Brothel: The Magnolia Diaries

by Anthology

  Two hours later, we are hotly debating Iron Man versus Captain America as I ride the elevator to my place. I am laughing and flirting. Again. I like him. I know he likes me. I don't...do this. Whatever this is. This is new to me and I know I need to stop. I make a call to Marcus because I only know one way to do that. Thank Hades, he approves.

  When I step back into Magnolia House that night, it feels different. I'm doing it for a different reason. I booked something for tonight that I hope stops this shit in its tracks. I don't like guys. I mean, obviously I like parts of them. The parts I can use. Nothing more. When I head for the room the client booked for tonight, I try to remember that.

  I don't have a lot of rules here. I do more than one at a time. Couples too. I'll even join one of the other girls if it's requested. I love the freedom of not having to think. Just doing and feeling and getting that big 'O' that I don't owe to anyone. That I bought and paid for when I let them do what they want to me. Tonight, I'm looking for a few O's and a lot less questions than the past weeks have offered me.

  "Evening, princess." Calico smirks as I pass her, heading towards the hall of themed rooms.

  "Ready for this? I got some shit to work out. Guess two dicks and a pussy is what it's going to take." Calico just laughs and reaches a tattoo covered hand out to touch my face.

  "We aim to please. Magnolia is all about working shit out, princess." A look is shared between us but neither of us needs to elaborate.

  Anticipation darts through me as I step into the room. It's dark but bright lines of lights line the walls. Up some and across the other, along the ceiling. Even along the floor. They glow bright blue and everything in the room is stark white. In one corner, a pole runs from floor to ceiling atop a low, square glowing platform. Stripper pole in the corner of a techy Tron-like room. It's mean but it needs to be done.

  Crossing the room to the glass desktop against one wall, I cue up some music. Even meaner. Bell Biv DeVoe fills the room. I cringe, wondering if this is too far. Not caring because I know I can't. I angle all the cameras just right. This fuck fest is going viral. Bonus, both we always make more than even Caming on the webisodes we all post.

  Short porn videos with no continuing story line. An anthology of fucking, if you will. Our clients sign a waiver but most of them are so god damned excited to be fucking on film, they don't care. A regular books at least one of these a month. He thinks he's a fucking star. Different chick, different room every time. I knew I could count on him tonight. Was all too pleased to bring along a friend when Nicolette called him to arrange it.

  The music is blaring when they enter the room. Calico has agreed to join us, which has them excited as shit, apparently. After the business portion is taken care of, we get down to the pleasure. Calico joins me on the stage as both guys, our regular brought us a super hot friend I'm pleased to see, sit back and watch. We dance for a while, the cameras catching all of it.

  "Pretend we're not here, Brookie." I cringed at Porn Stud's pet name; always hate when he uses it.

  "I thought we were?" I smirk before pressing my back against the pole, yanking Calico to me.

  I press her back to my front, both of us still moving. My hands move to her tits and I grope their fullness before yanking her bra aside. My fingers move over her pierced nipples, tugging and rolling as I dip my face into her neck. I suck and bite at her skin, tracing the many tattoos adorning her skin. The guy's have yanked their cocks out, sheathed them and are stroking away.

  Calico shimmies her ass against me and then she tips back, kissing me lewdly. Plenty of tongue, lots of teeth. We moan together, my hands full of her tits, hers pressing between my thighs. I glance once at the camera capturing it all then do my best to ignore it. The guys stand when Calico motions towards them. We drop to our knees and make quick work of their clothes.

  "Open up, baby." Porn Stud keeps one eye on us as both of us swallow cock; the other trains on the camera. He loves to play it up.

  I pump my hand around his dick, slap his ass then sink a finger in his ass. He loves it and I know he likes it rough. My head is yanked back and Calico's hands are all over me. I'm naked and I don't remember it happening. I feel lips at my skin between sounds of her sucking New Guy's cock. I'm heated between my legs and I know I need more. I let Porn Stud's dick slip out of my mouth with a pop.

  "You're going to take both of us, baby. While you eat her pretty cunt. On the bed." We crawl to the bed, both of us rewarded with a smack at our ass.

