Confessions of a West Palm Slut Daylight Fading Chapter 3
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Confessions Of A West Palm Slut - Daylight Fading (Chapter 10) free porn video
I had talked to Sonia who gave me the lead for the job being a nanny. I had interviewed with the woman of the house, Mary Anne, who was a housewife. Mary Anne was married to Chris who was typically either traveling throughout the United States or locked away in his home office doing some sort of hedge fund or stock market work. Mary Anne spent most of her time exercising or at the local country club and was looking for someone to take care of their five-year-old boy, CJ, and two-year-old boy, Matthew, while she attended to other matters...namely exercising or drinking at the local country club.
The interview was uneventful. Mary Anne asked simple questions about my experience with children and I exaggerated some babysitting I did as a teenager. She also questioned my availability and whether I had a vehicle and references. I answered all of her questions but did not expect to get the job. I was typically good at reading people and their facial expressions but the vast amounts of plastic surgery she had undergone made it hard for me to gauge her reactions.
So I was surprised when Mary Anne called me four days later and offered me the job. I had planned on accepting it immediately but was thrown for a loop when Mary Anne explained the position would require living at their residence and being available at varying hours of the day and night.
On one hand, the prospect of living in someone else's home and being available at their request, more or less, was unappealing - especially for someone not accustomed to working, let alone working with a family and children. On the other hand, the money was far more than I had made at any other job and I would be rent-free.
Mary Anne detailed which room would be mine. I recalled it from the tour of the house she gave me. The house was large and beautiful, of course, and that was before the addition they added on two years prior. I would have my own bedroom and bathroom; however, I would have to walk out of my bedroom and walk approximately five feet to the full bath on the left. My room would be on the ground floor, a different floor as the rest of the family, so I would still have privacy.
After mulling it over, I decided to take the job. I packed up my clothes and placed them in my car. I said a tearful goodbye to Sonia before she left for work, although the tears were more for show than ones of feelings. I could tell by the look in Javier's eyes that he despised Sonia more than ever. Not only was she non-sexual with him but now she had provided the lead which took away what little sexual contact he received. He was forced into quietness, alas he tell of his infidelity.
I asked Javier to help me break down the bed frame and he accompanied me down to my apartment. The truth was I planned to have all my furniture in the apartment as I did not need them in my new home. I simply wanted to spend one last moment with Javier. He seemed to truly care about me which was rare for me in my life.
Javier knelt to begin disassembling my bed before I placed my hand on his shoulder. He looked up at me with sad eyes.
“One more time before I leave?” I asked with raised eyebrows.
He pulled down his pants and I knelt, taking his cock in my mouth one last time. I made an effort to make this blow job superb. It was a thank you - for bringing me food, for being my friend, for being my main source of human interaction in this God-forsaken apartment. Tears rolled down my cheeks as I swallowed his cum. It was such a weird dynamic of eroticism, sexuality, and sadness.
I stood up and gave him a tearful hug, said goodbye, and walked out to my car without looking back. I sat in my car, wiped the tears from my cheeks, and called Conch. I had no connect in my new area and needed to stock up before I left. I requested an eight ball which he told he had had ready to me whenever I was free to stop by.
I drove to Conch’s place and he let me in. It was dark inside with only one lonely light on in the corner of the room.
“What do you need an eight ball for and where did you get the money for it?” Conch asked.
“I'm moving and need enough to hold me over until I can find a new connect. And don't worry about where I got the money.”
The truth was I only had sixty dollars which Javier had given me but I was prepared to offer other forms of payment. I handed Conch the sixty dollars.
“This is only half,” he said still holding the money in his outstretched hand.
“I know. So how would you like the other half?”
“In cash, Kelly. Cold hard cash.”
“I don't have that.”
“Well, what do you have?”
“What do you want?”
His hand found my shoulder and pushed me slowly down to the floor.
I had no other option and he knew it. I nodded in agreement and Conch dropped his pants right there in the middle of the living room. I knelt on the floor and took his flaccid dick in my mouth while staring up at him. It had the smell and taste of a man who had not showered in days. I tried to ignore it but couldn’t. I looked to buy myself some time.
“I need to use the bathroom.”
“Right now?” he questioned me.
“Unless you want me to pee myself, yes.”
