Phil pretended to be shocked by his admission. Sophia said, “Are you going to cum in my pussy?” Most guys like Phil wanted it there. It wasn’t scientific or anything, just Sophia’s experience.
“Yes,” Phil nodded. “I’d like that. I’ll put cream in your Twinkie.”
It still sounded dorky, but coming from Phil it was dorky, and sorta cute. Sophia felt the first tingle between her legs, then shifted in her seat.
It was time to turn on the burner.
“You know,” she said, in a purr so low the only one who could possibly hear it was Phil, and just barely. “You can do more than put cream in my Twinkie. You can do anything to me that you want to. Do you have any other ideas?”
Phil thought for a moment, then said, “How nasty can it be?”
Sophia, on cue: “Well, unless you’re hiding something I can’t see, then you can be as nasty as you wanna be.”
Phil was getting visibly excited. “What’s the nastiest thing you’ve ever done, I mean like with a guy like me, a customer?” He looked away again. “Sorry,” he shook his head, “you don’t have to answer that if you don’t want to.”
“No, it’s okay,” Sophia was embarrassed. She wished she wasn’t, but she couldn't help it. She hated telling this story. But there was no reason not to, and Sophia had every reason to keep her client happy. She said, “One time a client paid me to squat on the top of a glass table while he lay underneath.”
“That’s it?”
Sophia shook her head. “He wanted me to poop while he was watching.”
“No way!”
“Yeah.”
“Wow,” Phil shook his head. “I am so sorry. You didn’t deserve that. Believe me, that’s not the sort of thing I’m into at all.”
“I know,” Sophia said, smiling.
“How could you know?” Phil said, suddenly serious. “I could be anyone in the world, and into anything at all. You would have no way of knowing. Maybe I like it when women squat on top of glass tables and poop. Maybe I feel like you’re making fun of me right now.”
“But you don’t, and I’m not,” Sophia smiled. “You just laughed and said you weren’t into that kind of thing at all.” She leaned even closer. “So tell me, Phil, what sort of things are you into?”
The waitress was at the table before Phil could answer. He looked at Sophia. “Last call?” Sophia nodded, glad they had a room with the way he was pounding the alcohol.
“Two more please,” Phil said. The waitress nodded, then left him alone with Sophia’s question.
He hemmed and hawed and took until the waitress returned with their glasses to answer. When he finally did, it was with the dry inducing, “I just want to plunge you until I cum inside you.”
Sophia had seen better fuck lines written in Crayola.
Fortunately, things got really good right after that.
Phil downed his shot, then slithered beside Sophia. His eyes were fixed between her tits and his hand was creeping between her legs. “Glad to see you’re getting more comfortable,” Sophia said, somewhere between a whisper and growl.
He nibbled on her ear, then made his way to her neck. His eyes were closed and his hand was pushing her panties into her crevice.
“Not in here,” she said, looking around to make sure nobody was looking.
“It’s okay,” he insisted, fingers now inside her.
“We’ll get kicked out,” Sophia said, gently pushing him away. “You can make out with me, like we’re in high school,” she said. “But nothing that will get us kicked out. Keep both hands visible. Agreed?”
Phil panted yes, then swallowed her face. Even with his hands visible, he could very well get them both kicked out of The Broadway since one of his hands was gaining purchase on her ass, while the other one was pushing hard enough on her left breast to flatten it.
Sophia only pretended to care, whispering protests, and begging him to stop in between her heavy, muffled moans.
She sank into his kiss; full and deep and wet. It was wonderful, and Sophia knew with a certainty you only get from experience, this would be the highlight of their time together. Even if he managed to fuck her into a chain-gang’s worth of hollers, this was where the fire of passion would crackle the most. A good fucking flooded Sophia with more than just cum, no different from any other proudly nasty girl, but passion was what shattered the dam.
Her tongue danced inside his mouth, darting under and up and around. Phil pulled back, looked Sophia in the eye, then returned for more, this time with his lips in the lead. Their waitress pretended not to notice as Phil mashed his mouth against Sophia’s. He started to climb her, with one hand on her shoulder and the other returning to where it was forbidden to go.
