He throws her out

(This concludes the translated chapters of sammycolt the reason i did this was because i plan on continuing from this branch with my own original twist thanks to sammycolt for allowing me to translate and post these chapters)

The old man was slowly catching his breath, while Max still struggled unsuccessfully to get her twitching limbs under control. Groaning, he sat up and briefly enjoyed the sight that presented itself to him. Max knelt on all fours in front of the sofa, her ass pointing straight at him, as if offering herself to him again. He let his gaze slide over the bare skin in front of him, over the sweaty caramel-colored back, the slim, toned thighs, the firm, trembling buttocks, and then at her wrinkled little asshole, blinking at him between the quivering cheeks, and her wet , still spasmodically twitching pussy. He smiled blissfully, then looked up and his eyes roamed over the cameras that were spread around the room and had recorded everything. They usually did this to film his guests at their meetings so he could later **** them with the video footage. But this time what he had recorded was much more valuable to him. Now he would cut that and edit it a bit and he would have a first-class porn. He could sell that on the streets of Seattle and make a lot of money off it. His gaze fell on Max again and he had to giggle softly. She had no idea what kind of star she would soon be in Seattle's porn industry. He imagined her face when guys in the bar or club asked her out about being the little Latina slut who let the old geezer fuck her ass in this video and got so horny. The image made his cock twitch again and he seriously considered for a moment going over her again, but a glance at his watch told him it was time to get rid of the little whore. A business partner would be coming soon and it was not appropriate to greet them naked and reeking of sex. After all, he had his principles! He sighed. Actually a shame to kick out this horny fuck hunk, but he was too old to keep a sex ****. This would only go wrong... He swung back and slapped her upraised ass. She squealed shrilly and whirled around to glare at him.

"So, you cheap bitch," he said unperturbed, "We're even. You can go, so get out of here!"

Max caught his breath for a moment. "Hey, wait a minute," she yelled angrily, "that wasn't the deal! I fucked you because you were supposed to take me home!” Panic choked her throat. If grandpa didn't help her, she'd be in even more shit than before. The heat and **** haze had evaporated and shame at what she had done made her blush

"Bullshit," he growled, "you fucked me because you're a slut in heat and you were horny for my big cock. I never said I'd take you home, I don't have time for that. I saved your ass and in return I got to pull you through. We're even."

"But...", Max stammered, "How am I supposed to get home now?"

"I don't see that this should be my problem, you stupid bitch!" he growled, "But because I'm such a nice guy, I'll help you out! There's clothes in that box over there! You can have it!”

Relieved and grateful, Max looked at him, then turned to the shoe box that was sitting in a dusty corner. She pounced on it and ripped open the lid. Suddenly she stopped and frowned. With pointed fingers she took out one of the articles of clothing and examined it piquedly. According to her vocabulary, what she was holding didn't fall under 'garments'

"You can't be serious!" she blurted out.

"You are in no position to be picky! Take it or leave it!” groaned the old man, who was just stepping into his pants again.

Max swallowed as she stared at the contents of the box in disbelief. But in the end she had ****...

She hastily put on what little the old man had left her. It was just a skirt and a top. And even these descriptions were pure exaggeration. They looked like the old bastard had stolen them from some street hooker, and that thought didn't seem so far-fetched to Max. The top was black. It had spaghetti straps and showed a huge décolleté. That was still tolerable for Max, she found it worse that it ended right under her nipples and even showed the undersides of her breasts. One quick movement and they would roll out! She was also ashamed of the imprint: 'Fickbitch' was written in bold, golden letters. In addition, the previous owner appeared to be less well endowed, with the top snugly enclosing her breasts and clearly showing her nipples

Max thought the skirt was even worse. He was pink and made of latex and stretched around her ample hips like a second skin. To call it rock, however, was pure mockery. It was more of a wide belt. Even when it was in the best position, it left a fair bit of ass cracking at the top and the base of her ass cheeks at the bottom, and with every step any attentive observer would see her bare pussy peeking out. On top of that, he was constantly riding up and exposing more, so she had to pull him down every few seconds.

Max desperately studied her reflection in the half-blind mirror next to the front door. Ie was glad not to be naked anymore, but it wasn't much better. If she saw anyone who knew her, she would be mortally disgraced.

Suddenly the old man came up behind her and scrutinized her closely, his hands wandered around her and he kneaded her tits. She turned her head and looked at him sourly, "Very nice, little one! Suits you!” he grinned. He leaned down and abruptly kissed her directly on the lips, his tongue poking into her mouth. Max's eyes widened in surprise. Her heat was gone and all she felt now at the man who had just brought her to a screaming orgasm was disgust. To her he was just a disgusting, horny old sack. However, she was too perplexed to fight back.

But it distracted her and so she didn't notice how he quietly opened the door behind her back, until he suddenly broke his lips from hers and pushed her gently in front of the door. She stared at him speechless. Grinning, he reached out and stuck a rolled-up five dollar bill between her tits.

"Here, that should do it, the rest is tip you whore!" he hissed, "Now get out before I get my shotgun!"

Max looked at him in disbelief. The fact that he was now paying her like a cheap whore was too much for her. Tears of humiliation welled up in her eyes and she turned and ran as fast as she could on her bootees down the stairs and out of the hovel. After sitting on the curb crying for a while, she got up, wiped away the tears and started walking home. She carelessly threw the bill away, she didn't want a whore's wages.

Upstairs in the room, the old man absentmindedly ran his thumb over the card that the youth had given him earlier as payment for the **** delivery. "Max Guevara," it said, "Jam Pony Courier Service," next to a photo of the girl he'd just fucked. It was her sector pass. Those things were worth a small fortune. And he wasn't done with the little whore either