Everyone Has A Price.
I want to welcome all those who are reading this story. My name is Anna and I am currently nineteen years old. I am a journalism student, which is probably why I decided to capture the events that happened to me a year ago in a text. I decided to publish it on a site where such stories will find a reader.
It happened, as I have already mentioned, last year when I was almost a senior in high school. It was not easy for me to study, and exams were hanging over me like a terrible storm cloud, capable of striking with lightning all those who by their stupidity could not learn the material of the school program. But despite all my fears about bad grades, my person led an extremely hedonistic lifestyle. Daily meetings with girlfriends, hangouts, and other activities, but highly unproductive activities took up all my time to study. My boyfriend at the time (I will call him Harry in the story) was very unhappy with my grades, because we wanted to enter a prestigious university together, and he was afraid that I would not be able to study there. But as soon as I butter him up a little bit, he quickly changed his anger for mercy and temporarily put an end to his complaints about my education.
Above I briefly introduced you to my life at that time. One average day, when I was talking to my friend (Mary) on the phone and sharing my occasional worries about my studies and future life, she advised me of an interesting and, as I thought, easy way to make money, namely selling my erotic photos using a dating site.
- There are a lot of perverts out there," Mary said then, "you can save money for college.
- What if Harry finds out," I wondered.
- He won't," my friend said confidently, "unless he's out there looking for whores," she said and laughed so loudly that her mother, who was in the kitchen with dinner, took her mind off cooking to hint to her daughter that she wasn't alone in the apartment.
- And in general, communicate only with men over 35 years old, the main money there, - said the reassured joker, - them many married men want without harm to the marriage a little naughty and are willing to pay for it decent money.
Mary laughed out loud again, and when she heard footsteps in the corridor, she said goodbye in a hurry, referring to some business. And I, in turn, was left alone with my thoughts, fueling my interest in this kind of earnings. My head was assaulted with the theses that it was totally disgusting and wrong and that it was definitely not worth it.
I lasted twenty-four hours. Already the next evening, my computer screen was open to the website sluttyone.com. I did not like the name, because you could not call me slutty, do not get me wrong, I love sex, but I am not the kind of person who can give herself to the first person she meets just to fill her pussy. Despite my inner contradictions, my curiosity was no longer subsiding. A couple of minutes to register and here I began to receive a huge number of offers to meet, date, and have sex. Of all such fans, I chose the most sexy-ideal men who were over thirty years old and offered to buy my virtual sex and piquant pictures for the money. About sixty percent of the sample agreed, and I could make about a few hundred dollars in one day. This was an expected result. My appearance is nice and sexy: brown hair with puffy lips, athletic build, though from sports I am quite far. And although at first, I was embarrassed and ashamed, after the first five clients I realized that this kind of intimate communication turned me on. Subsequently, I started caressing myself during virtual sex to get the right attitude and satisfy the client with more than enough to stimulate his lust. This approach led to the fact that some of the men became my permanent sponsors. But even that did not seem to be enough. The truth is that it took a lot of time for beautiful pictures and intimate correspondence, and I had to postpone, as I thought for a while, my offline meetings. My boyfriend suffered from this most of all. We had much less sex, because I often cum with clients, and it seemed too tiring to interrupt work, cram Harry's schedule between classes and extracurriculars, and go out for sex.
For me and the men on the site, everything began and ended online, without real meetings or sex. Although there were many offers and they started at a few hundred a night. I hope you understood what I had to give them for that. The money was not bad, my price was like that of an elite prostitute. With all that said, I didn't want to and, to be honest, I was afraid to go out with clients. But everyone has his price. One day I got an email from a man whose profile said his name was John, he was fifty-four years old, and he was in the trucking business. He declined my offer of online sex, arguing that he was focused on "real life", but put forward a counteroffer: to keep him company for an evening for a thousand dollars. For me, this amount was quite large, ten days of work, after all. I dared to write him a message saying that I did not meet for sex for any money. He told me that he wasn't even offering sex, but that he was paying me the money just to go to a restaurant with him. A thousand just to meet him? Nonsense. But this man was persuasive and offered to video call me to make sure both that he was decent and that he could afford it. After thinking about it for a while, I agreed. On the phone with John, I realized that he had money. How? First of all, by looking at his apartment. The marble floor and fireplace, the antique columns, the gilded chandelier, and so on. Every detail of his home looked insanely expensive. Our conversation with him was fun and relaxed, though I thought I would not be able to relax. We joked and laughed and still made an appointment two days later at the weekend. I only agreed because John made a really good impression on me. And what could be wrong with an ordinary meeting? Especially if you get paid big money for it.
