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The Click

By: bygeorge30



The truth, when it finally became clear to her, came not with a lightning bolt of clarity, but rather with the dull thud of something you knew on the edges of your mind, but couldn't quite grasp, until the sheer weight of it came crashing down on you. No, there could be no doubt about it. She was bored. Bored with her job, bored with her condo, bored with her friends, bored with her life. Especially her sex life. Not that her lover Colin wasn't good, or nice, or kind. He was all of that. But he was too predictable, too safe, too bland. His enthusiasm was unencumbered by any spark of imagination. She had no doubt that, if asked, he would try to be spontaneous. Hell, he'd plan being spontaneous for days, until the very word would whither in embarrassment.

Maybe it was her. Maybe it was her decisions that lead to this mess. She examined herself for any sign that could appear in a mirror. She stood five foot four inches, 120 pounds. Maybe a little over weight, but still trim. Her once blonde hair now was trending toward brown. Perhaps some high lights? She sighed. "Sure," she thought, "That will fix everything. She stood there and thought. But no other great insights came to her. She just saw a tired, thirty-four year old woman looking back at her, eyes more sad than tired. She finished her drink, turned out the lights and tried to sleep. But sleep was slow in coming that night, crowded out by the nagging feeling of emptiness.

She dressed for the day before the sun was fully up. Grey flannel business suit. White silk blouse. Red paisley scarf, knotted at the throat. Black pumps. Very professional, very reserved. She grabbed her briefcase, alligator, and headed for the office. By two o'clock, she was out the door and hurrying to her meeting. Being prompt was no mere courtesy in her office, it was expected. She crossed the plaza, moving toward the ultra-modern building complex. The sun glinted off the remaining blonde highlight, treating them favorably. She rehearsed her presentation, and possible objections. Her concentration was nearly complete. 

She never saw the man she passed. But there was no reason that she should. He was unremarkable to look at. Not bad, mind you, six feet tall, medium build. Dark hair that was now showing the first changes toward the grey that would come soon. His eyes, though, told a different story. The dark blue eyes held her with a combination of unusual concentration, and a sense of a mystery solved, as though some lost missing piece of a puzzle finally had been found. He turned, and followed her. While he noticed her strong stride, and the body language that suggested someone of determination, these were of secondary importance to him. He saw, or felt, The Click. There was no mistaking it, although he was never sure why it chose him, or when it would reappear. It had been nearly a year since it had last visited him, and he wasn't sure if it had left him for good. Sometimes, he wished it would. But it was here now, and there was no mistaking it. She just looked brighter than the people around her. It was like she had here own personal spot light. He could have picked her out of a crowd ten times out of ten. Indeed, he just did.

She went into the building, found the floor she was looking for, and went up in the elevator. He noted where she went, and then made his own preparations. It didn't take long. 

A long, exhausting hour later she came back down, and left the elevator. She looked up from her thoughts, and started toward the front doors. He stepped up behind her, and took her elbow, firmly. "Security" he said, and pushed her toward the stairs. She tried to question him, but he was behind her, and he cut off her questions with a curt "Please hurry, Ma'm." Once on the stairs, she tried again to turn around, but felt something hard jammed into her ribs. "Move." was all he said. He opened the door to the next floor, and pushed her into the hallway. About halfway down the hall, he spun her towards the wall. She was utterly confused. What was he going to do here? This was a public area, after all.

He pushed her shoulders down and hit the back of her knee with his. She went to her knees in a hurry. He stepped in front of her, his cock already out. "Make me wet" he demanded. She started to object, but her words were blocked by him entering her mouth, and then her throat. He grabbed her by the hair, and forced himself deep into her, and her face met the fabric

of his trousers. A blush began to rise in her neck, and then crept up her neck into her face, leaving it red and blotchy. "My God," she thought in a panic. "Anyone could walk by. Kids could be here." Her sense of shame was compounded by the slight, but undeniable sense of excitement. She was horrified that she might find some pleasure in this, but it was there just the same.

He abruptly pulled out of her, and spun her around to face the wall. He pushed her forward until she was on her hands and knees. He pulled her skirt up over her hips, and ripped the pantyhose and panties from her in two sharp jerks. She was now completely exposed to his view, and feeling more embarrassed than ever. He knelt behind her, nudging her knees apart with his own. He took a moment to savor the sight. Trim pale white legs, firm with muscle, ending in a remarkably fuckable ass. The light brown hair showed him that she didn't shave, but he never thought she would. His hands traced up the inside of her thighs in a possessory stroke. He lined up his cock with her dampening slit, and took her in two long strokes. Even though she knew what he was planning, the shock of the invasion still caused her to take a sharp, short breath. She felt filled, completely, and utterly. She had had sex just last week, but that did nothing to prepare her for this. Whether in was the suddenness of the taking, or the feeling of public exposure, the breaking of all the rules, or a combination of all of them, the intensity of the moment was overwhelming. He held her by her hips, and sought his own pleasure. She was on her own. 

He reached under her blouse, and pushed her bra up. He grasped her breasts in his hands, weighing them, and delighting in their shape. His thumb and forefinger pulled and twisted her nipples, sometimes gently, sometimes hard enough to cause her to cry out. His hands took by the ribs, near the small of the back. He could feel her heart beat increasing, and feel the short sharp breathes she was taking. He could sense her every sensation as he pounded away. The signs all pointed one way. Her own orgasm was building. He abruptly pulled out of her, causing a moan of protest, but then sought her asshole, and forced his way in. This increased then pain, and the shame for her. She never let anyone try that, but now it was beyond her control. He slammed into her, until he exploded, and she followed suit. She collapsed to the floor, dazed by the events. He bent over her, and pushed something into her mouth. "Chew these, it will help." She nodded dumbly, and began to chew. "How could gum help?" she wondered vaguely. But they did help. A soft glow began to spread inside her, and her ass hurt less. The fact that this wasn't ordinary gum never occurred to her. The glow came from a synthetic cocaine compound he kept. The other ingredient would make itself known to her soon enough. He fished her license out of her purse, and noted her name and address. "See you tonight, Ms. Roberts. You'll be ready by then. Stay down for three minutes." He turned and left. As soon as he left, she got up and smoothed out her clothing. Then she got out her cell phone, and called the police. "I've just been raped," she said, and gave them her location. "Stay there, we'll be right over" she was told. And she did.

The police processed the crime scene, but found little useable trace evidence. This was a public area, after all, and there was no way to establish what hair went with what person. She went with them to the police department to complete the reports. She sat in the upright wooden chair, a handkerchief grasped tightly in her hand. While she gave them the basic information about name, address, etc. She frowned slightly. Something didn't feel right. But that was to be expected, she thought, after all that happened. Two minutes later, the color slowly drained from her face, and a small band of sweat beads broke on her brow. "Are you O.K., Miss?", the detective asked. He was in his mid-forties, and about twenty pounds over weight. "Could I get you some water?" She smiled, and shook her head, no. But the discomfort that had started now built, and rapidly. She could no longer blame this on what happened. This feeling needed relieving, and

now! "The washroom" she cried, "Where is it?" The detective nodded towards the hall. "Is it locked?" she asked. "No." he replied. She ran towards the door, and was grateful there were no pantyhose in her way. As soon as she sat down, her bowels emptied, with a force that shocked her. She couldn't remember anything like this before. But the relief she experienced brought a low moan from her, as the pain became relief. She didn't know that she had just experienced the effects of the second compound in the gum. Similar to Ex-Lax, it worked more swiftly, and more violently. But the effect was transitory, its work was now done.

When she returned to the detective's desk, she was asked if she was all right. She was much better, she replied. "Now, " the detective asked, "I don't mean to be indelicate, but I need to know the details, of, the, uh,

"event." She blushed, and told him. "Does this mean that there were no discharges in the vaginal area?" he asked. "No, I guess not." She replied. "Then the lab will have to swab your other "area" for semen." She sat there,

a look of shock on her face. The implications of the visit to the bathroom were now clear. "I don't think that will be necessary, Officer" she said, and 

then told him what had happened. No evidence remained after that. She sat and thought. Something nagged at her, but what was it? She sat silently, lost in thought. Then it became clear. "He said he was going to come over tonight" she finally said. "Can you be there?" His face hardened. "We'll be there, Ma'm, in spades."

Her condo was a few blocks off of the main street. Close enough to walk, but far enough away to be quiet. The street had no traffic to speak of at this moment. Just the hissing of the occasional car from someone trying to get back to the main road. The dry cleaning van sat a half a block down the street from her door, the small sedan a block down the other side of the street, on the opposite side. "Unit One, do you copy?" The driver of the van replied, "I copy. Prime view of the street, but there is a bush in the way near the door." "Unit Two , do you copy?" Until Two affirmed its response. The detective turned to the woman, and told her the units were in place. The camera in the van showed up on the small TV he put on the dining room table. It gave her a clear view of the street. "Pan around, Unit One ." he directed. The driver complied. Nothing could be seen. "Now we wait."

Two hours passed with no result. She paced back and forth, impatient. She stubbed out her cigarette. He wouldn't like her smoking, she thought. But then she stopped cold. Where did that come from? Why would I know that, and why would I care? She shuddered, but not from the cold. She looked out the window again. She could see the cars, but the men below, one in the lobby, one near the front door, one out back, covering the rear exit. There was no way he could escape. But why did that depress her, even a little. But it did. She hoped he wouldn't come and that he'd spend years in jail in equal but warring parts of her. She finally just wished it would all be over, one way of the other.

He sat in his house, drink in hand, flowing slowing back and forth over the clear ice. He had long ago given up trying to understand the Click. He had spent hours and hours over the years trying to understand what it was, and why it chose him, all without result. It had chosen him, or was a part of

him, and the rest didn't matter. It was like having freckles, or being left handed. It just was. May times he wished it would go as suddenly as it

came. It had its downsides, perhaps more severe than any benefit. It kept him from forming any lasting relationships. He couldn't imagine cheating on a spouse or girlfriend, but knew as long as the Click was there it was inevitable. Each time it happened, part of him seemed to flake away. He wondered what would happen when the last flake was gone. Would he die? Become impotent? Simply become a husk, like so many of the elder ones today? He had no idea, and no amount of soul searching produced any answers. He had hopes still of children, and idly wondered if having children might extinguish the Click. But he couldn't take the chance. The Click must be gone before he could have children. It wouldn't be fair otherwise. No that fairness seemed to matter much here. The smile playing across his face was fleeting, and bitter. Too much thought on this topic will make him crazy, he thought. Well, maybe crazier. Or sadder. Or older. Then why do it at all? Because it burned white hot? Because it made everything else pale beside it? Or because? That was it, wasn't it, after all? Just because. He had no choice.

He pulled over on the quiet street, just down from her block. He scanned the street for any signs of trouble, but could see none. He waited, patiently. If there was something there, he should spot it. He looked at the van, warily. A dry cleaning van shouldn't be there at this time of night, he thought. But he could detect no signs of life within. Should he scrub tonight? Part of him thought so, but that part lost the argument. It's just nerves, he thought. He breathed deeply, exhaled slowly, and stepped out of the car.

The Click Ch. 2



The night was cool, the promise of spring had not yet come in full. He walked to the curb, and then, pausing, started down the street. The streetlights came a pale glow, barely denting the darkness. His pace was measured, neither fast enough or slow enough to attract attention.

Upstairs, the detective asked her to look at the image of the tiny TV screen. 

"Is that him?" he asked.

"I'm not sure" she replied. "The light doesn't catch his face, or body either very well. Can't you move it for a different angle?"

The detective sighed. To civilians, everything seemed easy.

"Miss, without an identification, we can't stop him."

"I can't tell from there. Can't you help me please?"

Cursing quietly beneath his breath, he radioed the van.

"We've got trouble seeing him. Can you adjust the angle for better lighting?"

"Not without changing the laws of physics, Chief. How about Thomas in the car? He's facing the other way."

The detective thought, why not? Things weren't going well anyway.

"Thomas, can you pick him up?"

Thomas turned to his partner. "Did you bring a camera?"

His partner put down his coffee, sweating even in the cool night air. 

"It's back here somewhere," he responded, turning to rummage around in the back seat. He pushed the empty food wrappers aside, looking for the black case holding the video cam. 

"I found it," he said, triumph mingling with heavy breathing caused by the exertion. He fumbled with the case, the clasp resisting his chubby fingers. After several tries, he popped it open.

"Hurry up, damn-it, he'll be gone!"

"I'm going as fast as I can", he replied. Please, slow down, he prayed. Don't let me blow this.

He did pause. In fact, he stopped on the street, and took out a stick of gum, breath freshening. That pause gave the detective in the car the time he needed to swing the camera into position. But the detective wasn't mindful of the admonition, "Be careful of what you ask for, you might get it." That pause did let the camera swing into position, but as it did, it also let the streetlight reflect off of the lens. He noticed the flash of light where there shouldn't be one. He smiled, and thought "So that's the game tonight eh? O.K., I'll play." 

He continued to her building, entering the foyer, and headed towards the newspaper stands. Upstairs, she viewed repeated replays, trying to determine if it was, in fact him.

"I'm not sure, I'm not sure," she said, her voice strained with the effort of trying to find more details in her memory than it held. The thin line between memory and forcing details into existence was dangerously close to being crossed.

"Without a positive I.D., we can't stop him now. We'll have to wait until he actually does something," the detective reminded her, with harsh undertones of menace, and implied threat. Police, he thought, were seldom bothered by such niceties. For them line-ups were a formality, a confirmation of what was known, or thought to be known. He sighed. Maybe the two undercover cops in the lobby could get something. Looking up her unit number, unusual activity. Anything.

But such hopes were, so far, in vain. He had done nothing more than approach the machines, choosing his brand of paper. The undercover couple tried to remain inconspicuous, just another amorous couple. He looked at them, and their too neat hair, and determinedly ordinary clothes. He smiled. "Let's have some fun," he thought. He made a point of staring in their direction, then away, and back again.

The woman panicked. She whispered to her partner, "I think he made us!"

"Stay frosty, and stay in character. He doesn't know anything" her partner replied. Then, in keeping with his admonition, he kissed her, dramatically, and whispered in her ear, "Did he see that?"

She hardly heard him, so caught off guard was she after the kiss. Once her breath returned, she scanned his face. "I think so, he seems a little more relaxed." She wasn't ready for the second kiss, but was receptive to it. "It's part of the job, " she thought. But the feelings that started through her were definitively not job related. She was on the petite side, at five foot two, and one hundred five pounds. Her partner was six feet even, and one hundred eight pounds. No fat. 

The third kiss she initiated, and he responded, his left hand parting her dark red hair, while cradling her head, and his right hand traveled down her body to caress her breast. His hand found the buttons on her blouse, and popped them open with a practiced ease. She hadn't worn a bra; she doubted her 33-inch breasts needed the confining. Now, her nipples responded to his fingers, gently tweaking them, and rolling them between his finger and thumb. The thrills spread to her groin, fluids starting to flow. Her fingers played down his chest, confirming and admiring the hardness of his stomach. Her fingers strayed lower, and found that her rising heat was not a one-way street.

"This is necessary for the job, right," she asked.

"Absolutely," he replied. He'd say anything at that point.

He pushed her into a darker corner, giving them more privacy, but where they could still keep an eye on their suspect. He inched up her skirt, and found her wetness. The pantyhose were a problem, but nothing a good rip couldn't cure. Her panties he simply pushed aside. She undid his zipper, and pulled him free, noting his size with appreciation. He bent to kiss and suck her nipples, grazing them with his teeth. That was greeted with appropriate shivers of delight.

Then, bending to the task, he entered her, lifting her up by the ass as he did so. She wrapped her arms around his neck, and gasped at the act. Even as much as she wanted, hell, needed this, her body still wasn't ready to accommodate his size. Her eyes rolled as her vagina stretched to its fullest. "Damn, " she thought, "Why are there department rules against fraternization? I could get used to this."

Even as he lifted and held her, she began to ride him, seeking the release she now needed desperately. She moved back and forth on him, shivering as the sensations mounted. Her clit finally found what it needed, and she cried out as her orgasm washed over her. She kept going, determined to get everything she could out of the extraordinary situation. Finally, there was no more to get, and the situation was now the opposite. The stimulation was too much.

"Hurry up and finish, " she panted

Her plea to him woke him from his reverie of lust that had taken him out of the time and place he was in. He had mere fractions of a second to decide what to do. He may never be in this position again, and he decided to take advantage of it. He let her slide to the ground, then spun her around, and pushed her towards the wall. As her hands braced her on the wall, he flipped up her skirt, and shredding her panties, he entered her ass. He was fully lubricated from the last few minutes, and, after a momentary resistance, he was in. She was tight beyond belief, her ass hot and slick. His rythmn spoke only to his need, slowing down, and speeding up on his whim. She was lost in her own world. No one had taken her in this way for a long time, and that had gone badly. This, however, was unbelievable. She hunched back at him, increasing his pleasure. His hands came to her breasts, holding them, weighing, them, pulling on them and finally twisting her nipples as he came, over and over, her ass milking him dry. They didn't notice their suspect had all ready left, smiling.

Upstairs, they packed up. 

"I'm sorry, Miss. There isn't anything else we can do tonight. Call us if you see him again." She was sure that she would.

Two weeks passed, and nothing. She began to go back to her old routine, only occasionally looking in a store window, looking for a reflection, seeing nothing. Thursday was bright, unseasonably so. She had left her sunglasses at home, sure the overcast would last all day. She lingered in front of the Marshall Field's window, wondering about the grey suit it featured. The line weren't bad, but was it too over-priced? She never got to answer that question, someone pushed her arm up behind her back, and held her so close to him that her arm couldn't be seen. She was propelled through the front door, and past the first counter, and through a door in the wall she couldn't see, so much a part of the décor it seemed invisible. When the door closed, it was dark, too dark to see, but she didn't need light to know who was there with her. "How long did that take?" she wondered, "How many seconds?" She heard the door lock click into place.

"I'll scream." She said, now surprisingly calm.

"No, you won't. But if it amuses you, go ahead. Any noise the stock doesn't soak up will be covered by the heating unit behind you." He replied. This was no accident, neither the meeting nor the place. He had scouted her during the last two weeks, and knew her moves. The room he knew from a brief affair years ago with an attractive young sales girl. It had always proved up to the task. She screamed. Not earth-shatteringly loud, but loud none the less. Nothing. She tried again. Still nothing. 

She hadn't heard him cross the room over the screams, and was taken by surprise when he grabbed her jaw, and kissed her. The kiss was forceful, but not harmful. It was deep, and patient. She responded, and was lost. He let his hands slide down her body, grabbing her breasts, crushing the polished silk blouse in the process, gently twisting her nipples, teasing them into hardness. He pulled her blouse out from her skirt, and unbuttoned it from the bottom up. Once that was done, he slipped the blouse and blazer off of her shoulders, and tossed them aside. He grabbed her bra in front, half in each hand, and pulled it apart, ripping the fragile lace. He never pretended to look for the clasp. The skirt joined her blazer on the floor, while her panties and pantyhose joined the bra, in tatters and useless. He pulled her to him, and traced the outline of her back, and bottom. She could feel his warmth through his shirt, and felt even more naked knowing that she was subject to his most intimate touch, while he remained fully clothed.

He pushed her across the room until the back of her legs hit the desk. He cleared it with one sweep of his arm, and pushed her onto it, her back flinching from the cold. She tried to cross her legs, and deny him access, but he pushed them open with his knees, easily. He unzipped, took out his cock, and thrust into her, over and over, until he was finally in. He stayed above her, grasping and pulling and torturing her breasts, until she was breathing as hard as he was. 

Her thoughts were confused, as a riot of sensations cascaded through her. This violated every rule of her behavior and upbringing, but something about thrilled her is ways she didn't want to admit. This swirl finally ended when she reached her most intense orgasm yet. She shuddered, and cried out, all of which simply spurred him on. He grabbed her by the hips, and rammed her harder still, until he felt his own climax approaching.

He pulled out abruptly, and pulled her by the arms until she was kneeling in front of him, the sweat still shining on her. He drove into her mouth before she knew what was happening, her head now in both of his hands. She didn't even have time to object that he was still wet with her cum when he entered into her mouth, now driving into her throat. She sucked as hard as she could, all by instinct. His thrusts grew quicker, and more frantic, until he came, deep inside her. Spurt after spurt went down her throat, too deep for tasting. As he softened, and shrank, the final drops went onto her tongue. She milked all that she could from him, then slumped down, exhausted, shaking.

He zipped up, and left her in the darkness. She found her blouse and skirt, and dressed as best she could. She found the light, and saw her lingerie was beyond salvage. She left them in the wastebasket. She composed herself as best she could, and went home. She wouldn't see him again for a week.



The Client



Meeting the client and selling your firm's abilities to the client's firm is about the toughest part of the business of being in the contract evidence collection business. Invariably you want a lot more for the work than the client thinks it's worth. This is partly a function of time estimates, or miss-estimates on behalf of the client most of the time. They always seem to think that you can everything they need in about half of what if really takes. Today was no exception.

I met Kristi at ten in the morning, right on time, in her office. It wasn't hard to figure out that this law firm was doing well. They had offices on the twenty-third floor of the One Norwest Center building (otherwise known as the "cash register building") in downtown Denver. Those are some pricey digs. She laid out the problem as her client saw it, a brief history of the situation, and then told me very briefly what the lawsuit was about - after I signed a non-disclosure statement for myself and on behalf of the company for which I worked. Then I got the rest of the information and the gist of the rest of the case. Well, that blew most of the morning. The way that chick negotiated, I was beginning to realize how they got the money for this office space and was seriously beginning to think that she must have had real balls. I was willing to bet that in other situations, the term "screaming bitch" would probably have been an apt description. She had things to do at lunch and some calls to make. We made arrangements to resume the meeting at two in the afternoon. 

I needed a break like never before. I seriously thought about hitting the nearest bar and slamming down a few shots, but wisely chose just to go over to the Sixteenth Street Mall and get something to eat. After lunch, I made a few calls myself, and then just walked around the mall. During that walk I decided that there was something a little odd about Kristi, but I just couldn't put my finger on it. There were times when she acted more like a guy than a woman, but I finally wrote that off to just her job.

Around two that afternoon I was back in Kristi's office and we managed to finish up the negotiations within an hour or so. After that we got down to the real nitty-gritty of just what they needed in terms of satellite photos, land surveys, samples, and so on. By five it was time to hang it up for the day. In a rather surprising move, she invited my to have a drink at her favorite watering hole just a block away. Since the afternoon had gone much better than the morning, I decided that maybe she wasn't quite the screaming bitch that I thought she was earlier, and wanted to see if that persona persisted after she walked out the front door of the building. "Sure," I said, "after the negotiations of this morning, I could use one!"

"Aw, come on," she said with a grin, "I wasn't that tough on you!"

We left the building, and I swear it was like she flicked a switch on the way out the door. Ms. Lawyer was turned off and Ms. Sweetheart was turned on. The difference was noticeable almost immediately and pretty incredible.

"Let's get a table," Kristi said as we entered the bar. "I feel so on display sitting at the bar."

