Light My Fire [MF] [prostitution] [virgin] [ever so slightly Fdom maybe] [60s/70s vibe] [white male, black female, light raceplay]

Even three floors above the casino floor, Steven could still smell, still feel even, the smoke from hundreds of cigars, puffing their scent below. The musky odor seemed to cling to the walls and the carpet, to his clothes even. Hopefully, the present his dad had got him was a new suit that he could change into.

It was the night of Steven’s 18th birthday. Living on the outskirts of Las Vegas, his father decided to take him to the Strip, a place he had only barely experienced before now, unlike his father who seemed to go every weekend. He couldn’t legally gamble, or drink for that matter, but his dad assured him that they would “let it slide”. After all, no one was too careful about ID’s, and his father’s friend owned the casino. A night out on the town with the guys, however, quickly went south. Steven blew through several hundred dollars at blackjack, he nearly choked to death on one cigar puff, and the shot of whiskey he had sent him to the restroom almost immediately. After getting himself cleaned up, his dad handed him the key to their hotel room and told him to go get his “surprise gift”. He had no clue what it might be, and he half believed his father just sent up here due to embarrassment. Truth be told, even if the surprise was gag gift, Steven was likely to stay up in the room for the rest of the night.

He fished the key out of his pocket, hearing a faint sound from the other side of the door.

*”Come on baby light my fire…Come on baby light my fire…”*

Steven’s eyebrows arched. That was weird. He’d been listening to the record before they left the room, sure. But that was hours ago. And he was sure he had turned it off before they left. The song rapidly got louder as he turned the key in the lock and slowly swung the door open. Before his eyes could even register what he was seeing, a voice entered his mind.

“Hey there, sugar. Steven, right?”

It had a smooth, velvety quality to it. It was feminine but not dainty. Rich, like caramel to the ears. It lingered on and Steven felt as if it would be hard to forget this voice, even if he tried. And it belonged to a woman on his bed.

“Ummm I….yes?” Steven was stiff, unsure of how to approach the situation as he drank in every detail of her form.

Her skin was dark in comparison to his barely tanned complexion, but not too dark. It had the sheen and glow of melted milk chocolate, looking like it might swirl and ooze about her frame at any given moment. The hair on her head was styled in a tight afro. She was clad in dark heels and lingerie, the likes of which could only be found in dirty magazines. If found in a home on his street, it could cause quite the scandal for the lady of the house. As womanly as she was, a very unladylike cigar rested in her fingers, which was promptly puffed on and then placed in the ashtray on the nightstand. The sound of the record playing and the nature of her voice seemed to create a dreamlike feel to the entire room.

“You can call me Honey, darling. Your daddy said it was your birthday today. Said you deserved quite the present.” Honey’s explanation took a moment to come together in his mind. Plain and true, she was a hooker. A prostitute. A lady of the night.

Shutting the door behind him, Steven moved in an almost robotic way into the room, feeling as though bricks were tied to his feet. He wasn’t quite sure what to say or do. On one hand, it couldn’t stop looking at her, especially knowing what she was there for. But he was the kind of kid who always felt as if he was better than that. He was in Boy Scouts in school. He went to church every Sunday. He had felt guilty about not being able to deliver papers in the rain when he was younger. So he certainly wasn’t the type to…make love…to a prostitute.

Nevertheless, before he knew it, he sat on the bed next to her. Honey’s hand gripped his thigh, and he could feel her warmth through his slacks. Suddenly, Steven jolted away, toward the bed’s headboard.

“What’s wrong, sweetie? Did I squeeze a bit too hard?” Honey turned to face him, slowly crawling in his direction.

Steven could only shake his head and back up a bit more.

“A colored girl doesn’t sit well with you? I can get one of my coworkers to come up and take care of you.” She moved closer to him as he tried to move farther away, still shaking his head.

She then stopped, her dark lips forming a thin smile. “I think I get it. You’re a virgin and you don’t want your first time to be with a…girl like me. Is that right?”

Steven’s eyes darted from side to side, then up and down the beauty before him. “Yeah…” He croaked weakly.

Honey giggled slightly. “It happens more often than you think, sugar. Hold on for a second.”

She slid off the bed and slowly made her way to the bathroom. Despite Steven’s apprehension with the whole ordeal, his eyes were practically glued to her bountiful backside as it seemed to bounce slightly with each step, barely covered by the black lace panties she had squeezed into. Honey came back wearing a red, silky bathrobe and toting along her purse. From it, she produced a small box, fit for a deck of cards. The dark woman returned to the bed, kicking her high heels to the floor as she curled up near Steven.

