The Talent Scout 02: Emma’s Rise

She didn't look like the kind of woman you'd see earning a living on her back. She was also going well above and beyond what a prostitute would normally do to earn her money with such an obviously unsavory John.

The fat man held the girl's loins to his face, raising her lightly. They heard him kiss her flushed red skin softly, gently, soothingly. After cumming so many times in a row, they imagined her clit was hyper sensitive and probably more than a little irritated from the man's raspy beard and nipping large yellow teeth.

The elderly couple stole away quietly, leaving the strange pair to their privacy, but when they got home they role-played what they'd seen, inventing a back story and everything. Their lovemaking was enthusiastic and wild.

Meanwhile, Emma lay on top of Thomas. Her body was spent and soaked with his foul sweat. Her sweet face was pressed against his limp member, the bristly pubic hair redolent of cum, stale urine and a not unpleasant male musk that she somehow instinctively knew was his unique scent.

She had surrendered to the pleasure of the moment, pleasuring him with her mouth and even swallowing his semen while he ate her to orgasm after orgasm. The salty bitter taste of his cum lingered in her mouth. She felt a gummy unfamiliar residue lingering in the back of her throat.

She felt somnolent and lazy. Her body lay sprawled on top of the old man's fat form, loose-limbed and spent. She could feel his breath on the steamy skin of her sex. It made goosebumps rise all along her body and sent a pleasant shiver down her spine.

Her lips curved into a sweet languid smile. The world felt right at that moment, as if all the stars had aligned and stopped at the perfect spot just for her.

Her body rose and fell with his breathing since her torso still laid spread on his bulging belly and flabby chest. Her legs were spread and her knees rested on either side of his head. His arms were wrapped around her narrow waist and each large hand rested possessively on one of her firm round butt cheeks.

She was hot and completely drenched with his sweat, but it felt good... it felt right.

Yet more of her resistance and abhorrence to his appearance and smell faded away, to be replaced by something else she couldn't describe and refused to acknowledge.

Eventually, she slid off him on a pool-like slick of his sweat and lay on her back on the musty-smelling blanket with her eyes closed and her arms thrown indolently over her head... naked as the day she was born.

Thomas stared down at her and felt his member stir to life once again. Because her arms were over her head, her large perfect breasts appeared slightly stretched and gravity spread their large mass on her narrow chest.

Within seconds, that sweet chest rose and fell in the easy rhythm of sleep.

The leaf dappled late morning sun bathed her lightly tanned skin with an odd hint of green.

He pulled on his pants, he didn't like the feeling of his dick flopping around, took up the camera again and took pictures of the peacefully sleeping girl. Her body shone wet with sweat, her long blonde hair was a wet artful mess and her face was even more beautiful in the gentle attitude of sleep. He was sure the pictures would be absolutely amazing.

When Emma woke an hour later, her arms were numb after being raised over her head for so long. He had their lunch of bologna sandwiches, cubed cheese and apples spread out on the other blanket. He usually didn't eat very healthy but he figured he'd pack crap she might like for their all-day outing. To him, the food he packed was healthy, he preferred greasy fast food.

They spent the day having sex. Each time, the girl held back at first, put off by his bad smell and hideous ugliness, but little by little she became more and more willing. By the time he sank inside her she was fully committed and eager to participate.

Thomas came inside her three more times. Fucking her in positions he'd seen only in porno flicks. He was horribly out of shape and his stamina was shit so Emma had to do most of work at the end.

At six o-clock she lay draped across fat old man's heaving chest, her loins pulsing and throbbing as the last of a series of uncounted orgasms finally ended, leaving her panting and completely spent.

They were both exhausted after a long physically and sexually arduous day.

They shared the last of the sandwiches, drained a bottle of water each and packed everything up.

They spent the 45-minute drive home in companionable silence.

Emma studied the man as he drove. The sun had nearly set and he was shaded in gloom.

He was as hideously ugly as ever and yet she didn't feel the revulsion she previously felt. He was still fat, easily three times heavier than her, more than 300 pounds, the same ugly fat face, and the same hairy body. He dressed like a slob, smelled horrendous, and looked and acted like a pervert.

