Chapter 13 - After School Job

Sex shops had always made me a little uncomfortable. After all, it wasn't too many months before that day that it was illegal for me to walk into one. Those same number of months ago I would've responded to every sight with a recoiled gasp of shock, a complete stranger in a world that I had yet to discover. But even that day, so many months after completing my slut training and such familiarity built within me, I was still a little unnerved by everything all laid out in front of me all at once.

Mostly the people; despite all of the things I had done I was still somewhat shy and insecure when it came to public places. Sure, when I was leashed and dressed to delight I knew fully how to showcase my body and make the most of my modest looks, but put into any normal social situation and the timid girl with braces was all too ready to make herself known. I could go from begging to be fucked while covered in sweat to murmuring every last word and avoiding eye contact, simply because by then, sex came more naturally than ordering a meal at a restaurant. Still, it was something that I knew I had to do. I had to endure the odd glances of men in the store, each one looking up from their line of outdated porn DVDs and staring up at the awkward sight of a Japanese girl in their territory. I had done what I could to play down the full effect; wearing jeans and an unflattering turtleneck sweater instead of my schoolgirl outfit, but I was still a teenaged girl with dark black hair and clear Asian lineage. I still had glasses, and if any of them would've seen me smile they would've seen I still had braces. Even though my life had become a wonderful parade of getting fucked to my very core, I still felt a bit like I was dunked in a shark tank every time I stepped foot in a sex shop.

Thankfully, the front register wasn't far off, and when I approached the counter I was greeted by a man and woman that seemed well balanced and normal. To them it wasn't some dark and exotic place but just a job, and their normal tone was enough to help put me at ease, no matter my reasons for being there.

"Hey there, kid." The woman spoke up, her voice grainy as if she had smoked too many cigarettes that morning. Or her whole life. She looked to be in her late thirties and while I wouldn't call her unattractive, she probably felt safe even in the shady environment. She was plain, even more so than me, and that plain appearance really didn't do her many favors surrounded by gorgeous naked models on posters for the "best cockring in the US." She levelled her gaze at me and gestured towards the store beyond her. "Haven't seen you around before. Movies in the back, toys in the front. Lookin' for something for your boyfriend?"

"Actually, uh…" I took a breath, collecting my nerves. One of my hands moved up and I toyed with some of my hair, threading my fingers through it and fidgeting nervously as I tried to collect myself. "I'm, uh…" As I imagine any woman that worked at a sex shop would have, the one behind the register was precious low on patience.

"Look, kid, this is a business." She grunted, drumming her fingers on the counter. "We don't have time for lookie-loos, if you're just another girl whose friends dared her to come into the big scary sto-"

"I'm here about the job!" I suddenly blurted out, and I saw her expression change to one of shock. My voice calmed as I fidgeted once more, and I spoke to clarify with a quiet, subtle tone. "...the...back job. We talked over Email this morning."

The woman and the young man beside her exchanged glances, as if clearly not believing what I was there for. When the woman finally turned back to me she gave a slow and grainy sigh, before holding out a hand and wiggling her fingers impatiently.

"Yeah, I'm definitely going to need to see some ID on you." She said plainly and simply, and in truth I couldn't blame her. The real reason I was there was shady enough with an already possible danger of getting caught, and if I was underage it'd be more trouble for everyone. I nodded eagerly as I fished a hand into my jeans, pulling out my driver's license and handing it over. Neither the woman nor her friend said anything as she turned to a small device on the counter; a machine designed to authenticate licenses to make sure no kids ran off with dildos. A good policy, I suppose. She didn't even look at me after I handed her the license, but I could tell from the gaze of the man behind the counter that he was at least...entertained with the reason I was there.

I'd probably be seeing him again later that night.

"Well, damn, you're legit." The woman finally nodded, and handed me my license back. "Come on, Kim. I'll tell you how shit works around here." She pointed for her assistant to remain behind the counter before she started to walk, and I tailed along closely behind her. We passed through the path of least resistance through the store, taking alleys through rows of DVDs nobody was interested in, likely so no one could overhear our conversation.

"Name's Betty, kid. Nice to have you join us." She glanced over her shoulder, smirking a little. "Even if it's only for a night. You're sure you're up for this kind of work?"