The cocktail waitress came by and we ordered our drinks. "The munchies are on the table in back, if you'd care for some," she said as she left.

We got up and went to the rear of the bar, got a small plate and loaded up. But, not quite as much as the rather obvious drag queen with the bad hair in front of us who looked like she was eating dinner here.

"Takes all sorts," I said as we returned to our seats.

"The drag queen?" she asked. "She's in here all the time. She really needs some lessons in makeup and how to dress. There are a few other ones in here from time to time, including tonight. "She nodded toward what appeared to be a woman sitting at the bar.


"That's another drag queen?" I asked surprised.

"Oh, big-time, and very good at it too."

She was certainly right about that! "Quite a bar you have here," I said with a laugh.

"If they bother you, we can go somewhere else," she offered.

"Nah, it's okay. The queens don't do much for me one way or the other. It's the trannies that are a lot more interesting."

"My, my," she said with a laugh. "I never would have guessed. You seemed so Mr. Straight. And all this time I thought I was going to have a little fun with you in here."

It seemed that she had an odd sense of humor. "Not straight, bi is more like it. I can see something in both sexes and a TS is more like the best of both sexes - a pre-op one that is."

"Into pre-ops huh? Interesting," she said with a smile, "very interesting."

I just told her I was bi and into pre-op trannies and she didn't even blink; and she thought I was interesting? After that the conversation drifted off to other things and we parted company for the evening shortly thereafter.

The next day I got up early and drove to Georgetown and Guanella Pass to see the site of the suit and the damage done to the surrounding area by the Two Jacks Mining Company. By eleven or so I had seen enough to give Kristi an estimate of the cost for the evidence she wanted. Lawyers are quick to sue over something, and notoriously slow at paying their bills - if they ever pay them if they lose a lawsuit of this nature. So, you'd better believe we wanted some money up front and padded the bill a little so we would break even if they lost the suit and didn't pay. Two Jacks Mining didn't seem to be rolling in money to me, but Kristi thought they had enough to get sued and keep on operating.

At noon I stopped in at the Red Ram restaurant in Georgetown for something to eat and wash it down with a beer. I gave a little though to Kristi. I found it odd that she would take me to a bar that was rife with drag queens, cross dressers, and perhaps the odd TS. I really had to wonder if she wasn't a TS herself. The more I thought about it, the more plausible that sounded. If that was the case, she was damn good at it, had spent a lot of money working herself over, and had practiced being a woman a lot. Moreover, being a lawyer in a very successful firm, she probably had the money to afford the transition. If she was a TS, was she pre-op too? That thought got me hard just thinking about the possibilities. Now I was looking forward to our next meeting this afternoon.

By three I was back in Kristi's office. I laid out what I had seen, went over what I thought she needed, and gave her the estimate. She wanted a few changes, of course, and then we agreed on a price. We also agreed on an upfront amount, how much was to be refunded if the suit was dropped and so on. I made it very clear that my company gathered the samples, got the lab results, took the pictures, and gathered any other evidence we could, but didn't taint, slant, or otherwise fake the results. That was just fine with her. By five that afternoon we had come to an agreement.

"Well, with that out of the way, are you up to another drink with me?" she asked.

"Sure," I agreed quickly, "but you sure had balls taking me to that place yesterday."

"Need 'em for the job," she said with a wicked smile as she picked up her purse. "Are you game for that place or would you care to try another?"

That little comment just about told me everything I needed to know. With a little luck I was going to be in for a great evening. "Since you like the place, I suppose that will do about as well as any. Now, are you up for dinner a little later?" When I took a good hard look at her, I could still see a guy in there somewhere. She was good, really good, but not perfect. Yea, this could just turn out to be one hot night.

"Oh, I always love to eat out."

Again, it was the way she said it - eating out had a very sexual overtone. I loved it!

We walked to that same strange little bar that we had been in yesterday, and there were some of the… well, let's say not exactly "everyday" people that had been in there yesterday, and a few new ones. This time we got a tight little booth in the dimly lit back of that bar that sat two, one on each side of the table.

We had no sooner order our drinks that I felt a stockinged foot between my legs. It quickly moved right to my crotch and started massaging my partly hard cock.

"I know you know what I am, and I'm sure happy that you like trannies," she said softly with a huge smile. "You wouldn't believe what I can do for you."

I had a pretty good idea of what she could do for me. I spread my legs a little wider and found myself rock hard in seconds. Right about then I wanted to strip her naked, and get very oral with her, sucking her boobs and her cock, however large or small it was. "Yea, you're like a dream come true," I said, realizing that that probably sounded pretty cheesy. She was getting me so hot it was hard to even think straight. 

The drinks came, and her foot stayed right where it was, not trying to get me off so much as just toying with me and letting me know that she was as hot for me as I was for her.

"Hard to get dates being a TS?" I finally asked her. 

"There are good days and bad days. Some of the guys that ask me out apparently don't know what I am, in spite of some hints, and get really pissed when they find out. More than one has tried to beat the shit out of me. Then there are others who act all interested in me but just want sex with a TS and nothing more. One quick fuck to see what it's like and that's the last I see of them. Now and then I meet a guy like you who can treat me like a real person - and that doesn't suck."

I thought that was a bit of a leap since we had been on more or less two dates and this was the second. However, there was nothing more that I would like than to have a good sex-infested and fun relationship with a hot TS like Kristi. We finished our drink, had a second one and then decided to go down the street a few doors to a nice Italian restaurant and have something to eat. She was so completely passable, that not only had I not figured her out right away, no one else was going to either. Just going out with her was pretty exciting.

We got to Malossi's and sure enough, she caught the eye of more than one guy and a look-over by more than one woman. As far as they were concerned, I was with a babe; I was all smiles. We got seated quickly and had a nice meal. I doubt if there was one person in the whole place that even suspected that Kristi was a TS or anything but a good looking woman.

After dinner we decided to go to her place. Now I was really getting excited. It took a little doing to get two cars over to her apartment building, but we managed. It turned out to be one of those high-rise joints, and she wasn't on the bottom floor. 

"Nice view huh?" she said pulling the drapes apart. "I can leave these drapes open at night and parade around here naked. Short of someone having a very power telescope, there isn't anyone close enough to see me. Ten floors up does tend to give you a little privacy."

This place had absolutely huge nearly floor to ceiling windows along one wall. The view was spectacular. She gave me a quick tour of the place, ending up in the bedroom. It was next to the living room and had the same view.

Kristi pulled the drapes apart in the bedroom. "I just love the view," she said. "Most of the time I leave the drapes open - even at night." She stood there looking out the window at the lights of Denver. "I just never got tired of the view."

I just had to wonder how many high powered telescopes were trained on her windows each night. It was an interesting paradox, she could show off all she wanted, probably knowing she was being watched, and no one could say a thing about it. Anyone who did would be guilty of being a peeping tom. I came up behind her and put my arms around her waist. "There's another view I'd like to see," I whispered in her ear.

"I know love," she said. "I was just about to get to that. How about you give me one too?"

Moving away from the window and closer to her large bed, we both started getting undressed. I didn't have as much on as she did, so I got stark naked a little quicker than she did. It was fun just watching her get undressed. When the panties came down, I finally got to see what she was hiding. It was a nice cock, not too long and nice and thick - perfect for sucking.

Now, with her fully undressed, I sat on the edge of the bed and asked her to slowly turn around and show me that hot body of hers. I had no idea how much work it had been to transform a guy's body in to what she had now, but it was a real piece of art - every guy's dream of a she-male. I just couldn't wait to play with her boobs, suck her hard cock, and fuck her right up that sexy little ass of hers. "I just have to have a taste of this," I said sinking to my knees in front her. I reached up with my hand and held her small testicles, hefting them, and then rolling them around in my fingers. I was firm with them, just like I like it when mine are played with. Her cock was now nice and hard and very inviting. It was a nice size for sucking, not too long and not too thick - a real thing of beauty. Before long I had it in my mouth, caressing it with my tongue. I was moving my head back and forth, taking it all the way into my mouth, then sliding it all the way out so that my tongue could caress the swollen head. She had a beautiful cock and I was enjoying every inch of it. I started going up and down the shaft faster now, as I continued to caress those nice firm testicles on her. She must have really been horny, as in a few seconds she was begging me to stop or she would come in my mouth. Being as that wasn't exactly what I wanted tonight, I did stop, and we traded places; I stood and she knelt in front of me. Now it was my turn to get sucked and caressed. However, with her working on my cock, I reached down and began toying with her rather nice boobs and her rock hard nipples.

"Nice cock," she said, taking my cock out of her mouth for a few seconds to admire what she had been sucking on. "I just know I'm going to love this up my ass."

"Yea, that's where it belongs, so how about we get on the bed and put it there."

"On my back or do you prefer doggy style?" she asked as she let go of my cock and began moving to the bed.

"On your back. I want to fuck you and watch you jerk off at the same time."

Kristi got on her back in the middle of the bed and spread her legs wide, then lifted them as I got between them. Without saying a word, she handed me a tube of lube that she must have had under a pillow, as I never really saw her reach for it.

I put a nice amount of it on the tip of my cock and spread it around, getting the whole thing nice and slick. That done, I placed the tip of my cock against her asshole and slowly pushed into her. With little more than the head of my cock inside her tight little ass, I let it sit there a few seconds while she got used to it invading her bottom and then slowly started moving in and out, giving her a little more of it each time I pushed into her. She reached down and started masturbating her cock. It had been pretty hard before, but grew and got a lot harder in just a few seconds. I held her legs up and wide apart, watching my cock slide in and out of her ass. As I picked up speed, her boobs started to jiggle with the pounding she was getting. If those boobs were enhanced with any silicone, it was one hell of a job. Most of them appeared to be a result of hormones. They weren't huge, but they looked very natural and there wasn't a scar to be seen anywhere.

"How do you like fucking a tranny?" she asked. "Is it as hot as you thought it would be? Do you like fucking me? Do you like being in my hot little ass?"

"It's hot. So hot I don't think I'll last too long. I'm gonna fill your tight little ass with a load of come any second now."

"I just love a hot, throbbing, come shooting, hard cock in my ass," she said as she slowed down on her cock. 

Just then I decided that girls ought to come first and I really wanted to see that cock of hers spew some of its creamy sperm. "You know," I said slowing down, "girls usually come first, and I really want to see you come. I want to be the one that makes you come!" I brushed her hand away from her hard cock and began stroking her hard cock myself.

"Mmmmm…" she murmured. "Keep that up and you really will make me come for you."

"Promise?"

"Oh yea lover," she said with her eyes closed, "I'm going to come really big for you."

"Good," I said with a smile, "squirt lots of that nasty girl cream for me. I want to see it hit your pretty boobs."

"Uh-uh…I will, I promise…just a little longer. I wanna come so bad."

I wasn't moving in and out of her much any longer, but I was nice and hard inside her tight little asshole. I knew I was going to feel her throb when she did come, and it was just about going to be enough to set me off. I didn't speed up jerking her off, just kept up a nice slow erotic pace, almost teasing her, making sure that she would come and give me everything she had. I was going to completely empty her small balls. "Nice clit," I said, not exactly sure if she like having her cock called that, though it sounded nice. "I just want to see it come."

"Oh God, real soon. Just a little faster…please? I'm so close. I wanna squirt for you so bad. I wanna come!"

No deal. I stayed at the same pace, admiring her cock as I stroked it, knowing it was teasing her but she was still going to come for me anyway - she couldn't help it. I was just going to get a little more of that girl come out of her by making it last.

"Soon, real soon," she moaned, and began moving her hips so that my hard cock moved in and out of her a little more - a little deeper and faster. "I'm gonna come so good."

She was making it just a little harder to jerk her off, but I kept it up. "Ready to come for me? Ready to squirt all that hot nasty girl come out for me to see?"

"Uh….yea baby…" she moaned. "I'll give you all my girl come, just keep that up." There as a short pause, then, "Here…I come!" she finally screamed. "Oh God yes, make me come! Make me COME!"

Sure enough, I could feel her squeeze my cock with her ass, and I felt that first huge load of come with my cock as she sprayed that first load out of her own cock. It shot way up her body, nearly making it to her tits. It was quickly followed by load after load as I continued to jerk her off, being careful not to cover the squirting end of her cock with either her foreskin or my finger. I loved watching her pearly white come spurt out the end and land on her soft body. Not to leave out that exotic feeling she gave my cock as her body contracted and throbbed for each squirt. 

Just as her come was ending, I have her a few quick pumps, going long and deep and then started to come myself. "HERE IT COMES BABY," I shouted as I shoved my cock deep into her ass. My first load shot deep into her still clenching ass. I leaned over on her, pressing my body to her come drenched body as I shot my sticky hot sperm up her tight little ass. I pulled her tightly to me, pumped like mad, and gave her everything I had in me. Her hot boobs and hard nipples pressed against my chest, and that warm sticky mess on her body just made it all the hotter.

"That was great," I whispered when I was finally done filling her. "You are really something."

"You were pretty good too," she said. "No one has ever gotten me off like that before."

"I don't get off like I just did very often either," I said as I rolled off of her. Now there was a sticky mess on my chest as well as on hers. I move my head over to hers and gave her a long wet kiss. "You were really great," I said.

I dated her a few more times, fucked the daylights out of her a couple of more times, but it never blossomed into much of a relationship. She was pretty good at turning off that screaming bitch act when she left the office, but the more she got to know me, the less she cared to be careful with that act. We parted ways in time, but still keep in touch. And, she's still as hot as ever.




The Client



I had been living in the city on my own for about 5 years now, working at the same job for the last 7 years and not feeling any happier. I rented a small apartment not too far from my office and lived all by myself. It's not that I wasn't happy with what I did for a living, it's just that some of the people I worked with were absolute dicks. Growing up about 6 hours away, I rarely saw my friends and family. I realized quickly after moving out here that I would need to find something outside of work to keep my mind happy and engaged in life. 

I remember it being a Wednesday when my manager called me into his office and told me that he wanted me to meet a very important client. The man in the office was probably about 6 foot or so, about 200 lbs and wearing a suit with no tie and his collar open. He introduced him to me and told the gentleman that I was one of his best employees. I remember thinking to myself... "Is that why I never get a raise?" Nonetheless, we chatted for a few moments and I was asked to take him through some of the projects I was working on for their account. I probably spent 5 minutes with the man before I realized how big of an asshole he was. He would ask stupid questions, make sarcastic comment after sarcastic comment and couldn't stop looking at the ass of every girl that walked by. By the time 6pm rolled around, I couldn't wait to get out of there. Just as I was about to tell the client that we should probably wrap up... My manager comes over and asked me how everything was going. The client said that I was doing a great job here, and then they proceeded to chat while I started slowly packing up my things. My manager then turned to me and asked me if I wanted to come to his house this evening for a few drinks and hors d'oeuvres. Knowing it would probably be bad for my job if I turned this down, I said sure and asked what time. My manager said about 9:30pm and to try and be on time. I packed up the rest of my things and went home.

I made sure to catch the 9:03pm train by my apartment to be at my manager's place on time. He only lives a few miles away, but I figured I get there earlier than later. When I arrived at his building, I asked the doorman which floor he was on. He escorted me to the elevator and pressed the button for me. I thought how nice it must be to have a doorman. As I strolled to my manager's front door, I thought how much this night was probably going to suck... And how tired I'd inevitably be in the morning. I didn't really like going to bed late during the week and I was already out past 9. This would be a late night. I knocked 3 times and heard someone inside holler "coming" and quick footsteps coming towards the door. As the door opened I saw about 7 or 8 men standing around with a drink in their hand suddenly stop and take a look at me. Feeling awkward and a bit shy... I jokingly said hello and half smiled. Most of them smiled back and my manager asked me to come in. 

"I am so glad you could make it tonight."

"Oh, well... Yeah, thanks for inviting me."

"Can I get you anything? A stiff drink perhaps?"

"Sure, surprise me."

"Absolutely!"

As my manager turned to walk away, I spotted the client from earlier today and we made eye contact. He smiled and started walking over.

"Hi, I was hoping you'd come tonight."

"After a tough day in the office, we can all use a little unwinding I suppose."

"I bet you get worked real hard, don't you."

"Well... I'd say I work as hard as anybody."

"So, your in the office all day long and still have the time to hit the gym and stay in shape."

"Well, I appreciate that... Thanks."

"What do you do? Looks like you have a great chest and a real tight ass... Or butt, if you don't mind me saying."

As he said that I felt a hand tightly grip my right ass cheek.

"What the fuck!?"

"Just checking out what all the fuss is about over here." Said my manager as he returned with my drink.

"You said surprise you... Well... SURPRISE!" He started laughing wildly. 

"Well, alright then... But seriously, I do a lot aerobic stuff, ab routines and some weights."

"It definitely shows!" Said the client. "Hey, do you think you could show me your abs? I've been working on mine for awhile now and can't seem to get definition."

"Where, right here?" I said.

"Yeah, just lift up your shirt a little so I can see them. I won't bite."

I was wearing an untucked polo shirt, so lifting it up wasn't going to be the biggest challenge. I took the drink in my left hand and pulled up my shirt with my right. 

"Wow, they look great. Defined, hard... Incredible!"

"Thanks, takes a lot of hard work, but I try."

The client giggled a little and smiled again at me. 

"Can I just touch them? Curious to see if they are as hard as they look."

As the client asked that, I realized that all the other men in the room were staring at us. I instantly felt like the center of attention... And a bit uncomfortable.

"Actually, I'm not sure if that is the best idea."

As I said that, I felt a man from the group come up behind me and grab my arms from behind. He pulled them behind my back and pushed me to my knees.

"Listen... All we wanted to do was feel your abs. Just some harmless touching. Is that so wrong?"

My manager stepped out from the group and stepped right in front of me. 

"Let's cut this shit already... I am going to be first."

A confused look ran over my face.

"First for what?"

"COCK SMOKING!!!" One of the men from behind me shouted.

As he finished saying that, both the client and my manager began unzipping their flies and pulling down their pants. Before I could even get a word out, I felt 2 different hands on each side of my head, pushing me forward onto the cock that now appeared before me.

"Now, you can suck this nicely... Or... Well... You don't want to know what we will have to resort to."

Again, before I could answer... The hands pushed my head forward again into my manager's cock. As it entered my mouth, the men from behind me started get excited and I heard a moan from a few different places. I could sense a bit of a commotion from around me as I kept sucking, but couldn't really see what was going on, because I was still being held by the head and arms. I sucked his cock as best I could, trying not to piss off the group of men that were holding me there. I then felt my manager's hand reach out and grab ahold of the hair on top of my head. As that happened, the hands from the sides of my head let go and my manager was pulling me back and forth by the hair. 

I heard more of a commotion now and for a split second, out of the corner of my eye, I could see that all the other men were standing around me naked, stroking themselves as they watched me suck on the cock in front of me. 

"I think it's time for some of the rest of us to have a turn." 

"That sounds fair... You know what else sounds fair? If he gets undressed too."

A few of the men behind me stood me up and started violently pulling off my shirt and undoing my pants. Within a few moments, I was standing there naked. Then... Again, I was pushed down to the floor. This time onto all fours and let over to the couch where 2 men were sitting next to each other. 

"Now... You need to service both of these men."

Someone from the group grabbed ahold of my hand and placed it on the cock to the right, while another man from the group pushed me forward onto the cock on the left. 

"Come on now boy... Start sucking! And don't forget to service the other one too!"

I went to work sucking the cock on the left as I slowly stroked the cock on the right. Unlike my manager, both of these cocks were already hard and enormous. Each was easily about 8 or 9 inches and fully aroused. I sucked for a minute or two when I started to feel a few of the men come up behind me and start squeezing my ass and rubbing my back. I tried to tune it out because I was afraid of what was going to come next. I concentrated on working both cocks in front of me to make sure I wouldn't get hurt. Every minute or so I would switch to the other cock, taking the head and shaft deep into my mouth, while continuing to stroke the other cock from the base to the tip.

Now, again... I felt hands rubbing and squeezing my ass, but this time I felt a hand go in between my cheeks.

"Why don't we kick this up a notch." Said a man from behind.

"Sounds like a good idea to me." The client responded.

Someone then put their hands on my hips and pulled my ass up a little bit to be at a better angle. Then, I felt a wet hand rubbing in my crack and around my asshole. This was the first time I had ever felt a man playing with my ass... And I have to admit that it felt incredible. I loved when my girlfriends touched or patted my ass, but having a finger rubbing around the rim of my asshole was a totally new sensation. I kept sucking the cocks in front of me and the finger in my crack kept rubbing. As it did, I let out a faint moaning sound.

"OHHHHHH SHIT! I think this little baby boy likes that."

"See if he likes this."

I now felt a hand on each ass cheek, gently pulling them apart to expose my asshole to the group. When my cheeks were wide enough for the man behind me... He took his right hand off my ass and started rubbing the tip of his cock up and down my crack. Again, I let out a little moan as I felt the thick head make contact with the rim of my asshole. As the cock rubbed up and down, precum oozed out and make what he was doing slippery and sticking. Then, after a minute or so... He started to slowly push his cock into my asshole. 

"OH FUCK!! THAT FUCKING KILLS!!" I said as I lifted my head up from the cock that I was working on.

"Just relax baby... Let me get to work... I promise you'll like it."

The man continued to push his cock, inch by inch, into my ass until the entire thing was inside and I could feel his balls. I closed my eyes for a second to try to ignore the pain, but had trouble focusing. When I opened them, 2 other men were now standing up next to the 2 guys I had been sucking. One stood on each side of me with hard cocks pointed in my direction. Without even having them ask... I grabbed ahold of the one on the far right and started sucking the one on the far left, making sure not to spend too much time on any particular one. I wanted to make sure all 4 cocks were getting attention and no one would get angry at me. 

The man then slowly started pulling his cock out of my ass and then started slowly thrusting it back in. This time the penetration felt amazing as it slowly filled my rectum. I started moaning as his cock was pumping my ass. As he pumped and I serviced the men in front of me, I began to lose track of time. My eyes rolled back a bit and I was in another place. Without notice, one of the men sitting on the couch that I had been sucking on for awhile now, starting spurting cum straight up into my face. He grabbed the back of my head and pulled my face into his lap. As his cock entered my mouth, I could feel the load splashing around my mouth and some drip down my throat. When he finished cumming, I leaned back with a mouthful of cum and he slowly got up. Instantly, another man from the group took his place with a semi hard cock. Not having a towel, I just swallowed the rest of the cum in my mouth and wiped an excess around my lips with my forearm.

"FUCK FUCK... I'M GONNA CUM!" Said the man still pumping my ass. "OH GOD!!!"

The cum started exploding in my asshole and I could feel it shooting deep inside me. His load was extremely powerful and felt amazing as it filled me up. He slowly started pulling it out and stepped back. Then the last man from the group stepped up behind me and quickly shoved his cock into my ass. He started pumping ferociously now, spanking my ass and squeezing the cheeks as if they were handles. The sticky cum left in my ass was causing a squooshy sounding noise every time he thrusted forward.

"Let's go boy... Flip over on the couch." 

