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How Sweet It Is
ISBN # 978-1-906590-01-7
©Copyright Shermaine Williams 2008
Cover Art by Anne Cain ©Copyright January 2008
Edited by Janice Bennett
Total-e-bound books
This is a work of fiction. All characters, places and events are from the author’s imagination and should not be confused with fact. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, events or places is purely coincidental.
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The author and illustrator have asserted their respective rights under the Copyright Designs and Patents Acts 1988 (as amended) to be identified as the author of this book and illustrator of the artwork.
Published in 2008 by Total-e-bound eBooks 1 The Corner, Faldingworth Road
, Spridlington, Market Rasen, Lincolnshire, LN8 2DE, UK.
Warning: This book contains sexually explicit content which is only suitable for mature readers. This story has been rated Total-e-burning.
HOW SWEET IT IS
Shermaine Williams
Dedication
For Ricardo, always
Chapter One
As steam gradually filled the room, Ben stuck his hand under the stream of water to test the temperature before getting in.
“Ben, hurry up and get out of the bathroom.”
Even with the water running and the door closed, the voice of Andrew, his best friend and flatmate, easily carried to his ear. They had known each other for ten years, and Ben had gradually watched him become a metro sexual, spending an endless amount of time preening and posing. Of late, it had gotten worse.
“Piss off! I just got in here.”
It had started after Ben introduced him to his boss, so he knew he only had himself to blame. As a jobbing actor, Ben had been finding it hard to make ends meet until he began working as a male escort. Now he found it easy and no longer had to worry about money. Once he’d decided to do it, he’d also decided he wasn’t going to tell anyone except Andrew, whom he knew wouldn’t judge him.
His assumption had been correct and Andrew hadn’t judged him. However, he was incurably inquisitive and seemed unable to stop himself bombarding his friend with questions whenever he returned from a ‘date’. Finally unable to take any more, Ben invited him to meet Jacqueline, the owner of the escort agency he worked for and, before he knew it, Andrew had given up his job as a bank clerk in order to become an escort as well. It had only been four months, but he had been impossible ever since, spending a ridiculous amount of time and money on his appearance and generally being really annoying.
For his part, Ben had been working as an escort for ten months and loved it. As he thrust his head under the jet of water, he thought back over the many events he had attended, restaurants he’d eaten at, plays and operas he’d seen, all on the arm of a woman who was paying for the privilege of his company. Before he’d started, he’d assumed the only women who would want an escort would be lacking in the looks department, but he was pleasantly surprised. Not that all of the women were good looking, and some were a few years older than he would normally go for, but he didn’t let any of that faze him. He remained charming and attentive no matter the circumstances. Ever the professional. That was probably one of the reasons he was so popular.
After filling his hands with shower gel, he ran them over the other reason.
Lightly pulling his hard cock, he smiled to himself as he recalled his first meeting with Jacqueline when she—in all seriousness—told him that clients wouldn’t often want him for sex, but it was his choice whether or not to do so if the opportunity ever presented itself.
By now he had had sex with so many women he was no longer keeping count. He had at first, when it was new and exciting and he couldn’t believe his luck, but he was now used to the insatiable lust of his clients. Anyway, he saw a few women on a regular basis and didn’t know whether he should be counting each woman or each deed, so he’d given up on the basis that it would all get too confusing.
It had been quite an education. The women he slept with weren’t afraid to tell him what they wanted and, consequently, he learnt many new tricks. Not only was he able to use his cock to good effect but he had become very talented when it came to the use of his tongue.
Going down on a woman was one of his favourite pleasures. Though he took the chance whenever he was offered it—which was a lot—he still couldn’t help being surprised at the ecstasy that resulted from the slightest touch of his tongue to a swollen clit. Different women responded to different things and he would always take his time to find out what that was, whether she liked her clit nibbled or sucked into his mouth, lightly tickled with the tip of his tongue or her pussy lips sucked. Whatever it took, he was prepared to do it. Tasting a woman’s juice as it flowed into his mouth, listening to her moans and screams muffled by a pair of thighs tightly clamped around his head, was the best feeling in the world. There was nowhere else he ever preferred to be.
One of his favourite memories was of one of the first appointments he ever did, which turned out to be with a woman his own age. He accompanied her to a corporate event that she was obliged to go to and, still being quite green at the time, he assumed it was somehow his fault she was uncommunicative throughout the evening. It wasn’t. Even after he’d had a drink and relaxed a bit, she remained reserved when he tried to engage her in conversation. However, when they went back to her hotel afterwards, she came into her own—in fact, she turned into a different person. The timid young woman was replaced by a nymphomaniac who acted as if she had been locked away for ten years without a man in sight.
Though Ben was astounded by the change, he certainly didn’t complain. He relished every minute of the all-nighter, much as she did. With them spending so many hours together, the sex was varied and they swapped roles, taking turns being in control and determining what position they should try next.
