darkest_fate
machina erotica
- Joined
- Dec 17, 2009
- Location
- the INTERNET
A contractual arrangement for money, that's all this is. Something as simple as that. She would spend time with the older man who clearly longed for company, particularly the company of an attractive young woman. In return, said man would pay her an impressive amount of money. Simple. Clean. It's all just part of the world's oldest profession, really. Except it didn't technically count as prostitution so long as she didn't have sex with him, right? And no way was she going to. Thaddeus was old enough to be her father, maybe even older! Yeah, she was just there so he'd have some eye-candy. Probably some kisses, a lot of touching, maybe, maybe she'd rub his dick if he were super nice or paid her a bit.
Yeah, yeah that all sounded doable.
Jennifer Fawkes still held her phone, still sat in the back of the Uber she'd hired to take her here. The driver waited impatiently in the seat ahead, likely wondering why his fare wasn't getting out of the car. Wasn't like they were in a bad neighborhood or anything. In fact, this was probably one of the best if not the outright best neighborhoods in town. Yet there sat the teenage brunette in the back of her ride, looking down at her cellphone, at the line of texts she'd been exchanging with her fiance.
Jennifer had to tell Jason something. Not like she could just randomly disappear several times a week, particularly on nights they usually designated for dates, and not have some sort of reason. God, he'd think she was cheating on him! Okay, yeah, this was... probably pretty close to that. But it was for money, to pay for their wedding and more importantly, their honeymoon. One of the main benefits of getting married when you were young is that you could super enjoy a beach vacation. Hell, Jennifer had been dieting and exercising for fucking months now to get into shape enough to stun. That and she looked hot in workout clothing.
Technically Jennifer looked hot in just about anything. Near constant exercise and work kept her lean body incredibly trim. Her figure looked like a model before photoshop got to them. Hips flared out to give just enough curve, veering dramatically inward to a thin waist. Her abs showed just a hint of her constant working, a firmness that was hard to deny. Traveling upward brought you to a pair of perky breasts. Sure, she was only a "B" cup, but that might as well stand for "bursting" with how firm they were. Go up farther still and you got a gorgeous face that had a mix of that one indie chick you always wanted to date with girl next door. Deep green eyes bordered on exotic. Reddish brown hair fell about her shoulders, ending halfway up her back.
Currently she dressed in a sort of attractive casual fashion. The low slung jeans clung nicely to her firm heart shaped ass. A bared expanse show the lightly tanned skin, before giving way to a mesh tank-top. She wore some pretty basic underwear beneath, some Calvin Klein brand stuff that wasn't overtly sexy but was a far cry from granny panties. All that settled, she finally left the car, making her way to the house.
It felt like she was walking up executioner's row, her heart thudding, her blood running cold. "Get a grip, Jen," she mumbled to herself, reaching up to slice some hair back, "it's just spending time with a guy. So what if you have to kiss him? Or touch his dick. No big," if there was security, she'd pause at it, before going up toward the house itself. "Least it looks like he's got the money he promised," she mumbled. Not like Jennifer hadn't already double and triple checked that. Last thing she wanted was to do this and find out the guy had been playing her. God, that would have been the worst.
"Yeah, I'm a whore, not a slut," she said jokingly as she paused before the door. She'd knock or ring or whatever, stepping in. "Thaddeus?" she'd either call or greet, depending. Jennifer knew they had some last contract stuff over, but Thaddeus had suggested some kind of "trial run" at his home. Whatever the fuck that means.
Yeah, yeah that all sounded doable.
Jennifer Fawkes still held her phone, still sat in the back of the Uber she'd hired to take her here. The driver waited impatiently in the seat ahead, likely wondering why his fare wasn't getting out of the car. Wasn't like they were in a bad neighborhood or anything. In fact, this was probably one of the best if not the outright best neighborhoods in town. Yet there sat the teenage brunette in the back of her ride, looking down at her cellphone, at the line of texts she'd been exchanging with her fiance.
Jennifer had to tell Jason something. Not like she could just randomly disappear several times a week, particularly on nights they usually designated for dates, and not have some sort of reason. God, he'd think she was cheating on him! Okay, yeah, this was... probably pretty close to that. But it was for money, to pay for their wedding and more importantly, their honeymoon. One of the main benefits of getting married when you were young is that you could super enjoy a beach vacation. Hell, Jennifer had been dieting and exercising for fucking months now to get into shape enough to stun. That and she looked hot in workout clothing.
Technically Jennifer looked hot in just about anything. Near constant exercise and work kept her lean body incredibly trim. Her figure looked like a model before photoshop got to them. Hips flared out to give just enough curve, veering dramatically inward to a thin waist. Her abs showed just a hint of her constant working, a firmness that was hard to deny. Traveling upward brought you to a pair of perky breasts. Sure, she was only a "B" cup, but that might as well stand for "bursting" with how firm they were. Go up farther still and you got a gorgeous face that had a mix of that one indie chick you always wanted to date with girl next door. Deep green eyes bordered on exotic. Reddish brown hair fell about her shoulders, ending halfway up her back.
Currently she dressed in a sort of attractive casual fashion. The low slung jeans clung nicely to her firm heart shaped ass. A bared expanse show the lightly tanned skin, before giving way to a mesh tank-top. She wore some pretty basic underwear beneath, some Calvin Klein brand stuff that wasn't overtly sexy but was a far cry from granny panties. All that settled, she finally left the car, making her way to the house.
It felt like she was walking up executioner's row, her heart thudding, her blood running cold. "Get a grip, Jen," she mumbled to herself, reaching up to slice some hair back, "it's just spending time with a guy. So what if you have to kiss him? Or touch his dick. No big," if there was security, she'd pause at it, before going up toward the house itself. "Least it looks like he's got the money he promised," she mumbled. Not like Jennifer hadn't already double and triple checked that. Last thing she wanted was to do this and find out the guy had been playing her. God, that would have been the worst.
"Yeah, I'm a whore, not a slut," she said jokingly as she paused before the door. She'd knock or ring or whatever, stepping in. "Thaddeus?" she'd either call or greet, depending. Jennifer knew they had some last contract stuff over, but Thaddeus had suggested some kind of "trial run" at his home. Whatever the fuck that means.