Girls Read Free

“Well, I think there’s been a mistake — I asked for something else.”
    She shrugs her shoulders. “Fine,” she says. “They can send up someone else. No problem.” Without another look at you, she turns and heads off down the corridor. You watch her go, notice how tiny her ass is, how even through her skirt the dimples on either side of it are visible, how the material seems to be draped over bobbing stone. As she walks towards the elevator she begins to play some game with the pattern on the rug, stepping on only certain colors, avoiding others, almost toppling herself.
    You are shaking. She is so close to being yours. This isn’t some Catholic schoolgirl on a bus, this isn’t some girl to look at and think, “Damn, if only that were legal,” and shake your head and not give it a second thought because it is illegal and you don’t want to take the risk and what would you, could you, do anyway — you are in public. This is a hooker. This time, in this case, you only need to say the word and she can be yours. You could have your hands on her body, your mouth on the back of her neck, on her nipples, your cock inside her as her inner thighs rubbed against your pelvis, as her hands pressed down on your chest, as her upper arms squeezed her firm little breasts together, as she tossed her hair to one side of her head and looked down into your eyes and said with that tiny, pert little mouth in her accentless English, “That’s it. Fuck me.” You look up and down the hall. It is empty. “Wait a minute,” you call out. And without a pause, without a lost step, she turns and walks back to your room and walks through your door without even looking at you. You find yourself thinking, “This probably isn’t even illegal here anyway — the age of consent here is probably fifteen or sixteen — she could even be seventeen or eighteen.” And you close the door behind you.
    You want to devour her. You can’t get enough of her in your mouth — her neck, her arms, her belly. You could eat her pussy for hours. With your girlfriend you always did it out of fairness. She went down on you so you went down on her or you wanted her to go down on you so you went down on her. You don’t mind it — you know some guys who don’t like to do it but do it anyway for the same reason you do — no, you don’t mind it, but it never turned you on like this. All you can think about is having her in your mouth. You make her lie back on the bed, spread her arms out on the bed, and just let you pull her pussy to your mouth. Beneath your hands, the skin on her thighs is so smooth it makes you think of fax paper. You can feel the calluses on your palms scraping it as you hold her legs. You hear your stubble scratch against her right leg. Worried you might hurt her, you push her legs farther open. The tendons on her inner thighs flex out like little steel cables and where they end, where they push out the farthest forming little cups of skin above and below, the mound of her pussy drops down towards her ass. She has shaved herself completely bare, you hope that’s what she’s done, and the slit between her legs is so delicate it looks like someone has cut her with a scalpel. Carefully, gently, you pull the slit open with your fingertips revealing the folds of tan flesh inside. You never noticed how clumsy your fingers were before, how enormous, how ugly. Like a gorilla’s, you find yourself thinking. You look at her spread open like that for a second, like a sea creature, like an anemone in that moment it reaches out to swallow a fish, and then you glance up her body. She isn’t moving, she stares at the ceiling, you can’t see her face. Then you put your mouth on her. For a second you are relieved to feel the odd piece of stubble pricking your lips. For a second you wonder if your girlfriend would shave herself like this. And then you are lost.
    Suddenly she taps you on the shoulder, taps you on the shoulder as if you were in a