Humpday Story: For Friends and Money

For-Friends-and-Money-GenericHer heart fluttered to the bottom of her throat, and Abby swallowed it back down. Losing her paycheck money didn’t bother her too much. 

The fantasy playing out in her head, and the thought of finally making it real, made her sweat. 

Abby sets her attention on Patrick, the sexy waiter at the casino buffet. The waiter she brought up to her hotel room last night. 

For a friend at first. For money the second time.

If you enjoy sexy role-play stories with light BDSM kink, be sure to grab For Friends and Money.



The Setup

Her heart fluttered to the bottom of her throat, and Abby swallowed it back down. Losing her paycheck money didn’t bother her too much. The fantasy playing out in her head, and the thought of finally making it real, made her sweat. 

Abby knew it was wrong. Full out, no question, absolutely and idiotically wrong. And maybe that’s why she was at a casino in bumfuck, Nebraska, blowing cash on the slot machines. That might also explain why her ass and thighs were so sore. 

She could barely sit in front of the slot machine, so she didn’t spend very long at one. Win a little, lose everything, then pick up her twenty ounce bottle of orange soda, and walk about a bit before settling in to lose more money. She wandered over to the blackjack tables, gawked at the handsome dealer in his shiny black vest and starched white sleeves. Then wander back to the slots. 

The pattern repeated itself. 

The buffet beckoned. Abby longed for the cheesy biscuits, macaroni, and the wonderful apple pie with a cup of coffee. She hadn’t eaten in six hours, since the late breakfast of cold cereal at the hotel. But the jitters kept her away from the buffet. 

Away from the him. The cute waiter with dark curly hair and olive tanned skin. He wasn’t particularly tall, only her height if she wore heels. But Patrick made up for vertical challenge with charm. 

He’d charmed her right out of her only pair of panties, in fact. And damn it, she was getting them back. 

Abby walked from slot machine to slot machine, the cool air conditioning tickling her like gentle kisses between her legs. She’d never been so bravado like this. She wore a yellow sundress she’d bought at a local department store this morning, and wedge sandals to match. Why she hadn’t bought new panties, Abby wasn’t entirely sure. But the jeans and tank top she brought with her to Nebraska needed to be washed. 

She needed money. Her cash ran low a day ago, and stupidly enough was running even lower. She didn’t want to use her credit card too much, and she needed some money in reserve for gas on the way home. Next week’s paycheck wouldn’t come soon enough. 

Her vacation started well enough. The break from managing the lingerie department had been a long time coming. The department was constantly short staffed with people who had no retail experience, and district managers were constantly berating Abby for everything that went wrong. 

But all that was two states away, and she had one more night to do anything she wanted. 

She finished off the last of the orange soda and threw away the bottle in the recycling. One walk through the gift shop told her she’d already spent enough money on souvenirs. And what she really wanted wasn’t something she could buy, exactly. 

Actually, it was something Patrick the waiter was going to buy. 

Last night had been amazing. Chilled merlot with a plate of fancy cheeses. Each time he fed her a piece, Patrick told her what the cheese was called. By that point, Abby had been too drunk to pay much attention to anything besides the loose top button of his shirt. He kissed her at some point, and slowly made out with her. Right when she was ready to let him take her panties off, he led her outside to watch the fireworks show. 

Luckily, she didn’t have to wait very long. He got her panties off, along with every other stitch of clothing. He made love to her on the grass, banged her silly back in the hotel room, and then held her close for the rest of the night. Patrick kept her panties in the morning, and left her with a kiss on the cheek and a promise of more fun if she stopped by the buffet. 

Abby took a deep breath, and stepped into the restaurant. The tables were mostly empty now, except for the late afternoon folks who ate long lunches, and the folks who ate early dinners. 

And there he was. Patrick. 

She wasn’t sure why the nerves hit her. After all, she’d already been with this guy. Shouldn’t that make things easier to ask for sex? 

But the way he looked at with those dark eyes under those thick brows, how he seemed to be undressing her in his mind, just made her all the more nervous. 

Abby picked a table in the corner, and sat down with her back to the wall. Patrick came over with a tall glass of orange soda, and sat down across from her. 

“Hello friend,” he said. 

“Lover,” she said. Abby unwrapped the straw he offered, slowly, and then took a long sip of the soda. 

