5 comments/ 34142 views/ 4 favorites Black Sex in New York By: danishmichaela Michaela had worn her sexiest and most expensive underwear for the meeting. She always did for big meetings; the bigger the meeting, the sexier the undies. Important meetings turned her on. Negotiating and getting her own way in business discussions excited her. They aroused her and could almost make her cum. Competing in a business meeting was like sexual foreplay to her, coming out top with a negotiation was like straddling a guy and fucking him and winning was like having an orgasm. She rarelt left an important meeting with dry panties! Michaela was one of the most successful investment bankers in London and, in her book that meant the world. She was in the top two or three female UK bankers and was undoubtedly the top female M & A specialist, probably in the world. At just thirty-six, she was now about to win the job she had set her heart when she left London University, some ten years ago. She was about to become, she was sure, the first female MD of the Global Mergers and Acquisitions Department of a serious investment bank. And Goddens, the US owned banking conglomerate, was the most serious of all serious investment banks; they were big, secure, American blue blood with a touch of UK aristocracy, which of course was bought. But the in their worls they could buy anything and anyone. They were aggressive, influential and stupendously successful. There was hardly a major takeover or merger that happened anywhere in the world where Big G, as Goddens was known, was not involved. And from now on Michaela would be responsible for all of that, for she was attending her final interview for the very top job in the world in that part of the bank's extensive activities. As the panel of two American, one German and one English mature bankers, drawn from the main board interviewed her in New York, she was tingling all over. Her heavy, full breasts felt so warm and alive and her prominent nipples were pounding with sensations as their puckered hardness fought valiantly to make indentations in the smooth material of her designer suit. She was used to that, however, so now she bought suits with suitably thick material to prevent them showing. Nevertheless, she knew they would be stretching the gossamer thinness of the Janet Reger, black lace and silk bra. Just as she also knew that the gusset of the black, lacy boy-shorts would be damp if not soaked. Often she had to excuse herself in an important meeting to change her panties and she always had at least three pairs in her bag and case. She knew they would be damp because she knew the meeting had gone great. Michaela could read people, especially men so well that often she knew what they were going to be thinking in two minutes time before they even knew what they were thinking now. She was like a chess player in thinking ahead and it was that, in the main, which made her such an effective and successful negotiator. It always amused to look at her adversaries in meetings. They were mostly male, often, like today, much older than her and usually, she could tell, they fancied her like hell. Then that was hardly surprising. She was stunningly good looking, but not beautiful, she knew that. She considered herself to be dramatic looking rather than glamorous; she preferred that and worked on it. In keeping with her profession she had a rather hard look, a little like Madonna or Glen Close on a bad day. Her lips were probably a little thin and her nose slightly too pointed for her to be considered classically beautiful, but her big, perfectly oval, blue eyes made up for anything else that might be thought of as an impediment to her looks. Having had poor vision since she was a child and never having been able to get on well with contacts, Michaela wore glasses that she thought gave her a more studious look and yet another advantage when negotiating a deal. Her hair was naturally blonde with darker streaks and she wore it short as it was easier and quicker to wash and dry. Off duty she gelled it and made it a little spiky, which made her look younger, more casual and overall sexier, or so she hoped. But then she had little off duty time for she averaged twelve hours a day six and often seven days a week working or travelling. Her skin was pale with the pallor associated with her Danish race and all over it was as smooth as a baby's bottom. Her body was rounded or, as she preferred it to be called, very womanly. She was under no illusions about the fact she was quite a big girl. Five feet eight inches tall and weighing in at just under one hundred and forty pounds she had C cup breasts that often swelled up to D, rotund hips and a slightly oversized, but nevertheless shapely bum. Never having born children her stomach was relatively flat, although when she relaxed there was a slight paunch that she put down to airline and hotel food. She avoided many of the bodily excesses of working too many hours, travelling and eating at the world's most expensive restaurants by regular very hard workouts in the gyms at her offices in London and New York and at her apartment block in London Docklands. Her weight never varied by more than a few pounds usually being spot on one hundred and thirty-nine pounds. She had good legs and men that were arse men simply adored her for her bum was full and rounded with surprisingly full cheeks for one so slim; a real black girl's arse a lover had once complimented her as he plunged his tongue between her cheeks, something she enjoyed from a lover. What amused her most of all in meetings, was that as her opponents and colleagues lusted after her, wondering what it would take to get inside Ms Michaela Henrison's knickers, she was most likely sitting there creaming them at the buzz of the negotiations, not the men. She realised that it was a little dangerous and that did concern a bit, although she was more concerned that someone might find out. A female, senior investment banker who paid for extreme was hardly someone a multi-national would want on their takeover team, but then that was part of the buzz. Buying sex was not so much physically dangerous, but could lead to blackmail, she figured. Nevertheless, Michaela had been buying it for several years now. Buying it wherever her travels took her, New York, Paris, Frankfurt, Japan, Beijing, Mumbai, Dubai and even where they did not take her, her home town, London. Buying it in many forms, buying it to be with men, with women and with both. Buying it to satisfy her fantasies, sex with several men, a gangbang, being fucked by a huge cock and having two guys simulate raping her. Buying it in place of letting sex, romance and love find her. She did not have time to meet friends, to develop relationships other than for business, to meet people outside of her job with whom sex might come about and she fervently avoided any form of attachment to anyone inside her high finance world. She would do nothing to prejudice her naked ambition of making it right to the top in the banking industry. So, since being introduced to upscale escort agencies and the like a few years ago, by a woman who at the time was her boss, Michaela had developed a network of contacts. Trusted contacts that could, for a price, usually an exceedingly high one, but when you are earning over a million a year sterling who cares, provide her with exactly what she fancied and when and where she fancied it. The drive from Wall Street up to the Pierre, although in a chauffeur driven Cadillac, was tiresome. The