“Oh, I'll be back again. Don't worry.”

“And keep in touch with me through e-mail, okay?” Pamela told me to say that to every client I party with. It promoted the website and exchanging e-mail helped create an ongoing bond with tricks. “After you see Scarlett tonight, come say goodbye to me one more time unless I'm with another client, alright?”

“Kayleigh,” Colt said after Darius was gone and she and Pamela passed by the bar, “you have another appointment in forty minutes, so I suggest you shower and get ready.”

“What?” Lindsay asked, blinking at the unexpected news. “Another appointment? A party?” Why did it feel like a noose just tightened around her neck? Lindsay was tired but needed the money.

Colt nodded. “Same guy you were with this morning. Ryker from Kansas? He wants you as a schoolgirl with pigtails. Will be booking two hours.”

“Ryker is still here?” That ape? Lindsay placed a hand across her throat. “I thought he said he was driving up north to check out the brothels there too.”

“We want him to stay and spend his money here instead. Work your magic, Kayleigh. You have him hooked. He doesn't have to travel upstate when we have everything he needs here. Work it, girlfriend.”

Pamela brushed hair from Lindsay’s face with the most considerate gaze. “Saturdays can be crazy around here, Lindsay.” She kissed her forehead. “It's our busiest day of the week. You don't have to party with him again if you need a break. It's your choice.”

“Kayleigh,” Colt corrected her.

Pamela shot an unhappy, yet fleeting glance toward her husband, but soon refocused on Lindsay. “Kayleigh.” After what happened between them last night, Pamela only planned on calling her “Kayleigh” if a customer was present from now on. That was because Lindsay confided in her that she hated being called by her working name. “This is still your first week and all. You up for two more hours? Remember, you can decline him. Or ask the guy to come back later tonight.”

Lindsay bit her lip, her cheeks flaming hot. “Yeah, I'm game. I'll charge him eleven hundred.” That will bring my daily net to twelve hundred and ten, right? “He paid five-fifty for the one hour we had before.” Holy cow, that’s a lot of money for one day of work! I'm nearing seventeen hundred for the week! If I only didn't have to pay the six-sixty-three back to Pamela and Colt. “I don't think I need you for negotiations, Pamela. He'll pay what I ask.”

“You,” Colt said to Pamela as he placed an arm around her shoulder and kissed her left temple, “have the next two hours off. I want you to take a shower and then come to my office.” He nuzzled his lips upon her neck and whispered, “You're so special. I can't believe how special you are.”

The warmth in Colt's voice struck a chord within Lindsay. I can tell that he loves her. He talks to her differently than he does any of the other girls in the house too. Was Lindsay becoming jealous?

His hand traversed Pamela’s spine. “You okay? Darius wasn't too demanding, was he? Your back okay?”

“I'm fine.”

“You sure?”

“I'm fine,” she insisted.

Colt kissed her cheek. “We're having a late lunch – just you and me.”

Pamela's features lit up. “Vegan Chinese like you promised earlier?”

Colt brushed a strand of hair away and cupped her face. “I'll run over and get takeout from Hong Kong Wok while you're in the shower. And buy you a cup of iced black coffee from Starbucks too. Sound good?”

“With almond milk, please. And yes!”

“And you,” Colt spoke to Lindsay in a firmer, more businesslike tone, “have the following four hours off once you finish your party. You're still new and I want you to rest because that'll be four hours of partying for you today. Don't want to overexert you.”

Rest is for the weak! Lindsay wanted to work and maximize her earnings with the short-range goal of purchasing a car to have during her week off. Tomorrow would be her one true day off of the week, and she’d have all the time in the world to rest.

“Your appointment is upcoming. In a perfect world, Ryker is done with you by six or six-thirty. Perhaps we can talk him into sampling another girl later on? If a lineup is called, you're exempt until ten o'clock. If any customers come in and ask for you by name, we'll say you're not available until ten. I want you to take it easy and relax.”

“Yes sir.” Although objecting inside, it was pointless to try to change Colt's mind. Why dig in her heels for a fight she had no chance of winning? Lindsay figured Colt was still upset because of the abrasive customer from the other night, plus all the drama with Aaliyah. I'm still not sure that Aaliyah and her shitstorm is done yet either. So, there was no reason to push her luck and risk making him angrier.

Besides, Lindsay feared Colt. She was scared to death of him. He'd never hurt her physically, Lindsay trusted, but he had that raw, authoritarian presence and stature, and it intimidated her like nothing ever had before.

The fear I have arouses me too.

I bet Colt is an absolute beast in the sack when he wants to be. Pamela is such a lucky girl to have a man like that whenever she wants. Like most girls her age, Lindsay’s wants, her desires, her basic thoughts, were in a constant state of flux. Things changed from one second to the next. If it were up to me, I'd be sucking that man’s dick nonstop. I want to choke on it!

Indeed, the pendulum was swinging.

The first party with Ryker was different, but fun, and Lindsay enjoyed role-playing as Brooklynn Phillips from Kansas.

The second time around? Not so much.

Ryker agreed to a $1,100 GFE for two hours, and though he wasn't disrespectful or too rough, Lindsay lost interest in revisiting the role again. The realization hit her about fifteen minutes in. What if I'm adding to Ryker's obsession for this gal? Lindsay glanced down and regarded herself in the Catholic schoolgirl outfit. What if he tries to do something to her because of me? He says Brooklynn is happily married and just gave birth in January.

Ryker slowed down and talked amid their second party as if he was savoring the feeling of Lindsay’s pussy on his cock. “Has anyone ever fucked you like this, Brooklynn? I’m sure you’ve gotten it doggy style a lot, haven’t you? A filthy slut like you?”

“Oh, God, yes … but …”

“But not as much as you’d like, am I right? Chris seems like a straitlaced prude.”

Lindsay buried her face in the mattress. “No sir … no, not near as much.”

“What I really mean, Brooks, does Chris even know what he’s doing when he fucks you? He’s surely not as skilled as I am in bed, right?” Ryker’s hands gripped Lindsay’s waist tighter and he began to thrust with more gusto. “You’re an insatiable little slut, Brooklynn, and you belong to me now. This part most of all.”

Lindsay had a case of the tremors and tried to pace herself as Ryker fucked her pussy hard, riding in and out until he came with a grunt of satisfaction ten minutes later.

