She bent down quickly, lifted her nude stiletto heel and pulled the small piece of toilet paper off the sole of her left shoe. She quickly checked the large mirror in the little ante-room that led to both the male and female bathrooms, the harsh and unflattering, almost clinical overhead lights making her skin look sallow and sickly. Her brand new black dress had a large crease that ran perfectly from tit to twat. Fuck, Valerie thought. She’d have to get the steamer onto this quick smart as soon as she got home. She pushed on the grimy door that led back into the main part of the club and found her bar stool from earlier was still vacant. While she had waited for him, she had sat there and sipped absently on a glass of lemonade.

“Whoa, slow down,” the guy behind the bar had sarcastically said, before laughing at his own joke, which had not impressed Valerie at all. She was even less impressed when he had eyed her cleavage a little too much. A quick glance to show appreciation was one thing, but full-on ogling was quite another. She supposed, given her profession, she had a bit of a chip on her shoulder regarding people and their stares, but she was still new to this. That was her defense at least. It was how Valerie justified herself.

The same seat but it was a different bartender this time. A young girl, platinum blonde hair tied back in a short, stubby ponytail at the nape of her neck. Cute girl, Valerie thought as she assessed the staff member. Valerie pointed to a bottle of Scotch that sat high on the glass shelving behind the cute blonde girls head. “A glass of that, thanks, no ice, a twist of lemon.”

“Sure thing Miss,” Blondie replied. The notes that Valerie had stuffed down her bra were uncomfortably creasing and pressing into her delicate skin. As stealthy as possible, she pulled out the cash (rather a large amount), laid a note on the bar to cover the drink she just ordered, folded the rest of the notes and put them back, further in her bra this time, rather than just resting in between her tits for every Joe Bloggs to see. Before her first ever gig she had learned from another girl that it was easier and safer to carry cash on your person, rather than a large wad of notes in a wallet or handbag, especially if she had to go from client to client straight away.

Valerie had very briefly considered, in those scenarios when she needed to go from one job to the next, carrying her cash on her person Victorian woman style and tying a ribbon around her thigh and jamming the cash underneath, or shoving it under a garter, but that idea, humorous as it had been to her, was quickly pushed under the rug. The bra was the safest temporary bet.

Blondie presented Valerie with her drink order, took the note and walked the length of the bar to cash it in the register. Normally Valerie did not drink on the job, as any amount of alcohol had the ability to impair her judgment, and being a working girl, you needed your wits about you, but tonight one drop wouldn’t hurt, she figured.

She’d charged her client an extra fifty. He had been an hour late. He was a large and sweaty man, balding on top and a bad combover. He was nervous, that was the first thing Valerie had picked up on. His breath, when they spoke, had smelled of stale coffee, which did nothing to endear him towards her. They’d left the bar and found a booth at the back of the club that was more private and offered them a better path for sneaking into the restroom. A fantasy of his, which had been previously arranged when he rang her the week before. He’d also felt the need over the phone, to divulge why he was using her services. It was a formula Valerie had become very familiar with in the few months since starting this job. It was all very basic. Wife not interested in sex/no libido/no sexual urges. Majority of the time the sexless husbands and partners simply got sick of their hand for relief. That’s where Valerie and other working girls came into the equation.

The client had held the fantasy since his days, long ago in College, when his friends had all pulled girls for the night and gone off to the bathrooms to fool around. He’d never been able to do that back then, simply growing jealous of his friends instead. Valerie could tell he was smiling on the other end of the phone when he had said: “but now I’ll get to cross it off my list.”

He’d been easy to get off. The entire operation, once they entered the restroom, had taken little more than 20 minutes. A quick sucky suck, titty fuck and a handjob with a finger probing at the backdoor for good measure, and the guy was toast. He came mostly into her hand, some of it getting on the dirty concrete floor of the toilet stall. He’d not been able to wipe the stupid grin off his face as he counted out the twenties and handed them to Valerie. Some of the money had ended up being cum stained.

