The Fall and Rise of Amandeep

Bray was standing above my head and appeared to be having some difficulty getting hard. I pulled him towards me and took his cock in my mouth. While Gary had at least had the courtesy to wash his cock before his blow job, Bray hadn't been so considerate. His hands were still covered in oil and grime, and his tiny, bud-like cock tasted of oil, stale piss, and sweat. I wondered if he'd even bathed that day. However the feeling of my tongue wrapped around his tip seemed to have the effect I was looking for and as his stinking cock eventually began to come to life, I let my head fall backwards and allowed him to start fucking my mouth.

A welcome distraction from having Bray's foul cock in my mouth was the more skilled cock of Tyler giving me such amazing sensations in my pussy. Unlike Gary and Steve, Tyler varied the depth, strength and angle of his thrusts so every push felt new and different. The sensation of being completely full of cock was like nothing I had experienced before, even with the rabbit which, I now realised, could not compare to a real cock.

Tyler was the first man to give me an orgasm. I felt the familiar rush build up in my pussy and stomach and began flicking my clitoris with my fingers which I knew would push me over the edge. Seeing I was turned on, Tyler redoubled his efforts; filling me completely with every hard, deep thrust as he slowly increased the tempo. I came loudly, moaning and swearing in Punjabi as Tyler quickly pulled out and emptied his balls over my black skirt which was still bunched up around my waist. He shot three long ropes of cum over me, each aimed at an unsoiled part of my skirt before easing the final drops out and flicking them onto my shaved pussy. Evidently satisfied, he zipped himself up and stood back as Bray continued to enjoy my tongue and lips around his cock.

Bray seemed to like touching my small breasts through the fabric of my white blouse and bra with his filthy hands so, as he continued to fuck my mouth, I unbuttoned my blouse to give him better access and to prevent him from completely ruining my clothes. As I felt his hands slide into the cups of my bra and tease my firm nipples, his cock started twitching in my mouth and his orgasm neared. He began thrusting as hard as he could against the roof of my mouth - his limited size prevented him from getting as deep as my throat - and I knew that in a few moments he would dump his cum inside me.

When his moment arrived, Bray pulled out and started wanking himself between his fingers and thumb.

"Open wide, whore," he said, just in time for me to open my mouth and feel his milky wetness squirt onto my lips, chin and neck in a volley of short blasts. The salty smell of sperm filled my nose as he carried on wanking, his knees buckling slightly as his orgasm gripped him in a short moment of ecstasy. As his pleasure passed, he pushed his cock back into my mouth for me to drain out the final drops and clean him with my tongue. Satisfied, he pulled out and zipped himself up.

I can only imagine what I looked like, lying on the makeshift bed: my blouse open, black finger-prints all over my breasts, my skirt pulled up, and three loads of cum decorating my face, pussy, arse and clothing. The only guy who hadn't used me was Smudgie and since he was older and hadn't gone to the ATM, I assumed he wasn't going to take part in my gangbanging, instead choosing only to watch. It looked like my ordeal was at an end and the guys all started preparing to go home, leaving me to recover on the plyboard.

All except Smudgie. He stood up, walked over to me and took out his wallet.

"Four hundred, you said?" He counted out a thick wad of notes and threw them down on top of the pile of notes already littering the makeshift bed as he started to unbutton his jeans. The other fitters seemed just as surprised as I was and immediately stopped what they were doing, looking from me to Smudgie to see if I would accept the offer of four hundred pounds for anal sex.

"Steve - would you fetch the Vaseline and wet-wipes from the toilet please?" I couldn't have made my intentions any clearer.

Sometimes in life there comes a point at which you just let go of the fears, conventions, and assumptions you have held onto and no longer allow them to shape your life. If this point had not already passed for me, it did in that moment. Half naked, drenched with sperm and about to rent out my arsehole for the pleasure of an old man, my life reached its nadir. These times are often the moments of greatest clarity and for me, I knew I would thereafter follow a very different path. I resolved that this would be the final indignity and that I would take control of my life, whatever it took. No more worries about jobs, money, and - most of all - reputation: I would simply do whatever it took to look after Mum and myself to the best of my ability.

Steve returned with the Vaseline and wet-wipes and handed them to me. The fitters used Vaseline to remove paint, oil and grease from their hands at the end of the day and both the jar and the Vaseline itself were black from their dirty hands. I knew you shouldn't use Vaseline with condoms because it perishes the latex but it was the best thing available. I dipped my finger into the dirty jar and scooped out a liberal amount which I smeared over and into my bumhole before passing the jar to Smudgie, who now had his trousers around his ankles and was putting on a condom. I wiped my fingers on a wet-wipe but decided not to clean off the cum that covered my face and body. I wanted to look as filthy as I felt.