Throughout the entire ordeal, Lindsay stayed in character – what Ryker paid her to do – and got him to orgasm at the end of their session too. It was an accomplishment, she thought, because he came twice earlier with her as well, and partied with Kenzie for an hour in between. I'm sure Kenzie emptied his balls too.

When it was over and they said their goodbyes in the lobby, Lindsay closed her eyes and drew a deep breath through her nose. Near the end, things got to be downright creepy. He went way overboard with his ongoing fantasy and it made Lindsay feel more uncomfortable.

He hugged me so much that I felt smothered, kept calling me Brooklynn, and said he’d leave his wife – and his unborn baby – for me.

Ryker wanted to schedule another appointment with Lindsay at ten o'clock in the morning. What happened to visiting the other brothels? Although she was permitted to accept a booking on her day off if a customer asked, Lindsay declined. She didn't want to see him again. I'd rather pay the thirty bucks for tomorrow's rent. To hell with this degenerate and the obsession he had for his best friend’s wife! I'll decline him in the future if need be too. I cannot contribute to his fantasies in good faith anymore.

Colt can go fuck himself, too, if he gets angry about it. I’m never seeing that man again.

Still, Lindsay was cordial in turning Ryker down, claiming it was her day off and she had an appointment at a beauty salon in Vegas.

I have more aches and pains than ever before, my pussy is in agony, and I have a splitting headache. Maybe Colt knows what he's talking about because, come to think of it, I could use a four-hour break. …

<> <> <> <> <>

Topic: A sweet & chirpy gal needs her manly hunk!
Private Message to: SammySlams
From: omgitskayleigh_HER
A sweet & chirpy gal needs her manly hunk!
Sent: July 21, 2018, 8:26pm PST

Sammy :) –

Thank you for responding to my message from the other night! I’m sorry I frightened you with it. I had a horrible day when I wrote you, but everything is better now. I've struck up a friendship with Pamela and Kenzie this week (Pamela is yummy) and made a LOT of money today alone.

I'm settling in here. Jim is the best and treats me so well.

Happiness is a personal choice and changing your perspective in a negative circumstance can be enlightening no matter how grim it seems. That is why I overcame the bad day I had. I've also learned when I focus on what I don't have, I catch myself, and start focusing on everything I do have instead.

I'm glad you feel drawn to me and showed such concern in your e-mail. You are a thoughtful man and I appreciate your kind words.

I've been sheltered my whole life but working at Happy Ending Ranch will make me comfortable and feel a lot freer. I'm the third of four girls and my parents have always been conservative. If they found out what I'm doing now, life as I know it would be over. :( I have no idea how I'm going to keep this secret from them as time moves on. One day, they WILL find out.

I know you talked about coming back to Happy Ending Ranch in September to party with me and having an overnight. What would you say if I came to Salt Lake City instead? I have my week off from work starting Monday, August the 6th and should have a car by then. You were great to me, Sammy, and we had so much fun. I don't want to wait until September! I'll drive to SLC and rent a hotel room for us with my own money.

No, I won't charge you for it. Please don't think that or get that idea (besides, I don't want to break the law). I genuinely want to see you again and have some fun. I think you'd like that, too, wouldn't you? We won't have any restrictions between us being outside the brothel, remember, and I'd love to give my anal cherry to you. :)

I remember you talking about that the other night and how you wanted to fuck my ass. You even said you'd go home and fantasize about it. :) You know I would have gladly given it up to you if the house allowed me to, right?

Don't tell Colt, Jim, or Pamela about this, okay? I'll be in big trouble and would lose my job if they knew I sent you this e-mail. I guess I'm taking a chance, but I like you, and you're worth the chance. Plus, I trust you! Fortunately, Pamela says no one at the ranch has master access to the e-mail system, so they'll never see this. Only the website company has access, and Pamela said they don't read our e-mails anyway. There's no reason for them to.

Again, I don't want a cent from you. I'm not lying. I want to spend a day or two with you in bed and for you to teach me how to use my body to pleasure others (especially YOU!)

To let you know I'm serious about this, my real name is Lindsay Anastacio, and I grew up in Citronelle, California. Kayleigh is my working name (and I hate it). My family is still in Citronelle today. You can look me up on the Internet and you'll find plenty of pictures. I know sharing real names and personal info with customers is the ultimate taboo, but you're more than a customer to me, Sammy. Yes, I seriously love you like I said, and know I can trust you with this information.

Please write back and tell me we can meet up in SLC when I'm on my break. Please! Let me know when you think you'll be available that week too. I can't wait to fuck you again.

Love, Lindsay (Kayleigh) 

*

After her fourth shower of the day and asking Francisco, the house chef, to prepare chicken tacos with Tostitos chips on the side, Lindsay was back in one of her favorite spots – the chick cave downstairs – and busy on the Internet. Hmm, these tacos are delicious. She'd spent an hour reading all the new messages on the board and added to select discussions. Darius left a quick review of the three-way he had with her and Pamela but promised a longer one once he returned home to Idaho tomorrow. As it was, the topic already had four responses.

Lindsay had six new private e-mails waiting as well and read them all. But the lone person she replied to was her first-ever client, Sammy. Hmmph, it took you long enough to write me back.

Despite all the fireworks with Pamela, Lindsay was still in love with Sammy. Sure, he was pushed to the background when things got intense with Pamela, but Lindsay started thinking about him again this morning. During her first shower, Lindsay leaned against the wall and fingered herself to climax amid the thick steam to the memories of being in the same bathtub with Sammy.

The latest whimsical fantasy Lindsay had since Sammy wrote her back was getting double-fucked by him and Pamela together. She had an orgasm fantasizing about it after the kind things he said in e-mail to her too. In fact, Lindsay now preferred Sammy over Colt. Perhaps the next time he was in town – September? – she could ask Sammy about purchasing a threesome with her and Pamela.

Yaass! That would blow my mind!

Lindsay didn’t know the specifics about Sammy’s financial situation, but Pamela told her he was a CEO and “filthy rich.” He claimed to have had sex with at least 1,000 prostitutes over the past thirty-nine years too. How much did that cost? If anyone, Sammy could afford an overnight threesome party like Charlie got with Pamela and Scarlett.

But Lindsay didn't want to wait to see Sammy until September. Yes, it was a major risk on her part to offer to meet a client outside of work. And though she had no intention of charging him for sex, if Colt found out, Lindsay feared she'd be fired on the spot.

