


American Dream

by slyc_willie



Category: Erotic Couplings
Published: 2006-10-11
Updated: 2006-10-11
Packaged: 2017-05-01 13:20:48
Chapters: 1
Publisher: literotica.com
Story URL: https://www.literotica.com/s/american-dream-1
Author URL:
https://www.literotica.com/stories/memberpage.php?uid=748325&page=submissions
Summary: A streetwalker's life has a happy ending.
Erotica Tags: Cock Sucker, First Time, Gabi The Streetwalker, Love, Oral,
Prostitute, Swallow, Virgin
Average Rating: 4.73






        American Dream


_(Author's note: This is one of those stories that pretty much wrote itself. I
began with a basic premise, a fantasy, but as the characters developed, it
turned into something more. Admittedly, it has a bit of a Deus ex Machina
ending, but I hope you enjoy it.)_  
  
***  
  
_"Prostitutes are like a box of chocolates. You never know what you're gonna
get."_  
  
Okay, so maybe that's paraphrasing Forrest Gump a little. But the adage works
just as well.  
  
By the age of thirty-five, I had pretty much given up on relationships.
Engaged four times, and not one of them had worked out. I was out a good ten
grand, all told, on engagement rings. Not that I was particularly
materialistic, mind you; I mention the fiscal fact merely as an interesting
sidenote.  
  
Following my last breakup, I moved to a new city in the Southwest, taking a
teaching position at a research one institute while earning my PhD in
Anthropology. I wasn't being paid much, but I did not have to worry about
tuition, and student loans gave me an extra three grand a semester to cover my
bills and incidental costs. I rented a small apartment not far from campus, a
cheap, one-bedroom efficiency. It wasn't much, barely enough room for me, but
I did not seriously entertain the idea of bringing anyone over.  
  
Truthfully, I was pretty disgusted with the whole prospect of relationships. I
had tried and tried again, and was still nowhere. I remember thinking back to
when I was seventeen and just starting college. I had dreams that, by the age
of twenty-five, I would be well into a career in advertising, with a
wonderful, loving, and sexually kinky wife, a kid or two . . . .  
  
Now I was ten years past that mark, still single, no kids, making a grand a
month while still in school. Advertising had lost its appeal; I was more
interested in people. Not that I regretted my life or the choices I had made;
I had spent years living in Europe and South America; I spoke half a dozen
languages, seen sights and been places most people only read about in text
books. I'd had an intellectually rich and adventurous life.  
  
But as regards the Great American Dream . . . I was sorely lacking.  
  
Anyway, this is an erotic story, and not a diatribe about my life. So let's
get on with it.  
  
My first experience with a prostitute had occurred while I was still with my
fourth fiancé, Kim. She had been a busty, compact little redhead who had some
intimacy issues, and while I had been willing to give her patience and time to
crawl out of her shell, after a few years, I was getting pretty frustrated
with having sex only once or twice a month.  
  
One night, heading home from work (I had been a bartender at the time, while
Kim, a few years younger, was getting her master's), I stopped at a light near
the edge of downtown. I wasn't really paying much attention to my
surroundings, but I had enough wit about me to notice a slim little brunette,
wearing red stretch pants and a dark pink top, standing in the shadows of a
closed-down store.  
  
And she was looking right at me.  
  
I guess I stared a little too long. She must have thought I had given her an
invitation. Hell, maybe I had. She was skinny and lithe, her skin heavily
freckled, the opposite of my cherubic, big-breasted, pale-skinned fiancé.
Perhaps my subconscious found the contrast stimulating.  
  
Next thing I knew, she was stepping out of the shadows, walking up to my car,
and opening the passenger door. She got in, closed the door just as the light
turned green. There was a strong, spicy aroma about her, some cheap but
enticing perfume I had smelled often enough on undergraduate girls when I was
in school.  
  
She told me her name – I can't remember it now – and asked if I was a cop.
When I said I wasn't, she slid her hand to my lap and groped me. _Boing_! It
surprised me how hard I got, and how quickly. I had no illusions that this
girl was anything other than a prostitute, and that, for the right price, she
would do anything I wanted. And that fact seriously got my blood running.  
  
She pulled down her top, invited me to touch her little tits to further prove
I was not a cop. I remember that her nipples were really thick and stiff.
Satisfied that she was not in danger of being arrested, she got down to
business. She asked me what I liked.  
  
"Well, I like getting my cock sucked," I said as I followed the girl's
directions through a twisting maze of a low-income residential area. I saw no
reason not to be direct with my words.  
  
"I bet," she said, giving me a look and licking her lips.  
  
"And I like eating pussy," I added.  
  
Her eyes flashed. They were dark, maybe brown or a dark blue, I could not tell
in the dim light. "Yeah?"  
  
I smiled back. "Yeah."  
  
She thought a moment. "Forty bucks," she said. "Is that cool? You do me, I do
you."  
  
I was feeling excited, aroused. This was _guaranteed _sex, I realized. No
dinner, flowers, a movie, or little gifts. I didn't have to _try _to get her
into bed. Just shell out a couple Jacksons, and she was my sexual plaything.
Now I understood the appeal of prostitution.  
  
I agreed, and we found a little place to park behind a low-rent apartment
building. I gave the girl the money, and she immediately lifted her hips and
shoved her stretch pants down to her ankles. She had a shaved pussy, I
remember, a little dark stubble, but it was not unpleasant. She lifted her
legs, let me get between them, and sighed and moaned as I ate her out. She
tasted fairly sweet, a little too tangy and bitter; I figured she might have
gotten fucked a couple times before I picked her up.  
  
I wasn't sure if she really came or not, but after about ten or fifteen
minutes, she pushed my head back and we switched positions. She pulled out my
dick and started bobbing on it. She really wasn't all that good a cocksucker,
but the eroticism of the situation – paying a hot little thing to suck my dick
in my car in a public environment – soon had my balls boiling and pulling up.
I jacked off into her mouth, and she dutifully sucked out every drop of semen
I had to give. I reveled in the relatively novel sensation. Not even Kim let
me ejaculate in her mouth.  
  
The streetwalker turned to the passenger window, rolled it down, and spat out
my cum. I heard it splatter wetly on the ground as I recovered. I remember
seeing a little drop of sperm on her chin, and didn't tell her about it. She
gave me a few minutes to recover, and we smoked casually before I started the
car and took her back. She gave me a little kiss on the cheek and promised she
would be at the same corner the following night.  
  
I never saw her again, of course.  
  
But I did see a cute little thing about two weeks later, smoking a cigarette
in front of her motel room door. She was talking to some guy on a bicycle, who
gave me a dirty look. I circled the block, came back. The bicycle dude was
gone and the cutie eagerly hopped in my car. She told me she had two kids she
had to feed and that was why she was a hooker. She barely looked old enough to
have kids, but she assured me she was nineteen.  
  
She let me lick and finger her – she tasted a lot sweeter and more fresh than
the first girl – and sucked my dick with gusto. But she warned me not to
unload in her mouth, or else she would throw up. She did, however, let me cum
all over her face, and it was kind of hot to watch her wipe up my sperm with
her fingers and flick it out the window.  
  
I never saw her again, either.  
  
I started feeling guilty about my little escapades. I liked to think I was
devoted to my fiancé. For a while, I didn't even think about picking up a
streetwalker, even though I saw them every night on my way home.  
  
But after Kim hit me with the bombshell 'I think we should get separate
apartments for a while,' I knew the end was nigh. Kim and I tried to 'date'
for a few months, but it did not work out. Finally, I picked up a skinny
little dyed blonde named Michelle and fucked the hell out of her in the front
seat of my '69 Impala before unloading all over her little saggy tits. She
kissed and licked my dick clean, something none of the other hookers did, and
gave me her phone number.  
  
And of course, I never saw her again. The number was to a Pizza Hut.  
  
***  
  
So, there I was, in a new town, starting over, and focusing on my life rather
than pleasing someone else. Between my studies, the classes I taught, and
other work I did for the university, I spent more than half my day in
servitude to academia. I didn't have time for a woman even if I wanted to
start dating again.  
  
Still, a man's libido is a difficult thing to ignore . . . .  
  