But he knew how to use his long thick tongue and his thick hard cock was magical when it was inside her. It was as if it was made especially just for her. It fit her like the proverbial key in a lock. It was thick and not very long, but its shape and girth hit all the right places.

His passion was a like a force of nature, like a tempest or a forest fire. It carried her along sparking a passionate storm within her and she had no choice but to burn just as hot.

The smell of his sweat, sour body odor and sex filled the car. It permeated her clothes, her hair and her skin. It was so intense she thought she could even taste it.

"I think it's gonna take me a while to recover from today," Thomas said as he made the turn onto their street. "It might be a while before the next shoot. You okay with that?"

Emma nodded. Her loins throbbed, her muscles and ligaments felt stretched and sore and her breasts were tender from his constant mauling. Even the bottom part of her face and her lips were raw from his raspy beard and the passion of his kisses.

When he parked in front of his house, they both sat in the car and stared straight ahead. It was dark out and not a soul was around, so there was no danger of Emma being seen getting out of his ride, but she just sat there.

Neither of them had any idea what to say. It had been an eventful day.

In some strange way, Emma didn't want it to end. The spot he picked for their outing was beautiful and serene, the shoot itself had been fun and exciting, and the sex had left her weak-kneed and completely sexually spent and satisfied.

Finally, she unlatched the seat-belt, opened the door and stepped out. The car ding-ding-dinged, the overhead light came on, then the door closed with a thump, the light went out and then she was just a shapely shadow walking across the street to her house.

Thomas unloaded the car, put everything away and was sitting back on his recliner watching TV when the reality of what he experienced that day finally hit him.

People in their homes up to two blocks away heard his whoop of joy.

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The minute she got home, Emma threw all her clothes in the wash and immediately jumped in the shower to wash the stench of sweat and sex from her body. She felt the sting of cuts, scrapes and chafed skin from an entire day of enthusiastic lovemaking.

The following Monday, it didn't register that she missed her period even after she made an appointment with her gynecologist scheduled for following week. All she knew was that she had to get a prescription for birth control pills as soon as possible.

She spent the week on pins and needles, both longing for and dreading the familiar text to buzz through on her phone.

She received the now familiar series of texts that Friday during her English class. Her notebook was nearly covered with pornographic doodles of her and the disgusting old blackmailer.

This time, for once, she was able to stop herself from giggling like an idiot.

The next shoot would be at his house the following morning.

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Thomas used the money she gave him to buy several sets of sexy lingerie using the measurements she provided on the night he first blackmailed her. He took hundreds of pictures of her modeling them in his bedroom.

He set up warm LED lights that didn't give off any heat and mounted a 4K video camera on another tripod that recorded everything in ultra-high resolution.

The fact that the gorgeous girl met him halfway when the shoot was finally done, just as eager as he to start the "fun," drove him to an even higher sexual frenzy.

Just as on the previous Saturday, they spent the day fucking. Their favorite position was Emma on top, grinding her loins against his while his hands fondled the big breasts dangling over his face like perfect ripe fruits from a tree.

He took her while she wore the sexiest, most provocative, and enticing lingerie he'd ever seen in his life. Seeing her in it turned him into a sex-crazed fiend. During the actual shoot, he'd hardly been able to control himself.

When they were finally completely drained, rung out like a pair of dishrags, Emma took a shower, put on the clothes she wore to his place and left. He watched her limp across the street, her perfect ass encased in a pair of tight shorts.

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Emma wondered what happened to the shame, humiliation and embarrassment she felt when the repulsive old man first blackmailed and started having sex with her.

She still thought he was a foul and disgusting human being, a perverted degenerate who took advantage of her and now used her as his personal fuck toy.

She was confused because she WANTED to feel shame, humiliation and embarrassment along with disgust and revulsion at his touch. The problem was that she did feel all those things but instead of repelling her, all they did was turn her on. She WANTED to be debased, used and humiliated. Those feelings only served to spice the raunchy, stinky, sweaty sex she was "forced" to endure.

