Sexual Healing: An Erotic Novel

by Matt Shaw

  I paint quite the tragic figure.

  The internet browser on my mobile phone loaded up as I made myself comfortable on the sofa - still wearing the sweaty gear I had on from my earlier work out. The photo of the girl immediately came back to the screen from where I had hastily closed it this morning. I couldn’t help but to laugh to myself as I backed out and resumed flicking through the other girls once more. I shook my head - bemused why I was even still looking - and closed the page down.

  I frowned.

  Did I just see what I thought I saw or is my imagination playing tricks on me again?

  I loaded the page back up. The girl on the screen - between a red head and a blonde… She is the spitting image of Michelle. At a quick glance I would have believed it to be her had I not known it an impossibility. Looking closely and they’re clearly not the same woman but… Damn… Could be sisters. I clicked into the profile and was greeted with more photographs - all as equally impressive as the last. Curvy figure - size 10-12 I would guess, dark brown hair and light brown eyes. The smile - not shown in every picture - both welcoming and seductive. Friendly. Honest. It helped that the pictures were clearly taken by a professional in some studio somewhere. Definitely alluring.

  Danni.

  Chapter Two

  “Drug addiction forced me into my profession - supposedly the oldest - and when I kicked that I was already in too deep so my violent pimp kept me in the game despite genuine attempts to leave and get a real job.” I pushed the client back - who’d just asked me how I’d got into this job - and wrapped my mouth around his stiffening penis. He was on the bed of my luxury apartment. I was on my knees.

  He sat up and pushed me away, “What?!”

  I couldn’t help but laugh, “I’m just teasing you. Ssh!” I pushed him back again and resumed what I was doing. A gentle up and down motion of my head as I kept taking his penis to the back of my throat and out again - a particular service I am known for, if not famed for, amongst the clients in this area. When people ask me what service I enjoy giving the most I always express my liking of oral. It’s not necessarily my favourite but it is one of the easier services; the men just lay back and let you get on with it. You don’t have to worry about their hands all over your body, you don’t have to worry about how many fingers they’re trying to insert into you - or what they’re trying to insert. You can just get the job done uninterrupted.

  I couldn’t help but tease the poor guy about how I got into the job. It’s a question I am asked all too often and - at the end of the day - does the answer really matter to these men? I doubt it. The truth is much different to how I described it to the client. It started as a way of paying bills. Not from drugs, not from other addictions. Just every day bills that everyone has. Living costs, university fees, that kind of thing. I’ve always enjoyed sex and it seemed an obvious path after one of my friends suggested it. She was on the game long before me and she said it was an easy way to make money. My first booking was with her; one of her regular clients wanted a threesome and she roped me in (for a price). I didn’t need much convincing, especially knowing she was going to be there with me. She said - I didn’t have to do anything I didn’t want to. Like I said - I didn’t need much convincing. A week after that appointment and I had my own profile set up on the world wide web. I have a list of likes and dislikes, to help potential clients make an informed decision, I have my number listed, I have a section for frequently asked questions such as ‘will I have unprotected sex with a client’ (no) and ‘do I do anal’ (no). Of course you still get people asking such questions but they’re easily enough to ignore or block. I tend to block as it’s easier and stops them repeatedly hassling you for an answer - which has happened in the past. On my profile page, I also have my rates clearly listed. These are non-negotiable; one hundred pounds for half an hour, one hundred and fifty pounds for an hour, two hundred and eighty for two hours - and so on, so fourth right up to fifteen hundred pounds for a full night. Along with my photographs, which I try and keep up to date to save disappointment, there is also an area where the clients get to have their say by leaving feedback as to how they felt the appointment was. I’ve been in this game for over three years now and have three hundred and sixteen reports left about the sessions - mostly positive. The ones which aren’t - clearly written by other girls looking to sabotage my business. One negative review on my page and ten positive reviews for one girl in particular. It doesn’t take a genius to know it’s the woman herself writing the reviews under a fake name. They used to bother me but not anymore. Even if the website went down - I have enough regulars keeping me going. Business is good.

  The client’s leg twitched. I looked up to his face. He was facing the ceiling with his eyes shuts. A grin of satisfaction on his face as he stifled back the moans. I pulled my mouth away and started to use my hand to pleasure him. A firm grip close to the head and a steady rhythm is what’s needed to bring a man to orgasm along with the golden rule: Do not stop. If you stop - break momentum - you ruin the flow and building up of the orgasm. You have to start again. Of course - sometimes - the client actually stops you from finishing him off. They don’t want to ejaculate too close to the start of the appointment because they know that they only have one orgasm to give. This usually applies with the older gentlemen. The younger ones - they tend not to have that problem. If they shoot their load in the first ten minutes of the appointment, it’s not long before they’re ready to go again.

  As if on cue I felt the client’s hands on my head. He gave me a gentle tap and muttered for me to stop. I did as he requested - important if you want to succeed in this game. If you want to get a good reputation then you do what you’re asked, so long as it is on the list of likes. If they’re asking for something you don’t offer then, obviously, you don’t oblige them. The client tapping me, asking me to cease, was not a surprise to me. I knew what he wanted. His appointment, just as the previous ones, were never going to stop with just a blow job. I looked up at him again. He was staring down at me with a grin on his face.

