Sweet Lips was the nickname they gave me, not because of my mouth.

Usually there was two, three or four of us, never more than four. We were dressed in tight soccer jerseys from championship teams, always too small, our breasts and nipples poking out. No pants, no underpants, soccer socks and new sneakers.

We were the desert. After the meal, when they were having their after dinner scotch or brandy, we were brought out and we sat on the table with our legs open, our pussies always trimmed but not bald, we held ourselves up with our hands behind us, the madam would then bathe our pussies in syrups, and the men would go down and slurp, suck, lick up the desert. They could lick and suck as long as they wanted, although usually the tasty treat was gone after a few minutes. Cigars were passed around, the men had their drink and cigar, we sat quietly on the table with our pussies open and they would use our vaginas to insert and bathe the cigars, a MONICA.

All of us were pretty, we had to wear our hair straight and long, no make up, we had to be pretty without make up, our lips had a bit of gloss, the madam trimmed us so we would be perfect. We were recruited at school, we were paid for each dinner party we served. In my house I had to save the money, I couldn't explain how I had so much money so I saved it. Other girls bought themselves clothes or other items, I guess in their homes no one asked.

No fucking, absolutely no fucking. There were other girls for that, we were only for desert, very expensive, an after the meal delicacy. The madam told us she learned about it in Japan and she discovered that her clients would pay whatever she priced us at. As we grew older, and we were no longer suitable for the dinner table, she offered us to stay and entertain the men in the salon, or the bedroom, if they wanted to pay. I dropped out because I had a gentleman who wanted to look after me, but several of the girls I knew from our school stayed because of the money they could make.

A few of us found gentlemen who took us over when we were the right age, but this was not true for a lot of the girls. The man I was set up with owned several car dealerships, and from time to time I had to do advertising or promotions. He was a long time client of the madam, and he always asked for me after dinner. He didn't want me on the floor or in the salon, and he could pay to keep me away.


Sweet Lips, I was Sweet Lips to him and even long after I had outgrown the dinner table at the madam's place, he had me for an after dinner delight, always thinking of different sauces, or condiments, or syrups to use.

One day you are grown up, you live in an apartment that is kept for your gentleman, you drive a nice car. Your family lives back there, where you grew up, where you went to the school that the madam recruited you from. If your pretty, you could get recruited. Not all the girls are pretty or had the right color skin. Not white, definitely not black, light smooth honey colored skin, lots of Puerto Rican girls from the neighborhood have light honey colored skin. That is why the madam went to our school to recruit for her dinner table, or for the salon if you weren't right for the dinner table.

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