200 Roses

By Lilith Goode

Colette never meant to become a prostitute. She thought the cute guy in the Porsche just wanted to party. Now the question is can an eighteen year old girl with a famous mother and a father in prison find love and happiness as a high school hooker?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Lilith Goode
• Release date: May 12, 2022
• ISBN: 9781005014827

Lilith Goode

I was born in Fort Lauderdale, Florida back before it became a parking lot running from Miami to Palm Beach. In an attempt to escape my five and a half million neighbors, cockroaches, and hurricanes, I moved to Sault Ste. Marie, Michigan, which lies on the Canadian border in Michigan's upper peninsula, in the mistaken belief that anyplace located on a large body of water would have a lot of seafood restaurants. Not being much of a sports person, I missed the somewhat obvious correlation that in order to have seafood restaurants, the body of water has to be an ocean and not a lake. My writing career, such as it is, began when my computer tragically died at a very young age. As background, I should tell you I've long been a fan of Hentai, which is basically anime styled porn, and my favorite meme is where a sweet and virginal young girl has her first sexual encounter and immediately turns into a stark, raving nymphomaniac. When my computer went to computer hell (Seattle, Washington) I had just finished reading an article describing how Japanese anime is influencing Western drawing styles and memes more and more, and had also just finished reading several of Adam Warren's 'Empowered' comics, (which, if you haven't already, you should definitely check out). Suddenly having lots of free time on my hands, (if you want to spark your creative juices I strongly suggest trashing your computer) I began to wonder what a story done in my favorite hentai meme (nymphomaniac, remember?) would be like. I envisioned a young virgin who, on her eighteenth birthday, dreams of a sexual encounter with a stranger and who, upon awakening, realizes it wasn't a dream. Following which, naturally, she turns into a sex-crazed maniac. At first that was the extent of it, but as time went on I kept thinking about what, exactly, that would entail, and finally had to write it down so I could keep track of it. That story has gone through many changes, and I'm still not ready to publish it, although I hope to someday, but it got me interested in writing. (I did recently publish the opening scene in a collection of short stories called "Pretty Little Sluts" as a bonus feature if you'd like to check it out.) Since my favorite subject is sex, I naturally turned to erotica. (I've been told that what I write isn't strictly erotica, as apparently my stories come with too much of something called 'plot.' I considered toning the...

Book preview

200 ROSES

Copyright 2022 Lilith Goode

Published by Lilith Goode at Smashwords

This book contains scenes of an adult nature, including graphic sexual scenes, scenes depicting drug use, and obscene language. No one under the age of eighteen should purchase or read this book. All characters in this work are eighteen years of age or older.

Cover Image Credit: SHUTTERSTOCK / ALEXY TORBEEV

ISBN: 9781005014827

Colette never meant to become a prostitute. She thought the cute guy in the Porsche just wanted to party. Now the question is whether or not an eighteen year old girl with a famous mother and a father in prison can find true love and happiness as a high school hooker?

TABLE OF CONTENTS

CHAPTER ONE – LOOKING FOR A PARTY?

CHAPTER TWO – TWO FELONS IN THE FAMILY

CHAPTER THREE – MY NAME IS JOHN

CHAPTER FOUR – RAVISH ME

CHAPTER FIVE – MISTRESS TONYA

CHAPTER SIX – NOT BAD FOR A WHITE GIRL

CHAPTER SEVEN – CALL ME

CHAPTER EIGHT – SLAVERY IS SO PASSE

CHAPTER NINE – DINNER AND A NIGHT ON THE TOWN

CHAPTER TEN – GET A ROOM

CHAPTER ELEVEN – LOTS OF HAPPY FACES

CHAPTER TWELVE – EXCALIBUR

CHAPTER THIRTEEN – MALIBU BEACH HOUSE

CHAPTER FOURTEEN – CHAOS

CHAPTER FIFTEEN – DUOPOLICITY

CHAPTER ONE – LOOKING FOR A PARTY?

I never meant to become a prostitute. For sure not while I was still in high school. It just sort of happened. See, the thing is, I’m always horny lately. I’ve read that most women don’t reach their peak sexuality until they’re really old, like in their mid-thirties. I mean, my mom’s only a few years older than that.

Oh my God, forget I said that. I plan to. I’m going to work really, really hard at it.

