Hidden Talent - My Wild Nature - A Story

[andyandie]

Thanks for the share

[JustANewbie]

Thanks so much for sharing this nice story, camping here for more updates.

[vicks]

"Oh God!!!' He realized what has happened as he looked at the motionless body of Adam, 'he will die,' he shivered. Then he heard a door banged opened and someone shouted, "What happened?" Alex traced his foot back and ran in the opposite direction, as fast as he can. He didn't stop running until he reached the main road and threw the rod into the grasses. Without looking back, he walked quickly towards his car.

After reaching a cafe, he was still shivering and then took a glass of water and sat down in the chair. After couple of minutes he started to think about his situation, 'has anybody seen him hitting Adam? will he die?' He trembled with fear and remorse as he realized that he didn't want to hurt anybody but if he dies no one will believe him and also the infidelity of his wife will be known to everyone. He found his situation glum.

Alex was still controlling his breath when his mobile rang, it was his wife. He felt his heartbeat increased and he feared for worse, nervously he took the call.

"Hello... Hello..." Julie's anxious voice filled his ears, "come immediately... someone has hit Adam and he has to be taken to hospital immediately." She spoke in one breath.

"What... Who has beaten Adam," Alex was dreading that someone might have seen him hitting him.

"No one knows.... Don't waste your time come immediately," she shouted.

Alex felt a bit relaxed knowing that no one knows about him. When he reached the spot, he saw a small crowd has gathered and someone has already tied a large cloth on the wound to stop the bleeding but Adam was still unconscious.

They put him in his car and some workers accompanied him to nearby hospital. Julie also insisted on accompanying and he could not persuade her otherwise. Someone also informed the police.

In the hospital, the doctors took him into a room while they waited outside. Alex now relaxed a bit and looked at his worried wife.

"How can someone do this," she spoke with a pain in his voice, "he is such a nice and obedient boy."

Alex just nodded his head, he was no longer angry but was feeling remorse. After sometime the doctors came out and everybody rushed to him for update, he informed that wound is deep but he has stitched it, the skull has a hairline fracture and could cause any damage which he cannot foresee now and have to pray that he regains consciousness as soon as possible. Julie insisted in calling the workers boss and informing Adam family and Alex called the workers boss. The boss just brushed off Alex and said not to worry and assured him that these workers always got into trouble and he will handle the police.

It was five in the evening when Adam opened his eyes and everyone was relaxed. Julie insisted on paying all the expenses for the treatment. Alex was more relaxed that Adam was awake and told that he could not see his attacker.

Afterwards the doctors assured that Adam was out of danger and will be fine in a week. As Adam was resting both Alex and Julie went home.

The next day Alex said that they need to go back urgently as he need to take care of some business. Hence Julie & Alex left the hill station without seeing Adam.
---
I would appreciate if bros can up my points so that there is some motivation to continue the story. Thank you.

[vicks]

Thanks to bros for upping me.

Part 3

I Julie was sitting on the bed in the small room, literally twiddling my thumbs and waiting. I was dressed in a black knee length wrap-around skirt and a snug white t-shirt that accentuated my boobs. There was no bra underneath (attached picture of me before removing my bra), so my nipples were poking through the fabric. A rusty old aircon was at full speed, making a low whirring noise. The room was still a bit stuffy. I got off the bed, and walked to the only window in the room, which was closed. Struggled with the tight bolt a little, finally slid it open, and opened the window. With my face against the window bars, I looked out into the night. There was some sparse traffic on the narrow street below me, not too much. As much traffic as you would expect close to midnight in the seedy parts of the city. I kept staring outside, shifting my gaze from the passing vehicles to the run-down buildings on the other side of the road. Occasionally, a mild pleasant breeze would blow, mitigating the heat in the surroundings.

I was standing like that for about five minutes when I heard the door open. A bald middle aged man dressed in a visibly old and slightly tattered shirt and a dirt-stained white pyjama (just like the bottoms of sleeping pyjamas, worn mostly by workers in china) stepped inside. I turned around and looked into his eyes, and he started back, his hands still on the door.

