Business Studies 13


By Katzmarek


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Author's Note.


This is a work of erotic fiction. It may not be used for profit
without the author's express permission in writing.
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(Part 13)


ANGELA:


I squirm my arse over Mateo's tongue as Mok smoothes the condom over his erect prick. The Vietnamese 'hostess' points it towards her waiting pussy and raises herself, rubbing his tip around her entrance.


Next to her, Jorge strokes her thigh as she engulfs Mateo's member.


Mok shuts her eyes as she slides herself down onto Mateo. With her fingertips she explores my front from my shoulders down to my breasts and tummy. Her hands are feathery on my skin and I shiver with the sensation.


"Ange'," Jorge breaks the spell.


He lying there with his fat prick in his hand, waving it at me. I ease myself off Mateo and crawl around behind Mok, who's snaking her arse around Mateo's cock. She nudges me up and pulls my head toward hers. Before I can react she fastens her mouth to mine.


Her tongue seeks out mine, her hand strokes my breasts. 


This is not the first time I've ever kissed a girl. I once had a girl pal with whom we played around, but that was more of an experiment. Mok is seriously Frenching me while working on Mateo's cock. I don't know what else to do but kiss her back.


Her hand trips down to my pussy, her delicate wee fingers massage my clit, still juicy from Mateo's attention.


"You got nice kitty," she says, " nice bush..."


She takes my hand and guides it over her small breasts and down over her flat tummy. Her skin is like satin in it's smoothness. She presses my hand against her naked crack.


"You like?" she asks.


I nod.


"Hey!" calls Jorge, still holding his erection.


Mok smiles and releases me. Back to business!


I circle her and climb over Jorge. His prick already is rubber-clad and with his massaging, and our little show, he's kept it hard. I grab it and sit on it, undulating my bottom in Mok's fashion.


Jorge sucks in air through his teeth and strokes his hands up and down my sides. Another hand is on my tummy, Mok's, and drifts down to massage my clit once again. She leans across with her tongue out and I touch the tip with my own.


Her hand switches to my bum, fluttering over my cheeks, and a finger intrudes underneath. I think she's scraping her purple fingernail on Jorge's cock because he grunts and urges me to go faster on him.


Mok then fingers my arsehole. It feels like she wants to push it inside. 'How dare she,' I think, and I grab her own arse, seeking out her little puckered hole. 'Two can play at that game.'


Mateo groans, his body rises up from the bed trying push himself as far up Mok as he can.


"Uh, uh, uh..." he grunts, their bodies slapping at each other as Mok matches his rhythm.


Mok leaves me alone and bends forward to finish off her man. I watch in fascination as she rapidly bounces him to completion. She moans professionally at him as he mauls and pulls her nipples. He wants to French her and she obliges, suffering his slobbering tongue.


Suffering, because I don't think it really did that much for her. It looked to me like she was just doing her job and pleasing the customer.


She lies on him, Mateo's arms around her, perspiration shining on her small back. She turns to grin at me as I rise and fall on Jorge. It makes me lose concentration.


Jorge's still interested though, eyes closed and teeth bared. I know he's nearly there but I'm losing interest fast. Instead I climb off him, peel off his rubber, and finish him with my hand.


Afterwards I apologise to him. Puffing with exertion, he just smiles, calls me his angel, and tells me I was fantastic and could never disappoint him. He's being so sweet to me I give him a kiss.


A little later, Mateo and Jorge, sitting up naked on the bed, start back into the drink and have an animated conversation in their native language. Mok excuses herself and asks them if she could take a shower. Mateo and Jorge smile in assent and she grabs my hand.


"Come... both of us," she smiles.


Well, I need a shower and I'm also curious about Mok. We jump under the falling water and Mok imediately squirts me with soap from the dispenser. As she smears the suds over my body she asks,


"You like girls?"


I shrug in reply.


"Here is good," she says, "back home... too many rules... is free here."


"What did you do back in Vietnam?" I ask her.


"I work in clubs... for foreigners. Russians, Western men... all want same thing."


She soaps my breasts, tweeks my nipples, it sends thrills through me.


"I guess.... men are men." I reply.


"Yes... girls are better," she says, "softer... prettier."


She bends and sucks my nipple. Her little mouth, feathery tongue sends another jolt of feeling coursing through me.


"I think you like girls," she declares.


