Kiki, the Town Slut Ch. 05

Amateur

Kiki, small, lithe, long-legged, with quick eyes, nice tits, and dirty-blond hair, had just walked into the room. A whiff of cigarette smoke followed her from her last smoke before walking into the house. Henderson did not like people smoking in his house.

“Oh, Kiki! How good of you to come. Here, I’ve made you a drink.” the silver-haired, dapper man held out a crystal glass to her, with a double of her favorite drink, a daiquiri, made strong for the night ahead. He was partial to Scotch, himself.

She was wearing a white sundress, cut low in the front so that her pale, veiny breasts were on display. The dress was almost transparent, so that when she stood in front of the French doors, with the light behind her, Doctor Henderson could see the shadow of her slender legs right through it. There were no bra straps or panty lines to mar the revealing lines of the dress.

The main reason he stayed instead of moving to the city was that he liked living in the quaint college town, with all the pliant and accessible young women around. These days, Henderson only taught at the College for the prestige. He didn’t need more money, his research was far behind him, he had lost interest in writing books, and he was really retired although he didn’t admit it. Henderson had made a lot of money as an economist specializing in complicated investment models, especially one that all the big banks and investment houses relied on. A few years ago, he quietly got out of the market before the big flaw in his most famous and heavily used econometric model became known. He was still talked about as a candidate for a powerful government job, such as Treasury Secretary, by those who did not know what happened. It would never have worked, anyway. If his libertine ways were revealed, far better not to be holding a responsible office in government at the time.

Kiki thanked him and perched herself unceremoniously facing him on the back of an unusually long leather sofa that was in the middle of the parlor, in front of the ornate fireplace. She liked that sofa — it was firm and comfortable, even with someone on top of her. Being in this room was like experiencing every cliché of the WASP-y 1920’s upper crust. But that was before Henderson had been born. Maybe Henderson had been raised by old parents who lived this way.

“You remembered our arrangement about parking?” asked Henderson, unnecessarily. Kiki always parked in back, in a spot hidden from the street by trees and a fence, out of sight of prying eyes, like neighbors and those pesky, juvenile student reporters from the College newspaper. Every few years they got the urge to do investigative reporting on prominent people who lived in the college town. That was a nuisance.

“Of course!” Kiki resented that he asked the question every time she came over. She did not like being treated like a bimbo. Doctor Henderson and his friends always talked down to her. She wasn’t dumb or ignorant. She might not have had had the grades or the pull to get in into the College — she didn’t even try because her family could not have afforded it, even if she had won a scholarship — but hardly anyone who grew up here ever went to the College, even though it was right in the middle of town. The College was for the rich kids from somewhere else, them and a few really bright students who were admitted on scholarship to keep up its ridiculously inflated reputation.

“How many people will I be having sex with tonight?” she asked without emotion, then sipped her daiquiri.

“Well, at least four, counting me. Maybe five, if Doctor Lipschitz brings a guest. You’ll be in the same bedroom as last time.” He paused for a moment. “We’ll start at the same time. They’ll come for drinks at 7:00 and you’ll wear what’s in the closet. You can have dinner with us but be upstairs by 9:00. We’ll eat at 8:00 and be done around 9:30 and then you will start receiving visitors.”

It might sound like he was acting like a jerk, condescending to give his permission for her to sit at the same table. Actually, she usually ate separate from the guests for a very good reason: the dinner conversation was terrible when she sat at the table. Everyone would be preoccupied with her body, looking for flashing titties, and imagining what they were going to do to her later that night. The men, and sometimes the women too, seated next to her would find it hard to keep their hands to themselves. So, after the first few dinner parties when this happened, she and Doctor Henderson mutually agreed that she would flash herself over cocktails to titillate the guests and then disappear until fucking time began. Tonight was a small dinner party and most of the guests had been there, and had had her, before. They would still be horny and she would still arouse them but what Doctor Henderson called “the arrangement” would not be so surprising or new to them. It would be more relaxed.

