Third cousin who solicits prostitutes

page views:1 Publication date:2023-06-11 13:09:25

Before I left, my mom, besides reminding me to take care of myself, gave me an address with a phone number
, hoping I could visit my third cousin who lived there if I had time. My memory of my third cousin was very vague; I hadn't seen her for almost twenty years since she got married, only calling my mom occasionally during holidays.

I arrived in Chicago with immense excitement. The secretary of Boss A, a young man in his twenties
, picked me up and kept introducing me to the local culture, their company culture, and how their boss started the business, etc.
I listened very attentively, not only listening but also constantly taking notes in a small notebook. (Looking back now,
I was incredibly naive ; I should have just asked for the materials directly.)

After a twenty-minute drive, we arrived at their company, a 40-story building that belonged solely to them.
I'd seen many such buildings in City B, but I had to admit, Boss A was indeed a very influential figure in Chicago.
After exchanging pleasantries with Boss A, we went straight to a restaurant (when traveling for interviews, eating and drinking are inevitable).

To show his respect, Boss A brought several people to accompany me, making a total of seven people including myself.
Boss A was his vice president, a middle-aged man in his forties; the office manager was a middle-aged woman in her forties
, whose surname I didn't know.

Later I learned that the vice president and the office manager were husband and wife; then there were two
young women in their twenties, an accountant and a cashier; and then there was the secretary who received me.

At first, I was a little reserved while drinking, but after we got to know each other, I started chatting idly with these shrewd businessmen. I don't
know what we talked about, but I do know that Boss A had these people constantly pouring me drinks, especially the two young women, one on each side of me
, continuously pouring me drinks.

Damn, if I kept drinking like this, I'd be done for today. So I pretended to be drunk, slumped over the table
, and kicked several beer bottles to pieces. (My colleague at the TV station taught me this: when you're in a drinking contest with a group of people, just pretend to be
drunk.) When the boss saw I was completely drunk, he told his secretary and one of the girls to take me to a hotel.

Once in the room, they threw me on the bed, and the secretary told the girl, "The boss wants you to keep him company tonight
." I thought, "Damn, what kind of nonsense is this? If this gets back to the station, I'll be finished!"

I pretended to be drunk and said, "Let's go, all of you, let's go." Even though I didn't see it, I could feel that the girl was looking at me with disdain, thinking, "I don't even want you to touch me!"

After they left, I drifted off to sleep. While sleeping, I felt very thirsty, struggled to get up
to find some water, and that was the last thing I did. I didn't sleep a wink all night.

I drank a bottle of mineral water and felt a bit of a headache. Just as I lay down, I heard strange noises from next door: slapping
sounds, a woman's moans, and a man's heavy breathing. At first, I thought it was the two people who had dropped me off, but it didn't sound like them
. It sounded like two women and a man, all seemingly drunk. My penis instantly became hard.
What was I going to do in the middle of the night? I didn't know anyone in this place. What if I went out to find a prostitute and couldn't get back?

While listening to the moans and lost my mind, the landline rang. I hesitated for a moment, but
answered without saying anything. "Hello sir,
sorry to bother you so late. This is the hotel reception. Do you need any services?"

Without thinking, I blurted out, "A pot of tea, please." "

Do you need someone to keep you company?" Hearing the moans
coming from next door, I hesitated for a long time before answering the receptionist's question. Before I could even speak, the receptionist's string of descriptions—"Innocent, mature, slender,
voluptuous ~"—completely shattered my defenses.

"Someone mature, someone who knows how to please."

I sighed as I hung up, went to the bathroom,
and then lay on the bed, quietly waiting for this long-distance affair. Less than twenty minutes later, there was a soft knock
on the door. I got up and opened it. A middle-aged woman, around forty years old, with shoulder-length hair, wearing
a pink short-sleeved t-shirt, white capri pants, and white slippers, stood outside. She carried a small bag in her left hand and a pot
of tea . After glancing at me, she walked straight into the room.

"Sir, here's your tea."

I assumed she was just a waitress and
politely , "Okay, please put it there. Thank you." "

Who knew she'd turn around, close the door, and
lock it from the inside. Then she turned back to me and said, 'Sir, if you're not satisfied with me, I'll have the front desk get you another one.'

