“Look, baby, I’m sorry. I don’t know what else to say.” It’d been a lengthy, exhaustive shift for Lindsay – four turbocharged, grueling parties and currently setting up a fifth that would end her first “real” day back to work after the emergence from shutdown. She’d come prepared for this midnight rendezvous, too: the slutty minidress, the three-inch platform shoes with the seven-inch spiked heels, the perfume, the bows and hula-hoop earrings, the cocksucker-red lipstick. …

Was the secret to her success more her attitude or simply the way she presented herself?

“Try to see it from my point of view, Kayleigh.” Looking like someone had just ransacked his mother’s grave, Javion Chase pleaded his case as he held hands with Lindsay on the bed. “You told me last year you would always charge me five hundred bucks an hour, no more. I’ve seen you, what now, eight times? Have you even been with any client more times than me?” The twenty-nine-year-old African American, who lived five houses up the block, labored with serrated breaths hissing between his teeth. “You know I don’t have the greatest job and can barely afford you as is. I’ve been loyal to you. I waited through all this COVID bullshit to see you again, and now you’re jacking your rates up?”

“It’s nothing against you, Javion!” The bulge in Lindsay’s throat wrenched up then down. “I appreciate the fact you’ve been patient and loyal and wanted to party with me so soon after we reopened. I made sure to get you in here on the first day too. I mean, I’ve been out of work for thirteen months, and things are different now. I had little to no income and things, you know, everything is more expensive. It’s inflation. Prices go up. I have to roll with the times, so I cannot accept anything less than six hundred an hour for a GFE.”

“But you told me five!”

She levelled him with an off-putting look. “That was last year, and I did not say I wouldn’t ever charge you any more than that. I’d never say that.” Counting sheer number of parties alone, perhaps Javion was her most loyal monger, but Lindsay’s own patience was wearing thin. Any negotiation where I have to haggle over money for more than forty-five seconds generally raises a red flag. Contentious negotiations would often lead to a less than optimal party. “Things change, rates change, and I have to live, baby. I have to pay my bills, too, and can’t shortchange myself. My time is very valuable to me.”

Javion held her gaze for a moment before looking away without a word.

“I’m giving you a discount as is.” Her voice whipped him back. “I’ve been charging my mongers eight or nine hundred an hour today, yet all I’m asking for is six from you. That should tell you how much I appreciate you. I’m not looking to bankrupt you. I know your money situation is tight.” She pushed him away gently, but still held him by the hands. “I like you, Javion. I cherish all the time we’ve spent together, and you’re definitely one of my top two or three customers.” Her expression plunged into a mope. “Am I not worth an extra one hundred dollars to you?”

“It’s not that, Kayleigh.” With a swoop of his arm, Javion flung his Las Vegas Raiders ballcap across the bedroom and screwed up his face. “Jesus Christ, it’s not that at all. Of course, you are. Of course, you’re worth it!” His lips twitched downward, and he let out a sniffle. “All I have is a thousand bucks to my name and I was looking forward to spending two hours with you. I’ve waited so long to see you again and, Jesus Christ, the last thing I expected was to be haggling over numbers like this.”

“Listen, baby.” Lindsay’s mouth pressed into a firm, final line. “We can do an hour and forty minutes if you want to spend the full thousand. If you prefer not to, every ten minutes will run one hundred dollars. It’s up to you.” Countless bartering sessions had taught Lindsay how to stand her ground and play hardball when needed. I’m not a pushover anymore. “Otherwise, if you want to continue with this attitude, I’m going to have to call for Jim, and he will ask you to leave.” Besides, it wasn’t Lindsay’s fault Colt raised the house minimum. Six hundred an hour is the bare bones I’m allowed to charge.

“Fine, fine.” The false layer of Javion’s easygoing, calm demeanor splintered into a million shards. “Whatever, fine.”

*

All day Lindsay had been used. By this point, she found she couldn’t deny that the thought of her degradation aroused her almost as much as it should have troubled her. Yeah, but I’ve netted over three thousand dollars so far, so it’s okay. She popped the cap on another beer.

