The Trade

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Abigail returned home from work to find her father in her apartment, lights out, sitting on her sofa with his head in his hands. “Are you okay?” she asked.

“I’ve done something stupid,” he said. “Damn stupid.”

She was almost afraid to ask. It was obvious he was afraid to tell her. Abigail sat beside him in the dark and tried to reassure him. “Dad, whatever it is, we’ll get through it.” She wasn’t 100% certain that would be true, but if there was any chance of it, she needed him to come clean.

“I had an affair.”

“Well duh. That’s why you and Mom got divorced.”

“More recent than that. I slept with a girl at work.”

“You’d better be careful, Dad. It’s not the 1960s. Sleeping with your secretary these days can get you a rape charge or fired for sexual harassment.

He shook his head. “My secretary’s name is Alan. He’s already slept with two of the executives. If I was interested, I suspect he’d welcome it.”

“Then who was it?”

“Brenda Kingsley.”

“Your boss’ daughter? God, Dad, she’s younger than I am. Is she even legal? I thought she was still in high school.”

“Of course she’s legal. She graduated high school. She turned 18 six months ago. Her father hired her to monitor the company’s Facebook and to send out official Twitter announcements.”

Abigail frowned. “Well, if she’s old enough and you’re not her boss, what’s the problem?”

“Bob found out.”

“Hoo boy. First rule of business, don’t diddle the boss’ daughter. Are you fired?”

“Not yet. He was very understanding. Said he completely understood how a man might become infatuated with a young woman. He’s been there himself.”

“Well, that’s good, then, I guess,” Abigail said. “Isn’t it?”

“He proposed a trade. My daughter for his.”

Abigail was stunned. “You want me to fuck your boss?”

“NO! It’s not what I want. He wants to-“

“Fuck me. Say it, Dad. Your boss wants to fuck me.”

He nodded. “I’m sorry. You’re the girl he’s infatuated with.”

“And you’re fired if I don’t.”

“Yeah.”

“What amazes me,” Abigail said, “is that you’re here in my apartment, telling me about this proposed trade. A real man would have said, ‘Fuck you, Bob! Fuck this job! I quit and you’ll be hearing from my lawyer. And by the way, here’s a knuckle sandwich.’ But instead, you came to me. Obviously, you’re hoping I’ll agree.”

“If I sue, Bob will have to resign. But I’ll still be fired.”

“Dad, you’re pathetic. But fine. I’ll do it. If you’ll ask me.”

“What do you mean?”

“No hints. No hesitation. No euphemisms. Show some balls and ask me for this favour.”

“All right. Abigail, – “

“No, Dad. Look me in the eye.”

“Abigail, would you- “

“Nope, try starting with, ‘Abigail, my precious darling virgin daughter.'”

“Are you really a virgin? I thought- “

“No, Dad, I’m not! Tommy Havers popped my cherry last November. We did it in your RV, parked right in the driveway. But you’re my father. You’re supposed to expect me to be a virgin. You should flinch in horror to hear that some man put his dick in me. You’re supposed to protect my virginity, not pimp me out. Now try again.”

“Abigail, my precious darling virgin daughter, would you please sleep with my boss?”

“Sure, Dad! I’ll wear my footie pajamas and bring my sleep mask. Should I take my own sleeping bag?”

“What?”

Abigail gave him an exasperated look. “Sleep with your boss? Sleep? You said he’s infatuated. Do you really think he wants me to come over and just sleep? No euphemisms. You can’t even use the words, ‘fuck’, ‘sex’, ‘coitus’, ‘mate’, or ‘intercourse’. You know what he wants to do to me. Ask me in specific, explicit terms to let your boss do to me whatever you did to his daughter.”

He went pale, but did as directed. “Abigail, my precious, darling, virgin daughter, will you please go to Bob Kingsley’s hotel room and…and…let him put his, um…penis into your mouth and vagina?”

“You really did it,” Abigail marveled. “You really just asked your own daughter to fuck a man she barely knows just to save your job. I thought that if you actually had to say the words, you wouldn’t be able to go through with it. But no. You really want me to do this.

“So I will. Yes, Daddy! I’ll whore for you. But you’re paying my rent and utilities for a full year. And I want to meet Brenda. She and I are about to have a lot in common. I’ll be able to tell her what her father’s dick tastes like and she can tell me if my Daddy made her come.”

“When does your boss want to have me? You said he’s getting a hotel room. What night? Which hotel?”

Her father glanced toward the kitchen. “He’s at the Oliver. It’s the penthouse. I put the keycard on your counter.”

“Tonight? Oh, that’s just perfect.”