I go into a dreamlike state, just drifting in limbo. Mok's mouth is upon mine, her body squirming against me. She's becoming more passionate, her hands are on the back of my upper thighs, probing, feeling for my crack.


She nudges me backwards until I'm against the wall of the shower stall. She kisses down my body, nibbling and flicking her insistant little tongue. I look down, she has her eyes closed, the water cascading over her face and dripping from her hair. Her mouth seizes my sex and sucks.


I don't think this is the first time Mok's had a mouthful of a woman's juices. Her experienced tongue finds my sweet spot straight away sending a ripple through my body, knocking the air out of my lungs. I clutch her upturned face, my legs are feeling weak. Mok has her hands on my lower bottom stroking in the way I like.


She grips me hard against her mouth sending me wailing over the edge. I open my eyes to find Mok embracing me, I instinctively hold her body against mine.


"You hot Angie," she says, breathless.


I hate 'Angie,' it's SO bimboesque, but I let it pass. Holding her to me I think I should return the favour when there's a call from the next room.


"C'mon, girls. Time to go. They'll be charging overnight rates if we don't leave now."


Jorge is so funny with money. He'll part with $600 for an evening's sex yet won't pay an extra $100 for a room. He's says he's not paying for any more time than he can use.


I apologise to Mok as we get dressed. She says not to worry and gives me her phone number.


"You call?" she tells me, "you maybe be my friend?"


"Sure," I tell her, certain she means 'lover,' not 'friend.'


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Jorge drops me by the park as usual and I walk the short distance home. Mok blows me a kiss from the back of the limo.


Mum's still up when I get home, she's a real night owl. I guess considering the line of work she's been in it's hard to get out of bed at 7am.


"How much money did you make this time?" she asks.


When I tell her she clicks her tongue.


"What on earth did he make you do for that kind of money?"


"There were two of us," I tell her, "another girl."


"Oh, I see," she says, " that's a real male fantasy that one. Listen Angela, you're playing a dangerous game, you're two months short of your 18th birthday, if you get picked up..."


"I won't," I reassure her, "it's not as if I'm walking the streets..."


"Don't even think about it!" she warns, "there're evil characters out there. If I thought that's what you were doing I'd lock you up myself. Now," she says, " I think we need to have a talk."


"What about? I'm tired."


"You need to know that even though this Brazilian is all keen at present, it isn't going to last. What are you going to do when that happens?"


"Why wouldn't it last?" I ask her.


"Because my dear, you're his paid whore. One day he'll tire of you and find someone else, it's a fact of life. What happens then?"


"Find someone else, I suppose..."


"And do you think you'll always be lucky?"


"Why wouldn't I? I'm pretty good at judging men."


Mum laughs,


"No-one's good at judging anybody, Angela. Things are always fine to start with but it's a buyers choice. One day your guy will think to himself, 'hmm, Angela's friend's pretty cute, I wonder...' When he's paying he'll think he can discard you when he loses interest."


"I know how to keep Jorge interested."


"Oh," mum eyes my doubtfully, "and how far will you go? What will you do for him? Whips, torture, chains..."


"Jorge wouldn't do..."


"How do you know he wouldn't. He owns you doesn't he?"


"Rented..."  


"Well, while you're rented out to him you'd better check the fine print. Angela?" mum says gravely, "I think you can do better with your life than sell your arse around town."


"Like what, mum, a secretary? Like I can spell? Maybe working my arse off for 12 hours a day on some production line earning 8 bucks an hour? What the hell else am I good for?"


Mum sighs, rolls her eyes and her shoulders sag a little.


"Give yourself, say, five years. Take only what you need to live on and put the rest in the bank at the best interest rate you can get. Then, Angela love, get the hell out of it!"


"That's my plan!"


"Just make sure you stick to it!"


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TEE.


I've been studying hard these past three weeks. I switched off my mobile and left a message that I wasn't going to be disturbed. Just before bed I usually collect any messages.


There's about five from Angela, telling me about this girl she's met. There's a couple from Jonno, telling me he misses me and asking when he can see me next.


The guy sounds so desperate!


Then there's this interesting one from Rachael. She wishes that we could get together some time. Apparently Nick seems very busy these days and she's getting lonely. After a bit of soul-searching I decide to give her a call back in the morning, I'm a little worried by her state of mind.


When she answers her voice sounds all sleepy and I make some crack about 'late risers.'


"No, I've been up since seven," she tells me.


"Are you alright," I ask her, "you sound pretty low?"


