by Clara James
It obviously felt pretty good for him, too. His pupils were dilated, he was gasping heavily and his brow had a few beads of sweat. As he tipped his face to the ceiling, I watched his throat flex as he swallowed.
Running my right hand down the length of his arm, I clasped his fingers between mine and lifted his hand to my mouth. Moistening my lips, I guided two of his fingers over my tongue, closing my mouth around them. When this caused his hips to thrust against mine, I sucked hard on them.
“Arianna,” he whispered, his head thrusting forward. His tongue moved frantically between my breasts, following the curve of one before moving to the center and latching onto the nipple. He gently grazed it with his teeth before tapping it with the tip of his tongue. It grew harder under his attention, painfully so.
“Ahh,” I cried, releasing his hand. Writhing, I rubbed my slick clit against his rigid body. I couldn’t hold back any longer. With a suddenness that surprised even me, I forced my thighs into action, lifting my body, before hurriedly slapping back down. This time, as his dick slid into my wet passage, it seemed to go deeper. “Ugh,” I grunted as my ass slapped against his thighs.
David tried to keep his mouth on my breasts, lapping and sucking as best he could at the moving target.
Needing the leverage, I put my hands back on his shoulder and began to bounce up and down on his thick, stiff shaft. As he buried his face in my cleavage, I wrapped my hands around his head, enjoying the feel of his panted breath against my skin.
My own lungs were expelling air in excited shrieks and squeals. Soon, my legs no longer had the strength to lift me to the top of his penis. Instead, I could only manage feeble shallow thrusts.
David began to help me, his hands guiding my hips and supporting some of my weight. However, his motions had become equally rapid and uncoordinated. As his grunts and my cries rose and combined, he lifted his face to mine.
I peered down at his sweaty expression, my breasts jiggling around so violently that they were slapping against the underside of his chin.
“Ugh, God. You’re so hot,” he panted. “Arianna, you’re...you’re so fucking hot.”
“Ahhh,” I cried, an extra strong jolt against his pubic bone sending waves of orgasm through me.
As my internal muscles spasmed and clamped him, David began to desperately buck beneath me. “Yes,” he groaned. “Ugh, Christ!” His hands tightened at my hips, fingertips digging into the thin flesh.
Aftershocks caused me to jerk and writhe against him for several more seconds, while our pounding hearts began to slow. I could feel his pulse pressed against my right breast and remember marveling, just for a moment, at the fact our hearts seemed to be racing in time with each other.
Eventually, I grew still. My butt falling to his lap and my sex pressed as close to his as I could get. My arms were wrapped tightly around him, unwilling or perhaps unable to let go. His softening shaft was still tucked snugly within me and I was in no hurry to break the spell of calm, comfort and serenity that had descended over the two of us.
“Are you okay?” he softly asked, his hands making lazy patterns up my spine.
With a ridiculous smile on my face, I nodded, knowing he would feel the movement against the side of his face. “I’m good,” I said, my voice thick and weary. “Was it okay for you?” I quickly added, remembering suddenly that I’d been moving to the demands of my own body; chasing an orgasm for myself without the conscious awareness that the only person that mattered was him – the paying customer.
“Are you kiddin’?” he laughed. “God,” he sighed. “That was incredible.”
“Are you sure?” I insisted, releasing my hold of him enough to tip back and look at his face.
“Arianna,” he said, shaking his head with amusement. “I haven’t had an orgasm like that in a long time.”
“Me neither.” The words slipped out before I had a chance to hold them back. “I mean,” I added, wanting to backtrack, but unsure how to without offending him. Giving up the search for something that would make me sound more experienced, I shrugged. “I guess, I mean exactly what I said,” I sighed. “It’s been a long time since I’ve felt like that.”
“You know,” he said, with his lopsided smile. “Coming from any other woman who does what you do, I would think that you were just telling the client what he wants to hear,” he continued. “But I believe you. And I can’t tell you how good that makes me feel.”
“Really?” I asked, cocking my head to one side. The fact that we were still joined, still naked, entwined in each other’s arms didn’t seem in the least bit odd. Instead, talking to him like that felt like the most natural thing in the world. I was more relaxed than I’d been all day, more relaxed than I’d felt for months, maybe even years.
“A woman’s orgasm,” he began, his eyes drifting to a spot on the wall behind me, “is beyond beautiful. It’s beyond sexy. It’s one of those rare special, fleeting moments when life seems to make sense; my life seems to make sense, you know?” he finished, nervously searching my face for understanding.
