professional model (part two).

"All this okay with you?"

"Uh, yeah!"  I answer, enthusiastically.  I feel flattered and excited, while I watch Tom remove his clothing, as well.  I nod silently to myself, trying to accept the fact that not only will I be modelling nude now, but with someone else, too.  It doesn't surprise me that Tom is a popular model, as I see him take off his clothing, revealing a toned, tanned body.  And, if he can help me become a real model, then let's take some pictures.

"Step into the light, both of you," Brian offers, repositioning himself behind the camera.  "And just relax.  Have fun.  Just like before," he says to me, already clicking away.  I feel a little awkward again, with Tom joining the frame, but he's a professional, and I trust him to make this work.  "Closer together," Brain suggests, and I'm thankful for the direction.  Tom turns towards me, and touches my shoulders with his large, masculine hands.  "That's it.  Like you're a couple."

At that, Tom's hands wander to my neck and hair, and all at once this feels intensely erotic.  The fact that we are both totally naked and touching each other comes to the forefront of my mind, and I feel my face blush in response.  I feel my nipples harden, a flutter between my legs, and I wonder if Brian can tell through the lens.  Can he see the mix of excitement, trepidation, and embarrassment?  Will whoever sees the pictures notice them, as well?  The camera clicks away, as Tom brings his face close to mine, like Brian did before.  But, this time, our lips actually meet, and I'm so confident of this being a great moment on film, that I make it the sexist kiss I've ever given.  Brian eagerly snaps pictures the whole time.  "Perfect," he says from somewhere behind the lens.

Then, something happens that surprises me; but what I am surprised by most, is the fact that I'm okay with it, and even encouraged by it.  Here in the bright flooded spotlight, with
the camera on us and white sheet pinned behind us, Tom's mouth moves down my neck, to my breasts.  My jaw may be dropped open, and I certainly look to Brian for reassurance, but the continued clicks of the camera communicate to continue.  I see my chest blush as well, feeling the heat of the stage lights, and I don't exactly have to feign arousal, as I notice my breath clearly quickening.  Then, I'm shocked and amazed to feel Tom's boner, discreetly pressing against my hip.  I once again look to the camera.  Can he see it?  Is it our little secret?  Are we hiding in plain sight?  Or will it be forever on film for all to see?  I try to act natural.  "Great," is all Brian reveals to his models.

Tom's warm, wet mouth works its way across my body, and my manicured pussy is becoming equally wet.  He turns me towards the camera now, bare breasts glistening in the hot lights, kissing my shoulders and upper back, and pressing himself into my butt.  My head leans back into him, wanting more of his mouth on my skin, but I can't help but feel self conscious turned towards the camera like I am.  My nipples are so obviously hard, my neck exposed, and my skin blushing a rosy pink.  I close my eyes in shameful pleasure, and see red through my lids.  The length of his erection finds the space between my cheeks, as my hand runs through his hair.  I play it up; pretending that the arousal is manufactured.  Brian takes exposure after exposure, appearing to be lapping up every bit of it.  

Then, I feel it.  Tom readjusts his cock, pulling his hips slightly away, so that it points at my ass, and I feel the wet tip of it drawing slimy moisture all over my skin.  I open my eyes wide and realize that he is trying to find me.  Trying to find my pussy.  I feel my mouth drop open again in shock, and I quickly and discreetly turn back towards him, so that we are facing each other once again.  Instead of being discouraged by my move, Tom plants a committed, passionate, open mouthed kiss on me, and I forget for a moment that I'm trying to get control of the situation.  I melt into him, getting lost in his powerful embrace, and my breasts flatten into his firm chest.  His cock folds between us, and our pelvises press satisfyingly against each other, until his redirects it again, and almost penetrates me.

Suddenly, my hips retract, and I remember the lights, the camera, Brian behind it, but I also recall his words.  That Tom will help me get noticed.  That his could be a career making shoot.  Tom is back on my neck, as my gaze wanders off frame. I feel his cock probe my wetness, and I keep my hips turned away, my decision unmade, making it difficult.  Difficult, but not impossible.  He cranes his hips far enough under me that it doesn't matter; my moisture so accumulated that he slides in effortlessly, and he's none the wiser of my predicament.  We groan in tandem, and this time when my jaw drops, he mistakes it for an opportunity to kiss me deeper, driving the whole length of his tongue down my throat.  Maybe Brian can't tell, I silently hope.  I try to disguise it, as if we're still dry humping.  Maybe he can't see.  He technically hasn't openly seen Tom's erection yet.

Then, it becomes truly unavoidable.  Tom starts thrusting.  I look away at first, trying to hide my face from the lens.  Then, Brian utters, "Yes."

At that, I feel my pussy tighten in intense arousal.  The fact that Brian likes it, that it's what he wants, gives me the impetus to use this moment.  Use this to my advantage.  Show him that I'm a real model, that I'm professional, that I'll do anything to get the part.  Show him that I can give him the best performance he's ever seen.  Give him the best photos he's ever taken.  

I put my hands on Tom's shoulders, and wrap one of my legs around his hips.  When he's ready, I hop slightly, so that he's carrying me.  He grabs my ass in his big hands, and bounces me and up and down on his cock, weight forward, in his hips.  I feel the slick length of him work in and out of me, and I picture the moisture on his member reflecting under the lights.  He puts me down so that he can lift one of my legs up over his shoulder while he fucks me; good thing I'm flexible.  At this angle, Brian can see his cock being swallowed up by my pink shaven pussy. Good thing I got a bikini wax.  Then, he flips me over so that he can fuck me doggy style, with my breasts slightly swaying with each thrust.  I moan and groan sexily, making faces at the camera.  I feel my pussy get wetter and wetter, engorged by the excitement of exhibition.  Then, I feel Tom slow slightly, grabbing my hips, controlling the thrust.  I hear him grunt behind me, he suddenly pulls out, then I feel the hot sperm on my ass.  I pant visibly afterwards, and my face grows hot.  

"Any chance you want to be an actress in movies, too?"  Brian inquires.  

professional model (part one).

I scan the online classifieds looking for discount photographers.   I scowl, realizing that even students will still cost me over a hundred dollars, plus prints.

Despite not being exactly busting with funds for such a venture, I decide that I need to finally get my headshots done, and make a real go of being a model.  If I keep waiting until I'm in a better financial position, then I'll never do it.  Because, let's face it; I'm always going to be living pay check to pay check at the minimum wage jobs I'm currently eligible for.  I figure that when I make it big as a model, I'll pay back it all back.  Regardless, I circle the cheapest one I can find.  I call to make an appointment, and the man on the other end of the line tells me to bring formal wear, something casual, as well as a bathing suit.  

I descend steep stairs to the dark basement studio, if you even want to call it that; it being nothing more than a dingy bachelor apartment with white sheets hung in a corner.  Dirty dishes in the sink, empty beer cans on the counter, and soiled clothes on the floor.  I remind myself that you get what you pay for, and pleasantly introduce myself to the photographer.  Brian is lanky, with shaggy hair, and a worn flannel shirt, and he gives me a lazy handshake.  But, this could be my first connection to the business world of modelling; you never know.  Never burn a bridge.  

He has me sit on a stool near the kitchen for now, and I peruse his portfolio while he adjusts the camera and lighting.  Despite the shotty set-up, his photos are good.  Really good.  One after the other of high class looking, fashionable, couture, professional models.  I begin to second guess the second rate wardrobe I brought; that maybe I should have waited until I had more money.  I keep flipping, to some artful nudes.  Classy, tasteful, beautiful work.  I wonder what he has planned for me.

"Let's see what you brought," he offers, and I lug my bag onto the table.  I take out the dress, t-shirt and jeans, and one piece swimsuit I brought.  His brow furrows.  "Anything else?"

