The Scorpion's Sweet Venom

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by Bruna Surfistinha


  He kept going, and I couldn't stand it any longer - I was about to explode and do God knows what. I don't know, I'd have done whatever occurred to me at that moment. I didn't close my eyes again, so he couldn't catch me off guard. But I kept my face turned away . . . and it passed through my mind that, my father was the only man I'd let slap me across the face. But at that moment I saw that any man was capable of hitting me in the face . . .

  Finally the hour was up. I got up and said it wasn't my fault he hadn't come. But what I could do was give him a hand job. And that's what we did. He got dressed, paid and left. I sat on the sofa and stared at the money for ages. All the anger I'd been feeling passed and was replaced with pity. Yes, because we should pity men like that, not be angry with them. He was a man who'd never been loved-he himself told me, the first time, that he'd nevereven been engaged. I know why. He doesn't need to say a thing because you can see in his eyes how sad and alone he is. And his aggressiveness in bed is just a reflection of the fact that he's never been loved.

  ~

  A client came from out of town just to visit me. OK, so the town is close to Sao Paulo . . . But even though it's not very far, it was a big gesture, because there are pros in his town. But he came here for me. He belonged to some Oriental religion - I didn't catch the name properly. He even blessed me. We sat in front of one another holding our hands out and he said some things that I couldn't understand either . . . He told me he'd said a prayer for me to purify my spirit. And would you believe, it worked? It's true . . . I felt really relaxed afterwards. It's true.

  Out of the blue, he asked, 'Would you like to meet Zequinha?' It took a minute for the penny to drop, but I said yes anyway. When he took off his pants, I understood that he called his dick Zequinha . . . Each to his own, right?

  ~

  The best thing that happened at the swingers' club was meeting up again with a couple I'd met there three months before. The woman and I hadn't done anything; we'd just swapped partners. He's a really sexy guy in his forties - the sort I'm attracted to and would like for myself. A few grey hairs, a naughtylook in his eye, great body - and good in bed. When I saw him, he was sitting down and I was on the dance floor. He smiled at me. Later, when she wasn't near by, he pulled me close and gave my neck and earlobe a lick and a few little nibbles, the sort that can't not turn you on. Discreetly, he handed me a card with his phone number on it and asked me to call him so we could meet up alone. But my client got jealous and didn't let me go with him.

  I started something with a blonde, who was actually not bad . . . I was dying for some cunt, so I asked straight out if I could go down on her and she said yes. She sat down and I went down on her for quite a while, but she didn't come. While I was doing it, her husband kept caressing me - and I started to feel sick. I don't like it when men keep touching me while I'm with a woman.

  But, on my other side, there was another woman who was touching me even more. It was a gentle touch, even though it was through my clothes. I could feel her softness.

  She whispered in my ear, 'You're really sexy. Can I kiss you?'

  My God! Why did she do that? I didn't think twice. I abandoned the blonde and leapt into the arms of the brunette, who was much sexier. We kissed a lot, I sucked her nipples a lot (she hadsilicone implants too), and she sucked mine. She talked dirty with me and I could tell she was turned on and acting naturally.

  'I love young girls like you,' she said.

  She must have been about thirty. I think we were together for more than half an hour . . . First, she went down on me until I came. Then I did the same to her.

  We were really affectionate with each other, so much so that I made a point of saying goodbye to her. When I hugged her, I said, 'I really enjoyed being with you.'

  Ah, how I'd like to meet her again somewhere else, without any men around. Just the two of us. I should have asked for her phone number. I don't know why but that woman fascinated me. So much so that I lost the desire for others.

  ~

  My boyfriend and I were on our way home one night and we passed through an area where several transvestites turn tricks. I was a bit tipsy, and wanted to find out what kind of person picks up trannies. Nothing against transvestites. I think people can do whatever they want with their own body and it's no one else's business. I hung around a quiet street corner for about forty minutes. Pedro parked the car near by and kept out of sight so no one would realise he was keeping an eye on me.