“Yeah,” I offered quietly, “I guess I do.”
“What are we all here for if it’s not to give and receive pleasure from each other?” he added. “I don’t mean just sex, and I don’t mean seeking pleasure when it’s going to hurt someone else. But those moments that make us feel alive, those are what are precious.”
I nodded silently, ruminating on what he’d said. In a nutshell, he’d summed up the job of an escort. Companionship was a form of pleasure; sexual gratification was quite obviously a source of it, too. The role of an escort was to bring some of those precious experiences to another human being.
I wasn’t naïve enough to believe that all men who hired call girls were as nice or as affectionate as David, but maybe they weren’t all as sex-crazed and selfish as I’d assumed either.
“Anyway,” he said, nudging my thoughts aside. “I guess, I’d better,” he muttered, tilting his head toward his groin, “take that off.”
“Oh, right,” I blurted, suddenly remembering the condom that was still covering him and now filled. “Then, I guess I’d better get up,” I stated obviously, sliding my hands back onto his shoulders, which were clammy with drying sweat, and pushing my lower half off his lap.
His hands remained securely on my waist as I rocked back and placed my feet on the ground. “I...umm,” he grinned, his eyes moving appreciatively up and down my body. “I hope to make you come like that again before the night is out.”
“Huh?” I quizzically muttered, glancing at the digital clock on the bedside. There were another three hours of David’s time with me. Did it make me even more of a whore that I smiled like the Cheshire cat when I realized that?
***
It was almost three in the morning when I eventually got home. I’d ended up staying an extra half an hour with David. It was time I’d assured him he didn’t need to pay for, especially since he’d promised to hire me again next time he was in town. In fact, he’d even suggesting flying me across the country to spend evenings with him elsewhere. With the kids and trying to keep my moonlighting secret, out of state trips would have proven difficult. However, I was certainly keen and said I’d think about it. In any case, he insisted on paying for the additional thirty minutes, and while his hand was in his wallet he grabbed some cash for my cab fare.
By the time I wandered into my kitchen and poured myself a mug of herbal tea, the effects of the alcohol had well and truly worn off. However, I was not as tired as I’d expected to feel. In fact, quite the reverse, I was wide awake. I felt energized, I was on a strange kind of high, the like of which I’d never known.
Never in my wildest dreams had I expected to actually enjoy selling my body. Never had I imagined that a man who pays women for sex, could be a more tender, considerate and affectionate lover than my own husband. David was possibly better in bed than Paul had ever been; sex with him had definitely been better than the last few years with Paul.
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sp; More importantly, I told myself, I had a little over two thousand dollars in my purse. I’d need much more to be completely free of Paul, but it was a great start.
The positive experience with David had renewed my enthusiasm for the idea. Not all clients would be like him, that was obvious. But I’d learned something important about myself; I could do it. I could have sex with a stranger, sex with no real attachment. If I’d done it once, I could do it again. And, there was a chance that there were more David’s out there; more men who wanted an uncomplicated evening, but who still treated women with respect. In fact, the more I thought about it, the more it occurred to me that men who use escorts do view women with respect. It’s men who pick up any girl in a bar, tell her what she wants to hear, then disappears in the morning and spends the next month dodging her calls, who have little or no respect for women.
An escort’s clients are, at least, honest; they’re frank about what they want and they’re willing to pay a fair price for a girl’s time. The more I thought about it, the more I realized it wasn’t anything like as sleazy and degrading as I’d first assumed. Perhaps I was just trying to make myself feel better, because I was now one of those women I’d considered degraded, but I truly believe that my eyes had been opened that night.
And that wasn’t the only thing.
Sex had never been a particular preoccupation of mine. During the first stages of our adult relationship, Paul and I had sex quite frequently and I enjoyed it. I especially liked the fact that it seemed to make him so happy. However, I didn’t ‘get it’. I could not understand why women craved sex, why they would put themselves in dangerous situations to seek it out. It was fine; it was nice, but it wasn’t the earthshaking experience so many people seemed to think.
In the most unexpected of places, my earth had been shaken. I understood it now with a clarity I could never have believed. I had left David completely satisfied, relaxed and happier than I’d felt in months. But in the quiet of my kitchen, the desire was building already. Yes, I wanted the money, I wanted to secure a future for me and the children – those were my prime concerns.
But I’d be lying if I said the thrill of what I’d done hadn’t sparked a sort of addiction. I wanted more sex, uncomplicated sex with no attachments; pure pleasure without hurting anyone else.
To Be Continued…
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Table of Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