"Ah...no.  Sorry.  This was all I thought..."

"Hmm.  First time modelling?"

"Uh.  Yes."

"Let me see if I have anything."  He suggests, rubbing his chin, and turning on his heels.  I watch him disappear into the vortex of clothing I believe is a closet.  In a minute, he emerges.  "Try this."

"Right.  Will do." I look around for a change area, but remember that models are naked around the crew all the time.  Every time a model leaves the runway, a handful of costume people strip her naked and hurriedly dress her in another of the designer's new, hot looks.  A real model wouldn't be shy of her body, so I decide not to be either.  I brazenly remove my shirt and pants, taking one last anxious look at Brian adjusting the camera flash before taking off my bra and underwear as well.  He doesn't even seem to notice.  I feel the dampness of the basement on my skin, evaporating off of me, and giving me a chill, my nipples standing erect.  It's only now that I look at what he's given me.  An oddly tiny bikini with several thin pieces of twining fabric joining the two parts together.  I'd have to see it on to tell what exactly it will look like, but I vow to trust the fact that he knows what he's doing.  He's a professional, after all.  I've seen his photos.  

I struggle to figure out how exactly it goes on, and I desperately hope that Brian isn't watching this awkward girl fight with a bathing suit on her first model shoot.  When I think I have it on correctly, I take a breath and step into the light.  He looks at me through the lens, and clucks his tongue once or twice.  "May I?"  He asks, gesturing vaguely to my body, and I professionally nod, not exactly sure what he's asking.  He then takes one of the straps, and moves it over my head, to the other side.  That feels a bit better.  He readjust the top, so that my breasts practically spill out over it.  He methodically attempts to squish them together, shaking the material aggressively until they fall where he wants them to.  I hope my face doesn't register the shock of him touching my breasts in this way, like I'm a piece of meat.  He doesn't even look me in the face as he does it, perhaps picturing me like the product in an advertisement.  It's all business though, as he then squats behind me, and does the same thing to my ass.  To my continued surprise, he pulls the bottom of the bikini right down, so that my bare ass is in direct line with his face, then places the material back up where he wants, moving the seat of the bikini slightly in between my butt cheeks, so that they peek attractively out the sides.  He stands then, in front of me, and takes my long hair into his hands behind me, so that his face is very close to mine, almost like he is going to kiss me.  I smell cigarettes on him and notice the aroma of his aftershave, as he finger combs my hair, placing pieces deliberately across my forehead and in front of my face.  

Hoping that I now look like one of the models in his portfolio, I feel ready for the shoot.  But, that confidence quickly fades as Brian starts taking shots.  I assumed that he would pose me or direct me in some way, but he leaves me to figure it out on my own.  Or, maybe he wants to stay still for now.  I feel myself start to sweat, and pray that he doesn't notice.  I try not to look at the camera.  Or maybe I should.    

"Hmm.  This isn't working," he mumbles, looking around.  "Looks like we should just do some nudes.  You cool with that?"

"Uh.  Yeah.  Of course.  No problem..." I trail off, trying to sound like I've done this a hundred times.  Nudes.  Right.  Just like the girls in his portfolio.  I'm a professional, now, so I better be alright with things like this.  If some photographic genius has an idea; if I inspire him in some way, and he wants to suddenly switch gears, then as a professional, working model, I have to just go with the flow.  I fight with the tight straps of the bathing suit once more, as I attempt to remove it.  He doesn't look at me exactly, but through me, as he passes me a bottle of moisturizer.  I apprehensively squirt a dollop onto my hand, even getting embarrassed by the farting noise the plastic bottle makes.  I pretend to know what I'm doing, even now, completely naked, I reason that he doesn't want my skin to look dry.  I begin to rub myself with the cream, bending to moisturizer my legs.  He looks through the lens.

"Much better," he remarks, taking some shots, and I feel myself relax.  "These pictures are supposed to show off your assets, so nudes are definitely what I would choose for you."  I smile a little, and he captures it, rapidly firing about a dozen shots.  "That's great," he says, finally offering his opinion.  "Just try to relax."

I feel myself open up, and am actually able to do some poses that he seems to like.  I work a lot better with encouragement.  The lights warm my skin, and I get lost in the moment of success.  Maybe I can do this after all.  I'm a natural.  Perhaps Brian will tell someone about me; this new and budding talent, and agents will fight to scoop me up before someone else does.  

"I'm going to bring in someone else, now," he says from behind the camera, and my jaw drops slightly, a little disappointed that it's over so fast.  Brian excuses himself to the next room, and begins talking in hushed tones to someone.  I look around at a loss, wondering if this is my cue to get dressed and see myself out.  A photographic genius maybe, but his bedside manner is awful.  

But, Brian re emerges, with an equally rough looking individual, but in an attractive way; a guy with a couple day's stubble on his face, a square jawline, and an elastic band tying his hair back.  I instinctively move to grab something to cover myself, but there isn't anything around, so I just use my hands.  "Oh, no need to cover up," Brian assures, and I instantly feel shameful of my newbie move.  "Tom here's a professional model as well."  As well as me?  Did he just call me a professional model?

"Nice to meet you," he says in a warm, manly voice, and reaches for my hand.  I feel weird shaking his hand while standing here naked, but I pretend that it's normal.  Tom then begins to disrobe, but Brian distracts me, continuing.

"When I see real potential in a model, I often ask Tom to step in, and do some duo shots with them.  He's a renowned professional, and can often boost other model's popularity by working alongside them.  All this okay with you?"

mistress leila.

She fastens me into the device, hog tying my feet to my hands, behind me.  I feel the cool metal of the table on my exposed belly, squished breasts, and warm face, which all rest against it.  

