The Stories We Whisper at Night

by Sky Corgan

  “You're not too bad yourself, stud.” She winks at me.

  “Delilah would be pissed if she found out about this.”

  “Delilah doesn't have to know.”

  No. She doesn't. We won't tell her. It's for the best.

  Marcy's words have given me the green light to go. I wrap my fingers around the satin top of her corset and pull it down, causing her breasts to spill over. My fingers glide across the soft flesh, letting her taut pink nipples strain between my fingers as I squeeze and move in to kiss her again. She leans back on the sofa and allows me to kiss a path down her delicate neck. Her perfume intoxicates me, some sweet mixture of fruit and flowers. I growl softly as her fingers rake through my hair, pulling me against her.

  I know I shouldn't be doing this, but I can't stop. I won't stop. I've never wanted a woman more in all my life. And nothing could break me away from her right now.

  My mouth circles one of her nipples, and she arches her back, pressing her body against me as she grips my hair. I twirl my tongue around the swollen bud, then pinch it between my teeth before giving it a gentle tug. Her breath hitches and her hand moves down my neck to grip the collar of my shirt. I break free from her body for a moment to help her pull my shirt over my head.

  Once my shirt is off, she urges me to lie back. Then she climbs on top of me, grinding her hips on my lap. It's sweet torture. The kind that drives a man insane.

  “You're so sexy,” I tell her, but she already knows it. She knows how incredibly gorgeous she looks writhing on top of me. She knows I can hardly stand it. That I want to throw her down and ravage her body like some carnal beast.

  “Mmm, Knox. Such a man.” She reaches both arms back and raises them over her head, doing a sensual dance on top of me. Her breasts rise and fall with her breaths. Her eyes are closed, and her cheeks have a lusty glow to them. My name sounds like heaven on her lips. I want to hear her screaming it when I'm driving into her.

  I sit up and bury my face between her breasts, kissing and worshiping her as my hands wrap around her to unzip the corset. Thank God it's not the kind that laces. I'd never be able to get something like that off of her without breaking it. Her hands fist into my hair again, holding me against her until the zipper reaches the bottom of the garment, and I pull it free from her.

  She smiles down at me, pleased. “You want me, stud?”

  “More than I've ever wanted a woman in all my life,” I confess. In that moment, I think I would kill to have her.

  “You're really handsome.” She traces my jawline with her fingertip, admiring my features.

  “I'm glad you think so.”

  “I do. Just looking at you without your shirt on gets me all hot and bothered. I hope your dick is as impressive as the rest of you.” She's so damn bold. It only turns me on more. My cock twitches against her groin as if to say it's ready to show her.

  “I'm going to fuck you so hard you won't be able to work tomorrow.” All tact is lost with my rising lust. My words are raw and full of meaning. I'm not sure if she wants to be taken gently or not, but it's beyond my control now. She's got me way too worked up for soft and sweet.

  “Mmm. Don't write a check that your dick can't cash,” she teases, grabbing at my belt and giving it a hard pull.

  “I never say what I don't mean.” I reach up and nip at her bottom lip, drawing it between my teeth. She leans down to kiss me, and I wrap my hands around her waist. My hips move up to meet her as undeniable need courses through me.

  When we break free from the kiss, I lay her back on the sofa and hike up her skirt. She splays her legs for me, hanging one off the edge of the sofa. She's wearing sheer black lace panties. I can see right through them to her shaved lips. My mouth waters to taste them. I hook my fingers around the thin material and pull it aside, exposing her. I scoot back so that I can lean in and lick up the seam of her sex. She groans and tosses her head back, closing her eyes.

  I wrap my hands around her thighs and pull her into me, burying my face in her wetness. She smells and tastes exquisite, like my own personal piece of heaven. The little moans she rewards me with make the experience all the better as I lick and suck and tease. Her breathing picks up, and she squirms slightly beneath me. Then she presses me deeper between her folds, and I know she's about to reach her peak. I bear down into her until she gasps and her muscles tense.

