as I stepped off the curb and over the wide crosswalk line to the street. I went to the driver's side and leaned my elbows on his car, careful to not put my hands or fingers in such manner they could lifted for identification. I stood there a second and studied him and got a "safe" feeling about him based mostly on his manner- he was extremely excited and shaking a bit from his own adrenaline.

In my best femme-voice I finally answered, "I'm headed to my car," then added the words that changed my path forever, "'Ya looking for a date?"

"Yeah...I mean, please," he responded.

"Cool. How much can you spend?"

"What are you offering?" he fished.

"That's not how this works. You have to ask me and then you have to prove you are not a cop." I smiled but also came up off his door and looked around to see if there were any problems. There weren't

"Um, well I want a...a...bl..blowjob. I ahhh, want a blowjob from a gurl like you...a shemale or tranny or whatever... a sissy girlie boy"

"Great!" I smiled, and then said, "I'm really, really good at that. So, now prove to me you are not a cop?"

"How, uhm, how uh," he stammered.

"Show me your cock and let me touch it. Cops aren't supposed to let me do that. Its entrapment." Not exactly correct, but at the time I didn't know that.

"Oh," he said. Then he lifted his shirt tails from in front of his crotch and revealed a nice meaty German sausage of a cock. It was about six inches and fat like a thin can of soda. "Here you go," he said proudly.

I smiled and he smiled back as he saw my hungry expression.

I reached in and gripped his cockhead and then jacked his shaft a few times. Then I said, "Ok, so your not a cop, and you want head. Can you spend forty bucks?"

"Um-yeeah, sssure," he replied

"Ok, unlock your door and drive us up the street a little ways."

He did, then we parked and I took care of the business first, like a pro! Then, forty bucks in my bra, I leaned over to his lap, pulled his pants down and took his naked cock in my mouth. It was amazing! I must have been pretty good too, because I sucked him off inside of two minutes. He was leaned back in his driver's seat and it seemed like just when I got into a proper down-up-down-up rhythm he asked me to slow a bit then said, "Ohhhhh, fuck, I'm aaaahh" was all he muttered before he shot in my mouth.

As he came he moaned and I loved how he tasted. I swallowed his cum. Whores aren't supposed to do that, but I was actually new and did what I wanted to do!

About a minute after cumming he was pulling out and turning back toward the boulevard to drop me off. As he drove we talked a bit.

He said, "That was fucking hot...fucking amazing...damn, I really liked that." A moment later he went on, "I almost never cum that fast. You're really good at that!" Then as we neared the boulevard my new friend "John" told me, "At first when I saw you I wasn't sure if you were a woman or...uh, a special gurl." After an awkward silence he added, "Uhm, that was supposed to be a compliment. When I stopped and you looked over at me I still wasn't sure. Even when you spoke I wasn't sure. Then when you were closer and so actually nice and direct, I knew you were exactly what I wanted. Anyway...uhhhm...you look hot and I really hope I see you again." He stopped the car and said politely, "This is where I'd like to drop you off, ok?"

As we paused three car-lengths or so from the boulevard, it occurred to me that this short ride was the second most dangerous time in the process. The myriad of risks included the police, the guy changing his mind about the payment, the guy wanting to go again, or, serious, but unlikely, that he was a serial-killer kind of guy. This guy clearly wasn't and he thanked me as I stepped from his car. We both smiled and he said he wanted to see me again, and soon.

The concept of "again" punched me a bit as he drove off and I resumed my walk to my car. It was about two blocks away.

He'd said, "I want to see you again." Hmm, I thought. Again. Was I going to do it again? As I proceeded down the next block a good looking "normal" black guy passed me and smiled as he slowed his car to check me out. Was the universe aligning again? So soon?

I returned the smile to the nice looking black guy.

Then I made my third decision.

Yes, being a whore again was going to happen. I caught his gaze and nodded toward the next block and found him sitting waiting for me as I reached it. The black guy was married, with his wide band on. He wanted "something exotic" that night. He saw me and knew I was what he wanted, a white t-gurl. We agreed to a half-n-half, or a suck and fuck. Negotiations were brief and he offered to pay with two one-hundred dollar bills from a wallet filled with other large bills. After reaching the business agreement I was very excited and got in his car. As we drove I stroked his full-size cock through his pants and took him to a place Darrin had fucked me in several times, a dark area in front of an otherwise well-kept house. As we drove I realized that I hadn't had a giant black cock in a long time. I knew I could handle him, but still, I planned to suck his cock really close to orgasm and then have him fuck me and fill the condom. When we parked I opened his pants and he grew to be much larger than I was actually ready for, but business is business. He got his half-n-half, but about one minute into the fuck he was just hitting my insides too fucking hard. I told him and suggested in between moans that he might really love to end the session with a deep blowjob. His cock was pummeling my anal curve because I wasn't relaxed and prepared for his nine inches of thick black dick so far up inside. He kept fucking me and punching me deep inside my sex. At about a minute into the fuck I realized that my ass-curve wasn't going to shift and I wasn't going to be able to take him all the way inside me. The pain was overwhelming. This was the reality of the business aspect of prostitution- I couldn't just say I was done. Based on his non-reaction to my suggestion about the blowjob I decided to just do my best and take it. I tried wiggling, but the curve wouldn't adjust and accept him beyond my anal canal.