"Oh... I am sorry." the man said in an uncertain voice. "I think they sent me to the wrong room." and started to back out of the room.

"No, wait, wait!" I replied leaning against the wall. "I think you are in the right room. Come inside."

He just stood there, uncertain of what to say or do. Finally he managed to string some thoughts together and said,

"No, you see. I only paid $50 to the mamasan. I think you would charge way more. Actually.." he looked embarrassed "..I am not even sure you are a...."

"A what?" I asked, with a wry smile on my face.

"Well no offense.....a whore." he said, his face ashen with shame.

I took a few steps and was across the small room and next to him. With my finger, I beckoned him to step inside. Then I closed the door behind him. He just stood there, trying to comprehend the situation. I smiled at him again, walked towards the bed, sat on it, and pulled my feet up and folded them under my thighs.

"Well, I am not yet a whore. I do work for the mamasan. But this is my first time doing this." I said.

"You work for the mamasan? Really?" he said, looking around suspiciously.

"Yes, I do. is it difficult to believe?" I asked.

"This is not a joke? Not a police trap or something? Not some sort of a prank by the TV people?" he continued, still looking around.

"No, will you just relax? I am nervous as it is, what with this being my first time. You don't need to add to the nerves in this room." I tried to assure him.

He stopped looking around and looked at me. Then, for the first time, he really and truly looked at me. His eyes wandered down to my breasts and lingered on the nipples poking through the shirt.

Involuntarily, his tongue jutted out and ran over his lips a few times. His gaze then shifted down to the sideways curve of my hips highlighted by the wrap-around skirt. He ended his inspection by staring for nearly five seconds at my milky white, waked and smooth shins and calves. Inspection complete, he looked up at my face again, and said, "Wow. You...well... you don't really look like a whore, much less a $50 one. Even if you were to be a whore, I would expect you to be working with on of those Madams in highclass clubs and escort services, charging thousands of dollars a night. Don't you know that?"

"Yes, I know. In fact, I was offered two thousand dollars a night by one of those Mamasans if I worked for her." I replied.

"Two thousand a night? Oh my God!! So what are you doing here? Did the mamasan's goons kidnap you?" he asked, as he walked closer to the bed and sat down on it, still a respectable two feet away.

"No, I am here of my own will." I said staring down at my hands.

"But... why?? If you know what you are worth, why are you selling yourself short working for the mamasan for just $50 when you could be making".... he paused, seemingly to calculate and wondering as his monthly salary could very well be less than two thousand.. but probably could not and said, "when you could be making like many times more?"

"What's your name?" I asked him.

"Peerapat" he replied.

"Listen Peerapat. Are you more interested in eating the fruit or counting the number of trees the fruit came from?" I said. "How is it any of your business why I am working for the mamasan? You paid her $50 for a f**k, didn't you?"

"Yes."

"And you were sent to this room for the f**k, weren't you?"

"Yes."

"Right then. Let's get on with it." I said. Moved my hands to the seam of my t-shirt and with one swift motion, took it off and threw it on the floor. My breasts, constrained so far in the tight t-shirt, broke free and bounced a couple of times. Peerapat stared at them wide-eyed and hungry. And finally lunged forward, knocking me on my back on the bed. His rough callused hands assaulted my tits, pressing them so hard, it hurt a little. He then lowered his head and put his face between my boobs, and then started biting them all over, slobbering them with his saliva.

I looked downwards and found myself staring at his dark bald head, with a few remaining gray hairs. I put my right hand on it and started running it through the few hair gently. I placed the left hand on his shoulder as he continued his interaction with my tits. He was lying on top of me, supported by his knees. His crotch was pressed against my thigh, and I could feel the erection growing by the second. Finally, he was fully hard and straining against his pyjama. I moved my thighs sideways to rub his dick. He felt and looked up in my eyes, with a hungry smile on his face, his hands still grabbing my breasts like two huge mangoes. He squeezed my tits really hard one more time, smiled as I winced with pain, and got up.

