Hi I have got amazing response about my earlier stories. So writing a new one. This one is not experienced by me but the one who is experienced is very close to me and have told me personally. I am using my name instead of her as per her instruction. Anyway guys enjoy. Comments at [email protected]. Back to part 2 of story …
I finished school, and grew lovelier, my breasts filling out, my curves getting more accentuated. In college, I took a polytechnic course in hotel management and did reasonably well. There were other lovers now, for I had greater freedom and was out of the house a lot longer. There was my trainer, a handsome Goan who took me to his house and fucked me all afternoon. There were a couple of my fellow-students with whom I had torrid sex in squalid little suburban hotels that rented by the hour. I graduated and, for a few months after that, waiting for a job offer and replies to my applications, I spent time fucking with what I called my three musketeers, long afternoons of glorious sex in Kumar’s hut. The days passed and I got no response but letters of regret. I grew morose. Finally, it was Appu who broke through and took me into a whole new world. We were fucking one afternoon, and I was astride his hips on the bed. He groaned and bucked his hips under me, sliding his hands up my body to cup my breasts.
“Hey, Sandhya.”
“What?”
“Got a job offer yet?”
“You know I haven’t.”
“How would you like to do this for money?” “Do what?”
“This. Fucking.”
I stared down at him. “You must be joking.” I bent over and kissed him, my sloping breasts pressing against his chest, my tongue slipping in and out of his mouth. He squeezed my breasts and pressed a fingertip to my anus. My cunt was really incredibly hot and tight. He grunted as it convulsed on his penis.
“No. I’m serious,” he murmured, licking my stiff nipple. “Think about it.”
“You want me to whore?”
“Why not? It’s not like anyone’s forcing you into prostitution, you know. You’d whore because you want to. And the money’s good.
Very good.”
“Oh yes? And how would you know?”
He grinned. “I’ve been meaning to tell you. I’ve been working at this place, this hotel downtown.”
“I thought you were working as a peon. A peon-cum-chauffeur.”
“That was before.”
“You never told me.”
“No. I didn’t. Anyway, this hotel’s not just a hotel. It’s a world-class, high-quality whorehouse, too. Top five, six floors.
I’ve got in as a stud.”
I stared down at him. “A stud?”
“Yeah. Stud. Gigolo. Dame comes in, needs a fuck, I fuck her. I get paid.”
“Women come into this whorehouse?”
He grinned. “What’s the matter, women don’t fuck?”
“No, it’s not that. It’s just that, I mean.”
“Yeah, I know what you mean. I was surprised, too, at first. But there’s a whole load of women out there who like a good fuck with a stranger. Any number of reasons. Nowhere to go, no one to go with, many of them are married, too, husband’s not interested, whatever.”
“So they come to you and you fuck them.”
“They don’t come to me. They come to the hotel where I work. If my name’s up, I fuck them.”
“And they pay you for this?”
“Very well. Ten thousand and gifts. Minimum. My take’s seventy five percent. Excluding tips and gifts and shit. Like this watch. See? Solid gold bracelet.”
“You must have done some fucking for that.”
“Yeah,” he chuckled. “Fucked her brains out. I said I never knew it could be that good. So I fucked her again hard and rough this time.”
He grinned. My eyes were glittering with excitement. He knew I had taken the bait.
“Last couple of months, they’ve taken me off the stud-roll,” he continued.
“Why’s that?”
“I’m heading a talent scout unit now. We have several. I’m head of one.”
“Talent scout?”
“Yeah. They found I had a knack of getting with dames and scooping them out. Brought in a couple who’ve turned out to be great whores? Customers love them and they make great profits for the hotel. So I was put in charge.”
“And now you’re scoping me out?”
He laughed. “No, idiot. I scoped you out years ago. I’m only recommending you try it. With you it’s different. We don’t have to play catch and all that. I don’t have to – seduce you, see? You’re right here, doing it already. Tell you what, why don’t I set it up for you, try it, see if you like it, then decide. The girls tell me it’s quite a kick having a stranger come in and fuck you and leave and pay good money for it. They’re very well looked after, too. Interested?”
But he knew the answer to that already. I was looking down at him with a deep glitter in my dark eyes, and my face was flushed with excitement.
“Yes,” I murmured. “When can we go?”
“Now?”