"I...need the money for college." I responded quickly. A blatant lie. Between my academic prowess and the fact that I was fucking three teachers and had given a sloppy blowjob to the principal, it was pretty clear that I'd be getting a scholarship. I had already been in the contention for several before my experiences with Mr. Poln started, and the fact that I could suck my way through recruiters only improved those chances. Still, old Betty didn't actually need to know my real reasons. "You pay well, right?"

"Everyone that comes in gives us a hundred bucks." Betty offered, shrugging. "Of that, you get twenty. Most girls clear two hundred a night just from that."

"Twenty percent?" Truthfully, the money didn't concern me, but it felt like it would be suspicious to not question it. After all, any girls about to do the job I was about to do would most certainly want the most money they could get. "That doesn't seem fair, considering I'm doing most of the work." The noise Betty made, somewhere between a grumble and a snort, told me that it wasn't the first time she had heard the complaint. She waited to respond to me until we made the corner of the back room, down a dark turn towards where the customers weren't usually allowed. There she stood beside a single black door that was only openable with a key; a key she had fished out and now held pinched between two fingers.

"You want more than twenty bucks per job, go hit the streets and see where it gets you." Betty responded bluntly, and waggled the keys. "For giving us our cut you get a safe place to do the work, and we keep an eye on the customers. If someone takes too long or looks like they're going to be trouble, we're on them. We also screen them, make sure that only good clients come around. You really want to suck off some disgusting fuck that hasn't showered in three weeks?"

"Uh...no." I admittedly honestly, making a sour expression. Betty nodded at that, and smirked.

"That's what I thought. We only send guys back that are on the upside of normal. No freaks. No unwashed cretins that managed to pull a hundred bucks together." With that Betty turned and started to open the door, continuing to speak as she did so. "There's a button in the room; if you run into trouble push it and it'll let us know at the desk. Sometimes guys will throw money in the hole afterwards. Those tips are all yours, kid. So I hope you know how to work a cock and earn them."

"My ex-boyfriend said I was good." Nearly every part of that was a lie. I never had an ex-boyfriend. I never had a boyfriend. And the closest thing I had didn't say I was good; he said I was fantastic. "Good" was a step down for how well I knew how to suck.

"Heh, then I hope your ex visits tonight." Betty had no idea who she was talking to, but regardless she opened the door and gestured for me to get inside. I stepped in and as soon as my feet hit the floor she started to close the door again, calling out to me one last time before it shut. "Customers will start coming by in twenty minutes, and it'll last three hours. Good luck, kid!"

With that the door shut, and I was left in a room that didn't have enough space for me to stretch out longways. It was a tiny square that only afforded me about a foot and a half on any one side, sparsely decorated with a few pillows on the floor, a simple chair on another edge, and the aforementioned button Betty had told me about set against the wall. It was dimly lit by a string of lights across the base of the ceiling, though it was intentionally kept mostly dark so to keep the air of anonymity high. Just before me, leading to a room I hadn't seen during my walk through the sex store, was a single hole a few inches wide. Waist level, and leading into a room that was just as dark as my own.

I kicked off my sneakers and let my socked feet sink in against the carpet. I had twenty minutes to pull the pillows forward and get comfortable, for pretty soon I'd be working my very first glory hole.

I didn't tell Betty this, but the reason I had tracked down the event and sent out that Email wasn't because I needed the money. Sure, it was nice, and the responsible young woman in me was happy to pad my fledgling bank account with a few more hundred dollars, but the real reason I was kneeling there waiting for my first cock of the evening was that I knew I needed to branch out.

I had a healthy sex life, to say the very least. Between Mr. Poln, Mrs. Stahl, and my newest recurring lover Mr. Grace, I had been kept consistently satisfied almost every other day. But even then I knew that not all of my lovers would stick around, and that I couldn't always count on at least one of them being available. Every last one of them was married and I was technically a mistress to all three; or even less than one. I was at heart a teenage fling that just so happened to enjoy being flung between them, and never once had I ever imagined any odd fantasies of them leaving their respective spouses to be with me full time.

