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Vice Versa

By: Abelard7



Chapter one. -- The Oldest Profession.

It took me a long time to adjust to civilian life. After nine years in the army, it was to be expected. I was stupid, I refused all the 'rehabilitation' training. I needed to put army life behind me, the idea that I was still connected in any way was just not acceptable. But I could not have imagined that I would fuck my way back to normality.

I had joined at eighteen and had loved it from the start. Once basic training was over, it was obvious that this was the life for me. I survived Northern Ireland, took a Taliban bullet in 'Operation Enduring Freedom' and could not wait to get back to Afghanistan. So what changed after nine happy years? One word -- Iraq.

I was there for six months and never did find out why. We were simply not welcome, all Iraqis resented our presence. The thought of being sent back gave me nightmares, I convinced myself that I would not survive a second tour. So I got out.

That was when my real problems started.

At first, I had no trouble getting a job, but could not stick to anything for long. Army life is nomadic and I missed the variety. Jobs became harder to find and they were increasingly dead-end. My last proper job was stacking supermarket shelves on the night shift. But it paid well enough provided I put in enough hours.

I can see now that part of my problem was loneliness. I had little in common with my colleagues, most of whom were straight-from-school misfits. Available females were much younger than me and were more interested in their own age group. Women of my age seemed to be married. Mostly anyway, there were a few divorcees and a few career girls who had shunned domesticity. These became my target group.

I found that if I hung around Hotel bars on weekday evenings, (Which was mostly when my nights off fell.) there was often a woman, away from home on business, looking for 'entertainment'. It became a sort of hobby. I suppose I scored about once a week on average. This was how I met Karen.

Along with all the other men, I watched her enter the room and park her elegant arse on a bar stool. I was away from the bar, at a table from where I could watch comings and goings. She put her handbag on the stool next to her, as if to reserve it. So I just watched. She was gorgeous. Tall, brunette and voluptuous. She wore an expensive looking cocktail dress which accentuated all the right parts.

After a few minutes it became obvious that if she was meeting someone, they were either late or not coming. She was eventually approached by a man, but dismissed him with a shake of the head. Another tried, then another. Same response.

Not hooking then. I decided to risk a refusal. She was worth it.

"Is this seat taken?" I asked politely.

She quickly appraised me and moved her bag, which I took as an invitation.

"Top up?" I asked, indicating her almost empty glass.

Again those brown eyes assessed me. She nodded. I waved to the barman, who I knew quite well. She spoke for the first time, to order her drink. I added my choice and the barman, Trevor, incurably gay, swayed off to get our drinks.

I introduced myself. "I'm Adrian."

"Karen." She offered, almost reluctantly.

Close up, she had rather a hard look, used to getting her own way perhaps. She was about forty I guessed. But she was built for fucking. An hour later, she had my life story, including my present, no future, future. We were getting on like old friends. I had scored. Three days worth of saved up semen were going to find a new home.

Or so I thought.

"Look," she said, "if you are expecting to get into my knickers tonight, you're out of luck."

My disappointment must have been obvious. She went on:

"What are you doing on Saturday morning?"

"Nothing." I replied.

She wrote her name on the back of a coaster and handed it to me.

"Ten o'clock. Here. Ask for me at the desk." Then she was gone.

I scanned the room. I could see no further prospects, so I left too. I lay in bed wondering what Saturday would bring. I could not get Karen out of my mind. The more I thought of her, the harder my prick became. Eventually, she did make me come, as the inspiration for a very satisfying wank.

I was back at the hotel at ten to ten on Saturday, having finished my shift with enough time for a shower and shave. As instructed, I presented myself at reception.

I was told to go to the top floor. Room 507. I tapped on the door and Karen answered. She was wearing a well tailored suit and a white, high necked blouse. The room was in fact, a suite. We entered a small lounge, with two sofas facing each other and a coffee table between. On the table was a tray with two cups and a Thermos jug of coffee. Karen waved me to a seat on one of the sofas and sat down opposite. She poured coffee for both of us then leaned back. The suit jacket could not hide the thrust of what I suspected were spectacular tits.

"So," she began, "you're looking for more challenging employment? I might be able to help. Have you ever been to a brothel or 'massage parlour'?"

I choked slightly on the coffee. Where was this leading? I decided to be completely honest and own up. I nodded my affirmation.

"Why?" She asked.

Strange question. "To get fucked." I replied.

"Yes, but why a brothel, why not a girl friend?"

"Various reasons, the first time was with a group of squaddies in Germany. It's what soldiers do on days off, a pub crawl, then a shag."

"And subsequently?"

"I suppose because it's 'no strings' sex. Sometimes you want to be sure of what you're going to get, rather than the hit and miss of picking someone up."

"Like Thursday night? You spent half the evening scouting, the rest buying me drinks and still didn't get what you hoped for. A professional will always come up with the goods.

I nodded. "Something like that."

She went on. "Are you aware that women sometimes feel that way, that they might just want a good fucking with no strings?"

"A woman on her own doesn't stay that way for long, there is usually someone like me to give her what she wants."

"But no guarantee that it's the way she likes it. And bar pick-ups often can't perform at all, because of the drink."

I was still not sure where this was going, but I had the beginnings of a hard-on.

Karen delivered the punch line. "I run a massage parlour for women. Does that shock you?"

"Nothing much shocks me. And if what you say about women is true, it does not surprise me either. But..."

She interrupted. "You're wondering what sort of woman would pay for sex? You would be surprised at that."

"Surprise me then." I countered.

"The fact is that most women are not satisfied with their sex-lives. Once a woman has experienced really good sex, it's what she wants all the time. In marriage it becomes routine, a woman wants variety, a bit of spice. Then there are women who are away from home, looking for illicit, one night stands, but are usually disappointed. If they pay for it, they can call the shots. And it can be as dirty as they want. No recriminations."

She poured another coffee for herself, mine was hardly touched.

"Interested?" She asked.

"In being a male prostitute? I had never even thought of it." I replied.

She corrected me. "Not a prostitute, a male companion."

"Go on, tell me about it." I picked up my coffee and leaned back in the seat.

"The client comes to my premises selects her companion, pays up front and is shown to the massage room. There is a shower and a massage table. She is left alone to undress, shower and relax ready for her treatment. The companion knocks on the door and when invited, joins her. He asks her to lie face down on the table and massages her back. Then he asks her to turn over and does the front, concentrating on the obvious erogenous zones. When he judges her to be ready, he concentrates on the genital area, finally her clit and, well, wanks her off.

"That is what the basic charge of £50 covers, any extras are between the two of them, but there is an unofficial scale of charges. If she wants licking off, that's £25 If she wants to be fucked, £25. What she does not get, is his spunk. That is expensive. You might think otherwise, but most men can only expect to come once a day on a regular basis and once you've spent it, you may as well go home for the rest of the day. That's why the come shot in blue movies is called the money shot. It's precious stuff. If a woman is prepared to pay that much, she is entitled to see a good one, another reason for the 'once a day rule'. There is no point in him coming inside her cunt either, she won't get to see it except perhaps in the condom afterwards, which incidentally, he must wear whether he fucks her in the cunt or the arse. He can come in her mouth, if that's what she wants, or just give her a show with his hand or hers. For your spunk, she will expect to pay £50. More coffee?"

I closed my mouth, which had been hanging open for several minutes. I nodded yes to the coffee.

"How do you get your customers?" I asked.

"Various ways." She explained. "I advertise in certain women's magazines, but mainly by recommendation. I run a beauty parlour from the same address, hairdressing, manicure, various other therapies. A woman can even get a 'normal' massage. In relaxed, comfortable surroundings, a woman will often tell a hairdresser, for example, how they are not getting enough. Even a male hairdresser. My people simply guide them to the 'Sensual massage for ladies, by men.' Part of the business. Interested?"

I nodded.

"Get your clothes off," she ordered, "let's see what you've got."

I drained the coffee cup, stood up and stripped. I was painfully erect, my prick became tangled in my pants. Eventually I stood naked in front of her. She had me turn slowly round' peering at me as though I was on sale. Which, I suppose, I was.

"Good." She said. "Now for the practical exam. She stood. She pointed to a doorway behind her. "Give me five minutes, then follow me. Put these on."

She handed me a white tee shirt and tight white boxer shorts, then disappeared into the bedroom. My cock was under control when I knocked tentatively on the bedroom door.

"Come in." She invited.

She was on the bed, propped up on the pillows wearing only perfume. She was truly magnificent. She had the body of a glamour model twenty years her junior, her fine, brown nippled tits jutted proudly, self supporting, like delicious fruits. I approached the bed.

I remembered what she'd said. "Would you like to turn over, so that I can do your back?"

She rolled on to her front, revealing an equally splendid back view. I started at her neck and moved down. I don't know how to massage, but I know how to caress. I allowed my fingers to stroke the sides of her squashed out breasts, she squirmed ever so slightly. I moved on down to her glorious arse and feasted my eyes and my hands on her fine buttocks. Her legs parted slightly and I dipped my fingers into the crevice, just brushing her arsehole and the rearmost part of her shaved outer lips.

I put my mouth close to her ear and whispered, "Turn over."

She rolled onto her back, her nipples were now stiff and she seemed slightly flushed. Was I getting to her? Massaging her front was no hardship, except for my tortured prick, trapped in the shorts. I revelled in the feel of her firm tits, teasing the stiff nipples gently. The down, down. Over her smooth, flat belly past her groin and onto her thighs, ankles and even her toes, before retracing the path to paradise. She spread her legs and raised them, displaying swollen, wet sex lips. With the fingers of my left hand I pressed the gaping lips closed and rubbed them together. I supported my weight on my right elbow and leaned down to take one hard nipple between my lips. Then I spread her lower lips, easily found her prominent clitoris, and quickly strummed it until she came.

When she came down from her crisis, I asked gently; "Will there be anything else madam?"

"Fuck me you bastard." Was the curt reply. "Lie on the bed, let me ride you."

She skilfully rolled a condom, (Where she had it hidden, I will never know.) onto my boner and without letting go of it, mounted me and began to fuck me! I knew that I would not last long under the onslaught and tried to think of England on a drizzly day. I think that she realised my plight. She pulled off me, shuffled up the bed and lowered her juicy cunt onto my mouth. My prick still acted like a flagpole, but now with a little white rubber flag, waving surrender. I reached up for those glorious tits and massaged them while my tongue massaged the inside of her cunt. She came again, bearing down hard on me and squealing out her release.

She shuffled down again, avoiding re-penetration on my spike, but pressing her wet, gaping hole hard against my balls, almost engulfing them. She pulled off the ridiculous rubber and began gave me a vigorous, two handed wank. It was a compelling sight, it looked as though she had a prick sprouting from the base of her belly and she was wanking herself. She soon had me spurting, splashing onto my face and the bed head beyond.

"When can you start? She asked.

She disappeared into the bathroom and returned wearing a white bath robe while I cleaned myself up with tissues. She told me what the hours would be and that I would get £10 of the basic fee. Any extras were all mine. I would buy my own condoms, massage oil and anything else in the way of 'tools'. She also ran an escort service, which could be highly lucrative, but she would only let me do that during my week off. She would take a 25% finders fee.

"Now fuck off, I have others to interview. And no, I did not pick them up in bars. I ran an ad' in a lad's mag, 'Why wank when you can get paid for fucking?' I had plenty of takers."

I went to the hotel bar and bought myself a beer. I needed it. I went to sit down but then had a better idea, I walked into the lobby and sat down there, watching to see if the next interviewee would show up. After about ten minutes, the receptionist came over to a skinny young man, no more than twenty and said;

"Mrs Robinson will see you now, room 507, top floor."

I could not help a grin at the homage to "The Graduate". I watched him go and decided to stay to see how long she kept him. Would he get through the interview?

About half an hour later he came down looking hot and bothered. If he'd got that far, he had just had the best fuck of his life so far! I drained the remains of my second drink and left.

Several days later I rang the bell and was admitted to "Pampers, whole body beauty care". The place was actually closed, I was there to be shown around by Karen herself. Reception was a small, but luxuriously appointed shop with a desk and a two seat sofa. Lots of expensive beauty products were on display and for sale. There were several doors leading from reception, which I learned led to a hair salon, a tanning room, a nail parlour, a sauna/steam room and a genuine massage room. Plus of course, the cock for rent department.

Karen showed me into the waiting room. Again, well furnished and decorated. The morning shift was nine until three and the afternoon shift was two until seven. The rota was three weeks of seven mornings, alternating with seven afternoons then seven days off. Karen would not tolerate lateness, I was to use the rear entrance in future. This particular department had it's own receptionist, all the others shared the front reception.

I started my life in the sex industry the following Saturday. It was 1 o'clock. An hour before my five hour shift began. Shifts overlapped by an hour, to allow a leisurely changeover. Karen was waiting. I was introduced to Shelly, the receptionist. Karen then rang a bell and my new colleague entered the room. Karen introduced us. He was Hugo. Not his real name of course, his real name was unpronounceable anyway. He was African. Very very black. Tall, lean, shaven head. His skin shone. He looked like a trapped animal, not scared, but defiant. Challenging. I thought that his hard looks made him almost ugly, but Karen had told me that he was very popular with her ladies. I later found out that he had a prick like a battering ram. Which probably helped.

I changed into my working clothes. On the right breast of the tee shirt was a small embroidered "K". When I got back to the waiting room, Hugo was showing a client to his 'workshop'. Karen explained that the two morning shift 'companions' were both engaged and would not be finished until after two o'clock, hence the overlapping shifts. Eventually the morning shift appeared, one by one, fully dressed, and were introduced. They were Dick and, believe it or not, John Thomas. Their clients had left by another door. It was very slick, arranged so that the clients would never have to meet. In addition to the three I had met, there were two more studs, Peter and Willy, they worked fewer and less regular hours, covering holidays etc., so that there were always two men on duty.

Hugo was back in the waiting room before the next client arrived. She chose me.

I showed her to 'my' room and left her for ten minutes, as instructed. My heart was beating like a drum when I went back to service her. She was a rather plain woman in her thirties. Mousy hair, tits too small and bum too big. Standard English pear-shape. No make-up. She was lying naked, pink from the shower, on the massage table. Which was much wider than a normal massage table. It was height adjustable, so that I did not have to bend my back to rub someone lying on it. It was leather covered, but over that was a fitted white sheet, which I had to change after each session.

"Would you like to turn over? Oil, talc, or just hands?" I asked.

She chose oil. I poured a liberal amount into one hand and gently applied it to her upper back. I was quite generous with the oil, I love to see oily female flesh. She decided when to turn over and I started on her front. Her small nipples were now like pebbles and her eyes had a sort of smoky look. She was ready for it.

I repeated what I had done with Karen, with the nipple sucking. I found that I could slip my right arm under her neck and reach round to gently pinch the right teat while I suckled the left. She parted her legs as far as she could while I polished the oily bud of her clit until she came. Noisily.

"Will there be anything else madam?" I asked, wiping my hands on a paper towel.

"No. Not today. Thank you, that was just right."

No profit from this one then, I thought. As I had been instructed, I stayed with her while she showered away the oil and dressed. Then I showed her to the exit door. She gave me a light kiss on the lips.

"Bye," she said, see you soon. And my first ever punter was gone

My second customer did the same. £20 in two hours? Perhaps I should have stuck to stacking shelves? It paid more.

My third, and another 'Jane Smith', was different. A good looking older woman who knew exactly what she wanted. After her massage, just with hands, no oil, I had my finger on her bud, preparing it, when she husked, "Lick it. Suck me off." I did so with pleasure, bringing her to a slowly accelerating tidal wave of orgasm. She paid her 'extras' fee without being asked and even added a £10 tip.

"Nice one." She said. What shift are you on next month?"

I suggested that she 'phoned first if she wanted me again. I had been warned that the hours could be irregular.

Number four was a plump, no, fat young woman with tits you could get lost in. There was a lot to massage. She allowed me to bring her off with my fingers, wanting two hands on her cunt, one poking and one rubbing. She squirted when she came. The first time that I had experienced female ejaculation. After the massage, she had me fuck her from behind, standing. She kept her legs tight shut after I had entered her. I had to stand feet apart to achieve depth of penetration. She was incredibly tight in this position, causing maximum friction on the tool of my new trade.


Vice Versa



All this contact with naked female flesh was taking it's toll on my equipment. I was erect all the time when I was massaging and semi-stiff the rest of the time. My balls ached like they had been kicked. I just had to come. This plump cunt was milking me. No-one would know, I could whip the condom off and hide it afterwards. But Karen would be furious. Supposing there was someone waiting who wanted a come-shot show?

My client solved my problem, without warning she came again herself, jerking as though she was having a fit, and squirting me from her clenching hole. Saved!

In fact, I had no more punters that day, and alone in bed the night, had to relieve the pressure with my own hand. In the slightly guilty afterglow which often follows masturbation, I could not resist a wry smile. I was being paid to fuck women, but reduced to having to wank myself off.

The following Thursday, when I finished with my last client, it was late. The receptionist, Shelly, was gone. Karen was sitting on the waiting room sofa.

"Hi Hon, how's it going?" She queried.

I sat down beside her. "Okay I suppose." I replied.