traffic was terrible and even with the AC, the ninety plus outside temperature and high humidity got into the limo. The only redeeming feature was what she knew would be waiting for her at the hotel. It was that what had got her through the drinks and chat after the interview. It was the expectancy of what would be waiting for her that helped her survive the unnecessary, but traditional, dinner with the head of investment banking, the HR Director and the non-exec director responsible for recruitment. It was the knowledge of what would be waiting in her suite that had enabled her resist going to the toilet after the interview and wanking herself off. And it was that which was stopping her sliding her hands up her stockinged legs and masturbating behind the smoked glass in the back of the limo. It came as no great surprise to Michaela when Roger Grevis the third, the CEO of the bank and Lord Ludlum, the Chairman, told her she had been successful, for she just knew she would be. Despite that, she had not arranged her real celebration of her promotion for tonight. That would come later. For tonight, she had called the agency from London. "Hi it's Missus Mason" she had said to the receptionist, using her ID. "Hello Missus Mason, could I please have your registration number and the answer to your security questions? Michaela gave those and was immediately put through to Naomi, her consultant. She had been dealing with this agency, or consultancy as they called themselves, for some time now and was quite well known to Naomi, albeit by the assumed name; just in case. The agency insisted on not knowing the real identities of their clients and thus went to great lengths to maintain the privacy. That extended to the payment methods. Michaela had to set up an account with a third party with whom she had to lodge five thousand dollars. When a payment was necessary, she would advise the third party as would the agency and the funds would be transferred; there was rarely any change from the five grand! After using this agency for a year or so, Michaela had come to trust them. She didn't buy sex on every trip to New York, after all, she was over about every other week, sometimes just for a day or evening, but when she wanted sex, she now only used them. She had tried others but this lot always produced the goods. They were extremely efficient, something she demanded and were ultra-discrete, something she needed. , They did not know her real name or what she did so there was little risk in letting them know her hotel and room number; in any case, Michaela was used to assessing risk and living with it, that's what top bankers do. She had carefully briefed Naomi on what she wanted and had explained that she could not specify a time that she would arrive back at her hotel. She had agreed that she would pay an hourly rate and that the clock should start ticking at seven, the earliest she felt she would be able to get away from the interview. "I may not be there until eleven, though," she explained. "That's no problem we can be on call all night if you wish, but of course we will have to charge from seven." "Yes I appreciate that, just make sure that whatever time I get there, everything is ready." "Of course Ms Mason, I will handle it personally." "Thanks Naomi," Michaela had said from the first class lounge at Heathrow as she waited for her BA flight to New York two days ago. She had known from experience that the interview and the offer of the job she had always wanted would turn her on. She knew that when she walked out of the Big G Head Office she would be sexually aroused and she was acutely aware that by the time, whatever time that was, she got back to The Pierre she would be in dire need of sex. It was always like that after a big meeting and that's why she made prior arrangements. She was scared that if she didn't do that, the need to be fucked would be so strong that she might just go to a bar and get herself picked up; she had done that before, but not since she had started buying it: so much tidier, cleaner and safer this way! The doormen and bellboys mumbled their hellos as she glided through the white and cream lobby of what many consider to be New York's finest hotel. Goddards certainly did and, although it was way uptown from the offices, they maintained two suites there. Michaela had guessed the job was hers when she had checked in and had been shown to the premier suite. Just in case, she had checked to see if any other Big G executives were staying. They weren't, so that is when she was sure the MD position was hers. Being in that suite, which was usually used by only the top level of management, had a similar effect on her to winning a negotiation. As a result, she was only in the sumptuous, elegance of The Pierre a few moments before she was lying in the middle of the king sized bed, her designer jeans round her ankles her hands inside her Agent Provocateur panties finger fucking herself to a very welcome and much needed climax. She had felt like a dog on heat all the way across the Atlantic and at the subsequent meeting. In fact she had felt like that since the phone call to the agency in the first class lounge, yes, she had felt like that since she had placed her order for tonight. This evening, though, when she entered the large suite she knew she would not be masturbating. She knew everything would be ready for her. She knew that because she had called Naomi on the way uptown. "Everything is set ma'am, just as you specified, you'll be there in ten minutes then?" "Yes, we're just passing the Hilton on 6th." Her entrance was as good as silent. The plastic card made no sound, the heavy door effortlessly opened. She put her Italian leather briefcase that she'd bought on a recent weekend in Florence, on the credenza in the hallway and walked across the thick pile, pale cream carpet to the bar in the living room. She poured herself a generous vodka, added a little water and some ice and lemon. She sipped it, waiting a moment or two as she looked at the closed bedroom door. Undoing the buttons on the jacket of her power suit, she glanced into one of the numerous, gilt framed mirrors. Her tits looked good in the tight, black lace and silk bra. Quite big varying between a C and D they were nicely shaped, full, firm and reasonably upright for her age and their size and were capped by big nipples that were dark, almost brown. Her breasts were aching and her nipples felt ready to explode. Momentarily thanking her lucky stars that she had lined something up, Michaela knew that she wanted sex badly and that she needed to be fucked hard and fast and probably several times. She slid her pencil skirt off, leaving the expensive garment crumpled on the floor and stood looking at her reflection in the mirror. The lacy shorts fitted her very snugly, emphasizing her quite prominent and, if left unattended, rather hairy pubic mound. Recently, Michaela had not left it unattended and had taken to keeping it billiard ball smooth by regular shaving. She was aching to go into the bedroom, but she resisted that and sort of tested her resolve by wandering round the living room in her AP 'intimate apparel.' She propped her bum against the back of a sofa, her legs stretched out before her, her ankles crossed as she sipped the almost neat vodka. She looked good and felt good. She put the glass down and undid her bra, dropping it casually onto the floor near to the eight hundred pound suit. Idly stroking her very erect, hard nipples with the side of the glass she hoped that Naomi