And hell, I wouldn't even of wanted that. Since my time with Mr. Poln I had come to truly embrace what I did. I liked being fucked, and I liked having multiple partners. I liked it when Mr. Poln would share me with his friends and I liked it when Mrs. Stahl would invite me over to her house to watch in secret while she fucked other students. I liked having multiple lovers, and I liked being free. Long gone were the days that I was kneeling on the floor of my history teacher's classroom sucking him off because he had caught me passing a note; nowadays I did that because I wanted to, because I craved it, and because I had a hell of a lot of fun doing it. I knew exactly what my relationships were and I knew exactly what to expect of them. Any of the other girls in my grade would've instantly thought less of me if they knew the secret of what I did in my free time, but in a great twist of irony I was more responsible, more enlightened, and more mature than any of them.

I wasn't about to get knocked up by some dimwitted quarterback and ruin my life early. And I wasn't about to settle, and be content laying on my back for the same uninspired fuck the second Tuesday of every month. I had been lucky enough to be sexually awakened at the joyful age of eighteen, and because of that gift I had a rare chance to enjoy every last thing my body could do. My holes had been trained. My muscles had been tested. I knew what I liked, and I knew what I didn't. I was in a better place sexually than any other teenaged girl that I knew, and I had my wonderful teachers to thank for it.

Teachers that understood what I was doing that night. Teachers that knew where I was and approved. One teacher in particular that had dropped me off so my car wasn't spotted in the parking lot. Thanks, Mrs. Stahl. I could always count on her for any request connected with my increased debauchery.

When the first cock appeared through the glory hole, I had almost been so lost in thought that I had missed it. All of a sudden it was right there in front of me, literally right under my nose as I contemplated my own sexual maturity. With a gasp I looked down at it and quickly drew my gaze over it; studying a nice, thick length that didn't need any buildup. With a giggle, I drew a hand up, my fingers coiling around the length and feeling it tense up in my grip. I knew immediately who it was, and I spoke with a teasing voice from within my tiny box.

"Just so you know, if they give you an employee discount that doesn't cut into my pay." I chirped sweetly, before moving in to wrap my lips around the tip. It had to be the young man I had just met at the register; a fact I deduced from the fact that it was still ten minutes early, and that he was already hard. While I was far from an expert at the art of working a glory hole I imagined most of my impending customers would need a little work, but the one that I swirled my tongue around first had already been given time to grow. It was something that I imagined was only possible if the cock in question had seen me before, and knew what was waiting for it behind the other side of the wall. I was content with that. He was cute, and if you were going to suck cock at a hole in the wall it was nice to start with a good one.

My eyes closed as I fell into a routine, a ritual that Mr. Poln and Mr. Grace had taught me. Thanks to my teachers I was practically an expert at the art of working a cock, of smearing my tongue around the wonderful shaft and of drawing it deeper and deeper into my mouth. He was a sensitive sort, I could tell that much from how he was trembling. Not that I blamed him; it was probably rough on a young man to be surrounded by porn all day, and I hardly suspected that Betty would be kind enough to ever give him any release. Oh well; that's what the glory hole girl was for, and the one they had that night enjoyed the thrill of it. My knees sunk in against the pillows on the floor and one of my hands pressed to the wall, giving me the leverage to suck him long and deep in thick, satisfied strokes. My other hand, still positioned around his shaft, worked itself down to the rim of the wall to make sure he never pulled entirely from my reach. Before long my grip was wet from my spit and it only forced me to tug him a little tighter, enough that I could hear his voice give a shuddering groan from the other side. My tongue was battering back and forth, working quickly around the tip of his cock and swirling all around it, sucking and slurping and simply savoring the experience.

Anonymity was a pretty sex thing, even when you knew what was on the other side of the wall. I could only imagine the thrill that would go through me by the time the real strangers started piling in, and I knew that after a while I'd probably end up stripping off my jeans. For now they remained on and I was content to simply be wet against my panties, the naughty delight of what I was doing already resonating deep inside of me. As I eagerly and hungrily continued to slurp at my very first customer I drew in a long, deep breath, and a smile forged its way around my mouth as I worked. Paid to suck an endless supply of cocks. Why hadn't I thought of this sooner?