  “Knox,” she breathes my name softly. “Oh God. It's so good.”

  My tongue darts into her to lick up the wetness seeping from her pleasure. It's not until I know that she's fully satiated that I withdraw.

  The look in her eyes has changed. Before it was soft and sensual. Now it's dark and needy. She props herself up on her elbows before pulling herself into a sitting position. Her hands reach for my belt, and she quickly unfastens it before moving to my zipper. I straighten myself and watch her work. She pushes my pants and boxers over my hips, wrapping her hand around my engorged member the second it comes into view. I groan from the sheer bliss of her touch. The thought of having her lips around me is almost enough to drive me over the edge, but I won't allow that. I've wanted this for too long to ruin it now.

  Her tongue flits out to lap across my slit, and I moan in approval. My eyes rake over her body. She looks perfect. The goddess all over again. She wraps both hands around my cock, stroking it as she takes me into her mouth. I fist her hair but don't guide her. She knows what to do. She needs no instruction.

  I tilt my head back as she bobs up and down on my manhood. Her mouth is skilled. Her hands, equally so. She gently tugs and massages my balls while she sucks me off, taking long leisurely strokes, teasing the underside of my shaft with her tongue before nibbling along the ridges of my glans. Everything feels incredible. Just being with her feels incredible.

  “You taste good,” she mumbles around me.

  “Not half as good as you did. I could eat your pussy all day.”

  She lets my dick fall from her mouth and grins. “Maybe we'll have to test that someday.”

  “Anytime you want, gorgeous.” I help her up to her knees in front of me so that we're both kneeling on the couch. I take her face in my hands and kiss her while she wraps her arms around my broad shoulders. Her nails drag across my skin, causing a shiver to roll down my spine. I have to have her. No more foreplay. No more waiting.

  “Mmm. He seems ready.” She reaches down and lazily strokes my cock. He's more than ready. He's been ready since the moment I first laid eyes on her.

  “We best not keep him waiting, then.” I wrap my arms around her and pick her up. She squeals and clings to me as I effortlessly carry her into the bedroom.

  Relief rushes through me when I notice there are two twin beds instead of just one. I would have felt guilty having sex with her on Delilah's bed, but that wouldn't have stopped me. I'm not going to fuck Marcy on the floor. She deserves better than that.

  “Which one is yours?” I ask.

  “That one.” She points to the bed on the right side of the room.

  I toss her onto it before pulling my pants and boxers off the rest of the way. They were already practically down to my ankles by the time we got to the bedroom. It's a miracle I didn't fall. She watches me with a seductive grin on her face.

  “Like what you see?” I notice that she's staring at my cock.

  “Mm-hmm. It's so big. I'm wondering what it will feel like inside of me.” She presses a fingertip to her lips, trying to look innocent. She's far from innocent though. We both know that.

  “You're about to find out.” I crawl between her legs and slide my hands beneath her skirt, grabbing her panties and pulling them off in one fell swoop. She leans to the side to unzip her skirt, and I help her take that off as well. It's not until we're both naked that I realize I don't have a condom. Curse the heavens.

  “Shit,” I growl, pulling my eyes away from her. This is the worst time to remember something like that, when we're both already so worked up. “I don't have a condom.”

  “I'
m on the pill.” She bows her legs for me, not looking the least bit concerned. It's music to my ears, and a feast for my eyes. My mind gets back in the game as I look her over. She's so perfect. Nice full breasts. Slim waist. Beautiful face. I can't believe she wants me.

  “That's the best news I've heard all day.” I try to hide the smile from my voice as I crawl over her body. I take a moment to admire her, brushing a strand of hair away from her face.

  “You're a lot more gentle than you look.” Her eyes have gone soft. She's staring at me with a strange, endearing affection. It makes me want to kiss her. Makes me want to please her all the more.

  “Is that what you like? Gentle?”

  “I think I just like you.” She grins, looking down my body, soaking me in. “I've wanted you since the moment I laid eyes on you. I felt bad that you're Delilah's brother, but I hoped you wanted me too.”

