Nadine, Nadine vignette 1

by Gabriella Webster

  Table of Contents

  Foreword

  On the back

  ***Nadine***

  About the Author

  Acknowledgements

  Contact Me

  Nadine

  An Erotic Vignette

  By Gabriella Webster

  (All characters depicted herein are consenting adults.)

  Copyright 2014 Gabriella Webster

  This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be resold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return it and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  This is a work of fiction. The persons, places, things, and otherwise animate or inanimate objects mentioned in this novel are figments of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to anything or anyone living (or dead) is unintentional.

  This book is protected under the copyright laws of the United States of America. Any reproduction or other unauthorized use of the material or artwork herein is prohibited.

  Foreword

  Thank you for picking up a copy of “Nadine.” It was great fun working on this story, and I hope you enjoy your read!

  This vignette contains hot consensual sex between a handsome angel and an out-of-work nurse.

  The model depicted on the cover of this erotic vignette is not affiliated with the author, nor do they endorse the story within.

  Thank you,

  Gabriella Webster

  On the back

  Nadine’s life is turned upside down when she loses her job as a nurse in a local urgent care facility. Months later, after all other options have failed, she turns to prostitution as a last-ditch effort to keep a roof over her head. The work is tolerable. The men adequate. Until one night Nadine’s angel appears.

  Will he sweep her off her feet like he’s promised, or is he just like all the other johns?

  *This is the first vignette between Nadine and her angel.

  These vignettes are erotic glimpses into Nadine’s life and the life of her angel.

  Blush Warning : 18+ explicit sex depicted between consenting humans and non-humans.

  Nadine is a 6500 word erotic vignette.

  ***Nadine***

  The cheap industrial carpet on the floor of Nadine’s rented efficiency apartment bit into her knees. Yet it was the nicest of all her current discomforts. If pressed, she would have admitted that, at the moment, the large cock ramming the back of her throat had to be the worst. A woman has be paid to do something, she thought sadly.

  “Look at me,” the man—john, trick, whatever—said to her through clenched teeth. He gripped the base of his cock in one hand and the back of her head with the other, guiding her up and down his shaft the way he liked.

  This john was a regular. A repeat customer. Regulars were appreciated. It made knowing how to please them so much easier.

  Nadine tried her best to raise her eyes to meet his. Not an easy thing while bobbing up and down on a large cock. Her palms rested against his thighs, her thumbs grazing his sac at the crease. He groaned. “Fuck, Lynn. I wanna come on your face.”

  She moaned her approval, and tried to nod. She didn’t care how he finished as long as he did. Soon, too, if it wasn’t too much trouble. Her jaw ached.

  “You look so beautiful with your lips around my cock,” he murmured and let his head fall backward.

  He was close. Really close.

  Thank God!

  Nadine worked harder. The distinctive taste of pre-cum coated her tongue.

  “Fuck,” he growled, shoving his dick farther down her throat, and she struggled not to gag. Regretfully, it had taken turning tricks for Nadine to learn how to deep-throat. It was a skill a few of her former boyfriends would have enjoyed.

  What has my life come to? She groaned. Discouraged.

  The john mistook the noise as further approval, and he pounded into her harder. The first splash of cum hit the back of her throat, and she swallowed as the john pulled free of her mouth with a small pop.

  He pumped his hand down his cock, milking it, and she closed her eyes as more semen splashed on her face. He finished with a growl, and tapped her lips with the crown of his cock.

  When it was clear he was finished, she opened her eyes. He’d already pulled up his pants and tucked himself inside, when their gazes met. “Fuck, Lynn. I love looking at myself on you.” He stepped back, and fished his wallet out from his back pocket. “Damn. It looks good.”

  Nadine couldn’t believe it. He had that hungry I-want-more look again. He had better pay for regular sex this time. She didn’t think she could perform another blow job for him so soon after the last one. He really was that big, or her mouth really was that small.

  He pulled a bill out and tossed it to the ground in front of her. He then walked to the door and stopped. “Next week,” he said over his shoulder.

  She smiled. “Anytime. You know my number.”

  “Be ready, sugar.”

  “I will be.”

  “Good.” Then he walked out the door, closing it softly behind him.

  She slumped in relief. Regulars. It was good to have them.

  Nadine sighed again, and retrieved the tip from the floor. A twenty. Heh. She stood and made her way to the tiny bathroom where she kept a small metal lockbox at the back of a drawer in the vanity. She shoved the bill into it. She’d clean up first, then take the time to secure the cash before going out to look for more work.

  Splashing water on her face, she washed off her smeared makeup and the client’s cum. She patted her face dry and gazed at her reflection. “Nadine, are you sure you did everything you could? Are you sure this was the only answer?” It wasn’t the first time she’d questioned her choices in life. It wasn’t like she’d wanted to be a prostitute. But now… The money was good enough to live on and she wasn’t on the streets turning tricks in alleyways. Her head fell forward to land against the mirror with a thud.

