curves in a sultry smile I don’t have to fake when I crack the glass for our exchange. I lean forward until my breasts press against the cool, smooth surface, anticipating how he’ll begin. I wonder if he’s done his research.
Maybe he took the day tour through the Prostitution Information Center. Probably asked a thousand and one questions too. Clean-shaven, button-down shirt tucked into his ironed jeans, neat wire glasses…he appears the type.
“G-good evening. How are you?” Slightly rough, his American accent beads my nipples. Definitely his first time.
“I’m great, hon.” I toss in a wink and he chuckles, loosening up a little. “What can I do for you?”
“How much for a standard suck and fuck?”
Ah, he knows the lingo. A good sign.
“Do you need fifteen minutes or thirty?” I’m hoping he’ll take the scenic route. Not for the money but because I’d like to make the night he loses his prostitution cherry more memorable.
“Uh… How about thirty? And I’d like to touch your breasts, with you totally nude. Two positions.”
I grin. He has done his homework. Such a good boy.
“First-time special, a hundred Euros.”
“That obvious, huh?”
I smile gently. “Only to a professional. I’ll take good care of you, I promise.”
He nods once then passes me a crisp note through the sliver of space between the frame and my glass panel. I tuck the bill into my drop-box, which is bolted to the floor, enter the transaction in my ledger then invite him through my window.
The man trips over the raised threshold but catches himself against me in the narrow opening. I would mark the hazard, since so many others do the same, but it’s an easy icebreaker.
Because now he’s touching me. I glance down to where he’s cupping my shoulders and I smile. His hands are soft, his grip is gentle. Nice. An easy start to the evening.
“Excuse me.”
“No need. Let me close up and we can get to it.” I reach around his trim waist, stroking him with the side of my arm as I pull the window closed. The lock engages with a click, securing us inside. I nod in triumph at Mari, in the window on the other side of the canal, when she blows me a little kiss for my win. Then I slide the thick drape across the glass, blocking the view from the teeming masses outside.
I catch my client checking around, probably wondering what happens next.
“All the booths in this building have stairs leading to bedrooms upstairs.” I approach him then slide my palm from his shoulder to his slightly sweaty hand. Our fingers link as I rub against him, gliding past him in the tight enclosure. “Follow me.”
“How embarrassing.” He grimaces when I smile over my shoulder.
“That you’re a virgin John? Everyone is once.” I explore the ridges of his knuckles with my fingertips. His hand trembles beneath mine in anticipation that I feel fortunate to share. His excitement is contagious, making my thighs damp as they slide across each other. “You’re doing great.”
“Thanks.” He laughs, the chuckle sounding a bit surprised. “You’re really sweet.”
“I’m whatever you need me to be.”
I begin to climb the steep rise. Old wooden planks creak beneath my feet. How many others have made this journey to satisfy an age-old yearning? I am part of history, connected to my predecessors by a shared understanding of what it’s like to pay for comfort. For pleasure. For relief.
Now this man is too.
Like a psychologist or a chiropractor or a teacher, I’m pleased that my profession allows me to care for my fellow humans. And pumped that it is so exciting simultaneously.
My client groans when my ass is presented mere inches from his face. The stairs do wonders for my form as I sway from side to side as we ascend. Women of all shapes, sizes, ages and nationalities offer services in the district. There’s something for everyone. I work hard to keep myself as I like best. Fit but not skinny, there’s plenty to fill a
Maybe he took the day tour through the Prostitution Information Center. Probably asked a thousand and one questions too. Clean-shaven, button-down shirt tucked into his ironed jeans, neat wire glasses…he appears the type.
“G-good evening. How are you?” Slightly rough, his American accent beads my nipples. Definitely his first time.
“I’m great, hon.” I toss in a wink and he chuckles, loosening up a little. “What can I do for you?”
“How much for a standard suck and fuck?”
Ah, he knows the lingo. A good sign.
“Do you need fifteen minutes or thirty?” I’m hoping he’ll take the scenic route. Not for the money but because I’d like to make the night he loses his prostitution cherry more memorable.
“Uh… How about thirty? And I’d like to touch your breasts, with you totally nude. Two positions.”
I grin. He has done his homework. Such a good boy.
“First-time special, a hundred Euros.”
“That obvious, huh?”
I smile gently. “Only to a professional. I’ll take good care of you, I promise.”
He nods once then passes me a crisp note through the sliver of space between the frame and my glass panel. I tuck the bill into my drop-box, which is bolted to the floor, enter the transaction in my ledger then invite him through my window.
The man trips over the raised threshold but catches himself against me in the narrow opening. I would mark the hazard, since so many others do the same, but it’s an easy icebreaker.
Because now he’s touching me. I glance down to where he’s cupping my shoulders and I smile. His hands are soft, his grip is gentle. Nice. An easy start to the evening.
“Excuse me.”
“No need. Let me close up and we can get to it.” I reach around his trim waist, stroking him with the side of my arm as I pull the window closed. The lock engages with a click, securing us inside. I nod in triumph at Mari, in the window on the other side of the canal, when she blows me a little kiss for my win. Then I slide the thick drape across the glass, blocking the view from the teeming masses outside.
I catch my client checking around, probably wondering what happens next.
“All the booths in this building have stairs leading to bedrooms upstairs.” I approach him then slide my palm from his shoulder to his slightly sweaty hand. Our fingers link as I rub against him, gliding past him in the tight enclosure. “Follow me.”
“How embarrassing.” He grimaces when I smile over my shoulder.
“That you’re a virgin John? Everyone is once.” I explore the ridges of his knuckles with my fingertips. His hand trembles beneath mine in anticipation that I feel fortunate to share. His excitement is contagious, making my thighs damp as they slide across each other. “You’re doing great.”
“Thanks.” He laughs, the chuckle sounding a bit surprised. “You’re really sweet.”
“I’m whatever you need me to be.”
I begin to climb the steep rise. Old wooden planks creak beneath my feet. How many others have made this journey to satisfy an age-old yearning? I am part of history, connected to my predecessors by a shared understanding of what it’s like to pay for comfort. For pleasure. For relief.
Now this man is too.
Like a psychologist or a chiropractor or a teacher, I’m pleased that my profession allows me to care for my fellow humans. And pumped that it is so exciting simultaneously.
My client groans when my ass is presented mere inches from his face. The stairs do wonders for my form as I sway from side to side as we ascend. Women of all shapes, sizes, ages and nationalities offer services in the district. There’s something for everyone. I work hard to keep myself as I like best. Fit but not skinny, there’s plenty to fill a
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