During their final fuck before the return engagement in the morning (which would include Christina), the study desk creaked in a furious whine as Dave rode Lindsay over it. And with each creak came a wail of helpless pleasure and the sound of Lindsay’s body straining against the hands which held her there. Dave’s hips were railroading her ass, her pussy constricting around the onslaught, and Lindsay felt her spine wrench and backside push even farther out for his taking. She was a legalized prostitute again, finally, and had already experienced more orgasms in these first two hours with a man than she had in the past year combined.

“Fuck me, Dave! Fuck me. Fuck me, keep fucking me. Oh my God, don’t you dare come yet. Harder, yeah. That’s it. That’s it. Don’t stop. Give it to meeeee!”

At the outset of her one o’clock appointment with Justin, a paramedic with the Flagstone Fire Department, Lindsay was shimmying her minidress down her hips and legs. The striptease made her formidable breasts bounce and obviously unveiled more of her body. By the time she kicked the dress to the floor and hooked her thumbs in the high side straps of her G-string – pale pink and see-through – and wiggled them off, Justin’s shirt was hanging open, his mouth dry, his heart thundering, and his cock harder than it had ever been.

Still, he twiddled the wedding ring on his finger. “Umm, I don’t think my wife would be happy if she knew I was here … again.” He’d been at war with his virtues since making this appointment on Tuesday. “Not after the last time.”

“She doesn’t have to know.” Biting the tip of her finger, Lindsay flayed him with a breathy tone and seductive gaze. “C’mon, come celebrate the end of COVID with me.”

“You are … sooooo … sexy.”

She closed the distance between them and tugged at his belt, her lips a whisper from his. “We’re gonna have our own little celebration without your wife knowing.” Lindsay swiped at his mouth with her tongue. “Okay?”

Moments later, they were well on their way. Justin’s tactical EMS trousers were on the floor and Lindsay’s mouth was stuffed full of his dick. She took it from there. With both hands on the man’s hips, she set the pace entirely, offering some world-class fellatio. The warmth and wonder across her face as she did her due diligence amazed Justin. Once she increased the tempo, Lindsay’s hair slipped from its bun and cascaded over her breasts, and her appetite turned voracious. Justin’s hips bucked, and a carnal pleasure consumed him, white hot like a streaking comet.

And they still had forty-five minutes to go.

One of Lindsay’s original, first-ever mongers, Darius, surrendered to her charms later in the afternoon as she rode him like he was a bucking bronco, cowgirl style, until his body went limp. She bent down and kissed him, then, catching him by surprise, and when her genuine, loving spirit swaddled Darius again, he felt himself melt away.

“Umm, yeah.” His breath hissed clipped and short. “God, Kayleigh, what a way to punch COVID in the mouth.”

“The best.” She stole another sloppy kiss.

“And you’re the best girl to do it with.” A laugh broke free. “You are … amazing. One of a kind.”

“Hmm, you too, baby.” Lindsay snuggled against his broad, massive chest, and eyed the $100 gift card he gave her beforehand on the nightstand. “We’ll have to do this again the next time you’re in town.”

“Ummmm … next time I’m in town?”

“Tomorrow!”

“Tomorrow,” he agreed.

“Oh, Ryker!” During the ensuing party, Lindsay threw her head back against the wall, eyes closed, breath sawing in and out of her mouth, but her hips kept riding his hand. She winced but never once tried to escape Ryker’s touch, not even when her cries escalated into full grunting moans. These were fuck-me sounds, guttural and edgy, growing louder as her face contorted. Ryker owned Lindsay with his hand, slapping his fingers in and out with blunt trauma force.

“Oh, shit!” Her own hands clamped down hard, her sharp little fingernails digging into his shoulders like claws. “Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit!” Ryker made the most of it while he could, commencing with two fingers to spread Lindsay’s pussy open, then three, and finally all four just to hear the delirious, full-throated shrieks coming from her.