The machine around my pelvis doesn't naturally make contact with me; that is, with my pussy or ass, but if I tilt my pelvis forward, which is difficult considering the pose she has me in, then I feel both graze my sensitive flesh.  These two latex prongs, attached to the harness, both vibrate, as I can hear their buzz, and feel them slightly, when I rock my hips forward enough.  The temptation to do this is irresistible, even though I'm not usually a fan of anything touching my ass.  Mistress Leila, of course, has set it up this way, on purpose.  She intends to break me.
"Comfortable?"  She walks around me to deliver this saucy line, right to my face, winking, her heels clicking on the concrete floor.  "Now, darling," She says to me affectionately, taking my face in her delicate hand.  "Don't be cross with me.  I just want to open you up to a while new world of pleasure."
"Yes, Mistress."
"Shall I get the oil?"
"Yes, Mistress."  She takes the glass bottle, inverting it over my exposed ass, and I feel the cool liquid run between my ass cheeks, down to my pussy.  The coolness of it gives me goosebumps, sending a shiver through the core of me, and I feel my nipples harden against the table.  I long for Leila to touch me; rub it in a little, probe my crevices with those warm, womanly fingers, but she denies me that humanly pleasure.  Instead I feel it pool beneath me, and I instinctively thrust into the table, allowing the vibrating tendrils to momentarily and simultaneously make contact with my clit and ass.  I instantly shy away from their vibrations, unused to the one that so coyly tempts my asshole.
"Mmm," I hear her moan, watching the oil glisten off my flexing butt.  She, no doubt, must long to touch me, as well.  "That's right, my dear.  Don't be afraid of the harness.  It can give you so much pleasure."
"Yes, Mistress."
"Will you try it again for me?"
"Yes, Mistress," I answer obediently, but unsure of my ability to proceed.  Yes, I trust Leila with my body; she knows me better than anyone, yet the thought of anything entering me anally, is enough to make me clench.  But, I crave the clit vibrator so badly right now, and want her please her equally as much, that I ultimately concede to put myself in her hands.  Or rather, her harness.  I once again tilt my pelvis towards the table, hands and feet bound behind me.
"That's lovely, my pet," she coos, eyeing my bare ass cheeks tightening again.  I do it quickly, almost believing, through the sheer power of my will, that the anal probe won't be there the second time.  But, I feel it tickle my asshole again, and I retract almost as quickly.  "Try to linger there, my love. It's nothing to be afraid of.  I'm here with you, after all.  Aren't I?"
"Yes, Mistress." I have such strong feelings for her, such an immense build up of trust developed over the course of our sessions, that I'm willing to do almost anything for her.  Even if I have an aversion to it, I know that she is ultimately doing it for my own good.  I try again, feeling the now familiar sensation of the pulsating protrusion near my anal opening.  I let it stimulate me there, choosing instead to concentrate on the vibrator nearing my clit.  If I can just focus on the pleasant pulses emitting from my pussy, then I can almost bear the rest.  I surprise myself, by employing this, rotating my hips against the table again, and I almost forget about the anal probe.  My pussy's wetness mixes with the massage oil on the slippery surface of the table.  I test this theory again, thinking only about the sensual stimulation on my clit, and the anal vibe seems to fade into the background.  Not only does it eventually recede as I get used to the sensation, but after a half dozen thrusts or so, it almost seems to enhance the experience.  I hear moans release into the air, thinking at first that they belong to Leila, who is enjoying the delicious presentation before her.  But, after catching a glimpse of my mistress, I realize that they aren't coming from her lovely mouth at all, but from my own.
I let the anal vibrator enter me as I force my hips against the clitoral one, hands and feet bound and hindering, rather than facilitating.  Leila softly hums and crosses her arms, enjoying my sensual struggle.  I feel a bead of sweat drip down my temple, as I taste salt from my lip as well.  She's making me work for it, this time.  Equally bound by my respect for her as the corporeal restraints, I continue to thrust, secure in knowing that it's what she wants me do.  "That's it, my dear.  I'm not letting you go unless you come."
"Yes, Mistress."  I answer, allowing myself to finally feel the flutter of the urge to come.  With the probe in my ass, my instinct is to shy away from the feeling, but I remember Mistress Leila's desire for me to experience this new and intense pleasure, and I try to open myself up to it.  I relax my ass, allowing my hips to melt into the table, and therefore, the buzzing vibrator against my clit.  I feel myself buck, and cry out both muffled and echoed by the metal table.  I both tense and relax at the same time, welcoming everything to contract at once, from my ass, to my pussy, to my clitoris.

"See, my dear?  That's a good girl."  And, I do feel good, even if the process felt a bit foreign.  Very good, indeed.

my darling cuck hubby.

***This story has been removed due to publication with Stupid Fish Productions.  If you're interested in viewing this story, you can find it in the anthology, "Tonight, She's Yours." at http://www.amazon.com/Tonight-Shes-Yours-Cuckold-Fantasies-ebook/dp/B01ABHG2KI/ref=asap_bc?ie=UTF8*** 

SPICY TEASER:

"The underwear too, Cuck," the Bull states in an rumbling bass, calling my husband by a short form of the nickname, Cuck Hubby.  I watch him hesitantly slide the boxers over his hips, and kick them to the floor.  His white cock is already engorged and twitching, when Black Master cages him.  It's exactly how it sounds.  He takes a small cage, built specifically for cuckolding fetish enthusiasts, and fastens it over my hubby's small cock.  Not that I would call it that on any other day, but clearly I am getting into the role play as well.  This game is about satisfying a different kind of urge for my husband; one not entirely physical.  He won't need his cock while the Black Bull's here.

prostitute for a present.

Christmas is a busy time of year.

For the past few years, our company has really promoted the girls that do threesomes with couples, especially around Valentine's and Christmas.  This year, we actually introduced gift cards for it.  Being one of the lucky ladies that will play with couples, my holidays are booked solid.

Today is my first appointment, and I have to say I'm excited.  Yes, I've been a professional prostitute for years now, but I rarely  do threesomes, other than the aforementioned times of the year. And, I genuinely enjoy them.  Again, yes, I'm a sex worker, but I enjoy what I do.  I wouldn't be doing it, if I didn't.  Some girls think threesomes are double the work for the same pay.  The odds for disputes are twice as high, and you may have to deal with some dramatics.  But, I find doing couples really touching; you not only get to see the real love between two people, but actually get the chance to partake in it for an hour.  And in this industry, something like that can be a welcome change.  Plus, it's nice to play with girls.  And doing a couple is the only way I get to, on the job.

I talk to my supervisor at the beginning of my shift, and she tells me that their names are Emily and Steve, and that they seemed nice on the phone.  I go to my room to make sure everything is in order; clean sheets, no dirty laundry or garbage around, toilets flushed, everything wiped down.  Air freshener full.  Check, check, check.  Mirror check.  Today I've worn my prettier lingerie, rather than the sexier, more revealing stuff.  I'm seeing women the next couple weeks, so I take that into mind.  Lilac coloured lace bra and thong, with an organza flowing bodice, white thigh high stockings that connect to a matching garter belt.  Less makeup, hair in a simple, flat ironed style.  I even had my nails done in sporty tips, rare than the elaborate long kind, but that's more for function rather than aesthetics.  I'll most likely be using my fingers on the ladies.  I go back downstairs to wait in the staff room until my name is called.  

"Aurora?"  I jump to my feet, and walk through the curtain.  "Emily and Steve are here for you."  Both are cute; her with short wavy brown hair that falls attractively over her forehead, a short, slight figure, and light eyes.  Steve has a medium build, and a sweet face.  Vividly blue eyes, and a big smile.  Both seem nervous, and I make it my vow to make them feel as comfortable with this as possible.  I give each a tender, full body contact hug, before taking them by the hand and escorting them to my room.  My heels click through the halls, and I put my weight into my hips as I walk, giving them a show off my ass already.  I turn the handle, and welcome them inside.  

"So... What make you want to hire from our company?"  I say, making the small talk necessary to allow them to relax in the space, and feel connected to me in some way.

"Well," Emily says, looking at Steve for permission.  "We've always been interested in having a third in the bedroom, but we couldn't seem to make it happen naturally.  And, I think we got tired of waiting, you know?"

"Sure," I say, giggling.  "And with Christmas coming around, it gave you the perfect opportunity.  Who wouldn't want to sleep with you two, though?  You're both so cute!"  I smile, touching them each simultaneously on the arm.  They smile, even blushing a little bit.

"Well, you're gorgeous," Steve adds.  "Even better than online.  We both think so.  We looked through pictures of all the girls, and we both wanted you."

"Well..." I say smiling.  "I hope I don't disappoint!"  They laugh, sweetly.  "So... Is there anything specific you would like to do tonight?"

"Oh, no," Emily says, both shaking their heads.  "We're completely in your hands.  We have no idea."

"Well," I say, getting close to her, as making a move on the girl first is usually the least intimidating.  "I think you'll surprise yourselves, by just doing what comes naturally."  And with that, I lean in for a kiss.  Her lips are baby soft and her mouth is adorably tiny.  She kisses with her lips rather than her tongue, so I give her a little of mine.  After a minute, she relaxes enough to put her hands on my face, then through my hair.  I take Steve's hand, to include him, leading it towards my breast.  I encourage to to get behind me, and before long, I feel him kiss my shoulders, and press his boner against my ass.  He kneads my tits from behind, while I continue to softly kiss his girl.  I reach for her shirt, and she allows me to pull it over her head.  Her fresh, weightless curls gets momentarily caught in the shirt, then cutely bounces back down on her forehead.  These two are just too much. 