When my very first client came I had to put on a bit of a show; I still wasn't entirely comfortable letting Betty and her crew know what sort of a depraved slut they had in the back room box. So when the young man's cock started to twitch and spurt I gave a sudden and surprised gasp, pulling my mouth from his length and continuing to get him off with my fist. His length pumped long and steady as his cum continued to streak across the air; missing my mouth but splashing quickly across my face. One slice of it from my brow to my cheek, crossing my glasses. Another into my hair, and sweeping over the edge of my shoulder. One last one I managed to mostly catch as I held my mouth at a distance; eager for the taste but not wanting it to be known that I was so wickedly craven. Once I had it in my mouth I swallowed greedily, and with his cum still crossing my features my new friend began to pull himself back out. He gave a grunt of delight that was a clear sign of his approval, and the very next things to pass through the hole was my very first tip.

I gazed down as they struck the floor below me with a thud, and I couldn't help but smirk. A box of tissues and a bottle of water, along with a ten dollar bill. The tissues and water were likely things he had been told to offer; likely tools of the trade. But the ten dollars went right into the front pocket of my jeans, nestled snugly in place. I had the perfect place for it.

To this day, I tell people that the framed ten dollar bill on my wall was from my first job as a barista in college.

I scooped up a tissue and started to clean myself otherwise; swiping his cum out of my hair before cleaning past my mouth and glasses. It was naturally tempting to drink more of his cream but I knew damn well that I had to pace myself; there was likely going to be plenty of cocks that night and each one of them would be ready to drink from. There'd be plenty more cum for me if I was truly craving the taste that night. As luck would have it, no more than five minutes later I met a new friend, in the form of my first true anonymous cock slipping through the hole before my face.

Excitement filled me as I found yet another stiff length ready to be serviced, proof positive that the job I had signed up for was indeed legitimate. My hand moved out and I gripped along a shaft that had yet to realize its full potential, and without a word I drew my mouth forward and began to flick my tongue rapidly back and forth across the tip. I could hear a guttural curse from the other side of the wall as proof positive that my newest friend liked the treatment, and I wore a thinly veiled smirk as I worked. He'd have no idea that it was the day he was sucked off my a pretty little Asian schoolgirl, still sporting braces and glasses and still living with her parents, and that was part of the thrill of it all. I relished all of my intimate time with my teachers, but there was an exciting joy to striking out on my own. Sucking cocks that weren't ones I knew, and earning plenty of money for my age. Even though I was hardly in it for the income, it certainly beat getting a job working fast food.

My second customer didn't take long to build up; a few quick seconds of warm, pink tongue and he was already nice and stiff within my hand. I closed my lips around him and began to swirl my tongue around his tip, savoring the flavor and drawing him in deeper and deeper. Betty had told me that they screened their customers that went into the back room, and if my first anonymous cock was any indication that seemed to be the case. My client was clean and fresh and well bathed, and as a result I could truly enjoy the taste of his cock. As he pressed himself flush against the wall to make sure I could access every last inch I found myself sucking him down as far as I could, squeezing my nose and jawline against the rim of the hole and gurgling contentedly on his length.

I found myself wondering about my very first client, about what sort of man he was. Was he older? Younger? Married? Single? I fancied myself as an expert in the field of cocks even at that young age, but even I couldn't tell much from how he tasted in my mouth. The mystery ran deep and so too did the joy of it all, and I couldn't stop smiling throughout the entire first true customer that day. I was jerking him readily and sucking him down inch by inch for moments on end, until he finally realized he couldn't quite handle the attentions of an unseen woman. I could hear him gasp and tremble against the wall separating us, and this time I resolved myself to not waste any of his cum. Facials were fine and all, and I loved being on display with cum covering my face, but...when it was just me there alone, with no one to show off for and no one to be displayed before? I'd just as soon swallow down a warm, tasty snack.