She even gave Sammy her real name and hometown.

Was it smart to drive 330 miles to Salt Lake City and another 330 back? Lindsay had a license, yes, but her sole experience driving was puttering around Citronelle in her mom's old station wagon.

Sammy would never tattle on me, and besides, I don't need to tell anyone what I'm doing on my week off anyway. Pamela and Colt had that week off, too, and Lindsay figured they’d go home to Baltimore. Poor Pamela misses her family and I know she'll want to visit them.

I need to overcome whatever fear I have of traveling through the wide-open desert and going to a city I've never been to before. Isn't this what I wanted? Lindsay wanted to get the heck out of Citronelle and go on some adventures. She’d receive one week off every month and, from the looks of things, would have plenty of money to do so. Salt Lake City may not be the most glamorous place, but Sammy is there, and I want to see him again. I want many things from him, but most of all, I'd like for him to fuck me in the ass. He can even do it bareback!

If any man deserves my anal cherry, it's Sammy.

Lindsay considered driving to Las Vegas and hanging out during her week off, but the thought proved way too intimidating. I can't go to Vegas – alone – as an eighteen-year-old girl. I'll probably get suckered into the wrong crowd and may find myself in trouble. It’s a wonder I didn’t get into trouble the one night I spent there earlier in the week. Lindsay thought it would be best to save a big city trip like that and go with someone like Pamela, or Jim and/or Kenzie. They would keep me safe.

How about Sammy? I'd love to go with him too.

It wasn't uncommon for a young turnout like Lindsay – with such limited sexual experience – to fall in love with her first client. Sammy was older and vastly experienced in how to please a woman. He sure ain't some blowhard from Kansas who obsesses over his best friend's wife when he's also married himself. Sammy ignited feelings of desire within Lindsay that no one ever had.

But these feelings often passed for the typical turnout after a couple of days. Other clients would purchase parties – as they had with Lindsay – and thoughts of the courtesan’s first client would simmer into a warm, treasured memory.

Not for this girl, though.

Lindsay had a terrible time with her second client (Eric) and grew to resent her third earlier today (Ryker). She enjoyed being with Darius, sure, but he didn't compare with Sammy in the slightest. Perhaps that was because Sammy came the closest to fulfilling her ultimate fantasy.

Having a Daddy Dom.

Lindsay envisioned Sammy as a strict (but fair) nurturer who offered warmth, strength, a kind heart, caregiving, guidance, and heavy-handed discipline when needed. Lindsay, on the other hand, was full of laughter, happiness, joy, affection beyond belief, unconditional love, and had a bratty, rebellious side that needed to be put in check.

We are perfect for each other! To her, such constant give-and-take between those qualities in a relationship would be ideal.

Please write me back, Sammy, and tell me you'd like to meet in Salt Lake City too. I'll do anything you ask me to in bed. 

<> <> <> <> <>

“So, umm, I still don't know how this works.”

Here we go again. This was a dance Pamela had done countless times over the past twelve years. A dance she could perform with her eyes closed – even while sleeping.

Offering herself to a random stranger who paid money to have sex with her.

“It's all right, baby.” Pamela leaned over and, though not in the best of spirits – not after the taxing day she had – kissed the man's scruffy neck. “Follow my lead, okay?”

You know what? I'm tired, like Colt says. There were far better ways for Pamela to spend her Saturday nights than this. Maybe I should think about stepping away like Colt keeps asking me to. Is he right? Do we really need the extra money at this point?

Goodness gracious, this is the fifth customer I've been with today. Why do I keep doing this to myself? Saturdays are freaking insane around this place.

“Why don't I show you the little lingerie outfit we discussed?” Wearing her white minidress with the strategically placed rip designs scattered throughout, Pamela put a knee between the man's legs and nudged his crotch as he sat on the bed. A nibble here, a kiss there, a slick of the tongue everywhere, Pamela was in complete control and would guide this party from beginning to end. “Isn't that what you want?”

A bead of sweat trickled down her client’s forehead. “Right, right.”

“For me to put on some sexy little things?” Pamela's tone was laced with eroticism as she tucked her hair behind her ear. “Give you a little fashion show? A striptease?” She reached underneath his bathrobe and found a raging erection.

Her sweetness factor off the charts, Pamela moved her lips close to his and purred. “A lap dance? Hmm? Sound good, baby? That what you want?” Their breaths mingled.

The customer couldn't help but to reach out and touch her cheek. Pamela's brown eyes shimmered with adoration and it did nothing but ramp his desire up to a higher level. “Real good.” He was breathing in deep, ragged gasps. “And yes, yes!”

Pamela giggled and flicked her tongue across the man's open, willing mouth. I could do this in my sleep, for sure. 

*

A forty-something investment banker, Gabriel Tucker walked into Happy Ending Ranch after midnight and struck up a conversation with Colt. Gabriel had been married for twenty-two years and lived a mundane, dull existence with his wife and three children back in Arizona. He’d been one hundred percent faithful to Jessica – once his high school sweetheart in what seemed like eons ago – since the day they met. Yet, Gabriel was bored with how things had become and admitted to Colt he'd been contemplating the idea of visiting a brothel for the past three or four years.

Tonight was his first time actually being at one.

Not only was it a monumental step for him – something out of his comfort zone – but also a difficult one. “On second thought, I don't know if I should be here or not.”

Like Jim, Colt's customer service skills were exemplary, and he put the man at ease. Gabriel was stricken with guilt because he'd lied to his wife about having to go to Vegas on a business trip.

“We don't judge anyone here, my friend. We don't discriminate or look down on you if you're a married man and your wife is in the dark back home. We're discreet, nonjudgmental, and our sole focus is that you leave here a happy and satisfied customer.”

After some further discussion of what he wanted, Gabriel summarized, “I'd like someone who is a decent conversationalist. Someone who's willing to listen to me vent and talk about the problems I have with my wife. Maybe give some advice? Because down-deep, I'd like for things to be better between Jessica and me. I've always read that in-house brothel prostitutes can be as much psychiatrists as they are sexual providers.”

Prostitutes? Colt hoped Gabriel didn’t call a lady that to her face. It's a surefire way to piss 'em off. But otherwise, he was correct. Most of them are good listeners and, though it may not be the truth or how they honestly think, they'll tell you what you want to hear in the end.

