One Trick Penny – Chapter 7 - Sex Stories

One Trick Penny – Chapter 7

... She answered anyway. “Some men know what I do. It’s a problem when they suddenly decide they can’t handle it. It’s worse when they like me doing it. Oddly, more men like me fucking other guys for money, than not. As I say, most men are freaks. It's a whole Freudian thing that usually gets complicated.” “What if they don’t know?” “That has its pitfalls, too. There’s the obvious deception and explaining the odd hours is difficult. It’s hard to find the right balance. When I retire from the business, I’ll get a steady guy. Maybe one that isn’t all that much into sex.” “There are guys like that?” We both laughed and enjoyed the warmth on our naked bodies. ~ ~ ~ It turned out Dave managed to come up with an idea for our next date. It grew out of the parking garage scenario. I wasn’t all that wild about it when he described his plan, but he insisted we try it. Quinn would have hated the concept. She despised streetwalkers and everything that goes with them. She could go on and on about pimps, white slavery, lack of free will and a variety of other social ills. I never mentioned Dave's plan to her. Even though I was just going to be pretending at street hustling, she’d have tried to talk me out of it. Maybe I should have brought it up. In theory the plan was simple. There was a section of the city, mostly centered around Broadway, that was known for the late-night activities of street walkers. Dave would drop me off, dressed like one. I’d walk a block west while he circled back. ...

... He’d solicit me, and I’d lean up to the car to negotiate my price. After that, I’d hop into the passenger side, we’d find a secluded spot, and I’d provide him with a blowjob that he’d been so taken by. The entire thing should have taken less than a half hour. I’m sure many others have run this pretend sequence successfully with satisfactory results. Did I mention, I hated the idea? At night, this section of Broadway was seedy and filled with undesirables. When we arrived, the streets were bustling with activity. Dozens of strip clubs, adult book stores, all-night tattoo studios and dive bars lined the wide sidewalks; all with garish neon or ugly backlit signage, advertised their assorted nighttime attractions. Skivvy looking men and a few women milled around aimlessly outside. A night club at the corner, had a queue of couples behind crimson red velvet ropes waiting to qualify for admittance, as its loud urban music radiated from the open door and drowned out the silence of our vehicle as I looked for a secure location to disembark. In my short black moleskin skirt and backless blouse, I was actually overdressed compared to some of the women standing in the line. Dave suggested this might be a good spot. “Safety in numbers.” “No, I don’t want a crowd watching as I proposition a John.” I was ready to pack it in for the evening. My client turned a corner and headed down a side street. The area was quiet, and a small neighborhood bar stood out with a well illuminated front window. ...