CD Rebeca Young Tranny p6 Gurl Meets World
Young Tranny
6. How I Started part 6- Gurl Meets World
As the cool So-Cal not-so winter arrived Mr. Carlton began taking me on "field trips." Darkness would start around five PM and by six it was night and the darkness would help conceal me on our trips. I would get dressed up in the sex-loft and my bathroom like always, then go down stairs into the garage, curl up as small as possible on the passenger floor area of his full-size car and he'd smuggle me out of the neighborhood several blocks before I'd sit in the seat like a good little gurl. Then we'd ride around with my legs spread, panties showing. Often Mr. Carlton had me lay over on his lap with his cock in my mouth and slow-suck him as he drove to whatever attraction he wanted me to see.
This was my "school-gurl" phase. Almost every day that fall I was in some lewd school-gurl outfit. When we drove around I was a naughty school gurl, red plaid skirt, white pantyhose a few times, but usually a red garter belt and white stockings, a tight white blouse and either a red or a black bra with my amazing falsies bouncing around with every movement. Sometimes my hair was in pig tails and sometimes down, but my makeup was always sexy, whoreish, and striking, the way we both like it.
When we left his house we were always on our way to some perverse place to play or someplace he wanted to fuck me at. In reality he was making me comfortable outside his house for much bigger things.
Sex in public with Mr. Carlton was ok, but not as intense and satisfying on its own as in his sex loft. However, the public aspect made it a bit risky, rather dangerous and very exciting. Often we would go someplace and one of us, or both of us would do something highly sexual and then one or both of us would cum there. Then we'd drive and do the same thing in another place. After two or three orgasms we'd head back to his house and often plan to be done and clean up, but just as often we would fuck once more. I left a lot of cum drops all over the place in So-Cal during this phase.
As we played outside the safety of Mr. Carlton's house I learned the difference between passable and fuckable. I was passable and appeared totally femme, but if I spoke there was an unusual and erotic aspect to my voice that caught people's attention because it was just a bit off for a "girl" my age. My voice suggested I was anything but average, and my voice plus my slutty look suggested I was a whore in heat. I was still fuckable. I might not have been totally femme, but I was definitely totally fuckable.
I was mortified the first time I saw the reaction with a stranger trying to figure me out, but I got over it quickly. After about the first five times I became very comfortable interacting briefly with people and accepted that more than likely they would question my true sex. Mr. Carlton seemed to expect this and encouraged me to try harder, but also tempered my expectations. I accepted sexy and fuckable over passable, though I never stopped working toward perfection. After the first few encounters I sank to low confidence and then with Mr. Carlton's simple matter-of-fact encouragement I got over it and improved.
Soon I was comfortable being seen and interacting with other people as a young lady, not necessarily a naughty gurl until I said something. For example, we would occasionally get food at a drive-through. Mr. Carlton would be polite if it was a gen-girl, but if it was a boy or young man he'd have me thank the person at the window using my best femme-voice and mannerisms. After I did we'd watch the reaction, depart, and discuss the lustful reactions and expressions as the guys tried to figure out what the deal was.
Often we'd both get worked up at the exhibitionist-like experience and he'd rub me or make me suck him off as he described what he imagined was going though the poor guy's confused mind with what he saw. I recall him stroking me and probing my fuck-hole and saying things like, "Oh, fuck yes, he wanted to fuck your mouth...he saw what a hot little whore you are and he's going to jack off thinking about the little red-headed schoolgurl whore later tonight."
One evening Mr. Carlton stroked me hard right up to the fast food window cashier could see into the front seat and then had me cover my crotch at the last moment. The cute 20-something-year-old guy of indiscernible race must have seen my tight pole-tenting micro-miniskirt and he looked me over and figured out EXACTLY what I was. He took the money, a minute later handed us the order and proved he knew what he saw saying to Mr. Carlton with a knowing smile, "Your special little gurl is amazing, I am sure you'll have a great night." That night we were both so excited by his reaction and essentially being caught that he drove us a few blocks and turned into a nice residential neighborhood, pulled between two cars and a tree to our right rear and got out.
Mr. Carlton briefly had me suck his cock and then stood me, turned me, and then pinned me against the rear passenger fender and fucked me for about a full minute before he came up my ass. We actually went by that same restaurant several times to see if the guy was interested in playing with me. I was reluctant to tell Mr. Carlton how much I secretly was hoping he'd be my first stranger-sex. I'd masturbated alone at night with him as a main part of my fantasy numerous times. Alas, it was not to be. We never saw him again and I have always wondered what Mr. Carlton had in mind if we had seen him.
Our field trips were always fun. Sometimes we went to a park, others we visited a beach overlook, and once we simply just drove in circles in the downtown area and then into Hollywood. That was the first time I saw actual prostitutes. They were real women for rent and they were actually disappointing. Too many were haggard or twitchy or just "off" a bit. Still, it was fascinating and exciting that it was real sex trade. Occasionally we saw a hot girl, but more often there was just something faulty about whores. The next time we went through Hollywood we cruised the boulevard and then came back up Santa Monica boulevard. This was far more exciting. On Santa Monica we saw a total of three actual transsexual prostitutes, trany-whores. I was in awe. These gurls were, if not totally hot, at least not screwed up looking as the gen-girls on Hollywood Boulevard were. They put effort into their looks and had a vastly different erotic appeal. Though I always wanted to stop and interact with them, I never told Mr. Carlton. I feared that I might put a bad idea in his head and find myself outside the car as he drove off. Later, that stretch of road was an attraction too hard to resist, but I wasn't quite there yet.
On one field trip we got caught in a park with a fuck-scene that had to look to resemble some older man fucking a little school girl. We were near one of the walking-trail park lamps that anyone nearby couldn't help but see I was his fucktoy. What he saw was this. I was dressed with a white blouse over a dark blue knee-length skirt, red hair, and a generally less-than whoreish school-gurl look. My knees were spread wide on the hard bench with my skirt pushed up and over my perfect bubble-butt. My creamy ass was spread wide and pointed upward to meet Mr. Carlton's hard cock and pelvic punch. My torso was roughly bent over the picnic table and "daddy" or some other improper-aged man was pumping me deep and hard from behind.
The older man who caught us was walking his oddly-quiet eager puppy-dog in the woods on another trail uphill and above us. He was headed toward the the main park area Mr. Carlton's car was parked, but must have heard our sex sounds and probably my fuck-moans. I recall that I was about to anally-cum as this occurred. I was on edge, about to reach down and make myself pop and was probably saying, "Yes! Yessss! Fuck me harder!" Then we heard some movements through dry leaves that turned out to be his one-year old hyper Black Lab off the leash, tail wagging at finding new friends to greet.
