Iris Gets Lost in Thought

Iris took another long hard drag from the cigarette, the glow of the red embers at the end highlighting the shadow of her form in the shadowy door way. Iris couldn’t figure out what was happening. She had removed her dress. But the world suddenly felt cold and hateful.

She had laid naked on the filthy washroom floor for who knows how long, feeling empty, lacking, and unusually alone. The spiral of depression ended when the janitor came in with his mop. Iris scrambled back into the dress in front of him tossing her stuff in her gym bag in a rush.

Then paused in regret outside for a moment wondering if he could fill her void. That thought had shaken her. Sure she slept around here or there, but usually with purpose. Be it the guy was hot, wealthy, or powerful. She couldn’t even explain why she had reached for the dress and not her jeans. She relished the phantom grope as it momentarily derailed her mind trying to make sense of things.

Shaking her head Iris realized she left her wardrobe bag behind.

Normally Iris would be back in her room browsing where she might instagram from the next day before flying home. Instead she now hid in the shadowy fire exit doors just off of the entry ramp to the loading dock.

Sucking on a cigarette suppressing thoughts of going back for the garment bag and inviting a random to help her undress. She even had thoughts of making it worth their while. Why was she so horny? Why was she feeling sex would make her feel so much better?

"I suggest you eat me out on your knees later." Christina's words rang through her head, the dress seemed to grope all over her, fondling her and provoking a moan.

Flicking the used butt to the curb she popped open the pack and danced another smoke onto her lips with her tongue.

“A beautiful young thang like you shouldn’t burn away their looks on those.” The coarse gruff voice came from outside the door niche. Looking up Iris realized she wasn’t alone. There were three truck drivers, or dock workers, well it didn’t matter to her. Three blue collars having a smoke.

“Oddly I’m not feeling too beautiful tonight.” Iris replied with a hurtful tone illuminating her face as she lit the smoke.

“I’ve seen young hookers looking worse. Much worse.” The voice replied, the guy to his left whistling at Iris as she strutted out into the illuminated sidewalk.

“What are you even doing here. Shows over, the money’s gone. Ain’t exactly a good place to hook either. No one gets to park long enough.” The guy on the right discarded his cigarette shaking his head wondering what this woman was doing here. His Jamaican accent and dark skin contrasted with the gray concrete backlighting him.

“I’m no whore.” Iris snarled back, what she heard of Christina's cock sucking anecdote flashing through her mind.

“Then what are you doing having a cigarette by a bunch of transients waiting for their trucks to get loaded before the disappear into the night?” The coarse voice of the middle guy chimed in.

Iris knew the glint in his eye. She attracted him. Taking a puff she looked out at the street looking for an answer. Here she was, lost in thought. Just another stop along yet another road waiting to disappear to her next venue.

At least they get loaded. Iris though with a smirk. She felt the phantom hands sliding up her sides, the pressure of a body against her ass, the hold of her breasts. The anecdote was about sucking cocks.

More than one. That whore. The thought charged in out of no where, Iris shook her head as it swam between jealousy, anger, and contempt. That someone so inferior should have the ability to claim pleasing more then one cock at a time.

Looking at the three men milling about Iris was wondering what she was doing. Where these thoughts had come from, had what they were doing milling about her mind. What it would feel like for three cocks to spray cum on her face.

“Go on home before life takes a turn you might regret.” The Jamaican shouted as he turned and walked back down the ramp towards his truck, he had no desire to see someone make a poor life choice.

“Not very nice of him.” The coarse voiced trucker commented stepping closer to Iris. She could see his long gray grizzled beard, glasses mounted atop his flared nostrils and weathered face. His beer gut bulged out at least a foot, his belt line eclipsed by its foreboding presence.

“Do you want to know what I was doing in those shadows?” Iris asked almost sincerely, the end of her lipstick trimmed lips curling up in delight as Iris debated continuing this direction.

“Sure.” The coarse voiced trucker responded almost ambivalently offering the other driver another cigarette before holding one out to Iris.

“I was thinking about the void I was feeling inside.” Iris began taking the smoke. “Because you and I aren’t all that different. I come and go like a transient. Stopping only for a few nights. But I don’t always get a load.” Iris monologued to the night her voice growing more sultry and suggestive with every word. “Can you come fill my void?”

“Look I don’t have time for a hook..” The second driver began replying as the coarse voiced driver gazed at Iris in question.

“Who said anything about time. If I can’t get your load before someone comes looking for you I’m not worth the money.” Iris alluringly and confidently uttered before strutting back into the shadowy door niche and crouching down. She pulled up her skirt and spread her legs toying a finger over her clit knowing the two drivers had a clue to her actions in the shadows.

“Is that a guarantee?” The coarse voice seemed to chuckle as a fat wallet was produced and bills counted out and displayed.

Iris questioned what she was doing, the cool night air excited and aroused her wet pussy, her mind thought about alleviating her horniness. Her brain thought about easy money, how she was enjoying this. But questioned if she should.