"Just a bit bored," she says dismissively, "I've only been outside to do the shopping."


I tell her that can't be healthy and she needed to get out and go down to the beach, anything!


"But I don't have anyone to go with and I don't feel like being chatted-up by sleezy guys."


Ok, I can see where this is heading so I decide to take a day off from study and take her out. I'm pretty much up to date with everything now, and God know's I need a break.


I catch a bus around to her place and she's dressed ready to hit the town. We jump into her little car and she asks,


"Where are we going, not the Port I hope," she winks at me.


"How about that little garden restaurant for coffee, then maybe the Rose gardens after. I love it there this time of year."


"Sounds fine to me," she says and off we go.


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Our conversation is stilted at first. It feels like we have a lot to say but don't want to say it. Over coffee there's a lot of looking around and out the window as the talking breaks down. Afterwards we walk through the gardens and the tension is becoming unbearable.


"What's on your mind?" I finally ask.


At first she shrugs and declares there's nothing. She spends a long time gazing at the 'Orange Splendours' then she suddenly blurts out,


"Did you really like what we did together, that night?"


"Sure," I tell her, "why?"


"I've be thinking about it often."


"Me too," I reply.


"Really!" she says in surprise, some of the anxiety seems to drain from her features.


"I liked the bath," she declares with a chuckle, " it was fun!"


"Slippery."


"Wet!" she sparkles in an obvious double entendre.


"Hot!" I continue in the same vein.


Her body shivers.


"You're giving me goosebumps!"


Her fingers touch the tips of mine on the grass. I look up as her body shifts a little in my direction. Absently I watch her boobs move under her loose top.


"It's not wrong is it?" she asks.


"What?"


"Feeling... I don't know... this way towards another girl?"


"Why should it be, it's not unheard of," I try to comfort her, she's seems so fragile.


"No, but... well, you've had a different upbringing to me... I guess it'd be easier for you..."


"Easier? What are you trying to say, Rachael?"


I'm getting frustrated by all the hedging.


"I guess what I'm saying is... I've sort of developed these feelings for you... and I was wondering... maybe you felt a little the same way?"


"Oh... I um..." 


Even though I sort of expected what she was going to say, I'm still speechless. Seeing my confusion, Rachael withdraws her hand and straightens up.


"I'm sorry," she says turning back to the rose bush, "I feel stupid now..."


"No Rachael," I tell her, "I'm really flattered and it's alright, really!" 


I grab her hand and hold it in mine.


"Don't!" she says and tries to pull away.


She's nearly in tears.


"Rachael, don't shut down, please?" I tell her, "so I've got a girl lover," I tell her grinning.


"Don't humour me!" she snarls, "I don't need this shit!"


She tries to snatch her hand away once more but I grip it tighter.


"Let me go!" she says loudly.


Then we start to wrestle arms. After a little while her other hand clenches in a fist and she draws back, threatening to take a swing. I'm getting angry myself at this stage and grab her other wrist. With my weight I'm able to roll her onto her back and I fall on top of her. Pinning her to the grass by her wrists, my face inches from hers. 


"Bitch!" she snarls.


She looks so sexy like that, flat on her back with fire in her eyes and her cheeks flushed. Her chest is heaving from the exertion, I watch her breasts move beneath the fabric.


"God you're fucking sexy," I whisper to her.


"What?" her face screws up in shock.


"I said you looked..."


"I heard you," she interrupts, "why did you say that?"


I feel flushed with desire for this blonde woman. She looks back into my face with a mixture of curiosity, fear and arousal.


"Because I want to eat you," I find myself whispering to her.


"Here?" she grins, "in public?"


"Now wouldn't that be a show!" I look around at the other people. 


Some of them are staring at us, others give a sidelong glance and turn away, feigning indifference.


I let her up, reluctantly, and she sits up brushing the grass from her clothes.


"I'm going to have green stains on my best top," she notes, "I'm charging you for the dry-cleaning."


"A bit of bleach..." I start to tease.


"No way," she replies in mock outrage, "you're just trying to get out of paying!"


I inspect her back and declare there's no great damage done. I run my hand down her back, feeling her bra strap under the cotton. She shivers again and tells me my hands feel nice.


"You're grubby," I tell her, " I think you need a bath."


"I only have a shower," she tells me.


"Pity! I guess it'd have to do."


"Shall we go?" she asks looking back to me.


Her voice is low, still uncertain.


"Sure! Why not?"