The man pumping my ass wanted me up sitting up on the couch with my legs in the air. The 4 men I was working on got up out of the way as I got into position. One of the men on each side held my legs up and again the man shoved his hard dick into my ass. The rest of the men, some standing up on the couch, continued to stroke their dicks over me as they watched their friend fucking me. Again, I lost track of time as my eyes closed and I went with the feeling of ecstasy that I was receiving. 

"Uhh... Uhh... Oh, yeah... My shit is ready!" I heard as my eyes stayed closed.

I opened them up and the man was removing his cock from my ass and stepping up forward between my legs. He started stroking his cock aggressively and shooting cum onto my chest and neck. One of the initial spurts made it all the way to my chin, which I stuck out my tongue to lick as he finished his load. Then, I felt a load of cum shooting onto me from the right side, splashing onto the right side of my face... And then another load from the left side covering my stomach and chest. Each of the men were jerking off on me now, probably about 5 loads in total. Huge globs of cum splashed all over my face, chest and stomach. It was thick and sticky... And I continued to lick any that was around my mouth. As the warm cum covered my body, I rubbed it around with my hands, massaging it in swishing my tongue around my lips to get more of the delicious salty taste. I lay there awhile longer with my eyes closed having felt totally drained and exhausted. I woke up on the couch hours later, naked, sticky and alone. I looked at the clock across the room and saw that it was 10:13am.

"FUCK! I'M LATE FOR WORK!"

I got up off the couch, feeling stiff from all the cum that covered my body... But knew I wouldn't have time to wash. I was still fantasizing about what had happened and having all of that dry cum on me got me excited. I threw my clothes on and headed off to work.



The Client



Everybody likes to fuck, and fat chicks are no exception. Most people balk at the idea of laying the wood to a fatty, but if you can get over the outward appearance, you can get some of the best pussy you ever had. These chicks might not be much to look at, but they'll drain the cum out of your nuts like a champ if you let them. 

Let's take Marsha for instance. She's the typical worker you'll find in just about any office. She's about 45, and overweight from years of sitting at a desk. Marsha's friends from work decided one day to give her a little present. They found a cute guy to give Marsha a little lovin'. They told Marsha that an important client was coming to the office today, and that to land the account she was going to have to do whatever it takes to make sure the client was happy. 

Marsha knows that in the real world shit like this never happens, but she said to herself, "fuck it, I'm not passing up a chance to get some cock,I'll play along." 

The client, a twenty something named Ryan, arrived at the office about 11AM and Marsha proceeded to give him the presentation and show him around the office. Around noon everyone decided that it was time to go to lunch, leaving Marsha and Ryan very much alone in the office. Marsha didn't need any more cue than that to get to work. She led Ryan to a conference room and locked the door. 

Marsha, neither bashful nor sexually inhibited, went immediately to the task of making the client happy. She took a seat next to Ryan at the conference table and asked, "what did you think of our presentation?" 

"Well, I have a few questions, there's the matter of the quarterly earnings projections......uh they...uh," Ryan replied. 

"Go on," Marsha said seductively. 

"Well they uh....you know....they," Ryan was stammering because he had just noticed Marsha was massaging his dick under the table. 

Marsha stood up and took her top off. 

"Uh...Ms. Cunningham I don't think," Ryan babbled. 

Marsha un-zipped Ryan's pants, took out his flaccid penis, dropped to her knees and started to suck. Now most people would probably be saying to themselves at this point, how in the hell is an overweight, middle-aged office worker going to seduce this fit young twenty something? 

Ryan was about to find out the fun way. It was about ten seconds before Ryan was a moaning, quivering puddle of goo in Marsha's experienced hands. Marsha was a master cocksucker. She was an expert at giving just the right amount of attention to the head, then deepthroating it all the way down to the base, and massaging your balls in that perfect way to keep you right on the edge of cumming, but not until she was ready for you to. 

After about three minutes Ryan didn't even know where he was. Marsha had him in the palm of her hand and she knew it. She planned to play this little encounter for all it was worth. Marsha was an expert at telling just when a guy was about to cum, and she loved to tease them. 

She would deepthroat you for a while to get you nice and worked up, then she would suck just the head like a lollipop for a while until you were just about ready to pop, then she would suddenly stop and lick the area between your balls and asshole while you were sitting there with your dick throbbing. 

She always knew just how long to wait for you to calm down a bit, then she would massage your balls as she licked you shaft up and down with the tip of her tongue, the repeat the process all over again. Sometimes she'd do this two or three times before she'd let you cum. 

Guys would get frustrated and yell, "dammit bitch don't stop I need to cum." Marsha would just giggle, and go on teasing the poor guy mercilessly. She knew they liked it, and when she was ready to let you cum, it was all worth it. 

The way you could tell Marsha was done teasing and was ready to let you cum was, she would put her hands behind her back and lick all the way up your shaft then take your cock in her mouth with no hands. She would suck only the head like a lollipop then just when you were about to pop she would grab your dick right where the shaft meets the head and squeeze it hard then let you explode. The cum would gush out of your dick all over her face, and leave you worn out and quivering. 

This is where Ryan found himself today, nuts drained, dick throbbing, head spinning, buck naked, with Marsha, now also naked, standing over him, with some very naughty things on her mind. 

After receiving the blowjob of his life Ryan was babbling, "Uh...Ms. Cunningham...wow." 

"Shut the fuck up," Marsha barked. 

Marsha climbed up on the conference table, spread her legs to reveal a clean shaven pussy and said, "I just gave you the best head you ever had, get you ass over here and return the favor."

Ryan sprang up out of his seat and planted his head between Marsha's thighs. Marsha didn't really expect Ryan to give her the best head she'd ever had, she was just happy to get her pussy eaten, but Ryan was lapping at her coochie like a crazed dog. Licking her labia, sucking her clit, sticking his tongue in her pussy. 

"Damn Mutherfucker, Get in there and Get Some," Marsha thought to herself as she let her head back and let out a soft moan. 

Marsha was thoroughly enjoying Ryan's eager tongue when a thought hit her. Marsha looked up and noticed Ryan's now extremely erect penis, the head swollen and purple, veins bulging throughout the shaft, she suddenly shoved his head from between her legs and climbed from the table down onto the floor. 

"Give me that fucking cock," she barked. 

Ryan hadn't even noticed he'd gotten his erection back, let alone how hard it was. He'd been so focused on Marsha's yummy tasting pussy he'd forgotten about everything else. 

He looked down at his engorged sex organ, and thought to himself, "Damn." 

He quickly came to his senses and joined Marsha down on the floor. He positioned himself between her thighs, and slowly rubbed the tip of his penis along Marsha's pussy crack, pausing to pay special attention to the clit. He slid his cock inside her, and thought to himself, "Fat chicks pussies are tight, wet, and very warm." 

He'd only been inside her a minute, and his cock was already slick with pussy juice. Ryan grabbed Marsha's tits to balance himself and kept thrusting. Ryan began to notice that it didn't feel like he was going to pop so he started to pump faster and faster until finally he was tired he had to take a break. 

Marsha was having the time of her life. Her eyes were closed, she was moaning, "Uhhh..yes...fuck yes." 

When Ryan pulled out, Marsha might not have even noticed. Her hips were still grinding so Ryan decided to not disappoint her and used his fingers to massage her clit as he took a quick break. Ryan was breathing pretty heavily, but his dick was as hard as it had ever been. So hard in fact that it hurt. It didn't really hurt in a bad way, but hurt in a way as to make Ryan think, "Shit, my dick's never been this hard before." 

Ryan used his thumb to massage Marsha's clit, and his middle finger to penetrate her pussy. He used the other hand to massage her tits. Marsha was kind enough to reach over and give his painfully throbbing dick a nice massage, she really seemed to know just what to do to please a man. It didn't take very long for Ryan to catch his breath, and re-position himself back between her thick thighs for intercourse. 

As Ryan was about to insert himself back inside her, he stopped and thought a moment, "You know, this might be the best sex I ever had." 

As Ryan slowly entered her, Marsha gave a soft moan and arched her back. This time Ryan decided to pace himself so he wouldn't need another break before climax. Ryan had a nice little rhythm going when Marsha decided she wanted to get on top for a while. Ryan hesitated for a second, Marsha probably had a hundred pounds on him, but he said to himself, "fuck it, if I get crushed I'll go out a happy mutherfucker." 

Ryan let Marsha climb on top and she didn't crush him, quite the contrary, she rode him reverse cowgirl like a mutherfucking pro. She bounced up and down on his dick like an eighty pound gymnast. It was about this time that it dawned on Ryan that girls don't learn to fuck like this sitting at home on Friday nights eating ice cream and cookies, this bitch must get around. 

Ryan had been with models, dancers, actresses, and beauty queens, none of them had ever fucked him like this. Ryan didn't have time to give much more thought to this because he was ready to get his nut. 

Marsha must have been some kind of mind reader because it wasn't long before she had climbed off of him, and up onto the conference table again. She grabbed Ryan and pulled him between her thighs, then guided his now painfully engorged penis into her eagerly waiting vagina. Ryan didn't give a shit about getting tired now. He was going to plant his seed so deep in this fat bitch she'd be spitting out cum. 

Marsha had no objection to this, she wanted as much of his sperm as she could get. You wouldn't think a fat girl could do the splits, but Marsha had her legs open so wide, that if a Mack Truck had a dick it could get inside her. Marsha was smart enough to know that this was the man's time and all she needed to do now was lie back, spread her legs, and enjoy. 

As Ryan was making his final thrust, Marsha began to gently encourage him, "Mmmm..faster baby, Oooh yeah fuck me baby." 

Ryan pumped faster, and Marsha took a more assertive tone, "You better not stop....you better not stop until you cum... You better fuck me you skinny mutherfucker...You stop I'm gonna kick your ass." 

Ryan's dick was drenched in pussy juice, sliding in and out hard and fast. He was pumping the shit out of her when suddenly Marsha froze, let out a deep moan and said, "Uhhhh God." 

Ryan ignored her and kept thrusting. He pounded her for about another forty-five seconds before his body froze. As wet as her pussy was, Marsha could still feel Ryan's cum as it exploded inside her. It was warm, and there was lots of it. Ryan was still frozen, breathing hard when Marsha came to her senses. She scooted back on the table so she could take Ryan's now deflating cock out of her pussy. Marsha got down on her knees and noticed cum was still oozing out of Ryan's dick. She grabbed his cock and let a few drops drain onto her tits. She gave the tip of his dick a little kiss and went to gather her clothes. 

When she finished dressing, Ryan was still standing by the conference table naked, pussy juice and cum still dripping from his dick. Marsha walked up behind him and ran her fingers through his hair and said, "so about that account."

"Oh... the account...uh you see...I should probably explain," Ryan babbled. 

Marsha walked over to the conference room door and opened it to reveal her two grinning friends just outside, their ears pressed to the door. Ryan quickly grabbed his clothes to cover his now flaccid penis. 

"Uhh..Andrea... Danielle hey," said Ryan 

"You aren't really a client are you sweetie?" Marsha asked with a sly grin. 

"Well no... you see," Ryan stammered. 

"It's ok honey, the men's room is at the end of the hall to the right, why don't you go get dressed," Marsha suggested.

Ryan gathered up the rest of his clothes and scrambled out of the room. Marsha gave him a pat on the butt as he hurried by. 

"Shit, Where the fuck did you guys find that one?" Marsha asked her friends. 

"Talking shit at a bar downtown," Danielle replied. 

Marsha's friends didn't get Ryan as a present for Marsha. Marsha was the present for Ryan. Ryan liked to brag about his sexual conquests, but for all his talking, Andrea and Danielle didn't think it sounded like Ryan had really experienced good sex. 

It sounded to them like he was dating really pretty girls, but they were just laying there like rag dolls when he got them into bed. So Andrea and Danielle decided to help him. 

They told him, "We'll get you a girl that will give you the best sex you ever had... We're not going to tell you anything about her, just be at our office at 11AM and pretend to be a big shot client... One of the girls in our office is willing to do anything to make our clients happy, if you get my drift, you'll know her when you see her. If you don't leave saying you just had the best sex ever we'll give you a $1000." 

Danielle and Andrea did play a little game of bait and switch with Ryan. When he arrived for his presentation Marsha was the one doing the talking, going over the boring numbers and business stuff, that went in one of Ryan's ears and out the other, while Marsha's assistant Amber was making eyes, smiling, crossing her legs, hiking up her skirt, and doing all the flirting. It took all the self-restraint and discipline Andrea and Danielle could muster not to laugh as Amber got Ryan all worked up. 

Ryan got dressed and came back out into the office. Marsha, Danielle, Andrea, and Amber were all waiting for him with sly grins on their faces. 

Amber chimed in first, "Sooo...." 

"Want your thousand bucks?" Andrea barked. 

"Uhhh.. Well no, that's uhhh... the best sex I ever had," Ryan stammered. 

"Didn't think so," replied Danielle. 

Marsha took out one of her business cards, walked over to Ryan and put it in his shirt pocket with one hand as she gave his dick a squeeze with the other and said, "Call me when you need it done right sweetie." 

She gave him another pat on the butt and went back to her office. Amber, Danielle, and Andrea all burst out laughing. 

"Bye," they all said in unison as Ryan headed out to his car thinking to himself, 

"What the fuck just happened?" 

He did know one thing, he wouldn't overlook fat chicks again. 



The Client



As an epilogue, Two Jacks Mining took the suit to trial, refusing any offers of a settlement. They were headquartered in Wyoming and incorporated in New Jersey. Anticipating that they would loose, they had quietly done some disposing of assets, mostly by selling them, paid large bonuses to the upper management and board of directors, and otherwise got ready for what eventually happened - they lost the suit. By the time the judgment was handed down, the company was just about worthless and they declared bankruptcy thus dissolved the company. Kristi's law firm never came close to getting their cut of the anticipated money, and of course the firm for which I worked never got anything beyond our original up-front money.

Copyright by Art July, 2003, all rights reserved.



The Client



The lobby of the hotel is nearly deserted when I arrive. I find my way to the bar where you told me to meet you and find you sitting in a booth toward the back. Sitting across from you is another man. He’s tall with dark hair and eyes and looks to be about 45. Not bad looking but, no one who would normally catch my eye.

As I slide into the seat next to you, you wave over the waitress and order me a drink. “This is a client of mine from New York,” you gesture toward the man whose eyes are obviously wandering from my face to the top of my dress where my breasts are just barely visible. “I’ve told him about you and invited him to join us for a drink.”

The man’s mouth curves into a slow smile as I look into your face and then his with a quizzical expression. “He’s a very good client of mine and I want to make sure that he’s well taken care of while he’s in town.” I feel your hand on my arm. “You’re going to make sure that he goes back to New York happy. Do you understand?”

I understand immediately and as I sip my drink, I slide off my shoe and begin caressing up and down the man’s leg with my toes. “Of course. You know that I’m always happy to help you with your work, Chris,” I smile, staring deliberately into the man’s dark eyes.

You slip a small card key into my hand and tell me to up to go the room and get things ready. I finish the last of my drink and head upstairs. Once in the room, I call downstairs to room service and order up a pitcher of martinis – for three. I turn down the sheets on the king-size bed and turn on the radio. A few minutes later, I hear a knock on the door and go to let you and your client into the room.  “Why don’t you two sit down over there and have a drink,” I suggest, pointing to the traditional two chairs separated by the small round table that appears under the window of all hotel rooms. I quickly unzip my dress, letting it fall to the floor and tuck my shoes under the bed. The man, sipping on his drink, suddenly begins to cough nervously. “Don’t worry about a thing,” I giggle. “I promise you’re going to like this.”

I cross the room to where you and the client are sitting and kneel down front of him. He reaches forward and begins to stroke my breasts, stopping to pinch my nipples and run the tips of his fingers over them.  I run my hands over his chest and arms and down to the top of his pants, stopping to unbutton them. You’re sipping your drink and nodding as I unzip is pants and help him slide them down. I reach carefully into his boxer shorts to pull out his cock which is already straining hard against the thin cotton. My fingers wrap around his stiff cock and I begin to lick up and down the shaft, stopping to lick over the top and roll my tongue around it. “Don’t forget to suck his balls,” you order, leaning forward slightly to make sure that I gently cup his balls before taking them into my mouth and sucking in a steady rhythm.

I can feel his thick cock growing bigger in my mouth. Suddenly, the client twists his fingers roughly into my hair and pulls my mouth onto his cock. “Suck it, you fucking whore,” he growls, pounding his cock hard into my mouth. He begins to breath fast and I can feel his cock stiffen as he’s about to cum. He jerks my head violently down so his cock fills my mouth to the back of my throat and I can feel his cum begin to burst out of his cock. “Suck it all, you fucking cunt!” he shouts as I suck all of his cum into my mouth. Then, he pushes me so that I fall backwards onto the floor.

“You were right, Chris,” he laughs as he pours himself another drink. “She is a just fucking slut who loves to eat cum.”

“I told you,” you smile, getting up from your chair and reaching forward to help me to my feet. I’m still a bit shaken as I cross the room to the bathroom to wash my face and hands. When I return, you pull off my slip and motion for me to lie down on the bed. 

“Chris’s told me what a sweet pussy you have,” the client says, moving from his chair to the foot of the bed. “He says your pussy gets so wet whenever you suck cock. I want to have a taste of some of that.” He sits down on the bed and shoves me back so that my head is up against the headboard. He grabs my ankles and pushes my legs wide apart as he leans forward and pushes his face into my pussy. I can feel his tongue move slowly from the top of my clit down into my pussy. I begin to moan as he thrusts his tongue in and out of my pussy. I’m straining forward, trying to get him to hit my clit as he’s licking. 

“What’s this? Not enough for your hungry little cunt?” He sneers. “I’ll give you want you want when I’m ready to.” He continues to fuck my pussy with his tongue, enjoying my desperate moans. The client motions to you. “Hey, Chris. This bitch loves to eat cum. Why don’t you come on over here and let her take care of you?”

You move from your chair to the side of the bed and pull out your cock, which is already stiff from watching the client eat my pussy so recklessly. You cock is inches away from my lips and I’m straining forward to take it into my mouth, but I can’t reach you. “Beg for it, slut!” You laugh. 

“Please…please…now,” I say breathlessly. “I need to taste your cock. Please, Chris, fuck my mouth.” After what feels like an eternity, you inch your cock forward so that I can close my mouth over it, sucking it as far into my mouth as I can, loving its feel against my tongue.”  

Finally, the client takes my clit into his mouth and sucks hard. You watch as my body stiffens, I’m about to cum. “You are a fucking whore.” Your voice is cruel as you slam your cock in and out of my mouth, fucking it like a pussy. “You’ll cum for anyone, won’t you?” I don’t want to cum, I’m trying to hold back, but I can’t. My body shudders as I cum into the client’s mouth, my clit throbbing against his tongue.

You reach down and move my mouth away from you cock so that I can suck your balls. I’m so lost in my pleasure; I don’t notice that the client has moved off the bed. He’s sitting back in his chair, watching me suck your balls, stroking his own cock which is beginning to become hard again.

“I’m going to fuck her now,” you call over to the client, whose cock is now standing very stiffly against his hand as he strokes himself. “Come on over here. No sense in letting her mouth go to waste.” The client moves quickly to replace you at the side of the bed.

You roll me over onto my stomach and turn me so that I’m lying sideways across the bed, my head facing the client’s hard cock. I pull myself up onto all fours and quickly take his cock into my mouth. I feel you in back of me, your hands running up and down my back, my ass and around to the front of my pussy. You know that I need to cum again; I’m still so hot from sucking your cock. Supporting yourself with one hand, you slip the other between my legs and begin to stroke my clit in small, deliberate circles as you push the tip of your cock against my pussy.

I moan loudly as you enter my pussy all at once, thrusting hard and fast inside of me. From your position on the bed, you can see me sucking the client’s cock, see his eyes watching me as I pull him deeper and deeper into my mouth. “Oh, yeah,” he breathes. “Suck that cock, you know you love to suck that cock, you fucking whore. 

“Give it to her, Chris!” He calls to you. “Fuck that cunt!” Being an accommodating businessman, you begin to pump your cock harder and harder inside my tight pussy. The sensation of your cock in my pussy and your fingers on my clit as I suck the client’s cock is indescribable. I can feel myself begin to cum hard and nearly lose my balance on the bed. “Not yet, bitch!” The client catches me under my arms and pulls me hard onto his cock. He thrusts his cock brutally down my throat and I can feel his cum shooting into my mouth. He leaves his cock inside my mouth, forcing me to keep sucking it even now when it is soft. Then he slips it out and moves back to his chair.

“I want to see her getting fucked in her ass,” he says, settling back into the chair. “Fuck that hungry little cunt. Make the slut scream for it.” 

You slip your cock out of my pussy and I can feel it pushing against my ass. Slowly you enter me, a little at a time, giving my body time to adjust until all of you is inside me. You begin to thrust your cock inside my ass deeper and deeper. “Yes! Yes!” I cry out as you fill me completely. “Fuck my ass hard, Chris! Fuck me hard!”

My body feels like it’s on fire as you pound your cock in and out of me, every nerve responding to every thrust. I look over to the client as your cock slams me so hard that my head is banging against the headboard. He is staring at my face, watching my eyes, knowing that I’m cumming, enjoying the sounds of my moans as my pussy convulses powerfully, sucking at your cock through the thin flesh that separates my ass and my pussy. He moves close to the bed, moving where he can see your final thrusts as your orgasm overtakes you can you begin cum hard inside me. 

The client is laughing as you roll off of me and lay on your back, still breathing hard. “Well, Chris, you really put the service in ‘customer service.’ I’m going to go back to my room to shower and clean up. I’ll see you downstairs.” He leans over me and kisses me softly on the forehead. “And thank you too.” 

We quickly slip into the shower together to clean up after our adventure. “I think that went well,” I giggle as I rub your shoulders and back with a soft washcloth. “I’m glad I was able to help you out this afternoon.”

After we’ve dried off and dressed, we take the elevator downstairs where the client is waiting for you so that you two can go back to your office and talk business. I drive home where my family is waiting for me to cook dinner.



The Client



Her eyes burned into the back of his head as he walked away. How could any one man be so arrogant, so cocky, such a royal prick? That he had the power and position to get away with it only made it more frustrating. No one had the right to speak to another human being the way he just spoke to her. She was not accustomed to being treated in this fashion, moreover, she had done nothing wrong. If this asshole wanted a nursemaid, it wasn't her. He expected things from her and others in her office that no other client would ever hope. He commanded them as if he owned them, as if their jobs depended on his satisfaction. The sad thing was, they did.

It wasn't a good business strategy; the firm depended on him for at least half of their business. But when times were tight, he came along. His account elevated sales to where they once were. Now that they had this, it was hard to walk away from. Even harder to bring any account to offset the percentage of sales he represented. So they all endured his abuse, her especially. She seemed to always be in the line of fire. Her boss, founding partner of the firm, was the only one capable of appeasing him. This required her to bow and scrape, much as she despised it.