“Take me to your room, pretty please?” Sophia whispered.
Phil leaned in his seat and Sophia put her hand beneath the table, on top of his bulge. “We’re going to need to quiet this guy down. Can you do that, or would you like me to walk in front of you so no one sees.”
The problem with walking in front of him so no one saw meant either walking close enough to arouse him further, or far enough so that everyone would see it anyway. Either way, it was definitely time for the room.
“Walk in front of me,” Phil said.
She stood from the booth, then held her hand out for Phil. He took it, and they left the bar, with Phil staying a single step behind Sophia. Anyone who would have noticed on their way to the elevator pretended not to. Same with the couple they passed when stepping from the elevator and into the sixth floor hallway. The maid a few doors from Phil’s room ignored them too, though by that time Sophia was running her hands up and down the obvious rod pushing against the front of Phil’s pleated pants.
He didn’t waste a second once inside, pushing Sophia to the nearest wall and holding her raised wrists with his left hand as he lifted her shirt to the bra line with his right. Phil unfastened the clasp, spilling Sophia’s breasts into the open air. Her nipples were straight and Phil sucked each one in full.
With one hand still on her wrists and his mouth not yet finished with her tits, he unzipped Sophia’s skirt. It dropped to the floor, revealing her Tiffany blue thong and silver garters. Phil slid his hands up and down Sophia’s stockinged legs, sending a flutter of chills up and down her body.
He took his hands from her wrist, gently threw her to the bed, then peeled the clothes from his body and crawled on top of her.
“Touch yourself,” he commanded.
Sophia slowly teased her Tiffany blue panties from her body, held her leg straight in the air so that Phil could pull them from her ankle. He tossed them on the floor.
Sophia brought her left hand to her right breast and started rubbing it, starting at the nipple, as her right hand stroked her lips just beneath her heart shaped patch of pubic hair.
“Moan for me,” Phil said.
Sophia did.
Her pleasure filled the hotel room. Her moans were slow and steady, but grew deeper when Phil said, “More fingers,” then louder when he added, “and faster.”
“What do you want me to do now?” Phil asked.
Sophia’s legs were splayed across the bed and his face was hovering just a foot from her middle. She was still plunging herself for Phil’s pleasure, but her whimpering was for both of them. The smell of pussy must have hit Phil in a wave because he didn’t wait for her answer, just dove in instead.
She pulled her hands free as Phil’s face conquered her cunt, slapping them on the back of his head and pushed his face deeper. His tongue darted inside Sophia as she squirmed and shrieked and squealed and screeched. She wished he would stay there forever, but she knew he wouldn’t and that she didn’t have any right to complain.
Sure enough, that was all she wrote. A few seconds into Sophia’s shudder, her body gave a fading shake. Phil raised his head from her now flooded fuckhole, then pushed her legs further apart. His cock wasn’t big or small, or thin or fat, but Sophia knew exactly what he wanted to
hear, so she screamed like he was using twelve inches to split her middle.
Phil started slow, but in no time was fucking at the speed of jackhammer. Sophia loved it fast, but not mechanical. Fast was just noise without rhythm. After giving her a pounding on repeat, with Sophia singing in screams like she was auditioning for “Pound Me Loud III,” Phil swung from the bed, pulled her to the edge by her feet and ordered her to turn over. She did and Phil took her from behind.
About fucking time!
Phil’s fuck-stick was finally doing some good, and though Sophia’s screams softened in volume, they bloomed in reality. She would have been happy to spend another hour in euphoria getting drilled from behind, but she had maybe two minutes before hot streams of thick liquid showered her back and inner thighs.
The room filled with quiet, finally broken by Phil saying thank you.
He went to his wallet and pulled out some folded bills, fastened by a decorative paper clip with a plastic flower at the top. “There’s an extra $100 in there,” he said.
