Virgin for Sale

Chapter 8

Suddenly, he stands up, his grip still in my hair as he starts to rock against my mouth, holding me in place.

There’s no way for me to escape, not that I want to. Seeing him getting close, feeling the pulse of his dick, there’s nothing else I want more than for him to come.

When he does, his spunk floods my mouth, and without any instruction I swallow it down, every single drop as he pulses inside me.

Only when he can’t take any more does he let go.

Resting my hands on my thighs, I wait.

He’s panting for breath.

“You’re sure you’ve never sucked a man off before?”

“You were my first.”

Something flashes in his eyes, something dark that makes me pause for just a second, and then it’s gone. Did I imagine it?

Suddenly, he grabs my arms, and he’s pulling me to the bed.

“This night is nowhere near over.” His hand moves between my legs, two fingers back inside me. “And I think it’s time for you to come again.”

Chapter Four

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It has been a long time since I passed out from fucking a woman. It feels so good. Considering I’ve always been put off screwing a woman for money and an innocent one at that, my little virgin last night wore me out. No matter what I did, how many times I took her, and I do believe it was five, she took it.

Her mouth and pussy were mine last night.

I’d been tempted to fuck her tight, hot, juicy ass, but I figured it wouldn’t do to rush her into anything. Especially when it comes to a woman’s ass. That kind of fucking needs time, and to prepare her to take my cock.

Sitting up with a frown, glancing around the room, I don’t see any signs of her.

Pushing the blanket off, I see the red bloodstain on the sheets is still there. A mark of what went down last night.

Shaking my head, running fingers through my hair, I pad toward the bathroom.

There’s no one there.

No sign of her at all.

Checking the time, I see it’s a little after seven, and I don’t like that she’d escaped without me knowing. I’ve never been a heavy sleeper, never, and yet this woman has gone when no one else could.

Fuck!

Heading back into the bathroom, I take care of my morning wood by taking a piss. Washing my hands quickly, I try to avoid looking at my reflection.

Failing miserably.

I look fucking haggard.

Screwing a virgin, having her suck my cock, certainly doesn’t leave me feeling fucking refreshed.

I’m pissed off.

She’s gone, and the worst of it, I don’t even know her name.

When I head back into the bedroom, there’s a guard in the doorway.

“Malcolm would like to see you.”

“He would?”

It has been a long time since I talked to Malcolm or should I say went and visited him in his office. I’d paid the money upfront last night.

Why would she go?

Why not wait and we could have …

What?

What the hell could we have done?

No names.

No contact.

No nothing.

The rules had been told to me many times by Dean. It’s why he loved the place so much. Fresh, new pussy that he could ruin.

Last night wasn’t about ruining her.

It had been about giving her an experience of a lifetime, and the truth of the matter was, there’s no way I could walk away. Not after looking at her picture. It had been impossible to do.

She called to me, and now I’m starting to feel like a fucking crazy person.

Pulling on my pants and shirt, I follow the guard out of the room, aware that he merely closes the door.

This is so fucking crazy.

He leads the way to Malcolm. Small talk isn’t for me, but for some reason, I’m angry.

“How does it feel to just stand outside these rooms all night, listening to them fuck?”

“It’s none of my business what goes on inside these rooms. I’m here to do my job. To take care of them if something bad happens.”

“They’re fucking total strangers. How bad could it be?” The question even sounds stupid.

The guard pauses outside of what I assume is Malcolm’s office.

“You’d be surprised how many men think this is a place to abuse women. It’s not. I’ve had to step in too many times because he thinks a no-holds-barred night means he can beat the living shit out of a woman. Not going to happen. Not on my watch.” He knocks on the door, and Malcolm’s firm “Come in” can be heard. “You better enter.”

The truth is I’ve no desire to see Malcolm.

If the son of a bitch of a guard hadn’t opened the door, I wouldn’t have gone in.

I wonder if he read that on me.

Shrugging, I head inside to the little pimp sitting behind his desk.

Malcolm is a rich man. He owns the best nightclubs the city has to offer, and now with this venture, he’s completely loaded. I’m surprised there aren’t virgins strapped to cages in his office to tempt him.