Then, I get to work on her breasts.  I softly squeeze her tits and I kiss her some more; her mouth relaxes and opens up a bit more for me.  I expertly reach around her back and unclasp her bra, and she slides it off her arms, and onto the floor.  But, let's not forget about Steve.  While he plays with my sizeable tits, I grope his dick through his pants.  While she removes her bra, I feel the energy is safe enough to turn to kiss him as well.  His face has a bit of stubble, with a large mouth that envelops mine with ease.  He liberally swirls his tongue around mine, and we find ourselves playfully flicking each other's back and forth.  When I turn back to her, the skin on her bare torso is creamy and unblemished, her brown nipples are hard, and her tits are small, but lovely.  I take a hand from each of the couple, and lead them towards the bed.  I sit, patting the bed beside me, and they both undo their pants almost in sync.  Still a little shy, they keep their underwear on, and join me on the bed.

The best way, I find, is to take turns pleasing each person.  So, first, I encourage Emily to lie on her back.  Steve takes some initiative and leans in to kiss her.  Immediately, her body language changes, and I can tell that she feels more at home.  I watch them for a brief moment, her tiny mouth being hungrily enveloped by his, before descending to her tits.  I lick her small nipples with my tongue, while gripping the other breast in my hand.  Her breasts are not as dense as mine, and I can almost close my fist completely around one.  She moans, and I knead both now, my mouth moving down her flat stomach, where I plant wet kisses in a trail as I go.  I take my time kissing the creamy skin of her hips and thighs.  Steve's mouth has left hers, and is on her breasts, now.  She is free to moan sweetly into the air, which she does with abandon.  I pull her underwear over her hips, revealing a small dark bush.  Another thing I'm not used to seeing.  All the girls here are completely shaved.  I like it, though.  This is what a real woman looks like.

Steve continues to kiss her breasts, so I position myself under Emily, and spread her legs.  With a hand on her mound to lift up her hood and expose herself to me, I lean into her pussy for my first lick.  She immediately arches her back into Steve, and begins to moan with more urgency.  She tastes mild, only slightly acidic, and I relish going down on her.  I flick her clit with the tip of my tongue, lay my tongue flat and wide, close my lips around her, gently sucking.  I go through my whole repertoire, before venturing further with my fingers.  She aggressively kisses Steve on the mouth, and her breathing is laboured.  It's been almost a year, but I still got it.

I probe her opening with my fingers, when I find the oral play that she responds to best.  Her pussy is like creamy silk, and welcomes my digits.  I tickle her g-spot, curling my fingers upward to do so, and she groans into Steve's mouth.  Before long, he's wanting to fuck her, and I let him take over.  He removes his underwear and gives her his cock.  She takes it easily, and he remains upright, giving me room to continue playing with her.  He's a natural, what did I say?  I lick her nipples, grip her small breasts in my hands, kiss her on the mouth.  My hand drifts to her clit, and I begin to stimulate her while her hubby fucks her.  She desperately takes my head in her hands to kiss me, while I do it.  He fucks her a while, having a bit of fun with her, not necessarily giving her what she needs to come, but that soon changes.  When she's nice and relaxed, Steve begins to slow down, and very specifically thrust into her.  He's methodically rubbing his cock against her g-spot, and I can feel her pussy get wetter and wetter, and I massage her clit.  She withdraws her face from mine to concentrate, so my mouth goes back to one of her breasts.  For a minute, she becomes almost silent compared to before, then suddenly bursts out with an ecstatic cry, coming fiercely on his dick.  He removes it from her, and she gasps, smiling and breathing deeply.

Now it's his turn.  He settles onto his back, while Emily perks up, getting on her hands and knees over his cock.  She takes the glistening shaft in her hand, while I venture a lick at the tip.  She kisses me wetly on the mouth, giving me permission to continue.  I lick my lips, and part them to welcome the tip into my mouth.  She continues to grip the base of it, her mouth drifting towards his shaved balls.  I start to suck him, letting drool flow freely down the shaft, lubricating the entire thing.  She  works her hand up and down with my lips, squeezing him all the way.  I watch her tug at his balls with a bit of suction.  We make a good team, both of us unafraid to get a little messy.  

When we get him good and worked up, I hop on his cock.  Before feeling left out, she straddles his neck, with her ass in his face.  I'm so proud of the bold move, I give her a congratulatory kiss.  Soon, Emily and I start groping each other's breasts and making out, while I bounce on him.  His dick is hard, quite big, and feels good inside me.  I feel my moisture coat his lap.  She presses herself into his face, near suffocation.  Twice the work?  More like twice the fun.  

Now, Steve wants me on my back, and gives me a proper fucking.  I feel my tits bounce as he gives it to me good and hard, and Emily grabs them.  I soon flip over, so that I'm on my hands and knees, and pull Emily towards me.  I dive into her sweet pussy, licking it as best I can while her man fucks me from behind.  She holds my head there, pressing herself into me, while he speeds up, holding onto my hips and rebounding faster into me.  They jostle me about, having their way with me, but having usually to play dominant, I thrive in the submissive role.  Being used at both ends.  It's stuff like this that made me want to get into this business.  

Perhaps ready to finish, he grabs Emily again.  He collapses right on top of her, probably how he likes to fuck her at home.  On his elbows, face right next to hers.  Her mouth kissing his shoulder, moaning in his ear.  I can see his ass tense and flex as he tenderly fucks her, and I savour watching the moment between the two of them.  Before long, he comes into her, grunting, head curling forward into the bed beside her.

"Merry Christmas to you both," I say sassily, when they've both calmed down a bit.

"Merry Christmas to you," Emily says.  

Yes.  Merry Christmas to me. 

lunchtime spanking.

My lunch hour is usually booked solid.


My dungeon is in the business district, so I get a multitude of men looking for a lunchtime spanking.  It's the busiest time of the day; sometimes I can get away with only working lunchtimes.  At over two hundred dollars an hour, I can take three clients between eleven and two o'clock, and easily call it a day.  Which is why I got I to this business.  That, and having a passion for playing out this type of fantasy.