Holy hell, those cries. Lindsay was a woman so lost in her own pleasure that she clearly didn’t care what she sounded like or how loud she was. For one small window in time, Ryker thought, money was not her driving force. Nothing mattered to Lindsay except him and the bonfire of burning he was fucking her body with.

And then, the party with Javion happened.

Still pissed about the negotiations, their hour-and-forty-minute GFE dissolved into something else, something different, and Lindsay saw a side of Javion she could’ve never imagined. What happened to the fun-loving guy I’ve known for two years? She equated it to hate-fucking, though perhaps not to that extreme. Javion told me he had to get his money’s worth. Hot, angry, sweaty, gasping, grunting, toe-curling, on her knees with her ass in the air and her hair in Javion’s hands while he throttled her from behind – that type of hate-fucking, and that was all there was to it. That man disrespected me, even tried to stealth his way inside me (remove his condom).

With aches and pains hammering her bones, and her nerves stripped from their sheaths – Sleep? Who needs sleep? – Lindsay took a hot shower at three o’clock and recalled her arduous day. Dave is awesome and Justin may be the sweetest man I’ve ever met. Darius is Darius, a big, lovable goof who enjoys fucking and cuddling with us white girls, but Ryker is still the creepjacker de jour. An ominous look suddenly shrouded her face. And Javion can go fuck himself for all I care. If he and I party again, he’s paying a thousand an hour.

Speaking of parties, how in the world would Lindsay get enough time to rest and recover before the threesome she had scheduled with Dave and Christina less than four hours from now? I overdid it for my first day back, sure, but there is something that may help a little. At the washroom mirror, she drew yet another bottle of Modelo to her lips, spilled its liquid goodness down her throat, and chuffed out those addictive vapors. Oh, yeeeeah. Lindsay placed the cold bottle against her forehead and purred like a kitten. Maybe if I drink enough of these, the pain will go away. …

<> <> <> <> <>

Teen Dream PIPER

Available 5/1-5/24

Height: 5-foot-7

Weight: 113 pounds

Brown Hair

Brown Eyes

Measurements: 34c-22-30

Age: 18 (birthdate: Oct. 29, 2001)

Hello there,

I’m Piper and firstly, I’d like to thank you for taking time out of your busy day to visit my profile.

I’m a sweet, quirky, playful, and professional companion who ascribes to the belief that sex work can be therapeutic, fun, and healthy despite society’s refusal to acknowledge what we do here at Happy Ending Ranch as valuable. I specialize in making your fantasies a reality. I’m a giver in every way but also, admittedly, I’ve got a bit of a selfish streak. I like to be please as well as be pleased!

Now close your eyes for a moment and imagine how good you would feel inside of me.

Away from the ranch, I grew up and attended high school in Michigan, and am your typical girl next door. I love to meet new people and have a very adventurous side. I enjoy social networking, reading, writing, swimming, and video games. I aim to further myself as an individual and cannot wait to see what the future holds.

While I do love opening up to people one-on-one, I can be shy, so I completely empathize and understand that you might have some nervousness about entering a brothel. I promise that I’m not here to judge – you are safe with me. It is truly my pleasure to listen and take care of people so they can feel comfortable and appreciated.

There are a lot of things we could do with our time together. I welcome new and exciting experiences, like getting kinky and exploring a fetish. The Girlfriend Experience and role-plays are some of the parties that I offer too. I want to take my time, hold your hand, get to know you, and build sexual desire so our first intimate touch is deeply arousing. Just as I open up to you about my life, goals, and fears, I hope you’ll feel comfortable sharing yours with me. After all, without some sort of emotional or intellectual connection, sex just isn’t as sexy. Whatever your reason for seeking out companionship, let me know so I can tailor an experience that’s just right for you.

Reach out, touch me, and let me be your muse. Send an e-mail or call to set up an appointment so that I can be ready. I cannot wait to meet and get to know you!

–Piper

*

“Look, man, it’s not a problem. Here, take it. Take it.” Having sifted through his wallet, he forked over three fifty-dollar bills. “No big deal – everyone makes mistakes.”