The puppy's arrival was quickly followed up by the less-than agile older man headed downhill toward us and crashing though brush about thirty or forty feet away. I saw his dog looking right at me, mouth smiling in the odd way some dogs do. The dog was crashing through the dry leaves on the other side of a small dry stream bed trying to figure out how best to come across and meet the new friends he'd found. The puppy's master stumbled downhill toward the dog and us on the shallow rise across from him. The older guy called out with concern in his voice, "Are you ok?" He sounded like a concerned neighbor and was looking at me when he called out. But we quickly stopped and started to make our exit as fast as possible. I pulled my panties up and pushed the long skirt down. Mr. Carlton zipped up, nearly catching his scrotum, and we both kinda ran from the area. "Kinda" ran because that night, like all "park" nights I was wearing high-heeled calf-length boots with wide heels, not stilettos, so I was actually able to move pretty quick. I beat Mr. Carlton to the car by almost a minute and waited in a panic, searching for on-lookers as I waited. The lot was empty. As we got into the car the puppy-dog, friendlier than ever, reached us and sought it's expected petting from me as Mr. Carlton got in the car to get us out of there. We left as quickly as we could, carefully missing the curious friendly pup on our way out. Fortunately Mr. Carlton had parked in a way to allow our fast departure. If the man had been faster he may have gotten the plate number and the whole situation could have gotten ugly fast.
All of these experiences were exciting but they also had other unexpected effects. My personal confidence developed and I became more outgoing. The unknown guy in the window of the fast food store and some other "nosy neighbor" guy that caught me rising up off Mr. Carlton's cock with a mouthful of cum were etched in my mind as sexual milestones. One day in mid-December, about a week before holiday break, he drove me past several adult theaters and talked in great detail about what kinds of delights were occurring inside as we drove by. I had no idea that they existed and my imagination ran wild. The next Monday, on my back and looking up at him as his cock popped me on my bed in the sex loft Mr. Carlton made me cum as I begged him to take me to a theater, I said, "I wanna be your little gurl whore in....uh uh uh.... in...the movie theater." Begging like that sealed my fate.
Four days later, Friday, at noon we were released from school to start winter break. I took my bicycle home, dumped my book bag, left my mom a note saying I was with a neighbor k** and was headed up Mr. Carlton's stairs as fast as I could make it happen. I wanted to have a five or six hour playday with Mr. Carlton and privately hoped a specific friend of his might show up and fuck me with his big Latino cock.
I got there and...nothing. No Mr. Carlton and certainly no kinky couple and no hot Latino friend. Nobody to fuck or play with.
Except, there was something. When I went to my room there was a note and things laid out for me to wear. The note said, "Don't take too long with your makeup, we have someplace to be and it will be messed up shortly after we arrive. Meet me in the car at 3pm."
I had well over an hour to get ready, so I did. Over time and practice my routine had changed a bit. Now I started in the bathroom cleaning my sex-hole and preparing it as well as possible. I douched until I was clean and then I lubed myself as deep as I could. Then I went to the bedroom and dressed to then return to the bathroom and complete the preparations with makeup and any last minute cleaning or preparing. That Friday, since I had some time, I was meticulous. I cleaned out my insides, lotioned my outsides, I put my plug in to stretch my cunt a bit and condition it for daddy-cock...or hopefully cocks! In the bedroom I found a set of naughty stretchy black Lycra lingerie consisting of a garter belt, thigh-highs, and a bra. I had sheer-white see-through panties, a tight dark-red, perhaps burgundy, sleeveless top with a "V" neckline that revealed my black bra, my calf-length boots, and finally a black flowing miniskirt that stopped exactly at my stocking tops. Topped off with my newest shoulder-length red haired wig, I loved the look and I was both passable and totally fuckable.
Once dressed I sat and stroked myself beginning to edge and enjoyed one of my favorite of Mr. Carlton's home-made TS-fuck movies. As I waited and stroked my mind wandered far and wide as I imagined what the surprise might be. I got in the car on time and the adventure began.
Just ahead of four in the afternoon as the work week was ending and "Friday traffic" began to increase Mr. Carlton pulled just past one of the adult theaters he'd shown me during our drive a week or so ago. I immediately recognized it because he'd made me stop sucking him off long enough to see the front sign and the door as people went in.
Mr. Carlton stopped and prepared to parallel park and paused as he held up traffic and took a long look at me searching for my reaction. I beamed with enthusiasm and he smiled and parked the car.
He took out his wallet and then he firmly said, "You begged for it and so, today is the day. You're going to the theater."
Adrenaline shot through me. Knowing I was possibly a bit young for the place I was shocked and excited all at once. Then he explained how this would work. Then I became a bit scared.
Mr. Carlton said, "So, I have been here a lot over the years and I know this place, but here is how we will work this. I will leave and go in and I'll see you once you're inside." He paused to see me grasping what he said, then continued, "You will wait here until my watch, I am leaving it here, says 3:55 pm. That's six minutes from now." He handed me a five dollar bill and continued, "You will pay your way in with this five dollar bill and go straight back into the theater where I will be looking for you. It will be dark, so I will try to be just off to the left as you enter, ok? Do you have any questions?"
I understood.
He smiled and reminded me to lock my door after I got out of the car and then went in.
Five minutes was a long dreadful time. I worried about everything. I was deeply concerned that someone would notice me alone in the car and ask me what I was doing. I imagined how I would have to say, "Oh, waiting to go have sex in the adult theater... Yes, I am a gurlie-boy...no, I am not from this area..." Then I worried about what if I fell down and hurt myself on the sidewalk on the way in.
After dealing with the myriad of possibilities, I exhausted the utter helplessness of my situation and embraced the uncertainty...for about a minute, and then it was time.
At 3:56 I was in the theater lobby and adult-sex shoppe. After stepping form the late fall afternoon sun my eyes had to adjust to the dim brassy lighting. At first I couldn't recognize the "box-office" and shop counter. Built strong and elevated to watch over the merchandise, there was a dim light inside the pay window and a man in coke-bottle lens glasses looked out at me. The small shop of sex toys and porn movies inside the lobby area was also a bit overwhelming. I'd never been in a sex shop so everything caught my attention. I was distracted by all the new environment had to offer. Then I saw myself in a mirror and recalled what I was doing and got back to "business." I stepped to the counter looked up at the clerk and, without a word, I handed him the $5 bill.