My first appointment is with Roger (probably not his real name).  I don my most intimidating outfit, complete with boob-spilling-out corset, black lace thong underwear, and thigh high leather boots.  I wear full make-up, including ruby red lips and liquid black eyeliner, taking extra care to apply everything precisely.  This is when I get into character; seeing myself transform in the mirror in front of me.  I really feel the mistress in me coming out.
I hear him knock, and reply, "Enter."  Not that I'm completely cold and calculated.  What I'm doing actually takes a lot of care and empathy.  First clients are encouraged to sit down with me, in an open and frank discussion of their fantasies and sexual history.  Boundaries, safety, and explicit consent are a must.  I usually end each session with a hug, and when I have a particularly brutal session with someone, I always write a follow up letter.
Roger enters wearing slacks, a crisp white shirt, and tie, which I immediately make him strip off.  The power play begins right when he walks in the room.  I am always fully clothed harshly in leather, whereas they are always vulnerably naked.  "An afternoon spanking?"  I offer, when he's removed all his clothing.
"Yes, mistress."
"And what have you done this time, Roger?"
"Umm..."  I take an intimidating step towards him.
"Roger?"
"I... think about other women."
"Other than your wife?"  His offences are never really all that punishable, but I alter my path accordingly, slowly circling around him.  The heels of my boots click on the concrete floor.
"Yes," he admits.
"Yes, what, Roger?"
"Yes, mistress."
"But, you don't want me to be your mistress today.  Do you?"  I've had Roger as a client so long, that I can make this leap.
"No, mistress."
"What do you want me to do for you, today?"  Even though we go through the same dance every time, he still has a hard time saying it.
"I..."
"Poor Roger.  Are you nervous, my little boy?"  He nods, afraid to look me in the eye.  "You know mummy loves you, right?"  I come around to his side, and whisper in his ear.  "It's just that I don't love the things you do."
"I know."
"But, you did the right thing in coming to me.  Didn't you?"
"Yes."
"You want to be a good boy very badly, don't you?"
"Yes, mum."
"I know you do.  You want to be mummy's good boy, don't you?"
"Mmm.  Yes."
"Kneel on the ground."  He does, his cock already at half mast, and obediently clasps his hands behind his back.  I take another calculated walk around him, the sound of my heels echoing in the room.  When I've reached the other side, I harshly pull on his ear, and he briefly cries out. "Are you sorry?"  I ask.
"Yes, mum!"
"Mummy has to punish you, doesn't she?"
"Yes, please!"
"That's a good boy.  You want it, don't you?  Tell me how sorry you are."
"I'm sorry, mum!  I'm so sorry.  Don't be mad at me."
"I'm not mad.  I'm disappointed."
I let go of his ear, and he rubs it.  I walk over to a chair, moving my hips so that he gets a good show of my ass.  I'll only sit when he stands, to maintain my power over him.  I put my hand on the back of the chair and give him a burning stare.  He writhes, looking anywhere but my eyes.
"You know what I have to do, don't you?"
"Yes, mum," he answers.
"It's for your own good, isn't it?"  He nods.  "No, mummy doesn't like doing this to you any more than you like getting it."  He nods again, reddening a little.  His erection is standing fully out from him, now.  I can tell that this embarrasses him, considering the mother-son role play.  I decide to exploit the fact.
"Or, do you like it?  You bad little boy."
"No mum," he says, shaking his head furiously.
"I can see your little cock sticking out."
"No, mum!"
"I can see your tiny, little boy cock sticking out."  He looks down in shame.  He's sweating.  I approach him again.  "You haven't been touching that little thing, have you?  You know only bad boys do that."
"No, mum."
"Tell me the truth.  Have you touched it and made it squirt?"  I lean forward and wag my finger in his face.  He has a good view of my bulging breasts, now.  He shakes his head again.  His cock is so hard, that the veins are all puffed out.  "Have you rubbed it?"
"No!"
"Have you stuck it into anything?"
"No, I..."
"You can tell me.  It's all very confusing, I know..."  I take his head in my hands, and hold it against my abdomen, stroking his hair.  I could do this for hours.  Luckily, I get to.
"I know you have these thoughts in your head that you can't get out.  I know that they make your little dick stick out like that.  I want you to know that you can tell your mummy.  You love your mummy, don't you?"
"Yes, mum.  Very much."
"Then, why don't you be a good boy and tell me what you did?"
"I... touched it, mum.  And I had bad thoughts.  I'm sorry.  I'll never do it again..."  But, I've already let go, and am slowly walking back towards the chair.
"Come here."
"Mum!  I promise, I won't do it again!"
"Come here, Roger.  Do what you're mother is telling you."  He doesn't say anything, but slowly looks around for a way out of this.  "Roger?"  I say sternly.  "Be a good boy and come here."
"Y...yes, mum," he says finally, standing.  He lowers his head, and walks towards me, dick leading the way.  I sit, arm extended to him.  When he reaches me, I pat his back, encouraging him to sit on my lap.
"Now, mummy loves you very much.  Ok?"  He nods, and I bounce him a little bit.  I see a smile begin at the corner of his mouth.  "That's right.  But, mummy has to teach you a lesson right now, ok?  Now, turn around."  He sheepishly does what I tell him, laying prostrate over my lap.  I feel his hard cock against my thigh, as he folds it beneath himself.  This posture is very submissive and humiliating, especially for a man.  Women bend over all the time, but for men it can be very emasculating.  I thrive on it.
"This hurts mummy just as much as it hurts you."  I wind up, and give him a hard whack on the butt.  He gasps.  I raise my hand a second time, and he noticeably braces himself.
Smack.  He cries out.  I give him another.
Whack.  Another.  His flesh is reddening.
Another.  Again.  Again.  He convulses with each hit, and his dick presses harder into my lap.  I give him a rest, rubbing the area.
"Are you ready to be a good boy?"
"Yes!"
"Have you learned your lesson?"
"Yes!"
"Yes, who?"
"Yes, mum!"
Smack.  "Good boy."

I let my regulars masturbate at the end of each session.  I'm only responsible for the time leading up to it.

first time dominatrix.

          I've always experimented with dominant role play in the bedroom, but never really got to explore it to its full potential.  My partners always seemed to enjoy the more traditional approach to straight role play, with the woman being the submissive one.  Not that I didn't enjoy being the sub, or that we didn't switch it up once and a while, but I always felt that I would eventually have to go outside my relationships to experience a fully dominant role.  Men who enjoy playing submissive are more common than you think, but you have to go to the right place.  Most men, with submissive leanings or not, are not comfortable exploring it with their partners.  Their need to be seen as protectors and hunters overpowers their urge for submissive role play.  If, they're paying someone for it, however...

         I ended up answering an online ad for part time dominatrix work.  Making the leap into the sex industry wasn't too difficult for me, as I always considered my own need for dominance to be mainly psychological.  This type of work has definitely been eroticized, but most doms continue to hold harsh "no sex or nudity" policies.  This companies wasn't one of them.

         The company provided me with some basic dominatrix training; mostly safety concerns and liability clauses, but the rest is up to us.  Besides learning the basics of the role play, its a very creative field that forces you to adapt for each client, and each situation.  We were asked to perform a couple dry runs in front the company heads, with an actor playing the submissive role.  You've either got it, or you don't.  Most woman looking to do this professionally have years of practical knowledge on the subject, anyway.

          Before I know it, I book a client.  I don my full ensemble, from corset, to thigh high spiky heeled boots, and I'm on my way to becoming a full fledged sex worker.  Or so society tells me.  I still maintain that it's more like I'm fucking their minds, their memories, their emotions.  And then, there's a happy ending.
           The girls work on the third floor of a walk-up office building, with a small lobby connected to four separate spacious rooms.  The part time girls split our time between one room.
          Several clients go by before one really peaks my interest.  There was the man who wanted to be spanked with the tortoise shell brush his mother used to hit him with.  In very motherly, concerned tones, I told him that mommy loves him, but he's been a bad boy.  I could feel his boner in my leg, as I bent him over my knee.  I let him suckle at my breast, with his head on my lap, as he got off.  Too sweet of a scenario for my tastes.
          The next, was the type of client that I expect to get most.  Men with high powered jobs with a need to be restrained, blindfolded, gagged, and flogged.  They call it "the alpha male vacation".  This is the basic scenario we learned about in training.  He could only speak if he said, "yes mistress", and I didn't allow him to get off at the end.  Did it indulge my lust for dominance?  Yes.  But, it rang a little "dominatrix 101" for me.
 
          My third client, however, reminded me why I wanted to do this in the first place.  Dominance role play, with a twist.  The client card says, "Doggy Play".  I feel a smile spread across my face.  I knew there was a reason for that crate in the corner.
          I hear a knock at the door, and before I reach for it, I get an idea.  I quickly text the receptionist, asking her to tell him to kneel, and scratch at the door instead.  Not before long, I hear a pawing at the lower part of the door.  I open it, revealing a middle aged, though attractive, man on the floor in front of me.  I've made him kneel in his suit.  I already enjoy standing over him.
          "Stay," I say with authority.  He obeys, despite the fact I'm making him do it in front of another client, at the doorstep.  "Good boy.  Now, come."  He follows me into the room, crawling behind me, and I shut the door.
          "Sit," I command.  "No need for your doggy sweater in here.  Let's get all that off of you."  He sits still, as I remove his suit jacket, tie, button down shirt.  His has a nice chest too, for an older gentleman.  He clearly has played this role before, as he doesn't exactly smile, but there is an excitement and willingness to please in his eyes, just like a dog's.  "Good boy," I say, patting his head.  "Let's get a collar on you."
           This part of the role play is every bit as important as the later stuff; and it can be even more so.  It establishes character, power roles, severity, what exactly the client is looking for with the appointment.  He wants to be a good dog, for example.  His compliant behaviour tells me that he doesn't necessarily need anything too rough for this session.  That could change though, as we go along, so I need to keep reading him intently.
           "Stay," I tell him, as I kneel down beside him with the collar.  As I buckle it, I get a chance to take a closer look.  Clean shaven, despite it being the end of the day, with a striking jawline.  He must have gone home to shave before coming.  He is a good doggy.  I pat his head, ruffling his hair, ending with a touch on his soft face.
 
