1. Trafficked Love Ch. 10


    Date: 1/4/2018, Categories: Fiction, Job / Office Sex, Non-Erotic, Prostitution, Reluctance, Written by women, Author: ObedientAngel, Source: sexstories.com

    Chapter Ten: The Kind Client Angel rolled over to look at the alarm clock on the nightstand. It was ten in the morning. She had only slept seven hours, but she felt fairly rested. She sat up with a groan, her body creaked and cracked. She looked around at the room. The walls were fairly bare. A dresser sat on the opposite wall from the bed, next to the bedroom door. The accordion doors to the closet on the left wall were closed. A window was just over Angel’s left shoulder as she sat upright in the bed. There was a nightstand on both sides of the bed. The right wall was bare. A laundry basket with folded clothes sat in the corner. Angel was silent as she took in her surroundings. She swung her legs over the edge of the bed, standing up with a sigh. Where were her shoes? Her bag? Angel walked across the room to the door, cracking it open to peer out. She heard the TV in the living room, and sizzling from the kitchen. Slowly, Angel slipped through the doorway and walked down the hall. She stepped lightly, making little to no noise. She peered around the corner, into the kitchen. Dante was standing over the stove, a covered pan on one burner, sizzling and making soft popping noises. He looked up, at her, almost startling her with his quick movement. The stub of a cigarette in his mouth, as he returned her curious gaze. “Sit down,” he mumbled, motioning with his head to the table to Angel’s left. Angel watched not him, but the cigarette as it wiggled as he talked, the burning ...
    tip flaring a red hue as he inhaled. She obeyed silently, not out of submission, but out of habit. Her body was still achingly tired, and she was grateful for an excuse to sit. There was more sizzling at the stove. She sat at the small kitchen table, her back to him. When he set a plate down in front of her, she nearly jumped with surprise. Angel looked down at the plate. The yellow scrambled eggs and reddish brown strips of bacon beckoned her to eat, but she wasn’t sure she should. “Coffee or juice?” Dante mumbled around his cigarette. “Water,” Angel answered almost too soft to hear. Dante set a glass of water next to her plate before sitting down perpendicular to her with his own plate of food and cup of coffee. He reached across the table, hooking a finger on a glass ashtray and dragged it towards him. He rested the stub of his cigarette in the tray before picking up a fork and stabbing at his eggs. Angel looked at him from the corner of her eye. She felt the heat rise in her cheeks instantly. Dante was shirtless. Angel had seen him shirtless before, but it was in a dimly lit, almost dark, run-down motel room. She hadn’t noticed a lot then. She hadn’t noticed his muscular chest, his toned stomach, broad shoulders, tanned skin, and the thin line of hair running from his navel, down past the brim of his pants. She glanced up at his face, and she knew her cheeks must have flushed. He was watching her, watch him! Embarrassment rushed through her, and she hoped it didn’t show too ...
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