The whole night was amazing, but one of the positions he enjoyed the most was the sixty-nine. With her lithe body on top of his, he got to bury his face between her thighs while he felt his cock slide into her throat. She was very talented, taking the full length of his shaft until his balls were pressed against her lips, spurring him on to make her feel just as good as he did. He gripped her butt cheeks and thrust his tongue deep inside her, unable to stop himself pumping his hips as she rocked against his mouth, her moans muffled by his flesh. She came in his mouth and, though he was still hard, he intended to be a gentleman and let her rest. But she had other ideas and immediately lay back on the bed, accidentally scratching him in the process of pulling him into the missionary position.
Her juicy, swollen pussy felt so good, and he took his time, watching his dick slide in and out of her, getting slicker with every thrust.
By the time the sun came up, he was drained and in some pain, but wouldn’t have changed the experience for the world. As far as he was concerned, he would be lucky if his other appointments were half as good. He never looked back.
Unlike Andrew, he didn’t go overboard when it came to his looks and only did as much as was necessary to keep in shape and look presentable. With his short dark curls, coffee and cream complexion and hazel eyes, he knew he was handsome. Besides, he’d been told enough times, and he didn’t have to work too
hard to maintain his toned physique. He had always felt out of place when he was younger, being the only mixed race boy within his group of friends, but as he got older he had definitely come into his own, using the good looks that he’d always had to his advantage.
It was the perfect job. So perfect, in fact, that he had all but given up on his acting career. When he’d started out as an actor he would go to every audition he found out about, but the urgent need to become successful had slowly diminished, and he was content with the path he had taken. He was providing pleasure to a lot of women. Regardless of how stupid, plain or boring they might be, he was always the perfect gentleman. The fact that he wouldn’t ordinarily choose every woman he slept with didn’t even come into the equation. He was getting a fuck on a regular basis and that was all that mattered. It was a situation most men could only dream about, and he was living it.
Sometimes it could be hard. Earlier that week, for example, he had spotted a woman walking toward him when he left Jacqueline’s office. It took just one glimpse, and he knew he wanted her. Her lustrous heavy mane of dark hair was swept up in a casual chignon, her face free of make-up yet looking utterly beautiful. It took all he had not to approach her. What was he going to say? ‘Hi, my name’s Ben and I’m an escort. What do you do?’ certainly wouldn’t go down too well.
It wasn’t often he cursed his job for stopping him from being able to be with a woman, but as he glanced back at her after they passed each other, he would have given anything. The instant feeling was unusual, especially since he had not even spoken to her, but as he stood in the shower now, she was all he could think of.
Though he liked to be liked, it didn’t affect his ego too much if he wasn’t a woman’s type. But he wanted this one to crave him. He wanted to be the only man in her life. After just one glance!
He wanted to find out what turned her on before spending the whole night doing it better than any man ever had. He wanted to explore every inch of her body with his lips, tongue and fingers, touching and probing every crevice until she pleaded for him. She wouldn’t have to do a thing, he would lay her back and work on her until she was nearly crying with desire.
He would let her believe there would be no let-up from the sexual torture and, as a result, she would be his completely when he decided to put her out of her misery.
She would do anything just to have him inside her and he would relish being in control, having her gratification in his hands. He would do anything and everything to make sure she was satisfied, to ensure that she could see only him.
Their session would last long, so he would have the opportunity to stop at every point along the spectrum of her desire—from gentle sensuality to passionate strength—so that she never wanted another man.
“Ben!”
Ignoring Andrew’s irate tone, he reached for the bottle of shampoo and proceeded to wash his hair, pretending he was in the flat by himself. He wasn’t entirely sure why he wasn’t living alone, he could now easily afford it. Yet he and Andrew were still sharing their stereotypical bachelor pad. With them equally popular, they were both raking it in and could afford to deck the place out with all the latest gadgets and boys’ toys. It was their dream pad and it would have been impossible had they not stumbled on the lucrative world of escorting. As a result, they appreciated everything they had and made a conscious effort not to become complacent and always remain professional. Jacqueline had advised them not to entertain clients at home, but even if they were allowed to, they wouldn’t.
As Andrew began banging on the door, Ben congratulated himself on having remembered to lock it. The racket finally stopped, and he rinsed the shampoo out of his hair before standing under the water for several more long minutes.
“Finally!” Andrew emerged from the kitchen, stuffing the last of a slice of toast into his mouth, just as Ben left the bathroom with a towel wrapped around his waist. “I’ve got a date to get ready for.”
“Since when?”
When it came to their schedules, they normally kept each other up to date, but with him not having gotten home until the small hours of the morning, Ben had no idea what Andrew was talking about.
“Last night.” He grinned triumphantly, his irritation at being made to wait for the bathroom instantly dissipating. “The woman I went out with wants to take me shopping.”