Anyhow, as I was saying, ever since I turned eighteen it’s like my hormones went into overdrive. Before that I was a nice, trim thirty-two B, with a twenty-one-inch waist and thirty-two-inch hips. I was a little on the short side at five-one, but I kind of liked it. And I only weighed ninety-two pounds, which I definitely liked.

Then it was like I went to bed one night and woke up the next morning with a whole new body. Now I’m thirty-four C, twenty-one, thirty-three. Not to mention I shot up to five-six, most of which seemed to go to my legs, which had been perfectly proportioned before but now seem too long for my body.

Plus, I gained over ten pounds! Now on a good day I hit a hundred and five on the old Richter scale. No matter how hard I try, I cannot get below a hundred.

Trust me when I say that while I was happy about getting the extra boost in the bust department, I was definitely not overjoyed with the rest of it. I’d sort of liked being small and cuddly. I needed to find much larger boys if I wanted to be cuddled now.

Of course, my girlfriends all tell me I’m not fat, and the guys tell me I’m even hotter than before, but I still feel huge. I suppose the feeling will go away eventually, but right now I’d give anything to go back to how I was before. Well, maybe I’d keep the breasts.

But I’m digressing. I was telling you how I became a high school hooker.

I was walking home from school. Normally I drive my baby, a fire red Mustang my daddy bought me for my sixteenth birthday, but my bitch mom had taken my keys away and I was damned if I was going to ride the bus.

All because she’d come into my room to check on me at an unfortunate moment. I was under my covers just like I was supposed to be, but I was also under Steve, which I was most definitely not supposed to be.

So, my mom shit puppies. It was horrible. She was yelling, I was yelling back, Steve was trying to pull his pants on both legs at a time which only caused him to fall on the floor where he was rolling around trying to finish pulling his pants on, which wasn’t working at all because that sort of thing only works in cartoons, and to top it off I’d been about two seconds away from an orgasm so I wasn’t responding quite as reasonably as I probably should have been.

I told her that I always sleep better after sex, which I later realized possibly wasn’t the best excuse in the world.

Once Steve had departed via the window he’d come in through she calmed down somewhat. She did point out that if that were the case Steve and I should have taken care of it earlier.

I managed to refrain from telling her that I couldn’t, since I’d been having sex with Jason then. She’s pretty cool about sex, but I prefer that she not know what a slut she has for a daughter.

Well, she probably knows, but I’d rather not rub her face in it.

What she was mostly mad about was it was a school night. She’s a real stickler for curfews on school nights. On weekends I don’t have a curfew, at least not since I’d turned eighteen.

We’d fought about that for a while but that had always been what my parents had told my older brother and me when we were growing up, that until we were eighteen we had to be home when they told us to and after that we could come and go as we pleased as long as it wasn’t a school night.

When he’d turned eighteen she’d had no problem setting him free, but it had been a whole different story once I’d celebrated my eighteenth birthday.

Oddly enough, it had been Josh, my brother, who had been the cause of her finally giving in. He’d been sleeping off a hangover during a weekend home from college and my mom had been screaming at me about how late I’d come home the previous night, and I’d been screaming back, mostly just various versions of Fuck you.

He’d come storming out of his bedroom and had laid into my mom, telling her it wasn’t right that she was applying different standards for me and what kind of feminist was she if she did that.

She’d stared at him, stunned, for a couple seconds, and then turned to me and said, rather ungraciously, Fine. Do whatever you want. I give up.

Anyway, once Steve was gone and we were talking more reasonably I pointed out that now that I was an adult she should at least have the courtesy to knock first. She told me that even though I was eighteen I was far from being an adult.

She’s always saying stuff like that. I used to get away with a lot more when my dad still lived with us, but he’s currently indisposed for the next three to five years for what he called a few piddling little accounting mistakes he’d made while filing his tax returns.

It seemed he’d neglected to include the income from about half of his businesses. The judge didn’t buy his claim that he owned so many different ones, or parts of ones, that he just ‘forgot’ some.

That, combined with some questionable deductions and a few other math errors, had resulted in a serious reduction in our living standard. We weren’t poor exactly, but until he finished paying his debt to society, and the IRS, we wouldn’t be throwing many parties.

So, there I was, trudging down the street on a Monday afternoon wearing sneakers and a pair of pink and white spandex gym shorts I’d dug out of my locker along with a matching top, both of which I’d bought prior to my growth spurt.

