house calls

My Best Friend’s John (Part 2)

“Tess, don’t worry about anything. This is a transaction between us. It’s business. I am not going to tell anyone, and I know you won’t say anything. Relax. It’s good.” He stroked my face and it put me at ease.

“Now take off the fucking skirt, you pretty little whore. Your sweet ass is mine for two hours.”

I slowly unzipped my skirt, letting if fall on the floor.  Underneath, I was wearing my favorite pair of Victoria’s Secret pink and black lace panties, with a bra to match. He sat on the couch and watched me. I couldn’t read his face. What was he thinking? He just glared at me, staring deep within my eyes. It almost unnerved me.

Without hesitation, he reached up and ripped my panties off.

“On your knees, slut.” he quipped.

I was flustered. I dropped to my knees facing him, thinking he wanted me to suck his cock. But that’s not what he wanted.

“Open your legs more” he ordered, “stick that ass up for me.”

I did as he asked, wondering which hole he would assault first. He came up behind me and felt my wetness. I was aroused with anticipation and fear.

“I think I want you on the couch. Bend over ass up.”

He walked over to me and pulled my ass into his face, licking my holes voraciously, as if he were starving. I shuddered with pleasure as he persisted.

“Cum you little whore. Cum for me.”

I bucked and buckled, trying to stay balanced as my legs began shaking. It felt so good that I couldn’t hold back. He wouldn’t let up. At all.

I spilled over the edge and let out expletives that would make a sailor blush.

I didn’t have a moment to regroup before I felt him inside of me. Furiously fucking me. He almost seemed angry. I loved every thrust. I loved that he held me by the hair. I loved the primal depravity of it all. He growled, “Take it slut. Take that cock.” I took the assault until I heard him bellow and roar as he climaxed.

Pulling the condom off, he looked at me and said, “I hope you know you are going to get fucked severely tonight. This was just the beginning.” I liked the sound of that. We got ourselves cleaned up and retreated to his bedroom. His bed was large and imposing with nice black sheets. His room was in meticulous order and I began to understand more of his personality.

“Get on the bed. Spread your legs.”

I got on the bed and did as he’d instructed. Most of my calls were not this involved. I wondered if he would have been this way had we not known each other? I felt his fingers probing for my hole as he pushed several inside of me. It was a tight fit and I gasped. He looked at me and grinned. He placed his thumb on my clit as he began his ravenous torture. I was so aroused and on the edge, that I felt I would explode at any moment. He knew it. He liked having that control over me.

I felt my walls caving in, encasing his digits as he abruptly stopped. “You don’t get to cum just yet.” His cock was hard and he wanted me to pleasure him. I shimmied down between his legs and took his shaft into my mouth. I took him deeply and slowly, edging in further with each stroke. Sliding my tongue all around his tightly stretched skin. He moaned with pleasure and rubbed the back of my head as I went about my work.

He pulled me up to his chest and whispered in my ear, “Ride me.”

I straddled him as he pushed his rock-hard dick inside me. He held my hips as my body began to grind on his. He pulled me down to kiss him, which is something most escorts are told not to do. I hesitated. But he held me there and passionately kissed my mouth. It felt nice with him. He rolled over on top of me and took control. Fucking me slow and deep. It was an intentional rhythm, designed to drive me mad.

“You like how I fuck you don’t you?”

I couldn’t lie. I did. I loved how he fucked me.  He was an incredible lover. His endurance was impressive. The more he gave, the more I wanted. I looked at the time and it had already been an hour and thirty minutes. His time was almost up.

“John, our time is almost over. We have about 30 minutes left.”

He looked at me and clutched my throat. “Guess I will have to work hard to get my money’s worth.”

I don’t remember many of the physical details after that moment. It was as if I had an out of body experience. The one thing I remembered was the way he whispered in my ear. The things he said to me.

He told me how he’d met a young woman in Guatemala during a business trip. She was working as a food vendor near the hotel where he was staying. He told me how he fucked her for days. How she would pass out afterward and he would do her as she slept. How she moaned and begged him for more.

He whispered all of the things he wanted to do me.  In obscene detail. All of the ways he wanted to take me. How he wanted me to scream and moan like the woman in Guatemala. How he wanted me to be so spent that I couldn’t go on my next call. How he wanted me to think of him every time I took a step. How he wanted to hear me beg. His words were intoxicating and I almost lost track of the time.

