Pamela was in her mid forties and fighting a losing battle against the rising tide of age, her thighs and bottom were spreading, her tummy had started to sag and fine lines, not quite yet wrinkles, had recently appeared on her once pretty face.
That being said she was still attractive in a mature unpolished way. She knew how to display her best assets to their full benefit. She had great legs despite her thickening thighs, and to exhibit them she always wore high heels, sheer stockings and the shortest of skirts.
Her spreading tummy was held in place with a full girdle with attached suspenders. Her ever expanding, slightly saggy breasts could be controlled and displayed to advantage with the right bra. Her face just needed more makeup than she used to use when she was younger, so she wore lashings of it. Finally her hair was always perfect, no demure bob or modest perm for our Pamela; she wore her hair big, high and sassy. ‘Mutton dressed as lamb,’ her Mom would have called her; but that was Pamela’s look. Her regular punters loved it.
Pamela had been a prostitute all her working life. She had held the odd regular job here and there, but always came back to the game. From the moment she had turned fifteen when she noticed the boys furtive glances at her breasts and her uncle Bill’s awkward but repeated attempts to look up her skirt and the lump in his pants when he hugged her (which he tended to do way too often and for far too long for propriety); she knew that she had something men wanted. It didn’t take her long to figure out that they would pay for it too. She fell into prostitution the way some of her girlfriends fell into jobs such as hairdressing or as shop assistants; it was just the job that best suited her.
Pamela ha... Læs hele novellen