Valerie wondered, as she sipped her drink, if his enthusiasm had come from the act itself, or if he was getting over his jealousy from his College years and the fact that he was finally one-upping his friends. She didn’t care. Either way, she’d earned a decent bra-full of money from him.

A good looking gentleman in a crisp, clean-cut white shirt and a  tight pair of jeans came and sat down at the bar next to her. He smelled of expensive cologne and something else she couldn’t quite put her finger on. He took his drink order from cute platinum blondie, who flashed a shy yet appreciative grin at him. Once he had his beer, he turned to Valerie and spoke. “Care to go somewhere quieter?” Valerie appreciated his straight-to-the-point and no preamble attitude.

“Yes,” she replied. She followed him through the crowd of sweaty and dancing bodies to the same booth she had sat at with bad comb-over. She was on the same side of the booth too, with this gentleman taking the place of the previous client.

“What’s your name?” he asked, releasing a finger from around the neck of his beer bottle and pointing vaguely in Valerie’s direction.

“It’s what-.”

“And don’t tell me it’s ‘whatever I want it to be,’ or ‘whatever I can call you.’ What’s your name? And don’t bullshit me, I’ll know if you’re lying.”

“Valerie.”

“Jack Roth.”

“Nice to meet you, Jack Roth,” Valerie said.

“Nice to meet you too. I have to say, I’m a fan of your work,” Jack Roth said, swiftly following the compliment up with a deep drink of beer.

“Thank you very much,” she said dryly. Jack seemed disappointed with that answer, clearly, it hadn’t been what he was after.

“A buddy of mine recommended your services, said I should give you a call,” explained Jack Roth, without being asked. 

“I’ll have to remember to thank him for that,” Valerie replied. Looking at the man in front of her, She could not tell what former client of hers he belonged to. He definitely had not come from some of her older male clients. Or perhaps he had, but she could not picture him socializing with men in their fifties or early sixties.

He was an attractive man; tall, tanned and toned, a full head of thick black hair which made Valerie doubt he was friends with bad comb-over. Apparently, bad comb-over could get jealous easily. Jack Roth’s stubble was grown out and unshaven, for just over a week, from the looks of it. Gunmetal gray eyes assessed and observed Valerie, slowly taking in her face, and then, eventually, what he could see of her body. She got the sense the Jack Roth and his intense eyes missed very little.

The corner’s of Jack's eyes eventually crinkled into a smile, and he chuckled at Valerie’s previous comment. He took another long swig of beer. “You look absolutely ravishing, by the way,” he said to her. Instead of smiling, or rising to the praise, Valerie simply shrugged a shoulder and raised her dark blonde, arched brows, as if to say ‘I know.’

“Oh I like you already,” Jack said. “A person of few words. Rare to find these days. Some people are just so….” he let his sentence go, trying to search for the appropriate metaphor.

“Wordy?” suggested Valerie.

“Yes,” agreed Jack Roth. “Wordy.”

From the speakers above them, a sappy, vaguely 80s sounding power ballad drifted down and hit their ears. Jack grimaced. “I hate this song. Shall we go then?” he asked.

“Sure thing,” she said. “Where would you like to take things?”

“Bathrooms,” he replied. He hated the song, apparently, but not enough to trek momentarily back out into the cold, wait around for a taxi and go to some other location.

Valerie and Jack stood at the same time, both of them abandoning the last few drips and dregs of their chosen drinks. It was Jack that led the way to the bathrooms this time, and Valerie caught another glimpse of herself in the large mirror outside of the restrooms. A curly tendril of wheat blonde hair had fallen free of her lazy up-do. Pieces of hair taken and randomly pinned on her head. At least Valerie suited the purposely disheveled, secretive and sexy look.

Unbeknownst to Jack, Valerie was back in the same stall she had left not too long ago. It was a rather roomy toilet stall, though that did not counteract from the general unclean feeling that public facilities seemed to emanate. The lock of the toilet stall door and Valerie’s panties came down at the same time.

