Opening Pandora's Box - Chapter One - Sex Stories

Opening Pandora's Box - Chapter One

Would you love me if I told you? ***** I carry secrets. A life-journey's tale that has only till now, never been spoken of. ***** There is a serial killer on the loose. He has targeted ladies of the night. Dumping the bodies in plain sight, mutilated, for all to see. No one has been able to catch him. Six woman have been found till now. The police speculate that there is more than one killer. My phone wakes me from my slumber. It's Casandra. She is asking for a tip off. I would never do that, for it will taint my reputation. Casandra is a very young girl, pretty and innocent. The men were charmed by this but within a few weeks, her inexperience got the better of her. Bad habits were becoming noticeable. Late night drinking sprees and using one too many a tabs. The high market industry meant that you keep in pristine condition, clothes, makeup, hair, car, figure. Men pay top dollar to be in your company. You e****t them to VIP business events or ceremonies, and the casual dinners in between. One must not only look the part, but one must be able to hold any topic in conversation. Casandra could not maintain this and her inexperienced youthfulness got the better of her. She went from up market, to middle, to a common e****t that stands on a lighted corner in a shady part of town. Sadly, I put the phone down. I had seen this happen to many a girl. My heart went out to her, but business is business. This lifestyle is cut throat. You got to keep head strong. You get in, make ...

... your money, and get out. That's what most say, few ever achieve it. Most end up on the streets and this is where the serial killer picked off his victims, one by one. This is a career I have chosen. I am, what you call, high class or up market, take your pick. Body guards have been assigned to us due to the danger. My manager takes good care of his income trophies. I have a booking today. A dinner with one of my regulars. He likes a more mature, sophisticated look. Whilst sipping on my mourning coffee, I glance through my cupboard. Ah, I think I'll wear the ivory chiffon slip. A simple yet stunning dress. Below the knee length, lightly tied at the waist, with spaghetti straps. A simple gold trim. My mother always taught me. Keep the dress simple, and accessorise! And of course - The delectables underneath. A hand embroider strapless bustier with matching thong. My Mobile rang, its my body guard calling, prompt as always. Looking in the mirror, satisfied with the result I picked up my bag and tottered down the stairs towards the front door. We pulled up in front of the magnificent entrance to the 5 star hotel. My client, Chris, he had charm and what he lacked in youthfulness he made up for in his vitality and sheer sexuality. He exuded it from every pore of his body. Most of which I'd seen. Chris opened the door, smiled and walked to the lounge area, disdaining even the use of a towel. He was still in remarkably good shape, broad shoulders and a really manly chest, I also knew ...