Confessions Of A Prostitute #4: Welcome To The World Of Sponging

It was that time of the month, and I still had a client to see who paid handsomely. So I managed to reach a compromise...
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It was that time of the month, and I still had a client to see who paid handsomely. So I managed to reach a compromise...

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I’m in the business of selling dreams. Irrespective of what I like I’m here to please a customer. Sometimes I’m shocked at how I find out how to go about doing so.

‘Urgh. You have the tightest pussy ever. Then lucky bastard that gets to have you all to himself.’ He growled.

All I could do was smile and continue to reach for the lube, change position and exercise my pelvic floor. Were my vagina muscles, really that tight? Were they fuck. But it was my first time sponging and it turned out to have more advantages than I imagined.

What is ‘sponging?’

Put simply, it’s inserting a cosmetic sponge into one’s vagina.

Why would I do that?

It was that time of the month. Usually, I’d just take time off, but this appointment had already been postponed twice and five hundred quid for two hours thrashing about was not to be scoffed at. After some brainstorming and quick pep talks with other Pro friends, I decided to give the sponge a go.

‘But what if it falls out during doggy?’ I hesitantly questioned my friend and business partner.

‘It’s not going to fucking fall out! Imagine you’re holding onto your pee that will keep it right in place. ‘  She shrieked before hanging up the phone.

And that’s what I did. So well it seemed, that he had no idea and it stayed exactly where it needed to be and kept him, the hotel sheets and me spotless. On top of that, it had deceived him into thinking that I had a vagina of the slimmest proportions, which was of course a major USP in my line of work.

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‘You’re going to bankrupt me girl!’ He exclaimed once he’d come down from whichever cloud his orgasm made him lay upon.

I laughed but not too hard, I’d been warned that laughing could send the shit flying out. The last thing I wanted was to reenact scene from Alien.

‘Can I see you the same time next week?

Before I could think about how I would keep my faux vagina together, I said ‘Yes, of course.’

Once he’d left, I did a shimmy around the room celebrating my success in being a sponge queen.  After that, I spent the next five hours trying to get the little fucker out. My friend came home to find me trying to give birth to the little shit. It clearly had other ideas.

Bright and early the next morning, we went to the clinic.

‘How can I help?’ pried the conservative receptionist.

‘I have a cosmetic sponge stuck in my vagina.’ I said unashamedly.

‘Oh…let me get the nurse. ‘ She said with a flushed face.

‘Yeah, but before you do that, can I make an appointment for the same time next week?’

What? Like I said, I sell dreams.

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