staring at my bare ass.
Opening my mouth, I dared myself to say something, but I couldn't. I just had to focus on not letting him see that I was nervous.
"Turn around," he said suddenly, "but keep your hand over your pussy. I don't want to see it yet."
I took a deep breath, put a hand over my crotch, and turned to him, making sure to smile. The funny thing is, as I stood there, I felt a little moisture coming from my vagina. The whole situation might have been deeply, deeply wrong, but with shocking clarity I realized that I was actually getting turned on. I wanted to deny the truth, to cling to the belief that I wasn't this kind of woman, but I couldn't ignore the fact that right now, I was almost trembling with anticipation.
Slowly, Parkin ran his hand down his thick, engorged shaft.
For a moment, it occurred to me to tell Parkin to forget the money, that I'd do this for free, but I knew how much I needed that cash. Foregoing the money would be a noble move that would maybe make me feel better for a moment, but I needed that money so damn much, I couldn't turn it down. I figured it was best just to keep quiet, but a little voice in the back of my head warned me: He's going to realize you're not a prostitute, and he's going to be mad that you tried to trick him. You can't possibly please him . I took a deep breath and blinked a few times, and the voice faded. I was getting better and better at putting my conscience to the back of my mind.
Parkin nodded. "Nice," he said after a moment, still stroking his cock. "Tell me, are you shaved or not?"
I swallowed hard. "I'm... trimmed," I said, wondering if it was the right answer.
"Any piercings?"
I shook my head. Again: was that what he wanted, or had I disappointed him? I wanted to know.
He nodded again. "Come closer."
With my hand still over my crotch, I walked over to him, stopping when I was a few feet from his chair. I couldn't help staring at the tip of his cock, imagining it inside me, filling me with its hotness. At that precise moment, it was all I could think about, and all I wanted.
"Closer," he said.
I stepped closer, until I was right at his chair. He leaned toward the hand over my crotch, pressing his fingers against mine.
"Move it away," he said.
I hesitated for a fraction of a second.
"I told you to move it away," he said firmly.
I moved the hand, exposing myself completely. He reaches out and ran a single fingertip against the smooth, shaved skin next to my thin wisp of trimmed pubic hair, before moving down and touching the edge of my wet labia. I could feel the fingertip exploring the moisture, wiping it along the lips of my vagina, as if he was preparing me for the imminent moment of penetration.
"Nice," he said. "Tidy." He looked up at me. "Evelyn chose well," he added, before taking off his sunglasses to finally reveal a pair of gorgeous, dark brown eyes that stared at me with what felt like an immense power. I knew, at that moment, that I wouldn't be able to resist his advances. "How does it feel," he asked, "to be assessed like this, and to pass inspection with flying colors?" He was still spreading my wetness across my crotch, occasionally dipping his fingertip a little deeper between my labia before drawing the smooth substance to the surface. As he did so, either by accident or by design, the side of his finger brushed against my clitoris, sending a brief, wild stab of pleasure through my body.
I smiled awkwardly. "It's fine," I said, my voice tense as I struggled to say the right thing.
He smiled, but it was a cautious smile, as if he was anticipating a different answer. "Fine?" If anything, he seemed to find me quite amusing. "I've got to admit," he continued, "you're probably the best-looking girl Evelyn's ever sent to me. How old are you?"
"Twenty-six," I said.
He nodded, apparently approving of me. "If you're as good to fuck as you are to look at, this might become a regular thing. Are you, though?" He looked directly at my