Working Girl

[IsabellaRose]

He pumps into me like a dog humping my leg, fast, furious, his need urgent and uncontrolled. Without lubrication it would hurt, but instead it's just uncomfortable. Nothing about the experience is pleasurable, but I make all the right sounds to urge him to completion. He finally tenses up, thrusting deep and staying there one, two, three times, then relaxes, sagging onto me for a minute before he rolls off and to the side, cock already getting soft. I tell him he was really good. He just lays there, panting, still like a dog. 

I sit up, slide my legs off the side of the bed. My panties are hanging from one ankle as he hefts himself from the other side of the bed, shaking the whole mattress. I look over my shoulder and see him through the bathroom doorway, dropping the condom into the toilet, wiping off his cock. He turns to look at me and his lips curl at the ends, more of a leer than a smile. I don't have it in me to react, but I offer a small smile. It's always better if they think you like them.

"Man, said it last time, say it again. You got a tight little pussy." He flushes and grins at me again. "Fucking TIGHT."

I nod. "Thanks," I say, and mentally append, I guess?

"You wanna make some extra money?" He's zipping up, coming back toward the bed.

"Depends," I say. "Doing what?"

"You do groups? Three, four guys, maybe more?" He pulls out a pack of cigarettes, some generic blue and white garbage, flicks the pack so one pokes up out of the plastic.

I nod. "That's actually my kink," I smile as I stand up and face him. This time I mean it. I like that kind of thing.

"Fuck girl, you wild." He lifts the cigarettes, pulls one out of the pack in his mouth. "You dig that?"

"Yeah, I do." I shrug. "I like it with three guys inside me."

"Ass, pussy, and mouth?" His cigarette is hanging from his lips. He looks intrigued now, like he maybe misread me.

"That's pretty much it," I say. I don't really care what he thinks, but now I'm kind of performing. I give him the coy look, the 'innocent school girl wants to suck your dick but it's the first dick she's ever sucked' look. I sway a little, move my shoulders and hips almost like I'm dancing. My voice is sultry, teasing, a hint of excitement in there so he knows I'm getting turned on. "I love how I can feel them both inside me at once, one in my ass, pushing against the one in my pussy. I love having another one shoved in my mouth. I love that feeling. Just me and all these guys." I'm right in front of him now, looking up at him past the cigarette.

"Thinkin about that make you wet?" His hand slams up between my thighs and he finds that not only have I not put on my panties, but actually, yes. It did make me wet thinking about that. He grins, pulls his hand out, and sniffs his fingers. "Fuck you smell good, even after I fucked you."

I just smile. He wants me again, right now.

"We got time to go again?" He's ready.

"Sorry, sugar. Time's up less you pay TJ again."

"Fuck." He steps back, lights his cigarette. "Next time start out like that, all teenage flirty. That shit's sexy. I'll fuck you good, you start out like that."

"Okay, baby," I say, stepping back to give him space. "Next time."

"So you wanna come to this party, or what?"

"Sure, but TJ will make Iceberg come with me." I bend over, hook my panties over the other foot, pull them up, then smooth down the mini skirt. We're into my time now, and I still have to clean up before TJ sends the next guy up. I need to wrap this up.

"The fuck kind of name is Iceberg?" He takes a drag from his cigarette, his look somewhere between annoyed, curious, and stupid.

"It fits. He's big. And scary. You know how they say you only see one seventh of an Iceberg above the water?"

"Yeah. He that big?"

"Bigger, but that's not why they call him Iceberg. You get scared looking at this bug guy, can kick your ass without even trying. What you're scared of, what you imagine him doing, that's just one seventh of what he'll do if you hurt one of us girls."

"Tough motherfucker?"

I just nod.

"He's not going to start shit, is he?" He take a drag, blows out the smoke right at me, trying to look cool, like he's not thinking about some guy named Iceberg fucking him up.

"He's just there to make sure I don't get hurt."

"Fair enough." He hands me a scrap of paper. "You wanna do it, come to this address. Be a good surprise for the boys. Give that little pussy a workout."

"Talk to TJ. You want, he can send two of us." I start touching up my makeup in the mirror.

"You got that tight little pussy, not all wore out like those other girls."