“Last night was wonderful,” Patrick said, leaning forward with his elbows on the table. He glanced down the front of her dress. “I thought of you all day.”

“Is that so?” She cupped her face with both hands. Their mouths almost touched. 

“I want you again,” he touched her on the elbows. 

“This time,” she said, licking her lips, “it’s going to cost you.”

“Oh?” He pulled away from her. Then his brows furrowed with curiosity. “Do you have a proposition?” 

“As a matter of fact…” Her words were almost a whisper. He stared at her in concentration, as if every word were the most important thing ever. She smiled. “You know what they say. The first time you do it for your friends. The second time you do it for money.” 

He was silent for a moment. The wheels were turning in his head. She hoped he’d figure out what she meant, or at least ask enough questions. Abby wasn’t sure how to explain what she wanted, she just knew in the pit of her stomach she wanted something no man had ever done for her. 

And then Patrick smiled. “I see,” he said. “We’re not friends?”

“I don’t think we can be,” Abby said. “We live in different states, have different lives, and the only thing we have in common is lust. When I’m gone, you’ll go back to your life, and I’ll go back to mine.”

“I’m sorry for that,” he said. 

“Don’t be. You gave me a wonderful gift. Now I want one more thing.” 

His face and neck reddened. He leaned closer to her, and spoke very softly. “Good thing I made a lot in tips today. I’ll need a lot of cash to pay for the services you’ll provide me.”

Abby giggled. She couldn’t help it. “Then you understand what I want.” 

“You want to be a slut,” he said. “Not just treated like one. To literally be one for a night.”

“Yes,” Abby placed a hand on her chest. “Oh God, yes.”

Finally, her fantasy became real. She was so close to knowing what it was like to be a whore, and she had a good man to treat her like one for a night. 

The Deal

Patrick insisted they take a walk first. Somewhere outside the bustle of the casino and hotel where they could talk realistically. 

Abby mentioned the park behind the casino. Lots of benches, a small pond, and trees. The wind blew through her hair, cooling off the sweat on the back of her neck. The afternoon sun drifted lazily over the tree tops.

“You sure about this?” he said. 

Abby wanted him to take her right now. She’d never been this excited, anxious, and nervous all at the same time. He could at least hold her hand, or touch her on the arm, or something. But he kept cool and stayed a safe distance from her. Close enough to be friendly, but without invading her space. 

“I’ve fantasized about this for a long time,” she said. 

“But I want to be clear about what you want,” Patrick said. “What is your fantasy?”

She stopped in her tracks, and then sat down on the nearest park bench. How to explain this? Especially to a man. Would he understand? It was one thing to have the dream in her mind while she masturbated with her favorite vibrator, and tell the story to herself. 

The story, of course, of how she was desperate for the money, and got reduced to selling her body. How she’d get used by a strange man. 

It was so simple in her mind. So very hard to just open her mouth and tell him what she wanted. 

Patrick sat down next to her. His body warmth touched her shoulder. 

“Okay, I’ll share my fantasy first,” he said. “And I won’t do this to you, if it doesn’t appeal to you.” 

“Thank you.” She slouched in the bench slightly, and tilted her head up at him. He had a sexy square jawline, perfect for kissing underneath as she discovered during last night’s tryst. Last night he’d been cleaned shaved. Today, he had some fuzz. Clearly, she’d kept him up late enough that he hadn’t cared about shaving this morning. 

She couldn’t believe this was really happening. A man she already trusted, and had little reason to, who was willing to role-play her fantasy. 

Just the fact that he was entertaining the notion of making her a prostitute gave her hope. And then offering to share his own fantasy relaxed her a little. 

But it took him awhile to share. He sat moving that sexy jaw for a bit. And then he smiled. 

“So, don’t laugh,” he said. Patrick cleared his throat. “None of my girlfriends ever wanted to try this with me.”

“I’m listening,” Abby said, moving just a hair closer to him and his warm shoulder. 

He shifted a little, and gave her a cute, somewhat dorky, smile. “I’ve always wanted to tie up and blindfold my woman. And then use her any which way I wanted to.”

Abby laughed. But she hoped not in a mean way. He turned his head. She quickly said, “And none of your girlfriends were willing to do that for you?”