'Satisfied, satisfied, you're the one.' I was so eager, I didn't have time to wait any longer.

Only a bedside lamp was on in the room. In the dim, soft light, I carefully observed her. She wasn't heavily
made up, and although not exceptionally beautiful, she had an inexplicable approachability.

'How much?' '3000, until 6:30
in the morning . As long as you're willing, as many times as you want, including oral sex.'

'Deal!' That's the good thing about small towns—
affordable prices and comprehensive services."

She took off her t-shirt and capri pants, revealing a red bra and panties, and sat on the edge of my bed,
helping me undress. The moaning from next door had already pushed me to my limit. I pulled her close and
kissed her on the lips. At first, she flinched a little, but I held her head down with one hand and rubbed her bra
vigorously with the other, prying open her teeth with my tongue and licking her mouth incessantly.

Gradually, she responded, not only engaging in a tongue-to-tongue exchange but also grabbing my penis with one hand and
unhooking her bra with the other. After kissing like this for less than two minutes, she pushed me down,
spread her legs, and straddled me, kissing my forehead and ears, licking my nipples, and occasionally
gently biting them with her teeth. Mature women are different; young girls just don't work.

Just as I was getting into the swing of things, she got up, opened her bag, took out a bag of wet wipes, and after pulling down my underwear
, she carefully wiped my penis with the wipes, pulling back the foreskin and even wiping the crevices of the glans. I watched her series
of movements, still holding her large breasts in my hand, playing with her nipples. Even at her age, her breasts were still so
perky, and her nipples were dark red and hard; it seemed she was excited too.

She lowered her head, licked the glans of my penis with her tongue, and then licked from one side of the penis to the other
, before sucking the glans into her mouth. Just when I felt I couldn't take it anymore, she suddenly let go and
took my penis directly into her mouth, stroking it up and down. All I could do was lie there and enjoy this warm, moist
feeling.

She gave me oral sex for a few minutes. Then she arched her back, without even taking off her panties,
and spread them my penis into her vagina. She started thrusting back and forth (I hadn't been to her many times before, and I'd even forgotten to
wear a condom). I held her slightly fleshy waist with both hands, cooperating with her, even leaning forward to
suck and lick her nipples. In this position, whether she's a mature woman or a young girl, you can only feel how incredibly tight her vagina is
, gripping you from both ends with great pleasure.

Maybe it was because of the alcohol, but I didn't feel like ejaculating. I gently patted her buttocks,
signaling her to lie down, spread her legs, and pressed myself against her, thrusting hard a few times. However, her reaction
surprised me. She was clearly enjoying it, but she only moaned softly, unlike other prostitutes who deliberately groan and moan to
provoke you into ejaculating quickly.

So, mischievously, I thrust harder and harder each time. Maybe my penis wasn't long enough, or maybe
her vagina was deep, but no matter how hard I tried, I couldn't reach the very end. This made me a little disappointed,
but as the pleasure came, the disappointment was overwhelmed.

At this moment, she tightly hugged my neck with both hands, wrapped her legs around my waist, and whispered in my ear
, "Cum inside, I have an IUD."

My ejaculation was released, and all the semen I had accumulated over two weeks was given to
her. I lay weakly on top of her, enjoying the afterglow of my orgasm, while the mature woman beneath me
let out a long sigh of relief; clearly, she had also achieved orgasm.

The moaning from next door had stopped, replaced by a man's deafening snoring.
The older woman lying next to me used a wet wipe to clean my penis after ejaculation before getting up and going to
the bathroom to wash herself.

The fatigue from the long journey, the effects of alcohol, and the exhaustion after sex made me drowsy, but I struggled
to stay awake, torn by inner conflict. I wanted her to leave, but I'd only had sex once and already spent money; I felt a little
unwilling to give up. But if I didn't let her go, I worried she'd take my wallet and phone while I slept, which would be a huge loss.

After much deliberation, I grabbed my pants, took out my wallet, and was about to find a place to hide it when she
appeared in front of me, wearing only a towel, smiling at me. Luckily, I reacted quickly.

