Aubree Learned a new Profession - Sex Stories

Aubree Learned a new Profession

... he deflated as he admitted, “Yeah, I don’t have time or energy to start dating and dancing around hints and promises. At my age handing over a few dollars once in a while is a lot quicker and more convenient.”

“Is that why we got kicked out of the last place, the rent money was collected by a condom?”

He frowned, “No, I can afford to get screwed occasionally.” That short assertion was the last said about my father’s spending habits.

I have a part-time job after school and on Sundays. Saturdays are mine. I’m saving to buy a car but my savings account is kind of tidal, rising one day, receding the next. Dad can’t help, his job keeps us afloat but we won’t be going to Cancun for a vacation anytime soon. One night I was lying in my room agonizing over the withdrawal of $24 from my savings when I recalled the day my dad paid to get laid. How fucking much did he hand over? I’m struggling just to keep lunch money and my dad is cashing his paycheck for his dick? Where’s his loyalty? To his daughter, or to what’s hanging between his legs? And what was his Sex Budget? I intended to ask both questions and just then was the right time. I got off my bed then went to my dad’s bedroom and clicked my nails on the door, “Dad? You awake?”

“Mmm? What? Something wrong?”

I sat on the end of the bed facing him, ankles crossed with my nightgown pressed between my legs by my hands which were laced together by the fingers resting between my knees, “How much and how often?

“What the ...

... hell?”

“How often do you run to the ghetto to buy some cheap ass? How cheap is that ass?”

“What the fuck time is it?”

“Time we talked about your hobby.”

“Goddammit girl, I gotta get up in the morning, get the fuck out of here.”

It wasn’t warm in the room so I pulled the blanket up and unfolded my legs to lie under it. I lay next to my father and pulled the blanket to my armpit, “Tell me.”

He was lying on his side facing me, “You’re not gonna let go of this are you?”

“Nope. How much do you pay and how often do you pay for it?”

“$100.”

“For what? Straight fuck? Suck? Both? Is there a time limit?” I was curious, being a whore wasn’t high on my list of careers to research so I didn’t know much.

My father pulled his head back and looked at me, “What the hell have you been smoking? Those are some pretty fucking adult questions?”

A year earlier my dad caught Todd Albright in bed with me on a night when he was supposed to be somewhere else. That was a lot of fun for about 30 seconds. After a long night of old-time inquisition, Dad knew a lot about my embryonic sex life. He knew I wasn’t Daddy’s Little Princess, “Come on Dad, we don’t have secrets, not now, and I’m just a tiny bit pissed off because I’m digging nickels out of the bottom of my purse while you're plugging holes with big notes. Why can’t I get an allowance raise or something?”

“How much do you get?”

“I get the same every month as I did five years ago. You leave $20 on my dresser but ...