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Authors: La'Toya Makanjuola
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wanted, I knew that I would have a place to call home.
Chapter 8
In the space of a few months I managed to build up a nice client base of wealthy, high profile men. I experienced men of all races, dicks of all shapes and sizes. At a point I was having sex three times a day, seven days a week. Isabella loved me I was so good for her business that her and Dino even nicknamed me their V.I.P (Very Insatiable Pussy) doll. I didn’t know how to stop once the money came rolling in. I wasn’t sure I even wanted to.
Some people worked in offices staring at a computer screen all day, others stacked shelves, doctors saved lives, some mothers choose to stay at home to look after their babies. I chose to satisfy the needs and desires of grown ass men. It was just another occupation to me. I learned to detach any feelings of love from sex, once I removed that attachment the job became easier and I didn’t need to rely on ‘E’ pills to feel good.
I enjoyed the perks that came with the job, especially travelling. I saw some of the most beautiful places in the world, Dubai, Thailand, Paris, Greece, Milan, New York, Bahamas, Seychelles, St Tropez, Las Vegas and St Barts to name a few. I dined at exclusive restaurants; The Ivy, The Ritz, Zuma, Hakkasan, Mr Chow etc, you name it, chances are I’d probably been there. I attended various events, ranging from fashion shows to football games to boring corporate parties. I rekindled my love for the arts with regular visits to the theatre, opera, ballet and museums. Cameron had always been too busy working to take me so I eventually stopped going.
I have had far too many encounters to recall. I stopped counting when I hit the five hundred mark. I can’t tell you about every single one of my experiences but I will share some of the ones that had the most significant impact on my life. I really don’t know where to start but here it goes. I only ever accepted outcall jobs, the rates were much higher. Plus there was no way in hell that I was gonna let these motherfuckers find out where I laid my head on the rare occasion that I actually got to sleep in my own bed. Judge me if you want but there is nothing you can say or think that I haven’t already thought or called myself.
Paul Davies, or Dennis, to be honest I can’t remember his surname but it was one of the two. I was crazy excited about that job because of the money. It was an overnight call which meant that I would pocket ten grand...yep ten grand! I met Paul at Vertigo 42 as planned. After the usual formalities of collecting the brown envelope and counting the cash was out the way we sat back to sip champagne against the London skyline and enjoyed the amazing view. After our third bottle my head was filled with bubbles, I wasn’t drunk just tipsy, we headed back to Paul’s place in Belgravia. When we got there a busty high yellow chick opened the door. I automatically assumed that she was his live in house help or something and thought nothing of her. Well that was until she grabbed his face and started tonguing the shit out of him.
“I’ve been waiting, what took you so long darling?” she asked him when she finally came up for air.
“Okay, what the fuck is going on here?” I asked, astounded.
“Oh I’m sorry Rose, this is my wife Tia.”
“Your wife,” I managed to blurt out. “What exactly is this?”
“Paul did you not tell her the plan?” his wife asked.
“Look I don’t know what is going on here but Isabella didn’t mention anything about a third party. I’m afraid I don’t get down like that, I’ll give you half of your money back but I’m outta here.”
“Paul do something,” I heard Tia say as I threw half of the money he had given me earlier on the floor.
I left them standing in the hallway and walked out on them closing the door firmly behind me. I ran down the stairs, praying that I wouldn’t break my neck in my six inch heels.
“Wait, please hold on,” Paul hollered out of breath as
Chapter 8
In the space of a few months I managed to build up a nice client base of wealthy, high profile men. I experienced men of all races, dicks of all shapes and sizes. At a point I was having sex three times a day, seven days a week. Isabella loved me I was so good for her business that her and Dino even nicknamed me their V.I.P (Very Insatiable Pussy) doll. I didn’t know how to stop once the money came rolling in. I wasn’t sure I even wanted to.
Some people worked in offices staring at a computer screen all day, others stacked shelves, doctors saved lives, some mothers choose to stay at home to look after their babies. I chose to satisfy the needs and desires of grown ass men. It was just another occupation to me. I learned to detach any feelings of love from sex, once I removed that attachment the job became easier and I didn’t need to rely on ‘E’ pills to feel good.
I enjoyed the perks that came with the job, especially travelling. I saw some of the most beautiful places in the world, Dubai, Thailand, Paris, Greece, Milan, New York, Bahamas, Seychelles, St Tropez, Las Vegas and St Barts to name a few. I dined at exclusive restaurants; The Ivy, The Ritz, Zuma, Hakkasan, Mr Chow etc, you name it, chances are I’d probably been there. I attended various events, ranging from fashion shows to football games to boring corporate parties. I rekindled my love for the arts with regular visits to the theatre, opera, ballet and museums. Cameron had always been too busy working to take me so I eventually stopped going.
I have had far too many encounters to recall. I stopped counting when I hit the five hundred mark. I can’t tell you about every single one of my experiences but I will share some of the ones that had the most significant impact on my life. I really don’t know where to start but here it goes. I only ever accepted outcall jobs, the rates were much higher. Plus there was no way in hell that I was gonna let these motherfuckers find out where I laid my head on the rare occasion that I actually got to sleep in my own bed. Judge me if you want but there is nothing you can say or think that I haven’t already thought or called myself.
Paul Davies, or Dennis, to be honest I can’t remember his surname but it was one of the two. I was crazy excited about that job because of the money. It was an overnight call which meant that I would pocket ten grand...yep ten grand! I met Paul at Vertigo 42 as planned. After the usual formalities of collecting the brown envelope and counting the cash was out the way we sat back to sip champagne against the London skyline and enjoyed the amazing view. After our third bottle my head was filled with bubbles, I wasn’t drunk just tipsy, we headed back to Paul’s place in Belgravia. When we got there a busty high yellow chick opened the door. I automatically assumed that she was his live in house help or something and thought nothing of her. Well that was until she grabbed his face and started tonguing the shit out of him.
“I’ve been waiting, what took you so long darling?” she asked him when she finally came up for air.
“Okay, what the fuck is going on here?” I asked, astounded.
“Oh I’m sorry Rose, this is my wife Tia.”
“Your wife,” I managed to blurt out. “What exactly is this?”
“Paul did you not tell her the plan?” his wife asked.
“Look I don’t know what is going on here but Isabella didn’t mention anything about a third party. I’m afraid I don’t get down like that, I’ll give you half of your money back but I’m outta here.”
“Paul do something,” I heard Tia say as I threw half of the money he had given me earlier on the floor.
I left them standing in the hallway and walked out on them closing the door firmly behind me. I ran down the stairs, praying that I wouldn’t break my neck in my six inch heels.
“Wait, please hold on,” Paul hollered out of breath as
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