Only a short distance away, I could see him better now. He was a bit older, a bit heavy, and seemed totally at home in the troll-like darkness.
He said sternly, "What the hell is that for?"
I mustered my smoothest femme voice and said, "I'd like to go into the theater, please."
He stood from a stool behind the imposing counter. He looked me over like I was a piece of meat and said, "Oh, a gurlie-boi." He smiled and said, "Very cute, but do you have another dollar? It's six bucks on Fridays."
Later, I discovered that motherfucker was utterly lying to me, it was always $5.00. Always. Fucking always! But at the time, after realizing how helpless I was in the car, I nearly melted down. Of fuck, I thought. Mr. Carlton had shorted me a buck. How was I going to get him to give me another dollar? Wait, he doesn't want to have people know I am with him, for obvious reasons. Oh fuck! My mind raced and I was a bundle of nerves.
The man behind the counter noticed and lowered his voice a bit. Perhaps it was supposed to calm me, but I was beginning to freak out. I had locked the door to the car and everything. What the heck was I going to do? I actually wasn't as much into swearing back then.
Now leaning further forward and able to see all the way down to my shoes, the clerk said, "Well, honey, if you want to go into the theater you need six dollars, and, since you look kinda young you will also need to prove you are old enough to be in the theater. If you can prove that I will front you the dollar and you can owe me. So prove it, window shop, or...you can get out."
I stalled with a cute smile and asked him if I could look for a friend in the theater. He laughed at the absurdity, then declined, and then reiterated that I needed to prove I was old enough.
Several times I pleaded. He repeated his "No" reply and each time he added that I needed to prove myself.
Finally, I bit. "So, what do I need to prove myself?"
He smiled in a somewhat evil way. "Well, why don't you step up though that door and come around to my counter and prove to me that you belong in that theater." Off to my right something buzzed and a panel popped open and became a door. I paused for a long moment and then complied. I looked up at him and gripped the heavy metal security door edge pulling just far enough to step through. I carefully stepped up three stairs to his platform in my well-groomed "strutting" manner, even though I felt nothing like strutting at that moment. I imagined that he wanted a blow job and prepared myself for smelly body odor, a small dick, and oily thighs and balls.
He sat on his stool, turned to face me and said, "Ok...good...turn around and let me see all of you."
I turned and showed my goods. The skirt gripped my ass and hips so well that I felt his light caress of my hip down my ass and then to the top of my stockings as if he were touching my skin. He pinch-groped my ass hard and said, "Fucking hot!" As I completed my turn he noticed my little bulge and he pinched my cock through my skirt. I realized that I was turned on despite the desperate situation.
I couldn't help but look over and smile at the compliment.
"Sooo," he said slowly, "Don't tell me your name or age or really...anything... about you. If you want to get into the theater you gotta get down under the counter and take care of me and show me you belong back there, I'll let you owe me the dollar, and you can go in. Ok? Deal?"
I looked him over and decided that he was by far the most unkempt, least fit, and least appealing man I had ever considered being a slut for. I weighed my options and decided I had none. Then, like a bolt of lightening, I realized that, at least in part, Mr. Carlton had planned this, so, I went with it. I stepped over to the counter and knelt down to ease forward and then pivoted back around to face his zipper and his meaty cock. He lifted his dark grungy t-shirt and his cock was already out. He'd had it out the entire time I'd been speaking with him.
I became excited at the realization and leaned in and accepted his smooth cut slippery cock between my lips. I went down on him and he moaned his approval. I slid down his meaty six inches and hit his pungent pubic hairs. I went back up and down on him fast and with a twist, working hard to get him off quickly. He was a bit sweaty, but nowhere near as horrible as I'd imagined. His cock was meaty and actually kind of hot. I worked him with typical gusto, down nice and loose with a twist and then back up tight and smooth with my tongue going all over his shaft and then the head. I was pretty confident in my skills and thought that there was a better-than average chance I'd make him cum in a minute or two, so I worked him really well, but I was a bit too eager.
He knew what I was doing and held my head to slow my movements and make the blowjob last. He said as he brought my head up, "Slow down there Missy. Take it slow and deep. You suck cock good, but you need to slow down."
Then, I my inner monologue, as if Mistress K's sweet erotic and stern voice were in my ear saying, "Your purpose as a slut is to please the cock owner, your owner as long as he wants you and his cock is using you. That is what you are as a cocksucker." So, with that in mind, I complied and slowed. I went doooooowwwnnnn and then uuuuuuppppp over and over, twisting occasionally and rubbing my tongue over his head at the top, just as I'd been taught. Over and over, up and down I worked him.
About a minute that into the blowjob I heard the business door open and then about another minute into sucking him off I heard him accept admission to the theater and making change. I went down and silently held him deep in my mouth. I paused until he told me to "Keep fucking going you little bitch."
I heard the man buying access to the theater pause and listen to hear what was going on behind, or rather below, the counter.
On a whim I made a sucking noise on the next up stroke.
The clerk said, "Is there anything else you need? Condoms? Lube? Poppers?"
Nothing more was said, but I heard the clerk moan after a few seconds and realized that the customer must have moved. I kept sucking cock like the whore I had been groomed to be.
I kept sucking him off for several minutes and several more customers. Then he leaned back and pulled himself away form my mouth. He smiled down at me and said, "Ok, stop a second, look behind you and find the hand grips I screwed into the counter wall... behind you there are about ten of them all over the place. So, pick a couple of hand grips you like and...and hang on. I'm gunna fuck you, so, show me your ass you fucking slut." He chuckled, then added, "So, I know you belong in the theater, so...this is to secure the loan from me."
As if some deeply hidden sex-programming switched on, I heard Mistress K's domineering voice telling me to "Be his whore and present him your ass!"
I turned and found a myriad of hand holds. Most were metal cabinet grips, others were screwed-together blocks of wood in the form of horizontal "L"s. They were arrayed in a relatively symmetric order so that if you grabbed a cabinet handle, as I did, there was a similar handle at nearly the same height for your other hand. I gripped the handles and held just as my perky ass as properly poised for him to use. As I took hold I felt as he pushed my skirt up and pulled my panties down. Both hands caressed my ass with round circular cupping touches and then I heard his pants, weighted by his key rings and, I now noticed, a small pistol, make a loud "thump" on the thin rug of the clerk desk.