“Know how to play Rummy?” She asked.

The pair proceeded to play rounds for an hour or so, with Steven loosening up as time went on. She learned a bit more about him, like how he had lived outside of Vegas all his life, and how he had just landed his first job for the summer before he would go off to college. How he liked building model aeroplanes and playing baseball. He learned about her as well. Honey’s real name was Clarice. She was from Virginia originally, and tried to make it as a singer in Vegas. She failed and eventually fell into her current profession, which while not her dream, kept a roof over her head. And she didn’t exactly dislike it either. The prospect of bedding a brown girl was slightly exotic to many wealthier tourists, so she was a popular choice for them. And, going against what Steven had assumed about women, Clarice enjoyed sex. The two also both liked The Doors, and casually danced a little to Steven’s record. Slowly, as the words *“Come on baby light my fire”* filled the room, their dancing devolved into grinding and Clarice’s silky smooth robes seemed to slip off her frame. With a gentle push from the woman, Steven let himself fall back, bouncing a bit on the bed as he landed.

Steven took in the sight before him, as the now naked woman before him slowly undressed his lower half. His jaw would’ve needed glue to stay shut. Her nipples sat on her bouncy breasts like two dark chocolate Kisses in a sea of caramel. Clarice had shaved her pubic hair, so only a thin strip remained above her pinkish lips. Steven was brought back to Earth as Clarice slid his briefs away, his cock free from its confines and harder than it ever had been before. The animal in him wanted to slam his body against Clarice’s and shove his aching dick into any orifice he could find. However, the inexperienced virgin in him kept him frozen in place. He watched as she slowly walked to her purse and back, holding a tiny bottle in one hand and a small towel in the other.

“Now, I’m being paid for bareback, sugar, but I don’t want that pent up cock to bust inside me. But I think if we relieve a little of the tension, we might just have ourselves a bit of fun afterwards.” Clarice’s voice was once again dreamlike. She was Honey once again.

Steven barely nodded and watched as she poured liquid out from the bottle directly onto his pulsing member. A shudder came over him as the cold liquid sent a shock through his body, ever so slightly taming his hot dick. The chill was quickly remedied as Honey’s hands took hold of him. Expertly, she spread it all around, lubricating him until he was slick and shiny. Soon, only one hand worked him over. Her grip was tight, as if he was trying to force his cock through her fist. In a slow but steady manner, Honey went all the way down, and all the way back up his shaft, giving her hand a little twist as her fingers caressed his head.

“Mmmm, you like how that feels, don’t you?” He couldn’t respond to her. His eyes were shut and his whole body was a twisted combination of tensed and relaxed. Still, her words dug into his mind.

“My pussy feels ten times better than this. The way my hot, wet walls will just close in on your thick cock…it’ll drive you wild.” She gave him an even tighter squeeze, a sharp moan leaping from his lips as his body bucked.

“And once you release all this pressure for me, baby, mmmm I’ll make you feel even better. Let it all out for me, Steven. Give it to me. Give Honey what she wants.”

Steven heard her last words on repeat as she pumped him up and down, his body thrusting in synch with her hand. Everything slowed, the desperation in her voice clinging to him as his cock reached a boiling point. A grunt came forth from the back of his throat as his balls tightened up and shot his load up his shaft. The hot, white cream burst out of him, cascading all over Honey’s hand and his own cock.

Steven felt as if he momentarily blacked out, but it was probably just him spacing out. When he opened his eyes, the black woman was cleaning the scene with her towel, gently wiping at his shaft. Before he had even known it went soft, it was already coming back to life. Honey seemed to be pleased by this, smiling as she finished cleaning him and herself off. The foot of the bed bent slightly as she climbed on, her bare skin gliding across Steven’s legs as she crawled across him, settling in a straddle across his lap. He could feel the silky touch of her ass on his cock as she rocked back and forth against him, making his dick grow harder and harder.

“You know what’s funny about boys like you? The suburban boys that come down to Vegas…” Honey leaned over, grabbing her cigar and puffing on it. The sweet scent slowly descended upon the bed, pooling into a momentary fog that swirled around the pair.

“What…?” Steven was in a sort of daze, unable to fully form thoughts. He didn’t know how long it took him to voice his one word response.

