by Lizzy Grey
“Don’t,” she begged. “Please.”
“But I’m hurting you.”
“No.” She clasped his face and covered it with kisses. “No, you’re not. I love your cock inside me.”
“I love you, Freya.”
She squeezed her eyes closed so she wouldn’t cry. “No. Don’t say that.”
“I must.” She felt him kiss her lips. “I’ve tried to hate you but I can’t. I love you.” Feeling him move inside her, she opened her eyes. “I love you,” he whispered as he slowly moved in and out of her. “I love you.”
She smiled as he gradually began to increase the speed of his thrusts and reached up to hold onto his upper arms, feeling the hard muscles through his white shirt. Throwing her head back, she cried out again, her own pussy muscles clenching tightly around him. Her back arched towards him, her breasts pressing against his chest, as he jerked against her.
He gently withdrew from her and she rubbed herself as he gathered her into his arms, kissing her earlobe and her neck.
“I love your cock,” she murmured.
“Freya, promise me that you won’t work for that man. He’ll turn you into a whore.”
“I am a whore.”
“No, you’re not.”
“I go out every Wednesday night looking for cock,” she slurred. Letting her go, he leant over her, his face white with shock. “None of them could ever match your huge cock, though,” she added and snuggled up to him.
“How many men have you had sex with?” he asked, his voice sounding husky.
She shrugged. “Don’t know. Lots. I couldn’t get cock at home and I wasn’t allowed to get cock from you, so I went out to find casual cock.”
“Your husband isn’t sleeping with you? Why the hell not?”
“You spoilt me,” she told him instead of answering. “That enormous cock for my birthday present and you not being freaked out by my scar.”
“Why isn’t Marcus sleeping with you, Freya?” Jamie demanded.
“Samantha.”
“Answer me, Freya,” he commanded before she heard him gasp. “He’s gay. He is, isn’t he?”
“I want a drink.” She went to get off the bed but he pulled her back.
“Did you know he was gay before you married him?”
“I want a drink.” She began to struggle and he swore and let her go. She went to the mini bar, opened it and took out another vodka miniature and felt him watch her as she downed it in two gulps.
“How long have you been drinking like that?”
“None of your business.”
“Do you have a drink problem, Freya?”
“Samantha,” she corrected him, before staggering back two steps and laughing. “Oops.”
“Do you have a drink problem?” he asked again.
“None of your business,” she replied again.
“Please, let me help you.”
“You can’t. Would you like me to suck you off, Mr Doe?” she offered.
“No, I would not.”
“Why not?”
“I don’t want you to.”
“There must be a reason why?” she asked.
“There is, but I’m not telling you.”
“Secrets, secrets,” she murmured, delving into the mini bar again and emerging with a miniature cognac. “I hate this stuff but—” She unscrewed it and gulped it down, a trickle sliding from the corner of her mouth and down her neck. “Messy,” she whispered.
“Come here.”
She threw the bottle into the bin and climbed onto the bed. Turning her to face him, Jamie pulled a handkerchief from his trouser pocket and wiped the corner of her mouth, trailing the cognac down her neck and to her cleavage. She sighed with pleasure as he eased her dress down a little and his tongue delved between her breasts. Taking his other hand, she guided it down her body and between her legs.
He began to massage her clit in a circular motion with his thumb and she began to move with his thumb. Pulling her back against him, he held her as she came, whimpering with delight.
“You have a drink problem, Freya,” he told her softly.
“I have a cock problem.”
“Promise me you’ll get help to stop drinking?”
“Put your cock in me again?” she mumbled and reached behind her, closing her fingers around it and smoothing her thumb over the tip. She felt him tense, turned around and smiled. “Good cock, get hard for me?” She pumped his cock with her hand and felt him gasp and it harden. “Good cock.” She laughed and patted it lightly with her fingers before reaching for a condom and sliding it on. Placing her hands on his shoulders, she straddled him and sank down onto him, taking him into her completely. “I love your huge cock.” She sighed and began to rock her hips.
