Change of Plans Ch. 03

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A proposition with a twist.
8.2k words
4.79
25.1k
27

Part 3 of the 5 part series

Updated 09/22/2022
Created 06/22/2011
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*Note: Hey guys, sorry it took so long for me to update, my editor is now MIA, or she just abandoned me, I'm not sure which, either way, new editor please. This chapter is a lot longer than my previous chapters and I put a lot of thought into it, thus the long wait. Hopefully I can update a lot faster from now on. As always, do not be afraid to comment or critique. Please vote, and also, please don't send me racist smut. It's unneccessary. Enjoy my three page child.

-Naomi :)

P.S. if there are any problems with the formatting, please let me know.

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It was rare for a guy to ever to go down on her, they all feared disease, but that wasn't to say that it had never happened before. Before Billy became a prostitute, she had already had sex and was well versed in giving and receiving pleasure.

She had become a prostitute at the age of 19 to help when the debt collectors had begun to gather around her. She needed to make ends meet and sex wasn't sacred to her after the age of sixteen.

In the beginning, she was very selective about the men that she let rut on top of her, she wanted attractive men. Blonde hair and blue eyes with a six pack or a man that was intelligent, she was a bit more naïve back then. Thinking that she had a choice or that the type of men that came would look decent, she learned quickly how things truly were. At the age of twenty-one she took up drinking and let her body numb over and her mind wander, she let her heart harden against the world and refused her body pleasure during any sessions. Occasionally men would want to help her out and some had even offered to go down on her, but she was never keen on the idea.

This time it was different. A man that was attractive had taken the risk and had knowingly gone down on a prostitute. She loved most of what had happened and was still reeling from her first partner inflicted orgasm in four to five months. For the most part she just used her fingers; spending money on a plastic phallus seemed pointless. She wasn't worried about him catching a disease; so far she had remained untouched by a STD and hell, if it could happen in Pretty Woman, why the hell couldn't it happen to her?

Billy was sitting on the bed after a long, hot shower. Her long hair that had been bone straight and down to mid back was now scrunched up in tight, wet curls around her shoulders. When she had gone into the bathroom she had had to explore all the nooks till she finally discovered some soap and shampoo under the sink. She had stepped into the shower with her newly acquired cleaning products and had tripped a little bit and dropped them all over the floor. The shower was set deeper into the ground than it appeared. When she stumbled farther into the shower she rolled her ankle and felt a sharp pain shoot up through her calf. It wasn't too bad of a pain, but she didn't want to cause any unnecessary stress on her recently abused ankle, so she sat on the floor and let the hot water beat at her body while she tried to lather up faster than it would rinse off.

When she had come out of the steaming bathroom wrapped in a thick, fluffy, cotton towel there were clothes waiting on the bed for her. There was a pair of small shorts made out of some sort of plush fabric and tank top that molded to her skin when she put it on. Whoever put those clothes out for her had foregone the panties and her dirty clothes had been gone when she came out.

She was sitting down on the bed putting her thick hair up into two French braids when there was a booming knock on the door. She called out for them to come in and waited for the sound of the door swinging open before she looked up. A man came in rolling a cart with some covered plates on it.

"Hello Ma'am," the man said, "I'm Harold and this here is your dinner." Harold was a tall man with a regal posture and a gleaming, kind smile. The lines on his face were all arched around the corner of his mouth and scrunched up in the corners of his eyes. Harold had lived a life of vast happiness and his lines were filled with stories untold.

Billy was a little taken back when she was referred to as "Ma'am" and a bit confused that someone was serving her dinner. Harold walked father into the room and placed the cart between the bed and the windows.

"Thank you," Billy said while staring at the cart. She heard a whispered, "you're welcome," before the door was quietly closed.