The old mansion had at least five bedrooms, four of which Kiki knew very well, having spent lots of time on her back in them, looking güvenilir bahis at their ceilings. The fifth (there may have been more on the top floor, but she never went there) was Doctor Henderson’s bedroom. He used it for sleeping and reading when he was alone but because kept it neat as a pin and because he liked it that way he preferred to fuck in another room. Or, another explanation could have been that maybe he didn’t like to make love in the same bed that he had shared with his ex-wife, because it brought back memories. Kiki didn’t think that was very likely. Most of the men she knew whose wives had left them loved to fuck in their former marital bed. In their mind it was a revenge thing, as if the mattress had a memory.

Henderson asked, “Did you give yourself an enema this afternoon?” Kiki nodded. She immediately guessed who one of the guests would be.

He stepped closer to her. “Did you shave, like I asked you to?”

Kiki smiled as only she could smile, with the corners of her lips curled tight. She didn’t say anything — she only lifted her dress up to her waist, revealing to his appreciative gaze her newly bare, smooth, puffy pussy, her skin all pale white and delectable. She lifted one leg over the back of the sofa and stood, her pussy lips parted by the stance and showing succulent pink.

“Beautiful,” he said, with a dry mouth.

She smiled and with her fingers pulled her labia apart, just to amuse him. Her cunt was bright pink on the inside.

“Exquisite!” he almost choked on his drink.

Kiki turned and went upstairs to a bedroom furnished in pink and red, with a massive four-poster oak bed and silk sheets, turned down, obviously waiting for her. There was a well-stocked bathroom attached and she took a long, leisurely bubble bath, soaking in the hot water, getting the kinks out of her muscles before her strenuous exertions tonight would put them back in. She then had an hour before the guests arrived so she took a short nap, nude of course, and when she woke up to the soft whirring alarm she got up and brushed her teeth and made her breath very, very fresh. She checked her email one last time before turning her cellphone off: nothing on tomorrow, so she could sleep in late again, an afternoon delight scheduled the following day. Then, about ten minutes before 7:00 she looked in the closet.

The flimsy white gown hanging in the closet was much nicer than the rude leather design she had worn last time. The dress was made of transparent material, cut low in the front all the way to her waist, barely covering her breasts, which were visible through the fabric anyway. Although it fell to just above her ankles, there was a slit in the back and another in the front that went all the way to her crotch. If she turned too fast, bent over, or sat down too quickly, her pussy would be on display. Not that there was anything wrong with that. The waist was cinched by a gold chain. She felt like she could be a fantasy, a goddess, or a harem girl. On the floor were white shoes with four-inch heels. That made her a fantasy, because a goddess would wear sandals and a harem girl would be barefoot.

The part she liked best, other than the sex, about what Henderson called their “stimulating evenings” was her flamboyant entrance, coming down the stairs precisely ten minutes after the guests were expected. Doctor Henderson prized punctuality and this was his way of creating an incentive for his guests to come on time.

Boy, did it work.

Ten eyes were riveted to Kiki as she floated down the elegant staircase, feet gliding underneath the diaphanous gown which billowed and flapped around her pale, white naked legs as she descended, separating at times to provide the briefest flashing glimpse of sweet bare pussy before closing again.

“Ah, my dear! How good of you to join us!” Doctor Henderson looked elegant in his tuxedo, the only person in formal dress. “I think you know Doctor Lipschitz and Reverend Ghislain.” In fact, they were two of Kiki’s favorites, not that she was ever given a choice or even an opportunity to show her preference. Lipschitz was in his early 60’s, Austrian, rather short, and a little formal with old fashioned manners. He wore a well-tailored suit and a silk tie and sported a nicely-trimmed goatee that ticked women’s twats quite charmingly. Ghislain was taller and although he wore a tie, he was dressed more casually than Lipschitz, with a knit tie and Pendleton over his shirt. Both of them nodded and smiled and got erections. Lipschitz’s growing package was quite impressive for an older man. Ghislain’s was harder to see because of his loose trousers but Kiki already knew exactly what he had. Even more, she knew exactly where it was going and that it would end up in a different place than the others.

“And I don’t believe that you have met our other guests,” he paused for a moment to get the name right, “Miss Aptos? Doctor Wistler?”