  She had tried everything, hadn’t she? She hadn’t given up too early, had she? She hadn’t settled, right? Nadine sighed. “No, you did all you could,” she told herself, needing to believe her decision to sell sex had been a last ditch effort to keep her real apartment. The one on the edge of North City. The one she went home to after working each night. The miniscule roach-infested, one-bedroom place in a dicey neighborhood, sandwiched between the really bad parts of St. Louis and the I’m-doing-a-damn-good-job-at-being-bad parts of town just south of it.

  She rolled her head side to side, and then thumped it against the glass.

  If it hadn’t been for the new administration at her urgent care facility, she’d still have a job. But, no! They had needed to set an example. Needed to put their employees in their places. The new managers had been flush with power and had enacted several new policies. One of these new rules regarded patient records. The new paperwork was time consuming, repetitive, and irritating, but everyone had agreed; it was necessary. Then one day, Nadine had forgotten to file a form. Just one form. And she hadn’t been the only one. All three of the “offending” employees had been let go. Blacklisted. Never to work as nurses again. Nadine didn’t know what to do. She’d neve
r been anything else.

  Nadine groaned. In one unilateral decision by management, she had gone from gainfully employed to banned. She’d broken the rules, yes—accidentally—but it wasn’t fair to punish her so severely. It wasn’t as if she killed a patient. It was paperwork, for God’s sake. Paperwork that never had been needed before! So she had left nursing and tried her hand at a few retail jobs, but they didn’t pay the rent. After receiving a final warning and facing eviction, she’d turned to the oldest profession.

  Prostitution… Mom would be so proud, she thought sarcastically. Good thing Mom wasn’t around to see her precious Nadine’s fall from grace. Rest in peace, Mom.

  It wasn’t fair.

  “Life’s not fair, little girl. Suck it up.” Nadine pulled away from the mirror. After brushing her teeth, she began reapplying her makeup. She had an appointment with another regular in two hours, but she wouldn’t be able to pay rent if she didn’t go out there and find some new business. Thank God for the agreement with the landlord of this shitty efficiency she used to turn her tricks. He let her rent it for next to nothing and a free poke once a month. Without it, she’d have to bring the clients back to her real apartment, and that was a recipe for disaster. She’d turn those tricks in the alleyway before she’d let her johns know where she lived. As it was, they often turned up there uninvited.

  Nadine stretched her lips wide to apply her lipstick, then blotted them. She checked the application. Good enough. Not like the johns give a fuck anyway. She squared her shoulders and squinted at her reflection. Was that a cum stain on her shirt? She rolled her eyes. The. Johns. Don’t. Care! “Dear God, make me a bird so I can fly far, far away,” she chanted, quoting one of her all-time favorite movies. She’d gladly be a bird if it meant leaving all this behind.

  “God—as you know him—cannot hear you,” a man said.

  Her eyes flew to the mirror. Who was in her apartment? She cursed her stupidity. She hadn’t locked the door after the prior trick left.

  Nadine whipped around to face the newcomer. He had to be the most gorgeous man to ever grace her crappy efficiency. Her gaze traveled from his nicely shined shoes, up his gray tailored pants, to his pressed white business shirt. He towered over her, which was saying a lot. He had to be at least a full foot taller than her measly height of five-nine. And, boy, was he built. Not in the hi-I’m-a-bodybuilder-and-look-gross way, but in the hi-I-like-to-do-sports-lots-of-sports way. His square jaw was covered in day-old stubble, and he had the palest blue eyes she’d ever seen.

  Spectacular.

  A lock of his black curly hair fell into his left eye. He swept it back with one hand and grinned at her.

  Holy shit! That smile would melt any woman’s panties off. Good thing she wasn’t wearing any. But why was he here? With his good looks, one visit to a bar and he wouldn’t need her. He’d get all the milk for free.

  Then she saw why. Nadine swallowed hard.

  Another john with elaborate fantasies. She shook her head in disbelief.

  He had wings. Fluffy, white, downy wings!

  This man took time with his angel costume. The wings looked real, not at all like those cardboard cutouts with white chicken feathers pasted on. These wings had no visible straps. They must be attached with a harness under his shirt. “Come back later,” Nadine demanded. She could only handle one high-maintenance john a night.

  “How much?”

  For the love of God, really? “Not tonight. Come back tomorrow.”

  “I am not complicated,” he promised. “How much?”

  “Are you serious?” she asked, incredulous. She’d just told him to get out.

  “I am,” he replied with a shrug.

  Did his wings just move?