  It was pure adrenalin, because I was switched on to everything. I stayed on the lookout for transvestites who might want to ask me what I was doing there (after all, I might have been on someone else's corner), kept an eye on Pedro's car because it stands out, and checked out the people inside the cars that stopped . . .

  I was really cold, because, even though I was wearing jeans, I only had a singlet T-shirt on . . . which brings me to the first thing I want to mention, because I've noticed that all transvestites work semi-naked, even when it's cold.

  During the time I was there, more than ten cars stopped. I don't know exactly how many because I lost count after ten. Of the ones that stopped, only three really thought I was a transvestite; the others realised I was a woman.

  It was funny because one stopped and said, 'You're a woman, aren't you?' I said yes, and he replied, 'Thank God . . . at last I've found one round here, but you're working the wrong corner, you know . . .'

  There's one that I can't leave out. He thought I was a transvestite and even asked me how well-hung I was. We chatted a bit and I quickly noticed a ring on his left hand. I couldn't let this fact slip and asked if he was married. He said he was. So I asked if his wife knew he was in the habit of picking uptransvestites and he answered, 'She has no idea I do this, nor must she ever find out!'

  So someone likes transvestites. Fine . . . it's nobody else's business . . . but why marry a woman??? If they like transvestites, fine, but for Christ's sake, marry one. It's simple . . . I've heard so many stories of men who've married transvestites and don't feel ashamed or guilty about it. Now these guys are real men! Because they own up to what they like . . .

  Another car stopped with two young guys in it . . . They didn't let me down and realised I was a woman. I asked if they liked transvestites and they said in unison, 'No way, we like women.' There was one who stopped and asked right off if I was a transvestite. I said yes. He stared at my crotch and said, 'C'mon, it doesn't look like you've got a dick in there.' So I said, 'That's because it's limp.' But I couldn't contain myself and started to laugh, and he realised I was playing with him. There was also one who looked like a nutcase who said, 'How much for a quick blow job?'

  To put the guys off picking me up, I hitched the price up. When the car wasn't all that hot, I told them my price was 100 reais, because I knew it would be too expensive. And when the car was better, I said it was 300, because even guys who looked like they had money knew this was a lot to charge in that area.

  No one complained about my price, they just said they didn't have that kind of money on them, while some tried to haggle. One said, 'You're really worth it, but I've only got 40 reais in my wallet. Can't you do something for 40?' I laughed . . . and said no . . . because really, I wouldn't charge that even for a quick wank.

  I really was charging a lot for someone who solicits on street corners, seeing as the people who do this charge 50 reals at the most. One guy said that no one he'd picked up on the street had ever charged him more than 40.

  I had a bit of a laugh at an older guy's expense, but he didn't even notice. He stopped, thinking I was a transvestite, but when he got close, he looked me up and down and realised I wasn't. Even so, we chatted a while and I asked if he picked up transvestites very often. He said he did. I asked why he liked them and he replied that being with a transvestite satisfied his desire to be with a man and a woman at the same time. I asked if his arsehole was nice and stretched and he answered, very seriously (thinking I was being serious too), that he thought so, because it didn'
t hurt any more when he was getting buggered.

  ~

  I once had a real smut session with two guys. One of them had already been my client. While I gave one ablow job, the other just watched us and wanked himself off. The one I was sucking off came in my mouth. Then I got to work on the other one and made him come like that too. I lay down and the two of them sucked on my nipples at the same time. Very nice. Meanwhile, I felt one of them masturbating me. I only didn't come because he doesn't know how to masturbate a woman. But I appreciated his intention . . .

  I got on all fours, and while one gave it to me, I blew the other. At the same time. The one I was blowing came first, but the other one took a little longer. Being with two men really turned me on . . .