I executed my favorite trick on him; squeezing my tongue against the tip of his cock just as he started to cum. It made it so that his climax wasn't so much a swift burst as a steady and slow seep of cream, a little trick I had picked up over the past few months to make a man's orgasm last a few fractions of a second longer. Those few seconds could make all the difference, or so I had been told, and it also made it far, far easier for me to swallow. Instead of his spunk firing squarely to the back of my throat it slowly melted around my tongue, filling my mouth in manageable loads that I could easily swallow. I groaned in delight as he gave me one, two, and three separate mouthfuls to enjoy, and the entire time I could hear him shuddering and whispering to himself about how good it felt.

I wasn't necessarily surprised when he pulled from my mouth, tucking himself back inside with one hand while reaching for his wallet with the other. I was still nurturing the taste of cum on my tongue when I saw another bill slip through the hole; this one clearly not drawn from the minimum wage pay of a sex shop employee. A crisp fifty dollars fell at my knees, and I arched an eye curiously as I picked it up from the carpet.

"Thanks, sweetie!" I called back through the hole, trying my best to add an inflection on my voice. Just in case. "And thanks for the treat!"

My client wasn't quite so talkative, and instead merely stepped away from the hole with, I imagine, a spring in his step. With the sixty dollars I had already made in tips and another forty waiting for me at the door, I had made a hundred dollars within less than fifteen minutes. Tax free, as I imagine "glory hole mouth" wasn't really a reportable occupation. Not bad, considering I loved the job so far. With a big smile I waited for my next client, licking my lips and drawing in a deep, excited breath. The jeans were feeling tighter now, but I wasn't quite ready to strip them away. Mostly because I was afraid of what I'd end up doing if I did.

The night went on with similar results, and even though the gap between clients stretched into roughly fifteen minutes in between each, it was perfectly paced to give me a rest in between. A chance to rest my mouth and sit on my rear instead of my knees, and even to take a few sips of water while I relished in what I was doing. By the end of the first hour I had sucked six cocks including my early two, and had earned well over a hundred dollars in tips. I had enjoyed six cocks, each one of them perfectly pleasant company, and each one of them giving me a tasty load to deeply relish and enjoy. I hadn't swallowed every last drop that was offered to me but I had certainly taken most of it in my mouth, always finding some way to have fun with it. At that point my favorite moment had been after a man slipped a twenty dollar tip through my hole and I leaned up against the wall, opening my mouth and dangling my tongue, showcasing just how much he had filled my mouth with cum. The murmured "fucking amazing" from the other side of the wall was an even better tip than the money.

Not everyone paid me extra, and I'll admit there had been a certain thrill to that as well. One fellow who had sported a sizeable cock had only given me a harsh "thanks, whore" for my tip, and while I should've felt some righteous indignation at it, it only made me a little more wet. You met all types working at a glory hole, and there was certainly a place for those just looking to get off for the entry fee. Who was I to judge? Even though his words had been dismissive and crass I was grinning at the sound of it; after all, I had gotten what I wanted from him. You couldn't slut shame a girl that relished in it, and the disgrace of being a whore for that evening was all part of the fun. Besides, the energetic young cock I had just after his on was thicker, more sensitive, and offered me a lot more rich, creamy cum. And he tipped better too; with a twenty dollar bill and a heavy thud of a bank roll of quarters.

I...hadn't really expected to be tipped in change, but to each their own.

I had stripped out of my jeans at long last briefly after the first hour, eager to slink out of them by that point. Underneath I wore a pair of simple dark panties that had already gotten damp from all the attention, and I was shameless in lowering a hand to fondly pet against my pussy through the fabric. The sweater I had worn, though nondescript and rather plain, had taken more than its fair share of loads that evening. Even so early into my task it was marked with cumstains and streaks on the shoulders and chest, so much so that I'd almost certainly have to wear a jacket when I got back home, just in case I ran into my mom or dad before getting upstairs. Not that it was likely; though. Thursdays were Mom's book club night, which usually meant Dad was sleeping on the couch by nine.

My attention was drawn by the sight of a new friend peeking through the hole, and it was enough to make me drool from the corners of a smile. A nice, long, dark-skinned cock suddenly appeared, and I swallowed hungrily as I moved out to grasp it. Without any hesitation and with a truly slut-like glee I threw my mouth across his length, parting my lips around the black member before me and taking it down as far as I possibly could. The man on the other side of the wall marvelled at my eagerness and my skill, and I could hear him shuddering through his voice as he pressed himself against the wall.