She uncrossed her legs and walked over to the cart. There were two large carafes, one of orange juice and another of ice water; and two plates on the cart that were covered in one of those metal domes that you would usually see in movies. She uncovered the larger of the two plates and her mouth instantly began to water at what was under. There were two fried chicken legs and some green beans and a mound of mash potatoes with two buttery rolls leaning sideways against them. She ignored the smaller of the two plates for the moment and grabbed the larger one and a fork and sat on the bed again and began to dig in. Once she was done with the food she ignored the cups on the cart and drank the ice water straight out of the carafe. When she was done drinking her fill she walked over to the cart and lifted the lid of the smallest plate. There was a small cupcake on the plate. It was a lavender cupcake with green frosting and pink flower petals that were made of fondant on top. Billy sucked in a deep breath and just stared at the cupcake. She felt as though she couldn't eat it, it was too pretty and she'd rather have the cupcake sit there and stay as it was than for her to litter it with teeth marks and saliva strips. Billy picked up the small plate and gently put it on the small bedside table next to the bed. She straightened up the cart and tried to make everything as it was when the cart had first come into the room. Then she walked over to the bed and slid herself under the covers and let her body relax and sink into the plush mattress beneath her. She rolled onto her side and looked at the cupcake. Something so beautiful and delicate and, probably, delicious, and she couldn't eat it. She didn't want to taint something so pure. She stared at the cupcake and let her eyes drift shut, her last thoughts of innocence lost.

When she woke up the next day she felt new and fresh. The cupcake that had been on the table next to she was gone and a cart was in the same place with a new set of plates and freshly topped off carafes with the addition of a pot of coffee. After savoring every bite of egg and relishing the crunch of the toast between her teeth she washed it all down with a cup of coffee, lots of cream and two packs of sweet n' low, and decided that it was time to do her job. Though she yearned more so for his affection than his body, she decided to pursue the one that was most attainable at the time. She went into the bathroom and cleaned up, brushed her teeth and combed out her hair; before the day was out she was going to fuck her employer.

She strode out of the bathroom with the confident gait of a super model and marched herself over to the door connecting their rooms and raised her fist to knock on the door. As she was about to knock on the door she lost her nerve and let her hand limply fall to her side. He would come when he wanted to; she had no right to be some brash slut, she needed to be patient. She raised her hand once more and placed her palm flat against the door and leaned her forehead against the cool wood surface. She could picture him on the other side now.

Him in a pair of plaid pajama pants and nothing else, his hair mussed up in a sexy just-rolled-out --of-bed way, and his eyes without their cold hardness and instead filled with smoldering desire. Her other hand traveled up the side of her thigh and to the top of the waistband of her small sleep shorts. She let her hand delve in between the plush material and her silky skin towards her aching pussy. As she was nearing the hot opening the door opened suddenly and she lost her balance, she collapsed forward with her hand down her pants. She landed awkwardly on her arm and felt a sharp pain in her shoulder and let out a strangled grunt. She lied still for a moment before she pulled her hand out of her pants and forced herself to get up. She kept her eyes glued to the floor as she stood to her feet with no help from him. She continued to look at the ground as she adjusted her clothes and wiped her fingers on her shorts, her face was on fire and her shoulder was throbbing a little. She resisted the urge to stare at the ground and raise her hand to her throbbing shoulder and instead raised her eyes to his face and kept her hands straight at her side.

Those eyes, it would always be those eyes. Whether they were hardened with his emotional wall or softened by shock and adrenaline, she could always drown in them. They were just as stony as ever and the rest of his face was set. She gave him a coy, embarrassed smile while her hands clenched into tight, white knuckled balls around the fabric of her pajama shorts. His eyes were fixed on her mouth and she bit her bottom lip in embarrassment. His eyes lit a little and he subconsciously licked his own lips. During his temporary obsession with her lips she took in his fresh-from-sleep state. His arms were just as muscled as she had originally imagined and his abs were cut into a six pack. He wasn't in plaid pajama pants like she thought he would be he was in steel grey athletic sweats with a number on the upper thigh of the right pant leg. She did an up and down of his body again before she let her eyes rise to his face. The corners of his mouth and eyes were pristine and his cheeks glowed with good health. She looked at his thick head of hair and gave a genuine smile at the mussed quaffs of hair and the small cow lick at the crown of his head. He seemed like a cute guy that could be her boyfriend until her eyes were locked with his again.

