Chapter Two.

At breakfast the next morning, Dexter is still here.  I slink in not wanting to meet their eyes, his eyes.  Last night, I let this man touch my breasts.  Okay, I let his sweaty beer bottle touch and massage my breasts.  This middle-aged man saw me naked, well, saw my best assets naked.  Other than a hard-on pushing against my ass, this resulted in my mother getting the pounding of her life.  Without the beer and the feeling of power from last night, I am ashamed and humiliated.  Dexter acknowledges me and then gets up to leave. 

“Please discuss my idea with Hannah.  I think Bobby will be excited.”

Bobby?  Fuck!  Bobby is Dexter’s son who is in my school and even in some of my classes.  He is nothing like his father.  He is chubby and has acne.  I am curious and frightened by what this may mean.  Dexter leaves.

“Mom?  What the fuck?”

She plays dumb.

“What’s up with this Bobby bullshit?”

She relents.  She reminds me that our car has been in the shop for a week, that she has been catching rides with friends to work, that we cannot afford the repair bill.

“Dexter has offered to pay the bill.”

“For what?  What does he want?  What does he want from me?”

She tells me Bobby is depressed, he has never had a girl, he is apparently sexually frustrated.  Dexter wants to cheer him up.

“Are you out of your mind?  You gave my ass away to Bobby?”

Sex is not new to me.  I’m not a slut but I have had my share of experiences.  Starting with hand jobs and progressing to blowjobs, I have my moments at parties, getting fingerbanged by random boys and then getting banged for real by more random boys.  Now that I’m on the pill, I am not hesitant about going for it whenever the situation appeals to me and it’s been appealing to me more and more lately.  With Dexter being increasingly present at home, I now seek validation in the well-muscled arms of random boys.  So it’s not the sex but Bobby’s flabby arms and acne that is the barrier.   

Mother says thirty minutes would do it, sixty at the tops.  Bobby just needs to have a good time.  He needs to have fun.  He needs a release.  And he cannot know his Dad arranged it.  I. Am. Mortified!  I am expected to spend an hour with this nebbish?  Doing what?  Being naked, sucking him, fucking him, and then go to school the next day?  And do what when I run into him?  Act like his girlfriend?  Oh, Christ!

“Hannah.  You have to do this.  Please.”

“One hundred dollars.”

“What?”

“I won’t let you give my ass away!”

“What?”

“I’m selling my ass for a hundred dollars!  I’m sure a nubile young thing like me, one with these breasts, is worth at least that much.”

“I don’t think Dexter will go a hundred over the repair.”

“Forget the sex, the humiliation at school is worth the money.”

So she made the call.  Bobby must be a mess because Dexter agreed immediately.  It was on for Saturday afternoon.  Dexter would come over for a visit with Bobby.  When they went to her bedroom, I would take Bobby to mine and “entertain” him until they re-emerged from their “activities” which would be around an hour.  I had my hundred dollars. Score!  I guess.  Right?  Selling my ass is empowering.  Isn’t it?  Isn’t it?  Oh fuck, what have I done?

Saturday arrives.  At noon I put on the “outfit”.  The regulation short skirt.  The regulation braless t-shirt.  The regulation boy-shorts which are stained with last night’s fingering.  Dexter and Bobby arrive at 1.  By 1:05, Dexter and Mom retire to her bedroom.  Bobby looks at me with a creepy grin on his face.  I go to the fridge and get two long necks.  I hand Bobby one and start walking to my bedroom.  He follows me so close he invades my space.  I down my beer, leave and returned with a second.  Bobby just stares, at my breasts, my long skinny legs.  He grins.  I sit on the bed.  He just stares.  I stretch pushing my breasts forward pleased that my nipples had hardened.

“I never thought I’d be here with a girl like you.”

I choke, swallow hard.  I shoot him a glance.

“What?” 

“I’ve seen you at parties. What you wear.  What you do.”

“I’m sixteen.  I like to have fun!”

“Why are you dressed like that now?”

I didn’t have an answer.

“Is that for my Dad?”

No, asshole, it’s for you.  In order to communicate this to creepy Bobby, I stretched pushing my breasts out as far as I can, hoping my nipples will come to attention.  They do.  Bobby stares and is that drool I am seeing, running down his chin.  Oh fuck!

“I’ve seen guys grope you at parties.”

I stare at him eyes flashing.  He closes the distance.

“I have no idea what you mean!” a challenge in my voice.

