Walking the Path

"AGAIN!" I commanded.

Mr. Jackson began his short thrusts, and I was losing my mind! The sensations were making me lightheaded, and I had to rest my face on the table. Soon his big cock was pulling right to the point of exit, and he would slam it back home. Both the speed and depth of his thrusts increased, and I could feel my cheek dragging back and forth on the table. Drool was coming out of my mouth as I could no longer form a single word. The best I could do was...

"Ooh.. oh... Ahhhh... Oh!"

Suddenly I felt a hand on my ponytail and my head was pulled back, bring my chest off the table. I have no idea how long Mr. Jackson pounded my ass and I didn't care... I wanted it to last forever! The tingling in my cock grew in intensity and my legs began to wobble. It wasn't my first orgasm, but it was my first by getting fucked and it felt intense.

He stepped up his pace and I was going out of my mind with pleasure! Then, like a bolt of lightning, it happened. I could feel every muscle in my body contract, my legs, my back, my stomach, my arms and especially my ass! My spasms must have sent Mr. Jackson over the edge because the next thing I felt was his hot liquid squirting into my bowels as my cock shot rope after rope of cum onto the floor in front of me.

"MY FUCKING GOD!!! SOOOOOO GOOOODDDD!" he growled through his release.

As his orgasm settled down, he slowly released my hair, and my head went flat to the table. My legs were so weak, I'm sure the only thing holding me up was his cock. He was rubbing my low back, once again, as he let his cock deflate in my stretched-out asshole. His retreat was slow and sensual, I half expected an audible 'pop' when he finally puled it out.

He guided me to sit on the chair and he took a spot to lean on the wall.

"If I was 20 years younger pretty girl, I'd keep you for myself."

He smiled warmly at me, and I reciprocated.

"You have so much to offer and any young man out there who doesn't see it, is a fool. There's someone out there waiting for you pretty girl, a guy who will love all that you offer and I'm including your big dick too."

I looked at him with a confused face.

"That's right... you have more to offer than just a sweet ass and a magical throat. Some guy out there is going to love your big cock too. I hope he's smart enough to marry you."

**

After graduation my life became fairly routine and boring. Gone were the guys, who's cocks I adored and so was Mr. Jackson. I lucked out with an occasional blow and go, but those became fewer and fewer. College wasn't really an option for me as my grades slipped immensely my senior year, mostly due to my cocksucking ways. I had lost all focus on my academics and as a result I had to work a series of jobs in the fast-food industry to save up enough money to eventually put myself through school. My parents were far from financially successful as the military wasn't exactly a high paying job, while my mom worked in the mall at a clothing boutique. My older brother got his education paid for via the military and despite many attempts by my father to drop my shenanigans and grow up, the military was not an option for in so many ways.

My younger sister was not only the family beauty, but she was also the brains in our house, and she was setting herself up for a full scholarship in a medical program at some fancy university. A part of me wanted to be petty but, in truth, I was happy for her and the bright future she had in front of her.

Popeye's chicken was my full-time job during the day, and I had a part time evening job at the local confectionary store just down the road from our house. The pay sucked but my parents were good about not charging me rent or making me buy my own food, so I was able to bank most of it. If I was making an honest effort, those essentials would be covered, something my father reminded me of anytime I did something he disapproved of.

With no real future planned, my time at the house was getting tougher everyday. My father was always on my case, and I felt bad how often my mom would have to come to my defense, causing friction in their own relationship. As tough as all of this was, it was spring, just after my 21^st birthday, when things went from bad to worse. The accidental death of my older brother crashed through my family in the hardest way imaginable. No one can prepare for the damage something like this does to your heart and no one took it harder than my father. He always tried to play the gruff military man and be strong for my mom, but I saw the change in him almost immediately. That, and there was the time I overheard him in the garage. His sobbing was so raw, I felt it to my bones. I wanted to go inside and help him grieve the loss of his favorite son, but then the screaming began. The sounds he made were terrifying and they were soon accompanied by loud crashing sounds as he performed an out of body redecorating of his man space. I felt both terrified and guilty.

