by D. B. Story
When I did finally pull out, Star again reached down to ensure that my condom left with me. By now I was flaccid enough to have slid right out of her and it at the same time. She grabbed a tissue and disposed of it before I even knew it was gone.
Then she returned and crawled into my arm. This was the last thing I'd told her I wanted to do. Just hold her tightly for the rest of my time.
That part didn't quite go according to plan. Only a few minutes passed before Star suddenly stirred and I knew my time was up. You have to keep a strong business attitude in this profession if you're going to be successful, and Star was certainly being successful.
She turned on warm water and ushered me into the shower that would have held us both. Instead of getting in behind me however, Star handed me a washrag and some of the liquid mint tree soap that cleans you up better after sex than anything else.
When I got out she'd already stripped and remade the bed and reset the room. She tossed me a towel as she ducked into the shower behind me. By the time I was dried and dressed, Star was already out and drying herself.
A quick touch-up to her make-up, which I hadn't damaged badly, and a quick spray of her expensive perfume was all she needed before she shimmied back into her white dress. She slid her feet into her heels, and to my surprise I felt my libido stir. Despite seeing Star naked for the last two hours, handling every part of her body while giving her sexually everything I had to give, the moment I saw her covered up again my first thought was how much I wanted to undress her once more. Such is the magic of clothing.
But it wasn't going to happen. My time was over. Star escorted me back out to the parlor. Things had picked up a bit and there was an equal ratio of men to women now with more customers coming through the door, and a couple already vying for Star's attention. But she was still holding my hand, and I felt her grip tighten. I looked over to her.
"Will you come back again?" she asked almost shyly, sounding much younger than she appeared. She managed to make it sound like a question she'd never asked a customer before.
"If I can," I replied, knowing my time in Las Vegas was already short and all kinds of stuff always seems to go wrong at the end.
Then I handed her a hundred dollar tip, feeling at least she'd get to keep all of this money.
Her eyes looked a bit wet as she pulled me down for a kiss and I turned my cheek towards her.
Sex workers rent their bodies out by the hour, however they don't believe they've sold their souls as long as they can keep something closely held for themselves. Star was no exception. In this trade, that something is full-on intimate kissing on the lips. That alone is reserved for the lucky guy—or sometimes other woman—in their lives.
So when I had kissed Star's face earlier, I had brushed my lips over her eyelids, and across her cheek out of respect for this. And when she kissed me now, it was on my own cheek.
But that was followed by an unexpectedly tight hug, which I took advantage of to kiss her once more in my favorite spot for friends—on her soft neck.
Then we said our quick goodbyes, and next thing I knew I was riding back to the bright lights with a lot more money in my pocket than I'd expected to have.
That's not exactly true, since initially I hadn't planned to spend anything here at all. But that's not completely true either, because I'd brought more cash with me than I ever carry otherwise on this trip to start with. It goes to show I really had no real idea of what I expected here.
Chapter 2–WIFE
I did come back again five nights later. Star had made sure I'd known her schedule before she’d let me leave, though that might have just been good business practice on her part. I even got the same limousine driver, the one who knew I wasn’t the talkative sort.
This time the place was jumping when I arrived. Eight or nine girls up front, the rest of the space taken up by customers crowded in with them. Comings and goings from the back every couple of minutes it seemed.
Again Star was nowhere to be seen. However a couple girls I remembered from last week came by and told me she’d be out soon. And I hadn’t even asked yet, although I do remember mentioning her name to the limo driver before he left me alone in peace. Perhaps he’d passed it along.
Star came out alone about twenty minutes later. She was dressed like before, but this time in red, and wearing a fetching red cowgirl hat.
Three men who had been here when I arrived immediately jumped up calling for her attention. One even pulled out a sheaf of bills large enough to choke the proverbial horse. Star ignored them all.
Instead she scanned the room until she spotted me on the far side. Then she nimbly threaded her way across the room directly to me, ignoring all other entreaties.
I love the way women can walk in high-heels. Done right, it is one of the most sexually aggressive moves they have, and Star had it down pat. Like a runway model, Star crossed each foot over the other in a choreographed performance of, “I’m Hot, and I know it.” The clamor in the room dimmed as she made her crossing and they all paused to watch.
Star came to a stop just inside my comfort zone as I rose to meet her. She regarded me carefully for a moment before asking, “What’ll it be, Stranger?”
“Same thing,” I replied, knowing I was no stranger to her at all now, and grateful that this time my voice let me get it out right.
“Same price?” she asked, relishing the secret that only the two of us really knew what we were saying to each other.
I nodded, knowing that The Stranger does his talking with other than his mouth. My reward came when Star took my hand and led me back across the room and out the back—clearly breaking a couple of male hearts in the process.
We both knew the preliminaries, and didn’t need to speak during them, which added to the mystery. But some things had changed.