"I don't know how I got this lucky, but I am glad I did. I am going to love banging you and making you scream, my dear." he said as he undid the knot of his pyjama and pulled it off. He also removed the tattered loose striped underpants he was wearing, and his dick sprang up. It was not too big. Maybe 5 inches, if a little less. Not much in terms of girth either. But seeing this old dirty man's hard cock fed my fetish and made me wet instantly.

He jumped on to the bed again and on top of me and his hands went to the waistband of my skirt. That's when I said to him,"Shirt."

"What?" he asked, surprised.

"Take your shirt off. I want you completely naked. I need to feel my big tits rub against your bare chest,Peerapat ." I said in a throaty breathless voice.

"Ooooooohhh!" my straightforwardness was clearly a turn on for Peerapat. He unbuttoned his shirt in a jiffy and threw it by the side. Now, completely naked, he proceeded to try and get me in a similar state. I doubted if he had any experience with wrap around skirts, and not wanting it torn off in the rush, I unhooked it while he was taking his shirt off. His fingers dug into the
waistband, and as he pulled, the skirt unraveled. He pulled it out from under my ass and threw it on the floor.

I was now on the bed under him, tits wet with his saliva, completely naked apart from the thong panties I had on. I often wear thongs with pant suits or tight skirts to avoid panty-lines. He stared at the thong as if he had seen it for the first time. Ran his fingers on the thong over my pink jade and under to the bottom of my ass crack. He then pushed me sideways to roll me over. I did, and my thong-clad butt came into his view, and his reaction was similar to when he had seen my tits. He leaned forward, started grabbing and pinching both of my ass cheeks. he pulled the thong down in one swift motion leaving it bunched around my ankles. I kicked it off and it fell to the ground. Peerapat then dug his fingers into my ass crack, parted both cheeks and ran his tongue up and down it, slobbering over my asshole, and making his spit drip down to my cunt.

Finally satisfied, he rolled me over again, and got on top, facing me, with my tits rubbing against his hairy chest. I parted my legs and he pushed forward from the hips, his dick first hitting my mound and then the inside of my thigh, searching for the opening. At the third attempt, he found the target and pushed hard. His 5-incher was buried inside me in just one stroke, as I gasped instinctively.

"Like it, do you?" he said hoarsely.

"Yes, I do, Peerapat. I love it. F**k me. F**k me hard!" I said as I wrapped my hands around his neck. The significance of his dick entering me finally sunk in. After weeks of dilly-dallying, self-doubt and prevarication, I had done it. Here I was being fucked by a smelly old man, like the $50 whore that I was. I was exhilarated, not just by the sex, but also by the dexterity of it all. Peerapat kept ramming me harder as I squealed in pleasure and he said between strokes,

"What....is.....your.....name?"

As I rode the waves of pleasure surging through my body, I completely forgot the fake name I had decided to give my "clients" in the brothel, and blurted out my real name -

"May!"

"May... you are a hot May.... you are my dream come true!" Peerapat said as he kept banging me.I wondered to myself if this guy, from a similar economic background as Tan, would last as long inside me as Tan had.

[vicks]

The build up to this night started two months back. Well, technically, it started almost a year back. It started on that rainy night (refer to the earlier part of the story in this thread) that I lost control and f**ked Tan and Subaru, the two mechanics from the kampung. I had promised them I would go back again, but I never did. I was scared of the consequences. What if they decided to blackmail me for money? What if they wanted me to be a permanent part of their lives? What if people came to know about this? I had too much at stake in terms of a reasonably happy marriage and a great career. There's no way I could go back to them, no matter how much my well meaning and sweet husband was unable to satisfy me.