“Nope,” Patrick said. “It’s stupid. I understand if you’re not into that.” 

She touched him on the forearm. “I’d like you to do that to me,” she said. “And I think it’ll fit nicely into my fantasy.”

“Oh, yeah?” 

“Yeah,” Abby said. “I wanted to be taken by a guy who pays me for my body. He doesn’t want me for a girlfriend, doesn’t buy me nice things. Just uses me and walks away.”

“But as a role-play?” he said. 

“Yes! Totally. Use me like I’m a pussy to be filled.” Abby frowned at what she just said. She’d never put those words to the fantasy in her head, and it came out sounding like something a guy would fantasize about. She laughed again. “But I insist on a condom, like last night.”

“No problem,” Patrick said. “And to be clear on something. Umm…”

“Yes?” Abby tilted her head, and took him by the hand. 

“Is this a rape fantasy?” he said quickly. 

“No,” she said. “And thanks for asking.” 

“Good,” he said. “i’m not sure if I could’ve done that for you.” 

“I think that requires a whole ‘nother level of trust,” she said. “But maybe…”

“For tonight, you’re a prostitute at the casino,” Patrick said. “And I’m a John with too much money, looking for something he can’t get at home.” 

“Perfect!” Abby dug through her purse. She handed him the magnetic hotel key for her room. “Take this. Pretend the room is yours. I can get a spare key from the front desk so I can still get if I need to.” 

“Feel free to take out any valuables from the room,” he said. 

“I got everything valuable in here,” she patted her purse. “Which ain’t much.” 

“How about a safe word?” he said. “In case I go too far and you need to stop me.”

Abby tapped her chin. She’d thought about before, in her private fantasies. But now that it was really happening, her mind froze up. Patrick told her to just say the first thing that came to her mind. 

“Fine,” she said. “Jack rabbit.”

She giggled at that, but he agreed to the safe word being “jack rabbit.” Kind of appropriate, Abby thought, since they were about to do what rabbits did best. 

He took her hand, a serious expression on his brows. “You sure about this?” 

“Yes,” she said, and then pecked him on the cheek. “Not sure if I can look the part. Didn’t bring a lot of clothes with me, unfortunately.” 

Patrick dug into his pocket, and pulled out a brass money clip with a large wad of green. He counted out two hundred dollars. “Pair of shoes and a dress?” he said. 

“I can’t.” Abby held her hands up. “That’s too much.”

“Come on,” he said, shoving the money into her hand. “This is your night. And I’m getting excited about this, too.”

“But that’s a lot of money,” she said. 

“I’ve had a good summer with tips,” he winked. “Besides, for my little slut, I’d pay anything to see her in some nice clothes, just to rip them off her.” 

Abby’s breath caught. Her stomach fluttered and her heart skipped a beat. She took the money he offered. 

For her John—Patrick—she was going to buy the best possible dress and shoes she could find with his money. 

Even if he ruined them later tonight.

The Ride

She waited in the casino lobby, next to the red convertible that was part of some kind of raffle going on. Abby wore a red flowery sundress that showed off more of her legs than she was used to, and a pair of six-inch heel white pumps. She felt tall and strong, towering over even a lot of the men in the casino. And she got more than a few hot glances, from both sexes. 

If only those people knew she wasn’t wearing panties. That little secret gave her a thrill all its own, as if knowing that gave her some kind of superpower. It was silly, of course. She couldn’t even explain it to herself. Just this strange high of being vulnerable and confident at the same time. 

Abby was excited with jitters. Her hot skin prickled with gooseflesh. On the one hand, she should just wait for Patrick, on the other she could walk away, get in her car, and drive away forever. 

But if she walked away, Abby knew she’d always wonder what might’ve happened. 

She was staying, no matter how long it took him to show up. And if he flaked out on her, that was his own dumbass fault. 

And then Abby saw him. He wore a purple dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up, jeans, and shiny black dress shoes. His hair was neatly combed, but he still hadn’t bothered to shave. 

Patrick smiled at her as he walked up. 

“Hello,” he said. A hint of his cologne reached her. She hadn’t noticed his dimples before, oddly. Her knees felt oddly weak. Certainly this wasn’t how a hooker felt when approached by a client. 