"Glad you like it," I say, and wink at him through the mirror. "Now get the fuck outta here. I got someone coming up in a minute."

He laughs as he heads toward the door. "Shit, you the funnest whore I ever fucked."

"That's what I'll call my autobiography," I say, grinning. "The funnest whore you ever fucked."

He laughs out loud as he heads out the door. "Stay safe," he calls over his shoulder.

They never make me laugh. That was cool. But five minutes later the next guy comes in, and I have a dick in my mouth before I even get a chance to pee. Fuck.

I need a new job.

[IsabellaRose]

The party was Friday, and TJ had liked the pay. I'd be going with Iceberg to take care of me, but the next two days would be business as usual. But for now, I was headed home.

The shitty apartment I shared with Lena was small, dirty and infested by both rats and roaches. Only two burners on our stove worked, both the kitchen and bathroom faucets leaked, the windows were painted shut, and there was no air conditioning. One big room served as living room and kitchen and there was a tiny bathroom and a tinier closet. I'd been in closets bigger than our bedrooms, and I could hear her and her boyfriend through the wall like they were in the same bed with me. 

Tonight, they were going at it as usual. Their drug paraphernalia was on the coffee table, and it apparently had got them in the mood, because I came home to Lena's screaming orgasm and Tony's "fuck yeah bitch take it" bullshit. I dropped my backpack by the couch, sat on the couch, dipped my pinkie in the small baggie, and did a small bump. I felt that rush, the euphoria washing over me, the jolt that made me feel powerful. God i loved that. Before too long I wanted more and leaned forward to look at the baggie. 

Tony came out of the bedroom naked and hairy, ponytail loose, cock still half hard, and stared an accusation at me. "Don't touch my coke."

"I never touch your coke, Tony." I leaned back with the remote in my hand, flicked on the tv.

"Damn straight," he said, crossing the room like he owned the place. He picked up the baggie. "Give you some if you join us."

"Fuck you, Tony." Every time it was the same thing. 

"Maybe just suck it, get me ready for round two. Lena could use a break." He was close to me, his cock hanging almost limp, but twitching with his pulse. The idea was turning him on.

"I don't work for drugs." I looked up at him, ignoring his nudity. "Cash only."

He stared at me hard.

I held my hand out as if expecting payment.

"Fuck you," he said, turning to head back to the bedroom, coke in hand.

"You wish," I said to his back, and started flipping through the channels. 

Cable tv was a drag. There wasn't shit on, and to make it worse, the headboard started banging on the wall again and I could hear Lena moaning. She put on more of a show than I did. There was no way Tony was that good.

I headed to the fridge. That leftover lo mien was calling my name. Unfortunately, it had called Tony or Lena's name first. The empty take-out container was on the counter next to three empty beer cans, a plastic grocery bag, and some dirty silverware. I checked the fridge and found some condiments, a beer, milk that was probably bad. The milk made me think of cereal, and I grabbed the box from the top of the fridge to find it empty. Damn it.

So. Head back out to get food, or go suck a dick for some coke as an appetite suppressant. My choices sucked. I grabbed my backpack and headed back out into the night. There was no way I was touching Tony's dick.

[IsabellaRose]

I should have changed. I was wearing those chunky heeled black boots with the buckles all the way up to my knees, fishnets, a short skirt that barely covered anything, and a big black hoodie that almost covered the skirt. I normally wore baggy clothes when I went out, something to hide skin, legs, breasts. All the things I had on display when I worked. But at four in the morning I just wanted food. The closest place was just around the corner.

I headed into Bobby's, a place no one would know was called Bobby's Diner from outside. The sign just said FOOD in big neon letter, but once you got in, got a seat, the menu said "Bobby's Diner" at the top. It was crowded, but that wasn't unusual at this time of night. Something was always just about to start, something else had always jut ended, and there were always people everywhere. Lindy pointed to a booth and I waved in thanks; she always made sure I got a good spot. She was a doll of a human hidden behind a face like a side of beef an a mouth like the trucker who invented the term "mouth like a trucker." She cut a burly guy off to get to my table and dropped a cup of coffee in front of me.

"Jesus Christ, Izzy, look at you. If I had legs like that I'd rule the fuckin world. Whatcha want?" Her voice sounded like a power tool with nasal congestion.

