Ascending Lauren Ch. 18

"Fuck me, fuck me, oh dear God FUCK ME!"

The similarity between the women was uncanny, and in his unfettered lust, the girl thrashing before him flipped in rapid succession.

Caroline

Lauren.

Caroline.

Lauren.

"FUUUUUUUCCCCCCKKKKKK," Zane roared as he came with a bullet, the rubber's reservoir filling with hot, taboo semen that was just a thin latex layer away from flooding the womb of this once innocent family friend.

"Yesssssss...you cummin' in your goddaughter's pussy, baby?"

Picardo staggered backwards in horror, staring dubiously at the hairy wet gash he'd just fucked silly, then down at the steaming juices dripping off the condom which was clinging precariously to his cock. A familiar question from that fateful night with Lauren echoed in his head.

'What have we done?'

Caroline turned around with a grin, resting her bare ass on the work bench. She let go that deviant laugh all Miller girls apparently had, grabbing a shop towel and wiping up a stream trickling down her legs.

"You've been a naughty boy, Unca Zane."

Shaking his head like he'd just been sucker punched, the big man threw the impish moll over his shoulder and headed for the bedroom.

"You haven't seen shit yet, little girl."

If hell was where he was headed, he was damned sure going to enjoy the ride.

+++++

January 25th. Four weeks to go.

"So, you're taking some well-deserved vacation time next week?" Pedro Alvarez asked Rekrap's chief office manager as the two sat in the lobby bar of the Hotel Majestic, just a stone's throw from the company's headquarters. They'd taken a small contingent of employees out to show appreciation for the team's hard work in preparing for an upcoming audit. It'd taken two weeks of burning the midnight oil, but they were finally ready.

Lauren nodded. "Going back to Iowa to help my husband pack up."

"Must be exciting to finally close that chapter of your life."

"It is."

In more ways than one, she thought.

"Well, I'm done drinking. The wife will be looking for me. See ya when you get back. And thanks for all your help!"

Raising her glass, she watched the company's CFO exit the club and hail a taxi. Lauren looked around the bar, empty now, save for a few businessmen nursing beers. Alvarez had sworn by their appetizers, and he was right. The drinks? Not so much. In fact, it was time she rambled home as well.

"Looks like you could use some company," a voice from behind spoke as she was gathering her things.

Turning, Lauren saw a nice-looking olive-skinned man, dressed smartly in a brown blazer and tan slacks, sitting on a nearby stool. She hadn't noticed him before.

"Do I?" she asked skeptically, draining her six or seventh drink. The counting had stopped hours ago.

The man smiled. "I guess that's up to you."

"Yes, it certainly is," Lauren nodded in agreement, her words slightly slurred.

He introduced himself as Ahmad, a Turkish electronics salesman who was looking to unwind before heading to the airport.

"Sucks to be you."

"No, actually, I just made seventy-five thousand dollars, so I feel quite good about that."

Lauren frowned. "Right, sorry. Been a long week."

Ahmad's eyes flitted over the decidedly not-safe-for-work outfit, drinking in the shiny blue bandeau crop top and tight black bodycon pencil skirt. Since she lived close, she had run home after work and changed into something more comfortable. The blouse accentuated her small braless breasts, allowing just a hint of nipples to anyone caring to look, and the skirt, made of stretchy material, hugged her waist and thighs with no forgiveness. A little more than business casual, but anything to raise her employees' spirits, if not give them something to talk about around the Monday morning water cooler. What's a boss for?

"And your name?"

"Lauren."

"Care for another drink, Lauren?"

The pretty brunette cocked her head. She really should go home, but one more couldn't hurt.

"Sure. A Hurricane."

"A mighty wind. Good choice."

The pair chatted for at least thirty minutes, their conversation becoming increasingly flirty. He'd flown in from his company's American headquarters in Nashville to close a deal and was returning on the redeye in three hours. Likeable, well-groomed, and articulate, Lauren took an instant liking to him. Finally, after one of those pregnant silences that finds its way into any long discussion, Ahmad said what was really on his mind.

"Would you like to add to your own coffers tonight, Lauren?"

Lauren's brow furrowed with confusion. "Huh?"

The salesman's eyes grew wide, realizing he may have misjudged the entire situation.

"I'm...I'm so sorry, I think I've made a grave mistake. I saw the gentleman you were with leave...you're at a hotel bar alone. Oh my God, please forgive me."

She started to say something, then stopped. It may have been the booze or the two earlier bumps she had when peeing, but the only thing Lauren could do was break into laughter.

"Did I say something funny?"

She shook her head.

"So that's what you meant by unwinding?"

Ahmad blinked. "Well, yes, I just assumed..."

Gazing down into her drink, Lauren rubbed the back of her neck, then tossed her hair, fixing him with a sly smile.

