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I walk to the bathroom and survey the toiletries—soaps, shampoos, and face soap. I decide to shower, and turned on the water to max heat, a temperature that might cleanse me of tonight but also will just add to the lust brewing within me. I let the water run over my body and feel the heightened sensation of pleasure as I run my fingers over my bare pussy.
The man that I had fucked is long forgotten. But the act of recklessness has not. The act of bucking against society’s conventions is seared into my brain. The idea of being an actual slut is bouncing through my brain and excitingme.
I begin to slowly massage my pussy lips. I shudder as I feel a wave of growing pleasure course through my spine.
But wait,I think to myself. Not here. Notyet.
Deciding to hold off on my pleasure until I’m alone, I concentrate on my shower.
After showering, I towel dry and slip back into my green evening gown. When I return to the room, I find the old man sleeping, face down in the oversized pillows. He put his boxers back on with his socks pulled up to his knees. I detect a faint snore.
This is when I really need a cigarette I think, despite the fact that I quit years ago. I look at the digital clock on the nightstand. It reads 12:54 a.m. It is late, way later than I ever stay up athome.
I tap the man on the shoulder. "I have to go," Isay.
He opens his eyes and extends his hand. "Don't go," he says. "Stay a while. Order room service. It's onme."
"Sorry, but I can't," I reply. "It'slate."
I walk over to the dresser, grab the $1,000, place it in my purse, and leave the room. There is something empowering about being used and leaving behind a man that wants more which makes me feel good. In fact, I realize that I crave more…just not from Rick. Not from anyone in particular. I want the money and the thrill.
I can't believe it. I fuck a complete stranger and pocket $1,000 and because it thrills me, my mind begins to make future calculations. What if I do this again? I begin to wonder, and then quickly shut down those thoughts. This has to be the first and last time. I can’t just decide to become a prostitute.
But that doesn’t stop me from feeling amazing. I fucked a guy and walked away with $1,000 cash in hand with no negative repercussions. It isn’t so bad. The sex wasn’t so good, but the experience was definitely not terrible. It could be worse. And besides, no one will ever know. This makes me feel powerful, desirable, and invincible.
I can still hardly believe the turn of events. In just 24 hours, I, Christina Worthington, go from practicing yoga poses beside her home in the Hollywood Hills, managing a career as a hospitality events manager to, in the blink of an eye, driving to Las Vegas for a work-related hospitality convention. I am convinced by a co-worker to join her at a Vegas nightclub, and I meet a mysterious wealthy older man who asks me to sleep with him for $1,000. And beyond all conceivable conclusions, I agree to that man’s terms and go through with the deal. Could my day get any stranger?
As if fate decided to answer me, I feel my phone vibrate the moment I step into my hotel room. I pull it out and see it is David.
“Hey…I knew you were at your convention and I wanted to check in,” David says when I accept the FaceTimecall.
“Hey…,” I say with a smile. “Thanks for asking. I'm enjoying myself.”
“Good,” David says. He’s looking at my cleavage in my dress and he’s not hiding the fact that he’s looking.
I like it. I came back to my hotel room to masturbate to thoughts of him, and here heis.
The familiar tingle I felt in the shower comes back to me and this time, I lay down on the couch, unceremoniously hiking up my dress until I am able to get two fingers massaging and stroking my pussylips.
David can only see my face, but he must know that I’m lying down now with less than appropriate intentions.
I look him right in the eye and run my fingers up and down my pussy, teasing myself with how wicked this momentis.
“Enjoying yourself,” David repeats. I know he’s ontome.
“To thoughts of you,” I say, taking the total leap. He might dodge the innuendo, or I might get a digital assist, and right now I’m willing to take therisk.
“Fuck, Christina,” David groans and I see his hand reach down. “My cock gets so fucking hard thinking about you. That dress is fucking stunning, but I’d love for you to take itoff.”
So David and I have passed the point of no return.
Good. Today, I abandoned my morals. I may have started when I fucked David, but I signed the contract when another man’s cock came inside of me (in a condom) and I took $1000 for it. I came back to my room to masturbate to my stepson. Now, he’s masturbating withme.
“Show me your cock. I wanna see you stroke it while I tell you what I wish you were here to do to me,” I say, already peeling off my dress as quickly as I can. I’m looking forward to being a sexual aggressor right now, and I don’t want to lose the filthy momentum that I seem tohave.
“Yes, fuck, god your tits are so perfect,” David bites his lip and lowers the camera to his cock. I see his fist grip all 12 inches of throbbing cock, and already the head is glistening with pre-cum. “That lace bra needs ripping off, I wanna shred it off you with my teeth.” David pumps his cock harder.
But I’ve got more. “Yeah, I want that. I want you to do the same with the little panties. I want you to pull them off me with one hand and shove them in my mouth, and make me taste how wet my pussy is because I want to fuck my stepson.” I lower the camera and show him my panties. I reveal the soaking wet triangle and push it aside to show him my bare pussy.
