Keeping secrets in the darkness of Derek’s bedroom all those years ago had prepared me, it seemed. After I’d jumped in one man’s car, jumping in another wasn’t anything of note. The cars of strangers became my evening cubicle, my first office of sorts. Serving men and taking their money were the only requirements of the job, and I was a natural. The bulbous gearshift of a date’s car was always in the way, no matter if it was a Lexus or a Honda. I draped my body over it or the center console in a way that flattered my exposed ass and comfortably placed my face in his crotch. Most times I jerked and sucked wearing my thong, unless he paid extra for me to be exposed. I filled every condom with a packet of lube and slipped it onto his penis. The lube made the latex softer and suppler, thus speeding up ejaculation and decreasing my time and effort. I rarely pleasured a man in the backseat because it gave the date too much freedom to touch and move around and make demands I didn’t feel like fulfilling.