The shorts were both low cut and cheeky, with crisscrossing laces at the sides that exposed quite a bit of hip, and on the first day of class coach Nellis had informed me that this was gym class, not a strip club.

Okay, so technically they were booty shorts with a really cute crossover bandeau top. I’d thought seniors were given a little leeway but apparently coach Nellis hadn’t read that memo.

She’d made me stay dressed and told me to bring something more appropriate the next day and had given me detention besides. I’d stuffed them in my locker and basically forgot about them.

Needless to say, while before they’d been merely sexy, they now fully qualified as indecent verging on illegal. They were tighter than a comic book super heroine’s costume, exposing half my ass and lots of cleavage along with a fair amount of under-boob.

And let’s not forget the prodigious camel toe. I looked like an eighty’s porn star. Besides the sneakers, the only thing that fit properly were a pair of white thigh-high sports socks with three pink bands at the top. They hadn’t been in my locker. I’d already been wearing them as part of my outfit of the day.

Still, if anyone saw me I could pretend I was getting some exercise, rather than walking home after school. The weather was in the low sixties, a bit chilly for a southern belle from Atlanta, but it was reasonably sunny and not too breezy, so I was comfortable enough. Normally I’d have had my pick of rides from any of a number of admirers, but I’d had detention and by the time I got out everyone had already left.

I was feeling pretty glum, and also pretty horny from the ultra-tight material rubbing against my pussy as I walked, when a cute guy in a canary yellow Porsche convertible pulled up next to me.

We checked each other out and he grinned, clearly liking what he saw.

Looking for a party?

I smiled back.

Always.

Hop in.

I climbed into the passenger seat and fastened the seatbelt.

I’m Colette.

You can call me John. I’m staying at the Chateau.

He put the car in gear before I could respond. I hoped he planned on driving me home afterwards, since the hotel he mentioned was about fifteen miles from my house, but if not, I could always call a cab. Not that I wanted to waste my allowance on cab fare, but maybe he’d pay for it.

As he drove, I realized he was a bit older than I’d originally thought. I guessed he was in his upper twenties or maybe even his early thirties, where I’d initially taken him for someone in his early twenties.

A little older than I was used to, but I’d dated boys in their mid-twenties, so he wasn’t that much older. Plus, he had a square jaw, pale grey eyes, dimples in both cheeks, and thick, golden blonde hair that curled enticingly over his forehead.

Not to mention a body that looked like he must spend half his time in a gym. I could clearly make out his firm abs beneath his light pink Polo shirt, and a very nice bulge running down his upper thigh beneath the white slacks he was wearing.

He caught me looking and grinned.

You like that, baby?

He put his hand on my thigh and ran it up to the bottom of my shorts, which I definitely liked. I thought fair was fair, so I put my hand on his thigh and ran it up his leg until it was resting on top of the bulge, which twitched and grew larger beneath my palm. I squeezed it lightly and began rubbing it to encourage it to grow some more.

Definitely.

He moved his hand over and began running his fingers up and down my camel toe, and I sighed softly and parted my legs as my nipples grew hard and my shorts began growing a moist spot beneath his fingers.

I would have moved his hand inside my shorts, but they were just too damn tight. And even I wouldn’t consider slipping out of them while driving through town in a convertible. After all, even a slut’s got to have some self-control.

By the time we were halfway there I was too. If we hadn’t been in the aforementioned convertible, I probably would have already been blowing him. Suddenly he looked at me and asked, So what do you do?

I wasn’t about to admit I was still in high school, so just replied, Oh, a little of this, a little of that. Whatever’s fun. You know how it is.

How about two hours of anything goes for a hundred roses?

Teasingly, I answered, I don’t know. For that I think I should get two hundred roses.

A hundred and fifty.

I pretended to consider it, then said, No, I’d need at least two hundred.

Are you worth it?

I lifted my sports bra for a second, giving him a good flash and a wide smile.

What do you think?

The Porsche swerved slightly as his cock twitched and swelled noticeably, and he said, All right. Two hundred.

I giggled and we went back to semi-masturbating each other until we got to the hotel. He pulled up at the entrance and turned his car over to a valet, and I followed him inside.

I got a few funny looks from some of the other guests and staff members, but I’m used to being looked at so that didn’t bother me any. Plus, even I had to admit I was dressed a little slutty for the poshest hotel in town.