Abigail got out her phone and made a call. Staring into her father’s eyes, she said, “Hey, Brian? I’ve got to cancel for tonight. My Dad needs me to fuck somebody. I’m really sorry. But hey! If you want to bang Kim or Janice, I’m okay with that. Or, even better, go güvenilir canlı bahis siteleri to the Body Shop on Industry Road. The dancers there are totally nude and I hear they’ll fuck for $300. Yes, I’m serious. If you ever want to date me again, you’ll show me a receipt and a souvenir from the strip club.” Abigail disconnected and walked out the door, scooping up the keycard as she left.

*************************************************************************************

Abigail normally took the bus or Uber, but she found her father’s car in the parking lot and took that. She occasionally borrowed it, so she had her own key. She drove to the Oliver, fuming, but determined.

Once she arrived, and entered, hotel security watched her suspiciously, but she had a keycard that let her into the elevator, so they could do nothing. A slot in the elevator read the card and took her straight up to the top floor. When the doors opened, she was in the penthouse itself.

It took up the entire tenth floor. Abigail’s entire apartment could fit in this living room. Three times. And the outside wall was entirely glass, with a wraparound walkway balcony wider than the length of her car and a fabulous view of the city. Standing out there, looking at the view was a man in a bathrobe.

Abigail found an open door and went out to stand near him. “Pussy delivery,” she said. “Abigail Franklin, reporting for duty.”

Bob Kingsley turned to face her. “I love that sassy attitude. When you were little, and your dad brought you to the company picnics, you were an irritating little brat. But now you’ve grown into a beautiful young woman and that bitchiness is very attractive.”

Abigail studied him. Mid-fifties. Tall. Too skinny. Responsible, handsome face, full head of hair, a little grey at the sides. “I remember those picnics. You’re right. I was a brat. I’m surprised you’ve kept track of me all these years.”

“I didn’t. But you’ve been doing the weather on Channel 9’s evening news. When my daughter told me that the pretty girl I was ogling was Joe Franklin’s girl, I started dreaming and scheming. When I learned what was happening between Joe and Brenda, I saw an opportunity. I let it override my paternal anger.”

“I’m here to save my dad’s job. What do I need to do?”

He waved that away. “Joe’s job is safe. It was never in danger. He jumped to a conclusion. I confessed my attraction to you and he offered a trade. Never in my wildest dreams did I expect that, but I couldn’t refuse. At the very least, I hoped I’d get an introduction.”

“But let’s talk about you. That weather job doesn’t pay much. I checked.”

Abigail shrugged. “They wanted a pretty face and a figure that looked good in a tight dress. Eye candy, not education or experience. Eye candy grabs viewers, but there are a lot of pretty girls. They don’t have to pay much to get applicants.”

“What would you say to an arrangement?”

She narrowed her eyes. “Be specific. Speak plain. I won’t be offended. We’ll have things clear between us and I’ll have more respect for you.”

“I wish to hire you as a courtesan.”

“Like a mistress?” Abigail asked.

Kingsley shook his head. “A mistress is like an extra wife. There is affection between the parties. I’m talking a business arrangement. I provide you with an income, and you make yourself sexually available.”

“An exclusive whore in your own private brothel?”

“Better than that. I would not expect you to be on call 24/7. We’ll set a day, say Tuesday for example. If we pick Tuesday, you will save your Tuesdays for me. A meal would be nice. A cocktail would be nice. But sex would be the goal. If I want to see you on any other day, other than Tuesday, I’ll call to see if you’re free, and you can say No.”

“Condoms?”

“Never. I’ll pay for full medical coverage and I expect you to keep yourself clean.”

“What if I have a boyfriend?” Abigail asked.

“Your private life is your own, but I would appreciate it if you use condoms in other relationships.”

She was silent, thinking it over. Sensing agreement, Kingsley pressed his advantage. “Shall we nail down length of service and amount of money?”

“No,” Abigail decided, shaking her head.

“You’re refusing?” he asked in surprise.

“Not at all. You’ve got me pegged pretty good. I took a job where I get paid to be pretty. I’m already a whore. This is an attractive offer. But let’s save the details for another time. I’ll give you my phone number and we can set up an appointment. But I already have a client tonight. My father. He hired me to fuck his boss. Let’s do that first. If I decide I like it, then we can discuss terms for our own arrangement.”

“You don’t expect anything from me for tonight?”

“I came to save my dad’s job. You said it’s safe. So tonight is paid for. If you want to tip me, I won’t say no. And you could do me a favour if you were willing. We could consider that the tip, if you’d like.”

