Black Barbie

It took my eyes a few moments to adjust as I went from the bright shine of the midafternoon sun to the dim fluorescent lighting of the building I'd just entered.

I hadn't visited an "Adult Entertainment Store" like this one in many, many years. But the sign out front had called to me with the promise of "Live NUDE Girls!" And not having seen a nude woman since my divorce several months ago, (outside of online porn), I figured I was about due.

Still, I was rather nervous, not knowing exactly what to expect, or even what I truly wanted. I couldn't assume the women here were prostitutes. Maybe they were simply dancers, performers. But even if sex was on the table, I wasn't sure I was looking to go that far. Not that I was squeamish about the morality of paying for sex. But the whole idea of it felt very awkward. And yet I couldn't deny I was also curious about the possibilities.

And so I moved as casually as I could through the main store, pretending to look at the various sex toys and videos on display as if I had an interest in purchasing something. Meanwhile my feet kept me moving to the sign I'd spotted in the rear: "Live Girls."

That room was even more dimly lit than the store, the only real lighting coming from a few spotlights above and the windows of the booths that lined the left and right walls, four to each side.

Five of the eight booths were occupied, as promised, with real live women, standing at their windows. Being the only man currently in the place, I suddenly felt very much under pressure as they each vied for my attention.

The ladies were certainly attractive enough, although none of them were flawless. But I certainly had no wish to be overly critical, especially considering all but one were already topless and more than happy to flaunt their assets for me.

And yet it was the one still wearing a bra that caught my eye. Her dark braided hair, ebony skin and genuinely welcoming smile immediately drew me to her. Her petite yet curvy build didn't hurt either. I managed to tear my eyes away from her body long enough to spare a glance at the sign hung above the door to the booth that proclaimed her name: "Barbie."

I laughed inwardly. Many people would probably think that particular moniker ill chosen, considering most would picture a California Blonde white woman, but considering her almost doll-like proportions - rounded breasts, skinny waist, wide hips - I found it an amusing and fitting choice.

I knew instantly she was the one. But now, the question became: The one for WHAT?

I approached her booth, nervous yet excited, when a voice from behind stopped me. It was the guy at the front desk, the one I'd avoided eye contact with as I'd walked past. "You can talk to the models on the phone; a dollar a minute. Follow the hallway around the corner, booth six."

"What? Oh, right. Of course." I was glad the darkness hid my embarrassment as I made my way to the rear hall. Finding the door marked '6,' I entered what was reminiscent of an old telephone booth, and only slightly larger. Against the far wall was an almost ceiling to floor window, currently covered by a curtain. To the left was a corded phone, and beneath that, a slot to insert money.

Pulling out my wallet, I found a ten; figured I'd start slow and see where it went. I slipped the bill into the slot and up went the curtain. And there was Barbie, a vision of beauty in her lacy red bra and panty set.

"Hey, how you doing?" Barbie greeted me. Much like her smile, her voice was natural, genuine. There was no hint of fake enthusiasm to cover up some inner disdain for yet another pervert entering her booth. She appeared comfortable, completely at ease.

"What's your name, sweetie?"

"Hi. Um, I'm Jack. Nice to meet you. Um, Barbie, right?"

She laughed, not at all dismissively. "Yeah, that's me. Cause I'm such a doll, dont'cha think? Although I wanted to go by 'Black Barbie,' but the owner thought that might piss off some white folks, so..." She shrugged and rolled her eyes in an exaggerated way I found absolutely adorable.

"Hey, not all us white folks are so easily offended," I chuckled. "I think it suits you."

"Thanks, sweetie." Even her use of endearments felt authentic. "So, Jack, what you looking for today?"

Despite feeling far less anxious already, I was still hesitant to vocalize my requests. "Well, um, to be honest? I don't really know; wasn't sure what the, well, options were."

Barbie gave me a sympathetic smile. "First time here?"

"Yeah." Ever the wordsmith, that's me.

"Look, relax, okay? I'll explain how this works." Barbie spoke with the patient tone of someone who'd had to do this often. "If you wanna keep it simple, we can just talk here; Just put some more money in the slot, I'll get naked and you can jerk it. But if you were looking for something more up close and personal, we can move things to the private room. It's sixty dollars to rent the room from the house for thirty minutes. Then there's my rates, which start at a minimum of another sixty."

Mentally I was counting how much cash I'd brought with me. "I see. And what does that sixty get me?"

"Well, I don't fuck, and no butt stuff," Barbie said matter of factly. "Maybe some other girls here do and, if that's what you're interested in, I get it if you wanna move on. But we can do plenty of other things, including blowjobs, although those cost extra. And you can touch me anywhere you want."