He held her gaze and opened his arms to her. His eyes still hadn't softened and she was a bit confused as to what he was inviting her to.

"Come here," he said in a soft, commanding voice.

She kept her gaze locked to his and walked until she was in his arms. He wrapped them around her and stroked her back gently. She took in deep breaths of his scent and smiled at the spice that filled her nose. She wrapped her own arms around the small of his back and sighed in contentment as she relaxed and lived in the illusion of her mind. She leaned her head back and kissed his chest right over where his heart is and smiled and the taste of him on her lips.

She was about to place her head back on his chest when she felt her head being yanked back by her hair. She crushed her eye lids shut and tried to live in her illusion a little bit longer. She felt his mouth descend upon her neck and felt him scrape his teeth against her skin and his tongue lave against where he nipped her with his canines. She sighed and continued to imagine it as she wanted it to be until she felt him bite down on the skin where her shoulder and neck melted together. Her arms were trapped under his and she couldn't break away from him as he continued to bite down on her neck in various spots with both his blunt and sharp teeth. She tried to pull her arms from underneath his and push him away, but he just held her tighter.

"Stop moving," he breathed in her ear.

Her illusion shattered she wrapped her arms around him again and bared her neck; she would take what he would give. He nipped her ear lobes and bit her jaw line as he moved from one side of her neck to the other. He began to sprinkle kisses in between bites and licks and soon her stopped biting her all together. He nuzzled his face into the crook of her neck and took slow deep breaths. His hand detangled from her hair and he began to rub her back again as he nuzzled her. She wrapped her arms around him and contemplated the thought of building up another illusion but decided against it, the shattering of the last one was too much and she couldn't handle another. His hand trailed up her back leaving goose bumps behind, and delved into her curls. Her shoulders were tense with the expectancy of pain from him pulling on her hair but his hand massaged her scalp instead and soothed the pain he had caused.

He turned his head against her neck until his mouth was level with her ear and he sucked the lobe into his mouth. His tongue played with her lobe while his hand massaged her scalp and he held her tight, it was so tempting to lose herself, but she refused. He held onto her for a moment longer before he pulled back from her. Her eyes zoomed in on his and saw that the wall had gone.

"You smell good," he whispered.

She looked at the vulnerability that was visible in his eyes and raised her hand to his face.

"So do you," she whispered back.

Her hand trailed lightly on his face from his forehead down to his chin. She smiled a genuine, teeth baring smile at him and rested her palm on his cheek. He turned his face into her palm and closed his eyes. She let her thumb stroke over his mouth and parted his lips slightly. He took in a deep breath and kissed her palm. When he next opened his eyes they were just as stony as ever. Her smile slid off her face as her hand slid off his.

He grabbed the hand that had just been on his face and pulled her out of his room and dragged her into her room. He walked her to the bed and went back and shut the adjacent door. It was then that she realized that she hadn't thought to look around his room. She had missed a very opportune window; she promised herself she wouldn't miss it again.

He came back and pushed her lightly onto the bed. She fell onto her back with her hair spread around her like an ebony cloud of curls. He trailed his fingertips up her thighs and pulled down her pants.

"Take off your shirt," he commanded.

She sat up and pulled her top over her head. Her firm breasts sat high on her chest and her tight curls were wild atop her head. He stared at her breasts as he pulled down his pants and released his hardened member. She took her time and absorbed him in all his glory. His hardened member stood out from his body waiting for her loving attention. On his knee there was a tattoo of an anchor. It was a steel blue color and had a silver chain wrapped around it. Billy had seen plenty of tattoos before, but the quality and finesse of this one went far above others, if anything, it made her hornier. She let her legs spread slightly as she felt the wetness pooling out of her.

He broke his staring contest with her nipples and looked at her face. He walked towards her until he was towering over her position on the bed, then he crawled up her body until she was lying down underneath him.

