School for Nurses (12 page)

‘No,' she murmured. ‘Martin, don't let him do this to me. I'm not...'

‘
What
aren't you?' He had lit a cigarette and was leaning back against the wall, watching as the man finished greasing her rear hole, knelt up, and began undoing his trousers.

‘I'm not for sale,' Vanessa sobbed into the pillow. ‘I'm not for sale...'

‘But it looks to me like you can be rented,' Martin said.

She shook her head as the second man, now free of his trousers and boxer shorts, crawled towards her on the bed, his long brown cock fully erect. He spread himself on top of her, and gently kissed the soft curls at the nape of her neck as his heavy body pressed her down into the mattress. Then he reached down to part her cheeks, and began thrusting his penis slowly, insistently and inexorably into her bottom...

 

As she lay quietly, her flushed cheek on the pillow, Martin came back into the room holding the contract he had just signed with the two clients before they left, along with a cheque. He waved it back and forth in her face. ‘Maybe you have a future in this business after all,' he said, sitting down beside her on the bed.

‘That was terrible,' she said flatly. ‘Terrible.'

‘What was terrible?' he mocked. ‘The fact that they were foreigners? That your arse is too tight?'

‘I'm not a whore,' she complained. ‘I'm a professional woman. I can do the job. I can sell. You didn't have to let them have my body.'

‘Well, sweetie,' Martin pulled his tie loose, ‘it's like this. I didn't really let them have your body, I simply renegotiated the fixtures. You want to sell, don't you?'

‘What do you mean?'

He undid the top button of his shirt. ‘You're the agent of record on this letting. The commission is yours. You'll be collecting, of course.' He kicked off his shoes.

‘I get commission?'

‘Yes, you're the commission agent. You get all the money. But you have to come and collect it every month from them.' He took off his jacket.

‘You mean, I'll have to...?'

‘I expect you will, my dear, I expect you will. Still, it's a nice big letting, and I'm sure you want to keep your job.' He took off his trousers.

‘You expect to fuck me again now?' she whispered. ‘You treat me like a whore, and then you want to fuck me again? Let me up. Please, untie me. Let me up.'

‘Can't do that.' He folded his trousers neatly, and hung them over the brass bedstead.

‘Let me up,' she cried.

‘No. You see, the cheque hasn't cleared yet, so I can't be sure they'll honour the contract. A letting isn't a letting until the money clears, I'm sure you'll agree. So, I have to show the property again in half an hour.'

Vanessa's eyes widened in disbelief. ‘You mean...?'

‘Yes, two Japanese gentlemen. Lovely chaps. Well, they sounded lovely on the phone. Anyway, they haven't got anything you haven't had before, an old professional like you. You do whatever it takes to get the job done, don't you?'

She felt the blood rushing to her face again, and suddenly she suffered the impression that she would be tied to that bed for the rest of her life.

‘Aren't you a professional, Vanessa?'

‘I just wanted to keep my job,' she said in a small voice.

‘Didn't you sleep with me to keep the job?'

‘Maybe...'

‘Well, do it once, and you may as well do it a thousand times. Which you may very well have to, if you want to keep working for me. A lot of beds in a lot of short-term lets. But the money's good. You can't really sell your arse more than once, my love. Only once, over and over, a thousand times. A million times. But it's a lovely pair of cheeks you have, and I'm sure you'll love the closings. Speaking of which, we only have twenty minutes, so push your bum up for me. Can't very well have the clients getting better service from my staff than I get myself.'

Vanessa felt her tears dry on her face as he kissed the back of her neck like the second man had done. She turned her face to look at him, and found his cock next to her mouth. She knew she had to suck it, and she did, until he pulled it out of her mouth, slick with her saliva, and thrust it without any further lubrication into her bottom, and she begged him to go slowly.

‘All right, anything Vanessa wants,' he whispered into her ear, and ploughed his erection into her from behind over and over again. Yet she still found herself writhing against the mattress in the throes of a blinding climax as he penetrated her deeply and inescapably, and she listened for footsteps on the stairway outside announcing more clients coming to rent her body.

