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How i became a Whore 2 | peterboy3


How i became a Whore 2
"Steady," he grunted. "Steady. Keep it steady!"

I moaned. He wasn't even out of breath! I arched under him, my cunt convulsing on his cock and tried to match his rhythm. My fingers dug into the thick pads of muscle in his shoulder and I gritted my teeth and forced myself to hold back.

"Better," he said softly. "Much better. Keep with me."

He kept up the rhythm for several minutes, moving effortlessly.

I felt dazed, my mind a numb effusion of pure, unbridled pleasure as the lust-heat swamped my body.

"Yes," I moaned. "Oh god yes . fuck me . fuck me please .

yes . oh god yes . ohh that's so good yes!" I squeezed my breasts erotically, pinching the stiff nipples and heard him and the photographer chuckle softly.

"Okay, Joe. Go for it," the photographer said. "Then lick her slit, sixty-nine and from behind. Got all that?"

"No sweat," the man said.

"What's she like so far?"

"Damn good for a first timer. Needs practice with big cocks, but terrific for a fresh chick."

They were talking about me as if I didn't exist. I whimpered. This was how it was to be, then, I was to be used like this, like any common whore. Somehow, I found it very sexy.

The man was moving faster now, slowly gathering speed. I groaned and looked at him. He was breathing harder, but still in complete control, his muscles cording smoothly. I gasped and whimpered as the huge cock crushed my cunt-flesh without respite, running deeply in and out of my cunt in a steady, sawing motion. I groaned. It felt wonderful. My body writhed and jerked, my breasts jumping and jiggling with his thrusts, my gold necklace tossing and slapping on my creamy, fair skin.

Faster and faster he went and now his cock was ramming into me with deep, stabbing thrusts that forced the air from my lungs each time. My head swam and I began to orgasm violently.

"OH! UH OH UH OH UH OH UH OH MA UH OH MA OH MA OH MA UHHH OHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!"

I called as my cunt convulsed frantically on his pistoning penis.

My orgasm intensified as he kept thudding into me, lengthened, slowly ebbed. The man slid out of me and, before I could react, was bending his head to my breasts, sucking them sharply, letting go, biting my long, stiff nipples, scraping them across his white teeth and gums and the roof of his mouth, squeezing both together and sucking simultaneously. I gasped as the lust-fires built and spread again. His finger slid into my slit and he began finger-fucking me slowly, jabbing his finger into my cunt, pressing the hard knuckle to my throbbing clitoris, twisting his finger this way and that, rocking his hand back and forth. I moaned and cried out, my fingers scrabbling at his body. And then he went down and drove his face into my crotch.

I loved being tongue-fucked, but I had never been tongue-fucked like this. Joe's tongue was long and thick and heavy and it jabbed deep into my cunt, found my clitoris, whipped it rapidly, drew back, pressed into my cunt-flesh, probing the flesh, tasting my flowing juices and then returned to torment my clitoris.

"OHHHHHH uhh OH uh OHHHH uhh Oh yes oh yes oh god yes!" I called, my body flecked with sweat. "Oh ma uhh ahhhh uhhhhh yes!"

The man slid his finger into my cunt and began to finger- and tongue-fuck me simultaneously. I cried out, my face twisting and contorting in an agony of lust and suddenly his erect cock was hovering over my face. Instantly, my mouth opened and I moaned as the huge cock filled it, distending my face. Their bodies rocked and writhed in a sixty-nine.

It ended with him taking me from behind, kneeling behind me and, holding my hips, rocking my body back and forth before him, dragging my cunt up and down the length of his shaft. I gasped, my mind whirling. His cock filled my cunt and he went on and on and on, whacking his thighs at my buttocks, in no apparent hurry, his hands everywhere, on my buttocks, on my breasts, his tongue in my ear, at the nape of my neck, in my mouth. I orgasmed again and he began moving faster, thudding into me heavily, his balls slapping at my cunt-lips, his thighs bouncing off my buttocks.

"Come when set. Call of two," the photographer said.

"Five minutes."

"Sure."

Smoothly, the black man levered himself into a squat astride my hips and began to fuck me rapidly, stabbing his cock into my cunt, lifting his buttocks high, then rocking them forward in deep, rushing, piercing thrusts. Beneath him, I gasped and cried out, my breath coming in rattling, heaving sobs as the huge penis plundered my cunt-flesh. On and on he went, in and out, in and out, in and out, in and out.

"One! Two!" I heard him call as I tottered into another orgasm.

And then he rammed hard into me once, twice, three times and began to come. I moaned. I had never known a cum-flood so prodigious. His cock just would not stop spurting. It filled my slit and overflowed in a sticky trickle down my thighs. He slid out of me and more jazz spattered my back and buttocks, dribbled into the cleft between them. Slowly, he squeezed his cock back into my cunt and began to fuck me again.

