Bisexual Prostitute

Right now, I am in bed. I am in my dorm back at Bridgewater State College. My roommate Elisabeth is asleep next to me. She's a mousy blonde girl from Atlanta. I am tired, from a long night at work. I am counting the money I made this month. Thirty thousand dollars in cash, all for one month's work down at Club Le Monde. Before you start asking about directions to the club, maybe you should pay attention to what I am about to tell you. I am a lady of the night. A courtesan. A working girl. This is my life.

A few hours ago, I was lying on my belly. My legs were spread. There was a hunky guy holding me by the hips and thrusting his thick cock into my ass with all of his might. That's my fuck buddy Hector, from the Bridgewater State wrestling team. He's a stud with a big dick. He comes to me often because his conservative Christian girlfriend Melanie won't give him head. So, maybe that's why he takes his frustrations out on me. I don't mind. He's got a big one and he knows how to use it. We always use condoms so we're cool. He is pounding my tight asshole with that big cock of his. He is giving it to me just the way I like, hard and fast.

I can feel that big cock sliding into my back door, going where the laws of nature say that he has no business going. And I am loving every minute of it. There's something to be said about getting fucked in the ass. It's a really great feeling. It can make you feel ashamed, and it can also liberate you. When someone is fucking you in the ass, you can't lie. You can't fake anything. An asshole is very different from a pussy. An asshole is honest. Pound it hard with a big cock, and whoever is getting fucked will scream out loud. The woman or man getting fucked will scream in real pleasure or real pain. That's what getting fucked in the ass feels like. It bares your true self. It's therapeutic.

My name is Kassandra. I am the kind of girl whom other girls hate and envy because I've got a lot of everything they wish they had but often lack. I stand six feet two inches tall and I am a toned and athletic chick. I've got chest. I've got face. And man do I have an ass! I've got a thirty-inch ass, need I say more? I have caramel-colored skin and curly black hair which I keep short. My eyes are a pale green. It's somewhat unusual to see a black person with green eyes. My father was Mexican and my mother was black. I'm mixed, as they say. I'm also a whole lot of woman. I'm sure you're anxious to get to the good part of this story. I'm not going to keep you waiting too long. No honey, this girl is going to give it to you straight.

I'm a college student by day and a courtesan by night. Yes, I am a courtesan. I get paid by men and sometimes women to entertain them and give them the kind of pleasure and pain that they can't seem to reach on their own. I've always been good at getting into people's heads and make them do what I want. Some people might call me a shifty bitch because of this but it's a talent that's come in handy many times in my life. I go to Bridgewater State College and I'm taking Psychology over there. As if I needed help figuring people out! Anyway, classes were over that day and I had to go to work. I went to Club Le Monde down in Boston, and went to meet my clients.

Club Le Monde is the kind of place that's hard to get into. You need to be really rich and connected to even walk in. Club Le Monde caters to the tastes of wealthy gentlemen and sometimes women. Rich people are freaks with too much money in their hands. I've always known that. I've learned to use my natural talents to my advantage. So, I went to work. I met my first client of the evening. His name was Michael Harold. He was forty years old, married with children. He was also a senior partner at the law firm of Harold, Bartleby & Chadwicks. The guy had money, and he wasn't bad-looking either. He stood six feet tall, lean, with black hair and pale green eyes. A good-looking white male. He wore a very expensive Perry Ellis suit. Yes, he had money. I'm not cheap. Harold was paying me twelve hundred dollars for the night, just to satisfy his morbid fantasies. Out of these twelve hundred, thirty percent would go to Club Le Monde. I would keep the rest. This was the way things were done and there was no way around it.

So, here we were, in a big dark room lit by candles only. Harold told me what he wanted me to do for him. I've met all kinds of people in here. I once met a tall, good-looking Wall street executive with some freaky tendencies. The guy was married to the daughter of the city's mayor, and yet he frequented places like this. His name was Luther. Luther had some weird fetishes indeed. He told me to give him a blowjob and I did. I sucked his cock with a condom on it. Then, we had regular sex. I was lying on my back and he was thrusting into my pussy with his hard dick. He really knew how to screw, I noticed with some surprise. Many of my clients didn't. I didn't care and neither did they. I was just a fuck to them and they were only a wallet to me. After Luther fucked me, he asked me to fuck him.

Apparently, he had even brought a special tool for the job. A strap-on dildo. I had used one before so I knew what to do. I strapped it around my waist and held the plastic cock in my hand. I greased him up with KY Jelly and bent him over a large bench. I spread the man's butt cheeks wide open and pressed the dildo's round head against his puckered asshole. I pushed. Luther groaned when he felt the dildo enter his ass. He directed me all the way. I fucked him, thrusting the dildo deep into his ass. He moaned and screamed in pleasure. I really let him have it and he loved every minute of it. I finally pulled out of him when he told me to and he lay on the bench, resting. That's all he asked to do for him. The whole thing took forty five minutes and I made eight hundred dollars that night.

