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Contains adult themes, consensual sex.  Read at your own risk.

Comments and suggestions welcome.  Flames cheerfully ignored.

For personal use only - if you repost, please include this header.

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Note:

I like this one quite a bit;  I had several things I wanted to try and
I think it turned out quite well.  I find that the "normal length" for
my stories has been getting slightly longer, as I try to add more plot
elements.

I welcome any comments, constructive criticism, and so on.  I use anon
mainly keep my net persona and job persona separate, not to stifle
response - if you have any suggestions, story ideas, or questions, feel
free to write.

And finally - this is the eighth story I have written for the net.  I
will be writing more as the urge strikes me, as long as I come up with
ideas that I like.  I have definite likes and turn-ons, and my stories
will reflect them.  So far, they have all been from a male POV;  unless
I get far better at getting inside a woman's viewpoint, I won't attempt
a female POV.  I *like* women - and *love* one particular woman - and I
hope that shows.  Except when it fits well with the plot of the story,
you aren't going to see long lists of anatomical attributes; even if I
do describe my people, it's far more likely to be "slender, with small
breasts" than "102 lbs, 33B, three freckles on the left tit, two on the
right."  If people other than the net.default "US-born white" show up,
whether because of plot needs or just because I felt like it, I'll do
my damnedest to make them *people*, not cardboard cutouts.

And finally, I find bad grammar and spelling horribly distracting.  I
don't claim to be perfect in that area, but I try.  If you find typos,
grammar errors, or out-and-out bad spelling, please let me know.  I'll
do my best to fix it before it goes out again.  I write these stories
for enjoyment, both mine and yours.  I hope I've achieved my goal.

Javahead

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			    "Whore"
			      by
			    Javahead


I hate wearing business suits.  Dressing for an  evening  out  is
fun; you can show some flair if you want.  But business suits are
*supposed* to be boring.  Hell, that's the point.   You  want  to
look  conservative, trustworthy, conventional, inoffensive - in a
word, bland.  Don't want to scare off a potential customer, after
all.  And they're usually uncomfortable, too.

You can also get tired of strange hotel rooms.  This  one  wasn't
too  bad.   It  had  a  king sized bed; the bathroom was actually
pretty nice.  It even had a minibar that I  had  already  stocked
with my own ice and soda. But it was still a hotel room: standard
fittings, easy to clean  up,  interchangeable  with  hundreds  of
others  across the country.  After a while on the road, the walls
can start closing in on you.

So what was I doing wearing a business suit, sitting in  a  hotel
room  and staring at the walls?  Feeling pretty lonely and bored,
that's what.  At least I'd be checking out tomorrow.

There  was  nothing  on  TV  that  sounded  interesting.   I  had
forgotten  to  bring  a  book  to read, and my chances of finding
something worth reading after everything  but  all-night  markets
had  already closed seemed dim.  I felt bored, irritable, and not
at all sleepy.  Let's be honest, frustrated and horny, too.   The
whisky bottle by the bar looked *too* tempting for me to open it;
I like to drink to enjoy it, not to get drunk, and if  I  started
alone now I would probably kill the bottle.  I decided to head to
a liquor store I'd spotted earlier, a few blocks  away.   Lacking
anything  better,  they  could  be  counted  on  to have a pretty
complete  collection  of  girly  magazines.   Probably  leave  me
feeling even more frustrated, but what the hell.

I got the car out of the lot and headed over.  The hotel  was  in
an  OK  area, but the few blocks over to the store cut across the
local red-light district.  You know what I mean; every major city
has  one,  a  place with adult bookstores, maybe a strip joint or
two - and hookers on every street corner.

By the time I'd gone a couple of blocks, I'd seen  over  a  dozen
girls.  Bright,  tight, scanty clothes and garish makeup were the
only constant. The girls themselves ranged from sort-of pretty to
plain,  gaunt to plump, a pale blond with big hair to a very dark
black with her hair up in hundreds of beaded braids.

Despite myself, I was tempted.  "No  one  else  could  ever  find
out",  I told my conscience, "And I'll make *damn* sure to wear a
condom".  At the next light, I turned to circle the block.