When I saw the pistol for a moment I was completely out of control of the situation, but that realization sent a shot of fear through me and then was just as quickly replaced with exhilaration as I realized that this was exactly the thing I had been prepared for my Mistress K and Mr. Carlton. I was a plaything and, since I'd learned to do as I'd been groomed for, so, mostly, I was excited. Now, largely unphased by the little black gun, totally high on sex, I went deep under the counter and presented him my fuck-hole. I was bent into a low "L", boots firmly planted wide and my hands and arms extended and holding for the pounding I knew would begin. I was also easily a foot below the actual top of the counter where he received payments from patrons. I loved being bent and presenting my ass like a sex toy.
As his cock pushed into me I expected it. As it opened me up and stretched me a bit I was very glad that I had pre-lubbed my ass as Mistress K had rigidly enforced with me. The notion that I was definitely out of control, but I was also prepared to be sexually "used" felt like a small victory and turned me on.
I felt his cock open me up and push all the way into my boi-cunt. He slow fucked me and went deep. Since I was in a nearly perfect "L", bent like a bitch, his cock was popping into my G-spot almost every time he pumped me. I felt myself in the moment and realized that I was already approaching orgasm. My cock was hard and swinging in time with his fuck-thrusts. I was getting close to orgasm already. I moaned and made gurlish noises that in the closed off space below the counter sounded much louder to me than to him.
Then, as he was fucking me deep and hard and increasing speed I heard a loud buzzer go off just to my right. The front door was open. He kept fucking me, but slowed and smoothed his thrusts. A customer interrupted us.
I was on edge and, though I was enjoying it the sex in many ways, the sane part of me wanted to be done with him. The sex-crazed part of me just wanted to cum. Either way, a customer interruption was not at all what I wanted.
So the guy came in and paid and was gone as fast as possible. No talking and throughout the business the clerk kept a slow-fuck pace going. As he took care of the patron I felt him lean down on the counter and imagined him, elbows on the counter, doing business while he slowly fucked me in the ass, his hips moving well out of view o f the customer.
Then, business completed, the hard and fast pace resumed. Then the fucking buzzer went off again.
The interruptions kept happening. Once the door was open and about four of five guys came in at the same time. Over and over this happened. A quick two-minute fuck stretched to almost twenty minutes. As the customers interrupted him he would slow or stop balls-deep in me. I began wondering if he was ever going to cum. Each time he slowed or stopped and held deep up my little asshole.
Then, at one point, when I thought he was going to cum, I pushed back into him and "accidentally" took myself over the edge and had my first hands-free orgasm of the field trip. I say "accidentally" because I didn't really mean to cum, but deep inside somewhere I wanted to cum. It was a hot orgasm too. Thick "First-shot" semen popped out in three or four throbbing hand less jerks of my cock and then I realized what was happening. I smiled a wicked nasty queen-whore smile and looked underneath my hips to see the show. I was cumming from a nasty man in the nastiest of places. So deliciously humiliating. I watched the thin liquid cum-line going down from my cock to the dingy floor. I considered gripping myself and stroking to intensify the orgasm, but I was too busy holding onto the hand holds and getting rough-pumped.
As my orgasm subsided and my cock merely throbbed a bit, the man was going quicker than he had in a few minutes. My mind briefly wandered and for about five seconds I pondered how many other, what, girls, boys, women?...men? had used these same hand holds...and why?
Then, all of a sudden I heard, somewhat muffled by the fact I was under the counter, "I'm gunna cum."
He stepped back and pulled out. I wasn't expecting him to cum anywhere but in my tight young ass. So for a moment I wondered why he was out of me. Then I realized that, like the "every time" part of being a gurlie-boy whore, like always lubing my ass when I get dressed, like always squeezing my sphincter tight for counter-pressure when a cock goes up my ass, like all the things I'd been groomed to do every time I was a dirty gurl, I was supposed to be doing something at that moment.
In a split second I knew what it was and acted. Exactly as taught, I pushed back off and away from the handles, backed up a little, and turned. I dropped to my knees, feeling a slight rug-burn abrasion that no-doubt was minimized because of my stockings. I slid into place and knelt to worship his fuck-slick cock. As groomed, I ass-to-mouth, or "ATM," sucked his cum-shooting cock. My mouth opened wide on automatic and I leaned into his slimy-smooth cock as he pushed forward like it was made for me. I closed on his girth and slid my whorish lips down his ample shaft as the first shot blasted into me.
I was ecstatic. Not only was I sucking off a stranger, I could tell I was as "clean as a whistle." I did exactly as taught and I felt the lube on my lips, fresh from my asshole. Then he came hard, his cock exploding in short nasty throbs- Bam, bam bam bammmmmmm....hold....
I accepted his cock deep in my mouth and his hands gripped my head and held me in place as he came. Then, after his cock-spasms subsided he released my head and I did what I was supposed to do next. Again, just like the well-groomed whore I apparently was, I slow-sucked his cock. I milked him a bit with slight smooth sucks in a slow forward and back, up and down blow-job.
I looked up and could see his entire face, even his eyes through the the coke-bottle lens glasses, smiling a nasty dominant dirty smile.
I twisted a bit and saw his smile drop away and a post-sex grimace as I continued rubbing his cock. The grimace unexpectedly flashed across his face and then was gone with a questioning look of "How did you know to do that to me?..Wow!" I sucked him slowly like I was groomed to do and completed the sex properly until he was done. He moaned hard and pulled back and then out of my cum-filled mouth he came.
A large drip of cum sucked out in the fast pull away from my mouth and slid down my chin and dropped to the filthy stained floor before I realized it was happening.
His eyes rolled back a final time and he leaned back and breathed deeply several times before he sank back down onto his seat.
Another customer came in and I paused, frozen on my knees, cum on my chin as business was handled.
Accepting theater fees was enough to snap him from his post-orgasm bliss. As the customer left the counter for the theater he smiled down at me briefly though his thick lenses and then took care of business.
After the customer had gone the clerk said, "I have owned this place a long time and you are without a doubt one of the best fucking gurlie-boi slut whores I have fucked. You are definitely ready to go in. Your fee is paid...in full." Then, still looking down at me he added, "You may want to freshen up in the restroom first...you have some cum on your chin."
I smiled and politely left the booth as the damn buzzer sounded again. I stepped out and headed for the restroom as the new customer looked up "catching" me leave the booth.
I looked over at the new customer who was checking me out and I thought to myself, "Be seeing you soon..."