However, the episode did bring back the slut in me. Before I fell in love with my husband and married him, I had had a very active sex life. I dated and even had some one-night stands. By the time I was in my mid-20s, and met my eventual husband, I had slept with close to two dozen men. I had one-night stands, became an expert at oral sex, did it anally, and even had a couple of threesomes and foursomes. But I had also had a couple of heartbreaks and bad break-ups along the way, and encountered my share of complete jerks.

So when I met Alex, he was rich and successful. He supported my career. In bed, he was decent initially. He tried hard, but did not have the natural talent or the size to be anything more than just an average lover but I suspected he had a lot of affairs during his business trips but I never brought it up. I decided that I had already had my share of wild sex, enough to last me a lifetime. So it was time to grow up and move to a more mature and what I then thought, a more satisfying phase of life. I fell in love, got married, and we had been happily married with kids when the rainy night incident & the incident at the hill station happened.

Both the incidents brought to light one undeniable fact - as great as my married life with Alex was, it was sorely lacking in the sexual realm. I had been in denial, pretending that everything was fine, but that one wild night exposed me to myself in more ways than one. I convinced myself, quite perversely I know, that the only way to be be happy with Alex for my whole life, and keep him happy, was to satisfy my sexual needs with other men. Many times, I considered telling Alex this, but from whatever I knew of him, he just did not seem like a guy who would be happy with an open marriage. He would be nice about my cheating on him, not lose his temper, but would firmly suggest a divorce.

So I would have to cheat on him. But it could not be with men like Tan and Subaru. It was all too risky, with the possibilities of blackmail and scandal. It would have to be done discreetly, esp with others from different economic class or social background so that meeting them or crossing their path is unlikely.

I had no idea what I was exactly looking for and how to move forward when Alex seeing me bored asked me to do a CSR project for one of the well known large corporations in which he was a director.

And then they wanted to do something different and hence assigned the prostitution research project to me. A British sociologist was writing a book for which he needed some research and information related to prostitution. He needed someone to interview pimps, mamasans and working ladies using some questionnaires and formats he had sent. The organization thought that a man would not be able to get working ladies to open up and be very frank, so they decided it must be a woman. That left me and a couple of staff assigned to help me, an older lady, and a young fresh-out-of-university girl. But the older lady opted out saying she would not feel comfortable, and although the young girl was all for it, her parents whined her out of it. So it fell on me. I asked my husband if he was OK if I worked alone, and as usual, he was very sweet, supportive and understanding about the whole thing. Said he trusted my judgment and that I can call him if any help is needed.

My brief was to talk to people in two different types of businesses that existed. One, the high class rings, whose clients were rich industrialists, office-goers(mostly middle managers who try to satisfy their fantasies) business men, tourist, sports legends, CEO types, and other moneyed sorts. These were usually run by madams and pimps who were well-connected at the top. The women who worked for them came from the middle or upper middle class, were college educated, spoke English, and very often were spoilt housewives trying to make an extra buck because their husbands had cut their allowances. The amount charged by those women for a night ran into thousands of dollars, enough to pay an entire poor family's bills for the year.

The other was the regular low-end working ladies. Many women were either forced or sold into the business and kept into it using threats and muscle. They were usually from poor families of neighboring provinces/countries/small kampungs and hardly educated. Their clients were people like drivers, waiters, construction workers.... in other words, economically lower classes.

And my job was to interview a lot of people from both these segments. I won't bore you with all the details of all the interviews. Suffice it to say that the interviews opened my eyes, destroyed many of my own myths and misconceptions, and made me empathize with the working ladies as well as their handlers in ways I had never thought possible. But more relevant to the story are two episodes which played the biggest role in leading up to what you read about in the beginning of part 3.

The first episode happened when I was interviewing Susan, one of the top mamasans. I met her in a five star hotel. I was surprised at how professional and executive-like she was. And how business-like her manner was. I almost fell of my chair when she very nonchalantly said, "According to our latest estimates, we have a 42 percent market share of the high-end-escort industry in the city, and our projections indicate it to touch 48 percent by the end of the year." It was as if she was on a news channel!