Once we were in his room he began to undress. I hesitated and he looked at me.

What are you waiting for?

I was somewhat taken aback by how fast he was moving, so to stall I asked, Where are my roses?

To my surprise he took his wallet out of his slacks and handed me two crisp one hundred-dollar bills.

There. Now strip.

I goggled at the money and finally got it. He thought I was a prostitute!

For a moment I was tempted to hand it back to him and take off, but then I thought about it. I mean, I was really horny from the car ride, and it wasn’t like I hadn’t planned on fucking him. I’d very much planned on it.

And two hundred bucks was two weeks allowance for me nowadays. My mom gave me a hundred dollars a week, which was way down from the five hundred I’d gotten before my dad got busted.

Plus, I’d lost my credit card, which I’d used for essentials like gas, food, and clothes, and had to pay for those things out of my allowance. Well, my mom pays for my school clothes, but not the really sexy stuff I like.

I’d been lucky he’d put the car in my name when he’d bought it, so the Feds couldn’t take it away.

Shrugging to myself, I stuffed it in my arm pouch, along with my phone, driver’s license, (like that was doing me a lot of good lately) and the little cash I already had on me, then kicked off my sneakers and lifted my top up and off. I figured it would make a funny story to tell my friends.

As soon as I was naked, he walked over and placed a hand on top of my head, pushing me down on my knees in front of him. His cock rose up in front of my face.

It wasn’t that long, but it was thick and hard. I wrapped my hand around it and stroked it up and down a few times.

You like that, baby?

Ohhhh, yeah.

I put a little breathy moan in my response. I may not be so great at math, something I apparently inherited from my father, but I know what boys like.

I suspected I’d inherited that from my mom, who’d been a former centerfold for TopKat magazine until she’d landed a rich husband. Well, rich until he’d landed himself in a federal prison.

Show me what you can do with it.

I didn’t have to be told twice. I cupped his ball sac in one hand and began licking his glans, first tickling it with my tongue and then working my way lower, making sure everything was nice and wet by the time I reached his balls.

I gave them a tongue bath before sucking them into my mouth, licking them again, enjoying the heavy, full feeling of them, then slowly opened my mouth and let them pop back out.

Once I’d licked my way up to the top of his cock again, I opened my mouth wide, slid it inside, and after wrapping my lips tightly around the shaft began sucking while moving my head back and forth.

No hands. Put them behind your back.

I clasped my hands behind my back, and he slid his cock out of my mouth. Holding the base with his hand, he slapped my cheek with it.

Are you a good girl?

Giggling, I answered, When I have to be.

Swinging his dick with more force, he slapped my other cheek.

Are you a good girl?

Yes!

Yes, sir!

Giggling harder, I replied, Yes, sir! This was turning out to be fun!

How good are you?

Very good.

Open your mouth. Wider.

I stretched my mouth as wide as I could and he shoved his cock inside it, grabbed my head with both hands, and began violently fucking my mouth.

Every time his cock head rammed into the back of my throat I made a glug sound. I could feel tears running down my cheeks and instinctively tried to use my hands to push him away. He slapped my face, hard, with one palm.

Put your hands behind your back, slut!

Hastily I did as he commanded, and he went back to fucking my mouth. I’ve never mastered the art of deep throating someone, and as his cock kept slamming my tonsils I started gagging.

When I felt like I was going to throw up I moved my hands from behind my back and placed them on his thighs, pushing him away.

Please! I can’t.

He stared at me for a few moments with empty eyes and for the first time I felt a little afraid. Oddly, the fear seemed to get me more excited. Before I could think about that he blinked, and the spell was broken.

Fuck. Get on the bed.

He took me hard, punishing me, placing me on the edge of the mattress on my back and holding my feet up in the air by my ankles as he shoved that fat cock inside me. He didn’t start off slow, but as soon as he was all the way in, he began pounding me with forceful strokes that made my boobs bounce and swing with every thrust.

I cupped them in my hands and played with my nipples as I gasped and moaned in rhythm with the noise his balls made as they slapped against my ass cheeks.

Talk to me, bitch. Do you like that?

Oh, God yes! I cried out as he continued plunging his cock in and out of my wet, willing twat.

Tell me how much.

I was slightly stymied. I don’t usually talk during sex, other than moaning a series of Ohs as I’m being fucked, and occasionally calling out Oh, God! or Oh yeah!