“Bloody hell! You must have shown her a good time.”
“Rocked her world!” he boasted before disappearing into the bathroom.
Ben chuckled and shook his head as he retreated to his bedroom. He didn’t think it was possible, but it seemed like Andrew enjoyed the job more than he did.
He didn’t have a date until seven p.m., but he had gotten up early in order to go shopping himself. His client was a new one and he wanted to dress to impress. Besides, he needed some new shirts.
Having a long list of regular clients was the easiest way to make money, so he always made a special effort with new ones and felt quite victorious when he succeeded in being so appealing that a woman booked him again. When a woman did that, it meant he had done his job right, she’d had a good time and he was a successful escort. It made him especially proud when he got a repeat booking from a client he’d had sex with. Not only was it more than likely he would get more sex, but it meant she enjoyed his performance. To him there was no better accolade.
As he prepared to head to the shops, it briefly crossed his mind that it was strange to be proud of the job he did, but he quickly put it out of his mind for the sake of deciding what to wear.
Initially, he’d assumed he would miss the closeness and romance of a committed relationship but as yet it still hadn’t hit him. Being in his early twenties, he was in no rush to settle down. He was having a great time with lots of various women rather than being confined to one.
Despite this, he had to admit to himself he wasn’t entirely sure how he’d react if he was confronted with that brunette he’d seen—up close and personal. It was inexplicable that a woman he didn’t even know could have such an effect on him.
Mother Nature could only manage some hazy sunshine, but it was still warm and the West End was bustling with shoppers and posers alike. Though he spent time with women nearly every day, he never got tired of them and was in his element as he walked along the street, trying not to be too obvious as he glanced at each scantily clad, shapely figure he passed. With his attention held by the bottom of a voluptuous brunette—but not the one he most wanted to see—he failed to look where he was going as he turned to enter a department store.
“Oh…sorry.” He quickly apologised after narrowly missing bumping into a pretty, petite woman who was passing through the doorway at the same time. He took a step back and held the door open for her.
“No problem,” she smiled sweetly. “Thanks.”
After a last glance back at him, she walked away, obviously knowing he was watching her do so.
Several long moments passed before he found himself able to drag his gaze from the delectable sight. In some ways, she reminded him of the incredible brunette who haunted his thoughts. Why couldn’t he get her out of his mind?
“That woman is killing me!” he muttered to himself as he continued into the store.
A few days before, he would have been sorely tempted to abandon his plans in order to follow this new woman and ask for her number—even though since embarking on his new career he’d decided it wouldn’t be right to bring a girlfriend into the equation. But now that one woman was all he could think about. It was likely he would be getting sex later that night, but even that wasn’t enough to stop him lusting after that brunette. It was inexplicable, but he couldn’t help himself.
“Can I help you with anything?” One of the sales assistants approached him after he’d only been perusing the shirts on offer for a few minutes.
“No thanks. I’m just—” Turning away from the rack, he looked into the face of the pretty young woman who was addressing him. Her eyes were almost the same colour
as that brunette’s. “Just looking for some shirts.” He managed to return her bright smile.
“Well, let me know if you need anything.”
As he watched her walk away, he decided it must be a conspiracy. All the beautiful women in the world were plotting together to make him think of that one. Just his luck.
And this one was so cute…but try as he might to focus on her, her image faded into that of the beautiful brunette. Ah, that brunette. He could vividly picture himself running his fingers through her hair as he kissed her neck, pulling it to force her to tilt her head back. Her lips would part, eagerly waiting for the feel of his hot mouth on hers, and he didn’t want to disappoint. His arms would enfold her as he tasted her, crushing his lips against hers as he slipped his tongue into her mouth. His hands would travel up and down her body as their passion increased and he’d take the opportunity to squeeze the pert round cheeks that had swayed as she’d walked away.
Not knowing how much more he could take if every woman he saw made him think of that one, he hurriedly made a purchase and kept his head down as he made his way home.
Wanting to keep away from any further such thoughts, he intended to do nothing more than lounge around the flat until it was time to leave. If he could be bothered, he might do a few push-ups later, but he certainly wouldn’t go out again. There were sexy, scheming women everywhere. The last thing he needed was for them to make him hunger for the one woman he knew he wouldn’t be lucky enough to see that night.
Looking through the extensive number of DVDs for one to occupy some of his time, he wondered whether Sod’s Law was at work—after dreaming all day about that gorgeous brunette, his client was bound to be the opposite. Jacqueline had informed him she was a theatre critic for a newspaper and they were going to see a play. He eventually came to the conclusion she must be getting on in years, and formed an image of a woman old enough to be his grandmother peering at him over the top of her half-moon glasses. It didn’t help that he would know her because she’d be wearing a white pashmina. A pashmina? He knew that was just a fancy name for a shawl. All it needed was a rocking chair and the picture would be complete.
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