The interview went quite well. I got a lot of useful stuff. Finally when I got the answers to all my questions, I switched the dictaphone off, and started gathering my things.

"So May... how is your financial condition? Any money problems?" I heard Susan say to me. I turned around and looked at her and said,

"Excuse me?"

"I mean, are things OK moneywise? This recession is hitting everyone hard."

"Yes, things are great moneywise." I replied, unsure of where this conversation was going.

"Well, I just asked because..... and don't get offended. You are a very attractive woman. If you joined my little business, I am sure you could easily get two thousand dollars a night after my commission." Susan said.

"What???" I asked in a raised voice.

"Don't get upset. It's just an offer. It's up to you to reject it if you don't need the money. But a lot of women like you are on my payroll. Educated pretty upper middle class women who are having problems making car payments or mortgage payments. They work a few nights every month and everything is taken care of. And sometimes you don't need to sleep with anyone just give some rich old men company for their events or accompany some foreign business guests to tour or eat with them" Susan smiled.

"Umm...no...that's fine. I don't really need the money. Thanks for the interview, I should get going now."

Susan started laughing and kept laughing as I hurried out of her door. I was very outraged by her suggestion. Firstly, I really did not need the money. And secondly, I thought to myself, I may be a slut and sleep around, but I would never stoop so low as to actually have sex for money. How disgusting! And that's how it ended.

[vicks]

The second episode happened in the working ladies district. I had interviewed the mamasans, the bosses and some of the pimps, and they were all perfectly polite and respectful towards me. Had answered all my questions, shared some more information, and had gotten some of the ladies to talk to me. Most of the ladies I interviewed said pretty much the same thing. They got into this business because they had no choice or they were too poor, so or had family problems on and so forth.

The one interview that stuck in my head and got me thinking was with a woman named Terry. She actually seemed to enjoy what she was doing. She was not really from a poor family or small kampung, infact she was from the city. She had grown up in a middle class family and married a guy who was either gambling or getting into fights all his life. So out of boredom and to escape the stress she started cheating on him. Got caught, and her husband divorced her. She then stayed with one of her lovers without marrying him, but grew tired of him too. Finally, one of the guys she was sleeping with
turned out to be a pimp. He got her into this business and she loved it.

"Let me be honest with you." she said towards the end, "Sometimes I do feel guilty and cheap that I am selling myself for sex. But it also turns me on. I especially love having sex with the poorest clients - the $50 men as we call them. They are so rough, dominating, wild... almost like animals. In comparison, the educated and richer guys seem tame. I don't know why, but as a man is more and more educated, he seems to satisfy me less and less in bed. You probably won't understand.... but there's a perverse and intense pleasure in being a $50 whore for those wild, uneducated penniless men."

Somehow that struck a cord with me. And I realized why I had been so unsatisfied even after having sex with those other men in recent times. They were good in bed, but they were too gentle, too nice, too..... normal. Apparently, I did not want that. I wanted men like the ones Terry mentioned. Men like Tan and Subaru whom someone like me normally would not even look at, much less talk to.

Maybe it was the taboo of the situation. Maybe it was the masochistic instinct of giving myself up to ugly, uncouth and uneducated men. Whatever it was, that was what I wanted.

A week later, as I got off the plane in the city for the interviews there, I had given this a lot of thought. Weighed the pros and cons of my desires. The cons were fairly obvious, and the same ones that had kept me away from Tan and Subaru after that one night. the fear of getting blackmailed, and of my reputation getting besmirched and my marriage and career being destroyed. But as I thought about my recent visit, Susan's proposal combined with what Terry had said, and a solution presented itself in a flash of brilliance.

There was no better place to have sex with the kind of guys I wanted, than in the sort of brothel Terry worked in. Obviously, I could not go there, because everyone knew me now. Word would get out.

But no one knew me too well in this neighboring city. If I went to one of the many brothels in the city, and instead of interviewing people ...well...undercover, so to say... I could kill two birds with one stone.

