by Matt Shaw
I cut her off, “And where did your thoughts end?”
“I thought it might be nice to give it a try.” She seemed coy. A woman completely different to the one I’d met when I came for my first appointment. I smiled. Seems like a lifetime ago.
I moaned out loud and opened my eyes as I came heavily into the hand covering the end of my cock. My hand. My other hand wrapped around the shaft of my still-erect penis. I turned my head to the side; she isn’t with me. I’m alone in my own bed. Just me and my surprising fantasies.
It is too late for Michelle and I - I know that now - but it seems as though my brain has latched on to another impossibility. I reached for a tissue and gave my hand a wipe as I started processing the earlier conversation I’d had with Danni, with regards to her clients falling in love with her. I can see why she’d be dubious. She is paid to suck them off for a living so it’s not as though they know the real woman. They know the fantasy she is paid to play. It’s a shame the desperate men out there have to ruin it for the rest of us though. Maybe if I talk to her? Maybe if I explain how I’m not like the other men she sees? Maybe there’ll be a chance for us? I could just book another appointment and take it from there? Talk to her in my time. It’s my hour so I’m sure she wouldn’t mind and it’s not as though I have anything to lose.
Nothing to lose and everything to gain?
I dropped the dirtied tissue into the waste paper bin by the side of my bed. I’ll empty it in the morning. And then I’ll email her. I reached for the lamp on the bedside cabinet and switched it off, plunging the room into darkness. Immediately my thoughts started to question whether she’d even agree to see me again after the last time. The pessimist in me has its doubts. Tomorrow, I hope to prove it wrong.
*
I woke up feeling optimistic about the day. No doubt helped along by a dream I’d had during the night; I was going out with Danni. She’d changed careers and was living with me. I wasn’t sure what her new job was, the dream didn’t go into that, but we were both happy. I even drove to work with a smile on my face because of it. Well, that and the fact I knew I was going to be emailing her again soon.
Instead of grabbing a hot drink from the cafeteria, I went to my workstation as quickly as I could in order to send her a message before I was officially supposed to be on the clock. The email started with another apology for my lie. It went on to say that I hoped it wouldn’t ruin things between us - on a business level. I told her that she was helping me move on with my life; she’d done more for me these last couple of sessions than I had done for myself in the past five years and yet I’m not entirely sure what she’d done other than to look like Michelle and to be there for me. Who knows - maybe that was enough? I didn’t put that in my email. I asked her for an appointment whenever she was free this week at what had become our usual time. I knew she was a busy lady and she knew I was free during the evenings so - any day that fitted with her would work for me. I just hoped that it wouldn’t be too long before I got to feel her touch against my skin again. After our conversation that is. I smiled as my imagination started to get carried away - maybe our time together, after the conversation, will be had without the need for money to change hands? I tried to dismiss the thought from my mind. She hasn’t even agreed to the appointment yet. I can’t get ahead of myself as it could only lead to disappointment. I pressed ‘send’ on the email and watched as it went from the outbox to the sent folder. Now I have the agonising wait to see how she responds.
I put the phone in my pocket and turned my attention back to the work computer in front of me. Another day of inputting numbers. Another day of being on the edge of my seat waiting for her email to ping through to the inbox.
Chapter Eleven
I was sitting in the small cafe with my long-term friend Sophie. Just as I was on the game, so was Sophie. She’d been a friend of mine for over two years and I still classed her as one of the prettiest girls I’d met. Where I had dark hair, she had red hair. Where my hair was long, her’s was shorter - just off of her shoulder to be precise. I was a size twelve, she was a size eight. We both looked good and frequently attracted the unwanted attention of men when we hit the town together. They’d come up pestering ask, asking if they could buy us drinks. We always turned them down.
We’d met on one of the social-networking site’s many functions (they like organising little events for people to get the chance to meet and have a drink) and we’d hit it off more or less immediately. Although we were both busy, we tried to meet at least once a month for a catch up. This little catch up had been dominated by talks of Jake - and the fact he’d emailed me again today. I was grateful that she was free.
“I think you’re crazy,” she said helpfully.
“Well - yes - you could say that.”
“I’d never have agreed to that scenario. It’s one thing to pretend to be a naughty nurse or an obedient secretary who’d do anything to please her boss but - fuck - his dead wife?”
“You haven’t been listening! She isn’t dead!”
“You didn’t know that. It’s a bit creepy.”
“I thought I was doing him a favour.”
Sophie laughed, “You look like his wife and now you’re pretending to be his wife. And you didn’t think the man would get attached to you? There comes a point where Danni no longer exists and when he emails you - he is actually emailing, and talking to, his ex-wife.”
“I don’t know. He didn’t have to tell me the truth yesterday. I think he’s harmless, just confused about what he wants.”
“So he is very sorry he lied to you and hopes that he can continue seeing you. I’m sorry honey but alarm bells are ringing. You need to nip this in the bud as soon as possible. Shit, if I were you - I wouldn’t even see him again. I wouldn’t even reply to his email. That’s what the block button is for.”