The photographer killed the lights. Joe slid out of me. I sank down on the bed, exhausted, my chest heaving, my body trembling. Joe got off the bed.

"Thanks. That was a very decent fuck," he said to me.

I moaned, my fingers still clawed on the sheets. I heard a soft, dry chuckle and my eyes fluttered open. The photographer had finished packing up. He grinned at me and began to take off his clothes as he came to the bed.

"S.O.P., around here," he said. "Standard Operating Procedure. I get to fuck the models as a bonus. You don't mind?"

I didn't care any longer, numb and dizzy with what Joe had done to me.

"Good," the photographer cackled. "And there's others, too, waiting, if you'll have them."

An hour later, I was still at it, this time with a young spot-boy, a teenager with a wiry body and long, thick cock in a room with four glass walls. I knew, instinctively, that even here I was being filmed. By now, I was totally spent, completely exhausted, drained, my limbs trembling. The photographer had fucked me for over half an hour. He, too, had a big cock and he had fucked me mercilessly in every orifice, even taking my ass.

Then the spot boy came in, turned me over, cleaned me up with a damp towel, gave me a drink. I felt better after that, and distinctly horny. The spot boy grinned at me and pushed his cock into my mouth and his tongue into my cunt. He fucked me rapidly, taking me twice before he was done, coming explosively in my slit.

"Enough."

I looked up with dull eyes. Hemant was moving towards me, concern on his face.

"Are you all right?" he asked. "Was it too much?"

I shook my head. "Yes . no . I don't know ." My speech sounded slurred and heavy.

"You'll have to learn to deal with that kind of demand, if you want to be in a decent grade here," he explained softly. "Do you understand me? If I wanted to fuck you now, I should have an immediate yes. Do you follow?"

I was too far gone to respond. Hemant snapped his fingers. Someone hurried forward with a drink in a plastic bottle. He pressed the tube straw between my lips.

"Here. Take this. It helps. And don't let it worry you. Many girls need it still, even after years here. It's no sign of failure."

I sipped the drink and closed my eyes and sank back into the pillows. There was a drug in the drink obviously. Slowly, it powered through my body and, ten minutes later, I was on fire again, my mind clear as a bell.

"I want to fuck," I heard myself say to Hemant, getting up and looking at him with a hunger glittering in my eyes. "Can I?" He chuckled. "Of course. We have someone waiting. Your very first client."

I was taken to a richly appointed suite. A stranger was waiting.

He smiled when he saw me. He was obviously rich and quite handsome. I couldn't have cared less if he was an ogre. I was burning with lust.

Within minutes, I was on my knees before the man, sucking it feverishly. The man groaned in pleasure as he fucked my face.

"Mm . yeh . fuck you're good, bitch . suck it! C'mon . suck it harder . oh fuck yes!" he gasped, pumping his hips to and fro, pushing his cock in and out of my distended face, rocking my head back and forth in one hand.

I moaned deep in my cock-filled throat, working his cock-head with my tongue, sucking sharply, letting go, sucking hard again. I loved sucking cock, and did it very well. The man gasped at my cunning and prowess. His cock spurted pre-cum gunk and I gasped, opening my mouth under his cock and letting him watch it spurt into my throat, spatter my breasts and face. He pushed my head away. I groaned and, moving to the bed, went down on my back, spreading my legs and clawing my cunt-lips open for him.

"Fuck me," I gasped. "Take me, lover! Fuck me hard! Do what you like with me! I'm want to be fucked!"

The man stared down at me. He was handsome and well-built, in his late thirties, obviously very rich.

"How old are you, bitch?" he said softly.

"Seventeen," I gasped. "Almost."

"My god," he breathed, a grin splitting his face as he moved up over me. "Oh my god."

I pushed my hand between their bodies and guiding his cock to my cunt. He paused and then, with soft cry, drove his cock deep into my cunt.

It took an hour for him to finish and then I was taken off.

Danny was with me when the manager, Santosh, asked me to confirm my willingness to join service. I agreed without hesitation and Danny smiled and kissed me.

The next day, I was told, I would have to do a screen test.

For a porn film. With a small smile, Santosh told me the salaries and perquisites I would get. My jaw dropped. It was more money each night, in the lowest grade, than my father made in a month. I could hardly wait to begin.

I returned home in an euphoric mood. I told my family that I got a job at the hotel in reservations. The hotel was well-known as among the city's finest, swankiest, most respectable business establishments. My parents were overjoyed. My father took us out to a restaurant to celebrate and my mother fed me sweetmeats in thanksgiving. If only they knew.

The next day, Santosh escorted me to the sound-stage. There would be no client today, he said, since I was doing a screen test and that might require several takes. The clients would begin the next day when my evaluations came in, and the next week I did be asked to do a live show. I could refuse, of course - but no one did, he said with a hint of warning, implying that refusal would inevitably result in a lowering of my grades and consequently the money I made and the ...


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