So, I started moaning deep and saying things I thought would make him cum faster. I painfully moaned in a manner that sounded like a sexual moan and said, "Ohhh yesss, I love that big cock! Fuck me and cum...cum in me...give me that hot black cock cum!"

He kept going, but sounded like he was actually trying to cum hard and fast.

After about two minutes of enduring his cock I finally pleaded, "I want your cum down my throat...cum on, pull out and let me suck you!"

After two more thrusts he pulled out and stripped off the condom and said, "Suck it white bitch, suck it all!"

I turned and sucked his giant cock and looked up at him in the dim light of his back seat. He put his hand on my head and held me down on his cock. I held his gaze and saw his eyes roll back. Then I felt his giant cock swell and then throb as the cum shot all over the inside of my mouth.

I sucked off two more guys and got well fucked once more before concluding the night's sex adventure. I left Hollywood and drove by Darrin's house and saw that his car wasn't there. I still had no idea that he'd been hurt in a bad wreck so I wondered who he had ended playing with and got more than a little disappointed. The idea that he was in a wreck and hurt didn't enter my mind. I was frustrated with him.

By the next night I let the whole situation with Darrin go and I decided to go play on Santa Monica Boulevard again. That second night, a Friday, was beyond my fantasies! I sucked six guys, got fucked three times, got sucked by nice straight men five times, and I came twice while getting fucked. A huge So Cal Mexican cock fucked my tight twinky bubble butt-ass and popped me over the spot till I first squirted all over his back seat and then he filled the cockhead end of a decent condom. Like a fiend, I was hooked on this new thrill.

I went back Saturday and then again on Sunday, until a police car spooked me and I left for the adult theater.

Street-walking was my new sex desire and latent addiction. I dreamed of it when I wasn't doing it and was sexually high as I was doing it.

Then, once again, things took a turn.

One night about two weeks later I was with a repeat customer and it turned out he was also known to the cops as a repeat offender. We got stopped. After a half hour I was "let go" or, more accurately, an older cop told me, "Get the fuck out of here before I change my mind." It turned out that the guy and I weren't caught in the act, but the police could make things very inconvenient and arrest us on suspicion of leud behavior. That night, for whatever reason, they didn't.

Then about a month later the same older cop detained me. He was curious about me because in his words, I wasn't "dumb or drugged out." He was curious about me and had a hard time accepting that I was doing it for fun. He cruised around with me for an hour and a half trying to understand.

Most of his questions were about why I was whoring myself. I explained the thrill and how my fetish was prostitutes.

Then, once more, things took a turn.

He was off his duty time but after seeing gurls like me over the years he was very curious. So, we stopped to go pee on the side of Mulholand Drive and he had me blow him then and there.

Over time the same policeman explored all of his curiosities, but always as a "top," never a "bottom." Eventually he expressed that he cared about me and essentially told me to get out of the L.A. area before my activities caught up and consumed me. He told me I had a lot going for me and needed to "straighten out" and move on from this part of my life. He advocated for something akin to a total life makeover, including seriously trying to drop the crossdressing and actually halt all sex with guys. He made a good argument and I was smart enough to consider it.

Ultimately, he was why I left L.A. After the logic sank in, I followed his advice and decided to straighten up and "fly right"- I joined Air Force and eventually arrived in Commercial Center, ass full of cum and being propositioned.

Now, almost a full year and a half after leaving L.A., cool March Las Vegas breeze cooled my hot little ass. I was freshly cast out of a tranny-whore club I was on my walk of shame. A decent looking guy in a car cruised me and gave me the "what's up" eye- the frequent visual precursor to a solicitation. The whole experience of whoring in Hollywood, dealing with the police, and several heart-stopping close calls with sick weirdos rushed back in a second.

But so did the other side of things. The thrill of wanton sex, the surprise of strange cocks paying to use me, the excitement of feeling a stranger who just paid cum in my mouth, or my ass... The an aching soreness deep in my sex welled up and the sex fiend returned. I knew could still try to talk myself out of it, out of being a whore, but if he did the right things as a prospective "John" and wasn't a cop I was going to give in. I was going to be the best whore-sex he ever had.

The nice guy in the nice car passed me, circled around the next lane over and he stared at me as he drove around again. Now, circle complete and back in my lane, he slowed as he approached. As he reached me he smiled, about to solicit me for what we both knew might be the best blowjob ever.