Wilson's Whore

She blinked hard at his trashy words, not understanding why her heart raced or her pussy ached so bad. Something about being told she was a slut cut to her core. She sucked him harder and faster, hoping he would keep doing it. She wasn't disappointed

"Getting paid makes you a whore," he said, rhythmically thrusting in and out of her mouth. "You're no better than the girls in that movie. You're a cocksucking slut, just like them."

He was right, of course, and Kelly's excitement soared. She never thought she was better than those girls. Different? Yes. Better? No, Kelly wasn't raised to think of herself as "better than" anyone else.

"Open your mouth," Wilson insisted, breathing hard. He had a wild look in his eyes as he brushed her hands away from his cock. He kept one hand behind her head, keeping her mouth trapped around the head of his cock. With his other hand, he tugged and pulled on his shaft. "Look at me," he growled. "I want to see the look in your eyes when I shoot my cum inside your mouth." She looked up, waiting for it, wanting it on a level she had never experienced. A moment later, the first splash of his hot, salty seed splashed against the roof of her mouth. "Keep your mouth open," he cried out, groaning as he ejected spurt after spurt inside her mouth, against the back of her throat, the roof of her mouth, and eventually along the length of her tongue. "Now swallow it all and show me it's gone."

Kelly closed her mouth and swallowed twice to make sure it was all gone before opening and sticking out her tongue as if he was checking her tonsils. Wilson smiled, looking very happy. He slapped his heavy prick across her cheeks in both directions before letting go of her hair. Kelly rocked back up on her heels and looked up at the strong man wearing a contented grin as if she was seeing him for the first time. The needful ache between her kept pace with her racing heart. She struggled to regain her composure before asking, "Was that better than a nasty old cigarette?"

-

"It makes me want one more than ever," he said.

"But you can't," Kelly insisted, afraid she had subjected herself to him for no reason.

"You're right. I don't have any and you have all my money."

"Good," she sighed, relieved. She handed over pants.

"I don't think I need those," he said, content to sit bottomless. Slowly, his cock lost its firmness, falling between his legs and resting on his shaved balls, still thick, but no longer hard. "How's it feel to be a whore?" he asked with a friendly smile as if asking about her grades.

"Honestly? I'm excited as hell."

"Are you going to do anything about it?"

"I don't do that," she reminded him.

"You did this afternoon."

"For you, not for me," she said, pointing out the mental technicality that had allowed her to do it.

"So, you're just going to stay horny?" he asked. She nodded. "Interesting. You know I'm going to do later."

"Really?"

He nodded. "And I'll be thinking about you when do."

"As long as you're not smoking, okay."

"After work tomorrow, I'll give you the rest of my cigarette money for the week."

"Okay," she said, unable to keep her eyes from roaming between her legs. She was fascinated that he remained half naked and it helped keep her mind off getting paid by him.

"Cindy only works a half day on Fridays, right?" he asked.

"Until I show up at 1."

"Fuck, I forgot you close on Fridays," he muttered. "That's going to make my morning difficult. Knowing I was going to see you this morning was the only thing that kept me off my smokes."

"You'll see me at 1," she reminded.

"Promise me you won't wear a bra again tomorrow."

"Promise me you won't smoke between now and then."

Wilson rubbed his half-hard cock, but he also nodded. "So, as long as I stay off cigarettes and keep giving you money, we can keep doing this?"

"Make it a week and I'll have sex with you."

"And what about after that week? I mean, how long are we going to do this?"

"I don't know," she said. She hadn't thought that far in advance. "For the rest of the year? How long do need to be smoke-free before you're sure it will stick?"

"I don't know," he shrugged, wishing they weren't talking about smoking. The more they talked about it, the more he wanted to do it. "What if you find another boyfriend?"

"What if you find a girlfriend?"

"Good point," he said, realizing there was no reason to cross that bridge before they got to it. Wilson kept fiddling his his cock. Why not? It was his and he liked how her eyes kept drifting in that direction. "Just so you know, since I'm paying for this, I'm going to treat you like a slut every time we do this."

"Okay," Kelly said, wondering why it felt as if her heart soared with that news.

"I'm serious. And right now? It feels as if I'm paying for it twice because I really want a damn cigarette."