For starters, Star had a regular massage table in her room this time. Where she’d gotten it, or if it was because she expected me to return, I didn’t ask. I was just happy to see it since it was perfect for my needs.
I went with the lotion this time instead of the oil. And I only made one pass this time over her body, instead of two.
But I took my time on this occasion. While all of Star seems one big erogenous zone, I knew where she had responded best. I trusted that things hadn’t changed that much.
Her feet got special care, as did her ass and neck, before I gave her breasts the full treatment this time around. Star’s boobs felt the way I’ve always hoped breasts would feel—neither too soft nor too firm.
How many orgasms my treatment gave her I don’t know. She could be faking every one and I’d never really know. But if she did, then she was only cheating herself, and Star didn’t strike me as that kind of woman.
On my last kiss down low, I included one good lick as well, and felt her shiver around me.
Star didn’t bother to waste time offering “the extra” this time as she fitted my condom. And this experience of being inside her was even better than the last time.
How can that be, you might wonder? It was definitely because the stress was gone. Deny it if you wish, but a first-time experience with any woman is fraught with uncertainty. Who knows what to really expect? A woman can change her mind right up to the last second, and most of us have experienced that at least once. Why else do we get them so drunk first? That’s not helping them have a better experience. And even if she does go through with it, some experiences aren’t worth repeating.
Star and I, however, knew exactly what to expect from each other. She invited me in, and I gratefully accepted.
So it was even better than last time. And just when I was sure I was through, Star suddenly twisted her body in a way that let her push me off of her. Before I realized what had happened, she was on top of me. And from that position, she managed to coax more out of me than I’d ever thought I had to give.
Star knew better than I did what I was capable of. She grinned as she showed me just how good she really is. That grin was
infectious and had me laughing before I knew it. That got her going as well, and she barely managed to get a last spurt out of me before she collapsed on me in uncontrollable mirth. I got to hold her much longer afterwards than on my previous visit, which is what I really wanted most of all.
Afterwards Star hopped into the shower with me. There we took turns washing each other down, and drying each other afterwards. Star remarked on my stamina when my manhood again stirred at her touch. Heck, Michelangelo’s David would have reacted to that touch.
Again she escorted me personally back to the parlor, giving us every last second together. And there was no doubt this time, Star’s eyes were definitely wet.
“Are you really leaving in five days?” she said again in that adorable little girl voice she saves for special occasions.
I confirmed that I was.
“But you might be back again?”
“Yes, if they bring me back to run Phase II. But that’s not decided yet.”
Then she pushed my proffered tip away and pulled me down instead for a full, hard kiss on the lips.
By the time she was done, we both pulled back panting hard.
But there was nothing more to say. Nothing more that could be said.
I turned away as Star brushed her eyes clear, pasted on her million-dollar smile, and went back to work.
* * * *
This encounter haunted me far more than the first one had.
I’d been happy the first time around. The glow had lasted for days. I slept better than I had since arriving in Las Vegas and smiled a lot more. The decision to return for more of that was easy.
Now I felt loss. Star’s caring felt genuine to me—and I cared about her too. As the hours ticked away and last minute snags kept popping up, my memories of my time with her were an oasis in my feelings.
So on the night before my departure, I again found myself on that dark highway out of Vegas. Different driver, same destination.
Again Star was not out front—big surprise—but there was a difference. Instead of someone just telling me she’d be out soon, the other girls seemed intent on keeping me here. They kept my glass full, and one or two of them kept engaging me in small talk. It was over an hour before Star came in through the front door.
For the first time Star looked rushed, and not fully in control. Her makeup was a bit smudged, her hair in some disarray, and her face worried—though it lit up when she saw me still there.
Star quickly thanked the young woman still keeping me entertained, and took me in tow without even discussing price.
Once in her room, which I had already decided is more of a working studio; Star threw her arms around me.
“I didn’t think I’d ever see you again,” she said with surprising emotion. Then she explained the reason for that emotion.
“My period came early,” she told me, looking at me soulfully. I’ve always liked doing it myself during this time,” she added, grimacing as a cramp gripped her body, “But I know some men...” she trailed off, knowing most men are freaked out by a menstruating woman—at least one who’s not their wife.
I’m not though. I once had a girlfriend long ago who was also really into it this time of month. I also remembered one reason she’d told me why.
"And my boobs are very tender," Star added, momentarily breaking that train of thought for me. I focused back on Star. Her expressions showed she was waiting for my disapproval and rejection. She didn't get it.
"Works for me," I said simply, and was rewarded with a tentative—but very real—smile.
Star pulled out several towels to start with, although we wouldn't need them for a while yet. I caught another wince as cramp caught her. Well, this could help.
Star lay face down as usual, and I started working her over with oil again. I was slower and much more gentle this time, watching for adverse reactions. Star was full of raging hormones right now and that changes everything.
By the time I was done with her backside Star was visibly more relaxed. She turned over on her own for me to continue.