I wasn't in any hurry now; I  wanted  to  survey  all  the  local
talent  and chose the one most to my taste.  "Or maybe I'll still
turn back," I told myself, knowing it was a lie.

As I came down the block for the second time, the door of a seedy
looking  all  night donut shop at the far corner swung open and a
girl stepped out.  She was standing on the curb directly under  a
streetlight  before  I  drew  level.  From a distance, she looked
like what I had in mind.   Long  dark  hair.   Medium-dark  skin.
Slender.   Rather  short.  Hispanic?  Asian?  Italian,  maybe?  I
couldn't tell, but I slowed to take a closer look.  As  I  braked
to a stop, she stepped confidently up to the door of the car.

She paused with her hand on the door handle, peering suspiciously
in.   I stared right back.  Up close,  definitely Asian features.
Young, but not  a  kid  ("probably  more  experienced"  whispered
through  my  mind).  Small  breasts,  but her thin white tube top
looked damn nice on her.  A short, side-button  blue  mini  skirt
with  the  bottom  two  buttons  undone.   Knee-high boots. Black
leather purse on a shoulder strap.

"I *want* her," I decided. When I smiled at her  and  patted  the
seat, she slipped in.

"Want a ride?" I asked, starting the ritual.

"Maybe."  She regarded me carefully. "Can you prove you're not  a
cop?"

"Can you prove *you're* not?" I returned.  Some  of  her  tension
eased, but she remained wary.

She glanced around.  Satisfied that no prowl car  was  in  sight,
she  pulled down one side of her tube top for a moment.  I caught
a mouth-watering glimpse of an erect,  dark-brown  nipple  before
she pulled it back up.

"Your turn."

I placed her hand on top of my bulging crotch.   She  gave  it  a
squeeze before pulling her hand back.

"What do you want to do?" she asked.  Her tone  was  considerably
less  hard, though still controlled.  Definitely a lady who could
watch out for herself.

"How much do you charge?"

"I'll give you a head job here in the car for $25.  For $75, I'll
give you a straight fuck, but you've got to rent a room if you're
not staying in a hotel close by.  $100, I'll give  you  half  and
half - you can come twice.  Tell you what - it's kind of late and
getting cold.  For $200, I'll give you all night."

"Kind of expensive for all night.  I  probably  can't  come  more
than  two  or  three  times, anyway.  What makes you think you're
worth it?"

"I'm worth it.  Look at this." She lifted the front of her  skirt
and  pulled  her  panties  to  one  side,  revealing  her closely
cropped, black haired crotch. Dark brown  cunt  lips,  almost  as
dark  as  the  nipple she had flashed, pouted slightly. "I've got
the tightest pussy on the street.  I get my health checked once a
week,  and  make all my johns wear rubbers, so you're going to be
safe - you couldn't pay me enough to take it bareback.  Besides -
"  she  gave  a  crooked  grin "I saw the way you gave me the eye
before you pulled over.  Got a thing for oriental girls, hmm?"

"Maybe." I smiled back.  "Or maybe I just think  you've  got  the
prettiest  cunt  I've seen in a long time.  All night it is.  You
charge extra if I want to eat you out?"

She gave me an approving look. "Do a good enough  job,  and  it's
free. Get me to come, and I might even consider a refund."

Fortunately, the hotel was one of those California affairs with a
parking  lot  to  the  side rather than a garage, and a side door
that my room key could open.  I didn't want to  try  talking  her
past  the front desk - her clothes shrieked "street whore" from a
block away.  We didn't meet anyone on  the  elevator  or  in  the
hall.   With  a  feeling  of relief, I swung the door of the room
closed behind her.

She surveyed the room carefully.  "Nice.  Not bad  at  all.   You
gotta get up early in the morning, or can we take our time?"

"I need to check out by 12:30.  If you want,  we  can  sleep  in.
Room service breakfast, maybe?"

I was rewarded with a speculative smile.  "Mm.   You  aren't  too
bad, stranger.  Got something I can call you?"

"Dave.  And you're . . ."

"Nita."

Before she asked, I counted out $200 and handed  it  to  her.   I
suddenly  realized that if she stayed here, she could easily slip
out with my wallet while I was sleeping.  She gave a grin  at  my
worried look.