“I appreciate it, Dave. I do. I wish all our customers were as understanding as you.” Colt relaxed his defensive stance as he slipped the money into the fireproof safe behind the counter. He hadn’t been looking forward to explaining to a preferred monger like Dave that the surcharge for his afterhours threesome party would be $150, not the $100 Lindsay quoted him yesterday. It was perplexing how some of his clientele were willing to spend boatloads of cash yet would raise a big stink over literal pennies.

Fortunately, Dave wasn’t one of them.

$100 was the norm, so Lindsay didn’t need a scolding, but Dave was charged extra because Christina was part of the mix too. More or less, it was a mandatory tip for seeking an appointment outside normal business hours. Fifty dollars each would go to Lindsay and Christina, as well as Colt, for any possible inconvenience.

Someone had to be there to monitor the party.

What possible objection could Dave have, anyway? Colt texted him last evening and suggested he show up at six-thirty instead of seven. You’ll have more social time with the girls before we open, the message said. One of the things which made Happy Ending Ranch stand out from its competitors was the amount of fraternization it offered. Ladies would typically flirt and gossip at the bar with their johns for hours, both before and after parties. It ultimately made the gentlemen feel like VIPs and want to come back and spend more money in the future.

COVID put an end to the excess socializing, at least for the time being. Yesterday, there had been a line outside the house – people waiting to get in – but Colt only permitted two customers in the parlor at a time. Social distancing. The ten-minute limit for talking prior to a party sucked, Dave thought, but he understood. Talking after a party, other than saying goodbye, was a thing of the past.

Yet once Dave received the offer to come in early, it made him feel special. Like the VIP of all VIPs. He and Colt had known each other for two decades and had a good rapport going. It didn’t hurt, either, that Dave made the sojourn to Flagstone twice a year and dropped thousands of dollars every visit. Was the six-thirty olive branch Colt’s way of saying thank you for all the years of his continued patronage?

Now, if only the girls would do their part and show up. It’s six-fifty. Where are they? While Dave enjoyed shooting the shit with Colt, he’d much rather be conversing with Lindsay and Christina. I got a spot reserved right here on my lap for Piper. He checked out Christina’s webpage last evening at the motel and spent several minutes gawking at her photos, psyching himself up for what lay ahead. I can’t believe I’m gonna be Piper’s first monger and Kayleigh will be with us, too, right in the middle of everything.

Best of all, this girl is only eighteen!

Would Christina be shy, even fearful, about taking dick for the first time in exchange for money? Would Dave have to work with her – go slow – and show her the ropes? He had no quarrel with the idea of receiving a tender, relaxed thirty-minute blowjob while critiquing and coaching her up. Or would Christina jump in with both feet, so to speak, and prove herself worthy of being a Happy Ending girl? Was she an eager little nympho like …

Dave saw Lindsay as the wildcard in what he’d labelled as a “reverse virgin party.” Would Lindsay allow the threesome to go slow, if that’s what Christina needed, and play itself out naturally? Not her style. No, in Dave’s experience, Lindsay wanted to go a million miles an hour at all times. She’s bisexual and can never get enough pussy either. That, perhaps more than anything, was what he found himself most anticipating. I want to fuck Kayleigh doggy style while she goes down on Piper and makes her explode in orgasm.

“I don’t know, man. COVID kicked my ass.”

“It kicked all our asses.”

“True.” A quick shrug usurped Colt’s intended nod. “This past year has been pretty miserable.”

Has it? Dave glanced at Colt sidelong. Has it really been miserable for you? You, of all people?

Colt was married to Pamela and got her pregnant. You knocked up the Holy Grail of all courtesans! While different aspects of Colt’s life were obviously a challenge, as was the case for everyone during these troubling times, Dave refused to accept the notion that he had been miserable.

No.

No way.

I think you have Kayleigh on the side, too, and you’re fucking both her and Pamela every night. Sweat puddled in his palms. God, I’d give anything to see Pamela at seven, eight, nine months pregnant. …

“My wife and I,” Colt said, “had plans to go to Mykonos – a beautiful little Greek island – a year ago, last May, but COVID put an end to that as well.”