"Breakfast special," I said. "Whatever Bobby didn't burn too bad."

"Fresh sausage gravy today," she said behind her grin, "and he don't fuck up the corned beef hash too bad."

"Sounds good," I said. "Thanks, Lindy."

She made a sound like a dog coughing and eyed me up and down again before turning back toward the counter. I never knew if she wanted to be me, fuck me, or punch me, but she always took care of me. 

The place was packed. People were crowded near the entrance now waiting for a table and I felt a little guilty having a booth all to myself. But them's the breaks. One young guy excused himself through the crowd and walked toward me, probably on his way back to his table from the bathroom. I tore open a small stack of sugar packets and dumped them into my coffee. I started to stir when someone slid into the both across from me.

"Mind if I join you?" It was the young guy. He hadn't been on his way to his table. He thought he could slip in here, maybe find a seat, probably want more from a lone, young woman. Fuck.

"Free country," I said, not even really looking at him. I didn't have the patience for whatever line of shit he was going to drop on me.

"Sorry, I just saw you sitting alone, figured I'd try to get some food. I hope I'm not imposing."

I looked up at him. He seemed to be actually telling the truth, which meant either he was, or he was so good at spinning his con that he was getting past all my detectors. "S'all good," I said, noncommittally and looked back into the depths of my coffee.

"Jason," he said. "My name's Jason."

"Hi, Jason," I said, a hint of sarcastic aggression in my voice, and looked up at him again. He seemed nonthreatening. His smile was nice, even. Jesus, what was I thinking? He obviously had some kind of angle he was playing. Everyone had an angle.

"May I ask your name?" He seemed to miss my subtle hint to piss off, and his eyes seemed genuine. Man, he was good.

"You can ask," I said, but looked around the diner instead of at him. 

Lindy caught my eye and shouted, "Izzy, more coffee?"

Fuck. I nodded and she nodded back.

"Izzy, huh?" His smile was somewhere between triumphant and smarmy when I looked at him. "Short for Isabelle?"

"Sure," I said. "If you want." I was being a bitch, but I didn't like that smile, and I wasn't here for small talk. I was here for food, then I was heading home to sleep. I didn't need Jason, his shitty smile, or his honest looking eyes.

"Well," he said, shifting in his seat. "I can see you don't want to talk." 

"Perceptive," I said as Lindy approached.

"This fucktard giving you trouble?" she asked, as she poured more coffee in my cup. "Does he need a third degree crotch?" She held the coffee pot over his lap, tilted partway, like she was going to pour right onto him. His eyes went wide and I laughed.

"Holy shit, no, Lindy." She'd do it. "He's fine. No problem."

"I can go," Jason said quickly shifting his weight to slide off the bench as Lindy put down a coffee cup in front of him and filled it.

"Just fuckin with you. What are you eating, Romeo?" Lindy asked.

He stared at me, looking like he was still trying to catch up with the conversation. 

"C'mon, asshole, I ain't got all night." Lindy was less patient than me.

"Same as she's having," he said quickly, as if the decision and words had been formulated simultaneously.

Lindy nodded, turned and was gone.

Jason looked like he wasn't sure he wanted to stay now, which I found amusing. Of course, now that he was uncomfortable, I was fine with him staying.

"Okay, Jason," I said, eyeing him like he was prey. "Why the fuck did you come sit across from me tonight? For real, no bullshit."

He looked into my eyes, and I don't know what he saw, but he seemed to be taken aback. I kind of liked that. "Honestly?"

I nodded. "I'll know if you're lying."

"I don't doubt it," he said, and looked away, as if maintaining eye contact was difficult. "I saw you alone, a pretty girl, an empty booth, and I figured worst case I get to sit and eat, best case, I get to chat up a pretty girl."

"And what then?"

"Does there have to be a motive other than meeting someone?" He seemed on the defensive, right where I wanted him. My bad day was venting at him, and even though he didn't deserve it, I didn't care.

"There's always a motive." I took a sip of my coffee.

"Don't you ever just meet someone? Chat? Make a new friend?" He seemed baffled that I might actually not.

"I don't have any friends," I said, and leaned back in the booth with my coffee, studying him. He was an odd creature. So earnest. So... hopeful? Where did this jackass come from? How did he hope to make it acting like this?