"But?"

"But I'm not making much money."

It was true. Each time he left, Hugo folded himself into a new-ish Porsche, as black and shiny as he was, while I took a bus home.

"Then you're doing something wrong, tell me how you go about things. In detail."

I ran through my standard procedure. When I got to the bit where the client was on the couch, Karen stopped me.

"At what point do you strip?"

"When and if she asks for extras." I replied.

She shook her head and said. "Ever heard of advertising?"

She continued; "Take the shirt off as soon as you join her in the room, then, when she turns onto her face, lose the shorts. When she turns back again, she can see what's on offer. They come here for cock. The can wank themselves if that's all they want. Put yourself in her position. She is naked, just had her back rubbed by a good looking man and turns over to see him also naked, hard and available. Could you resist?"

I had been a bit naïve, I could see how it would work.

"Do it." Said Karen. "You'll double you earnings."

I nodded. "There is something else." I mumbled.

"Yes?"

"The 'no come rule.' At the end of a shift, my gonads feel like cannonballs."

This also was true. In five days work I had only come once. A woman wanted me to come in her mouth. Apart from that it was do-it-yourself.

"That might also change." Replied Karen. "But otherwise you will have to resort to good old Onanism. Do you ache now?"

"Oh yes." Said I.

"Come here," she said, "I'll see what I can do."

I stripped off the 'uniform, and stood before her, naked and fully erect. She cradled my balls with her left hand and took my shaft in her right, stroking gently. Then she leaned forward, licked the tear from my tip, opened her mouth wide and engulfed my length in one smooth movement, her bright red lips nuzzling my pubic bone.

She was very expert and had me boiling over into her throat in no time. She swallowed the lot, licked her lips and looked up at me.

"A good source of protein, so I'm told." She smiled.

I dressed and she showed me out.

"And by the way," she added as a parting shot, "shave your pubes, you'll look bigger."

That night, I did as I was told and removed my chest hair too, using hair removal cream. When she turned onto her back, my first client the next day was treated to a naked body and a stiff, ready prick. It worked. She grabbed it and fed it into her mouth, then had me fuck her all ways.

Four of my five punters that day had 'extras' It did not work with everyone, some were satisfied with a good clit-rub, but my income rocketed. That same day, I also found a pleasant solution to relieving ball pressure.

Again I had a late finish. Shelly was waiting to lock up. I was in severe need, I had to come and now.

"Give me five minutes," I begged, "Five finger exercise required."

Shelly grinned. "Usual problem," she said, "I'll do it if you'd like."

She was offering to relieve me of my pent-up spunk!

I hastily accepted and quickly removed my kit. Shelly stood alongside me, to my right. She put her left arm around my waist, wrapped her cool fingers around my shaft and gave me an expert wank, which soon had me spurting six feet across the room. She cleaned it up with tissues while I dressed.

"Can I buy you a drink?" I asked.

"No thanks." She replied. "I'm a married woman, I don't go out with other men."

"But you've just..."

"I love my husband," She explained, "but I love spunk as well. I love to see a man come. So powerful. I like it on me as well, but my husband likes to come inside me. Only when I have my period do I get to watch him spurt, so I have to indulge my fetish elsewhere. I don't see it as infidelity. I've already done Hugo, you shot further than he did" And she winked.

I was learning a lot about women!



Vice Versa



1

A friend was getting married and we had the bachelor's party at our house. I decided, with my wife, Karen, gone for the evening that hiring a stripper was a must. It was a good idea and she put on a sexy show for over an hour. Karen returned home, just as the stripper was leaving. She asked who that woman was in her house. We told her, and that the fee was two hundred dollars. Instead of being upset, my wife said she should have become a stripper. By then, the boys were fairly drunk and feeling randy. Karen was tipsy, too, for she had a few glasses of wine with her girlfriends. She partied more with us. 

She asked what the stripper did for that much money. I told her it was the usual, taking off her clothes. Karen mocked us by opening the top buttons on her blouse and rocking her hips. All of the fellows immediately clapped and shouted, "Go, Go-Take it off," as they did with the dancer we hired. I did not say anything to stop her, as my wife stripped to her white-lace bra and panties with them cheering her on. She shook her boobs and danced in her high heels. Karen ran her hands up her thigh-high nylons and slid them seductively over her panties. She reached behind her back to unsnap her bra, but then she chickened out, and that was the end of her burlesque show. Everyone wanted more. 

She asked what else the stripper did for them. We told her a lap dance for the groom. Still half-naked, she then sat on the groom's lap and rubbed her tush on his crotch. He always had the hots for my wife and appreciated her playfulness. He gave her a ten-dollar bill. Others reached into their pockets, but I said that was all for her teasing performance. They called me a party pooper. 

All of the horny guests were flirting with Karen, and she loved the attention. She put on a shirt but left it open and just her panties covered her ass. They had her surrounded and would not keep their hands off my wife. They were poking her breasts and patting her on the butt. Karen was getting excited with the groping guys feeling her out. I could see a wet spot on her panties. One of them took hold of her hand and placed it on the bulge in his pants. She squeezed his fat lump with a smile. 

A few minutes later, I saw her standing with that same aggressive guy in the hallway. Karen's hand was inside the fly of his slacks. She was feeling his cock in the flesh. They saw me coming and parted. Karen said that she was waiting to use the bathroom as her excuse. I told her that maybe she should go to bed. She snubbed that advice. He went to the living room and muttered something to the others. I easily guessed what he was bragging about to the boys, for he was letting them smell his finger as proof. 

The groom and I were drinking shots of whiskey, toasting to old times. Most of the other invitees were from his workplace, and we were buddies all along. He started talking to me about how he was unsure of the giant leap into married life. It was one of those conversations between two drunken friends. While we were chatting privately, Karen went into the kitchen for another glass of wine. There were at least twelve guys at the party, and I could not keep track of all of them. A few were in the kitchen with my wife. 

When I offered the groom another beer, he shouted that I was coming into the kitchen. Karen bolted out and hastily passed me. She was tight-lipped and wiping off her mouth. Her bra was missing from under her shirt, and something glistened on her breasts. That wet spot on her panties clung to her pussy and created a distinct camel toe. I wondered what they were doing. The partying pals with her were tucking in their shirts and zipping up their pants, when I entered the kitchen.

The groom followed me and wanted to talk more. He was distracting me on purpose. I told him that I suspected something was going on with Karen, and he had better not be in on it. He did not warn them that time. I stopped in the dining room to check out the situation and saw my wife sitting between two men on the couch. They were making out with her. One had his hand inside of her panties, and she was stroking their cocks. I shushed my friend and whispered that we should watch to see what happens. 

She was asked if ready for another session with her mouth, by a man with a huge cock standing in front of her. Karen nodded, before she put her lips on his hard cock. He held her head and pumped it into her mouth, while she jerked on the other stiff dicks beside her. Karen moaned when she swallowed his cum. Another fellow took the position and she sucked him off, as well. 

The groom said this was hot and wanted to join the heated action. I had to agree. Karen never did anything as bad as this before. It was as if we were watching someone other than my wife at the mercy of these men, but it was she, and I could not let this continue. They were forming a line, when I busted them. I acted pissed-off and said the party was over. I told everyone to get the fuck out of my house. 

After they left, I asked Karen how many men she blew and if anyone fucked her. She said three in the kitchen and two in the living room, but she swore that nobody had his cock inside of her pussy. She told me that it started with them kissing and touching her. Their hands were in her panties, while she jerked on their cocks. Then they wanted her to blow them. She told them no, but they pushed her down onto her knees. Their cocks rubbed her face and lips. She begged them not to, but they held her head and forced their cocks into her mouth. It was one after another. She never swallowed so much cum. 

I told her to be honest and asked if she liked blowing them. Karen nodded sheepishly that she did. She admitted that she would have sucked for them, all night. My wife said she was sorry and promised never to do that, again. 

2

The following Sunday, one of the fellows that attended the bachelor's party happened to show up at our house. He had to refresh our memories that his name was Paul. I remembered that he was the man with Karen in the hallway and the instigator of her affair. He also had one of the bigger dicks my wife spent sucking that night. I guessed why Paul was here. I saw, too, that Karen was keen with anticipation from his unexpected arrival. He brought two six-packs of beer and wondered if we would be watching the football game. We welcomed his company as a fellow fan.

Karen freshened her make-up and changed clothes. She put on a tube top, having her nipples clearly seen. A ball cap and cut-off shorts with half of her cheeks showing completed her outfit. Paul did not waste any time and flirted with Karen in the kitchen. He stood behind her, while she made snacks, and massaged her bare shoulders. My wife melted in his hands. I knew that she was already simmering with sexual excitement, for she was reading an erotic novel and had been playing with herself, all morning long.

After bullshitting about how our team might win this one, we took our seats in the living room to watch the game. I was in my lucky chair, while Karen sat next to Paul on the couch. I could see out of the corner of my eye that he placed his hand on her thigh. She reciprocated with hers sliding close to his crotch. Their eyes were on me, while she kneaded his cock, and he rubbed her pussy. They snuck in a kiss or two, as well. She then complained that it was chilly and laid a blanket over their laps.

I could tell by the fidgeting that they had pulled down their pants. My wife stroked his cock underneath the blanket, while we watched the game. I pretended not to notice the tented wet spot or the hard pumping motion going on under the cover. I had to listen without recognition to the wet slurping of his fingers inside of her pussy. Karen was jacking him off and sneakily doing it, hoping I was not aware. 

I wondered how far she would go. I went to the bathroom and took a magazine with me, so she'd think I'd be in there awhile. I made it fast and purposely did not give her the detectable finishing flush that she listened to hear. When I returned, the blanket lay sprawled on the floor, and I saw Karen bent over his lap. She had his huge cock in her mouth. My wife was blowing him. I cleared my throat, and Karen jumped to the other end of the couch. 

"Bob, I know that I promised, but I want to do it again. Paul has a nice big one. Please let me do it for him."

I told her that promises were made to be broken, and she could finish what she started. He saw that I was not mad, and she hoped that I did not mind. I gave them permission to have their fun, as long as there was no fucking between them. They agreed as they took off their clothes. 

Paul had a very big cock, at least eight inches long, with a thick shaft that curved slightly upward. His hard cock throbbed and proudly bobbed on its own. A droplet of glistening pre-cum formed on the tip of the crown, before a strand of his sweet honey stretched and snapped. I noticed that he shaved his balls, which were as large as duck eggs with his left one hanging heavier than the right. Karen caressed them and moaned. They felt full of desirous cum, which soon would ooze down her throat. 

Our team was losing, so I put on a porn movie to have an excuse for me to jack-off, but I was watching them the whole time. Paul sat on the couch, and Karen knelt between his legs. My wife made love to his cock. She rubbed it on her face and licked his huge balls. 

"I am glad that you came back today, Paul. I love your big cock," Karen told him while stroking it with both of her hands. She milked his savory clear pre-cum and buttered it on her lips. 

"I figured you would want another taste of my cock. You like being naughty with a cock in your mouth," he said. "I knew from watching you at the party. At first, you acted as if you were against the idea, pretending it was dirty and bad, but you loved sucking our dicks. You had an orgasm as soon as you put your lips on a cock."

"Oh, god, I had dreams of doing that," Karen conceded. "So many cocks came in my mouth."

Paul then looked at me. "You liked watching her blow us, didn't you, Bob? It turns you on seeing your wife sucking on another man's cock."

"She gives the best blowjob. How could I keep her to just myself?" I went along, but it was true what he had said. 

"You are so right. Your wife is a good little cocksucker, and she should spread her expertise around. Is that not what you want, Karen, to put your lips on a hard cock and make it feel so good that it comes in your mouth?" he asked. 

My cock throbbed in my hand when I saw her nod. My wife was being submissive to him. She wanted coaxed to perform. The brazen bull continued. 

"Now do it for me, Karen. Blow me. Suck my dick and make me come," Paul told her. 

Without hesitation, my wife put her lips over his cock and made half of it disappear. Paul pumped Karen's head on his cock. The thickly-veined shaft sunk deep to the back of her throat. Her hand was between her legs, and we could hear her fingers sloshing inside of her wet pussy. My wife had an orgasm while blowing Paul. She came on her fingers with this bull's big dick in her mouth. 

"Just imagine this fat cock in your pussy, fucking you hard, and making you come, all night long. Would you like that, baby? How about it, Bob?" he tempted us. 

Karen looked at me, and I at her, but neither of us gave a response. 

"Suck it, Karen. That's it. Pull on my balls, too. Oh, honey, you are the best. You could play with my cock and blow me like this, everyday," he said. She hummed harmoniously in agreement and sucked harder on his dick. 

"Oh, you fucking cum slut, you are making me come. Keep sucking me," he said and held her head on his cock. His legs were shaking as he came inside of her mouth. Karen swallowed his cum. She licked his shaft clean and thanked him very much. 

Paul saw me jerking hard on my dick, with a glaze of pre-cum smeared on my lips. "You two are perfect for each other. She likes to blow and you like watching her do it. We could have a real good time," he said. 

He then wanted to finger-fuck Karen's juicy pussy. She said please and don't you dare stop. Paul commented that her clit protruded nicely. It was abnormally large, and his massage made it stick out more. He also said that her pussy was tight with just one of his fingers inside. Two of them together were thicker than my cock. Three were all she could take. Within a minute, she was bucking and begging him to make her come. She held onto his arm and humped on his hand for all she was worth. The slurping suction drove me insane, as the tempo increased. Karen's whole body was shaking from the tremor of her approaching orgasm. She screamed that she was coming. Her pussy juices coated his hand. 

Paul nodded to me. "Ready for another beer?" he asked. I followed him into the kitchen. His cock bounced between his legs. 

"Your wife has a hot pussy, Bob." 

"She shakes and comes juicy like that all of the time. My wife can come a lot," I told him. 

"Oh, man, I love a girl that can have multiple orgasms. I think she needs more than you could possibly give her. Don't you agree? You know she loves to fuck and needs a big cock that can satisfy her."

"Yeah, but..." I stammered.

"But what? Would you not want to watch her coming on a big cock?" He squeezed his cock making the head shine and swell in his hand. Paul looked at mine and pitifully shook his head. "Tell me, do you jack-off a lot, Bob?" 

"Yes, sir," I answered with respect to his superior size. "I jack-off almost everyday." 

"I bet you do. And do you fantasize about your wife having sex with other men?"

"Paul, you are one advantageous motherfucker with your big dick," I said. "I know that you came here to get a blowjob from my wife because of what happened the other night. You think she is a slut. The party was a fluke. She never did anything like that before."

"Can you blame me? Your wife is hot," he said. "Karen liked sucking our dicks. She even said that she wanted to do it again. Hey, listen, I could set it up for her to blow some other guys." 

"No more, it is over," I said but did not want it to end. I wanted to watch my horny wife have sex with them. "How many men are we talking about here, Paul?" I asked with a slight interest and my dick twitching bad.

"Two or three to start with, and they have very big cocks. You will not be disappointed, neither will your wife. You do know that we will want to fuck her, Bob. I am not joshing you about that," he laid it on the line. I could fathom it would lead to that. 

"It is her Birthday coming up, hmmm," I pondered. 

"Think about it, Bob. Picture your wife on her knees in a circle of men with her mouth on our cocks. We tempt her to do more, and she wants to. So bad, she wants to take all of us on. Then she asks you, with a pretty please, and you let her fuck. You will see Karen's pussy creaming on our big cocks, and her screaming for more. I guarantee that." 

We went back to the living room. Karen was watching a gangbang and rubbing her clit. Paul sat next to her and put her hand on his cock. She glanced only a second toward me, before she started stroking it. He asked Karen if gangbangs turned her on. She nodded. He then wanted to know if she would consider doing such a thing with several men. She said maybe, if he were one of them and could tell her what to do. Paul assured her of that. Karen kissed the head of his cock. 

My wife wanted to blow Paul, again. She asked him and not me to let her suck his cock. That time he made her kneel in the middle of the living room, while he stood over her and fucked his cock into her mouth. He called her vulgar names, which would have garnered a slap on the face for me, but coming from him the distasteful terms excited her more. Paul told her to jerk his cock and beg him to come on her face. No way, I thought, but she had both of her hands on his big dick and pleaded for his sweet release. Seven spurts of streaming cum plastered her puss and dripped onto her breasts. She loved it. 

Paul wanted to be in charge, and I was letting him take control. He broke the barrier of restraint and released her guarded sexual urges. My wife played with her own pussy for him. He talked dirty to her while she fucked herself with a variety of sex toys, and she came on his command. Time after time, her pussy juiced profusely to his delight. 

"Make it come, Karen. That's it. Let it go. Oh, mercy me, that was a good one. Yes, baby, keep making that hot pussy cream for me," he said.

"I love doing this with you watching me. It feels so fucking good. Oh, god, I am going to come again. Yes!" Karen cried out. Her body was shaking and her pussy was oozing cum. 

"Oh, honey, you need fucked so much," he said. "I bet you could come, all night. Look at how hard you made me again. Come closer and kiss daddy's dick. That's it. Lick it all the way down to my balls. Now put your lips on the head and suck on it, while your daddy jacks off."