  “Nice?” I asked.

  He nodded, breathless.

  I started to trace the insides of his legs with my fingers, starting at the ankles and slowly moving my way up to the insides of his thighs. His whole body trembled as I tickled his testicles. With one of my hands, I moved his legs further apart. He knew what was coming. Of course he did. He’d requested it. He lifted his knees in anticipation. One hand still tickling his balls, I reached to the side of where he was lying and took a hold of one of the condoms I’d earlier prepared. I stopped tickling him long enough to tear the foil. I pulled the rubber out. He sighed out loud in anticipation.

  “Ready?”

  He nodded again. A look of pure filth and lust on his face.

  The condom wasn’t for his cock. I lowered it over the top of two fingers and rolled it right down as far as I could get it. I reached back across to where I’d collected it from and took a hold of a small tube of lubrication. I applied some to the head of the rubber and tossed the tube back to where I’d just taken it from. The man sighed again in anticipation. He licked his lips and moved his legs as far wide as they could go, with his knees as high as he could get them. I took a hold of his erect penis with the rubber-less hand and slid my mouth over it once more. The client moaned as I started moving my head up and down at a gentle pace. Whilst working his shaft, I started to tickle his anus with my two rubber-covered fingers. When they were lined up to his relaxed asshole, the client squirmed and pushed down on them. With thanks to the lube, they slid in easily and I was soon gently fucking his ass whilst he moaned and begged for more. All the time I worked his erection - and his ass - I kept a close eye on his facial expressions and movements of his body. All the time he squirmed, and pushed down, I fucked him harder. Whenever he pulled away, I took it as a sign I was being too rough and backed away slightly. Occasionally I’d let off from sucking him so as not to let him ejaculate too soon but I never let off penetrating him.
This was just the tip (so to speak) of what he wanted and I needed him really relaxed for what was to follow.

  There is a trick to penetrating a man’s anus and that is to treat it as a woman’s vagina. Don’t just go with a in and out motion. Add a twist to it. As you push it, twist slightly to the left or right. Reverse that twist as you pull back out. Never pull all the way back out. Come close - yes - but reinsert before they actually slip back out and never forget that the muscles there will be trying to push you out. The longer you leave the fingers in there, continually moving, the easier the ass stretches and - soon enough - you’re able to fit more digits in if you so choose.

  I won’t be putting any more fingers in.

  On the bed, next to where he was writhing around in ecstasy, there was a number of various toys for us to play with - all of which he’d requested. A happily married man, (so he says) this is one of his favourite sexual activities and yet he feels too embarrassed to share it with his wife. In previous appointments he has stated it feels wrong to enjoy it so much yet he is not alone with this fetish. Although there are a lot who’d refuse to admit it, a lot of men actually love it. Amongst the various toys was a medium-sized butt-plug. The tip of the toy was fairly narrow to ensure you could squeeze it into tight spaces with relative ease but as you went down the shaft of the plastic device, it widened significantly before narrowing once more at the base. The plastic - at the base - curved off at a strange angle, no doubt designed to stop the toy from getting lost and to give the person controlling it something to grip. The tip - as well as being narrow - was at a slight angle to maximise the amount it hit the man’s prostate. I withdrew my fingers and pushed the narrow tip of the toy against the man’s rectum. Once again he pushed down. No need for lubrication now. The lube previously on the condom had worked his ass into a wet slippery hole with easy access.

  “Now you wait there and don’t you dare remove it!” I said to the client in a stern tone of voice. I got up from where I was kneeling and reached for a large purple strap-on. The client was watching me with eyes like a hawk and a slight smile on his face as he continued to writhe around gently on top of the plug filling his hole. As I picked the harnessed plastic cock up, and stepped into it, he started to gently stroke himself.

  “You look so fucking hot,” he muttered when the strap-on was fully secured into place. He sat up and beckoned me closer to him. I shook my head. “Come here.”

  “Beg!”

  “Please come here.”

  “Please what?”

  “Mistress!”

  “Better.”

  I walked over to him until my rigid cock was a couple of inches away from his mouth. He looked me in the eye longingly.

  “Suck it!” I ordered him with a nod. He wasted no time in in sinking his mouth over my cock. I took a hold of his head with both of my hands and helped move it back and forwards as he greedily slurped on what was soon to be inside him. “Spit on it!” I instructed. I let go of his head and he pulled back - letting the plastic member slip from his mouth. He spat saliva over the end of it. “Now wank it!” I told him. “Make it wet!” He ran his hand over the toy as though it were his own penis. A look of lust in his eyes and determination to do the best job he possibly could. This isn’t the first man I’ve had in this position. As I’ve previously mentioned, it’s a common fantasy (mostly kept secret). As I looked down upon him - and the other clients seen in this position before him - I’ve often wondered what was going through their minds. Were they picturing me as I stood before them ready to fuck them with this toy or were they imagining I were a man? Most like the feeling of being fucked but is that due to the prostate being their G-spot or because they’re fulfilling a deep, unspoken fantasy of being with a member of the same sex? One thing that is important to note of my job; I am paid to do as asked (again, within reason). I am not paid to ask questions. “That’s enough!” I pushed him off my cock and told him, “Turn around. On your knees!”

