by Starr ©
The call came in to Big Jim's Escort Service a few minutes after 7 p.m. last Saturday. My boss, Big Jim Nelson, put his cigar in the ashtray and picked up the phone.
As he listened, he stared at me and smiled wryly. Light reflected off of his gold tooth. He was thinking about money so hard, I could see dollar signs forming in his eyes.
"Yes sir, we could send over a girl right away," Big Jim said. "Tell me sir, what exactly are you looking for? ... OK ... I see ... Well, I think we can make you a very happy man. I'm looking at a girl named Starr right now. She has short black hair, sort of like Liza Manelli with a '90s twist. She's 5'4", 110 pounds. You'll love her. She's got perky tits and a cute little eyebrow ring. Let me put it simply: Starr looks like a rebellious 16 year old, but she's legal.... Yes sir, she'll be over in an hour."
Big Jim slammed down the receiver and leaped out of his chair as if a spring had poked him in the ass.
"Hot damn," he said. "We hit the jackpot. That guy on the phone was named Tom Jenkins. He called from Rosewood Estates -- that section of town where all them mansions are. He saw our ad in The Tattler and needs an escort for tonight."
"Wonderful," I groaned, rolling my eyes. "He sounds like a real pervert."
"He is," Big Jim said. "But he's a rich pervert, so treat him right. He said he wants our youngest girl. That's you. I want you to go to his house and act like his slutty daughter. Do whatever he says, OK?"
"Yeah, sure, whatever you say, Jim. As long as you get your money, right?"
He stroked my chin with his fat hand.
"That's my little girl," he said. "I know you're job is tough, sucking all those strangers' cocks and all. But tonight you're in luck. I've got something to make it easier."
Jim slid open a desk drawer and fumbled through the contents. He took out what looked like an aspirin bottle and emptied a pill into his hand.
"Take this," he said.
I took the pill from him and examined it. A star was emblazoned on one side, a crescent moon on the other.
"What is this?" I asked.
"Just take it," Jim said. "It'll make your night go a whole lot better."
After swallowing the pill, I retreated to the dressing room to get ready.
I penciled on some black eyeliner, then slipped into a white T-shirt two sizes too small and a pair of oversized bell bottom blue jeans. My nipples poked through the shirt like a pair of antennae. I looked like a whorish teen-ager ready to be fucked by daddy -- just as Big Jim wanted.
When I came out of the dressing room, Big Jim was gone. He had left $20 on his desk alongside a note telling me to enjoy the cab ride to Jenkins' house. The bottle of pills was next to the telephone. I picked up the bottle and popped off the top. There must have been 50 pills inside.
"What are these things?" I whispered to myself. "No label or nothing. How strange. Well, if Jim thinks my night will go well with one pill, it'll go three times as well with three."
I swallowed two more pills, called the cab company and waited outside.
The high off Big Jim's pills started with a tingling on my scalp as I sat on a park bench across the street from the agency. After the tingling, I felt a rush up my spine. Suddenly, everything was beautiful. Colors appeared brighter. The sounds of the city melded into one sweet melody that seemed to be composed just for me. Life was wonderful.
When the taxi came, I slid into the back seat and gave Jenkins' address to the driver.
"Whoa," the cabbie said. "That's the rich part of town. You going home to your daddy or something?"
I doubled over with laughter. The drug was really taking hold of my brain.
The cabbie shook his head.
"You rich kids sure are weird," he said.
We drove down Main Street, made a left on Bowen Avenue and headed toward the suburbs. The nature of my high changed about halfway to Jenkins' house. Without warning, I went from giggly to horny. The craving for sex surged through me. It was the most intense feeling I've ever experienced.
My pussy oozed as I pinched my own nipples between my forefingers and thumbs. I suddenly felt the incredible urge to taste my own cunt juice.
As I arched my back to unbutton my jeans, I saw the cabbie peek into his rearview mirror.
"Want to watch me fuck myself?" I asked.
Our eyes met in the mirror. He nodded his head.
I slouched on the cool vinyl seat, slipped a hand into my panties and pressed a finger into my clit. I worked myself over in small circular motions, spreading my legs open as far as they would go.
"I'm touching my cunt for you," I said. "I love turning you on. Now I'm going to finger-fuck myself and cum right here in the back of your cab."
When my hole was sloppy with lubrication, I slipped two fingers inside myself all the way to the third knuckle. I pumped my hot box swiftly and moaned in ecstasy.
"Ooooooh, I love feeling my own cunt," I said with a gasp.
The driver was watching me through the rearview. He had stopped paying attention to the road. We nearly slammed head on with an oncoming car, but the blare of a horn jerked the cabbie to attention.
A sudden rush of excitement coursed through me. My pussy throbbed to the rapid pace of my heartbeat. I came hard, then licked the milky juice off of my fingers.
The cabbie was feeling himself through his pants.
"Go ahead," I said. "Whip out your cock and whack yourself off."
He unzipped his pants, pulled out his big johnson and gave himself two strokes before blasting what seemed to be a gallon of jizz all over the steering wheel.
We pulled into the driveway at Jenkins' house as I was zipping up my pants. I thrust Big Jim's $20 bill at the cabbie, but he wouldn't take it.
"From now on, you ride for free when you're with me," he said.
"Take it," I said. "Come on."
"I already did," he replied with a smile.
I handed him a business card from Big Jim's Escort Service and told him to call sometime.