“What’s the favour?”

“I had to cancel a date tonight,” Abigail güvenilir illegal bahis siteleri explained. “I told him to go to a strip club and get laid. But it has occurred to me that he may not have the money. If you could send a driver to 927 Elmore Avenue, take Brian Whittaker to the Body Shop, and cover his entertainment there, I would be very appreciative.”

“Done,” Kingsley said. He made a quick call and Abigail called Brian to let him know a driver was on his way.

Satisfied, Abigail told Kingsley to sit on one of the balcony sofas, facing the city. A glass half-wall was at the edge, preventing people from accidentally stepping off into eternity, but allowing an unobstructed view. You could stand and look over it or sit and look through it.

Abigail stood facing Kingsley. If Mr. Kingsley was infatuated with a weather girl, she would play to that. “Tonight,” she said, “Our skies are clear. A few scattered clouds in the east and a few pieces of clothing on our weather girl. But we can expect these to disappear fairly quickly. The forecast is for total nudity by 8:30 pm.”

She removed her shirt and held it out to her right. “If you look out toward the Fremont Hills area, you will see a red t-shirt. This broadcast, by the way, is sponsored by the rock group, ‘Army Ants’, whose logo you can see on the t-shirt.”

Abigail dropped the shirt to the deck and removed her jeans. “Looking out toward the ocean, you will see a pair of denim pants, brought to us tonight by Levi Brand.”

She had never done anything like this, strip for a man she barely knew, and outside, to boot. She was motivated by a fierce anger with her father for making this trade, with a little left over for Bob Kingsley for accepting. For the gesture to mean anything, she had to go all out. Abigail fully intended to tell her father, in great detail, everything she did here tonight, including her probable acceptance of the courtesan offer. But to her own surprise, she was enjoying the performance.

“Dangling over Beacon Boulevard, you might see a grey bra from Wal-Mart. Oops, there it goes, perhaps to surprise some cabdriver or schoolteacher when it hits the windshield.”

Abigail stood there, topless, for a long moment, letting Kingsley look all he wanted. Abandoning the game, she hooked her thumbs in her panties and slid them down to her thighs, then letting them drop.

She had intended to go the beach with Brian this night. Her new bikini was tissue-thin and made her pubic hair obvious. So she’d shaved smooth and bare. Anybody with sharp eyes might have glimpsed camel toe in the moonlight had her plans not been hijacked by her father. Instead, it was Bob Kingsley who benefited.

Kingsley opened his robe to expose his jutting cock. Abigail looked at it and nodded. Crouching down and digging in the pocket of her discarded pants, she pulled out her phone. “I promised my Dad I’d let you put your penis in my mouth and vagina. Do you mind if I take a picture and sent it to him for proof?” Amused, he agreed.

Abigail knelt on the deck and took Kingsley’s cock in her mouth. She took several selfies. She looked at the camera, she looked at Kingsley, she kissed the tip, she took him deep, snapping photos of each new pose. Abigail was taking the pictures to get back at her father, but she found she was enjoying it.

And the pictures were making her wet. Just looking them was having an effect on her. Abigail had never been much for porn, but seeing her own face sucking a cock like it were a candy cane, was the most erotic thing she’d ever earn.

She started posing, rather than simply taking pics for proof. She took pictures of her tongue pressed to the shaft of Kingsley’s dick, licking his balls, kissing every part of his cock, and with the head in her mouth and her hand wrapped around him.

“Listen,” she finally said, “I’m just playing around here. You let me know if you want to get down to it.”

“I am very much enjoying what you’re doing,” he said breathlessly.

Abigail grinned. “Oh, I know that. You’re hard as a rock and you’ve got a girl’s mouth on you. Of course you’re enjoying it. But sooner or later, you’ll want to come. Just tell me when. Did you want to come in my mouth or pussy, by the way? Both would be fine, I suppose, but, well you know.”

“I do? What do I know?”

Abigail blushed, feeling silly for doing so. She’d stripped naked on the balcony, discussed terms of becoming a whore, and sucked a man’s cock. But it was only now that she got embarrassed.

“You’re, um, older,” she said. “Older man can’t always, you know, get it up twice. I’m yours for the night, as many times as you want me. But if once is the limit, I thought maybe I should ask where you wanted to finish.”

“Very considerate of you,” Kingsley said. “I think I can manage a couple of good ones. Where would you like me to come?”

“Oh, it makes no difference to me. I’m good either way.”

“But I’m curious. Where do you like a guy to come?”