hadn't screwed up and that all the arrangements had, as they usually did gone to plan. She took a deep breath and then walked towards the bedroom door clad in just the black, lacy boyshorts and her black, lacy-topped holdups. Stopping by the door, she took her panties off and went to grab the handle, but stopped. "Fuck," she said to herself, realising that what she wanted was in the bathroom. Then she remembered that she could get to it through the kitchen. The baby oil felt wonderful on her pubic mound as she massaged it into that tender area. It felt so good she could not resist pouring some onto her tits and rubbing it into them. The combination of rubbing the oil into her mound and breasts had the inevitable affect and Michaela was badly tempted to masturbate. "What a fucking waste," she said to herself as she strode purposefully across the lounge, turned the bedroom door handle and walked in. His arse looked gorgeous, full, rounded, firm and tight. His back looked gorgeous, wide yet tapered, muscular yet lithe. His legs looked gorgeous, long, slender and fit. His skin looked gorgeous, smooth, silky, tight and stretched. Michaela didn't say anything as she approached the huge bed. There was no need, the man was fully briefed. He knew what was expected from him; after all, he was a true professional, an experienced gigolo, one of the agency's top, gay studs. She climbed onto the bed clad just in her lacy, holdup stockings, nothing else. She knelt beside the big, guy. He was six feet four and weighed just on two hundred pounds, or so his agency portfolio had stated. In close up his body was every bit as good as Naomi had claimed. His muscles were well defined but lithe not bulky like a body builder or a weights guy. She ran her eyes admiringly up and down his back noting his broad shoulders, narrow waist and rounded full bum. He was, she thought, truly gorgeous and she hadn't even seen his front yet. She trailed her beautifully manicured, white painted, square cut fingernails down his back enjoying the slight shudder as they reached the base of his spine. She stopped there and ran them across each cheek flattening her palm on his cool, smooth skin. Each buttock jerked as she cupped it. That and his arse felt fabulous. She put her fingernails back on his spine, between his shoulder blades. She dug them in a bit, not too far, but enough so he would feel it. She scratched him. Then slowly, excruciatingly slowly, she drew them downwards watching fascinated as they marked his skin: not enough to draw blood, but certainly sufficient for it to hurt him and without doubt enough to leave a mark that would be with him after they had finished. In addition to her fetish for buying sex, Michaela also liked rough sex. She liked sex with pain, sex where people get hurt, sex where her partner gets hurt and sex where she gets hurt. Yes, she liked receiving as well as giving the mixing of pain with sexual pleasure. Her pulse started to race when she saw the strong guy's huge body jump as the pain hit him, she liked that. She pressed her stockinged leg against his hip; he was firm, solid, hard. A great body she thought, as she raked her fingernails down his spine leaving four trails of scratch marks that nearly punctured, and certainly deeply grazed his flesh. Her fingernails reached the bottom of his spine, they arrived at his buttocks, they came to rest on his arse, his gorgeous arse. She used two hands here, both sets of fingers, all ten nails. Mmmmm, she breathed as she dug them, deep and hard into both of the full, rounded cheeks. She loved the way that when she first touched the two symmetrical orbs of flesh they were soft, but then, as the pain got to him, they hardened, until now they were like two rocks. But Michaela was not all about pain. Her sex was not just hurting and being hurt. No it was more than that, much, much more; more complex, more involved, more delicate, more subtle and far more sophisticated. Just as suddenly as she had dug her nails into the soft, pliant flesh of the male hooker's arse, so she stopped. Just as quickly as she had ravaged those cheeks with her hard nails, so she caressed them with her soft fingertips. Just as she had looked on seeing his buttocks jerk and contract, so now she bent forward. Just as she had been detached from him, they had not spoken or seen each other's faces yet, so she now became extremely intimate. She laid her face on one of his cheeks. She kissed it; she ran her lips and tongue over the hardening and softening flesh as, at the same time, she rested her fingertips right on the tight crease. God he did have such taught buttocks, she thought 'Strong enough to crack a walnut' she smiled. Simultaneously, she licked the mound and pushed gently with her fingers. His bum relaxed, the flesh went soft, the crease opened, the cheeks parted. Her finger slid inside the deep crevice. She ran them up and down the valley, crossing and recrossing the entrance to his anus. Crossing and recrossing, yes, but each time going a shorter distance away from it. Each time spending a tad more time on the puckered skin, each time applying an increasing pressure, each time sending strong hints to him as to what was soon to come. At last, she stopped crossing and recrossing, for she had made her point, she had sent the invitation, she had made her needs obvious, she had let him know very clearly what she wanted. Yes, her actions had told him in the most sublime way that she was going to finger fuck his arse. Black Sex in New York Michaela watched fascinated as slowly he opened his legs. As clearly as he was accepting her suggestion, he was also issuing his own invitation. He was obviously fit and supple, for he spread his shapely, lithe, muscular legs such a distance apart that he amazed Michaela that legs could go that far. She was as equally amazed, though, at how wide and deep the crease between his cheeks became, almost enough, she smiled, for her whole hand, let alone her finger. However, it was not her finger nor her hand that first went there. No, it was neither of those. Instead, she simply could not resist again leaning forward, once more resting her cheek on his smooth, surprisingly cool skin, and for a second time kissing and licking his gorgeous cheeks. She knew full well that he would be supremely clean everywhere, that went without saying with the hookers from this agency. This time, though, her lips and tongue had a different destination. She moved so that she was kneeling between, instead of beside, his legs, so that her face was pointing up his body, so that her hands could rest and hold each cheek and so that the crease was vertical rather than horizontal to her mouth. She moved to that position for that enabled her to grip his cheeks, pull them even further apart, plunge her mouth between them and push her tongue right onto the serrated entrance to his arsehole. The deep grunt from his throat and the massive jerk of his body thrilled her as she probed the straightened tip of her tongue inside him. Pushing that in as far as the resistance would allow, gripping his cheeks and pressing her nails harshly into the flesh and letting her saliva flow freely, she prepared him, she readied him, she got him ready for her next raid on his most private place. He was now almost continuously grunting, moaning, sighing and writhing his body around, but still, as instructed, saying nothing. She rubbed her forefinger into her deep cleavage coating it with the oil she'd applied to herself earlier. She put that finger between his