Late Night Munchies

Part I: Appetite

by Thongliona Thongberry

Author's Note: This story was inspired by "Baby One More Time" by Britney Spears. I recommend that you listen to it while reading this story; I certainly did while writing it!

Her breathing was heavy, and forced, as it came out in small pants.

She moaned—with pleasure, with pain—even she couldn’t tell anymore, the two sensations mixing themselves within her blood, churning as she thrust her hips forward.

She howled out into the night, a primal scream of lust—or was it disgust?

“You didn’t have to bite so hard!” she scolded her client.

Her young lover blushed. “Sorry,” murmured the barely legal 18-year-old. “I … I was just so excited! This is my first time, you know.” Her blush deepened and she looked away.

“Whatever. Get back to it. I can see I’ve got my work cut out for me.”

Leanna sighed as she lay back and her young protégé began to munch again. This business wasn’t as cushy as it had seemed in the beginning. She had thought that coaching young women entering the business of prostitution would pay better and have better hours and more job control than her former job, as a hooker—excuse me, escort service employee—but, as it always seemed to turn out, she had been completely wrong. Her young charges came to her often as virgins, with no knowledge of anything sexual. And those who did have experience had far too much in all the wrong ways. The things that they knew, they had to forcibly unlearn in order to take on their new professions. Plus, most of them were dirt poor, and their new pimps were paying the price of their lessons for them. Which meant that payment had to be upfront, or not at all—which lost her a lot of business.

But at least I get paid for the work that I actually do! Leanna thought, unlike a lot of women in my position, who give them “credit,” which we all know they never intend on paying. Leanna smirked. Having lived under a pimp for two hellish years of her life, she knew exactly how their minds operated, and what to do to avoid getting scammed by them. One pimp was pretty much the same as another, she had learned in the past few years as a prostitute trainer.

Shaking her head to rid herself of these thoughts and memories, she looked down at the head that lay in between her legs, eager to please—and yet, so wrong in technique! Leanna sighed. How could it be that, by learning all the sexual techniques, and teaching them to young women every day—having these women actually perform such techniques upon her, and her male partner, Dodge—seemed to take all the joy out of sex? She thought of it in technical terms now, not pleasurable terms. Sure, a prostitute had to do such things. But even when she was with a girl or guy for pure pleasure these days, she couldn’t help doing a mental critique of them—and they all ended up failing to pass her test, failing to grant her pleasure. And so she had to take care of that herself for the past several years, since she had become a teacher.

She knew, however, that the amazing vastness of her knowledge made her a desirable sexual partner to anyone—and many had heard the tales of her sexual prowess. So, they kept on calling, and she kept on accepting their offers, hoping to find that one person who could match her in bed. The search, unfortunately, was still on.

Sometimes, she thought that the only person who would ever be able to match her sexual prowess was her business partner, Dodge—a man who’s knowledge of sexual techniques surpassed even her own, and who she had firmly told herself was off limits. After all, a sexual relationship with a business partner would never work out.

In fact, one of the reasons she and Dodge had become business partners in the first place was because neither was attracted to the other—which would make their relationship much simpler, based purely on business and friendship, with no sexual or romantic feelings involved.

But recently, all that had started to change. Dodge, a tall man with reddish-brown hair and eyes that, until recently, Leanna had never thought of as sexy, had shaved off his beard—revealing the face of a god. Leanna had found herself caught staring at him the first day she had come to work and seen him like that. She had never realized how incredibly attractive he was! Plus, the new tattoo on his arm that he had showed her—also revealing her the amazing biceps that could only belong to a man who worked out more than once a week—had made her knees tremble with its utter sexiness. Not to mention the piercing!

Leanna was a sucker for men with tattoos and piercings. Plus, she loved men without any facial hair!

Her dangerous attraction to her partner, therefore, had been growing lately, and she had to forcefully suppress it.

But it was getting harder with each passing day.

The man was just too damn sexy!

