The Third Whore, or No A for Effort - Sex Stories

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The Third Whore, or No A for Effort

Date: 8/17/2015, Categories: Hardcore, Author: VirgoGo, Rating: 11, Source: LushStories

I maintained eye contact, while reaching round to my zipper and lowering it slowly but deliberately. I let the simple black sheath fall off my body, onto the floor, and I stepped out of the fabric. He looked me up and down. He seemed unmoved by the black lace and thigh highs. I tried not to reveal my nervousness that he might not like what he saw. I'm no Victoria's Secret model, but I possess other assets. I go to the gym, so my long legs are firm and toned. I have a trainer who makes sure my love of pasta is balanced by interval workouts. I have a hairstylist who keeps my long hair flowing and highlighted every six weeks. I have a plastic surgeon ready for the day my 32D breasts are anything but cheerleader perky. I also have a dermatologist who administers a subtle mix of fillers and Botox. Despite being thirty-eight, I look ten years younger. "Turn around, whore," and I presented my back and butt to him. He ran his fingers along my side, and paused as he grabbed my ass and gave it a hard squeeze. "I feel like you're inspecting vegetables at the market, Sir." He chuckled. Maybe he does have a sense of humor? "Perhaps I am... your body is just another good that’s bought and sold." "Very true, Sir... but unlike, say, a handbag, it's a good with opinions. And this good would love it if you fucked her. I enjoyed having your cock in my mouth, Sir. What would it take for you to consider ramming it into my cunt, too?" And I bent forward and arched my back a bit, to make my ass ... more pronounced and enticing. I was determined to get that bonus. He stood behind me, and I felt the fingers of his left hand digging into my waist, while his right pushed my back down so that I was bent at a right angle. He then gripped my throat, and pulled my ass into him. His left hand applied a downward pressure to my left shoulder, so that I was trapped in this awkward angle. "You'd like that, wouldn't you? Feeling my cock pumping in you. Being used like the whore you are." It seemed like my name had become “whore”. How curt and utilitarian. And if my bonus required me to be “whore” with Mark, that was mostly fine by me. I didn’t have a preferred nom de guerre like some of the ladies and usually, I just went by “J”. It pleased me that my clients had little idea regarding my identity, and it gave me an aura of useful mystery. Being called “whore” repeatedly and exclusively, however, was a whole other matter. Despite the harsh language and the efforts to degrade and de-personify me, I became inspired by Mark’s lewd remarks. I reached back and pulled my cheeks apart. I was still wearing panties, but I wanted him to feel my crotch pressing against the front of his trousers. This whore would give him a good show. "Oh god, yes. I'm desperate to be fucked. I want to be used by you. Please just ram your cock in me, Sir. I need it." He clasped my throat harder, and pulled me upright in front of him. His fingers tightened around my neck and it was only then that I looked up and ...