He was a vile disgusting fat pig, but all she could conjure up was frustration and impatience when he didn't text her with the next shoot location.

On his part, Thomas spent the hours he wasn't working picking out Emma's best, most tasteful and original pictures, making prints and organizing the portfolio he planned to give his friend Bob... and dreamed about the next time he'd get to fuck the gorgeous busty girl.

But he held off.

He knew something like this could never last.

At some point she'd tell her mom and then the gig was up. He'd most likely go to jail for a long time.

The portfolio was important. If he did a good job and Emma was picked up by an agency, maybe she wouldn't tell anyone about his blackmail and their little affair.

He had no idea how conditioned she was at this point, how desperate she was to continue her descent into depravity and sexual corruption.

She was disgusted with herself for being attracted to the town pervert.

Emma had to know if there was something wrong with her. She decided to go out on a date with a boy she'd once had a crush on, the very one she'd imagined marrying someday, and see if he would elicit the same sexual response from her as the degenerate and disgusting old man did when they had sex.

She was frustrated and angry when Thomas didn't contact her that Friday to schedule their final shoot so she asked the boy out and he readily agreed to take her to dinner and a movie.

Her mother was upset and wanted to chaperone, but Emma stood her ground and eventually got her way, though not without a few conditions. She had to keep her distance, behave modestly and be home before 11:30 p.m.

She had no intention of honoring any of her mother's conditions except the last one. Not after everything she'd been through. She had to find out how she felt when she was with a young attractive boy her age.

Jamie picked her up an hour after school let out.

Emma waited patiently for him to make a move but he was meek and hesitant. He had none of the old man's assertiveness, none of his aggression and menace. He was tall, handsome and well-groomed. He didn't stink, as a matter of fact, he smelled very nice. He was lean, well-muscled, athletic and lithe. He was a running back for the varsity football team.

And yet she found him boring and plain.

She also found herself longing for the old man's dangerous, threatening presence, for his stink, for the feel of his hard throbbing bulge pressing aggressively against her.

There was something definitely wrong with her.

After they finished dinner at a fancy local restaurant, the boy walked her to his car and opened the door for her. This was the moment she decided to make the first move herself. She wrapped her arms around him and kissed him, pressing her big breasts against him and grinding her loins against his the way Thomas liked.

The boy kissed her back. He was passionate, but his shy passion had none of the urgency, none of the raging hunger, none of the burning lust she felt from the disgusting old man when he kissed her. HIS kisses fairly BURNED with need.

She felt the boy's hands on her breasts, squeezing hesitantly as if he expected her to bat his hands away and barely felt anything but annoyance that he was so meek and timid. She did feel his erection press against her, but when she reached down to grasp it, she was put off by its thinness. His member was slightly longer than Thomas' but had none of the girth and pure male power she'd grown so used to.

They got into the car and the boy drove a few blocks and slid to a stop in a deserted parking lot.

They tumbled into the back seat where the boy proceeded to tear open a condom. He spent half a minute rolling it down his thin dick and then shoved the latex-covered organ inside her, without a preamble, not even some quick fingering... nothing.

He didn't try to arouse her. He didn't try to please or pleasure her. His mind was completely centered on using her for his pleasure. He kneaded her breasts with weak nervous hands and when he tried to kiss her while they fucked, she turned her face away, finding his hot breath nauseating even though it was fresh compared to the old man's.

She wasn't feeling it. Well, she felt him inside her but there was none of the hideous old man's almost manic desperate lust, none of the wild passion, the desperation to possess and dominate her. There was none of the intense intimacy that made her feel as if she was the center of his universe, as if they were the only two people alive in the entire world.

She barely had a chance to feel anything. The boy thrust into her barely three times before he grunted, shuddered powerfully and filled the condom with his seed, leaving her frustrated and unsatisfied.

Not once had Thomas failed to turn her on or bring her to orgasm.

Not once had this boy considered her needs, her desires. He'd been entirely focused on himself the entire time.

She hid her disdain when he threw the used condom out the window, hearing it splat on the concrete outside.

