Small Town Sex Workers Ch. 01

"Um, what, Mom?" I'm a bit lost.

"You're doing well in school and you don't complain about the household chores. You deserve a reward for being such a good son... You like pussy. Don't you, Daniel?"

Shaking my head from the unbelievable conversation, "Of course I do, Mom. Sex is fun."

"I've got a pussy. I want to reward you with my pussy," she tells me. "You've been helping around the house and getting good grades. You deserve a reward." She leads me by my hand to her bedroom. Caitlin is the only client I don't worry about making a mess in her bed or forgetting about the occasional condom wrappers. Her husband never comes into the main house. And the cleaning staff knows how to keep their mouths shut. They don't want to risk being deported. I wouldn't be surprised if Her Honor is also doing tax evasion.

Caitlin is all smiles. She leads me to her bed before pulling off the few clothes that she's wearing. There is a noticeable lack of undergarments. I shuck my clothes, and follow after her.

Caitlin is my most 'vanilla' client. No oral. Only vaginal. Only face to face. Prefers missionary. You get the picture.

She hands me a tube of personal lubricant as I crawl up to her. I look at the tube. I drop out of character, "Caitlin, this brand will dissolve the condoms that we can use."

She groans. "I'm sorry, Marc. I've been fingering myself watching you mowing the lawn. And nothing's happening. This is the only brand that my doctors said won't have a contraindication with my meds." I'm not 100% sure what she said, but I gather that's a bad thing.

I mull things over in my mind. "Do you need a Hall Pass, Miss Caitlin?"

Her face brightens, "Will I get to talk to Daniel again?"

"Just this one time, Miss Caitlin. Talk to the doctor people about what condoms I'm allowed to use with you."

She throws her petite body onto me. She is passionately kissing me. I remind her, "I still need to get the lube, Mom."

"Oh! Sorry. Sorry, Daniel. Do the thing," she mutters as she allows me to coat my dick in the lube, and smear a good sized glob across her twat. "I think we're ready to go." I say as I wait for her agree.

She furiously smears the lube around her entrance while pushing some of it into her body. After a quick kiss, she tells me, "It's time for your reward, Daniel."

She eagerly pulls me into her lubed cunt. I gasp at how quickly she was able to get everything to how she wanted it. For the first time ever, I'm in Caitlin completely unprotected. This is not a good thing. Any foreign material in her is a bad thing. And she wants me to cum. I'm worried.

Responding to my gasp, "I know, Daniel! This is so good! I need to reward you for being such a good son." I start to reply, but her judgeship clamps a hand over my mouth. "I don't want to hear any of those things that your friend, Marcus, has said to you. This is just us." She is slamming her crotch into me. Forcefully. I'm surprised that she doesn't need to take a breath.

"Daniel... I know I can't have any more babies... but fuck me like I could?" Yeah. It be like that some times. She's had a... what was it called? A radical hister-wreck-tommy? When she had the breast cancer, it had ma-tass-to-ass-o-sized? Whatever. It spread to her ovaries. They took out a lot of her plumbing.

I do the best that I can to give her what she wants, I can only be so rough with her.

She squeals happily like a young woman when she feels me cumming in her. We don't say anything for a while. She stares at me while I lay next to her as she pets my hair. I have to fight back tears.

I know that she's actively dying.

Some light kissing before she lets me out of bed. And only after my phone's alarm chimes. I don't have time to take a shower. I'm hoping that the new client will let me take one before we do any of the funny business.

Caitlin follows me to her front door. "Hey, Marcus." She has my attention. "Um... I want to give you a gift." She goes to her purse sitting on the side table near the front door. She's going to pay me. I think that she believes that if she calls it a gift, it's not paying a sex worker. "You've done such a good job being Daniel's friend and giving him sound advice." I palm the cash.

I give her a quick kiss. "Maybe some day you and I can have the same fun that you and Daniel have."

There is a conflict of emotions on her face. "I don't know. Daniel can get jealous."

I give her naked ass a quick squeeze. "I don't think he's as jealous as you think he is. I'll be back in a couple of weeks. Right?"

"Oh, yes! I can't take care of the lawn. And John won't. I'll see you in a couple of weeks."

"Stay healthy, Your Honor." I bid her farewell.

