Nora Turns a Trick

I replied, "Josh, I'm running a business here. Like, you wouldn't expect to get a free drill set from Sears." Sears just happened to pop into my mind at that moment. It wasn't enough for me to leave it at that. "Just to be clear, you hired me to blow you. I'm not your lover, or girlfriend, or even a friend with benefits. If you see me downstairs, don't come near me unless you are ready to pay me again for something else."

He was saying "Nora, let's do it together -- I mean we can both masturbate and then we can then watch each other." He must have known that was a Hail Mary play on his part.

"I just told you that you would have to pay for that."

After responding, I turned and unlatched the door. I knew he was noticing the seat of my black skirt as I walked out. A moment later, I had closed the door and I was going down the stairs. I knew he was going to use his memory and imagine doing something with me as he jerked off in there.

I decided to use the larger ladies' room in Wagner Hall across the way. After I had washed off my sticky hands, I realized something: I was horny. After about one out of every five tricks, I felt that way. Of course, there were a few times when I did come during a job by fondling myself as Josh had suggested I do with him. Once in a while, a customer paid to finger-fuck me, although they were mostly rather inept at it and I'd usually had to finish it with my own hands.

On that day, it wasn't Josh himself that was arousing me, merely the idea of his big cock and the large amounts of semen it had put out. I went into the last stall and removed my panties. Josh would have liked to have known that my stockings were indeed thigh-high and thus I didn't have to remove them.

Then I took a dildo out of my ample bag and sat down. My legs were spread and I propped my boots on the stall door. All I thought about was being penetrated in my cunt; in my fantasy, there was no man attached to the thrusting dick going into my body.

It was a very nice dildo too, a thick plastic rod with many little bumps on it that felt delightful, particularly on my clitoris. No electric assist was needed. If another woman came in while I was in there banging myself, I probably wouldn't have stopped unless she was in the stall right next to me -- an unlikely case in a room that big. I was trying not to moan, and the dildo sliding in and out didn't make much if any sound.

In any case, I didn't really care what a stallmate thought. I didn't want to lose the beautiful momentum that was I building up. It was so strong that I peaked in a few minutes. My legs slammed together and I leaned back. I opened my mouth at my climax but I tried to stifle my voice, and only a few soft gasps of pleasure emerged from my throat. If I had yelled as loudly as I wished, then probably I would have been heard in the hallway.

Then I sat there and relaxed on the seat. It was amusing to see my panties hanging from the coat hook.

It didn't seem worth going back to Finley and trying to get back to my book again. Also, I had a premonition that some other guy would try to pick me up, and I'd have to refuse him. It was rare for me to turn two tricks in one day, and I was feeling weary at that point.

Just to be naughty, I stuffed my underpants into my bag and left the room bare under my skirt. As I walked up to Amsterdam Avenue to catch a cab to the subway station, I swung my hips back and forth. Yeah, guys, there is a very sweet little backside under this skirt, but you're not going to see it, much less touch it, without giving me some cash first.

On one hand, after nine months of this job, feelings of shame and guilt were well developed in my mind. I wasn't a whore in the colloquial sense of being a bad girl. Rather, I was truly a prostitute. Although like most prostitutes, I had gotten into it almost by accident.

And I felt fear too because I was often carelessly putting myself in unsafe situations. That Josh guy turned out to be okay, but I was alone with him in that room and nobody knew where I was. I coped with my emotions by covering them over with a false sense of hyperbolic, and nonsensical, bravado.

Nora, you truly are a sex goddess, the hottest chick on this campus. Almost every one of the 5,000 men up here -- the straight ones, anyway -- would like a crack at you, but they all have to pay what I demand for that privilege. That's okay; let the horny little fuckers give me their money. They mostly have contempt for me anyway.

And no price will allow them to enter my golden vagina, or to spank my evil but divine backside.

I was feeling so good with Josh's money in my bag that I decided to take a cab all the way to my home in Queens.

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Both Finley and Wagner Halls were left over from Manhattanville College days and have since been demolished. The water tank room was a real place in Finley.

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