Surprisingly, I felt a sense of relief at her declaration. Having taken intercourse off the menu, I felt like the pressure of the situation had been lifted from me. Weird, I know. But I have my quirky insecurities.

"That's fine," I managed to respond. "I actually wasn't looking for anything that... extreme. Not now, anyway. I was kinda just hoping to relax, get a little closer with you and, well, see how things went."

"Sounds good," said Barbie, her hands suggestively caressing her curves. "We can definitely get nice and close. Just go see the guy at the front, tell him you want me for thirty minutes, then meet me in Private Room Two down the hall, 'kay?"

***

Private Room Two was larger than the phone booth, but not by much. The difference now though was that there was no glass separating me from Barbie. She stood close enough that I could smell her perfume; light and fresh and not at all cloying.

Awkwardly, I reached into my pocket and handed over her fee.

"Thank you, sweetie." Barbie bent and tucked the cash into a small carry bag on the floor. I had to laugh at myself for sneaking a peek at her ass like she wasn't aware what she was showing or about to let me do much more than look.

Straightening, she moved into my arms, wrapping hers around my back. To my delight, she leaned in and gave me a soft, very erotic little kiss. "So how do you wanna start?"

My hands found the small of her back. "You said I can touch you, right?"

"Anywhere you want, honey."

"Except the butthole, right?"

Barbie laughed. "Except the butthole, right."

Boldly... well, boldly for me... I grabbed her firm, round ass. The first new ass I'd touched in close to twenty years. My pulse raced. While I knew deep down this was happening only because I paid for it, at the moment, I just didn't care.

Being so close to her gave me a much better look at her face. She was older than I'd initially thought, perhaps in her thirties at a rough guess. Yet it was really only noticeable around the eyes, the slight wrinkles or "laugh lines" as some call them.

Her eyes themselves were a lovely deep brown, and shone with an inner confidence that sent the message that, whatever her reasons were for being here, she at least seemed to enjoy her work.

Her lithe, firm body swayed with mine as my hands explored further; soft caresses, not clumsy groping, moving along her back, then down her sides and over her hips. Sliding upwards, I found her bra strap. Try as I might, though, I couldn't find the claps to unhook it.

Barbie pulled back from our embrace with a soft chuckle. "It's up front, hun." With a deft flick of her fingers, the bra sprung open, and with a quick movement of her arms it tumbled to the floor.

Her breasts were pert, round, and as I quickly discovered when she took my hands and guided them over her, quite firm. And yet they didn't feel at all fake.

Barbie steered my head and I followed her obvious suggestion. Kissing my way down, I found a dark, puffy nipple and sucked at it eagerly. She sighed as I lavished each breast with kisses and suckles, even as my hands busied themselves exploring her smooth, ebony body. She felt so... alive. Real. A real live woman, in my arms, not simply in my imagination.

I bent low as my lips traversed her supple skin, finally dropping to my knees as I reached her navel. I could feel her stomach rise and fall with her quickened breathing.

Soon enough I drew my attention to an even more intimate part of her anatomy. Her lace thong framed her sex perfectly, teasing me with the secrets it just barely concealed, inviting me to explore what hid beneath.

I looked up at her, seeking confirmation that this wasn't somehow going too far. Barbie answered by starting to pull down her panties.

"Wait." I stopped her hands. "Not yet. Let me..." I moved, pressing my nose and lips up against her. I could feel the warmth of her emanating through the material.

And my God, her scent. The scent of arousal, of womanhood. The scent that billions of years of evolution had decided would be best suited to inflaming the male of the species with the lust to procreate.

I inhaled deeply. "Fuck, you smell amazing." Pure poetry, I know. But it truly is difficult to put into words just how erotic and enticing that aroma can be.

Barbie's voice tinkled sweetly from above. "Glad you like it, sugar."

Her fragrance was intoxicating. But I needed more. "I want to taste you. Can I...?"

The enthusiasm in her response surprised me. "Oh, I'd so love that!"

Barbie took a seat on the small cot against the far wall of the room. Using the wall to support her head and shoulders, she scooted down and parted her legs.

I eagerly moved between them. As impatient as I felt, I was determined to take my time; to savor this. Again I breathed in her essence, and for a few moments I contented myself to simply kissing over her panties. But if she was truly going to allow me this, then I saw no need to delay much longer.

Pulling the cloth aside, I revealed the dark, plump flesh that surrounded her more delicate inner folds. Unlike so many modern women, Barbie had left a nice tuft of hair framing her mound, neatly trimmed and ending at the top of her cleft.

Barbie took two fingers and parted herself. A strand of glistening moisture hung between her petals like sparkling Christmas lights. I couldn't believe it. I'd barely touched her and yet she was wet, genuinely aroused.

