Play For Play Girls

CHAPTER ONE-1

CHAPTER ONE

Brenda hated being a w***e. She hated the smelly old men that she had to put up with, just to earn a living and pay the rent.

New York City was a tough place to get along in, and one thing that just couldn't be done without, was money. She needed a lot of it, to pay for the lavishly furnished apartment that she had on the fashionable upper East-Side.

However, Brenda was a thrifty young girl, and she had worked her ass off for the last two years in New York, saving every penny that she could get a hold of, in hopes of someday removing herself from this profession of degradation.

Her latest customer was a fat man of about forty-five. She had met him on her corner, a corner in the fifties on Eighth Avenue, that she remembered very well having to fight for.

She had arrived in New York, two days after her eighteenth birthday. She had tried several office jobs, but just couldn't stand being cooped up all day long, as well as the lousy money that they had offered her.

One night, in a singles bar down in the Village, she met a rich man who wanted to make her a high-class call girl. He ran a house in Connecticut, and Brenda decided that she would move in there, to escape her ratty roach-infested apartment on the lower East-Side.

The work was okay, but she hated being away from the city. There was something about the excitement that living on Manhattan gave you, that she missed in the country.

At the house, she made a lot of fantastic money, for about three months. Then, she returned to New York a richer, and somewhat wiser young lady.

She had been taught all of the tricks of the trade, so to speak, about picking up men, taking them home, doing what had to be done, and getting the money for the services rendered.

Of course the situation at the house in the country was entirely different. Drake, the man who ran it, somehow managed to get in touch with all of the clients himself. The girls just had to be there on various nights, looking and smelling pretty, and taking whatever John Drake threw at them.

This was another thing that had bothered Brenda, and went along with the other reasons to make her finally leave the place.

On the street, she could see and pick her own Johns. If a guy went by that looked particularly grubby, or just had less than no s*x appeal at all, she could always reject any offer that he may make her.

However, at Drake's, she never knew who she was going to let paw her, until it was time to lay down on the bed and spread her legs.

Also, she felt like a prisoner. There had been very strict rules about house behavior, and even behavior when out on the town, if you could call it that in the little village of 8,000 that they were residing in.

She had saved a hell of a lot of money though, because room and board were free at Drake's. He made more than enough clear profit with all of the twenty girls that he housed and rented by the hour, than to have to charge the girls any rent money.

She learned just about everything she would have to know to work the streets, from the girls at the house. True, because of her looks and her incredibly well-developed and built body, she had a lot of enemies at first. But after the girls got to know her, and realized that inside she was truly friendly and warm young lady, they took her under their wing.

Most of the girls that were working the house, unlike herself, had at one time or another worked the streets, and new all of the ropes.

They taught Brenda how to be especially careful about cops, and little things to look for that could tell her if it was a cop or just a John.

They also taught her the importance of regular VD testing, to prevent the spreading, carrying, or infection, of any s*x diseases. This was not only to protect her own self from any physical harm, but also to protect herself from being out of work, for even one day more than necessary.

With all of this helpful knowledge under her brain, and the good wishes of everyone except Drake, who was going to badly miss his largest attraction of the house, Brenda headed for New York to make her fortune.

She flashed quickly on this past life of hers, as the fat man on top of her continued to persist upon entering her. It was particularly hard for her to let him on this night, because it was her last night of prostitution.

This was the very last time that she was ever going to let anyone touch her body for money, unless it was someone she wanted to be in bed with for her own particular desires.

She was twenty-one now, and the last three years had started to jade her, to make her a little cold and hard, and she hated seeing that change in herself.

She wanted to eventually settle down and marry, and raise a family of her own. She knew that if she stayed a prostitute all during her twenties, she would end up like the thirty-two-year-old broads that she saw on other corners of the city streets, sloppy, and selling their souls for nickels and dimes.

Brenda had visions of more for her life, much more indeed. She had a plan in the back of her mind, a plan that only saving a lot of money, and waiting for the right opportunity, was needed to put into operation.

"Come on Sugar, open up that pretty little p***y for daddy," the fat man squashing his weight into her said.

"Okay daddy, f**k your little girl, go ahead and get it over with," Brenda said reluctantly, but realizing that as soon as she got through with this clown and took his money, she would be all through forever with the life of a New York City prostitute.

The man was elated, that he had finally gotten Brenda to approve of his entry. He licked his chops, and made a few loud s*x-type moans, and plunged his fat little pecker into the soft folds of Brenda's love nest.

Brenda knew that in order to get a good tip, and to please the man that she was in bed with, she had to let him at least think that she was enjoying herself.