6. How I Started part 6- Gurl Meets World
As the cool So-Cal not-so winter arrived Mr. Carlton began taking me on "field trips." Darkness would start around five PM and by six it was night and the darkness would help conceal me on our trips. I would get dressed up in the sex-loft and my bathroom like always, then go down stairs into the garage, curl up as small as possible on the passenger floor area of his full-size car and he'd smuggle me out of the neighborhood several blocks before I'd sit in the seat like a good little gurl. Then we'd ride around with my legs spread, panties showing. Often Mr. Carlton had me lay over on his lap with his cock in my mouth and slow-suck him as he drove to whatever attraction he wanted me to see.
This was my "school-gurl" phase. Almost every day that fall I was in some lewd school-gurl outfit. When we drove around I was a naughty school gurl, red plaid skirt, white pantyhose a few times, but usually a red garter belt and white stockings, a tight white blouse and either a red or a black bra with my amazing falsies bouncing around with every movement. Sometimes my hair was in pig tails and sometimes down, but my makeup was always sexy, whoreish, and striking, the way we both like it.
When we left his house we were always on our way to some perverse place to play or someplace he wanted to fuck me at. In reality he was making me comfortable outside his house for much bigger things.
Sex in public with Mr. Carlton was ok, but not as intense and satisfying on its own as in his sex loft. However, the public aspect made it a bit risky, rather dangerous and very exciting. Often we would go someplace and one of us, or both of us would do something highly sexual and then one or both of us would cum there. Then we'd drive and do the same thing in another place. After two or three orgasms we'd head back to his house and often plan to be done and clean up, but just as often we would fuck once more. I left a lot of cum drops all over the place in So-Cal during this phase.
As we played outside the safety of Mr. Carlton's house I learned the difference between passable and fuckable. I was passable and appeared totally femme, but if I spoke there was an unusual and erotic aspect to my voice that caught people's attention because it was just a bit off for a "girl" my age. My voice suggested I was anything but average, and my voice plus my slutty look suggested I was a whore in heat. I was still fuckable. I might not have been totally femme, but I was definitely totally fuckable.
I was mortified the first time I saw the reaction with a stranger trying to figure me out, but I got over it quickly. After about the first five times I became very comfortable interacting briefly with people and accepted that more than likely they would question my true sex. Mr. Carlton seemed to expect this and encouraged me to try harder, but also tempered my expectations. I accepted sexy and fuckable over passable, though I never stopped working toward perfection. After the first few encounters I sank to low confidence and then with Mr. Carlton's simple matter-of-fact encouragement I got over it and improved.
Soon I was comfortable being seen and interacting with other people as a young lady, not necessarily a naughty gurl until I said something. For example, we would occasionally get food at a drive-through. Mr. Carlton would be polite if it was a gen-girl, but if it was a boy or young man he'd have me thank the person at the window using my best femme-voice and mannerisms. After I did we'd watch the reaction, depart, and discuss the lustful reactions and expressions as the guys tried to figure out what the deal was.
Often we'd both get worked up at the exhibitionist-like experience and he'd rub me or make me suck him off as he described what he imagined was going though the poor guy's confused mind with what he saw. I recall him stroking me and probing my fuck-hole and saying things like, "Oh, fuck yes, he wanted to fuck your mouth...he saw what a hot little whore you are and he's going to jack off thinking about the little red-headed schoolgurl whore later tonight."
One evening Mr. Carlton stroked me hard right up to the fast food window cashier could see into the front seat and then had me cover my crotch at the last moment. The cute 20-something-year-old guy of indiscernible race must have seen my tight pole-tenting micro-miniskirt and he looked me over and figured out EXACTLY what I was. He took the money, a minute later handed us the order and proved he knew what he saw saying to Mr. Carlton with a knowing smile, "Your special little gurl is amazing, I am sure you'll have a great night." That night we were both so excited by his reaction and essentially being caught that he drove us a few blocks and turned into a nice residential neighborhood, pulled between two cars and a tree to our right rear and got out.
Mr. Carlton briefly had me suck his cock and then stood me, turned me, and then pinned me against the rear passenger fender and fucked me for about a full minute before he came up my ass. We actually went by that same restaurant several times to see if the guy was interested in playing with me. I was reluctant to tell Mr. Carlton how much I secretly was hoping he'd be my first stranger-sex. I'd masturbated alone at night with him as a main part of my fantasy numerous times. Alas, it was not to be. We never saw him again and I have always wondered what Mr. Carlton had in mind if we had seen him.
Our field trips were always fun. Sometimes we went to a park, others we visited a beach overlook, and once we simply just drove in circles in the downtown area and then into Hollywood. That was the first time I saw actual prostitutes. They were real women for rent and they were actually disappointing. Too many were haggard or twitchy or just "off" a bit. Still, it was fascinating and exciting that it was real sex trade. Occasionally we saw a hot girl, but more often there was just something faulty about whores. The next time we went through Hollywood we cruised the boulevard and then came back up Santa Monica boulevard. This was far more exciting. On Santa Monica we saw a total of three actual transsexual prostitutes, trany-whores. I was in awe. These gurls were, if not totally hot, at least not screwed up looking as the gen-girls on Hollywood Boulevard were. They put effort into their looks and had a vastly different erotic appeal. Though I always wanted to stop and interact with them, I never told Mr. Carlton. I feared that I might put a bad idea in his head and find myself outside the car as he drove off. Later, that stretch of road was an attraction too hard to resist, but I wasn't quite there yet.
On one field trip we got caught in a park with a fuck-scene that had to look to resemble some older man fucking a little school girl. We were near one of the walking-trail park lamps that anyone nearby couldn't help but see I was his fucktoy. What he saw was this. I was dressed with a white blouse over a dark blue knee-length skirt, red hair, and a generally less-than whoreish school-gurl look. My knees were spread wide on the hard bench with my skirt pushed up and over my perfect bubble-butt. My creamy ass was spread wide and pointed upward to meet Mr. Carlton's hard cock and pelvic punch. My torso was roughly bent over the picnic table and "daddy" or some other improper-aged man was pumping me deep and hard from behind.
The older man who caught us was walking his oddly-quiet eager puppy-dog in the woods on another trail uphill and above us. He was headed toward the the main park area Mr. Carlton's car was parked, but must have heard our sex sounds and probably my fuck-moans. I recall that I was about to anally-cum as this occurred. I was on edge, about to reach down and make myself pop and was probably saying, "Yes! Yessss! Fuck me harder!" Then we heard some movements through dry leaves that turned out to be his one-year old hyper Black Lab off the leash, tail wagging at finding new friends to greet.