Unable to hold back, I quickly removed the panties and dove in. My tongue slid between those juicy lips, catching the silken strand of honey on its way up to her clit. There I lingered for a moment, lapping at it with just the tip before gliding back down and thrusting deep into her hole. Her taste was strong, savory, delectable. Something I'd been craving for far too long, a craving I could now finally satisfy.

Grabbing my head, Barbie guided me back up to her pink nub, now poking out very clearly from beneath its much darker shroud. My lips closed over her swollen bud and my tongue went to work in earnest, flicking and fluttering as I gently sucked.

Satisfied sighs rewarded my efforts as her hips bucked and writhed under me. "Ohhh, yes, baby, just like that! So good, fuck!"

Oh how I'd missed this. My Ex hated oral sex, never felt comfortable with it, despite my assurances of how much I enjoyed doing it for her, how much it turned me on knowing I could give her such pleasure.

Having Barbie squirm beneath me, her sighs punctuated with the occasional gasp as I worked, brought back a self satisfaction and confidence I'd sorely been missing. My cock throbbed in my pants and I quickly released it, pumping my shaft with slow, steady strokes.

With my free hand, I guided two fingers to her opening. Despite how well lubricated she was, there was still some resistance from her incredibly tight pussy. I worked my way in slowly, gently, Barbie moaning as I finally made it past the knuckles.

Now fully inside, I resumed sucking and licking at her clit while also now wiggling my fingers, putting repeated pressure on the roof of her vaginal wall. Barbie placed a hand on the back of my head, pressing me into her. Looking up from between her legs, I could see her watching me, could read the absolute pleasure on her face. Her hips swayed in rhythm with my tongue, and her free hand pinched at her nipple.

If her body language wasn't enough, the passion in her voice as she encouraged me certainly helped convey her ever increasing arousal. "Oh, fuck, baby. That's so nice, so good. You enjoy this, don't you? Eating my warm chocolate cherry? Tasting me? Sucking out my sweet juices?"

I didn't even break contact, only nodded, which, given my position, just increased the pressure I'd already been applying.

Barbie squealed in approval. "That! Do that! Ooooh fuck right there! Up and down, right there right there right... aah, fuck!"

If she was acting, she absolutely deserved an Oscar. Especially considering the way her legs trembled. Still, it had been such a long time since a woman allowed me to do this that I had my doubts. I knew how much I was enjoying it, but could I ever truly know how much of her reaction was honest and how much was performance?

Pushing these thoughts from my mind, I doubled my efforts, despite my aching jaw and tired tongue. My cock was hard as steel, a definitive demonstration of my genuine arousal.

Barbie's vocalizations increased in volume, not at all shy about the noise, or about telling me exactly what she wanted. "Suck it! Suck my clit, suck it hard baby, oooh fuck yes just like that. Now lick, press down with your tongue, right... there! Just like that! Don't stop, don't stop, whatever you do, don't... fucking... stop!"

Now both hands were on the back of my head, pushing so hard I feared she might literally be trying to fit me inside her. I gave it my all, my tongue moving with lightning speed over her rock hard lovebud. Her squeals soon became wails as her body shook and her legs clamped tight around my head. Her entire body tensed, then convulsed as she gasped for breath.

With a final cry she pulled my head away, my face glazed with her juices, and rolled to her side, panting rapidly. Her hand moved between her legs, palming her sex almost protectively. "Holy... fuck! You made me cum... so hard!"

The part of me that wouldn't allow myself to take a compliment, that still doubted her authenticity, reared its ugly head. "Thanks. But you don't have to pretend just to stroke my ego."

Barbie sat back up to her original position, facing me, legs again open. "I wasn't pretending, hun. Look, keeping it real; most guys that come in here don't even care about my pleasure. They just wanna get off and go. The few who even bother to try only do it long enough to leave me frustrated. But you..."

She paused as she took me in, still on my knees before her, my cock still in hand. "Oh, sweetie, you didn't even..."

Her words were interrupted by a knock on the door. "Five minutes," a male voice, presumably the desk clerk, called out.

Only five minutes left? Damn. Time flies, right?

"Come here, baby," Barbie coaxed, bringing my focus back on her. "Scooch closer, that's it, nice and close. You wanna cum on my pussy, baby?"

Just the thought made me throb. Moving between her open legs, my cock lined right up with her still glistening cleft, so close I could easily have penetrated her had I tried.