"Yes, daddy, make it spurt for me," Karen embraced the incestuous role. 

They played along as father and daughter, which excited my wife even more. I always wondered about the relationship with her stepfather, who was the forceful type like Paul. Her mother hooked up with him when Karen turned eighteen. My wife told me that they were into swinging with other couples, and he arranged for her mom to have sexual encounters with other men as well as women. Karen also talked about the extraordinary size of her stepfather's cock. How could she know? He may have started her obsession to pleasure a cock with her mouth. If so, he trained her well. They moved to Nevada last year, but up until then, Karen and her stepfather spent time together at least once a week.

My loving spouse sucked Paul's cock four times, while I watched until well after midnight. I had been jerking on my dick and edging the entire time. My balls were aching to come. I finally let loose and shot a load three feet in the air, while Paul pumped his cum down Karen's throat.

"Think about what I said, Bob. You got my number," he said as he was leaving. He bumped my fist and kissed my wife.

"What did he say?" she asked right away.

"He wants to fuck you. He said that you need a big cock," I told her.

"Oh, honey, I want that so bad. My pussy needs his cock. No offense, but it is either skippy or jiffy with you and your peanut prick."

"Thanks for the reassurance, Karen. I know that you want a big cock, but if you do it once with him, it will go on and on."

"Bob, please, I want to feel a big cock in my pussy, and Paul wants me to do this for him. You did let me blow him. Why not let me...Oh, forget it. I never get to do anything I want," she bitched.

"Whatever Paul wants, Paul gets. Is that right, Karen? I saw how you were with him. You want to be his slut."

"Okay, Bob, let's just drop the whole thing," she said without denying it.

3

The next day at work, I kept thinking about Karen having sex with Paul and his friends. I could not get the thought of her participating in a gangbang out of my mind. My wife would do it, for sure. She loved being the center of attention for one thing; but truly, Karen never got enough from me, even after I gave her my best. I would love to watch her fuck until completely satisfied, and Paul promised results. 

For dinner, my wife served me cold shoulder with a side of dirty looks. Karen was very quiet, pushing the food around on her plate. I said there was a football game on tonight and maybe we could invite Paul. She perked up at that. I saw in her eyes that it was more than just all right. I called Paul and asked him to come over. I said that Karen missed him, already. I told him that my wife felt the urge to indulge and needed his big dick. Karen listened and blushed. I saw her hand slip into her panties. 




Vice Versa



"What is that, Paul? I do not know. I will ask. He wants to know if we would like to join him for a drink at his local pub. He has some friends that he wants you to meet." 

"Oh, god, I am going to do it, again. I will be sucking cock, all night," she said. "How many?" I did not know but temptingly showed her with my hands spread apart that they had big cocks. "I should not be doing this. I am liking it too much," she debated, with her hand wiggling inside of her panties. "Tell him yes." 

Karen did not wear panties underneath a short skirt, and her nipples protruded in a satin blouse. I rubbed her pussy on the way and made her hornier for Paul. I wanted Karen to be ripe and ready for what was to come, and come. 

I told her that she could do whatever she wanted tonight. I was turning her matrimonial reins over to Paul and just going to watch. Karen said she might be very naughty and do things that maybe I should not see. I said that she could act like a whore for him. I understood that she must do whatever he asks. I would have no objections. There would be no regrets, and we could forget it ever happened, if it did not work out. She agreed and gave me a kiss.

"Are you feeling horny tonight, honey? I know it is that time of the month when you are climbing up the walls to have sex. Are you ready for this?" I asked. 

"Oh, god, I am so hot. Do I look over anxious? Maybe we should turn around and go back home. No, we cannot, because Paul is expecting me. I am horny. I hope you will not be angry, for I am liable to do anything this night," she rambled.

"Remember that I said to be as naughty as you want tonight. That is if you wanted to blow other men for Paul. You are the best at sucking cock. Maybe, after you quench your thirst, we could ask Paul to come back to our home and spend the night. I know that he wants to fuck you with his big cock."

"Oh, Bob, yes baby, I want that so much. His cock is going to be in my pussy, all night." 

Paul met us outside of the saloon, and jumped into the back seat of our car. He asked for a few minutes to be alone with my wife. She hurried to get next to him. Karen opened his slacks and pulled out his big dick. She pumped on it and kneaded his balls. She told Paul that she masturbated three times today while thinking about him and his cock. I wanted to watch her blow Paul, but he told me to go inside and that the drinks were on him. I was not yet in the door, as my wife's head went down on his cock.  

It was a small place, no waitress, with all men. They were being boisterous and loud, until Karen walked in and got everyone's attention. There were cat calls with comments about her nice tits and ass. They thought she was with Paul, because she sat next to him. No one knew that I was her husband, and I liked it better that way. We sat in a booth at the back, and it was a good spot to do what Paul planned.

His silver tongue began with an appetizer. "They are all looking at you, Karen. They think you are sexy and hot," Paul said. "How about teasing them a little? Maybe put on a show. You can start by opening your blouse."

"Yes, Paul, tell me what to do," she said. 

She opened her blouse and exposed her breasts in a bar full of men. Karen lifted them and licked her nipples. Seeing there was no intervention by the proprietor, Paul told Karen to sit on the table and open her legs. Everyone gasped. Her pussy was very wet. He wanted her to play with herself in front of everyone. Karen was an exhibitionist at heart, and she shivered in an orgasm at first touch on her pink-shining clit. Her pussy came again with her fingers inside and the crowd rooting her on. She sat in a puddle of cum that dripped off the table. Paul had to tell her to stop.

"You are a bad girl, Karen. You made all of their cocks get hard. Now you will have to blow them. It is time for another feeding, my dear," he said. Karen was shaking with excitement. 

Paul waved for the first two lucky recipients to come to our booth. He nodded for me to take a hike, while he introduced Karen to them. They sat at her sides, and after a few minutes of chatting, made out with my wife. Their cocks were fairly large, and Karen took hold of both of them, as soon as they whipped them out. 

I stood at the bar and watched Paul orchestrate the event. Karen jerked on their cocks, before she chose which one to blow first. She bent to her left and put her lips on a stranger's cock. Everybody could see her head bobbing on his dick. It was only three minutes, before she bent to the right. My wife blew both men and swallowed their cum. Two others came to sit, but the bartender suggested they take their act into the back room where there was a couch. I could not see what was happening, but I knew my wife was in there blowing them. 

Paul kept calling for new men. Two or three at a time were getting their cocks jerked and sucked by my wife. I saw numbers nine and ten go in, before Paul came out for a drink. I was not being able to watch and told Paul that I wanted to leave. He agreed and said it was enough for tonight, as if there will be more times that she will be blowing other men for him. He went to tell her but came back to say that Karen was really getting into this. She was not done yet with blowing these last two men, and she hoped that I would not mind if she took them home. 

"Let's go back to your house and have some more fun," he said. "Wait until you see the size of their cocks. Our Karen is doing her best stuff for them. She wants to blow them some more. This way, Bob, you could watch and jack off. I know you are dying to do that." 

He was right. My dick had been hard all day. We left the bar, but Karen rode with Paul and the two men. I saw their heads, until Karen's went below the seat. I jerked on my dick, while in the car ahead of me, my wife was blowing other men. 

When we got to our house, I asked Karen if she was all right. She said yes, as if it was no biggie that she blew close to a dozen men during the course of the day. I asked if she fucked for any of them. 

"Not yet, Bob, but I promised Paul that I would do it for him and his friends."

"Are you serious? Do you want to fuck all three of them? You will not be able to walk for a week," I said.

"Please do not be mad at me, but my pussy needs their big dicks. You said that I could do whatever I want tonight. I want to do it with them. I want Paul and them to fuck me, all night long."

I reminded her that she was not on the pill. She just nodded with no solution, which meant it was come what may. I shook my head but still had myself psyched up to watch her fuck these men.

She changed her clothes to a sexy, see-through negligee with nothing on underneath. She looked as hot as could be. Paul told Karen to sit between his friends on the couch. He told me to sit in the corner, and if he heard anything from over there, it had better be me fucking the plant.

The two men were already shirtless and making out with Karen. They were kissing and fondling her breasts. She was feeling their muscles and running her hands over their chiseled pecs. They played with her tits and pussy, while she stroked their cocks. One man's cock had to be ten inches long, and the other dude had a very thick dick that she could not get her hand around. I had mine out and jerked on it slow. 

"Are you excited now, Karen?" Paul asked.

"Yes, I am very excited," she said. 

"Let's go into the bedroom, shall we?" Paul suggested, but he put his hand on my chest and stopped me dead in my tracks. "Sorry, not you, Bob, she does not want you to watch. Isn't that what you said, Karen? That you did not want your husband to see you getting dirty with us." 

She nodded, without a glance to me, and pulled Paul by the hand into the bedroom. The others followed and closed the door. 

"We are going to fuck you good. You waited a long time for this, haven't you, Karen? Everyday, you had to play with yourself to get off. Your husband cannot satisfy your needs, so you have to fuck for other men. You want to be another man's dirty, little whore," Paul said. 

"Oh, please, fuck me now. I want to feel your big cocks inside of my pussy, so bad."

I listened at the door and jerked on my dick. I wanted to watch. Paul went first. Karen had an orgasm upon penetration of his cock. Paul said she was creaming already, on just the head of his dick. She was begging him to push it all of the way in. She screamed when he thrust the full length of his hard cock inside. Two more times she came, before Paul said that he was going to shoot into my wife's hot pussy. Paul then obliged his friends and told them to have-at-her, the best they could. He said to fuck her good and hard.

"Let's see how many times we could make her come," Paul said. 

He then surprised me and opened the bedroom door. He saw me standing there with my dripping dick in my hand, and laughed. He told me to get them some beer out of the fridge. I got a glimpse into the bedroom and saw Karen on her knees sucking on one cock while the other fellow was fucking her from behind. It was her favorite position, and I could hear her screams from the kitchen. She came even more with them switching places at Paul's request. I never saw her come this much and did not doubt that calling her a nymphomaniac was fair. She was insatiable, tonight. 

When I brought the beer, I saw Karen on her back with the man who had the fat cock on top of her. She had her legs wrapped around him and humped hard to his every powerful stroke. Her pussy stretched to extreme. I watched her come and saw her pussy coat his big cock with its frothy cream. He shot a fertile load of his cum into my wife. Karen's other lover fed her his long cock. His cum seeped out of her lips.

Paul said thanks for the brews and that they would be awhile, maybe all night. He said to find out the score of the game for he had placed a bet. His team was winning, and it was his turn again to fuck my wife. 

I was getting nervous. She went over-the-top. Karen was not screaming anymore and just moaning instead. They fucked my wife for over three hours until their cocks went ineffectively limp. They had enough and left. I saw her entire body covered with spatters of shining cum, before she wobbled into the shower. Her pussy lips were swollen and red. Karen did not want to talk about it that night. They soaked the mattress, so I slept on the couch. The next morning, I told her that I did not like what happened and asked that be a one-time thing. She said okay.

The very next evening, Paul was back. He was by himself that time. I told her to inform him that it was over. Karen went out to tell him before he came in. I saw her standing next to his car talking to him. Paul opened his pants and showed my wife his cock. He was wagging it and enticing her to have it, again. She circled the car and got in. Karen wrapped her hands around the thick shaft, and a minute later, her head was bobbing on his big dick. Paul saw me looking out of the window, and the rotten bastard gave me the finger with a wide-mocking grin.

He drove away with my wife still sucking on his cock. I thought they were going around the block and coming back as soon as he filled her mouth with his cum. Not that I was watching the clock, but it was four hours, fourteen minutes, and me hoping to get seconds, before she returned. My wife was in a daze. Karen could barely walk, and her kneecaps were bright red. She carried her bra and panties in her hand. I saw her hair and face crusted with remnants of dried cum. She went directly into the bathroom and soaked in the tub. 

I asked how many men Paul made her service tonight. Karen said there were eight. Paul took her to the same bar, but she had only one drink. He told her to sit in a booth and jerk off a couple of his friends. She then was in the backroom and blowing them. Paul kept sending in men. It was just blowjobs at the bar, but Paul and a man with a very big cock took turns fucking her in the back seat of his car. Once that started, she could not stop. 

My wife spent the whole time sucking and fucking that night. I told her this had to cease, and I would leave her if she got pregnant by them. She cried and promised that was the end.

The next morning, I called Paul and told him to stay away from my wife. He said that whatever I say was all right with him, but he doubted if Karen could stop wanting his cock and those of his friends. I did not want him encouraging her, and he said okay. 

Three weeks went by, and my wife seemed to be over Paul and his well-hung associates. She somehow lost her passion for them. I was glad when she got her period, but I sort of missed the excitement of her having an affair. In the meantime, Karen mentioned that her mother and stepfather are flying in from Nevada, and she asked if they could stay with us for the next two weeks. I said okay.



Vice Versa Ch. 02



Chapter 2. Redoubtable Rebecca.

On the Monday of my second week, Shelly called me over and told me that 'Mrs Goldberg" was coming later, she would be my last client of that morning.

She grinned. "You won't have to do it yourself today."

She went on to tell me about 'Mrs Rebecca Goldberg'. She was about fifty, hard to say because she had had various cosmetic surgery. She could afford it. Her husband had a chain of jewellers across the North of England. Gloria's job was to spend his money. One of the things she spent it on was getting fucked.

"If she likes you," Shelly concluded, "you can start a pension fund. But she is a real ball breaker, so don't upset her."

I was not introduced to Mrs Goldberg in the waiting room. I was told to go straight up to the room. I was nervous. I tapped on the door and was told to enter. She was not on the massage couch, she was standing in front of a mirror, nude, and weighing her large tits in her hands. She turned and pointed them at me.

"Brand new tits." She announced" What do you think?"

"Worth every penny. " I replied.

I walked over and took the nipples of the proffered breasts between my fingers, turning them like knobs on an old fashioned radio.

"Good morning tits," I said, I'm Rod, happy to make your acquaintance."

She roared with laughter. "We're going to get on." She announced.

Good start.

"She nodded at my groin, "Get those off," she said, let's see what you've got."

She seemed to approve. She climbed onto the couch. Her skin was a light mahogany colour, from too much sun. Expensive Caribbean sun probably. Close-up, I could see the surgery scars, but from a few feet she could have passed for thirty-something.

"Oil." She commanded.

I gave her the standard massage to orgasm and leaned back, wiping my hands on a towel.

"Very good." She said. Now you can fuck me, all ways, let's see if your good at that too."

We went through the book before she cried enough. She then turned to kneel on the couch with her arse in the air.

"Suck me off," She ordered. "this way."

It was an awkward position for me, licking and sucking her hole was no problem, but I had to move her back on the couch and raise it to maximum height, so that my tongue would reach as far forward as her clit. Unfortunately, this meant that my nose was practically up her arse. Occupational hazard.

She came again, then ordered me to get up behind her and bugger her. The first time I had been asked to fuck a clients arse. I did so with enthusiasm, reaching round for her clit to bring her off a third time. She fell forward onto her belly as she came and I got down from the couch.

She rolled onto her back. "Up here," She indicated for me to sit astride her chest.

Wank onto my face." She ordered.

It was a good ejaculation and I managed to keep it directed to her face and open mouth. She was covered in the stuff.

It was over. She showered again, with me in attendance. Then I dried her and helped her dress. She took out her purse and counted out ten twenties.

"I'll be back" She concluded.

"Will you need my clothes and my motor-cycle?" I asked, cheekily.

She just frowned. Perhaps she'd never seen "The Terminator".

She did come back. In fact she came most weeks when I was working and when I was not, she had one of the other men. On her second visit to me, the treatment was exactly the same, culminating with the spunk facial.

It was the late shift. She had arrived late and it was well after seven when we came down. Mrs Goldberg was shown out, I changed into my street clothes. Shelly was in a hurry to get away and we left together.

"See you tomorrow." She said over her shoulder as she walked briskly to her car.

I looked at my watch, I had missed my bus. I had an hour to wait until the next one.

The dark tinted window of the Mercedes I was standing next to, rolled down. It was Mrs Goldberg.

"Time for a drink?" She enquired.

I nodded. She climbed from the car and we walked to the pub at the far side of the car park. I ordered the drinks.

Mrs Goldberg, "Call me Becky." slipped me a tenner to pay for them. The place was not crowded, we found a corner table. They were starting to prepare food and the smell of it was drifting into the bar. Becky leaned close and said;

"I always feel hungry after a good fucking, will you join me? My treat."

"I would love to," I replied, "but I have to catch a bus home."

"I'll run you home afterwards." She countered.

So we ordered food. The food was quite good, surprisingly good for a town pub in a not very upmarket area. After we had eaten, she seemed in no hurry to leave and we chatted .

"What have they told you about me," she asked, that I am spending my husband's hard earned fortune?" I was not sure how to respond. She continued;

"It's partly true, my husband is a brilliant jeweller. Or was, he's mostly retired now. But a lousy business man. I was twenty when I married him. He was thirty-nine.