"Never in the Navy, were you?"

"What?"

"Look, I'll show you.  I'm honest, and I'm not  gonna  roll  you,
but *you* don't know that - so let me show you something."

She had me raise the mattress and place my wallet underneath  the
middle.  There was no way she'd be able to get it out while I was
sleeping on top without waking me.  When she said she was honest,
she must mean it.

Nita surprised me again by declining my offer of a drink,  though
she  did  accept  a soda.  She went along enthusiastically when I
suggested we clean up before bed, though.  Probably  a  treat  to
have  a  customer  who  didn't smell of stale sweat and cigarette
smoke.

The bathroom got a nod of approval.   She  bypassed  the  tub  in
favor  of  the  large  shower  stall, and quickly skinned off her
clothes.

Her body was everything I had hoped  for.   Short,  slender,  but
definitely  feminine.  Nice, tight, bottom.  Neatly trimmed pubic
patch.  Small breasts with large, erect nipples. I had  her  turn
around slowly so I could see all of her.

She gave an indulgent smile when I pulled  her  close  enough  to
suckle  on  a  nipple,  but  pushed  me  gently  away after a few
seconds.  "Careful, Dave.  Shower now.  You can  do  that  later,
maybe."

The shower was fun - she insisted on washing  me,  and  used  her
whole  body  to do it with.  I had to force myself to slow down -
having that slippery, nude body rubbed all over mine  had  me  on
the  verge  of orgasm several times.  She seemed to enjoy teasing
me - whenever she sensed that I was close  to  coming  she  would
ease  back.   It was almost a relief when she shut the shower off
and reached for a towel to dry me.

Still wrapped in towels, we returned to the bedroom.  She  turned
back  the  sheet  on the bed, and waved for me to sit down.  From
her purse, she pulled a small, foil-wrapped packet  -  a  condom.
She gave a slightly apologetic smile.

"Remember, I warned you that you have to wear it.  Besides,  it's
safer for you this way."

"Safer for you, too.  I'd hate for you  to  get  something  nasty
from a customer."

Apparently, I'd said the right thing.  She pulled my  towel  off,
and  rolled  the  condom  onto  my almost painfully swollen cock.
Letting her own towel slide to the floor, she knelt  and  slipped
her mouth down over my rubber-encased penis.

She was *very* good.  Professional.  How many cocks does  a  girl
have  to  eat to gain that kind of skill? I wrapped both hands in
her hair and released myself to the experience.  I  was  grateful
for the condom - I wanted this to last, and I was already halfway
there from her  teasing  in  the  shower.   I  tried  to  breathe
steadily  and  control my reactions, but it only helped slightly.
Despite all I could do I soon passed the point of no  return.   I
don't believe I have ever had a more powerful orgasm.

Afterwards, I collapsed on the bed, momentarily limp.  Nita  went
into  the  bathroom briefly, and returned with a warm cloth.  She
removed the condom from my rapidly softening dick, and  used  the
cloth  to  give  it  a careful washing.  Only after she was fully
satisfied with its cleanliness did she return the cloth  and  the
towels to the bathroom.

Still nude, she slid into bed beside me.

"I know it'll be a while before you can go again.  You wanna suck
my titties some, like you were doing earlier?"

She had marvelous nipples - large,  dark  brown,  and  always  at
least  half  erect.   Sensitive,  too - she would giggle and pull
back if I got  too  enthusiastic.   Sooner  than  I  had  thought
possible, I felt the beginnings of desire returning.

This time, I pushed her back on the bed.  When  she  reached  for
her purse, I stopped her.

"Later.  I want to eat your cunt first."

"You *were* serious - I wasn't sure.  Do you know  how  many  men
I've had in there?"

"Probably none as horny as I feel right now when  I  think  about
eating  it. I *love* pussy, and yours is about the prettiest I've
seen."

It was, too.  Her cunt had medium  lips,  just  a  shade  lighter
brown  than  her  nipples.  She kept her bush neatly trimmed; the
sparse hair was glossy black and as straight as the hair  on  her
head.   Despite  her  professionalism,  she seemed to be at least
mildly turned on; the inner lips were folded back, and a sheen of
lubrication  covered  them.   Both her inner cunt and her swollen
clit were a deep, reddish pink.