"I can see why," he said and suddenly there were two plates in front of us piled high with scrambled eggs, home fries and corned beef hash, drowned in sausage gravy.

"Holy shit," he said. "This is what you ordered?" He looked at the plate, looked at me, looked back at the plate. "Where do you put it?"

"Hollow leg," I said, remembering something my father once said about my appetite, and dug into the food. It smelled amazing and tasted better, warm gravy, eggs, sausage, that corned beef hash just crispy enough on one side. Fuck, this was the stuff. I inhaled my food like it was the only purpose for my existence. 

Jason ate slower, putting his napkin in his lap, using his fork and knife, setting them down between bites. Jesus, he was Mister Fucking Manners. As we ate, he seemed to keep watching me.

I was finished before he was halfway done, and I downed the end of my coffee and stared across the table at him. I studied him, the way he ate, the way he looked up at me. He was a suburban guy. He didn't live here, with us. He came from someplace nice he could go back to. That's what had thrown me off. He actually might not have an angle. He might just be... naive. 

"You're staring," he said as he finished a mouthful of eggs.

"Where do you think this is going?" I asked. I was genuinely curious what his end game was when he sat across from me.

"I honestly have no idea," he said looking a bit mystified.

"Did you think you were going to chat me up, walk me home, maybe get asked up for coffee?"

"Is that off the table?" He said, grinning, then seemed to think better of it. "I don't mean to imply..."

"It wasn't on the table," I said. "But."

He quirked an eyebrow, waiting. "But?"

"Buy me breakfast, I'll let you walk me home."

"And ask me up for coffee?" He grinned, and I couldn't tell if he was joking or serious.

"One step at a time, guy."

[IsabellaRose]

This was not the way I imagined tonight going when I'd lost my friends after the concert. I'd waited in the bar where we were supposed to meet up for almost an hour, then gave up and decided I needed food. I'd come here because it was close and recommended by the bartender. The place had been packed, and I saw Izzy sitting alone, figured I'd see if could sneak in and get some food, maybe have some good conversation.

But Izzy was unlike anyone I'd ever met. She was unfriendly, negative, miserable even, but so beautiful, and those legs. Holy shit. She could say anything she wanted to me if I could just stare at those legs a little longer. But I had no idea how to talk to her. She seemed to turn everything around on me and right when I thought we were adversarial, she was suddenly accommodating and nice. I had no idea why I was still talking to her, and less of an idea why I agreed to walk her home.

That wasn't true. It was those eyes, those legs. She hooked me and she wasn't even trying. Hell, she was actively trying not to, but what can I say? I'm a sucker for light eyes and dark hair, and she added on heavy eyeliner, fishnet stockings and those suicide girl boots. She was my bad girl fantasy. 

We left the diner and she eyed me suspiciously as I held the door open.

"What, you never had a guy hold a door open for you?"

She just shook her head and walked past me. I turned to watch her walk past, those legs, that ass peeking out from under that baggy hoodie. Sweet Jesus. I was in trouble.

She led me down an alley and to another street, half a block down, then down another alley. This was not the part of the city where guys like me felt safe, but she seemed just fine, so I played it off.

"What the hell are you doing in this neighborhood?" She was walking beside me, back on a lit street instead of in a dim alley. She wasn't walking fast, and I had the feeling that the turns and diversions had been her way of getting me turned around, making me lose my sense of direction.

"Following you, now," I said. "Back there I was waiting for friends after a concert."

"What concert?"

"They're a pretty niche band, you've probably never heard of them. They're a French band who does punk ska covers of old classics. It's kind of a joke, but they pull it off. Since they're from Paris, they call themselves the..."

"Paris-ites!" she finished for me. "Yeah, I know them."

I hadn't expected that. "I'm surprised," I said.

She looked at my with a smile and this look in her eye, was it flirty? "I'm full of surprises." It was a challenge to read her.

We continued on in silence. She had slowed her pace, as if she was trying to make the walk last longer. Maybe I was just reading too much into it.

"Okay," she said. "Best rock band from the seventies. One. Two. Three!"

We both said "Zeppelin!" simultaneously. She nodded. I felt like I was being tested.

"Best Star Wars movie?" she said, looking up at me.

"Empire," I answered immediately.