It was an arranged marriage. We did not have children, he was sterile. Not impotent, but he fired only blanks. To begin with, I played the housewife, but he always struggled with the accounts. I turned out to be good at it. Gradually, I began to play a management role. It was my natural business skill which built the company to what it is today. So the money is as much mine as his. I still make the decisions, but the company mainly runs itself.

He's now seventy and not interested in sex. So I come to you to come. The 'spunk on my face' thing is my concession to subservience. I daren't show any kind of weakness in the business, sometimes it would be nice to let somebody else make the decisions. Could you handle that? Taking charge I mean. Nothing extreme mind."

I could handle that. She took me home, driving the big Merc fast and skilfully.

The next time I saw her, she simply said; "You're in charge."

I stripped and lay face down on the couch. "Oil." I commanded.

She gave me a good back rub, then I turned over to let her see the equipment. She did my front, concentrating on my prick and balls.

I got down from the couch and pushed her to her knees in front of me.

"Suck it." I ordered.

She leaned forward and slipped her lips all the way down to my scrotum, my tip down her throat. I cupped one bum cheek in my hand and squeezed gently.

She could really suck cock. It took all my willpower to stop myself from coating her back teeth with cream. I tried to think of more mundane things, "Think of England." Had been Karen's advice. So I did. Specifically, Bank of England.

She disengaged her greedy mouth.

"I want it." She said. I shook my head.

"Beg for it." I teased.

"I want your cock, please." She pleaded. "Fuck me now."

"Not until I'm ready. Get on the couch, on your back."

She did as she was bid, lifting her knees and parting them. She really did want it, her hole gleamed with her juice.

"Play with yourself. Wank for me." I ordered.

She obeyed. She had an unusual way of pleasuring herself. She pushed the thumb of her right hand into her cunt and the middle finger up her arsehole, then used the fingers of her left hand to rub her clit.

"All the way." I said. "Bring yourself off."

She rubbed, whimpering slightly, until her spasms took over and she gasped out her climax. I could not resist it, I lowered my mouth to her hole and plunged my tongue in deeply. She started to come again. Or was it the same one? I licked and sucked mercilessly until she could come no more.

Time for my pleasure. I rolled on the rubber and plunged deeply into her sopping hole. I banged away at her until I was close to climax again, then ordered her onto her knees and fucked her doggy style until, yet again I was perilously close to losing it. I ordered her onto her back again and rammed up her arse in a single thrust. I slammed into her as fast as I dared without coming. Her big artificial tits bounced in time to my thrusts, her cunt seemed to wink at me, opening and closing as I powered into her anus.

"Stick your fingers up your twat." I ordered.

She obliged, sticking two fingers of each hand up herself and at the same time, strumming her clit with the thumbs. She came yet again, yelling out loudly. When I could hold back no more, I pulled out, ripped off the condom and climbed on top of her, straddling her chest. I ordered her to wrap her tits around my shaft and pumped out jet after jet of the white stuff onto her throat. It ran down each side, forming a classic pearl necklace. 

She showered and dressed in silence, but as she counted out the money, she said;

"You're alright."

And she left.



Vice Versa Ch. 03



Chapter 3. -- Four birthdays and an outcall.

Mostly, life as a man-whore was fairly routine. I averaged just under four customers per shift. About two thirds wanted 'extras' and 'money shots averaged between two and three per week. Becky visited regularly. She effectively paid my rent and food, the rest went in the bank. I also discovered that some punters wanted a woman 'companion', not a man. And sometimes both. Karen had a parlour for men not far away and a phone call would soon bring a girl in for the client. This was how I met Chelsea. Not her real name of course. Chelsea is an upmarket area of London and was quite popular as a girl's name. Call me old fashioned, but I prefer traditional names. No-one in their right mind would call their child, 'Wapping', for example. So why 'Chelsea'?

Dick and I were having a chat during a very slow afternoon and the subject of names came up. I asked if 'Dick was his real name'. No, it was Karen's idea. We all had 'Karen' names. Dick, Rod and Willy are all euphemisms for penis, so why 'Hugo' I wondered. Dick had the answer.

"It depends on how you pronounce it. Try 'Huge. Oh!' He is too, have you seen it yet?"

I shook my head. "You will," he went on, "when a client asks for a two man massage. The thing should carry a government health warning."

Just as we were finishing what must have been our fourth cup of coffee, an attractive young woman, dressed only in bra, pants, stockings and high heels, walked in from the stairway that led to the treatment rooms.

"Oh hi Shel," said Shelly, the receptionist, "finished?"

"Yes," replied 'Shel'. "I could murder a cup of coffee Shel."

This was Chelsea. She and Shelly, confusingly, called each other 'Shel'. Shelly introduced me. Dick already knew her. Chelsea had been summoned while Dick and I were busy with clients, so we had not seen her arrive. Before Shelly could make the coffee, we were interrupted by the buzzer from the front desk. A client?

Chelsea went out to the kitchen while the client made her choice. She chose Dick and disappeared upstairs with him. Chelsea came back in carrying her coffee, sat down next to me and took a sip of her drink.

"That's good," she said, "takes away the taste of pussy."

I grinned. "Are you really a Lez?" I asked her. She smiled back and replied;

"If the money's right, I'm anything you want me to be. I'm a whore."

She was no more than halfway through her drink when the 'phone rang. Shelly answered, then asked the caller to hold.

"Fancy another customer?" She enquired.

"Me or him?" Countered Chelsea.

"Both." Chelsea gave me a questioning look, I shrugged. 

"When? Chelsea asked.

"Now. She's outside at the back."

Chelsea nodded. "But call the shop, tell them what's happening."

A few minutes later, there was a tap on the back door. I opened it to admit a woman in her forties, well dressed in a smart business suit. She approved of her chosen companions and I led her upstairs while Chelsea finished her coffee.

Threesomes, or more-somes, took place in a large bedroom at the top of the house. Fully equipped with a king-sized bed, sofa and with a separate shower room.

The client was naked on the bed when Chelsea and I joined her. She told us her requirements very clearly, watched intently as I stripped and Chelsea revealed her trim body, then rolled onto her front for the massage. I took no part in this. I sat on the sofa and watched, as instructed. In fact I did not even touch the woman. Chelsea massaged her, then climbed on top of her in the sixty-nine position and lowered her mouth to the wide, wet gash of the clients cunt while she in turn, went to work on Chelsea's.

I had a considerable erection, which I wanked gently as I watched the hot, girl on girl action. The client, we never did get to know her name, climaxed noisily as Chelsea's skilled tongue did it's work. As the client's spasms died down, Chelsea raised her wet face to me and grimaced, winking at me.

Now it was my turn. But not with the client. My pleasant task was to suck and fuck Chelsea while the other woman watched. I was instructed to penetrate Chelsea's lovely cunt in several positions, to bugger her choice little arse, then to suck her off, which I did with great relish. Finally, with the client kneeling at my side watching closely, I had to stand while Chelsea knelt before me and sucked my prick. I finished by spraying Chelsea's pretty face with spunk.

The woman paid us both well and left satisfied. Chelsea and I became good friends after that, frequently going out together as mates. But looking back, we never did fuck each other except when required to professionally.

-------------------------------------------------

Back in my army days, when not on duty, the four of us in 'my' room would find ways of entertaining ourselves. One way was a coming contest. This would take the form of speed wanking, to see who could come quickest. Or a distance contest, who could shoot furthest. On average, I was the champion. The next time that I was asked to perform formation wanking however, was a bit different.

We were told that the morning shift would finish an hour before normal and that there were no bookings for the first hour of the afternoon shift. Karen had called a meeting. The two standby 'companions' were also there.

Karen called for order. "It's Shelly's birthday today. She does not know yet, but she has the afternoon off. She is going to get the full treatment from every department in the building."

"Why didn't you let us know?" Asked Peter. "We could have bought her something."

Karen was silent. There were a few mutterings of agreement. Then I realised Karen's intentions. Unusual for me, I'm normally quite slow on the uptake.

"Including this department?" I ventured.

Karen remained silent.

"We're her present?" I went on.

Karen smiled. "She won't let you fuck her, but you know what she does like." 

We hastily made plans, then trooped into one of the massage rooms, Karen would entice Shelly to the room, we would do the rest.

As Shelly led the way into the room, we were all waiting for her, naked and erect. "Happy birthday Shelly!" We trilled in unison.

"Take your clothes off and lie on the bed." Instructed Karen.

Shelly was doubtful, but did as asked, revealing a trim little body. Karen draped a towel over her loins, we formed a rough circle around her and began wanking. Shelly's pretty face lit up when she realised what the present was -- a spunk shower!

We had agreed to aim our offerings at her face and tits. We did not manage six simultaneous ejaculations, but we were close. Shelly squealed in delight as six pricks disgorged their contents onto her squirming body, spurt after spurt.

"You've ruined my hair." Shelly observed after her initial excitement had subsided. But that was no problem, Karen told her about the rest of her present and we left her to clean herself up.

Karen manned the reception desk and those who were not working prepared to go our separate ways.

"My birthday next month boys." Karen grinned.

I had learned that, in fact, we all enjoyed the pleasure of Karen's luxurious body. At regular intervals, she would take one or two of us out to dinner at a good restaurant, then take us back to her flat, which occupied most of the top floor of her establishment, there to spend the night fucking her every which way. She was a business woman, she probably regarded the sessions as an ongoing assessment. But it was never a hardship.

In my spare time I kept myself in shape with running, walking, cycling and a weekly work-out in a gym. I read a lot, becoming a regular at my local library. On one visit, sweeping up my stack of books I managed to pick up one that I had not chosen. 'Computer programming'. I read it and was fascinated by it. I found that I could easily understand it. I started to seek out books on computers, all aspects. Design, repair, history as well as programming. I ended up enrolling in a course at my local college. Simple pleasures. And inexpensive ones. My savings continued to grow.

-------------------------------------------------

Escort calls, 'outcalls', were few and far between. They were much like parlour sessions, 'in calls', but often meant joining the client for dinner, or the theatre, or both, before heading for bed in a hotel room. They sometimes lasted all night. 

But some calls were memorable.

I was asked to go to one of the better hotels in the centre of town. I was to meet a couple, Katie and Nick. No dinner, just meet them in the bar at nine p.m. Katie had short blonde hair and would be wearing a red dress. Nick would be wearing a suit with an open necked shirt. I spotted them immediately and introduced myself. They were a handsome couple, he was tall and slim, but fit looking. Katie was petite and very attractive. Her hair was not just short, it was cut almost like a man's haircut. Nick offered me a drink, I chose juice. Best to keep a clear head, I had no idea what was planned and I was slightly nervous.

It was not the first time that I had 'done' a couple. In the safety of 'Pampers', I had been paid by a man to fuck his wife while he watched. He did not take part, he sat in a chair naked, gently wanking while I plumbed his wife's depths from several angles. Only after his wife had sucked me off and swallowed my come, did he mount her to quickly shoot his load into the cunt that I had primed for him.

Katie and Nick seemed quite relaxed about our impending threesome, I suspected that they had had some 'Dutch courage' beforehand. Perhaps they had done this before? Eventually, Nick stood up and said;

"Shall we?"

We rode the lift up to their floor, Nicks arm around Katie, gently cupping a tit. They had a large room, with a king sized bed and a sofa. And a splendid view over the city at night. There were three crystal Champagne flutes on a low table in the centre of the room. Nick handed me a slim wad of banknotes. £300. The fee for my services. Then went to the 'fridge and took out a bottle of Bollinger RD. This is expensive stuff. It was either a very special occasion, or they were quite wealthy. Nick removed the cork 'properly'. Not with a pop, but with what the French call, "le soupir amoureux" (the loving whisper). This way, not a drop is wasted. And at £100 a bottle, it's not to be wasted!

Nick poured, we raised our glasses and Nick said;

"Happy birthday darling, here's to multiple orgasms."

"I'll drink to that." Katie responded.

We drank. Nick explained;

"It's Katie's fortieth, we are going to show her that life begins at..."

Katie drained her glass, placed it back on the table, turned her back to Nick and said softly;

"Unzip me darling."

The zip slid easily down, also with a loving whisper. The dress pooled at Katie's feet. With the toe of one high heeled shoe, she flipped it onto the sofa. She stood in stunning, lacy red underwear. Platform bra and French knickers. Lacy red suspenders ran enticingly down the wide legs of the knickers, to the tops of very sheer black stockings. She looked edible.

Nick unclipped the bra and she shrugged out of it and tossed it to join the dress. She had small, bite-size breasts. The pale pink nipples were like juicy ripe raspberries. Nick knelt behind her and slowly pulled the knickers down her thighs. Her trimmed bush was blonde, like her hair.

Nick stood up again and I drank in the beauty of this radiant, fuckable woman. Very slim, almost boyish. No-one spoke for what seemed like minutes, then, still in the soft, low voice, Katie husked;

"Who's going to be first?"

I walked the few steps to the bedside table and took a pack of condoms from my jacket pocket. Nick noticed.

"We won't need those." He said.

"Company rules." I replied. "Health and Safety."

Nick dipped into his inside pocket and pulled out a wad of notes. He began counting twenties onto the bedside table, alongside the prophylactics. I began to weaken when he reached two hundred, weakened further at a two hundred and sixty and picked up the notes and the shiny foil packets at three hundred.

Then it was like a stripping race, Nick and I quickly discarded our clothes. It was a draw. We were both naked at about the same time. Nick was fully erect. I, professional that I was, was still only half-hard. I willed it up to full-mast. Nick's prick was about the same as mine in length, but I had him well beaten for girth.

Katie took a prick in each hand and backed to the bed, sitting down when the backs of her legs touched the edge. She now had one in each hand and both at mouth level. She seemed to have difficulty deciding, but eventually chose mine, new to her, to draw between her coral pink lips.

She worked at it for a short time, then transferred her attention to Nick's straining tool, giving it the same skilful mouthing. She swapped between the two, careful not to make either of us pop before she was ready. She then released her hold on Nick's handle and lay back on the bed, drawing me down with her.

"Fuck me." She breathed.

She spread her thighs at what seemed to be an impossible angle. The suspenders and stocking-tops made a frame for her 'work-of-art' fuck hole. She was wide and wet. Her slit was the same pink as her erect nipples. And her lipsticked upper lips.

I had no difficulty in reaching all the way into her in one smooth push. It had been years since I had felt the heat of a woman's vagina on the bare skin of my penis. I savoured it's warm, wet embrace. I moved slowly, her cunt seemed to suck me, to milk me, I needed all my skill not to blast my pent-up load before she was ready for it. Nick knelt by her face and offered his own weapon to her lips once again, she drew it in and began her skilful sucking. Her legs were dangling over the side of the bed, I was kneeling on the floor, my prick at the perfect height to ream her lovely cunt. I placed my hands behind her knees and drew her legs up and wide, so that I could watch my length slide in and out.

"Change ends?" Nick asked.

We all changed position on the bed, Katie lay on her side with Nick behind. He slipped into her in the 'spoons' position. I positioned myself at her front, but upside down, so that she could suck on my stalk while I watched Nick's slide rhythmically in and out of her gaping cunt. I tentatively reached out my tongue and began to tease her clit. She had her first orgasm this way. But I was too worked up to stop licking. Gradually my tongue strayed onto Nick's shaft as it emerged from the wet hole, I began to lick Katie's juice from it before it thrust in again.

Nick clearly enjoyed the sensation, he began to withdraw further and further until he slipped out altogether. It seemed to be the most natural thing in the world to catch his tip between my lips and suck several inches into my mouth. Suddenly, he came, spurting his thick cream into my mouth. I was shocked but delighted at the sensation. So much so that I began to pump my own offering into Katie's clever mouth.

Nick pulled away, leaving me with my first ever mouthful of spunk. But what should I do with it? 

"Give it to me." Demanded Katie.

She had already swallowed Nick's and wanted more. I swivelled round and pressed my mouth to hers. Her tongue pushed out between my lips and I allowed the stuff to run into her mouth. The transfer was completed. She gulped it down hungrily. Unbelievable! What a sexy woman. Two prickfuls of hot come drunk in quick succession.

Nick's come left a salty, earthy taste in my mouth. I reached for my glass and took a swig of very expensive French mouthwash before I could bring myself to swallow.

Both Nick and I would need a little time to recover. I'm sure that, if there had been a plan, it would have been for one man at a time to climax, so that the birthday girl could have the full prick for her continuing pleasure. Katie made do with her fingers, wanking for our pleasure as much as her own, and calculated no doubt, to speed up our recovery. I take great pleasure in watching a woman masturbate, preferably with her fingers, dildoes make me feel like I could be dispensed with. In no time at all, I was ready for the second round. Dildo not required!

This time around, Nick left me to perform while he watched. I went through all of the sensible positions, me on top, doggy, spoons, from behind standing, reverse cowgirl. When she mounted me in normal 'girl on top', she drew her knees right up and leaned forward so the her tiny tits brushed my chest, her arse up in the air. Nick felt ready to join in. He asked us to stop our thrusting and positioned himself behind Katie, rubbing lubricant onto his knob. He then slowly pushed his thin prick into Katie's arsehole and began to bugger her with long, deep thrusts. I could feel him through the thin dividing membrane. He was, in effect, fucking her and wanking me at the same time. His balls slapping into mine added to the pleasure.