"How much?"

"Excuse me?"

"I didn't stutter. How much?"

"Really? I...I don't know. Don't you usually set that kind of thing?"

Lauren bit her lip. He was right. The conversation with Chloe came to mind. Should I?

"One grand," she whispered in his ear.

"That's quite high."

"You just said you made seventy-five large today."

Ahmad winced. Yes, he had.

"Do me and you still go home rich. Besides," Lauren winked, "I'm worth it."

The two stared into each other's eyes for what seemed like hours.

"Okay, deal."

Downing her drink, she couldn't believe how quickly the evening had taken a turn.

"Got a room?"

Ahmad shook his head with disappointment. "No."

"Car?"

His face lit up. "In the garage. Rental."

Lauren grabbed her clutch, popped the cherry from the glass into her mouth and slid off the stool.

"Let's go."

+++++

The pair could've been any innocuous couple as they walked briskly to a Buick in the underground garage. The big car chirped as Ahmad unlocked it remotely and opened the sedan's rear door. Lauren ducked in first while he surveyed the area. Satisfied no one else had seen them, he joined the lovely brunette in the back seat, looking a bit nervous.

"You're not police, are you?"

Lauren lifted her butt off the leather seat and wiggled the skirt up to her waist, exposing a black lace thong. Pulling it aside, she let him get a good look at her bare pussy.

"Would a cop show you this?"

Placing his fingers gently on its bare folds, she allowed him to pet the treasure that promised so much fun. It had been a week or so since it had been shaved, and he could feel the stubble along the outer labia. His cock responded as any man would.

"No, I guess not."

Slipping a middle finger into what he believed to be just another bar hooker's wet snatch, the salesman was pleased when she seemed to be into it, sighing and pressing her back against the seat. The index and ring fingers followed, causing Lauren to moan and open her thighs wide for easier access. The man's fingers dug deeper, probing, moving, exploring. Soon, his hand was a dripping mess of clear, sticky juices and the heels of her ankle boots were planted firmly along the back of the front seat. She splayed her legs, one knee touching the door handle, the other against his warm body, inviting him to own what he paid for.

"Mmmmm, ahhhh," Lauren mewled, squirming and writhing as Kumiho began to rise again, hips jerking involuntarily at his touch.

"Oh shit!"

The Turkish national grinned. Traveling the world for his company was a lonely existence, and he'd often seek the company of whores to while away the hours. Whether or not they reaped any pleasure from their job, he did not care, but there was some degree of satisfaction in making one cum. With his free hand, he lifted Lauren's top, freeing her tiny tomato-sized tits, and immediately began rolling the rigid nipples between thumb and forefinger. He was impressed at how perky they were despite her age.

"Oooooooooh, yessss!"

"Like that, bitch?"

A gasp of air escaped as the man's tone darkened. Unable to control her emotions, Lauren could only nod rapidly, like a five-year-old wanting more candy. Manicured nails played with her breasts while others burrowed knuckles deep into her sopping cunt.

"Ooh, YES, just like that."

"When's the last time you came, whore?"

He chuckled at her quivering hands, one on each knee, frail fingers digging into tanned skin.

"You need to start fucking real men."

"OH...MY...GOD!"

Lauren's head flew back, mouth slacked as she stared at the car's cloth ceiling.

"That's it baby, cum for Ahmad." By now he was pretty much fisting the pathetic slut.

"YESSSSSSSSSSS!"

Hips bucking, her head slammed repeatedly into the headrest.

"Do it! Do it for me, bitch! Cum in my hand!"

Elsewhere in the underground garage, a janitor paused as a high-pitched howl echoed through the concrete structure. It lasted only seconds, then faded, like a coyote baying at the moon. Shrugging, he went back to emptying trash cans.

"Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god." Lauren relaxed her grip, trying to regain control of her breathing.

Pleased with himself, Ahmad didn't let her rest long. After all, he had a plane to catch.

"Okay, enough of you."

Sitting upright, he unzipped his slacks and grabbed a fistful of hair.

"Wait!"

Frustrated, but understanding the importance of protection, he allowed just enough slack in her mane so she could get to her purse. Condom in hand, she was yanked back and head forced into his lap. A semi-flaccid cock poked through the flaps of the fly, begging to be sucked. It was not large by any means, and Lauren found one hand could cover its entire length while she licked his hairy balls, stopping every so often to spit out a stray pubic hair. It didn't take long for him to get hard, and, after rolling the rubber over his waiting manhood, the executive-turned-prostitute went to work, earning her pay.

Lauren spent the next five minutes in full-on slut mode, dutifully stroking, pulling, squeezing, and licking her client, all the while gagging and gurgling. Those were a rough few minutes too. Besides having her face forcibly held to his groin and mouth speared repeatedly, the traveling salesman occasionally pulled her off, just to see her face and makeup run, gloating at the sight of spittle dripping from her lips and onto his trousers. He'd laugh heartily, only to shove her down again.