cheeks. She pressed the tip against his anal hole. She waited a moment, teasing him. She pressed harder. She stopped. He let out a deep moan; He raised himself from the bed, thrusting his arse towards her, as if imploring her, asking her, begging really. She took pity on him, she put him out of his misery and herself come to that. It went in easier than she had expected, perhaps due to frequent use, she smiled. It was in up to her first knuckle so easily and quickly. More grunts, moans and sighs, but commendably, she thought, no words. The whole middle part of his body was off the bed, he was almost kneeling now. Michaela saw the huge sac of his balls and her heart pounded as her other hand cupped them. God did that feel good to her. She rolled them in the palm of her hand only just able to get the entire scrotum into it. He bucked more and he moaned and grunted more. Then she went for broke, the final assault, the ultimate penetration. Naked apart from her stockings, her tits and pussy oiled up, kneeling between his legs, the middle of his body off the bed Michaela shoved her finger right up to its hilt into the young, gay hooker's arse. And like that, she finger fucked him until his cock gushed with spurt after spurt of white, creamy cum. Michaela had an almost endless series of meetings the next day so she was pleased that she had dismissed the male hooker early. Her first day as the Global MD of Acquisitions and Mergers started with a working breakfast at the bank's Head Office on Broad Street near to the New York Stock Exchange. She met the twenty or so senior trading managers who had to start work by seven or so as the Stock Exchange opened, then had meetings with her top managers. This was followed by a reception by the Board of Directors who were drawn from the luminaries of American industry and then lunch at Sardis on West forty fourth street, her favourite in the city. Her afternoon was taken up with finalising her new contract that included: a one point five million pound basic salary, a series of bonuses based upon a combination of the value of the deals she did and the profits she generated that should easily bring her at least another million. There were the two cars, one in London where she was based and the other in New York, the access to chauffer driven cars in both cities whenever she wanted them, the use of the private plane when in the US, an apartment in New York, massive contributions to her pension plan and share options that were twice as much as she had estimated. Reading through it and agreeing a few amendments was enough to almost make her cum. Whilst she had no negotiations that day the sheer power of the men she mingled with and chatted to all day was enough to make her cum and she had change her panties twice during the day. It wasn't just the buzz of her contract and package and the seniority of the men she mingled with that kept her in an aroused state all day it was also the anticipation what lie ahead in the evening. She was worried that she would be forced to go to dinner with one of the directors especially the Chairman of Southern Utilities who had made it quite obvious what he would like. Luckily she was able to escape and was being whizzed up town to the Pierre at just after seven, an early day for her. "Hi it's Carl from the agency," the rich, velvety voice oozed into Michaela's ear as she grabbed the phone in her suite. "Is that Michaela?" "Yes, yes it is." "How are you ma'am?" "I'm fine thanks. Can you wait a few minutes?" "Sure of course I can." "Look stay right where you are and I'll either meet you there, you're by the house phones right? Or if I haven't inside ten minutes call me again. OK?" "Ok, sure that'll be just fine." Although the agency that Michaela used in New York was ultra-dependable she still liked to check out the goods before final purchase. So she'd developed this way that in a busy hotel, as the Plaza certainly was, she'd get her escort to wait downstairs while she took a surreptitious peek at him. She whizzed down the twenty five floors in the newly installed high speed elevators that had been put in for the users of occupiers of suites and wandered past the showcases of Cartier watches and Bulgari jewellery. Closing in on the area behind reception where the house phones were located she saw what she guessed was her man for the night. He fitted the agencies description and the e-mailed photo perfectly. Tall, around 6 4, muscular but lean and with a taught build, about 190 pounds. Smartly dressed in a black suit and gleaming open necked white shirt he looked to Michaela not only to be precisely what she'd ordered, but also to be almost perfect. Ruggedly handsome with sparkling eyes, a square chin and the most lustrous, black skin she'd ever seen on a man. Michaela had never been with a black guy. Not through any prejudice or anything for she'd fucked a couple of Arabs and had been with two Pakistanis. No it was just lack of opportunity. After all in the rarified air of the top of organisations in banking life not too many blacks are around are they? It had been a friend in London who'd said to her about black men being all they're rumoured to be. She had divorced her husband and had lived in Jamaica for a year or so where she'd been with several black guys each of whom did have the size of dick for which they are famed. "It's hard to believe Michaela but there really is something awesome about being stretched to the limit by one of them" her friend had explained going on to add. "And holding a cock that you can't get your lips round is truly amazing." "Oh you met someone from on the net then I thought you always said you wouldn't?" "No not from on there, it was when I was in Jamaica. But it's not just the sheer size, although looking at, say, ten inches of thick, hard, black cock and imagining it up you is an incredible feeling, that's so amazing about sex with black guys. They're also considerate, imaginative, adventurous and by God can they cum and cum and again. But mostly I guess it's also how they make it fun" she had told Michy just before Michaela had left for this trip to New York. On the first class British Airways flight on the Sunday that Michaela flew over she found her mind frequently slipping away from the briefing documents about the two electronic businesses that were in the middle of a bitterly fought takeover. Instead of reading about their P/E ratios, ROCE, EBITDA and all the other financial criteria she found her mind thinking, ten inches long, eight inches girth. Even thinking about making the booking excited her. "Oh hi Michaela, yes this is Marie. How can we help you today?" "I'd like to schedule a booking for Tuesday evening if I can?" Michaela had learned to plan ahead for the classy guys on this agency's books were in high demand. "Of course what did you have in mind?" "Er well do you have any black guys at all?" "Of course how many would you like?" Marie joked. "Just the one please," Michaela replied a little coldly not taking easily to making the selection of a sexual partner a light-hearted matter. "I see from the records Michaela that you've never booked a black guy from us before." "Er no, no I haven't, in fact I've never been with one." "I see may I ask if there's any special reason you now wish for one and whether you're looking for anything particular from him." Even Michaela with all her balls and confidence found it difficult to say that she just wanted a great big cock. This wasn't though a new situation for the agency. "We've just started a new feature