"Shit, didn't think glory girls deepthroated…"

If there wasn't that wall between us I would've shown him a lot more. I would've told him as much, but I wasn't there to talk. I slurped my mouth around his marvellous cock in several wild and deep thrusts, squeezing my nose to the edge of the wall and making quite the sloppy mess of his length. He was coated with spit before too long and his cockw as trembling with every lick, ribbons of spit and slop hanging from his shaft and landing against my cheeks, my chin, and my sweater just above my breasts. One of my hands remained wrapped around his length while the other tucked down into my panties; sneaking underneath the fabric so I could stroke and tease along my folds. I was wet and achingly desperate for more, and as my mouth held half his length inside of me, I finally had a brilliant idea.

"One sec." I whispered to my new friend, and continued to kiss and nibble along his shaft as my hands scrambled for my jeans. I flipped open my wallet and reached for something I always kept on me those days; the tightly wrapped package of an extra large condom. A small tear brought the wonderful layer to the forefront and I quickly started to apply it; working it across my new friend's shaft with speed and skill as he was left trembling from the attention. As he felt the snap of it across his shaft I could hear him groan in surprise, and to make sure he knew just what was happening I whispered through the hole with the same accented venom to my voice.

"You win the door prize, baby." I purred, starting to stand up. "You get to fuck the girl behind the hole."

It was a prize I'm sure he was happy to win, even if he couldn't quite say as much just then. Within the tight confines of the room I turned around, and one of my legs rose up to drop my sneaker against the edge of the short chair. I bent forward as much as I was able while I pulled myself into position, and already I could feel his thick length slapping across my thighs in eager anticipation. With a hand I reached underneath myself to search for his length, and once I had that mighty weight in my fingers I guided him forward still. With a soft tug of my panties to pull them aside I finally had the chance to guide him inside of me, and together we filled the back room of the sex shop with our staggered grunts.

Getting fucked through a glory hole was a unique experience. I had been blindfolded and fucked before; claimed by men whose identity I would never know, but there was something even more thrilling getting that powerful pounding through the wall of a sex shop. It was gritty and dirty and everything lewd and wicked; the very core of things that would mortify my parents if they knew what I was doing. My new friend had a wonderful cock that my slender little pussy was rather inviting with; after all, it had a preference towards thick, black length that could spread it tight and true. Even through the condom I'm sure my client enjoyed the feel of that warm entrance that greeted him, and without any hesitation or pretense we started to fuck against each other. My hands braced to the wall while I focused on shifting back and forth rapidly, doing most of the work while he kept his cock nice and stiff and spreading my folds. If my new friend got too active it would risk his cock popping out of my slit from the awkward position, and since we couldn't have that I was rather content as he simply stood there as a toy for me to fuck myself on. Each moan and whimper I heard from the other side of the wall was a delight for me to enjoy; a tip in and of themselves as proof of how much he was enjoying himself.

It was important to love your job, and even more important that your customers loved how you did it.

That one fuck through the sex shop wall was enough to make me cum three separate times; each one filling my tiny room with increasingly excited noises of delight. I grew tighter and tighter on his cock with every orgasm that rocked through me, and before long my tiny room smelled thick with the scent of sweat and deep, lewd sex. I squirted on the second orgasm; his thick black cock simply driving in too deep for my slender young pussy to endure. I squirted across the inside of my thighs down to the floor below; splashing against the pillows Betty had provided me and even soaking into my socks and across my sneakers. It didn't stop me for a second, and I just kept fucking until both me and my newest client were satisfied.

He came not long after my third orgasm, and I shuddered with my eyes rolling back in my head as I heard him start to release. I deeply missed the feel of cum splashing around inside of me but I could still feel the condom slowly fill, and when I prepared to pull myself off of him I reached a hand down to help guide it along. I made sure the condom remained on his cock until I was back on my knees, and only then did I get to marvel at just how full it was. A thick, weighty load...I would've loved to have had felt it in my pussy. Or my mouth. Or my ass. But some things simply weren't feasible when you were a glory hole girl.

