"I need to find a way to make a lot of money so my baby girl can have the life she deserves." Zahara Stone

She was making a killing on the stage

It did not take long before she had it all down. The tricks and the games that the girls played to get the high rollers to drop stacks on them. She learned the most from watching the other ladies and keeping her ears open.

"The way to top dollar is the back room. You make more than double, even triple than the floor," she overheard Lexie Diamond say.

"I have a couple of big tippers that pay my way off the stage or the back room. Pays my rent, buys me clothes, gives me stacks, just to pretend to be his girlfriend." That was J'net Jax who was set up pretty nicely in a condo in Clayton, one of the richest suburbs in St. Louis.

This was interesting, but she needed more.

"Girl, the way to play the game is to get them sprung. Do all the freaky shit with them," Virgin Maria said. "If you're down with whatever, you'll get paid."

She wished she had her favorite aunt and her mentor around to school her on the game. She needed to come up. She did not want to be a stripper all her life. She had a daughter to raise and a lifestyle she wanted to upkeep. Poor was out, she needed to get paid. Auntie Rosaline was a homeless teen when she first met her uncle. She wasn't down that bad, but just about. She needed real money.

So far she only did stage work and a few lap dance dances. No man or woman was interested in giving her the real money she wanted. Bre-Yonce was growing like a weed and already expensive. She grew up with little and she wanted her daughter to have it all. Money wasn't a thing.

But how was she going to get to the top dollar? Maybe she needed to level up out of Sextacy Two and get into the main club. Hell, she was family, she should be the highlight of the place. Plus she was young and innocent-looking, the fellas would love that.

Dressed up in her best Rosetta Stone attire of bedazzled studded bikini top and thong only covering the front area, she took the stage. It was time to put on her best performance. The pole was easy for her to master and it's what the guys loved the most. So much money rained down on her that she could barely see through it. With the lights and the people around, it was hard enough to focus on one face in the audience.

And then she saw him, sitting in the back all alone, his eyes laser-focused on her.

It was the guy that was with her cousin-in-law. The hot guy she gave a lap dance to. That was all he wanted from her that night she met him, lap dance after lap dance. And then she never heard from him again.

But remembering how he made her feel, she focused on him and finished dancing with her eyes focused on the back of the club. It was like he was the only one there. Her body was on fire thinking of him. She wanted him and she would do whatever she needed to do to get him.

Yutaki, she remembered his name because it was different.

As soon as she was done on stage, she sauntered off and onto the floor. A few of the fellas were still throwing dollars at her, but she ignored all of them. She made her way to the back with Yutaki.

"Hi there again," she said to him while he sat alone at his table with two empty glasses of something blue. He was dressed in another suit, which made him stand out from the others dressed so casually in the club. "I thought I'd never see you again."

"I've come to see you dance several times."

This was news to her. She never spotted him. Typically she did her dance, made her money, and was out of there. She only worked the floor if she didn't make her minimum on the stage. Now that she was trying to step her game up, she needed to meet a big tipper.

"Let me know whatever you need." She leaned in close to him, her hand rubbing down his chest. "I'll do anything you like."

"I hear they have private rooms." He held out a stack of bills, all crispy hundreds. "I have my own cash this time."

Now that's what was up! Take this fine man to the back room and milk him for all his cash.

"Then I'm down for whatever."

But was she though? Was she really going to have sex with a stranger to get paid?

Well...she told herself he was hot enough she would fuck him for free. Why not collect a couple of dollars? Beforehand with some of the other ladies, they discussed fees for things that were under the table.

A hand job was a cool fifty bucks. Simple.

A quick blow job was two hundred.

Get wild and freaky, including deep-throating the dick and ball play, that was four hundred.

Letting them eat you out cost five hundred.

A five-minute dip in the honey pot with a condom was one thousand. That was a quickie, and she was told that's all most guys lasted. According to her sexpert cousin, the average time of sexual intercourse was five and a half minutes. Never was a guy that was paying for sex going all night. But she heard the ladies were taught to run the clock and milk them for their bread by keeping them going longer.

Each five minutes after was five hundred dollars, so broke guys were always quick with it. Brothers with the bread weren't counting the minutes, it was almost like a bragging right they could go longer.