 

 

 

My husband likes me to play cards with his friends. He likes me to play strip poker with his friends. It all began quite innocently. The game was a regular event. The guys would drop by the house on Thursday or Friday night and play a few hands, just my husband and three of his bowling buddies - Frank, Eddie and Mike. My husband, Billy, is a sociable guy, he likes hanging out with the boys, and who was I to object if he brought them home once a week; at least it meant he was home.

One night I was bringing them some snacks - little frankfurters on sticks and potato chips and dip - like I usually did, it was only hospitable. Billy used to like showing me off to his buddies before we got married, so I thought the least I could do was help him out when he entertained them. I wore a short dress every now and then, I won't deny it. Hell, I'm entitled to a little excitement, same as the next girl.

Well, on this particular night, Billy was losing badly. He loved playing cards but they never seemed to like him, especially the aces, if you know what I mean. He was holding on to nothing while Frank seemed to be picking up all the good cards. Frank had always liked me, and his eyes lingered openly on me when I was in the room. Frank had money; whenever we went out as a gang, Frank never was short of change to buy the rounds. And he always dressed well, not like Billy's other friends. Now that he and Billy were gambling together regularly, Frank was picking up ten, twenty notes a night from him, and they were notes my dear husband couldn't afford.

On the night I'm talking about, as I was bringing in the tray of frankfurters, Bill was cursing the latest of his worthless hands. Meanwhile, smiling in satisfaction at his own spread, Frank gave me a long, leisurely look, his eyes lingering on my cleavage - well-displayed by my tight black sweater's deep V-neck - as I bent to kiss Billy's neck. I was wearing a matching short black skirt and black pantyhose with high-heels, and I deliberately hadn't bothered with a bra.

‘Bill, how about I cut you a break on those expensive hands you keep playing?' Frank offered as he reached over and speared a frankfurter off the tray from directly beneath my bosom.

‘What you talking about, Frank?' Billy sounded tired, and he barely seemed to notice when I kissed him. He was studying his cards and rubbing his face.

‘Well, how about we widen the betting frame?' Frank's voice sounded strangely dreamy, distant, dangerous. I don't know why, but that's the feeling I got when I looked at his inscrutable smile.

‘What terms?' Bill asked, throwing out a card. It was the wrong one, even I could have told him that, but he never listens to me. He glanced up at Frank, wiping sweat off his brow. The other two men were listening intently, which in retrospect leads me to suspect they had talked this out between them beforehand.

‘Well,' Frank went on, ‘the way I see it, you're down fifteen-hundred already tonight. That makes nearly five-thousand you've dropped this month, and it's only the third game of the month. You got that kind of money, Billy?'

‘Don't worry about my kind of money,' my husband said, slipping his arm around my waist and resting his hand on my bottom. He always did that whenever his manhood was challenged.

‘Well, don't you have any other kind of assets you could show?' Frank riffled his cards gently with one hand.

‘Like what?' Billy sounded curious now.

‘Like what your hand's on,' Frank replied, his smile deepening. Mike chuckled, and Eddie cleared his throat as he shifted a little in his chair. The three of them had talked it over beforehand, I'm sure of it. I wore short skirts around them, yes, but I hadn't asked for this. Billy will tell you I never asked for this. At the time I wasn't exactly sure for a moment what Frank meant, but Billy knew straight off. I saw a blush creeping up his neck and looked at him in surprise. I had just grasped what Frank was implying and had been about to laugh it off until I saw Billy, my Billy, blushing. Why should he be blushing unless he'd had some thoughts along these lines himself? I was beside myself when I suddenly realised my husband had considered betting me in poker, but before I could react, I heard him ask, ‘You thinking a hundred dollars a garment?'

‘Well,' Frank said, ‘a garment per pot, or if it gets bigger, I guess a garment for every hundred dollars, sure. You guys interested enough in seeing Fanny's goods to spot Bill a hundred a garment, boys?'