I bet Kayleigh was going there with you too. Dave had been around the game long enough to realize this idle round of chitchat was Colt’s way of buying time until Lindsay and Christina appeared. It was five minutes past seven, now, and Dave was getting antsy. Still, he had no right to complain. Colt claimed that with this early wakeup call, both girls were running late.

Hell, it was difficult for most of these ladies to make a ten o’clock appointment on time. The house stayed open until three and Dave figured the majority were up for a few more hours, at least, drinking alcohol, gossiping, and comparing their earnings.

“A coworker came down with a horrible case of COVID and it put our engineering team into quarantine,” Dave said. “I was out of work for three weeks myself.”

“It’s been rough.” Colt jugged back the rest of his bottled water. “I’m just hoping there aren’t any more massive spikes in new cases, which would give the governor reason to shut our industry down again.”

“What was up with that, man?” A storm cloud fogged Dave’s eyes. “I read that Nevada allowed strip clubs and massage parlors to reopen well before they did brothels. I’m no doctor, but to me, it seems you’d stand just as much of a chance of contracting COVID from a stripper giving a lap dance than you would having sex with a hooker.”

“LPIN faces massive opposition, both locally and in the state capital.” Colt’s smile fell into disrepair. “It’s always been that way. Many of us were convinced the brothels would never be allowed to reopen. There are so many people – so many groups – who oppose us, it’s unreal.”

“Bunch of Karens.” Dave scoffed out a laugh. “Fuck ‘em all!”

“My wife and I, we have a fair amount of savings, but I was legitimately concerned for people like Nicolette, Sahara, Riley, Jenn, and some others. This house is – or was – their livelihood and without it, they can’t pay their rent or mortgage, or put enough food on the table to feed their families. Sahara and Riley chose not to come back here.”

“Yeah, I feel your pain, man. I have family members who got laid off and … great mother of God!”

“Hi.” Appearing off to the side, a young woman blushed a crimson red and raised her hand in a simple greeting. “You’re Dave, right?” She wore a white minidress with shimmery threads of silver through it. The garment adhered to her figure like a second skin, showcasing all the right curves, but her breath snagged hold on something inside her chest. Her hair was thick and luxurious, free-flowing, and so silky it reflected at least seven shades of brown amid the parlor’s multicolored lighting setup.

“Right. Hi. Dave. That’s me.” He jerked upright, but only after fastening his eyeballs back into their sockets as the willowy woman approached, rolled her lips in, and smiled. “You must be … Piper?”

“Hi,” she repeated, slinking her arms around his shoulders for a quick embrace. “How are you?”

“It’s so nice to meet you.”

“It’s nice to meet you too.”

A barstool scuffed the floor. “Here, take a seat.”

“How are you doing?” Her sweet voice spiked upward.

“Much better now, I’ll say.”

“Piper.” Colt’s eyes darkened as he poked a finger toward her face. “Mask. Wear one. Right this instant.”

“I’m sorry.” Her mouth snapped shut and she cleared her throat. After securing a proper covering with black rhinestones across it, she fluffed out her luxurious mane and zeroed in on this handsome older man. “So … Dave. I’ve been looking forward to meeting you ever since Kayleigh told me what a great guy you are.”

Why he found the momentary flash of fear incredibly sexy was beyond him. She doesn’t want to upset her boss on her first day, does she? Perhaps because it offered a glimpse of who this girl truly was, rather than a fledging turnout wearing a hotter-than-hell white minidress hoping to turn her first trick. Christina’s attempts to hold his stare were impressive, but the confident tone she spoke with conflicted drastically with the nervous way she tugged at the hem of her dress. I bet Jenn or someone else trained this chick for hours last night on how to talk to me.

The other stuff, she’s gonna have to learn on her own.

“Where is Kayleigh, anyway?”

