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their tongues in my pussy, but to sleep with them every night, EEEEEWWWW!"

That reminds me, the majority of my girls were in their twenties and had boyfriends. I didn't understand it, but then I thought back to when I was twenty-two and been in the business for almost four years. I met a guy while I was back home visiting my parents.

Naturally, they had no idea what I did. They thought I was a waitress. Dad wondered, "I hope you don't have to wear one of those skimpy outfits." Mom reminded me that I'd been raised in a good Christian home and should save myself for marriage, As they say that ship had long sailed. I was fucking and blowing four, five, sometimes six guys a night; five or six night a week.

Anyhow, I accompanied mom and dad to a church social where I met Lionel. We'd gone to high school together. I knew in the back of mind that I shouldn't get involved, but it just happened. When we were alone and started making out like high school kid and he tried to feel me up, I reminded him, "Lionel, I think that's far enough. When I get married, my husband will be the first."

Liar, liar, pants on fire.

He didn't say anything and didn't try again, although we went out every night while I was home. The night before I left, "Iris, my job here is a dead end. What if I moved to Nevada to be near you?"

I didn't know what to say. He couldn't know; it would certainly get back to everyone at home. "Lionel, I like you and I have fun when we're together, but I'm not ready to get serious."

I thought that was the end of it, but three months after I was back in Reno, Lionel called. "I'm at the Holiday Inn, I've decided to move out here. Dinner tonight?"

I couldn't, not tonight. I had four appointments. I was fortunate that the house manager, Mrs. Grabenow was understanding.

She was in her sixties. I asked her for advice. "If you like him and want a steady boyfriend, be up front with him. Iris, sooner or later your parents will find out. Make it on your terms. Tomorrow, during the day bring him here. There will be a few girls working. He'll see for himself and unless he's a complete dunce, he'll figure it out."

I was scared shitless when I drove Lionel to the house where I worked. "Lionel, this is where I work. You're probably going to be shocked, but this is who I am and what I do. You might want to consider going back home or at the least, forget about me."

There were two women my age sitting in the parlor. They were dressed much like I dressed when I was working. If it's necessary, to make it clearer, they were wearing lingerie that showed off almost everything. Maria's ancestry was from somewhere in Italy. Her black bush was almost completely visible through whatever it was she was wearing, and except for her nipples, all of her tits were showing. Lena was dressed basically the same.

Lionel stared. I didn't blame him. They were both stunningly beautiful.

It was on the second floor where most of the girls worked and where three or four girls were currently busy that I thought Lionel would have a heart attack. Although doors were closed, you could hear grunting and groaning. Like I said, we were all good actresses. From behind one door, I clearly heard, "Oh Charlie, oh Charlie, my pussy's never had a bigger cock. Fuck me, Charlie, ooooh, Charlie."

He looked at me. It was clear he knew. Knew what I did. "Iris, I guess you're no longer saving yourself for your wedding night."

"No, no I'm not." I pointed toward the door where Charlie was getting the fucking of his life. "Lionel, that's who I am. Before you made any serious decisions about you and me, you needed to know. I'll take you back to your hotel."

We'd just got in the car, "Iris, does that mean you're not free for dinner tonight or any night?"

"Oh, Lionel, are you sure? I'd like it to work between us, but you'd have to erase some pretty vivid pictures from your mind."

"I understand."

I scooted over from the driver's seat and hugged him and kissed him. You might say we were making out right in broad daylight. "Lionel, let's get to the hotel. You can check out. I'll show you where I live."

Lionel, never mentioned my work again, except to thank Mrs. Grabenow, who had connections everywhere for getting him a job in one of the casinos. Better yet, his hours usually coincided with mine.

You probably want to know about the sex part.

Lionel wasn't a virgin either, but it wasn't until three days after he'd moved into my apartment that we had a chance.

He was getting used to the late hours and being on his feet all the time.

I, well, as you know, I spent hours and hours on my back or on my knees. When I got home, I just wanted to sleep. Besides my pussy didn't need or even want another cock. As for blowjobs; when I got home my lips were usually raw.

The night in question, I got home before Lionel and took a long, hot bath. I convinced myself that I had to convince my body that Mrs. Grabenow asked me if I could handle one more client. It happened like that two or three times a month.

I came out of the bathroom wearing an elegant negligee; not anything I'd wear at work.

"Wow, Iris, you look stunning."

"Lionel, I know you're tired, but I think it's time."

I took off the negligee and stood before him naked. I was embarrassed. You might laugh. This wasn't a client; this was a man who'd moved almost 2000 miles to be with me. He hadn't said it yet, but he must love me. That seemed even more obvious after he saw where I worked and what he had to know what I did.

"Iris, I've been waiting for this day, since you first left home, but tonight I'm exhausted."

"That's okay, Lionel. I know what to do." I helped him out of his pants and got on my knees.

Above, I bragged about my ability as a cocksucker, but tonight I outdid myself. Lionel had a nice circumcised cock and I used all my skill to make it harder than I'm sure it ever was. I was pleasantly surprised that it took him a long time to cum. I was pleased when he filled me my mouth with some very tasty man cream. As tastiest as had ever crossed my lips. Do you have any idea how much cum a girl like me swallows? Probably gallons over my career.

We stayed together for almost two years. A week after that first blowjob, we fucked for the first time. We'd both had the day off. Well-rested, I banged him far better than any client. He deserved better; he was my lover.

The next morning, Lionel ate me for the first time. I was pleased that he didn't hesitate, knowing what had been in and out of my pussy the last few years. To be honest, his tongue wasn't very good, but I thought in time I could teach him how I liked it.

Over the years there'd been a few other long-time lovers. By that I mean more than a year.

Once I bought my own house there was only the occasional client like Ralph from Indianapolis or Coach Hamilton.

TO BE CONTINUED

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