As the whore bobbed in his lap, Ahmad frequently checked his watch. He'd need to leave soon or miss his flight. Determined to get his money's worth, he finally jerked the hooker's mouth off his cock and pushed his trousers down around his ankles. Pulling her on top, he slapped her face.

"Fuck me, bitch."

Lauren reeled but kept her composure. Face to face now, she straddled his waist, knees pressed against the back seat. Reaching down, she guided his rock-hard shaft into her. It slid into the wet mess like a hot knife into butter.

"Ahhhhhhhhhhhh," both sighed, eyes closed, enjoying that first penetration.

Adjusting to the awkward position, the pair began their illicit lovers' dance in the back of the rental. The car rocked gently at first, then became more notable as the sex intensified. At some point, Lauren slipped off her blouse, freeing her itty-bitty titties, the skirt amassed around her waist. Ahmad pulled her chest to his face and suckled the small breasts while she bounced in his lap.

"Oh yeah," he murmured, rolling his tongue over hardening nipples.

"FUH-UCK ME!" Lauren cried. "Please FUCK ME!"

She placed her hands on the car's ceiling to gain leverage in sliding along his hips. Long black hair cascaded down her naked spine as she thrashed like a serpent, back arched and hips grinding frantically into his cock. Ahmad had to admire this beautiful fahişe, amazed at her enthusiasm. Most whores put on a good act, but this one...

"YES...YES...YES...YES...YES!" Lauren screamed with glee, putting her back into it, pelvis crashing pelvis.

An older couple in their seventies happened to walk by on the way to their car, and while the occupants of the rocking Buick didn't notice, they certainly did. Neither lovers' face was visible, mostly concealed by a thick black mane of flying hair, but the woman's profile was perfectly clear. Tiny breasts jiggled as she humped the lucky fellow beneath her in a feverish, almost berserk way. The old lady simply shook her head and kept walking, while the husband lingered, eventually getting a brief look at the girl's face. Smirking, he too moved on.

"Gonna cum!"

Lauren's body shook as Ahmad grabbed her hips, thrusting hot steel up and past her sodden lips with urgency. They grunted in unison, moving as one, faster, deeper...both desperately needing release. Arms wrapped around his neck, she squeezed hard, body shaking. Throwing her head back with a squeal, Lauren came again...and again...and again, just like earlier, only much louder. Her cunt clenched tightly around his dick, holding it hostage for its milky white prize. Finally, it relinquished, his cries joining hers reverberating throughout the garage.

"Fuck yes, sevgilim!" the salesman yelled, filling the condom with semen, his orgasm intense, but more measured and calmer than any Lauren had ever seen.

For several minutes, Ahmad held her close, stroking the long, disheveled hair that had been flying in his face. He inhaled her delicate perfume and smiled; glad he spent the time with such a talented madam. They lay quietly in each other's arms, cock still in her, rigid and pulsating. As the fog of their climaxes dissipated, he remembered his flight...and promptly tossed her to the floorboard.

"I have to go."

Removing the rubber, he quickly yanked up his pants, fished out his wallet, and handed her ten one-hundred-dollar bills.

"Well done."

Without a word, Lauren picked herself up, and barely had a chance to put on her top before he was shooing her out the door. The next thing she knew, she was standing by herself in the middle of an empty parking garage watching taillights disappear up the ramp. Despite temperatures in the seventies, she suddenly felt cold and alone. And why shouldn't she? She was just a whore for the taking. Not a cheap one, mind you, but a whore just the same. What did he say? 'Well done.' Like grilled steak.

With another bump from the ever-present sniffer, she stepped to the elevator and pressed the up button. Moments later, the doors opened, and a kindly janitor wheeled out a cart to continue his nightly rounds.

"Goodnight," he offered in passing.

Tired and hungry, Lauren leaned up against the side of the lift, and exhaled deeply, blowing bangs from her eyes with a puff.

"Goodnight."

+++++

The nice thing about walking home is it gives one time to think, especially at night when the sidewalks are rolling up. Lauren left the hotel and headed in the general direction of her apartment, meandering through the streets as she contemplated where life was taking her. For years, she was positive that being a good wife, mother, and pillar of the community was her calling. Now, she wasn't so sure.

Taking a seat at a deserted bus stop, Lauren pondered the need to have purpose, an identity she could call her own, and a way to express that to the world. As the traffic in front of her cleared, a bright red neon sign caught her eye.

Tattoos, Piercings, and Love.

Smiling, she rose and crossed the street. After staring at the discreet store front for several minutes, the pensive office manager nodded to herself, opened the door, and went inside.