I took a moment to savor  the  clean,  salty/musky  aroma  before
diving  in.   The taste was as delicious her smell had promised -
clean, tangy, with a slight salt aftertaste.  At first,  she  let
me  do whatever I wished, but her hands soon came down and pulled
my head more firmly into place.  I could  feel  her  pushing  her
pussy harder into my face, as well. Soon, she was controlling the
pace.

I could have happily continued for most of  the  night,  but  she
wouldn't allow it.  Her demands became more and more urgent, more
and more frantic.  Finally, she ground her pussy into my face  as
hard  as  she  could  and  stiffened;   after  a few seconds, she
shuddered and relaxed.

I lifted my head and looked up.  Her eyes were half-closed.   Her
upper  chest  had a reddish flush, while her nipples had hardened
into swollen spikes.  Unless she was a fine actress, she had just
had an orgasm, and a powerful one.

She gave me a shaky grin. "Do you know how long it's been since I
came with a customer?  Maybe I *should* give you a refund."

I grinned back. "My pleasure, Ma'm.  But  don't  worry  -  you'll
earn it all by morning."

"Give me a moment to recover, and I'll start."

By now, I was rock-hard once again.  This time, after rolling the
condom  into  place, she laid back on the bed and spread her legs
invitingly.

"Want to see if my pussy is as good as I claim?"

My reply left me seated to the hilt.  She  hadn't  been  bragging
too  much.   Despite  the  hundreds? thousands? of cocks that had
explored it, it was the tightest I'd ever experienced.

"How . . . can you . . . handle . . . the really . . . big guys?"
I asked as I thrust.

"Painfully .  .  .  sometimes .  .  .  I'm glad you're  .   .   .
more  normal." She emphasized her point by clamping down with her
vagina.  I was amazed - she had been  tight  before,  but  now  I
could barely move.

She had a further surprise in  store,  though.   As  I  began  to
thrust  faster,  her legs went up further and tightened.  I could
suddenly feel her heels digging into the small of my  back  as  I
pounded  into  her wide-open cunt.  In this position, penetration
was even deeper - it felt as if  I  was  bottoming  out  on  each
stroke.  I bellowed incoherently as I came.

Once again, she cleaned me carefully.  After placing a couple  of
condoms  on  the bedside table, she dimmed the lights and cuddled
her naked back up against me, pulling my arm over her so that  my
hand  cupped  a  small  breast.  Through a haze of sleep, I could
hear her even breathing gradually slow and mix with a few  small,
ladylike, snores.

*************************************************************************

Waking  up  in  a  strange  hotel  room  with a naked woman isn't
something I do too often; I was disoriented for a moment.  Almost
immediately,  the  memories of the previous night flooded back in
and I relaxed.  We  hadn't  shifted  our  positions  much  during
sleep; my hand was still cupping her breast.  I idly ran my thumb
across her nipple, enjoying the sensation.

From the position  of  the  sun  on  the  wall,  it  was  already
midmorning.  Reluctantly, I shook her awake.  She came awake more
gradually than I had, but didn't show any signs of confusion.  No
doubt, she was used to waking up in this sort of circumstance.

Once she was fully awake, she slid out of  bed  and  stretched  -
arms up, chest out, legs taut - before heading into the bathroom.
I admired the motion of her bare ass as she walked away.

Returning from my own visit, I found her still nude, lounging  on
the  bed.  She gave a half-pleased, half mocking smile as she saw
my cock beginning to respond.

"Want your money's worth, don't you, Dave?"

"Wouldn't you be worried if I didn't?  Think of it as . .  .  job
security."

She gave a short laugh.  "Maybe you're  right.   Looks  like  I'm
*real* secure right now, doesn't it?"

This time, after rolling the condom in place, she pushed me on my
back.  Once  I  was  down,  she  swung  a leg over me and lowered
herself onto my waiting cock.

Astride me, she could control the  tempo.   Rather  than  urgent,
frenzied  pace  of  the night before, she took it slowly, easily.
Perhaps because of this, the feeling was different; the mood  was
relaxed,  friendly,  almost tender.  Judging by her gentle smile,
she found the act at least mildly  pleasant;  she  almost  purred
when  I  began to gently stroke her sides and back.  As my orgasm
slowly built, I allowed myself the hope that she  liked  me,  not
just   my   money.   Perhaps   if  we  had  met  under  different
circumstances we might have dated . . .

