Mother

"By the heavens, Madame," the merchant piped. His stubby circumcised cock, still adorned with her lipstick prints, twitched in pleasure.

"My Rabbi Herschel was right about you.” his rank pudgy length quivered as he flicked the last drops of his ejaculate onto her cheek, adding to the bright yellow streaks and white dots already left by others that had left.

"You truly are a goddess among women." 

In the dimly lit secret 4^th floor room, the amorous Madame Du Crete satisfied her last client beside the half drawn window, her orgy- soiled form bathed in the final glow of the setting sun. A small army with trousers rebuttoned had already raced out without closing the door. Their laughter boomed down her stairs, their generous checks beside her bed, and they would be raving about her to their circumcised friends, her kiss still a lipstick of ample proof on each of their well-polished cocks. 

After all, it's not every day one get to lose their virginity to her lauded face and holes. That's why uncle deserved the best for last.

Madame's seed covered eyelashes batted, and she smiled up at him with her bloodshot men-stung eyes. "And you, dear Monsieur Levi, have outdone yourself.” Her cum-streaked cheeks quivered from her self inflicted orgasm, Her filthy tongue licked up his unmistakable stale malt taste from her swollen lips.

“Rabbi Herschel was a dear friend.” she confessed, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. Her mind drifting back to her early days in Paris. "He was very kind as my landlord, and he set me up in this world.” 

“I was the Peligesh he toasted about.”

“..and also Rabbi Elias'.”

“I love all sons of Abraham.”

She winked at the merchant, who chuckled in delight and renewed interest.

"Well, that explains your... enthusiasm and lack of discrimination.” a lewd grin spreading across the man's face as his eyes surveyed the wild streaks on her well- plastered face, admiring those ones that were finally his own. 

Madame offered a blush at his words, "Why, thank you, Monsieur Levi. I do try to live up to my reputation." but she couldn't help but feel a twinge of something else. This was her life - a life that was now her name, a series of empty encounters with men who saw her only as a vessel, nay, water-closet for their desires and passions. But she had her unassailable priorities...

Suddenly, Madame's eyes widened as she noticed something out of the corner of her eye. Her son stood in the doorway, his large fuzzy bear toy clutched in his arms. His eyes were wide, his gaze blinking at his mother in confusion, oblivious to the incriminating evidence that clung to her face.

For a moment, time seemed to stand still. The merchant quickly pulled his pants back up and distracted himself. Madame's hammering heart raced as she grasped for a cover story.

"Oh, chéri," she stuttered, her voice a little too bright. Bright white wads clung to her hitched smile like cream shavings, while curdled yellow ribbons a fishnet pattern on her steamy cheek.

"Sweetie, what are you doing here?" the mother asked, her voice tight with fear. 

Her son blinked at her, then at the strange man afraid to meet his face, "I was playing with sisters in the playroom, and I heard you laughing," he said, his voice purer than pure. "I wanted to see what was so funny."

The mother took a deep breath and forced a quick smile. "Well, sweetie, I was just having a little fun with a friend," she said, her voice tight but still steady in her familiar sweetness which he knew. "But now it's time for bed, comporte-toi bien pour maman?”

The boy beamed and scampered over, wrapping his small arms around her naked form in a tight hug. The whore Du Crete closed her eyes, her heart pounding in her chest.

Instead of kissing him on his scalp as she so often does, instead she made the popping sound of a peck over his hug with her blemished lips. her eyes darted nervously between his tiny form and the still present client.

“Go and tell your sisters that Mama will soon tuck them in."

He hugged her long pink leg last time before running off, his fuzzy bear trailing behind him.

Once he left, Madame let out a sigh of relief, her body trembling with the aftermath of the close call. She turned back to the pair of eyes that were still watching her.

"I must apologize for that," her voice low and contrite.

As the door closed behind the merchant, Madame let out a deep sigh. She was alone again beside the window, surrounded by the vile trappings she had fashioned for herself.

Her tall body slumped against the chaise lounge and she looked over at her doppelganger in the mirror- the face hating back that was dirtier than a street plinth covered with centuries of pigeon droppings. She had given so much of herself to them who passed through her life, but she had never truly given herself to any of them. 

Like so many times and nights before, her mind began to drift toward to the rose colored dream of the life she wanted, the life she once thought could be hers, that she should could take them and escape to. But she squashed that fantasy with a mirthless wince. She had her unassailable priorities...and for them she had no use of those useless dreams. 

Instead the mother wiped her sin-lashed face and made it the face she always wore for them. She had long stopped living for herself, or her dysentery claimed body. She still have some time, and once it's all over there and will be enough for them. The nightdress slipped up and wrapped around her aching figure as she retraced her son's steps with a night candle in hand, along with a full night of bedtime stories she yet had left to give.