"And I really want to masturbate," she said, knowing she was blushing hard from saying those words aloud.

"Maybe I'll call you later," Wilson said, standing. As much as he enjoyed her company, her work was done. There was no reason for her to stay and booting her out of his house felt like the right call. He extended his hand to her, helped her to her feet, and led her to the door. "See you tomorrow, slut."

"Only for you," she smiled.

Once she was gone, Wilson's fantasies of the pretty church-going girl sucking his cock helped redirect his cigarette cravings. He got hard and stayed that way, edging himself close to several orgasms without letting it happen. Staying hard kept his mind off smoking. He went to bed hard and woke up the same way. If Kelly was willing to be his personal slut, he could find the will to live without a cigarette.

-

The saying about old habits dying hard rang true for Wilson as he suffered through his morning. Even knowing he would soon see Kelly couldn't ease the frustrations he felt. He wanted a damn cigarette and when he saw that curly headed bitch, she was going to pay for it. He did his best to lose himself in his work, adjust racks and restocking until Kelly waltz into his store carrying her McDonald's lunch, wearing a happy smile, and displaying hard nipples beneath another painted on t-shirt.

"How's it going, cunt?" he asked as soon as he saw her. Kelly went stiff, freezing in place and stared at him with wide eyes and a slacked jaw that didn't even rachet up and down. "Problem?" he asked.

"Th-that word," she stammered, moving out of her shocked and surprised posture in tiny bits.

He followed to her usual lunch counter, his cash and wrap station. He plucked the bag from her hand, setting it down while leading her towards his backroom door. He pushed her against the same shelf unit and groped her tits. "Do you have any idea how badly I want a cigarette?" he growled.

"Pretty bad to use that word."

"It's just a word," he said, shoving his inside her t-shirt and groping her bare breasts. "Besides, you're a slut whore. What difference does a word make?"

"That's a really bad word," Kelly said, fighting against how good his hand felt groping her chest. Last night had been challenging for her. She couldn't keep her mind off what she had done. She had liked sucking him off. Doing it with her clothes on had felt wanton, dirty, and naughty. Doing it without a promise of anything in return had felt one-sided and cool. She had gone home in need, soaking through her panties. It had taken all of her will to keep her hands from straying between her legs and relieving the demanding ache she had felt.

"Whore," Wilson repeated, pulling on her straining nipples. "Cunt," he growled.

"Stop it," she whimpered, feeling her lust rising again. "You're making me wet."

"Good."

"You're being mean."

"You're right."

Kelly opened her mouth to say something else before realizing she didn't have any more words. She reached out and grabbed the front of his pants. She gently squeezed his cock and balls, rubbing and caressing the lump she felt growing beneath her tiny hand as they stared each other down. "Do you have my money?"

"No. I don't have my wallet or ATM card. I gave it to a cunt."

"A cunt who owns this," she said, stroking his large cock while marvelling that she ever said that word.

"Fuck," Wilson said, pulling away from her and heading out front. A customer had entered his store. Kelly pulled her shirt back into place and walked out front, too. Wilson stood behind his counter and she could see his hard cock straining against his pants. She smirked, sat at the end of his counter and began eating her lunch as if nothing was happening.

The customer took her time wandering around Wilson's store, oblivious of the sexual drama being played out by the cash register. She collected an armload of purchases and approached the counter around the same time Kelly had finished her lunch. Kelly gave the woman a big smile, noticed how the woman gave a disapproving glance at Kelly's chest, and Kelly only smiled bigger. She waited until the woman was gone before addressing Wilson.

"I get off at 9."

"I know."

"Think you can make it that long?"

"I think I can make it until four," he said, which was when his closing help arrived.

"I want my money."

"You'll have to give me my ATM card."

"Come see me at four," she said and left, wondering how she was going to work in her excited state.

-

Wilson felt more in control as four o'clock approached. He greeted his closers in a better mood than yesterday and saw the relieved look on their faces, leaving him to wonder how rude he had been the day before. He spent an extra twenty minutes visiting with them before heading next door.

Kelly couldn't keep her eyes off the clock and felt her excitement rising as four o'clock neared. Her nipples grew hard and she felt wet between her legs. How would Wilson treat her? Would he call her a slut or a whore again? She fought off the blush she felt on her cheek whenever she thought of the other word he had used.