I discovered, quite by accident, that the same avenue upon which the
university lay was the man boulevard for streetwalkers. Most were to be found
about five miles to the east, but a few were bold enough to stalk the streets
close to the university. I saw them now and then whenever I left my office in
the Anthro building late at night, but I really didn't think anything of it.  
  
Then came the night I met Gabi.  
  
Some of the parking lots for the university lay really close to Central
Avenue, the dividing line between the northern and southern parts of the city,
and also the street along which hookers strutted their stuff. On one
particular day, I had been forced to take a parking spot close to the street,
which was a real pain in the ass. My first class was in a building a good five
minutes away.  
  
Following the classes I taught, and those I took, and my own research, it was
almost midnight by the time I got out. Crickets and cicadas chirped and
rattled noisily in the grass and trees as I headed to my car. Just as I
reached it, I spied a slender form standing on the sidewalk. She had pale
skin, dark hair slicked and tied back, and a round, sexy, Hispanic-featured
face. She wore a tight, dark blue sweat suit top with a zipper down the front
and the tightest, tiniest of shorts that let half her firm little ass cheeks
hang out. Her little feet were encased in dirty white sneakers. She had nice
legs, I noticed.  
  
For a long moment, I stared at her over the hood of my car, admiring that
perfect, round little ass. She was obviously young, but as for how young, I
could not be sure.  
  
"Hey!" I called.  
  
She stiffened, looked around, then turned my way as I called to her again. Her
face was shrouded in shadow, yet I could still make out wide, round eyes made
bold by dark eye liner. She had a narrow mouth and a round button nose.  
  
"Need a ride?" I asked, hoping she was what I thought she was.  
  
The girl hesitated, looked around, then started up the short grassy slope
toward me. She stopped about ten feet away, hands in her little pockets. She
had tiny breasts, barely a handful, but her nipples were clearly stiff and
poking through her top.  
  
"Maybe," she said, shifting back and forth. "Where you going?"  
  
I smiled warmly. "Wherever you need to go."  
  
She looked down, then back toward the street as a few cars passed by. She
seemed nervous, scared, apprehensive. Her eyes finally drifted back to mine.
"I need someplace to stay the night," she said.  
  
I took a step toward her, feeling a strange mixture of arousal and sympathy. I
stopped as the girl tensed, ready to flee at a moment's notice. I raised my
hands, showing her my empty palms. "Are you in trouble?" I asked.  
  
She shook her head. Damn, was she a beauty. She looked so innocent and sweet,
but at the same time impish and slutty. "I just don't wanna go home right
now," she said, then sighed. "Look. You wanna do something with me, fine. But
just let me stay the night. I won't steal nothing. I'm not like that. We can
just . . . make a trade, you know?"  
  
My libido drained away. Maybe this girl – and I was sure she was a teenager –
was a streetwalker, but she was still a human being, still a woman. I gave her
an encouraging smile. "Come on," I said. "I won't try anything. You can stay
with me, but . . . I don't have a whole lot of room, so . . . we'll be in the
same bed. But I won't try anything."  
  
The girl thought a moment, assessing me. Finally, she nodded to herself, and
stepped closer. She held out a slender-fingered hand. Closer now, she was even
more attractive. No lipstick, and just the eyeliner, but damn did she have a
sexy, cute young face and a tight little body . . . .  
  
"I'm Gabi," she said.  
  
I smiled back, shook her hand. "Devon," I responded. I led her around the car,
opened the door for her. She gave me a little smile as she slid in the seat.  
  
"You always do that?"  
  
"Do what?" I asked her.  
  
"Open doors for girls."  
  
I chuckled softly. "Yeah, I do. Guess I'm just old-fashioned."  
  
She smiled more genuinely, showing little white teeth. "I like that."  
  
***  
  
We did not talk much on the ride to my apartment. Gabi fidgeted a little,
looking down at her feet, and picked her nails. She gave me apprehensive
smiles and looks, especially when I parked the car before my apartment and
turned off the engine.  
  
She followed me up the walk, skittishly looked around when I opened the door.
She had a little smile on her face as she observed my minimalist decorations.
My apartment was essentially one large room, eighteen feet by twenty-two, with
the bathroom closed off. I had a futon for a bed, a love seat, and an
entertainment center with a twenty-seven-inch television. The kitchen amounted
to little more than a basic stove, a refrigerator, and a counter stuffed into
one corner.  
  
As I closed the door, I faced the girl – damn, she looked so young, she could
have been half my age, perhaps even younger – and gave her a serious look. "I
don't want any trouble," I said.  
  
Gabi stared at me, wide-eyed, anxious, nervous. I noticed for the first time
that her right nostril was pierced with a little stud. "I swear," she said. "I
just want a place to stay."  
  
I nodded. "Want a drink?"  
  
She smiled suddenly. "Depends," she said hopefully. "Is eighteen old enough to
drink in this place?"  
  
I chuckled, and felt a little relief. "Old enough for me," I said, and headed
to the fridge. I had a six-pack of high-potency beer chilling on the bottom
shelf. I pulled out two of them, popped the tops, handed her one. Gabi took it
with a little smile, then tilted her head bag and gulped deeply. She sighed,
licking her lips, then smiled sheepishly.  
  
"Thanks."  
  
I laughed softly, then gestured around my apartment. "TV, microwave . . . I
have a few things in the fridge if you're hungry. But just one bed. And I
sleep in the nude."  
  
Her eyes dipped, and I thought she was glancing to my crotch. "Okay."  
  
"Need to use the bathroom? You can take a shower if you want."  
  
Gabi gave me a grateful look. "I'd really like that," she said.  
  
"Be my guest," I said, and gestured to the bathroom door.  
  
Gabi chugged from her beer again, gulping greedily. She set the beer on the
little counter of my breakfast nook, then headed to the bathroom. I watched
after her perfect ass as she closed the door.  
  
***  
  
The shower ran for a good half-hour. I sat before my TV, watching some lame
late-night programming. A good quarter-hour after the shower pipes stopped
whining, and Gabi was still in the bathroom. I was feeling pretty tired; it
was almost two in the morning at this point. The effects of the alcohol in my
system compelled me to seek slumber. I turned off the TV and the lights,
peeled off my clothes, crawled under the comforter.  
  
I barely heard the door open and close, the sound of small feet across the
floor. The futon shifted a little as she got into bed. Her warm, slender body
curled up against mine. Her arms slipped around my body. I shuddered slightly;
I could tell she was naked as well. Her small breasts sported very stiff
nipples that poked into my back.  
  
She began kissing my shoulder, down my arm. The feel of her warm, wet lips
roused my libido. I rolled onto my back, and she was there, leaning over me,
her soft lips parted and moist, her dark eyes glowing.  
  
Gabi slid her body atop mine. Her nude body was warm and inviting. The
insistent heat of her soft, down-covered pussy burned into my cock as she
straddled me. She kissed me deeply, yearningly, letting out soft moans of
passion.  
  
"Thank you," she whispered.  
  
"For what?" I asked back.  
  
"For being nice," she responded, and kissed her way down my body.  
  
I trembled at the feel of her warm lips and flickering tongue on my skin, my
nipples, and down my flat abdomen. The head of my cock, fully engorged and
hovering stiffly above my abdomen, bumped her chin. Gabi giggled, an
endearing, girlish sound.  
  
"Ooo . . . what's this?" she asked playfully. I groaned as I felt her hands
wrap around my shaft.  
  
"It's for you," I said, my eyes squeezed shut. I thrust my hips up, reveling
in the tight grip of her warm hands.  
  
"Oh, all for me? Oh, wow . . . mmmm . . . ." her moans became muffled as her
lips slipped around the head of my cock, sucking me in. I sighed in pleasure
as her tongue began massaging my prick. She steadily sucked more and more of
my dick into her mouth, her hands stroking up and down. I loved the sounds of
her smacking, slurping lips, her soft sighs and moans.  
  
I gripped the sheets, pushing up to her mouth, wanting to give this girl
everything. I lifted my head after a while, and trembled in passion at the
sight of her wet mouth sliding up and down my straining cock, the expression
of concentration on her young face. She emitted muffled 'mmm' sounds as she
devoured my cock. She seemed to enjoy sucking my dick almost as much as I
liked having it sucked.  
  