Katie went wild, yelling encouragement as she was filled with two pricks at once. Nick came, grunting as he fired his spunky bullets deep into his partners fundament, triggering another great Tsunami of a come in Katie.

My professionalism now paid off. Having come once, I could now last all night if required to. I stayed hard inside her cunt after Nick pulled out of her arse and began gently thrusting up into her lovely sweating body. 

But Katie was keen for more anal action.

"Put it up my arse." She instructed.

She was well lubricated, mostly with Nick's semen. Nick took hold of my probe and positioned my tip at the pucker of her back entrance. I pushed and entered the tight passage without difficulty. Katie clearly loved being sodomised, she showered me with kisses as I gently pumped into her. Mouth kisses are not usually on the menu during commercial sex, but this was a night for rule-breaking. Her kisses were delightful. I could see why she was such a good cock-sucker. As she pulled back off my shaft, Nick began to smack each buttock in turn. Not hard, but enough to make her forward thrust more powerful. She accelerated until she was pounding at me, then came in a great, noisy rush.

She eased me out of her ravished hole, stood up and kissed Nick passionately on the mouth. She turned to me.

"Fuck Nick's arse."

What the hell. I had already sucked him off. I was breaking new ground in many ways tonight, and with your eyes closed, a man's bum hole feels no different to a woman's.

Nick was keen. He positioned himself on all fours on the bed and offered his slim, athletic rear for penetration. Katie lathed my cock with lubricant, then guided me to the mark. One firm push and I was in up to my balls. Katie knelt behind me and ground her small tits against by back as I speeded up my movements. She put her lips close to my ear and began to chant;

"Fuck my husband's arse, fuck my husband's arse,"

Over and over again. As though the words alone were part of the act.

Eventually she tired of this, lay on her back behind me and pushed her head between my parted legs to lick and suck at my balls. Then she moved forward more and grasped Nick's flailing prick in her mouth. I turned my head to look back at her body. Sure enough, her fingers were hard at work on her vulva. She came yet again, pulled away from us and ordered my to stop. I was grateful to do so, I was more than ready to spill my second helping of seed.

Katie turned to Nick.

"Suck him off ,sweetheart."

Her voice had become deeper as her arousal became more intense. She made me stand with Nick kneeling at my feet, then guided my prick into his mouth. He had obviously done this before, he was good.

Katie was kneeling alongside, watching her husbands lips slide up and down my shaft. She looked up at me.

"Spunk in his mouth." She whispered.




Vice Versa Ch. 03



I was certainly ready for it. I let go a powerful stream of my most valuable asset into his mouth. When I had finished, Katie pushed me away, put her mouth to Nick's and sucked the stuff from him. But whereas she had simply taken his from my mouth, she continued the kiss with her husband, pulling him to the floor without breaking the kiss, which went on for long minutes.

Eventually they separated. Katie looked at me, as though trying to decide what to do next. She smiled as the idea struck her. She addressed Nick;

"Fuck him in the arse." She said, nodding towards me.

"No way." I responded. "I don't do that."

"An arse virgin!" Said Katie. "Even better."

Nick reached for his jacket and pulled out the remainder of his bankroll. He placed it on the bedside cabinet and said;

"This is another £400. Will that do it?"

Chelsea's words echoed in my head;

"If the money's right, I'm anything you want me to be. I'm a whore."

I knelt on the bed, in the position that Nick had been in for his meat injection.

"Not like that." Katie snapped, "Lie on your back."

I did as I was told. Katie instructed me to bring my knees up in a squat position and squirted lube onto my hole, working it in with her finger, poking right inside to prepare me for the bigger implement. She then placed Nick's tip against my resisting sphincter.

"Relax." She suggested. "You'll enjoy it."

I relaxed and Nick pushed forward. I gave a yell as his glans popped into the tight hole. He held still, then began gentle fucking movements, each time gaining a little more depth. At last he was fully into me, his balls slapping gently on my raised buttocks. He began to speed up, harder and faster.

Did I enjoy it? Well, no. It hurt like hell. If I was masochistic, I would have enjoyed the pain. But I'm not. And I didn't. Katie eased the hurt by taking my prick, which was bouncing to Nick's thrusts, deep into her accomplished mouth.

It was soon over. Nick wanted to save his last reserves of semen, so I was spared the ignominy of a spunk enema.

When he was out of me, I had to run for the bathroom. I finished my urgent task and called out to the others;

"I'm going to take a shower."

The shower was huge, a wet-room in fact. About seven feet by four, with water jets everywhere. A rigid glass screen separated it from the rest of the room. Katie and Nick joined me. They had both refilled their champagne glasses and mine too. I politely refused, Katie drained it and then her own. Nick steeped into the shower area first while Katie removed the now shredded stockings and their sexy supporters. Katie soaped us both liberally, Nick and I were hard all the time. Then we did Katie, fingers probing every orifice. We dried each other and returned to the bedroom. The duvet was on the floor at one side of the bed, having been displaced by our mutual writhings. Katie picked it up and placed it on the sofa, then did her housewife thing, smoothing the bed and plumping the pillows while Nick uncorked another bottle of Reims' finest.

It was late, I was tired. Fucked in every sense of the word. The alcohol was taking it's toll and I was probably out of spunk. One more ejaculation was probably the best I could manage. I admitted as much to Nick and Katie.

"I'm not sure that I can manage even one more." Said Nick.

"You can both suck me off then." Katie responded. "You first." Indicating me.

She was fresh from the shower, but cunt-honey always tastes good. Better even than good Champagne. She stretched out on the bed. I sucked on her stiff teats to get her juices flowing, then kissed my way down to the promised land. She did her 'splits' trick. Her slit spread wide for my oral devotions. Licking, sucking, nibbling, kissing, I brought her well-fucked hole to the threshold. I pushed my thumb into her slippery arse-hole and tripped her over the edge.

Nick pushed me aside and applied his tongue to the sopping gash, but he concentrated more on the tight ring of her anus, pushing his tongue in deep. Katie came again. How many times was that? How much more could she take? How I envy a woman's almost limitless capacity for orgasm.

Katie then suggested that we form a sucking triangle. I was to suck her, she would suck Nick, Nick would suck me.

"Don't you come though," she ordered, "save it for the 'grand finalé'."

We triangled, we sucked. Guess what? Katie came again.

For the penultimate tableau, Kate had me lie on the bed, got astride me facing my feet and impaled her arse on my prick. Nick was instructed to put himself into her other hole and we took her in this awkward position.

"Enough!" Complained Nick. "I'm done for."

For the 'grand finalé', Katie knelt on the bed, Nick and I had to stand in front of her and wank out our last dregs onto her face. I was surprised at how much I squirted, as did Nick. Katie loved it, her fingers strumming at lightning speed on her, surely by now, sore clit, as our last reserves coated her pretty face.

Katie lay back onto the bed, Nick lay beside her, facing. They wrapped arms around each other in a tender embrace, Nick licking our combined libation from her face and neck. I gently placed the duvet over them. I dressed and left, quietly closing the door on what had been a profitable, ball draining and perhaps dangerous encounter.

I took a taxi home and reflected on my evening. Was Nick a closet gay? This would explain Katie's boyish appearance and hairstyle. He certainly seemed keen to make full use of my body. 

I slept fitfully that night. I was worried. I had just had prolonged, unprotected sex with two strangers. I had been paid well, but it would not compensate for having been infected. The next morning, I called the doctor. Not my GP, but The Doctor. She was paid a retainer by Karen, to give all of her sex workers a monthly health check. My check was due next week, but I asked if she could see me today. She agreed to see me immediately.

She did the usual inspection and tests, but the samples had to be sent to a lab before any results were known. The Doctor said that she would have the samples couriered and the results made available urgently. This cost me a chunk of my immoral earnings from the night before, but I was willing to pay.

I spent an anxious few days. The results were not available on the morning when I was due to start my next working week, so I 'phoned in sick. The next day, The Doctor telephoned to say that the tests were clear. It was my birthday. The all clear was the best present I could have had.

-------------------------------------------------

The following week, Shelly told me that she was trying to arrange a birthday treat for Karen. (It seemed to be a time for birthdays.) She was trying to arrange for the six of us 'companions', to give her "a good seeing to". I was happy to agree, I was indebted to Karen. The event was arranged in the large room of the parlour, the one with the king sized bed, after the shop closed on the day of Karen's birthday. Karen must have known that something was afoot, but went along with it.

Shelly opened the door to the room where we were all waiting and waved Karen through, saying;

"Happy birthday Karen. Enjoy."

Karen knew what to expect, she stripped off her clothes and lay down on the bed. We had drawn lots for who was to be first, six on one has to be organised. We would each take our turn and let things develop from there. Peter was first. He went between her legs and sucked her cunt until she came, then pulled on a condom and slipped into her, missionary style. After a few strokes, he pulled out and told Karen to get on all fours. He then pushed his fat cock into her arse while stud number two, J.T., offered his cock for her to suck.

We each took our turn, being sucked, licking her clit, fucking then buggering her. I had never seen Hugo put his monster into the tight ring of an anus, but Karen took it with ease.

Shelly, meanwhile, sat on the sofa, skirt round her waist and hand down her knickers, wanking furiously. She must have come as many times as did Karen.

After we had all had each hole, things began to get confusing, there were six pricks and only three holes. Karen had cunt and arse fucked simultaneously, while sucking alternately on however many cocks she could reach.

Shelly stage managed the big finish. She had Karen kneel on the floor while all six of us wanked onto her face and tits. Shelly by now had removed her own skirt and knickers, her blouse hung open, pointy little tits lifted out of her bra. She stood watching closely, fingers a blur as she strove to match her climax to our ejaculations. When the spunk started to spurt, she fainted with pleasure and missed the anointing of Karen as cock after cock spurted generously onto Karen's squirming body. Shelly came round just in time to see Karen's face and tits glazed like glacé fruit.

Some birthday present.



Vice Versa Ch. 04



Chapter 4 -- 'O' level sex education.

There can only be a few really life changing experiences in a lifetime. Jenny was one of mine.

It had been a very slow day. A rainy Wednesday. It was almost six p.m. Nearly time to go home. Then the buzzer went. Hugo and I left the room so that Karen, (Shelly was on her day off.) could do the business. When Karen asked us to come back to be introduced, the client chose me. The client was dressed in a well tailored business suit. Dark grey pin-stripe. She wore thick rimmed glasses, which did not conceal a delicate face with fine bone structure. Rather younger than our usual customers, I thought. I took her to the room, asked if she wished to shower, then left her to it.

When I got back to her, she was sitting on the chair, wrapped in a towel. She stood up, holding the towel protectively. I invited her to lie on the massage couch, which she did, but kept the towel firmly in place.

"A shy one." I thought.

But unusually good looking. The glasses were gone, revealing a perfectly formed, heart shaped face. Fine, pale, almost luminous skin, dark brown hair, deep brown eyes. A real 'English rose'. So good looking that I forgot to take off my tee shirt.

I asked her to lie on her front, removed my tee shirt and shorts, then gently peeled away the towel. From the back, she was breathtaking, slender, long, well shaped legs and an arse to die for. She must have been no more than twenty years old. Think 'Katie Green' and you will be on the right track.

"What should I call you?" I asked.

"Jenny. Call me Jenny."

(I would call her 'stunning'.)

"Would you prefer oil or talc' Jenny? Or just hands?"

She chose hands and I reverently began to caress her exquisite skin. She jumped when I first laid my hands on her. So did my prick. It was a delight to stroke her firm young flesh. My hands seemed to tingle at the touch. I took my time, denying myself the pleasure of massaging her front. My prick banged against the underside of the couch. I willed it down to a more respectable semi, then, with bated breath asked her to turn over.

She did so to be confronted with my naked body. She flinched.

"What are you doing?" She screamed. "I don't...I'm not..."

She seemed to regain control.

"Please put your clothes on." She said, shakily.

She reached for the towel and covered herself, but not before I had had time to drink in the beauty that to her front presented to me. She was quite staggeringly beautiful. What was a woman like this doing in a massage parlour?

"I'm sorry." She said. "I've made a mistake. Will you leave please so that I can get dressed."

I picked up my discarded garments and left sheepishly. I stood on the landing and dressed, then waited for her to come out. I led her back downstairs and she left without another word.

"That was quick." Commented Karen.

I agreed. "Yes. I think perhaps she bottled it. She seemed fine until she rolled over and saw me nude." I suppose she knew the type of service we provide?.

"She knew. You win some, you lose some." Shrugged Karen.

She was right. It was not the first time that a woman had changed her mind about the 'sensual' part of the massage, but usually only when she was asked to spread her legs. We locked up and went home.

I could not get this astonishing woman out of my mind. Even the name sounded beautiful to me. "Jenny. Jenny. Jenny." It ran across the front of my mind like skywriting.

The next day was much busier. Six punters, six sucks, six fucks. No ejaculations though. At a quarter to six, the buzzer went. It was her. Jenny. She chose me again. Up in the room, she apologised for the day before. She was not prepared for me to be nude. Yes, she knew what she was there for, but could I keep my clothes on please?

I left her alone for the requisite ten minutes. When I tapped on the door, she said:

"Come in." Clearly and positively.

She was lying on her back, no towel this time. She was an absolute vision. Firm, high tits, pert brown nipples, flat belly ending in a neatly trimmed bush. And those enless legs. I began to tent my shorts instantly.

She rolled onto her front.

"Oil, I think."

She seemed to be fully in control today.

I began my pleasant task, caressing every delectable curve or her wonderful rear. Then, fearful of a repeat performance, I asked her to turn. Oh bliss! My heart was pounding as I gently cupped her breasts. She stretched like a cat and placed her hands behind her head, so that her gravity defying tits were lifted. Down, down, across her belly to the promised land. She spread her thighs without being asked and I gave her my most loving hand job.

When she had her climax, she frightened me with it's intensity. First she gave a strangled cry and went rigid, pressing my hand against her mound, then passed into what I can only describe as a state of convusion. She came for ages, I supported her spasming body to prevent her from falling off the couch.

She allowed me to stay in the room while she dressed, she now seemed completely at ease with me.

"I'm in town again in two weeks time." She said. "Will you be available?"

"Telephone first to make sure." I replied.

I was longing to ask why she thought she had to pay for sex, but resisted.

***

I was available. It was another Thursday. She came in at about five-thirty. I had been looking forward to it having been told by Shelly that I had; "A client called Jenny at 5:30 p.m." Her tranformation from severe business clothes to ravishing nude beauty, was like seeing a caterpillar become a butterfly.

In the room, she said;

"After the massage thing, can we do...you know, sex? And the tongue thing?"

Could we? I almost came there and then.

"I might have to take my shorts off." I replied.

She smiled and said; "Touché."

I gave me my most attentive wank, to be treated yet again to her thrashing orgasm. How would she be with my tongue on her clit? When she had come down from cloud nine, I asked her how she liked 'it'. She thought for a minute.

"Can I get on top?"

I rolled on the rubber hat and we changed places, me on my back. She climbed gracefully astride me and guided me into her pleasure pit. She seemed somehow inexperienced. I thrust up into her, gradually increasing speed until, without warning, she came again. When it was over, I asked if she would like another position.

"No. I'd like you to..."

"Suck your clit?"

"Yes. Suck my... clit."

"Climb up, sit on my face."

She looked surprised, but obeyed, lowering her moist, sweet tasting lower lips onto my mouth. I gave her my best, but did not want it to stop. Eventually, she exploded again. And this time she did fall off. She got up again, laughing.

"Did you enjoy that?" I asked.

"Oh yes. It was... spectacular."

I was still lying on the couch, propped up on my elbows. I reached down and pulled the condom off my still hard stalk.

"You're still hard." She sounded surprised.

"Yes." I replied. "I haven't come."

She reached out her left hand and gently wrapped her long, slim fingers around my erection. She seemed to be assessing it, measuring it.

"Wonderful thing," she said, from small and wrinkled, to this, this... club. Can I suck it?" 

Silly question.

I replied; "Go on. Make my day."

She bent down, holding back her shoulder length hair, and cautiously engulfed my tip. She moved only slightly, holding the thing in her mouth. She pulled away.

"Does this come back?" Indicating my foreskin.

I nodded. She gently peeled me back, revealing the angry purple head, then re-applied her lips. This time, she sucked. And she was very, very good.

I placed my hand on her head.

Careful," I said, "unless you want a mouthfull of cream."

She shook her head. "Not this time." She said, but I would like to see it spurt. Is that permitted?"

I told her that it was , but it would cost her to see it and I explained why. She was happy to pay. She took it in her left hand again and began to jerk at it.

"Whoa, that hurts." I protested.

She tried again, but could neither get the pressure or the stroke right. For an expert felatrice, she was a rubbish wanktress.

"I'm not good at this am I? She said.

Perhaps if you used your right hand? I ventured.

"But I'm left handed. You do it. I just want to see it shoot out."

So I wanked for her. I could not help but come very quickly. When 'it' did 'shoot out', it was powerful and prolonged, fueled by Jenny's beauty. Seven or eight big spurts fired over my left shoulder to splash onto the white sheet above my head, as well as streaking me from groin to shoulder. Jenny squealed as the cannon fired.