I pulled his condom from his cock and gave the wet tip one more kiss, purring as I teased my tongue across the edge of it.

"Thanks for the fuck, babe." My voice slipped out once more, still teasing and accented. As I saw a few bills drop through the hole as my tip I couldn't help but give a little giggle, and my voice carried through once more. "Thanks, sweetie. Here's a little thank you treat."

Once more my mouth was pressed up against the hole to show him just how full my mouth was, but this time I was squeezing a very, very full condom out onto my tongue. I received the response I expected. Grunts, staggers of joy, and a voice of disbelief as he marvelled at just what a depraved whore was working behind the hole.

Betty had never, ever, had a back room girl like me. And she was going to know it before the night was over.

My evening continued and I was treated to cock after cock, each one with its own taste and trials. I had swallowed more mouthfuls of cum that night than I ever had before up to that point, and my belly had gotten pretty full by the end of the night. I had even let one more person fuck me through the hole; a young man who confessed to the unseen girl before him that it was his first time and he had saved up his money for the occasion. It was a bit of charity on my part since I'll freely confess he wasn't amazing, but it was still fun to know I had done something good for the community. I even tossed the five dollar tip he gave me right back out the hole again, and I told him to use it to buy flowers for a cute girl he knew. Truth be told, I was curious to see if anyone at school tomorrow got flowers, and who they were from.

When the final cock of the evening came for me it was the first one that didn't simply stuff through the hole expected to be immediately serviced. I saw a man's pants appear just before the opening and he lowered his hand first; offering his fingers through the hole as if to test if he had the right spot. I responded with a smile as I drew my mouth forward, and with my hands wrapping around his I pulled my lips across his fingertips, suckling against them sweetly and fondly to encourage him to the fact that yes, he did, have the right spot. After the treatment he pulled his hand back and without a word began to unzip, and I watched with wide and happy eyes as I saw a pleasant cock fall forward through the opening, a little pale but still juicy, plump, and long. There was potential there, and for my last client of the evening I was deeply eager to draw it out.

My hand moved out and I curled my fingers along the final shaft I'd see that night, squeezing it slowly as my mouth dropped against the tip and I started my routine. My tongue peppered back and forth across the tip as I started to jerk him to life; an easy task as I was soon to find out. Before long that pale member was sitting stiffly in my palm and his cockhead was resting keenly on my tongue, giving me a sweet taste of precum that drizzled down the head only to be swiped quickly away. He had a nice cock. Perhaps not the biggest I had enjoyed or the thickest, but a good, solid size that was steady without being too big. Though I had a particular fondness for large black meat I'd be the first to admit it could be a little trying into the late hours of the night, but the one that now rested against my tongue was the perfect size to enjoy for a long, long time. I gave him a few more pumps before pulling my head back, and I offered a few sweet kisses to his cockhead to thank him for presenting me with such a nice member for my final client of the evening.

At that point I was something of a mess. I had cumstains in my hair and had to pull my glasses off; my sweater was streaked with cream and even my thighs and knees were sticky. The pillows underneath me were marked not only with my own squirt but with the runoff cum of well more than a dozen different men; each one of them having dribbled from my chin or dripped from their tips. It was probably a good thing that my last client couldn't see me that evening; I was probably far more enjoyable to feel wrapped around his cock than to look at. With my brow lined with sweat and my hair an absolute mess, I wouldn't win any beauty contests that late into the evening, but I could still win any contest involved around wrapping my mouth around cum-spewing lengths.

I proved the latter to him that night, sucking him in deep and sloppy strokes and getting his cock nice and wet as I continued to suck him. Since it was my final of the night I decided to go all out, giving this last client the sloppiest, roughest blowjob I could muster through the opening between us. I deepthroated him as much as I could and well past the point of comfort; letting myself gag and cough around his length while his cock twitched and trembled at the back of my throat. When I could hold my mouth down on him no longer I quickly moved to jerking his sloppy shaft with one of my hands, my mouth instantly lowering to slurp in wild waves back and forth underneath his length. Ribbons of spit clung to his cock just as they dangled from my cheeks and my mouth, and no matter how messy and sloppy I made it I still didn't hear a thing from the client behind the wall. He was quiet; probably nervous. Maybe even married.

