A Wind Blew Through Me

Chapter 16 - Katherine

Neither of us moved a muscle for a long time after I exhaled the last gasp of my orgasm. Amy laid atop me, head on my chest, arms around me, and hips still straddling me. I focused on the feeling of her breath pushing into me and slowed my own to match hers. We breathed in unison for a long time as I tried to make sense of how I felt.

I did not know it was possible to feel so close to someone. Her body felt like an extension of my own. Trust was a new well of entanglement I felt toward her, adding to gratitude, respect and awe. I guess I still did not know where this was going, but I knew there was no coming back from the place we were now. Come what may, this woman was a part of me.

She finally pushed her head up to look at me, chin resting on my chest. She wore a potent mix of satisfaction and melancholy on her face.

She took a deep breath and said to me softly, "As much as I cannot stand the thought of being someone's possession, you have pried out a piece of me. I do my best to hide behind sarcasm and experience, but that was... not normal. I really do not know how we ended up here, feeling like this, but here we are."

She paused and looked at me, sorrow in her eyes but peace on her lips. "I've had a lot of sex with a lot of people. That was more than sex, Greg. I felt you give yourself to me. And I wanted to give myself to you."

"I felt that too, Amy. I've never felt so uncomfortably close to anybody. You've invaded the deepest parts of me. I'm afraid you're going to break me, before this is all said and done, but come what may, my heart is open to you."

A tinge of shame had begun to spread across her face when I said her name. It was surprising, distracting even. I had never seen her ashamed of anything. By the time I finished, she was looking down at my chest.

Still looking down, she spoke with a disquieting lilt, "I would be surprised if you haven't already wondered at this..." she brought her eyes up to mine with great effort, "...but I feel like this is the right time to tell you. Amy is an alias. Amy is my persona. Most people in my life know me as Amy. But I am not Amy. Not really."

She was looking into my eyes, vulnerable discomfort on her face. "My name is Katherine."

Katherine. Holy shit. That was going to take some getting used to. Amy had been the constant refrain of my mind for... days I guess. But yeah, I had wondered that. I knew many sex workers used aliases. And this did seem like the right moment to correct me. Maybe before tonight I had only seen glimpses of Katherine. That moment I made her cry in my apartment. The movie on the jet. I couldn't know. But I was certain that it was Katherine looking back at me now, naked on my chest.

I looked at her with gratitude. I knew it was not easy for her to be vulnerable. "I'm pleased to meet you at last, Katherine."

She smiled at me and pulled herself forward to kiss me. I felt Katherine kiss me for the first time. There was quite a lot of Amy on those lips, but I felt something new as well. Something deeper.

She broke the kiss and looked back at me, a question growing in my mind. "So... what do I call you when we are in public? Katherine? Amy? Kate? Katie?"

Her face bunched up in progressive discomfort with each listed option, clearly wishing me to be done with guessing.

"To you, I am Katherine. Unless there is a reason I need to be Amy, and in that case I will find a way to tell you in the moment. I'm already Amy to the staff at the hotel, so there you go. I do not share my name lightly. And I don't want it shortened."

Katherine. Somehow, being in on the secret of her hidden name made her even sexier.

She let that settle for a while, but eventually continued in response to my original statement, "I'm afraid I might break you too, Greg. And I am loathe to admit you could break me. I'm not an easy person to be close to. I don't think most people are capable of giving me the space I need to be who I am."

That's where the melancholy came from. She is afraid to be close to anyone, not just because she is tired of being hurt, but because she hates hurting others with the things about herself she cannot change. We were both so lonely, for our own reasons.

She continued, "...but I think there's a good chance you're not most people. It actually seems like you are more than a little into the things in me that usually push people away. I don't know if that's because there's something fucked up with you..."

She looked at me with a teasing smile, "...or if it's because you just happen to be exactly what I need."

Now it was a sweet smile. A genuine expression of gratitude. A tear ran down her cheek and I brushed it away gently.

"What do you mean by that?" I asked her gently. I had my suspicions, but I wanted to hear her say them.