Sophia smiled, then said, “That’s okay. It’s really not necessary. I’m not with an agency. I keep everything.”
Phil looked genuinely surprised, for the first time that day. “Oh,” he said. “Well, thanks for telling me.”
“Sure thing,” she said.
“Really,” Phil said. “I can’t pay you enough. And it isn’t just this,” he pointed to the bed. “It’s all of you. You make me feel alive. I’ve looked forward to this all month.”
“Thanks, Phil.” Sophia finished getting dressed, then pecked him on the cheek. “Me, too,” she said.
And she had.
Sophia had been to The Broadway four times before, all with Phil. She loved the hotel, and by now, she also enjoyed every bit of their script. It wasn’t the best fuck in the world, but it was sweet, and it felt safe for him. Sophia, too.
Sophia pulled the covers over her naked body as Phil fixed his tie. He said, “Enjoy the room,” then gave her one final look, went toward the door and added, “See you next month,” before closing the door behind him.
XXX
Brooke Singer: Teaching Newbie How To Fuck
Brooke smiled, slowly running her hands along the length of her arms, across her shoulders, then down, in a teasing V along the neckline of her blouse, hooking her finger into its dip and exposing the soft, creamy line that ran between her smallish, yet perfectly supple tits.
Jake’s mouth hung open, like it had since he first sat in the chair and told Brooke what he wanted. He licked his lips, though not in the way most guys would. Brooke was pretty sure it was involuntary, like the way he kept flexing his fingers and clenching his fists.
The client was cute.
Brooke would have fucked him in five minutes and probably would have been the one asking, if he weren’t paying her handsomely for the chance.
Brooke hadn’t had many clients while working her third of The Pink Triangle, this was her seventh job total, but she’d already made more than she would have made working three months at The Gap part time.
She made a lot more working phone sex than she had at the Gap, which was why she traded folding tees for faux fucking on the phone, but she liked comparing things to her time at the Gap, which she considered the low point of her life’s earning potential. She did like that the Gap had an employee discount, though. She never wanted to buy anything, as the Gap wasn’t her style at all, but she thought it was appropriate. She wished her new job came with a discount to Victoria’s Secret. Seemed only fair.
Though Jake was only Brooke’s seventh client, she was reasonably sure she’d never see another one like him, no matter how long she stayed in the game. First off, he was younger than she was. Brooke had checked his ID, because there was a big difference between selling pussy and selling pussy to a minor.
Jake was nineteen, and good looking enough to get the prom queen wet as a morning daisy, and probably rich enough to get her to fake it if she wasn’t. There was no doubt Jake could probably get a shockingly high percentage of women to fuck him, but he wasn’t really sitting in the chair waiting for a fuck. Of course, Brooke would be leaving the apartment with a fresh cream filling, courtesy of Jake, but that wasn’t really what he was paying for.
Brooke’s nipples were hard, pushing against the thin lace of her icy blue bra. She pulled her blouse over her head, gently, tossed it on the bed, then turned to Jake. She wanted him to see her aroused. Maybe the hard of her nipples would make him think about the wet in her pussy. Brooke could feel the early slick against the sides of her slit. Anyone who thought the hard part of whoring was the fucking, had it all wrong. At least in this case, the hard part was the not fucking.
She was ready as ever, behind a locked door with a guy who wanted to give her a couple of day’s worth of pay for a sweaty good time’s worth of work. She liked how he was sitting in the chair, like a king on his throne. But she wanted to drop to her knees, take his dick, suck it just enough to make him beg, then fuck him into a twisted frenzy.
But that’s not what Jake had paid for, and he deserved to get exactly what he wanted, what he had dreamed of getting. Her pleasure would have to wait.
“Do you like what you see?”
Jake nodded, staring at the swell of her breasts. She reached an arm behind her back and unfastened her bra, then let the sheer fabric fall to the shiny floor of Jake’s three bedroom apartment. Brooke stood naked from the waist up, save for her favorite silver necklace with small pink jewels. She was still in her panties, stockings, garter belt, and heels. “Should I keep my necklace on?” she asked.