  ~

  One night, at a swingers' club, I got with a sexy brunette. She was having sex with her partner and I sat next to her to touch her. I couldn't resist and started sucking her nipples, which were delicious. We kissed a lot, but it didn't go any further than that. I was dying to go down on her, but I didn't manage to pluck up the courage. We swapped partners and it was great. I enjoyed her partner and he gave it to me the way I like it. Unfortunately, he came quickly.

  As we were leaving, I saw a really sexy blonde at a table, accompanied by an old man who could have been her grandfather, I swear. She grabbed me, but I noticed she was drunk. I stood in front ofher and she slipped one of my breasts out and started sucking it. While she licked my nipple, she stared at me without blinking. Really nice stuff. But my client wanted to leave.

  ~

  I answer the phone and the guy asks me straight up, 'Do you give brown showers?' Well, I'd given golden showers on several occasions, but I'd never given anyone a brown shower. I'll explain both. Golden showers are when the client asks you to pee on them, while he wanks off. Generally they prefer to have their shower after they've had a bit of sex so they can reach climax with their 'special request'. Of course, it's not easy. First, you have to drink a lot of beer and stay focused. You can't have sex with a bursting bladder - no woman is capable of that. . . You have to drink just the right amount so you can turn on the waterworks at your 'master's' command.

  It's easier with shit. I did it once, and it was my first and last time. When the client asked me over the phone, I said I did it. More out of curiosity than desire. After all, how can we say we don't like something if we haven't tried it? So I did. I admit the situation made me a little nervous. The guy wanted to wank himself off while I did a 'number two' on him. He arrived, and there was a little foreplay, with him fingering my arsehole and play- ing with my bum. He didn't even want to fuck. We played around like this until I said I needed to go. Then he lay on his back, wanking frenetically, his eyes glued to my rear end, while I squatted over him, facing away. And I did it . . . Isn't that what he'd asked for?

  ~

  I was about to jump on my client when we lay down, but he wanted to chat a bit beforehand because he liked the game of seduction, even with pros. Fine. We talked until he asked me if I kissed. I told him I didn't kiss all clients, just the ones I wanted to. Then I kissed him. He placed me face down on the bed and started licking and nibbling my back and bum. Then he turned me over and went down on me. Right after I'd come in his mouth, he kissed me and I could taste my juices . . . then he went down again, sucking my nipples, and kept going . . . tummy, pussy, legs and feet. On the way back up he went down on me until I came again. And gave me another kiss.

  We put a condom on his dick, which was hard and throbbing, although I hadn't even touched him . . . He got me in the missionary position, but he started to go limp with the condom on. He told me he was used to having sex with his wife without a condom and when he had to put one on, he lost his hard-on. Normal. I wasn't fazed.

  He asked me to do a sixty-nine with him so he'd get hard again. We did it for a while, but he couldn't get his hard-on back with his dick in a 'straightjacket'.

  He wanted some time out to 'rest', so he went down on me again and I came for the third time. He came back to life and we put another condom on him, but he lost it again in no time . . . There was nothing we could do and our session ended for two reasons: one, because his time was up and two, because we couldn't have sex . . . Summing up: we didn't have sex, I came three times and made money doing it . . . aye aye . . . Even so, he said he'd be back.

  ~

  One day I had a guy from London. He was really insecure and affectionate. There was a nice chemistry between us - and if I'd understood better what he was saying, we would have got along well, I'm sure. But the fun part was getting to see the Hotel Unique, where he was staying. Very chic! His room was really nice and had a plasma TV. We tried to talk a little in English, but then he started speaking Portunhol - a mix of Spanish and Portuguese. I had to keep asking him to repeat himself, because he spoke fast and I couldn't understand a thing. I thought he'd be aloof, like other foreigners. But he wasn't. On the contrary . . . He was even con- cerned that I had an orgasm. He went down on me for ages. I realised he wasn't going to stop until I got there. Pelvic-floor muscles, here we go! I asked him to lie on his stomach and started licking his back. The Englishman came to life and, surprise surprise, flopped over on to his back, offering me his arse, which I didn't refuse. I rimmed him until he was on fire. I took turns between his arse and his dick until he came.