It took Smudgie a few minutes to get himself hard. He stood between my open legs and wanked himself as I took advantage of the delay to finger my bumhole in readiness for what it was about to receive. Smudgie watched avidly as my fingers eased their way in and out of my hole and before long his thick, hairy cock, while still not completely hard, was sufficiently turgid for him to attempt his entry. Shuffling further between my legs, he took his cock in his hand and placed his tip on my opening.

It took three failed attempts but at last Smudgie's cock defiled my final unsullied hole. Pulling apart my bum cheeks, I desperately tried to put to one side the pain and discomfort as he pushed himself deeper and deeper inside me. I knew I had taken much bigger things in my arse and that if I had had time to prepare I could easily have taken Smudgie's average-sized cock, but whether it was being fucked that way for the first time or just anxiety about how dirty it might get, I couldn't relax and although Smudgie took it slowly at first it took a long time for the discomfort to pass.

It clearly felt much better for Smudgie. As soon as he started gently thrusting inside me, I felt his cock become harder as it warmed to its task. Gripping my thighs with his arms, he started to quicken and deepen his strokes as my bumhole at last relaxed around his cock. Tyler, Bray and Steve watched on enviously as the old man's gristly cock plunged as deep as it could go inside me. Every so often, Smudgie removed his cock completely, spat on the tip, then thrust himself into my bum again, harder than before. Although the oldest of the fitters by far, he seemed to have more stamina than the others; building up the tempo and showing no signs of tiredness. Eventually he stopped and pulled out roughly.

"Up against the wall," he ordered, pulling me up from the plywood and leading me to one of the few walls that didn't have equipment and tools in front of it. I rested my elbows on the wall, clasped my hands together and awaited a further onslaught.

He was inside me again in a flash, his legs spread wide to compensate for the considerable difference in our heights. My elbows and forearms scraped against the breeze block wall as he pounded me as hard as he could. Although uncomfortable, I found that in this position Smudgie's cock was hammering against my sensitive clitoral network and I knew that if he kept up his frantic fucking of my arse, I would cum quickly.

And keep it up he did. I began to wonder whether I should have asked for more money as he stretched my arsehole almost to breaking point. I concentrated on a picture of the Michelin man on a poster inches from my face, trying to put aside the contrasting feelings of pleasure and pain in my pelvis, but the sensations were so intense nothing could keep me from enjoying them for long. Eventually it was the turn of my knees to buckle and I came noisily around the old man's cock, my arsehole squeezing his shaft more tightly with every wave of my pleasure.

Moments later, it was Smudgie's turn to cum. With a few final thrusts he pistoned himself inside me, his body arcing backwards as he slammed his hips against my aching bum and his balls gave up their seed. His cock pulsed wildly inside me as, gripping my breasts firmly, he shot spurt after spurt shot from his tip in what must have been his first release in a long time. He slowed his cadence, reducing it to one deep, hard thrust whenever he felt more cum reach the tip of his cock. Eventually, utterly spent, he stopped thrusting and slowly pulled out.

"Fuck. Condom broke," he grunted, as he reached for the wet wipes.

Looking round, I could see the tip of his cock, smeared with his cum and my own mess, protruding from the ripped bulb of the condom and I felt the first droplets of his cum begin to drip out my arsehole and down the inside of my thigh.

Only Steve stayed back after the other fitters left to check I was okay, help me clean up, and to offer me a lift home. With my clothes covered in cum and oily hand-prints on my blouse, I was glad of the offer. At least Mum was still in hospital and wouldn't see me arrive home in that state. What would she have thought? My utter humiliation was complete.

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So what was it like growing up as a Sikh girl in east London? Like everybody else, I made my way as best I could with the hand I'd been dealt. If the incident in the workshop was my lowest point, at least the only way was up and it's fair to say I've come a long way since packing in my job at the garage.

The eleven hundred pounds I made that day was enough to keep Mum and me in food, heat, and medicines for a while and it meant I could be very selective with my first few clients. One or two a day kept me going in the early days and, with mum often in the hospital, the flat was usually free for me to entertain. I realised that white guys were prepared to pay a premium for an attractive Asian girl and my prices went up as quickly as my bookings. Now I meet men exclusively at hotels so the house is my refuge from the world, such as I need one. Five years later, with my money worries over, Mum sadly dead, and my degree course almost complete, the world is once again my oyster.

So will I continue to escort once my degree is complete? Steve, my fiancé, says I shouldn't but I disagree. When you've hit the very bottom it changes your perspective on life. I'm in control of my own life now and I intend to keep things that way. Besides, I quite enjoy my job. Why toil for hours for a pittance when you can earn good money lying flat on your back?

Typical Amandeep - always following the path of least resistance.

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