The smile stayed on her face. I was doing something right. Rapid fire questions came one after another for what felt like a half hour but was probably a couple minutes. I was afraid that every answer would be the one that tripped me up, the one that made her stop smiling. Finally she stopped and turned to face me.

"If I asked you to fuck me against the wall in that alley," she gestured with her head toward a dark space between two buildings, "would you push my back against the wall so I could wrap my legs around you, or push my face against the bricks and take me from behind?"

"Why not both?" I asked.

"Right answer," she said with a twinkle in her eye, taking my hand and crossing the street toward the alley.

"Wait, are you serious?" I followed. Of course I followed.

She said nothing, just pulled me into the alley, turned to face me, and looked up into my eyes. In the dim light of the darkened alley there was something pleading in her eyes, something scared, but something filled with confidence and purpose. She grabbed the collar of my coat and pulled my face down to meet hers, standing up on tippy toes to reach me. Her kiss was unbridled passion, hot and soft, her lips hungry for more than mine, more than sex. It was like she was trying to make an emotional connection with her lips and tongue. As we kissed, her hands were everywhere, on my abs, my chest, working at my belt, and mine moved, too.

She was so slim, and her ass was round and tiny, just how I liked. I could feel her ribs as I slid a hand up under the hoodie to find her breasts, good sized, so soft, her nipples hard and overly sensitive judging by the sound she made. Those legs, as my hands moved down over her thighs, I realized she was actually wearing thigh high stockings, tight at the top, and I was even more turned on. I put a hand between legs she spread willingly and found her hot and damp. Holy shit. This was happening. 

This was happening.

[IsabellaRose]

Jason wasn't like other guys I knew. He seemed earnest and honest and entirely too trusting. But he liked my music, liked the right things, seemed like me in some way most of the guys I knew weren't. He was kind of cute, too, in that baby faced suburban kid kind of way. I couldn't believe I was doing this. I never did this kind of thing. I didn't date. I didn't fuck guys because I wanted to. I did it because that's how I got paid, that was my commodity and theirs was cash. But this guy... this night. Something clicked, and it felt right. Who was I to question it?

I had his pants open and his cock out before he had even thought to touch my breasts. I stroked him to full erection, but he was already mostly there, then I pulled a condom out of the hoodie pocket, opened it, and rolled it down over his cock. He was making sounds, moans, words, I don't know. I pushed back against the wall for leverage, hiked up my skirt, pulled my panties aside, and guided him inside me. I was actually wet. That was rare. I usually had to use lube; most of the men I was with didn't do shit to arouse me, but this guy... I didn't understand it, and I didn't have the brain power to think more about it as he pushed up and forward and buried himself in me. I let out a little moan, not even on purpose. 

He moved inside me, strong and hard, and I put my arms around his neck, lifted my legs around his waist, and felt him adjust his stance to take my weight, and then slide even deeper. I looked up to his eyes and he was staring at me, into my eyes, his expression the one I'd seen on so many faces, but there was something else there. Not the conquest, mindless hunger, emotionless need, or anything else I was used to. I didn't recognize it, but I liked it. It felt good to be looked at that way, and I met his gaze and shifted, moving my hips to meet his thrusts. My back was against the wall as he fucked me, pushing inside, each thrust deep. He seemed to respond to my movement, to my sounds, he was... trying to please me. 

That revelation changed something. I don't know if anyone ever tried to please me during sex. If they did, they either failed or I didn't realize it. But this guy, he was trying to make sure that I enjoyed it, too. Something woke up inside me then. He must have seen it in my eyes, because he slowed, smiled, holding himself inside me. His hands were under my ass, but he moved one to cup my cheek. His eyes seemed to ask a question, if this was good, if I was into it, if I was getting out of it the same thing he was, and then he kissed me as he moved slowly inside of me.

I felt my cheeks flush. Fuck, what was wrong with me? Guys don't make me feel like this. Guys don't make me feel. But he did. Something about this was so different, and I had no idea why, but as he pulled back from that kiss I smiled at him again, blushing and everything. I moved my hips, tugged on him with my legs, and he continued moving, but slower, experimentally, as if searching for... oh! I let out a sound. There! God, he found it, and he knew it, and he moved like that again and I made the same sound, but more insistent. He kept doing that, and I looked into his eyes. He found a spot that made me feel amazing inside, a spot that sent sensation into my soul, and he exploited it. He worked with his hips and cock and those eyes to drill through my pussy and into my soul. I tried to be quiet, but the sounds that came out of me weren't anything I'd ever made before. They were animal sounds, not the encouragement I usually had to give guys to get them there, but actual encouragement to keep going, keep doing that, right there!