“Oh, God.” He groaned and she smiled, enjoying her power over him. Taking her hips in his hands, he pulled at her lips, before suddenly lowering her onto her back and thrusting steadily into her. “Does my huge cock satisfy you?” he asked, his voice little more than a grunt, and she squeaked a reply. “Is mine the biggest cock you’ve ever had inside you?”
“Yes.”
“Good. I love you and I want to be the only man who can satisfy you. The only man. Tell me you love me.”
“I can’t,” she whimpered, forcing her hands over her head and having to hold onto the edge of the bed. “I daren’t. Don’t force me into saying it – I can’t.”
He didn’t reply, just thrusted even faster and she began to moan, feeling herself coming. She came with a howl and he came with one last deep thrust before he fell on top of her. He was heavy but she didn’t care. He loved her. Letting go of the bed, she stroked his hair for a moment before realising he was crying.
“Don’t cry.”
“I’m so scared for you,” he told her in a thick voice. “You’re drinking and fucking around and I’m terrified something is going to happen to you.” He raised himself up onto an elbow, his blue eyes shining with tears. “I’m going to wait for you, Freya. Remember that. I love you and I’m going to wait for you. I will take care of you. I’ll help you stop drinking.”
“I need to go.”
“I’ll hail a cab to take you home.”
She smiled “Okay.”
“Good. When can I see you again.”
“You can’t,” she whispered softly and his face dropped. “I’m sorry.” Sliding off the bed, she rubbed herself before reaching for her panties and putting them on, while he did up his trousers. “Please, find me a cab so I can go home.”
In the lift, she checked her appearance in the mirror. Her lipstick was smudged, so she rubbed it off and took the opportunity to kiss Jamie before the lift doors opened. Taking her hand, he led her through the hotel lobby and out onto the pavement. Hailing a cab, he opened the door for her.
“I’ll see you in July.” She kissed his lips, almost toppling off the curb and onto the street. Jamie grabbed her arm and the cab driver twisted around in his seat.
“She’s pissed.”
“So you’ll make doubly sure she gets home safely,” Jamie told him icily and helped her into the back seat. “I love you,” he whispered. “And I’ll be waiting for you in July.”
He slammed the door closed and the cab took her away from him. When the cab stopped outside the off license, she realised she had automatically given the driver that destination. She paid him and got out then checked her handbag. The litre bottle of vodka was half empty. Going into the off license, she bought another two, drank half of one in the alleyway, before tottering home.
Chapter Eight
Waking at half past two the following afternoon, Freya stared up at the ceiling. These days she didn’t even get a hangover, she was probably still a bit drunk. No, she was always drunk these days. Drunk and horny. Marcus would be back in six days’ time so what could she do to have fun in the meantime? Her clit throbbed and she rubbed it but it still throbbed and she reached down to the floor for the ever-present bottle of vodka. Sitting up, she
gulped some down and burped. Classy, Freya, she scolded herself.
Leaning back against the headboard, she took another gulp of vodka and stared at the black dress hanging on the outside of her wardrobe. It needed to be worn. And the red platform shoes. Which nightclub tonight? It was a Friday night and there were hundreds to choose from. Reaching across to the bedside table, she picked up the smartphone and swore. There was no credit left. She couldn’t use her iPhone because she had caught Marcus using it one day so, opening her underwear drawer, she lifted out a small purse and extracted her old sim card from it. She inserted it into the smartphone and switched it on. Going to her messages, she saw that there were fifty opened messages from Jamie and another fifty or so new ones. She opened the most recent message, sent at two o’clock that morning.