Four o'clock arrived and she kept an eye on the front door, hoping the store would stay empty. She kept watching the door, suffering in her excited silence as time clicked by. She couldn't imagine he was doing this on purpose, but what else explained it? Twenty minutes passed before he walked into her store all smile, as if nothing was happening. "How's it going, whore?"

"Where's my money?" she demanded.

Wilson blinked, taken aback by her sour attitude and confused because her excited nipples told a completely different story. "Give me my wallet and it'll be waiting on my house tonight."

"It hasn't been a week yet," she pointed out, managing to maintain her pissed off expression. Wilson thought it looked cute seeing her angry and frustrated.

"If you're not there by 9:30, don't bother. I'll be smoking by then," he said, holding out his hand for his billfold. Kelly stormed into the backroom, making a show of being angry. "Thanks cunt," he said as she handed it over. "Oh, and by the way, nice tits." He tweaked one of her nipples as if he owned it and left her simmering in her frustration.

-

Wilson visited the grocery store on his way home from work, relieved to discover his annoyed craving for a smoke had eased. Instead of craving one, he wanted one, but otherwise felt okay. He felt more like he missed the habit of lighting up at certain times than he felt the withdraw of needed the nicotine. Still, the missing habit made him feel as if something was missing in his life. He kept checking his pockets for the pack of smokes he didn't own and his lighter.

Getting home felt better because he could distract himself. He turned on one of the porn channels he bought from the satellite provider and got naked because being naked always felt more fun than not being naked. His cock grew hard and he nursed his hard-on in eager anticipation of when Kelly showed up. Any thought of a cigarette was replaced with a new thought for how he might mistreat her.

He thought about his motivations for being mean to her. He couldn't deny the willpower he found inside his lecherous thoughts. A strong hard-on and a vivid imagination were enough to overpower his urge to light-up. Still, he resented her playing with him. He resented her using her womanly charms to control him, leaving him with a sense of entitlement. If she was willing to play his whore as way to stop him from smoking, then he was willing to treat her like one. Fuck her wholesome, girl-next-door demeanor, fracturing that only made it more fun. He made sure he stayed ready and hard.

-

Kelly found concentrating at work difficult. Her nipples ached from staying hard for so long. She noticed each time a customer gazed at her chest and grew used to the scowling expressions she earned from other women. Fuck them. It was the men who stared at her that made her feel sinful. She could see the longing in their eyes and knew she was harlot teasing them with something they would never have. She had known girls who purposely flaunted what God had given them as a way to manipulate men and had prayed hard not to think less of those women.

But isn't that what she was doing? Wasn't she using whatever appeal Wilson found in her as a way to manipulate and control him? And for what? Money? She shook her head, reminding herself why she was doing it. She was saving his life, helping end his addiction to the cancer sticks that were slowly killing him. Maybe it wasn't as worthy of a cause as going on a mission trip, but she tried to embrace it as the same sort of thing. Did saving a life offset the damage she was doing to her soul? She prayed that would be the case and silently asked forgiveness even as she squeezed her thighs together for the little thrill it provided.

She locked the doors, turned off the lights, and climbed into her broken car to do whatever it took to collect her money.

-

Wilson answered his doorbell naked. He didn't have visitors and for the time of the night, it could only be one person. He had showered and razored away any stubble on his bare parts. Behind him, porn played on his TV. Her hundred dollars rested on the corner end table between his couches, fanned out as five twenty dollar bills.

"You really know how to greet a girl," Kelly smirked, staring at his nakedness and realizing she had taken for granted Wilson's conditioning. He wasn't muscle bound. Instead, he was naturally lean, giving him a trim and fit appearance that rivaled Kevin or Tom, the other men she had ever seen naked in the flesh. "Is this for me?" she asked, caressing his hard-on.

"No, but that is," he said, nodding at her money.

Confused, Kelly walked on by and pocketed her cash. She had found a mechanic willing to work on payments provided she would give him the first payment upfront. Having the money she needed tucked into her back pocket felt good. She sat on his couch, glanced briefly at the fish and made an even smaller glance at the porn on the TV.

"One of us is over dressed," Wilson pointed out.