Her skill could not be denied. The wet suction, the massaging movement of her
firm tongue, the little eager moans she made . . . she brought on my orgasm in
less than ten minutes. "Oh, shit! Jesus!" I gasped, my body tensing.  
  
Gabi kept sucking, kept pumping and stroking, whimpering excitedly as my penis
throbbed between her lips. I all but screamed as my cock pulsed and jerked in
her mouth, unleashing a torrent of thick fluid that sluiced over her tongue.
Gabi made little grunting sounds as she sucked out my heavy flow, squeezing my
dick with her hands. I felt every little lick of her tongue, the insistent
pull of her lips. My orgasm seemed endless.  
  
I finally sagged back, totally drained. I panted, recovering, barely feeling
Gabi licking and kissing up and down my spent cock, mouthing my deflated
testicles. She sucked the head of my cock between her lips for a moment,
making me wince. My dick was still damn sensitive. Then she crawled up over me
and rest her body upon mine. I wrapped my arms around her narrow, tight body.  
  
"Devon?"  
  
"Yeah."  
  
"That was really nice. I like doing that."  
  
I chuckled, and kissed her sticky lips. The aroma of semen lingered on her
breath. I realized she had swallowed my cum, and that turned me on. "Well,
you're pretty good at it," I said, and stroked her narrow back, reaching down
to that perfect bubble butt and gently caressing her cheeks.  
  
She smiled, her dark eyes glittering in the darkness. "I've had a lot of
practice," she said. Her smile faded a little; the subject of her being a
prostitute, I figured, bothered her on at least some level.  
  
I kissed her again, thinking to myself, _how many dicks have graced these
lips? How many sets of balls have been emptied in her mouth? _Rather turn me
off, the thought excited me. I felt blessed at having enjoyed such a skilled
mouth. And for free, no less.  
  
"Well, I've had some practice, too," I said, and slid my hands further down,
between her cheeks, finding a moist, hair-lined pussy with butterfly-winged
lips.  
  
Gabi gave me an apprehensive look, even as she arched her back a little,
giving my fingers somewhat better access. She was very wet. The tip of my
finger easily penetrated her tight little tunnel. "Um . . . okay, but just
head, all right? I, uh . . . I don't have any condoms."  
  
I smiled, nudged her round little nose with mine. "I do."  
  
She swallowed nervously. "Please . . . just let me suck you again, if that's
okay."  

I smiled. "Why don't you turn around?" I suggested.  
  
Her brow furrowed. "What do you mean?"  
  
I chuckled. "You ever hear of a sixty-nine?"  
  
Her frown disappeared, replaced by a little smile. "Oh . . . yeah, sure. I
thought . . . I thought you meant something else."  
  
Gabi didn't give me a chance to ask her to clarify as she got up on all fours
and swung her lithe young body around me. I stared up at her heavenly ass,
noting the obvious virginity of her sphincter. Her pubic hair was soft, and in
the dim pale light streaming through my windows, I realized that her pubic
hair – only barely trimmed but naturally sparse to begin with – was actually a
light brown in color, rather than the jet-black tone of the hair on her head.  
  
The girl had very pink labia, and as I said, her lips flared out like
butterfly wings that overlapped her slightly puffy vulvae. Her clitoris was
thick and round, about the size of a peanut. Gabi tensed as I touched her lips
with my fingers, prying open her moist pink. Then she hissed with pleasure as
I began licking up and down her slit. The natural, tangy flavor of her, the
fresh smell of her young pussy mingled with soap, turned me on immensely. My
dick hardened quickly in her grasp.  
  
"Oh . . . ohhhh, god . . . that feels so good," she moaned. Her hand pumped up
and down my dick. I felt strands of damp hair hanging down from her head,
gracing my cock as she stroked it.  
  
"Yes, it does," I agreed, kissing and licking and sucking her dewy lips. I
couldn't remember tasting a pussy as fine and sweet as little Gabi's. I wanted
to eat her all night.  
  
She let out a little yelp as I slipped my tongue inside her tunnel, finding
her spicy and hot. She seemed pretty tight for a prostitute. Maybe she was one
of those with a 'no fuck' policy. A lot of girls were like that, wanting to
minimize the risk of getting an STD.  
  
Fine with me. I didn't mind not being inside her, especially with the way her
soft lips were once again caressing the head of my dick, her tongue swirling
around it. She kept masturbating me, whimpering with pleasure, her breath warm
and moist on my cock. Her body vibrated, especially when my tongue finally
found her clit. I lapped at it with firm passes of my tongue, making Gabi moan
around my dick. The muffled sounds were erotic and encouraging.  
  
I kept it up, sucking, licking, fingering her pussy. I eased one, then two
fingers inside her, slowly sliding them in and out. She was, indeed, very
tight, and I wondered about the unlikely possibility that she could be a
virgin. A virgin streetwalker?  
  
"Huhn! Huhn! Hhaahhhh . . . ."  
  
Gabi bucked and writhed atop me as she climaxed. Her clit stiffened, then
shrank, her tunnel tightened considerably around my fingers. I eased them out,
then latched onto her trickling hole and sucking greedily. Her cum was
uncommonly sweet. I licked deep inside her to get it all, and Gabi moaned in
approval all the while, grinding her sopping snatch against my chin.  
  
"Oh, Mary, Mother of God," she giggled, basking in her afterglow, cooing and
sighing as I ran my hands up and down her muscular back. I kissed and licked
her inner thighs, her flushed pussy. Gabi made no move to get off me.  
  
"I'm glad you liked that," I said, gently licking her fur-lined vulvae.  
  
"Oh, God, that was so good . . . so fucking good . . . mmmm . . . ." I let out
a small gasp as her mouth descended upon me once again, sucking hard and
yearningly. Her orgasm had refueled, inspired her, and she sucked me like an
animal, all but desperate to make me cum.  
  
I held out as long as I could, wanting to savor the sensation of her
incomparable mouth gliding like a warm wet sheath along my cock. But when she
eased my cock head into her throat, and bobbed up and down like that, my
resolve vanished. I arched my back and cried out in ecstasy, ejaculating right
down her throat. The rippling tightness of her esophagus was like a pussy as
it drained my cock.  
  
I panted into her pussy as I recovered. Gabi licked and tenderly sucked on my
penis as it softened, making little girlish giggling noises and moans of
satisfaction. Finally, she turned back around and curled up in my arms, her
back to me. She took my hands, cupped one of them over her right breast,
settled the other on her soft pubic mound. We both quickly fell asleep.  
  
***  
  
I have a strange internal clock that, for some reason, always gets me up at
6:58 in the morning. It doesn't matter how much I've had to drink, or what
I've done the night before – such as, for instance, enjoying incredible oral
sex with a teenaged prostitute – but I am always awake at two minutes before
seven.  
  
Gabi, I realized, was a hard sleeper. I tried to wake her, but she groaned and
murmured in her sleep. I chuckled, let her be, then got up. I drank some milk
from the fridge, popped a few vitamins. My usual breakfast. Then I headed into
the bathroom, started the shower, brushed my teeth before getting in under the
warm spray.  
  
I didn't hear the door open, or the curtain being pulled back. I stiffened a
little as I felt the cool air outside the shower. Then came a soft, feminine
giggle.  
  
I opened my eyes to see that Gabi had joined me. Jesus Christ, she looked even
better in the morning than she had the night before. Without the shadows and
darkness, I could see Gabi in all her glory; long, lean torso, very high-set
breasts with dark pink nipples, practically no areolas. Her hair was a little
longer than shoulder-length and naturally lustrous. For an Hispanic girl, she
was very pale-skinned.  
  
"Morning," she whispered, and gave me a little kiss as she grabbed the soap.  
  
I smiled. "Good morning."  
  
Gabi didn't say anything else. She had a cute little smile on her face, her
lips curled just a little at the corners. Her eyes were so wide and round and
dark, with a slight little slant to them. I wondered if she had some Asian
heritage. The soft, almost straight pubic hair on her mound certainly
suggested she did.  
  
We soaped each other up, our hands leaving no body part untouched. Gabi
sighed, leaning her back against my chest as I thoroughly washed her young
genitals. My penis was hard as a rock by the time her hands had massaged soap
into it.  
  