  The man looked around her small room and then to the bed. Slowly, he returned his gaze to her. She knew that look. He was serious.

  Nadine cocked her head to the side, considering. He was attractive, and more importantly, he was here. She wouldn’t have to walk the street tonight to find a new client. He better not be one of those bondage types. Not on the first trick, anyway.

  “How did you find me? Did someone send you?”

  “Yes.”

  “Who?” If she knew who recommended her, maybe she’d know if she could trust him or not.

  “John.”

  Nadine snickered in dismay, and muttered, “They’re all named John.” Louder, she asked, “Who sent you, really?”

  “John,” he replied. “From the Air Force base.” His sexy grin faded a bit. “If you do not wish my patronage, I will go elsewhere.”

  “No.” She couldn’t turn away a referral from the base. Soldiers were good money, and word would get around if she turned him away. Besides, it wasn’t like this was her first high fantasy client. Just the first one with fluffy wings. She plastered on her biggest, brightest smile. “Don’t go.”

  His smirk returned. “Excellent. How much?”

  “Twenty-five for a hand job. Fifty for oral, seventy-five if you want completion that way. A hundred for regular sex—condom is mandatory. I won’t budge on that. Any kinks or other turn-ons I handle on a per request basis,” Nadine replied. “Oh, and no anal,” she added. He seemed the type.

  “Really? Why?”

  Yep. He was the type.

  “It hurts and the johns—er, clients aren’t always gentle,” she explained.

  The man nodded. “Fair enough.” He gazed at her for a moment, deciding. “Oral and sex it is, then.”

  “Hundred-fifty,” she acknowledged, then added, “Up front.” Who knew if this guy would really pay?

  He held out two bills.

  She blinked.

  When had he taken the money out of his wallet? She didn’t remember seeing him move. It was as if he willed it into existence. Nadine took the cash from his outstretched hand, and retreated into the bathroom. Holding the bills up to the overhead light, she checked for the security strip embedded along the edge. You could never be too careful.

  After confirming their authenticity, she faced him. “I’m guessing you want to start with oral. Would you rather stand or use the bed?”

  “You go ahead and sit on the bed. I’m sure your knees could use a break.”

  Nadine nodded and perched on the edge of the mattress. Curling her finger, she beckoned him closer. “Lose the wings,” she ordered. They’d only get in the way.

  He kicked off his shoes and padded forward in his socks. “I cannot,” he replied as he stopped in front of her.

  “Can’t? Or won’t?”

  “Cannot,” he reiterated.

  Okay. Maybe they were too complicated to just take off.

  Nadine stood, and slowly teased the buttons of his shirt open, exposing a beautifully sculpted chest with the barest hint of chest hair. Her fingers fluttered over his skin and down his abdomen. He sure took care of himself physically, nothing like most of her johns.

  Nadine showered his chest in a rain of light kisses, something she would have done if they were in a committed relationship. It was one of the reasons why she had more repeat business than her competition. She learned what would make the johns feel—even for a moment—that they were wanted, and then gave them what they needed every time they bought her services. This drive to make sure her clients felt special was also why she did oral sex without a condom. The nurse in her balked at how dangerous it was to perform a blow job without protection for herself—the ick factor alone made her want to use them—but the possibility of repeat business outweighed the risks.

  The man shivered at her attention, and something told her it wouldn’t be hard to fake caring about this john. She
flicked his hardening nipple with her tongue, and he sucked a breath in sharply. Yep, not hard at all to pretend for him. He was one of those sensitive types. She was going to have fun with this one. “Turn around.”

  He complied, and Nadine eased the nicely pressed shirt off his shoulders. The reason why he couldn’t just take the wings off became clear as the shirt fell away from his back, and she smiled wryly. The lengths some people go to satisfy their fantasies. Tossing the shirt to the floor, Nadine looked again. Her fingers traced where his wings joined his back, near his shoulder blades. No straps. No mechanisms. Nothing to hold the wings to his body. Not even a ridge under the skin to indicate machinery.

  Grafted?

  He really had paid a lot to indulge in his fetish. She lightly brushed along the seam. The wings blended into his back perfectly. In the span of a few inches, the plumage morphed into smooth skin, not even a scar to show where the surgery took place. “Your cosmetic surgeon did an excellent job.”

  “Excuse me?” he inquired, sounding perplexed.

  She understood. He wanted them to be real. It was a part of the act. She could do this. The wings weren’t that bad. She dropped the subject.

  When she didn’t answer his question, he asked again, “What did you mean by cosmetic surgeon?”

  “Oh, just they did a good job on the wings. I don’t even see any scarring from where they were added.”

  “No, you would not,” he replied. “I was born with them.”

  Of course, saying anything less would destroy the illusion. “May I touch them?”

  “Please,” he whispered, desire tinging the words.