Moaning softly, Westee arched her back under the cover of dark-gray satin sheets. She wrapped her arms around the pillows as his fingers kneaded her upper back while he pumped her from behind. Little sighs of pleasure escaped her parted lips as his hands dug into her naked body.
With Henry, Westee didn’t have to pretend to like it. Older than most of her clients, Henry was her best john. He was gentle and patient and always took the time to massage her neck and shoulders as her ass moved lustily on the bed. Henry didn’t treat her like a call girl but rather a fragile prize deserving of all his attention.
Most of her clients were in a hurry to get their money’s worth. Not Henry. He relaxed, had a few drinks, and talked. Then when it was time to get down to business, he proceeded slowly, treating her like she was a princess who had just given him the privilege of fucking her.
Westee’s body became still. She knew his thrusts by heart. He pulled her closer as his thrust went deeper inside of her. She heard his groaning and could almost hear the fast beating of his heart as he came into the condom and held her.
“Ahh, Westee. You’re going to kill me one of these days.”
“Mmm.” Westee gave him a smile and stretched. She watched him dress quickly. He wasn’t so bad as long as she didn’t have to look at his pale face during the screwing. As it was, she rarely spent anytime looking at her customers. It was a job that supplemented her earnings as a chambermaid in the hotel and she conveniently used the very same rooms she cleaned.
She waited for Henry to exit before she took a shower, dressed and pocketed his fifty-dollar tip. Closing the door behind her she pushed Vegas’ number on her cell phone, mentally making a list of what she’d purchased before visiting her mother. Henry’s fee had already been collected by Vegas and would go in one of her spaghetti jars at home.
“I’m done with Henry. On my way to pick up my share.”
“I left it for you at the front desk. Gotta talk to you, Wes. I had an offer.”
“No, Vegas. I’m already doing over five regulars. No more.”
“Wait. Listen up. I’m talking about a bachelor’s party.”
“Hold on, Vegas.” She walked out of the elevator and went directly behind the hotel’s front desk where she snatched the envelope from her mail slot. She folded it, stuck it in the back pocket of her jeans and walked through the revolving doors in the lobby. It was almost ninety degrees. The heat slapped her hard on her face.
“I don’t do bachelor’s party,” she raised her voice over the blare of the commuter traffic on Chestnut Street. “We’ll talk later. I see my bus.”
“Wes, I gotta know by…”
But she had disconnected the call. Vegas tucked the cell back in his belt, pondering on how to convince Westee to do the bachelor’s party. He knew Westee was tired of the whoring. He didn’t think she’d last this long. Of all his call girls, Westee generated the most money from the least amount of clients. He needed Westee. Without her, he was nothing.
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