Anal straight up with nothing else was two thousand flat. Added on to one of the other services it was fifteen hundred. Lucky guys got a discount for going front to back. Anything past five minutes added five hundred.

Toys and gadgets tacked on additional fees. If they wanted to be strapped, and plenty did, it was at the discretion of the lady. They were even asking for threesomes and that's what the ballers wanted. Dropping ten grand in one night when money wasn't a thing, she wanted those problems.

Once they were in the room that was barely the size of a small bedroom, she started to dance to the freaky song coming through into the room. The only things in the room were a bed with black covers, a small table that held an assortment of condoms and sex toys, and a chair.

"No, wait." He stopped her by holding her arm. He moved closer to her, staring into her eyes with his dark, mysterious eyes. "I want the girlfriend experience. I want you to pretend you're mine."

"Okay." Not that she knew what that meant. This was all illegal activities anyway, and he was a lawyer. Maybe by making it like he was just giving a girlfriend money, his guilty conscience would make it better. "I am here to please you."

He tilted her head up a bit, not that he was that much taller, and then he planted his lips on hers. He was a slow, gentle kisser, savoring her lips and then her tongue. He tasted sweet like the fruity drink was sipping on. Caught up in the moment, she momentarily forgot she was kissing a John, and wanted to feel like this was her man.

"Do you do this with other guys?"

"No." But if she did she wouldn't tell him.

"If I came home from a hard day of work, and you're there, what would you do for your man to de-stress him?"

She knew where this was going. She bit the corner of her lower lip before she reached her hands to unbutton his shirt. After that was done, she unfastened his belt, and then his pants. She slid his pants and boxers down his hips, his full erection in view as his pants dropped to the floor. For a small-frame guy, he was packing. Nice length, nice girth, clean and smooth.

"Let me see what I can do for you."

Without hesitation she wrapped her lips around his dick, slowly inching more into her mouth.

"Good girl," Yutaki said and patted her head. "Daddy needed this."

Already into kink play, she was down for that. Being freaky is what got her pregnant at eighteen.

Sucking dick was nothing. She could do that all night. She tried her best to suck the soul from him, cupping his balls a massaging them. If she did a good job, maybe he would pay her more.

Then he tapped her head. "Look up at me."

She did so, his dick still in her mouth.

"What else will you do to keep me happy?"

She took one last, long slurp of his dick before sliding it out of her mouth.

"I want to ride your face."

That made him smile. "I have been dreaming about how you taste."

Yutaki sat back in the bed and pulled her with him, positioning her over his face. She still wore the little thong and pasties. He didn't seem to care. He pushed his face between her crevice and buried his tongue between her wet lips. She rocked her ass back and forth so he could get the full range of her, from ass crack to the top ridge of her lady lips.

She coated his face with her cream as she came and squirted him. He lapped that up and kept going. She braced herself and held her moans in. Was this just a business transaction or was she catching feelings?

Why'd he kiss her?

Why was he eating her out like he loved her?

Why was she in her head when a hot guy was making her drip like a water faucet?

Once he had enough, he moved her to the side and sat up.

"That's enough for today."

"What?"

Had she done something wrong? Did she not taste good? Was she not wet enough? Was she too wet? Was she dry like a desert?

He stood and fixed his clothes, buttoning his shirt and his pants while she watched. All she could do was stand there in disbelief. She wanted more. That was simply an appetizer, she wanted the entree. The man had her body hot and she wanted the dick in her.

"This was nice." He pulled out the stack of cash from his jacket pocket. "Two thousand. Buy yourself something nice for being such a good, tasty girl."

She took the money and blinked at it. That was more than enough for what they had done.

"And buy your baby girl something, Zahara."

How did he know she had a daughter? And he called her name, not her stage name Rosetta Stone.

"A little extra to make sure you don't need to look anywhere else for a big spender. I got you."

And with that, he walked out of the room. What was his deal? Why was a man that fine, a lawyer at that, paying for sex?

A/N: I had so much trouble finding prices for uh...services. Since it's illegal there is no way of knowing. The numbers I did find were so lowball, I'm guessing sex workers are not reporting the true amount.