"All right!" he exclaimed. "I'm going to tell all the guys at the cab stand about you."
As the cab's taillights disappeared around the corner, I walked up the path to Jenkins' front door. His house was huge. With the pillars in the front, it looked like the White House. The doorbell sounded like a church bell.
A slim man with black hair, graying at the temples, opened the door. He had on khaki pants and a white golf shirt.
"Are you the girl Big Jim sent over?" he asked.
"Yeah, my name is Starr, and I'm here for Mr. Jenkins."
"Well, that's me. Please, come in," he said .
I could tell he was pleased but a little nervous.
He led me to his personal library where the walls were lined with books. We sat on a brown leather couch and made small talk to get acquainted. Jenkins kept his hands in his lap and stared straight ahead. He acted and talked like a nervous school boy on a first date.
"My wife is out of town," he said. "She claims she's visiting her sister, but I know she's having sex with our lesbian maid at our home in Maui. Whatever the case, I don't want you to say anything about this encounter to anyone, OK?"
I nodded, and he stammered on about all the troubles he was having in his marriage and with his 15-year-old daughter and at work and so on. The conversation was beginning to drag. The whole while I was fidgeting in my seat, struggling to refrain from stripping my clothes off and finger-fucking myself again. Finally, I couldn't take it anymore and stood up.
"Look, do you want to fuck me or not?" I said, startling him.
"Uh, well, I guess that is what we're here for, isn't it?" he said.
"Listen, I need some cock like you wouldn't believe," I said. "Do you want my pussy?"
Agape, he nodded.
"We need music -- for the mood," I said.
There was a stereo system on a glass shelf behind a desk. Jenkins' CD collection was lame, lots of Perry Como and Frank Sinatra. I tuned the radio to a techno dance station and twisted the volume knob until the entire room throbbed with bass.
Strutting from one end of the couch to the other, I sensuously removed my T-shirt and tossed it at Jenkins. He shifted nervously in his seat.
I stood before him and caressed my flat, tan stomach.
"We're going to fuck," I said, climbing onto his lap. "You're big dick is going to slide into my hot, wet pussy. That turns you on. I know it does."
I was straddling his lap. The hard hump in his khakis rubbed against my cunt lips as I moved my hips to and fro. The pulsation in my pussy made me shiver. I came again. My crotch had become so wet, juice soaked through my jeans and left a spot on Jenkins' pants.
"Well, I guess we'll have to get you out of those dirty rags," I said.
I kneeled in front of Jenkins, then unzipped his pants with my teeth. He wasn't wearing underwear.
"For a quiet one, you certainly are naughty , aren't you?" I said.
He blushed.
"Since I'm down here, can I be a good little girl for you and suck your cock?"
Jenkins nodded.
My lips wrapped around the head of his nine-inch rod. I slowly slid my head down, letting my tongue feel the underside of his love muscle. I loved how his big dick tasted. I started sucking him harder and faster. On the downs troke, I could feel his cock touch the back of my throat. The further his pipe plunged into my face, the more his fear slipped away. He began to moan.
Just before he came, he grabbed me by the back of my head and forced me to take all nine inches into my face.
"Take it all, baby," he said. "Suck this cock for daddy."
His warm jism splashed across my tongue. It tasted good. I wanted to scream for more, but I was afraid of letting even one drop dribble from my mouth.
"Swallow for daddy," Jenkins demanded.
The cum slid down my throat with ease.
"You sucked my cock so well, daddy has a little treat for you now," Jenkins said. "Take off your pants and get on your knees."
His cock was still fully erect. As I followed Jenkins' orders, I wondered if he were on the same kind of pills I had taken from Big Jim.
I hoisted my ass in the air.
"Fuck my pussy for me, daddy," I said.
Jenkins slapped my outer labia with the head of his engorged prick, sending wonderful vibrations up my spine. I badly needed his cock inside me. Without warning, he jammed it in. Endorphins exploded in my brain.
"Oh daddy!" I exclaimed.
He grunted as he pumped my pussy .
"I know you like this cock," he said. "Scream for your daddy!"
I shrieked in ecstasy.
"I love how you fuck me daddy," I screamed. "Harder, harder, harder."
He slipped a finger up my asshole, and my cunt juiced.
"You're my little whore daughter," he said. "You're a good little whore."
We came together, his liquefied love spurting deep inside me.
Afterwards, we sat naked together on the couch and drank a bottle of red wine each. The alcohol helped dull the effect of the pills I had taken earlier.
When I got back to the agency, Big Jim was punching numbers into a calculator at his desk. He looked up and smiled.
"Well, if it isn't my little sugar thing," he said. "What do you have for me?"
"You get 50 percent, right?"
"Yep."
I handed him a wad of bills. He counted it with a grin.
"Not bad, not bad," he said. "You can head home now, but be back early tomorrow. I need you to dance for a party at a taxi cab company on Fifth Avenue. I don't know what you did to that cabbie, but he sure was excited about having you come over tomorrow."
I smiled and sashayed toward the door. Then I remember something and turned around.
"What was that pill I took tonight?" I asked.
"Ecstasy. Why do you ask?" Big Jim replied.
"Oh, I was just wondering," I said. "What would happen if I were take three of them some day?"
"Three at one time? Are you kidding? That's enough to make an elephant fuck for three months straight. If three pills didn't kill you, you'd be awfully horny for a long time."
Know what? He was right.
I love my job.