But then how would she know? 

“Hi,” she said. The silence simmered between them. Abby didn’t know what to say next. Was she supposed to proposition him? Shit, she hadn’t thought of that.

He glanced over both shoulders and shoved his hands in his pockets. Then he pointed towards the gift shop. “I, uh, noticed you from over there.”

“Did you now?” she said. 

“I’d like to buy you a drink,” he said at last. He smiled, as if he’d thought of that line all night, and only now came up with the courage to say it. 

“I’d like that.” 

He offered his hand, and walked her to the bar, where he bought two glasses of merlot. They chatted as if they didn’t know each other already. What’s your name? Where you from? What are you doing tonight? Another two rounds of wine went by. 

The alcohol went to Abby’s head. She leaned forward, her hand dangerously high up on his thigh. “If you mean to talk business,” she said, “we should find somewhere more private.” 

“What do you mean?” he said with more than a hint of humor, and drunkenness, in his voice. 

“I hope you brought money, sir,” she hopped off the barstool and staggered away. 

“My room?” Patrick said, following close behind, and caught her by the elbow before she could stumble into one of the cocktail waitresses. 

“Don’t be so hasty,” Abby said. “But if you can afford me, we should head in that direction.” 

She let him lead her to the hotel, which was connected to the casino. At the elevators, he shoved her against the wall, and took out the money clip from his hip pocket. 

Her eyes bulged wide at the wad of cash he had. How did a waiter, even a talented one at a busy casino, have that much cash on hand? She was stunned speechless. Abby didn’t even hear what he said at first. 

“How much are you worth, little slut?” he said brusquely. When she didn’t answer, he counted out two hundred dollars and shoved it into her bra. “There. I hope that buys more than a sloppy blowjob in the elevator.” 

Once again, those dimples came out. He even blushed a little at what he said. Abby found that too cute for words. 

“You can take me back to your room with that money,” she said. “I might even spread my legs for you.” 

Patrick counted out another two hundred dollars and shoved it into the other cup of her bra. Then he pushed the elevator button. When the elevator dinged open, he grabbed her by the elbow, and dragged her in. He was rough, as if he didn’t care if she wanted to go with him or not. 

With four hundred bucks in her bra, Abby would’ve followed him to the roof. Forget the money, she’d fuck him on the roof anyway after seeing the slightly darker side of Patrick. 

They were the only people in the elevator. He leaned with his back to the wall. 

“How about that sloppy BJ?” he said. Before Abby could answer, he placed a hand on her head, and shoved her down to her knees. Then he opened his pants in front of her face. Abby was pleased to see that he was going commando too. 

Like a good whore, she wasted no time when he offered his half limp cock. 

Abby took the tip in her mouth, rolling her tongue across him. Then she licked down to his balls and sucked them. She stroked his shaft. He raised to attention at her touch. 

And then he grabbed her by the sides of her head, pushing her on his cock. Abby breathed through her nose, but she still felt suffocated by his musk and girth. At first, she tried to avoid using her teeth. Her jaw muscles became sore from the action, she had to relax her mouth. As she spat him back out, she scraped her teeth up his shaft. 

“Good slut,” he said. 

Abby didn’t wait for him to shove her face down again. She swallowed him whole, using all of her mouth. Tongue, teeth, throat. She choked and spat him out again, a long string of saliva connecting her lips to his cock. 

“Up, up,” Patrick said, winded as if he were out of breath from running. Abby had no idea what he meant at first. He tugged at her shoulders. 

The elevator doors dinged open. Her heart skipped a beat when she realized what he wanted her to do. Abby straightened in an effort to hide him. She snapped her head around, startled like hell. Luckily nobody was directly outside. But she heard people around the corner. 

She pressed the button for three floors up and slammed the “close door” button. 

“Hold the elevator!” somebody yelled. 

She rapid-fire pressed the button until the door closed and the elevator started moving again. 

“Close one,” she winked up at Patrick. 

He stared down at her, wide-eyed and sweaty. “Holy shit,” was all he could say. 

She licked and sucked him a few quick times before the doors opened again. At which point she took no more chances and pulled his pants back up. Patrick took a cue, tucking in his shirt and zipping up again. Abby pressed the button for their floor. When they arrived, a man and a woman were waiting to get on. 