I love u Freya. Please stop what ur doing. Ur 2 good 4 all that. July isn’t that far off. Plan 4 when we can be 2gether. I love u Freya
If she read any more of them, they’d only make her cry so, sighing, she ignored them. She accessed the internet, typing “best London nightclub for casual sex” into the search engine. Her eyes widened as pages upon pages of suggestions were displayed. The top one was a nightclub called Perfect Strangers and she couldn’t help but laugh. So that was where ‘John Smith’ had got the name for his new agency from. She opened the link, but all the pictures showed happy, smiley young people dancing. Still, she’d check it out that evening and if it wasn’t all it boasted, there were hundreds of others to choose from.
She took another swig from the bottle then frowned. What had Jamie said last night? Something like, ‘his agency’ or the agency ‘he owned’. When Liz and Amanda had hired him, he had worked for an agency called London Escorts and she quickly searched for the website. It was still the same, except the page on ‘Simon’ had gone.
She typed Jamie’s name into the search engine but it brought up hundreds of James Watson’s and none of the top few were him. Typing in “James Watson” + “London Escorts” drew a blank as well so she finally typed in “Simon Harrison” + “escort agency”. Bingo. The top result was London Introductions, Simon Harrison was the contact person, and she clicked on the link.
It was a very snazzy website and she sipped at the vodka as she skimmed through the pages. Started earlier that year. Only the best high-class escorts. All tastes catered for. The photos showed various young women, most of whom had false breasts. Jamie loved her real breasts but, yes, all tastes had to be catered for. She saved the website to her favourites then hauled herself out of bed and into the bathroom to scrub off the previous night’s makeup and apply some fresh.
She emphasized her eyes again, making them look dark and seductive and applied a dark red plumping lip gloss, which did wonders for her mouth. Face done, she began on her hair, just about recreating the shaggy look of the day before. Returning to her bedroom, she began pulling bras out of a drawer before selecting a black push up bra which would emphasise her already considerable breasts. She smiled at herself in the wardrobe mirror and jiggled her breasts up and down before selecting and putting on matching panties and black stockings. She stepped into the black dress, zipped it up, and slipped her feet into the platform shoes then surveyed herself in the mirror. A year ago, she wouldn’t have recognised herself. She smiled and raised the vodka bottle to herself before gulping down half of it. Placing the lip gloss in her handbag beside the ever-present vodka bottle, she reached for her long winter coat and put it on.
She left the house and hailed the first cab she saw telling the driver to take her to the central London hotel she had been in the previous night, but this time she went into the bar and ordered a large vodka. She downed it too quickly and she sighed, angry at herself, and ordered another. She sipped at it, wondering what to do to kill time until the nightclub opened. Taking out her smartphone, she accessed the internet and went to the London Introductions website. Where was it located? Clicking on ‘Contact Us’, she groaned, there was only a telephone number and an email address. Gulping down the rest of her vodka, she extracted some change from her purse, went to a payphone in the foyer and rang the number. A woman answered.
“London Introductions.”
“Oh. Yes, I was wondering if you had any vacancies for escorts?”
“We do. Could you describe yourself, please?”
“Oh. Well, I’m thirty, five feet seven, slim, good breasts and legs, brown hair, brown eyes… Would Mr Harrison be available to interview me today? I could come to your offices?”
“I’m afraid Mr Harrison isn’t available today but if you could email a CV and photograph of yourself to the email address on the website, we will get back to you.”
“All right, I’ll do that. Thank you.”
Disappointed, she hung up and went out onto the street. Buying a sim card in a convenience store and adding a considerable balance to it, she returned to the hotel bar.
Ordering a third vodka, she brought it to a table in a corner and inserted the new sim card into her smartphone. Entering “Casual Sex” + London into the search engine, her eyes widened. There were hundreds of websites offering casual sex hookups. But first things first. Accessing a web-based email service, she created a new email address with the username ‘Samantha’. Returning to the casual sex websites, she clicked on one and created a profile, taking a discreet pouting selfie and uploading it. To be on the safe side, she created profiles on two further websites then sat back, sipped her vodka and waited.
In less than ten minutes, her phone began to vibrate.
