RoamWild (3 page)

I cling to him and work on the kiss. Denise rubs her crotch against his ass and unbuttons his shirt. We haven’t gotten beyond the passageway.

The hotshot pushes me against the wall and lifts me. I wrap my legs around his hips. I feel Denise unzipping his pants. It won’t be the first time I’ve fucked before I make it to the glass rooms.

Toussaint will mention this critically. The desired flow of events is to do the fucking where the hidden video cameras operate. But Toussaint’s not the one pulling in the money. What happens is driven by the needs of fired-up bodies.

I’m thinking this while I squirm, twine, and French. Denise’s hands guide his cock. I can be sure she slipped a condom on.

Is this cock harder, longer, thicker, or quicker than all the others? No, but it’s the weapon of a dangerous man, one who wants more than what we sell here. The grunt I give him is real. He carries me in mid fuck to the glass rooms. Denise’s hug steadies us. Her fingers play with his cock and my cunt.

In a knot we squeeze through the glass doorway hung with two engraved glass nameplates,
Raven and Desiree.
The hotshot lifts me off his cock and drops me onto the bed. I’m still bouncing on the mattress when he fucks Desiree from behind. She’s standing spread-legged, grabbing her ankles. She looks up at me and grins.

I see my face in the ceiling mirror, my open mouth, my eyes nearly closed, showing the strain of my need. It’s not entirely an act. The glass rooms will do this to you.

All around us the sex goes crazy. Whores’ bodies spread to accept whatever the hotshots want to do to them. Three rooms over, the female hotshot locks Skyla’s head between her knees.

I kneel on the bed and run my hands over our hotshot’s humping ass. It’s my turn to reach between his legs and feel his sliding connection to Denise. He takes his cock out of her and puts it in front of my face.

Hotshots enjoy having me on my knees, kissing, licking, and handling their erections. This guy runs his cock through my hair and reaches down to fondle with my tits. I take his knob in my mouth and play my tongue around his rim. His hips sway. I look up. His eyes are open. He’s giving me a tight smile.

Denise hugs him from behind, runs her leg up his hip, plays her hands over his chest, and kisses his neck. His eyes stay locked to mine. I’m stirred.
What for?
He’s another body with a cock attached.

I went to work at Seattle Young to break free from what might happen if the right man looked in my eyes. Every hotshot I serve is unfaithful to someone—a wife, a lover, a sweet person they might’ve met if they’d spent their night somewhere else. I’ll take their infidelity. I’ll fuck it crazy.

I close my eyes, bear down on the work of my lips and tongue, run fingertips over the base of his cock, and tickle his balls. My mouth fills with cum. His cock slips away. I look up, find his eyes waiting, and swallow.

He lifts me. I stand on the bed. His face is level with my cunt. This is when they eat you, before they spurt any cum in you. He’s good at it. My hips work against him with more than their usual display of urgency.

Denise slides between us. Her body presses his. The way she kisses him draws one of his hands from my ass to the back of her head. He presses her face to his crotch. She gets busy sucking.

Standing on the bed lets me see all of the glass rooms. In the one closest, the guy who came in second in the bidding for us is on his back with Aspen riding his face and Elle riding his cock.

The female hotshot has strapped on a dildo and rammed it up Sienna’s ass. Sienna is putting on a great act, biting a pillow to muffle her screeches, pounding the mattress with her fists, and kicking her feet while her back and legs hold her ass rigid to accept the shoving penetrations.

All the hotshots are past their first fucks and looking around to see what the others are doing, getting ideas. The whores are working hard to revive erections, mostly using their mouths.

Denise finishes the job on our guy. His cock slides from her mouth, hard and ready. She holds it in both hands and smiles up at him. We draw him onto the bed. He says, “Doggie.”

We take the position, side by side on our hands and knees. He’s behind us. He rubs my cunt. I squirm and moan. Denise does a more convincing act. He’s fingering us both. She shoots me a glance. We’re in a contest to see who gets the cock. I buck hard against the probing finger and beg, “Please, please.”

It works. I brace my arms and legs and wonder which route the cock will take. It chooses my cunt. I gasp dramatically, bend my back, and hump against it. Denise crawls behind the kneeling hotshot and drapes her legs over his shoulders with her cunt filling his face. This isn’t an easy position to hold, though it works okay with him able to keep his balance by resting his hands on my ass.

