My Secret Life: Chapter One - Sex Stories

My Secret Life: Chapter One

... comfortable with. I just didn’t think it would be this. “I don’t want to see you giving up on your dream and moving back home,” she said. “I know you didn’t come out here to do this. But it’s a means to an end to help you accomplish what you came out here to accomplish.” “I’ll think about it,” I said. Not much was said after that. I picked at my food and didn’t eat much of it. Thirty minutes later she picked up the check. We said our goodbyes and I headed home. On my way there I got a call from The Cheesecake Factory manager. He said he could only use me two days a week to start, but felt that he could probably bump that to 4 days within two months. After I told him I’d think about it, I pulled into a U.S. Bank parking lot and started crying. I thought I was the world’s biggest failure. I thought if I went home everyone would think I couldn’t cut it out here. I didn’t want anyone to think that. So I slid open my phone, and pressed Maureen’s number. Within three rings she answered and I told her I was in. When I got home Jackson was sitting on the couch looking pissed. He turned to me and yelled, “What the fuck were you thinking? I went out of my way to get you in there and you fucking tell my manager you’ll think about it. Do you know how many fucking applications he gets a week? Lots. Tomorrow you’re going to go in there and tell him you’ll work one fucking day a week to get your foot in the door.” “No,” I said. “Why the fuck not?” he yelled. “I didn’t come out here to be a ...

... waitress,” I replied. “No you came out here to be a fucking model, how’s that working out for you?” he screamed at the top of his lungs. At that moment my phone rang, it was Maureen. As I started to answer it Jackson yelled, “Don’t you fucking answer that.” “It’s Maureen,” I shouted. “I don’t fucking care,” he yelled. I answered it anyway. “Bitch,” he shouted and stormed into the bedroom. “Hey Maureen,” I said. “Three minutes after I uploaded your pics I got a call about you,” she said. “Where did you get my picture?” I asked. “I used your headshot,” she said. “We’ll get better pics up there soon.” “Okay,” I said. “I didn’t think it would happen this quick.” “Some clients are like vultures when they see a new a girl on the site,” she said. “Or in the gentlemen’s case it was perfect timing. His name is Franklin; he’s an advertising executive from Portland here on business. He said your pictures captivated him and desperately wants to meet you tonight around eight. Does that work for you?” “Yes,” I said. “Good,” she said. “He’s staying at Figueroa downtown. I’ll have a Town car pick you up at seven. The driver will give you his card; call him when you’re done. He’ll pick you up.” “Okay,” I said. “Three more things,” she said. “Bring condoms. He requested you wear a sexy black dress. Most important, he’s going to give you an envelope with eight hundred dollars in it. When you leave give Sean, the driver, three hundred of it. Understand?” “Yes,” I replied. “One last thing,” she ...