Prostitute

“No... ahh... no, no, no... Oh dear god NO!”

The first time Florence cried out in this way I instinctively stopped driving my penis into her, fearing I was hurting in some way. Her hips thrust back at me and her guttural demand of “for god sake don't stop, fuck me!” convinced me that she was on the verge of an orgasm of which I would be proud to admit that I had helped to generate.

Florence is a single, 32 year old lady, divorced and dedicated to her career. It was her career that caused the breakdown in her marriage and, as she found to her cost, her sex life. I am witness to the fact that she has a substantial sexual appetite, and I am proud that she has revealed that out of a number of previous partners, I am the better.

So now I attend to her sexual needs. Not just a quick, undignified fuck but a night out, dinner, dancing and then a hotel room where we share a few hours of lust; her description, not mine!

All of this is not at my cost, indeed I am paid $500 plus expenses; theatre tickets, meals, hotels, etc.

Yes, I am a male prostitute.

No, I don't rent out my ass to men; I sell myself only to women. Call me an escort if it sounds better.

It was Florence that I have to thank for encouraging me to enter the profession. It was she that wanted no emotional ties but saw that in order that I was at her sexual beck and call I would need to drop my nine to five job, and being an escort would fit the bill.

Florence insists that I have regular sexual health checks to protect her, me, and all my other clients. Oh yes, I now run a very profitable business. Florence is an accountant and I am one of her clients, so we have mutuality in business.

Florence is used to being in control, dictating who does what, at what time and how often. It came as a shock when I refused to allow her these privileges. However, when her tantrums subsided and her butt glowed a satisfying red, my horny lady found that modicum of submission could be exciting and rewarding.

As with all our sexual encounters there are times of compromise when I allow her free reign to the point of only reining her back if she tries to turn the tables completely. Many times my hand on her firm butt has brought an end to her ambitions but instead a very rewarding sexual climax.

Florence is in good shape, indeed we often meet at the gym where she first spotted me and in her words, “I am going to have to fuck that guy.” However I was there to work on my physique and took only a rudimentary interest in the dark-haired, olive-skinned lady working her little tush off on the rowing machines.

Subtly she ‘arranged’ brushes with me, or coincidentally being on an apparatus beside me. We chatted and I was impressed with her stamina so took an interest.

This lady is not carrying a pound of extra weight yet she is not a size zero. Her breasts are superbly rounded with barely any east/west orientation of the dark nipples. A six-pack of abs. peeps shyly from behind a softness at her firm belly, enhanced by a pendant belly piercing. Slightly wide hips and tiny waist coupled with her full breasts give her the classic and seemingly, amongst modern women, fast disappearing hourglass figure.

Despite my seeing many women naked, in my profession, Florence never disappoints me or fails to raise my sometimes flagging libido. She is the essence of sensuality... she has ‘IT’ and by god she knows it and how to use it. Posing before me as I am wont to demand of her, her olive skin adds a different dimension to tanned flesh. I demand that she poses as stock still as any statue, and that is how I see her, a goddess to be worshipped. This she adores as long as I pay her due reverence as a goddess and fuck her like I fuck no mortal female.

-oOo-

I thought I was unshockable, yet Florence shocked me when she initially proposed that she pay me to wine and dine her then “make passionate love” to her. Of course I protested that I was not a male whore, that I would gain the greatest pleasure in wining and dining her, even if there was no chance of love-making. But, previous emotional relationships with men had invariably ended acrimoniously for her and thus this had to be business.

To quieten my remonstrations that no gentleman would accept such a situation, Florence proposed that I first had to pass her very stringent tests of my abilities in terms of the aforesaid wining and dining. If I proved capable then the test would progress to the object of her desires; her sexual demands and my ability to satisfy them.

Well, we did a show and went on to a top restaurant where we dined and wined, Florence had me worried that she had drunk too much wine but I guess she was nervous and needed dutch-courage because she gradually mellowed and her eyes softened to become ‘come-to-bed-and-fuck-me’ eyes before the meal was finished.

I again thought that she had over done the alcohol when, after ordering a particularly sticky dessert she then asked the waiter to take it away before even trying it.

At the hotel my client had booked we ordered room service where she ordered bites and a bottle of bubbly which she insisted was exclusively hers and which she insisted on imbibing from the bottle; the effect of seeing the wine drooling over her chin to drop and soaking into her smart and expensive dress was strangely erotic.

She ordered me to undress, but this was the point at which began her tuition of the benefits of occasionally submitting to the demands of others; I refused. At first Florence thought it funny but as it dawned on her that I had no intention of being controlled as she would her employees, her demeanour changed and in her alcohol fug frustration boiled to the surface.

Without warning I jumped from my relaxed position on the bed to grab her by the neck and threw her to the bed where she was in no position to fight the removal of her pair of the filmiest panties. Hauling her slim body over my knees I slapped each buttock twice and ordered her to calm down.