As Harold undressed before me, I remembered another client of mine. This client was one of my rare female clients. Her name was Jessica. She was a tall, good-looking Black woman in her late thirties. From what I heard around the club, Miss Jessica was the vice president of a fortune five hundred company. A very wealthy woman. She was also married with children. That didn't surprise me a bit. Most of my clients, whether male or female, were married. They were just using their money to have some freaky fun on the side. Miss Jessica came to me in my special chamber. She was very bossy and ordered me to strip before her. I did. I stood, impassive, as the woman touched and fondled me.

Yes, apparently the Black businesswoman was a dyke. And just like her male counterparts, she felt that having money entitled her to my goods. Well, since she was paying nine hundred dollars for the night, I didn't mind. When she got naked and told me to eat her out, I did. I licked her pussy and fingered her. I ate her out. She was lying there on the bed with her eyes closed as I serviced her. When I made her come a few times, she cried out in pleasure. Later, she told me that she hadn't been with a female in a long time. Her family life was very dear to her and she didn't want anybody knowing that she was a closeted bisexual. You know, I actually thought about calling her husband to let him know that his darling wife was a closet case but I let it slide. I didn't give a damn either way since I was getting paid.

Now, here I was, ready to service Mister Harold. I looked at him. He looked really good. If I had met him elsewhere, I would have done him for free. But since we're a Club Le Monde, he's got to pay. I ask what he likes and he tells me. Surely enough, he tells me to strip before him. I get down on my knees and unzip his pants. I take his cock in my hands and start to suck on it. Harold had a really big dick. He was thrusting it into my mouth and I was sucking it. I feel his balls hitting my face. I suck his big dick until he comes. When he does, as ordered, I drink it and gulp it down. I wipe my mouth with the back of my hand. I look up at him. He smiles and tells me to get on all fours. I obey.

I get on all fours and I already know what is coming. He wants to fuck me. I feel his big hands grab my butt cheeks. I swear that every straight man who looks at my bubble butt wants to fuck me in the ass. I don't mind getting fucked in the ass, not at all. It's my favorite kind of sex in fact. Something about anal sex brings out the most primal selves of the most prim and proper men and women in the world. Trust me, I know. I've fucked both men and women in the ass with the aid of a strap on dildo. I've also been banged in the butt by dicks and dildos. Yeah, I know the feeling and I love it. Which is why when Harold's dick slides into my anal cavity, I take it without so much a grunt. He fucks me hard, and fast. He is savagely slamming his dick into my ass. And I love every minute of it. It's over in ten to fifteen minutes, too fast if you ask me, and then he leaves. I smile. If only we'd met somewhere else. We could have had fun. But as they say, work is work.

I am loaded with money after a night at work. There are other working girls there, and working boys. I see my Latin friend Pablo walking into a room with a tall white woman and her Black male husband. Pablo is a bisexual guy who does threesomes with swingers. He's also trying to become an accountant. A lot attractive bisexual male and female college students work at Club Le Monde to make some money and pay student loans and other bills. Pablo always has fun at work. Just like me. I know he's going to have himself a lot of fun tonight and he's going to charge them a lot for it too. As I head to the showers, I notice someone I know. It's Selene, this pretty white girl who also works at Club Le Monde. By day, she's a student at Suffolk and an intern on State Street. By night, she's a courtesan just like me. I know she's got a boyfriend named Keith who's actually a cop, if you can believe that. I see her walking into a room with someone I sort of recognize. A very powerful female member of the city's political scene. Everyone has skeletons in the closet. Need I say more?

I stand in the shower, and let warm water wash all over me. I sometimes feel dirty after certain sexual encounters with people at Club Le Monde. I don't even want to tell you about some of them. I once met this lesbian couple with some unusual fetishes. One was a tall, pretty blonde who looked like a model. Her name was Andrea. The other was a tall, muscular woman with short red hair who dressed like a cowboy and smoked cigars. Her name was Nadine and she was a ranch owner from Texas. Both of them were racist bitches and they had some twisted fantasies. They had specifically requested a Black female. So, I was chosen for them. In their sick fantasy, Nadine played the role of a slave owner and I played the role of the runaway slave. She ran after me, caught me and then fucked me with a big strap on. She fucked me in the ass and also in the pussy. Andrea watched and fingered her pussy, giggling as Nadine took me. They paid me seventeen hundred dollars for that little session. I took the money. It was the single most humiliating experience of my adult life. Enough about my memories. After the encounter with Harold, I went home. I found Hector waiting for me. I was tired but the sight of him made me horny. I ended up doing it with him. Several times. An hour later, he left my room. In the eyes of the world, he was the handsome captain of the wrestling team. He had a beautiful, conservative Christian girlfriend. He couldn't be seen with the likes of him. Nobody on campus knew about my escapades down at Club Le Monde but many considered me to be the campus slut. A lot of guys with frigid girlfriends visited me. A few girls who were curious about sex with other females sometimes visited me too. I was really popular.