          "Alright, let's do some training with you, doggy," I say when I have the collar on.  I stand beside him, leash in hand.  "Heel," I say, as I slowly walk beside him.  Luckily, I used to have a dog, and know some of the training lingo.  My spiked heels click on the floor as I walk, as he crawls soundlessly beside me.  I can feel him looking at my ass, and I really put my hips into it.  I stop, and give a short tug on the leash, upwards, indicating to sit.  He does.  "Good boy," I remark.  "You're going to get a treat later."
            I walk him around the room like this a couple times, then have him sit while I get him a drink.  I quickly fill a bowl of water at the sink in the washroom, not wanting to leave my dog unattended for long.  When I return, he has a guilty look on his face.  I have to turn away to smile at the role play, then turn back in character.  "Here you go, puppy," I say, setting it down.  "Come have a drink."
           I take a quick look around, but nothing seems amiss.  I wonder what he has done.  Hasn't been long enough for him to chew anything.  He leans forward, happily lapping the water with his tongue.  I decide to test him, gently tapping the side of the bowl with my boot.  A splash of water lands on the floor beside it.  "Clean it up, doggy," I say, indicating the puddle of water at my foot.  Without flinching, he laps the water off the floor, finishing with a lick at a droplet on my boot.  "Good boy," I say, patting him again.

           If his tail could wag, it would.  He feels better about what he did.  But, what was it?  Until I know, I cannot provide the appropriate punishment.  Maybe the boot licking was enough.  I tell him to sit and stay, and take a quick look around the room.
          His head lowers, avoiding my eye contact.  I hold a controlled stare with him, as I take a leisurely lap around the room, heels clicking menacingly, as I do.  He's sweating, I can tell I'm close.  I stop at a restraining table in the corner, and take a look underneath.  Looks like he spilled something, but there's nothing around.  Then, it clicks in.  Oh my god.  My eyes go back to him, and I can feel that my jaw has dropped.  I walk with purpose back to him, and he cowers, expecting to be hit.  Instead I grab the leash, and yank him towards the crate in the corner.  He struggles to keep up, half choking under the taught collar.  He'll live; we only walk a few steps.  I unlock the door, keeping the leash tight in my hand.  I force him inside with the heel of my boot.  I slam the cage door behind him, and make sure the lock is latched.
         "Bad dog!"  I yell once he's in, leaning down and aggressively pointing.  I kick the side of the cage, making a satisfyingly loud clanging noise.  I take a breath, containing myself, and stand back up.  "You're going to have to stay in there awhile."

           I leave the room briefly, to talk to the receptionist. "How long is my client booked?"
         "Two hours today."
         "Great.  Do have any voyeurs waiting?"
         "Let's see.  Janet does.  I could ask if she wants to switch."
         "Could you?  I'm looking to double book.  Tell the client I'm ready for her."                              
          I do an entire other appointment while my doggie sits in his cage.  Once, I see him lick at the attached water bottle, like a gerbil, and I get immense pleasure from it.  And the woman enjoyed the treat of having a spectator, so it was win-win.  And a third win, for me.

          I let the female client go from her hour appointment, as I glance at the clock.  About a half hour left.  Just enough time for the "happy ending".  But exactly how I'm going to end this, I'm still not exactly sure.
         "Are you ready to be a good dog?"  I say to him, through the bars of the crate.  His butt wags slightly, and his eyes light up.  I bend down to unlatch the door, and he barrels out excitedly.
         "Yes, you're happy to be out of there, aren't you?"  I say, reaching down to pet his head.  "But I haven't completely forgiven you yet.  You're going to have to do one more thing for you owner.  Can you do that for me, boy?"  Responding not to what I said, but the energetic tone of the last question, he lets his mouth slacken, giving me a smiling pant.  Looking at his tongue, I get an idea.  I didn't say whose happy ending, did I?
         "Come here, boy," I say, removing my panties.  If only I had a bit of peanut butter or something, to put on myself.  I decide to stay standing, as it's more of a dominating pose.  He crawls close to me. "Good boy.  Now, sit.  You want a treat, doggy?"  He wags his butt again.  "Here you go boy," I say, touching my pussy.  I'm surprised to find that I'm a little wet.  I part myself slightly, to show it to him.     "Have a lick, doggy.  Be a good boy for your owner."
         He enthusiastically complies, leaning forward, giving my pussy little dog-like licks.  He can't use his hands, so I spread myself, making sure he gets my clit.  "Mmm," I moan.  "Good boy."  His tongue is skilled and quick.  Considering his fetish, I'm sure he's given plenty of oral to women throughout his life.  Would it be foolish to think that I'm his first mistress to please in this way?  Mmmm.  Yeah.  I don't care.  I can't believe I'm getting paid for this.
         "Are you going to make your mistress come?  Like a good boy?  What a good puppy."  I touch my pussy as well, putting a finger slightly inside, feeling like I could indeed orgasm from this.  I think of him in that cage.  The puppy dog eyes, the slight whines throughout the woman's appointment, hearing the small metal ball roll around as he licked the water bottle at the side of the crate.  Oh yeah.  Good boy.  I vibrate the finger at the opening of my pussy, moving it fast, back and forth, as my good dog gives my clit short, quick licks.
         "I going to come.  Good boyyyy... "  I concentrate on my dog, on his knees in front of me, wanting to please me so badly, and I give myself over to it.  "Ohhh!"  I cry out, coming on my finger, and my sweet doggy's face.
         "Good boy," I say again.  He doesn't even make a move to wipe his face.

         He leaves, still in character, crawling out the door.  I sit down for a moment, catching my breath.  Best job ever.  Then, I suddenly remember the "accident" on the floor.  Well, very nearly the best job ever.  I get some paper towel from the washroom, and the bottle of bleach.  When I bend to clean it, I notice an empty bottle of water hiding behind the leg of the table.  I wipe the small puddle, and it is indeed water.

       
        Hmm.  Maybe I've got a little more work to do on my intuiting.
 

reposted entry: an extended version of "pornography"

**This post has been removed due to its impending publication with House of Erotica (www.houseoferoticabooks.com)**


SEXY TEASER:

     "Good.  That's very good."  
     I watch the woman, showing the camera her pussy.  I actually think mine is nicer, but you can't deny her overall attractiveness.  She turns around, and bends over.  She shows us her buttocks now, even moving one of the cheeks away, to show in between.  Ted hands drift to the front of my torso, including my sides of my breasts.  The warmth of his hands through my shirt, is welcome.  And to my surprise, my nipples are hard.  He isn't massaging them or anything,  not even letting himself linger there, but still letting his hands lightly wander all over my body.  When he gets to my breasts again, I find my back arching into his touch. "Has anyone ever touched you there?"  When I don't reply, he clarifies, "On your ass?"  