"So much!" She said in apparent wonderment.

Where had this woman been? With her looks, men must have been prematurely ejaculating wherever she went. I cleaned up the mess while she dressed. What a change in her since our first, disastrous meeting.

***

The next week was my week off, which coincided nicely with a wedding which I had to attend. I don't like weddings much, but this was Ian, an old school friend, who had moved years ago from our home town, Manchester, to Leeds, on the other side of the Pennines. I did not see him often, but we were firm friends.

I was surprised to find that it was a very 'high church' wedding. C of E, but rather old fashioned. The vicar was a bit of a bore. Slight Scottish accent, pompous and with that sing-song incantation which is now not fashionable. The bride wore white and the groom and the other main protagonists wore morning suits. I was glad to get out of the church and to the reception, which was at a nearby hotel. It was a lovely day, so after the wedding breakfast, guests gravitated to the extensive gardens of the luxury hotel, sipping chapagne. (Not, unfortunately, Bollinger RD!) I noticed that the vicar had been invited. I had not seen him in the meal marquee, but he was making his presence felt in the garden, pontificating. I moved around trying to avoid him. 

I had just found a rather attractive young woman who seemed to enjoy my company, when a voice behind me said;

"Adrian. I'd like you to meet the vicar and his wife."

My heart sank. I turned to face Kim, the radiant bride, who had spoken. At her side was Vicar McBore. At his side was... Jenny!

The silence could be almost felt. I recovered, but my shock must have registered. I stuck out my hand for shaking, first to Jenny, then to the vicar from hell. Her husband!

Fortunately, Kim whisked both of them away. I decided that a tactical retreat was in order, and looked for Ian, to say good bye.

It took me some time to find him, Kim and her cohort had also disapeared. I was about to leave anyway, when a familiar female voice said;

"Vol-au-vent?"

Jenny held the plate to me. I took one of the offered tit-bits, not knowing what to say.

"Thank you for not recognising me." Said Jenny.

"I'm sorry, have we met?" I countered.

She smiled and turned to walk away. She was wearing a pretty, floral print cocktail dress, which accentuated her lovely arse to perfection. I felt sad as she swayed sexily away and, so I thought, probably out of my life.

A month went by. Jenny did not show up again at the parlour. Life went on. Then, during my next week off, I had a call at home summoning me to a large hotel for an outcall, the next evening. Seven o'clock. For dinner. The client, a Mrs McAdam, would meet me in the bar. She would recognise me.

I was in place early. At dead on seven, as I was sipping my orange juice. A voice behind me said;

"Hello Adrian."

I turned to find a familiar face smiling at me.

"I'm Mrs McAdam."

It was Jenny.

I almost wept. She looked stunning.

"Would you like a drink?" I asked.

"No. We'll go straight in. I've booked a table. You're my husband by the way."

"What shall I call you?" I asked.

"Jenny of course. It's my name."

We went through into the restaurant. Jenny had thoughtfully booked a secluded table, where we were unlikely to be seen or overheard.

Seated, I opened the conversation.

"I thought that I would never see you again."

"So did I. I thought long and hard, but I think. I hope, that you are the right man for what I have in mind."

During the meal, she told me her life story. She had been born in South Africa, of English parents. Her father was a mining engineer. Her mother had been a teacher, which was to prove crucial. Jenny's, (Her full name was Genevieve, even more beautiful than Jenny.) Jenny's early years had been almost idylic, endless good weather, servants and no school. Mum did the educating. Then at the age of eleven, disaster struck. Jenny contracted an illness which, to this day, has not been identified, exept that was viral. This nasty bug had constantly drained her energy, to the extent that she was frequently confined to a wheelchair. She stopped developing as a woman, remaining as a girl. She did not have her first period until the age of twenty-one! By this time the virus was pretty much under control by experimenting with various drug cocktails. All of this was of course, very expensive, and Jenny and her mother returned to England. They moved to a small house near Oxford when Jenny was fifteen. Father stayed in Africa.

If the bug had halted physical development, her brain seemed to go into overdrive to compensate. She was a prodigy. She passed eleven 'O' levels and four 'A' levels, all with distinction. Oxford accepted her with a scholarship and she began to study law.

She had qualified with honours, but, still frail, had gone to work for a small company in Oxford, rather than risk the rough and tumble of the large London practices, for which she had been regularly head-hunted. She was an expert in company law.

Father eventually came back to England, but with only a small pension. Not much demand for mining engineers in the UK at that time. Mother was now quite ill herself. She had devoted herself to her daughter, and it had taken it's toll. Both parents were church goers and when an eligible batchelor vicar came on the scene, a marriage was arranged. He had low libido, had been promised his own church when he married and seemed to be perfect for the fragile Jenny.

The 'church of his own' turned out to be in Leeds. Jenny had played the devoted wife for three years, then as her fragility melted away, aparently of it's own accord, she began to experience the hormonal overdose which most girls have as teenagers. She was by now twenty five. She put the hormone rush into good use, by contacting one of London's finest law firms, who were about to open a Leeds office and was snapped up for the company law department. That had been four years ago.

She had a regular meeting with an associated company in Manchester, every other Thursday morning. She spent the previous Wednesday nights here.

Alex, Mr, or rather, The Reverend, McAdam, 'made love to her' as she put it, only once a week. And always in the missionary position. At least until about a year ago. Now he never touched her. She had orgasms aplenty, but only with her fingers or with a vibrator which she kept well hidden. We are surrounded by sexual references, sex sells. And her female colleagues seemed to talk about little else. As did the women at the excusive health club where she exersised.

"They use all the dirty words too." She said

So she decided to find out what she was missing. At Pampers. Which she had found in a women's magazine.

"But you must have men drooling after you all the time." I said.

"I don't want affairs, they seems to always end in tears, if my colleagues are any guide."

"Then leave him, find a more suitable husband."

That would kill my parents. Besides, Alex is a good, attentive husband. Except in bed."

I shook my head. "A woman like you should not have to pay for sex."

"It's better this way. No strings. And money is the least of my problems."

She drained the last of her coffee, by now the meal was over. She pierced me with those deep brown eyes and said;

"Will you be my private tutor?"

I stood up.

"Take me to bed." I replied.

In the room, there was that awkward moment, always there, in spite of the knowledge that we were there to fuck. I took off my jacket, placing a pack of condoms on the side table. Usually an ice-breaker. Jenny watched.

"Must you use those? I'm pretty sure that I'm 'clean'."

I wanted nothing more than to enter this lovely woman 'bareback'.

"The risk would be yours, I see a lot of women. You choose."

She picked up the pack inspected it and handed them back to me. She gave me a light kiss on the lips.

"I want to feel you properly, like lovers. Besides, what makes you think that three is enough?"

She turned her back to me, looked over her shoulder and said;

"Undo me"

I undid the catch and slid down the zip, lifted her hair and kissed her neck. She shuddered slightly. She stepped away from me, out of the dress. I whistled softly. At Pampers, she had always worn sensible, plain underwear. She now stood before me garnished by the finest, 'come and fuck me' lingerie, complete with stockings and suspenders. She did a little striptease, slowly revealing her luscious body until she was nude.

"I don't believe that you have never done this before." I said.

"I know what to do, I've just never done it." She replied.

I quickly stripped off my own clothes, took her hand and led her to the bed. No foreplay was needed, just being together was enough. I just wanted to get inside her. I positioned myself above her, forgetting that this was her 'marital', position, she opened her legs wide. My cock found her opening without assistance and I slipped full length ito her. She was as wet as I was hard.

"Wrap your legs around me." I instructed.

She did so, gripping me with her thighs, making movement difficult, but not impossible. We fucked like lovers of long standing. We fucked, not, 'I fucked her'. It seemed to be a perfect coupling, slow and passionate. As much as I wanted to make it last , my balls had ideas of their own. Very sooon I was spurting powerfully, deep, deep inside her. She must have felt the same, she came with me in that rarest of things, a mutual orgasm. As our juices mixed inside her, I knew that I was in love with her.

I rolled onto my side, taking her with me, still held tight in her cuntal clasp, still hard. I showered her face and breasts with kisses.

"That was fantastic." I said.

"That is the first time that I have climaxed during sex. If it was good for you, how do you think I feel?" She replied. "I do know the positions by the way. I know about wrapping my legs around. As I said, I know what to do."

"How do you know?" I countered.

She turned her face away, embarrased.

"I bought some videos." She said softly.

"Porno's?"

She nodded.

"Then you will know the words." I said. "What you said downstairs about 'dirty words', they're not dirty, except in the minds of ignorant people. Don't use them as swear words, I never do. How can something as beautiful as filling your cunt with spunk be considered dirty?"

She nodded. "Teach me more." She demanded. "Teach me how to... wank you."

So I did. She was a fast learner, she had me at boiling point in no time. I had to stop her.

"Teach me how to suck your, what do you call it?"

"My prick? That's what I prefer, cock is good too. But you don't need lessons in cock sucking, you're a natural. Just do it."

She went down the bed and took my boner into her delightful mouth, I thought that I was in heaven. Her mouth was made for my prick. I had to stop her. I turned her round so that I could lick her cunt as she sucked me, that should provide a distraction. She came again, that wild, thrashing climax that I had witnessed at Pampers. When she was calm again, I pointed out that her half of our mutual climax had not beeen so wild.




Vice Versa Ch. 04



"It's not always like that. I don't know why. Sometimes it's just like, Ohhhhh."

I kissed her so that she could taste herself.

"Do you taste yourself when you masturbate?" I asked.

She turned her face away again and nodded.

"Do it now, while I watch"

She hesitated, then rolled onto her back. I positioned myself for the best view, and settled down to see the show. She had an Ohhhhh orgasm, this time, and clamped her legs together as she came, cutting off my view. Then she raised her fingers to her mouth and licked them. She then put her fingers back to collect more, glazed her nipples with it and invited me to suck it off. As I said. Fast learner.

"I can taste me there too." I said.

"I want to taste you properly." Again the hesitation. "I want you to come in my mouth."

I nodded my approval. Who wouldn't?

"What should I do with it when you come?" 

"With my spunk?"

"Yes, your... spunk."

"Two choices, spit it out or swallow it. It will do no harm. Some people say it's nutritious."

She bent over me again, this time I could let go. Oh! How good she was with her mouth. When I felt the rush, I warned her that it was coming. She sensed it, pulled back so that just the tip was in her mouth, and collected my offering on her tongue. She sat up and opened her mouth, showing me the thick goo on her teeth. Then she closed her mouth and gulped it down.

"Salty." She said.

I went down on her again, this time on her back, spreadeagled. I brought her to the brink many times before I finally let her come, by sucking hard on her clit. This time it was a big one. I thought that she would pass out.

It was time for more fucking, I turned her onto all fours and slipped easily into her oily passage, I used her hard until I was close to coming, then reached round to finish her with my fingers. We fucked in every position, she could not get enough. I had to come once more. It would probably be my last I told her. She decided that she wanted to see it again.

"Will you wank onto my tits? She asked.

If she was expecting a power shower like the one she had witnessed in the parlour, she was disapointed. But she did not say so. But I didn't do too badly, there was enough to give her lovely tits a thin coating. She scooped it up and licked it from her fingers. I licked up what was left. Then we fell asleep.

I woke up during the night with a mighty erection. We were sleeping in the 'spoons' position, with me behind. I reached forward and slipped it into her wet gash. She woke up and pushed appreciatively back to counter my thrusts. I think I came again. Perhaps not. I was knackered.

I woke up again at five a.m. I dressed and left. I wrote my private number on the thoughtfully provided notepad, along with the note;

"Call me when you're ready for the next lesson. I don't want to be paid. I'm enjoying it too much."

I climbed into one of the ever present taxis and headed home. I was sad. Sad because I knew that I loved her but she could never be mine. She was the most beautiful woman I had ever seen, she was putty in my hands. But I could never become her equal. Who would marry a prostitute? An ex-prostitute perhaps. I would have to find another way to make a living. But then it would probably too late. I would have to make the most of what I had. I was not going to let some other lucky sod become her trainer.

***

Two agonising weeks passed. On Tuesday afternoon of the second week, my home 'phone rang. I had been working that morning. It was Jenny.

"I've just been speaking to your receptionist. She said that you were not available for outcalls this week. I even remembered to ask for you by your nom-de-penis. What's going on?"

"I was working this morning. They will not book outcalls on an in-parlour day. You should have called me."

"Well I'm calling you now. Do you want to meet again tomorrow?"

"Same place?"

"Yes."

"Same time?"

"Yes."

"I'll be there. Oh, your 'films', are they tape or DVD?"

"DVD."

"Bring one with you."

"Alright. See you tommorrow."

I had noticed that the TV in the hotel had a DVD slot in it. We could look at the film together and see what she wanted to try. I hoped that she had chosen a seriously hardcore film!

Wednesday dragged. I found it difficult to concentrate on the pale, doughy bodies offered for my ministration. Fortunately, none of them wanted me to come for them. I was able to save it for Jenny. I was in the bar ten minutes early, scrutinising the hotel lobby for her to appear.

My heart skipped several beats when she did. This time she was wearing a skirt and blouse, with a loose fitting jacket over it. I went to meet her and we kissed and headed for the restaurant. Same discreet table as last time. She removed her jacket, pushing out her chest to show stiff nipples forming little tents in the white blouse. No bra. She hung the jacket on the chair back and sat down.

We chatted, small talk until the starter arrived. I asked her about the now absent spectacles. She replied;

"They are plain glass, I don't need them. People take me more seriously when I wear them."

She paused, then leaned forward and said;

"How many women have you fucked today?"

"Why? Are you jealous?"

"No, just curious. I want to know all the spicy details."

"It would be unprofessional."

"I don't want names, just the juicy stuff."

So I told her. Spicing it up a little. There had been four. All had wanted penetration and oral. This took us right through the starter and the main course, the waiter whisked away the plates promising to return with the desert menu. As he walked away, Jenny leaned forward and said;

"Do you come inside them?"

"No. There would be no point. I can come on them, or in their mouths, but to come inside them would be a waste. I always wear a condom and even if I didn't, a woman can't feel the stuff spurt."

She thought about it.

"I can," she said, "every time."

She sipped her wine.

"Is your cock stiff?"

"Like an iron bar. Is your cunt wet?"

"Sopping. So are my knickers."

The waiter brought the desert menus.

"Shall we skip desert?" She asked.

I looked up at the waiter and said;

"Just coffee."

He went off to get it. I leaned forward and whispered;

"What colour are they?"

"Black."

"Stockings?"

She nodded and added;

"But no bra."

"I noticed. I'm going to fuck you fully dressed. Bend you over, lift up your skirt, pull down your knickers and fuck you standing. Touch yourself. Show me how wet you are."

"What! Here?"

"Yes. Wank for me."

She looked around the room and then put both hands beneath the table. I could tell from her movements that she was doing it. We were interupted by the arrival of the coffee. She stopped the movements but her hands stayed hidden. She went back to work as soon as the waiter left. Soon she gasped and shook as her crisis came. Luckily it was an 'Ohhhh' orgasm. Somebody would have called an ambulance had it been a 'Vesuvius' orgasm! She gave me the sticky fingers to suck clean.

"Yor turn." She grinned. "Get it out."

I struggled to free my boner from the confines of my clothes, but got it free and moved my hand slowly up and down.

"Is it out?" She demanded.

I nodded. She looked around. The tables closest to us were empty. It was still early for dining. She carefully folded her napkin and slipped down under the table. Seconds later, she took my shaft in her left hand and placed her lips over my straining knob.

Shock and delight. I had never experienced this. I could not control the rush of spunk, up my shaft and into her mouth. She stayed in place until every drop was spent, then climbed back into her seat. She leaned forward and parted her lips. The stuff was still in her mouth. She tilted her head back and swallowed. I could almost see the stuff slide down her throat. She licked her lips, finished her coffee, stood up and said;

"Ready?"

I was not. My still stiff prong was sticking out from my flys. Much to her amusement I had to wrestle to get it concealed.

***

In the lift, I slipped my hand inside the blouse and fondled her tits as she kissed me.

In the room, she pulled the sofa away from the wall, leaned forward holding the back and said;

"Well? Are you as good as your word."

I moved behind her and pulled the skirt up to her waist, then, kneeling, slipped the knickers (And they were wet.) down so they caught on her stocking tops. I parted her legs slightly to stop the knickers sliding right down, kissed each lovely buttock in turn, pulled down my pants and shorts and guided my quim-seeking missile to it's target. She was tight in this position. I drove home in one slow steady thrust. I held still, savouring her heat around my shaft, but she wanted movement, she pushed back at me. She was gagging for it. So I gave it to her. In long deep strokes. I entertained myself with her swinging tits for a while, but decided that I would not come again so soon, so I moved both hands to her mound and frigged her bud until she squealed out another orgasm.

We stripped and moved the action to the bed. For long, delicious minutes it was just kissing and caressing. Then, when we could wait no longer, the fucking began. All angles were tried until finally I was deep inside her in the doggy position. One of my favourites and, so it seemed, one of hers too. I had been hard and inside her for so long that I just had to come, or my balls would burst. She sensed my iminent release, looked back over her shoulder and said;

"Spray it on my bum and my back."

