Renegotiate

Emma lowered her pants as slowly as she could. The act of having sex for money had her turned on enough to move forward, but she was not in the mood for anything up her butt. Baring the pale globes of her ass to Mike, she said, "No anal. You can have my pussy, for one hundred dollars."

Mike ran his hand over her backside as he thought it over. Emma feared that he would remain as forceful as he had been a moment ago, and she wished she had pepper spray in her purse. So far she was not a very street wise prostitute.

Mike got up on the seat behind her, hunching over her. Emma closed her eyes and prayed that this scenario wouldn't get out of hand. Emma didn't know who the patron saint of street walkers was, but she silently thanked them anyway when Mike said, "OK fine."

Emma was relieved. She sighed as Michael rubbed a finger through the folds of her moistening sex. Then she heard herself say, "Money first, Mike." She might get the hang of this yet.

After a moment, Mike gruffly tossed a folded up bill at her. Emma was doing this just for the thrills, but she started to think back to some of the cute things she saw in the shops yesterday, and gave more than a little consideration to a new line of work.

Michael was pressed up against her, his chest on her back. His cock poked at her lips, then slowly filled her hole. Condoms, she thought. If I'm going to be doing this then I need to start bringing condoms. Or start taking her pill again. She hadn't taken her birth control since she arrived at the house. Emma realized she was very bad at being a prostitute.

She tried to convince herself that Mike was married, so he probably didn't have a lot of sexual partners, and she was most likely safe. But it was a bit difficult to ignore the fact that he was currently having sex with a hooker, using no protection.

Mike was thrusting quickly, not bothering to pretend to be interested in if she was getting anything out of this or not. The position they were in was cramped and uncomfortable, but Emma couldn't deny the pleasure of having Mike inside of her, and the thrill of being used. One day she would have to explore some of this with a well paid psychiatrist.

For now, she reminded herself that she was at work and she should be doing her job. "Yeah, Daddy, fuck me." Emma said on impulse. She immediately regretted it. She had never been good at role playing, and the words were a little too close to home right now.

Mike humped her faster. Apparently he approved of her dirty talk. "Yeah? You like that, little skank? You want Daddy's hot cum in your filthy twat?"

Emma pushed her butt back to match Mike's motions and reminded herself that the customer was always right. "Yes, Daddy. Cum in me, Daddy." She was glad that Mike couldn't see her face. She was embarrassed and grossed out by her own words.

Mike reached up and pawed at her breasts. Emma did her best to pull her shirt up and expose top half for Mike, but her bra was in the way and she couldn't do anything about it in the cramped backseat.

Michael didn't care. He groped her tits, through her bra, snaking a finger inside the cup to tweak her nipple. Emma let herself be manhandled and Mike have his fun. Every so often she would mutter a "Yes, Daddy," to encourage him. The married man hammered away at Emma, using her for his needs. Then it was over. Mike raised up a bit, grumbling when his head hit the car roof, then he lurched forward a last time and held himself in Emma.

There was something satisfying about having Mike cum in her, but it was not enough to bring her to her own climax.

Mike rolled off of her and sat down beside her. His face was level with her still upraised ass. He leaned over and gave her a sweet kiss right on her butt cheek. "Not bad, Emma. For a girl that I picked up at the bus stop, you make a half-way decent prostitute."

"Thanks," she said dryly as she pulled her pants up. They both got back in the front of the car and headed back to the bus stop. Before Mike dropped her off, he asked for her number so they could _go out _again sometime. Emma gave him her number and thanked him for everything. Mike laughed, told her that she was welcome, then drove off back to work.

Emma walked back to the lake house slowly. She was having a hard time processing her own actions, and wondering why she did some of the things she did. She knew she was acting out, but was afraid that she may have taken things too far. Then again, her level of arousal, and the hundred dollar bill in her purse, made her think that maybe this wasn't that bad.