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Takeover Publishing Presents....Why I Got to Be a Whore
“Whose pussy is this?” he asks.
“It’s yours!” I scream.
“Say it louder.”
I scream louder, “It’s yours, daddy!”
As the sweat is running down his face, he bites the bottom of his lip and says, “Damn right it’s mine, now turn your ass around and spread your legs.”
I flip onto my stomach in a doggy style position and he strokes as hard as he can. I scream, “Take it easy baby, you’re hurting me.”
“Shut the fuck up, not until I get my nut first.”
As I lay there while this sex maniac tries to knock a hole in my pussy, I am really turned on by this nut trying to get nut. What would my colleagues at the law firm say if they ever knew that I am a nympho? He finally comes, and just like the typical male he rolls over and lays there staring at the ceiling.
Sometimes I wonder why I waste my time with Greg--he don’t have a job, he’s 28 years old still staying at home with his mother…then when I turn to look at him, I remember—it’s the dick—boy, you can’t find good dick like this. I look at the alarm clock. It reads 8:45. I jump up.
“Hey, what’s wrong baby, ain’t we going for seconds?”
“Not this morning sweetheart, as much as I would like to, I have a client that I have to meet.”
Greg reaches down and begins to massage my pussy. I purr, “Not right now, as much as I would like to, this is an important meeting that I have.”
He drops down to his knees and begins eating me out.
What the hell, I would never deny anyone something to eat. Within ten minutes or so, I am brought to my climax. When he comes up, his mouth resembles an ice cream cone, and it smells like tuna. I love him, but all that trying to kiss me after sucking my pussy is a no no. Yes, it’s my pussy, but that don’t mean that I have to taste it. I run to the bathroom and jump in the shower. Just thinking about the way Greg satisfied my sexual needs had me ready to come. As I dry off, I go to the closet to pull out a suit. I find one suit that always catches my clients’ attention. I sit down on the bed. That’s when I notice that Greg left me a letter. It reads:
While you was in the shower I didn’t want to bother you, so I went into your bag and took out $50.00. I will repay you the next time I see you. La the da…
He took $50.00--who the hell he thinks he is? When I think about it, shit, I would have given him much more just for his service. I reach into my drawer and pull out my Victoria’s Secret thong and matching bra. I pick up the phone and call into the office, knowing I am running late. As the phone rings I stand in front of
Takeover Publishing Presents....
Why I Got to Be a Whore
the mirror. Damn, I look good. Most men would kill for a bitch like me—5’9” with a figure that boasts 36-26-38. This bitch’s body banging, face flawless, with
caramel complexioned skin and hair that is long and silky. Shit, I could have been a supermodel if the ass wasn’t so fat. My observation is cut short when Shelia answers the phone.
“Hello, Green, Graham, and Rogers, how can I help you?”
“Good morning Shelia, it’s me, Jackie.”
“Hey Jackie, what’s up?”
Me and Shelia are close. Her boyfriend had been locked up and she didn’t want the firm to know, but she needed help. So I represented her boyfriend for no fee and never told the firm, but what she didn’t know is that her boyfriend finally did pay me and not with money—he must have been…
“Oh, my bad Shelia, I have a 9:30 am meeting with a client that Mr. Rogers set up.”
“Hold on Jackie