We rinsed off, and I turned off the shower. Just as I was about to step out,
however, Gabi eased down on her knees as if she had expected me to do so. I
certainly did not stop the girl as she once more took my cock in her mouth and
sucked hungrily. I held onto her damp head, loving the feel of it bobbing back
and forth as she serviced me.  
  
All too soon, I fed little Gabi her breakfast, which she gulped down with
enthusiasm. She tenderly sucked every little drop out of me, then got up and
gave me a little kiss.  
  
Half an hour later, we left my little apartment. Gabi had a somewhat forlorn
look on her face as I locked the door behind us. She looked up and down the
street. I lived just a few blocks south of Central Avenue. There were students
walking toward school, many of them giving us looks. Some, I was sure,
recognized me as a member of the faculty. I wondered if they could tell what
little Gabi was by her tiny shorts and snug-fitting sweatsuit top.  
  
"Can I drop you off somewhere?" I asked.  
  
"Um . . . no," she said, her eyes darting to mine for a moment before looking
away. "I know my way around."  
  
I nodded, took my hand out of my pocket. "Look, um . . . why don't you take
this?"  
  
Gabi looked down at the two twenties I offered her. She hesitated, then
nodded, and took the money. "Thanks, Devon," she whispered, then gave me a
quick kiss on the cheek. With no further hesitation, she started up the
street. She didn't look back.  
  
I thought about calling after her, to get her number, or at least suggest she
come back. But that would have been awkward. Like every prostitute I had
known, I figured I would never see Gabi again.  
  
***  
  
Beingan anthropologist, I naturally wondered about Gabi's life. What turned
such a pretty young woman into a cheap prostitute? I did not get the
impression she was a drug user. She had no track marks on her arms or thighs,
and her behavior certainly did not suggest she had any of the usual cravings
for crack or speed.  
  
So why give head for money? Kids? Nah, that seemed unlikely. She had very
narrow hips and no stretch marks, no scar from a C-section. So she had no
mouths to feed other than her own.  
  
My only conclusion was that Gabi came from a poor home, was probably a high-
school dropout, and had no good job prospects other than working at one of the
many fast-food joints in the area for six bucks an hour. Hmm . . . six dollars
an hour versus forty dollars for a blow job . . . Gabi could do five guys in a
night and make what she would in one week at Burger King. I didn't have to be
a fiscal genius to understand why Gabi did what she did.  
  
Being a Friday, I didn't have any of my classes to attend, just the two
classes I taught. Looking out at my students as I lectured on social mores and
patterns of behavior, I could almost see Gabi's face amongst them. Almost half
my class was composed of Hispanics and Chicanos. Gabi would have fit right in
. . . and at the same time, she would have been out of place.  
  
I spent the afternoon doing some on-line research in the office I shared with
four other graduate students. I was alone, the others -–years younger than I –
having started their weekend early. I envied their youth.  
  
Dr. Kandath, one of the tenured members of the department, came in to drop off
a couple books I had requested from his collection. Kandath was Indian, with a
noticeable accent and a very chauvinistic look on life. He held to Indian
tradition, and his wife, wed to him by arrangement, was a docile creature who
always wore the brightly-colored sarongs and bindis that were traditional to
their people. Kandath had a hard time taking any of the female grad students
seriously, but he liked me.  
  
"Hey, Candy," I said to him, using the nickname that he allowed only a few to
address him by. He gave me an expectant look.  
  
"You, uh . . . you prepared a thesis on prostitution, didn't you?"  
  
"Yes, I certainly did," he said in that lilting tone of his. "My second
master's thesis, in fact. You have an interest in such things?"  
  
I felt a little awkward. "Well . . . in a clinical way."  
  
He suddenly grinned, showing uncommonly white teeth. They were a stark
contrast to his dark skin. "The best way to study such phenomena is to
experience it first-hand," he said.  
  
I chuckled. "Where did you study?"  
  
"Brooklyn," he said, sounding almost proud. "The whores there were very
eager."  
  
His casual bluntness did not surprise me, or shock me as it did many of the
grads. I had gotten used to the way he spoke. No sugar-coating for Kandath.  
  
I thought over my words, picking diplomatic ones. "What, um, what did you find
as reasons for the girls doing what they did?"  
  
Kandath shrugged, crossing his arms and leaning against the edge of my
cubicle. "There were several," he said. "Drugs, desperation, a dominant male
partner or pimp who forced them into it. Very few were whores because they
enjoyed it. Why are you interested, Devon? Do you know a whore?"  
  
I considered lying, but figured Kandath, of all people, would not think less
of me for divulging the truth. "Yes," I said. "In fact, I do."  
  
He smiled. "Is she eager?"  
  
_Strange question_, I thought. "Actually, she was."  
  
He winked. "Then keep her around," he said. "But do not try to get too close.
You will scare her off."  
  
I chuckled. "I doubt I'll see her again," I said.  
  
"Oh? Why is that? Were you rough with her?"  
  
I frowned, shaking my head. "Just . . . it's just a hunch."  
  
Kandath mused quietly a moment. "In my country, whores are an accepted part of
life. They do things a wife will not. I certainly would not want my wife
performing oral sex on me. But such . . . delicious perversions are ingrained
in the male. That is what whores are for. They are necessary."  
  
I smiled wanly. Sometimes, Kandath's views bothered even me. "Well, I'm not
sure if I agree with everything you just said, but thanks for your input."  
  
Kandath grinned again. "My advice? Find your whore, take advantage of her.
Enjoy her. If you do not, she will find another."  
  
Kandath turned and left. I sat in my chair, thinking over Kandath's words.  
  
_He's wrong_, I thought. _Gabi isn't there for me to use her . . . not that
she's ever coming back, of course . . . ._  
  
***  
  
I didn't feel much like research after that, so I headed down to a popular
diner across the street from the university, treated myself to a half-pound
burger with cheese, grilled onions, and green chili. I went back for my car,
drove to a music store and picked out a couple of CDs I had been wanting. It
was a little after six when I got home.  
  
I watched TV for a while, then had an inspiration for my thesis and got on the
computer. Time flew, and before I knew it, the news was over and the Tonight
Show was coming on. I sighed, leaning back in my desk chair, stretching. I
cracked my neck, rolled my shoulders, switched off the monitor.  
  
Enough work for one night, I thought. I retrieved a bottle of Southern Comfort
from the cabinet under the kitchen sink, mixed it with some Diet Coke in a
glass.  
  
_Knock, knock_.  
  
I looked toward the door, wondering who it could be. Ten-thirty, on a Friday
night? Could it be her?  
  
I set down my glass on the little coffee table, answered the door.  
  
Gabi looked up at me, her eyes swollen and red from crying. She wore a frilly
white half-top, one of those that just covered her breasts and left her
shoulders bare, but included full sleeves that ended in bell-shaped cuffs.
Denim cutoffs and the same dirty white sneakers completed her outfit.  
  
My heart sank as I saw the bruise on her left cheek. "Gabi, what happened?"  
  
She sniffled, rubbed her little red nose. "Can I stay with you again?" she
asked, timid, afraid, desperate.  
  
"Come on," I said, stepping back and opening the door for her. She picked up a
well-worn denim bag and came inside. I closed the door, locked the deadbolt. I
came around, gingerly touched her shoulders, looked into her beautiful dark
eyes.  
  
"Do you want to tell me what happened?"  
  
She stared back, her jaw working a little, her lips twitching. "Can I have a
beer?"  
  
I sighed, and suddenly remembered Kandath's words: _don't get too close, or
you will scare her off. _"Sure," I said, and let go of her shoulders. I headed
to the fridge, grabbed one of the last two beers I had. When I turned back
around, Gabi had plunked herself down on my little loveseat. She took out a
pack of cigarettes and lit one up.  
  
"Rough night, huh?" I said as I set the beer down on the coffee table before
her.  
  
She shot me an intense glare, then immediately softened. "Yeah," she
confirmed, her voice barely a whisper.  
  
I sat down next to her, slipped my arm around her shoulders. She stiffened at
first, then slowly leaned against me, her tight, tense body starting to relax.
For many moments, we just sat like that. I could feel her trembling, then her
sighs. She curled her arms around me and hugged me close, crying softly. I did
not say anything, I just let her pour out her emotions.  
  
