The Girlfriend Experience Ch. 04

"You charge him... to talk?"

"No. Corey insists I take it. Wants to compensate me for my time. Besides, fifty bucks for an hour or two is nothing. I charged three to five dollars a minute to speak one-on-one with viewers when I was a webcam girl. And it's not like we have phone sex or anything crazy. Corey is a perfect gentleman. We talk like long-lost friends. He wants to know how I'm doing."

"And this guy sends you gifts?"

Her voice grew bubbly. "Lots of 'em. You'd be surprised."

I need a sugar daddy of my own.

The in-house buzzer boomed like thunder cracks from Heaven and yanked Lindsay from her memories of talking with Pamela yesterday and sent her stumbling as she hopped out of bed. OhmiGod. My first lineup!

Full of jitters, Lindsay wasted no time. She couldn't afford the fine for being late and rushed out to the hallway. She was ashamed earlier when choosing her outfit for the evening - a bridal white bra and sheer stockings, and a tiny thong that revealed far more than it hid. Jim helped her pick it out. What kind of girl wears lingerie like this and walks around in it but a slut? A sense of foreboding bit into her belly. Lindsay Michelle Anastacio, welcome to your new life: thot for hire. She had a pink bow in her hair, pink and white plastic bracelets dangling from her right wrist, and a pink ruffle around her left elbow. A pair of modest two-inch pumps completed the delightful ensemble. Remember, this is what you wanted.

But the negative feelings faded once Lindsay gathered the courage to mill around the house a while ago. Every woman she encountered loitered in revealing lingerie or a plunging, low-cut minidress. Lindsay was truly "one of them" now and blended in like it was nothing out of the ordinary. Colt and Jim paid her minimal attention too. Pfft, I can do this.

Pamela, Kenzie, Sahara, and Aaliyah soon joined Lindsay outside the kitchen as they awaited the lineup. Chillin' with my new squad. Scarlett, Riley, and Nicolette were busy entertaining other customers. Business was flourishing, so they wouldn't be part of the lineup.

Lindsay stole a peek of Pamela and was amazed she had spent three hours with a client this afternoon (and took his virginity in the process) and not a single hair was misaligned on her head. Sure, Pamela had since bathed, showered, and reapplied her makeup, but Lindsay would never guess she had spent her afternoon getting fucked.

Neither would any potential customers, and that was the important thing.

"Ladies, follow me." Jim led the group through the bar to the lap dance room at the far end. A gentleman vegged in the center chair, waiting to check out the merchandise.

Overcome with hysteria, Lindsay couldn't contain herself as she found a spot between Pamela and Sahara. All her tireless research since last fall was about to pay off - she was one hundred percent certain she'd be the girl chosen. Time to start saving for a car.

A thirtysomething, the customer was attractive. Lindsay envisioned him as a business executive from the Midwest whose marriage had grown stale and was here hoping to spice things up. I can't wait to see what's underneath your custom suit, sir.

"Hi, I'm Kayleigh! It's my first day!" The other ladies had animated, humorous reactions as Lindsay introduced herself and stepped back in line. It was subtle, but Pamela gave Lindsay a pat on the ass and offered a flirtatious wink afterward.

I wonder if Colt will fine her?

"Who will it be, Lucas?"

Pick me. Pick me. Pick me. I'm DTF!

The idea of this stranger taking her to a private room and having his way with her not only made Lindsay squirm with unfettered desire and anticipation, but she became so wet she had the urge to reach inside her G-string and play with herself. Lord have mercy; where are my Ben Wa balls and dildo when I need them? She was eager to take this man's dick, to do her lewd duty, and please him.

"I gotta go with Sahara."

What!?

Caught off-guard, Lindsay's world came crashing down like a house of cards and her stomach lurched. Sahara? He chose... wait, what, why?

She maintained her composure the way Pamela trained her to and followed the others out of the lap dance room while Sahara cozied on up and introduced herself.

"Lucas? Hiiiii! I'm Sahara. It's wonderful to meet you." The appreciation on her face was evident as she hugged him. "Hmm, you smell so good. Are you a local, or an out-of-towner on vacation?"

Deciding to break away from her coworkers, Lindsay's black shoes, sling-back designs with moderate heels, clanked as she stomped down the steps to the recreation room. That fucker chose Sahara over me? What the hell? What's she got that I don't? Heartbroken, Lindsay plodded straight to a stool in the corner and settled there.