The man only shrugged with an annoyed glance at them. The woman winked knowingly at Abby. 

That feeling of power rushed over her. She waited for Patrick to take the lead. He stood, just staring at her as if she were an alien. 

“Which way to your room?” Abby said. 

“Oh.” He pointed the wrong way first. And then he chuckled and took her by the hand to her room. “This way.” 

When he unlocked the room with her key and pushed her inside, it was Abby’s turn to be speechless.

The Deed

Flowers of all types and colors decorated the inside of the hotel room. Mums, roses, tulips. White, red, purple, yellow. On the dresser, the bedside tables, the bed itself. The door clicked shut behind her, but Abby barely noticed. When he put his arms around her waist, she breathed in the scent of all the flowers. 

“It’s so beautiful,” she said. 

“Glad you like them,” he said. 

“But how… Sorry for being blunt, but this must’ve cost a small fortune.” 

“For a waiter busting his ass off?” Patrick winked at her. “I’m also really good at the blackjack table.” 

She thought he was simply joking with her at first. But the serious expression on his face told her otherwise. 

“Blackjack paid my way through college so far,” he said. “And it allows me to have my own place.”

Abby kissed him on the bottom lip. “Thank you for everything.” She frowned. “And so we’re clear, you can have back what you paid me.” 

He cupped her face and kissed her back. “That would ruin the fun of the roleplaying.” 

After some kissing and groping, Abby turned to the bed. 

On the bed next to the roses were piles of white rope, a box of condoms, and a black blindfold. He gently nudged her. She playfully resisted him at first, and then slowly allowed him to move her. Once at the bed, he pushed her to bend forward with ass in the air. 

And then he lifted the hem of her dress. By the half chuckle, half growl he made, he must’ve been pleasantly surprised that she wore no panties. Patrick got down on his knees behind her and licked her. Up the insides of her thighs, to her pussy lips, the clit, a tease on the ass. He got her wet. He stripped off her dress. 

And then told her to lie flat on the bed. 

She did as she was told. Uncertainty flashed in her mind. What was he going to do to her? Would she like it? Patrick took her hand and smiled at her. She gave him a smile back. Screw it—whatever he did, she wanted to let him please her. Abby put her arms behind her head and spread her legs. 

Patrick pushed her legs back together. He must’ve saw the confusion on her face. He winked, and then grabbed one of the ropes. He tied her ankles together, winding the rope up her calves and then her thighs. 

“Too tight?” he said. 

“Feels fine,” she said. 

“If you need to be freed, let me know,” he said. He slipped the knot loose, to show her how fast he could undo the binding. He retied the handiwork. 

And then he put a pillow underneath her head. Patrick took her hands and used another rope to bind her wrists together. Abby struggled against the restraints, testing the knots. They were solid. She had no easy way to escape, if any. Her heart raced so fast she was certain Patrick could hear it. 

“Jack rabbit,” she said. 

Without hesitation, Patrick slipped the knots undone quickly. In fast order, Abby was released, safe. She sat up. 

“You okay?” he said, laying a hand on her shoulder. 

“Yeah,” she said. “Maybe a drink of water?”

He hopped off the bed and opened the fridge near the bathroom sink. He got out two bottles of water, handing her one. 

“We can do this without the bindings,” he said. “I’d still have fun.” 

She took a sip of water, smiling. “I still want to be tied up. Maybe fewer ropes this time?”

“How about only the wrists?”

“Sounds good,” she said. “And hey, thanks for respecting the safe word.” 

He smiled at her. Then he kissed her on the lips. “No problem sweet lady.” 

Patrick tied up her wrists like he had before. And then with a wink, he raised her arms above her head. He wrapped the other rope around her torso and criss-crossed around her breasts, pushing them up  He asked if that was okay. She laughed and told him yes. The ropes rubbed her skin when she tried to move, for sure they’d leave red marks after he took them off. Abby had never imagined what it was like to wear ropes, the sensation of being confined and exposed at the same time. 

It made her feel sexy. Liberated. 

And then he pushed her back flat against the mattress. He slipped on a condom. And then he grabbed hold of the bindings on her wrists, raising her hands above her head. Abby closed her eyes. Little kisses down her neck and across her breasts sent shivers across her skin. She wanted to wrap her arms around his neck, and fought him to do so. But she couldn’t win against the rope and his strength.

