Beep beep.

Nancy checked her pager. Five men had her number, and nobody else – this afternoon it was Michael who was letting her know she was needed. She slipped the pager into her pocket and got into her car, turning up the tunes. She only really listened to classic rock, so she blasted some ACDC as she made her way down the highway.

It was a demanding job, since she had to be on call 24 hours a day. Sometimes she would get a message at 2 in the morning and would have to drag herself out of bed and on her way to Brett’s place (he was a light sleeper) or maybe George’s apartment. She cruised past the shops and made her way to the small residential area where Michael’s three-bedroom house sat on a corner near a playground.

She let herself in with a key (she had one to every house she serviced) and paused in the downstairs bathroom to make sure she wasn’t too ratty. Her black hair, with the curl down the side of her face, needed a little comb, but apart from that she was pretty good. She wasn’t wearing a tight dress or heels or anything like that, thank God. It was a perk of the job that she could go to work in sweat pants and nobody would complain.

She made her way upstairs and into Michal’s bedroom. There she saw the man with one hand wrapped around his cock and the other playing with his phone.

“Finally. Get over here,” he grunted. Nancy complied and pulled off her sweat pants and panties along the way. A small, shaved pussy was sitting ready for him, and he wasted no time in grabbing her by the hips. Nancy sat astride him and gasped softly as she slid his length inside her.

Michael grunted and thrust a few times, but the beauty of Nancy’s job was that she didn’t have to wait long; he had already done the hard part. He grunted and she felt the warm liquid seep into her and she sat astride him for a good few minutes while he completely finished.

“Thanks,” he said, then he pushed her off and laced his fingers around the back of his head, relaxing. Nancy grabbed some tissues and cleaned herself up, then, without a word, grabbed her clothes and got up to leave.

Being a 24/7 cum dump was demanding in terms of hours, but there really wasn’t much actual work involved in it. Usually she would just get calls to be a recepticle for a man’s semen, then she would politely leave and she’d be fine for a few hours, or if she was lucky, a whole day, before she needed to be there again.

She put on her panties and her pager went off. She sighed and pulled it out of her pocket as she slipped her pants back on.

George wanted her now. She went back to her car and blared the ACCDC once more, and pulled out of Michael’s driveway.

It was such a demanding job.

End of Part 1. Check out Part 2.