The Business and LennyMature

After I left that little speck of nothing Ohio, I moved to New York. After trying out for every drag bar in town and getting shot down by every single one of them. I decided how I was going to get out and that stage and how I can make that money we all covet so greatly, I was to become a professional escort. You can call it that, if your politically correct, but no one's going to get offended if I refer to it as it really is, a whore. You see, when I said that whole thing about 'run down old whore' I didn't say it just for the insulting connotation, my mother really was the town trick. I'd been around it my whole life so it was pretty natural to become a night walker. And I did it damn well, I surely did. I wasn't one of those bitches who discriminate, oh no. I loved all different kinds of sugar, whether it was with some old and crusty or young and small. I had one client, Lenny, who would scream out his wives name as I sucked his cock. Lenny was adamant that he should call me Eloise, his wife's name. I didn't really think it was his wife's name, in this twisted mind of mine I knew that he was calling me his mother's name. I didn't really care, Lenny paid quite well, actually he paid damn good money to me so I didn't care whatsoever that he called me his wife's name or his mother. Lenny had one tiny cock and he was very angry about it. When he would fuck, it was very much like he wanted to find my center. I think that his cock hurt the most because all he would do is stick it in, move it ever so slightly in and out for five “magical” minutes and then cum on my face. After working for 5 hours with a few choice clients, I made damn close to $2000.00. I would take long showers, long cold showers that I would stretch out for as long as possible. I would feel the grim and the spent cum slide off of me, the wickedness of my profession would slither down the shower drain. When I would leave the day behind me, I would slip into a silk robe and look into the mirror. When I was that young, my hair was blond and shoulder length, with green streaks and I would wear it up. I would pull it up and pout my lips, applying my pink glitter lipstick. As I stood there, I imagined myself in a different body. I saw my busty curves and my rose smelling vagina. Sister, I stood there and owned my imaginary body. Then I saw it, that dick of mine rising and at that moment, I wanted to grab the box cutter and take care of business right then and there, but I didn't.
The End

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