       "No! Ted. You must be kidding."  Despite my usual disgust at these topics, the combination of his soothing presence and soft touch leave me smiling.    
        "You're smiling.  Does it feel good?"  I redden, "Yes." 
        "Do you want me to touch your tits?" I shoot him a look, disapproving of the word, but admit, "Yes."  
       "As long as you keep watching the screen," he adds.  

professional escort.

**This entry has been removed due to it's impending publication with House of Erotica (www.houseoferoticabooks.com)**

SAUCY EXCERPT:

"How would you like to do it?" I ask sexily, pressing my pelvis into his his hip.  "Every way," he says with a boyish smile, which makes me laugh.  I sit down on the bed, and he crawls over me, kissing the front of my body as he goes.  He licks my nipples through my bra, then pulls the cups down to suck them properly.  I find my body is getting tricked, as I hope it would.  I find myself turned on despite the odd partner choice, and surprisingly, I feel willing, and even excited to fuck him.  I want to show him a good time, I want him to come back, and I want to put on a good performance."

pornography.

**This post has been removed due to its impending publication with House of Erotica**


SEXY TEASER:

     "Good.  That's very good."  
     I watch the woman, showing the camera her pussy.  I actually think mine is nicer, but you can't deny her overall attractiveness.  She turns around, and bends over.  She shows us her buttocks now, even moving one of the cheeks away, to show in between.  Ted hands drift to the front of my torso, including my sides of my breasts.  The warmth of his hands through my shirt, is welcome.  And to my surprise, my nipples are hard.  He isn't massaging them or anything,  not even letting himself linger there, but still letting his hands lightly wander all over my body.  When he gets to my breasts again, I find my back arching into his touch. "Has anyone ever touched you there?"  When I don't reply, he clarifies, "On your ass?"  

       "No! Ted. You must be kidding."  Despite my usual disgust at these topics, the combination of his soothing presence and soft touch leave me smiling.    
        "You're smiling.  Does it feel good?"  I redden, "Yes." 
        "Do you want me to touch your tits?" I shoot him a look, disapproving of the word, but admit, "Yes."  
       "As long as you keep watching the screen," he adds.  

virgin.

       I'm a virgin. Still. And I'm thirty four. At this point, I just want it over and done with.

      For so long, I've waited for the right person to come along.  It's almost happened so many times, I can't even tell you.  Lately though, my feelings towards it have changed.  For the past couple years, it's become like an obsession, controlling me.  It's been the source of a lot of anxiety, and frustration.  At this point, I want it to happen unceremoniously.  I just want it to be over with, so I can get on with my life.

      That's why I called Ted.  "A registered sex therapist," the ad says, Ted "helps women overcome sexual fears and anxieties".  I gave him a call, told him my situation, and he booked me in within the week.  Obviously, I'm torn.  I'm both nervous, and looking forward to finally conquering this thing.

      When I arrive, Ted opens the door, and greets me warmly.  He's much more normal looking than I expected.  Probably around my age, but attractive, he looks like could have a wife, and/or children.  He gestures for me to sit down.  
     "So," I launch in, "I'm here because I'm developing a lot of anxiety about ..."  
     "Sex."  Ted finishes.  I take a breath.  
     "Yes.  But ..."  
     "I'm going to stop you right there.  From what you said to me on the phone, it seems to me that you've been overfocussing a bit.  Specifically, on the negative.  Please tell me if I'm wrong, but I believe you've been doing a great deal of talking about this the last couple years."  I nod.  
     "You're not wrong."  He smiles, affectionately.  
     "I'm glad you called me.  I think it's time you started doing something about it.  So, let's get started.  In your own time, I'd like you to remove your clothing."  He takes off his shirt, to reveal a toned upper body.  This might not be so bad after all.  I can't believe I'm finally going to do this.  I take off my pants and shirt, sheepishly leaving on my underwear. 

      "Tell me about a good sexual experience you've had recently," he asks, while sitting down beside me on the bed.  
     "Well.  I like when they play with my breasts.  And kiss my neck."  
     "That's a good start," he says, gesturing me to lie down.  He looks me over.  "You have a great body.  Are you sure no one's had their cock in you?  I would think guys would be all over you."  I smile.  
     "Yeah, I'm pretty sure."  He touches my breasts lightly, almost tickling them.  
     "Feel free to touch yourself.  I want you to be completely relaxed, and contented.  Do what you would do when masturbating at home."  My hand drifts in between my legs, where I give a small amount of pressure.  "That's good," he says, "That feels nice?"  
     "Yes."  He folds down the cup of my bra, and holds my breast, gently pinching with the nipple between his fingers.  I close my eyes.  His warm mouth opens onto my neck, sending sensations all the way down to my pussy.  His other hand pets my head, my hair, pressing me closer to his mouth.  His leg straddles one of mine, and he starts to gently press himself against me.  So far, so good.  
     "Can you feel my cock?  You've gotten me so hard.  You can touch it, if you want."  I apprehensively touch it through his pants.  I'm anxious that he's going to speed things up if I do.  "Don't worry," he says, almost reading my mind, "I wont do anything before asking you."  He kisses my neck again, sending signals down to my pussy to relax.  I cup the bulge of his cock in my hand, and find that, if I know he's not going to just jump on top of me and try to fuck me, I enjoy touching it very much.  It even gets me wetter, feeling how hard he is.  "Would you like me to take my cock out?"  I feel myself smile.  
     "Yes."  My hand touches the back of his, as he undoes his fly.  He takes my hand and leads it to his cock, until I grip it.  I love feeling it in my hand, but I fumble a bit.  
     "You don't have to stroke it or anything.  It feels good just to have you hold it."         

      Ted's mouth drifts down to my breasts, and his tongue plays with the nipples.  I arch my back into him, and he unclasps my bra from behind me.  "Would you like these off, too?" He asks, and I lift my hips.  He slides my panties off, and I part myself, between my legs, feeling how truly wet I am.  I use the moisture to massage my clit, while holding his cock in my other hand.  "Would you like me to touch your pussy?  I would love to."  
     "Yes."  
     "I want to see you keep touching your clit.  It's so sexy."  I smile, and keep playing with my clit.  It's heavenly.  I can feel him touching my thighs, kneading his hand through the small patch of hair above my pussy.  Teasing the opening of my pussy, massaging it.  "I'm not going to put anything inside, ok?  I just want to play with it for awhile."  
     "Mmm. It's great."  
     "Good. You're doing so great for me.  You have such a pretty pussy."

      I'm so wet.  He's driving me crazy.  "More," I breathe.  
      "You want my fingers already?  You're being such a good girl for me."  But, he doesn't give them to me yet.  He circles them around and around the opening of my pussy,  mercilessly teasing me.  
      "Oh god, please!"  He gives me one of his fingers, but I can barely feel it, so he gives me two.  He plays with my g-spot, while I enthusiastically massage my clit.  He adds another finger.  
      "This is almost as big as my cock.  It's not too much different than what I'm doing right now."  I look at him.  
      "Really?"  He laughs. 
      "Yes.  I'm also not going to give you the whole thing.  You're going to love it."  He smiles.  "Can I touch my cock against your pussy for a bit?  Don't stop working your clit, ok?  I won't put it in until you tell me to.  I promise."  