Michaela I don't know whether you're aware of it?" "Oh what's that"? "We now include the size of their penises both flaccid and erect on their details." The newly installed high speed elevators for the exclusive use of the mid-level suite occupants were not all they were supposed to be for it seemed to take Michaela an age to get back. She was hardly inside the door when the phone was ringing. She gave him the suite number and waited nervously for his arrival. "What can I get you to drink?" she asked after they'd made their introductions. "May I ask what you're drinking Michaela?" Carl asked very politely. "Probably vodka." "Then that'll be perfect for me too." Sitting in the enormous luxury of the suite chatting about a wide range of topics the situation, as it usually did, seemed unreal and so incongruous to Michaela. It hardly seemed possible that this was purely a sexual encounter for as always they danced around that subject building the pretence that it was more than that. More than Michaela just wanting to get her rocks off. More than Carl being a male hooker. And more than the fact that Michaela had ordered a 'six inch soft, nine inch erect' black man to fuck her tonight. Sitting in her smart, white trouser suit her long slim legs crossed as they chatted about the relationship between Barack Obama and David Cameron, Michaela's mind kept focusing on what lie between Carl's legs. "Could it really be almost a foot long? Could she really take the nearly eight inches of its girth? How much of it would actually go up her for her insides surely weren't a foot deep?" "Would you like another or..............?" Michaela asked letting the sentence hang unfinished. Carl stood up and walked over to her. He slid his arm around her waist and put his face close to hers as he replied softly with an appealingly mischievous glint in his eyes he said softly. "How about another and an or..............?" as his mouth closed over hers. Most escorts waited for the client's permission to kiss. It was an odd etiquette and some escorts didn't like to do it at all. As equally, Michaela assumed, some clients didn't like the added intimacy and tenderness brought about by kissing preferring merely straightforward sex. Not Michaela though. Although she was a hard-nosed businesswoman with a very pragmatic attitude towards relationships she still liked her time with her escorts to be as special as possible. It was as though they became an oasis of loving, erotic tenderness in her arid desert of loveless meanderings through life. During the two or three hours she was with a man he became the most important thing in her life and it was almost as if they were real partners. As Carl's lips pressed against hers and as his arm slid round her waist so Michaela responded. Her mouth opened to his probing, her tongue pushed back against his and her arms went round his neck. They kissed for some time. They weighed each other up, probed and researched each other's mouth, tested out each other's lips and teeth and gums. He was a great kisser. He knew it and prided himself on it and Michaela rapidly learned it. She'd never been kissed as well before. Alternating between almost filling her mouth with his tongue and licking and kissing her lips and cheeks he pulled her body hard against his as he varied the intensity. One moment he was grinding and squirming their lips together the next he was licking along her lower gum so gently and softly. And then he'd start to pump his tongue in and out of her mouth. He clearly had a long tongue and he bent it so that it was more like a tube. He then used that tube to simulate fucking her mouth. Having a surrogate cock coming from his mouth into hers created an almost surreal experience for Michaela, as Carl had known it would from previous experience. She just couldn't understand the effect it had on her. It was as if she was sucking his cock in some ways but in others, as her eyes were closed it, was more as if her mind was imagining that she was really being fucked. He'd slither the tube of his tongue across hers, running it along the roof of her mouth until the tip was right at the back of her mouth. After a brief moment when he just left it there he'd then start thrusting in and out of her opening and closing the tube as he did. Michaela found herself responding to this. She found this amazing 'tonguefest' becoming the entire focus of their lovemaking. Nothing else seemed to matter as Carl fucked her mouth so acutely with his tongue. She sucked on it, she held it between her lips and then bit gently on it between her teeth. She pushed the point of her tongue into the orifice created by Carl curling his and then started pushing in and out of that. Her mind was reeling a little from this odd and unique oral sex. She felt as though she was being fucked but at the same time she felt as though she was also fucking him and that she couldn't get her mind round. When Carl had first kissed Michaela she'd been leaning against the wall so when she was in his arms she was slightly side onto him. Her leg that was nearest to him was in front of her other one. This meant that as they kissed the base of Carl's stomach was pressed firmly against the curve of her tight bum. And of course as he'd fucked her mouth with his tongue so he'd thrust his stomach against that lovely round mound. It was the combination of the amazing things he did with his tongue and mouth and the more obvious, but nevertheless exciting, movements of his loins that had given Michaela this new experience. "Phew," she muttered looking right into his eyes when they broke for breath. He smiled his eyes sparkling as he whispered, "I assume it's Ok to kiss." Michaela laughed back. "That's what that was was it? A kiss." For a moment she saw his eyes flicker with doubt as he struggled with the British sense of irony in the question. "It was Ok though wasn't it Michaela?" "Yes of course silly it's just that I've never been kissed like that before." "Not many women have it's a particularly Harlem thing." They were still standing together with Michaela pressed into the corner between the bar and the wall her arms around his neck his round her waist. His body felt good against hers. It was firm and muscular where it should be and soft and yielding where appropriate. He was much taller than her five feet eight inches and her one hundred and forty pound body seemed miniscule against his huge frame. Michaela could feel his breath on her cheek and she could smell his aftershave. His arms around her felt strong and reassuring. Where her shoulder and arm were squashed against his broad chest she could feel his taughtness and strength and where his stomach was pressed against her bottom she could feel his bulge. His erection, if he had one, had clearly not straightened out and may, she thought, have been caught up in his boxers and the tail of his shirt. They stayed like that for a few moment merely staring into each other's eyes as Michaela took in the amazing kiss they'd just had. "You are very beautiful Michaela" Carl whispered as he softly kissed her lips. "Or may I call you Michy?" "And you are very handsome Carl," she replied running her fingers through his short crinkly hair. "You can call me whatever you wish." His hand slid from around her waist and came up her front to the top button of her white trouser suit. Holding the button he looked right into her eyes. She could see a twinkling in them as he whispered. "Is this Ok Michy?" She smiled back. "Please be my guest." Pressed close together they both