Outcalls: The Deep South

Kasey had actually set this one up. Her cousin Mira had just started interning for this guy in high school. He was a young lawyer, just back down from New York, a fancypants boy with a beautiful wife.

Her pictures adorned his office, but he was a traitorous husband. A traitorous, deviant man. But he had money, and money trumped most else in your books, as a whore.

"Nice woman," you said lamely, inspecting what looked like a beauty queen.

"Yeah, she's alright," the john, Douglas responded distractedly, pouring himself another glass of whiskey. "Think sometimes about setting her up with a black man."

"Oh?" you said. You shifted uncertainly in your seat. "I dunno about that. Once they go Black ..."

"Yes, yes, they don't go back," Douglas responded. "That's the point. I want her to pick one of her own volition, and stick with him."

You were of a like mind with him in some ways you thought. Only your problems were caused by physical maladies, and his was a mental compulsion.

You knelt for him, pulling out his small white cock. It was a disappointment to you, but you wrapped your skilled lips around the shaft, sucking it wetly and wantonly. He came after a few minutes, and then he sent you to service one of his frenemies, Rocco. At least Rocco sounded hung.