She finally pulled back, sniffling again. "After I left this morning, I . . .
I got something to eat, just hung out for a while. I, uh . . . got picked up,
and, um, well, you know . . . ."  
  
"Yeah, I know," I said.  
  
Gabi leaned out, picked up her beer, took a long, deep drink, swallowing
several times. Cold amber liquid trickled down her chin to her neck. She gave
me a sheepish look as she wiped her face. "God, you probably think I'm a lush
or something."  
  
I massaged her back, smiling. "I think you need a friend," I said.  
  
She smiled sweetly, and her eyes smoldered a little. "What I need is a shower.
Wanna join me?"  
  
Oh, how quick a man's libido takes control! Just like that, and suddenly, all
I wanted was to see her naked and feel that wonderful mouth again. Gabi gave
me a knowing smile and stood before me. her crotch was level with my face.
Slowly, deliberately, she unbuttoned and unzipped her shorts, then pushed them
down. Her pussy was inches from my face, fragrant with her natural aroma and
the smell of sweat. Her pink clit was stiff and swollen, jutting through the
soft brunette hair that surrounded it.  
  
"Come on," she whispered, and pulled me to my feet. Like an automaton, I
followed the sexy little teen into the bathroom. She gave me sexy little
smiles as she disrobed me. Once I was naked, she bent over and kissed the head
of my cock. I was half-erect, and quickly responded to her warm, soft lips.  
  
In the shower, Gabi took up the soap and rubbed it all over my body, from my
chest to my feet, building up a good lather. Then she pressed herself to me,
stiff nipples stabbing into my abdomen, one of her legs lifted and wrapped
around my hip. Her steamy, wet pussy rubbed against the top of my erection.  
  
She kissed me deeply, hungrily, moaning softly into my mouth. Her body moved
up and down, smearing the soap from my body into her skin. She used me like a
human washcloth. Once her breasts and belly were dripping with suds, she
turned around and rubbed her back against me. She lifted up, slipping my cock
between her legs, and reached down to press it against her young cunt. The
feeling was exquisite. With the soapy water making her inner thighs slick, I
was able to move back and forth, like I was fucking her. But the angle did not
allow my cock to penetrate her.  
  
Gabi rolled her body, her sighs becoming louder and more passionate. She
pushed the head of my dick against her clit, bucked back against me. She made
sexy little high-pitched noises, her body shaking. She gripped my thighs, lay
her head back against my shoulder. I cupped her firm tits, pinched and rolled
her nipples. Gabi cried out as she came. I felt the flood of her juices on my
prick.  
  
She stayed like that for a while, and I held her close, feeling strangely more
intimate with her than I thought I should have. After a minute, she eased
forward, then turned around and dropped to a squat. She grabbed my cock and
started jerking on it, squeezing it tightly. Her pink tongue stretched out,
flicking the tip of my oozing dick, lapping up pre-cum.  
  
I braced my hands against the shower wall as Gabi masturbated me furiously,
occasionally taking the head of my cock in her mouth. She winced when she did
that, and I assumed the bruise on her pretty face was causing discomfort
whenever she opened her mouth too wide. I told myself that if I ever found the
asshole who hit her, I would give him ten times as many bruises.  
  
"Oh, Gabi . . . Gabi!" I moaned, feeling my orgasm build.  
  
"Come on, baby, cum on me! Do it on me!" she said in a heated voice, stroking,
pulling, jacking me. She parted her lips, brushing them against the head of my
dick . . . .  
  
I groaned with release, thick spurts of semen gushing out, splashing on her
lips and chin, streaking across her cheeks. Gabi smiled, giggled as my cum
jetted onto her face. A couple of shots streaked across her nose and forehead,
into her hair. Gabi sighed, then rubbed my oozing cock all around her mouth,
licking up traces of semen here and there.  
  
Her eyes glowed up at me as she kissed my cock with sperm-glazed lips. "I like
you, Devon," she whispered.  
  
I petted her wet hair. "I like you, too," I said.  
  
***  
  
Gabi seemed pretty comfortable with her nudity, and as she sat naked on the
love seat, drinking her beer and smoking, I thought how casually sexy she was.
No makeup, hair wet and sticking to her back, beads of water dripping down
over her pert breasts . . . not even the bruise on her face could mar her
simple beauty.  
  
I sat down beside her, half-turned on the couch to face her. I didn't bother
with clothes, either. "What happened, Gabi?"  
  
She looked away from the TV, her eyes studying mine. She drew off her
cigarette, ground it out, then sat up straight. She cradled the beer in her
lap, resting to cool metal can against her pussy.  

"It just happens, sometimes," she said. She shrugged casually. "You know,
sometimes a guy gets rough, or he doesn't want to pay . . . least I've never
gotten cut, or shot. I Know this one girl, after she did a guy and his friend,
they stabbed her in the stomach and took her money. She was in the hospital
for, like, a week."  
  
"I'd hate for something like that to happen to you," I said earnestly.  
  
She took a deep breath, let it out while watching the TV. She sipped her beer.
"You're nice to me, Devon," she said, then gave me a little smile. "That's why
I came back. You don't make me feel . . . you know."  
  
I nodded. "Hey, a beautiful young woman wants to spend time with an old guy
like me? I'm not gonna say no."  
  
Gabi laughed softly. "You're not old," she said. "What are you, like, twenty-
eight?"  
  
I pursed my lips. "More like thirty-five."  
  
She reared back, giving me an 'I don't believe you' look.  
  
I just laughed. "I'm serious. Wanna see my license?"  
  
Gabi laughed. "Well, for an old guy, you look pretty good."  
  
I lit a cigarette. "Clean living," I joked.  
  
Gabi watched me a moment, her eyes wandering over my body. She drained her
beer, set the empty can on the table. "Can I have another one?"  
  
"What, you wanna get drunk?" I asked.  
  
"Maybe a little, if that's okay. You doing anything tomorrow?"  
  
I shook my head. "Not really."  
  
She curled up against me, suddenly affectionate, and lowered her head to plant
an affectionate kiss on my cock. "Good," she said, easing up. "I wanna see how
many times an old guy like you can get it up."  
  
I watched her with interested and aroused eyes as Gabi swayed her tight little
butt to my refrigerator and helped herself to my last beer. She gave me a
wicked smile as she came back. She straddled my lap, lightly rubbing her pussy
against my slowly-growing erection.  
  
"I got an idea," she said. "Why don't we grab a couple of six-packs and order
a pizza, then . . . give each other lots and lots of head."  
  
I ran my hands up and down her back, watching her as she popped open the beer
and drank. "Just head?" I asked.  
  
"Just head. Is that okay? I like doing it."  
  
I smiled. How could I possibly refuse?  
  
***  
  
I awoke the following morning with a pair of serious hangovers. One was from
the beer, the other from the sex. Gabi lay next to me, deep in never-never
land. Her mouth and chin were flaky with dried semen. More was on her neck and
breasts. The pungent aroma of pussy lingered in my mouth.  
  
I was conscious of the fact that, while Gabi seemed to enjoy our antics, she
had used sex as a diversion to keep me from asking too much about her.
Whenever I would try to pry some information out of her about her life, where
she had been, how she got the bruise, or whatever, she would reach for my dick
and straddle my lap, and that would be it. She couldn't very well answer my
questions when her mouth was full, after all.  
  
I had finally given up, and figured Kandath's advice about not getting to
close was on the money. Gabi wanted the security of being with someone she
felt she could trust, and rewarded that feeling in the sweetest way possible.
I felt a strange sense of pride. After all, she charged other men for her
services. If she charged me for every orgasm she had thus far coaxed from me,
I would be out at least three hundred dollars.  
  
Even though it was Saturday, I was still up at 6:58, and there wasn't a damn
thing I could to go back to sleep. I got up, started some coffee, stumbled to
the bathroom. Gabi was still in dreamland, muttering in her sleep when I came
back after showering and brushing my teeth. She didn't wake up until I had
drunk a pot of coffee and the eleven a.m. news came on.  
  
"Devon?"  
  
I turned away from the TV, looking at Gabi as she sat up, touching her face.
She absently scratched away flakes of cum from her chin. Her eeys were wide,
round, still a little sleepy.  
  
"Good morning," I said.  
  