Before the meeting, I put on my makeup. I chose a bright one, even though I had originally planned to look as modest as possible. It was spring and quite cold outside, but this did not stop me from choosing a loose leather skirt above the knee, a blouse, a leather jacket, and heels. In short, I wore the best clothes I had. When I looked at myself in the mirror, I found myself looking like an expensive slut, an image that had previously been disgusting and unacceptable to me. As I admired myself, I bit my lower lip, lifted the edge of my skirt, and looked at the outline of my juicy ass, the halves of which were separated only by thin panties. My phone rang. A familiar name popped up on the screen, which meant it was time to come out.
My parents weren't home for the weekend, so it wasn't hard for me to sneak out looking like that. In the meantime, a black Cadillac Escalade was waiting for me outside. I went to the car and opened its front door. Behind the wheel was a handsome man in a black turtleneck and pants, with a gold watch on his wrist.
- Get in, why are you standing there? - he said and smiled.
- Hello," I could only awkwardly answer.
When I got in the car and closed the door behind me, I could smell the pleasant smell of his expensive perfume.
- It's nice to see you in person, Anna. You're even more beautiful in real life than in pictures.
- Thank you," I said embarrassed.
We drove for about half an hour, and during that time I tried desperately to overcome the embarrassment that suddenly filled my body. Not long ago, I was still standing in front of the mirror, enjoying my youth and sexuality, thinking that any man would fall at my feet if I could spend even a little of my free time with him. But sitting next to John, I realized how small and inexperienced I was, trying to surprise a grown and wealthy man. John, at the same time, exuded masculinity and self-confidence. He tried to make me talk the whole way, joking and complimenting me. When we arrived at the restaurant, he turned to me and said:
- "Well, here we are. I hope you haven't changed your mind?
- No, why would you say that? - I blushed.
- When we were talking on the video link you were very active, and now you've been sitting almost silent for thirty minutes. Are you uncomfortable with me? Are you afraid I'll deceive you?
- No, I'm comfortable, and I'm not afraid. I'm just a little embarrassed because we don't know each other very well.
- Oh, that's the point! Phew, I thought you were going to run away," he said, smiling.
I don't know why, but it was at that moment that I felt calm and easy. That smile was different from the one I'd seen from him before. Maybe it was just my imagination at the time.
- Here, your money. Take it, so it'll be less stressful.
I held out my hand and took the money. After that, we went to a restaurant. It was not a cheap place, to put it mildly: luxurious interior, obliging waiters in beautiful suits, and live piano music.
- What kind of wine do you want? - John asked me.
- Oh, I probably won't drink, my body doesn't respond well to alcohol - I get drunk quickly.
- Good wine does not make you drunk, Anna, - said my companion with a smile on his face.
Any wine gets you drunk. I realized this clearly after the second bottle. Tasty, soft, flavorful, warming, yet still, alcoholic wine did its job, loosening my tongue and loosening my movements. John and I danced several times that night. He behaved as decently as possible while dancing, keeping his hands exclusively on my waist. In turn, I put my hands on my partner's shoulders and trusted him completely. Next to him I felt so fragile, yet completely protected from any turmoil of this world. The evening was ending, and it was time for me to go home.
- I'll order a car," John said, "I can't drive anymore.
Ten minutes later, a black Mercedes S-Class pulled up to the door of the restaurant.
- Do you mind if I ride with you to your house, so to speak, to see you off? - John asked me.
- I do not mind, - I answered playfully.
We got into the car, and I noticed that inside it was not quite normal. There was a wall between the driver and the rear passengers, like in a limousine, and the cabin itself seemed longer compared to the classic model. The window in the partition was closed.
- Does he know where we're going? - I asked.
- He knows, he's been informed," John answered me with a sly smile.
The black Mercedes pulled into the driveway and sped through the streets of the city at night.
My newfound benefactor was mysteriously silent. And I drunkenly tried to adjust my skirt, to save the remains of my decency. And then, he gently placed his hand on my knee and ran it down my thigh straight to my panties.
- Did you think I wouldn't notice you were wearing stockings? And you're well prepared," he said with a look of lust.
- I was just, um...