Sometimes, I get tired of this life. Seriously. I sometimes wish I was one of those rich people with a lot of money. I wouldn't have to do the work I did to survive. Although I resist it, sometimes it bothers me. If there's one thing that can really mess you up in my line of work, it's having a conscience. I don't have one, as far as I'm concerned. I'm as unfamiliar with remorse as the average American is with Japanese symbols. And yet, sometimes, late at night, I feel a lot of regret.

I cannot sleep and I am watching the clock. I've got thirty grand stashed away somewhere. I've got twenty more hidden in a safe. If I wanted to, I could quit this job. I always use condoms with all the people I sleep with, and so I don't have any diseases. You know what I'm talking about. I know that someday my luck will run out. The funny thing is that I wasn't made for this kind of life. I didn't come from an abusive home. I had a loving father and a wonderful mother. My two brothers were great guys. I wasn't abused in any way, not by a boyfriend or girlfriend, not by anyone. I came from a middle-class home. So why did I get into this life? I don't know. Oh, wait. I do know. It's because I like it.

It's eleven in the evening, and my roommate Elisabeth comes. She's something else, that one. A pretty, but somewhat mousy blonde girl. She's a native of Oklahoma. She's studying nursing here at Bridgewater State College. Her parents are conservative Christians who have no idea that their little girl is a dyke. I'm ninety nine percent sure that Elisabeth is a virgin. I can tell. A closet lesbian who had a crush on me. I made it clear to her that I wasn't interested in romance of any kind, or any sort of sexual relationship. She got the picture. Sometimes, we hang out. I surprise myself sometimes by listening to her playing guitar. She's a country girl, after all. She also knows how to dance Polka. Here she comes, from the school library. She's going to make Dean's List again this semester.

Elisabeth comes and sees me there. She smiles shyly. She takes off her coat and drops it on the floor. I watch her as she changes from her school clothes to her pajamas. I never bother with pajamas. I sleep naked. Always. Elisabeth is trying really hard not to look at me. I smile. I've always had a great sexual power over both men and women. I hope it's the last thing to go. I enjoy having it.

Elisabeth is in her pajamas. She sits on her chair and starts telling me about her day. She does this every damn night. Always. She's funny, that one. I look at her. Elisabeth stands around five-foot-nine, and she's somewhat chubby. She's got blonde hair and pale blue eyes. She's nice-looking, in a farm girl kind of way. I'm a city girl. I don't date women. I don't date, period. If I want a man, I go and get one to fuck. If I want a woman, I do the same thing. I don't date. Elisabeth has been trying to come out of the closet and she's found the lesbian dating pool to be a shark tank. I think she's going to stay single for a long time.

I simply smile and nod as she goes on talking. Then, she asks me about my day. What should I tell her? She doesn't know that I am a bisexual courtesan working at Club Le Monde. Maybe I should tell her that I have slept with some of the most powerful men and women in the world. What would the conservative Christian closet case make of that? I smile and gesture to her to come to me. She does. I give her a gentle hug, and she hugs me back, though she is surprised. She is lying next to me in bed. I actually do give a damn about this girl. I care for her, but not as a lover. Not even as a friend. I care for her the same way a man or woman cares about their annoying kid sister. I come up with a pretty lie to tell her and she smiles, listens, gives opinions and finally goes to sleep.

It's now midnight. Elisabeth is asleep. I look at her sleeping form and I think about how different we are. She's a girl with average looks, I'm an Amazon. She is a virgin in the dating game, I'm an experienced sex goddess. She's white. I'm both Black and white, yet neither. She's a lesbian. I am both heterosexual and homosexual, yet neither. I am a bisexual female who also happens to be biracial. Sometimes, I think about lovers. The men and women, and sometimes men and men ( or women and women) whom I see walking down the street holding hands. Lovers. Why do people love? It's so easy to be hurt. So easy to be betrayed. Why is Elisabeth looking for love? Sex and money are good enough for me. Yet sometimes I think that I might be missing out on something great.

The end.