Abigail snapped a picture of herself with her güvenilir bahis şirketleri tongue on Kingsley’s balls and the head of his cock resting on her nose. Then she answered, “Well, that’s complicated. For one thing, I’ve only been with two guys. So I don’t have a whole lot of experience to develop a real preference. But, in general, I think in is better than out. Like if you want to come on my face, I’m good with that because I’d love to take some pictures of my face covered with cum. But mostly, it’s too sticky and messy. So it’s better if it goes inside. Pussy or mouth, either one, unless I’m worried about getting pregnant. But I’m on birth control, so no problem. Anywhere you want.”

“Anywhere?” Kingsley asked. “You’ve got a fine ass. Any chance that’s available?”

Abigail blushed again. “I don’t know. I don’t understand the appeal. I mean, really. I’m a girl. I’m female. I’ve got a genuine pussy, especially designed to get filled with a dick. Unless he’s gay, why would any man want to stick his penis in an asshole?”

Kingsley laughed. “It’s a good question. I don’t know. Maybe it’s a dominance thing. Conquest. Maybe a guy likes the satisfaction of knowing he’s fucked her in every hole she’s got.”

“All right. I can see that, I guess. You want to put in my ears and nostrils too?”

“I’ll pass. But I am interested in putting it in your ass.”

“Not tonight, okay?” Abigail decided. “I promised my dad you could fuck me and get a blowjob. If I agree to be your courtesan, we can talk about my ass.”

“So it’s possible?”

“It’s even probable. Just not tonight.”

“That’s fair. Can I fuck you now?” Kingsley was ready.

“Of course. I’m actually really wet down there. Where do you want me?”

“At the edge. Against the railing. Do you want to take your pictures first?”

“Yes, please,” Abigail nodded.

She straddled his lap and lowered herself over him. She took pictures of Kingsley’s cock poking up at her pussy, less than an inch away. Going lower, until the head was nudging at her entrance, she took another dozen. Then she switched to video and sank down on him, capturing his penetration of her.

Abigail lay on the sofa and handed the phone to Kingsley. “Get my face and pussy in the frame as you stick it in. So he can clearly see it’s me getting fucked.” Kingsley had to lean back to get the shot, but he managed it.

“Beautiful,” she approved, taking the camera back. She settled down on him, taking him deep, but barely aware of it as she looked at the pictures. “I’ve got enough now. I’ll send these to my Dad and put the phone away. Do you want copies? I can add your e-mail.”

“I would love copies.” He gave her the address.

“Done then. It will send them automatically, five at a time, HD quality. Do you want me at the edge now?”

Kingsley let her stand up and had her lean on the glass half wall, looking out at the city. Abigail had never tried rear-entry sex. She had refused Brian when he asked. It seemed distasteful to her. Impersonal. She wasn’t a dog. She didn’t want to get fucked like a dog. If a man didn’t want to look in her face, she didn’t want him inside her.

But with Kingsley, none of that mattered. The whole thing was impersonal. A favour for her father. A financial arrangement that would pay her rent for twelve months and get Brian off so she wouldn’t feel guilty. It might even be considered a job interview for the position of courtesan. She didn’t need to see his face.

Abigail looked at the glimmering lights of the city and Kingsley put his hands on her ass. She felt his cock poking at her, searching for her opening, then the knuckles of his right hand on her butt as he took himself in hand and guided his cock to her pussy.

For a moment, Abigail feared he would try to shove it in her butt. He was perfectly positioned to do so. She decided not to stop him if he did, but the whole courtesan thing would be off the table. To her relief, he didn’t attempt it.

Kingsley’s cock slid easily inside her. He’d already been there, of course, but Abigail had barely paid attention as she took her pictures. Now, she was very, very aware of his flesh occupying hers.

She was amazed to discover that she loved rear entry. It seemed deeper, for one thing. He was all the way in. The hair of his balls tickled her clit. And the position made her feel so incredibly female.

A dick entering her pussy always made her feel like a girl, of course. Only a girl had this special, built-in penis haven. Sitting on a man, riding him cowgirl-style was wonderful, though it made her thighs ache. And feeling a man’s crushing weight nailing her to the mattress was certainly a very female experience.

A gay man could probably fuck another man’s ass in missionary position, she assumed, but there would be the preliminary swordfight as the two cocks maneuvered for position, trying to get out of each other’s way. And both men would always be aware that the guy on the bottom, with the dick in his bottom, can always switch positions. Whose dick is inside whose ass can be alternated at any time.

But a girl under a guy understands the opposite. Without artificial equipment, she can never lie on top of a man and fill his body with hers. Receiving a penis into herself in such an inherently passive and submissive position really makes a girl feel feminine.

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