The guy in the next room sees this action. His girls scramble to copy us.

Our hotshot’s cock leaves my cunt. I brace my knees and relax my ass for what’s coming. The cock goes where I expect. It’s my turn to bite back a scream while I pound the pillow and kick. It’s the reaction he’ll expect to a butt fuck, since he saw Sienna giving up the same fake agony.

Denise will know she can sit on the guy’s shoulders for a short time before his spine gets tired. She climbs off him and sits on my back. This gives him her tits to suck and her cunt to finger while his cock probes my ass. He reaches around and rubs a finger over my clit.

The whores next door try to follow our act. When one sits on the other’s back, they both collapse. The hotshot laughs and gives orders. They lie on their backs and spread their legs. He goes at them, a few strokes in one cunt, a few strokes in the other, while he sucks four tits in a row.

Our hotshot’s cock leaves my ass. He tells me, “Don’t move.” Denise flops down on her back beside me. His cock goes in her. She hugs him with her arms and legs and kisses hard.

I stay on my hands and knees. I’m breathing hard and sweating. With him all over Denise, my mind escapes the present. I think of the morning in court, the snotty little street hooker who showed up for trial with half her ass bare. Did she turn enough tricks to buy dinner and a safe place for the night, or did the pimp take all the money and send her back to the alleys?

A sharp slap on my ass tells me the hotshot said something I didn’t hear. To make up for it, I say, “Command me.”

“On your back.”

I flop and spread.

“Knees up.”

I fold my legs. He grasps my ankles and settles them on his shoulders. This is standard enough. He pushes my legs forward. Okay, I’m flexible. He keeps shoving until my knees are above my face.

It’s a position no one’s ever put me in. I’ve seen it done once, on my first night in the glass rooms. I smile to show him I understand, and roll my body in a ball. My knees are on the pillow. The reflection of my upturned ass smiles at me from the mirrored ceiling.

The hotshot bestrides me. His short legs let him poke his cock at my exposed openings by bending his knees. Which hole will he choose? At this angle, my ass might handle it better.

He brushes his knob over my ass and drives it in my cunt.

Ya-ga-ga
. I’ve never been fucked from precisely this angle. He’s ringing my bell for real. My body wants to arch and spread, but my balled-up position holds my reactions tightly inside. My orgasm rings down through me hard.

When my eyes can focus again, I see the hotshot above me, his cock still in my well. He looks amused. I try to muster an inner
fuck you,
but my cunt is still fluttering its
thank you, thank you, thank you.

The lights flicker off and on. This hour in the glass rooms is ending.

Denise gets herself back in the act by standing behind our hotshot and playing her delicate touch over the place where we join. My cunt is trying to take flight again when the lights flicker a second time and the gong sounds.

We disentangle. Denise and I lay arm-in-arm. He drops cash in front of us—a major tip—and leaves. Before he disappears down the passage to the lounge, he looks back at us. The mood is in his eyes, amusement mixed with satisfaction, slices me in half. He had his fun, but through every bit of it he was thinking about something else.

Chapter Six Oh, Please

Denise and I are relaxing on one of the couches, nibbling fruit, when Toussaint enters the brightly lit break room. Naked whores come wet from the waist-high showers, load plates at the buffet, and sit around us on other couches or in the makeup chairs. The wardrobe ladies freshen our outfits, stitching rips and wiping off stains.

Amid all this undressed flesh it is the two of us, entirely bare except for our face paint, upon whom Toussaint’s gaze lingers.

“Ladies,” he says to us, “nice, extremely nice. No one has scored more hits on the pay per view. You set a record.”

Denise high-fives me. She’ll have all the cash she needs to stock next season’s apparel line at à la Seattle.

“Staying for the second shift?” Toussaint asks Denise.

She says, “Why not? We’ll do the same shit.”

I ask Toussaint, “Who was our hotshot?”

He says, “You know better than to ask.”

I say, “He was here night before last.”

He asks, “And why should this concern you, Raven?”

I say, “A guy coming around too often can be a problem.”