Honey set her cigar back in the ashtray. “Boys like you, they get all confident after they have fun with me,” The buttons on Steven’s shirt were slowly undone by the prostitute’s nimble fingers. His cock was now fully hard, cradled by the brown ass grinding against it. “They go and pick up one of those pretty little white girls with their blonde hair and blue eyes…their tiny little waists…And you know what? They don’t fuck as good as Honey does.”

Steven watched as Honey dragged her tongue up his torso, scraping her teeth ever so gently against his skin once or twice before planting a kiss on his lips. Her tongue sucked him in, her teeth gripped his lips, and both of them were rendered silent as Honey swiftly reached back, grabbed the throbbing cock behind her, raised her soft ass ever so slightly, and sank herself down onto Steven. Steven gripped the bed sheets as she forced herself all the way down, trapping his cock between her walls of wet, hot, pleasure. He was breathless as she pulled away, rhythmically grinding herself against him, eliciting moans from both parties. Her cocoa hands ran down his pale arms, pulling his white knuckled hands away from the sheets and onto her sides. His grip slipped down her sides to her curvaceous hips, but only rested when they reached her ass. Honey fucked herself on Steven’s cock especially hard when he gave her butt the tight squeeze she was looking for.

“This cock is only gonna crave hot black mommas when I’m done with you. Not those dainty twigs in those magazines you read.” Honey was now really bouncing on his cock. Her voice had taken a huskier tone now, and though Steven didn’t actually talk, his groans were mimicking her. He knew he couldn’t last forever, but he didn’t want to stop.

As she fucked herself. Steven channeled all his strength into her arms to slam her back down. Each time he did this, it strained him in the best way possible. Every fiber of his being wanted to hold her down and blow his load inside her. But there was no way he could ever bring himself to stop Honey’s slick cunt riding him up and down. Nothing he had ever felt, not even her hands, could compare to the woman’s pussy wrapped around his shaft.

“You’re gonna wanna come back to Honey, won’t you? You’re gonna let me make you feel real good all the time, baby.” Honey now had her hands on his bare chest, clawing at him as they bounced up and down together, faster and faster. “Show me how good you feel. Give it all to me, baby!”

Honey quickly transitioned from a husky growl to a high pitched plead for his orgasm. As if she knew that he was about to blow, her ass lifted up one final time. Steven felt her tight pussy leave his cock completely and an almost angry sounding scream ushered forth from his mouth. Not even a second had passed and his cock sprayed everything it had into the air. Had he not closed his eyes, he would have seen it all rain down on Honey’s ass and back. However, the combined sensation of pleasure and exhaustion hit him like a bat to the skull and everything went black.

By the time Steven came to, Honey was gone. Groggily, he looked about the room to find it completely void of her things. He noticed the ashtray still smoking a bit with the remains of her cigar, so he couldn’t have been out too long. Looking down his sweat covered body, he saw his cock, now soft, but still coated in the sticky nectar of Honey’s pussy. A napkin sat on his chest. Still a little weak, he managed to pick it up and examine, squinting to focus his tired eyes. A lipstick letter was scrawled on it, barely legibly, reading “The next time you’re on the Strip, baby, look me up. I love repeat customers” followed by a phone number and a print of her lips where she had apparently kissed.

Steven sighed, resting his head back once more and closing his eyes.

*”Come on baby light my fire…”*

*(Hey and thanks once again for reading one of my stories. It has been a bit, but this one took me a while. I had to really work on it on and off over the course of a few weeks. Unlike my previous stories, this is NOT inspired by an audio and completely based on my own thoughts and daydreams. I tried to give off that 60s/70s vibe without being too time specific. For the future, I have two things I want to work on. One is based off a really weird and perverted comment I read in an AskReddit thread, and the other is another weird (but less so) sci fi sort of project. For the latter, I wanted to try a Choose Your Own Adventure type deal, where I would present several options for where the story should go next, and you guys could vote or something. If any of this seems up your alley, please let me know in the comments or in PMs. As always, requests and constructive criticism is always appreciated. Again, thanks.)*

Source: reddit.com/r/sexystories/comments/6nkm31/light_my_fire_mf_prostitution_virgin_ever_so

One comment on “Light My Fire [MF] [prostitution] [virgin] [ever so slightly Fdom maybe] [60s/70s vibe] [white male, black female, light raceplay]

  1. I like it! It worked well for the time period, and I’ve always had a thing for prostitute stories.

Comments are closed.