  Calico backs up onto the fluffy bed. I follow. Her legs spread open and her hands go to her tits, tugging at the barbells there. I aim myself between her legs and go to work. Porn Stud's hot New Guy angles himself beneath me just enough that he doesn't get in the way. Then without warning, he drives deep inside me.

  "Oh shit. You're a big boy." I shift my hips to accept him because he's fucking huge.

  "Take it all, princess." Calico growls as I rub furiously at her clit and begin licking.

  "That's right. Take it all princess." A mouth latches onto my nipples and I know it's New Guy.

  Cool stickiness hits my ass and I know its lube. New Guy shoves my knees up on either side of him, offering my ass to Porn Stud. I let go of Calico's pussy long enough to angle a look back at him. Warning him because he gets so caught up, he hurts me. Not my bag of tricks. I cry out as he presses forward slow, watching the damn camera capturing it all.

  They pick up a rhythm that has my body rocking against Calico's. I grasp her thighs both for support and to keep her spread open. I focus on making her come because I know the guys will take care of me. Calico's hand tangles in my hair as she thrusts her hips. I shove a hand between us and press two fingers inside her, pumping to match the pace the men are driving into me with.

  It's hot as fuck.

  I should have come twice by now. It's right there, within my grasp. Every time I see the camera, it inches away. I stop looking. The guys thrust harder and faster, Porn Stud slapping my ass harder and yanking at my hair. New Guy is licking at my skin, tugging and biting at my nipples. I crest an orgasm just as I feel Calico reaching hers. Fucking finally.

  "Oh fuck. Lick it, princess. Fuck. Yes." I have Calico spread over my face as she pumps her hips, pressing me into her pussy as she comes.

  "Fuck yeah, make her come. That's hot as fuck. Kiss her, let her taste how sweet her pussy is." Calico shoots me a look but both guys stop fucking me long enough to let us tongue it out.

  It doesn't take long after that for them both to come, New Guy biting marks into my tits that will cost him later. Porn Stud watches the playback with a smirk and I know he'll be back again soon. Calico and I shower together after demanding a hike in price for the dirty kiss and the marks at my skin. The guys pay readily and I know New Guy won't be new for long. Bonus.

  Three hours later, Nicolette has edited it and we're uploading it to the site. It's some hot shit and I have to hope it serves its purpose. Besides getting both of us off, and netting us 5k a piece, I want someone specific to view it. I don't know how to be sure he does. I can't just tell him. That's too obvious. Looks too much like I'm trying to upset him. I mean, I am of course. Don't want it to look like that.

  I am just crawling into bed when my phone rings. I have no clients tonight but I don't intend to go back home. Anytime soon, if I can help it. I groan when I see who's calling. Of course, it's him. Can't just shoot me a "Fuck you, Whore" text? He's a masochist.

  "Yes, Tech Boy?" I purr as if I don't know why he's calling.

  "Poison. Nice touch, Brooke. Why don't you open your schedule? Call me back." Dial tone.

  Frowning, I dig my laptop out and pull up my schedule. Nothing. I call down to Nicolette to confirm I don't have a client for the next three weeks. Before I can, I watch as appointment after appointment is added in. Elijah Lamont. Elijah Lamont. Elijah Lamont. Three times a day, for the next three weeks. I laugh out loud. Then I get angry; he's fucking with my income. With me. With my fucking life.

 
Before I call him back, I go to watch the video. Except, there is no video. It's gone. I saw it there just an hour ago, and now it's gone. Fuck. Tech boy, you devious fuck you. Bringing my knees against my chest, I call him back. I don't know if I should be livid or not. I'm not. I try to be. I was. Now, I'm just not.

  "No one else will see that video, Brooke. Because you did it for me. Didn't you? So, it's fucking mine. Book a client. Until I have you, I'll just fucking cancel it. I get you first." I bite back a smirk and try to sound detached. It's not easy.

  "Elijah. I'm a whore. It's what I do. Let me do what I do. I will fuck you just like I do the rest. No need to try to ruin me." I consider that last statement and wonder if that's exactly what he intends to do.

  "No. I get you first. Tomorrow. End of story." I start to hang up the phone before I ask a question.

  "Superman or Batman?" Elijah chuckles and I join and then we talk for the rest of the night.

  I am. So. Fucked.