“Pamela, Nicolette, or Aaliyah would be your best bet.” Colt would’ve also mentioned Scarlett and Kenzie as viable choices, but they were with other customers at the moment. “All three are mature, wise beyond their years, excellent companions and listeners, and give great advice.” Lindsay was available now, too, but she was way too immature for what this guy wanted. I can't recommend her. “We can review their pictures and profiles on the monitor beside me or call each of them, one at a time, out to the bar to talk to you. Or do a mini lineup of sorts. Whatever you want.”

“Let me see the pictures first.”

It would've been easy for Colt to single Pamela out and suggest her as the best choice for Gabriel, but selfish and unfair to the other ladies too. If the trick chose Pamela, she and her husband would pocket the entire fee together. $600 for a one-hour party? $700? Maybe more?

If Gabriel selected anyone else, Colt and Pamela (as the house) would only receive half of the payment.

Suggesting Pamela (and Pamela alone) would be unethical and, if word got out, cause a mutiny. Colt would only mention his wife's name if a customer was looking for something she specialized in, but also do the same for any of the others who were a good fit as well. He prided himself on being unbiased. Colt would never direct clients toward Pamela unless it was justified. His business wouldn't have survived this long, he thought, otherwise.

Gabriel took his time leafing through the digital photographs with the remote control, asking questions about each courtesan. Finally, he decided. “Nicolette looks too much like my wife – granted, a younger, much sexier version of Jessica – and I don't like … exotic women like Aaliyah. So, I'd like to meet Pamela and see if I can hit it off with her.” A lustful grin slid into place. “Besides, I've always wondered what it would be like to have sex with a gorgeous, hot blonde like that.”

Colt ground his teeth. I wish Pamela would just fucking retire. These guys look at her and talk about her like she's nothing more than a piece of meat and I'm getting tired of this shit. She's my wife!

Regardless, he didn’t show those emotions. “Choosing Pamela is a wise move, my friend. A very wise move.” Colt gave him a congratulatory pat on the shoulder. “Stay here. I’ll go back and ask her to come out and meet you.” 

*

Several moments further into their hour-and-a-half session, Gabriel, desperate for attention and pleasure, tilted his chin up and tongued Pamela's mouth. His anxiety melted against those divine lips as Pamela's arms circled his neck. “Oh, Pamela. Oh my.” Her body, even her mere presence, conjured up notions of a warm fire on the coldest night. “This is so much more exciting than being with my wife. A million times more exciting!”

Pamela didn't say a word. She toyed with Gabriel and teased his neck with a series of butterfly kisses until he was whimpering like a child. His body shifted and arched under her expert care. The thirty-year-old slipped her right arm beneath one side of his bathrobe and peeled it from his torso. He's overweight, but I've never cared what my clients look like.

With Pamela straddling his lap and grinding her front against his, Gabriel gripped her ass with both hands and squeezed hard. He kissed her with great hunger and his urges were peaking at an all-time high.

Those kisses were never-ending, her mouth was sumptuously delicious, and Gabriel thought he'd died and gone to Heaven. He loved his wife and would do anything for her, but never wanted this evening with Pamela to end. She was so fine, so breathtaking, and unlike any woman he'd ever experienced. Pamela was accommodating and responded favorably to every word and every little motion he'd given her tonight.

A dream girl, if there ever was one.

Pamela broke the series of kisses and Gabriel’s eyes became transfixed on her breasts as they heaved up and down with every breath. She had transitioned from her minidress to a silky white nightie and a matching G-string but kept her platform heels on.

“You're so fucking hot.”

Is he talking to my breasts?

“God Almighty, you are fantastic.”

“You want to play with them, baby?” Pamela's right hand was stuffed between their pressed bodies and she was giving him a fast-paced handjob. “You want to help me out of this little lingerie piece and play with my titties for a while? Oh, I'd like that, baby.”

“I want you to leave the nightie on. I like seeing you in it. So sexy. Yeah. So, so sexy.” Fire blazed in Gabriel's eyes as he buried his face between Pamela's breasts. He pulled a bit of the lace to the side and experimented on a nipple, tweaking and rolling it between his teeth.

Pamela tossed her head back and moaned. She soon stepped away before it became too much – those nipples were quite sensitive.

“You want to play with my titties some more?”

“What do you think?” Exasperated, Gabriel tried to return to them.

But Pamela ducked away. “Sit back and relax, baby. We have plenty of time. We talked about those few months I spent as a stripper when I was younger, remember? Out at the bar?” She smirked and ratcheted up the charm. “You said you thought it was hot that I was attending Catholic school in the day and dancing on a pole at night.” Pamela hesitated long enough for those words to sink in. I grew up in a Catholic family and went to Catholic school, but don't consider myself Catholic at all. “I'd like to give you that lap dance you were hoping for.” Gabriel was drowning in a tidepool of desire as Pamela ended, “How about we let my breasts touch you instead?”

Spellbound, he nodded and sat straight up on the edge of the bed like Pamela requested. Knowing he preferred her to keep the nightie on (and the G-string, too), she lowered the lace in front, exposing her breasts, and climbed atop the bed next to him. Pamela leaned in and dragged her breasts along the expanse of Gabriel's arm. Unrestrained need cascaded through him as he shivered, goosebumps popping up along his skin.

He closed his eyes and sighed as Pamela continued to tease. Soon, she was back in his lap and squished her breasts to Gabriel's chest for a split second, then moved up and presented them to his face. Enjoying such soft skin, his gaze was full of wanderlust. He tried to take a nipple into his mouth, but Pamela was quick to pull back.

Gabriel attempted to grab both breasts, but Pamela put an end to that as well. She pinned each of his wrists at his stomach and shook her head with a sly, wicked grin. Yet, those devastating brown eyes cherished him like nothing else ever had. He drank in the image before him, especially those breasts. Butterflies fluttered in his stomach and he swallowed hard.

“Haven't you ever been to a strip club before, baby? Don't you know the rules? No touching!” Gabriel's eyebrows skyrocketed as Pamela gave him a deep, soulful kiss. “Play along with me, okay?”

“For a bit,” he relented. God, why couldn’t every woman be like this? The world would be a better place.

