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By:Dawn Robertson & J. M. Walker


When people think of call girls, they think of whores. Emotionally  ruined little girls with some sort of daddy complex, aching to  compensate for something missing in their lives. For a good portion of  the girls I have met, this is a pretty on point assumption; but for me,  it couldn't be any further from the truth.

I can't remember the exact moment I decided I wanted to become a high  paid whore, but I think it was around the time I arrived in Vegas for a  temporary modeling job.

Truth be told, I am not your usual blonde bombshell, not what most think  of when you say call girl. My short, thick frame and natural fiery red  hair makes me stand out in a crowd. The Irish that runs through my veins  is a fucking curse some days.

But this is the life I have chosen to make for myself. I haven't been  forced, or coerced. I am not a victim, I am a fucking badass business  woman.

I am Jenny Sunshine and this is my story.

Chapter OneModesty


Everything about my life is modest. My every day clothing covers more  than the average woman in Las Vegas, my studio apartment is simple, and  the black Jeep Liberty I drive has seen better days. I've never been a  girl into material possessions. Being raised in the Midwest by  God-fearing parents is probably the root of that, and I genuinely  appreciate it.

It was Friday morning, my first free day of the week. My typical shift  at Dr. Jeffrey's office ran Tuesday thru Thursday, and that is more than  enough for my taste. Call me a prude, or just a flat out bitch, but I  just can't deal with the catty broads that run that place. I have never  been the girl with a bunch of girlfriends. If anything, the girls always  called me a whore because I was a tom-boy, hanging out with all the  guys. Whatever, at least I knew which guys were dogs. And I can still  pick those same assholes out of a crowd.

Which brings me to why I don't date. Have you ever been to Las Vegas?  Yeah, it is a tourist city, most people are just passing through, and  the men who choose to make a life here have some kind of douchebaggery  complex. The pussy is plenty, the alcohol constantly flows, and it  doesn't cost much to get laid. Unless it is my cunt you wanna be inside.

My job got the itch scratched and it filled my bank account. It's the  only thing in my life that doesn't fall under the description of modest,  but I would never tell my parents that.

The phone ringing distracted me from my early morning musings about  life. Rolling over and eying the clock, it was only eight in the  morning. My mother really needed to start taking into consideration the  time difference.

"Momma, you really need to remember the time difference." I let out a  laugh as she gasped on the other end of the line, confirming that once  again, she truly forgot.

"I'm so sorry, Jenny, darlin'." Her country twang flooded though the line.

I miss home. I truly do, but there is nothing to go back to other than my parents. Which simply isn't enough for me.

"When are you comin' home to finally make your papa happy? He misses  you, and you know we can't come out there." Can't? Not exactly. More  like won't. Something about visiting a place called Sin City never  appealed to them.

"Momma, we've been through this. I can't take the time off from work."  The line clicked, signaling an incoming call, and just as my mother  started to gossip about all the bumpkins back home I couldn't give two  shits about, I was able to cut her off with a legit reason.

"Momma, I gotta take this call. Love you." And I disconnected the call. I  cleared my throat and answered with the sexiest most sultry hello I  could put together so early in the damn morning.

"Sunshine, my love," Jude Emerson sang sweetly into the other end of the  line. The thirty-something international businessman from London was  always up for a good time. "I would love to spend the evening with you,  but I have a special request."

"And that would be what, Jude?" I pulled no punches when it came to my  time. It was a simple yes or no. I made the final call on anything I got  myself involved with. I could already tell he was walking on eggshells  just from the tamed tone in his normally playful voice. He was trying to  sweet talk me.

"I would like someone to join us this evening. I have a lady companion I  am traveling with. Her name is Lily and she is interested."

I'd heard worse. Hell, I'd done worse in the name of experimentation.

