Well, here I am, just a few days after lending myself to my partner, and the story is already repeating itself. It's hard to believe, but I'm driving again towards an unknown destination to serve two strangers. I have their phone number and nickname from the app, so at least I've seen their profile. I don't see their faces, they have morbid photos, but no faces. Again, I'm expected to serve people I've never seen. Should I be bothered? Maybe, but who am I kidding, as I think about all this, I feel like a total slut.

On the 7th test, I was heading to a rural area, many kilometers from the city, this time I'm approaching a well-known area in Madrid. I park and arrive at one of those modern condominiums, where people live together sharing a pool, park, etc.

Before calling, I send a WhatsApp to Koller, since lately, he's been ordering me to let him know before entering and right after leaving after providing my service. Normally, he takes advantage of the exchange of messages to gloat, ask me how I feel, and always, always, the word "whore" or "bitch" appears in the conversation. It humiliates me to hear it, but right now, on the verge of calling to be fucked by strangers, my brain can't fight against those words, because it knows they're true.

I call the intercom, and the first impression is good, a masculine voice. Good, it calms me down. Now I'm not feeling like a total slut, I've got it well hidden because now it's nervousness that dominates, not horniness. I'm so nervous that I'm pissing myself. I enter the portal and head to a door, these moments are the most intense. Every time I lend myself, I always think: "what are you doing, dude?" "you're crazy!" But, like other times, the bitch in me wins, I imagine two cocks waiting for me, and I end up ringing the bell.

A guy opens the door, not very tall, shaved head, neither very fat nor very thin, with a very dark mustache. At first glance, I'm surprised by that look, it's a very strong and classic masculinity. It's hard to explain, but he exudes the kind of energy that sometimes a civil guard exudes, that kind of virility. He asks me to come in, and I hear the same voice from the intercom, with a pleasant tone that gives confidence. He doesn't order me, he invites me to enter. He makes me feel comfortable, and I appreciate it.

I don't have time to see much, I perceive an apartment of people who like to have things tidy and clean, with a certain air of cultured and traveled guys. Lost in my thoughts, I receive a kiss, and a good one. Sometimes I forget that for the guys Koller lends me to, I'm supposed to be something like a whore, that once you've closed the door, you can push me against the wall and fuck me hard, cum, and throw me out.

I'm exaggerating, because the guy really kisses me with passion, well, and with a lot of respect. The day promises! I feel his hands on my back going down to my ass. I feel how they palpate, trying to discover if...