*****

In the truck hating myself, I clamp the burner phone into the holder. I poke it to give me directions to the new client's home. Something feels odd. The map looks weirdly familiar. I shake my head to drop the thought. I have been in the tank about Caitlin's health. I need to get out of it in order to do the next job.

I pull a couple of pre-made protein drinks out of the cooler to drink on the drive to the new place. I poke the 'Go' button, crack the seal on the first drink, and put the truck into drive.

*****

My brain is starting to panic. I'm no longer feeling annoyed that I was lazy and didn't put the empty carton containers from the protein drinks into a trash bag. I'm driving through my neighborhood.

I can hear myself muttering, "No. No. No. No. No," wondering which of my neighbors contracted me. There are so many bored and lonely MILFs here.

I shudder when GPS tells me to turn right.

Into my driveway.

What. The. Actual. Fuck?

*****

After sitting in my truck for several minutes trying to figure out what I'm supposed to do. I finally give up. I'm not making any money this afternoon. I don't have any clients that I can just go to. They're all on schedules. Either because their grass doesn't grow that fast or because they need to know when their husbands won't be home.

I turn off the truck and grab my cooler and the trash. I walk up to my parents' home just like I always do. I belong here.

I see Mom's Rav4, Krista's beat to shit ancient ass Bronco is here, but Dad's Silverado is missing. Which is interesting, since I dropped him off at the airport Wednesday for a two week business trip. One of them is obviously borrowing Dad's truck. Who am I going to find at home?

I walk inside and drop the cooler in the kitchen. I hear her ask from a far part of the smallest house in the neighborhood, "Marc?! Are you home?"

My folks are by far the poorest in the neighborhood. But they ain't hard set like some of my high school classmates were. Mom's an insurance broker. Dad's a structural engineer. Basically, he goes into a construction project and does the corrections that the architects didn't think of. Which is why he's gone so much. Fixing problems that someone else created and refused to acknowledge that there is a problem. It's not a 9 -- 5. But when he has a job, he gets fat paychecks. Mom provides the consistent money. So to speak. It's still intermittent.

"Yeah, Mom. It's me. I need to take a quick shower though. Today has been super weird. Like comic book level weird."

She doesn't respond for a full 30 seconds. "Ok. We can talk about it at dinner." Her voice is wavering. She's nervous. She has no clue that I already know what's going on.

I get dressed in some old basketball shorts and a well loved band shirt. Once I walk back into the living room I get peppered with questions. "What happened? You're home super early. Did your client forget about their appointment? Did your mower break down? Did your client fire you? Did McCoy's not get the materials in time?" I finally get a chance to see her. She is fidgeting with the spaghetti straps and hem of her yellow sundress. She looks super pretty in it. The floral print suits her personality. Her dirty blonde hair shot through with chunks of gray is pulled back in a pony tail at the back of her head. It bounces around crazily as she frets. Her nails are freshly painted bright blue. She has her favorite perfume on. A very floral smell. Not to my liking, but definitely Dad's.

Mom has been running as a hobby. She was recently in three different 10K's. Houston, Plano, and San Marcos. She regularly trains with Krista, my sister. They will disappear for an entire weekend and show back up sorer than hell. Their legs are hot to the touch and need ice pack for hours. I usually have to admonish them for being so stupid and pig headed that they won't remember basic first aid for their legs and core. I may not have a degree, but I've learned the hard way about over doing it. But, yeah. I get tired of being their fill in physical therapist.

Mom keeps asking me questions. I can't even keep up with them. She's becoming more demanding about why I'm home so soon. I lie to her that I got a text on my phone because my watch vibrated. I get my phone and turn my back to her.

Fortunately, for me she turned around to busy herself with something else, hoping that there is something business related to distract me and make me leave the house once she saw which phone I picked up. I secretly take a photo of her butt. Wearing that pretty yellow sundress that barely comes down half way on her toned thighs.

I send her the photo of her butt with the text, "I'm here. On time. I'm not sure if that dress is something you'd want to wear when you're gardening." I made sure to include the gardening reference. I click send.

A couple of seconds later, I hear Black Sabbath's 'Iron Man' starting up. Mom jumps to her phone to shut it up. Her back is still turned towards me. At least she has hopes and aspirations for the services that she signed up for.

Mom's phone clatters onto the floor. "I. Uh. I... Uh... I..." she stammers.