“Hello?”
“Samantha?” a man’s voice asked.
“Yes.”
“I saw your profile. Do you like anal?”
She’d never done anal, so she didn’t know. “No,” she said, and the man hung up. “Well, your loss,” she muttered. Minutes later, her phone vibrated again. “This is Samantha.”
“I’m Paul, thirty years old, based in west London. I have an athletic build and a high sex drive. I'm looking for casual, discreet, safe, fun times with a like-minded woman to possibly become a regular affair. I'm really open to anything. My erect penis is seven inches long and has a wide girth. Fit the bill? Get in touch. More pics available on request.”
“You’re just reading your profile, aren’t you?”
He sighed. “Sorry. Is it that obvious?”
“A bit. Will you send me a photo to the email on my profile so I can see you?”
“Okay, just a sec.” She heard nothing but silence for a few moments and was about to end the call when he spoke again. “All right, it’s done.”
“Thanks. I’ll take a look and—”
“Is a seven-inch cock not big enough for you?” he demanded.
“Well, I have had bigger inside me.”
“But you’re looking for some cock right now, aren’t you?” he added.
“Yes, but I don’t want an affair. I like keeping my options open.”
“Fair enough. Where are you?”
“In a hotel bar.”
“There’s a guest house called The Coach House on Cleaver Street. If you want cock, meet me there in fifteen minutes.”
She ended the call and accessed her email. Paul was handsome enough but she didn’t want to have sex with a stranger in some grotty side street guest house.
She deleted his email and opened the next one. ‘John’, was aged thirty-five. He had a seven-inch cock. Would like to hook up in a nightclub. Did she know Perfect Strangers? She smiled and opened his photo. He was dark-haired and dark-eyed and she smiled. He’d do. She clicked on reply.
Hello, John. Yes, I know Perfect Strangers. Meet me at the bar.
Clicking on send, she gulped down the rest of the vodka and put the smartphone in her handbag. She’d better find the nightclub now.
Leaving the hotel, she tottered down the street and around the corner. Perfect Strangers looked respectable enough and, leaving her coat and handbag with the cloakroom attendant, she went straight to the bar with a twen
ty-pound note and ordered a vodka.
“Samantha?”
Turning, she saw the same face as in the photo and smiled. “John?”
“Yes.” He slid onto the stool beside her. “What are you having?”
She held up her glass. “I’ve just got a vodka.”
“Okay.” He ordered a bottle of lager and took a sip from it. “You’re new on the website.”
“Yes, I am. I thought I’d give it a try.”
“I’d have thought someone like you wouldn’t need to find sex online.”
“I could say the same about you,” she said.
He smiled. “Shall we, then?”
“Yes.” Taking her hand, he led her across the dance floor, which was quickly filling up. “Where are we going?” she asked as they passed the toilets.
“Private booth,” he replied simply.
The booth was small, lit by a single light bulb and contained a large circular seat covered in burgundy velour. It was about as seedy as it was possible to be and her heart began to thump with anticipation and a few nerves as he closed the door and turned to face her.
“I want you to suck my cock.”
“I don’t suck cock, I just take it in my pussy.”
“Get undressed, then.”
“I don’t do that either,” she said and he gasped with irritation.
“Look, Samantha, stop pissing me about.”
She quickly slid her panties down, stepped out of them, then sat on the bench with her legs open. To her relief, he shrugged and undid his trousers, taking out his cock.
“Pump this,” he ordered, taking her hand and clamping her fingers around it. She pumped his cock as he pulled a packet of condoms out of his trouser pocket. “Harder,” he ordered and she worked her hand up and down, wondering how she wasn’t hurting him and felt him stiffen. “Good.” He slapped her hand away and rolled on a condom. “Get on your hands and knees.” She climbed onto the bench and jumped as he grabbed her thighs, turning her away from him then pulling her hard onto him. It hurt and she cried out.
“That hurt.”