“I thought I was doing him a favour.”
“So what are you going to do now?”
“I emailed him.”
“You what?”
“I replied.”
“Jesus. What did you say?”
“I reiterated that I was okay with what he told me. I informed him I wasn’t comfortable with role-playing as his ex anymore though. Knowing she was alive, I didn’t think it was healthy.”
“You don’t think it is healthy but you’re okay with pretending to be a dead person?”
“It’s not the same.” I sighed, “I wish I didn’t tell you.”
“Well clearly you’re concerned about it otherwise you wouldn’t have told me! I’m telling you, the guy is trouble. He is infatuated with someone he cannot have and now he wants to keep seeing you. It can’t be for your personality because you are always pretending to be his ex. He has an obsession and it won’t be long before it goes from being about her to you.”
“That’s why I wanted to talk to you.”
I didn’t disagree with what Sophie was saying in the slightest. I was fully aware that there was a danger Jake could ‘fall’ for me; especially given the fact he’d already spent so much money on me. On the one hand it was nice to see regular clients but on the other I always worried that they couldn’t really afford the appointments to the level they were having them. I never said anything to them though. It wasn’t my place to. If they wanted an appointment, they got one. And - besides which - for all I knew, they could have been millionaires.
I’d hoped by saying what I said last time - about reaching out to his ex - that he might have taken a little time to go back to chasing her in order to either rekindle the romance or put that necessary final nail in the coffin lid. Going with the fact he was contacting me again, especially so soon after our last appointment, I am guessing he didn’t bother with her…
“I think you need to tell him no,” Sophie said. “You need to get in touch with him and tell him straight - you can’t see him anymore. Tell him it’s not fair on him and it’s not fair on you for being in that position. And then - once you’ve sent the message - bloc
k him so he can’t turn around and talk you into it.”
“I still feel as though I can help him. He just needs a little helping hand and I think I can offer it.”
“You offer enough helping hands, mouths and cunt to enough desperate men. You don’t need to help him.”
“I reckon one last appointment is all I need and then I’ll tell him - face to face - that I cant’ see him anymore.”
“I’m telling you it’s not a good idea. I’m guessing you still don’t have security?”
I shook my head. Sophie didn’t offer incall appointments. She only saw clients in their home or in their hotels and - to every appointment - she went with a driver. Someone who’d sit in the car outside with their phone in their lap. She’d go in and text that everything was okay. If the appointment was going to go on longer, she’d text them again. If the appointment went over and there was no text - the driver would go and find her to make sure all was okay. In the few years she’d been working - she’d never once had any issues; the rule of the driver being very clear on her profile page when the clients made the booking. I, on the other hand, felt as though I could look after myself. Foolish, I guess, but I’ve never had any serious issues to worry me enough into getting some minder to come and wait close by. Besides - the way I saw it - if a client wants to hurt you, it really doesn’t make much of a difference if there is someone sitting in a car outside. They’re going to hurt you regardless.
“Do you want to borrow my man? I pay him petrol and thirty quid an hour. I think it will be worth it.”
“I was thinking something else…”
Sophie sighed, “When are you seeing him then?”
“Tonight hopefully…”
*
I was sitting on the sofa watching the clock count down the final minutes until the appointment. I felt nervous. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d felt nervous about a session with someone. It was silly really. Despite the danger he could fall for me - Jake wasn’t a bad man. He was a lonely man. That was all. A lonely man who couldn’t let go of his past. I can relate to that feeling. My first love cheated on me and - despite that - I was devastated when the relationship fell apart. I knew he was bad for me and yet I wanted to be with him. As time had gone on, I did meet new men but they all had similar traits to my first boyfriend; something that my family used to tease me about. You just need someone else to come along and open your eyes up to other possibilities and that’s where I was hoping to help Jake move on with his own life.
Despite knowing it was coming, the knock on the door startled me.
I got up, pulled my short black dress down to straighten out the crinkles from where I’d been sitting, and walked from the living room, down the hallway, to the front door. I opened it and Jake was standing there with a smile on his face. Without being asked to, he stepped in. He leaned close to me and gave me a peck on the cheek.
“Thank you for seeing me,” he said. “How are you?”
Without being asked he handed me the usual fee.
“I’m good - thank you,” I said. I pointed him through to the living room and told him I’d be right in after I’d put the money away. Once the money was safe, I called through to where he was waiting, asking if he needed a drink.
“I’m fine thanks. I had one before I came.”
I walked through to the living room. He was standing by the window. He looked nervous.
“Are you okay?” I asked him.
He nodded. “I was just thinking about what you said the other day,” he hesitated, “about clients falling for you… How do you know they aren’t actually falling for you? You think they’re falling in love because you’re sucking them off but that might not be the case…”
I stopped him. I knew where this was going already. He might think he was the first to have this conversation with me but he wasn’t. Many a man had tried - and failed - with it before, “I’m sorry but - for the sake of the appointment - this is probably a conversation we should have at the end.”