She spread her legs on either side of him and raised her legs on the bed until her knees were framing his hips. His throbbing member was brushing against her leaking quim and she could feel the heat of him at her entrance. The neediness and impatience in her started to grow as he trapped his cock between their bodies and started to thrust his hips back and forth. He leaned his head forward until his face was buried in her cloud of hair. He lowered his hips a bit more and rubbed his dick against her clit. She could feel the head catch on her aching nub and sucked in a sharp breath. He continued this until her hands were wrapped around his body and her nails were scratching down his back.

He stopped for a moment and drew his hips back until the head of his dick was poised right above her opening. He leaned back until he was balanced on one arm and reached down between them to place his dick at her wet opening. He was easing himself into her and she could feel his muscles bunch as he was about to thrust himself into her when he stopped.

"FUCK!" He yelled above her.

She drew back from him and tried to shrink into the fabric of the bed. He stared down at her with angry eyes and got off the bed.

"SHITSHITSHITSHITSHIT!" He cursed to himself.

Billy's eyes followed him until he went through their adjacent door and slammed it behind him.

She lied there for a moment and was about to get up and put her clothes back on when she heard the door crash open. His eyes were a mixture of rage and desire.

"Fucking flip over." He commanded.

She rolled onto her stomach and reached her hands above her head to the edge of the bed.

"What are you fucking retarded? Put your knees underneath you damnit. Like a bitch."

She flinched at his booming voice and commanding tone. Her legs drew up underneath her and she spread her knees until they were shoulder width apart. He came up behind her and tugged on her hips until her knees were on the edge of the mattress. After his hands left her hips she heard the tear of ripping foil and the popping sound of a condom. He had gone back to his room to get a rubber.

Why was she hurt? She was a whore after all and knew that it was common sense to any man to put a rubber on before delving into the cesspool she called a vagina. This was just an extensive assignment with a wealthier John. Fuck she was stupid. This man didn't like her, or love her, or trust her. He wasn't stupid and just because he had gone down on her didn't mean anything. He wasn't liable for her emotions and he didn't need to take them into account when he fucked her.

She felt stupid, and wanted to cry. God, why did she have to be so stupid? Why did she invest herself in an illusion? She needed a shot or two.

She felt him position himself behind her and his hands rested on her hips. He pushed the head of his cock into her and held still for a moment and then shoved the rest of himself into her. She was still wet and man o man did it feel amazing. He pounded into her and she could feel the heat radiating from him as he thrust in and out of her. One of his hands came up and grabbed her hair and wrapped it around his hand. The pleasure of him inside her was too much and she started to cry out her pleasure. She couldn't help but love what he was doing to her. However, soon the thought of the lack of emotion on his end made the tears come to surface. They rolled silently down her face while he grunted and thrusted above her. She felt a ball of pleasure and adrenaline form in her stomach. She reached one of her hands back and started to viciously stroke her clit. Her back bowed and her she started to cry out more as the tears continued. The speed of her hand increased and so did his thrusts. Soon the room was filled with the sound of skin slapping against skin and grunts of pleasure.

She was crushing her clit with the effort for her need to reach her orgasm and his hand tightened in her hair. The ball kept growing like a water balloon; it kept stretching but resisted the urge to break. Billy started to rock back into his thrusts and the balloon was about to burst when he suddenly slowed down. Her fingers still did a furious dance on her clit but it had lost its urgency as had he. He thrusted slowly in her body and relaxed his grip on her hair.

He brought both hands down to her hips and pushed her up the bed to make room for himself. He arched his back and continued to thrust into her. He brought his hand up to her neck and wrapped his hand around her throat.

"Want to cum?" He questioned in her ear.

She nodded and pushed back against him.

"Good."

He started to thrust into with a little bit more vigor but not nearly as much as before. The pleasure built again and the balloon stretched some more.

"Why don't you cum?" He asked her. "Let go."

Damn that balloon, it kept adapting, why wouldn't it fucking burst? Grunts escaped from her throat with the effort she was putting into delving into the pleasure. There was a lack of focus on her part. She wanted the pleasure so bad, but the tears kept rolling down her cheeks and she was thinking too much.