      Ted kneels in front of me, and I feel the tip of his cock against me, slightly clumsier than his hand.  He gets it wet, and circles my opening with it, just like he was doing with his fingers.  "That's nice," he says, "I just want to do this for awhile, ok?  Can you do that for me?"  I feel it there, and it's driving me wild.  Pressing against, and sliding around my wet, swollen pussy.  Every once and a while, poking the tip slightly inside.  "You feel so good on my cock," he reassures, "I just want to do this, ok?"  
       "Oooh," I moan, almost protesting.  It would drive me completely insane if this went on much longer.  "Give it to me.  Give it to me, Ted."  He smiles.  
     "You want my cock?  You're doing such a good job for me, aren't you?"  
     "Give it to me, Ted!"  
     "The tip's already in."  What?  It feels so good!  Holy shit.  
     "Fuck me, Ted!"  He starts to slowly thrust, and now I can feel him.  But it isn't uncomfortable at all; it feels fucking fabulous.  I want more.  
     "I'm not going to go very deep, alright?  I'm going to keep it exactly like this, ok?"  He thrusts slowly, and shallow, and I'm going fucking wild on it.  I can't believe I haven't done this before.  "Keep touching yourself, ok?  Can you do that for me?"  
     "Ohh, yes," I answer, furiously rubbing my clit, now.  
    "Good girl.  You like that, don't you?  You like my cock?"  
    "Oh, fuck yes!"  
    "You're doing so good for me.  Just like that, ok?  Can you keep it up, just for me?"  
    "Oh, fuck yes, Ted!  Fuck!"  
    "You want to get me off?  Would you like that?  Is that what you want?"  
    "Oh fuck!  Yes!  Yes!  Yes!"  
    "Oooohh," Ted expels, collapsing on top of me.  His cock twitches inside of me.  

      I start laughing.  I can't believe that I was afraid of it for so long!  As I can't stop giggling, his cock slips out, and I gasp.  "Sorry," Ted apologizes.  "Didn't mean to take it out that fast."  He looks at me, checking in.  "Feel good?"  He asks.  
     "Relieved,"  I sigh.  "Yes, good.  I feel great."  He lies with me awhile, as I contemplate a world of possibilities.                                                           

                                   

phone sex.

      Lately someone's been contacting me.  They're not supposed to; I'm not even sure how they got my email.  I use a pseudonym at work, and there are plenty of security measures in place, including what we can and can't talk about, but I have to admit, I'm new at this.  I'm supposed to report anything like this to my boss, but the messages seem harmless enough.  He seems sweet, actually.  His name is Dave.  It's not at all like the harassment, or stalking, that the other girls at the call center warn me about. 

      I'm sitting at my desk at work, on a typical day.  Most of the girls are already into phone conversations with clients.  The ads show young women, scantilly dressed and smiling, on their beds or in some other erotic setting, phone in hand.  The reality of the call center is slightly less glamourous.  A bunch of women cluttered together, in the cramped room of an office building, of varying weights, ages, and commercial attractiveness.  All with sexy voices, and an adventurous nature, however.  Most use headsets, doing everything from their nails, to homework, as they engage in phone sex with customers. 

      I browse my email on my cell phone, and find another from Dave.  The fifth or sixth, in the span of about a month.  "The last talk we had was great.  You really have improved my sex life recently, both solo, and with my girlfriend.  I think about you often, and hope you are well.  If you ever need anyone to satisfy the fantasies we talk about, please let me know.  I would love to be that person."  I give a short laugh, enough for one of the girls to ask about it.  
     "Oh, just something sweet my boyfriend said."  
    "You're not supposed to sext at work, you minx," she teases, then widens her eyes. "You're beaming!  It must have been a good one!"  I roll my eyes at her, but when her back is turned, read the email again.  As much as I know it's unprofessional, and possibly dangerous, to have any reaction but deleting the emails and notifying my manager, I've kept them all.  I read them over, and over.  I even find myself checking my email repeatedly, hoping to find another message.  At least I'm not so far gone as to reply to any of them.  I still don't know which one of my clients Dave is, since most callers use a psuedonym as well, or don't want to give a name at all.  I'm nervous for the moment that he reveals himself as the person who has been contacting me.  For then, I am contractually obligated to ban him as a caller.

      My phone rings.  "Nightlife Calling, tonight you're speaking with Lisa," I say in my sexiest voice.  "I'm so happy you called. What can I do for you tonight?"  The line is silent.  "Everything is confidential.  You have no reason to be nervous.  Do you have a first name?  I want to hear that sexy voice of yours."  Another pause.  Just when I'm about to hang up, I hear a tentative voice say something.
     "Could we skip that for now? Can we talk about what you would do to me if you were here?"  
    "I would love to.  I wish I was.  Would you like it if I was in your bedroom?"  
    "Yes.  What are you wearing?"  
    "Your favourite outfit.  A sexy lace push up bra, black lacy panties, garters, and heels.  I want you to think of how my tits look in this bra, ok?"  
     "Ok."  
     "I put this lingerie on just for you.  I wanted to look sexy for you. "  Some movement. He's starting to jerk off.  
    "Mmm," he moans.  
    "Lie back.  I want to see your cock bulging through your pants.  Do you want me to take it out?"  
     "Mmm. Yes."  
     "I unzip your fly, and pull your pants down a bit.  I can see your big cock begging to be let out.  I pull down your underwear, and it stands up straight for me.  Did I make your cock hard like that?"  
     A muffled, "Oh yeah."  
    "Do you want to feel my mouth on it?" 
    "Yes."  
    "I tease the tip with my tongue.  I love the head of your cock.  I kiss it with my lips and tongue, making out with it, putting the tip in my mouth slightly.  I lick the shaft, lick your cock all over with my wet, warm tongue.  I want you to really want it.  I put the tip in my mouth, and slowly move it in and out.  Just the tip.  Is that nice?"  
    "I want to tell you my name.  I want you to say it."  
    "Anything, baby.  What is it?"  
    "Dave."

         My heart drops.  Oh god.  I want to ask, but I can't.  It could easily be any other guy named Dave.  Carry on as normal.  "Do you want me to put the whole thing in my mouth, Dave?"  
        "Oh, yes." 
        "My mouth is salivating just thinking about it.  My lips slide down the shaft of your cock, and your cock almost touches the back of my throat.  Oh, Dave.  It's so big.  I don't think I've ever had a cock this big in my mouth."  I readjust on the chair, and realize I'm wet.  I'm thinking about him; hoping it's him.  I think of all the emails he's sent me.  How much he wants me.  I look around; I don't think anyone has noticed my predicament.  "I slowly begin to move my mouth up and down your cock.  Do you want to thrust into my mouth while I do it, Dave?  Think about putting your hands in my hair and fucking my mouth."  I press my legs together, thrusting a bit myself.  "Do you like to watch me suck your cock?  Do you?"  
       "Mmm.  Yes."  I move, so that my chair is tightly tucked under a desk.  I discreetly undo the top of my pants, and slide my hand down them.  My pussy is flooded; so completely wet.  I massage my clit, careful to move only my hand, and not my entire arm.  
       "Remove my bra.  I want you to kiss my tits while I ride you.  They're big, aren't they?  Are you thinking of my tits, Dave?"  
       "Mmm.  Oh, yeah."  
       "I'm going to fuck you, Dave.  I want to bounce on that gorgeous fucking cock of yours."  I'm so fucking wet.  I feverishly masturbate under the table.  "Do you like to watch me fuck you?  Do you like me working myself over your cock?  Can you picture my big tits as I do it?  I'm going to get myself off on you, Dave.  I'm going to come over your cock."  Oh, god.  I'm getting there.  "I'm going faster.  Fuck me, Dave.  Fuck me hard.  Flip me around and fuck me.  Fuck me, fuck me, fuck, fuck, fuck!"  Holy shit!!!  Oh fuck!!  Oh god.  Wow.  I look around.  The girl across the table gives me a thumbs up for my performance.  I wink at her, out of breath, trying to play it cool.  
      "Dave?"  I say into the phone.  
      "Wow," he responds.  "You are a goddess.  You'll be hearing from me."  
      "Thanks for the fun time, Dave.  Call soon."

     I tell one of the girls that I'm going on a smoke break.  God, I hope he never says anything that makes this come to an end.