I first finished all my interviews with the high class ring people. That took two days. I had 4 more days before my return flight. It was with an intense desire to go through with my plan, and spine-chilling fear and doubts over what I was doing, that I went to the lower class working ladies district that night.

My presence there drew many stares. The scene was similar to anywhere, ladies calling out for men, displaying their wares, houses with bright red lights and so on. Narrow street, with a lot of men milling around. Old ramshackle buildings with windows. Ladies sitting or standing trying to either attract the attention of the men, or then negotiating. And some pimps standing around, with some men around them trying to strike deals. I walked around a bit and got a lot of stares. In my formal pantsuit, I did not look like I belonged there. I seemed like some hotshot female investment banker who had walked out of the CBD office, taken a few wrong turns on the street, and was lost.

Most of the pimps were surrounded by many men. One pimp was talking to only one man. I saw the man give him back a stack of pictures, and $50. The man walked into the building, and the pimp stood there, whistling. I walked towards him. As he saw me approach, he stopped whistling and got a serious look on his face,

"Yes Miss, how can I help you Miss? Reporter, Miss?"

He had assumed I was a reporter. The only women who looked and dressed like me and came here must have been reporters covering some story or seeking "human condition" stories.

"I need to speak with the chief person here." I said.

"Oh, you want to talk to the mamasan?" he said. "Newspaper story? Interview?"

"mamasan is it? Can I meet her please?"

Five minutes later, I was sitting on a cheap imitation velvet couch in a clean, but garishly decorated room, waiting for the mamasan, i.e. the Madam of the brothel. Finally she walked in, and I stood up to greet her. The mamasan was an overweight lady dressed heavily. She was also wearing some really heavy make-up, and was smoking a cigarette. As I stood up, she motioned me to sit down, and took the seat on an armchair next to the couch.

"Yes, which newspaper are you from?" she asked.

"I am not from a newspaper." I said. I started to say something more but the words didn't quite come out.

"Not from a newspaper? Then what are you doing here?" she said, her chest heaving as she took another puff.

"I am actually...well.... this is a little embarrassing... I want to try this business for a couple of nights." I said. mamasan looked at me with piercing eyes, and said,

"I am sorry, we don't deal in gigolos. But I can make some calls to a friend and..."

"No, no. You misunderstood me." I looked around, then moved on the couch until I was very close to her and said in a low voice, "I want to work here."

Mamasan gave a start, just as she was taking another puff, and that made her cough violently. As her coughing fit subsided after a minute or so, she said to me in a loud voice,

"WHAT??? YOU??? WORK HERE????"

"Yes, mamasan." I replied as she stared at me with her mouth open. Finally she closed her mouth and then said,

"OK, I get it. You are some rich woman with money trouble and you think you can earn thousands of dollars a night in this business. Well, looking at you" she paused and checked me out for a few seconds, "Yes, looking at you, I would say you can. By my guess, you could make at least two or three thousand a night if not more. You are very pretty. Very pretty. And a great body too."

"Thank you, mamasan." I said politely.

"But my dear, you have come to the wrong place. We don't deal in that high class market. If you want, I can make some calls and get you in touch with them."

"I know what my worth is in the high class market, mamasan." I said, not believing how easily I had started talking business like a working lady. "I am not in this for money. I don't need money. I don't want to do anything in the high class market. I just want to be here for a couple of nights. Then I will leave this city."

The mamasan clammed up again, trying to compute this bizarre and unprecedented situation.

"Let me get this straight. You are clearly an educated woman, and probably a career woman. You say you don't need any money. But you want to work for me here for a couple of nights....as a working lady? Why? Just for the sex?"

I did not say anything. When the mamasan spoke next, it was in a very gentle and caring voice,

"Are you sure you know what you are saying? What you are willingly getting into?"

"Yes, mamasan, I do." I replied meekly.

"Okay well... I don't know what you motivations are, but you have come here of your own free will. I won't look a gift horse in the face. You are very beautiful. I don't get the super rich clients like those high class Mamasans do, but I am sure I can get some of my well-off Johns to pay as much as a two hundred for one time with you..."