“No,” I groaned. “Not now. After we finish. Come on Appu. Fuck me. Fuck me. Fuck me!”
That afternoon, I started whoring at the hotel where Appu worked. I was told that for the first week, I was on probation while they assessed my capabilities to decide my grade. Before doing anything else, I would have to sit for a photo-shoot. I didn’t know what to expect when they led me to an airy studio. There, the makeup crew went to work on my face while the costumes staff measured me and quickly altered several outfits. I was photographed fully clad by a quietly handsome young man with a completely professional approach. I was wearing a simple churidar and kurta ensemble, the kurta with a low V neck. He took shots of me in different positions from different angles. Then he switched off the lights and nodded to the prop crew. They re-did the set and re-did my hair and re-did my make-up and got me into another outfit. This one was more revealing, showing a lot of breast and leg and I felt strangely aroused by it.
I returned to the floor and the photographer went to work again and this time he made me bend in different, distinctly sexual positions, kneeling, tilting my face up, leaning forward, and showing my cleavage. They went through several more costume changes, each more revealing than the last, including a zipped up black leather jacket that was left undone to the crotch with nothing under it, and a houri outfit, transparent cotton pants with deep slashes outside and inside to the crotch and a ridiculously small and tight top out of which my breasts squeezed invitingly. The last was a completely see-through fishnet and now the photographer made me get into blatantly sexy positions, on my front, looking over my shoulder with my legs spread so that my anus and cunt showed; on my back, my legs lifted and parted, showing the moist flesh of my cunt.
I got steadily hornier through the shoot, my natural exhibitionist streak subduing any hesitation I might have had. I found I enjoyed showing off my body and the appreciative smiles from the crew gave me a special thrill. They weren’t finished yet. Now a handsome young man stalked in to the studio and spoke quietly with the photographer. He turned to me and smiled. He was devastatingly sexy.
“Sandhya,” he said. “Good afternoon. My name is Kamal and I run the photo and film divisions of this company. My compliments. You’ve done very well so far. Exceptionally so.”
I smiled shyly. He pulled up a chair and sat beside me.
“Now what we want to do is a little more complicated. We want to do a longer shoot, first of you masturbating and then of you fucking. Are you ready for that, or would you like to come back tomorrow? You could even stop now and leave, if you prefer.”
I looked at him, suddenly hit by a twinge of nervousness. This was very dangerous. It was one thing to sneak off and fuck a guy. It was another thing to be filmed doing it. There would be evidence. Kamal saw my hesitation. He cupped my face in his hand gently.
“Sandhya. Think about it. Take your time, there’s no rush. But you shouldn’t be made to do something you don’t want to do. But let me tell you this. From us, you have nothing to fear. If you stay on, the prints and films will be locked in a vault abroad. We will use the footage very discreetly only in select films that screen in foreign countries, never here. If you leave, we return everything to you and you can keep it or destroy it, as you wish. We do not run to blackmail, though some of our lesser competitors do and so give us a reputation we don’t deserve.”
He watched me in silence. I looked at him and at the quiet set waiting expectantly. I was feeling very horny. I smiled.
“I. I’ll do it now, sir,” I said softly.
He grinned broadly and pecked me on the cheek. “That’s the spirit. Never give up. Come on, we’ll get things set.”
The next session was the sexiest thing I had done in my life. I was put into a diaphanous gown and photographed masturbating. First I used my fingers only. Then I used the lovely toys they gave me, dildoes and vibrators that I ran in and out of my cunt and ass till I orgasm with surprising satisfaction. And then my lover stepped onto the set. He was a gorgeous black man with rugged, handsome features and a stunning body. He was wearing an eye-mask and a black leather cod-piece and nothing else. He had the most awesome cock I had ever seen. My body crackled with lust. Minutes later, two were having sex under the hot lights and the photographer and three assistants were scurrying around us, taking us from every angle, calling instructions softly. The man fucked my mouth and just went on and on and no matter what I did it didn’t make him blow. I had never imagined a man with such power and control. He fucked my face for as long as the photographer wanted him to and then, quietly and without sign of emotion, stepped away.
“Fuck her on her back first,” the photographer said softly. “And mind you spread your legs good and wide. I want close-ups of your cock in her slit. And I just keep it going for as long as you can, okay? Call if you want a break. Set?”
