Kat Fucked Up Pt. 03

Kat moaned loudly. "Oh, God, I'm coming!" She shuddered and dropped her head to the counter, her shoulders and arms flushing red.

"Holy shit, girly! I can feel your cunt suckin' me in further!" With that profound proclamation, he gritted what was left of his teeth, thrust roughly into her a couple more times, then buried himself and grunted. When he was done and had slipped from her, Kat turned and went to her knees again, cleaning him off.

"You sure do like dick," the man commented.

"And come," responded Kat as she jammed her fingers into her twat and then licked them clean. She stood and returned to me, picking up her coat along the way. "Are you Billy?"

"Yep."

"Then I'll see you again," she declared, looking back, before heading for the exit. The man stood there, speechless, shaking his head.

Billy motioned me over and we chatted for a moment about her relative lack of experience before the last three weeks. He told me to warn him before we returned--if we returned, I corrected him--so he could get more customers lined up. "Oh, she'll be back," he called after me. "I guarantee it." I shrugged and left. As I exited and a blast of cold November wind took my breath away, I was greeted by the sight of Kat, the tails of her coat pulled up and piled on her back, hands on the hood of some car, while another man fucked her from behind. I rested the monopod on the ground and pointed the camera toward them.

The man looked over at me and grinned, then gave a big thumbs up. He slapped her ass a couple of times, mugging for the camcorder, then grimaced and came. Again, Kat went down and cleaned him off, then made a show of sticking her fingers in her cunt and licking them clean. The man hurried back to his car.

I walked over to where she stood, her coat open, goosebumps raised across her entire body. "Ready? Let's get home and light a fire. It's freezing out here." I sounded considerably more normal than I felt. She nodded.

###

Kat slept all the way through Sunday, waking after midnight to eat something before returning to bed. On Monday, she called in sick and spent most of the day sleeping. It was the first time I'd ever known her to play hooky from work. On Tuesday, she called in sick again but was up and around by mid-afternoon. On Wednesday, she returned to work as normal.

That weekend we stayed home.

On Sunday, she watched Sunday Morning, ate half a salted grapefruit, then granola over honeyed Greek yogurt, and drank strong, black coffee. We went shopping at a nearby Randall's for our Thanksgiving groceries. Our sex life returned to normal.

The night before Thanksgiving, she finally broke the silence. "How many men did I...how many men were there?"

I looked at her, evaluating.

"I've been trying to count them in my head, but I'm not sure."

"I counted 48."

She mouthed the number silently.

"So now you're up to an even 60," I told her, guessing the math that was going on in her head. "A month ago you were at six."

"It's...that's a little...difficult...for me to comprehend," she said quietly. "Are you sure?"

"We can watch the video. It's about two hours long, I think."

Despite her initial reticence, we spent the next two hours watching the video. The Canon had a great low-light processor, and only missed portions when the video from the monitor was especially bright. We counted together and totaled 46. Billy the store owner and the man in the parking lot made 48. Kat was almost clinical in her viewing, as if she were watching the video record of a research experiment.

At the end of the video as she watched herself licking semen from her fingers, she grabbed my hand and shoved it down the front of her sweatpants. "Feel how wet I am!" she exclaimed, then, "Let's go back!"

I called Billy to let him know. When we arrived that night, the store was packed. Instead of the gloryhole, Billy had cleared two shelves out and pulled a mattress to the center of the shop. She'd wanted to maintain some measure of public anonymity, so she wore a mask, knowing there would almost assuredly be souvenir photos and video. That night Kat took on 77 men. Several times she serviced five at once, when the men were adventurous enough. I recorded the whole thing. She wanted to know who had been with her the last time and who was new. Only 19 of the original men had returned.

"That's a hundred and eighteen," she said, as she slouched in the front seat. "Never in my life did I think I'd sleep with eighteen different men, much less a hundred and eighteen different men."

By the look on her face, I knew she wasn't stopping there. We pulled out of the parking lot and headed home.