"Well..." she started, a mix of hesitant and pensive. "...one of the simplest things is my job. Specifically, that I have sex with people and they pay me for it. I don't do that because somebody forced me to, or because I feel like I have to. Most people assume a lot of untrue things about me with nothing more than that information. I do it because I like it, for the most part, the sex most of all."

I felt myself getting a little hard again as she talked about it. She was right, I was into this about her.

"...and that bothers a lot of people too. The fact that I've had sex with hundreds of people and I don't feel the least bit bad about it. I just... don't understand what there is to feel bad about. I enjoyed most of them, on some level at least, and it's not like I am hurting them. I could not be more clear about the boundaries of these relationships, and all parties enter them with their eyes open."

I could see how this would get under the skin of a lot of people, but that was definitely not me. I found this fascinating, not repulsive.

"The money part of it brings out a whole other set of fucked up reactions from people. There's a very sizable portion of people, men and women, who have an instinctively misogynistic reaction to the idea of attaching money to sexuality. A dead whore is the punchline of a joke, not the remains of a human being."

That one just made me angry. Like, what the fuck is wrong with people. But I knew she was right.

"And then there's my own personality defects, underneath all that, to push the people that can understand what I do for a living away too. It seems like most people want to feel like they belong to someone, and I guess I just missed that gene. It's not that I don't want to be loved or understood by someone. It's that even if a person loves and understands me, that doesn't mean they own me or have a monopoly on my attention or sexuality. In fact, in order for someone to really understand me, I need them to understand this about me."

She looked at me with a raw vulnerability, almost begging me with her eyes to understand. "A simpler way to say it is I just don't get jealousy, in the romantic sense anyway. I bristle when someone is jealous for me, and I am simply incapable of feeling jealous toward anyone else. I have been in relationships where the person finds both of those traits incomprehensible. They think I'm lying or that I don't care about them. But I'm not, and I do. I'm just..."

She trailed off, slipping for a moment into some pain buried deep in her memory.

"Different." I finished for her. She looked back at me, surprised.

"Something like that. I've certainly been called a lot worse." She looked back down, I could feel the sorrow rushing up to meet her.

"Thank you for telling me all that, A..." she looked at me and smirked. "Shit, sorry. Katherine. That might take me a few hours to get used to..."

"A few hours of today is roughly equivalent to a week in normal time." She said simply.

I'm glad she felt it too. Today had stretched on like a month. I had no idea how late it was here, but it was beginning to seem like sleeping might be a good idea soon.

"Anyway, thank you. I know it is not easy to say some of those things or re-live some of the memories behind them. But I really appreciate understanding you better. I want to know more, because I find you fascinating, but I don't want to make you feel like you have to share even more at the end of this unbelievably long day." I guess I was trying to give her space if she needed it. It sounded pretty fucking stupid coming out of my mouth though.

She looked back at me with faint amusement. "Perhaps you could share your own thoughts in response... I do believe that is what people call a conversation?"

I laughed and rolled my eyes at myself.

"Yeah... I might have a tendency to overthink things. I think I'm a little out of my depth here, to be honest. I've never known a sex worker of any kind. Your whole world is new to me. But the idea of it does not bother me in any way I can think of. I don't think my feelings would be hurt if you had to run out right now to see a client. A lot of times I think sex, just like relationships in general, is very transactional. Even if the transaction isn't monetary."

She was listening intently, so I continued. "So attaching a value to it and selling it seems like a very normal human behavior. It allows you to make use of your strengths to support yourself, just like anybody else."

"You do realize that is not a popular opinion?" she asked.

"Yeah well... I never was very popular. I guess I'm trying to say you being an escort doesn't bother me. I would not have been opposed to making use of your services as a client, had we met under different circumstances. I'm certain you are worth every penny."

"I don't think you can afford me, Greg." She said, smiling playfully.

"Yeah, but that's the thing, isn't it? Since the moment you leaned across that table and took a chance with me, our relationship has never been transactional. You asked me for 3 orgasms, and I delivered. I asked you to be my friend for an afternoon, and you decided to bring me on this crazy trip. Before dinner, you sucked me off in the shower without a second thought. We do things for each other, but it's almost never been 'fair'. I want to make you cum 3 times before I do. You have no compunctions about sucking my dick dry and moving on like it is a normal part of life."

