Nadine, Nadine vignette 1

• Foreword
  
• On the back
  
• ***Nadine***
  
• About the Author
  
• Acknowledgements
  
• Contact Me
  

Thank you for picking up a copy of “Nadine.” It was great fun working on this story, and I hope you enjoy your read!

This vignette contains hot consensual sex between a handsome angel and an out-of-work nurse.

The model depicted on the cover of this erotic vignette is not affiliated with the author, nor do they endorse the story within.

Thank you,

Gabriella Webster

Nadine’s life is turned upside down when she loses her job as a nurse in a local urgent care facility. Months later, after all other options have
failed, she turns to prostitution as a last-ditch effort to keep a roof over her head. The work is tolerable. The men adequate. Until one night
Nadine’s angel appears.

Will he sweep her off her feet like he’s promised, or is he just like all the other johns?

*This is the first vignette between Nadine and her angel.

These vignettes are erotic glimpses into Nadine’s life and the life of her angel.

Blush Warning
: 18+ explicit sex depicted between consenting humans and non-humans.

Nadine
is a
6500
word erotic vignette.

The cheap industrial carpet on the floor of Nadine’s rented efficiency apartment bit into her knees. Yet it was the nicest of all her current
discomforts. If pressed, she would have admitted that, at the moment, the large cock ramming the back of her throat had to be the worst.
A woman has be paid to do something
, she thought sadly.

“Look at me,” the man—john, trick, whatever—said to her through clenched teeth. He gripped the base of his cock in one hand and the back of
her head with the other, guiding her up and down his shaft the way he liked.

This john was a regular. A repeat customer. Regulars were appreciated. It made knowing how to please them so much easier.

Nadine tried her best to raise her eyes to meet his. Not an easy thing while bobbing up and down on a large cock. Her palms rested against his thighs, her
thumbs grazing his sac at the crease. He groaned. “Fuck, Lynn. I wanna come on your face.”

She moaned her approval, and tried to nod. She didn’t care how he finished as long as he did. Soon, too, if it wasn’t too much trouble. Her jaw
ached.

“You look so beautiful with your lips around my cock,” he murmured and let his head fall backward.

He was close. Really close.

Thank God!

Nadine worked harder. The distinctive taste of pre-cum coated her tongue.

“Fuck,” he growled, shoving his dick farther down her throat, and she struggled not to gag. Regretfully, it had taken turning tricks for Nadine
to learn how to deep-throat. It was a skill a few of her former boyfriends would have enjoyed.

What has my life come to?
She groaned. Discouraged.

The john mistook the noise as further approval, and he pounded into her harder. The first splash of cum hit the back of her throat, and she swallowed as
the john pulled free of her mouth with a small pop.

He pumped his hand down his cock, milking it, and she closed her eyes as more semen splashed on her face. He finished with a growl, and tapped her lips
with the crown of his cock.

When it was clear he was finished, she opened her eyes. He’d already pulled up his pants and tucked himself inside, when their gazes met.
“Fuck, Lynn. I love looking at myself on you.” He stepped back, and fished his wallet out from his back pocket. “Damn. It looks
good.”

Nadine couldn’t believe it. He had that hungry I-want-more look again. He had better pay for regular sex this time. She didn’t think she could
perform another blow job for him so soon after the last one. He really was that big, or her mouth really was that small.

He pulled a bill out and tossed it to the ground in front of her. He then walked to the door and stopped. “Next week,” he said over his
shoulder.

She smiled. “Anytime. You know my number.”

“Be ready, sugar.”

“I will be.”

“Good.” Then he walked out the door, closing it softly behind him.

She slumped in relief.
Regulars.
It was good to have them.

Nadine sighed again, and retrieved the tip from the floor.
A twenty. Heh.
She stood and made her way to the tiny bathroom where she kept a small
metal lockbox at the back of a drawer in the vanity. She shoved the bill into it. She’d clean up first, then take the time to secure the cash before
going out to look for more work.

Splashing water on her face, she washed off her smeared makeup and the client’s cum. She patted her face dry and gazed at her reflection.
“Nadine, are you sure you did everything you could? Are you sure this was the only answer?” It wasn’t the first time she’d
questioned her choices in life. It wasn’t like she’d wanted to be a prostitute. But now… The money was good enough to live on and she
wasn’t on the streets turning tricks in alleyways. Her head fell forward to land against the mirror with a thud.

She
had
tried everything, hadn’t she? She hadn’t given up too early, had she? She hadn’t settled, right? Nadine sighed. “No,
you did all you could,” she told herself, needing to believe her decision to sell sex had been a last ditch effort to keep her real apartment. The
one on the edge of North City. The one she went home to after working each night. The miniscule roach-infested, one-bedroom place in a dicey neighborhood,
sandwiched between the really bad parts of St. Louis and the I’m-doing-a-damn-good-job-at-being-bad parts of town just south of it.

She rolled her head side to side, and then thumped it against the glass.

If it hadn’t been for the new administration at her urgent care facility, she’d still have a job. But, no! They had needed to set an example.
Needed to put their employees in their places. The new managers had been flush with power and had enacted several new policies. One of these new rules
regarded patient records. The new paperwork was time consuming, repetitive, and irritating, but everyone had agreed; it was necessary. Then one day, Nadine
had forgotten to file a form. Just one form. And she hadn’t been the only one. All three of the “offending” employees had been let go.
Blacklisted. Never to work as nurses again. Nadine didn’t know what to do. She’d never been anything else.