It was the most glorious fucking I had ever known. I went down on my back and the huge cock crushed into my cunt slowly and heavily and the big man grunted softly as he flexed his buttocks and pushed his hips down, squeezing his cock deeper and deeper into my cunt. I gasped and moaned, biting my lower lip, my hips bucking eagerly, my breasts hot and swollen and dug my fingers into the immense, bulging biceps in his outstretched arms. My legs split wider and wider as he levered them apart with his thighs.
“Oh uhhh oh ma uhhhhhh OHHHHHHH!” I called, arching steeply under the masked black man.
In and in his penis went. I had never been fucked like this. His cock was impossibly big, ten inches long, nearly three inches thick, with a gorged, bulging cock-head. Deeper and deeper he went and the breath rattled from my throat as I thought it would surely rip my in toe. The man buried his cock in me and paused. I heard the soft whir-click, whir-click of the camera shutters and motor-drives, the shuffle of the photographers moving around them. The hard lights and reflectors burned my skin. The black man bent his head and kissed me slowly, deeply. His tongue was thick and heavy as he pushed it gently into my mouth. He began to fuck me.
I felt giddy. I had never been fucked like this, never with such mastery and control. The man raised his hips smoothly, drawing his cock up and out further and further, making me gasp at the sudden release in pressure in my cunt, till just his cock-head was in my cunt. Then, with a slow, skewering, spiraling action, he thrust down into me, driving his cock relentlessly into my cunt and, before it, a huge tidal wave of pleasure that rocked my body and made me groan and cry out and curl up on the small of my back. Again he drew out, and thrust down into me, and yet again. I moaned feverishly. My loins blazed with lust. His cock was incredibly heavy and hot and hard and it mashed and pulverized my inflamed clitoris in its passage. On and on he went, his cock rising and falling, rising and falling, his buttocks flexing and unflexing, his immense muscles ripple smoothly and effortlessly. My hips bucked and writhed in a frenzy under his.
“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 orgasm 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, and 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. Kamal 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. Kamal 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 Kamal, 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 wanted 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.
“Twenty,” 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. Appu was with me when the manager, Santosh, asked me to confirm my willingness to join service. I agreed without hesitation and Appu 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 kind of client I was offered to.
“I hope you’re not going to refuse?” he asked as they pushed through a padded door into a sound-proof, cavernous film-set.
I smiled. “No, I don’t think so. I love fucking and I love being watched so that seems to be a good way to do it.”
Santosh smiled. He was stocky, but handsome all the same. “You’re lovely,” he murmured. “Very lovely. We must fuck some time.”
The screen test was a dream. I was alone on stage. First, one hugely endowed man fucked me, then another, then a third. They looked like rough laborers or workmen, which they probably were. They had hard, lean, sinewy bodies. All three began in tight-fitting sleeveless under-vests, the kind that clung to their frames, necks scooping down low on their broad, deeply cleaved chests, and cut way in at the back. Even with them on, it was apparent that these were tough men. The exposed portions of their torsos were sexily hairless, with even their armpits shorn, and even under the vests, the hard ridges of musculature were apparent. Their trousers, when they came on, were baggy, but with prominent bulges in their crotches. They soon discarded these – but kept the vests on – and they wore nothing under them and their cocks were huge.
At the end, they took me together in my cunt and mouth and ass, fucking me slowly and heavily while I thrashed in a frenzy of delight between them, the magnificent penises sawing rhythmically and unhurriedly in and out of my orifices, plundering my flesh. All three men came. There were no retakes and, as the lights died, the unit applauded. Appu, Santosh and Kamal came down to the set, grinning hugely.
“Well done, Sandhya,” Appu said. “Congratulations. That was incredible.”
I smiled at him. “What, did I make it?” Kamal laughed. “Ducky, you’re one of the few to jump straight into the number four slot. Most first-time whore-cunts start at nine or ten.”
“Yes, it’s quite an achievement,” Santosh chimed in. “The boss graded you himself. And that’s really something.”
“And that entitles you to a chauffeur-driven car and a flat of your own. If you want it. The chauffeur is a good fuck, incidentally.”
I panicked. “No, no,” I said. “No flat. No flat. I can’t leave home.”
“No sweat,” Santosh said. “You don’t have to take it. It’s there when you want it. Take the car, though. That’s all folks.
Do give your comments – [email protected] No requests for sex. I am not interested.