The next few months got better in some way, but my fathers loathing of me was becoming too much and I could see the extra pain it would bring my mother. So that fall, when I drove with my sister to her new residence at UCLA, I continued, to begin my own journey. With nothing but my savings and a bus ticket, I headed to Nevada... Las Vegas to be exact.

I know my secret decision was going to hurt and surprise my mom, but I hope the lengthy letter I left, would go far in explaining why I needed to do this. It was better for dad, better for her, and hopefully better for me. I felt lost and I needed to find myself... suck a fucking cliché!

Vegas was not my original idea, but I felt with my limited skills, there had to be something for me in this customer-oriented landscape. I stayed in a sleazy rundown motel for the first while, as I tried to conserve my limited money and find work. Turns out the seedy watering hole down the block had a spot for a server and not wanting to pass up on any kind of income, I started right away. Besides the constant late nights, the job was easy, the regulars were harmless and most of my coworkers seemed pretty cool. I invested some money on a few provocative outfits and learned how showing skin and heavy flirting, really boosted your tips.

It was in my third week, when I encountered my new reality. I was not going to last long like this. Carla, the senior bartender had become a bit of a sounding board for me, and I took every opportunity to learn from her... based on her life's story, she was my definition of a survivor.

"Carla, do you know of any other bars hiring servers?"

"Why sugar? You sick of this swanky place already?"

"No, nothing like that. I... I just need to start making some more money. I'd love to get out my motel room."

Carla stopped what she was doing and gave me steady look that slowly turned into a smirk. "You could always do some extras." She shrugged her shoulders.

"Extras?" I was confused as I didn't know what that means.

She moved in tight with me and discreetly pointed to a table. "You see Kelly there? You ever notice she sometimes heads to the back only to be followed shortly by a guy?"

Truth was, I hadn't noticed, but no sooner had she asked me, I watched Kelly head to the back and sure enough 30 seconds later, the same guy she was just talking to followed.

"What's going on? She selling drugs? I don't want to get into drugs Carla."

She snickered at the conclusion I had jumped to. "No, honey, not drugs." She looked at me and she moved her hand back and forth in front of her mouth as she punched the inside of her cheek with her tongue.

"She's sucking dick?" I whispered rather loudly.

"Say what you want but she easily makes an extra $100-$120 a night." Carla clarified.

"They're paying her?"

"Last I heard the going rate was $20 a pop."

I did the math in my head. She had to suck a number of dicks to make that money, but hell I did it for free in high school.

"Funny part is she's a lesbian. But their ain't nobody here lookin for a pussy lickin, so she does what she has to. Had two kids before she realized she was a carpet muncher."

I was both surprise and impressed by a mother who would do anything to help keep food in the cupboards for her kids. I looked around the room surveying the general patrons that frequented the place. Not one of them could hold a candle to Mr. Jackson or any of my basketball friends, but money's money and a cock's a cock.

"Before you run out there offering blowjobs, it's a very discreet process and If you'd like I can help you line up a few guys and you can see if you're cut out for it?"

I gave a soft smile and nodded my head a few times.

"Plus, I wanna make sure we set you up with a right-minded guy. It's Vegas, but we still have some backwoods hillbillies who wouldn't take kindly to a pretty boy sucking their dick." I guess she read the hurt on my face, as she quickly grabbed my hand. "No harm intended honey. You got a lot of beautiful feminine things going on, and the outfits are killer, but if word got out to the wrong guy, we may have to put some stitches on that pretty face."

I understood what Carla was saying now. I was very passable, but even the best kept secrets have a way of finding a way out.

The next night I put a little extra effort on my eye makeup and made sure my lip gloss was close at hand. I wasn't sure if the opportunity would be tonight, but I needed to be prepared.

"You good to go sweetie?" I nodded to Carla as I put my purse behind the bar. "Odds are good tonight, Kelly had to cancel her shift, one of her kids was sick."

I nodded and got on the floor to start my shift and made a point of being extra flirty when I could... couldn't hurt right? I had just brought of tray of empties behind the bar when Carla slipped up beside me.

"Table twelve, guy with the black fedora wants to know if you're interested."

I looked past her trying to get a look at the guy, but it was dark.

"Uhm.. ya. What do I do?"

"Head to the employe's bathroom in the back, leave the door cracked, I'll send him back there momentarily."