When I tried to explain myself, he pulled my body toward him in a couple of quick movements and started kissing me on the lips. At that moment, something snapped in my head. All thoughts of Harry, of my parents, of the fact that it was time to go home, and of the fact that this process was beyond my morality were gone. In their place was a wild, animal desire for sex in the back of a fancy Mercedes. I pulled myself closer to John and actively began to respond to his kisses. His finger slid under the elastic band of my panties, heading for my pussy. A few seconds later, his phalanx was sliding over my soft labia, caressing my clit at the same time. My pussy didn't hide my growing desire and was treacherously soggy under John's caresses, and he clearly felt it. When he was done with his pampering, he pushed all three phalanges of one finger sharply into my vagina. I pulled away from his lips, gasping for air with my mouth, trying to hold back the growing moans, but John took me by the throat and pulled me back to him. Wild pleasure spread through my body even without the hot cock inside me. Meanwhile, John was undoing his belt and the button on his pants with his other hand. He did this quite deftly so that in ten seconds I could already see his wiry cock. It was perfectly straight, with a big head, eight inches. It was the first time I'd ever seen a cock like that in person. He took his hand out of his lace panties, gathering my hair into a fist with it. Immediately thereafter, I felt his hand guide my head toward his penis. When my lips were almost on his cock, I smelled a pungent smell of sweat mixed with perfume and another scent unknown to me. It did not disgust me, but, on the contrary, aroused me wildly and eagerly. I slowly licked the head of his cock, and then slowly began to put my mouth on the giant.
- Oh, yeah, bitch! I was beginning to think you wouldn't want to," John murmured softly, pushing the back of my head so that I could swallow his cock deeper.
Despite my efforts, I only managed to touch my lips to his shaved pubis a couple of times, leaving a few distinctive marks on it with my red lipstick. In between oral pleasures to his penis, I licked and sucked his big, sweaty balls while I was wanking his dick. While I was head over heels in the process, John took off my jacket, unbuttoned my blouse, and savagely pulled my breasts out of the cups of my bra without unbuttoning it, before he started stroking and fondling my nipples with his right hand. After five minutes of intense blowjobbing, he started cumming violently in my mouth, pressing my head so close to his cock that my lower lip was touching his scrotum. Hot cum filled my throat. At that moment I really wanted to rip my head out of his hands so I wouldn't choke, but, due to my physical abilities, I couldn't. He let his potential offspring down into me for a long time, after which his cock gradually began to go limp, and he leaned back in the seat with a satisfied look. By then my pussy was so wet that I not only got my panties wet but also created a little puddle in the leather interior. There was silence inside the car for a while, diluted by my rapid breathing and John's satisfied sighs. But then the sonic deficit was broken by two taps on the bulkhead from the driver, which, like the car stopping, meant that we had arrived.
Tucking my bare breasts into my bra and looking out the window, I didn't see any familiar houses.
- Where are we? - I asked my newfound partner.
- At my house," John replied, still reeling from his orgasm.
At this point, my brain, still reeling from the rush of lust, was beginning to understand that this man had not planned to bring me home so easily from the beginning of our meeting. He had paid me a lot of money, and he wanted to earn it back a hundred percent. Maybe it was just pennies to him, though: a grand to fuck some underage whore from the Internet. While I was in a thinking stupor, John tucked his cock back into his pants.
- Button up and put your jacket on," he commanded as he finished tightening his belt.
I obediently began to button my blouse and looked around for the previously removed piece of clothing. I understood now why I didn't resent him and demanded that John take me home because I knew I had no way back. What's more, my lust didn't disappear, but rather intensified, mingling with fear, helplessness, and the feeling that this wasn't the end of tonight. After I got dressed, John opened the back door of the car and invited me out of the vehicle by giving me a hand.
My sponsor's apartment was in a fancy new building near the river. Inside, everything reminded me of a hotel: a huge front hall that resembled a reception desk, a concierge sitting behind the counter, and a large glass elevator. When we got to the twenty-second floor, we walked down the corridor only a little bit, stopping at the apartment with number one hundred and sixty-five. As John opened the doors, my eyes ran over his body and stopped, coming across a distinct bump in the groin area.
"A pretty tough guy for a man of his age," I thought then.