I came with him inside me, and it might have been the first time that happened staring into a guy's eyes. Sure, I'd orgasmed before. But not from this, from actual sex, from a man giving me pleasure, caring about my pleasure. He was grinning like he won a prize, and then he pumped harder into me, more insistently, and as I kept making those sounds he spent himself into the condom, pushing hard inside of me. My pussy clenched around him, I didn't want him to pull out, but he did, slowly.

I unwrapped my legs from around him and stood shakily, looking up into his eyes. He was breathing as hard as I was, and looked at me with a playful grin. 

"Got another condom?" he asked.

I did, and I handed it to him. There was no way he was ready again.

"Turn around," he said, hands on my hips, spinning me to face the wall. "We had a deal."

I did, hands against the wall, ass pressed out toward him with my skirt hiked up, and looked back over my shoulder at him. He was looking down as he rolled the condom down over his cock. I wriggled my ass, pressed back, rubbed up and down his cock, feeling him slide between my ass cheeks.

"Jesus Christ, you're perfect," he said, hands on my hips as he pressed himself against my entrance and slowly inside.

I was still wet, and he slid in easily. He was still hard, harder than I expected, and he started to move with purpose, slowly at first, then faster, gripping my hips, pushing me against the wall harder. Holy fuck I loved that. Being fucked from behind was a personal favorite, and he did everything I liked. His grip on my hips was commanding, controlling, and his thrusts were deep and intense. I wanted to lean back against him, but he was pushing me hard against the wall. Fuck. I was loving this. 

"Fuck me," I said between panting breaths. 

His hand fisted in my hair and pulled me back against him. I pressed my hands to the wall as my head was pulled back, and his mouth was beside my ear, lips on my neck, one hand on my hip, the other tugging my head toward him, back arched, fuck yes... he let go of my hair and his hand moved to my waist, up past my breasts, up to my neck, around my throat. Holy shit. I leaned back against him and he controlled me entirely. His cock hammered into me, one hand around my hip holding me to him as he fucked me, the other around my neck, pulling my head back, making me look up and into his eyes as he loomed over me.

Again, looking into his eyes triggered something inside me, and I came hard on his cock, spasming and contracting around him, and this time he did too, thrusting into me from behind, holding my body where he wanted it, panting against me, holding me tight against him. Fuck. 

My body slowly relaxed and his hands released me, but he stayed close, remained inside me. Holy shit. I wasn't going to move away. I wanted more, but he slid out slowly. I leaned back against him, not knowing what to expect or what I even wanted. He put his arms around my waist and moved his lips near my ear.

"You are amazing," he said.

I let out a sarcastic little laugh. I didn't do well with compliments.

"Hey," he said, turning me around by the shoulders until I face him. "You are. I don't... this isn't something I've ever done. But you. This."

I felt the same way, but I didn't say anything. He'd made me feel things I didn't think were real. I just nodded.

"Are you still going to ask me up for coffee?" He was grinning as he removed the condom. I don't think he noticed me taking his wallet.

"I think you just had coffee," I said tugging my skirt down and walking out of the alley.

"Hey, wait!" He was trying to do up his pants, but I was already around the corner. "Izzy!"

I heard him calling my name, but it just made me run. I cut across the street, into another alley, behind a dumpster in the dark, and crouched down looking around the edge of the dumpster. I saw him hurry past, looking up and down the street, checking doors, looking behind cars. I don't know why I hid from him, but it wasn't a game. I didn't want to talk to him. I stayed crouched there for a while in the dark, catching my breath, waiting him out. He'd give up eventually. 

At some point he did. The sky was getting lighter as I strolled out the other end of the alley and back the way I'd come. I'd led him around the block at first, and now I headed home. I held his wallet in the pocket of my hoodie. Part of me was happy, part of me felt smart, but most of me felt kind of stupid. 

[Collin S]

Great twist ending!