  Chapter Four

  Brooke

  Nervousness is not something I know much about. I speak my mind, I never lie and I take what I want. Why get nervous about shit? You want a job, you go into an interview and sell yourself. Marcus taught me that. Quite literally in fact. Someone pisses you off? Tell that bitch. What's the worst that can happen? My first night here, I was nervous. I knew I wanted it but still. I mean, becoming a whore? In the south? Breaking the law and risking it all just to get off? It's terrifying. Exhilarating. Life altering.

  "Brooke," Nicolette sing-songs when I pick up the phone, "Your Noon. Five o'clock and eight o'clock client is here." I laugh as I tell her to send him up.

  Why the fuck am I nervous? I do this shit all the time. Daily. Multiple times a day. I don't know why Elijah is so persistent. Why he had to go to these lengths. He knows what I do. Who I am. It's not like he's Richard Fucking Gere, here to sweep me off my fucking balcony. Let me shop on Rodeo Drive. I wouldn't want that even if that's what he was offering. What, exactly, is he offering?

  Elijah steps into the room. Smiling from ear to ear, that backpack dangling at his shoulders. Dressed in dark wash jeans, those untied Chucks and a fitted fleece. Shit he looks good. Better than I remember. I'm toned down tonight; black skinny jeans paired with a scoop neck sweater. Nothing else. Elijah closes the door and when he clicks the lock in place, my heartbeat ratchets up.

  "I brought something for you." Elijah sounds nervous and I think it's cute. Mostly because I'm nervous too.

  I sink into the chaise at the end of my bed, waiting. Watching. Wanting. Elijah crouches and I realize he's a lot more muscled than his sweatshirt and jacket let me see last time. Not big but solid. His muscled back and thick legs flex as he digs into his bag. Twisting while still in a crouch, he smirks at me. Holding up a bottle of whisky, he seems triumphant.

  "What do you have there, Tech Boy?" Their names; I never use their names unless they ask me to. It keeps that wall between us. I give them nicknames but his feels like I'm saying his name.

  "For you, beautiful." Elijah lithely rises, his shirt lifting and exposing a taut belly. Shit. He's sexy.

  "Whisky. Elijah..." The bottle he holds is almost as sexy as he is.

  Glen Grant. Fifty-year-old scotch, amber gold. It runs about fifteen grand a bottle. My eyes flash up to his face. Elijah is smirking as he stands over me. His teeth come out at his bottom lip. A hand holds the whisky out to me, the other shoving his glasses up. I raise my hand to take it, my fingers shaking. Before I can say anything, he twists to the bar resting against the wall. When he returns, he has two tumblers full of ice. Setting them on either side of me, he crouches again.

  "Open it, Brooke." My head shakes because I want to keep it. Not because it's pricey. Because he gave it to me. How fucking foolish is that?

  "No... no... it’s too..." Elijah smirks and shoves between my legs, shoving them open wider.

  "Yes, precious. I am drinking this with you tonight. Every drop. Off your soft skin, from that sweetness between your thighs, off those beautiful tits and for damn sure that sexy fucking mouth. Open up, precious." Well hello, sexy as fuck Tech Boy.

  With shaking fingers, I uncork the top and do as I'm told. Elijah wraps his hands around mine, bringing it to my lips. Tipping it back, the sweet heat burns my throat, a few drops spilling at the corners of my lips. Elijah groans and moves, licking them away. Then he pours us both a drink. Still crouched in front of me, he lifts his in the air. Mine has exactly three ice cubes. My thighs ache and my pussy is soaked.

  We both down the drink. I watch the column of his neck work as he swallows. Sexy. How did my nerdy Tech Boy who was at first just High School hot become so sexy? Damn. Elijah watches me as I watch him. It's quiet in the room; I feel like he can hear my pulse thrumming. The ice clinks in the glasses as he takes them away. Setting them on the floor, he lifts closer.

  "You...are so fucking beautiful. I can't get you out of my head. I know it's not the same for you. I know it can't be. I know you get paid to pretend. Tonight...I don't want you to pretend. I want you so bad, Brooke. If you don't want me, truly want me to have you, I don't want you to pretend you do. I know it's just tonight. I know all your rules, precious. I won't break them. Unless you want me to." I frown as his hands circle my ankles.

  "Which rules do you mean? Why don't you want me to pretend? That's what you paid for, right?" My voice turns bitter but he expects it.