"Yeah, I know what you mean." She said. "I feel very safe with you, as a lover. I don't worry that you will leave me unsatisfied when I need you. And I am more than happy to satisfy you, even if all I get from it is a mouthful of cum. I trust that I can give myself to you and you can make me forget my name. When we communicate, it is to pursue a deeper level of satisfaction, not to ensure a basic level of enjoyment."

"I feel the same way, Katherine." I looked at her with gratitude in my heart. "You do a great job of communicating when you need something from me, but it also seems like you find satisfaction in surrendering to my desires as well."

"I do." She said simply. "I love to feel your desperation for me. I loved when you pulled me up by my hair and demanded to take me right then and there. The way you looked at me when you said it... it made me swoon, which sounds stupid, but it's true. I think that was my favorite time with you so far. Not just because you took me forcefully, decisively, but because when you had me under you, getting what you wanted from my body, you were still thinking about satisfying my needs. I want to be taken like that, even if that's all you did and you just came inside me over that desk, it would have been a satisfying fuck. But it says a lot about who you are that you dominated me and pleased me in the same act."

I looked back at her, amazed. There hadn't been a lot of conscious thought in that moment, mostly just a direct conduit between raw instinct and action. "I wanted to dominate you because my lust was so overwhelming. I wanted to penetrate you in exactly the way I had been imagining it in my head since that moment I looked up at you across the table and I found I could not keep my eyes from you. I wanted to take you over the dinner table, and by the time I made myself wait to get back to the room, I could not stand the thought of doing anything other than fucking you from behind, still fully clothed."

She was staring back at me intently. I could see her arousal beginning to return as I explained myself. I continued, "And it felt so indescribably good to take you like that. It was sexually satisfying, to be sure, your pussy felt as good as I had been imaging it welcoming my cock. But it was mentally and emotionally satisfying as well, you bent over that desk in submission, your skirts gathered up in my fist, and the feeling of your excitement under me, begging me for more. So I used my free hand to please you, and your response was more satisfying than the sexual pleasure of it. It felt like you melted under me, unable to control your body because you were overwhelmed with pleasure. That moment felt like perfect dominance."

She was definitely aroused now. I could feel her heart beating stronger against me. She had to clear her throat gently before responding, "I could see the desperate lust in your eyes when you pulled me up. I was very aroused also, but I was the kind of aroused where I just wanted to be fucked. You were the kind of aroused where you had to fuck me. So I surrendered myself to you, abandoning all control. It felt wonderful to be under your control, to be the object of your intense desire, to just spread my legs and welcome you, come what may. And what came was intensely pleasurable. I lost control of my body as I surrendered to you taking care of me."

She leaned in and kissed me deeply. The kind of kiss that longs for more. Recounting our experiences with each other had triggered something even deeper between us. I knew I wanted to fuck her again, and I could feel my cock throbbing as she kissed me. I knew from the look in her eyes as she spoke that she needed to be fucked again tonight. I was about to roll her over and take her again when she pulled her lips slowly from mine, her eyes still closed as she said softly, "I want to give myself to you in a new way now."

My heart was pounding in my throat. I could not think straight. I wiggled my hips around, trying to find her pussy again with my throbbing cock as she still straddled my hips. It was instinct at this point, I just wanted to have her. She caught my cock in herself and sat up on top of me, sliding me into her cunt again. We both moaned loudly, but she made no further move and just looked down at me, her hair falling in sweat-tinged tangles down her chest, obscuring parts of her breasts.

"I said a new way, you naughty boy..." she looked at me with disapproval as she held my cock hostage deep inside herself. "But I need a few minutes to prepare."

She looked down at me mischievously for a few moments as I wondered what the fuck she was talking about. She pulled herself up, breaking our union, and got off the bed. It was very hard to watch her go, but I was intrigued in a deeply sexual way.