She smiled, crawled from the futon and over the back of the love seat, curling
up in my lap. She nuzzled her nose against my chest, wrapped her arms around
my neck. Her affection was a little surprising.  
  
"Mmm, you smell good, baby," she said. She kissed my chest.  
  
I chuckled. "You don't."  
  
She lifted her head, her face blank. Then she suddenly laughed. "I'll be right
back," she said, and got up. She grabbed her little denim bag and headed into
the shower, giving me a sexy look as she did so.  
  
I suddenly wondered if I had a girlfriend. And if so, would that be the
smartest move? This girl was half my age. What could we have in common? And
did I want a prostitute for a girlfriend?  
  
_Oh, snap out of it, Dev. Don't flatter yourself._  
  
***  
  
Still, all day long, Gabi and I were like a couple. We went to lunch, saw a
movie, did some window shopping at the mall. Gabi held my hand the whole time,
gave me little kisses now and then, and occasionally groped my crotch. She
modeled some lingerie for me at Victoria's Secret, and I bought her a pair of
see-through panties and a matching teddy after she promised she would wear
them for me that night.  
  
And she did. After turning down the lights once we got back to my place, she
danced for me, clad in her new lingerie, and rubbed herself all over me. After
slowly peeling off my clothes, she urged me to masturbate while she fingered
herself on my coffee table. And when I was ready to cum, she opened her mouth
wide and gave me the extra thrill of watching her firm little tongue become
slathered with semen. She swallowed it all with a smile and sucked my cock
until I was soft.  
  
We sixty-nined in bed until we were both satisfied, then fell asleep like
that, her little body rest atop mine, her mouth gently sucking me as she
drifted off.  
  
It seemed pretty obvious to me that Gabi was there to stay. I started thinking
about moving us into a large apartment.  
  
***  
  
In the shower the following morning, I made plans for the day. Head out to the
zoo or the park, I figured, make a day of it. Maybe Gabi would be into a
little outdoor sex. The zoo had lots of little hidden benches and nooks we
could sneak into.  
  
But when I came out of the bathroom, intending to surprise Gabi by licking her
awake, I found that she had left. Her clothes, her new lingerie, her bag, it
was all gone. I felt a little anxiety, checked my pants for my wallet. But it
was there, as well as all my money.  
  
_Okay, maybe she had to go out for a while,_ I thought.  
  
I stayed in, getting a little work done on my thesis, but I was having a hard
time concentrating. I could still taste her, smell her, hear the echoes of her
sighs and moans. Everything in my little apartment reminded me of her.  
  
By six o'clock, I began to realize she was not coming back. By ten, I started
worrying. Finally, around midnight, I got in my car and started driving.  
  
I drove up and down Central, looking for Gabi. A few times, I thought I saw
her, but in the shadows, one slender body looked like another. Girls looked me
over, sometimes with interest, other times with resignation and disdain. Any
one of them would have gotten in my car, I knew. But none of them were Gabi.  
  
I thought about stopping some of the girls to see if they knew her, of where
she could be found. But that might have caused some problems, or roused the
interest of the police.  
  
By two in the morning, I gave up and headed back home.  
  
I didn't get any sleep.  
  
***  
  
"Perhaps she got a better offer," suggested Kandath after I gave him a recount
of the weekend. We were in his office, the door closed. I didn't want anyone
to know I was infatuated with a teenaged prostitute.  
  
"What do you mean?" I asked him.  
  
Kandath scratched his chin. "A girl with few prospects like that, she was
obviously searching for someone to take her in."  
  
"But that's what I did," I said, frowning. "I took her in."  
  
"Well, perhaps you did, and perhaps you did not. And perhaps she found someone
with more money who did the same."  
  
I frowned. Leave it to Kandath to burst my bubble. Why did I even talk to that
jerk about it, anyway?  
  
***  
  
Over the following weeks, as the end of the spring semester loomed closer, I
gradually put Gabi out of my mind. I could never forget the incredible sex,
her exuberance, her eagerness, but I told myself I would just have to be happy
with the memories. Gabi wasn't coming back. Period.  
  
"Hi, Devon."  
  
I was startled by the sound of her voice as I sat at an outdoor table before a
little bistro on the edge of the campus. I was doing some grading, musing to
myself how some of these stupid kids ever got accepted into college in the
first place.  
  
The last thing I expected was to see Gabi again. Yet there she was, in a loose
yellow skirt and a white tank top, and those same little white sneakers. She
had cleaned them up a little.  
  
For a long moment, I just stared at her. I wasn't sure if I should be mad at
her for her abrupt departure, or relieved to see her again. Nor was I sure if
I should be aroused or not.  
  
"Can we talk?" she asked at last, looking nervous.  
  
I took a breath. "Sure."  
  
Gabi looked around, noting all the people at other tables, those passing by on
the street. I noticed as well, especially the way some of the guys around us
were ogling Gabi's tight little body. I wondered if any of them knew her the
same way I did.  
  
"Um . . . can we go somewhere else?" she asked timidly.  
  
I thought a moment, then nodded. "Sure. But not my place."  
  
She blinked, cast her eyes down. She seemed a little hurt that I did not want
to take her home. But she nodded nonetheless. "Okay."  
  
***  
  
Gabi was silent throughout the entire drive. She barely even looked at me,
except to give me a strange, reluctant smile now and then as I drove. I
stopped for a couple of sodas and a six-pack, bought a pack of cigarettes,
then drove to a little spot just outside the city, on a bluff overlooking the
flat plains of the High Desert. It was a breezy, warm day.  
  
Gabi and I found a couple of large rocks to sit on, and cracked open the beer.
I lit her cigarette, then lit my own. I was patient as I waited for her to
begin.  
  
"You know, that first night I met you, I felt like I could tell you anything,"
she said, breaking the silence.  
  
I looked to her, saw the way the late afternoon sun glowed on her face. The
bruise was pretty much gone, with just a tiny welt on her cheekbone remaining.
"Why didn't you?"  
  
She shrugged. "I don't know," she said. "I didn't think . . . I mean, you
picked me up, remember? You wanted to get laid, not hear my sob story."  
  
"Maybe I wanted both."  
  
She turned her face toward me. "Yeah, I get that about you. I saw all those
books you got. Are you a teacher, I mean, a professor?"  
  
I nodded. "I'm working on my PhD, but I teach a couple classes."  
  
She nodded. "Cool."  
  
"What's going on, Gabi?"  
  
She shuddered with a deep breath. "I grew up on that street," she said. "I've
almost never left Central, never been out of the city. My whole fucking life
has been that street. It's funny. You go to where I live, and you get gangs
and drugs and hookers and skanks . . . but you go right down the street and
there's the college, and all the clean people, and –"  
  
I chuckled. "I wouldn't say they're all clean."  
  
Gabi managed a smile. "I always liked hanging around there. I'd talk to some
of the students, learn some things. This one guy, he met me every day after
his last class and we'd sit on the grass, just talking. 'Course, we didn't
just talk. Had to pay for my lessons, you know."  
  
I smiled, knowing what she meant.  
  
"I dropped out of high school in tenth grade," she said. "My mom . . . she was
pretty sick, and we owed a lot of back rent. She couldn't work that much, and
it was just me and her. So, soon as I could, I started working. It wasn't
much, but . . . at least we had a place to live. I don't hate her 'cause she
got sick, but . . . sometimes I just wish she could have waited until I
graduated."  
  
"You can get a GED," I said. "I, uh . . . I could help you study for it."  
  
Gabi smiled warmly, her eyes betraying emotion. "Thanks," she whispered. She
looked down, regarding her beer, then took a healthy swig. "I wish it was that
simple."  
  
"Why isn't it?" I asked.  
  
Gabi looked to me, saying nothing, even though her eyes told me she really
wanted to come out with it . . . whatever it was.  
  
I scooted a little closer, and touched her shoulder. "Gabi, look. If you want
me to help you, I will. But you have to let me in. Tell me what's going on. It
might not be as bad as you think it is."  
  
Her nostrils flared, and her eyes watered. She struggled to hold back the
tears. "My . . . mom . . ." her voice cracked, her features contorted. "She,
um . . . she passed away when I was . . . when I was with you."  
  