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We walk back to the car hand in hand. Some old guy we pass eyes us suspiciously and Rachael winks at him. He looks away in disgust.


"Jealous old bastard!" I say to Rachael in a low voice.


She wriggles her arse in his direction, laughing. She looks back to him,


"Dream, sugar!" she calls back as he moves away.


In minutes she's a totally different person. That's what I'm finding out about Rachael, her moods swing really suddenly. I'm wondering whether she suffers a bit from a mild bi-polar disorder.


In the car on the way to her place she sings to the radio. We stop at the lights one time, and this cyclist pulls up by the driver's window. He's wearing this tight lycra over his slim body. He looks gorgeous but he couldn't be any older than 15.


"Will you look at that!" Rachael says in mock wonder, "now THAT is a work of nature!"


Her voice is really loud and he must be able to hear through the open window.


"Yummy!" I add in a quieter voice.


"Hey babe!" she calls, "are you going anywhere near Whitfield Meadows?"


The boy looks at us, a puzzled expression on his face.


"Where?" he asks innocently.


"The Meadows, right at the roundabout?"


"No, I'm going to practice," he says, trying to be respectful, "Earnest Young park... um... why?"


Rachael then whips up her top and pulls down the right cup of her bra, exposing her nipple.


"Want to practice on this?" she asks, giggling like a schoolgirl.


I bury my face in my hands as the guy practically falls off his mountain bike. The lights go green and we leave the poor guy wobbling in the middle of the traffic.


"Rachael!" I tell her, "that's outrageous! The poor boy could've been run over."


She continues to laugh and says,


"I wouldn't care to wash his sheets in the morning!"


"Ooo, that's disgusting!" and then I'm laughing too.


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The rest of the way to Rachael's place we are in high spirits. She makes these obscene remarks about the poor cyclist and what it must be like to ride with a 'third handlebar.'


"Do you think I'd look good in lycra?"


I assure her that she'd look good in a hessian sack.


"Well you'd only have the one tie to undo," she suggests.


About a kilometre away from her house she suddenly says,


"Give us a flash!"


"What?" I ask in horror.


"C'mon, lift up your top, give us a peek." 


"No! In the middle of the street? You're crazy!"


"Go on, I did... just a little, c'mon," she insists.


I look around quickly to check if there are any other cars. I then lift the corner of my top to just above my right boob.


"There," I announce.


Rachael reaches across and jerks down my bra cup. I try and pull my top back down, but she seizes my bare breast with her hand and squeezes.


"Stop it," I protest and I pull the cotton down over her intruding hand, at least.


It's just as well she drives an automatic because she cups my boob all the way back to her place. 


Her garage is attached to the house with an internal access. The door opens with a remote control and we drive straight in. The door is already lowering when Rachael stops the engine. Right away Rachael bends over my chest and feeds my bare breast into her mouth. I stroke her hair as she suckles me like a baby.


"Hadn't we... um... better get inside," I suggest.


Taking her mouth of me for a second, she says,


"I've wanted to do this since the gardens," she breathes, " if I'd been on top," she adds with a kiss to my nipple, "I'd have had your top off in a fraction."


I try to speak but she plants her mouth on mine and we lock tongues in a fiercely passionate kiss. I hold her around the shoulders, eventually supporting her weight.


"Lets go inside," she declares, " this is bloody uncomfortable."


"Good idea," I agree, reeling and light-headed from the embrace.


Inside she takes my hand and leads me towards a door.


"Come, the bedroom's this way."


"I thought you wanted a shower?" I ask.


"And I thought you wanted to eat me?" she replies.


I stumble after her through the door. Inside she tugs at my dishevelled top.


"Get it off," she orders, "I want to see them, taste them."


She sits on the bed and pulls me to her. I lift my top over my head but I'm too slow for her. She pulls the front of my bra down and suckles me again. I try to undo the strap to take it completely off, but in the end it just gets pushed down around my tummy.


She nibbles and sucks me for a while before turning her face up for a kiss. I roll back onto the bed on my back and Rachael falls on top. She pins me by the wrists as she sits up on me.


"Got you," she declares.


She looks down at my wobbling breasts and grins in malicious satisfaction.


"I can see you're not built for speed," she tells me, "but comfort."


"That's nasty," I tell her, "and what are you built for?"


Rachael begins to undo the buttons of her white top.


"You tell me," she says as she slowly reveals her own, bra covered twin cones.


Katzmarek (C)