The Prostitute

Part 12

Drama Time🐸☕

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Hectic could not begin to describe the past few months for Lauren. From the moment she woke to the moment her back hit the bed, she was moving, going places, talking to people, smiling, filming, and pretending. She finally reconciled with Dinah, and found a friend in her faux boyfriend who was going through the exact same things she was. It gave Lauren two crutches that kept her going as she raged through the filming of her movie and the events related to it.

The end of the week was stark and clear and Lauren's heart was filled with yearning. After weeks of packed scheduling, she had a day off. Just one, and she's back into the fray, but she vowed to herself that she would make the most out of that day off. Which was why she already booked an appointment with Camila.

If Lauren was being truthful, there were days where her mind would slip and she would think about the brunette again, her lean body pressed against hers as she rocked her body into another screaming orgasm. Camila had what Lauren needed; something that she couldn't seem to get anywhere else without feeling guilty. Sure, Steven was a great man, but he wasn't boyfriend material. Lauren supposed that no one is. Her heart was still set on Camila.

She had yet to tell Dinah about any of this, which was all well and good, since she already knew her manager's stance regarding her affections for Camila. Them being moronic and superfluous, like a teenager's supposed bright idea. Though her reasons were unknown, Dinah was persistent regarding this fact: Camila was, in any way, not a good match for Lauren Jauregui.

Friday dawned, and as soon as Lauren woke up, her body was ready and roaring to go. She got up, ate a simple breakfast of vegan crepes and peach slices, brushed her teeth and had a short workout. By the time she was finished, Delilah was knocking against her door, ready to clean her home, which she did efficiently and just the way Lauren expected her to.

And as soon as Delilah was gone, as soon as the spoor of cleaning detergent and soap dissipated into the air thanks to the vents and Lauren's scented candles, Lauren texted Camila and told her that she was free to come over at any given time. Within the hour, Camila was knocking, and Lauren was pulling her in. Lauren shoved at the door. There was no click of the lock, but she paid it no mind.

"I need it," Lauren gasped out, her fingers fumbling with Camila's's belt buckle. "Camila, please. I haven't had sex in days."

"Your boyfriend not doing it for you?" The prostitute asked as they stumbled along the foyer, her lips against Lauren's pulse point. Her question raised a brow and brought a cessation to their clumsy attempt at getting each other naked. "Excuse me?" Lauren demanded.

"Nothing," Camila assured her, effective only because her palms roamed Lauren's's ass and hiked her up Camila's's leg. She carried her onto the couch, where she knelt and removed the buttons of her shirt, one by one. Lauren's chest rose and fell, her eyes raking along the champagne skin of Camila's abs, the colour she longed to drink in. Lauren unclasped the button of Camila's's trousers, reached her hand in, and moaned. Her cock, hard as granite, pulsing and warm against her hand.

"I missed your cock." Lauren husked, an attempt to be seductive. Which seemed odd. Was she not the one who pays to be seduced? It was ridiculous, of course. Lauren never had to pay to be seduced by Camila. One look, and she was mush.

The brunette, however, did not miss a beat. "I'm sure you did." She smirked, cool fingers trailing up Lauren's's soft thigh. Her skin felt cold due to the below freezing weather from which she just came from, but not her cock. Camila's cock was hard and hot and rearing to go, to slip inside Lauren's warm crevice, where it belonged. Thrusting up into the actress' hand, Camila rid her of her skirt and panties, and sucked a nipple into her mouth.