"Would it help if you looked at me...?" I intentionally cut off the last word. I don't think she needs to hear me call her 'Mom' at the moment.

"No. Tha, tha, that will definitely no, not help rye, right now."

"What would you like me to do?"

Still not looking at me, "Go watch something on TV. Until, until, I, um, can figure out how to have this conversation with you?"

I wait at least 30 minutes for Mom to come into the family room. I pause the show that I'm half assed interested in. I see her in a pair of short sports shorts and a loose promotional tshirt from one of her recent 10K events. Her toned legs are on full display. Her tight core is obvious despite her efforts to wear a shirt to hide her belly.

"I want you to read this... But you have to promise not to destroy it." She is holding an envelope in her hand.

Feeling a bit odd at that limitation. "Ok. Promise."

She drops the envelope into my lap as she sits down next to me on the couch. She is watching me like a hawk.

I open up the letter. It's written in my father's shitty cursive.

"Claire, Darling.

I love you deeply and dearly. I am not asking for a divorce. But I cannot keep up with your sexual cravings. Your needs for sexual contact are much more profound than mine. I haven't had any real interest in sex for a couple of years. Since I've developed my health problems, I don't find sex enjoyable.

I'm not the guy that I was in college. Having an erection now feels... wrong. I think that God is telling me that my time is done. We have two beautiful, smart, and potentially successful children.

I'm willing to let you go out and find someone that can fulfill that sexual need for you. As long as it doesn't remove me from your life. I do still deeply love you. I want you to be wise in your decision of who will replace in in that function. I want you to stay healthy.

Please, don't flaunt it in my face. Keep the future lover a secret from me..."

I stand up and drop the letter. Mom has been watching me the entire time. She says to me, "You didn't finish reading the letter." I'm one of those idiots that uses their finger to keep track of what they're reading. She's know exactly where I stopped reading.

"I don't know if I can finish reading it... I need to go to the bathroom." I wander off in a haze.

When I come back into the living room, Mom is still sitting there on the couch. She's twirling the remote. She looks up at me. "Can we still cuddle? Like we always have?"

She's referring to the impromptu movie nights because her and Dad had a fight. But it was normally three of us. Krista is not here right now.

I haven't said anything yet. Mom gently grabs my shoulders and guides me to the couch. She pats the cushions. She wants me to lay down with my back away from the TV. I lay down with my right arm as close to the throw pillows as possible. She eases her body down in front of me. Using my arm as a pillow, as she faces the TV. She wraps my lower arm across her chest, leaving my hand on her ribs. She then pulls my left arm to wrap around her stomach. And the weird part is when she hooks her left leg over mine to stay balanced on the couch.

She clicks the remote, "I hope this is one of the Sci-fi shows that wanted to watch."

"It's one of them." She reaches over her head to touch me. We watch in silence.

*****

After the first episode, she gets up and goes to the kitchen. She brings a chilled bottle of tequila back with her.

Throughout the next episode we're taking chugs off of the bottle. She's uncomfortable with her new found knowledge of me. I'm uncomfortable with my new found knowledge her relationship with Dad.

In the middle of the third episode, Mom asks me, "When do you decide to..."

I reply, "Be a sex worker?"

"Yeah. That thing."

"I don't really remember. It just kinda happened. I don't even remember what was the real name of my first sex client. I only remember what she allowed me to call her."

Turning her head a little towards me, "Really? I would think that you would remember that."

"I think her death fucked me up. I can remember the house. Her bedroom. The intimate stuff. But the address? Her real name? It's like my brain is locking it away from me to protect me."

She grabs my arm. "She's dead?"

"Yes. She decided that she should have more control over her death and when it happened rather than the cancer," I say in a very mechanical voice.

"I'm sorry, baby." She pets my arm across her stomach. I think she understands that it was a completed suicide.

"There's nothing I could've done about it. She just wanted to feel some happiness before she died."

*****

After several more shots of tequila later...

Mom gets up at the end of the fourth episode of the dumb shit Sci-fi drama. She shucks her shirt. She's not wearing a bra. I see nothing but smooth skin. I barely see the profile of her face looking back at me. I understand her unspoken question. I pull my shirt off as well. She slides back up to me, and she hooks her leg over mine. Again.

Another episode and a couple of impromptu shots later...