Jake nodded.
“How about my shoes?”
He shook his head. She took them off, then tossed them gently in the corner.
“How about my stockings?”
He shook his head and she peeled them off.
“How about my panties?”
He shook his head and she pulled her panties past her ass, then shimmied her waist so they fell to the floor. She stepped out from them, leaving a small puddle of icy blue satin on the ground.
“You sure about the necklace?”
He nodded and Brooke smiled. She loved her silver and pink necklace and hated taking it off. Se loved to wear it while fucking. It made her feel sexy, and was thin and small enough to sit against her skin and stay out of the way. She liked to give guys the option, just to see what they would say. They almost always asked her to leave it on. Brooke figured it was because she had the pussy, and they knew she liked the necklace, but she had asked all seven of her clients, and except for one, they’d all gone for it. She may have had the pussy, but they had the money that paid for the pussy and could get it served however they liked.
“Well, I’d like to keep it on,” she said with an exaggerated pout, “but now I’m afraid that if I don’t take my necklace off, you’re going to leave those boxers on.” Brooke pointed to the red and black striped boxers Jake was still wearing, even though he’d removed everything else. “I can’t show you what you want me to show you until you show me what I need to see.” She giggled.
Jake said nothing.
Brooke dropped to her knees and peeled the boxers from his body. Jake’s cock jerked in response. She wrapped her hands around his shaft. He shuddered at her sudden warmth. She said, “You have to learn to control your cock. When you’re with a woman, her needs should come first. Don’t think about what you need until she gets what she does, multiple times if possible.” Brooke laughed.
Jake laughed, too.
“It’s more rewarding that way.” Brooke started to gently stroke his shaft. “Fast is nice sometimes, but slow and steady can win the race, too.” She sent Jake her sexiest wink. “If you can can please a girl every time, exactly how she likes to be pleased, then she’ll want you, and only you, and will think of no one else.”
“That’s why I’m here,” he said, almost shy.
He had to be the shyest dream fuck she’d ever met. She marveled again at ho
w much she was making for playing with a dick she’d happily slap against her face for free.
Do you teach?
It was the first text he had sent her, a DM on Twitter, which was how all Pink Triangle bookings were made. He had already passed Celeste’s screening, so he’d been given Brooke’s temporary Twitter handle.
Brooke DM’d back: What do you mean? Sorry, I don’t understand.
She had no idea what he meant, and thought maybe it was some sort of sex act that would blow her mind, like the first time she found out about tossed salad. But it turned out, he really did want her to teach him, “how to properly make love to a woman,” as he put it. He wouldn't give any details, and Brooke wasn’t unprofessional enough to ask, but she assumed Jake wanted to earn, or keep, a particular woman. So as much as Brooke wanted to take his gorgeous face and shove it between her legs until it looked like a glazed donut, then replace it with his cock, she had a job to do.
He was shy, but direct about what he wanted.
I want you to show me how to properly make love to a woman. And I don’t care how long it takes. I’ll pay for every hour, but I want to know what a woman wants, so I can do it every time. Teach me how to hold in my cum and make her cum and make her want me when I’m not around. I want to get so good that she imagines doing lots of nasty stuff with me when I’m not around.
It was a tall order since what Brooke thought she should give him and what she knew he wanted to get were sitting on opposite sides of the teeter totter.
Brooke was stroking Jake’s cock about three times faster when she said, “Do you feel yourself starting to lose it.” Jake nodded. “Think of something that’s the opposite of sex. Your parents, work, mowing the lawn.” Brooke realized as she said it, Jake had probably never mowed a lawn in his life, and probably only worked to get kudos on his college application.
Brooke was still working her hands, slightly slower. Jake said, “Can you stop?”
She shook her head. “That’s not the way it works. You wouldn’t want her to stop, would you? It’s her job to excite you, and your job to control it.”
Fifty Shades of Lexi Maxxwell Page 17