"We're not fucking," she said as he sat in the same spot as last night. "You haven't made it a week yet."

Wilson gave her a patient smile. He had had plenty of time to think about what he wanted. "You're right, but you're still doing something and you need to get naked for that." He waited until she started getting undressed before walking around the corner for the supplies he had waiting.

Kelly pulled off her shoes, her jeans, and her t-shirt, but left her panties on. She wasn't sure why she had to get naked and wasn't sure she trusted Wilson enough to lose her panties. When he came back into the room, he carried a bowl of water, a pair scissors, a towel and a can of shaving cream. He frowned when he saw she was still wearing her panties.

"For a whore, you don't listen very well, do you?" he said, offering his hand. She took it, rising to her feet. Before she could stop him, he picked up the scissors and snipped one half of her panties in two.

"Hey!"

"You don't need these," he said, snipping away the other side and pulling them from her. "Besides, you're a whore. You should be used to a guy seeing naked." He liked the way she blushed. "In fact, this paying customer wants to see you all the way naked." He handed her the scissors.

"What am I supposed to do with these?"

"You'll want to trim before you shave," he said, staring at her very light brown pillow of downy soft pubic hair. It felt like half a crime asking her shave away that silky soft fur, except he knew being shaved would make her feel more self conscious.

"But I've never . . ." Kelly protested and giving up before she finished the sentence. Of course she had never shaved her pubic hair. Of course he knew that. "Can I just blow you again instead?"

He shook his head. "No, this is what I'm paying for. This and what you're going to do afterwards."

"I'm not going to shave and blow you," she flatly stated.

"Fair enough," he said, nodding for her to get started.

Kelly picked up the towel, put it beneath her butt and began trimming away her curly locks of pubic hair. Bit by bit, she pulled up a curl of fur and snipped it short. All the tugging she was doing on her hair felt like a tease. She knew her pussy was wet and excited. Could Wilson see it, too? Did he know? She stole a glance at him and saw his hard cock throbbing. Whether he knew or not, he was enjoying the show of her shaving.

Kelly took her time before rubbing herself with the shaving cream. That was dangerous. Her body wanted her fingers to do more than rub lotion across that needful, sensitive part. She behaved herself, picking up the razor and making short strokes. Inch by inch, the razor blade came away covered in hair while leaving behind a growing bald area. The most challenging part was shaving her pussy lips because her clitoris was crying for attention she refused to give it.

"That's how I want it stay," Wilson told her, passing her a bottle of lotion.

She caressed the freshly exposed skin, marvelling at how smooth she felt and how sexy it was. It felt as if every nerve ending around her pussy was standing on end. She glanced down at herself and felt girly instead of feeling like a woman and felt ashamed. This wasn't something she could undo. Tomorrow, she would still be shaved, too. It wasn't permanent, but it would last much longer than she wanted to guess.

"Let me see," he said, kneeling in front of her. He gazed up between her legs in a way only her doctor had seen. "Pull it apart, I want to see how wet we made your whore cunt."

"Please don't use that word," she said as she splayed open her pussy for his gaze.

"Cunt?" he asked, purposely repeating the offensive word.

"Yes."

Wilson grinned, so happy with himself as he told her an off color joke about a young man asking his Dad for the definition of a pussy. Dad had produced a Playboy centerfold and circled the model's pussy, providing the appropriate street talk name for that body part. Then the young man asked the definition of a cunt. "And the father looked at his boy and said, 'Everything outside that circle.'"

"Is that what you mean when you call me that word?" Kelly asked, shocked.

"Well, you're a whore, so why not a cunt?"

"Giving you one blowjob doesn't make me a whore," she pouted, unhappy with their arrangement even as her pussy wept with need.

"Getting paid to do it does," he said, rubbing his long, hard cock. His penis looked swollen and angry, as if he was ready to burst from a strong breeze.

"Fine, I'm a whore," Kelly admitted, hoping it might end his game. "You've had your show. Can I go now?"

"Not yet. We have one more thing we have to do. I'm still hard."

"I already said, I'm not going to fuck or suck you. I think I've done enough for one day."

"Almost," he said. "And you're right, I'm not going to ask to fuck or suck you. Instead, I want to watch you play with yourself."