The Working Girl Part One - Sex Stories

The Working Girl Part One

... Whoops, daddy, you just pissed me off. "For your information, I'm not a hooker, I am a courtesan. While sex is involved, it's more about the connection, the closeness, some guys have never actually had sex with me, but they pay me well to listen to their problems and be a non-judgmental sounding board. A service you found yourself in need of, right? And did you look on some sleazy adult website to find it? Craigslist? Did you pick me up on a streetcorner? No, you wanted something unique, and special, and you found it. Not that you expected it to be me, I'll grant you." "Are you even....going to school? or is this your education or career or what?" "Oh, I'm going to school all right, and the "loans" I'm paying off don't actually exist. I'm paid all the way until law school. Every penny of it earned by me. 4.0 average, tops in my class, and eagerly awaiting the next step. All paid for by me. I'm don't owe anyone a dime except for my Nordstrom's account which I'll pay tomorrow. I do 'nanny' a bit to hide the source of my income, and I do pay my taxes. Your little girl learned finance well, wouldn't you say?" He gave me a half relieved, half stunned look. "Well, that's not bad at all from the money side of it, but doing this...for money?" "Daddy, I'm what they want me to be, that's all, like I said, sometimes there's not even any sex. I listen to them, comfort them, offer advice on bedroom matters to the guys who might be able to fix things, and so on. I'm extremely careful, and ...

... have never caught anything, nor will I, and no, I don't do anything disgusting. I have certain limits, and they're respected." "When I'm done with law school, I will also have a vast network of professional men that know me well who will provide me with excellent contacts throughout my career. The circuit judge I see once a month will certainly be a helpful man to know, wouldn't you say? Above all, I'm discrete. No one will ever find out, about me, or about them." "Unless, of course, it's your father who drops by to try to forget his problems." he answered morosely. "Actually, what is going on? You're here, we should at least try to talk about your problems there. I do that part of it quite well, believe it or not." I said with a small smile. Like my first, he broke down at that point. A storm of weeping as he detailed mom's lack of interest, her devotion to charity work, her seeming ignoring of the fact that he'd kept himself in good shape and never said a word about her not looking like she did when she was 25. He let loose with torrents of emotion, and I comforted him, I held him close and let him get it out. Then I kissed him. Yes, yes, I know, my own father? Indeed. I was always daddy's girl, and once when I was twelve I'd accidentally opened the bedroom door to find him standing there sporting a huge erection. We both pretended it had never happened, but many years later I'd wondered what might have happened, and proceeded to fantasize about it. He was a very handsome ...