"You know that will increase my fee for the night, Jude." I cut to the  point because I didn't want to let on that I liked some clients in a  more than business manner. Hell, he was the type all women dreamed of  bringing home to their parents. Thick, blond shaggy hair, with a five  o'clock shadow at all damn times. I often fantasized what he would look  like first thing in the morning after a clean shave. Dark honey eyes  that sparkled with absolute mischief and a bank roll that could buy a  small fucking country, adopt half the orphans of the world, and feed  Sally Struthers for a year.         



"Of course, love. That is no problem. You name the price and it's as good as done."

Doubling my fee for the night would rake in enough to pay my rent for six months.

"Five thousand. See you at the Hard Rock at eight. I will be checked in  under Jennifer Sunshine, as always," and I disconnected the line. A  female companion, huh? This will make for a fun night.

"Jude is gonna pay fuckin' five grand for you tonight?" Nora gasped into  the other end of the phone as I carefully shaved my legs in the  bathtub. My best friend just so happens to be a high paid whore also. I  had no friends in Vegas when I met the blue-eyed blonde bombshell. She  took me under her wing while showing me the ropes of the call girl game.  I owed her a lot, but she would never collect. She was good like that.

Jude is a man that we'd had the opportunity of sharing in the past. His  love for two women at once was nothing new and his ability to fuck like  Don Juan all night long was something I loved about him. Not that I  should love anything about a client. The lines just continued to get  blurred when it came to Jude. As always.

"Yup, five grand and he gets me for two hours. I was surprised he is  bringin' his own lady friend, though. You think he is finally settling  down?" I let out a short laugh, not because I was shocked at the idea,  but because I needed to mask the pang of hurt I felt saying the words.  I'd never crossed the line with a client. Not once. Ever. But Jude  always made me think about the ‘what ifs.' What if he wanted more? What  if I let him have more? What if I gave up my way of life for him? I  shook my head, trying to get into the right frame of mind for the night.  Two more hours and I would be checking into the hotel room for our  night. For work. Only work, I continued to remind myself.

"I gotta go, Nora, I'm gonna slice my fuckin' leg off if I don't hang  up." I tossed my phone onto the bathroom floor and finished the task of  bathing. The long list of chores I always bitched about doing on a night  like this. Shaving my legs and pussy, conditioning my hair in an  attempt to tame my unruly red curls and lathering my favorite apple body  wash all over my pale white skin.

I wanted nothing more than to just lie in the tub, soaking in the hot  water and getting my mind off of my slight obsession with the man  waiting for my services. Never before had I dreaded my job more than  right at this moment. Dammit.

I pulled my lazy ass from the tub, drying off and starting on the project of my hair and makeup.

An hour and a half later I was ready to roll. The deep smoky makeup  around my bright blue eyes accented the black halter dress I had chosen  for the evening. I slid my petite feet into the sky high silver pumps,  grabbed my Michael Kors bag off the bed and locked up my apartment for  the night.

"Let's get this show on the road, Sunshine."

Like that, I was off to work.

"Jennifer, meet Lily." Jude introduced us from his perch in the corner.  He sat in a black leather armchair and I couldn't help but notice his  shirt was already unbuttoned, revealing his delicious, rock hard chest.  His hand rested on the bulge pressing against his black designer pants.

My heart skipped a beat at the sight of him. Beautiful. Perfection. I  had to stop myself from drooling when the voluptuous brunette took my  hand in greeting.

"Nice to meet you. I have heard so much about you from my Jude."

Her Jude. I continued to smile like I was on stage for the Miss America pageant.

"Likewise, Lily." I tossed my bag down and took in her curves. Her large  breasts pressed against the tiny green cocktail dress she was wearing,  threatening to bust out with one wrong move. Her long dark hair reached  down her back, and my eyes met her warm brown ones. Everything about her  screamed simple, natural beauty, and I could see everything that Jude  saw in her. She was not fake like the women constantly throwing  themselves at his billions. She was real. She was lovely. She was warm  and welcoming.