“Oh, don’t worry. She’ll be along soon.” Christina cringed and plucked the front of the dress away from her breasts. “This thing is an extra-extra-small, yet I’m used to wearing smalls. I just bought it yesterday.”

She exhaled as she let go of the fabric and the dress went back to clinging to those breasts.

Someone definitely taught her that too.

“I don’t think it would be appropriate to wear this in public but here, you know, in the brothel, it’s okay.”

Dave let his gaze crawl over Christina, from the top of her head to the black slingshot heels encompassing her feet. It was a good dress. I’m pro dress. And Dave would love to play with the body inside it when the time came. He felt a familiar urge rise up in his chest once he caught a flash of black panties under its very short hem, too, but he fought it. She’s a newbie, bro. Take it slow, don’t stare.

Still, he was unable to resist brushing away a lock of hair plastered to her temple so he could see her better. Their eyes connected, and the temperature soared. “You look great.” God, this girl was gorgeous.

She fidgeted with her dress again. “Thank you.”

He stuck his leg out and squeezed Christina’s wrist. “Tell me about yourself, sweetheart. What’s your story? I’m going to be your first-ever client, correct?”

“You sure are.” She giggled and dropped her eyes. “I’m a music lover, a sports freak – but only when it comes to playing them, not really watching, though sometimes – and oh, I’m a bookaholic. Big time. I love to read.”

“A bookaholic?” Dave teased her knee with a quick tickle. “That sounds like some heavy-duty stuff.”

Her head bobbled left and right. “It is, trust me. Colt, may I please have an orange juice?”

Dave sensed something distinctive crackling in the air.

It was awareness. And attraction. Chemistry.

She offered tidbits about life in “Detroit”, explaining how she was the second of three children and had a healthy upbringing with a mother and father who supported her and stressed independence. Christina had been a cheerleader, gymnast, and track and field athlete, and held a key role on the school’s theater team. She’d spent the prior two years as a picker in a grocery store for online orders, but obviously quit once making the jump to Nevada.

Those parents could not tame her wild streak, and she had aspirations of one day entering the brothel industry as far back as her formative years. “I want to try nude modeling and maybe dabble in some porn too. I’m excited about what the future has in store for me.”

Dave’s brows shot up. “Well, if that’s something you’d like to do, maybe I could be the president of your fan club.”

She trailed a delicate hand down his chest. “I’d love that, honey.”

“Dave!” Lindsay burst on the scene, made a mad dash, and hurdled herself onto his lap. “Oh my God, Dave, I’m so sorry I’m late.” Brimming with her trademarked spunk and limitless energy, Lindsay sowed her mask-covered lips upon his neck and peppered kisses there, doing her best to apologize. If it wasn’t for the bar behind him, the force of what was basically a head-on collision would have caused Dave to topple over and land flat on his back.

Colt stood behind the carnage, shellshocked.

“Oh, baby, I’m so glad you came to see me again!” With her legs encircling Dave’s waist, Lindsay noticed her brown corduroy miniskirt had already bunched high, and everyone in the room now knew she didn’t have any panties on. Normally that wouldn’t have been an issue, but she glanced back at Christina for a split second, bit her lip, and tugged the skirt downward.

“Kayleigh. Hi.”

A peal of laughter zoomed between them. “We can’t have Piper thinking I’m a slut already, can we?”

Dave found himself struggling for breath. “Is everything okay, pretty girl? Why are you so late?”

“Oh, everything is fine, especially now that I’m with you and Sweet P.” The joy in Lindsay’s eyes threatened to spread like wildfire. “I just didn’t get much sleep last night, that’s all.” After resting her head on his shoulder for a beat, the full weight of Lindsay’s body began bouncing and dry-humping Dave’s dick through his shorts. The pressure was blinding, intense. “Come on, baby, let’s go back to my room and talk about getting down and dirty.” She tossed her head, her hair whipping wildly, as she reached back and hooked her fingers into the bodice of Christina’s dress and reeled her closer, like a prized catch, though her gaze never once left Dave’s. “It’s never too early to pop a cherry!”

(End of Chapter Thirty-Three - to be continued)