  "Oh, precious. No. I paid for your attention. For time with you. I want to fuck you. I want to feel you come and see it in your beautiful fucking eyes. I don't want you to pretend you want it if you don't. I'll go without having you. I know you don't allow yourself to really feel with clients. I've watched you. Only rule I want to break...." My eyes flutter when he presses close, his mouth hot against mine.

  "I want to taste you. I want to kiss you and show you that you won't need to pretend with me. It's different...you and me. Different. I feel it right now. I think you do too." Now his hands and those long fingers are sliding up my calves. I feel naked. Exposed. Raw and bare to him. Fully clothed.

  "You want to kiss me? Even if you know what I do with this mouth?" I try to lighten the moment but he refuses.

  "Brooke, you never kiss them. Too intimate for you. I told you. I've watched you." That should creep me out but it softens something inside me instead.

  "Why? Why me?" I murmur as his hands smooth over my knees, yanking at them to bring me against his front.

  "Why not you? You are sexy, mouthy, difficult, beautiful and brilliant. I don't know all the parts of you and maybe I never will. I'd like to. I know you won't break that rule for me, though. I look at you and I feel...." My hands were wrapped tight around the edge of the chaise but he yanks at one.

  "What are you..." I think he's going to shove my hand to his dick, show me how hot I get him.

  "Everything." Whispered against my lips, the word feels like a grenade.

  Then he presses my hand to his chest. Beneath my fingertips, his heart pounds, he shudders a little at the contact and I want to break all my rules. Just like that.

  "I am a whore." For the first time ever, that truth shames me as I bow my head.

  "Most people are. For different things. Different ways, reasons. Doesn't change what I feel about you." My eyes flicker to his, seeing the darkness in them unwavering, watching me with softness I don't deserve.

  "Which is what, exactly?" I watch his eyes. Feel his heart kick up as his fingers weave through mine, pressing our hands harder against his chest.

  "Not tonight. That would break all your rules. Back to the most important one. Can I kiss you tonight, precious?" The husky plea feels less like the grenade he tossed earlier and more like a tank rolling over me.

  "Yes. I want you to." Elijah's head falls against mine and he lets out a sound. One that rips through me and puts me back in different order.

  Then he does. No build up, no slow seduction. His head tilts and he's kissing me. I lose my breath, as well as a chunk of wh
o I was before he walked in. The hands we had clasped together at his chest move. Mine shifts to thread through that thick, unruly hair. His comes up to cup the back of my neck. Then his tongue traces the seam of my mouth and I open to him. Completely. More than he can possibly realize.

  I let out a sound that starts in my belly and erupts from the back of my throat. Elijah tastes like licorice and whisky and something bigger. Scary. I kiss him back, yanking at his hair, my knees closing at his ribs. Tugging him closer. Elijah snakes his other arm around me and lifts me against him. Then he's crawling over the chase, onto the bed behind it. The kiss never breaks. It just grows and changes and sizzles like gunpowder sparked.

  "Do you need to pretend?" Elijah wonders against my mouth as his hands pin my hips to the bed.

  "No. I want you. I want you, Elijah." I do, more than I should because I can wreck this sweet man.

  "Please don't pretend for me, precious. Look at me." I can't because his mouth moves along my jaw, nipping at my chin, biting my lips before he breaks away.

  Then I do. I look up at him in the darkness, knowing it's a huge mistake. I will hurt him because once I can shut off what he's done to me, the pretending will change. Because I'll pretend I don't want him. Even though I do. More than I can make sense out of. More than is safe for either of us. Elijah sees something that makes him groan and he presses close again.

  "Just tonight. I won't pretend. I want you. No more dates after." I whisper against his lips before I take them, drowning in his sweet taste and the press of his tongue against mine.

  "Tonight." Elijah moves his mouth to my neck, biting and sucking as I rock against him.

  His hands shove at my sweater and my skin burns beneath his fingers. When he cups my breasts, we both moan harshly. Raspy, dirty moans. His thumbs flick and tug and circle my nipples and I writhe beneath him. It's like nothing else, his hands on my skin. I'm terrified to feel his body naked against mine. Can it get better? My sweater is torn away and then he bends an arm behind him, tearing his shirt off.