Nadine groaned. In one unilateral decision by management, she had gone from gainfully employed to banned. She’d broken the rules,
yes—accidentally—but it wasn’t fair to punish her so severely. It wasn’t as if she killed a patient. It was paperwork, for God’s sake.
Paperwork that never had been needed before! So she had left nursing and tried her hand at a few retail jobs, but they didn’t pay the rent. After
receiving a final warning and facing eviction, she’d turned to the oldest profession.

Prostitution… Mom would be so proud,
she thought sarcastically. Good thing Mom wasn’t around to see her precious Nadine’s fall from grace.
Rest in peace, Mom.

It wasn’t fair.

“Life’s not fair, little girl. Suck it up.” Nadine pulled away from the mirror. After brushing her teeth, she began reapplying her
makeup. She had an appointment with another regular in two hours, but she wouldn’t be able to pay rent if she didn’t go out there and find some
new business. Thank God for the agreement with the landlord of this shitty efficiency she used to turn her tricks. He let her rent it for next to nothing
and a free poke once a month. Without it, she’d have to bring the clients back to her real apartment, and that was a recipe for disaster. She’d
turn those tricks in the alleyway before she’d let her johns know where she lived. As it was, they often turned up there uninvited.

Nadine stretched her lips wide to apply her lipstick, then blotted them. She checked the application.
Good enough. Not like the johns give a fuck anyway.
She squared her shoulders and squinted at her reflection. Was that a cum stain on her shirt? She
rolled her eyes.
The. Johns. Don’t. Care!
“Dear God, make me a bird so I can fly far, far away,” she chanted, quoting one of her
all-time favorite movies. She’d gladly be a bird if it meant leaving all this behind.

“God—as you know him—cannot hear you,” a man said.

Her eyes flew to the mirror. Who was in her apartment? She cursed her stupidity. She hadn’t locked the door after the prior trick left.

Nadine whipped around to face the newcomer. He had to be the most gorgeous man to ever grace her crappy efficiency. Her gaze traveled from his nicely
shined shoes, up his gray tailored pants, to his pressed white business shirt. He towered over her, which was saying a lot. He had to be at least a full
foot taller than her measly height of five-nine. And, boy, was he built. Not in the hi-I’m-a-bodybuilder-and-look-gross way, but in the
hi-I-like-to-do-sports-lots-of-sports way. His square jaw was covered in day-old stubble, and he had the palest blue eyes she’d ever seen.

Spectacular.

A lock of his black curly hair fell into his left eye. He swept it back with one hand and grinned at her.

Holy shit!
That smile would melt any woman’s panties off. Good thing she wasn’t wearing any. But why was he here? With his good looks, one visit to a bar
and he wouldn’t need her. He’d get all the milk for free.

Then she saw why. Nadine swallowed hard.

Another john with elaborate fantasies. She shook her head in disbelief.

He had wings. Fluffy, white, downy wings!

This man took time with his angel costume. The wings looked real, not at all like those cardboard cutouts with white chicken feathers pasted on. These
wings had no visible straps.
They must be attached with a harness under his shirt
. “Come back later,” Nadine demanded. She could only
handle one high-maintenance john a night.

“How much?”

For the love of God, really?
“Not tonight. Come back tomorrow.”

“I am not complicated,” he promised. “How much?”

“Are you serious?” she asked, incredulous. She’d just told him to get out.

“I am,” he replied with a shrug.

Did his wings just move?

The man looked around her small room and then to the bed. Slowly, he returned his gaze to her. She knew that look. He was serious.

Nadine cocked her head to the side, considering. He was attractive, and more importantly, he was here. She wouldn’t have to walk the street tonight
to find a new client.
He better not be one of those bondage types. Not on the first trick, anyway.

“How did you find me? Did someone send you?”

“Yes.”

“Who?” If she knew who recommended her, maybe she’d know if she could trust him or not.

“John.”

Nadine snickered in dismay, and muttered, “They’re all named John.” Louder, she asked, “Who sent you, really?”

“John,” he replied. “From the Air Force base.” His sexy grin faded a bit. “If you do not wish my patronage, I will go
elsewhere.”

“No.” She couldn’t turn away a referral from the base. Soldiers were good money, and word would get around if she turned him away.
Besides, it wasn’t like this was her first high fantasy client. Just the first one with fluffy wings. She plastered on her biggest, brightest smile.
“Don’t go.”

His smirk returned. “Excellent. How much?”

“Twenty-five for a hand job. Fifty for oral, seventy-five if you want completion that way. A hundred for regular sex—condom is mandatory. I
won’t budge on that. Any kinks or other turn-ons I handle on a per request basis,” Nadine replied. “Oh, and no anal,” she added. He
seemed the type.

“Really? Why?”

Yep. He was the type.

“It hurts and the johns—er, clients aren’t always gentle,” she explained.

The man nodded. “Fair enough.” He gazed at her for a moment, deciding. “Oral and sex it is, then.”

“Hundred-fifty,” she acknowledged, then added, “Up front.” Who knew if this guy would really pay?