Heather was a slut when we met. She wasn't the in-your-face, I wanna fuck everything I see and I don't care who knows it kind of slut. I would have called that a whore. She was a sweet innocent looking, shy, fun girl who responded to attention and would fuck your brains out.
I don't think we would have become friends if she had been an in-your-face slut. If we hadn't become friends, we wouldn't have ended up fucking for 4 years.
But, it wasn't long before I realized that even though I was an average looking man in his mid forties fucking a 20 year old slut that would do almost anything to please him, it wasn't enough.
At first, I didn't realize I was using her. She was the one who had gotten me into this lifestyle. She was 20 years old, and I was her 18th male sexual partner. But, I realized that she had never had anyone be really nice to her, and she was willing to do anything to keep me. I had been taking advantage of that, and felt horrible. At first.
We talked about stopping. I told her that I knew she had been mistreated in the past and I wasn't sure where her self respect was and I didn't want to do anything that was going to damage her further. She said that she knew what she was doing and liked it.
I could tell she was saying what she thought I wanted to hear. But, I wanted to be her knight in shining armor. So we stopped. Cold turkey. No other people, no porn, no stories.
I started to hint that I thought she was bored. In truth, I was bored. I had had a taste, and I liked it. There was nothing I wouldn't try and nothing I wouldn't want her to do.
She could tell, too.
So, she started pushing to start again. Constantly. I kept resisting, but it was only show. I knew I wanted it, but I wanted it on my terms. If she kept pushing for it, and she talked me into starting it up again, I would be in complete control.
Eventually it happened. We decided to play. It was a Friday night, and we were going to a bar that we had visited enough that we had become friends with the owner. I think maybe we became friends so fast because Heather was constantly flashing her tits at him.
She was going to let me dress her, but she felt a little too exposed, so we compromised. That means she wore what I wanted, a pair of tight jeans, her Black Victoria's Secret push up bra and a long sleeve, fish net top. To this outfit, she added her white, semi transparent camisole.
She looked like a television street hooker. I loved it.
We walked into the bar with very little fanfare. There was no turning of every head to follow her. There was no parting of the crowds to harken her arrival. It was just a dark, fairly crowded bar with a bad band playing 80's rock.
We went toward the back where we saw a couple of empty seats at the bar. Scott, the owner and the guy we had become friends with, was working as bartender that night.
He saw us and smiled. We had become semi regulars and he knew that he would get a show from her. He had a couple of beers poured by the time we got to our seats.
"So, what's up with you guy?" Scott asked.
Heather smiled at him and said "Just out to play."
"You are looking naughty."
"Maybe" she teased him.
"So, who's the band?" I asked.
He told me the name of the band that was playing and told me there would be two others. It was Friday and they would be open until 2am and pretty busy.
He went to take care of other customers and left Heather and me alone. I was looking around the bar and told her that she was the hottest girl there. Definitely the sluttiest. I wanted her to find someone to fuck. I didn't care if she fucked them there, fucked them in their car, fucked them in my car, took them home to fuck her, or got their number with a promise to fuck them later. She was a slut and I knew I wanted her to be a whore.
The kind of whore who will fuck because she wants to fuck. The kind of whore who doesn't care that women are talking behind her back, or maybe even to face. The kind of whore that men see and immediately know that she will fuck them with only the smallest pretense of foreplay.
It wasn't long before guys began talking to her. She was still shy in social situations, but her outfit started plenty of conversation. One guy in particular, a college aged guy who was about 6'2" and pretty attractive, wedge in beside her and ordered four beers. While he waited he looked to her and then to me. He said simply hi.
"Hey", I said.
"Nice outfit" he said to me as much as to Heather.
She looked at me with that 'what a creep this guy is' look. I wanted to get her past that initial distrust of everyone. She had gotten to the point where she was very outgoing with people that were a part of her circle, but was almost hostile to those that were not. It was up to me to make an opening.
"She won't be in it long" I replied. "She's drinking tequila."
"Really?" he asked as Scott showed up with his beers.
"Can I get three shots? Tequila." I said to Scott, who just smiled.
"Stick around for a shot," I said as I smiled. Heather did too, although hesitantly.
"Sure". He seemed confused and a bit wary but had been drinking long enough that his curiosity about the slutty girl was leading him.
Scott showed up with the shots, and set them out before us. I paid him, and he left to get change. Heather took the salt and put quickly put some on both the left and right shoulders at the base of her neck. She slid him his shot as I took mine. She handed him a lime wedge and picked up hers. As she picked up the shot glass, he had realized what she wanted. Really, it was what I wanted. She was putting it out there.
"Salut!" she said touching her glass to his and waving it in the air toward me, now standing behind her as she faced him. I began to lick the salt from one shoulder as she pulled him to the other. We licked and tossed down the shots.
As he started to put the lime wedge in his mouth, she took it in her fingers and put it to his lips. A gentle, seductive squeeze and a little bit of lime juice on his lips and she was kissing him. Kissing him slowly, eyes closed, and letting her tongue explore.
She finally pulled away and smiled.