The initial shock of my hand slapping her smooth, firm, olive skin caused her cries to cease and her body to become rigid. The second sting of my hard hand on her soft buttocks brought a squeal from her lips. She relaxed a little and turned her head to look at me, I raised my eyebrows in an unasked question. Florence shook her head then wriggled her entire body, but not in an attempt to escape.

A total of six, not too gentle smacks, on each of the delicious orbs of her ass had her thighs that previously were like Siamese twins act as if they had quarrelled and parted. I felt Florence’s mound of venus pressing on the boniness of one knee and this she used as an anvil on which to grate and pound her pubic bone.

I admired her shapely legs clad to the upper thigh in nylon; I would leave the stockings on, as I love the feel as I slide my body between legs sheathed in this way.

Florence’s dress had a long side zip and I looked into her eyes as I slowly pulled it open; there was expectation there and they sparkled from the effects of the wine and the excitement of the spanking.

It was easier now to slip the straps of the dress from her shoulders and to tug it over her ripe breasts that were now revealed, as it was obvious that the dress had its own bra cups. Even on her back those breasts peaked firmly and each engorged areola was surmounted by fat, succulent and erect nipples.

With the zipper fully open and with a little help from my date I removed the dress to expose skin that is totally unblemished and now displayed a hint of sheen that betrayed her level of readiness for the next step.

With wet lips I planted kisses on the flesh of her breasts and upper body, like a butterfly, never staying in one spot. My fingers lightly ran and danced where a second ago the wet butterfly had landed. Instantly Florence’s skin erupted in goose bumps increasing her pleasure.

As my lips further explored her upper body my fingers teased around her knees causing her thighs to part further as if inviting the finger to explore even further. The pure white of her garter belt contrasted against the olive tone of her skin and I toyed with the straps.

With her panties in a tattered blob on the hotel room carpet I admired what the garment once barely covered. Lying flat on her back Florence’s pubic mound was magnificent, topped by a fuzz of dark hair that told me that either she has been remiss with her depilation or was allowing re-growth; I remember telling her one time that I have a penchant for fuzzy pubes.

-oOo-

Right at this moment with my fingers so close to her genitals, Florence’s hand begins to massage her breasts and her fingers tugged and teased at her engorged nipples. I am reliably informed that a woman’s nipples are as sensitive as her clitoris and offer her the same type of sensation and pleasure.

Leaning forward I plant a long deep kiss on her pubes; the sensation of that fuzz of hair and the hot skin is incredible. My tongue cannot resist wriggling into the cleft above the clitoris where all its sensitive receptors appreciate that blood pumping from her racing heart has swelled the whole area of her vulva making the labia firm and bloated yet incredibly sensual.

My date is unable to lie still as my tongue now assaults her pussy, and she wriggles her butt on the bed, a moan of pleasure and anticipation is carried on an expiration of her sweet breath. Her legs move wide apart in an explicit invitation to my head and mouth to move closer, to become far more intimate with her demanding vulva flesh.

To teach her that not everything that madam wants, madam gets, I remove all contact from her body but tease her by lightly blowing over the area of her vulva now displaying signs of a quantity of her vaginal secretions. At the itch this causes, Florence instinctively reaches out to calm the itch but I grasp her wrists and squeeze them tightly eliciting a moan of pain-pleasure.

At this point I am aware that for our first sexual encounter I have taken her to the edge of acceptance. My excited date is now ready for me to press the tip of my cock, which has obeyed my demand that it only prepares for what is to come but to remain in a flaccid state, to labia that has changed in appearance from a tightly closed slit to that from which engorged inner lips have made an appearance, to be parted by the head of my penis.

To beg me to fuck her, is as yet not in Florence’s repertoire, but it will be, I shall train her in such a way as to make her believe that it was her idea. Thus, although she is writhing and moaning in anticipation she cannot bring herself to relinquish control, and this I understand, as she is of course paying me to fuck her.

Finally, my naked body is between her thighs, and Florence is torn between splaying her smooth legs as wide as possible in total recognition of her submission to me, or holding my muscular body between her slim thighs to feel its heat and solidity. It is the former as she has been without sex for quite a time and now demands hot, thick flesh inside her sopping canal.

Slapping her hands if they should attempt to touch it I plough her vulva with the tip of my cock, forcing it hard against her clitoris, eliciting expletives from the exasperated woman.

A centimetre at a time I push my thickness deeper into her, feeling the intense heat and moisture of this under-used tight pussy. She whispers my name over and over then urges once again that I fuck her, hard or softly but to just fuck her.

The head inserted, dilating her tube, I wait a second for her pleas to increase then I push my cock hard to her depths. Her scream could wake the dead and the contractions around my cock tell me that at last she has found the infinite sexual relief as an orgasm sweeps through her body.

So began my future in this business.