“Yes,” replied the young man, Doctor Wistler, a stranger to Kiki but a very attractive one. She got the distinct türkçe bahis impression that he was very happy to be there and included in the party. He was in his forties, only slightly taller than she was, olive-skinned with wavy black hair, and broad shoulders. She noticed that he had a very elegant style of dressing, with linen pants and a colored shirt with contrasting tie. The expression on his face was intense as he stared at her. She sensed that he was sexually hungry. He was looking at her as if she were a sexual meal. She was ready to be devoured. She averted her eyes from his in an effort to signal feminine submission to his desire and leaned forward slightly so that he could see more of her breasts and imagine them in his hands.

Miss Aptos, on the other hand, was a beautiful but severe-looking woman with straight blonde hair, set off beautifully by an elegant royal blue chiffon and satin one-shoulder cocktail dress. She had come as Doctor Lipschitz’ guest. Ms. Aptos, whose first name was Clarissa, was a banker, and guest lecturer in his course. She seemed like the kind of person who loves to deny loans to people who need them and to foreclose on people’s homes. She stared at Kiki throughout the cocktail hour, watching flashes of Kiki’s crotch with special interest. Unlike the reaction Kiki got from many women, she wasn’t obviously comparing herself to Kiki. Kiki did not know what to expect from her but knew it would be…..interesting.

Kiki stood gracefully, with a champagne glass in her hand, as the guests complimented her and engaged her in conversation, all the while openly admiring her body. She made no effort to cover herself and if she leaned over and exposed a breast, or took a step and revealed her shaved pussy, that was fine with her.

There were only two servants that night, plus the cook, because it was a small party and Henderson wanted to keep the number of servers down for greater privacy. In the past, the servants would look at Kiki with contempt as they circulated, while offering the guests drinks and taking glasses. Puta!, they were thinking, and there was always the concern that they would talk about what they saw. But Doctor Henderson had put a stop to that. He now picked servants who were in the country illegally. Then he paid them much more than they could ever make in the employ of someone else and he made them sign a confidentiality agreement. Any complaints, and he could get them deported but they had no incentive to complain.

Finally the bell rang and the guests entered the elegant dining room and sat down at the table. Doctor Henderson sat at one end and Kiki sat at the other, as if she was the lady of the house. The real reason, of course, was to give everyone a clear view of her lovely face and fetching chest but to keep her pussy out of reach, at least for the time being.

Everyone at the dinner party was an economist or had some economics training, even Reverend Ghislain. He was in the divinity school but taught church financial management and economics for non-profit organizations.

Kiki held her own in the conversation. At one point, the subject of the economics of prostitution came up. Everyone around the table was looking sideways at Kiki, with their eyebrows raised, of course, to see if the subject made her uncomfortable. Doctor Lipschitz was saying that the money men paid to a prostitute for sex was a rent, in the classical sense, where the asset is the woman’s body and payment is for the time spent occupying it.

Kiki vocally disagreed. She was quick to offer her personal economic analysis: “It all comes down to the business model. Prostitutes will do almost anybody, but not just anything. They are less discriminating the less the payment, because their value is based on demand for their own appeal and they get paid by piecework, for services rendered. But most whores won’t do everything — they mostly draw the line at anal, for example. If they do do it, they charge a lot more, so the fee is based on the service, not the time spent on it. Now party girls, who come in for a stag or an orgy could be considered to be on commission, I grant you that, Doctor Lipschitz. It may be a classical rent for them, by strict definition.” Lipschitz was not offended at her tone of voice, as much as he was not used to being lectured at rather than doing the lecturing. On the contrary, he was fascinated by Kiki’s learned analysis as she continued.

“Concubines, kept women and full-time mistresses, on the other hand, get paid the equivalent of a salary, involving some kind of regular support, in exchange for being exclusive. Men used to set their mistresses up with their own homes — now they mostly pay the rent on the girl’s apartment.”

Kiki paused to drink a sip of champagne. She was thinking of her mother and how she operated as the alderman’s mistress back in her Chicago days. She then turned to her own situation.

“Then there are girls who do not have a fixed rate and who accept whatever their lovers want to give them. A real slut does güvenilir bahis siteleri it for fun and if the men are generous, so much the better: it is a voluntary tax. That’s where girls like me fit in.”