I put on tons of makeup and go to all this trouble to make myself sexy, but that guy didn't even notice me! Lindsay flexed her fingers and her muscles quivered with hurt and frustration. What the fuck am I doing here? If I can't get noticed in this - she glanced down and regarded herself in the bridal lingerie - how am I ever going to get picked? I'll be passed over in every gosh darn lineup. She pounded her dainty fist on the table with a force that rattled a nearby flower vase.

"Hey. Wanna talk about it?"

Lindsay swiveled around and found Pamela's large, overflowing breasts at eye level. She hitched in a breath and had the sudden urge to peel away the thin fabric concealing them. Still, negativity won out. Her lips curled into a grimace. "I don't like lineups! That was humiliating! Degrading!"

"Don't take it personal. You can't." Pamela planted herself on a stool and squeezed Lindsay's wrist. A light blue, one shoulder minidress wrapped around Pamela's torso and showcased her flat, toned abdomen with an exposed triangle cutout in front. "No girl likes lineups, honey."

"Yeah? You don't say? Really? Tell me about it." Lindsay couldn't tear her gaze away from the swell of Pamela's breasts, and with the way the minidress was designed, her under cleavage.

"Lineups are part of the job. They're a daily reality and they're not going away. If a customer asks for one, we have to provide it." Pamela steered Lindsay's hand to her mouth and kissed it. "Again, you can't take anything personal here. I've been telling you that since you first arrived yesterday, haven't I? You'll go insane if you do."

"Rejection sucks!" Lindsay stomped over to the loveseat and tossed the two magazines that had been atop it to the floor. "It fucking sucks!" She snarled and her silky blonde hair swung from side to side.

* * *

Pamela figured this was the first time Lindsay had ever experienced any sort of rejection in her young life. It must be. Back in Citronelle, Lindsay stood atop a pedestal, and more than likely, the entire town catered to her every whim. Especially the guys she attended school with. Pamela was certain they'd roll out the proverbial red carpet whenever she walked from one class to the next.

But things were different here. Brothels were a competitive, winner-take-all environment. They were full of girls who'd been the hottest and most sought-after while attending high school and college. Girls who were accustomed to getting whatever they wanted. Some could adapt, but many failed and fizzled out.

Look at her. Lindsay's face was puffy, and she slouched on the loveseat with her arms folded, mimicking the image of a toddler who'd been sent to timeout.

But Pamela was wired differently. Instead of dismissing Lindsay as self-centered and telling her to suck it up, she was sympathetic. I understand. It made sense given that Pamela, a Psychology major, was fascinated by various human emotions and personality types. Everyone is unique and no one should be judged for how they feel.

Was it Lindsay's fault she grew up in a nothing, nowhere town, and her parents never allowed her to venture outside its confines? She's happy, she's cheerful, but has also lived under a rock, and despite being talkative, doesn't know how to socialize and integrate herself with others yet. Part of that could be chalked up to her youth, however another part could be attributed to being Citronelle's town princess who could do no wrong. It's not her fault. She just doesn't know any better.

Pamela had her viewpoint, unique as it was, but not everyone in the house shared it. Rumblings abounded that Lindsay's immaturity had rubbed one of the other working ladies the wrong way. Aaliyah thinks she's a spoiled little brat and should be put on blast.

First things first, though. Pamela needed to have a long talk with Lindsay about rejection and the best way to handle it. Colt won't put up with her if she becomes pouty and emotional like this. He'd fire her without remorse. Every time I get passed over in a lineup, I deal with rejection too. I don't like it but refuse to let it bother me.

Another thing Lindsay had to learn about this job, Pamela thought, was that she was selling a product, and that product was her. Although the money could be lucrative, Lindsay would have nights where things wouldn't go her way. Not every customer would be interested in what she had to offer. Likewise, not every customer was attracted to Pamela either. We all go through slumps. To see other girls succeeding and raking in money while she was having a slow night was difficult.

Working here can be a surefire way to practice hating yourself. Lindsay couldn't allow that cycle of rejection to affect her. It was constant and would never end. If she wasn't careful, Lindsay may wind up feeling worthless in the long run.

Maybe even suicidal.

"What's wrong with me?"

Pamela's heart plummeted once a dramatic whine escaped from Lindsay's throat, each word louder and more animated than the one before it. In the blink of an eye Pamela was kneeling beside Lindsay, one arm around her shoulder, and a hand grasping her kneecap.