"No, that is not what I want." I interrupted her.

"Excuse me?" she said puzzled.

"I am not here for your well-off clients. I want to be one of the women people pay the lowest amount...which is what $50?" I asked, and she nodded. "I want to service the $50 clients."

"Are you insane?" the mamasan said, "You clearly have no idea how this business works. We mostly have our oldest and not much wanted ladies working for $50. The kind of men who go for them are smelly, fat and uncouth barbarians, often old goats. they can be very rough and abusive."

"I don't care. That is what I want. Consider me as one of the $50 whores. And don't try to trick me by sending in men from whom you have taken more money just by telling them about me. I will be able to spot those men. I want the $50 guys only."

The mamasan looked at me with a shocked expression on her face, as if trying to figure out what was making me say and do all this. Finally she put out her cigarette in an ash tray and said,

"I think you are the most insane woman I have ever met. But fine, we'll have it your way. Tonight, you are a $50 slut. I won't try to upsell you to any of my richer clients. I'll send the abusive and crazy $50 guys to you. But trust me, one swift buggering from a burly giant who works in construction industry, and you'll either beg me to send you the richer clients, or then run off with your hands on your asshole."

I know she said what she said to scare me or warn me, but somehow the matter-of-fact way in which she described the scenario actually turned me on a bit. She asked me to accompany her and I followed her up a rickety flight of wooden stairs. She asked me if I wanted to wear the clothes I was wearing or change into something. I thought about how expensive the pantsuit was and opted for changing. She took me to a room with a cupboard full of clothes. I picked out a black knee-length wrap-around skirt and a white t-shirt that was actually one size too small for me.

"Remember to take your bra off too. None of the women here wear a bra while working. Your customers will never want to unbutton one or might not know how and might just tear it off."

I changed right there in front of her. The mamasan looked at my almost-naked body as I changed and said.

"Oh God... those buttocks... those breasts.... those legs... that milky complexion... you could earn enough to live like a queen if you wanted. I still don't understand why you want to exclusively service the $50 guys."

I didn't say anything. What could I say? It had taken me ages to come to terms with my own fetish with these "fifty dollar guys" as she called them. There was no way I could explain it to her. I folded my clothes, put them on a chair, and stood up, my breasts jutting out of my tight t-shirt. The mamasan led me up another flight of stairs and took me to a small room. All it had was a folding chair, a small table and a bed. There was a small sink in the corner that the mamasan told me I could use to wash up. Hanging next to the sink on a nail was a small handtowel.

"Let me ask you this one last time. Are you sure you want to go through with this" mamasan asked me. I paused, and genuinely did think it over. After about thirty seconds, I said,

"Yes, I want to do it."

"Okay, then. What name should I tell your clients for you?"

"Constance....Connie for short..." I said.

"Connie... OK...weird name." said the mamasan, clearly a woman unfamiliar with D.H.Lawrence.

She left, closing the door behind her. I walked around the room a bit, and then sat down on the bed waiting for my first client. Mostly excited and titillated, but somewhere inside, also disappointed at myself for willingly becoming a prostitute at a brothel, even if for a couple of nights.

To be continued...

[Informer]

really nice story TS, hoping for more.

[PoloRL]

Excellent updates TS, please keep going

[BK4ever]

this is a really nice story, more of it will be great ts.

[HorYiPeng]

Nice story TS, support!

[basfreak]

nice story TS, shall wait for more updates.

[VicBruse]

Keep it coming TS. Really exciting to read this awesome story

[lobangkingz]

really like this story, do update more. support your thread ts.

[vicks]

Back to Peerapat, I was wondering if he would last as long inside me as Tan was able to. I got the answer in the negative very soon as he started groaning, thrusting harder, and filled me with his hot liquid. Maybe it was the excitement and pleasant shock of fucking someone as young and beautiful and I daresay, unattainable as me.