She thought back to the first time she saw him. He was an imposing man, standing well above anyone around him. It wasn't just height, it was attitude. His eyes seemed to look right through her. No one else had ever had this effect on her. He with one look reduced her to a babbling schoolgirl. She had worked hard to reach this station in life. She resented him for the way he treated her. More than that she resented him for getting to her the way he did. He was never without his trappings. Always impeccably dressed, immaculately groomed. One of his suits cost more than she or any of her co-workers made in a month. He had a propensity for gold, his cufflinks, his Rolex, his cufflinks, were all the best. He admired beautiful things, and required he possess anything he saw that struck his fancy. He always looked as if he had just gotten back from some tropical holiday. Deeply tanned, with a booming voice that went right through her. After seeing him that first day, she decided she was attracted to him. She wasn't sure why, it wasn't all his trappings. Something deep inside her needed his attention. He was a commanding personality, and she knew she might be a willing subject. 

All those feelings were long ago pushed down, now she only felt loathing and hate for him. As she had done so many times before, she led him back into her boss's office. He admired her walk as she did. The legs, the firm behind, and those wonderful heels she always wore. Unbeknownst to her, she was on the list of things he admired. He would possess her, someday, somewhere. She opened the door for him, and stepped aside as he walked through. His size, his cologne, and his general scent momentarily overcame her. This man smelled of success. As he walked through the door, she regained her composure. Her boss rose to shake his hand as she shut the door. She was out to lunch when he left. Thank god for small miracles she thought. Her happiness was short lived though, her inter office line rang. It was her boss; apparently the client had forgotten some important contracts. Could she possibly stop and have these signed on her way home? As she always did, she agreed. She adored her boss, he always stood by her. She cursed under her breath when he handed her the address. Not only was he in the best hotel in town, he had the penthouse as well. Ironic she thought, not only was his nose in the air, his accommodations were as well. 

She left the office early, leaving herself enough time to get home to her husband after stopping off for the contracts. She stopped momentarily before leaving to check herself in the mirror. She still had it, even though 30 was just around the corner. The humidity had left for the time being, and her face was still framed with the long soft curls she had this morning. Her business suit was far from conservative, the skirt well above the knee. Her jacket should have been worn with some sort of blouse underneath, but she preferred its low cut neckline. She wore only a string of pearls in her ample cleavage. This particular outfit always made her feel sexy. Only her husband knew the remainder of the outfit. The suit was black, and the undergarments she wore with it were as well. The bra was tiny, holding her firm breasts tightly, pushing them up and out. She normally wore pantyhose, for the convenience aspect. She was the only one that knew what was underneath today. Black silk stockings suspended by a black garter belt. The panties were microscopic, barely covering her, but matching She arrived at the hotel late, traffic was horrible. Her nerves were shot; it had been a long week. On her way to the elevators, she noticed the lounge. A drink, she thought, just to settle my nerves. She was late already; a few more minutes wouldn't kill her. She passed a pay phone on the way, but thought better of calling her husband. She wasn't expected home for at least a few hours. 

As her eyes adjusted to the low light in the bar, she asked the bartender for her favorite poison. As the soothing alcohol washed over her, she glanced around the room. He was already coming towards her; apparently he had seen her come in. She looked up at him from her perch on the barstool, awaiting the worst. Somehow he looked different to her now. The suit was the same; she was a sucker for an Armani. His seemed to fit him better than any she had seen. He must have them custom fitted she thought. He seemed like a different person now, gone was that hard look on his face. He spoke to her gently for the first time ever. "I was worried, you were supposed to be her an hour ago,” he said. She apologized, blaming the Friday afternoon traffic. He sat down beside her, reaching for the portfolio she had laid on the bar. After looking through the contracts, he seemed confused. "These are not what we discussed today, could you come up to the room with me, I need to make a phone call to confirm." His softness and concern had touched her deeply. All the feelings she kept down were slowly creeping up on her. His eyes were intense, taking in all in front of him quickly. She wished they were on her, instead of on the papers in front of him. Suddenly she heard him speak to her again, "Here's the room key, finish your drink and meet me." 

Before she could speak, he was gone. She spent the next few minutes trying to regain her composure. She was feeling flushed, not just from the cocktail, but from him. She had never seen this side of him before. This was the way she hoped he would be. Seeing him like this, acting like a human being, reaffirmed her attractions to him, her desires. Her mind was running away on her now, she needed another drink. She ordered and caught the elevator to his suite. She felt funny just letting herself into the room. 

As the door opened, she saw him seated on the couch. He waved her in, and returned to his phone call. She wasn't sure whether she should sit down or not. She elected to sit at the small table, her silk stockings rubbed against themselves as she crossed her legs. Maybe it was the alcohol, but she didn't reach to adjust her skirt as she always did. It crept up the extra inch or two, showing the lace tops of her stockings. As she looked out the window, taking in the incredible view, the client also took in her view. She was content, this was an incredible suite, and the view was beautiful. It was so nice to see him like this, a normal person. She decided he wasn't so bad after all just had a different face for business. She liked this one much better. She was happy to see he had removed his jacket, showing his broad chest and shoulders. The tie was undone now also, he looked much softer to her. He spoke in soft tones; the hard edge to his voice was gone now. She listened to his end of the conversation, his deep tones vibrating in her ears.

He hung up the phone, only to have it ring again. He smiled at her, gesturing to the bar on the other side of the room. She rose, realizing she was working up to a nice buzz. Her legs felt a touch on the shaky side as she went to pour herself a third drink. She saw the bottle of Jack Daniel's out and opened, she fixed him another also. Before she had a chance to turn around, his thundering voice echoed through the room. Someone had obviously upset him, the man she knew from the office had returned. She pitied the poor fool on the other end of the phone. She knew how his wrath could cause the strongest of people to wither into nothing. She recovered from her initial shock, happy that for once his anger was not directed at her. She crossed the room and set his drink down next to him.

She got some rather strange pleasure witnessing one of his tirades, while not being the object of his anger. While she felt sorry for the poor fool on the other end of the phone, this was a welcome change. She smugly turned toward the view again, bending over to rest her elbows on the window ledge. She felt his eyes on her, and she pushed her firm behind out further still. He was still ranting and raving, but he couldn't tear his eyes from her. He had noticed her before, admired her figure, her long curls. But now she almost seemed in reach. They were away from the office; all of the airs they had to put on there were gone. 

The alcohol was really starting to take its toll on her now. She felt a warm fuzzy feeling, along with a stirring between her silk encased thighs. For some reason unbeknownst to her, her nipples were taught and aching. They brushed against the lace of her bra, she tensed with pleasure each time she moved. Her mind was in a fog now, all she could think of was the feeling coming over her. Each cocktail had washed away another layer of her inhibitions. She felt empowered, in charge, she could have this man any way she wanted. 

She turned and faced him, wiping a small bead of perspiration from her upper lip. He stood, still on the phone, gesturing wildly. He wasn't looking at her, he was rifling through the contracts on the couch in front of him. She wanted his attention; she needed to feel his eyes on her. She sighed, hoping to draw his gaze. He looked up for a moment, only to find her fondling the top button on her jacket. This held his attention, and he met her gaze. She pushed her silken curls back off her face, fanning herself, gesturing that she was hot. He stood silent, not sure what she wanted him to do. Something the party on the phone said angered him further still, he shouted back at them. She knew her time had come, she knew how to draw a man's attention.

She stood before him, almost posing. Her back was straight, her shoulders pulled back stretching the jacket tight against her breasts. She placed her black patent leather heels apart on the deep pile of the carpet beneath her, and steadied a gaze at him. His eyes rose to meet her pose, her fingers went to the first button on her jacket again. She didn't fondle it this time, it popped free of the jacket in her fingers. She continued yet lower, undoing each button slowly, never tearing her eyes from his. He wasn't sure what she was doing, but he was more than willing to watch. The party on the other end of the phone must have been making excuses a mile a minute. He held the receiver to his ear, but paid no attention. 

When she had finally reached the final button on her double-breasted jacket, it only parted slightly. Showing him her deep cleavage, just a glimpse of the tiny black lace bra, and her firm tummy. He watched her hands run up her hips to the lapels of her jacket. She grasped each one now, pulling it open, showing him her taut nipples pushing up against the black lace. He watched her breasts rise and fall with her breathing. She was in danger of falling out of this tiny garment should she happen to breathe any faster. With one fluid motion, the jacket fell from her body. The satin lay in a pool on the floor at her feet. Her hands were at her breasts now, covering them with her palms. She looked at him wantonly as she palmed her firm flesh. The nipples pushed back against her palms, so hard now that they ached. 

She wasn't sure why she had revealed herself to him like this. It felt right, holding his attention, arousing him. For once she was in control, she was in charge. This outfit drove her crazy every time she wore it. Now finally she was displaying it to the hungry eyes of a strange man, teasing him, driving him beyond reason, beyond conscience. Nothing else outside these walls mattered, only his eyes on her and the growing desire welling inside her. The power intoxicated her; she reached for the zipper on her skirt and thought better of it. She turned to the small table in front of the window. She placed one hand on the surface, while the other traced a line up the back of her thigh. She had bent over slightly, pulling the skirt up further when her fingers reached the hem. She looked at him over her bare shoulder, tossing her hair to one side. As she gently pulled the skirt up, she revealed more and more of what lay beneath. The lace tops of her silk stockings, the satin stays of her garter belt, the smooth flesh of her ass. He couldn't see the panties from this angle, for they had no back. She had felt the satin lining of her skirt rubbing against her bare buttocks all day, the g-string resting firmly in the cleft of her ass. She was forever adjusting these, it never felt right. But now the string lay in the valley of her desire, and she reached to pull it tighter still against her gushing flower. 

She turned to face him again, her hands finally going to the zipper on the back of her skirt. It fell from her body to her ankles. She stepped from it, kicking it off to the corner of the room. He was sitting on the couch now, facing her, his jaw in his lap. She walked to him as he devoured her with his eyes. She ran her fingers through her hair, taking a deep breath and thrusting her full breasts out to him. She turned now, fingers still tangled in her curls, and showed him the delicate curve of her ass. He reached out to touch her, only to have her step away from him. She shook her finger at him, then took his hands and gently placed them in his lap. 

He had no hope of continuing his telephone conversation now. He hung up on the other party in mid sentence. She was sure they wouldn't complain, being spared his wrath. Apparently this woman only wanted him to look, and he could definitely think of worse fates. She asked him to sit on his hands, and to make sure to keep them to himself. He complied without question, she owned him now. He was not accustomed to surrendering control, but in this case an exception seemed the only way. He only hoped that she desired him as he did her.

From where he sat on the couch, he watched hungrily as she continued to run her hands down her firm flesh. He watched her crimson nails trace lines from the tops of her stockings up her hips to pull on her panties gently. She rocked her hips forward as she did this, further pulling the flimsy garment into her folds. She came to him again, making sure his hands were where she had asked. She pushed him back on the couch, climbing on top of him. She placed her knees on either side of him, trapping his wrists between her stockinged thighs and his own. She knelt upright, towering over him for the first time. His eyes fell to her breasts again; he longed to bury his face there. She didn't make him wait long; she reached for the small clasp of her bra. She shrugged free of the garment and caught her breasts in her hands. She closed her eyes for a moment and bit her lip. To finally feel flesh against flesh, even though it was her own hands, swept her away for a moment. Her nipples ached, they needed attention, her need was urgent. 

She tore her hands away from her breasts and reached for him. She gently caressed his face, holding it between her small hands. She kissed him briefly, and then pulled his face to her breasts. She felt her panties dampen further as his lips closed around her nipple. His teeth grazed her nipple, biting gently. She threw her head back and let out a low moan. Her desire had become so urgent, that having only one of her breasts attended to was not enough. She caught the other nipple between her fingers and twisted gently. He kept trying to rub the throbbing bulge in his pleated slacks up against her. She continued the tease, desiring him to only service her needs now. Each time she felt him thrust upward, she moved away. She kept his face pressed to her breast tightly however, her head spinning as his tongue circled her nipple repeatedly. 

Her nipple popped from his mouth, startling him. She stood again now, her hands going to her hips. She gently eased the panties from her, feeling the emptiness in her folds as she pulled them free. Her desire was gushing from her now, she felt it run down the inside of her thigh. She held the small black panties for him to see, asking him if he was proud of himself. He had affected her deeply, and she ran the garment down the side of his face to prove it. Her scent intoxicated him, the panties were soaked. She took them away entirely too quickly for him. He couldn't get enough of her, of her scent. She didn't disappoint him; he watched her climb on to the couch again. She didn't kneel this time however; she stood with a spiked heel on each side of him. She grabbed him by the hair, and pulled his face to her. 

Placing one foot on the back of the couch, she opened her thighs enough for him to bury his face there. She held his face while she rubbed her moist opening over his lips. He lapped up all the honey oozing from her, afraid that if he didn't, he might drown in her desire. His tongue captured every drop clinging to her soft curls, every drop escaping down the inside of her thigh. He didn't finish quickly enough for her. She pulled on his hair sharply, grinding her hips into his mouth. After the way she had teased herself for so long, she needed his lips on her. She spasmed violently as his lips closed around her taut clit. Now that she finally had him where she wanted him, she held his face between her thighs. She felt his tongue sweep through her folds, always returning back to her clit. This man was worshipping her with his mouth, leaving no fold untouched. She felt her climax building, her muscles tensing. 

She was humping this poor mans face at a fevered pitch now. She could feel her orgasm coming, it tore through her violently. She held her breath as it washed over her. His mouth moved to her opening, trying to catch the torrent gushing forth from her. She felt his tongue slide up inside her, coaxing the last of her orgasm from her. Her grip on his hair loosened now, but his face remained at the mouth of her desire. He lapped every bit of her womanhood. Gently, slowly and thoroughly he washed her with his tongue. She finally released him, stepping from the couch. She turned and walked back to where her clothes lay on the floor. 

She heard him get up, and turned to ask him if there was something she could help him with. It was then that he realized she had no intention of continuing. There was no way he would release her now. His throbbing cock was threatening to tear through his pants. He grabbed her arm and spun her around. He pulled her to him, grabbing a handful of her ass as he did. She tried to push him away; she was finished and had no further use for him. The tease had gone on long enough, he demanded satisfaction from her. 

He turned her around and bent her over the table. She was in the same position as before, with one exception. His hands were on her shoulders, holding her there. With his free hand he undid his pants. As they fell to the floor, he grabbed a handful of her hair. He told that she was his, and that like it or not, he was going to have her. He suggested that she cooperate, and follow instructions as he had. Even though she felt some fear for what was to come, she knew he wasn't kidding. Maybe this was her way of rationalizing an illicit encounter, letting herself think that she had no power over what happened. Her concerns were the furthest thing from his mind. His only concern was burying his throbbing member in the folds he had licked and sucked so thoroughly. 




The Client



With all his weight resting on the hand pressed into the small of her back, he positioned his cock at her opening. She had no hope of escape, once impaled she would be his. He wasted no time with preliminaries, burying himself to the hilt on the first thrust. She screamed at the intrusion, he was tearing her in two. He withdrew as quickly, and then thrust deeply into her again. She couldn't catch her breath; she had never before been filled so completely. She rose off the table, resting her weight on her hands. She lifted her hips to meet his thrusts. He held her hips tightly between his huge hands, pulling her to him as he slammed into her repeatedly. He was her hand go between her legs, thinking that she was planning on pleasuring herself. Instead he felt her hand on his balls, cradling them in her grasp as he defiled her. This put him close to the edge, he was in danger of coming. 

He had no intention of letting her achieve any gratification from it. He pulled himself from her abruptly, and grabbed her arm to turn her around. He pushed her to her knees, grabbing her by the hair again. Holding his pulsing member in his hand, he guided it to her lips. He pushed past her lips to the back of her throat. She took his balls in her hand again now, swirling her tongue over his cock as she did so. He pistoned his cock in and out of her mouth, never giving her a chance to adjust to its length. It was all she could do to avoid choking as he pushed it to the back of her throat repeatedly. He was thrusting faster now; she hoped he was close to the edge. If this continued much longer, he would choke her on his thick cock. Just as he reached the edge, she dug her fingernails into his balls. He cried out, half in pain, half in orgasm. She swallowed quickly; afraid he might drown her. He was buried so deep that he was squirting right down her throat. She couldn't taste his cum; she could only feel his offering sliding down her throat. She pulled on his balls, coaxing the last bit from his organ. 

He released her, and quickly tucked his spent cock back into his pleated pants. He was back to business now, almost as if nothing had happened. He went back to his contracts, flipping through the pages quickly. He turned to ask her where she had put the others. She was where he had left her, kneeling next to the table, licking the last of his cum from her lips. She was flushed deeply, and breathing deeper. He asked if something was wrong, suddenly concerned for her. She rose silently, going about to gather her clothes. He put down the contracts now; he knew she was a married woman. Perhaps the guilt had just come over her now that the afterglow had worn off. He asked again, was everything all right? "No," she said, "you just lived up to everything I ever thought of you." He momentarily took her statement as a compliment, until she finished her thought. "You are a selfish bastard."



The Client



It's getting close to the end of your shift on Friday. Its actually your off but your boss had asked you to come in. All you can think about is leaving work when you get a call from your boss again. Tempted not to answer it, but you think better of it and pick up the phone. He tells you he needs a big favor, he is to meet with the client over dinner to explain the new retention plan. Unfortunately he is very sick and can not make it. Much of the retention plan involves your new incentive program so he sees you as an obvious replacement. In addition to explaining the plan, your boss needs you to negotiate how much of the cost of the plan the client's company is willing cover. He tells you to meet Mr. Peterson at his hotel; he is staying in room 728. You are frustrated because you had plans to go out with your friends that evening but your boss isn't letting you say, no. Your white skirt and sexy black top really isn't what you would wear to business dinner but there is no time to go home and change so it will have to do.

You finally get to the hotel, you're a little late cause traffic was horrible. Looking around the lobby you don't see your client anywhere. Worried he might have got tried of waiting; so you decided to find a house phone and call his room. He apologies to you actually for not being in the lobby. He explains he is waiting for an important phone call and tells you to come up to his room. You are a little hesitant, but he really has given you no choice, he has already hung-up. 

You knock on his door and he lets you in. You pretend not to notice him looking you over. You started to regret what you were wearing, as your blouse shows a lot of cleavage. He asks you to take a seat on the couch and offers you a drink. You take a seat and before you can decline his offer of a drink, he is handing you a glass of wine. Not your favorite but you think that maybe it will calm your nerves so you accept. You both engage in small talk, his stories are really making you laugh and before you know it your glass is gone. He pours you another drink. As you reach out to take it from his hand the glass slips and spills all over your lap. Red wine will for sure stain if you don't wash it quick so he advises you to take it off. You are starting to feel a little uncomfortable but reason what choice do you have. You can't go out to dinner in a wine stained skirt.

While you are in the bathroom standing there in your thong panties washing your skirt you hear the phone ring. It sounds like he finally got his call that he was waiting for. While he is kind of distracted you take the opportunity to walk out of the bathroom and place your skirt on the back of a chair in front of the air-con so it can dry. You have wrapped a towel around your waist to cover up and decided to sit back down on the couch. Kind of not knowing what to do next you have another glass of wine while you wait for him to get off the phone. Shortly his call ends and he takes a seat next to you on the couch. You ignore his hand on your knee has he starts to apologies for spilling wine on you. You continue to sip on your wine, now your third glass. He begins to tell you an embarrassing story of himself where he was in a similar situation. You start to wonder where this might be headed. There is an awkward moment of silence when unexpectedly Mr. Peterson begins to kiss your neck. It hits you like a bolt of lighting and you realize the situation you are in. You try to push him away but this does not stop his advances. He pulls your towel from your waist as you try to stand up and get away. Suddenly he grabs your neck. You plead "Mr. Peterson"

He forces you to look him in the eye, as he demands for you to be quiet. He tells you what you have just recently come to realize. He says he will make trouble for you at work if you resist. You will lose your job. Furthermore, you came to his room voluntarily; no one will believe your side of the story. 

Understanding the futility of your situation you chose to submit. He turns you around and bends you over face down on the table near by. Standing there bent over you feel extremely exposed as he steps back to admire your body. Without warning he grabs at your panties and rips them off. He kneels down behind you and begins to massage your body. Still frightened, however, you struggle to not enjoy the caresses of his lips against your thighs. You close your eyes as he continues to kiss you in places you could not imagine. Suddenly your body jolts as a new sensation touches you. He is running an ice cube all over your backside, stopping in the most sensitive of places. You press your body hard against the table as he slides the ice cube inside you. He pushes his hand against your thigh forcing you to open your legs a little wider. He places his tongue on the small of your back and runs it all the way down till he meets your 'lips". You grip the table tightly. Your body is engulfed with the most intense sensation as he sucks licks and kisses you into ecstasy. 

The next thing you hear is his pants dropping to the floor. You know what is coming. You can't help but let out a small moan as he penetrates you. He grips his hands around your waist driving deep inside you. He moves slowly at first but gradually builds pace. He keeps going harder and harder, bringing you waves of elation. At the monument when you think you can't take it anymore he stops. He stands you up, turns you around and looks you in the eye. You sense what he wants and drop your knees. Your hand takes a tight grip while your lip start to tease. You feel his hips thrust as you glide your lips back and forth as quickly as you can. He closes his eyes; his body starts to quiver and his knees tremble, now he is the one saying "no more". Feeling more in control you stand up and place your hand firmly on his neck. You Pull him towards you giving him a deep long kiss. Your tongue and more invade his mouth, giving him a moment he will never forget. 

You walk over to your skirt now dry and put it back on. You advise him you are texting your boss with his phone saying that he will pay for 100 percent of the retention plan. Unable to speak he nods his head and accepts. You straighten your hair in the mirror then simply walk out. A feeling of excitement comes over you as you walk out of the hotel. Even though you might have given something up, in the end you won.



The Client



My heels clicked on the pavement as I walked towards my client's front door. I liked visiting Tom - he was a bit disorganised and I was forever trying to keep his files in order, but we always had a laugh and a flirt together. 

Tom grinned as he opened the door wide.

"Well, if it isn't my favourite auditor," he said pleasantly. "Should I offer you tea or would that be considered a bribe?"

"Yes it would," I smiled.

He made tea, then we settled down to the usual business of me trying to organise his paperwork for him. As we toiled over his laptop, one of his many phones rang. He glanced at the flashing display and his face darkened.

"Get that if you need to," I told him. He hesitated, then picked up the call.

"Hi," he said brusquely. I busied myself with a file as he listened to the female voice at the other end.

"I can't," he said, twiddling with some loose cotton on his jeans. "Christine is here, I told you she was coming." Another pause as he looked over at me, frowning.

"Yes I did. It doesn't matter now does it, I'm busy. I'll....." he stopped mid-sentence and sighed as he was interrupted again.

"Yes. Alright. Alright I said! Please, Lor, can't you leave me in peace for five minutes for God's sake?"

The voice became animated for several long seconds before he disconnected the call. To my amazement, he abruptly threw the phone across the room. It hit the fireplace and smashed into several pieces.