The puppy's arrival was quickly followed up by the less-than agile older man headed downhill toward us and crashing though brush about thirty or forty feet away. I saw his dog looking right at me, mouth smiling in the odd way some dogs do. The dog was crashing through the dry leaves on the other side of a small dry stream bed trying to figure out how best to come across and meet the new friends he'd found. The puppy's master stumbled downhill toward the dog and us on the shallow rise across from him. The older guy called out with concern in his voice, "Are you ok?" He sounded like a concerned neighbor and was looking at me when he called out. But we quickly stopped and started to make our exit as fast as possible. I pulled my panties up and pushed the long skirt down. Mr. Carlton zipped up, nearly catching his scrotum, and we both kinda ran from the area. "Kinda" ran because that night, like all "park" nights I was wearing high-heeled calf-length boots with wide heels, not stilettos, so I was actually able to move pretty quick. I beat Mr. Carlton to the car by almost a minute and waited in a panic, searching for on-lookers as I waited. The lot was empty. As we got into the car the puppy-dog, friendlier than ever, reached us and sought it's expected petting from me as Mr. Carlton got in the car to get us out of there. We left as quickly as we could, carefully missing the curious friendly pup on our way out. Fortunately Mr. Carlton had parked in a way to allow our fast departure. If the man had been faster he may have gotten the plate number and the whole situation could have gotten ugly fast.
All of these experiences were exciting but they also had other unexpected effects. My personal confidence developed and I became more outgoing. The unknown guy in the window of the fast food store and some other "nosy neighbor" guy that caught me rising up off Mr. Carlton's cock with a mouthful of cum were etched in my mind as sexual milestones. One day in mid-December, about a week before holiday break, he drove me past several adult theaters and talked in great detail about what kinds of delights were occurring inside as we drove by. I had no idea that they existed and my imagination ran wild. The next Monday, on my back and looking up at him as his cock popped me on my bed in the sex loft Mr. Carlton made me cum as I begged him to take me to a theater, I said, "I wanna be your little gurl whore in....uh uh uh.... in...the movie theater." Begging like that sealed my fate.
Four days later, Friday, at noon we were released from school to start winter break. I took my bicycle home, dumped my book bag, left my mom a note saying I was with a neighbor k** and was headed up Mr. Carlton's stairs as fast as I could make it happen. I wanted to have a five or six hour playday with Mr. Carlton and privately hoped a specific friend of his might show up and fuck me with his big Latino cock.
I got there and...nothing. No Mr. Carlton and certainly no kinky couple and no hot Latino friend. Nobody to fuck or play with.
Except, there was something. When I went to my room there was a note and things laid out for me to wear. The note said, "Don't take too long with your makeup, we have someplace to be and it will be messed up shortly after we arrive. Meet me in the car at 3pm."
I had well over an hour to get ready, so I did. Over time and practice my routine had changed a bit. Now I started in the bathroom cleaning my sex-hole and preparing it as well as possible. I douched until I was clean and then I lubed myself as deep as I could. Then I went to the bedroom and dressed to then return to the bathroom and complete the preparations with makeup and any last minute cleaning or preparing. That Friday, since I had some time, I was meticulous. I cleaned out my insides, lotioned my outsides, I put my plug in to stretch my cunt a bit and condition it for daddy-cock...or hopefully cocks! In the bedroom I found a set of naughty stretchy black Lycra lingerie consisting of a garter belt, thigh-highs, and a bra. I had sheer-white see-through panties, a tight dark-red, perhaps burgundy, sleeveless top with a "V" neckline that revealed my black bra, my calf-length boots, and finally a black flowing miniskirt that stopped exactly at my stocking tops. Topped off with my newest shoulder-length red haired wig, I loved the look and I was both passable and totally fuckable.
Once dressed I sat and stroked myself beginning to edge and enjoyed one of my favorite of Mr. Carlton's home-made TS-fuck movies. As I waited and stroked my mind wandered far and wide as I imagined what the surprise might be. I got in the car on time and the adventure began.
Just ahead of four in the afternoon as the work week was ending and "Friday traffic" began to increase Mr. Carlton pulled just past one of the adult theaters he'd shown me during our drive a week or so ago. I immediately recognized it because he'd made me stop sucking him off long enough to see the front sign and the door as people went in.
Mr. Carlton stopped and prepared to parallel park and paused as he held up traffic and took a long look at me searching for my reaction. I beamed with enthusiasm and he smiled and parked the car.
He took out his wallet and then he firmly said, "You begged for it and so, today is the day. You're going to the theater."
Adrenaline shot through me. Knowing I was possibly a bit young for the place I was shocked and excited all at once. Then he explained how this would work. Then I became a bit scared.
Mr. Carlton said, "So, I have been here a lot over the years and I know this place, but here is how we will work this. I will leave and go in and I'll see you once you're inside." He paused to see me grasping what he said, then continued, "You will wait here until my watch, I am leaving it here, says 3:55 pm. That's six minutes from now." He handed me a five dollar bill and continued, "You will pay your way in with this five dollar bill and go straight back into the theater where I will be looking for you. It will be dark, so I will try to be just off to the left as you enter, ok? Do you have any questions?"
I understood.
He smiled and reminded me to lock my door after I got out of the car and then went in.
Five minutes was a long dreadful time. I worried about everything. I was deeply concerned that someone would notice me alone in the car and ask me what I was doing. I imagined how I would have to say, "Oh, waiting to go have sex in the adult theater... Yes, I am a gurlie-boy...no, I am not from this area..." Then I worried about what if I fell down and hurt myself on the sidewalk on the way in.
After dealing with the myriad of possibilities, I exhausted the utter helplessness of my situation and embraced the uncertainty...for about a minute, and then it was time.
At 3:56 I was in the theater lobby and adult-sex shoppe. After stepping form the late fall afternoon sun my eyes had to adjust to the dim brassy lighting. At first I couldn't recognize the "box-office" and shop counter. Built strong and elevated to watch over the merchandise, there was a dim light inside the pay window and a man in coke-bottle lens glasses looked out at me. The small shop of sex toys and porn movies inside the lobby area was also a bit overwhelming. I'd never been in a sex shop so everything caught my attention. I was distracted by all the new environment had to offer. Then I saw myself in a mirror and recalled what I was doing and got back to "business." I stepped to the counter looked up at the clerk and, without a word, I handed him the $5 bill.