The doors opened, and I saw the rich, but familiar, the interior of the apartment, from the moment I'd spoken to the landlord over the video link. We stepped inside, and then the front door closed behind me. A strong hand grasped my forearm and turned me toward him almost instantly. John dug into my plump lips with renewed vigor, trying to wrap his rough, rough tongue around my soft, girlish tongue. A second later, he had one hand on my waist and the other on my juicy, firm ass. I couldn't continue in the hallway, so John took me by the hips and lifted my body so that my knees were next to his elbows, without stopping to kiss me for a second. In this position, he took the slutty girl into the bedroom and laid her across the bed, and then he pulled up my skirt, ripped my panties off, and started licking my wet pussy. I could hear my girl squelching with delight and arousal, which made me moan, enjoying every touch of John's tongue on my labia. I promptly threw off my jacket and carelessly removed my blouse and bra, allowing me to caress my pink nipples. I crossed my legs behind his back. John, apparently deciding that such caresses were not enough for me, added a finger to his tongue, intensely fucking my vagina with it. My pussy was tight and unstretched at the time, so the combination of finger and tongue gave me great pleasure.
- Oh, John, hurry up, I'm going to cum-" Before I could say it, my whole body was shaking and throbbing.
- Good slut," John said, wiping his mouth, "give me your cunt.
I, still beating in orgasm, didn't hear his words at all, so he rolled me over on my stomach himself and slid his eight-inch cock into my pussy without delay.
- Ah! - I screamed. - Don't!
His big dick easily reached the wall of my uterus with each thrust, which was both very painful and incredibly satisfying. John's big cock was just tearing my cunt apart, creating mixed feelings in my head at the same time. It wasn't even two minutes after the cunnilingus before I was violently cumming for the second time with my eyes rolled upward. I had to pull his cock out of me so that all the secretions could flow out quietly.
- What's the matter, slut, did you cum again? - John asked mockingly. - Do you like my dick?
- Very much," I muttered. - More.
John slapped my ass so hard I cried out.
- Beg me, you stupid cunt! - he shouted.
- Please don't stop, fuck me harder! - I said as clearly as I could, choking on my saliva.
He slapped my ass one more time and inserted his huge cock again. This time I was already a little used to his size, which allowed me to not be a vegetable during sex and at least understands what was going on around me. As I lifted my head, I took a quick glance around the part of the bedroom that was available to me. The bedside table in particular caught my attention. But no, not with its gorgeous look or fancy shape. It had a framed photo of three people on it: John, a woman his age, and a girl, probably a little older than me.
"It's probably his ex-wife and daughter he was telling me about in the restaurant," I thought at the time. He just left a picture of them as a memento after the divorce."
And it would have been all right if the frame hadn't been engraved:
"To my beloved husband from wife and daughter, January 2022."
' And now it's December of that same year. John said he divorced his wife years ago, so it turns out he hid that he was married?!", these thoughts swirled incredibly awkwardly in my head as the man used both hands to thrust my ass on his cock.
- Yes, Alice, yes, my girl! - Clenched his teeth, he muttered.
"Alice? Who is she?"
As I looked at the photo, I noticed that the girl standing next to John looked strikingly like me.
"Alice! I remembered! That's the daughter of the man who's fucking me, apparently, right in his family bed. He was telling me about her while we were having dinner. So while we're having sex, John imagines he's fucking his own daughter?!"
My mind, heated by lust and alcohol, took this information in an unusual light. I knew that I should be extremely outraged that the man who was fucking me now had first lied to me about my divorce and then imagined that he was fucking his own daughter instead of me, but for some reason, it excited me wildly.
- Yes, come on, Daddy, fuck me harder! - I declared in a trembling voice.
- Oh, arch your back, baby!
John squeezed my breasts in his hands and accelerated his thrusts. My body was throbbing in ecstasy, but at the same time, I felt like a dirty slut: cheating on my boyfriend, sleeping with an older, married man for money, and playing the role of his daughter in the sex. This all sounds unacceptable and wild to a normal person, but at that moment this information worked on me better than any aphrodisiac.
- Oh-h-h-h," John moaned from behind me. - I'm coming!
- Stop! Not in me.
Before I could finish my sentence, I felt a powerful stream of cum begins to fill my vagina. My pussy, unable to withstand the feelings bubbling inside me, began to cum, too. My knees couldn't hold me any longer, so I collapsed onto the bed. John's hot sperm spurted from my vagina onto the bedclothes. I cramped from the violent orgasm, after which I just passed out.
To be continued...