The Complete Story of Vincent Hancock

by K Westlake

  Who was I to argue really, she was the client and my job was to do everything in my power to keep my client happy. I removed my regular clothes and put my uniform on; I was not too keen on the clothes provided and believed that Ellen had erred with many of my measurements. I had little time to sulk but I would make Ellen aware of her failure with my attire in my own diplomatic way.

  *

  Ellen appeared on the tennis court wearing the sauciest of uniforms that I had ever believed possible in that particular game. Her jet black hair was in a practical pony tail and it was the only part of her clothing that was worn with a true nod to the practicalities of playing the game. Although she wore the crop top and tennis skirt, her reasons for wearing such items of clothing were designed purely to accentuate her athletic form. The tight Lycra of her top forced her breasts to become the focus of attention. Her short tennis skirt was an instant eye opener; it had more than a passing nod to the classic poster that hung proudly on many an adolescent boy’s wall during their youth. Ellen delighted in swinging her hips as she walked and showed brief flashes of her butt cheeks: I was fairly certain that there was no underwear to protect her modesty.

  Ellen looked on at my own tennis attire approvingly, my black hair was held in place with a rather unfashionable 1980s style head band. And the shorts that she selected were tight and restrictive; she planned to put my own lunch box and backside on display for as many of her fellow guests as possible. I wondered what I despised more, was it the uniform that I had been entombed in or the game that my client wished me to play. Never the less, my client wished for us to do this; so as a good employee I happily obliged her whims. My prowess on the tennis court was hardly legendary and while I could return the ball; I was highly unlikely to make any great waves on the professional tour circuit. Ellen was a competent player and we settled into a game where either of us could defeat the other. I decided to be less competitive than I usually was at sports, I doubted that Ellen wished to be hit by high speed serves and testosterone filled returns. Despite our laid back approach to the game, we still managed to perspire and breathe heavy through our exercise. On more than one occasion Ellen hitched her short skirt up to reveal the well tanned buttocks that lay beneath her Tennis skirt. It was cheeky and it did make me wonder what the cunning vixen had in mind after the match.

  Ellen called for a drinks break and complimented me on my ability. I was not sure if she was serious as I thought my game was mediocre at best. Despite my reluctance to play, I must admit I had enjoyed parts of the game. The hitching of Ellen’s skirt and the jiggling of her breasts as she returned the ball were quite a pleasant distraction.

  “Do you want to play one more game, Vincent?” Ellen splashed the cold water onto her face as she asked my preference. I did not reply straight away as I noticed that the iced water made Ellen’s nipples stand to attention and her breasts became very noticeable through her wet Lycra top. I spurred myself to answer her initial question whilst continuing to map the newly uncovered form of my client.

  “I am happy to do whatever you wish Ellen.”

  Ellen looked at my tight shorts and gave me a satisfied smile. “That is just what I wanted to hear Vincent. I have an idea, but you will have to bring your friend down there with you!”

  I laughed and replied with a similar humour. “That is acceptable to us both, please lead the way!”

  *

  Ellen took me by the hand and led me to the old stable block of the Hotel; it was deserted and would prove a fitting location for Ellen’s plans. I looked around the creaky out buildings and wondered if this was a suitable location.

  “Isn’t this area off limits, Ellen?”

  With a playful giggle Ellen replied. “Yes the area is off limits, but don’t worry; my family owns the whole complex and I can do whatever I want.”

  I moved closer to Ellen with purpose. “So we will be left all alone here?”

  “Indeed we will; that is exactly how I planned it!” Ellen reached up to kiss me with her slim yet hungry lips. I responded with equal pressure and allowed my arms to feel their way around her back. I was rewarded with a gentle moan and took this as a cue to take control of this situation.

  Ellen’s tongue warmly massaged my own and I could feel her small hands map my own figure with a fearless certainty. She soon rested her hands on my buttocks and purred her approval. My hands mirrored her movements and rested on the flimsy fabric of her Tennis skirt.

  “Mr. Hancock you look quite ridiculous in your outfit!” Ellen laughed and removed her Tennis skirt with a casual movement of her left hand.

  I took in the semi-naked form of Ellen and enjoyed the narrow line of public hair that had been meticulously trimmed in the centre of her mound.

  “Is my attire not fitting for the Tennis court?” I teased my client and she giggled like an innocent school girl.

  With quick movement Ellen dropped to her knees and removed my shorts. She looked up at me with hungry eyes and replied. “Those shorts were only fitting for my amusement. Forgive me Vincent it was terribly cruel of me wasn’t it?”

  My response was muted by Ellen’s mouth taking in my extremely aroused cock, with enthusiasm Ellen swallowed as much as she could. I choose not to comment as Ellen went to work on what seemed like her most favourite of toys. Ellen looked up at me and winked, before she allowed my member to slide out of her mouth. “Hmm, that is a nice cock. But I am sure that I am paying you to entertain me and not vice versa.

  “What can I do to entertain you, Ellen?” I was sure where the question would lead but her response surprised me.

