The Escort and the Dirty Conscience - Sex Stories

The Escort and the Dirty Conscience

... couldn’t decide what had been dirtier… the reality of what I had done, or the fact that I was still so excited by it. I moaned and settled back, sliding two fingers in and out, imagining it was his cock, while my thumb buzzed over my clit in rapid movements. I could feel my chest rising and falling, my nipples hard as stones as they breached the surface of the bathwater, feeling the cold air in sharp contrast to the hot water that stung my skin below. I kept up each separate yet hurried movement, biting my lower lip as I felt myself rising in my excitement level. Oh god… yes… I was so close… just a little more… The sharp slam of the front door sounded like a resounding slap to my consciousness. I startled, drawing in my breath sharply. I paused in the silence, listening. Soon enough, I could hear Liana calling my name. “Alison? You home yet?” Quickly I removed my hand from between my legs and nervously brushed back my damp blonde hair, somehow feeling nervous about seeing her after everything that had happened. The doorknob to the bathroom door rattled before she swung it open nonchalantly, as though she had every right to invade my privacy. Perhaps knowing that I had finally taken that step and sold myself for money had removed any conservative pretences she might have indulged me with before. My roommate Liana smirked at me from the doorway. “Washing away your sin already?” she quipped. She wandered in all her long legged beauty and perched on the edge of the tub, ...

... completely casual to my flushed nudity. I squirmed in the tub, trying to slide down into the hot water and hide what evidence I feared my body might give away. I couldn’t meet her eyes. “It went fine.” There was a long pause of silence before I added. “I’m not doing it again.” I’m not sure how much I believed my own words, but I felt compelled to say them. After all, Conrad was Liana’s client. And despite having agreed in that moment to see him again, I didn’t want her thinking I was interested in challenging her territory. She cocked her head as though she doubted me instantly. “Never again, huh? So you didn’t enjoy yourself?” “No,” I said too quickly. I laughed nervously. “I mean… it was… intense. Too intense for me, if you know what I mean. He’s… twisted. And it was just this one favor. I mean I appreciate how glamorous you make it all sound, Liana. But we’re very different people. And this whole scene… it’s not for me.” I felt myself shrinking away from the way her eyes raked over me, as though testing my words for validity. Liana had a feral kind of blonde beauty that had always seemed a little cold to me. She was Russian by birth, although her voice had only retained but a slight hint of her eastern European heritage. She was tall, with small, tight curves that made her look more graceful and blue-blood than her real history of having spent most of her youth as an underage stripper and occasional model. She sniffled slightly and tipped her head back, as though she too were ...