  I stepped back a moment giving him room to move. His wanting smile broadened as he turned around and repositioned himself on the bed before me - his ass aimed upwards, still with the toy filling it - waiting to be replaced by the thickness of the next instrument. I approached him and teasingly brushed his inner thigh with the plastic cock. I took a hold of the butt-plug’s handle and gave it a gentle twist. He moaned in pleasure and - once again - begged me to fuck him. I withdrew the butt-plug and let it drop to the floor.

  A slap of his ass, “Spread your cheeks!”

  He did as he was instructed and spread his cheeks open, stretching his gaping hole a little wider in the process, as I gently nudged the helmet of my appendage against him.

  “Beg!” I hissed.

  “Please, Mistress.”

  With my hands on his hips, I thrust forward - penetrating him deeply. He screamed - a mix of both pleasure and pain. I held it there for a moment as I watched him tense around my cock a few times as though trying to get used to the sensation of something so long and thick inside of him. I listened as he breathed heavily. As soon as it looked as though he’d settled a bit I withdrew slightly before slowly pushing back in. There was no scream this time, just the sound of a satisfied grunt. I continued a few minutes with this method - watching how his body reacted to each thrust, listening to how he sighed, grunted, or moaned in pleasure and then - when he started pushing back onto the cock harder with each of my thrusts forward - I increased the speed and hardness with which I thrust. It wasn’t long before we were really going for it. He’d lifted his ass higher in order to make it easier for me to penetrate him and he’d buried his face into the pillow which served as a silencer for his increasing grunts and groans.

  He’s my bitch now, just as his email requested.

  A few more minutes of hard banging and I decided he’d probably be close to having enough now. The clients (some at least) might enjoy this but that doesn’t mean they like/want it going on for hours. I started to slow it down as I reached around to his hard-on with my left hand. It was plenty big enough before I started to fuck his ass but now - somehow - it seemed to be even bigger. I started to stroke his thick shaft up and down as I continued pulling out and pushing into him with my own cock. His hands - outstretched before him on the bed - gripped the duvet tightly as his groans grew in volume, despite the pillow.

  “Don’t you dare cum,” I hissed as I gripped his cock tighter and stroked harder. “Not without permission…”

  “Please, Mistress,” he sighed between groans.

  “Please what?” I snapped back.

  “Please let me cum.”

  I started to stroke him harder and faster until his legs twitched. Here it comes. I stopped rubbing his shaft when I felt the tell-tale twitch from his cock and covered the end of his cock with my other hand as stream after stream of hot semen splashed against my skin, accompanied by his loud groans of satisfaction. Happy he was finished, I slowly withdrew the rigid penis from his ass and told him to turn around and face me. He did as he was told and watched as I gave the purple shaft a quick wipe down with a towel I’d left on the floor before the appointment had begun. When it looked to be clean, I ran my spunk covered hand over it and inched the sticky phallus towards his face.

  “Clean it!” I ordered him. He didn’t need telling twice as he greedily went about licking it clean with a look of hunger in his eyes.

  *

  Before this job sex was a bit of fellatio, missionary, cowgirl and usually completed in doggy or sixty-nine. This job has opened my eyes. Not all appointments involve kinky games. Not all appointments have a use for extra toys purchased from various online stores. Some of them just require a little bit of oral, sex in a couple of positions, and a strong hand-job in order for the client to reach their happy ending. That being said, there isn’t a lot I haven’t seen (or done). If I were to have a preference for an appointment I would still sway towards the ones which were mostly oral related as they were easier but appointments like the one who’d just left we
re at least fun, if not tiring.

  After each appointment - of which I usually work one a day as I like to stay as fresh as possible for clients - some girls jump on their webcams in order to get some quick money from men who just like to watch. But that’s not my style. I tried it once and - as silly as this sounds - I just felt sleazy. Instead I clean the apartment of any trace of the last client. If they’ve walked dirt through the rooms they’ve been in, I hoover. If they’ve had a drink, I wash the glass up. If they’ve washed with one of the clean towels I’ve provided, I throw it in the washing machine along with the bed sheets. By cleaning the place up, after they’ve gone, I actually feel as though I’m a maid turning down a hotel room ready for the next guest. It’s not my favourite part of the job but it is necessary. If the place is a mess, or there’s crusted semen on the bed linen - I can expect negative feedback on my profile page. Negative feedback equals less customers. Along with washing the bed sheets, and towels, I also throw my clothes into the washing machine too; the knickers I’ve worn, the bra, the short revealing dress (or specified outfit requested by the client). Even if I’ve worn the items for less than five minutes before I am stripped off - it doesn’t matter - they get a thorough washing as do I via a long soak in a hot bath; my private time. No internet, no emails, no phone calls through to the business line (which is always off during my time with clients and turned back on again after my bath) - just me and a blissful silence along with a good book.