"Nothing is wrong with you, sweetheart." Pamela moved her hand to Lindsay's upper thigh. "Nothing at all."

Lindsay stared at that hand, which radiated empathy, however it wasn't enough to topple her dismay. "Why didn't that guy choose me?" The grimace remained.

Instead of talking Lindsay up and giving her a rah-rah speech, which may sound disingenuous, Pamela took the simple route. "I don't know, honey. But I do know that man doesn't realize what he's missing." Yet her soul ached when the hurt deepened in Lindsay's eyes.

* * *

"That lineup made me feel like shit! I... I don't know if I can do this anymore. I don't know if I want to do this!" Am I attractive enough for this job? "I feel so out of place here. I'm the youngest girl and everyone else has tons of experience, and when I compare myself to someone like you, there is..."

Lindsay's world and everything in it exploded in flames once Pamela's soft, precious lips swooped in and silenced her with a kiss. The world froze; it was as if time had stopped, and Lindsay sensed the negative emotions she had experienced thus far fade off into oblivion.

They were gone, just like that.

Lindsay relished Pamela's tongue upon her mouth and, no shyness or hesitation on her part, leaned in closer to maintain contact. The kiss may have only lasted three seconds, but it was long enough to make Lindsay's soul come alive. Her heartbeat accelerated and helped unearth powerful emotions that she had never known.

When their lips parted, Lindsay let out a deep, contented sigh, gazed into Pamela's eyes, and found her heart gushing with love and endless affection. Kissing Pamela was warm and delightful and gratifying and thrilling and made Lindsay's body hum in the most exhilarating way imaginable. It made her believe that she had died and gone to Heaven. Without question, those few seconds were the best few seconds of her life.

"I said," Pamela, her features glazed over as well, whispered against Lindsay's sweet, pliable lips, "nothing is wrong with you." She splayed a series of butterfly kisses along Lindsay's cheek and stopped shy of her ear. "Nothing."

Everything in Lindsay surrendered to Pamela yet begged for more at the same time.

Did Lindsay have any idea how adorable she was when she blushed like this, a perfect combination of sultry and innocent? It didn't often happen, but a whirlwind of mutual, red-hot attraction swept Pamela up too. It didn't matter why or how, either, or for what reason - Pamela wanted Lindsay's delicate, nubile curves beneath her in a hot, naked tangle in bed.

Right now.

"Never doubt yourself, baby. You're gorgeous and will make a ton of money here in due time. Trust me, okay? I can't believe how gorgeous you are."

Lindsay braced herself as Pamela's mouth met hers once again for a tenacious, hungry kiss. It was like a runaway locomotive this time that continued to pick up speed. Wanting to match her aggressiveness, Lindsay grabbed Pamela's long, braided ponytail and coiled it around her fist as they assaulted each other's mouths.

Tongues dueled and explored every nook and cranny. Lindsay's hands traversed the length of Pamela's spine, her shoulders, touching and kneading her sides. God, Pamela was amazing, divine and voluptuous, and so tempting as a sensation gained traction between Lindsay's thighs that could only be taken care of in one way.

"What would you say about going up to my bedroom with me, honey?"

Her heart dancing, that was the best idea Lindsay had ever heard. "I'd like that."

"Kayleigh!"

Both ladies glanced back to the stairwell where that familiar voice originated from. Colt was on bent knee at the top, his eyes fixated on them, his expression conflicted. "Kayleigh, you have a customer in the lobby asking to see you. He saw your pictures on our website and is intent on booking a party."

Pamela scowled and her head dropped as Lindsay's complexion paled. A customer? Now?

How could such a magical moment be squashed? Lindsay had waited forever to be kissed by another woman like this! She and Pamela were seconds away from making this into a far more amazing experience, too, one she'd cherish for the rest of her life.

But it got interrupted.

Colt cocked an eyebrow. "Should I tell the man you're not available?"

"No," Pamela said for Lindsay with a simper. Like Colt, she understood they weren't in the business of turning potential johns away. As tough as this was to accept, she and Lindsay would have plenty of time to play later tonight. "Give us a few minutes, okay? I'll have Kayleigh ready as soon as I can."

Colt rose to his feet. "Hurry. Time is money." He backpedaled and disappeared.