Not that I cared. All I cared about was that his wonderfully thick, delicious member kept hanging there before me, there to wrap my mouth around and there to savor every last, sweet lick. As my work continued the mess underneath us continued to grow; spit splashing against my sweater when it wasn't scooped up by my fingers, ushered down to pet and fondle along my slit. I was fingering myself throughout the entire process; rubbing my pussy in rough and twitching waves and switching hands frequently, making sure that I was always petting myself with fingers wet from spit laced with the taste of his cock.

I feel like we shared something that night, me and my final client. It was the one blowjob of the night where I threw myself fully into it, deeply taking him and giving it my all because I knew no one else could be after him. I didn't let him fuck me that evening but honestly I didn't have to; the wet mess that covered his cock by the time I was finished with him was better than any warm, tight pussy he could ever want. If he was really married I sucked his cock like his wife never had, and when he finally came for me I made sure to once more apply my favorite trick.

Tongue to the tip.

The slow, steady seep of cum.

I groaned as it melted around my tongue, and I was treated to the man's flavor filling my mouth. There was never any hesitation as I drank it down, milking his cock with a few steady tugs as I kept swallowing and swallowing load after load. I fingered myself to a throbbing orgasm in the same few moments in which he came, and even though he'd never know it he made the girl behind the wall squirt that evening. More squirt for the pillows underneath me, more wet nectar for the inside of my thighs. I was a sloppy, wet mess by the end of it all, fully used by so many men that evening but none quite so much as the last visitor I had. Even though it was just a blowjob and it had only lasted a few minutes I felt more spent after that session than I had the entire evening; more satisfied and more content, and more excited to drink his cum. I swallowed every last drop and kissed his tip fondly afterwards, practically making out with it before I allowed him to tuck it back. I didn't want to say goodbye to it, and briefly I had even considered inviting him to join me at a hotel.

If I would've been fresher and cleaner that evening, without wearing the cum of over a dozen men, I very well might have. I wanted that perfectly sized cock inside of me, filling me, cumming in me.

But it slipped through the hole once more, vanishing from sight as he tucked it back into his pants. I gave a disappointed whimper as I knelt there in my messy state, patiently waiting for the tip that I was sure would come. I had stopped counting all of my tips at a certain point, but I knew that I had earned well over five hundred dollars that evening just from tips alone, nestled into a corner with my discarded jeans. The final client of the evening took his time in delivering it; but soon I saw a crisp fifty dollar bill slip through the hole, and attached to it with a single paperclip was a piece of hastily ripped paper with a scribbled note.

I didn't have a chance to read the note before the man slipped away, and it was a good thing, too. I had got myself comfortable and was slipping my panties back on; every client for the night satisfied as I turned my attention to that last tip. As I pulled my hair back and started getting dressed my eyes passed over the note he had written to me, and as I did my lips turned from a coy smile to a look of dramatic, piercing shock.

"Best I've had in a long time." The note started off honestly enough, and it made me blush. I enjoyed the praise quite a bit, just like any good A student would. Just like when I'd cram for a test, my practice in cocksucking paid off when it counted. "I'd like to hire you for a few hours next week. I can pay well."

The rest of his words made me chuckle, and I didn't really give it much thought at first. I had just given him a wonderfully sloppy blowjob, and frankly I was surprised more men hadn't tried to hire me via notes in the wall. Though to be honest I wasn't thrilled at the idea of becoming a true prostitute I had certainly enjoyed his cock enough to meet him and fuck, and at the very least I thought it would be nice to hear him out. That last cock had been so perfect, so delicious, and given me so very many mouthfuls of rich, warm cum...well, I felt compelled to drop him a line.

When my eyes passed over the rest of his note, at the E-mail and phone number he provided, the paper slipped from my fingers. It dropped down to the cum and nectar-marked pillows below me, and my throat tightened in sudden waves of guilt, shock, depravity, and nearly every overwhelming sensation I could express.

I recognized that E-mail, and I recognized that phone number.

"D...Dad?!" I hissed out, the color draining from my cheeks as I stared down at the note resting in between my cum-marked, sore knees.

End of Chapter 13.

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