He looked surprised by the way I’d stopped him. He probably expected me to stop him immediately and say it wasn't something I wanted to talk about; a way of shooting him down in flames. But then he would have argued with me how I can trust him and how he is different - things I had heard a million times before.
“Now - as my email stated - I’m taking charge this time and we’re not role-playing as your ex. Was that acceptable?”
He nodded, still surprised by this side of my character. The dominant side; ready to give him a session which would help him move on from his past. I walked over to the sofa and picked up a black satin blind-fold. I tossed it over to him. On reflex, he caught it.
“What’s this?”
“I want you to put it on,” I instructed him.
He laughed, “Really?”
I folded my arms and raised an eyebrow. He took that as a sign I was serious and put it on. I walked over to him and threw my fist towards his face. He didn’t flinch away. Good - he can’t see. I took him by the arm and led him through to the bedroom where I pushed him onto the bed. He laughed as he bounced on top of the mattress. “Put your hands above your head,” I instructed him. He did as he was told like an obedient slave. I tied his hands to the headboard with scarves I’d earlier prepared. He smiled.
“This is different.”
“Shut the fuck up.”
With his hands bound, I undid the buttons on his white shirt before flinging it to open revealing his bare chest. I moved down to his belt and jeans - undoing both in the process. I pulled his jeans down, along with his shorts. He was already standing to attention but he’d have to wait a little longer. I’m not ready yet. I grabbed each leg in turn and bound them with scarves tied to the feet of the bed in such a way his legs were forced apart with easy access to cock and balls. A position I’d put many a man in before now. He tried to squirm around but the scarves held tight.
“How’s that?” I whispered in his ear.
“It’s good,” he grinned.
“You like?”
He nodded, “I do.”
“Michelle ever do this to you?” I asked.
He shook his head, “Never.”
I’d had a feeling, from previous conversations, that this wasn’t her style. Even if it had been it wouldn’t have mattered. It was a necessity. I ran my finger-nails lightly down his chest towards his groin. He shuddered in anticipation of my touch. I looked down and his penis was now fully-erect. Without a word I gently stroked it with my hand. It twitched in response. I leaned back to his ear, “Ready?”
He licked his lips in anticipation and nodded. He went to say something but I put my hand over his mouth and told him he wasn’t allowed to speak.
Chapter Twelve
Her lips sunk around my cock and moved their way down the shaft until I was right at the back of her throat. I sighed with pleasure. As she slowly started to move her head back up again, freeing some of my penis from her mouth, I felt her hand wrap itself tightly around the base. A second hand made me shudder with excitement as it started to touch my testicles, fondling them lightly.
“That feels great,” I sighed.
She started to move her head up and down my hard-on, drooling spit on it as she did so making it nice and wet. Her hand - still wrapped around my shaft - started to move in perfect sync with her mouth. Her tongue lapping greedily at both shaft and head. I tried to move but the restraints kept me firmly in place. I gasped out loud as the hand fondling my balls turned its attention to my anus. A strange but not entirely unpleasant feeling.
“What are you doing?” I asked, nervously.
“Shut up,” she ordered me.
One finger tickling my arse as both hand and mouth continued their joint coordination on my penis. It hadn’t even been five minutes and yet I started to feel the build of an orgasm getting ready to shudder through my body.
“Slow down,” I begged her. I wanted the orgasm, sure, but I didn’t want the end of the session. No
t yet. Just a bit longer. I want to feel myself slide inside of her. I wanted to taste her cunt, feel her juices smear across my face. I wanted it all. “I’m close,” I warned her. Just as quickly had she started fucking me with her mouth, she stopped. I tried to see past the blind-fold around my head but it was too tight. “Take this off,” I begged. “I want to see you.”
“No.”
I flinched as I felt the familiar feel of latex touch upon the head of my penis and I sighed as the rubber sheath was rolled down the length of my shaft. A tight hand wrapped around it once more, slowly moving up and down as though to remind me that - although I was wearing a rubber - I wasn’t going to enjoy what was to come any less. I groaned in both pleasure and frustration. She released my dick and I felt her weight shift on the bed. I felt a knee land on the mattress either side of me. Two hands around the back of my head pulled me close into her snatch. I seized the opportunity to give it a lick. My tongue working her clitoris, making her sigh. She held the position for a blissful couple of minutes before pulling away from me. I tried to follow with my head - my tongue poking out desperate for another taste of her delectable juices. Her weight moved back down the bed; a leg either side of my body. Her hand back on my cock as it guided me into her tight, tight cunt. I sighed audibly. She paused a moment before slowly sliding up and down my shaft - from tip to base in deep controlled movements. Despite the rubber, it felt amazing as she expertly worked her pelvic muscles to squeeze me and release me with each riding movement. Fingers rubbed my nipples - causing them to stand to attention - before giving them a squeeze. I gritted my teeth as she squeezed harder; a little laugh from her.
“Take the blind-fold off,” I begged.
“You want to see me?” she asked.
“I do.”
“Beg.”
“Please.”
“Please what?” she teased as she continued to ride me.
“Please take the blind-fold off so I can see you.”