Carla gave me one last 'are you sure' look and I wiped my hands on a towel and made my way to the back with butterflies in my stomach. I got to the bathroom and wasn't sure what to do, so I sat on the toilet and waited.

Less than a minute later, I saw the door swing open and in walked and elderly man wearing a black fedora. He wasn't ugly but he wasn't close to being handsome either. I was guessing early 60's but it was hard to tell with his oversized clothes.

"Hi! I'm Sam!" I stood up to greet him and he pulled out a $20 bill from his jacket pocket and threw it into the sink.

"Carla said you would suck my cock. I don't need a friend." He gruffed.

He was rude, but it is what it is. I sat back down on the toilet, and he pulled his jacket wide open and undid his fly with one hand. After a degree of fumbling, he pulled out the head of his cock and looked at me. I was expecting a little more nudity to work with, but whatever. I reached to grab it and pull more out but he slapped my hand.

"Blowjob doesn't need hands." Man, this guy was cranky.

I lowered my face to his groin, and he had an odor, not a gross odor but like old man odor. I put his head into my mouth and locking my lips around his mushroom cap, I tried to encourage more of it to come and play, but quickly realized they wasn't a whole bunch there. I had his head in my mouth, my nose was sticking through his zipper and there wasn't much to suck. It wasn't very hard either. I increase my suction and worked magic with my tongue to get this guy harder and thirty seconds later he spit a couple of drops in my mouth and pulled away. He was still tucking it back in when he left, leaving me in a state of shock. *What the fuck was that? Did he cum? He didn't even get hard?*

I collected the $20 from the sink and put it in my back pocket as I headed back to the bar. I could see Carla's face was full of questions. I poured myself a whiskey shoot and did a quick mouth wash... I felt sick to my stomach, and I could feel tears trying to break free.

"Honey? You, ok? Did he do something to you Sam?" She had her hand on my shoulder and moved close.

"N... no, nothing like that." I sniffed.

"Ah sweetie, maybe this just ain't your kind of extra." She offered supportingly.

"I love sucking cock Carla. That was nothing like a blowjob. He didn't take it out, he barely got hard and his cock spit in my mouth before I could even start sucking! It was horrible!"

"Horrible... but easy money honey." She pointed out.

She was right, but the whole thing ruined my plan. The thought of getting paid to suck cock was the first time in a long time that I got truly excited about something, and that old fucker just blew it for me. I couldn't make money doing this... like that! Carla tapped my butt and told me to go make some tips as she sauntered down to her end of the bar. I pulled myself together and understood I was going to have to hustle tonight to increase my tips.

My luck turned around a little as a large group of younger guys came in and took up several tables. They were celebrating something, and their gregarious nature was welcomed, as my flirt engine went into high gear. I was getting lots of butt pinches, and 'what time do you get off' comments, and my tip jar was looking the best it had since I started here. After an hour or so the boys were wrapping it up, receiving a few marriage proposals, my ego felt much better.

"You did good work their sweetie! Usually when a gang like that comes in it's for a quick round and out the door, but they stayed for you."

I smiled at her compliment, and I was feeling a lot better about myself.

"I know you're having second thoughts, but if you want to give it a try, I got a really good-looking guy on hold."

I looked at her and my immediate reaction was no, but her face was literally glowing.

"Why are you looking at me like that? Who's this guy?" I demanded.

"Ok, hear me out. An old friend of mine came in and we were chatting. He was really impressed with you... your friendly demeanor, your hot body, he was asking me questions. You see Sam, he owns a ladyboy bar at the far end of the strip and he's always looking for talent."

"He wants me to audition for his bar?"

"It's a very high-class bar, that just happens to employ women like yourself. Some just serve while others also escort. If you're looking for money honey... here's your chance."

I looked over her shoulder at the guy who was sitting near her workstation, and he flashed me a sexy smile. He was a very handsome man, maybe in his 30's and dressed impeccably.

"Go say hi honey, what've you got to lose?" She smiled at me.

I smiled back at her weakly and slowly walked towards the man.

"Well, aren't you a sight." He smiled. "You're even prettier up close! Max Landy, and you are?" He put his hand out.