I treated her the same until I reached her chest. There I was softer than a feather on a cloud.
Star moaned and squirmed and arched her back trying to push her breasts more firmly into my hands. I was having none of it. The line between pleasure and pain can be knife-edge thin, and I did not plan to cross it today.
Star could have had more stimulation if she really wanted it. All she had to do was reach up and give it to herself. But she knew, as do I, that you absolutely cannot duplicate another's touch on your own body. If you don't believe me, try to tickle yourself the way another person can do it to you. Star couldn't do for herself what I was doing for her.
For a lighter touch still, I brushed my tongue over her swollen, too sensitive nipples. Star grabbed my head with both hands to pull me closer, but she couldn't get me to be any less gentle than I already was.
I spent a very long time on her there. It was virtually oral sex for her, since her clit could have hardly been any more sensitive or responsive. And as I'd hoped, her cramps had completely subsided by now.
That trick had come from the same old girlfriend who let out the secret that only two things cured her discomfort at this time of the month. Either a low dose of codeine that she used to smuggle back in as part of an over-the-counter pain medication from Canada, or a good set of contractions.
When I finally felt Star had received all she could possibly handle, I moved my kisses up over the rest of each breast towards her neck. Star, however, had other ideas.
She grabbed my head again and pulled it to her mouth. Before I knew it, she'd put her tongue clear to the back of my mouth!
I was so surprised that it took me seconds to realize what had just happened, and how to respond. I looked down to see her deep blue eyes regarding me calmly, watching to see how I'd take this.
While I've learned to never take anything seriously that a woman says or does during this time of her cycle, Star knew exactly what she was doing.
I finally got back to her with my own tongue, and we tongue-fucked each other until I knew my own tongue was going to be sore from all the unexpected activity for at least the next couple days.
I thought Star was still willing when I pooped out on her here, but she gave me a reason to wonder a moment later.
I reached down to part her legs so that I could give her a kiss down there, and she resisted.
I didn't look her in the face. That would have been too confrontational. She knew this drill as well as I did, and now she was concerned about something. I could guess what it was, and might even be right. But me being right or wrong wouldn't make a difference right at this moment.
Instead of looking at her, I focused on her navel and placed the fingers of each hand high up on her soft inner legs. I only applied enough pressure for her to know where they were, and waited. I would wait as long as it took.
It took nearly two minutes before Star parted her legs. But when she finally did, she opened them far wider than I needed. Despite her outward confidence, I knew she was worried that I might not truly accept her in this condition.
If she'd known me better, this would not have concerned her. What was happening with her body right now is a part of every woman. A man that can't come to terms with that isn't really a man in my eyes.
Since I already had my hands on the most sensitive parts of her legs, I gave her a quick stroke of appreciation before proceeding. She understood my gesture there as completely as I understood that she'd opened herself up so widely now to make up for her earlier hesitation. She was now trying to offer me everything!
I didn't linger over this. I gave her the quick kiss between the legs, feeling the string she would use to remove her tampon.
Before I could come up from that, Star was already sitting up and reaching out to me, condom in hand.
"You don't have to do this," I told her with complete honesty.
"I want to," Star replied, with that level ga
ze of hers that would strip a man naked—if he wasn't already, that is.
My dubious expression prompted her to add, "Really!"
In a trice, Star had my manhood dressed to go out—or more properly, in—with her. The tampon was out, and out of sight, and Star was in the pile of thick towels with her legs open. A moment after that I was where she wanted me to be.
From my point of view, Star was more into now this than before. This had become very personal for both of us. Instead of strong, controlled squeezes she'd given me before, she seemed to quiver like a bowl of Jell-O. As far as any blood goes, it's just another liquid, which is more lubrication.
At times Star pulled me down against her up-thrust nipples, doing her best to get even more stimulation. Other times she just lay there letting me do all the heavy lifting—which I didn't mind a bit.
It was a long time before we were both too exhausted to continue. She finally rolled over onto her side, pulling me alongside her in the process. I slid out, and she had my condom off and disposed of before I saw any red.
Star then crawled tightly into my arms, buried her head in my chest, and gave every indication of wanting to remain exactly there into the foreseeable future.
I ran my fingers lightly down her spine, still damp with sweat, and said softly, "Star, you are so very beautiful."
At those words, she suddenly started shaking, and I heard a muffled, "Helen."
"What?" I asked.
"Helen," she repeated. "My name is Helen, and I'm not beautiful at all!"
With those words she lost it completely. Her body was wracked with sobs much more so than the cramps had taken it before.
* * * *
Many men, surprisingly, don't know what to do with a crying woman. It freaks them out, and they run away and hide from it.
WRONG MOVE!
Provided you're not the proximate cause of her distress —if you are then leave quietly now—otherwise do with her what you'd do with any terrified or hurt child. Hold her as tightly as you can for as long as it takes, and just keep telling her it will be okay.