Of course I didn't, instead respecting her boundaries. But as I began to pump my fist furiously, Barbie leaned in, bringing her face to mine, and spoke soft yet urgent words of encouragement. "That's it, baby, stroke for me. Go ahead, smack it on my clit; yes, it's okay, do it baby." Reaching down, she parted her lips. "Rub it on my pussy, that's it, oh fuck yeah, honey, rub that cock all over my pretty pussy, give me your hot load, I want it so bad, baby."

Her dirty talk brought me to the brink, but what sent me over the edge was when she again brought her lips to mine. They weren't deep kisses, no tongue, just soft, warm and oh so intimate. Something else I'd truly been missing.

"I can taste myself on you," she purred. "You got my sweet pussy juice all over you, hun. Now I want your cum, all over me." Reaching down, Barbie cupped my balls in her hand and gently rolled them in her palm.

That was the coup de grace. The damn had burst, and there was no holding back the raging river. I threw my head back and grunted at the ceiling as I exploded, still flailing away at my cock, smacking it on her vulva, drenching her with my spunk as she held me tight.

When at last I'd drained myself dry, I fell back, breathing heavily.

I couldn't help but admire my work. Her entire lower torso was reminiscent of a Jackson Pollock painting, white creamy globs standing out against the dark skin of her abdomen, pussy and thighs.

Barbie ran her fingers through a strand that had landed on her pubic mound, rubbing it into her bush. "Damn, baby! That was a big load! Just look at that sexy mess."

I couldn't help but blush. And apologize. "Sorry."

"Why are you sorry, hun?" Barbie grinned slyly. "I was the one who told you to cum on me, didn't I?"

"Yeah, I know, I just..." How could I explain that this was the first time a woman had ever let me ejaculate ON her? That my Ex hated the feel it, was disgusted by it? No, probably not the right time to bring that up.

Instead, I simply offered, "Just stay there, don't move, let me...." Reaching in my back pocket, I pulled out the packet of wet wipes I'd brought. I figured I'd need them to clean myself up, but certainly hadn't expected to need them for her as well.

"Aw, so sweet," Barbie giggled. "I have some in my bag, too. But I like that you came prepared."

Barbie sat, watching me with her stunning eyes as I cleaned her. It was odd, yet strangely titillating, to wipe my effluence from her. I've often wondered why men so enjoy the sight of our cum on a woman. Perhaps some residual evolutionary thing about marking one's territory. Or maybe we just watch too much porn, who knows?

Barbie snapped me back to reality, startling as my hand brushed over her clit. "Oh! Go easy, baby, still sensitive."

"Sorry," I offered again. "You wanna...?"

"No, no, go ahead, baby, I'm enjoying you doing it, just... yeah, like that, nice and easy."

I'd just finished mopping up the last of it when there was another knock. "Time!"

Standing, I adjusted my pants, then reached into my pocket and handed her my last twenty. "Here, a little extra for you. Thank you. I really enjoyed that. It was... wonderful. Exactly what I needed."

"Thank you, hun. You didn't have to tip, but thank you."

We hugged, and Barbie kissed me one last time, just on the cheek. "I enjoyed myself too, baby. You come back and see me again, okay?"

"I'll definitely be back." After a final squeeze, I reluctantly let go. Barbie dressed quickly then opened the door for me. "Hope to see you soon, sugar."

***

Reality set in as I exited the building and returned to my car. I felt a variety of mixed emotions about the whole thing. Excited by just how erotic and fun the experience had been, yet embarrassed that I'd had to pay for it. Proud that I'd made her cum, overjoyed at how intimate and natural the experience had felt, start to finish. And yet realistic enough to understand there was nothing truly emotional about it; that it was, while enjoyable, still merely transactional.

Absently, I brought my fingers to my nose. Her scent was still strong on them. Tossing aside any negative thoughts, I decided to just focus on the positives.

I'd had an amazing time with a beautiful woman. And while I wasn't foolish enough to believe she actually cared for me in THAT way, she had demonstrated true joy in her work, treating me like a person, not just another client.

She was very good at her job. So what was there to be negative about, right?

I couldn't stop sniffing my fingers the entire drive home. I'd have to wash my hands eventually, of course. But not before I ran to my bedroom, stripped off my clothes and spent just a little more time enjoying her essence and dreaming of my beautiful Black Barbie.

***END***

AUTHORS AFTERWARDS

I absolutely hate the stigma behind sex work. I understand there are darker sides to it. But I see nothing inherently wrong with the trading of sexual services for money, and see no shame in those who choose to work in the sex industry, and those who choose to employ their services.

Thanks for coming to my TED talk ????. I'll step down from the soap box now.

I need to thank, as always, my friend Emily Miller for her proofreading and editing advice.

And of course Thank you for taking the time to read my work.

Ratings, comments and feedback are always appreciated below.