  “I do want you. So badly.” I narrow my eyes slightly to show her the depth of my words.

  “Then take me. Take me like you want to. I'm yours.” She wraps her arms around my neck and draws me to her, kissing me hungrily.

  I return her affection, bracing myself on my forearm while I grab the base of my shaft and guide my glans to her entryway. Her breath hitches as my cock presses against her pussy. Her eyes tell me that she's ready for it though. She withdraws from the kiss and tightens her grip on my shoulders as I push into her. The gasp that escapes her throat as our bodies connect is magical. It feels like I've been waiting my whole life for this moment. Everything is just too perfect.

  “Fuck me, Knox.” It's a demand, not a request.

  I pull myself up onto my knees and begin thrusting, savoring the feeling of her body as I glide in and out. Her moans spur me on. My eyes lock onto her lusty expression as I push into her again and again. Her legs wrap around my hips, and her hands travel down to dig her nails in my ass, pulling me into her.

  “Harder. Faster,” she cries out, and I obey, picking up the pace until the friction is more than I can handle. She's being very vocal now. Most of the complex can probably hear us. Her hands leave me, and she presses back into the bed. I can feel her calves flex as her toes curl. “I'm coming.”

  Her pussy squeezes around me, and I lose myself as well. I slam into her a final time before my body gives way, and contractions rip through me. My balls pull up as they spill into her, and I'm left breathless, intoxicated by the moment. Intoxicated by her.

  I stay inside of her for several seconds, savoring the feel of our bodies connected. Sex has never been so good before. Maybe it never will be afterward. All I know is that I don't want to lose this moment.

  But nothing lasts forever. I open my eyes and gaze down at her. She has an equally satisfied look on her face. My exhausted expression cracks into a smirk, and then we both start laughing, though I doubt either one of us knows why.

  I pull out and lie down on the bed next to her before drawing her into my arms. I nuzzle my face in her hair and inhale her scent. Now she smells like perfume and sex. Perfume and me. It's a good smell.

  “That was amazing,” she purrs into my chest before stretching.

  “It was.” I kiss her on top of the head and relax against the pillow that we're now sharing.

  “You're not going to tell Delilah, are you?” She gives me an uncertain look.

  “No. I wouldn't do that.” I stare up at the popcorn ceiling, wondering what this means for us now. What happens next? Do I keep coming over here pretending like nothing happened between Marcy and I? Will she want to have sex again? Those are the questions I should be asking, but instead I ask, “So what would something like this normally cost me?”

  She lets out an audible sigh, hiding her expression from view. “This isn't going to cost you anything.” There's a hint of bitterness in her voice.

  “That's not what I meant. I meant what would you usually charge a client for this.” I don't even realize how insensitive the question sounds until I've already said it. It's too late to take it back though, and the truth of the matter is that she is a call girl. She charges for sex on a regular basis. I can't help being curious.

  “What you and I just did? It would cost around two grand.”

  I hiss at the price. Jesus Christ. That's more than I make in a month. “And how much do you get of that?”

  “Six hundred dollars.” She shifts uncomfortably against me, as if the confession makes her feel dirty.

  “Holy crap, that's a lot of money.” That's an understatement. I can't even imagine making six hundred dollars in a single night. No wonder Delilah was tempted. Hell, I would trade in my dick for a vagina if I could make that kind of money.

  “It's all in a night's work.” She sounds tired. “Of course, I don't always make that much. Sometimes I make more. Sometimes I make less.”

  “How do you make more?” I quirk an eyebrow, wondering if there's some list with prices on it for every depraved sexual act.

  “It depends on how much a guy wants. What he wants to do. The more kinky the sex is, the more it pays.”

  “And what's the most you can make in a night?” My curiosity is piqued. I know nothing about this world. The idea that men would pay exorbitant amounts of money for something I can get for free just blows my mind.

  “Two grand, but that's only if you're still a virgin, which I'm not.” She gives me a sarcastic smile. I can't tell if it's because she doesn't want to talk about it anymore, or because she's playing off the fact that we just had sex. And I damn sure know she wasn't a virgin before that. No virgin can do the things that she did with her body.

