by Seth King
I grinned and licked my lips. “Because it’s time. I’m going to take you now, Mrs. Robinson.”
I turned off the shower, picked her up so her legs were wrapped around me, and carried her into the bedroom. Her expansive windows were framed by simple white curtains that hung straight to the floor, and her furniture was modern and expensive-looking. On one side of the bed hung a painting of a doe in a bright forest, and on the opposite side was a bust of an ancient Roman god with a sickle and a clock. Trying not to acknowledge the painting of Jesus with the stigmata hanging over her bed, I set my married client down on her own two feet and knelt before her. Then I grabbed a towel and proceeded to towel-dry every inch of her as slowly as I could, stopping to lick the one spot of her I knew would never be quite dry tonight. The slower I went, the deeper her breathing got, and the taller the hairs on her arms stood on end. Then I tossed aside the towel and stood over her – but suddenly something caught my eye.
“Why are you looking over my shoulder like that?” I asked, and I turned to see my own face – and naked ass – floating above me. “You have a mirror above your bed?” I asked with a smile, turning back to her. “Wow – you actually are freaky.”
“No,” she said, averting her eyes, a sad tone in her voice. “It’s not really what it looks like…I got the idea from a romance novel, I figured maybe it’d help my husband sleep with me sometimes, but…well, it didn’t work.”
Something inside me broke for Grace. I leaned forward and brushed my stubble against her earlobe.
“Well get ready,” I whispered.
“For what?”
“For the mirror to work on someone.”
She moaned, and I kissed my way her chin, her neck, her clavicle, her nipple. “This is what I want you to do,” I said in between nipping on her left and then right nipples. “You’re going to look up into the mirror, and you’re going to grab my hair, and you’re going to watch me put my head between your legs and eat your pussy until you come. I want you to stare at my whole body while I eat you. If you stop watching at any time before you come, I’ll punish you. Do you understand?”
She nodded, and I got to work. I ran my tongue down to the space between her pussy and her inner thighs, licking the sweet skin. “Pull my hair,” I demanded again, and she grabbed it and started pulling. “And don’t stop watching. Women have been leered at long enough – it’s time to turn the tables and have my ass checked out for a change. I can handle it.”
She writhed and moaned as my tongue made its way to her clit once again, running over and over and around. She tasted so fucking good and I had no clue how I hadn’t fucked her yet. As I slipped in one finger and began stroking her G spot, I turned around and made eye contact with her in the mirror. Her eyes were hooded with desire, and her whole body was trembling. She was laid out flat, her drying hair fanning out around her, and my head was nestled between her thighs as I stared up at her. She looked fucking gorgeous, and I couldn’t wait to take her.
“Do you like watching me eat this pussy?” I asked, and she nodded slowly. I reached around and slapped my own ass for her.
“What was that for?” she whispered.
“Just wanted to make myself feel a little pain and make sure I wasn’t dreaming – that’s how good you taste.”
She convulsed and then looked down at me again. “What is with you and foreplay? Not that you aren’t amazing. But why don’t we just do it?”
I jumped a little. “Um…we will soon. Are you ready to come again before that?”
“Mhmm,” she breathed, and I turned around and let my lips close around her clit. I sucked gently as I ran two fingers in and out, faster and faster, lobbing hits on her G spot, and she didn’t last long – her tugging on my hair become harder until her whole body suddenly seized, and she fell apart into a million shudders and tremors.
“God, you’re perfect,” she said a moment later as she pulled me up by the head and kissed my forehead. I rested on her chest to listen to her heart, lingering there for several minutes as thoughts swirled through my head, brain to heart. I’d come here half-expecting to find some desperate older gal waiting to seduce me in a darkened corner with her legs crossed, wearing a leopard print trench and heels or something. But Mrs. Robinson was so much more than that – she was a living, breathing human, with thoughts and fears and feelings, just like anyone else.
But mostly, as I lay there, I felt contentment. And that scared me. A lot.
