Breaking our embrace, he reached into his back pocket, pulling out the remainder of my fee. I looked at the wad of cash incredulously. He chuckled. Picking up the room’s phone, he glanced over and said, “Go ahead and count it, I’m going to order us a bottle from room service.”
He didn’t have to tell me twice. I thumbed through the wad of hundreds he had handed me. He graciously tipped me in advance, adding $1,000 more than my $2,000 evening fee. I hadn’t even had sex with this man and he had already given me $3,000. I was aroused, excited, shocked and grateful. This was like, my entire month’s salary in one night!
Morals and nerves aside, this was motivating. I could get used to this, I thought.
We spent the major portion of our time getting acquainted and having conversation with one another. I guess I should say it was more so as if we got “re-acquainted,” because he refused to treat this experience like we had never seen each other before. His fantasy indulged this idea that he was seeing me again after a long business trip as opposed to the first time ever. He straddled me on his lap, kissed me with lots of passion, and indulged me in affection I hadn’t felt in months.
I felt like I were actually reunited with a long lost boyfriend, not a john or client. Our conversation involved lots of intense eye contact. As he grazed his hands along my hips and thighs, and rested them on the small of my back, we discussed sports, politics, his family and travel. He asked me if I had been on any trips out of the country lately, and I countered by reminding him that I couldn’t just up and leave Dallas after just getting here. “Honey, you know it takes me a minute to get used to a new city. I’m not as bold or adventurous as you are.”
He laughed and looked into my eyes. “Maybe one day we’ll change that, huh?”
He kissed my chin. His hands never left the small of my back, except between sips of his D’usse and or his glass of ice water. He offered me a sip, but I declined. I wasn’t a fan of D’usse. I was already lucky all that amaretto I had before wasn’t wreaking havoc on me.
“You have the most gorgeous eyes, baby,” he said, cupping my jaw with his hand, piercing me with his gaze. “Have I ever told you that?”
“You’re so sweet, baby,” I cooed, giggling. “Actually, you haven’t.”
His passionate demeanor turned me on so much. My nervousness dissipated as the evening progressed. He was making me laugh, saying all the right things and truly getting to know me. He avoided giving his name or asking me for my “real name,” as I read clients were apt to do. He simply kept the conversation light as he caressed my hips, grabbed my butt and kissed my neck, reminding me that I was sexy and beautiful as ever.
I was moist in his presence and found myself really wanting to feel him inside me. At the same time, I knew that I wasn’t obligated, and I was antsy about pushing forward. Sex was implied between the lines of an escort experience, and I knew this man wanted something in return for his time. However, I knew a good escort didn’t rush the client into sex; she waited him out as long as possible and then gave him what he wanted. On the bright side, I was lucky. He wasn’t pushing me into being a sex kitten; he was literally drinking me in, sipping D’usse and winding down after a crazy day at his conference.
Eventually, he let out a light yawn. “I didn’t realize how late it had gotten,” he said, looking at his watch, then looking at me longingly. By this time, the D’usse had saturated his body. His eyes were slightly red from the festivities and he was clearly as relaxed as he needed to be.
He pushed down on my back, grabbing me closer, biting my neck softly. “Come here. I’m ready for you.” Sliding his hand up my dress, he felt for my crotch, which was damp and wet. Groaning at the moisture between my legs, he rubbed my pussy through my panties and added, “You’re clearly ready for me too.”
Horniness overpowered me. Something about him was familiar, sexy and reassuring. I hadn’t felt this close to any man in a long time. Most of all his charm and tempered aggression belied a clear sense of masculinity that oozed from his pores.
I slipped off the spaghetti straps of my dress, revealing my round, cream-colored breasts held captive in a white La Perla demi. He groaned in pleasure and shifted himself under. That’s when I felt his manhood, which had been dormant and respectful thus far, make itself known through his pants.
Reaching forward, he pressed his thumb against the top of my right breast, then my left, pushing them back, up and away, releasing my nipples from captivity. Leaning in, he began sucking my right nipple as he thumbed and caressed the left. Months of sexual frustration released itself in pleasure from moans that escaped my mouth and further betrayed my cool. I had kept a cool and united demeanor until now. I didn’t want to reveal or admit how long it had been.
“Big, beautiful titties,” he growled, pushing them together and jiggling them. “It’s about time you freed these big, beautiful titties.”
“You miss them, sweetie?” I said, trying to stay in my role.
“Fuck, yes I do.” He pushed my nipples next to each other and licked back and forth between them, further exciting me. “I love these big, fat tits. Take my cock out.”
He sucked on them harder for a few minutes, nearly bringing me to the brink of orgasm. My pussy soaked through my panties, which were also La Perla and matched the bra I wore. My scent wafted up to his nose. “I can smell your pussy from here. You love this shit, don’t you? Take it off for me.”
I stepped back, eyes half-mast, and obeyed. I looked at him, inhibitions gone, tossing my dress to the side, and taking my bra off. I was already barefoot. He undid his belt, unzipped his pants, and freed the erection that had been straining against the denim. His penis was a sizable seven and a half inches, thick with a large vein running through it.