  ~

  Today I learnt two new positions: in the first one, the client made me lie on my back, with my legs up in the air as if I was about to roll backwards. Like a baby whose mother is going to dust his bottom with talcum powder. And while I did this he gave it to me in a squatting position. This was the one I liked best. I'd actually heard of the other, but I'd never tried it. It's called the scissor position. Both partners hold their legs apart, like two pairs of scissors joined at the groin. It's interesting, because you can use your partner's legs for support, pulling back on them. I recommend it.

  ~

  Yes, I have had sex with famous people. It's funny how people think the famous don't have the urge . . . Relax - I'm not one to name names, nor will I ever be. Professional ethics. I'm a prostitute, not a blackmailer. When one guy arrived, I thought: Iknow this guy from somewhere. But the feeling went away. After all, we were there for something else. I didn't worry about trying to find out where I knew him from. But I realised he was a bit peeved that I hadn't said anything. Right in the middle of it, he trotted out, 'Your doorman asked me for an autograph.' Poor thing, he must have felt frustrated. I didn't say anything and kept sucking him off. I've never been impressed by fame, and wasn't about to start now. If he was expecting a shower of attention, a request for an autograph, or whatever, he didn't get it. And I don't believe in freebies for VIPS. After all, I was the star of that situation . . .

  Another famous person was a TV presenter. It was easy-going, couple sex that later got smutty. I knew (and he knew I knew) who he was, of course. Introductions weren't necessary.

  ~

  A real girlie party. Just me and three other women, without any men around. They've all got plump pussies the way I like them. While we all gently take each other's clothes off, an array of exciting lingerie appears, along with implants and natural breasts -all different, but just as sexy. Small nipples, pointy nipples, but no 'pancakes' - just succulent breasts, which you can feel, stroke, suck.

  We form a daisy chain, each one nuzzling her mouth into the next one's pussy, until the circle isclosed and no one is left out, giving and receiving affection and pleasure at the same time. We take turns. Each one has a different smell and flavour. At one stage, I become the centre of attention. There are three women serving me: one licks my breasts, another goes down on me and the third one positions herself over my face and offers me the best of herself, so I can lick her, suck her and make her come.

  The sequence of orgasms is incredible. Moans become the musical backdrop for this women's party. There are no fake dicks, dildos. Just a feminine touch, delicate mouths, expert tongues, the rubbing of skin, breast
s, cunts. And we have wave after wave of orgasms until we're exhausted, but satisfied. Then we rest in each other's arms until we've caught our breath and start all over again.

  Well, this is my sexual fantasy. Unfortunately, it has never happened, except in my imagination. One day it's going to be a memory that'll make me wet just thinking about it.

  There's another fantasy I hope to fulfil one day -to have sex with a military policeman. But he has to be from here in Sao Paulo. That uniform of theirs drives me crazy. The cut makes any man look sexy. Hasn't anyone noticed? It makes their bums look high and tight, and the bulge between their legs is concentrated in such a way that you can see they'resporting a lethal weapon. Their shirts and jerseys give them a very sensual shape, and they wear black boots with large buckles. MMM.

  The sex would be wild, with him dressed (of course!) and me running my hands over his entire body, as if I'd just been given a new doll to play with, so later he'd grab me forcefully, but not violently, and do whatever he wanted with me. Him doing me up against a wall with my legs wrapped around his waist. Just the thought of a military cop dropping his trousers to fuck me, wow . . . I'd confess things I'd never done. If all this happened in public, in a cinema, for example, it would be paradise. Having sex in public, or knowing someone's watching me, I'd be halfway towards a historical orgasm. Indulging two fantasies at once would be divine. Well, now I've confessed my most secret desires, maybe they'll come true? Any takers?

  BRUNA THE SURFER

  GIRLS TIPS ON

  HOW TO SPICE UP

 

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