Thread: A Little Sex Training {darkest_fate&DeliciousLust}

They didn't kid when they called Robbi a pansexual deviant. or when they called her a nymphomaniac. It might have interfered with her life if she'd picked something more humdrum and boring as a career. Then again, the piercings and excessive tattoos dotting her soft mocha skin would've had her turned away at many gigs, despite the bewitching face and clever green eyes. Robbi was the brilliant product of American breeding a perfect mixture of several races that turned out someone decidedly minority but likely had a drop of every majority in her as well. Green eyes, slender curves, and a killer bust. The latter did happen to be slightly enhanced when you were in Robbi's profession, such things came standard. Her profile on the website ranked her as one of the rougher of her type. It read that she could take the shyest girl or most timid guy and turn them into a living, breathing sex god. Attractiveness didn't matter so long as you had the right parts Robbi would fuck you. More importantly, she'd train you to grab your own sexuality by the horns. Put simply, the woman was a sex trainer. The profession itself happened to be fairly new and very avant garde, certainly edgy, but thanks to celebrity endorsements, they'd grown by leaps and bounds. Robbi herself had gone through a decent list of clients, albeit nobody famous enough to name drop, unless you happened to be in the greater Chicago area. The woman pulled out the latest iPhone and pulled up the dossier on her latest client. She had to purse her lips, feeling the ring shot through her left side dig a little. Robbi had fucked her share of people, but this particular girl probably ranked in the top five hottest. Fuck, she probably ranked near the top ten of people Robbi had outright seen . According to the request, if Robbi was reading right or the info given true, both of which which only possibilities, this particular hottie had done well enough during high school. That was back when finding out that someone else liked your genitals was generally enough for celebration. True, Robbi had been fucking older boys by fourteen, but she knew that not everyone developed as fast as her in both a literal and emotional sense. But apparently the poor girlie had been having a helluva time keeping a partner in more recent times. Said that she often just didn't know what to do with sex and didn't have a clue where to even start. Enter me, Robbi said, her voice a little throaty. She chuckled and reached for a glass in front of her. As per usual, the first meeting was to take place in a moderately scaled hotel bar. Robbi had dressed in tight black denim jeans with a sleeveless black tee that showed off her pierced belly if she moved right. A loose shirt hung over her to hide most of it, giving her a strange look of class and crass. She sat at a table tucked away in the corner one reserved by her agency just for rendevous like this. The procedure was simple. Meet the client. If the client agreed with the pairing, then they headed upstairs and tested baseline sexual knowledge. In short they met at a hotel for a hookup. This would let the trainer understand what they were working with and the trainee what to expect. Details could be hashed out, and public flirting was to be expected. Generally part of the process entailed making sure that the bar knew the client and trainer were going upstairs to fuck often the clients had sexual hangups. Hell, Robbi all but specialized in exhibitionism, and she was already pressing her thighs together and squirming as she looked over this picture. Wonder if she's shopped? the woman asked, tilting her head and flicking the screen again. She took a sip of her drink, enjoying the slight kick of the alcohol as it poured into her system. Slightly almond shaped green eyes tore away from the screen to scan the room again, knowing that the beauty should be entering any moment now. The clients had this tendency to arrive either way early or way late, and Robbi was betting on the former for this particular one. The table had been set with the little placard proclaiming Robbi's agency, and it wasn't as if the client wouldn't recognize her from the picture on the site. So it was just a matter of playing the waiting game. Bored already, Robbi looked back at her phone, tilting the submitted pictures to examine. As per regulation, there was to be at least one of the client in her sexiest outfit. This looked pretty damn good, so at least they had that as a starting point. Of course, the client had sent measurements and there was a sack of clothes waiting in the room... along with other things, depending on how the night went. Robbi hummed to herself as she tapped, smiling slightly at the thought of just where the night would go from there.