Stroking his hardness, he took control of the situation. “Keep your panties on. Play with your titties for me.”
Listening to him felt natural for me; his energy began to show itself as slightly dominant and aggressive, which turned me on tremendously. This was everything I wanted to experience in a man. I felt overwhelmed with gratitude and desire, and a need to express my submissive, feminine gratitude by pleasing him.
He soaked up my energy by masturbating himself to my seductive show, growling and uttering phrases of sexual approval that involved praising my “big, beautiful titties” and “gorgeous body.”
“Get on all fours and crawl to me,” he growled, low and guttural.
I obeyed him, sinking my knees onto the carpeted floor, making eye contact with his dark, gaze. He held a lustful sneer. It was primal and erotic, made even more animalistic by the way he stroked his shaft, ragged and fervently.
Spreading his thighs further apart, he opened his mouth, prompting me to do the same. I swallowed back a tiny bubble of nervousness, which I attributed to a last-second momentary reminder this wasn’t my man, but a client. An actual client who paid for me, my time, and most importantly my body. Which meant it didn’t matter how nervous I was; I’d have to push it out of my mind and satisfy him the best way I knew how.
By giving him exactly what he wanted.
I locked eyes with him as I stuck the tip of my tongue out and licked his frenulum, which I knew was the most sensitive area of the penis. I pointed the tip and circled the area just a bit as he firmly held his cock in place. He rewarded me with groans of pleasure as I worked my tongue over his terrain. I felt my clit stiffen in response. If I wasn’t already soaking wet before this point, I damn sure was now.
I started to change from being on all fours so I could grip the base, but that’s not what he had in mind. “No hands. Mouth only. All fours. Suck it.”
He watched his cock disappear in and out of my mouth as he held the base with one hand and took swigs of the rest of the D’usse in the other hand. I closed my eyes and flexed my thighs to focus on the dirty pleasure I’d feel, but he’d command me to keep them open.
My nipples hardened from excitement; they were hard to the point of stinging. I felt we
tness leak into the crotch of my panties. My breasts and ass jiggled back and forth in rhythm with my head bobbing. I wanted to touch myself so badly, but I couldn’t since I was sucking him off on all fours.
Eyes dark with lust, he sat back with quiet dominance, indulging royally in my oral worship like a King watching his young chambermaid polish his royal scepter. Thrusting his hips to the cadence of my sucks, he growled, groaned and praised my head skills. He stood up, dropping his pants to the ground. Placing his hands on the back of my head, he repositioned himself in front of me, widening his stance. His knew position pulled up from being on all fours with his shaft still firmly embedded in my mouth.
“Don’t move,” he said. “Stay still and look at me.”
His dominant side was clearly showing at this point. As I looked up at him, eyes watering with a mouthful of cock, he looked deeply into mine. He said nothing, simply sank his fingers into my scalp and wrapped them tightly around my loose golden ringlets.
“God, you look so fucking sexy with my dick in your mouth,” he groaned, thrusting more of himself into me.
He began pumping his shaft at a quickened rhythm, setting a new pace for our encounter. Spit started to coat his crotch. I smelled his pheromones, the natural musky scent embedded in his trimmed, yet thick, pubic hair and moaned in frustration and desire. My obvious reaction to his body turned him on more. I felt his dominant vein rub against the grain of my tongue at a faster pace.
“That’s a good slut. Suck it harder. Suck my cock like the slut you are.” I continued moaning, giving him direct eye contact as he pumped. His balls, freed from his boxer briefs, began slapping my chin.
He reached a hand down and began fondling my breasts. They were now supersensitive, and as a result, I moaned louder as I felt a fresh wave of honey gush from below.
“Oh yeah, you like that huh?” He said, thrusting vigorously. “You like having your tits played with? You’re all wet. Play with your pussy for me baby. Play with for Daddy while my dick’s in your mouth.”
Resuming his seat, he continued playing with my tits while I started masturbating furiously. My entire pussy was fucking soaked with pussy cream, and I was nearly screaming for release. I wanted to cum so bad. But right before I could cum, he stopped me and made me beg for it.
“Stop!” He said. “Stop sucking. Stop playing with yourself. Stop.”
I did as I was told, frustrated and anxious. I released his hardness from my oral grip when he scolded me. “Put it back in your mouth. We’re not done yet.”
Moments passed. He looked at me quietly.
“You want to cum?”
“Mm-hmm,” I said, as best I could, considering the circumstances. Have you ever tried talking with your mouth full? Not easy.
“Tell me you want to cum.” He pulled himself out my mouth and bounced the head on my lips.
“I want to cum.”
“I want to cum, Daddy.”
“I want to cum, Daddy.”
He cupped my jaw with his hand, caressing it with his thumb. “Beg.”
“Daddy I’ve been such a good, cocksucking girl. Please let me cum. I’m so wet. I’m about to explode. Please, please, pleeeeeeeeeeease?”
“Okay. You can cum... But only while you continue sucking my dick.”