I pulled myself back from  that.   However  nice,  she  was  here
because  I  had  paid her money; her trim body and exquisite cunt
were for rent, and I musn't let myself forget it.

("But I still like her.") I told myself.  ("And I can  treat  her
nicely while she's here.")

This time, when I came, it was as unhurried and easy as  the  act
that  had  produced  it.  I held her on my chest long after I had
finished, savoring the contact.  I would have loved to  hold  her
there all day.  All too soon, though, she slid off.

Rather than wait for her to  return,  I  followed  her  into  the
bathroom  and  disposed  of the condom myself.  I didn't protest,
though, when she insisted on helping me clean up.

"Feel like breakfast?" I asked.  "I can call room service."

"Not afraid of starting gossip?  They'll *know*  I  don't  belong
here."

"Screw that.  Anyway, I probably won't be back here for a while."

"You sold me.   Too  bad,  though.   I  was  hoping  you'd  be  a
regular."

I did my best to conceal the pleasure I felt at her last remark.

("Down, boy.  She's probably a wonderful actress.  Even if  I  do
hope she meant it.")

After I called our order in, I retrieved my wallet from under the
mattress  and pulled my pants on; after all, I needed to open the
door and tip the waiter. She watched  me  with  amusement  for  a
moment,  then  slid  back  into bed, pulling up the covers to her
chin.  I raised an eyebrow quizzically.

She gave me a devilish look. "Since you don't mind gossip, I want
breakfast  in  bed.   If you're not afraid I'll shock the waiter,
that is."

"Be my guest."

Breakfast arrived on a trolley pushed by a boy just a year or two
out  of  high  school.   After  his  first  rapid  glance  at  my
companion,  he did a remarkable job of pretending all was normal,
blandly  rolling  the trolley to the side of the bed, setting out
the food, and positioning Nita's bed tray.  It was only when  she
sat  up  to  eat  that his self-possession cracked; she seemingly
took no notice when the  covers  slid  down  to  her  waist.   He
absently  accepted his tip without checking the amount and backed
through the door.

"That was uncalled for."  I had a hard time not laughing.

"Well you *did* say 'Be my guest'."  It sounded  as  if  she  was
suppressing  a  giggle. "The poor boy acted as if he'd never seen
tits before."

"None  like  yours,  Nita.   None  like  yours.   Now  eat   your
breakfast."

She pulled her clothes back on while I buckled  up  my  suitcase.
In  the  bright sunlight streaming in from the windows, they were
even more revealing than they had been  the  night  before.   Her
skirt  ended  well  above  the knee, and the dark outlines of her
nipples could easily be seen through the thin white tube top.

"Well, Dave?  Was I worth the money?" Her voice  was  challenging
again.

"Actually, you've earned a bonus."

I pulled four $20 bills from my wallet and handed  them  to  her.
Her gaze softened.

"Do you want me to call you a cab?  I'll give you cab fare - or I
can drop you off if you'd like."

"You're checking out?  You can drop me off."

The waiter must have told his story;   I  saw  several  uniformed
heads  bob  out  of  the  door leading to the restaurant as I was
settling up, while the clerk pointedly ignored  Nita's  presence.
Her face wore a mocking smile; if anything, she appeared to enjoy
the whispers.

Contrary to what you'd expect, she lived in a nice house  in  the
suburbs.   For the first time since I'd picked her up, she showed
signs of uncertainty.

"Could I offer you some coffee, or something?"  Her voice sounded
almost  shy,  as if she was unsure that I would accept.  Her eyes
warmed when I nodded.

Once inside, she carefully closed and  latched  the  door  before
turning to me. I met her halfway.

For several minutes, we embraced in silence.

"Worth a bonus, was I?"

"Nita, you've got the talent to be a $1000 a night call girl, not
a street whore."

"Maybe I'll be that *next* time.  I had to  turn  down  six  guys
before  you  showed  up. Come on and help me change - it's almost
time to go pick up the kids."