I stared at him. "What on earth is the matter?"

Tom wiped his hands over his face and took a deep, shuddering breath. Alarmed, I stood up and rested a hand on his arm. His shoulders heaved once, twice.

Forgetting I was the professional and he was my very young client, I instinctively wrapped my arms around him.

"Do you want to talk about it, or not?" I asked quietly as he allowed his head to drop down to my shoulder.

He heaved a huge shaky sigh again and I felt his arms reach around my waist.

"I have no idea what to do about her," he murmured into my neck.

I hugged him, rubbing his back. I made to break the contact, but instead of stepping back he just lifted his head and looked down at me, his arms still loosely around my waist. Our faces were suddenly very close. His eyes flickered over my face, taking in my eyes, my nose, my mouth, my skin.

"You have beautiful eyes," he said abruptly.

I was frozen in place, completely captured by his gaze.

"Thanks," I said uncertainly, allowing myself to look at his lips. They were very full and soft. I dragged my eyes away and pulled myself free of him, clearing my throat and stepping back towards our papers. "Perhaps we should get on," I said, my heart thumping uncomfortably fast.

Tom stayed where he was, watching me.

"Behave yourself," I laughed nervously, "before we do something we'll both regret."

"I wouldn't regret it," he said indignantly.

I stood in the middle of his sitting room, unsure of how to react or what to do or what not to do. He was beside me in two steps, his hand reaching for my hair, his lips moving towards mine. He kissed me once, briefly, hesitantly, pulling back to check my reaction. I could only stare at his mouth as the room started to spin slowly around us. Tom lowered his mouth onto mine and slowly slipped his tongue between my lips. He slid his arms around me and pulled me into him, pressing my body against his as he kissed me long and hard. My mind whirled with panic about cheating on my husband, doing this with a client, being unprofessional, but I was paralysed by heat and sensation as I melted with lust.

His hands began to wander as we kissed, sliding up and down my body, carefully brushing my breasts until my nipples sprang to attention. He thumbed them softly and I couldn't help but moan against his mouth and tongue. I rotated my hips against his groin and could feel he was erect.

We were panting now, clutching at one another, crushing lips and tongues and bodies together. He slid his hands under my shirt and lifted - I raised my arms and allowed him to pull it over my head. He reached back to awkwardly unclip my bra, staring for a moment in fascination at my 34G's before closing his mouth over a nipple and teasing it with his tongue. I clutched at his shaven head as the sensations gripped me, electricity crackling from my nipples to my pussy where I was growing increasingly wet.

I tugged at his shirt until buttons popped in every direction, pushing it over his shoulders and down his arms until he was bare-chested before me. I traced kisses across his collarbone and he groaned slightly as I reached for his belt buckle. I undid his jeans and pushed them down his thighs, as he unzipped my skirt and let it fall to the floor, leaving me in nothing but my black thong.

I sank to my knees in front of him, helping him to step out of his jeans as I eyed the wet looking bulge in his boxer shorts. Slowly, gently, I eased his shorts over his hips, revealing his cock. It was beautiful, smooth and circumcised and standing out proudly at a good 7 inches. The bulging head oozed pre-cum. I looked up at him and lowered my lips to his cock, floating my tongue around the head and tasting his salty fluid. He moaned and moved his hips towards me, pushing more of his meat into my mouth. I sucked him gently, sweeping my tongue around his shaft and coating his juicy prick with saliva. It slipped easily in and out of my mouth, and I caressed his buttocks with both hands as I allowed him to fuck my throat deeply.

"Stop, stop," he said hoarsely, suddenly pulling away. He grabbed my hands and pulled me to my feet, pressing my lips to his and pushing his tongue into my mouth as if to taste his own cockmeat. He slipped a hand easily between my legs, stroking the cotton of my thong and making me moan with excitement. I could feel my clit throbbing. His fingers slowly, deliberately, moved the material to one side, exposing my shaven pussy. He softly ran a finger between my swollen lips, feeling for my juices, then raised his fingers to my mouth for me to taste. Then he gently reached down again and slipped two fingers inside me, pumping them gently in and out of my cunt until my knees threatened to give way. I stroked his cock softly, feeling the wetness of the head and the hardness of him, longing for him to fuck me.

Tom went down onto one knee to watch his fingers fucking me, then he leaned forward and nuzzled his face between my legs. I cried out as he spread his tongue across my clit, my cunt tightening around his sliding fingers. He smoothed some of my juice up and around my asshole and softly started to probe at it, until he was thrusting a finger deeply into my rectum while he finger fucked my cunt and massaged my clit with his tongue.

Just as I thought I'd died and gone to heaven, he stopped and stood up. We kissed again, laughing together, before he gently turned me around and pushed me towards the sofa. Obediently I stepped over our discarded clothes and bent over the arm of the chair, tossing my long hair over my shoulder and looking back at him as I exposed my dripping pussy to my client. Tom's big, juicy erection stood out rigidly from his body, straining towards me as he approached from behind.

I moaned as he pressed the head of his prick against me, spreading my lips and causing more juices to leak from me and soak his cock. He reached down to rub my clit gently, moistening his fingers once more with my pussy juice and working it up the crack of my ass. He increased the pressure and with a sudden thrust his thick cock plunged deeply into my wet cunt, just as he worked a finger up my ass. He started to move his hips rhythmically, groaning as he fucked me. I felt mad with lust and felt every inch of his cock as it worked in and out of me, the finger pushing into my ass painful yet pleasurable at the same time. I was moaning loudly now, and found myself reaching down to rub my swollen clit. I barely had to circle it more than a couple of my times with my finger before I could feel my pussy tighten around his cock. 

"Tom," I gasped, "I'm gonna come!" I stopped rubbing my clit and gripped the arm of the sofa, pushing my hips back to receive his cock more deeply into my spasming cunt. I bit down on my lip but hardly kept from yelling as my orgasm ripped through me, feeling Tom's juicy prick plunging into my gripping muscles and his finger working my asshole as I came. Juices squirted from me, soaking his cock and balls as I totally lost control.

Only Tom's hand's around my hips stopped me from collapsing as I recovered. He was still rock hard and fucking my twitching pussy as I leaned against the sofa, panting. He abruptly pulled out and moved round so he was standing in front of me again, offering up his gleaming cock to my lips.

"Do you want to come in my mouth?" I asked him huskily, closing my hand around his wet shaft and cradling his cock on my tongue. He smiled down at me, breathing hard.

"Not yet," he said, stroking my cheek and pushing my hair back from my face.

"Suck me again, just for a minute. You have a great mouth for sucking cock."

Obligingly I sucked his full length back into my mouth, tasting his saltiness and the sweetness of my own pussy. I watched his face as the head of his prick touched the back of my throat, never allowing myself to gag. He closed his eyes as I deep throated him, loving the sensation of his male meat fucking my mouth. I felt his cock throb and swell as I brought him dangerously close, then eased him out of my mouth. I gave him a few seconds then closed my lips around him once more, sucking and teasing him with my tongue until he swelled in my mouth and I released him again.

I moved to a sitting position on the sofa and he knelt in front of me. He pushed a hand between my legs and fingered my well-fucked cunt a little, stroking and rubbing until my clit had swollen and I was panting once more. Then he put his hands behind my knees and spread my legs wide apart, watching in fascination as my pussy leaked juice down onto his leather sofa.

"Fuck me," I begged him, "Fuck me hard."

His straining prick was positioned directly in front of my wanton cunt. With one move of his hips his cock once again plunged into my pussy. He sank all the way to the bottom until his balls rested against my ass. He stared down into my eyes as he filled me up with his cockmeat, eventually pulling all the way out until just the head of his cock was resting inside me.

"You want to be fucked hard?" he asked. 

"Yes," I gasped.

He positioned himself more comfortably on his knees, pulled my legs over his shoulders then started fucking my pussy with long, firm, deep strokes. He steadily increased the tempo until his cock was ramming into me so hard I could barely breathe. I could feel everything tightening as he fucked me so ruthlessly, and cried out in pain as he put all his weight behind his thrusts. I was getting well and truly fucked by one of my own clients and I was loving it.

Gradually he slowed as he neared his orgasm, his sweat dripping down onto my tits. His prick swelled inside me.

"Come for me again sweetheart," he muttered, allowing one of my legs to fall to one side as he reached to thumb my clit. His cock felt rigid and huge as he pumped my pussy slowly, massaging my clit and watching me.

My whole body tensed again as I felt my second orgasm building. I held my breath and then allowed myself to explode, my cunt walls clamping around his rigid prick. Tom groaned and grasped my hips, plunging his cock into me as deep as he could go as he started to spurt. Jet after jet of hot creamy come filled me up, his still hard cock continuing to fuck me and forcing his come to run out of my pussy.

Tom seemed to come forever, finally slipping out of me when he was spent. He sat between my legs, smiling contentedly and playing with my clit and pussy as his thick, ropey cream dribbled out between my swollen lips.

"I really must play the vulnerable, confused boyfriend more often........"



The Client



It may be a perverted taste, but I love prostitution, and for itself too, quite apart from its carnal aspects. My heart begins to pound every time I see one of those women in low-cut dresses walking under the lamplight in the rain, just as monks in their corded robes have always excited some deep, ascetic corner of my soul. The idea of prostitution is a meeting place of so many elements – lust, bitterness, complete absence of human contact, muscular frenzy, the clink of gold – that to peer into it deeply makes one reel. One learns so many things in a brothel, and feels such sadness, and dreams so longingly of love!

-- Gustave Flaubert

I lay down on a bed in a strange room and a woman I met less than five minutes ago is standing beside the bed and she is undressing. She is beautiful in a rough and used way and in a moment she will join me on the bed and look at me and smile, kiss my chest and lick my nipples and then she will make her way down my body and begin to suck my cock. This is a moment I have lived many times. 

Visiting prostitutes is my secret life. Secrecy is part of the pleasure, a key part, and without it, I would not bother.  Secrecy is a necessity, to keep this from family and friends, but it is also an essential ingredient of the eroticism of the experience of buying sex and enjoying the pleasures of bought sex. 

‘Whore' is not a nice word to most people, but to me it is, and when I refer to those dark ladies of the night, who occupy the dark and secret corners of my life, and the dark centre of my erotic memories and desires, I mean it as a term of affection. It is the word I will most often use in this memoir.

I have been enjoying the pleasures of whores ever since I was eighteen. With them I have grown up sexually. I began by dipping my toes into the waters of my own deepest and darkest fantasies and progressed, slowly, to a time when I would dive in and swim down to the bottom to discover what was there. I have grown up with them, and I have grown beyond what I would have become erotically and sexually without them. I have never kept count, so I do not know how many prostitutes I have known, but I am sure it is more than two hundred. If I began at eighteen or nineteen, that is just over eight new ones every year. Most I only had once; a few a few times, even fewer up to ten times, and Carmen probably twenty times or so, Ipek, more than thirty. Prostitution has also given me the chance to have types of women I would not very easily have met in real life. The only black and Indian and Pakistani women I have enjoyed erotically were all prostitutes. On the street I desired such women from afar, but had no means of meeting and getting to know them.

I have spent not a little money on it over the years, though I am lucky in that I have always been able to afford to indulge my desire; and my taste is for the cheap end of the market, and I like my whores in their 30s and 40s and a few in their 50s, slutty, tarty and trashy; as well as likeable and lovable and fun and interesting to get to know. After all, what is the point of a whore who does not walk, talk, act and fuck like a whore? I do not go for the so-called ‘GFE' or ‘girlfriend experience' of prostitute review sites. The best have been both. Friends and fuck fantasies made flesh and enjoyed, over and over again, without any diminishment of the exquisite pleasures they give me. So I have enjoyed women who sell themselves cheap, and who often look cheap and trashy and rough, for that is what excites me; but I believe that as people they are all far from being cheap, and with many of them I have enjoyed pleasures that are rare and of great value to me.

There are many reasons why I love to have sex with prostitutes, and one of them is that I love prostitutes. The thought of them excites me in the very depths of my soul, and like Flaubert, I have learned more about life and love and joy and sadness from prostitutes. My experiences with them have taught me more than any other experiences that I have had. Fucking whores is the essence of eroticism to me and when I am doing it during a meeting with one that goes well, I feel more alive than at any other moment. I love the idea of prostitution, the practice of it; the very fact of its existence, and I love the women who do it. I love to hold their worn and over used bodies as I fuck them, and I never hesitate to go down on them and lick out their pussies and rim them when I am invited to.

None of this is to say that I have not had very satisfying sexual relationships with girlfriends, casual lovers, brief encountresses and now my wife. Yes, I am married and have been for over two years and I have not stopped visiting prostitutes, as I do not want to. Indeed, I think I can't; I know I can't. Thus, I do not visit prostitutes because I do not or never have been unable to have sex in more conventional ways. I have always found it easy to meet and attract women, but I have always continued to visit prostitutes when I was having relationships. 

I have never been caught. I have had to make sure that I never was; because I wanted to have girlfriends and I loved and cared for them, but visiting whores and fucking them and having them sit on my face and piss over me and fucking their arses and all of the other things I have done with them, are part of who I am; and even if that has not come about as a result of nature, it has been born of years of visiting them. And those visits were born of a desire deep within me; and another word for desire is need. I need whores as I need the air I breathe.  I do not expect the experience of having sex with a prostitute to be the same as having sex with my wife; or before I married, with a girlfriend, and I do not want it to be. Why would I go out and pay for what I can have at home?

I like women, as well as desire them. More of my friends are women than men. I don't really know why, but I often prefer the company of women to the company of men. I have a magnificent sex life with my wife, who I love deeply and who is my best friend, and of whose company I never tire. I have looked for different things in the women with whom I have had relationships and the whores I have known, and find different things in them. The whores and my desire for them is no threat to my love and desire for my wife, except in the element of betrayal; for betrayal it is. Some clients will say ‘whores don't count,' but I don't buy that line. It is using the fact of the exchange of money, the rhetoric of ‘business', to pretend that no emotions and needs were involved. It is no justification, and my only justification of my visiting whores, which I have always done when the desire for it was in me, is that I choose not to stop doing it, though ‘choose' is a difficult word, because I do not have a choice in the matter in the same way that I can choose whether to have the steak of the fish in a restaurant. I am guided to prostitutes by forces that lie deep, deep within me, and which even now I do not fully understand or know the origin of, other than that I love sex and I love erotic exploration and adventure, and I love women.

In his novel the Unbearable Lightness of Being, Milan Kundera distinguishes between what he calls the lyric womaniser and the epic womaniser. The former is driven by the desire to capture the essence of femininity, which he might find in some particular woman, who will become for him the ideal woman. Kundera's narrator identifies him with one of the characters in the novel, Franz, and is dismissive of him. So am I. He wants to be endearing and to be forgiven by women for his weakness for women. And, according to Kundera, this type is forgiven. The epic womaniser does not believe in the essence of femininity or the possibility of an ideal woman who could embody or be the essence of femininity. Rather, he wishes to experience erotically every different type of woman and of femininity that he can. And for this, he is not forgiven.

If I am a womaniser, I am the epic type, if I may be permitted to take such a grand sounding name to myself. I have known a great many women in real life, and a great many prostitutes, and always I am guided by the desire for a new women and the pleasure of possessing her body and entering her for the first time. In my secret life, I have fucked fat women and thin women, young women, middle aged women and old women, white women and brown women and black women, housewife types and women impossibly exotic looking, blonde women and dark women; but I will never exhaust my desire for something in the great sphere of femininity that I have never experienced before, and those prostitutes I have gone back to again and again were the ones I liked as people and became attached to. In moments of indulgence I thought of them as women with whom I have erotic friendships; another term I borrow from Kundera.

Some women I have loved, girlfriends over the years, some of them of years' standing as girlfriends, before I met my wife; and I think I must have fallen in love with two of the prostitutes I have known: Carmen and Ipek. I handled it though; never forgetting what was available from them and on what terms, and what was not. I wanted more and dreamed of having more, but what passes in a room between a man and woman, a man pursuing erotic adventures and a woman providing them in exchange or money, does not necessarily translate into a relationship, and a relationship would change what could happen in a room between them as client and prostitute. But there is something that might be strange. Sometimes, when a relationship has been in a bad patch and the sex has gone off the boil or desires frozen away completely, a visit to a prostitute has enabled me to initiate a recovering of the sexual aspect of a failing relationship. Sex with prostitutes never suffers from the lapses and diminishments and absences of desire that haunt and destroy relationships. With a whore, there is nothing to get in the way of sex and eroticism.

My first time was in Soho, London, in Lisle Street, in what is called a walk up. There is a tatty sign above a door that leads to a flight of stairs, from which a dim and seedy red light palely glows. These stairs can lead to heaven or hell, and most often both, for a whore's room is heaven in hell and hell in heaven I had walked up the stairs of many walk ups before that day, but turned and walk briskly away in fear, but it was only a matter of time. I could not but keep on going back, and one day I walked up and I was about to turn and go, when the maid, a woman in her fifties, opened the door at the top and told me to come in, and so I went in. This was in the early 1980s, when I was young and there were still many French ladies in Soho, most of whom were in their 30s and 40s, and the lady who introduced me to the delights of prostitutes was such a French lady, who was I imagine in her early forties, and she was gorgeous in the way that only a middle aged prostitute can be, and her name was Kiki. I paid her fifteen pounds and she sucked my nipples and kissed and licked my chest, and she sucked my cock without a condom and then put a condom on me and I fucked her and it was divine. That was 23 or 24 years ago.

My most recent was a couple of weeks ago, in the genelev, or public brothel, in Istanbul, Turkey, with a lady of 34 called Ezgi (which in English means ‘Melody'), and she was beautiful, in the trashy way that I love whores to be. Slim and curvy, with exotic, oriental features, friendly and fun and interesting to converse and drink tea with; between the two bouts of fucking that I indulged with her. I spent half an hour with her. I lay on the bed and she kissed me on the lips, her mouth open and her tongue in mine, and sucked my nipples and then kissed my chest and stomach slowly all the way down to my cock, which she sucked expertly for five minutes before putting a condom on it, using her mouth, and then riding me and allowing me to fuck her missionary and doggie until I came, all the while with my finger pushed inside her arsehole. Then after tea, we did it all again. She was lovely and I will visit her again and she will be my new regular lady. I have been in Istanbul for just under a year and she was my fifth lady in the genelev in Karakoy. I was looking for a lady to stick with, and although the other four were worth fucking the once, once was enough. One of them invited me to fuck her arse, which I delightedly did, as I adore anal sex and never more than with whores. But neither she, nor the other three, bewitched me, as Ezgi did.

My earliest experiences were all with older ladies of Soho, and as I became more confident, the more I relaxed and enjoyed my time with them. I don't remember them all now, but the memory of some of them had been burned onto my soul forever.

I remember a heavy and painted Italian lady in her mid forties, when I was 23 or so, who I paid for French (oral sex) and a little extra, to watch her play with her pussy, in a Soho walk up. ‘Nice pussy,' she purred as she knelt on the bed, stretching open her juicy great cunt lips, before throwing herself forward and swallowing my cock. I did not fuck her then, and I can't remember why, but around that time; it was the mid 80's, I had a phase of paying prostitutes to allow me to watch them masturbate and suck me off. Maybe it was the fear of Aids at that time in the 80s. By the way, in all my years of whores, I have never caught any venereal diseases.

It was about that time that I first experimented with watersports. My first experiences of the golden art were watching a few of my tarts pissing, and the first of all was a middle aged Soho lady who emptied a great flow of her golden rain into a bucket while I watched, and kept on repeating the phrase ‘nice wee, wee,' as she did it. And indeed it was nice. I had visited her before, and had French and sex with her, a couple of years before that day of watching a lady empty her bladder for the first time, and she was thinner then and younger looking. She seemed to have aged by more than the number of years since I had last seen her. She was heavier, and she had started to look, sometimes, like the saucy and sexy mother of your friend who lives down the street, and who you secretly want to fuck; not because she is glamorous, but because she is not, and she is your neighbour and your friends mother and there is something of the auntie about her. After her pissing and before sucking me off, she told me that she had another client for whom she would do the same thing, but that she would also have to make him drink it. ‘Makes me heave,' she said, but after many more years I would get to where my predecessor was, and drink it, straight from the gushing cunts of other whores. 

Only two other whores besides Ezgi have bewitched me as Ezgi has. One was a lady named Carmen who was Spanish and who worked in a walk up in Frith Street in Soho at the Oxford Street End. She told me that she was 43, and I visited her many times over five or so years. She must have passed from 39 to 44 in that time, while I went from 28 to 33. She was magnificent; lover, mother, sister, friend, Goddess. 

Carmen was the first woman to piss over my body and she performed the golden art on me expertly. I had longed to be pissed over by a middle aged woman for as long as I could remember, and by the time I was 29 or 30, I had more than ten years of experience of visiting prostitutes, and I had found the courage to be wholly frank with myself and them by then about what I desired; more frank than with women I have known and had relationships with. 

The first time that I asked Carmen to do it, it was in addition to the usual service I bought from her. That was a body massage, and cock sucking, which always included her sucking my bollocks; her party piece, or signature as I like to say. All whores have one; some little trick that is theirs and which they perform expertly. Carmen was a superb cock sucker; superb even though she did it with a condom on me. She gobbled so well and her mouth was so warm, it felt like I was being sucked off bareback. The cock sucking was always followed by a fuck and her wonderful dirty talk; a filthy commentary in which she told me what to do to her and what a wild and filthy cock loving whore she was, while my cock fucked her gorgeous cunt, until I filled the condom with spunk. ‘Fuck my pussy. Give me all your spunk,' she would always cry out at me when she knew I was about to blow into her cunt. But of course it was the condom that every time got the cum blast; and it always was a blast, for this lady excited me beyond almost all other experiences I had had.

The day she pissed over me for the first time, we did the pissing before the cock sucking and the fucking. She laid a black plastic sheet on the floor and had me lie on it naked. She stood over me, squatting slightly forward and looking down. She asked me would I like her to hold her cunt open and I told her yes and she stretched her lips wide open and even pointed to her peehole, in case I did not know exactly where it was. My eyes fixed on her peehole and her cunt, hanging above my cock, where she was going to relieve herself and I was harder than I had ever been before.

Then at last it came, after she had strained for a minute or so. The sensation of the first splashes of her golden piss jet on my cock, followed by the full flow that lasted a minute or more was sublime. The sight of her piss gushing cunt, of her poised over me and looking down, and the warmth of her golden rain on my throbbing cock was the first time I was truly taken to the realm of the erotic; a place I had known existed, deep in my soul; and at last I had found the way to it. When her piss flow subsided, I was soaked in it and it was a most wonderful feeling.

I stopped seeing Carmen because I left England for Turkey. I visited Carmen once after leaving England. It was a year after I had left, and one of the last things I had done before leaving England was to visit Carmen and enjoy her piss and fuck her for what might have been the last time. It was not, as I saw her once more, the following summer, when I was back visiting England on holiday. She looked more than a year older; age was catching up with her, but she pissed and sucked and fucked as deliciously as ever; though I knew it was going to be the last time. I had moved on.

