My Last Job

As I walked up the steps, I paused, and took a deep breath. Don't worry Roza. After this job, you won't need to degrade yourself anymore. You'll have enough money for your courses. After completing those, it's only going to be good things from there.

I lit a cigarette, straightened my short skin-tight black shiny vinyl skirt, and took a second to push up my luscious breasts, creating cleavage with my black velvet boustier which accentuated my small waist. As I presses on the `up' elevator button, I kept on reminding myself, don't worry, this is the last time, the last time I will have to sell my body.

In the elevator mirror, I checked my make-up, re-applying my lipstick, and mussing up my long, red hair. Sighing, I turned away from my mirror-image. Everyone had such high expectations for me. With my 5'8" physique, long red hair, deep blue eyes, cute little nose, and curvy figure with measurements of 34D-23-35, my mom thought that I would always be the beauty of the small town of Clearview. Little did she know, that I would move to the big city, in hope of getting a better education, having more choices, and then ending up a high-priced whore. Mom thinks I am working in a grocery store, doing fine with my courses. Now, 23, I finally believe that I can stop this way of life and continue with how I believe everything was supposed to happen.

As I got off at the fifth floor, and walked over to room 518 of this ritzy apartment building, I put on a sexy smile, knocked on the door, and got ready to make some money.

As the door opened, surprisingly enough, a young WOMAN, about 26 years old, answered the door. Not only was it surprising that it was a woman, this woman was also gorgeous! Tall and lean, she had shoulder-length dark wavy curls, big green eyes surrounded by long lashes, a small upturned nose, and soft sensuous lips. This woman made a beautiful sight standing in a deep purple satin robe.

"Did you call 555-6969? Are you Sam Winslow?" I asked, puzzled.

"Yes, that's me." Sam replied. "It's really Samantha. But, if I wanted them to send me one of their best women, I had to shorten it to the male equivalent, Sam."

"But, why a whore? You're very pretty." I said.

"Oh, this job of yours has nothing to do with me. I specifically requested to have you Roza." Sam said in response.

"Waaaiit! How do you know my name? How did you know where to find me?" I said angrily.

"Ssssh, Roza. Does Robert Winslow from Clearview ring a bell?"

"Only one of the richest men in town!" I said, finally understanding. "Samantha...you must be...his...?"

"Daughter. I've seen you around town a lot. Who couldn't notice the beautiful Roza?" She asked. "Anyways, I've been looking for you for a while."

"Why? Why I am I of any importance to you?"

"Because..." Samantha looked troubled. "How can I say this? Better to show with actions than with words..." She muttered.

And with that last word she leaned towards me. She pressed her soft, full lips onto mine, slowly parting my lips and entering my mouth with her sly tongue. As she raped my mouth, I moved us back towards her cold, leather couch. Sam stopped for a sec, taking off my boustier, letting my big breasts fall free, which she then paid careful attention to, nibbling and sucking them as I moaned under her.

I, wanting to get into the action myself, undid the straps of her robe. As the satiny purple material fell to the floor, I gazed mesmerized. Her breasts, smaller than mine, approximately a C-cup, had silver rings through each nipple. Her shaved pussy looked soft, but moist. I've never been interested in girls before, but I could feel my pussy juice warming my legs.

This time I got on top of her, ready to do my "job". But, this time was different from the other times in two ways: 1) the client was a girl, and 2) I was actually sexually attracted to her.

I began kissing her neck, trailing down to the valley between her beautiful breasts. I then trailed lightly around her nipple, making a wet spiral path to the centre of her breast. As I reached her nipple, already protruding, I started to suck her nipple, as my hand squeezed her other nipple, pulling on the jewellery. As I sucked her nippled, I began to pull on it, grazing my teeth along it, making her moan underneath me. I then switched to her other nipple, this time tugging with my teeth on the ring, sometimes licking her nipple teasingly with my tongue. As I did this, my hand made a tickling line down to her pussy, where I, glad to already feel wetness, began to caress it.

As Samantha began to move her hips to try to get me to touch her clit, I decided it was time to stop with her mesmerizing tits and begin to really show her why I was so high priced. I, following in my fingers path, trailed my tongue down to her pussy. As I led my tongue down the length of her slit, Sam kept raising her hips, wanting me to push my tongue farther in. Placing both of my hands onto her tight butt, she opened her legs for me to place my mouth closer to her aching pussy.

I started to langoriously suck and lick her pussy lips, teasing her clit by sometimes lightly touching it with my tongue or grazing my teeth along it. Her movement of her hips were starting to go in short spasms, and I knew it was time. I quickly, at the same time, inserted two fingers up her ass as I darted my tongue into the concaves of her pussy. As I scoured both her ass and pussy at the same time, she arched her back, getting ready to pour her juices into my waiting mouth. I quickly took one of my hands and with a finger, tweaked her clit. This was the climax. As she shreiked and bucked in ecstasy, I found out, surprisingly enough that she was a spurter. She then proceeded to spurt her come into my mouth, leaving some on my lips. As I swallowed her tangy juice, I moved upwards, placing my lips on hers. She gave me a long, tired kiss licking up some of her own juices in the meanwhile.

As I got up, straightening my now wet, vinyl skirt, I went searchingly to the couch, to get my boustier.

"Wait...where do you think you're going?" Samantha asked, moving her luscious body off the couch. "I didn't just hire private investigators to find you for you to pleasure me, honey. I want you." She emphasized the last sentence.

"Huh?"

"Yes, you. Look, I've got money, a good job, and I'm not at all bad looking." Sam said. "I want you. Didn't you have fun just now?"

I nodded.

"I need a slave. I'm sure you can be very submissive. You'll be treated very well-as long as you behave. You'll get everything you desire, as long as you follow my guidelines. How's that?" Sam asked, in a more authoritative tone.

"Everything?" I asked, thinking of luxury, all of the things I've ever wanted. It couldn't be too hard, I thought. She's beautiful. How hard could it be doing her every whim? I grinned. "Okay."

"Okay...Mistress Samantha." She stated.

"Mistress Samantha." I liked the ring of that. It sounded better than the raunchy names some of the 'johns' called me.

Yes, this is the story of my last job. My last job as a whore. This was just the beginning of a life with my beloved Mistress, Samantha. And, laughingly, it all began in a small town called Clearview.