Only a short distance away, I could see him better now. He was a bit older, a bit heavy, and seemed totally at home in the troll-like darkness.
He said sternly, "What the hell is that for?"
I mustered my smoothest femme voice and said, "I'd like to go into the theater, please."
He stood from a stool behind the imposing counter. He looked me over like I was a piece of meat and said, "Oh, a gurlie-boi." He smiled and said, "Very cute, but do you have another dollar? It's six bucks on Fridays."
Later, I discovered that motherfucker was utterly lying to me, it was always $5.00. Always. Fucking always! But at the time, after realizing how helpless I was in the car, I nearly melted down. Of fuck, I thought. Mr. Carlton had shorted me a buck. How was I going to get him to give me another dollar? Wait, he doesn't want to have people know I am with him, for obvious reasons. Oh fuck! My mind raced and I was a bundle of nerves.
The man behind the counter noticed and lowered his voice a bit. Perhaps it was supposed to calm me, but I was beginning to freak out. I had locked the door to the car and everything. What the heck was I going to do? I actually wasn't as much into swearing back then.
Now leaning further forward and able to see all the way down to my shoes, the clerk said, "Well, honey, if you want to go into the theater you need six dollars, and, since you look kinda young you will also need to prove you are old enough to be in the theater. If you can prove that I will front you the dollar and you can owe me. So prove it, window shop, or...you can get out."
I stalled with a cute smile and asked him if I could look for a friend in the theater. He laughed at the absurdity, then declined, and then reiterated that I needed to prove I was old enough.
Several times I pleaded. He repeated his "No" reply and each time he added that I needed to prove myself.
Finally, I bit. "So, what do I need to prove myself?"
He smiled in a somewhat evil way. "Well, why don't you step up though that door and come around to my counter and prove to me that you belong in that theater." Off to my right something buzzed and a panel popped open and became a door. I paused for a long moment and then complied. I looked up at him and gripped the heavy metal security door edge pulling just far enough to step through. I carefully stepped up three stairs to his platform in my well-groomed "strutting" manner, even though I felt nothing like strutting at that moment. I imagined that he wanted a blow job and prepared myself for smelly body odor, a small dick, and oily thighs and balls.
He sat on his stool, turned to face me and said, "Ok...good...turn around and let me see all of you."
I turned and showed my goods. The skirt gripped my ass and hips so well that I felt his light caress of my hip down my ass and then to the top of my stockings as if he were touching my skin. He pinch-groped my ass hard and said, "Fucking hot!" As I completed my turn he noticed my little bulge and he pinched my cock through my skirt. I realized that I was turned on despite the desperate situation.
I couldn't help but look over and smile at the compliment.
"Sooo," he said slowly, "Don't tell me your name or age or really...anything... about you. If you want to get into the theater you gotta get down under the counter and take care of me and show me you belong back there, I'll let you owe me the dollar, and you can go in. Ok? Deal?"
I looked him over and decided that he was by far the most unkempt, least fit, and least appealing man I had ever considered being a slut for. I weighed my options and decided I had none. Then, like a bolt of lightening, I realized that, at least in part, Mr. Carlton had planned this, so, I went with it. I stepped over to the counter and knelt down to ease forward and then pivoted back around to face his zipper and his meaty cock. He lifted his dark grungy t-shirt and his cock was already out. He'd had it out the entire time I'd been speaking with him.
I became excited at the realization and leaned in and accepted his smooth cut slippery cock between my lips. I went down on him and he moaned his approval. I slid down his meaty six inches and hit his pungent pubic hairs. I went back up and down on him fast and with a twist, working hard to get him off quickly. He was a bit sweaty, but nowhere near as horrible as I'd imagined. His cock was meaty and actually kind of hot. I worked him with typical gusto, down nice and loose with a twist and then back up tight and smooth with my tongue going all over his shaft and then the head. I was pretty confident in my skills and thought that there was a better-than average chance I'd make him cum in a minute or two, so I worked him really well, but I was a bit too eager.
He knew what I was doing and held my head to slow my movements and make the blowjob last. He said as he brought my head up, "Slow down there Missy. Take it slow and deep. You suck cock good, but you need to slow down."
Then, I my inner monologue, as if Mistress K's sweet erotic and stern voice were in my ear saying, "Your purpose as a slut is to please the cock owner, your owner as long as he wants you and his cock is using you. That is what you are as a cocksucker." So, with that in mind, I complied and slowed. I went doooooowwwnnnn and then uuuuuuppppp over and over, twisting occasionally and rubbing my tongue over his head at the top, just as I'd been taught. Over and over, up and down I worked him.
About a minute that into the blowjob I heard the business door open and then about another minute into sucking him off I heard him accept admission to the theater and making change. I went down and silently held him deep in my mouth. I paused until he told me to "Keep fucking going you little bitch."
I heard the man buying access to the theater pause and listen to hear what was going on behind, or rather below, the counter.
On a whim I made a sucking noise on the next up stroke.
The clerk said, "Is there anything else you need? Condoms? Lube? Poppers?"
Nothing more was said, but I heard the clerk moan after a few seconds and realized that the customer must have moved. I kept sucking cock like the whore I had been groomed to be.
I kept sucking him off for several minutes and several more customers. Then he leaned back and pulled himself away form my mouth. He smiled down at me and said, "Ok, stop a second, look behind you and find the hand grips I screwed into the counter wall... behind you there are about ten of them all over the place. So, pick a couple of hand grips you like and...and hang on. I'm gunna fuck you, so, show me your ass you fucking slut." He chuckled, then added, "So, I know you belong in the theater, so...this is to secure the loan from me."
As if some deeply hidden sex-programming switched on, I heard Mistress K's domineering voice telling me to "Be his whore and present him your ass!"
I turned and found a myriad of hand holds. Most were metal cabinet grips, others were screwed-together blocks of wood in the form of horizontal "L"s. They were arrayed in a relatively symmetric order so that if you grabbed a cabinet handle, as I did, there was a similar handle at nearly the same height for your other hand. I gripped the handles and held just as my perky ass as properly poised for him to use. As I took hold I felt as he pushed my skirt up and pulled my panties down. Both hands caressed my ass with round circular cupping touches and then I heard his pants, weighted by his key rings and, I now noticed, a small pistol, make a loud "thump" on the thin rug of the clerk desk.