I’ve heard girls talking dirty while they’re being fucked in porn videos but hadn’t ever done it myself. For one thing I find it difficult to concentrate when I’m engaging in my favorite activity.

A lot! I love it!

Apparently, that wasn’t what he was looking for, because he began slamming his cock into me harder and faster for a couple seconds before resuming his previous steady pace. Then he draped one of my ankles over his shoulder and reached down, shoving my hand off my left breast. Wrapping his own hand around it he squeezed it roughly and twisted it, which hurt like hell but also got me hotter for some reason.

Fucking talk to me, bitch.

I thought about staying silent to see if he’d fuck me harder, but then decided that, after all, he was paying for my pleasure, so I racked my brain, trying to remember what the porn actresses said.

Fuck baby, your cock feels so good! You’re tearing my pussy apart! Fuck me with that big cock, fuck my little pussy until I cum all over you.

He smiled slightly.

That’s better. More.

Fuck yeah baby, you like that pussy? Is it tight enough for you?

Hell yeah.

I’m still in high school. Does that turn you on, fucking a little high school slut?

His pace faltered for a second and I repressed a smile as he paled slightly.

How fucking old are you?

Eighteen. You’re fucking a genuine eighteen-year-old pussy baby. Come on, fuck me harder, you fuck me so good.

He smiled again and started plowing me harder, speeding up until I was right on the verge of cumming. Suddenly he pulled out.

Suck me.

I sat up and practically crammed his cock inside my mouth, fastening my lips around his shaft and sucking until my cheeks caved in. Moving my head rapidly back and forth I stared up at him. Suddenly he pulled out again.

On the bed. Hands and knees.

I scrambled to comply. I love doggy style, and the way it makes the cocks feel like they’re driving even deeper into me as I’m getting fucked. I don’t even mind a little ass slapping, which was a good thing, because almost as soon as his cock was in me my ‘date’ began slapping my ass like I was a horse he was trying to goad toward the finish line. I laughed and squealed as his hands reddened my flesh and his balls slapped my pussy.

You like that, don’t you bitch?

Fuck yeah! Ride me, baby! Ride me hard! Fuck my teenage cunt!

He must have really liked that, because he gripped my hips and granted my wish, pumping his cock in and out of me so hard I was grunting and gasping as I felt my orgasm approaching again.

I figured he’d want to hear about it, so I began crying out, Oh, God, fuck baby, I’m gonna cum, I’m cumming baby, I’m gonna cum all over your fat cock!

Plus, I hoped if he knew I was on the verge he wouldn’t stop like he had the previous time. It worked, because he started fucking me even harder and then I was grunting, and my body was shaking as my mind took a little vacation for a couple of seconds. Vaguely I could hear myself shouting Ahhhh! over and over as my insides turned to pudding and ripples of pleasure spread out from my core.

As soon as I was finished ‘John’ pulled out and began rubbing his cock up and down my anus.

NO!

I felt his cock whack my ass a couple of times and there was definite frustration in his voice when he said, Fuck! You don’t deep throat, you don’t do anal. What can you do?

Glancing at the bedside clock I noticed only about fifty minutes had passed.

Come on, baby, we can still have a good time. Get on the bed and let me do you for a while. I promise I’ll make you feel real good.

Jesus Christ.

He climbed on the bed and reclined against the pillows, then watched me wordlessly, waiting. I decided to try something I’d been thinking about ever since my breasts had ballooned but hadn’t gotten around to yet. Cupping them in my hands, I tweaked my nipples and smiled at him.

You like these, baby? Would you like to fuck them?

His grin told me I’d hit on a good plan. I straddled him, bending down until my breasts were pressing into his hips and his cock was cradled in between them. I squeezed them together as I began moving my body back and forth, but his cock wasn’t sliding as easily as I’d assumed it would.

Raising myself a little I slid lower until my mouth was poised above his cock, then gave it the best licking of my lifetime. I even spit on it a couple of times, which was something else I’d never considered doing before. As I began to move back up his body, he slid out from under me.

Get on your back.

I took his place, resting my head on the pillows, as he straddled me. As I squeezed my breasts together again, he slid his cock in between them and began thrusting his pelvis backward and forward. Staring up at him, I asked, Is this better, baby?

"Lower your head and open your mouth.