"No!" Lindsay was beside herself but spoke in a low tone as Pamela twisted to face her. She didn't want Colt to hear her protesting. "I want to be with you! Let's go up to your room!" Lindsay's whiny voice intensified. "Please, Pamela! Please!"

"You're here to make money and a client wants to see you." Pamela understood that the customer always came first. She and Colt were interrupted earlier this morning, too, when Charlie showed up and picked her for a GFE. "How about we spend some time together after you see your customer? Just you and me, okay?" She lifted a strand of Lindsay's hair and let it fall back into place. "We'll pick up right where we left off."

Lindsay shoved away and sank into the sofa as a tear plummeted down her cheek.

"You need to make some money. It's why you're here, right? And don't forget, you still owe me six hundred and sixty-three dollars." A thickness formed in Pamela's throat for saying that last part, but she hoped it would snap Lindsay back to reality. "We'll have plenty of downtime between clients to enjoy ourselves, I promise."

"You're right, I guess."

"So, wow, yeah. Your first client. How exciting!" A brief smile of realization overtook Lindsay's lips as Pamela added, "Remember, honey, you're still in training. If the client is okay with it, I'd like to sit in and listen to you talk with him. And I'll do the negotiations for you, too, as long as the customer doesn't mind."

Right. You're my Big Sister and you're helping me out this week. Showing me the ropes.

"But if we can agree on a price, you're on your own with the customer after that. I'm not going to sit there and watch the two of you have sex."

How about we make it a threesome, then? Lindsay no longer cared if her first girl-girl experience took place during a party. I want Pamela, plain and simple, and I want her right now. I don't want to wait until later tonight and I'm fine if it's in a threesome with a random client.

* * *

"Sammy!" A few moments later, Pamela broke away from Lindsay, rushed over to the man in the parlor, and seized him in a long, spirited hug. "Oh my God! Sammy, I haven't seen you since Christmas! Where have you been?"

Rooted in the shadows, Lindsay craned her neck to obtain a better view. Who is this man? Sammy? You're... older. Wow, a lot older. You remind me of Uncle Craig. Her pulse kicked up. I'm skipping out on being with Pamela for you? What made you choose me off the website? A wave of tingles spread through her from head to toe and she couldn't take her eyes off him. I like older men.

This was a different feeling than being in the lineup earlier, too, one Lindsay couldn't explain. Oh my. You asked for me by name? Do you want me naked and to have sex with me? Can I... can I do this with a stranger?

"It's not like you to be away from us this long, Sammy!" A colossal grin pulled at Pamela's mouth as she pecked his cheek. "I've been worried sick about you! I haven't seen any posts from you on the bulletin board in months."

"I'm still here, fortunately. Alive and kicking!"

"Sammy is one of our best mongers," Colt said.

Monger? Hmm, that strange word again. What does it mean? Pushing her curiosity aside, Lindsay assessed the man. He was older, at least fifty-five or sixty in her estimation, with white hair and a stocky, muscular build. He was well-dressed, sophisticated and handsome, dressed in a button-down shirt and slacks.

His hand was groping Pamela's ass too.

"You still live in Salt Lake, pal?"

"Sure do. Will never leave it."

Pamela squealed and wiggled her hips as Sammy pulled his hand away.

"Sorry," he said to Colt. "Couldn't help myself. You're quite the lucky man."

Lindsay nibbled on her lower lip, drew her shoulders back, and gazed at Colt. He didn't have any visible response to Sammy touching Pamela.

"Been back up to Alaska for any trout fishing?"

Colt is accustomed to random guys showing up and fucking his wife. Lindsay offered a nonchalant shrug. It's happened thousands of times before, so why would he show any reaction to this guy putting his hands on her? I bet he didn't even notice.

"Oh, yeah. I travel to Alaska as often as I can. I love trout fishing almost as much as I love this brothel."

"Sammy, I want you to meet Kayleigh." Pamela motioned toward Lindsay. "Today is her first official day on the job."

"Hi," the sweet blonde girl said before casting a nervous, momentary glance toward Pamela. I think I like him. "It's a pleasure to meet you, sir."

"Whoa. Your first day?" Sammy plugged his eyes back into their sockets as he appraised the young woman before him that he'd soon purchase, her innocence accentuated by the lacey lingerie that it made his chest constrict with desire and tenderness. Lindsay's downcast blue eyes glowed with an adorable shyness and her awkward stance from wearing the pumps made Sammy want to sweep her into his arms and carry her off to bed.