Toussaint says, “We’ll see you are not bothered. You do not need to know who he is.”

But I do. I still feel sliced in half from the parting look he gave me. It’s the first time a guy has gotten in my head since Stephan dumped me.

I say, “I look out for myself.”

Toussaint says, “I hardly—”

Denise says, “If you want us together for the second shift, answer the question.”

He flashes his smile, showing us the gold and diamond decorations on his teeth. “For information,” he says, “I appreciate favors.”

Denise pats the couch. Toussaint sits between us. One of his hands goes down the inside of her leg. The other goes down the inside of mine. I take his warm hand and settle it over my cunt, and I press his middle finger inside.

This is the wildness of Seattle Young. I love it. The license to do anything with your body answers needs most people hide under the edges of their fantasies.

Toussaint watches his second knuckle disappear. He says, “The gentleman is from Los Angeles. I believe I heard him tell one of the other clients he is the film business.”

Denise says, “You know more.”

He circles her labia with his fingernail and curls his finger in her. “He paid a great deal of money for the privilege of returning tonight.”

Denise asks, “For a second crack at Raven?”

Toussaint says nothing. Both his middle fingers are busy. He’s skilled. I’m using up juice I should be saving for the second shift.

I look at Denise. The flutter off her eyelids tells me Toussaint’s digging has the same effect on her. She’s watching his hand, and doesn’t return my glance. Below her left eye, her skin is marred by a bruise.

She didn’t have it yesterday when I met with her and Walter at à la Seattle. The face paint covers most of it, but the dressing room lights leave no room for mistake. Someone has hit her.

Toussaint’s phone buzzes. He takes his finger out of me, reads the text, keys a number, and says, “Send three.”

I can’t help watching the movements of his hand. I want his middle finger back.

Denise says, “Calling girls up from the sports lounge? Business is good tonight.”

Toussaint goes back to fingering me. He says, “Three lady clients entered the lounge. Fortunately this gives us time while the extra help is made ready.”

The back door to the changing room opens. A hunky bartender ushers in the women who’ve been promoted to the glass rooms for this shift. They’re bare except for platform heels, short skimpy athletic shorts, and their face paint.

They look around, too obviously trying not to seem awed to find themselves in the upscale side of the operation. Working a shift in the sports bar makes a whore thousands. A shift in the glass rooms makes tens or hundreds of thousands, depending on how well you perform.

Wardrobe ladies fuss over them. Makeup artists add embellishments to their paint.

I lift Toussaint’s hand off my cunt. “If you have no more to tell me?”

He gives me another shot of his diamond teeth. He says, “Oh, I was just getting started, Raven. But I cannot share such secrets with both of you.”

Denise lifts his hand from her crotch and stands. She says, “Raven, you ought to quit asking questions.”

I straddle Toussaint’s lap. My back is to him. His hands bump my ass while he unzips. His cock slips in me. It feels better than his finger. I’d forgotten how long he is. He’s fucked me once before, on the day I auditioned for this job. His knob hits places inside me few hotshots ever reach.

I say, “Talk.” For his pleasure, I make my voice sound strained.

He tells me, “This man has a special connection with Madame Renee. What it may be, I do not know. He’s gotten favors from her before.”

His hips rock me. His deep poking wakes strange sensations. The fuck I’m giving Toussaint means I’ll need to shower and douche again before the second shift. I’ll need to hurry. The extra girls are getting dressed, and everyone else is ready.

I ask, “His name?”

Toussaint says, “A mystery.” He kneads my breasts and works his cock in me.

I say, “But you could find out if you wanted.”

He says, “Possibly.” He lifts me off his cock. His knob presses the bud of my ass.

I say, “Oh please, no.” I’m not entirely acting. Toussaint brings more cock than I’ve ever taken up the rear entrance.

He says, “If you want me to find the name….”

“Go ahead.”

“You are sure?”

I say, “Oh, please.”

Chapter Seven Please, No.

One of the late-arriving ladies wins the bid for Denise and me. She wears a long black blouse cut to expose her heavy cleavage and disguise the thickness of her lower body, over denims braided with rhinestones and glittery shoes. She carries a mammoth purse.

Her sex thoughts shadow my mind like a black cloud.
Oh-oh.