My heart sank. Guilt flooded through me. Gabi broke down, started sobbing
uncontrollably. I pulled her against me, held her as she cried for many long
moments. It was all, finally, starting to make sense.  
  
She stopped crying, rather abruptly, and pulled up her shirt to wipe her face.
Despite the circumstances of the moment, I found it strange erotic that Gabi
so casually exposed her breasts. Not that there was anyone around but me to
see her.  
  
"I knew it was coming. We both did. Still . . . it's just so—"  
  
"'We?'" I asked.  
  
Her eyes bore into mine. "Rico," she said. "My . . . step-father," she added
with more than a little disdain in her voice.  
  
I took a chance and followed my intuition. "He's the one who hit you."  
  
Self-consciously, Gabi touched her cheek. She didn't have to say anything to
confirm the truth. The look on her face was enough.  
  
"He said we weren't paying the money back fast enough," she said. "So, I . . .
he told me if I worked for him, I could pay it off quicker, and . . . he'd let
me go. Except . . . now it's all paid off and he won't let me go."  
  
"Why don't you just leave? You can come stay with me."  
  
Gabi smiled sweetly, touched my face. "You're sweet, Devon, but . . . I really
want to be alone sometimes. I need my own place, where no one knows me."  
  
I nodded. "I can help you with that. I know a lot of students. Many of them
are looking for room mates, especially now—"  
  
"I can get a place," she said, interrupting me. "That's not the problem. I
just need the money, and since Rico takes half of what I bring home—"  
  
"How much?"  
  
Gabi sighed. "Devon, I didn't come for your money."  
  
"How much?"  
  
She huffed. "It's not even about that. Even if I get away from Rico, he still
has Letty."  
  
I frowned. "Who's Letty?"  
  
"My sister," she said. "She was living with her dad – we don't have the same
fathers – but Rico found her anyway. He got Freddie – Letty's dad, he's a real
asshole – to give her to him. He wants her to work for him, too, like I am. So
it's not just about me."  
  
I gave Gabi a serious look. "What would it take to get you and Letty away from
Rico?" I asked.  
  
Gabi winced. "Devon, I didn't want to bring you any trouble. Don't get
involved, okay? I just wanted to talk, and get it out . . . I just wanted a
friend, that's all."  
  
I pulled her close, kissed her temple. "I am your friend, Gabi," I said. "And
I am going to help you, one way or the other. So why not just tell me what it
will take, and we'll see what happens."  
  
Gabi cried a little bit, tears brought out by grief for her departed mother,
her trapped sister, her gratitude for me. Eventually, I got it all out of her.
Rico was a slum lord, who lived in a house not far off of Central, and that
was where he kept Letty, wearing her down until she agreed to prostitute for
him. Apparently, Rico was a pretty active pimp. Gabi told me he had six other
girls working for him.  
  
The basics were this: Gabi needed five hundred bucks to pay her deposit on an
apartment in a community where she knew she would be accepted, a place across
town and out of Rico's sphere of influence. And she needed to get Letty away
from Rico.  
  
"What's the apartment complex?" I asked her.  
  
"What?" asked Gabi as I stood and headed back to my Impala. "Why?"  
  
"Just tell me," I said, and reached into the glove compartment. I grabbed my
checkbook.  
  
"Um . . . it's called Sierra Ridge," she said.  
  
I nodded, scribbled on a check, handed it to Gabi. She took it, staring wide-
eyed at what she held. "Devon?" she asked, wonderingly.  
  
I tore out a slip of blank paper from the back of my checkbook, gave it to
Gabi along with the pen. "Now, I need Rico's address."  
  
"Devon, don't—"  
  
"Do it," I said, using my best authoritative voice.  
  
Gabi clammed up, and wrote on the slip of paper. I smiled upon her once she
gave it back to me.  
  
"It's going to be all right," I said, hoping I could back up my own words.  
  
Gabi looked grateful, emotional. "Devon . . . you didn't have to do this."  
  
I sat back down, took her hand. "I wanted to," I said. "Just let me take you
out once this is all over."  
  
Gabi laughed softly, a short, nervous sound. "You can take me out right now,"
she said, and touched my face. "Or, better yet . . . take me home."  
  
***  
  
I barely remember the drive back into town. Maybe Gabi and I talked, maybe we
didn't. I was conscious of little more than my desire to be with Gabi again,
and I was pretty sure she felt the same way.  
  
Once inside my apartment, our clothes seemed to vanish on their own, melting
away like a cotton T-shirt in a downpour. I lay Gabi on the futon, kissed and
licked along her narrow torso. She sighed, whimpered, moaned passionately as I
sucked her warm, sweet flesh, as I gently bit and caressed her nipples with my
lips and tongue.  
  
"Oh, Devon . . . Devon," she moaned.  
  
I made my way down her lithe body, placing little kisses here and there. The
aroma of her sex was intoxicating as my lips traveled southward. I noticed she
had trimmed a little more, sculpting her brunette pubes to a rectangle above
her pussy.  
  
Gabi bucked and moaned deeply as I pressed my mouth to her pussy, tasting her
once more. God, how I had missed her flavor! No woman could ever taste as
sweet as Gabi, I realized. Not to me, anyway.  
  
Gabi rolled her hips back, pulling her knees to her chest and spreading her
thighs wide. She lifted her head, staring down into my eyes as I ate her out.
Emboldened, I licked from her clit to her puckered little asshole, and Gabi
gasped, watching me as I rimmed her. I wish I could have captured the
incredible expressions on her face as she came. Never had I seen a sight more
beautiful.  
  
I drank all her fluid down, kept licking her until Gabi pulled on my head.
"Come up here, baby," she whispered.  
  
I crawled up over her, and Gabi wrapped her arms and legs around me, eagerly
meeting my lips, kissing me deeply. My hard cock pressed against her slipepry
folds, the head just barely pushing inside her.  
  
"Make love to me, Devon," she whispered between heated kisses. "Please. I want
you inside me."  
  
I grunted, almost giving in, but pulled back. "I've got some condoms in my—"  
  
"No," she said quickly. "Please. I'm clean, baby, swear to God. And I trust
you. I want it like this. Please, baby."  
  
I moaned. My resolve was gone. I wanted her, too, more than she knew. Staring
down into Gabi's beautiful young face, I pushed my cock inside her, wincing at
the tight fit. She may have been wet enough to soak all the way through the
mattress, but she was still damn tight.  
  
"Uhn! Oh! Ah!" Gabi grunted, her face contorted. She bit her lip, took several
deep breaths, held the last one. I worked back and forth, her juices
lubricating my invading cock, then pushed deeper . . deeper . . . I felt
something pop.  
  
"Ahhh!" cried Gabi, and she bucked, clutching my back, her legs quaking as
they gripped my waist tightly. I groaned as I was buried inside the girl.  
  
"Oh, God! Oh, God, stop! Just stop!"  
  
I looked down on Gabi, saw the pain on her face even as I felt the maddening
spasms of her tight young tunnel around my shaft. Jesus, was she hot! And so
incredibly tight!  

"Gabi?" I queried.  
  
"It's okay," she said, even as she winced again. Her eyes were still closed.
"The . . . the pain's going away. I knew it was gonna . . . hurt . . . oh! . .
. I just . . . uhnnn . . . wasn't ready for it . . . ."  
  
_Oh, shit, _I suddenly thought. I looked down at our conjoined bodies, my dark
pubic hair intermingled with hers. I stared back into Gabi's eyes as she
opened them. She was breathing deeply, staring back, her eyes glazed.  
  
"Oh my God," I said in astonishment. "Gabi, baby . . . you're a virgin?"  
  
Her body shuddered, and she winced again, letting out a little squeaking
sound. "Mmm . . . not . . . not anymore," she said between puffs of breath.  
  
I sighed, at once mortified and turned on. "Oh, Gabi, why didn't you tell me?"  
  
"I . . . I thought I did," she said, then pulled herself up, her mouth open
and hungry. "But it doesn't matter. Make love to me, Devon. Please."  
  
I groaned, overwhelmed. I could never have thought Gabi was a virgin. It just
seemed so far outside the realm of possibility that a prostitute would manage
to maintain her virginity. Yet Gabi had managed, somehow, and now here I was,
the first man to take her, to be joined with her.  
  