I pulled out and with a few quick strokes of my hand, obiged. With gratitude.

She fell forward onto the bed, streaked from arsehole to neck with shining grey-white strands.

"Mistake." She said. "I can't lick it off from there."

I used my own tongue to transfer the stuff to her, scooping up a tongufull, then reaching for her mouth to transfer it with kisses. She had developed a taste for it. She was still on her front, legs still parted from our fuck-position. A small amount of my come was in the groove of her buttocks, trickling slowly down to her anus. She jumped when I collected this last drop. I decided to move her lessons on to the next level and pushed my pointed tongue into the rose-brown puckered hole.

"Ohhhh." She breathed, that's fantastic. Don't ever stop."

I licked, kissed and probed into this taboo place and wondered if she was ready to take something much bigger. But before I could make the move, she said;

"You're going to have to stop. I need to pee."

"Can I watch." I asked.

She considered my proposal, the said;

"You, Adrian whatever-your-name-is, are a pervert... Yes, alright."

We made our way into the bathroom.

"Squat down in the shower," I suggested, "I won't see in if you sit on the loo."

She obliged. I marvelled at the thin golden stream wich flowed out of the now familiar hole. She squeezed out the last drops and stood.

"Happy now?

I nodded.

"Your turn then. Let me hold you while you do it."

"I can't pee with a stiffy!" I protested.

"Try."

She took hold of it.

"It won't go soft if you hold it." I ventured. "Go away and I'll call you when, or if, it's soft."

She did. I concentrated hard until the hydraulics returned to water mode, the called her back. She held it and sprayed it about, giggling, until I was drained. I was now bone hard again.

"It's a pity the other stuff is not so plentiful." She quipped. 

She turned the shower on to rise away the urine. I pushed her under the water jets and kissed her.

"Time for some shower sex." I explained.

We washed each other, her tits and my prick getting special attention. I then knelt in front of her and sucked her off with the warm water streaming over us. She had a little 'Ohhhh' come.

We dried each other and retuned to the bed.

"Run your film," I suggested. "show me your favourite bits."

She produced the disc from her bag and I slotted it into the TV, handing her the remote control. It was pretty standard stuff. She muted the 'grunt and groan' of the sound track.

"I don't really have a favourite bit," Said Jenny. "I bought it to see what it was about."

There was a foursome on screen, a black couple and a white couple. They went through the usual routine, then changed partners.

"Are black men really bigger than white? Jenny asked.

"Apparently not, statistically. You have to remember that the men in these films are not chosen for their acting abilty, but for size and coming power. Mind you, do you remember seeing Hugo at the parlour when we first met?"

She nodded.

"His is a monster."

The monster black cock on film was being forced into the tight arsehole of the white woman, Jenny turned the sound up so that we could hear her yell.

"That must hurt." Said Jenny.

"It does." I replied.

Jenny stopped the film.

"You've done it!" She said. "You've had another man's cock up your bum?

I should not have responded to her first comment. Now it was my turn to blush.

"Yes. Once. And yes it hurt. It did no damage though. Look at her, or them."

The women on screen were now both being anally stuffed full of large, stiff man-meat.

"It's just a matter of getting used to it. Do you want to try?"

She thought for a while, the on-screen screams from the women were now of delight, not pain. "Harder, harder." Went the dialogue.

"I do." Said Jenny. "Right now, but go easy. You're not exactly small in that department. You must be half as long again and twice as thick as Alex, but it feels good inside my... my cunt."

She switched off the film. I had a tube of lubricant in my jacket pocket, in case this moment arrived. Jenny asumed the position. I put a generous helping of lube onto her offered sphincter and placed my tip against the tiny hole, pressing gently. I pushed and the tip popped in. Jenny gave a little squeal. I made very slow movements, gaining depth with each forward push. She began to push back. Soon I was as far in as I was ever going to be.

"Are you alright? I asked.

"It's fantastic." She said. It doesn't really hurt, I just feel so full!"

I pulled back and began to fuck her virgin arse. She loved it!

"Don't stop. She commanded. "Go harder, deeper, it's out of this world."

So I banged into her as fast and hard as I could, her slim little arse stretching to accommodate my thick tool. She came. A big one. A 'Vesuvius.' She fell forward, dislodging me. When she came round, She said;

"Do it again. I had no idea it could feel so good."

So I did. I had to stop before I lost my load, so I made her come again with my tongue up her arsehole as far as I could get.

"Now I know why some men prefer men." She marvelled. "Thank you."

We had a break for drinks, orange juice. Then Jenny turned the film on again. The two on-screen studs had turned their attention toward the black girl. She was astride the white man, who was pounding up into her dark pink twat. The black man was thrusting his cock into her mouth. He then disisted from that and positioned himself so that he could penetrate the unstuffed other hole. Her arse. The white girl slid under the black one and presented her cunt for sucking. The white girl then received the same treatment before the scene changed to the come shot, both men spilling the white stuff onto the faces, tits and into the open mouths of the two girls. The film ended with the girls licking the come from each others bodies, then going into a torrid lesbian sixty-nine while the men looked on.

"What's your, er, Hugo like?"

I could guess what was coming next.

I replied; "He's alright. A gentle giant. Cultured, well educated. His English is not good, he comes from a French-speaking part of Africa. But our punters don't pay us for conversation, so it matters little."

"On parle Français." She said.

Of course she did. I should have guessed.

"Could you organise him for me? Enquired Jenny.

"Hugo. Yes. In the parlour or here?"

"Here."

"You will have to pay him. And he will probably insist on being rubbered-up."

"I'm going to pay you. And I want you here too. I want you both at the same time."

There was a little argument about her wanting to pay me.

"There are men who would pay a thousand a night for what we do together. I am doing it for free and that's that."

She shrugged.

"Try to get him for two weeks time. Just for a couple of hours. No dinner. And two weeks after that, I would like a girl. And you as well of course. Can you arrange that?"

I said that I could.

She went on; "I'd like to watch you being buggered. Can you arrange that?"

"I could, but it will never happen." I replied.

"Three hundred for each of you?" She asked.

"Three hundred for Hugo, not for me. A sort of 'buy one ,get one free' deal."

"She laughed. "But 'the house' must take a cut, how much is that?"

"Twenty-five per cent."

She pursed her lips. "That's a lot. Let me at least pay your sevent-five."

We agreed on that.

I wish that she had not brought the film. What had been a hugely enjoyable all-night fucking session, had turned into a market place. I sulked for a while.

"Come on," she said, "fuck me again, you on top, like proper lovers. And I want to feel you come inside me."

I left her asleep and crawled into a taxi. When I dipped into my pocket to pay the taxi, I found £200 in my pocket. Why do women always have to have the last word?

 I was on mornings on the day, two weeks later, for when Jenny had requested the threesome. And Karen was manning reception, Shelly was away on holiday. I magaged to persuade Karen that Jenny would only pay for the threesome if I was involved. Hugo was on his rest week anyway. It meant £150 in Karen's hand, so she agreed.

"If I get any complaints the next day," she said, "there will be trouble."

So I met Jenny as usual two weeks later and we dined together. Hugo was expected at 8 p.m. We skipped starters. She was very quiet and thoughtful. During main course, she asked;

"What was your score for today?"

I smiled. "Three. Three sucks, three fucks."

"How many comes?"

"One." 

"Where?"

"In her mouth."

She raised her eyebrows. "Naughty! You should save it all for me."

"Plenty for everybody." I quipped. "And there will be a generous donation from Hugo."

She laughed. "You make it sound like horse trading."

And really. It was. I tried to steer her back to more pleasnt thinking.

"What colour are they today?" I asked.

"White. Virginal white. And yes, wet." She replied

"I want to fuck you, right now" I said softly.

She laid down her knife and fork and folded her knapkin. She always did that, knowing full well that it would be put straight into the laundry basket.

I stood and simply left mine on the table. We headed for the lift.

She had moved the sofa already, in anticipation of our fully dressed, stand up coupling. She assumed the position. I lifted her skirt, lowered her knickers, took out my erection and felt for her cunt. She was hairless, she had shaved!

"Not there." She protested. "In the back. Use your lube-ey stuff first."

I did as asked, oiling her anal pucker and preparing it with two fingers, before sliding in to her.

"Hard and fast," she ordered, and let me feel you spurt."

It was over very quickly. She went to the bathroom to clean up.

"That should prepare it for Hugo." She said as she retuned.

"You're not going to take him up your arse!" I marvelled.

She grinned back. "If it will fit."

She briefed me on what she wanted doing to her. "So that there is no misunderstanding."

I reminded her to use my working name, not 'Adrian'. In fact she used neither, nor did she call Hugo by name. She would just point to one of us and say;

"You. Lick me."

Or whatever she wanted. She was in total control




Vice Versa Ch. 04



Hugo was in the bar, as arranged. I introduced them and she shook his hand. Aparently unconcerned at the thought of his great cunt-stretcher entering her every hole. We trooped silently to the room. We undressed. She appraised Hugo's equipment and nodded, then lay face down on the bed.

We were to carry out the standard two-man massage, exept that Hugo and I had to kneel on the bed, it being much wider that a massage couch. When she turned over, we laid, one on each side. Hugo spread her and I did the wanking, each sucking a tit. She had one of her more spectacular orgasms, we had to hold her down. Hugo looked across at me questioningly, his eyes like saucers. I simply grinned.

Phase two was for me to mount her, missionary position. Hugo ofered his cudgel to her lips. She took it in her hand and carefully streched her lips around it. He pushed in while I pulled out, setting up a perfect fucking rythem. I supported my weight on my arms, so that I could see Hugo's cock sliding in and out. She held onto the shaft, to limit his penetration, but she took a good proportion of it. Eventually, she released him and ordered a change of position.

She went onto all fours and instructed Hugo to enter her from behind. In her cunt. I was relegated to the role of spectator while Hugo reamed her. Spectacular! Whe she was ready, she ordered him out and instructed me to bugger her in the same, doggy position. I knew that I was simply the warm up act. Hugo was the main feature.

She told me to stop and for Hugo to take my place, still in the kneeling position, so I was able to watch her tight hole distend to accept the beast. She took it all in, right up to Hugo's balls. It happened slowly, but to my amazement, she took it.

"Now fuck it." She commanded.

I thought that he would split her, but he pounded away until she came again. She staggered to the bathroom, stayed there for a full ten minutes, the reapeared, looking radiant. She laid back on the bed and spread her legs. She pointed to me.

"Suck me." She said.

I sucked, she came.

"Now you." Indicating Hugo.

He sucked, she came again.

Next, she mounted Hugo, sinking right down onto his rigid prong. She turned to me and told me to;

"Stick your's up my bum. Gently."

So we double fucked her. She came again.

She orderd me out of her arse and into the other end of her digestive system.

"Come in my mouth." She instructed.

I blasted what felt like a prize-winning amount of spunk into her greedy mouth and she swallowed all of it. She detached herself form Hugo's anchor post and told him to stand, then knelt at his feet.

"Now you. Come in my mouth."

And she once again engaged the black snake. Hugo also, was ready for a come. When he came, she gagged on it, coughing and spluttering his seed onto the hotel room carpet.

Bathroom again. This time she emerged wearing a bathrobe, went to her handbag and counted out Hugo's £300. She turned to me.

"You stay." She said.

Then she showed Hugo out.

She disapeared into the bathroom once more. This time I heard the shower running. I remade the bed and climbed beneath the duvet to wait. I was not convinced that I had done the right thing by introducing a third party into our relationship. What had just taken place seemed clinical, slightly sordid. I could not help though, marvelling at the change in this lovely woman, from a timid wallflower, who had been repulsed by the sight of my nude body, to the nympho who had demanded to be fucked up the arse by what may well have been the biggest, blackest cock in England.

Jenny emerged in the bathrobe, which she removed and slipped naked into bed beside me, laying on her back. She was fresh and fragrant from the shower. I tuned towards her and but my arm across her waist.

"Are you alright?" I asked.

"Yes. I think so." She replied. "A bit sore though."

She turned to face me.

"Just hold me." She whispered.

I wrapped my arms lovingly around this wonderful package of female pulchritude, savouring the moment. My prick began to stiffen again at the contact.

"Hugo's not that much bigger than you, is he?" She murmered into my chest.

"I suppose not, in absolute terms, but a little goes a long way in that area." I replied.

Hugo was probably less than an inch longer than my offering, and a bit thicker. But we had never measured our respective members.

"He hurt me a bit. I thik perhaps that he's too much for me."

I was releived.

"You don't want a repeat performance then?"

She shook her head. "I think perhaps sex is best with two players."

I had to agree. "Shall I not arrange anything for next time then?"

She pulled away and looked at me. "What do you mean."

"The threesome with another woman." I explained.

"Oh, that." She said. "Yes. I want to try it. For all I know, I might be a lesbian. And at least I won't have my insides re-arranged"

We fell asleep in each other's arms. I awoke several hours later with pins and needles in the arm under her. I gently extracted it and decided that I needed to pee. She was awake when I returned, lying on her back. I lay alongside and plced my arm across her again, this time cupping a lovely tit. 

"Make love to me." She asked. "Not 'fucking'. Let's make love."

I went to mount her, then had a better idea.

"Lift your legs right up."

She obliged. I placed myself under her bottom and had her lower her legs around me. I parted her thighs and guided my prick into her from underneath. Then moved away so that I was lying at right angles to her body, forming a 'T', she on her back, me on my side. Only our genital regions were in contact. In this position, I began to thrust gently up into her and was able to stroke her clit at the same time.

She came. An 'Ohhh' come. And at the same time, I released my last reserves of semen into her.

***

I was one my 'free' week a fortnight later, so no argument from Karen. I arrange for Chelsea to meet us at eight, in the hotel bar. By now, I had met several of the girls from Karen's more conventional fuck parlour. Chelsea was the one I would have chosen if I was a male punter. Good looking, good company and a good fuck.

I met Jenny as usual, at seven and we dined together.

"Red." She said, without being asked. "But no 'hors d'oevres' tonight. I want to see you with her first."

We met Chelsea as arranged and went up to the room. Behind Chelsea's back, Jenny mouthed;

"Good choice."

As I well knew.

Jenny wanted the two person massage, as I had expected. I had pre-arranged that I would do the labia spreading and Chelsea would do the clit-massage. Jenny had an 'Ohhh' come. She sat up on the bed.

"I want you to lick her," she said. Then nodding at Chelsea, "then you suck him."

I bent willingly to my task, Jenny watched very closely as I tongued Chelseas wet hole, licked her long, pink inner lips and sucked on her clit. Chelsea came, I think genuinely, no faking. Jenny then kissed me on the mouth, no doubt to taste Chelsea's juice before committing herself to tasting it straight from the source.

I then lay on my back while Chelsea went to work on my quivering erection. Chelsea could easily be the captain of an England Olympic cock sucking team. She was quite brilliant at it. I survived the treatment without disgracing myself. Jenny then had Chelsea mount me and ride me. Jenny herself rolled the durex onto my prick, using her mouth. We had to go through the positions until Jenny had drunk her voyeuristic fill.

"Now suck me, both of you. You first." Nodding at me.

I went between her widespread thighs to feast on this, now familiar, sweet exotic fruit. Jenny signalled the switchover and Chelsea immediately took my place. I watched closely, fondling Jenny's tits and stiff nipples as Chelsea's skilled tongue worked it's magic, bringing Jenny to a full-blown, shuddering climax. Chelsea seemed unsurprised at the power of Jenny's orgasm. Perhaps she enjoyed such herself when it was for her own pleasure and not for others.

Down to earth again, Jenny addressed Chelsea;

"Will you let him come on your face?" She asked.

"With pleasure." Replied Chelsea.

She knelt on the floor at my feet and took my prong into her mouth again, this time wanking the shaft at the same time. Jenny enjoyed the sight for several minutes, then took over the wanking, pulling me from Chelsea's mouth and finishing me off herself. It was the work of no more than thirty seconds to bring me to bursting point. Jenny directed the copious spray at Chelseas face, spurt after thick spurt covering mouth, nose and eyes. Jenny then pushed me out of way and licked the stuff from Chelsea's face, changing to kissing Chelsea passionately when she had drunk her fill of me. They fell to the floor in a passionate embrace. Mouth to mouth, tits to tits and bare mound to bare mound.

Chelsea was on her back, Jenny lying on top of her. Jenny broke the kiss and quickly moved down netween Cheseas parted thighs, diving her tongue straight into Chelsea's gaping cunt before giving herself time to reconsider. Chelsea came very quickly and this time there was no doubting the veracity or the strength of her orgasm. Chelsea had just experienced Jenny's skill as a natural born cock/cunt sucker.

We had drinks to replace the lost body fluids, then we headed for the shower. Showering with two beautiful, willing women must be one of the best experiences possible. Every tit, every buttock, every cuntlip, every ball sack and every prick was thoroughy soaped and rinsed. Every hole was probed with fingers and tongues. I knelt and pushed my tongue from one cunt to another in turn, the the girls knelt and passed my prick from one mouth to the other.

