Desert Flowers [Jasmine/Others] {1/2}afterandalasiaFebruary 23 2011, 19:02:32 UTC
Took this in a slightly different direction... hope that you don't mind!
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Some of the men were shy, and uncertain, and fumbled with their pants as they removed them. They mumbled about wives that lay still and cold and unwilling to be touched beneath them, and loved it best when she told them how good they were, and finished quickly anyway so it really never seemed to be too hard a work. And it was not hard, either, to bid them a sweet goodbye and touch their cheek with a smile, and some of them came back so often that she came to know their name and all about them, and they would smile when they heard that she was free for them. In all truth, she rather pitied them, when she counted the money after they were gone and thought about what she had spent with all that they had given her.
Of course, some of them were all bravado, and liked to posture and show off, and wanted her to gasp and look amazed at their naked bodies. Few were anything special; many had sagging stomachs and flabby arms, and it was an effort to twist her features into a look of awed wonder at their imaginary physical status. As for asking a whore to find any man's penis impressive, well, that was pure foolery. Most of them wanted her to take them in her mouth, of course, with mms and ahs of anticipation, and they would grunt and thrust like animals and by the time they got round to penetrating her had barely anything left in them anyway. And they did not pay so well, but were more fun to ape and mock in the evenings with the other women, to peals of laughter and waggling of imaginary cocks and flexing of imaginary muscles.
Some were perfunctionary, almost distasteful of the whole situation, and as much as she tried she could not hide her boredom with them as she lay and let them thrust away, their minds clearly elsewhere, both of their bodies seemingly cold and barely touching. They didn't tend to return to her, though they were regulars at the brothel, as they didn't like her temperament. The madame was angry at her for that for a while, but she had snapped that it was not her fault, and there were plenty of men who had their preferences. And besides, her beauty attracted men enough anyway.
Oh, her beauty. There were men who came just for that. Men who paid her to spurn them and turn away their advances, sometimes for weeks at a time! Men who paid for the pursuit and not the catching, who seemed to lose interest once the game was up and she gave herself to them. They were always, at the least, entertaining ones.
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Some of the men were shy, and uncertain, and fumbled with their pants as they removed them. They mumbled about wives that lay still and cold and unwilling to be touched beneath them, and loved it best when she told them how good they were, and finished quickly anyway so it really never seemed to be too hard a work. And it was not hard, either, to bid them a sweet goodbye and touch their cheek with a smile, and some of them came back so often that she came to know their name and all about them, and they would smile when they heard that she was free for them. In all truth, she rather pitied them, when she counted the money after they were gone and thought about what she had spent with all that they had given her.
Of course, some of them were all bravado, and liked to posture and show off, and wanted her to gasp and look amazed at their naked bodies. Few were anything special; many had sagging stomachs and flabby arms, and it was an effort to twist her features into a look of awed wonder at their imaginary physical status. As for asking a whore to find any man's penis impressive, well, that was pure foolery. Most of them wanted her to take them in her mouth, of course, with mms and ahs of anticipation, and they would grunt and thrust like animals and by the time they got round to penetrating her had barely anything left in them anyway. And they did not pay so well, but were more fun to ape and mock in the evenings with the other women, to peals of laughter and waggling of imaginary cocks and flexing of imaginary muscles.
Some were perfunctionary, almost distasteful of the whole situation, and as much as she tried she could not hide her boredom with them as she lay and let them thrust away, their minds clearly elsewhere, both of their bodies seemingly cold and barely touching. They didn't tend to return to her, though they were regulars at the brothel, as they didn't like her temperament. The madame was angry at her for that for a while, but she had snapped that it was not her fault, and there were plenty of men who had their preferences. And besides, her beauty attracted men enough anyway.
Oh, her beauty. There were men who came just for that. Men who paid her to spurn them and turn away their advances, sometimes for weeks at a time! Men who paid for the pursuit and not the catching, who seemed to lose interest once the game was up and she gave herself to them. They were always, at the least, entertaining ones.
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