“You’re a natural blonde,” observed Jack staring at a small, triangle patch of hair that framed her bare pussy lips. Valerie acknowledged the comment with a suggestive half-smile, got down on her knees, and set to work, occupying the same space of floor as earlier, with bad comb-over.

A condom packet was pressed into Valerie’s right hand, while she made quick work of unbuckling his belt, unzipping his jeans and pulling his cock free from his boxer briefs. Amber cat eyes looked up at Jack Roth from beneath thick, luscious mascara-coated lashes. “Big boy,” she breathed. His cock twitched at the acknowledgment, almost as if she were speaking directly to his penis.

Teeth tore at the condom packet, and, with expert precision, she unrolled it onto his knob using her mouth. A skill she was proud to have acquired, but which had taken forever to learn, embarrassingly so, with a banana and several boxes of condoms total, by the end of it. Jack groaned as soon as he felt the warmth of her mouth on his cock, and then the delicious feel of copious amounts of saliva starting to come into contact with his condom covered cock.

His needy hands searched for the back of her head, which he found once he opened his eyes back up to the seedy lighting of the club toilets, one light out of the corner of his eye, flashing annoyingly and rhythmically. Her hair was soft and pleasant to the touch, his fingers digging easily through soft masses of dark blonde curls. She was making good work of sucking his cock, not needing much assistance when it came to the deep throating and face fucking.

The sides of Valerie’s mouth and her jaw were starting to hurt from accommodating his girthy cock, but she pressed on. Already this was ten times better than the encounter with bad comb-over, in fact, she was starting to feel herself becoming aroused, her clit starting to tingle in that ever so tantalizing yet tormenting way. Her hand moved from the base of his cock and slipped in between her legs, her clitoris being found very easily.

Jack Roth pushed Valerie’s head into his body, her nose buried in the stubbly, prickly bits of shaven pubic hair, her forehead pressed against his toned stomach. “Oh yeah,” he mumbled. He heard a gag but still held her. One the second gag and choke he released her head, a long string of saliva connecting her lips to his cock. What was interesting to Jack, was that she was still touching herself, and had kept doing so as she deepthroated him and choked on a mouth full of cock. He found her multi-tasking nature even more arousing. His cock twitched.

“Stand up,” he said. “And face the wall, hands against it.”

Standing on legs that were slightly shaky, she turned and faced the right wall, bracing herself as per Jack’s request. She soon felt her ass cheeks being spread, and the delightful feel of a tongue tip probing and licking at her asshole. Valerie moaned and pushed her pert ass out further towards his tongue. That earned her a red ass cheek, his hand stinging her skin.

The tip of his tongue took on a rhythm as he pressed the tip constantly against her asshole, pausing in regular intervals to delve a finger between pussy lips and spread her arousal over her little back hole, where it was promptly licked clean once more. Her left hand had balled up into a fist, and she banged the side of it against the cubicle wall when she felt a finger slip inside her pussy, his tongue still firmly pressed to her asshole.

The ultimate test of her willpower came when she could hear voices getting louder, and then the unmistakable sound of a door handle being pulled on. Two women entered the bathroom, drunkenly chatting and gossiping, their words slurred. Thinking quickly, Valerie shoved her fist into her mouth and bit down on the skin as Jack made it very clear that he was not going to stop tonguing her ass just because two tipsy chicks had wandered in. Nothing would set him off his course.

He changed the motion of his tongue and swirled it around the puckered skin of her little pink asshole, his finger swiftly moving in and out of her well-lubricated pussy. The way her body jerked and spasmed on top of him fuelled his own arousal, and his cock twitched and pulsed as if to remind Jack that it was still attached to him. “Hey, I’m still here,” it seemed to be saying to him.

Thankfully Tipsy One and Tipsy Two left after a quick mandatory bathroom bitch session about a third female. Valerie herself had done that plenty of times since she had started clubbing, nearly eight years ago now. The heavy and grimy bathroom door opened and then eventually fell back against the door frame, shutting behind Tipsy One and Tipsy Two for good. Valerie released her fist from her mouth and let out a loud sigh.