Lucky for me, my pager went off. It’s was Gina letting me know that my next client wanted to book me for the rest of the night. (All night? Fuck! I didn’t have it in me) But, I got dressed and pulled myself together. I’d never been so shaken from a call before. He was one of the most intense encounters I’d ever had. John walked me to the door wearing a smirk on his face.

He leaned down to kiss my cheek and said, “That was amazing. Count me in as a new regular. Until next time, you dirty little slut.”

on the couch (2)

(Photo credit: Pinterest)

 

 

 

 

My Best Friend’s John

My summer was quite busy that year. Between the marathon weekends at Dick’s and my busy work schedule, I was constantly on the move. Trying to balance it all was challenging, but I loved the rush of everything.

And I will let you in on a little secret…I loved being fucked every night. 

The escort business was booming. I had a huge clientele and my nights were booked, sometimes weeks in advance. I was in such demand that I rarely had to meet with new clients. But, on occasion, I asked Gina to book with me new people. I loved that feeling. The nervous twinge of meeting a new lover for the first time made me wet with anticipation.

In spite of my booked schedule, I managed to make time for friends and family. I would carve out time with my best girlfriends. Most of them had no idea what I was doing. They would have been appalled at the thought of having sex for money. Funny thing, most of them were married, stay at home wives…having sex with their husbands for money. Same thing, different label. One my best friends, Paula, knew all about what I did. She was open-minded and loved hearing my naughty stories.

She was a gorgeous, raven-haired woman. Tall and curvy, she was beautiful. We met at work (my legit day job). She was new to the area and had recently relocated with her long-term boyfriend, leaving her hometown in North Carolina, to be with him. I just loved Paula. We were fast friends. She was my safe space. I could tell her anything, and I told her everything. Not long after, she and John purchased a house, and then they broke up. They had this volatile, on-again/off-again relationship. Much like Sid and Nancy, but without the heroin. After this last breakup, Paula met a great guy and decided to get married. And just like that…they did.

I was at home on a Sunday afternoon, spending the allotted time with my parents, when I heard the faint buzz of my pager from the bedroom. I knew it was Gina. But my first call was not until 10:00 pm. It was only 4:30. I wondered if they’d canceled. I called her as soon as I could.

“Hey Gina, what’s up?” I asked.

“Not much, doll. You up for taking on a new client?” she asked.

“When?” I asked.

“He’s asked for someone to be over around 7:00. It’s a house call. I know the area. It’s a nice neighborhood. You may get yourself a new regular…”

She knew how to sell me. Seriously, I learned most of my sales techniques from Gina. She was the master.

“Sure! I will go.”

She was pleased. She said, “I think you’ll like this guy. He sounds like your type.”

I laughed and said, “Really? So what is my type?”

“You like them dirty. I get the feeling you’re in for a fun night. Call me and check in when you get there.”

At 7:00, I pulled into up to the house. It was a nice 2-story Cape Cod with a large privacy fence in the back. I noticed the gray Mercedes in the driveway with North Carolina plates. I instantly thought of Paula…she was from North Carolina. Interesting.

I walked up to the door and rang the bell.

I was not prepared. Simply, not prepared. 

Standing in front of me was John, Paula’s ex. There was a look of recognition in his eyes and then I watched his lips curl into a most sinister grin. I didn’t know whether to be excited or scared.

“Why, hello there. Don’t I know you?” he smirked. SHIT! This had never happened before…being on a call with someone I knew!  I was at a loss for what to do…what to say…so I smiled back as I stepped into his house, brushing by him. I looked back with a naughty grin and said, “You do, John. But I think you are about to get to know me on a much deeper level.”

And just like that, I set the tone.

Once inside, I called Gina to check in. There was no way for me to tell her the situation, as he was standing right there. I just did my typical check-in and before I hung up, he asked to speak with her.

He stared at me as I gave him the phone.

“Hello, Gina. Yes…everything is fine. It’s very good. I would actually like to book an extra hour, if that’s possible.”

Gina asked to speak with me and I consented, so it was set. I was going to spend two hours there. With my best friend’s ex-boyfriend. Who was paying me as an escort. You truly cannot make this shit up. 

We retired to the couch for small talk. I was more nervous that usual. This guy actually knew me…my real name…where I worked. I wondered if he would tell anyone. My mind was racing. He could clearly see that I was uneasy.

“Tess, don’t worry about anything. This is a transaction between us. It’s business. I am not going to tell anyone, and I know you won’t say anything. Relax. It’s good.” He stroked my face and it put me at ease.

“Now take off the fucking skirt, you pretty little whore. Your sweet ass is mine for two hours.”

(To be continued)

house call1

(Photo credit, Pinterest)