looked down as Carl slowly, one by one, undid the four buttons of the white, Armani, pure silk jacket. He didn't pull it apart at first but merely left it in place as they continued looking into each other's eyes. Somehow this delay made the undressing of her seem so much more exciting. Michaela was now totally into the role of a lover and being a client of Carl was the furthest thing from her mind. She took the lapel of the jacket in her hand and pulling gently at it said. "Is this what you want Carl? Are these what you want?" As she muttered that so she pulled the coat slowly open. "Yes" he murmured, quite thickly, Michaela thought. "Yes Michaela, yes they are what I want." "Mmmmmmmmmmmm that's exactly what I want and exactly as I imagined them Michaela," he said one hand reaching up and cupping her left breast. "You have lovely breasts." They kissed again as his fingers flittered over the bare skin above the bra before slowly sliding inside it. A new lover's first touch of her bare breasts was always a very special time for Michaela for she seemed to gain so much pleasure from it. Her arms went more firmly around his neck as she ground her lips against his. He once again made that shape with his tongue and as he eased both of her tits out from her bra and pinched her nipples so once more he simulated the fucking movement with his mouth and tongue and the thrusting of his bulge on the cheek of her bottom. As they kissed Carl slowly slipped the jacket from her. As they kissed deeper and deeper so Michaela felt his fingers undoing the clasp of her bra. She took her arms from around his shoulders so he could remove it completely. "You look fantastic Michy" Carl breathed his hand running across her breasts. She reached up and with fumbling fingers managed to struggle the buttons on his white shirt undone. Pushing that open she gazed at the lightly, haired black skin of his muscular chest. She ran her hands over it feeling little shudders run through her as her fingertips reacted to the magical feelings. "And so do you Carl, and so do you." His shirt fell to the floor to join her Armani jacket and bra. To an onlooker the vision created by them would have been so erotic. His broad, black chest against the whiteness of her back and pink tipped breasts. His black trousers and her very white tight pants contrasted so keenly. He had one black leg between her white legs. Hers were squeezing his. His was pushing upwards. His thigh was between hers. The top of his thigh was pressing against her. She was pressing down on the muscular leg covered by the thin material. His leg was arousing the lips of her pussy and were stimulating her clitoris. Their kissing was deeper and more energetic as he slid his thigh muscle in and out of her legs. It was just as though she was being fucked again. Black Sex in New York "Oh shit Carl, oh my God," she moaned as again and again he ran his strong muscle right along the soaked lips of her pussy under the crotch of her white Armani trousers. "Do you want to cum?" He whispered. "Do you want me to make you cum with my leg Michaela? Make you cum with that as I nearly did with my tongue. Do you"? "Yes Carl, yes. Make me cum, make me cum," she whined hating herself for being so weak-willed but needing and wanting the sexual relief so badly. Carl pressed more firmly as Michaela opened her leg a little more to give him easier access to her most sensitive of places. The pressure and the energy that came from his long, strong thigh muscle covered only by the thin material felt so good to Michaela. Any minor inhibitions she may have had at this rather unorthodox lovemaking quickly vanished as she felt the muscles, tendons and leaders in his leg rubbing against her pussy. She wrapped her legs tightly around his and met him thrust with thrust and surge with surge. "Oh God," she cried out as he pushed her forward. He kept pushing until her chest was flattened on the bar. The cold of the marble sent a shock through her as her breasts were completely squashed. Her bum was in the air and her legs were locked around his as both of them pumped away. Carl's hand was, rather roughly, holding the back of Michaela's neck keeping her in place as they performed this amazing non penetrative sex. But now of course he was almost completely behind her his thigh pressed deeply between hers, hers gripping him tightly. He reached down and fiddled with his pants and shirt so that his now half erect cock reared up his stomach. He was very aware what most of these white chicks wanted and what they were interested in from black guys like him. After all he'd made a very lucrative career through having a big dick and knowing how to make best use of it. Pressing himself forward a little more Michaela at first felt his leg go further between hers and that sent even more tremors through her. But then he pressed his belly forward so that his still softish length nestled along the slightly opened cheeks of her bum outside the thin, white, tightly stretched material and up further and further to nearly her waist. "Jesus Chris," she moaned as her body reacted to the slight implications of forceful sex of his hand holding the back of her neck causing her breasts to be flattened on the marble. "Oh fucking hell," she went on at the twin sensations of his leg between hers and his erection along her bottom. He leaned forward and kissed her as best he could with her laid out and helpless like that. His hand reached round her and found her clitoris inside the silk trousers. Nice as it usually is to have a man roll that around Michaela needed no more stimulation to that Carl was already providing. "Just make me cum Carl, just make me cum now please, please," she whined not really liking to be quite so subservient for she was a little bit of a dominator usually. As he thrust harder so she squeezed just that little bit more to do the trick. And like that bent over the bar, her breasts flattened, her trousers still on, her thighs clamped round his leg Michaela had her first orgasm with a black guy and boy was it great. Slowly they extricated themselves from the rather complicated embrace. "OK Michaela?" "Mmmm, very nice, not a bad start. Like a drink?" Michaela poured them both a glass of white wine and they sat down on a sofa with some distance between them. Although she was naked above the waist, as indeed Carl was as well, she didn't look or act at all self-consciously. She was comfortable with her body. It was rounded with muscles that were well formed from the regular work outs she did in the executive gyms the bank provided in all their locations. But she was by no means muscular and she had the necessary curves for her figure to be feminine and sufficiently rounded so that her bum and hips always looked good in tight clothing. "How long you been doing this?" she asked turning and looking along the sofa at him. "Two and a bit years now, I love it." Michaela smiled. "Must be some men's dream job really I suppose." "Yes I suppose it can be but it does have its downsides you know." "Really?" Michaela asked raising her eyebrows as she watched his eyes roam over her breasts. "Yes, you have to remember Michaela that few clients are like you?" "How d'ya mean?" "Well you're young, beautiful and with a figure to die for to start with," he replied his eyes once more roaming over her body. As they focused on her breasts she could feel herself getting aroused again and she knew for sure that her nipples would be hardening under his gaze. "What most are old, fat and ugly are they?" she