He nodded his head toward the bathroom as a sign of permission and I stood up and walked to the bathroom.
“Be naked when you come back out,” I heard him yell as I shut the door.
I did truly need to go to the bathroom and I pulled down my pants and sat on the toilet, trying to determine my next steps. I noticed a mirror on the sink counter with a line of cocaine on it. There was always cocaine sitting around at Conch’s. I grabbed the mirror and snorted the line. The head rush felt great and my nose scrunched up in approval.
I wiped myself and flushed the toilet. Instead of pulling my pants up, I stepped out of them. I also took off my shirt and bra and stood in front of the dirty bathroom mirror. My mind drifted back to the many bathroom mirrors my reflection had met in this city. I recalled being clueless and self conscious - assessing myself in the first apartment I lived in down here. Then, shortly after, watching Jimmy fill me for the first time, from behind, in his bathroom during March Madness. And finally, the nights spent in front of the mirror with Courtney, getting ready for a night out and talking about boys.
The door opened abruptly and snapped me away from my thoughts.
“What’s taking so long?” Conch asked.
His dick was now hard and pointing upward. He paced behind me and I could feel him staring at my ass. He came up behind me and smelled my hair - in a way that came across more creepy than sexy. His dick and body pressed against the back of mine as his eyes traced the reflection of my curves in the mirror.
“You see, you coke whores are easy to figure out. This city gets a new shipment of them yearly. They have the bodies, the hair, the ass, the attitude. But they never seem to have the money.”
His hands had now reached around and were fondling my tits.
“But twenty-two-year-old tits are better than twenty-eight-year-old tits.”
“I’m twenty-six,” I interrupted.
“Well your face looks thirty-three. The party scene of West Palm will do that though. Don’t be ashamed. The point is, I can find a skinny blond slut like you anytime I want. They all love cocaine and will all fuck just to get their fix. So while you’re pretty, don’t think you're special and don’t ever think about coming to me without money again.”
The head of his dick pressed against my asshole as his voice began to rise.
“I’m fucking sick and tired of you West Palm sluts not paying me for my product!”
The head of his dick pushed inside my ass painfully and I reached back to ease the entry. He grabbed my hand forcefully and slammed it back down on the sink where it had previously rested.
“So look at yourself!” Conch said with one hand on my chin forcing me to look in the mirror while pushing slightly deeper in my ass.
I could see my face contracted. My eyes were puffy and swollen with black bags living beneath them. My tits hanging and swaying like branches in the wind.
“You’re nothing but another poor slut. Not a single money making skill. You come down here to try and leech off the men down here. But we’re ready for you! We are! We pretend to like you. We pretend to be interested. Buy you a drink. Give you some drugs. Then we bend you over and fuck you like the filthy whores you are.”
He was fully in me now and thrusting. If his dick had been larger it would have been truly painful without lube.
In the mirror reflection I could see a string of spit hanging from his mouth. Normally I would have been disgusted but I knew what he was doing and my asshole could benefit from lube of any kind. His dick was pumping my ass at a slow, yet steady pace.
“How many dicks has that pretty mouth of yours sucked since you moved down here?” Conch asked.
I didn’t answer, instead bracing myself against his thrusts.
“How many?!” he yelled, grabbing a fistful of my hair and yanking it back forcefully.
“Fifty?” I grunted.
“Fifty?!?! You’ve only been here two years! That has got to be some sort of record. But FUCK...that turns me on!”
His pumping picked up and I reached back and spread my ass cheeks - partly to ease the friction and partly in an attempt to make him cum. Men were visuals creatures and it was time to put on a show.
I grabbed a tit with my left hand and my ass cheek with my right. My midsection was being thrust against the sink counter over and over by his now powerful fucking. His breath quickened as did his pace. His hands dropped to my hips as his cock rawly entered my ass over and over.
Finally, he stopped and pulled his dick out of my ass. I could feel his cum in my ass, slowly oozing out but not fully.
I sat on the toilet once again, this time forcing the cum out of my ass into the toilet. The visual and moist sound were not attractive, nor did I intend them to be.
“You’re disgusting,” Conch said turning his view away from me on the toilet as he left the bathroom. “Fifty fucking dicks in your mouth in two years.”
I got dressed, grabbed the eight ball, and left, vowing never to return again. It was time to start a new chapter in my new home.
Jo
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