“Fuck me, Ben,” she breathed. “Please.”
“I’ll get started in a minute,” I said, trying to stay cool. “Are you going to get your money’s worth and instruct me to do everything you like, in exactly the way you want it?”
“Yes, Ben.”
“Okay, but first, there’s something I have to tell you,” I said. “The thing is, I’m a…”
“A male escort?” she interrupted. “I already knew that. You’re going to have to pull out something worse than that if you want to shock me.”
“No, but I am a…”
“I know what you’re going to say,” she broke in. “This is your first time doing this, isn’t it? This whole escorting thing?”
“Um, yeah. How did you know?”
She took a long breath. “Because it’s my first night, too, and I see myself in your eyes.”
“Oh.” I looked away. “Well, there’s something else you need to know, too.” I took a breath. “I’m…I’ve never…”
“Never what?”
“Never met someone as beautiful as you,” I said, making my lips touch hers, deciding to drop the subject. I could figure all that out later. I wanted this woman, right here, right now, and I couldn’t wait another fucking minute.
“Oh, Ben,” she moaned into my mouth. “You’re so fucking sexy. I don’t think I’ve ever been so wet in my life. Fuck me now, please.”
“But didn’t you know?” I asked her, holding my cock in my hands, deciding to let Bad Ben come out and play again. “Heaven holds a place for those who beg.”
“Please, Ben,” she moaned.
“Please, what?”
“Please just fuck me,” she said, her voice husky and desperate, and suddenly I knew exactly what I was going to do next. I pushed her back onto the bed and started my tongue’s assault on her neck, licking and sucking and kissing my way from one earlobe over to the other, making her flood with moisture against my bare knee again. This was it – the big reveal. And not just physically. Here I was – I couldn’t hide anymore. Sex was the one place where I couldn’t run from reality; shove aside the truth and put on that brave, bad-boy act as a mask. I was baring my all, exposing the lonely, scared, and fucking horny little kid I was. So what would she think?
“This isn’t like one of those romance novels you read, is it, Mrs. Robinson?” I asked my client as she moaned under me.
“No,” she breathed, making me grin against her skin.
“I know – it’s better. This is real life. I’m here, I’m young, I’m horny, and – best of all – I’ve got a really big dick. Now sit back and hold on – this is gonna be like nothing you’ve ever read before.”
As Mrs. Robinson moaned once more and did as she was told, I slid my tongue south and wrapped my lips around her nipple, which hardened deliciously under my tongue. I hadn’t expected to like my client this much, but now that I was here, I couldn’t fucking get enough of her. I bit her nipple lightly, relishing in her groan again as she arched her back and took a breath, and it wasn’t until I headed still further south and placed a few kisses around her navelthat the bravado started to melt away and the guilt began creeping in.
I had to do this. I knew that. I needed this paycheck more than anything, and my sister was depending on me to save her. Everything was riding on this beautiful stranger riding my face after I fucked her. But as I placed my dick against Mrs. Robinson’s clit and prepared to torture her with the tip of it like my thoughts were torturing me, I couldn’t help but wonder: how in the hell d
id I let myself become a male prostitute tonight?
I didn’t have too much time to wonder, though, because suddenly a pair of blazing headlights careened through the window from the driveway outside and lit the opposite wall like the devil’s smile, making us both sit up straight on the bed.
“Who is it?” I scream-whispered at her, my high crashing immediately. “Is it your kid or something? You didn’t tell me you had a kid!”
“I wish it was my kid,” said Mrs. Robinson, terror dripping from her every syllable.
“Why?”
She turned to me with the fear of a thousand gods in her eyes. “Because I think it’s my husband.”
“Oh, fuck.”
“And Ben?”
“Yes?” I asked as my ears caught the paralyzing sound of someone pounding up the front steps and inserting a key into the door, trapping us upstairs.
“There’s something I forgot to mention. My husband is a congressman.”
Look for Mrs. Robinson Part II
Coming soon