smiled? "Usually at least one if not two of those yes" Carl beamed back his whole face lighting up when he smiled. He really was a handsome bastard she thought. Letting her gaze alternate from his deep brown eyes to his broad, muscular chest and, quite pointedly she knew, down to the massive bulge in his trousers Michaela said across the rim of the glass from which she'd just sipped some wine. "Mmmmmm what a waste Carl, what a waste." Both naked above the waist they sat there staring at each other for a moment or two. Michaela ran her tongue around the rim of her glass as Carl's gaze moved from her eyes to her breasts and back again. Quite softly with her eyes lowered, just as Princess Di used to do, Michaela said. "Well I think it's a waste, but I don't know for sure do I?" He smiled. "Well you've had a starter and you seemed to like that." "Oh yes that was fine but I haven't, as they say, have I Carl, yet seen what I'm buying have I?" Michaela muttered unusually getting her words a little mixed up. She saw a frown knit across his brow as he tried to work out what she meant from the jumbled double negatives. As it registered, though, the puzzled look was replaced by that broad, dazzling smile that Michaela so liked. "Oh yes I see what you mean," he said leaning forward and resting his hand on her wrist as he stared into her eyes. "I guess you haven't yet inspected the goods though you did feel them didn't you?" The simple exchange was strangely very erotic. To be sitting topless with a man she was paying for, after he'd just given her a splendid climax with his leg, talking about his body in general and his manhood in particular, in quite matter of fact terms seemed odd but hugely exciting, They both knew full well that she could just as easily tell him to strip off and by the terms of their agreement he would have complied. But to be dancing around the subject as she in pretence tried to cajole him into it was far more part of the scenario she preferred with her escorts. "Mmmmm, yes I did, but feel isn't all you know?" she smiled. "I need to use my other senses as well." "And they are what, sight?" Carl said standing up. "Yes of course," Michaela breathed as her eyes locked onto the awesome bulge in the front of his thin, loose trousers. "And I assume touch" he went on moving closer to her and taking her hand in his." Her heart was pounding as she watched him moving her hand so that it hovered over the bulge. "Sight" he whispered, then paused as slowly he pressed her hand against the bulge adding as she felt him. "And touch." He wasn't erect was the first message that was transmitted from her fingers to her brain. He stood before her looking down at her beautifully manicured, white varnished fingernails as they slowly investigated the mass of his manhood and balls all bundled up inside his boxers. Almost panting Michaela ran her fingers along its length and around its girth inside the thin material. "My God," she thought. "He's huge and not even erect yet." They were like that for a few of moments. The sheer brazen confidence he had impressed and excited Michaela. The fact that he could stand next to her and let her fondle his most male place without a shadow of nerves and, more amazingly, without getting fully hard excited and surprised her. Normally she was so in control of her lovemaking, but not with this man she was learning. "Well?" she heard him ask. "Well what?" she replied looking up her fingers lightly wrapped around him. "To your liking ma'am?" She smiled up at him. "Yes getting that way." "Then perhaps madam should fully unwrap the goods and try her other sense." "What, what do you mean?" "Well there's one left isn't there? Taste." That made Michaela smile. "Mmmmm what a good idea." "I'm pleased you like it Michaela" Carl said fairly thickly. "Why not unwrap the goods?" With one hand pressing lightly against the mass of flesh Michaela lifted her other hand and found the buckle of his belt. As she undid that so Carl's hands rested on her blonds, short hair and he ran his fingers through it. Occasionally glancing up and catching his eye and exchanging small grins she undid the belt and the button at the top of his fly. Her hands were actually shaking as she went to grip the zip. She found it difficult to hold at first but then managed it and slowly she slid it down. She looked up at him as between them they pushed his trousers down and off. "Allow me" Carl said smiling and moving away a bit as he quickly pulled his black socks off. "Such an embarrassing sight I always think don't you, a nearly naked man with his socks on? Like a third rate porn movie." As Michaela smiled at his apt remark Carl returned to the position just in front of her. Now just in his white boxers that she noted were impressively silk, she ran both of her hands across him loving the feel of his genitalia beneath the thin material that was now all that was separating her hands from him. She couldn't though understand that despite all of this he was still by no means fully hard. 'But never mind' she thought he still felt lovely and big. Carl's hands were now gripping her head more tightly. They were holding it round the back. They were pulling on it, suggestively, invitingly, encouragingly. It seemed the most perfect thing to do. At that moment it struck Michaela as being the most appropriate gesture she could make, the most desirable and exciting action she could take. Letting her head respond to the pressure her face moved forward. Slowly but purposefully Carl's hands encouraged her nearer and nearer to him. Nearer to the silk of his boxers, nearer to his midriff and nearer and nearer to his huge, still nearly flaccid cock. And then she was there. Then her head was at its destination. Yes, then Michaela's face was pressing against the semi-hardness of Carl's manhood. She squirmed her cheek against it revelling in the warmth, energy and vitality it projected through the lustrous material. It felt glorious to her and wonderful to him. But she wanted more, needed more had to have more. She'd come this far and now she had to finish this off. Michaela slid her hands around Carl's trim, firm waist and into the elastic of his boxers as his hands gripped her head quite strongly. She pulled downwards as he eased himself back a fraction. The material just seemed to whoosh down his hips, down his groins, down his loins and down his taught, flat belly. And then amazingly, wondrously and so magnificently there he was in all his glorious, black nakedness just inches from her face. She could almost feel the heat that the awesomely large cock was generating. "Oh my God" she sobbed taking the semi-hard flesh in her hands. It felt incredible and looked wonderful as she rubbed her cheek against its length and girth. Although Michaela was extremely aroused her analytical banker's mind couldn't shut off completely. She could see that even in this state it must have been over six inches long and about six inches round and having read somewhere about the average rate of growth of erections she realised that when full it would be as the agency had promised over eight inches long and maybe seven inches in diameter. She shuddered at the thought of it penetrating her but despite that she found her lips against it kissing it. "Yes Michaela use the last sense on m," Carl was saying softly. "Taste me Michaela, taste me." "Yes Carl, let me, let me," she stuttered. "Let me taste you." Michaela ran her tongue along it from the slightly hairy base where it emerged from the massive sack containing his balls