Pamela again slid her breasts along Gabriel's face. He had a five o'clock shadow and his scruff was like bristly pricks upon her immaculate, sun-bronzed skin. She tried to avoid his mouth, but Gabriel was ready this time. He sucked the nipple in and feasted. Ticklish, Pamela giggled, but soon emitted a content hum of arousal. I like him sucking my titties. He's not all teeth like most guys are.

“You're so sexy.” Gabriel's words were a mumble as his heart hammered in his chest like a mallet hitting a gong. “Dear God, you are everything I've ever wanted in a woman.” 

*

“Well, to be honest, this is my first time doing something like this.”

“Oh, really?” Speaking of the so-called dance, young Lindsay was proving to be a quick learner (and a valuable asset to the house) as she relaxed out front with another potential client.

“I've done lots of research, but I'm still not sure what goes on in a place like this.”

Lindsay nodded. “Well, we can do whatever you want. I'm open-minded, game for anything.” As always, Lindsay was full of sunshine and good vibes as she was looking to seduce yet another trick into her bed.

She'd been with two already today – Ryker and Darius – and partied for four hours. Not to mention, of course, the spectacular overnight she'd spent with Pamela. Though it was well past one o'clock in the morning and her body still ached from the overburden of hot, maniacal fucking, Lindsay was raring to go and wanted one more job before calling it a night.

Money, money, money! Give me money!

“You know, Tony, I'm here for you. So, if you want anything specific, I mean, I have plenty of lingerie and a few fetish outfits if you're into that.”

“Wow, I am. What a hot idea.” An older gentleman from southern Utah, Tony was overcome with excitement as Colt pretended to act busy behind the bar. “Well, there is something a little specific.”

“Yeah?”

“Secretary? It's always been a fantasy of mine.” The man went silent for a moment and smiled. “So, I own my company. I buy and sell computer chips.”

“Oh wow,” Lindsay beamed.

He reached across the counter and touched her hand. “I moved into a new office two months ago and have all these women, you know, who work for me now, and they're wearing secretary-like outfits. It's mad temptation but, you know, I can't go there.” Lindsay laughed and propped her chin up with an open hand as Tony added, “They're my employees, after all.”

“Don't want a sexual harassment lawsuit, huh?”

“It's been a fantasy of mine. I don't know what to say about it, but it's my thing right now. These women get me all hot and bothered.”

She nodded. “A tight skirt, a button-down shirt?”

“You spelled the whole thing out!”

Lindsay chuckled again.

Tony produced a shopping bag. “I purchased a secretarial outfit to bring to the brothel with me. I see no reason why it wouldn't fit you. So, if you'd be interested in pretending that you're my secretary, I'd like for you to try it on first to be sure, and we can go from there. How does that sound, sweetheart?”

Lindsay's smile was golden. “I’d love to try it on and see if you like me in it.” After that, they’d go back to her room and talk about getting down and dirty. I don't need any help negotiating. You're a good-looking, older man, and I bet you'd love me sucking your dick. And you know what? I'd love sucking it, too, for the right price. “How about I change, and you wait for me out here?”

Colt grinned at the man. “I know I'm not Kayleigh, but hey, I'll keep you company until she comes back.” 

*

“Oooooh. Oh, my. Feels like there's a nice, big surprise for me, huh?” Meanwhile, Pamela again straddled Gabriel's lap and rubbed her ass across his throbbing dick. Behind her, Gabriel's eyes were glossy as he held on to either side of Pamela's hips and was transported to another dimension full of bright colors, unique sensations, and never-ending passion. His body was alive like never before and ready to burst as Pamela gave him the experience of a lifetime.

“Oh my God.” Gabriel's hands trailed upward and cupped Pamela's breasts as he nestled his face between her shoulder blades and kissed haphazardly. She glanced back and covered his lips in yet another intoxicating exchange. He thrust his tongue inside, exploring every crevice.

“Would you like a blowjob, baby?”

“Fuck, yes!”

With an obliging smile, Pamela ground her ass across his lap for a few more seconds, stood and whirled around, and dropped to her knees. Hot sweat trickled down Gabriel's face and he gulped his throat as Pamela produced a condom and fit it on the tip of his shaft. She leaned over and closed her lips on it, lunged forward and secured it into place, and went to work.

“I don't think you're ever going to forget me after tonight.” Pamela snickered as she swept her thick, long braid of blonde curls over her opposite shoulder. She snagged the base of Gabriel's cock with her thumb and two fingers and made blatant noises while slipping its head between her lips. Again, those cinnamon-brown eyes flashed upward and took Gabriel's breath away.

“Oh, wow. Oh my God.”

Pamela swallowed half his girth with ease and continued to maintain eye contact. She bobbed her head up and down, albeit slowly, and Gabriel reached out with both hands and ran them through her hair. Soon, she inhaled the full length and gagged on it.

“Oh my God! Oh, fuck. Oh, Pamela. That feels so good.”

“Hmm, you’re so happy. I'm happy you're happy!” Pamela pulled back and stroked him next to her face as she projected a loving smile. “You know I'd do anything for you, right?” She extended her tongue and dabbed at the underside. “Whatever you want, baby.” She opened and closed her mouth over him once again.

“Keep doing that.” Still seated on the bed, Gabriel was squirming as he watched Pamela with an aura of sheer ecstasy plastered across his face. She still had her lingerie outfit on but had since lost her platform shoes.

“Oh my. Go no hands, honey. Yeah, like that. Put your hands behind your back so I can just feel your mouth. Your sweet, sweet, little mouth.” Gabriel had a grip on Pamela's hair and forced her to bob faster on his arousal. “Ohhhhh my God. Oh, fuck. My wife hasn't sucked dick at all in over ten years!”

Knowing she had him close to the brink of orgasm, Pamela intensified her efforts, but still held back at the same time. She preferred the climax to happen during intercourse unless he wanted something different. Pamela's hand returned to Gabriel's shaft and frigged away as her mouth continued to wield its magic. Soon, her head was bouncing about at a frantic speed.

“Oh yeah, wow. Oh, Pamela. You're an angel! Take your hand away again, baby. Yeah, yeah, no hands. Oh my God. Fuck, my balls feel so full. So full, so full! Baby, please, stick your tongue out and lick my balls. Yeah, lick them just like that. Oh, so fucking good. I … I … oh my God. Fuck.”

Pamela withdrew her face and giggled. “You’re not as apprehensive about being with me like were you when we first started talking.”

“Oh no! Not at all! Yeah, yeah, I like this.”