"I'll give you some money," I said, pulling out
three bills She casually stuffed them into her small bag and then lay down beside me, watching
me.

I relaxed slightly, placed my wallet on the bedside table, pulled her into my arms, and with my other hand untied her
towel, gently caressing her large breasts.

"How old are you? Coming out to play around at such a young age?"

"25.
What can I do? Every man has needs." I chatted with her, half-jokingly.

"At your age, how come you're doing this?" I asked her.

"I had no choice!" She was silent for a moment
, her expression somewhat unnatural, from which I deduced that she was a woman with a story. Although I was a bit morally corrupt,
I didn't dare to pursue the question further, afraid of touching on her painful past.

However, she suddenly changed to a more feminine demeanor, her lips close to my ear: "Women have needs too
." I stared, mouth agape, for a long time: "Okay, I'll give it to you!" Her words were like a shot of adrenaline,
instantly making my limp penis stand erect and proud.

I increased the pressure of the hand that was kneading her breasts, and thrust my tongue into her mouth, kissing her passionately. She
responded to my kisses, her slightly rough hands stroking my penis up and down. Just as my possessive desire was about to reach
its peak , I lifted her buttocks, pulled down her red silk panties, threw them aside, parted her
sparse pubic hair, and without any effort, my penis slid in completely.

She was wet inside, not just wet, but very, very wet. Playing with older women is
different from playing with young girls. How is it different? This time, I felt like we were both beasts that had been
starved

riding, doggy style, and rear entry. The only position we didn't try was standing, because I was too exhausted
. I don't know if it was because of the liquor, because it was the second time, or something else, but my penis was almost chafed raw,
and I still couldn't ejaculate.

But she, this middle-aged woman, made me ejaculate. It was the first time in my life I'd ever seen a woman
squirt. It sprayed far and a lot, lasting for a good 20 seconds, landing on my legs, the blankets, and
the sheets . Along with her squirting, I heard her only moan, "Ah... Ah... Ah..."
three words, no, to be precise, one word three times.

The change from a muffled groan to a moan gave me, the man who had conquered her, immense satisfaction. Afterwards, I
held her and lay on the bed, drifting off to sleep.

The next morning, around 6 a.m., she shook me awake and told me she was leaving. I nodded
groggily , wanting to go back to sleep, but then I remembered my phone and wallet, so I struggled to sit up
and watched her get dressed and leave. The moment she closed the door, I felt a distinct emptiness and loss. I
didn't understand why I felt this way; I desperately wanted to see her again.

I lay down again and slept until 9 a.m. While washing up, I noticed dark circles under my eyes in the mirror – probably a
consequence of overindulgence.

Boss A's secretary picked me up and took me to their company. Accompanied by Boss A, I toured the third and
fourth floors. I had to admire them; a large company is indeed a large company. The employees were all young and attractive young women and men,
all uniformly dressed – women in short skirts, men in suits. The work environment was top-notch; everyone had
a computer on their desk. It was an eye-opener

for me. However, one detail puzzled me. Passing by the stairwell, I noticed many middle-aged men
and women, as well as elderly people, being led upstairs by staff members. They were all full of energy and enthusiasm,
and I could hear synchronized slogans and cheers coming from upstairs.

My suggestion to go upstairs was politely declined by Boss A, who said the space was being lent to
other companies for charity activities. At that moment, due to various environmental factors, I forgot the most basic qualities of a journalist
, and went out with Boss A for a simple lunch. In the afternoon, we visited their company's construction project.

After about an hour's drive, Boss A brought me to the side of a small river. He called it a river, but I felt
"ditch" would be a more accurate description. Several excavators were parked on this side, but there was no sign of construction. "We're
planning to build a dam here and then a power station. Once the government approves it, we can start construction." "

Brother A, you're kidding me. What are you going to build here? A fishpond?"

Although I'm young
and haven't been working for long, I don't think I'm stupid. I don't know anything about water conservancy, but I know that
if generate electricity, then the earth wouldn't have a power shortage.