"You hang tight out here and do your best to stay hard without me..." She looked back playfully as she grabbed one of her smaller bags from the pile of her luggage and disappeared into the bathroom, closing the door behind her.

It was so quiet without her, I could not help but listen intently to the mystery unfolding in the bathroom. I heard water turn on and run for a while. I heard the faint snap of elastic against skin. I heard a faint moan. What the fuck was she doing in there? I don't know how long she was in there, but it was not challenging to stay hard for her. Her mysterious noises were enough to keep me engaged.

Finally, the door swung open. She stood in the doorway, now in a red bra and stockings held aloft by a matching garter. The bra was beautiful, revealing as much as it covered, the straps splitting into three cords across each shoulder and weaving into an intricate pattern across her back. She had not bothered with any sort of panties. She spun around in the doorway before gradually walking out toward me. I was transfixed with her, my eyes trying to take in every inch of her body. She stopped a few feet short of the bed and turned around, spread her legs a few feet apart, and slowly bent over toward the floor.

At first, my eyes were glued to her magnificent ass, only a few feet away from my face, but as she rotated her pelvis, my eyes shot with surprise to something new. The base of a pink silicone butt plug was extending from her asshole. My heart thudded with concussive force as she drew herself up to standing, turned around, and took a few more steps toward me.

She set a small object on the bedside table as she reached the bed: a bottle of lube. She looked down at me now, gently running her hand up the length of my cock and smiled with a pleased look on her face.

"It's probably better if we do this on the floor." She said simply, taking my hand and pulling gently. I sat up, ready to obey any command. She turned to grab something as I stood up, bending over again and giving me a wonderful view. It was one of the towels we used for the shower earlier. She draped it onto an open space on the floor and looked back up at me.

"Lie down on it." She gestured to the towel. I obeyed.

She straddled me with her legs, now giving me a full view of her pussy and the butt plug behind it. She slowly dropped to her knees, then sat down on my hips, my cock grazing her ass as she sat.

"As we were talking earlier, about giving ourselves to each other, my asshole started tingling. You've fucked my pussy and my mouth so well. Now I want you to fuck me in the ass."

Oh my god. Of all the insanity that had transpired today, having Katherine ask me to fuck her ass was still shocking... and arousing.

"Would you like to fuck my ass, Greg?" she asked, now rubbing my cock against her ass cheeks.

"I want to fuck you in the ass, Katherine." She moaned as I said her name, then reached up and grabbed the bottle of lube. She pushed herself up and shifted her hips back. Now my cock was in front of her, and she drenched it in lube. She rubbed it around and then added more. Finally, she drew herself up again and shifted her hips forward, reaching back with her free hand to the butt plug. She pulled it out gently until it popped out, a few drops of liquid dripping from her bare asshole.

The butt plug was pretty large. About the circumference of my dick. She set it down on the towel and re-positioned herself for the act.

When the tip of my cock was resting excitedly against her asshole, both of our parts glistening with lube, she paused and looked down at me again. Her face was as horny as it was happy as she said to me, "I love you, Greg. I want to give every part of myself to you." She began pushing her hips into me, the tip of my cock now opening her asshole. "I want to feel you in my ass before this day is over."

She slowly pushed herself onto my cock. She moaned as I felt the tip pop inside her. It was a little like her pussy; warm and tight, but where her pussy welcomed me in, I could feel her ass pushing back against me. She slipped the tip of me in and out a few times, and I could feel her loosen up with each advance.

Then she pushed me deeper. She kept pushing slowly until her ass rested against my pelvis. She sat there, eyes closed, breathing deeply for a long moment. I could feel the tension in her asshole release gradually as she relaxed around my penetration.

She looked at me and smiled, my cock now buried in her ass. "Do you like it?" she asked simply.

"I love it." I said hoarsely and pushed my hips against her. We both moaned.

"Are you ready for me to fuck you?" She asked.

"Yes..." I breathed. She let me slide out of her ass and then pushed it back in, still slowly, but getting faster. It was the going in that got to me. Pushing against all that resistance, but the feeling of her welcoming me anyway. It felt amazing, and it was satisfying.