He chose me!

He chose me!

At the nude club in Miami, the most beautiful girl of all was Camille, whose Slavic features fascinated most of the customers. Her blue eyes, upturned nose, and full lips were highly appreciated.

Personally, throughout my life, I have learned that there is an audience for everyone and that everyone has different tastes. But it is true that Camille's popularity was greatly envied by the other girls at the club, probably because that popularity translated into money.

Most of the wealthy clients came to the club for her. Since I had been “invited” to the club for the duration of my stay in the city, it didn't affect me as much, but it did affect many of the other girls. Camille monopolized the most generous clients.

One night, one of the best-known wealthy customers arrived at the club. He always sought out Camille, with whom he shared and spent a lot of money. When she saw him come in, she ran to meet him, accustomed to receiving generous tips when she served him.

After hearing some commotion and a few angry words thrown into the air by Camille, Charito (another of the girls) came running to tell me that Mr. Collins, the wealthy man who had arrived, was asking for me.

I admit I was surprised. Although I haven't had bad luck with men, it was very strange that Mr. Collins chose me over a beauty like Camille. I could hear the other girls whispering about me; they were very jealous.

Once in the private VIP lounge with the best champagne available, Mr. Collins told me that he had heard about me in a very anecdotal way. That morning, he had told his driver that he wanted to try something different. He had the money to have any girl he wanted, but it was always the same. He wanted a different and better experience. His driver told him about me and my voracious appetite for semen, saying that I would extract every last drop of cum from his balls, that I would spend the whole night swallowing his milk. But not just for the money involved, but because I did it for personal pleasure, because for me, drinking semen was a real sport.

I don't even remember how many times I sucked that cock during the night, it could have been four or five times. Mr. Collins was with me for almost seven hours in that room. He loved the effusive way I extracted his milk, he also loved how I swallowed all his genetic material, making a nice guttural noise. Seeing my tongue dry every time I swallowed his semen drove him crazy.

The tip he left me was quite generous, enough to pay for my entire hotel stay and a little more.

Perhaps the comments made about me because of Mr. Collins' preference were the worst part of that experience. Camille, the most beautiful one, the one with the best body, couldn't believe that an older, fat, ugly woman could have taken one of her favorite clients away from her. She and her group of friends started gossiping about me. But it didn't bother me, besides, I had my own group of friends.

Finally, when Camille found out that I didn't need to have sex with Mr. Collins, that it was just blowjobs, she became even more enraged. She always had to contort herself to satisfy that man, whereas I, with my hunger for semen, was able to satisfy him many times.

I didn't say anything to Camille. I didn't need to hurt her. I just said to her in my mind, “In your face, bitch!”