About four years after that; and even though every year in between I had been back to England and had at least one and often two prostitutes during my stay, I had not visited her. One day, five years after I had left England and fucked her goodbye; only to fuck her again the next year in what turned out to be the goodbye, I saw her name card on the wall inside the door of the old flat and went and knocked on a whim. She would have been 48 or 49 by then, but it was early in the afternoon and she had not arrived yet. I waited around outside, a discreet distance away, to see if she would come. I was meeting a friend and had little time, and she had not arrived by the time I had to leave. 

Since Carmen I think at least twenty other prostitutes have pleasured me with their piss. A notable one was about four years ago now, and she was also my one and only south-east Asian lady. She was called Isabella and she worked in Soho too. She was forty and very beautiful and very oriental looking. She had coffee coloured skin and jet black hair, cut quite short. She squatted over me as I sat on the bidet and sprayed my cock with an ocean of piss, holding her cunt open the whole time and telling me to savour her champagne. Then she sucked me off and rode me, still sitting there on the bidet. She had magnificent nipples; they must have been three quarters of an inch long, and she pushed them into my mouth and made me suck them as she rode my cock with her hot and tight pussy.




The Client



The most recent piss shower I have enjoyed was with a lady of 34 called Mandy, also of Frith Street, who claimed never to have done watersports before, although she had been working as a prostitute for a year, as she told me. She said afterwards that she had enjoyed it and asked me to return. That was a year ago, and Mandy was the last lady I had in England, but she will not be the last.

With her I sat on the floor, again on a black plastic sheet. I asked her to do it on my cock, and that was where her spray of piss went first, but I moved forward so that it was hitting my chest and then I finally did what I had been longing to do with a whore for a long time and opened my mouth so that she was pissing right down my throat. I genuinely drank it all, and it did turn her on. I could tell by the look of surprise and pleasure on her face as she looked down at me. She allowed me to lick clean of piss drips her cunt lips, which were two of the slimmest, longest, most delicate looking and most magnificent I have ever sucked between my lips and into my mouth, when her flow was done. Her cunt tasted delicious; fresh, salty and clean.

After cleaning up she sucked my cock beautifully and I fucked her doggy style and then in the missionary position, because I wanted to look at her face and into her eyes as my cock slide in and out of her pussy. I sucked her tits while I fucked her until I filled the condom with cum. A half hour of bliss enjoyed for sixty pounds, and to be another fragment of my erotic memory forever.

A lady called Angie, who worked at the same flat, though on different days, from Carmen, and who I visited during the Carmen years. She was a London girl and a sexier version of the girl who lives next door to you, and about my own age, so a bit of a rarity, as I usually go for mature ladies. Angie was beautiful and voluptuous and had the perfect courtesan's figure, with large breasts and a round arse and for me the finishing touch: luscious, though not large rolls of flesh around her stomach. She was the prostitute among the many I have known who seemed to enjoy it most and if she did not cum on several occasions when I was with her, then she is a fine actress. Of course, a good whore is always a good actress, and I have never expected a prostitute to enjoy the sex as I enjoy it, but if she did, then it is all the better.

A lovely, slim blonde French Lady of fifty (and looked it with her skin that was beginning to be a little dry and wrinkled, and the bony look that comes to older women who are slim) in Soho, who one sweltering summer's day in some summer in the mid 1980s, sucked my cock until my cum rained over her face, as both of our bodies, mine naked and standing before her, hers seated in a chair and clad in sheer black stockings and suspenders, ran with sweat in the searing heat. 

‘It's ninety degrees in my kitchen,' 

she told me when we were chatting just after I arrived. She increased the temperature by another ninety degrees as her expert lips worked my throbbing knob and her hot saliva ran down my shaft and onto my balls and her soft warm lips and her snake of a tongue pleasured my cock until it emptied itself over her lips and her chin. If she is still alive, she would be over seventy. I wonder where she is now. I know that if I met her again she would not remember me, but I have not forgotten her, and if I could have her suck me off again now, I would pay whatever she asked.

A trashy South London lady of forty or so, with home drawn tattoos and dirty blonde hair, with whom in a South-east London somewhere, I had my second watersports experience. The memory of her golden juice pouring from her cunt onto my cock, as I admired the rough tattoos with which she had defaced her slim and worn body. Her manner, tough and cheerful, defiant perhaps, a woman whom life could never destroy and it had no doubt tried. She was divine.

A very large Black lady of 25, perhaps, in a window in Amsterdam, who came from God knows where and gobbled me off and let me spunk in her mouth and expressed surprise that I didn't want to fuck her. ‘No fuckee?' she said, as I began to dress, after the cock sucking. It was during the Aids fear phase. I am glad that I got past that terror. 

I remember another one in another window there on the same day. She was probably in her early thirties and she had milky white skin that was covered in tattoos, and she smoked in the most alluring manner I have ever seen; and I adore watching sexy women smoke. She held her cigarette in her hand and held her arm straight out and every time she took a drag she arced her arm back, taking her hand to her mouth and pulled voluptuously on her cigarette and then extended her arm back again to its full length. 

She, and not the heavy black lady who sucked my cock and received a mouthful of my spunk, is the one who inhabits my erotic memory of that far off day in Amsterdam. I made a mistake. I should have chosen her, but if I had, would I remember her with the same intensity of desire that I remember her now, not having had her? Yes, I would, but not in the same way, and the desire would burned in a different way, more slowly and I would be able to fantasize of her accurately; knowing the touch and feel of her flesh, her moves, and her signature, whatever it might be. It involves smoking in my fantasy of it.

I have learned, though, as I have got older, how to choose well, and I make few mistakes now. And that day I did not really make a mistake. The lady I visited was fine and sucked me off well, and I must have been having a black phase. But I wish that I had had the tattoo smoking lady, who represents the quintessence of whoredom to me now. Everything that is alluring and irresistible to me about whores is encapsulated in her and her lithe and illustrated body and the extravagant manner in which she smoked her cigarette. Then again, maybe it is as well that I did not, and instead, created her in my own imagination as I have. The experience itself, had I had it, might not have provided such fertile ground on which the fantasy could grow. I will never know, but there will be others who come close to what she has become. And others already have.

Of course I have also had dull experiences with prostitutes, but never a bad experience; if bad means badly treated or cheated over money. My bad experiences were no more than visits in which I did not catch fire erotically. I did not fancy the woman, and should have left and not stayed. In the Soho walk ups you don't get to see the lady before you meet her. I learned quickly that I should act on my first impulse. If I meet her and don't think it will be a good experience; an experience worth having, then politely make excuses and leave. I learned to do that early in my days as a client. And it is simple, my manner of choosing: do I fancy her, do I find the lady desirable?

I always like the search; it is perhaps the equivalent of the chase. It is the anticipation, and the feeling of joy when I happen upon a lady I desire on sight and know that I have the money in my pocket to enable me to possess her for half and hour for an hour. The Soho walks ups are ideal for that, but one must be prepared for a lot of searching and a lot of walking up and down stairs. This is a sport that requires patience. The Turkish genelevs are like canal Strasse in Amsterdam. The ladies stand in the windows and you walk around and take your pick. I take my time over it, to choose well and to prolong for as long as possible the search and the anticipation and the postponement, for a while, its fulfilment. 

These days, many more upscale prostitutes and escort agencies and massage parlours advertise on the web, and include pictures of the available ladies. I have never done it that way and I never will. I will always fall upon patience and chance, for I need the spontaneity of the moment of meeting and the rush of desire, and the conviction that it has to be her; as a counterpoint to the planning of a day to go to visit a prostitute.

Planning is most often essential, though I have spontaneously in the past, many years ago, decided to head for Soho and make a visit. These days I am more deliberate. I choose a day ahead of time and one when I have to go into the city on other business. It is not difficult to disappear for an hour or so and no one who I know goes to the genelevs or the rougher and down scale corners of the city where they are, and where people like me don't go.

Planning is essential to not being caught. When I was younger and lived in London, it was easy to slip a visit in Soho, or around South London, the area of London when I lived in to the course of a routine day. Now it is the same, but I am more careful. I am older now and less fond of wild risk taking and I have more to lose, and I don't want to lose it. But I can't lose my visits either. The technique is simple: make your visit invisible within the course of a normal day. Don't have a definite place where you are supposed to be, unless thee is no chance of it being noticed that you are not there. Be where you can't be contacted, and be there legitimately. It's not for nothing that I don't have a mobile phone.

Another lady; this one young, very good looking in a glamorous and slightly tarty and aggressive way, and with a deep, earthy, sexy voice and a North of England accent that only increased the earthiness. It was again in Soho, and again at the flat where Carmen and Angie worked, and where I met Mandy more recently too. What a great flat.

I arrived and was invited in by the maid, I saw this young lady I knew I had come to the right place again. I wish I could remember her name. We took care of payment and she went of to prepare herself and said that there was a news item on the television that she wanted to watch. She left open the door to the kitchen where the television was, and where the maid was sitting. It was a high profile child abduction case and everyone was interested in it. I did not mind her wanting to see the rest of it. And it revealed the person behind the prostitute to me a little. She was a young woman who was interested in the world and keen to get the story on what was happening, and compassionate in her concern about its evils. When she returned, she spoke about the case a little, and she was a woman and a person, and I liked her. Then, the conversation over, during which she asked me my name and a few questions about myself, and told me a little about herself; I had told her what I wanted when we took care of the money part at the beginning: watersports, French and sex. She had brought back the perennial black plastic sheet, a bin liner torn open down the seam, and she asked in a matter of fact way; and looking at me knowingly, but benignly, after the pause when the ordinary conversation had ceased: 

‘Where do you want the watersports?' 

She was again a prostitute, a professional and the tools of her trade are her body and her friendly and easygoing conversation and that little of herself that she shared a little of with me. I replied 

‘On my cock.' 

Again, in a matter of fact way, she said, repeating my words, ‘on your cock,' and in that moment she became a gorgeous whore who I desired beyond all else; the essence of fucking and sucking and pissing and licking and touching and everything else that I craved to have.

She invited me to undress, which I did, and waited until I was finished and lying on the floor on the black plastic sheet, and my cock already erect; a fact that she noted with a little smile. Then she undressed, not with the exaggerated movements of a stripper, nor like a woman just arrived home from work and changing her clothes either, but somewhere in between, and all for the pleasure of my eyes, and she knew instinctively what to do and how to do it for me, as did all of the whores in all of the best visits I have experienced; meaning that some connection beyond the connection of bodies has taken place.

She swung one leg over me and facing me and looking down she pushed her lovely pussy towards me a little. And I recall that she was shaved and she had lovely prominent piss flaps, which she gently pulled apart, and I watched and watched. Maybe thirty or forty seconds past, as she concentrated and strained a little, until first a little squirt and then another and then another, and finally a full, strong gush shot from her pussy and tumbled in streams down on to my throbbing cock. She kept going for a long time; at least a minute and I watched the piss cascade down on me and felt the deep, deep relaxation that I always feel when a prostitute empties the contents of her bladder over me. When she was finished pissing, she stepped back over me and gave me tissues to wipe myself with as I was getting up. Unlike Carmen always did, she did not ask me to wash, but once I had wipe myself, she directed me to lay down on the bed, and she put a condom on me and began sucking me off. Her blow job technique included some licking and sucking of my bollocks, and I remember thinking at the time that there must still have been some of her piss on them and the thought heighten my excitement and my pleasure.

It was quite a few years of living in Turkey before I went to the genelev, but I did have one whore who I picked up in a bar and took home and fucked all night. She was not very good looking, but very cheap and fucked nicely. Apart from her it was one or two visits when I was back in London, from 1997, when I left England, until 2003, when I made my great discovery.

Perhaps I did not seek out whores in Turkey because I was getting so much pussy in real life, but the desire for whores always comes back to me in the end, and now I have had almost all of my best whore experiences in Turkey and the best whores in the world are the whores in Turkey.

The Turkish genelevs are reminiscent of Canal Strasse in Amsterdam, except that you have to pass a police check to get in. They are the state licensed brothels and all cities have one. They are a paradise of cheap and highly pleasurable erotic adventures, and for a man like me, who likes his whores to be cheap, trashy and beautiful, they are heaven on earth. In the Ankara genelev in Bentderesi, near Ulus and below the castle: the world's old profession carried out below the city's oldest building, over four years or so, I enjoyed the favours of twenty five of so of the ladies there.  Short visits of fifteen minutes or so cost the equivalent of twenty pounds or so, and for a half hour visit I would pay the equivalent of between sixty and seventy pounds. I used to try a new lady first with a short visit, and if she pleased me, I would visit her again for half an hour, and on a few occasions for a full hour. I will describe some of them here; the memorable ones, and describe what we did together.

The first time I went there, walked around and looked at all of the women in the windows, until finally I chose. She was around forty; she was slim and tall with peroxide blonde hair and her arms were heavily tattooed. With her I enjoyed an uncovered blow job, fucking in a range of positions, and then she invited me to fuck her arse. It was the first time I had had anal sex with a whore. She did not charge extra for it. All the way through, she kept saying, in English, ‘oh yes, My God, oh yes, Fuck me, Oh My God.' She was not a great actress, but she had a lovely deep, tight arsehole. I only saw her once; she was good, but once was enough with her.

My second there, a few weeks later, was Ipek. Short and pale skinned with dark hair, late thirties, small tits like little buds and a lovely shaved cunt. She had many tattoos. I continued to see her for the whole four years. With her I became friends. With her I fell in love. But a man of frequents prostitutes cannot be loyal, even to a prostitute. I was not loyal. I even betray whores. My visits to her were always for a half an hour and sometimes an hour. We would chat and drink tea and the fuck and then chat some more and then fuck again. It was a routine and she had her routine. After tea she would ask me to undress and I would, and then on the bed and wait for her. She would stand in the middle of the room and undress and do it slowly and teasingly. She knew how much I desired her. 

I was always hard by the time she came to the bed and she would kneel between my legs and then lean forward over me and kiss and suck my nipples. Slowly, she would work her way down my stomach and then take my cock in her hand and start to stroke it. Then she would lick my cock head and then take all of my cock in her mouth and suck me off. She never put a condom on me before she sucked me off. She would pause a moment and tell me to look in the large mirror behind her and gyrate her arse and make sure that her pussy poked out between her legs and she would reach down and push her fingers into herself and all the while suck my cock lovingly.

When she knew that I was ready, she would and take a condom from the bedside cabinet and roll it over my cock and then get herself into position over me and sit down on my cock and start to ride me. She rode magnificently, squeezing my cock with the muscles inside her cunt, as she slid up and down my knob.

Then she would stop and roll over and invite to get on top and fuck her. Sometimes I would get straight to that; others I would get between her legs and lick her whore pussy out for her; and yet others we would sixty-nine and as I licked and sucked her cunt I would gaze at her arsehole and wish that she would let me have it, but that secret she never gave up to me. Instead I would rim her and taste on the tip of my tongue the sweet and fetid flavours of her anus. Finally I would get on top and fuck her and gaze own at her and admire the many tattoos on her arms and her tits, as my cock slid in and out of her lovely cunt.

I stopped seeing Ipek because I left Ankara for Istanbul. I must have been in love with her, as she would not let me fuck her arse, at any price; and other ladies there did. But I kept going back to her and one day I will go back and see her, and not a day passes when I do not think of her. It will be the same with Ezgi. I will go on renting and fucking Ezgi's exquisite cunt and enjoying her sublime cock sucking until she disappears or I do.

Others did let me fuck their arses. There was Guler. She looked like the epitome of the cheap whore. She was in her mid thirties and she also was pale skinned and had long, long black hair. She was tall, and shapely and voluptuous, with great pendulous tits and wide hips and a peach of an arse. She was beautiful in a rough way and she chain smoked the whole time we were together. She had a scrawled tattoo on her arm that she had done herself. I saw her a lot of times. She was a great person, as well as a magnificent fuck, and I liked her as much as I desired her. We would chat and smoke and drink tea and then we would go to bed. I loved to lie there and watch her undress and see her great tits fall out of her bra. She always wore cheap stack heel black shoes and I always asked her to keep them on. She also wore a ton of cheap, fake gold and silver jewellery: bracelets, necklaces and rings on every finger and on her thumbs. She was a goddess.

She would lick my nipples and stroke my cock and then get down and start to gobble me off. Guler gives the best blow jobs I have ever had. No other woman comes even close to her. Her technique is to minimize the amount of contact between her lips and mouth and your cock. The touch of her lips is like velvet and all the while her warm breath blows gently down your shaft as she softly sucks you in and out of her mouth. 

When that sublime pleasure is over, it is time to fuck her. She would put the condom on me and lay back and as I was ready between her legs, she would take hold of my cock and open her pussy wide with her other hand and guide me in. She was tight. Her pussy must get stretched ten times or more a day, but she is as tight as a glove and a wonderful fuck. After taking her that way, she would ask me to stop a moment and I would withdraw. She would turn over and I would stick my cock back in her pussy, now from behind, and fuck her like a dog.




The Client



Finally it would be time for her arse. I would pull out of her cunt and position my cock at her sphincter. She would ask me to enter her slowly and then gently I would push. Slowly my cock would slip into her arse. I would stay motionless when it was all the way in her and then when she said she was ready I would fuck her arse hard and deep, until I spunked, deep in her arsehole.

She once asked me to marry her. That would have been the means of her escape from that place. She was joking, but there was seriousness in it too. It was too late, though. I was already engaged. In another version of my life, would I? Would I marry her or one of her kind? Yes, I would.

Guler, you are a lady and I thank you.

There was Hazal, whose name means ‘take pleasure' (haz-pleasure, al-take) and she was and I did. Long dyed blonde hair, dark skinned and tall, thirty, with sinewy limbs, shapely and slightly sagging tits and a large stomach. She would French kiss me fiercely and wank me hard and then suck me off until I almost came. Then she would make me wait and then tell me to fuck her. I would screw her in her pussy and then she would turn over and I would fuck her arse. She was so tight up there and her anus squeezed my cock until I thought her arsehole would crush it. As my cock fucked in and out of her arse, she would call me her beloved and tell me how much she loved me and in the moment she was enough to make me believe her.

There was another lady called Ozlem, who was in her mid forties and looked tired and worn, but was still attractive and glamorous and lovely to chat with, before and after. She gave me a nice cock sucking without a condom and an equally nice fuck with one, in her stretched and flaccid cunt. I ate her out after I had fucked her. She was surprised, but she liked me for doing it. Afterwards she showed me a photograph of her daughter, a dark beauty of nineteen, though already with signs of darker knowledge, in the tattoos on her arms and the blank and hard look in her eyes. I wonder if she knew what her mother did for a living. I was tempted to ask if I could meet her and I even wonder if that was why she had shown me the photograph. The story of how we met would have been a novel one: my mother is a prostitute and he was her client.

There was Serap, who looked like a hybrid of the middle aged wife who lives next door to you and the tramp of a streetwalker you were tempted by as you passed her one evening. She said she was thirty nine, but she won't see forty five again. She was sweet and friendly and she sucked cock very well and I enjoyed looking down at her admiring the faded glamour and beauty of her fleshy body.

There was Yasemin, who was thirty or so, with enormous hanging tits, which she was proud often to tell me were natural; and a soft rolling stomach. She was dark haired and dark eyed and dark skinned and she was the perfect oriental fantasy woman. Sometimes she wore a headscarf and she did not even take it off when she was sucking my cock and I was fucking her and sucking her great dark nipples. It added something of the thrill of the forbidden to the pleasure of having her.

Sedef was a young woman in her middle or late twenties who enticed me one evening when I was wandering around the place from window to window and finding myself unable to choose. She was very dark skinned and had dark, dark brown hair. I had been looking at her and wandered off and come back, and although she could not have known it, she was on the list of three who had caught my eye and sparked my desire on that balmy summer evening as I walked around. What she did know was that the desire for her was there, in my lingering at her window and in my look. She came outside and called to me and I went. She was lively and danced her way behind me to her room and continued to dance and bump herself against me as we took care of the business. Then it was time for the action and she stripped off and slowly her voluptuous young body was revealed to me as I lay on the bed waiting for her. She knelt between my legs and sucked me off, and she did it superbly, and every now and then she would pause and ask me if she was good, all along knowing the answer to her own question.

I saw her once more, and again on an evening when I could not decide. She was in a different mood and more reticent. I asked her about her work and she answered my question with a question of her own:

‘Who could enjoy this work?'

Later, as she sucked me off, the call to prayer sounded from a nearby mosque. The sacred and the profane are never far from one another. She stopped sucking me and we sat in silence and listened to the melancholy sound, and she did not resume until it was over. It seemed to me a revelation of who she really was, and showed how a little piece of a former self of hers survived in her and gave her the strength to keep going. Then we fucked, but she gave me no arse, but then she was a religious woman.

Naza was the image of glamorous low rent whoredom. She was around thirty and she had peroxide blonde hair, cropped short. For clothes, she always wore a pair of jeans with the zip undone, and a white bra and white thong. She adorned her wrists with cheap bracelets and her fingers with cheap rings. She had beautiful dark eyes full of promise. She was intelligent and interesting to talk to and I saw her twice. And there was something of the kind and efficient nurse about her, which put me off a little. I would have seen her more often, except that she always put the condom on me before performing the blow job. She said it was the sake of health, and of course she was right. Her fucking was exquisite, though, and she had a lovely technique of rubbing my cock head all over her cunt lips before pulling me into her.

Finally, two women who were both called Gozde, or that is the name they both used professionally; a stage name, if you will. The first was twenty three, she said, and she looked it; but she did not look young and she did not seem young. She had an ‘E' scrawled on her upper left arm, which she told me was the first letter of the name of her child. She was good looking in a peroxide blonde and shapely, and coarse and vulgar sort of way. It is difficult to imagine her doing anything in life other that what she did; which was to have cheap sex with men she does not know. She had a foul mouth and every other word was an obscenity and she looked every inch the whore that she is. It thrilled me to hear her use such foul language and to flaunt her whoredom. She was the most glamorous piece of trash I have ever seen. 

That foul mouth, however, could create the finest sensations in my cock  The business dealt with, she squeezed my cock tightly between her fingers through my trousers and told me to undress, and as I stood taking off my clothes, she sat in a chair in front of me and as soon as my cock was free from trousers and boxer shorts, it was in her hand and a second later in her mouth. She sucked it hard and sighed loudly as she sucked it in and out between her lips. Her head bobbed up and down fast until she stopped and beckoned me to the bed. I fucked her in many positions, before coming in her from behind. All the time that my cock was gong at her cunt, I had been poking my finger into her arsehole. She would not let me fuck her arse, though. Even an utter skank like her has some standards, it seemed. 