And, unfortunately, Leanna was quite sure that this newly formed attraction was completely once-sided. She had seen no indication that Dodge thought of her as anything other than a business partner and an occasional friend. This made her want to cry more often then not; but she managed to resist the urge quite nicely, taking up hobbies instead.

Leanna shuddered beneath the girl’s mouth, but not from the horribly inadequate ministrations going on down there. Sewing, cooking, reading. Leanna closed her eyes and thought of all the stupid, stupid hobbies she had been forced to take up in order to keep her mind off of dirty thoughts of her partner. She hated hobbies!

In the end, she had just given up, and succumbed to her passions, stealing a large glossy photo of him from his desk and putting it in the drawer in her nightstand, next to her bed, so she could touch herself at night while she looked at him, her eyes glazed over with passion as she imagined that it was his fingers touching her, his mouth on her breasts, his face—or rather, the back of his head—that appeared in the mirror above her head.

She even imagined him in place of her current lovers these days! Last week, when she had let young Ron take a go at her, just to see what he could do, she had looked up into the mirror above her bed and imagined that the head bobbing up and down between her legs was a thick head of reddish-brown hair, not matted, greasy yellowish strands that stuck out in every which direction. In fact, despite Ron’s utter lack of skill, Leanna had found that, by imagining that it was Dodge down there, she had actually been able to reach a climax—thus giving herself pleasure, and inflating Ron’s fragile ego at the same time.

Too bad she would never be able to experience the real thing.

The alarm clock next to her went off, and she sat up quickly, shoving away the head of the young girl without a shred of gentleness in her touch.

“Out,” she commanded harshly, turning off the alarm clock and putting on her white silk robe. “Lessons are over for today.”

The girl looked at her, tears in her eyes. “But please, Miss Leanna, please just let me try once more! I’ll make it up to you, I promise, please just one more try—”

“No!” Leanna cried harshly, cringing at the thought of that horribly unskilled mouth upon her person again. “Just schedule your next lesson with Dodge, and tell your pimp that you’re better off working the male customers, because the females would all demand their money back!”

The girl looked so completely crushed, and for a moment Leanna had an attack of consciousness. After all, she, too, had once been a young girl like that, fresh-scrubbed and hopeful about her new career, looking forward to all the money she would make, and all the sex she would have—at the same time!

However, some things are, indeed, too good to be true.

Prostitution is one of those things.

Leanna wouldn’t relive those years over again even if it gave her another ten years of life. She wanted to forget them. And if she had a choice to erase everything that had happened and start over with another choice—she would do it in an instant. Better to have never lived those years than to wake up in the middle of the night, screaming, after another nightmare. And having Dodge, who lived in the same building as her, but across the hall, come running into her room to comfort her, embarrassing her even more that her screams had been loud enough to reach him all the way across the hall. And embarrassing her even more when her lust became apparent, the covers soaking wet—and not just from sweat.

Leanna sighed and turned to the girl, a look of pity in her eyes. The girl saw that look, and immediately became indignant.

“I don’t want your pity!” she cried at Leanna, “You don’t know what it’s like! You don’t know what kind of hell I’m going through, what kind of hell I’ll be going through for the next few years of my life! You could never understand!”

A single tear fell down Leanna’s cheek. She didn’t bother to brush it away, not wanting to bring attention to her weakness. “I understand a lot more than you think,” she whispered to the confused girl. “If you’d like some advice, get out now. Once you get in, only a miracle can get you out. It took me eight years to find my miracle. Eight whole years.” Leanna shuddered. “And I was one of the lucky ones. Whatever you do … always have other options. Don’t get caught like I did. And if a pimp ever says that you owe him anything … run. Run as fast as you can. Even if it costs you your life. Death would be better than living like that.” She lifted her eyes to meat the girl’s startled look. “Trust me. I know.”

And with that, Leanna turned and left the room, her arms hugging her body tightly as she tried to ward off memories, leaving a stunned young girl in her wake, contemplating her options, and then quietly leaving the premises, never to return.

Other Stories by Thongliona Thongberry available at Eroticambrosia:

Legend of the Lost Thong

Eroticambrosia