  “Honey, my nipples need some dedicated attention. This sports top excites them with every spark of friction. I am sure your tongue can sooth my aching nipples. That is of course, if you wish too?” Ellen looked at me with eyes that pleaded a positive response. How could I ever say no to her with a face like that?

  I released Ellen’s ample chest from their restrictive prison and took both nipples in my mouth at once. It was a gift that I had learnt in my late teens and it only worked on woman of certain physical proportions. The response from Ellen was instant and her moans drove me to greater levels of suction and nibbling. Ellen’s nipples stood to attention and I rolled them around my mouth as much as I was able, she appreciated my efforts and began to heave her chest through her own exhilaration. Ellen pulled her chest away and gave me a huge and passionate kiss; as I held her I could feel her excitement evident with her increased heart rate. She moved her delicate mouth up to my ear and whispered into it softly.

  “I need you deep inside me now, is that cool?”

  I was never going to say no, I was more than ready to satisfy her base urges; to refuse her now would have been nothing less than cruel.

  I turned Ellen around and instructed her to use the old stable doors as support, with a limited amount of fuss; I was able to set her up to be entered from the rear. As I angled myself to enter her, I felt the slickness of her warm and excited pussy. She was well lubricated and more than ready to accept my own powerful cock. I rested my tip against her entrance and felt Ellen react to the sensations that her engorged sex was communicating to her brain. The tension filled her and I could feel her braced for my welcome intrusion into her moist honey pot. The temptation to plow into her with all my might was a tempting proposition but I was here for her benefit and she would need time to get used to my size. I gently nudged myself into her with great care and tenderness. Every increase in my invasion drew a gasp of expectation and untamed enjoyment. We worked together to build a rhythm which was both satisfying and electric. Every thrust into Ellen saw the toned muscles of her forearms take the recoil of her body, had I ploughed into her without cause; she would have fallen flat on her face with my efforts.

  Ellen bent over the stable door and used her left hand for support, her right hand now rested on her clit which was in need of further stimulation. Ellen showed great strength in resting our combined weight on her left arm, she moaned as she e
xcited her most sensitive of areas. Her efforts had an instant effect as I felt her squirt over my cock which was pounding her wet pussy with all that it could. Ellen started to orgasm and she moved her hand to my slickly covered balls. She was impressed with their size and was eager for more from me.

  “You going to shoot your cum deep into my pussy, baby?”

  I felt my own orgasm building and replied with enthusiasm. “Is that what you want from me?”

  Ellen smiled as she continued to receive my powerful erection. “Hell baby, you know that I do!”

  I increased my pace and felt Ellen caress my balls with tenderness. It was a sure fire way to make me cum hard and Ellen had mastered holding her own balance and was paying great attention to my needs. Ellen was desperate for my release; her own orgasms needed my fluids to tip her over the edge. I felt her pussy squeeze me for all she had and her screams urged me to fill every inch of her. I ceased trying to fight the release and allowed myself to attack her inviting hole with every ounce of strength I had at my disposal. My ejaculation burst inside Ellen’s body like a shotgun, two major jets of my semen bounced off her cervix and I was rewarded with cries of relief from Ellen. My own body was alive to my release, the rush of endorphins and adrenalin went straight to my brain; giddiness took over me and I almost failed to catch Ellen as she dropped off my cock. Ellen turned and kissed me hard, she was sated yet promised more with her insistent touch.

  Further adventures were cut short by the arrival of voices that chilled Ellen to the core, the sound from outside was loud but inaudible due to the construction of the out buildings. Ellen looked at me with fear in her eyes. “Get your clothes on and run for your life!”

  Her behaviour confused and startled me. “What’s going on Ellen?”

  “Just get dressed and leave, this is very dangerous for us both!” Ellen had tears in her eyes and I thought the worse. She grabbed my clothes and threw them towards me with great haste.

  “Is it your husband?” the question was an obvious one, so I needed to ask as I changed back into my sports attire.

  Ellen choked back her tears and replied sharply. “No, much worse, it is my ultra-conservative father!”

  I heard the sound of a shotgun being fired close-by and feared the worse. I asked Ellen in all seriousness. “Should I be really worried?”

  “Yes, yes you should Vincent!” Ellen was almost fully clothed and she searched for her missing trainers desperately. “There is a phone box straight through the woodland, you will have to run quick and don’t stop until you are off the Hotel grounds!”

  I fixed my bottom half and made sure that my tennis shoes were laced, as I looked up the form of an angry gamekeeper entered the room. Ellen reacted quickly and implored her father. “No don’t! This is not what it looks like!”

  Her father did not accept her words and aimed his shotgun at my stunned form. “I will kill you. How dare you place your filthy hands on my Princess?”

  His question was never going to receive an answer from me; I moved as quickly as I was able and bolted out of the other door. I heard the sound of a shotgun being fired and continued to run whilst I was still able. I felt a scattering of heat around the back of my escaping form and I was fortunate that the tiny pellets avoided injury to my exposed back. I could hear the shouts and screams of a warring family. If I had not just escaped the firing of a shotgun, I would have gone back to sort the issue out but at the time my adrenalin wanted me to put as much distance between the father and the daughter!