My mind reeled. "Oh, Gabi . . . ."  
  
"Mmm, yes, baby, make love to me," she whispered. "Take me, I'm yours . . .
oh, God . . . ."  
  
I lay atop her, pressing my lips to hers, easing in and out of her snug, hot
pussy. Gabi trembled, shook, cried softly, her hands roaming all over my body.
She gave herself completely to me, rolling her hips, fucking me back. But it
wasn't fucking.  
  
It was love.  
  
Once the pain and discomfort were gone, Gabi really got into it, digging her
nails into my back, pulling herself up against me. She hissed, panted, moaned,
and glared at me with a feral, purely passionate expression on her face, one I
had never seen before. It was the face of a virgin girl becoming a woman . . .
and one enjoying the transition to the fullest.  
  
"Fuck me, Devon!" she growled. "Fuck me!"  
  
I groaned, sharing her lust, and started really giving it to her, pounding
hard and deep. Gabi yelped, gasped, cried out as I bottomed out, as her no-
longer-virgin cunt was invaded over and over.  
  
"Oh God! Oh God! Fuck me! Fuck meeeeyyyeeeaaahhhh!!!"  
  
Gabi arched her back deeply, pushing me up as she came. Her pussy constricted
so tightly around my penis that it hurt. I couldn't move inside her, and so
just held on, letting Gabi's orgasm run its course. She shrieked, cried, and
literally screamed as her first true orgasm tore through her body. I had no
doubt that my neighbors, and even passersby on the street below, could hear
her orgasmic cries.  
  
She finally relaxed, and sagged down into the bed. I stayed atop her, inside
her, my cock burning in the furnace of her cunt. Thick warm fluid seeped out
around my cock. I gave Gabi a moment to recover, then started moving again.  
  
Gabi's eyes opened, soft and sexy and full of passion. She stared up at me,
slack-jawed, lips shiny and wet. Her hands caressed my muscular chest, my
neck. She pushed a couple fingers into my mouth, and I sucked on them. I
wanted to keep fucking her forever.  
  
I curled her legs up, rolling them back, and settled my hands on the backs of
her knees. Both Gabi and I looked down, watching as my cock slid in and out of
her fur-lined pussy. We were both aroused at the sight of the crimson streaks
along my shaft, at the matted blood in her pubic hair. There was not much
evidence of her deflowering, but there was enough.  
  
Gabi came again, panting and gasping, and just as she hit her peak, thrashing
about beneath me, I erupted as well, my cock spasming and releasing its flood
deep within her womb. Gabi's eyes flashed open as she felt the warm fluid
filling her. It made her cum again, and the force of her orgasm made my fluid
squelch out around my cock, soaking into my balls and flowing down her cheeks.  
  
I collapsed atop her, drained of strength. Gabi did not seem to mind my weight
upon her. She cooed and kissed my shoulder, my neck, my lips. I barely managed
to kiss her back.  
  
"Oh . . . oh . . . Devon," she panted, holding me close.  
  
"Jesus," I replied. "Oh, Gabi . . . oh, my sweet Gabi . . . ."  
  
***  
  
I awoke a while later. The sun had long set; there was only the desk lamp on
in the far corner, which I never turned off. I lay alone in bed, surrounded by
the heady aroma of sex. I sat up, a feeling of panic running through my brain
as I feared that Gabi had left me yet again. But, no, there was her skirt upon
the floor, and her little tank top across the back of the love seat.  
  
I looked to the bathroom, saw that the door was closed, light shining golden
from beneath. I got up, headed to the bathroom, and carefully opened the door.  
  
Gabi looked up, sitting naked on the toilet. She smiled sweetly, almost
innocently.  
  
"You feel okay?" I asked her.  
  
She nodded, still smiling. "I'm, uh . . . kind'a sore, but it's okay," she
said.  
  
I stepped closer, touched her soft dark hair. Gabi pressed her cheek to my
thigh, hugging me. "I wish you would have told me," I said. "I would have made
it special for you."  
  
She lifted her face, her smile even broader. "It was," she said. "Devon . . .
it was perfect."  
  
I lowered myself until we were eye-to-eye. "You're an amazing woman, Gabi."  
  
She swooned, touching my face. Softly, lovingly, she kissed me, her lips
gently sucking my own. "Devon, I want to tell you something," she said as she
pulled back.  
  
"What's that?"  
  
Her eyes searched mine, digging into my soul. "I'm in love with you," she
said.  
  
***  
  
The police were called to the home of one Ricardo 'Rico' Montana the following
night, after receiving an anonymous tip that illegal drug distribution and
prostitution were being conducted from the location. SWAT showed up in full
force, and the house and all within were seized without a shot being fired.
Rico gave himself up as he stared down half a dozen sub-machine gun barrels.  
  
I stood across the street, watching as Rico and his men were taken away. In
the year since I had come to the city, I had made a few friends, among them a
detective by the name of John Garcia. His little brother was one of my
students. John had headed up the raid on the house, and now, as he crossed the
street toward me, he gave me a dubious look.  
  
"Looks like our 'anonymous' tip worked out," he said. "Four kilos of cocaine,
tons of paraphernalia, a small arsenal . . . this bust might just make me
lieutenant."  
  
I smiled. "Well, whoever gave you the tip, I'm sure he's happy for you."  
  
John stepped closer. He was a tall man, especially for an Hispanic. "Rico was
caught in the bedroom with a sixteen-year-old girl," he said under his breath,
so that only I could hear. "Looks like they were about to do something. You
wouldn't know anything about her, would you?"  
  
I said nothing for a moment, watching as two female officers escorted a pretty
young girl – she resembled Gabi in some respects – from the front door and
toward a patrol car. The girl was crying, covering her face.  
  
"Don't tell me this is what I think it is, Dev," he said. "Don't tell me
you've been getting your rocks off with a sixteen—"  
  
"She's a friend of a friend," I said. I glanced back to my car, where Gabi
waited. She was understandably afraid to show herself while Rico was still
around.  
  
John followed my eyes. "And who's that?"  
  
"The friend."  
  
John studied me a moment, and I remained silent, meeting his intimidating
stare. Finally, he smiled, a thin, knowing smile. "The girl's going to be put
in a home," he said. "Until social services can—"  
  
"She has a sister," I said. I smiled. "And she's a very responsible sister."  
  
John let out a sharp laugh. "Why am I not surprised?"  
  
I smiled back. "See you around, John."  
  
***  
  
Gabi's apartment was a small one-bedroom on the west side, far away from where
she had grown up. She did not have much to move from her mother's house, just
a dresser full of clothes and a worn-down old bed. There were a few boxes,
mostly pictures and things that reminded Gabi of her mother, but little else.  
  
Once everything was moved in, I drove Gabi to the small cemetery wherein her
mother had been buried. I kept my distance, watching Gabi as she brought
flowers to her mother's grave, spoke to her for a while. Then I took Gabi back
home, and we made love softly, tenderly. She was asleep when I left the next
morning.  
  
It was late June before I saw Gabi again. She called me up, out of the blue,
telling me that she had been awarded custody of her sister. Letty was going to
move in. Gabi was happy, ecstatic, even. She told me she had gotten a job
waiting tables and was doing pretty well. She said she wanted to see me.  
  
I picked her up with roses in hand and took her to dinner. We saw a stage play
afterward, a local production of 'Little Shop of Horrors,' then headed back to
my place and made love all night. Gabi was insatiable, as always, and I had
little problem keeping up with her.  
  
Four and a half months later, the three of us – Gabi, Letty and I – moved into
a three-bedroom home on the north side of the city. Letty had gotten a job at
a massage therapist's office as a receptionist, and over the following few
years worked her way up, getting her certification, and became a masseuse. I
finished my PhD and was offered a position at the same university. Gabi,
meanwhile, passed her GED exam with my help and enrolled in college. She
wanted to go into anthropology. Imagine that.  
  
Gabi and I are more in love now than ever. We don't talk about her past, but I
accept her for who she is and what she has done. She is my best friend, my
confidant, my lover. She is everything to me.  
  
And in a few months, Gabrielle Arredondo is going to become my wife. We've
already decided to name our first daughter after her mother, Anisa.  
  
I guess I got the Great American Dream after all.  
  
-finis-




End file.

