Read Whore Diaries II: Adventures in Independent Escorting for Free Online Page B

purse.  I come to this hotel all the time, walk through the lobby and get on the elevator.  Then exactly an hour and 15 minutes later, I get off the elevator and walk back through the lobby.  It's the kind of place where smiling, uniformed people stand around and open the door for me, ask if they can help me with anything. and how is my day and can they carry my bag?  It's hard to tell if there's a smirk lurking under the smile of the guy who opens the door for me when he says, “Seeya soon!”
     
    In the elevator, I check the text with the room number one more time and slip the phone into my bra with the condoms.  I'm wearing this long dress I got at the thrift store with banging lingerie underneath.  If I hadn't left my gun in the van, I'd make a really good comic book superhero right now.  The elevator dings open and I walk down the hall.  222, 224, 226.  I knock lightly on the door and it swings slowly inward.  I push it open and step through while Tom scrambles to his knees, his hands clasped in front of his face.
     
    “Oh, Goddess,” he says.  “Oh, Goddess you're so beautiful.  Oh, Goddess.”
     
    “Stay.”  I barely glance down at him as I walk to the table and unpack my bag.  Whips, paddles, varying sizes of dildos to stick up his ass, clothespins, and rubber bands.  Last of all, I pull the condoms out of my bra.  I slowly turn away from the table, eyeing the rest of the room.  Baseball on the teevee, turned up loud to cover the sounds he'll make while I'm hurting him.  His ropes and leather straps arranged on the dresser with decorative fans of twenties splayed out around them.  I scoop up the money and put it in my bag. 
     
    One thing about nice hotel rooms is the nice mirrors.  I look at myself in the mirror as I pull my dress down a little, then up a little, admiring myself.  Really, I'm checking that the sea sponge up my twat hasn't let any blood out, but to Tom I'm just examining my beauty. 
     
    This is where I grin and turn towards him, letting my dress fall.  Superheroine powers activate, I think to myself as he grins and babbles about how beautiful I am.  I glance back at the mirror.  I wouldn't call this one of my more stunning days.  My gut is poking out in a way somewhere between cute and not so attractive, I'm not wearing any makeup, and I'm covered in mosquito bites.  I guess the overall effect is rather stunning, though.
     
    I sit in the fancy chair that almost looks like a throne, and beckon him over with my finger.  He crawls fast and clumsy, scraping his knees on the carpet. 
     
    “Get the coconut oil and rub my feet,” I tell him.
     
    I've been training him to rub my feet the right way, to really dig in with his thumbs.  He's definitely learning.  I lie back and close my eyes, let all the tension from dealing with my family and the hospital all morning melt away.  This is pretty awesome.
     
    “Now rub my back,” I tell him, and I step to the bed, pulling off my bra. 
     
    “Oh, Goddess,” he breathes.  “Oh, your ass.  Your ass is so stunning, Goddess.”
     
    I grin.  “I know.”  It actually is.  Stunning because I never really had an ass before, no matter what I did, but then I started doing one-legged squats and grew one really quick.
     
    I sprawl, my legs just ever so slightly apart, and clap my ass slowly. 
     
    “Ooh, Goddess.”
     
    He crawls up and sits on my legs, rubbing coconut oil in and knots out of my muscles.  The weight of him on me feels good. 
     
    “Oh, Goddess, may I kiss your ass?”
     
    “If you do a very, very good job rubbing my back, I might let you kiss my ass, Tom.”
     
    He leans forward, pushing his hands up my back, and I feel his hard cock against my ass.  That feels good, too, plus I can punish him for it later.  I wonder how my butthole smells, if he's going to get really up close and personal with it.  An hour ago, I washed it with soap, but I've probably farted a couple times since then.