  *

  Valerie laughed at my story and her expression was one of disbelief. “Did that really happen to you, Vincent?”

  “Do you think I would make that up?” my response was one that was still haunted by that memory. “I served this country for as long as I was able and in that time I had never felt so scared as I did that day!”

  Valerie raised her hand in apology but still felt there was more than she could glean from my tale. “What happened to you next?”

  I laughed, it was the only option left open to me. “Well, we have a back up to these events and we call it the Recovery Program!”

  “You have a fail-safe called the Recovery Program? What does that mean exactly?” Valerie found it amusing and maybe she forgot that a human life was at risk.

  “The Recovery Program is a free phone number which sends out a chauffeur to chaperone us back to our homes with as much care as they can!” As soon as I mentioned the program, I knew that Valerie would like to know more about the protocol.

  Valerie made an expression and used her hand to signal that she required more. “Ah come on Vincent, there is more you can tell me!”

  She was of course right, I could tell her more and it would not make much difference to my updated Recovery Program. The truth was I didn’t really want to dwell upon that assignment but I knew that Valerie wanted this system explained and she would not let it rest. I finally decided to share with Valerie what happened after I left the stable whilst under fire. I explained to Valerie what exactly happened after I bolted from the stable wearing nothing but a stupid headband and my far too tight tennis shorts.

  My escape took me through dense woodland and I felt the sharp points of the tree’s slash across my exposed torso. I knew I couldn’t look back as I had to hit the main road, as soon as I was off the property; her father had less legality to fire in my direction. I hoped that her father lacked hired muscle; my thoughts were full of what could be. I dreaded the prospect of breaking through the tree line, only to be beaten by hired goons and being transported back on to Ellen’s family estate. I disliked the thought of being shot by an angry father, especially as I knew his aim would be painfully specific on me.

  I managed to break through the tree line and found myself on the main road, Ellen’s directions were correct and I knew that I needed to find a public payphone. Fortunately I noted one as I came into the complex, it would be a risk but I was sure that the angry father would expect me to run until my adrenalin dissipated. I had quickly adapted my recovery plan; I would phone my individual free phone number and then meet my recovery team at a pre-arranged location. I would not be reentering the Hotel complex as it was too high a risk. I had lost my wallet and my clothing. Fortunately I never carried any personal identification on assignment. My wallet carried a company credit card which would be cancelled as soon as I notified the Agency. I was not going to risk my health for whatever cash I had left in my wallet or my second favourite designer suit.

  I reached the pay phone and felt uneasy; it was a location that Ellen’s father would look at first if he wished to seek to further payback on my transgressions. I moved cautiously and dialed my number into the key pad, the phone took an age to connect and my nervousness grew; every car that sped by my position could have been a potential threat. Finally the automated service kicked in and I was able to request help from a human operator. The voice I heard on the other end of the line reassured me greatly, they would send a car from the nearest depot and guarantee my survival. I had heard stories of crack teams of former Special Forces been sent to rescue an unfortunate escort, but I believed these to be grossly exaggerated works of fiction by my colleagues. Never the less, I was grateful for the return of my modest contribution to the protection fund. In future I might have no further need of it but it is always good to know that I have the insurance as a backup. My getaway driver arrived within an hour at the pre-arranged extraction site, I was so grateful for the arrival of the Jeep Cherokee and the fact that they brought a change of clothes buoyed my spirits immensely. I learnt a valuable lesson in how to do things and now I steer clear of those clients that are after an adrenalin rush; it seemed those who seek that high drag their unwitting partner into the action!

  *

  Chapter Four: Back to Nature.

  I was shocked that Valerie wanted to meet at a weekend, we usually only met up during the week. Fortunately I was on a weekend off due to a long held arrangement to watch a Football match. So meeting
Valerie on the Sunday was not going to be a problem. She suggested that we meet at the reservoir as it was the midway point between the two of us. I liked the idea of the natural world, especially after a naughty day of fast-food and beer. I drove to the rendezvous and found that Valerie was already there waiting for me. A friend had given her a lift and she stood waiting outside one of those poorly maintained toilets that were mandatory at every scenic point of natural beauty in the British Isles. Valerie wore a summer dress that finally advertised her figure and it was in keeping with the scorching heat of the bright day. I suggested to her that we should take a nice stroll around the stunningly picturesque reservoir. Valerie agreed readily and let slip that she was an avid rambler, apparently her parents had instilled a love of the great outdoors in her throughout her adolescent years.

  We walked around the north bank of the reservoir, dodging weekend cyclists and dogs enjoying the freedom of the wild. I had always loved dogs and happily fussed over any dog which came to say hello. Valerie also doted on our four-legged guests and she was obviously an animal lover. We talked on our shared love of the natural world and avoided talk of my profession until Valerie changed the subject unexpectedly.

  "So Vincent, do you operate exclusively in the United Kingdom?" Valerie’s words were not up to her usual level of directness and I felt I had to seek clarification. "Did you mean to ask, do I prostitute myself to residents of the British Isles or do I only operate in a small area of the United Kingdom?"