He pulled away from her, admiring the view. Abby imagined it in her own mind—her naked body, tied up, vulnerable. 

And then he slipped the blindfold over her eyes. Her heart raced in anticipation and longing. She pleaded for him to do something, and when nothing happened she panicked. Was he going to do anything? He was still there, she could feel his weight shifting around on the mattress.  

When he entered her, she let out a throaty moan, partly to play her part as a willing slut. Partly—mostly—because he just felt right inside her. The way he filled her and stretched her. The way he wiggled his hips, settling on top of her body. He held her close, gently, as if she were fragile. 

“Is this what you paid me four-hundred dollars for?” Abby said. “To fuck me like your girlfriend?” 

Patrick laughed. He pushed himself off her. And then he clutched her ankles roughly, lifting her legs over his shoulders. Abby wiggled and squirmed as if to get away. He forced himself inside her. Much less gentle than before. Still felt like him, with the familiar shape of his cock and the scent of him all over. But otherwise it could’ve been a different man. 

One who didn’t care about her pleasure. Only that she was a pussy to be taken and filled. Being used heightened the sensation for Abby in ways she hadn’t expected. 

He pulled out regularly, told her what a useless slut she was. How she was only good for one thing. 

“Please put it back in me,” Abby said, surprised at how dry and husky her voice sounded. Surprised at the words that came out of her mouth. She’d never talked like that, even to men she loved. 

She just wanted it—needed it—badly. 

Patrick alternated between fucking her with his cock, playing with her clit, and calling her a dirty slut. He pinched and twisted her nipples. Slapped her breasts. Flipped her over and took her from behind. 

Tears welled up underneath the blindfold. Abby let out a window-shattering scream when she orgasmed. 

But he kept going. 

He smacked her on the ass. And man-handled her onto her back again. 

She had no idea what time it was, or how long he’d been doing her, or how much longer he’d go. And then he yanked his cock out of her. She heard the snap of his condom. For a brief moment, Abby worried he’d enter her bareback and come inside her. 

And then she felt the warm spray of his jizz on her stomach. On her breasts. Her neck. He just kept coming, over and over until it seemed like she was coated with him. 

Patrick took off the blindfold first. She was surprised at how dark it had gotten. Then he untied her, letting her relax. 

He pulled her close to him. 

“I thought you going to leave?” she said, half joking and afraid he’d take her seriously. 

“I’ll give you another hundred bucks if you shut up and let cuddle,” he said. 

She obeyed, laying her head on his chest and relaxing in his arms. 

Right before she fell asleep, he got out from under her and got dressed. He kissed her goodnight. 

And then tossed a hundred dollar bill on the nightstand. Before she could argue with him, he left.


The next morning, Abby felt like five-hundred bucks in more ways than one. She took all the flowers with her, though she knew they wouldn’t survive the trip home. She planned to dry them out and maybe save them as mementos. No way she could’ve left them in the hotel room. 

Speeding down the highway, Abby went commando with Patrick’s money stuffed in her bra. She no sign of him in the casino or hotel. Just as well. 

What happened last night was fun and special in its own way. Seeing him one more time would’ve broken the spell. 

She stopped for lunch in Iowa. While she waited for her burger, her phone buzzed with a text message. 

I enjoyed myself, Patrick wrote. Thank you.

THANK YOU!!! she wrote back. Then she added a heart emoji. 

He sent a heart back to her, and then added, See you during your next vacation?

You know it, Abby wrote. Vegas next time??? 

Sounds like fun!

Abby sank into the booth, content and completely happy. She didn’t want to go back home. Or go back to work. She didn’t even want to eat the burger when it arrived. Daydreams about Las Vegas and all the things Patrick might do filled her brain to capacity. 

The next vacation couldn’t come soon enough. Planning for it would the first thing she did when she got home. 


Copyright © 2018 Hermit Muse Publishing

Cover image © angel_nt/BigStockPhoto

Thank you for reading! If you would like to purchase this story, you can find it at your favorite retailer. Or feel free to leave a tip with the PayPal button below.


Author: D. Anthony Brown

Indie writer and publisher. Among other jack-of-all-trade skills...

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