She gets up during the credits and pulls her shorts down. I already know what is expected. I wiggle out of my basketball shorts. But I catch my boxers at the same time. I can feel my dick getting thicker. Pressing up against her ass. Caught between her cheeks.

Sixth episode and more shots...

She slides her panties off. I didn't get a chance to look at her twat. What I do get is her stuffing my cock in between her legs. The top of my shaft is directly nestled up to her nether lips. The tip of my dick is at her clit. And she's drooling like crazy.

My dick is so wet after a minute. It's a struggle to not want to pump in and out. It's a struggle to not want to penetrate her pussy. The only reason that I don't is because I know that I haven't been given permission.

When the video streaming program stops to ask if anyone is still watching, she lifts her leg more. She struggles to slide her body up. I reflexively slide down.

"I'm sorry. But I made a decision," she tells me. "Are you ok with that?"

"I'm fine with it. We'll deal with the consequences later. And there will be consequences... What should I call you? This isn't a role play."

"Call me Claire." With that I slide inside of her. She pushes the air out of her lungs. It takes a couple of pumps to get fully inside of her. My hands readjust to grab her left boob with my right hand, and my left hand to hold her pubic mound. I don't want her to fall off of the couch, as I'm pumping into her twat.

She huffs and puffs as we do the deed. It's amazing how tight Claire is. I can't understand what she's muttering. Her pussy is so wet and soft. Until...

Her body seizes up. Claire gives a surprised squawk as she shivers. That soft pussy is suddenly a vise grip on my dick. I recognize that familiar ripple in her vagina. She's trying to milk me.

"Claire! Claire! I'm about to cum!" I warn her. She responds by grabbing my hand off of her tit and slaps it over her mouth. I can feel her guttural shouts into my palm. What is she doing? I need to pull out, and she's keeping me inside of her by pressing me into the back of the couch.

I cum. Thick globs of cum jump out of my dick. Into her forbidden place.

Once we catch our breath and can feel our bodies relaxing, she stands up. My cock slides noiselessly out of her cunt. She cleans herself up with her shirt. I watch as Claire picks up our clothes.

"Follow me, sweetheart."

I get up and walk behind her to her bedroom. She hands me my shirt, and deposits the rest into her hamper. I wipe my dick off as I watch her climb into bed. When I climb into bed, Claire waits for me to lay down on my back. She rests that marathon runner's body across me. Her hands end up on my chest and behind my skull. My hands grab one of her butt cheeks and hip. I can feel myself leaking out of her, back onto my thigh. Claire pulls the blanket up over us before kissing me on the lips. Her lips are warm and inviting.

"Thank you, Marc. We'll talk in the morning." Claire tells me as she rest her cheek on my shoulder.

We're both out within a minute or two.

*****

I wake up to Claire running her fingers through my hair. I need to cut it if it's long enough for her to play with.

As if she's reading my mind, "You have such wonderful hair, Marc. I hate the fact that your father shaves his head."

I mumble, "That's in my future. I'm not looking forward to it. I just accept the fact that I'll be shaving my head when I'm his age. I can't be a blondie with thick luscious hair like you."

She lifts her body up off of mine. There's my reminder that we're naked and cuddling. She asks me, "Why are you going to shave your head? His family has no history of baldness. He does it because he doesn't like washing his hair. It's a personal decision of his."

"Wait. What?"

"Your grandfather still has all of his hair. I just don't argue with your father about his hair."

"But, Dad is always telling you to cut your hair."

"I want to keep him happy."

"Mm... Claire. What do you want to do with your hair?" I ask her. She rests her chin on top of her hands that are spread out on my chest.

"I want my hair style to be whatever my man finds attractive." She has a sexy little grin on her face. I can't tell if she's fucking with me.

"What if your man finds it sexy that you wear your hair however you want?" I ask her.

She squirms across my body for a moment, "Then he should be ready to pull a lot of hair clogs out of the shower." She kisses me on the nose. "I wish I had my long hair back... It used to be down to my butt when I met your father." I just watch her face as she talks. "Do you want me to have long hair again?"

"I want you to feel like you're pretty."

"And sexy?"

"And sexy."

"Will you brush my hair?"

"Why wouldn't I?" I tell her. She kisses me as she slides her body on top of mine. I can feel my dick getting hard.