Afterwards, they readjusted themselves and she sat dejectedly, slouching in the passenger seat while he babbled excitedly about how amazing she'd been, how well he'd performed, what a great couple they'd make at parties, and how jealous his friends would be that he went on a date with the prettiest girl in school. Hell, the prettiest girl anywhere.

She smiled, nodded and grunted noncommittally in all the right places, but she didn't plan on going out with him again. He'd been too big a disappointment.

She was frustrated and dejected. Not only because of his poor performance, but because of her reactions to him and the way he'd failed to measure up even a little bit to the nasty old perverted slob who lived down the street from her house.

The boy turned excitedly towards her.

"We could go see that movie, or," he dragged out the last word suggestively. "We can do some more of what we just did."

He looked as tail-wagging excited and eager as young puppy.

Emma shook her head.

"I don't think so, Jaime," she said gently. "Please take me home. I don't think it's going to work out between us."

He sat stunned then he wheedled and begged like a child trying to get his mom to buy him a toy.

Emma shook her head at all his entreaties and urged him to take her home.

Jaime stared at her, his handsome young face set in a mask of hurt and anger.

"You know what? Fuck you!" he shouted angrily. "Get the fuck out and walk home!"

Emma stared at him for a long second, amazed at his childish hurtful reaction.

He gripped the steering wheel and stared straight ahead, his chin thrust forward stubbornly... waiting impatiently.

She opened the door, got out and stood next to the car uncertainly.

He peeled off, the tires of his sports car screeching on the pavement. She watched him thrust a hand out of the window, middle finger pointing skyward.

Amazing! Who would've known her blackmailer, the town pervert, a man old enough to be her grandfather was a better lover and way more mature than the pretty boy who just left her stranded out in the middle of nowhere?

She looked around at the empty parking lot and when she found an intersection with street names she took her phone out of her purse and thumbed out a text.

*Thomas. I'm stranded. Can you pick me up? I'm on the corner of North 5th Street and Covington*

*Please come quick*

He responded after a few nervous seconds.

*On my way. I'm close*

She stood fidgeting impatiently on the corner, leaning against a light post.

Several cars passed. In the last one, a young man leaned out of the passenger side window, hooted and cat-called. She watched the brake lights go bright as the driver slowed down rapidly and made a sudden U-turn.

Frightened, Emma backed away as the car sped towards her with a roar, stopped within spitting distance and two men jumped quickly out.

"Hey, what's goin' on honey?" the driver said, with a false smile on his eager face. "Can we give you a ride home?"

Emma looked around and when she saw another car coming down the road, ran towards it waving her arms over her head.

As the dull headlights came closer, she heard the familiar clack, clack, click of Thomas' beat up old sedan.

Her sudden rush towards the coming headlights took the two men by surprise. They followed several steps behind, whooping and yelping like children running for the ice cream truck.

Emma ran out into the street in panic. The car swerved to avoid hitting her and screeched to a halt. Thomas tumbled out, got quickly to his feet and lumbered towards the two men roaring at the top of his voice and waving what looked like a short club in the air.

His arms pumped, his fat legs churned and his cheap shoes made a squeaking plat, plat, plat slapping sound on the pavement as he swung the short club aggressively in front of him.

The two men came to a sudden stop, turned around and scurried to their car. They dove inside and peeled out, flipping them off and flashing their brights before tearing off down the road and away.

Emma stood near the passenger side door, her chest heaving and her heart pounding. Thomas turned around with a huge grin on his fat ugly face. It was shiny with sweat and his beady, deep-set eyes gleamed with amusement and then admiration when he saw what she was wearing.

She wore a long pastel blue dress that hugged her tiny waist and wide hips. It hung loose from her thighs to her slim ankles. Her blouse was a lighter shade of blue that matched her enormous blue eyes. It was modest, but it was strange how that modesty only served to accentuate her full luscious breasts and curvaceous feminine body.

He stood staring at her bulging blouse, admiring her deep womanly curves and flowing golden hair stirred by a faint breeze.

When he finally looked up into her eyes, he saw none of the fear he'd seen in them when his car's headlights briefly lit her face. Instead, they were shining with gratitude and relief.