Some time later, I was at the genelev again and looking in the window of the commission where she worked. She was standing there and she did not recognize me. Usually, the women do recognize clients they have provided for before. It as the first time that I had not been recognized by a woman I had had. Then there was some commotion nearby. Another customer had got into an argument with one of the men who sit and take the money you pay to visit the house. They were pushing each other and shouting, and Gozde came outside to see what was happening. She had the look in her eye that suggested that she likes to see a fight. She stood right next to me and still he did not know who I was, or that she had received me once. It was an odd thing to have been so close to a woman before, and for her now not to feel me next to her as I felt her. It was one of those moments in which truth is disclosed. I had no feelings for her, other than the memory of twenty minutes of polite negotiation over money, small talk and cocksucking and fucking, and which she had performed well, so that I remembered her fondly for that.  She had no memory of me at all, and neither had her body. We had had sex; I had felt intimacy in the closeness of her body, but she had felt nothing in the closeness of mine.

The other Gozde was very different. She was the opposite of the first one. She is the most beautiful woman that I have ever had sex with. She did not look like a whore, though that is not to say that a whore who looks like a whore cannot be beautiful; many are. She told me that she was Kurdish and came from the east of Turkey. She was thirty and said that she had never been married. She had had a boyfriend; a pimp. She said the word with contempt. She also told me that she had had a client in the past, who as an engineer, and who brought her presents. He was not her boyfriend, even if she thought of him that way, but a client who treated her with care and respect. And that's as good as it gets. She did not tell me much more than that. The women are often secretive and evasive about their real identities. It's their bodies that are for sale or rent; not themselves. And knowing only a little, you invent the rest.

She was tall and slim and sultry looking and had short dark brown hair and black eyes and the palest white skin. I saw her three or four times and we became friendly with each other. She told me that she liked to read and asked me to get her a book. I bought her a novel and she said that she read it and liked it. Then she disappeared. She must have been moved to another genelev in another city. Maybe she got lucky, and another customer married her and rescued her. It happens sometimes, but it's unlikely.

She was sad and sullen at times, and she could never hide it well. She knew that she could have done more and been more, but it was probably too late. She was lost. How she got there, I don't know. I don't know how any of the prostitutes I have had sex with got where they were, although Mandy told me that she had started doing it out of necessity a year before I met her, and that now she found it interesting. She said she was exploring herself, and her clients. She had been an art teacher, she claimed. It did not sound entirely plausible, but you can never know for sure. She did not seem unhappy, though.

Gozde's story is probably a sad one and one in which she has not been able to be the heroine of her own life. Most of their stories are sad ones, I imagine, and the reality probably even more unpleasant that the imagined story I could make up for her, and all of the others.

I would fuck her from behind and she would rest her elbows on the bed and cup her head in her hands and look blank. There was a large mirror on the wall and I could see her face, if I looked, staring into the mirror and looking empty and wishing perhaps, that she could be somewhere on the other side of that mirror.

Ipek is the one I remember most fondly from there most of all though, and she was the opposite of Gozde. I miss her shining eyes and her mischievous smile, and her pale and roughly beautiful body with its tattoos and its glow of the sordid and the irresistible. I miss her deep, guttural voice and her lower class eastern Turkish accent; her dirty laugh and her boisterous and joking manner and the way she asked if I loved her and if I had missed her, whenever I went to visit her. She did not love me of course, but she liked me and I had fun with her, and liked and admired her as a person and a friend, as much as I desired her as a woman. Sometimes, it felt to me that it was not just fucking, and that I was making love to her, and even if she did not experience it in the same way as me, it is enough that she allowed me to go on feeling what I felt to keep my illusions intact, even as I knew that they were illusions.

More recently, in Istanbul, I met a very large and beautiful woman of forty-eight, with long dyed blonde hair, lovely intense eyes and a warm and benevolent smile. She said her name was Cigdem. Her tits were not huge, but big and soft and shapely and sagging, and her stomach hung heavily down and looked like a pile of tyres unevenly stacked. I rubbed and caressed it as she sucked my cock. I complimented her on her stomach and she laughed and said she had gained a lot of weight. I told her I liked it and that she was beautiful; and to me she was, and she was pleased. Her cock sucking was punctuated by pauses in which she looked up into my eyes and pursed her lips and sighed deeply. It was theatre, but marvellous theatre. 

She was fantastic in bed. She sucked my cock with consummate skill and sat on my face and her great bulk weighed down on me as my tongue explored her vagina and her anus. Then she got on all fours on the bed and slide a finger into her arsehole and asked me to do her the favour of sticking my cock up there and fucking her, up her arse. I did, and it was only the second time in my life that I had penetrated a woman's arse before having her cunt. I fucked her arse from behind for a delicious while, and then asked her to turn over. She did and I guided my cock into her lovely soft, warm pussy until it could go in no further and I paused to savour the sensations of her cunt holding my cock. Then I began to fuck her. I kept that going as long as I could, but being careful not to come, for I wanted to finish in her arsehole. I pulled out of her cunt and she put a pillow under herself to lift her arse towards me. My cock slid easily into her arse and her hands reached down and she opened her cunt for me to admire as my cock fucked her arsehole until I came.

Afterwards we chatted and drank tea and told each other a little about ourselves. I was not entirely honest. She asked me if I was married and I told her that I am not. I always take off my wedding ring when I go to a whore. It is a little ritual and has a symbolism to it. These things must be kept apart.

She told me that she had been a prostitute for many years, but had given it up three years before, but then got into debt and had to return to it. She said that she had come from a good, professional family, and had married and had three children, now grown up. Two of them were married and one was going to the bad. She had ‘fallen', she said, but she did not elaborate on that. Adultery, perhaps; but her choice of word, ‘fallen' suggested that whatever had happened, it had been her own doing. It suggests that, but it is not certain. Nothing is certain in the exchange between a whore and her client. It is a world of lies and half truths and ambiguities. Cigdem's story may be fiction, or it may be fact, or most likely a mixture of both. What she did tell me though, is that ‘Cigdem' is only the name she uses when she is working, and that her real name is Yurdamur.

She told me that many of her customers were young men of eighteen or nineteen, and for them she was more of a woman, she said, than her younger peers. To them, she would be their mother, as they wish she had been. A young man first venturing into the realms of sex and whores would be in good hands with Cigdem: a majestic performer and a woman of intelligence and compassion. There is much to be learned, of life and love, and passing joy, and sadness, from a woman like her.



The Client



I am Derek Samuels and I am a stockbroker with a prestigious firm out of New York and assigned the Phoenix Arizona area. 

My wife Jill and I moved her almost one year ago and I have been working my ass off trying to get the office in Phoenix up and running. I have been trying to land that one big client that would put us on the map and get us rolling.

Unfortunately, I have been unable to land the big client and my company is putting pressure on me to get the office profitable or they will replace me.

Jill and I have become accustomed now to nice things like a big house and nice cars. We also like living in the Southwest and the warm climate. 

I had to land that big client and do it quickly or we would lose everything we had come so accustomed to.

I have always been up front with Jill so she knew our predicament, and what had to happen very quickly.

I had been trying to land this one big client now for nearly two months when Jill had an idea.

"Invite him over to the house for lunch and drinks one day. Let him see what you are all about and maybe that will help." She said.

"That is a good idea. I mean it cannot hurt. Right?" I replied.

"It can't hurt." She shrugged.

Jill and I have been married for five years and she is the love of my life and she is drop dead gorgeous. She is a brunette that stands five foot seven inches tall. She has firm, full thirty-six C breasts. Her body is tight and firm with a cute little ass that always makes my dick hard. Her legs are long and muscular but a feminine muscular that is super sexy. 

Jill and I have always loved showing her off. We will go to the mall or to the grocery store with her wearing short shorts or skirts and very tight t-shirts that accentuate her breasts.

I knew in the back of my mind that she was planning to do a little showing off for the client during our lunch but needed the business to keep my job so thought what the hell. It is nothing that we have not already done.

"I will call him tomorrow and invite him over on Saturday." I replied.

"Sounds good. I will fix a light lunch and you guys can sit out by the pool, have a few drinks and some lunch while you talk." She replied.

The next day I called Sam and invited him. He accepted the invitation and said, "It sounds like a relaxing afternoon."

Saturday morning came around and Jill was up early. I walked into the kitchen and she was busy making little sandwiches for our lunch guest.

"Good morning sweetheart!" she said smiling at me.

Groggily I replied, "Good morning." 

I walked to her, kissed her, and then headed for the coffee pot. I poured a cup and sat down at the table to watch her scurrying around the kitchen.

"What's this client's name?"

"Richard Parsons." I replied.

"How old is he?"

"Oh, I would guess about forty to forty five." I again answered yawning.

"Is he a good looking guy?"

"Yah, I guess you could say that." Taking another sip from my cup.

"Is he married?"

"No. Why so many questions?" I asked.

"Just want a little background before he gets here." She shrugged.

"He was married but is now divorced." I said.

"Any kids?"

"He has two both girls and one is in college and the other lives here in Phoenix." I answered.

"What time is it?" I asked her.

"About ten." She replied

"Shit, I better get ready he will be here in an hour." I said as I headed for the bathroom to shower.

When I got out of the shower I walked into the bedroom and Jill was there dressed. She had on a pair of short cutoff jeans with a pair of high-heeled sandals and a blouse that she had tied off at the waist. It never mattered what Jill wore because she looked good in everything.

"I have to run into town and get a few things. If he gets here before I get back then the sandwiches are in the fridge and the salad is all tossed and ready." She said as she looked in the mirror putting the finishing touches to her make-up.

"You are not going to be here?" I asked.

"I will be but probably not before he gets here." She replied 

She then turned to look at me and asked, "Is that a problem?"

I thought that maybe I was all wrong about her intentions on the day. I was certain she was planning to show off her body to help seal the deal.

I shrugged and replied, "No but I want to be sure he gets to meet you."

"He will. I will be back." She replied.

"Ok." I answered.

She walked to me, kissed me and said, "See you in a little bit."

She then walked out of the bedroom and down the hall. I heard the garage door open and her start her car.

I finished getting ready with about ten minutes to spare. I walked to the kitchen to get couple of glasses of Iced Tea ready and the doorbell rang.

I walked to the door and opened it.

"Hello Richard how are you today?" Holding out my hand to shake his.

"Great and you today?" He asked.

"Also doing great." I replied

"You have a beautiful home Derek." He commented.

"Thank you, we really like it here. Come on in and make yourself at home." I told him.

I turned to walk to the kitchen and Richard followed me.

"I just made a couple of glasses of iced tea would you like one?" 

"Sounds good." He replied

"It is a beautiful day and not too hot yet anyway. Would you like to set outside?" I asked.

"Love to. I get tired of being cooped up inside all day." He answered.

I opened the door to the patio and we went outside and sat in the shade in some loungers by the pool.

"Where is your wife?" Richard asked me.

"She had to run into town for awhile. I think she decided to leave us alone so we could talk. But, she did leave us some sandwiches in the fridge for later." I responded.

"I hope she makes it back before I have to leave. I would love to meet her." He said.

"She said she would be but you know how it is when those women get to shopping." I laughed as I said it.

"Oh yes my ex used to love to shop." He smiled back at me.

Richard and I sat and talked a bit more before the talk turned to business. I was pitching him on our services and he was mostly listening. I looked at my watch and it was already twelve thirty.

"I'm starved would you like some of those sandwiches and maybe a cold beer now?" I asked.

"I am sort of hungry, that sounds good. The beer too." He answered.

I got up and went to the kitchen to get the sandwiches and a couple of beers.

We sat eating and talking when someone was coming through the gate to our backyard.

As soon as she appeared she said, "Oh, Mr. Samuels. I am so sorry if I am bothering you. I did not know you had a guest. I am Heather your pool cleaner. I have not met you I guess I always see your wife. "

I was taken off guard as I sat there listening to my wife Jill speaking.

She continued, "I can come back later or on Monday if you like. I was out sick a couple of days and got behind."

"No that is fine." I was playing along.

Jill was still wearing her short cut-offs but now had on just a bikini top that did little to hide her large, full breasts.

"I will be quiet and get done as quickly as possible. I promise." Jill or Heather said.

I looked at Richard who was taking in her body and just stared at her.

Jill began her duties by getting on her knees on the side of the pool and began testing the water. When she bent over to get some water, her breasts were hanging down in her top and it was a very good view between them. Richard and I could see clear through to her firm tight stomach.

Jill kept a very professional attitude during this and did not even look at us.

"Damn, man where did you find a pool service like that? Richard whispered to me.

"I don't know for sure. My wife handles all of that stuff." I whispered in response.

After testing the water Jill stood up, grabbed the skimmer net, and began skimming the top of the pool. She walked all the way around the pool picking out the bugs and little debris.

Richard and I had stopped talking at this point and was just watching Jill strut around the pool.

Once she had finished skimming the pool she looked in our direction and asked, "It is getting hot out here, you guys don't mind if I lose these shorts do you?"

Before I could respond, Richard said, "No not at all."

Jill then reached for the snap on the front of her shorts and undid it. She unzipped them and pulled them down her long legs.

"Holy shit!" Richard whispered.

I could not respond. Jill was wearing a little thong bikini bottom that matched her top.

Her suit was bright yellow, which accentuated her tanned body even more. The bottoms barely covered her pussy and the thin waistband wrapped around her tiny waist until it met in the back to the thin patch of material that disappeared between her golden brown tight little buns. She was still wearing the high-heeled sandals and those made her look even taller and her legs even sexier. She looked like she had just stepped off the cover of a swimsuit magazine.

Richard mumbled to me, "Son of a bitch, she is hot."

I had to agree with him.

Jill then went over to where we keep the hoses to vacuum the pool with and opened the chest and bent over with her ass in our direction.

"Dear Gawd" Richard quietly moaned.

She made a show of it acting as if she could not find everything she needed. She finally stood back up and walked to the pump room and around the corner out of sight.

"Holy shit Derek you did not know this hottie was cleaning your pool?" Richard asked.

"I knew Jill had hired someone to do it but I had no idea what they looked like."

"I have to get her card before she leaves. I need to hire her to take care of my pool." Richard responded.

My mind went Holy Shit how is she going to get out of this one.

Jill then stuck her head around the corner of the pump room and asked, "Mr. Samuels I am sorry to bother you but I need you to look at something. I think you are going to need to get it fixed."

"Excuse me Richard. I guess I better go and look." I said.

"Be sure you are looking at what is broken and not her." He chuckled as he said it.

I walked to the pump room and Jill was waiting for me.

"How is it going?" She asked.

"He is in love with you I think and he wants to hire you to clean his pool." I responded.

"Really?" She excitedly asked.

"What do you mean really? How will you get out of that?" I asked.

She just shrugged her shoulders and pressed her body against me and kissed me.

"Feel my pussy! It is soaked!" She exclaimed.

I put my hand inside her suit bottoms and felt her wet pussy.

"You are enjoying this aren't you?" I asked.

"It is exciting knowing both of you are watching my every move." She replied as she squeezed my hard cock.

"You apparently are enjoying it too." She added.

"I have to get back out there." I said.

She kissed me again and I put my hands in the pockets of my shorts to hide my hard on.

I walked back over and sat down.

"What was the problem?" Richard asked.

"There is a gasket leaking and it is wet in there." I replied.

Jill came out of the pump room and brought the hose, pole and vacuum head with her. She pulled the cover off the skimmer by bending over again letting us view the shot between her hanging tits. She got the equipment arranged and began working the pole back and forth vacuuming the pool bottom.

"Would you like another beer?" I asked Richard.

"Sounds good thank-you" He answered.

I went in to get us another beer and looked out the kitchen window and watched Richard nearly drooling over Jill. He could not take his eyes off her. I really did not blame him.

I walked back out and handed him his beer.

"You know Derek I would love to bend that sweet thing over and fuck what has to be a sweet little pussy." Richard said.

I nearly choked on my beer. I was not used to hearing a guy talk about my wife that way. I mean I have heard guys say those kinds of things but always about other women.

"Yes sir I know what you mean." I responded

I actually did know what he meant because I had plans on doing just that when all of this was over.

Just about then, the string around Jill's neck holding up her top came loose and her top fell open revealing her tits.

I nearly choked again and Richard's eyes almost bulged out of his head. Jill very nonchalantly put down the pole and turned away from us and pulled her top back up and retied the string.

She looked over at us and said, "Sorry. I really need to get a new suit. That happens way too often."

"No problem." Richard answered her with a grin.

"Damn, did you see those tits?" He asked me in a low voice.

"Yes, I saw them."

Jill worked her way around the pool until she was standing in front of us. Her body was glistening from perspiration and her golden brown tanned ass was at our eye level.

She turned, "I hope I am not bothering you guys today?"

"That is alright. We are just sitting and talking." I replied.

She then dropped something in the pool and said, "Oh No."

She got on her knees directly in front of us and bent over to retrieve it.

Her ass was spread and both of us could see the thong material as it was nestled between her cheeks and covered her little brown rosebud. Her covered pussy was also in view and the suit bottoms had wedged between her pussy lips giving us a perfect outline of her pussy. I also noticed a slight wet spot on them where her wet pussy was dripping onto her suit.

Richard adjusted his sitting position and I wondered if it was for the same reason that I did and that was to help relieve the pressure from my hard cock pressing against my shorts.

Jill stood back up and said, "Got it."

I was not sure what she got but I know it was a show her getting it.

Jill finished vacuuming the pool and again made a show of putting up the equipment.

She then walked over to the pool edge and dove in. She went the length of the pool under water and came up on the other side. She turned and swam back to where we were sitting.

She popped her head above the pool decking and said, "This is the best part of the job when you get done you get to cool off. I hope you don't mind?"

"Not at all." I replied.

She walked over to the stairs and began getting out of the pool.

I nearly choked again.

Her little yellow suit was almost transparent. Her nipples were hard and protruding from her visible areola. The bottoms were also nearly see-thru and they were still wedged between her pussy lips. It was also evident that she shaved her pussy.

She then walked over to where her cutoffs were and slipped them back on.

She then very sexily walked over to where we were sitting.

"It was nice to finally meet you Mr. Samuels." She said as she held out her hand.

She then looked at Richard and said, "it was nice to meet you too Mr......"

"I'm sorry this is Richard Parson's" I quickly interjected.

"Nice to meet you Mr. Parsons." As she held out her hand to him.

He held her hand longer and asked, "Heather, I have a pool and in need of a new service to clean it. Would you be interested?" He asked her.

"Sure!" She exclaimed excitedly.

I looked at her with a shocked expression.

"What day is best for you?" He asked.

"How about on Mondays?" She responded.

"That would be great." He smiled at her.

"How big is your pool?" Jill asked him.

"Just about this size." He said.

"I charge one hundred and fifty dollars a week for doing a pool this size." Jill stated.

"Fine! I also have some friends that would be interested in your services." He said.

"Really? That would be great!" She replied.

"Well I have to go. I will see you Mr. Parsons on Monday and Mr. Samuels I hope to see you again soon." She said as she slipped her sandals back on.

She then turned and headed out the gate.

As soon as she was gone, "Shit Derek you had a hottie like that cleaning your pool and you did not know it?" Richard gasped.

"She must always come when I am at work." I replied.

"You can damn sure bet I will be home on Mondays from now on just to watch her clean the pool." He added.

He then looked at his watch, "Hey buddy I have to go. I really wanted to meet your wife but maybe another time. This has been a great afternoon! Why don't you give me a call at the office on Monday or, I'm sorry on Tuesday since I have to be at home on Monday and we will set things up. I like you and the way you do things."

"Richard that will be great. I will call you Tuesday and we will set up a meeting to get things switched over." I replied with a big smile.

I walked Richard to the door, shook his hand again, and said, "Thank-You."

He grinned really big and replied, "No, thank-you!"

I closed the door and began jumping up and down with excitement. That is the big break we needed. 

I looked out the window as Richard drove away. 

I went to the kitchen to get another beer and about the time I hit the fridge I heard the garage door opening.

Jill was back.

She walked into the door and immediately asked, "Well how did it go?"

"We got it!" I nearly yelled.

She ran across the room and threw herself at me and I caught her as she wrapped her legs around my waist. We kissed deeply and passionately and then she dropped her legs as we continued to kiss.

I reached behind her neck and untied the top of her suit as it fell open I backed off just a little so that it fell between us. I pulled her back to me and felt the hot flesh of her breasts pressing against me.

Jill pushed me away and literally ripped the buttons off my shirt pulling it open and then pulled it back off my shoulders. My shirt dropped to the floor and she leaned back into me with her tits pressed firmly against my bare skin. 

I reached behind her and untied the string that was holding the top and it also fell to the floor.

She grabbed at my belt and undid it. She then unfastened my pants and unzipped them. I reached down and began pulling them off my waist with my boxers as she backed off and unfastened her shorts and then peeled them and the bathing suit bottom off her voluptuous hips. Her shorts and my pants hit the floor at about the same time.

She leaned into me and we kissed deeply with our tongues lashing at each other.

I spun her around, lifted her onto the counter, and then began kissing her neck and shoulders. I moved down her chest, kissed that sweet spot at the top of her cleavage, and then kissed each breast until finally reaching her aching and hard nipples. I sucked one into my mouth and let my tongue flick across her hard little nub and then switched to her other puckered hard nipple and gave it equal attention. I softly bit on her nipple and she moaned.

"MMMMM." I loved the sound of her soft moans as we made love. 

I put my hands on her thighs and spread them as she leaned back and opened her soft folds of hot, wet flesh.

I kissed her soft and shaven pussy, and then let my tongue slip between her wet lips.

Another moan, "Ohhhhhhhh yes." 

My tongue found her hard clit and circled it.

"Ohhhhhh gawd." She moaned and I smiled.

I sucked her pussy into my mouth and let my tongue flick back and forth on her clit.

"Ohhhh fuck yes." She moaned again.

After just a brief period of my tongue bouncing against her hot spot, she began to breathe heavily.

I knew she was ready to come.

"OOOHHHHHHHH FUCK!" She was nearly yelling as her body jerked and she coated my face and tongue with her juices.

"Fuck me Derek, fuck me know." She exclaimed as she climbed off the counter and spun around bending over it.

She did not need to ask twice as I grabbed my cock and guided it toward her hot pussy.

I watched as the head of my cock slipped between her lips and felt the warmth and wetness of her as my cock slid inside her.

"FUCK ME!" She was pushing back at my cock so I leaned forward and sunk my cock completely inside her.




The Client



She kept thrusting back at me pulling my cock in and out of her pussy. I began thrusting back at her and the resounding slap of our skin meeting was filling the kitchen.

We were fucking now with a wild lust that her little acts of exhibitionism this afternoon had prompted. I was holding onto her smooth hips as she lunged back and forth on my cock. We were in perfect unison and I watched my cock as it slid in and out of her pussy.

I was so fucking horny that I could feel the cum welling in my balls and knew I would soon be filling her sweet hole with it.

"OHHHHH Fuck!" It was now my turn to moan and I exploded deep inside Jill's pussy. Load after load spilled from my cock and soon the cum was oozing from her pussy and around my shaft. I could feel it running down my balls.

After I had finished Jill turned and held me tight and we kissed again. I never knew that such blatant exhibitionism would cause such a stir in her. I also realized that I enjoyed seeing other men drool over my beautiful wife.

Jill bent over, retrieved her clothes from the floor, and headed down the hall. My cum was running down her leg as she went. 

The next day Jill went to clean Richard's pool. When I got home from work, she told me what happened.

