Disha's Dilemma

To Dan, Disha's beauty seemed amplified by her mocha skin and jet black hair. He watched intently as Disha tucked her near transparent white blouse into her black pleated miniskirt. Even now, in her early-twenties, her school uniform fitted like she was a young sixteen.

For obvious reasons, Dan always loved his wife wearing this particular outfit. He sat in silence on his chair, feeling himself harden as she sat cross legged on the bed, showing a hint of her white cotton panties.

Disha laughed and smiled into the laptop screen until the sound of the bell caused her to stand from the bed.

As with every show, within seconds of her routine starting, Disha was bombarded with requests to show her pussy. But she knew making them wait would earn her more money. Disha began strutting on the black six inch heels, from one corner of the room to the other then back again.

Her strides were confident and her turns were sultry. Every couple of paces, she would ride her skirt high up her nubile thigh while blowing a luscious kiss towards the camera. Every carefully choreographed moved caused the laptop to ring, signalling that the punters approved, lavishing her with tips.

Disha knew her routine well, slipping off her yellow tie before letting it drop through her fingers to the pink carpet.

Out of sight of the lens, Dan rubbed his cock as he watched his wife slowly unbutton her white silky blouse, button by button.

Slowly but deliberately, Disha climbed onto the bed. She knelt in front of the camera, then ever so carefully, let her blouse slip from her tiny shoulders, revealing her black and silver laced plunge bra. On cue, the laptop rang... filling her model account with well earned credits.

Turning her back to the camera, Disha dropped on all fours, pushing her arse up high. Her short platted dress slipped up, exposing her white cotton panties.

Disha peeked over her shoulder and smirked into the camera. She then slapped both her cheeks, pulling them apart, feeling the cotton straining against her nether lips.

Disha giggled as she turned to face the camera. "I think I need some serious tips if you want to see more?" Within seconds her laptop was ringing louder than ever. "I guess I better get started then?"

She reached around her back and unhooked her bra, letting it fall forward and down her long and slender arms.

Her youthful breasts touch the camera as she leaned over to pick up a bottle of massage oil. Spilling some warm oil into her hands she proceeded to massage her glistening tits in front of the lens.

Disha glanced at her husband, who, off cam, continued to wank his hard shaft. Smiling, she focused back on the camera. Closing in to give her punters a close up, she squeezed her breasts together before playing with her large rock-hard nipples.

Resting on her back, Disha kept her legs closed as she raised them into the air. She hooked her thumbs under the elastic straps of her panties, before slowly pulling it down her long silky legs. She then drew her legs in, so she could lift her knickers from her black six inch heels, before throwing it to her husband.

Dan caught the underwear then pressed it against his face. Inhaling deeply, the musky scent of his wife's pussy thrilled his senses. His mouth moistened as he tasted her femininity. Staring at Disha, the idea that she was exposing herself to thousands of people around the world drove him crazy.

Disha slowly spread her long legs, revealing her clean shaven mound. Pulling her pussy lips apart with her fore and middle finger, she exposed her pinkness. Her vixen smile promised much as she explored her vagina before plunging her middle finger deep inside.

The HD camera captured every second of Disha's pleasure. On finding her spot, she threw her head back in ecstasy. Her moans and groans filled the room and echoed down the bandwidth and around the globe.

~

The show had finished and Disha lay exhausted on the bed. Her punters had emptied their wallets and shot their load.

So had Dan. He cleaned himself up then tossed his spent tissue into the litter bin. He climbed on the bed and hugged his wife. "I really appreciate what your doing for us. You're incredible."

"I'm fed up. A bit depressed, really."

Dan groaned as he gazed into Disha's dark shimmering eyes. "I know it would be wrong to say you liked the job, but I thought you liked the money. You earn hundreds a week."

"It's not just about money, though, is it? I'm better than this. I have a masters degree in finance, i shouldn't be stripping for money... no matter how well it pays."

"We're going to get you that spouse visa to allow you to work legitimately. You just need to bide your time."

"Are we though? We need sixty grand... only a miracle would see us get that."

"We don't need the sixty. I just need to earn enough to meet the annual threshold. I've that told you that, a millions times, I'm due a promotion too. So just show a bit of bloody patience."

"Dan. Patience wears thin when you strip online for a living." Disha's voice sounded strained by emotion. "Plus, it's not like i've haven't been patient. You've been telling me about your potential promotion for almost a year."

"I've already explained to my boss about our situation. He seemed very sympathetic."

"Don't talk to me about your boss. I've always told you that John is taking advantage of you. He has no intention of giving you a promotion. Not a fair one, anyway. He's stringing you along like a puppeteer."