to its very tip where the uncircumcised skin was still covering the bulbous head. Cupping the sac in her hand and rolling his balls gently together she licked up and down and round and round the now, she noted thankfully, growing cock in her hands. "Mmmmmm, mmmmmmm" she heard Carl sigh. "Oh man that's good so good." And Michaela wanted to be good. She prided herself on giving very good head for, quite frankly, she just loved doing it. As a consequence she felt she was enthusiastic and creative when with the right man with the right sort of equipment. And Carl well qualified on both of those criteria. Still sitting on the sofa clad in her white, silk, Armani trousers with the now fully naked Carl standing between her open legs Michaela stroked and licked, caressed and kissed and rubbed and sucked along every inch of this awesome phallus. And as she did so it grew. It grew in length and girth until she knew it would grow no more for it surely could get no harder than the rigid mass she was now holding. "It's gorgeous" she breathed momentarily looking up and catching his gaze. He smiled and said. "I'm pleased you like it Michaela for it's yours to do with as you wish." Michaela knew in the etiquette of the escort business that the men never asked the women to provide oral as, equally, they always asked before giving it. But Carl was clearly implying that he'd like her to go further if she wanted. She smiled and sat upright pulling him towards her and pressing him between her breasts. "Anything?" she said. "Yes of course anything you desire Michaela." He was actually a little too tall to stand with his cock between her breasts while she sat so Michaela wiggled her way into a kneeling position on the sofa and that was the perfect height. Pushing her full, round boobs together she wrapped them around the rod of black, rigid and, almost, pulsating flesh. "Yes, oh yes" he murmured. "That's good, that's so good." "Then fuck me Carl, fuck my tits, fuck them now," Michaela moaned in a voice that was tight and croaky from sexual expectation and want. He started to slide up and down between them and, astonishingly, on each upward sweep so the tip of it reached past her chin. Putting her tongue out she was able to lick the tip of it as it reared upwards. It was a glorious sensation to have him surging his giant cock in between her tits while at the same time she could lick it. It was made even more dramatically visual for Michaela by the contrast between the white of her skin and breasts and the blackness of his huge cock with its vivid purple head. Without being too demanding, for that's not the role of an escort, Carl placed his hands on the back of Michaela's head and gently pulled that forward. It was an encouraging movement, an inviting gesture, not an order or demand but a request or perhaps a suggestion. It was one that made the bottom of her jaw rest on her chest. One that meant her mouth was in the path of his penis each time it thrust up between her breasts. And one that Michaela knew only too well was asking her to do just one thing. It was the perfect gesture on Carl's part. The most appropriate suggestion and the clearest and most exciting invitation to the white woman. So she let her head be pulled forward, she allowed him to bend her neck so that her mouth pointed towards her breasts and she did that one thing that this gesture asked her to do. She opened her mouth. Yes she opened it as wide as she could. She opened it so that Carl could shove his big, black cock right through her tits and into her mouth. As it surged into her mouth so she heard him grunt and sigh. "Oh baby, that's soooo good." The penetration of her mouth made her gag a little at first but that was rapidly overcome by the elation she felt at having him there. The elation that any orally adventurous woman feels when she starts to suck her lover's cock. And Michaela was orally very adventurous indeed and was loving every moment of sucking her 'lover's gorgeous cock Her hands fell away from her breasts as Carl filled her mouth. The earlier surrogate pussy wasn't needed now was it? Carl didn't need the pressure of two big tits round his massively swollen cock did he? Not when he now had her mouth, lips, tongue and teeth to do that did he? No he didn't need to fuck her between her tits for now he was completely fucking her mouth. He thrust more and more as Michaela seemed to find the space she would never have thought existed inside that cavity. Whether she'd subconsciously learned the art of deep throating or not she didn't know. What she did know, though, was as she looked down so she could see well over half of his thick, sturdy manhood disappearing between her pale lips that were now devoid of the lipstick she'd applied just before this amazing escort arrived. Her hands greedily found the cheeks of his arse. The cheeks that alternated between being soft and so strokeably hard and exciting. Michaela had as long as she could recall loved men's bums. She adored the look and the feel of them. She always had revelled in touching and squeezing and stroking and caressing them and Carl's arse was a magnificent specimen. Her hands roamed unashamedly over both cheeks and then between them as it thrust up shoving his other wondrous appendage deeper and fuller into her over-filled mouth. "Oh my God Michaela, this is amazing," he gasped his hands in her hair now pulling on it a little too firmly so that it hurt her a bit. But that didn't alarm her. No the slight pain seemed a natural accompaniment for what they were doing. His fingers dug into her neck and scalp and pulled even more firmly on her hair as one of her fairly long, white painted fingernails pressed right against his anus. Carl bent forward even more. Michaela was still kneeling but her legs had slid open so she was lower and now he was bent over her head his waist at nearly ninety degrees so that his chest pressed against her scalp. She was still wearing her white Armani trousers as she sucked and slurped at his cock her fingernail still pressing against the entrance to his back passage. Even though she was paying for a man's services she never abused that position. She knew that she could but somehow it made everything more exciting and more like being with a real lover if she didn't. So Michaela didn't do what she wanted to, what she liked doing with men and what her body was, almost demanding her to do. No she didn't shove her finger up his arse but waited for a sign from him. Pressing a little harder and more enquiringly as she felt him bending even further forward and opening his legs wider she waited for a sign, a signal an acceptance. And then it came. Then she got the signal in three ways. First his cock surged even deeper into her throat and to her lips and tongue seemed, if that were possible, even harder. Second he gasped. "Oh God Michaela, yes, yes, yes." And thirdly and so magically to her she felt him push back with his hips indicating so clearly what he wanted her to do. It was like the other night with the gay hooker all over again. With no further delay she pushed. Not too hard or too quickly. Just firmly and insistently feeling the initial resistance and then, accompanied by a deep grunt from, Carl, the loosening of the muscle. Her slim finger slid easily inside him. Not too far just about half way between her first and second knuckle. She simply held it there the tip of her finger touching that interesting bulge that lies inside there and provides the sensation that makes anal penetration so exciting for most men.