Bobby slowly reaches for my right breast.  So slow my body starts to hum a little anticipating the touch.  Bobby grins and takes my right breast and squeezes the fuck out of it.  The pain!  I swallow a cry but a tear rolls down my cheek.  I smile at him.  (Note to self, selling my ass can be painful.) 

Bobby goes into his backpack and produces a polaroid camera.  Now he has my attention.  These are super popular as a throwback.  I wanted one forever. 

“Pinch your nipple!”

I do.  He kneels and from below he hurriedly snaps a picture.  In a minute, he shows it to me.  I blush.  Taking up the whole picture was my right breast with nipple extended.  It is arty.  And hot! 

Next, he places my hands behind my neck which causes my breasts to jut out.  Bobby stands behind me and cups and pinches my breasts with his sausage fingers rubbing my nipples through my shirt.  My breasts begin to throb.  Fuck this is harder than I thought!  Then he stands on my bed and shoots down at my chest.  Soon a picture emerges of my two breasts standing like peaks of a mountain with my nipples looking an inch long.  This whole process was making me breathless.  My breasts had developed a pulse.  (Note to self, selling your ass can leave bruises.)

As we finish the last shot, he starts to hand the photos to me.  I tell him to keep them.  He thanks me and rummages into his backpack.  He hands me the camera and three packages of film. 

“What’s this for?”

“For being my model.”

“This must have cost a lot.”

“I have my ways.  I’m always getting stuff.  You know.”

The implication is clear.  Bobby has stuff!  I already sold my ass for a hundred and now I had a camera.  If Bobby had more stuff, then maybe it would be worth it to sell more of my ass and see where it went.  How humiliating would it be for me to talk to him at school?  Very, very humiliating was how.  I quickly calculate that I could try it out and dump him if I needed to.  Looking at my watch I realize that I have twenty minutes to complete this sale. 

I look at Bobby who gives me a creepy expectant smile.  I want to close the sale but what the fuck does he expect?  Bobby takes my shoulders and leans in for a kiss.  Oh god, this is more intimate than sex.  My breasts push against his flabby chest.  Ew.  I kiss him deeper.  His sloppy tongue finds my mouth and he is off to the races with spit drooling down his chin.  Bobby is grinding his chest against my flattened breasts.  I.  Can.  Do.  This!  Bobby pushes me away.  His sausage fingers don't grab my breasts.  They go up my skirt.  Fuck!  They find my panties and then he rips them off.  Fuck!  That hurt!  I’m going to have a welt where they pulled against my thigh.

 Soon his sausage fingers are in my slit, pushing my clit, clumsily searching, finding it, my opening.  After a little more fumbling, Bobby’s sausage finger is in.  God the pain!  Although I am sort of wet, his fingers are thick.  He pumps me so hard that on the up thrust I am on tiptoes.  Bolts of pain course through my pussy as his fingers pound me vertically lifting me to my toes again and again.  His fingers are in me and my girl parts begin to throb as I am lifted again and again onto my toes, the fingerbanging increasing in rhythm and force.  This is something new to me.  Rough.  Painful.  Then it happens.  I shudder with pleasure that electrifies my body and Bobby’s hand is suddenly soaked.  Have I just cum?  In the middle of all that pain?  Was that an orgasm?  There is certainly a puddle on the floor!  Have I squirted?  (Note to self, selling my ass can have unexpected consequences.) 

I had planned to finish with a hand job when Dexter calls.  I give an apologetic smile, mouthing maybe next time.  I am ready to sell again but he needs something to remember me.  He starts to leave.  I tell him to wait.  I take the camera and peel off my top.  His eyes pop.  I hold it up and snap a selfie of just my breasts.  After making sure there are no identifiers in the pic, thinking of future sales and his stuff, I give it to him.  He gives me that creepy smile and I do my best not to shudder.

I start to pick up my top and then think better of it.  I pick up my light jacket instead, pulling it on.  We leave the room.  I do not zip the front because I wanted Dexter to know I had entertained Bobby properly.  My breasts bob and sway as we walked into the kitchen.  Dexter stares at my breasts.  Bobby puts an arm around and, in front of his Dad, cups my breast and smiles.  I struggle to look pleased.  After he lets go, I lean forward enough to let Dexter see the whole rack.  He looks impressed.  They leave.  Mom, after some shouting by me, finally gives me my hundred.  So a hundred and a polaroid camera.  Not bad.  I am semi-naked and my pussy has a pulse, but I close the sale.  I go back to my room to clean up the puddle.  (Note to self, selling my ass is hard, painful and fun?)