“You have a beautiful dick, baby.” Her eyes fluttered shut as she suckled its head. “You're really thick – a lot thicker than what I'm used to seeing. And it tastes so good.” Pamela swallowed him whole and used her supercharged vacuum technique at the well of her throat.

A moment later, she again pulled away and asked in a polite, tender voice, “Would you like to have sex with me? Put your dick in me?”

“God, yes! Yes, yes, yes, a million times yes!” 

*

Three doors down the hall, Scarlett was entertaining a client old enough to be her grandfather.

“Oh, shit,” she grunted, bent over the side of the bed as the man stood and thumped her from behind. Her face flush on the mattress and ass perched high in the air, Scarlett glared back at him with one open eye. “Oh! Oh my God. Oh, shit! Fuck, so good.” She still had her white stockings and garter belt on, along with four-inch heels – per his request – but was otherwise nude. “Oh, your dick's so fuckin' hard! Make me your slut!”

Unlike Pamela, everything Scarlett said and did with the typical client was an act. Sure, Pamela acted as well to an extent, but Scarlett took things to a whole new level. She wasn't genuine at all – indifferent toward her customers and whatever problems they faced in life – and viewed them as a payday, and nothing more. Scarlett didn't care what any client said or did in her presence as long as they compensated her for her time.

Truth is, Scarlett could have filed her nails and not made a single, solitary sound as this broken down, seventy-three-year-old retiree did his best to pump his dick into her. Old man doesn't have a clue what the hell he's doing. Yet, Scarlett had a role to play – a character to act out – and hoped her reactions, believable and well-rehearsed as they were, would lead to either him purchasing more time tonight or coming back in the future for repeat encounters.

Or, at the very least, writing a positive review on the website's message board and convincing other customers to purchase services from her.

“Oh yeah. Oh yeah. In and out, baby. In and out.” Scarlett could win an Academy Award for this performance as she coaxed the man – John was his name – toward a proper finish. “Oh yes, yes, yes. Oh shit! Fuck me harder, baby. Oh, your dick feels so good! Hmm, you're an animal, aren't you?”

John moaned and roared out his approval but wasn't a talker during sex. So, Scarlett took it upon herself to handle most of the dialogue.

“Oh, yes! Yes! Use my pussy. It's your fucking pussy. Yeah, oh, yes, baby. Feels so good! Harder! Fuck me harder! Ohhhhh! Oh, shit! Oh, fuck. Hmmmmm, you got me dripping, lover. I'm gonna come soon! Are you? Are you? Yeah, you're gonna make me come!”

Outside Scarlett's door, Lindsay – wearing a knee-length black miniskirt, stockings, heels, and a white blouse with a purple blazer over top of it – held hands with her latest client and guided him from the booking office toward the washroom she shared with Pamela.

“Hurry and take your shower, Tony.” The trucker's shower down the hall was in use, so Lindsay was forced to let the client use this one.

Looking like a secretary, she leaned up and graced his lips with an immersive kiss. “I'll be out here when you're done.” I can’t believe this guy agreed to eight hundred dollars for one hour! Lindsay kissed him again. “I’m so looking forward to you playing with my body and making me your slut secretary.”

“So am I, honey. So am I. …”

At the bar, Colt was engaged in conversation with Russell Korby from Minnesota, who'd recently finished an hour-long massage party that included a happy ending (referred to as an FBSM+ in industry speak) courtesy of Kenzie. Russell was more than satisfied and couldn't stop complimenting Kenzie's virtues.

Any minute now, Kenzie would return after reapplying her makeup and fluffing up her hair and spend more time socializing with Russell. Colt encouraged all the ladies to embrace conversation both before and after parties with every customer.

That – and the lower prices – is what sets us apart from the bigger brothels closer to Vegas. We want our customers to have an authentic, incomparable experience that lasts a lifetime for them.

Russell was a sports fanatic and a self-proclaimed superfan of the Minnesota Twins. Colt recalled Game 7 of the 1991 World Series between the Twins and Atlanta Braves as it was, hands-down, the best baseball game he'd ever witnessed. No, check that – best sporting event, period.

That game will put Jack Morris in the Hall of Fame one day. What a pitching performance. Nothing will ever top it. They spoke about those memories at length. It delighted Russell that Colt was so knowledgeable about the last time his hometown team won a championship.

Colt also had earbuds in place and was listening to his wife getting boned down the hall. Ninety percent of his focus was on Pamela and what Gabriel was doing to her, but Russell would never guess that. Not in a million years. A multitasker himself when tending bar, Colt spoke baseball and World Series moments with Russell like he was the most important man in the world until Kenzie reappeared and snagged his undivided attention. As usual, Colt then faded into the background.

Indeed, the brothel was thriving with business tonight. It usually did on Saturdays. Ideally, the ladies would sleep in extra in the morning. 

*

“Oh, that feels so good!” Gabriel said as he was splayed out across the lounge chair with Pamela, minus her G-string but still wearing her white nightie, straddling his lap and bouncing atop his cock. She did most of the work herself, undulating her hips, as Gabriel reclined and squeezed her ass and breasts. The reckless pace put a lot of stress on Pamela's lower spine, causing extreme irritation and stiffness, but she bit the bullet and kept going.

Gabriel smothered Pamela with both arms and reeled her mouth to his for a scorching kiss. Their lips broke apart, but they maintained eye contact as Pamela continued to skewer her pussy on him. She wasn't the vocal type during intercourse and had no desire to exaggerate her reactions like Scarlett, but kept her mouth open and breathed in short, rapid bursts. Gabriel was nearing the point of no return and latched on to her mouth for another kiss. Her hips slapped his pelvis and lewd, wanton noises filled the bedroom and echoed off its walls.

With several mirrors located all throughout, Pamela watched herself bounce shamelessly up and down on a man she met ninety minutes ago and may never see again after tonight. My back feels like it’s about to break! Colt was listening in and the thought tugged at her soul.

Why. Can't. I. Stop? Step away? Despite what he claimed, Colt hated it when she was with a customer. I know he does.

Pamela's body found no pleasure in being with Gabriel anymore, only torture. She closed her eyes, and it took everything she had to suppress a sob. I wish Colt was here because I need one of his hugs so bad right now. A pair of tears streamed from one of her eyes.

