the first client

It was still too early to go to work. The club hadn't opened yet, my reports were written, so I first strolled aimlessly through the shopping streets of our city. I missed the vibrator that was still in the drawer. If I had had him with me he could have done me good service in a quiet little place.

But then I stood in front of this shoe store and looked at my reflection. A gray mouse could be seen there. An inconspicuous woman who hid her figure under stuffy clothes that were much too wide. Jeans that are much too wide, sports shoes, a sweatshirt, hair tied in a ponytail, as always, face almost without make-up, only spiced up with a touch of mascara. I had never seen myself like this. My looks, the sex, what people thought of me or whether they found me sexy, I was never interested. I only lived for my career and I wanted to make it without my female charms helping me. But now I could have puked at the sight of me. No wonder I couldn't seduce Uwe. Or was he just a philistine who only cared about his career and what was happening in the world. I just couldn't bear to look at it, so I looked at the display of this exclusive store. A pair of the boots on display immediately caught my eye. Black long boots made of the finest leather, the shaft without a zipper. These boots stood confidently without any aids, the leather was so firm and then these at least 10cm high stiletto heels gave the boots their dominant appearance. I had to own these boots and so after an extensive test run in the shop they became my property. 400 euros changed hands. I would have loved to have kept them. But what did that look like? High heels over worn out wide jeans? And wearing these boots under pants would have been a no-go. New pants were needed, and they had to be right away. In contrast to the expensive boots, I got hold of stretchy artificial leather jeans in a shop specially set up for sexy girls. Loud music, garishly made-up saleswomen and young women who, of course, only wore bare midriffs with their navel piercings. I also had a crop top when leaving the shop. I had left my old clothes in the shop and ordered them to collect old clothes. I would never wear stuff like that again. I proudly stumbled to “my” club with my stomach bare, leather jeans and the hot new boots. Today I didn't want to sit in the corner. I would take a chance and look for a suitor. garishly made-up saleswomen and young women who, of course, wore only bare midriff clothes with their navel piercings. I also had a crop top when leaving the shop. I had left my old clothes in the shop and ordered them to collect old clothes. I would never wear stuff like that again. I proudly stumbled to “my” club with my stomach bare, leather jeans and the hot new boots. Today I didn't want to sit in the corner. I would take a chance and look for a suitor. garishly made-up saleswomen and young women who, of course, wore only bare midriff clothes with their navel piercings. I also had a crop top when leaving the shop. I had left my old clothes in the shop and ordered them to collect old clothes. I would never wear stuff like that again. I proudly stumbled to “my” club with my stomach bare, leather jeans and the hot new boots. Today I didn't want to sit in the corner. I would take a chance and look for a suitor. Leather jeans and the hot new boots to "my" club. Today I didn't want to sit in the corner. I would take a chance and look for a suitor. Leather jeans and the hot new boots to "my" club. Today I didn't want to sit in the corner. I would take a chance and look for a suitor.

It should be my lucky day. After I had willingly left the first customers to my colleagues, I already wanted to give up my plan. It was just after midnight. Should I really have slept with one of those two fat scruffy guys?

But luck was on my side. There he was. An African American, broad-shouldered, at least 1m85 tall. With a confident demeanor. Why did someone like that get into the whorehouse? He could have laid any woman. And my heart was in my throat. My guilty conscience towards Uwe was forgotten. How should I address him? I really should learn how to flirt.

I really couldn't think of anything better than to shake one of those long thin cigarettes Jasmin smoked out of the pack and ask him for a light.

The gesture I made was clear and so he lit my cigarette with his lighter. "Eve" was the brand of cigarettes. Even though my lungs burned when I inhaled, I now know that these cigarettes are the weakest one can smoke.

James, that was the name of the dark-skinned boy, hardly understood a word of German. What little he spoke to me was clear. He looked me up and down and seemed to like what he saw. I was wearing a shiny red top, cropped, the short tight leather mini Peter had laid out for me and my new boots. I secretly called them "fuck boots". I wore shiny red lipstick to match my blouse, I wore heavy make-up with dark eyes and I borrowed golden hoop earrings from Sarah.

James was a direct man. "I want to fuck you beautiful Mistress" he whispered in my ear.

"Ok, come on lover, fuck me!" I whispered back and we were in my room less than 5 minutes after greeting each other. I had actually finished smoking the cigarette.

James got straight to the point. Even before he undressed, he had the requested coal ready and went kneeling between my legs. He skilfully took off my thong and began kissing and licking my column tenderly but also demandingly. I stood over him imperiously and spread my legs and enjoyed his warm, hard tongue. "Come on, lick my pussy," I demanded. "Faster, harder" I gave the commands. And James followed. He was experienced, no doubt. You could lick it. Just before I was allowed to experience my first orgasm as a "professional". he stopped abruptly. He got up, dropped his pants and his boxer shorts. Man what a sight a black erect cock, shiny, thick and just as women imagine it, damn long. I didn't stand a chance against his hard grip and so he **** me to my knees. "Take it Whore" he whispered to me. And I took it carefully. "Deeper" he demanded. I gathered all my courage and obeyed. "Deeper" he demanded again. And so, shortly thereafter, for the first time in my life, I felt a cock on my throat suppository. I inevitably gagged and he was enjoying himself. I had tears in my eyes but it was a divine feeling. He fucked me in the mouth over and over again until she vomited. My make-up ran under my tears of lust. "You dirty whore. I wanna fuck you right now" he whispered to me in his deep voice. "Fuck me you dirty bastard" I asked him. I was in a trance as he steered me onto my bed. And then he penetrated my wet whore cunt. Regardless, without mercy. He thrust the full length of his cock into my horny hole and I picked him up. An orgasm rolled over me like a steam locomotive. Had I ever come so hard? Never. James slowed his pace. He now turned his attention to my boots. Stroked the cold leather, put a heel in his mouth and sucked it off. It made me horny to enjoy this momentary submissive sight before he took control again to fuck me with long, fast thrusts. "You make me crazy, dirty bitch" were his words. "Fuck me Nigga, fuck my white Snatch I'm your dirty Fuckwhore" I was in a trance. I didn't care if my words were ethnically correct or not. The word nigga fired him up and he got even faster, even warmer in my cunt. And again I was allowed to take over the dominant role for a short time. I was still lying on my back. He took my bootlegs in his hands, guided my pointed heels to his nipples and shifted his body weight forward until I could see the pain in his eyes. I liked the game. He wanted to fuck me, but in this position I could control how deep I wanted his cock inside me. He tried to fuck deeper and I braced my heels against his nipples. I enjoyed his thrusts but also his pain. Again it came to me violently. But now he had had enough of the pain. He took my boot tops in both hands, pushed them away from his nipples, spread my legs and fucked me like only a whore fucks. "Cry you dirty prostitute, cry. And I screamed, screamed my lust through the entire club. I would not have thought, that someone with such a big cock could fuck at such a speed but James could. He grew louder, moaning. Deftly, he pulled his tail back one last time. Removed his condom and his hot cream shot all over my stomach. James was no romantic. While I was almost ****, fucked and lying motionless on my bed, he already put on shorts and pants. Another bill flew onto my bedside table. With the words "See you next time beautiful lady" he left my room. When I later came into the guest room with fresh make-up and renewed lipstick, he had already disappeared. I thought like a phantom. Satisfied and happy, I sat down on a leather couch. The champagne tingled in my goblet and I lit a new cigarette. I was a hooker