She did this by starting to moan and quiver. Of course down deep inside of her, she was always repulsed at the idea of a man entering her for money, but nevertheless, it had been a living.

Now that the actual f*****g had started, it was almost a relief. Brenda knew that in a matter of moments her horrible career in body-selling would be ended. She decided that she would get into this last f**k, and make it a good one after all.

She started to thrust her hips upward off the bed, forcing the man's little c**k all the way down into her, at least as far as the pudgy little thing would go.

The man started breathing heavier and heavier, as he realized that the girl that he had just picked up off Eighth Avenue, was finally coming alive.

He had thought that she was a little dull at first, but now he was changing her mind. He felt her squeeze her cunt-lips together, making his little c**k feel like it was wrapped up in a glove.

Her p***y was tight, and now it was starting to get very wet. His c**k started a very steady rhythm, going in and out of her with precision accuracy.

Brenda's moans, which were totally fictitious and created just moments before, suddenly began to turn into real live moans of womanly ecstatic pleasure.

He began to kiss Brenda's neck furiously, sucking the blood to the surface. Brenda was careful to move her neck so that his sucking mouth kept sliding all over the nape of her slender pure-white neck.

She knew that if she let the man kiss her steadily in one single spot for too long, he would surely give her a hickey. A hickey was always a tacky thing, she thought to herself, especially now since she was putting her escape plan into practice the very next day. She surely didn't want to set out in her new life with a s*x-scar from her old life imbedded on her pretty little neck.

The man kissed on relentlessly, as he plowed his love pole in and out of her dripping-wet cunt. He began to really shove into her furiously, and Brenda knew from his increased heavy panting, that it wouldn't be long at all before he was shooting his pent-up fluids of love into her snatch.

Brenda was surprised to find herself more and more stimulated, but this completely unattractive older man. She knew though, that it was the excitement of being with her very last John that was getting her so worked up.

She threw her arms around his waist, and drew him into her, pulling him even tighter into her body. Her huge t**s squashed against his massive hairy chest, and this drove them both crazy.

The man began to slide his weight around on top of her, so that her huge love-jugs slipped back and forth erotically across his bare skin.

He loved the feeling of her huge full breasts. It was her knockers that had caught his eye at first on the street. He had past about ten other whores, all of them looking fairly attractive, before he had come upon Brenda.

She had been wearing a short white mini-skirt, with black stockings. Up top she was wearing a pure-white skin-tight sweater, with no bra.

Her huge knockers stood way out in front of her, proud and strong. Her n*****s, seemingly erect, were protruding against the thin material of the sweater, and the sight had given the John an instant erection.

He had thought at the time, that it was amazing that Brenda's t**s could stand out so firm and full, without any means of support. Little did he know, that for the past two years, Brenda had done all different kinds of exercises to keep her bosoms firm and full, and able to stand without a bra.

She hated the confines of a bra, and hadn't worn one since she was a senior in high school, back in Providence, Rhode Island.

He thought of that first sight, as he now plowed his c**k deeper and deeper into her love crevice. He moved it around, so that he could feel every inch of her monstrous knockers pressing up against his bare-skinned front.

Although the man had a flabby big stomach, Brenda was surprised to find out that as she explored his back with her hands, that once down to his ass, it was round and firm.

She couldn't figure out how his ass could feel so muscular, but dug her fingernails into it and enjoyed it in any case.

The man screamed out, as Brenda's long nails dug into his flesh. But, he made not the slightest motion to her that he wanted her to stop.

He liked being treated a little rough by women, especially women that he had picked up off the street, and was paying for the privilege of being with.

There was something especially exciting about a women's domination, that turned this particular John on. Brenda's quick trained senses picked up on this immediately, and began to slightly slap the man's bottom.

She didn't hit him very hard at first, knowing that every man had his own particular level of tolerance, and what he himself considered to be painful, or pleasurable.

This man, she found out quickly, only edged her on the harder she slapped him. Pretty soon, she was really pummeling his ass with her hands, and his breathing increased more and more heavily, along with his moaning, and in no time at all he had started to come.

Brenda decided to have an orgasm herself. She had made f*****g a career, so she knew her body perhaps better than another women with a different profession may.

She could almost control her orgasm at will, shooting it forward when she wanted to, or holding back if for some reasons the situation called for it.

In this case, she wanted to come. She let herself go, and started a glorious orgasm. Her juices shot out of her cunt, almost as powerfully as the come coming out of a man's c**k.

Her fluids mixed with he John's, and in no time at all, there was a pool of s*x liquid mingling together down at their crotch regions.

Once the orgasm had started, Brenda wanted it over. As soon as whatever s****l feelings she had built up disappeared in the midst of her shaking orgasm, she wanted out.