"I was cleaning his pool in my swimsuit again and he had several guys over for a supposed meeting. The guys sat and watched me as I worked and I have to admit that did do a little exposing of my body to them." She said.

"How much did you expose?" I asked.

"I did not let my top fall like yesterday but I did do a lot of bending over so they got a great view of my tits and my ass." She replied.

"Did any of them get rude or try anything?" I asked.

"No but I did here a lot of moans as I bent over." She replied.

"What else?" I asked.

"I got four more pools to clean now." She grinned.

It seems that a good-looking brunette who is not afraid to show her body has a great demand as a pool cleaner. Jill now has forty-one pools she cleans. She then came up with the idea of me cleaning pools for the ladies. It seems that there are many ladies out there who like having a buff guy clean their pools too.

I eventually quit my job and Jill and I have made a very lucrative business of cleaning pools. The best part is that when the day is over we come home and talk about what happened during the day. 

It always ends in a very hot fuck session.



The Client



Casey could not believe she was doing this, she never saw clients this late at night and never in a hotel room. A small smile played on her red lips. She had done her homework though and had visited the house he wanted to decorate first before coming to see him. She pulled into the parking bay of the luxury hotel. Her portfolio and laptop sat next to her on the passenger seat. It was her only companions - work was all her life. Casey had worked hard to get were she was and she was now rated as one of the top home decorators at one of the best firms. Her social life had taken a back seat to her ambitions to be the best. Now she was. And she was lonely. 

Casey got out the car. She was tall for a woman, slim. She was not skinny like most tall woman though. Just slim and toned, her spare hours spent working out at the gym payed off. Her breasts stood perfect as if they were done by the best surgeons. Her other female colleges still did not believe her that they were natural. She shook her head letting her dark red hair come forward over her shoulder. Casey did not believe in tying her hair up. Loose and free is how she liked her hair to be. It showed off her big blue eyes more this way. Casey though that her best feature. Her eyes.

She was dressed her best for this meeting. All business. She walked into the lobby of the hotel proudly. Casey never noticed that men stared at her, but their eyes followed her now. She had left her laptop and portfolio in her car. That's how she always worked. Make the client feel your attention is completely on them before hitting them with facts and figures. She climbed into the well lighted lift. Her well manicured hand punched in the floor and she waited. Then the doors were opening.

It was dark. Too dark. The open lift behind her was the only source of light. She looked down the passage way. The closed doors to the rooms were barely visible. He had said his room was the 7th door on the left. The light behind her began to fade, but she refused to turn and go back. Back to the safety of the lighted lift. 

Casey did not want to move, but she had never backed down before. She refused to give him the satisfaction. She jumped as the doors closed and the light was gone. Her eyes closed, she ran her hand nervously through her long wavy dark red hair, tugged on her tweed jacket and rearranged her short pencil skirt. Casey was here for business. And she meant business regardless of what he may think. She opened her eyes. The darkest blue eyes looked down the dark foreboding passage way. She sighed, straightened her back and began walking. Her high heels barley making a sound on the rich carpet.

1st door on the left. She saw it with the corner of her eye. Keep going, she told herself as she felt a shiver run down her spine. Casey had never been afraid of the dark before. What is wrong with me? She wondered. It was because of him. He unnerved her.

2nd door on the left. 5 more doors to go. Her breathing increased and she felt the hairs on her neck stand up. Someone's behind me. She looked back. No one. Casey stopped. Taking a deep, steading breath she squared her shoulders and moved forward. 

3rd door on the left. The sound of the tell tail click of a door being unlocked broke the silence in the passage way. Casey stopped and looked around her. Nothing. No one appeared anywhere. Her breathing quickened as the fear began to rise in her. She picked up the pace.

4th door on the left. Her arms prickled with goose flesh. Her breathing short gasps.

5th door on the left. Somewhere a door squeaked open. Casey could not tell if it was ahead of her or behind her. She lengthened her stride, close to running now.

6th door on the left...A hand clamped over her mouth from behind. Casey froze with fright. An arm wrapped around her waist and she was roughly pulled back against a hard chest. She began to struggle.

"Shh...Don't scream, don't fight" A male voice whispered harshly in her ear.

She was roughly pushed up against a wall. He let go her waist and mouth. Casey opened her mouth to scream. Something hard was shoved into her mouth before any sound came out. And then he was covering her eyes with a blindfold. Casey began to struggle. He pulled her against his hard chest.

"7th door on the left..." He chuckled, his lips close to her ear. She froze. It was him. He was the man behind her. 

She felt her pussy become wet and moaned. She did not want to do this, did she?

From the moment he had walked into her office she had wanted him. And she had hated him for that. He had stood tall. His dark brown hair neatly cut and he was wearing a dark blue suit that looked like it had been poured onto his toned body. His dark eyes had seemed to read everything about her life in the second he had turned to look at her. She had no choice. Casey had smiled politely as her boss told her she was to decorate this man's new home. Then she had to smile between clenched teeth as he ignored her completely and arranged with her boss to have her travel all the way to his hotel room at night time to discuss the details.

"Give him what ever he wants. This is a going to be our biggest client of the year." Her boss had grinned at her. Anything he wants? Casey's boss had not meant this.

She was roughly pulled backwards and then she heard a door close. Casey's hands came up to try and rip the blind fold off. He turned her around and grabbed both her wrists. He easily held them behind her back with one hand.

"No, no...don't spoil the fun now." He chuckled.

She tried to beg for him to stop, but the thing in her mouth prevented any sound except muffled moans. Casey could not spit it out. He had tied it behind her head. His free hand began working on the buttons on her blouse. She tried to pull away but his other hand was still holding her wrists behind her back and she could not move. She felt the cold air against her exposed skin. His hand moved slowly upwards. Hooking his fingers under the wired lace he lifted her bra up and over her one breast exposing it. He pulled her wrist sharply backwards causing Casey to arch her back.

Casey gasped as she felt his mouth close around her nipple, his tongue lightly flicking it. Her panty was becoming wet against her pussy, her juices flowing in want. He bit down hard. She tried to scream and struggle against him as the pain shot through her. It was just a brief second, before his tongue was again flicking her swollen and sore nipple. She felt his hand move to the other breast and gasped as he freed it to the cold air. She waited for his mouth again, but it did not come. It felt like the minutes were ticking by and nothing. Her arms became tired and numb from the way he was holding them back.

And then he turned her around.

She was roughly shoved against something. It pushed against her stomach. He grabbed her wrists again and held them in one hand then pushed her till she bent over the back of something she could not see. His other hand began to push her skirt up and over her backside. She tried to struggle. Then he hit her. Hard. She felt the sting of his hand against her backside and tried to struggle more. He hit her again. She stayed still, not daring to move. He continued to move her skirt over her backside. His fingers skilfully moved her wet panty aside and he quickly slid two fingers into her wet pussy.

Casey gasped at the suddenness. His fingers stretching her hole. She felt them push deep and hard into her, then slowly move out. He fucked her with his two fingers until she was gasping for breath at the pleasure building inside her. He stopped and pulled his fingers out her hole. She groaned. The minutes ticked by. His hand still holding her wrists behind her. Casey could not see what he was doing.

She started when she felt his wet fingers moving slowly down from the top of the crack of her ass. Slowly down to her ass hole. He moved his fingers coated in her juices over her ass hole. Round and round it. Slowly. Then he slipped his one finger inside. She jerked forward in shock. This was the first time she had ever had a finger in her ass. It felt intrusive, strange. He moved it slowly in her ass hole then pulled it out completely.

Casey was shocked at herself. She wanted his finger back. She wanted him to fuck her ass hole like he had done her pussy. Casey was liking this. Too much. She tried to move away from him. He hit her hard. The sound echoed in the silence. She screamed, but it came out as a moan past the thing in her mouth.

And then he shoved two fingers in her ass hole. Hard and rough. Casey tried to shake her head no, as she felt her hole stretch painfully. He fucked her hard and fast with his two fingers. So rough. So deep in her ass. She felt her pussy clench as sensations began deep in it while he fucked her ass with his fingers still wet from her pussy juices. Casey moaned in pleasure and shock as his fingers slid in and out of her. Then he stoped. She waited. Time seemed to go slow. Nothing. The wait was killing her. She wanted to come. Desperately.

I shouldn't be doing this. Must stop. So wrong. She thought to herself

The sound of his zipper going down and his pants dropping to the floor broke the silence. Casey could not stop herself. She moaned in anticipation.

Casey jerked forward. Something cold and wet dripped between her ass cheeks. The she felt a hard plastic tip press into her ass hole. Cold wet liquid was squirted into her tight ass. She tried to pull forward but his hand holding her wrists pulled her back. Everything was dark. The blindfold blocked out the sights. Casey tried to struggle as she felt his free hand come around her waist and begin to move slowly downwards to between her legs.

His fingers skilfully parted her pussy lips and he slide two fingers slowly into her hole. He positioned his thumb on her clit and rubbed the nob back and forwards. The two fingers in her pussy moved out just as slowly. His thumb moving upwards. Then his fingers slammed into her pussy, rough, his thumb rubbing her clit at the same time. She groaned and felt her pussy get tight as the pleasure began to build. The warm head of his big cock pressed against her ass hole and she froze.

He slammed his big cock hard into her ass hole. All the way in. Deep in her ass. Casey tried to scream at the intrusion. His cock stretching and tearing her ass open, his fingers still fucking her pussy, his thumb on her clit. Casey screamed so loudly the sound got past the thing in her mouth. She heard him laugh.

"You like that? You like my cock deep in your ass?" He ground his hips against hers pushing every inch of his cock into her tight ass.

His fingers stopped in her pussy.

"If you want it...then fuck me" He demanded.

He pushed her wrists forward moving her body with it. His cock moved out her ass slowly as his fingers moved deeper into her pussy, his thumb rubbing her clit. Then he pulled her roughly back towards him slamming his cock in her ass. His fingers moved out her pussy.

"Fuck me!" He demanded.

Casey moaned. A war ragged in her head. His big thick cock in her ass hurt, but felt so good. It was the first time she had cock in her ass. Casey knew she would never turn back. She liked the feel. She liked a cock stretching her tight ass. Filling her. Deep. Casey wanted it. She moved forward slowly. His cock slid slowly out her ass with her movement as his fingers slid into her pussy and his thumb moved over her clit.

She pushed back hard. His moan as his cock stuffed her ass excited her. Casey moved forward again slowly. She moaned as his thumb moved over her clit. 

Sensations moved up and down inside her tight pussy causing her to tighten around his fingers. She slammed back against him bringing his cock deep into her ass. He pushed her wrists roughly forward. Fast. He slid out her ass completely and removed his hand from her pussy. Casey moaned in disappointment. He released her wrists.

Taking her hand he guided it down to her pussy.

"Three fingers. I want you to put three fingers in your pussy. Now!"

She shivered and slid three fingers into her pussy. He untied the thing in her mouth. She took deep breaths as her mouth was freed.

"I want to hear you scream. I want to hear you cum." He pressed his cock against her ass hole. "I want you to fuck yourself with your fingers. Hard. Very hard."

Casey felt the head of his cock press against her ass hole again then he slammed it into her ass. She cried out. He pulled out then slammed into her again. Hard. So very hard.

"Fuck yourself!"

She moved her fingers in and out of her wet pussy feeling his cock pressing against the walls from her ass. He pulled out and slammed into her again and again. Rough and hard. She cried out as he stretched her ass. She fucked herself faster, moaning. The sensations grew. Building with each of his thrusts into her tight ass.

Then she was falling over. The ecstasy made her body jerk and she screamed her release. Wave after wave washed over her quivering body. She gasped trying to get her breath as the sensations of release subsided. He moved out of her and grabbed a fistful of her hair.

Casey was roughly pulled back, then down to her knees.

"Open"

She was confused. He pulled her hair backwards roughly and she opened her mouth in surprise. Then his cock was in her mouth. She gagged as his big cock went deep into her mouth. He pulled her hair back sliding out her mouth.

"You are going to suck me till I cum." He growled at her then pushed her head forward sliding his cock into her open mouth.

He pulled and pushed her head using her hair like a handle. Fucking her mouth. Fast. He was getting more urgent. She tried not to gag as his cock went deep into her mouth, almost down her throat. Casey swallowed hard. It helped her not to gag. He moaned and thrust his hips forward pushing his cock deeper down her throat. Casey tried to move back, gagging. He ignored the sounds she was making and thrust faster into her mouth, pushing and pulling her head in rhythm to his thrusts. Then Casey heard him moan, his cock pulsated in her mouth andhis hot cum squirted into her mouth, down her throat.

She gagged.

"Swallow!" He demanded and shoved his cock into her mouth again.

Casey swallowed hard. His hot cum sliding down her throat. It tasted bitter and sweet. So much cum. He pulled his cock out her mouth and pulled her to her feet. His hands pulled her skirt back down covering her again. Her bra was next and he readjusted it back over her breasts. He re-fastened her blouse. She heard him move off and the zipper of his pants go back up.

"Take the blindfold off."

She removed the blindfold. He was sitting on a green couch in the same suit he had had on earlier. Nothing out of place. No signs from him about what had just happened. He indicated the couch that he had bent her over moments before.

"Please. Have a seat. Now about the decorating of my new house..."

Casey ran her hand through her hair and smoothed it out. Then she sat in the chair indicated.

"I was thinking to not go for modern decorating as the house is more in the older Victorian style." She gave her best businesslike smile.

After all. He was the client...



The Client



Ashley sat at her computer and opened her other e-mail account. She answered the usual barrage of questions meant to test her identity. It was a hassle but it kept hackers from getting her clients' personal information. Most days, it would be a waste of time, nothing more than an empty inbox. Today, she had a single new request.

This particular client was looking for something very unusual -- he wanted a girl who would be perfectly immobile, almost statue-like, no matter what was done to her. Ashley considered this with a smirk. The date requested was a week away. Plenty of time for her to learn to perform to her usual high standards. It was intriguing enough. With a shrug, she clicked on the accept box and copied down the instructions before logging out.

Over the next seven days, she practiced holding various sexual poses as long as she could with absolutely no movement. Poses with her arms and legs stretched to their limits, holding them as long as she could without letting them drop. She did all of these naked, wanting to know if any of the positions would cause her certain troubles on the day itself.

Her training didn't just consist of positions. Since she wouldn't be able to move, her client would most likely try to face-fuck her. Using a variety of dildos, she pushed her gag reflex as far as it would go. It wasn't easy, and she wasn't able to take all of them without choking and sputtering. Hopefully, her client wasn't that large.

The final thing she practiced was cumming while remaining completely still (or as close as was possible) and completely silent. This was the easiest part. She was usually a quiet cummer anyways; well, unless her client wished otherwise. Learning to keep her hips from bucking was a bit trickier but she managed to get it down. Odds were that her client wouldn't be worried about her pleasure anyways.

The day came quickly. Her instructions were to go to a hotel downtown and ask for a room with a particular name. Everything went smoothly, the attractive desk girl handing over the key easily. Ashley headed up to the room and went inside. It was empty, as it was supposed to be.

She stripped all of her clothes off and tucked them into the large handbag she had brought. Nothing she brought was to be in sight so she tucked it behind a bedside table. The final instruction was to stand in the middle of the room, arms by her sides and legs spread slightly apart. She got into position just in time, locking her limbs and facial features as the door opened.

An average looking man stepped into Ashley's vision, a smirk on his face. He went to the desk in the corner and scribbled something on a piece of paper. This piece of paper was held in front of her eyes and had a single word on it: mango. She understood. It was a safe word if she needed to stop for any reason. She couldn't actually acknowledge that she saw it but the client knew she did.

He crumpled the paper and tossed it away, looking over her body with a greedy look. The man slid in and out of her vision, walking all the way around her immobile form. She wasn't ashamed to admit that this was actually turning her on, not making a single move to cover herself. Her body was well taken care of and deserved to be ogled.

The client stopped in front of Ashley and started to pull of his clothes. Quite quickly, she noticed with a small amount of amusement. His smallish cock sprang from his boxers, aching to finally realize a fantasy it desired. It throbbed visually, twitching to and fro as he seemed to consider what he wanted to do to her first.

He put a hand on her shoulder and pushed down gently. Ashley let the man do the work in posing her, selling the illusion as best she could. He got her on her knees, hands down in her lap and mouth open. She was a little disappointed that he started with something so tame.

His cock pushed its way into her mouth, paired with a low moan. He was very cautious at first, watching her face as he went inch after inch. She suppressed a smile at his surprise at being able to fit the whole thing inside with no reaction. The surprise quickly turned to passion as he pumped his cock in and out of her gaping orifice.

Ashley held her head as straight as she could, rocking back and forth gently with each stroke. She kept her breathing calm through her nose, making sure not to panic and choke. It was a little uncomfortable but it didn't take him long. With a loud cry, he spent himself down her throat, pumping several times until every last drop was out.

The man didn't pull out until his cock had gone completely limp, every last drop of his cum drizzling out and coating the inside of her throat and mouth. When he did finally pull out, he walked away out of her cone of vision. She heard the bathroom door shut and a stream of urine start. Quickly, she swallowed several times to clear out her mouth and resumed her position.

If he noticed her slight movement, it didn't bother him. Ashley was grabbed gently on the arms and pulled over to the bed. He placed her onto her back, propping her head up on pillows so she could look down the length of her nude form. Her legs were pulled spread enough that her pussy was clearly in view.

Her client had gotten his earlier arousal out of the way and now took more time looking at her body. His hands seem to touch every part of her body, lingering on her breasts and thighs before moving down to her pussy. She suppressed a pleasurable shiver; his face was so close to her pussy now that his warm breath could be felt.

She hadn't expected what came next. The man started to lick her pussy, attacking the task with a vigor that very nearly caused her to cry out. An urge to thrust her hips and moan rose quickly, an urge that she barely managed to quell. 

It had never occurred to her that he would bother to try and pleasure her. His fantasy was very much self-focused, not concerned with his partner at all. When she saw him smirk up at her unmoving gaze, she instantly understood. This was a game to him. He wanted to see if he could get her to fail.

He very nearly succeeded. The man was very skilled with his tongue and seemed to know the perfect places to linger just a second longer for maximum pleasure. Before too long, Ashley would have put her earlier practice to the ultimate test.

It never got that far. The man pulled away with a large grin. "Not yet," he said quietly. They were the only words he spoke the whole evening.

Her heart beat rapidly in her chest. She felt warm all over and had to concentrate on her breathing to keep it calm and hidden. This was more arousing than she had expected. There was something about letting this man have whatever way he wanted with her. If he kept trying to make her orgasm, success would probably be guaranteed.

Maybe it wouldn't come to that. She could see that his cock was already hard again as he stood up. His arousal was raging violently. His orgasm was certainly more important than hers.

He grabbed at her again, more roughly this time. Quickly, she was made to stand in front of him. Reaching down, he grabbed her right leg and rotated her until it was pointing straight up. She had practiced this pose; otherwise, this might have gone very differently. He pulled one of her arms down to the floor to brace herself in this awkward position.

She felt his cock slide into her pussy, not at all slowly. Biting the inside of her cheek managed to keep her moan from escaping. The cock began to pump in and out of her, each stroke excruciatingly slow. This time, he wanted it to last.

Ashley was on fire all over. She had never been fucked in this position and it seemed to hit all the best spots in her dripping pussy. The pleasurable tremors shot up and down her leg, threatening to make it go limp and drop them both to the carpet. She willed her leg to stay locked with every ounce of strength she had.

Thankfully, this position was brief. It must not have been as good for him. Her leg was pulled down and she nearly sighed with the relief it brought. Her client forced her back onto the bed but onto her hands and knees this time, doggy style. He slid into her just as forcefully but it was much easier to remain quiet like this. Her breasts swayed back and forth painfully but she could endure the discomfort.

The man's strokes began to quicken, his breathing becoming ragged. Just when Ashley thought he was going to burst, her pussy was suddenly empty. She was turned over onto her back again and her legs spread as far apart as they would go, almost sticking out in a straight line horizontally.

Her head fell onto its side. She couldn't turn to look at him without moving. He grabbed her thighs and pulled her closer to the end of the bed. Again, his cock slammed into her without a second's warning, his balls slapping loudly against her body. He pounded her vigorously for a minute before again pausing. She could feel his cock trembling inside her, aching for release.

Ashley felt the man lean over and turn her head, allowing them to meet eye to eye. He kept his gaze locked on hers as he continued to pump, a hungry look in his eyes. Her whole body begged for release, begged for some kind of movement, but she kept herself still. She would not be broken.

Finally, her client couldn't take it anymore. He pumped three more times quickly and the fourth time, he slammed his cock home with a deep moan. She felt the insides of her pussy splattered with his cum, hot and sticky and delightful. It wouldn't have been enough to make her cum if the man hadn't also reached out and rubbed her clit at the same time.

The orgasm was welcome but she fought back as best she could. Her arms and legs wanted to move, her hips wanted to buck, her mouth wanted to open in cry of passion. Every second she lay immobile, it just seemed to build higher and higher. Somehow, she managed to remain still, every ounce of her will begging her body to remain motionless.

The man watched all of this with a mix of amusement and anticipation. She knew that he wanted her to fail at her task. It was all she could do to not stick out her tongue at him in defiance when her orgasm finally subsided. She shivered slightly but it couldn't be helped.

With a sigh, the man pulled himself out of her pussy with a quiet squelch. His cock was covered in a mix of both of their juices. Ashley watched him check the time and groan. He must have had somewhere to be. Her client grabbed his clothes and disappeared into the bathroom. A few seconds later, she heard the shower start.

Her contract was done but she didn't move yet. It was a matter of pride. She knew that if the man came out to see her gone, he would feel that he won. No, she would stay right here, unmoving, until he left entirely.

The juices inside her pussy started to drip out and puddle between her legs. Having nothing better to do, she thought about how good it had felt being fucked while being perfectly immobile. Remaining this way didn't help; she could feel her arousal rising again when thinking about her immobility. It burned even hotter than before and she ached to reach down and answer the call.

She remained that way for ten agonizing minutes while her client took a shower. The door opened quickly, hoping to catch her in the act. The man looked disappointed; she hadn't moved a muscle. He dawdled as long as he could but he never got want he wanted. Finally, thankfully, he left the hotel room.

Ashley waited as long as she could past that, wanting to make sure he didn't double back. Her limbs began to scream in agony, aching to switch positions. The fire between her legs begged to be squelched. Sweat began to drip into her eyes, burning and itching.

She couldn't wait any longer. Her right hand darted down to her pussy and drove three fingers deep inside, pumping in and out. Her left hand went to her clit and diddled it furiously. Barely thirty seconds passed before she had the best orgasm of her life. She screamed loudly, not caring who heard. Her body flopped and flailed, every twitch bringing the fresh pain of muscles being used after a period of disuse.

When it was over, Ashley lay there trembling. It felt like every ounce of energy had left her body. She hadn't expected this job to be just as pleasurable to her as it was to her client. Maybe she would have to break the rules a little and get his name again. The thought brought a smile to her face. As long as it wasn't anytime soon!