"I know what you're saying. But besides the lottery, John is our only hope."

Disha closed her eyes as she slipped into thought. She knew the answer before she even asked, "Don't shut me down. But would you consider coming back with me to Pakistan? Just a couple of years to earn enough money to come back and set up a good life here in the UK?"

"Of course I won't. I'm a white skinned Brit... I wouldn't last a minute."

Disha groaned and pushed her hand on Dan's chest, rolling him off her tiny frame. "Then I have to earn the money by the only means I have."

"Leave it to me. Please."

"I have and it's got us nowhere."

"I've tried my best."

"I know you have. It's just... I wouldn't complain if I wasn't ." Disha felt tears oozing from her tear ducts. "I feel as though i'm wasting my life."

"Plead to your parents. Tell them j"

"They have disowned me because of you.. Besides, I wouldn't give them the satisfaction of seeing me struggle after telling me for so long, how we were a bad match."

Dan swallowed deeply, having been abruptly reminded of his difficult past. "It's not because of me that your parents don't speak to us... it because of their backward, small village mindset."

"I know. It was just a shame we couldn't all come to a compromise."

Dan's let his anger surface. "If you're on about me choosing not to convert... I have my own beliefs. Just as you have yours."

"You know that you didn't have to truly believe. I just wanted you to go along with it to please them."

"I can't live a lie."

"I respect that. But surely it's better than this."

"Listen. the situation infuriates me every bit as much as it does you." Dan put his arm around his beautiful wife then pressed his lips on her temple. "We will be fine... we have a roof over our heads and a kitchen full of good food. Anyway, I married you because I love you. No matter what, we'll be together."

"That's just it... You won't follow me to Pakistan. You made that point perfectly clear."

"I know an answer will come from somewhere. I mean. I never thought a beautiful woman such as you could fall for me. Not to mention near enough sell her body to stay with me."

"It would have been more romantic if you said fight to stay with you, rather sell myself. But maybe that what I will have to do, to put an end to this shitty situation."

"What?"

"Well. I can't be an illegal my whole life. It's not fair. Maybe it will be a sacrifice that will lead to a brighter future for us both " The laptop bleeped to the tune of an incoming email. "That's another customer wondering where I am." Disha glanced at the screen. "Come on, l have to get back."

"What's got into you?"

"I'm ."

"But that ? enough to sell yourself?"

Dish snapped. "If you won't come to Pakistan, then at least let me do this. I'm not naive. I know it will be a nightmare. But least, at some stage, we can fulfill our dreams. "

"But you're my wife?"

"Don't behave all jealous or insecure. It was your idea for me to be cam model while I studied."

"Yes. but?"

"You always fantasized about me with other men."

"Yes. But it was just a silly phase... this is real life. I care for your welfare. At least think about it? Be rational for God's sake.""

"I've been thinking about it for weeks. Look. Dan. Do I have your support or not? Because If I don't... I don't see a bright future for us... I don't think we'll make it as a couple... because i'm damned if i'm going to live my life as a housewife."

"Disha..." Dan could see the fire in Disha's eyes. So bowed his head then muttered. "Yes. Yes you do. You will always have my support."

Disha continued to talk while touching up her makeup in the bedroom mirror. "I really need to get back. Listen, while I'm working, come up with some plans... maybe start looking at setting up webpage or make a list of agencies. But i'm not going to based in some grotty brothel... Aim high."

Disha stared at her computer screen as she typed in the chatroom. The other user present was one of her regular clients BigMike80. A client who she knew was relatively local and one who had she had been exchanging private email with for the past few month or so. Her heart fluttered... but she decided to promote her new services.

You: Hi

BigMike80: Hi Disha

You: Got some good news xxx

BigMike80: Great. Hit me.

You: Well, u knw u keep askin if I do... escorting

BigMike80: PLEASE GOD!!

You: Only if the price is right of course.

BigMike80: Rates?

You: What do you think i'm worth?

BigMike80: Well, to my limited experience... I can get a good looking girl for around £150 quid an hour.

You: I can earn almost that, just by modelling. Plus i'm more than just... good looking. Right?

BigMike80: Of course. I'd go higher to taste your sweet pussy.

You: So?

BigMike80: £300

You: £500 and you pay all expenses - room, my travel etc.

BigMike80: Jesus. £500??? I hope you mean rupees, not pound sterling.

You: £500 Sterling.

BigMike80: £450

You: 500 per hour.

BigMike80: Deal. God. You drive a hard bargain. Can tell you're Asian.

You: I'll be worth it.

Disha already had her first client... but immediately felt out of her depth.