Working girl Ana believes in job satisfaction.
I bend over the elevated platform with the top half of my lithe body stretched out flat across the black velvet cover. The soft fabric swirls underneath my naked stomach and breasts, reaching and tickling all the way down to my c**t. A light breeze washes down the back of my oiled legs; their definition extending down from the platform to my sharp scarlet heels.
My vagina pulses with anticipation as I wait for the first client to come into the viewing booth. Through the darkness I can smell the sweet perfume of the other girls’ pussies, legs as spread as my own, longing for the first touch. I hope my favourite client will visit tonight, the one who really knows how to touch me, poking strong fingers into my wet hole or cupping and stroking my buttocks before bringing a hand round to my slit, gently dragging one soft finger across its opening. I go to jelly when my favourite client licks me from behind.
Client’s View
The doors unbolt and we hear the first couple of footsteps from behind the black wall and a male voice anxiously asking, “Through here? Cheers, mate.”
It’s easy to tell the visitor is new. We imagine him standing alone in the long corridor, not sure where to poke or prod first; not sure how to choose, sensing us all listening behind the darkness. His corridor is black, like ours, except there’s a row of spotlights on the client side. Each spotlight highlights one girl: the perfect stilettos bearing the long stretch of leg rising up to a pulsing, glistening hole, surrounded by full flesh that begs to be handled.
Our clients can’t see any more than that. Our identities are a mystery to them, as are theirs to us. When they walk into that corridor all they see is a long line of pussies, gaping and ready, and then they must make their choice. Our visitor makes his. I hear him nervously approach me. I feel his hands gently rest on my buttocks. His hands are cold and tentative. I hold my breath, waiting to feel what he will do next and if he can satisfy me. My hole is aching now.
Another pair of footsteps enter the corridor. This guy is experienced. We hear him swiftly unfasten his zip and drop his trousers. We recognise the crinkle of a condom wrapper and then a girl in the darkness moans loudly as he pounds into her.
I exhale in frustration, listening to her moaning, feeling nothing but skin on skin. My gaping hole feels nothing but a faint puff of air as the door opens and more footsteps are heard.
I guess my guy is fairly young by the touch of his trembling hands; he needs some guidance. A hot sensation suddenly fills my pussy as a bigger hand with thick fingers envelopes my gash.
“Here,” a deeper voice growls, as a heavy finger pushes inside me. The new guy’s finger joins his mentor’s as they both start to gouge at my inner wall, fumbling in the wetness. I dribble on their fingers and feel the thicker one pull out of me.
“Gotta use a condom,” he says, as I hear the rustling of the packet and then I’m consumed by the girth of a rock hard penis inside my soft walls. I gasp as he pummels me, hard and fast; I can hear him grunting. My body shunts back and forth over the black velvet I lie across and I cling to the edges as he pounds my flesh as deep as he can. I groan loudly at the same time as some of the other girls. The noise of sex is bouncing off the walls as our shift really gets started and we start to earn our pleasure by the pound.
I start to feel really wet now and the contrasting friction makes me hot and deep inside. My client bucks inside me and my body feels empty as he pulls out, but I’m not left gaping. A smaller penis, sheathed and less experienced pokes itself inside me. The man starts to move backwards and forwards.
My vagina wall tingles orgasmically as the edges of his penis flutter against it. I feel the orgasm crawling around inside me, looking to burst. I groan, then bite my clenched fist inside my mouth.
I’m not sure whose hand it is, but fingers are suddenly flicking around my clit, in and around the folds of skin. My pelvis is on fire. I groan loudly as the wetness starts to soak the penis that flicks smoothly in and out of me.
I hear the new guy whimper and know he’s going to come hard. He grabs my hips and pulls me fully onto him as he shudders and stutters inside me. Sensations rush through me as I come just after him; my legs shaking.
Then I feel the thicker fingers inside me again and they flicker easily within me, like honey sticks twisting and gathering the liquid on their mass. This time I come harder, making no sound until the throbbing sensation lessens. Then I let out a slow breath of satisfaction.
As I lie there in the dark, throbbing, the man takes away his fingers and I hear him lick them before moving down the line. All the girls are moaning now; trembling in the dark as multiple orgasms jet through their bodies. Each of us has become swollen and pink in our femininity. We are groped and fucked and screwed. We are rubbed against and sucked and licked and fingered. We come and tremor and spasm.
And then she comes.
There’s the lick. My favourite client. She licks me up and down, then sucks on my hole until she’s taken all the juices in her mouth. Dirty bitch; she loves my honey juices, squirted out for others. Then she prods me with two fingers; then four. She moves them around at lightning speed and I can hear myself squelch and pop as she lathers me up; I’m soaking wet now.
She sticks a sodden finger in my arsehole and bites the flesh on my buttocks until I wince with pleasure and pain. A growl escapes me again and I feel myself losing control. Who is she?
She fucks my vagina fast with her fingers while licking my clit. She knows I’, going to come, and come hard. She takes her fingers out and uses them to part my flesh so she can bite into my whole pink pussy like a peach. I moan loudly as she fucks me with her tongue. I can feel my whole vulva pulsing, stronger and stronger, until finally I erupt. She gives me that long, final lick, and then she’s gone.
Dessert
My shift over, I head to my brother’s flat for the hot winter meal he’s promised me. He knows what I do for a living and he’s basically cool with it. Perhaps his mates even visit me? Who knows.
I hate to shower at my brother’s place, though. The shower’s over the bath with only a curtain, which allows the breeze to creep round its edges. “It lets cold air roll over my skin,” I complain as I mock-shiver towards the bathroom. I leap in the shower and try to be quick. But then I hear a voice I recognise asking if the breeze on my body reminds me of work. I look up at my brother’s girlfriend standing behind me, smiling, with a glint in her eye.
“Turn round,” she says. I stare at her with an open mouth as I suddenly realise the truth. I turn back around, slowly, as a naughty grin creeps across my face.
I bend forwards, and there she is. My favourite client.