Jack pulled a sodden finger from Valerie’s pussy, rubbed it once more over her asshole and then stood. Leaning in right close to her ear, he caught a distinct whiff of perfume, and then the softer smell of her shampoo. Both of the scents mixed together to make one, fully intoxicating and heady smell. If he wasn’t careful, he’d be leaving the bathroom as Tipsy Three, his sense askew from the delightful aroma.

“I want your ass,” Jack whispered.

Valerie was unfazed. “Got any extra lubricant back there, cowboy?” she asked, sounding more sarcastic than she had anticipated. She expected Jack to turn up empty-handed, meaning he’d have to settle for pussy, but much to her surprise, and secret delight, Jack produced a second packet, same size as the condom wrapper. This packet was torn open and then sent flying, some of the lube applied to Jack’s condom covered cock, and some pressed into Valerie’s ass.

He knew to be slow, which Valerie was grateful for. Her previous anal experiences with past clients had been uncomfortable and even painful at times, which had made her want to implement no anal as a rule, which she hadn’t quite gotten around to just yet. But from how things were going now, she’d either have to re-think the rule or make this her last anal adventure. Valerie smiled to herself and helped Jack by pressing her ass against his cock.

It felt like it took a lifetime for his cock head to finally penetrate the ring of muscle, but as soon his cock head was in, it was easier for him to start feeding the rest of his cock into what he found to be Valerie’s wanting and needy backdoor. “Tight little asshole,” he muttered as he went deeper inside her.

Spreading her legs further, and then bracing his hands either side of Valerie’s on the paint faded bathroom stall wall, he started to thrust and fuck. “Tight little asshole,” Jack heard himself repeat. In response, her ass clenched around his shaft. “Oh fuck,” he said. He started slamming her after that, the bottom of his now un-tucked shirt covering most of his view of the proceedings. He tugged at the tail of his shirt, trying to yank it out of the way. He managed to do so after a few minutes of fumbling with it.

Valerie closed her eyes and responding to Jack’s fucking by moving back to meet his thrusts. She rather enjoyed the feel of her asshole being and invaded and used by this tall, toned and handsome client. The delightful stretch of that initial ring of muscle and his cock bumping up into her depths and making her feel full was very euphoric, and a string of guttural, primitive moans escaped her mouth.

She moved her hands slightly and found Jacks braced against the cubicle walls. She placed her smaller hands on top of his larger ones and felt that he was tense, his knuckles sticking up high underneath the skin. “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” she could hear him breathe. She felt the need to say the same and fall into a verbal rhythm with him but decided against it. It seemed too intimate. She was, after all, a working call, and he was her client. Valerie was hyper-aware of any small gesture leading to her catching the feels, which was the last thing she needed.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” Jack was getting louder now.

“Oh fuck my ass,” Valerie said. Jack thrust in deeper, his hips meeting her ass cheeks, and he came, his orgasm erupting out of him and filling the tip of the condom. Had she said that to get him to cum? Was it one of her many tricks to get things to reach completion? He didn’t know why, but it angered him slightly. It didn’t sit quite right with him.

Cock was slowly pulled from asshole, panties and boxers were pulled back on, dresses were smoothed down and jeans were once more zipped up. Going by the almost smug, yet satisfied expression on Valerie’s face, Jack softened towards her once more, deciding that she hadn’t said that just to get him to cum, but because she was right into it.

He pulled out a wad of cash and counted out the notes. He stared at her the entire time he did so, his mouth silently counting out the cash. When he had paid her what was owed, he nodded at her and smiled, quickly vacating the restroom.

A second crease had now made its way onto Valerie’s new black dress, she saw when she looked in the large mirror that was in the ante-room, but this crease ran from her back to her butt, as she turned to try and get a better look at her reflection. The cash Jack Roth had just paid to her booby bank creased and pressed into her skin. She’d need to get home quick smart to steam the creases out of the dress and stash her night’s earnings properly. Pressing on the grimy club door, she rejoined the sweaty, grinding bodies