"U... uhm, Sam. My name's Sam." I watched his massive hand make mine disappear.

"Well Sam, I won't take up too much of your time, I know tips go a long way in your job. Carla speaks very highly of you, and she's never steered me wrong before. I think I could use a girl like you at my establishment. It would be more conducive for you, and you'll make more money that's for sure!"

"What would I have to do?" I asked carefully.

"Nothing illegal I assure you. My club caters to a specific clientele Sam. Men who need a special woman in their life. They come to my club to meet these kinds of girls and some... well most... like to play with them too, if you know what I mean."

I gave him a small smile. He wasn't truly forthcoming with details, so I figured I'd follow the advice of my grade 7 teacher... there's no such thing as a stupid question.

"Are you a pimp Mr. Landy?" His eyebrows shot up with my question.

"A pimp? No Sam, I'm not a pimp. I own a transexual club and many of those who work there also choose to work as escorts. Nobody is forced to escort; in fact, I have a number of girls who strictly work and serve at the bar. If someone decides to escort, my club vets the individual and we make sure the girls are safe."

"And you do this out of the kindness of your heart of course." My sarcasm was a little thicker than I intended.

"The club does retain a forty percent fee for these services; however some girls will do private calls which circumvent the fee but it also removes us from all aspects including security."

"Forty percent? That's almost half!" I wasn't hiding my disdain very well.

"I can see how you would perceive that Sam. But think of it in these terms. You have a say in who you will go out with, we make sure they're who they say they are, and we will be nearby for protection if something goes awry. That type of service costs money too... AND... forty percent of $500 is still good money. Tell me Sam, how many backroom blowjobs do you have to perform to make $300? At the going rate around here, that would be around 15 cocks... no?"

His math was bang on and suddenly I didn't feel like he was trying to take advantage of me as much.

"Even for the truest of cocksuckers that's a lot of cock for that sum of money. Two dates would be over two months of working extra's here."

He looked a little smug, but when your argument is so easily won, I guess you reserve the right to be cocky.

"So, what do I have to do? Sign a contract, fill out an application?" I still had some edge to my voice for some reason.

"Oh, nothing so contemporary. Think of it as more of an... audition so to speak." His smugness turned sultry. "Everything I own is invested in my club, so I make sure my girls are not only of the highest quality in looks, but also in... talents."

It wasn't that subtle, but it took me a moment to catch the meaning at the end of his statement. I looked at him and then down the bar to Carla who was watching our meeting with interest. "Where do we do this... audition?" I asked.

"I believe this establishment has a viable space that's been used for certain deeds, does it not?"

I guess we were doing this I thought. I walked behind the bar and gave Carla a look of inquiry and she gave me a soft smile and a nod. Max was waiting at the end of the bar for me and together we walked to the back. I gestured to the washroom, but he stepped back and held the door open for me and I giggled at the ridiculousness of the moment. I sat down on the old toilet and looked up at his face. He had that rugged handsome look and a very fit body, in short, he was a major step up from old Fedora head guy. I reached up to cradle his package through his expensive pants and had an immediate jolt of excitement.

"Mmmm!" I involuntarily moaned at the size of what was hidden underneath.

I undid his snap and pulled down his zipper feeling him flex himself as I went by. I reached up and gently pulled at the waist of his pants and he wiggled a little to help my progress. I left his tighty whitey's in place for the moment and lowered his pants to his ankles. The bulge in his underwear was enormous! I looked up at him to see he was watching me closely... evaluating me. I bit my lower lip and decided I could wait no longer. To say his cock sprang out would be a severe understatement, If I hadn't moved back when I did, I bet he would've bruised my chin!

With the obstructing material out of the way I was now face to face with the biggest cock I ever saw! It was even bigger than Mr. Jackson's and that's saying something. Without pause, I immediately took him into my hands and gave his plum sized head a sloppy kiss and it leaked in approval. I ran my tongue under the head a few times and watched it throb, forcing more precum out of its large pee hole. I slobbered my saliva all over the crown of his cock and savored the taste of his pre juice. I worked my saliva down his large cock with both hands enjoying the heat and firmness. Memories of the lane jumped into my head as I smiled at my fond memories of the boys and of course, Mr. Jackson.