Pamela became lost in her own sadness but snapped back to reality once Gabriel's climax erupted and cum squirted into the condom. Just like that, Pamela dislodged and knelt at his side as Gabriel, moaning uncontrollably, soon sank right into the recliner in utter satisfaction. She ripped the condom off and jacked his sticky, gooey cock, drawing one more small, timid ejaculation before deciding he was through.

“Be right back.” Gabriel didn't even notice as Pamela kissed him on the forehead and went to the small kitchenette in the bedroom. She disposed of the condom and wiped herself clean with some paper towels. A thorough handwashing, a splash of water to the face, and another wipe-down later, Pamela gave her hair a quick brushing and returned to her client with a bright, sunny smile, and slid right back into his lap.

Oh, no. I still have twenty minutes left with this guy. 

*

“Oh my God, Kayleigh … that feels so good.”

“I could do this all night, you know.”

“I’d definitely have no complaints if you did.”

She laughed. “I know you wouldn’t.”

The lovely wet sounds of a professional blowjob could be heard as Lindsay, crouched on her knees in the adjacent bedroom, tended to her paying customer and offered him the pleasure he was entitled to. Everything was winding down into a kind of wicked rightness that added an exclamation point to all the degradation, as exciting as it had been, that Lindsay experienced throughout the day.

Though their coupling began between boss and secretary, that role-play was a distant memory by now. “Yes! Yes! Take me!” Lindsay was eager to comply when Tony grabbed her silky blouse moments ago, popping every button right down the front and sending them scattering across the floor. She couldn’t get her arms out of the sleeves and back around him fast enough.

He ruined the clasps on her bra – not bothering to undo them – but simply yanking the hooks apart. The fragile wires bent. Seams broke. Fabric ripped.

Though the bra was one of her favorites, Lindsay didn’t care, not after Tony snatched it from her torso and violently spun her around. She grabbed at the wall, struggling to brace herself, as he yanked the skirt off her hips and down her thighs, jerking and shoving to get it out of the way. Lindsay put her head down and thrust her ass back on pure instinct, all but sobbing pure need as Tony dropped to bent knee and lashed at not only her pussy, but her tight, puckered rectum as well. The man’s tongue, rough and edgy, plundered her, consumed and conquered, and now it was time for Lindsay to return the favor.

“God, Kayleigh. You look so … so … you look so … unbelievably sexy on your knees like that.”

The knowledge that she was kneeling on the same cushion from when Ryker fucked her face this morning, and then later, while stuffed with Darius’s cock, filled Lindsay’s mind. Her pussy clenched, and then, to her delight, Tony’s hands descended onto her head, through her hair, as he helplessly trembled and made little thrusts into her mouth. She gazed up into his eyes, alert and attentive, the friction of her warm, slick mouth thrilling him.

The need to be gentle came upon Tony, not wanting to test the limits of her gag reflex, but also aware that his true desire was to be rough. He inserted his cock until half of it was sheathed inside of Lindsay’s snug, little mouth, and groaned with mad desire.

The anticipation leading up to this moment was intense, all those weeks of planning and fantasizing, but it was nothing compared to the reality of actually being inside her in this unholy way. After twenty-six years of the same old thing, time after time again with his wife, and never anything new or exciting, Tony had finally found a girl dirty enough to satiate his needs.

He drove further, trying to reach the back of Lindsay’s throat despite himself. She did gag, but Tony refused to let up for several seconds because his nature as a man shackled by the chains of a mundane marriage, yet finally free – if just temporarily – seemed unable to allow it.

“Yeah, that’s good, baby. So fuckin’ good. Yeah, let me fuck that face. You look so innocent. Holy shit.”

Lindsay found servicing Tony’s dick to be enjoyable, so hard, so huge, and thought it held an authority over a nymphomaniac like her. She melted at the thought, envisioning herself levitating above them, not looking down but somehow still a part of the action: on her knees, where a prostitute with ripped nylons and runny mascara like Lindsay belonged; her eager, sucking mouth, bobbing back and forth to satisfy the cock that filled it, hands down at her sides; even Tony, the customer, giving commands on how she should please him, his gaze locked on her.

“Kiss my balls now, Kayleigh.” He withdrew his cock with his left hand, held it up and away, and watched Lindsay lean in with those tender eyes and nuzzle a loaded, aching testicle. Tony panted in rapid, shallow gasps, nearly lost his footing again and, in that moment, would’ve shilled out every penny from his 401k just to have Lindsay ready and available to do that on command whenever he desired from now on.

Overcome with stimulation, fascination, and terrible shame, Lindsay thrust a hand downward, between her thighs so she could rub her aching pussy. Faster and faster, she rubbed, all the way down and back, sneaking a finger between the folds Ryker and Darius had pounded so sternly earlier today. This guy’s turn was next.

“You’re a natural with a dick in your mouth, sweetheart. I can tell you’re enjoying yourself and am happy you’re so eager to please me.”

“Thank you, sir, and yes, yes, oh yes, I’m very eager. I want to please you.” Her head bent and bottom out, Lindsay spoke in a hushed whisper. “I won’t stop sucking until you tell me to either.”

“Oh, Kayleigh, you’re so nice. You’re such a good girl, such a good lover, but I want to fuck you now.” Tony loved the little gasp that escaped her lips, as well as the hint of humiliation across her face as she moved back and stared up at him expectantly. “Stand up and bend over, put your hands on the end of the bed, and arch your back.”

After Lindsay switched to a fresh condom, Tony inspected her, arranged just as he’d specified, for a long time, her head bowed and ass high. He frigged his dick, imagining having Lindsay in his service like this forever. With his opposite hand, he slowly trailed his knuckles over the taut, upturned skin of her backside. “Fuck, Kayleigh. Hold that position. Yeah, perfect. Just like that. So fucking hot.” After several seconds, Tony stepped forward and put his cock where it belonged.

Lindsay gave a soft, joyful cry at the feeling of invasion from behind, and then, as it pushed in, the lovely, feminine whimper that Tony had already grown to admire as well. She was so wet that Tony slipped in more easily than he thought possible. Within seconds, he put his hands on her hips and thrust with abandon.