"Ahhhhhhhhhhhh" he said, as he collapsed on top of me, without supporting himself on his elbows or anything, and I felt like my ribs would crack under the pressure. I pushed him off me and lay there....feeling the cum drip out of my pink jade. Peerapat stared at me with bloodshot eyes as I put my fingers into my pink jade and took out a gob of cum. I looked at it for a few seconds and then swallowed.

"Wow, you really are unbelievable."

I smiled at him and sat up. The depraved pleasure I got from fucking a sleazy man like this had been awesome, but he had cum too soon for my liking. I needed to do something about it. So I got on my hands and knees next to him and took his limp dick in my mouth. He started at me with a wide grin as I started sucking on it.

"Amazing.... you really are great at this."

I took his dick out, and put his balls in my mouth one at a time and sucked on them as he moaned in pleasure. Within a few minutes, I had gotten him hard again. Once he was fully erect, I turned around, still on my hands and feet, and thrust my ass towards him. With one hand I pulled a butt cheek and said to him "Peerapat... take me as you please... this hole is waiting for you."

Peerapat did not need a second invitation. In a flash, he was on his knees and pushing his dick into my sphincter. He was not very big, so it did not hurt at all when he entered. As he started ramming into my butt hole, I reached a hand back and started playing with my clit. This time, Peerapat lasted a fair bit longer. He kept ramming my hole for about five minutes after which he said he wanted to f**k my pink jade again.

I stayed on my hands and knees as he took his dick out of my asshole and plunged it into my soppy pink jade. He then pulled my hair and held me like that, my head facing up as he increased his tempo and kept f**king me as if he were riding a horse. Five more minutes and he started cumming inside me again.

After the f**k, I sucked his cock clean. He then spent about 15 minutes attacking my body with his pinches, bites and licks. Finally, after biting my nipples really hard one last time, he got up, and started getting dressed.

"I guess my half an hour is up. Don't want to mamasan charging me double. By the way, I want to say something." he said.

"What do you want to say, Peerapat?" I replied.

"I don't know how or why a elegant lady like you is a $50 whore.And I don't care. But one thing is for sure. I have f**ked many whores before.... but all of them were just women having sex for money. You my dear," he said as he came close to me, caught hold of my hair, and pulled my head up until it was close to his face. "You are the first real whore I have fucked. A true $50 whore."

And then he slapped me hard on my face. On one cheek and then another. I sat there stunned as tears welled up in my eyes.

"No need to cry, $50 whore." he said and then spat in my face. His spit hit me on my stinging right cheek. He then started laughing as he pushed my head away and dragged my hips closer to him. And then he started spanking me. Hard. Really hard, even as he kept laughing. These were not playful spanks. These were administered with force and were meant to hurt. Finally, after about 20 blows to each of my ass cheeks, he stopped. Spat on my butt, and started walking out.

I had never been manhandled like this ever in my life. I lay there, weeping, my face hidden in my arms. Peerapat opened the door and as he walked out, I heard him say, "Nice one mamasan. Really good bitch, this one. Next time I come, I want only her. And next time, I am coming with a friend."

"As you say, Peerapat." the mamasan replied.

She then walked into the room. I looked up and saw her alternately staring at my face and my butt, both of which were clearly red.

"So, had enough? Is your high class fantasy fulfilled? I am sure you want to get out of here now."

I stopped crying, got up, went to the sink and started washing my face.

"This was Peerapat. The girls say he likes slapping them around and spitting at them in the end. And you know something? He is still one of the preferred customers. One of the less barbaric ones.

If you think Peerapat was bad, wait till you see some of the others."

I took the hand towel and wiped my face clean. I also wiped off the sweat on my ass and the cum dribbling down my thigh. I finally went and sat on the bed. Even I was shocked at the words that came out of my mouth next,

"I am ready for the next guy."

The mamasan didn't say anything. Just stared at me incredulously for a few moments. Then shook her head, turned around and walked out of the door.

to be continued...

[3rdFifth]

Very nice, do keep your story coming!