Eddie and Mike both grunted in agreement, careful not to look at me.

‘Now wait a goddamned minute,' I said, slapping Billy's hand off me. ‘You're not talking about me like I'm not in the goddamned room, are you? This is
my
parlour.'

‘It's an eat-in kitchen,' Billy corrected me, ‘and you always say we can't afford what I'm losing.'

‘So stop losing!' I felt myself blushing to the roots of my hair, but I do believe the truth is that I found it all very exciting and that's why I sounded so angry. ‘You don't have to keep playing, Billy.' I was aware of the fact that Frank's eyes never left my breasts, in fact, the feel of them resting on my cleavage just got warmer and warmer. I folded my arms across my chest.

‘It's not quite as simple as that, Fanny.' Frank reached across the table and speared another frankfurter. ‘Billy's been losing pretty regularly lately, and when I ask - that is, when Eddie, Mike and me ask - if he can afford that kind of money, we're not referring to whether or not he can afford to lose what he hasn't lost yet, it's whether he can afford to pay what he already owes.'

‘You mean...?'

‘Oh yes,' Frank said, biting the sausage off the toothpick and then twirling the stick around and around between his fingers. ‘He owes way more than what's been going out of your account. What he's been dropping on the table in front of you is nothing. We've been gambling on Tuesday nights too, and sometimes Wednesday nights, every time he told you he was at work.'

I sat down in the empty chair beside Billy's, my head spinning. I couldn't think, but I knew I was playing this game whether I held the cards in my hand or not, and I could feel my face getting redder and warmer. Then, his eyes meeting mine, Frank laughed softly and put his cards down.

First, Billy bet a two pair and an ace against what turned out to be the straight flush in Eddie's hand, at which point I slipped off my high-heels.

‘Come on,' Eddie frowned, wanted me to take more off than just my shoes, but I ignored him and Frank waved him quiet. Billy wouldn't look at me as he bet a two of diamonds next and an ace backed by a king, but Mike easily beat that, and my skirt came off. I was still wearing more than I would normally wear at the beach, except that they had me get up on a chair to strip. With my back to them, I pulled my skirt up my thighs, unzipped it, and stepped out of it while thrusting my bottom over the table for all of them to see. I was glad I was wearing pantyhose and not the garter-belt Billy normally likes me to wear. The way I see it, they were getting enough for their money, I didn't need to provide any extras.

I was starting to tear up a little, and I sniffled as I sat back down. I knew what was coming off next, and Billy still wouldn't look at me. His friends were definitely looking though, looking hard and smiling smugly.

Then my husband lost again. I forget what cards he played, and I wouldn't look at anyone, just sat in my chair and swallowed. Finally I grasped the hem of my sweater with both hands and slid forward as far as I could in an effort to hide behind the table as I pulled the black folds up to just below my chest, and took a deep breath. The men were staring at my belly, what they could see of it over the table, and piling up their money. I closed my eyes, and pulled the sweater up over my face. I could feel their stares warming up the cool air as it hit my naked breasts, which swayed enticingly as they came free of the tight sweater. My nipples were getting stiff, and I wasn't sure if it was because it was chilly in the room or if it was because I could seem to feel all their hot breaths on them. I kept the sweater over my face like a veil as I felt their lust like the ghost of a caress on my flesh that made he shiver.

‘Let's see your face, too,' I heard Frank say through the soft cotton folds. ‘We get that for free.'

I blinked against the light from the lamp as I pulled my sweater off all the way, and sat topless before them. Then there came the last hand, or the next to last hand. Mike and Eddie had both folded by then, so it was just Frank and Billy. My husband drew a card, then another one, and another one as Frank just kept smiling. He didn't care about the money. He kept putting out another card, and winking at me as he turned his eyes down towards the table as if he could see through it. He called, finally, the last card was revealed, and Billy lost just like I knew he would. Yet I knew he had been fighting to salvage the last shreds of my dignity. I think he had liked the idea of my getting naked in front of his friends much more than the actual event. But now he had lost, and I had to strip completely.