I eagerly obliged him and resumed sucking, this time hungrily as I inserted one, then two, fingers in my pussy and leaned in to take as much of him as possible. He coaxed me as I worked myself into frenzy. “That’s a good girl, that’s it, make yourself cum while you make me cum. Make yourself cum while you make me cum…”
I hit the peak of bliss under his alpha male guidance and exploded all over my hand. I moaned extremely loud with him in my mouth, but he didn’t seem to mind because by the third moan he started cumming in my mouth.
“OH! Oooh! Oh, fuck! Shit, ahhh, ahhh, ahhh!” he moaned, holding my head down as he released his load into my mouth. “Mmmmm, take that, you naughty bitch.”
He leaned over and slapped my ass as he came down off the waves of his orgasm, calling me a good girl for swallowing. Once he regained stamina, he dropped the whole boyfriend act almost immediately. He went to the bathroom and closed the door. I heard him urinate, no doubt releasing all the alcohol he’d been drinking. Within 10 minutes, he’d washed up and left without saying another word, leaving me with only a mouthful his aftertaste and a hotel room full of memories.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Two weeks passed since turning my first trick. Clients began to trickle in. For the most part, I avoided sex as much as possible. My ads explicitly and cleverly worded I was a good time, but when my clients called or inquired, I made it clear they were paying for my companionship. It was a no-no in the game to explicitly offer sex in exchange for money.
To be honest, I wanted sex… but not from a client. At least none of the clients I serviced after the first one. He didn’t leave me in the most affectionate manner, but he was stuck on my mind for a long time after our encounter.
In the real world, this was the kind of man I would have been attracted to. He was tall, handsome, intelligent and clearly well off. He also knew how to make me feel at home and we had intense chemistry.
I didn’t allow myself to get too caught up though. We had fun, yes, but the truth wasn’t as glamorous and romantic as I wanted to imagine. He was a client. He paid me to fulfill a fantasy. As soon as he had climaxed, everything ended and he left me in the blink of an eye before his nut fully entered my belly. No goodbye. No wave. No wink. Not even a second look. Nothing.
Besides, where could I find a man like him in Dallas? Clearly he wouldn’t be in any of the places I frequented, because one, I never went anywhere, and two, I didn’t know where the hotspots of affluent men were. I heard Plano, Frisco and McKinney had a couple of great bachelors, but they would be too far for me to meet on my schedule. Men downtown might have been an option as well, if I had the time. But the truth was I didn’t. I needed to handle my business first, before I ended up getting romantically involved with any man. I was an escort now.
For the most part, I hadn’t made complete peace with being an escort. It’d only been two weeks and I’d experienced my fair share of ups, downs and annoyances. There were times when men were rude assholes who were pushy and demanded sex immediately. Some would come to me un-groomed and needing a shower. They were cross when I refused sex. I would gladly give these men back their money because I refused to do business with them. Other times, I swallowed my pride and had sex with them, not because I wanted to, or because I was proud of it; because I really needed the money and the fees they offered were too good to pass up. It’s harder to turn down quick sex for $1500 when you remember that your check barely reaches that amount after 80 hours of hard work at the office.
Speaking of work, office life seemed to be going okay. Things had slowed down a bit after the holidays, so I didn’t have too many communications memos to prepare. I got to take longer lunches, which I used to book appointments, and even cut out a little earlier to meet with clients.
I completely took off Valentine’s Day weekend. Initially I wanted to go celebrate by myself, but a client I had seen a couple of weeks ago, Brian, had flown into town and wanted to spend time with me. He offered $15,000 for a 3-day weekend, which was the most I had ever gotten from a client thus far.
I wasn’t particularly attracted to him. He was older, slightly balding, in his 40s and he was keen on having sex. But he was a good for stimulating conversation since he worked in finance, and he also had a lot of money, so there was no turning him down.
I didn’t have too much time to prepare for him, but he took me shopping at North Park, allowing me to buy some new clothes and shoes to wear for him, as well as lingerie. He handed me his store card and excused himself for a small while, telling me he’d be right back and just wait for him in the area when I was done.
That evening, over dinner, he presented me with a gift bag from Na Hoku. Inside were a yellow gold plumeria brac
elet with diamonds, along with the matching earrings and ring. The jewelry easily cost several thousand dollars! No man I dated or slept with ever spoiled me with that amount of money in a gift.
“Happy Valentine’s Day,” he winked. “You can thank me later.”
And that I did. Like I said, I wasn’t deeply into having sex with my clients – I really gave them as much conversation, alcohol and head as possible, or rushed through sex, faking it so they’d come quick and get worn out – but I went all out for him. I sucked, fucked and even rode cowgirl on his short but girthy length for him a couple of times, screaming and cumming like I loved him. In a way, I put on a show, and I’m sure he was aware of it in a sense, but it was money well spent and earned on both ends.
****
My review came up at the end of February. Dean and the company were highly impressed with my work, so I was able to negotiate a raise. Instead of $38,500, I was made closer to $43,000. Initially, they wanted to bump me to $40K, but when I pointed out my education and my accomplishments, coupled with statistical data of salary ranges in Dallas, they couldn’t argue with me. I wanted $45K – which I should have been making from the door, but this was an agreeable compromise that was working very well for me.
Succulence (Succulent Trilogy #1) Page 3