The economists around the table stared at her for a long while in surprise, until Doctor Henderson broke the silence and mentioned that Kiki had gone to college, just not to their esteemed College.

That was true. She had taken the first two years of a business major at State, down the road in the city. Of course, State was just the big public university that everyone could afford. It didn’t count for much against the prestige and reputation of the College. State didn’t have enough dorm rooms for the number of students who wanted to live on campus, so students who did not get a place and couldn’t afford city rents were forced to commute. Kiki got tired of the long commute from her home town and dropped out of the degree program before she finished.

The dinner continued with the guests pursuing other lines of conversation but digesting what Kiki had said and, of course, lusting after her body.

When dinner was over, but before the after-dinner drinks were served, Kiki excused herself. As she turned to go out of the dining room, her gown separated in back, giving the guests a fine view of her tight, round buttocks as she walked away. Up in her room, she flossed, brushed her teeth, and gargled. She washed her anus with soap, to be sure it would be clean and smell fresh, and applied perfume lightly in her blonde hair, under her arms, and in the crease of her groin. She put a small tube of lubricant on the bedside table. There was a small bar set up in the bedroom and she poured herself some Scotch, the better to loosen up before her first visitor. Then, very very gingerly, she dabbed a finger wetted in Scotch right on her clitoris. Too much and it would burn but just enough stimulated her and started to rev her up for what was to come. She lay down on the bed, letting the gown part and expose her however it would. Then she waited. The door was open.

The first guest to come to her room was Doctor Wistler. That surprised Kiki. Henderson usually sent the new guests up first but Kiki had expected him to put Clarissa first, since he was old fashioned in giving courtesy to women.

Wistler greeted her and sat down on the side of the bed. He looked her up and down, dwelling on her exposed right breast. Kiki knew then that underneath his buff and masculine exterior he was shy – he did not know where to start.

“You seem young for this crowd,” she observed dryly, to break the ice.

Wistler laughed. “I am an associate professor,” he said, as if academic rank were more indicative of true age than years lived, and indeed that accurately reflected the culture of the College. “But I have tenure now!”

Kiki smirked, knowingly. She knew that Henderson only invited colleagues to join his libertine parties once they were tenured: faculty who had been denied tenure were too angry and were apt to get revenge in their bitterness by spilling the beans.

Wistler continued. “But are you old enough for what I am about to do to you?” This was flattering! Kiki’s pale, smooth skin, her ripe, firm breasts, line-free face and tidy figure had fooled many men into thinking she was barely 20.

Kiki lay back on the pillow and raised both arms in a gesture of submission which also thrust out her lovely tits. “I suggest you get started, before I grow older!” Wistler was taking too long. There were four other people that Kiki would have to service tonight and besides, she was feeling especially horny tonight.

This unexpected reply jolted Wistler into action! He quickly took off his clothes and Kiki saw that he was in good shape — The man obviously worked out! He stood there very fit, well hung, and with a fine, low-hanging ballsack. He jumped onto the bed and kissed her full on the mouth while his hand cupped her exposed breast. Kiki relaxed, smiling — this was where she stopped trying to control the situation and just let things happen! Wistler’s cock and balls were rubbing on her thighs now, through the front slit of the flimsy dress. After he had had his fill of her mouth, he reared back and pulled the flimsy dress off of her. He hadn’t been much for foreplay so far, but she knew she was going to like where this was going!

“Doctor Wistler,” she asked breathlessly, “do you like the nipple on my breast?” Wistler nodded. “Then why aren’t you sucking it?”

Wistler grinned widely and leaned over to flick her nipples with his tongue, making them erect and hard, all the while climbing on top of her, penis and heavy scrotum dragging along the inside of her pale, smooth thighs. She was gasping now, hands on his shoulders, when he positioned himself just right to mount her, reached down to put his cock right at her entrance, and thrust home! Kiki grunted and moaned at the wonderful feeling of being impaled with his eager, young rod, which filled her expansible and well-exercised vagina very nicely. She lifted her legs and wrapped them around his back as he thrust in and out, pistoning her mightily, pounding her tight but wet and welcoming channel, filling her pelvis with fluttery sensations and mounting tension!

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