Strong hands linked beneath my buttocks. I could feel the surge of power through as he lifted me effortlessly to lay me upon the bed. For a brief moment I lay upon the cool sheets looking up at the dark shadow of him. My body quivered in anticipation, thighs parted like serpents’ jaws, waiting expectantly to trap this wonderful man inside me.
With relief I listened to his urgency in that darkened room. He quickly discarded his own clothes and leaned over me. His big hands smoothed my inner thighs in torment.
Without further warning he was at the entrance to my contracting vagina. He felt the ease of entry as he stroked the head of his erect organ across its lips, sticky with female arousal.
Then he thrust and I wondrously filled with him, deep inside me.
An evening full of anticipation only left my climax micro-seconds away. So it was that almost the instant he achieved maximum penetration, I felt the bubbling, welling sensation of a shuddering climax begin to build.
I wrapped my legs tightly about him as I felt his own imminent completion. Together we chorused our fulfilment in a duet of ecstatic, breathless sighs.
Soon after, lying in an aura of exhausted contentment, I fell asleep.
Later, in the darkness, while the lights of the city still cast a glow in the room, Greg aroused me again. Even my subconscious must have anticipated his desires. In a frantic, thrusting coupling, our overwhelming hunger for each other found completeness.
When the morning sun woke me I discovered that Greg had gone.
It was but a brief moment of loss and anxiety. I was sure he’d be back.
For a while I lay luxuriating. What does a girl do for laughs in New York on a Saturday? Given the attentions of my escort, thus far, I felt the problems would prove non-existent. In the meantime I indulged myself. A room service breakfast satisfied the inner woman. It was time to clean up the outer woman; even if I was reluctant to rid myself of the exciting man smell of Greg which still clung to me.
The deep, foamy bath proved a further haven for contemplation. It was while I was soaking that I heard the outer door open.
‘Is that you, Greg?’ I called out. It wasn’t.
The sliding door opened. ‘Hi,’ he said. ‘I’m Rocky.’
My eyes swept over him. He certainly looked the part.
‘Where’s Greg?’ I enquired, forgetting to look embarrassed.
‘He’s away today.’
‘Oh,’ I said a little bitterly. ‘He was the Friday shift, was he?’
‘It’s not like that.’ He sounded a little hurt.
I looked up at him. Another centrefold.
Shut up, woman, I told myself. You’ve scored yourself a matching pair.
In the meantime Rocky was kneeling by the bath. He looked at me intently with his deep, sincere, plain chocolate eyes.
Oh, God, I thought. Here we go again.
It occurred to me that I didn’t feel half as shocked at the prospect as I ought.
Rocky spoke. ‘I’m here just for you, honey. Anything you want, you just ask.’
I handed him the soap.
If Greg had started a fire in me in the first place, Rocky just poured petrol on it.
The hands that cleansed my willing body were as gentle as those of the previous member of the escort agency. Gentle indeed, although Rocky’s were perhaps a little more industrious. He left no part of me untouched – or unwanting!
So smooth was his touch that I felt more anointed than rinsed by the time he’d finished. Dabbing me dry, he stood back to admire his work.
‘You sure are a looker, honey.’
Unlike the leering Harry, Rocky’s gaze covered my whole body in a warm glow.
I was about to thank him for the compliment, but he started to kiss me. It was about then that my knees turned to jelly. He lifted me from the bath and carried me into the bedroom.
Once he had laid me on the bed, he commenced an erotic feast on my bath-fresh body. His lips burned my inner thigh as they made the swift journey…upwards.
I ripped at his clothing, refusing to be denied my own sensual pleasure. Rocky stopped long enough to release the imprisoned body I now longed to excite. So, in an instant, he stood naked and splendid.
None more aptly named than this man before me. Rock hard, rock solid and rock heavy: he was magnificent.
In the darkness, the sight of Greg’s weapon had eluded me. Not so with Rocky. Proud and erect he stood before me ... and oh, so huge!
We adjusted our bed positions. While Rocky buried his head between my thighs allowing his tongue to play wicked games, I was likewise busy.
Taking his shaft in both hands to control it, I trailed my lips over the pulsating, velvet head, licking up and down its length, envying the power within its mighty length.
Control fought with impatience and lost as we simultaneously felt the urgency arise within us. A cocktail of emotions, exhilaration, anxiety and warmth swept over me as I lay upon him.
Raising myself above his beautifully developed torso, I straddled him again, easing myself down upon his gorgeous, throbbing shaft.
His voice was raw with passion as I experienced the thick plum of his cock head distending my sex lips to the full.
Slowly I slid down upon him ... little by glorious little.
Finally I was totally and inextricably impaled. I could feel the whole length of him inside me.
Our bodies commenced a duel dance of elation as Rocky sought to control my bouncing breasts. The contractions and spasms of the throbbing monster inside alerted me, yet did not prepare me for the final moment.
With a thrust that penetrated to the very centre of my being, Rocky exploded inside me. Together we celebrated a mutual orgasm in a chorus of torn, gasping whispers.
We lay together, spent and fulfilled.
Rocky and I spent the rest of the day sightseeing. New York is reputed to be the sort of place that girls on their own should avoid. With my powerful and rugged escort at my side however, New York was mine!
We did Fifth Avenue. Saks, Gucci and the rest of them were places I silently vowed to revisit when my Premium Bond came up. Then we called in at Tiffanys. Three floors of porcelain, chic watches and crystal. On my budget I doubt if I could have afforded a cup of coffee let alone a whole breakfast.
Our final call at Tiffanys was the jewellery section. I gazed in wonder at some of the fabulous displays. It was only when, out of the corner of my eye, I caught Rocky’s admiring eyes covering my figure that I realised diamonds were not the only friend a girl needs.
Where did the day go? The hours fled and my magic carpet ride ended in the penthouse suite looking out over the city lights. Was it really only 24 hours earlier that I’d been standing here with Greg?
It seemed we made love all through the night. Then suddenly it was dawn. Monday was here. Somewhere between waking and dozing I could hear Rocky in the bathroom.
Soon he was gone.
So was I.
The 747 cleared Kennedy and I began dozing again almost before the seat belt sign came up. I stayed awake long enough to dwell on my experiences.
It had certainly been an eventful weekend. As for the Americans ... I was a fan!
Admittedly my experience was somewhat restricted, yet it seems they certainly knew how to look after a girl – perhaps with the exception of Harry, but I suppose he’d done his best.
I allowed myself a quiet chuckle at the prospect of the next meeting between CJ and Harry. I concluded that the big chief would not be best pleased with his PR man. That was the trouble with Harry ... too hasty.
Such thoughts faded with a contented sigh. Greg and Rocky! No sir, nobody could fault those Americans for hospitality. I couldn’t have had a better time ... not even if my name really HAD been Hilary Fieldman!
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