When I saw the pistol for a moment I was completely out of control of the situation, but that realization sent a shot of fear through me and then was just as quickly replaced with exhilaration as I realized that this was exactly the thing I had been prepared for my Mistress K and Mr. Carlton. I was a plaything and, since I'd learned to do as I'd been groomed for, so, mostly, I was excited. Now, largely unphased by the little black gun, totally high on sex, I went deep under the counter and presented him my fuck-hole. I was bent into a low "L", boots firmly planted wide and my hands and arms extended and holding for the pounding I knew would begin. I was also easily a foot below the actual top of the counter where he received payments from patrons. I loved being bent and presenting my ass like a sex toy.
As his cock pushed into me I expected it. As it opened me up and stretched me a bit I was very glad that I had pre-lubbed my ass as Mistress K had rigidly enforced with me. The notion that I was definitely out of control, but I was also prepared to be sexually "used" felt like a small victory and turned me on.
I felt his cock open me up and push all the way into my boi-cunt. He slow fucked me and went deep. Since I was in a nearly perfect "L", bent like a bitch, his cock was popping into my G-spot almost every time he pumped me. I felt myself in the moment and realized that I was already approaching orgasm. My cock was hard and swinging in time with his fuck-thrusts. I was getting close to orgasm already. I moaned and made gurlish noises that in the closed off space below the counter sounded much louder to me than to him.
Then, as he was fucking me deep and hard and increasing speed I heard a loud buzzer go off just to my right. The front door was open. He kept fucking me, but slowed and smoothed his thrusts. A customer interrupted us.
I was on edge and, though I was enjoying it the sex in many ways, the sane part of me wanted to be done with him. The sex-crazed part of me just wanted to cum. Either way, a customer interruption was not at all what I wanted.
So the guy came in and paid and was gone as fast as possible. No talking and throughout the business the clerk kept a slow-fuck pace going. As he took care of the patron I felt him lean down on the counter and imagined him, elbows on the counter, doing business while he slowly fucked me in the ass, his hips moving well out of view o f the customer.
Then, business completed, the hard and fast pace resumed. Then the fucking buzzer went off again.
The interruptions kept happening. Once the door was open and about four of five guys came in at the same time. Over and over this happened. A quick two-minute fuck stretched to almost twenty minutes. As the customers interrupted him he would slow or stop balls-deep in me. I began wondering if he was ever going to cum. Each time he slowed or stopped and held deep up my little asshole.
Then, at one point, when I thought he was going to cum, I pushed back into him and "accidentally" took myself over the edge and had my first hands-free orgasm of the field trip. I say "accidentally" because I didn't really mean to cum, but deep inside somewhere I wanted to cum. It was a hot orgasm too. Thick "First-shot" semen popped out in three or four throbbing hand less jerks of my cock and then I realized what was happening. I smiled a wicked nasty queen-whore smile and looked underneath my hips to see the show. I was cumming from a nasty man in the nastiest of places. So deliciously humiliating. I watched the thin liquid cum-line going down from my cock to the dingy floor. I considered gripping myself and stroking to intensify the orgasm, but I was too busy holding onto the hand holds and getting rough-pumped.
As my orgasm subsided and my cock merely throbbed a bit, the man was going quicker than he had in a few minutes. My mind briefly wandered and for about five seconds I pondered how many other, what, girls, boys, women?...men? had used these same hand holds...and why?
Then, all of a sudden I heard, somewhat muffled by the fact I was under the counter, "I'm gunna cum."
He stepped back and pulled out. I wasn't expecting him to cum anywhere but in my tight young ass. So for a moment I wondered why he was out of me. Then I realized that, like the "every time" part of being a gurlie-boy whore, like always lubing my ass when I get dressed, like always squeezing my sphincter tight for counter-pressure when a cock goes up my ass, like all the things I'd been groomed to do every time I was a dirty gurl, I was supposed to be doing something at that moment.
In a split second I knew what it was and acted. Exactly as taught, I pushed back off and away from the handles, backed up a little, and turned. I dropped to my knees, feeling a slight rug-burn abrasion that no-doubt was minimized because of my stockings. I slid into place and knelt to worship his fuck-slick cock. As groomed, I ass-to-mouth, or "ATM," sucked his cum-shooting cock. My mouth opened wide on automatic and I leaned into his slimy-smooth cock as he pushed forward like it was made for me. I closed on his girth and slid my whorish lips down his ample shaft as the first shot blasted into me.
I was ecstatic. Not only was I sucking off a stranger, I could tell I was as "clean as a whistle." I did exactly as taught and I felt the lube on my lips, fresh from my asshole. Then he came hard, his cock exploding in short nasty throbs- Bam, bam bam bammmmmmm....hold....
I accepted his cock deep in my mouth and his hands gripped my head and held me in place as he came. Then, after his cock-spasms subsided he released my head and I did what I was supposed to do next. Again, just like the well-groomed whore I apparently was, I slow-sucked his cock. I milked him a bit with slight smooth sucks in a slow forward and back, up and down blow-job.
I looked up and could see his entire face, even his eyes through the the coke-bottle lens glasses, smiling a nasty dominant dirty smile.
I twisted a bit and saw his smile drop away and a post-sex grimace as I continued rubbing his cock. The grimace unexpectedly flashed across his face and then was gone with a questioning look of "How did you know to do that to me?..Wow!" I sucked him slowly like I was groomed to do and completed the sex properly until he was done. He moaned hard and pulled back and then out of my cum-filled mouth he came.
A large drip of cum sucked out in the fast pull away from my mouth and slid down my chin and dropped to the filthy stained floor before I realized it was happening.
His eyes rolled back a final time and he leaned back and breathed deeply several times before he sank back down onto his seat.
Another customer came in and I paused, frozen on my knees, cum on my chin as business was handled.
Accepting theater fees was enough to snap him from his post-orgasm bliss. As the customer left the counter for the theater he smiled down at me briefly though his thick lenses and then took care of business.
After the customer had gone the clerk said, "I have owned this place a long time and you are without a doubt one of the best fucking gurlie-boi slut whores I have fucked. You are definitely ready to go in. Your fee is paid...in full." Then, still looking down at me he added, "You may want to freshen up in the restroom first...you have some cum on your chin."
I smiled and politely left the booth as the damn buzzer sounded again. I stepped out and headed for the restroom as the new customer looked up "catching" me leave the booth.
I looked over at the new customer who was checking me out and I thought to myself, "Be seeing you soon..."
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