We dried each other and went back to the bed. The girls got into a delightful sixty-nine, slurping away at each others fuck-holes for their pleasure and mine. Then Chelsea turned around, moved between Jenny's widespread thighs and began to rub Jenny's clit with a nipple. Jenny sqealed in delight at this new experience. Chelsea tit-wanked Jenny until she was on the brink again, then pushed her whole tit against and into Jenny's spasming cunt.

Jenny then wanted to try this on Chelsea, who readily agreed.

She nodded at me, "You can't do this to a girl." she remarked smugly.

I watched and wanked, my turn would come. And it did. They took it in turns to wrap my erection in tit-flesh and wank it. Then they passed me from mouth to mouth until I erupted in a rush of thick spunk. What they could not catch in their mouths went onto their faces, whick they then cleaned off with their tongues.

Suddenly Jenny decided that she had had enough. Chelsea was payed and sent away.

"I hope that you've saved the last dance for me." She said.

So we danced. The horizontal, cock in cunt Tango. Jenny had a little come as I fired my last shot into her.

Afterwards, lying in bed cuddling, I asked;

"Well?"

"Well what?"

"Do you think that you're a lezzie?"

She grinned and snugled close.

"More research required, I think.

We fell asleep.



Vice Versa Ch. 05



Conclusion

Life was good. Very good. I had a job that I enjoyed and paid me well, servicing sex-starved women. A hobby that I enjoyed, learning about computers. And a 'girl friend', albeit only fortnightly, with the sort of beauty wars have been fought for.

It couldn't last.

The fortnightly meetings continued. And intensified. When I was available, Jenny would make her trans-Pennine journey earlier in the day, so that we could spend afternoons together, as well as evenings and, oh, those nights. During the afternoons, we would drive to the country in her little car, and, weather permitting, would engage in al fresco sex. We fucked in fields, in woods, in cornfields, wherever there was a little privacy. We sometimes ate out in country pubs, sometimes at the hotel, but always ended up in her hotel bed for desert.

She enjoyed sex however it came, but she had certainly developed a taste for my spunk. At least once each session, I would spurt my seed into the back of her mouth. She also developed a taste, quite literally, for anal sex. Not only did she adore me tonguing her sweet arsehole, she liked doing it to me. She had also somehow learned about prostate massage and could bring me to the most mind blowing orgasms by wanking, or more likely, sucking me off, while her finger did it's wicked work up my bum.

And she just loved my prick up her arse. She would have her best orgasms with me reaming her back passage while either me, or her strummed her clit. I taught her the 'Becky' method of self-gratification, (Thumb in cunt, finger in bum-hole and other hand wanking.) so that she could enjoy similar pleasures by herself. We occasionally engaged in a little mild bondage. We both found that pleasure could sometimes be increased by being restrained and most importantly, blindfolded so that we had no idea what was coming next. S & M was a no-no. Neither of us enjoyed pain.

One night, or rather, early morning, she had drained me dry. I was lying with my cheek on her smooth, flat belly, looking at and caressing, her smooth, hairless mound.

"It's so smooth," I marvelled, "how do you do it?"

"I don't. I pay for it to be done at a beauty parlour. The regular kind. They use wax, and yes, it hurts." She replied.

"What does your husband think about it?" I asked.

"Oh he never sees it. I could have it sewn up for all he cares. I do it for you, do you like it?

Careful Adrian.

"Yes. I do. Although I must confess to being a little old fashioned. I also like women fully furred."

"What do your 'clients' do?"

"Very mixed. I suppose mostly a bikini wax. Some 'landing strips', a few untouched. I've never seen a 'Hollywood' on a client. But the working girls in our associate men's parlour are mostly bald. Men seem to prefer it."

She was quiet for a few moments, then;

"I think that I would like to try it with another woman again. Will you fix it?"

"With Chelsea?"

"No. Someone else. Another woman. Chelsea was fine, but I like a varied diet. Can you get a red-head?"

"I think so, I'll certainly try. Two weeks?"

"Yes. I'll call you. Oh. See if you can get a red-head 'fully furred'. She can be my gift to you. See how much I care for you."

***

There was only one red-head in Karen's employ, so we would have to take a chance on whether she had matching collar and cuffs. When Jenny called, I told her so.

"We can have fun finding out." Was Jenny's response. "Ask her to join us for dinner at seven."

On the afternoon of the appointed day, Jenny announced that we were going to Old Trafford, to see the cricket. It was a charity match between Lancashire and the touring Australian side. How she came by the tickets I will never know. She enjoyed the match, but admitted that she knew little about the game. We left early so that we could be ready for our dinner appointment.

Caitlin was new to Karen's, we had not met. She was Liverpool-Irish. More Irish than Liverpool if the soft, Southern Ireland brogue was anything to go by. And a head-turner. She was thirty-ish, went in and out in all the right places and possessed the most glorious head of hair, the colour of a West of Ireland sunset. A few freckles on her cheeks suggested that the colour was natural and the top of her fine tits, also freckled and revealed by her low-cut, green dress, offered confirmation. She and Jenny hit it off from the start. Caitlin was good company and had a wicked sense of humour which kept us in fits of laughter. Our normally quiet, secluded table was attracting a good deal of attention that evening, women glowering at, and men ogling, my two prick-stiffeningly lovely companions. In just a short time, I was going to be in a hotel room with this pair, for the express purpose of sex.

Life was good.

"What was your score today?" Jenny suddenly asked me.

I reminded her that I had not been working today, I had been with her. Caitlin gave the two of us a questioning look, Jenny explained that it was part of our sex-play.

"Ask me then." Said Caitlin.

"Alright, what was your score today?" Jenny obliged.

"Nine." Announced Caitlin.

"Nine?" I echoed.

"Nine. A bit above average." Caitlin confirmed.

"If I could manage nine in a day I would be retired already" I marvelled.

"Grow some tits and come and work for us," Caitlin quipped. "You've got most of the necessary holes."

"Tell us. All the details." Ordered Jenny.

Caitlin told us about her punters that day. The procedure was much the same as in Pamper's, but the punter did not get to be wanked off and asked what else they wanted. A rubbered-up suck and a fuck was the minimum on offer. Extras included an uncovered suck, all the way to climax if required, a tit wank and if the punter was lucky, an arse-fuck.

Caitlin had had four ejaculations in her mouth and two on her tits. Two more had been allowed to use the road less travelled, her rather expensive anus. The others had spurted into condoms while in the conventional hole.

"What's the most that you've had in a day? Asked Jenny.

"Customers? Nineteen."

But that was a double shift, someone had not turned up to replace her.

"Believe me, " She went on, "I felt fucked (She pronounced it 'focked'.) that night and I couldn't ride my bike for two days!"

More laughter. Jenny was intrigued by Caitlin's story.

"What are the men like, the ones who come to you for sex?"

"Varied. Mostly middle-aged. They're fine. It's usually a friendly commercial transaction. I've got something to sell, or rather, rent, and they are willing to pay for it. They are not shy or ashamed about their needs. It's the younger men who can be a problem, though not so much in Karen's. Karen's is up-market, more expensive than most. Price is an effective filter. And anyway, trouble makers soon find themselves out on the street, sometimes bollock-naked. Our two receptionists are qualified marshal arts experts. But I've worked in other parlours, less discriminating. By no means all, but some young men think that they have paid for the right to abuse a girl. Sometimes they are drunk and/or, put up to it by their mates. Reception can usually spot trouble before it happens, the undesirables are told that the girls are all busy, not available for an hour or so. Then there are the granddads. They're probably the best of all, never any trouble."

It had suddenly become serious.

"I need to powder my nose." Announced Caitlin, standing up.

"Me too." And Jenny followed.

They were gone for a long time, the coffee had arrived by the time they came back, smiling conspiratorially. They took their seats and I poured the coffee.

"Cream, with black lace. And wet." Announced Jenny.

Caitlin cottoned on instantly.

"Green." She said. "And yes, also wet."

They both looked at me. After a long pause, I ventured;

"Alright. White."

Two pairs of eyebrows raised expectantly. They waited.

"I could probably knock nails in with it." I boasted.

"Come on." Ordered Jenny. "It's time."

***

The ride up to the room was uneventful. Once inside, the girls wasted no time in stripping. Caitlin was no disappointment. Under the dress she wore a green 'waspie' type corset which supported black stockings. She removed the matching bra and knickers. Those ripe, freckled tits were pushed up by the corset. And yes, her full but neatly trimmed bush was the same fiery red as her head hair.

She and Jenny came together in a long kiss, broken only by them falling sideways onto the bed. Jenny had left on the, as promised, black lace trimmed suspender belt.

They made torrid but gentle love, for their own pleasure. I was just the audience. But a very attentive audience, I had a fine close view of their couplings. First, Caitlin went down on Jenny's depilated vulva, then Jenny returned the favour on Caitlin's furry mound. Jenny then used the 'Becky' method to bring Caitlin to the first of her many orgasms. No faking. They were all real. Jenny was keen to give Caitlin the tit-in cunt-treatment she had learned from Chelsea, then demanded the same treatment from Caitlin.

I have no idea how often each girl came, but after what seemed an age, they took a breather. I had started my spectating by stroking my towering erection, but had to stop. I was so hard. Caitlin dipped into her bag and fished out a strap-on dildo, which she offered to Jenny. Jenny put the thing on, with Caitlin's help, then took it in her hand and pretended to wank it.

"Shall I leave you two to it?" I enquired. I felt surplus to requirements.

"Oh no," replied Jenny, " we have plans for you."

She waved the prosthetic in my direction. Realisation dawned.

"Oh no. No, no, no." I protested.

"Oh yes, yes, yes, yes." They trilled in unison.

"Be a good boy and take it like a woman," quipped Caitlin, "think of it as practice for increasing you income. 'Arse for rent.' Come on. On your knees."

What the hell, Jenny loved it that way, was I missing out? I knelt on the bed. Caitlin greased my trembling hole and guided the artificial prick to the mark. Jenny was gentle, pushing just the tip in and allowing my sphincter to accommodate to it, then driving slowly all the way in. She paused again, then began to fuck me. Of course it hurt. Or did it? Was it just prejudice? I relaxed and began to enjoy it.

"His cock and balls wave about as you fuck him," said Caitlin, "just like my tits do when I'm fucked from behind."

Jenny had to see. Caitlin strapped on the plastic prick and after more lubing, pushed it back up my, by now, welcoming arse-hole. Jenny lay almost under me to watch the real cock thrash about to Caitlin's thrusts. Caitlin knew just how to do it and only pushed in enough for the artificial glans to stimulate my prostate. Jenny stopped my prick-flailing by taking it into her mouth and I could not stop a tidal wave of spunk from powering out of me into her.

The spontaneity and the sheer power, caught Jenny by surprise and she released the still spurting organ so that if fired it's contents into her face. I fell forward onto the bed as Jenny recoiled from the unexpected stream. The two of us lay panting as Caitlin watched, concerned.

I would be no good to either of for some time, I had just had the best come of my life. Jenny decided to call time and dispatched a rather bemused Caitlin, clutching her £300.

So I did not get the chance to part the hair of Caitlin's burning bush with my one-toothed comb. Not at least, on that occasion.

I quickly recovered, and excelled myself by spunking four times more that night, twice into Jenny's cunt and twice up her arse. Just as well I was not working the next day.

***

Two weeks later and I was looking forward to her call. But the call did not come. Perhaps something had happened to cause cancellation of her meeting and therfore, our tryst? I had sworn that I would not contact her. Ever. She had to make the arrangements.

Two weeks after that and still no call, either to me of to the parlour. I was tempted to go to Leeds just to look at her house, perhaps I would catch a glimpse? I knew that she lived at the vicarage. But this was just torturing myself. And besides, I did not have a car. Forget her, she was the past.

But of course, I could not forget her. I moped. If this was love, I would do without it. I concentrated on my work. Pamper's had got busier all the time, Karen was considering taking on more 'companions, perhaps opening up the large top floor room, as an extra massage room. Becky made her weekly visits for what she now called; "A full service". And chose me when available. She tipped well and it was always a pleasure to do business with her. Outcalls also increased. These were money for nothing. Or at least, for no more that the customers could get for much less in the parlour. But I was not going to complain.

I did become aquainted with Catlin's Fiery thatch. On several occasions, the most memorable of which was the first, not including the Jenny threesome. A client booked a session, asking for; "A man and a girl." I was available and I asked if Catlin could join us.

When Cait and I were admitted to the massage room, a standard room by the way, the woman was still fully dressed. She ordered the two of us to undress. Completely. She wanted us both nude. Even the crucifix that Caitlin always wore, had to go.

We had to pirouette before the punter, so that she could inspect us. When she was happy that we were what she wanted, she undressed. Again, all off. She was a good looking woman, I would have fucked her with pleasure. The performance began. Caitlin was ordered to kneel in front of me and to suck my cock, but I was not to come. The woman masturbated as she watched. Next, she pulled the chair up close to the couch, which she had already set at it's lowest, and ordered me to go to work on Caitlins cunt with my mouth. A pleasure.

The client watched closely as I kissed, sucked and licked Caitlins juicy hole. Caitlin came, genuinely I think, her climax was matched by the client. Then I was told to mount Catlin, missionary position and fuck her. We were told to fuck in numerous positions, each one until the customer made herself come again. Finally we were told to sixty-nine, with me on top. I had to spunk into Caitlins mouth, then Caitlin had to show the mouthful of come before swallowing it. The woman wanked furiously the whole time, she must have come a dozen times during the show.

And that's all it was. A show. She gave us £100 each and asked us to leave. Neither of us had laid a finger on her. A genuine voyeur.

I arranged to have my hair removed in the 'straight' part of Pamper's. It does hurt, but removes the need for every day shaves. I also enrolled on a degree course in computing, with the Open University. I was delighted to fine that my night-school studies qualified as the 'Foundation Course', and was able to go straight for an M.Sc.

***

It was almost seven weeks after our previous encounter, that Jenny called me. At home. Could I get away for a few days next week? I would certainly try, what did she have in mind?

"I will pick you up at midday on Monday, and bring you back on Friday evening. I want to have some time with you, away from the city. We will drive out somewhere and find a small hotel."

So there was some kind of change happening. I invented some ficticious family problem and was given leave to go and sort out the problem.

Jenny picked me up at home after an anxious wait all Monday morning, my heart thumping like a teenager anticipating his first date. As she drew up, I picked up my bag and ran to meet her. She drove away, she had obviously decided on our destination. After the small talk, how are you, nice to see you again, it dawned on me that I had never given Jenny my address, how did she know how to find me? She was silent for a while, then spoke softly, reluctantly;

"My company uses the services of an investgation bureau, I had you checked out months ago. I know everything about you. I did not want to get involved with some kind of criminal. Your proffession is borderline illegal anyway."

My turn for silence. So much for a free country. At first I was annoyed, but eventually softened. I had nothing to hide anyway. But the trip was made pretty much in silence, Jenny was preoccupied with something. Jenny knew precisely where she was going, to a small hotel in central Wales. And we were expected, she had booked.

We had an idyllic five days, or at least, four. It was autumn now and the weather was trying to make up for an indifferent summer. The colours of the countryside were stunning, the hotel good, especially the food. And the bed was big. It took quite a battering as we made up for seven lost weeks.

After breakfast on the fifth day, Jenny dropped her bombshell. This would be our last meeting. She told me the story, starting on the morning after our threesome with Caitlin.

"I turned up for the Thursday morning meeting as usual, only to be informed that it was cancelled. During the previous night, the principal of the company had suffered a heart attack and died. He had been fifty years old. Later rumours suggested that he was on top of his twenty-five year old, model girl trophy wife when it happened."

"Not a bad way to go." I interrupted.

Jenny managed a smile and continued;

"Anyway, I had a free morning. I decided that I would go straight home. I found my husband in bed. With another man.

I walked straight out and back to my office, told them about the demise of our colleague, and began divorce proceedings. I suppose that I knew that I would have to leave him anyway, he had given me a perfect excuse.

I also asked my company if I could be transferred to head office, in London. I am starting there on Monday. I've found a tiny flat, close enough to be able to walk to my office. As from Monday, Jenny is dead. Long live Genevieve.

"And me?" I asked.

"Part of Jenny. A very big part, I will never forget you and I will always remember what a good teacher you have been. But be honest, we could never have worked out as a couple. You will not be a part of Genevieve" 

Brutal, but honest. And she was right. All we had in common was sex. Very good sex, but even if sex was my life, it could never be all of Jenny's.

She kissed me goodbye in the car outside my flat, and I watched her drive away and out of my life forever.

On Sunday morning, there was a bulky envelope in my, usually sparse mail. Hand delivered. I tore it open. It was from her;

"Thanks for everything. I will never forget you. The keys are for my car. I will have no use for it in London. It's yours. All the documents are included."

It was simply signed; "J"

The car was parked right outside my house.

***

A year later, I received a letter, with a central London postmark, obviously from her;

"I have found a wonderful man, kind and generous. I think that I love him. He's not as good as you in your particular area of expertise, but he'll do.

Your best pupil."

I have now received my degree and am job-hunting. What the future holds for me remains to be seen. I will continue my quest for a replacement Jenny, but I know that she does not exist. Jenny was a one-off.