"It is indeed a power station!" Boss A described his grand vision to me with great enthusiasm, how
beneficial would be to the people, how much revenue it would bring, and so on.

"Oh, that's great, a good project!" Unable to bear his
incessant chatter Whatever you want to do, it's none of my business. I figured you're just
colluding with the local government, using the project as a pretext to make money—it's just official-business collusion."

After everything was over, Boss A took me to dinner that evening. There were only three of us: me, Boss A, and his secretary
. After two bottles of beer, Boss A had his secretary hand me a bulging file folder. "Brother, we're really happy

you came to interview us. This little place doesn't have much good stuff. Take this; buy whatever you need. It's just a little something from me, your older brother." " No, no, no, Brother A, don't be like that. It's just normal work for me to come here for an interview. I feel quite proud 　　to be able to interview someone as successful as you ." I glanced at the file folder and knew this money wasn't a small sum . I dared not take it, nor could I. I still remembered a colleague who was fired for taking 9,000 yuan from an interviewee; I didn't want to follow in his footsteps. After 　　I said this, Boss A didn't bring it up again. He suggested going to a bar after dinner, but I declined because I was genuinely tired and sleepy. I told Boss A I wouldn't be coming tomorrow; I'd stay at the hotel to organize the interview materials and come back the day after to see if I needed anything. 　　His secretary escorted me to my hotel room. Before I could even say goodbye, he threw down the file folder and left . By the time I chased after him, he was gone. Back in my room, I opened it and found ten bundles of 1,000-yuan bills . I was thrilled. Holy crap, that was two years' salary! No wonder my colleagues didn't earn much, but they all owned houses and cars. 　　Holding the money, I smiled like an idiot. Two years later, every time I thought about it, I felt like I was laughing at my own stupidity . That night, I slept soundly, clutching the money. 　　The next morning at 8 a.m., I found the phone my mom had given me and dialed my third cousin's number. "Third cousin, it's me , your little cousin. Are you home today? I'm here on a business trip and wanted to visit." " Oh, little cousin, I'm home. When are you coming over?" "I'll come over at noon; I have some things to do this morning." 　　"Where do you live? Should I come pick you up?" "Ah! No need, third cousin, is this your address ?" I read the address aloud from the slip of paper . "I moved. Write this down! Come over for lunch ; I'll make you something nice." I quickly jotted down the address, exchanged a few pleasantries with my third cousin, and hung up. 　　Two hours later, I finished organizing the documents, took 5,000 yuan from the file folder and put it into the safe, tidied up, and left. I even kicked the door twice before locking it, afraid a thief would come in and steal my money. 　　I went to a nearby shopping mall, wondering what to buy for my third cousin. I looked for clothes and shoes, but didn't know her size . After wandering around, I bought two Panasonic cell phones, one for my cousin and one for her husband. I then took a taxi to my cousin's house. 　　After giving her the address, I clearly felt the driver's eyes flicker. I didn't pay much attention at the time. After about half an hour, the driver told me we had arrived. I looked at the meter and saw 500 yuan. I immediately got angry, grabbed the driver by the collar, and yelled, "You son of a bitch, are you taking advantage of me because I'm from out of town? In this tiny place, a round trip would only cost 100 yuan. Do you think I'm stupid?" "Are you going to pay or not? If you don't, you're not getting out of the car," the middle-aged driver retorted, trying to act tough. 　　"Damn it, not a single cent!" I slapped him across the face. In the instant he froze, I opened the car door and got out. "Get out of here!" I yelled at the window. The driver, seeing me about to call the police, sped off. (I was so young and impetuous back then. Thinking about it now, it's quite scary. What if that driver had brought a bunch of taxi drivers?) 　　After getting out of the car, I realized it was quite a distance from my third cousin's house. Asking for directions, I finally arrived at the place I was looking for. I knocked on the door for a while, but no one answered. I thought I had the wrong place, so I called my third cousin. "Third cousin, aren't you home?" "You're at my house? Wait a moment at the door. I just went to buy groceries and am on my way back ." 　　When I saw two middle-aged women carrying groceries coming towards me, my first thought was—I was about to be struck by lightning.

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