Lindsay stumbled, her thighs rigid, a deafening cry erupting from within, but Tony yanked her back to him with a swift pull of the hair. He thrust again, the slap of his hips juddering her, back and forth, in and out. Lindsay’s entire being was engulfed. “Owwwww, fuck. Oh, it’s so big!” Her face burned; hell, her whole body burned. “Yes, yes, yes, yes; I love big dick!” Her hips bucked and rolled almost to the point where Tony didn’t have to thrust at all. He could let Lindsay do all the work, impale herself over and over until she didn’t have any energy left.

Tears of arousal and disgrace and appreciation and the desperate, throbbing need to satisfy her john – I must satisfy him – consumed Lindsay as tiny orgasmic sparks zinged from her clitoris to her sex to her womb and every deep place as Tony took her, owned her so completely, that every thought, every fiber of her being was fixated on the unbelievable ecstasy of his grip on her hair, his arm around her waist, and the maddening friction of his cock moving inside her.

I love being a bad girl. I love walking into a room and seeing all the hungry men who can’t take their eyes off me. I love talking with customers at the bar and later feeling their hands once they give me their money because they can’t resist me. I love having a man on top of me, kissed until I’m breathless, and then being fucked into mental oblivion, and mmm … oh, God, don’t stop, Tony, right there … oh, that feels so fucking good. 

<> <> <> <> <>

“We have to do this again. I will be back.”

Sometime later, in the bar, Pamela nodded as she slid both arms around Gabriel's neck and offered him yet another affectionate embrace. In the background, Colt's eyes narrowed – for a split second – as Gabriel pulled back and said, “This was the best night of my life. Thank you, Pamela. Thank you so much.”

“No, thank you. It was so awesome meeting you and spending time with you. I had so much fun.“ Their ninety-minute party had since concluded, so it was time to bid each other farewell. Pamela smiled and placed a hand on Gabriel’s chest. “I think you should try those things we talked about with your wife, baby. The suggestions I made could help rekindle the magic you once had with her.”

“Couldn't hurt, right?” Not only was Gabriel's satisfaction evident, but so was his relief. He'd lived out several fantasies tonight with the hottest and most alluring woman he had ever stumbled across. Pamela was worth every penny of the $1,000 he paid in cash to be with her.

Unable to resist, he gave her another hug. “Trust me, I'll try. Thank you again.” Gabriel's hands began at the middle of her back and his fingertips glided downward and settled at her waistline.

Colt’s eyes narrowed and his fists vibrated as he took a menacing, yet unseen, step closer. One more inch and I'll break those fingers.

Pamela’s hands tightened around Gabriel’s waist. “Remember, make an account on the website and keep in touch with me. I check my e-mail five, ten times a day. Let me know when you'd like to see me again, okay? And let me know how things are going with Jessica. I hope everything works out for you and her.”

“I will. I promise. With any luck, I can sneak back here before Christmastime. I have to see you again.” Gabriel motioned toward the exit with his head. “Will you walk me to the door?”

Pamela glanced over at Colt. “Can I?”

Her conflicted husband forced a grin and nodded.

They again hugged at the door as Colt came out from behind the bar and kept a watchful eye on them.

“I'm so glad I met you.” Gabriel kissed Pamela's cheek and took one final whiff of her hair and perfume.

She ain't your wife, asshole! She's mine. Stop fawning over her!

When Gabriel let go, Pamela's smile was overflowing with kindness. “Have a great night, baby, and a safe trip home in the morning. Be careful! I'll miss you.”

Once Gabriel stepped outside and Pamela locked the door behind him, she thumped her forehead upon the frame and let out a long, tortured sigh. Physical and mental anguish gripped her body all at once and wouldn't let go. Pamela's shoulders slumped and, suddenly, she found it necessary to lean against the door and use it for support to keep from falling over. Pain shot from her back through all her extremities and bounced about in her toes. It felt like someone was slamming an ice pick into her repeatedly. Even her teeth hurt.

After entertaining five customers over eight hours today, and the marathon she had with Lindsay overnight, Pamela was exhausted. No longer needing a false façade since her trick was gone, she clutched her stomach and vomited in her mouth.

“Hey, hey, hey, I've got you, Lady Pamela. You're safe; the night's over.” Colt's words were warm and protective as he swaddled Pamela from behind, his arms forming a deep, loving cocoon. “There, there … I got you. You're okay. You're with me now. Relax.” She was shivering.

Colt knew what Pamela was going through because it wasn't anything he hadn't seen in the past after a hectic day at the so-called office. Yet again, she'd overexerted herself to perform her job to the best of her ability and please her customers. Pamela was genuine – too genuine – and one of these days, Colt feared she would go too far and permanently injure herself.

No one in the house works any harder.

“Want me to draw you a bubble bath mixed with your CBD Epsom salt?” His hands ran up and down her spine, slow and tender. “Is it your back? Your back hurt? Do you want a Zevia from the cooler?” The forty-four-year-old slipped a blanket around her shoulders. “How about I make you a Nespresso?”

Pamela's insides swirled at Colt's gentle nature – he was so considerate in situations like this – but she shook her head, turned around, and offered him a weak, listless sob. “I love you, wookie bear, but no, th-thank you. I … I'm going to … bed. My back hurts, and I'm tired. So tired. …”

She moved past him on spaghetti legs and began a slow, agonizing walk toward her bedroom.

How about a massage, then? Let me help take …

Full of concern, Colt's thoughts trailed off and he went silent as he watched her sludge away. No, no, no! Their shared livelihood and its many cruelties had just slapped him upside the face.

Colt desperately wanted to swoop Pamela into his arms and carry her off to bed. Cuddle and love on her with a shoulder, neck, and back massage until she fell into a deep slumber. Take away all her discomfort and make it his own.

But I can't. Colt couldn’t leave the bar unattended until Tony was gone. I have to listen in to make sure Kayleigh is safe and treated correctly. Colt glanced at his cell phone. Fuck! It's two-forty-five and she still has twenty-five minutes left with him. They're going to want to talk afterward and it may be an hour or longer before Kayleigh can get him to leave. The house was scheduled to close in fifteen minutes!

“Pamela, baby, I love you,” he called out as she vanished behind the curtain. “Feel better, okay? I'll be in to check on you as soon as I can.”

All he heard was a little whimper in response.

Something snapped within his psyche.

Colt filled with a violent, uncharacteristic madness that consumed him and his fists clenched tight. I hate this fucking place!

An instant later, his steely, professional will all but splintered into a million pieces, Colt went rushing after Pamela, desperate to do anything to ease her pain. …

(End of Chapter Ten)