  “Two grand,” I mouth the words. Two grand in one night. That's insane. “You girls are going to be moving into a mansion before long.” I give her a gentle squeeze.

  “As soon as Delilah's lease is up here, we're going in on a house together,” Marcy says nonchalantly.

  “That's a wise investment.” It is, though I'm not too sure how I feel about them going in on it together. From what I can tell, they haven't known each other very long. What happens if they get into a fight and one of them wants the other to leave? That's one of many things that could go wrong. It seems like a recipe for disaster. I'm sure I'll have time to talk to Delilah before that happens.

  I think about asking her why she became a call girl, but the answer seems obvious. With that kind of money put in front of you, who wouldn't? Like Delilah said, it's the easiest way for a woman to get ahead if she has nothing else going for her but looks. And people like us, born to poverty, desperately want to get ahead. I can only imagine that Marcy has a similar story.

  “Nobody ever really wants this, you know,” she says softly, as if reading my mind.

  “I know.” I rub her back.

  “My parents died when I was young. I grew up in the foster-care system. When you turn eighteen, they toss you out on the street with nothing but the clothes on your back. You do what you have to do to get by.”

  I listen to her in silence. Everyone has a story, and around here, they're usually depressing. Part of me feels sorry for her, but another part of me knows she probably doesn't want that. This is a story of triumph, not of failure. Of overcoming the shitty odds thrown at you despite the way the world keeps trying to push you down.

  “I met Edward at a club one night after work,” she continues. “It had been a long day. At the time, I was working as a waitress, and I was on my last legs before getting fired. I wasn't making any money and was on the verge of having to move into a cardboard box. I didn't have a car. I didn't have any furniture. All I had was the roof over my head. And it was an everyday struggle to keep that in place. Sometimes, I didn't even have electricity. Just four walls and a roof.

  “Edward was my knight in shining armor. He was charming and handsome. At first, I thought he was just some nice guy who liked me. But then when I confessed my situation to him, he told me what he was really about. He said he saw tons of potential in me, that being a part of his business could change my life. It did chang
e my life.” She smiles against my chest. “I make more money now than I ever have. I own a car, paid and clear. Yeah, it's a used car, but it's mine. I'd never had a car before this one. And now I'm saving up for a house. It's like a dream come true.”

  “Sounds like it.” I try to imagine the type of man who could manage so many girls. “Did you have to sleep with him to get started?”

  “Yes.” She nods. “All the girls have to sleep with him. The ones who aren't virgins, at least. He can get a freebie any time he wants. It's the benefits of owning the business.”

  “So this guy is your pimp?”

  “No. Not a pimp. Pimps keep a hundred percent of the money. He pays us. It's like a business partnership of sorts.” The pitch of her voice makes it sound like she actually believes that.

  “But he sets up the dates and screens the guys and whatnot?”

  “He has a booker who takes new clients. He just contacts us to tell us where to go.”

  “And how does he screen these clients that he takes on?”

  She shrugs. “I don't know. That's not a part of the business that I'm involved in.”

  “Then how do you know the guys are safe?”

  “Edward wouldn't send us to anyone he didn't think is safe. He asks them what they want. If they want things that are out of the ordinary, he charges more.” It's obvious that the conversation is making her increasingly uncomfortable.

  “And you girls don't have any form of protection on you?” I can't wrap my head around the idea of walking into a situation unguarded.

  “It's up to us, whether or not we make the clients wear condoms—”

  “That's not what I meant.” I scratch my side, suddenly worrying about every girl that this Edward guy has ever employed. From what I'm hearing, being a call girl is a potentially dangerous job.

  “What do you mean then?”

  “I meant that you're not required to carry a weapon on you in case something goes wrong?”

  “Oh.” She turns her gaze from mine, thinking. “No. Edward does suggest that we carry mace though.”

  “Mace,” I huff. Like that's going to stop a horny crazed lunatic.