Glorias Daughter Ch 02

This is the middle installment of a three-part novella. It picks up right where the first part left off, which may make it a bit hard to follow for those who haven't read chapter 1. As a recap: Our narrator is Dennis, a three-times-a-month regular to forty-ish prostitute Gloria, who works out of the renovated garage of her house. When he accidentally met Gloria's college-age daughter, who hates her mom's occupation, he became smitten with the younger redhead's looks and verve, and asked Gloria to role-play as the girl. While pretending to be her daughter, Gloria implied much deeper emotions for Dennis than their business relationship would suggest ...

*****

Summer carried on and disappeared. If Gloria had any trouble replacing Harry the Guy With the Belt, she didn't tell me. But either she'd figured out a way to make up the income, or she'd simply decided not to worry about it, because she glowed brighter every time we saw each other. One Monday evening in late September, as I lay in bed with her, sheets pulled up to our waists, I gave in to temptation and let myself inch toward the forbidden subject.

"You seem a lot happier lately."

Her fingers tickled idly at my chest, still damp from our exertions of a few minutes before.

"Well I would be, wouldn't I?" she asked. "With the Morality Patrol gone back to school."

"You've stopped smoking again, too. Or at least on days when I'm going to show up."

Shifting a little, she teased one of my nipples with her teeth.

"Totally your perversion's fault, mister."

"Oh? How so?"

"I can't smoke if I'm going to play 'Brandy' for you. She hates cigarettes." Her face came back up next to mine, close enough to see the blush I felt rising through my cheeks.

"I haven't asked you

that

many times." But it was true that the only role-playing we'd gotten up to lately involved her pretending to be her daughter. "And anyway, I never insisted on perfect realism."

Her leg, bare and soft and smooth, slid up mine, bringing the knee across my thigh, then onto my other thigh, and then higher still until her crotch snugged up against my hip and her leg completely spanned my groin.

"I guess I'm just too much of a professional," she said, her tone thick like the heat of a summer day after rain. "If I don't force myself to keep up my standards, who will?"

"Hmm." The caress of her inner thigh across my cock brought a predictable response, even though our first screw of the evening had finished up just a few minutes before. "That doesn't feel like what you're trying to keep up is standards."

She laughed and ground her vulva against me, giving the flesh over my hip a moist kiss with it. "Should I dial things back and let us keep talking for a bit?"

"How about if you dial it up and let us keep talking until things get too hot and heavy for conversation."

"I like that." Working her hips, she used her leg's soft inner surface to encourage my hard-on while simultaneously wetting my upper thigh with slick strokes of her bare, aroused pussy. One index finger moved in circles around my right nipple. "What are we going to talk about while I'm dialing?"

"You still haven't told me why you've been in so much better a mood the last few weeks."

"Well then obviously -" She rolled up onto me, lowering the leg from my crotch to give her hand access, sliding her knee down between mine, and settling her steamy pubic juncture firmly against my thigh. Her chest came diagonally up across me, her left hand grasping and stroking my erection, right hand sneaking in between my neck and the pillow. "- that's because I don't

want

to tell you."

I pretended to pout, but it turned into a tremor and an "ooh," instead as she swiveled her grip about my shaft and began damply humping my leg.

"Is it a, uh ... is it a ... nh, oh ... nice ... what was I saying?"

She scraped my chin with her teeth, licked along my jaw, whispered into my ear. "You were about to ask if it was a secret. And yes, it is."

Damn, she's good.

My brain was thinking it about her brain, my cock was thinking it about her hand, and my leg was thinking it about the dripping wet slit gliding up and down my thigh.

"How'd you know that's what I was about to ask?"

Her blue eyes bored into mine as her palm swirled the knob of my penis, squeezing out a bead of thick, lubricating fluid.

"Because we both know you've been tiptoeing around asking it for the last several Mondays, and we both know you're a bad boy for doing it, no matter how sweetly and innocently you finally managed to put it." Her smile kept me from being too speared by that. She was right. All summer, ever since she'd slipped and said more than she should have, I watched the stress leave her face, the light brighten in her eyes, the strength fill up her laugh. And all summer I had wanted to say something about it, and all summer I had felt her feeling me wanting to say something.

"Sorry. I know it's off-limits to - well, just sorry. I couldn't help myself. You're always beautiful, but it's just been shining through lately. How am I supposed to keep my mouth shut about that?"

Her smile deepened and she kissed me lightly. "All you have to do is say it so it's not a question. Just say, 'It's nice to see you so happy.'"

The caress and stroke of her hand continued, but had a hard time competing with that smile and the look in those eyes.

"It's nice to see you so happy, Gloria. Really nice."

"See how easy that was? Now say, 'You know what else would be nice?'"

"You know what else would be nice?"

Her eyebrows rose inquisitively. Her hand gave a couple of firm, questioning jerks on my cock. "No, I have no idea. Why don't you tell me something?"

Vixen

, I thought.

Okay, then.

"What else would be nice would be for you to sit on my face and suck a giant load of cum from my cock while I kiss you between your legs until you scream."

She laughed. "But I thought we were supposed to be talking until things heated up too much. And -" Her hips worked more forcefully. "- your thigh and I are having so much fun."

"Like I don't know you well enough to know you can talk around a hard-on," I said, pushing up with my leg to meet her. "And I can certainly talk between licks."

"Mmm," she said, grinding down closer to my knee. "But your voice will get all ... muffled."

"

Boo

. Puns like that aren't going to make me want to leave your mouth empty."

"Doesn't matter if it's empty." She crawled farther down until her pussy slid up and off my knee and her face neared my groin. "Like you said, I have lots of practice talking with things in my mouth. It's a good way for a person to improve her diction."

"Oh God, you're brutal," I said. "Please go down on me before I lose this erection from the pain. And swap ends so I can deal with some lips that aren't so smart-alecky."

"Okay," she said, grinning and then giving the underside of my glans a lollipop lick. "You've convinced me ... slick talker."

I groaned - then groaned again as she took me quickly all the way into her throat. "Oh, fuck, Gloria."

"Ngud, hmm?" she said around my shaft, eyebrows up and deep blue irises gleaming up at me.

"

Very

good," I breathed. "Come on, get your tail end up here before you make me forget I want to eat you out while you're doing that."

Her hands roamed up my belly and spread across my chest as she suckled root-deep on my cock. Then she curled her fingers and drew all ten fingertips claw-like back toward her, leaving tracks of electrified skin behind them as they went. Rising to hands and knees, but keeping her face firmly down in place, she swung around and deftly straddled my head. The smooth curves and valleys of her pudenda settled to my lips - engorged clitoris nestled in the upper mons, dainty inner labia bordering the dampness of her slit. Our earlier fuck had left her smelling of sex and sweat.

"Mmmgnn," she groaned around my cock as I feathered my tongue lightly around the hood of her clit and then latched on to give her a full, broad-tongued caress. Her lips retreated up my shaft, swirled back down, lifting and lowering at an increasing pace as I probed her labia and crease and finally sealed and sucked and licked to clean as much of the last fuck's leavings out as I could.

Her mouth popped loose from me and she sighed, "Denny ..." before diving back to the base of my shaft.

Sex with Gloria on top never fails to blow my mind, whether she's screwing me or blowing me, whether we're going sixty-nine or even if she's just giving me a hand-job. She has this ability to be fully in control, and yet also completely responsive, so that her search for pleasure never falters in its honesty, but never interferes with her doing just what my body begs her to do to please me. In this case, as she humped my mouth, the hungry rhythmic movements of her pelvis rolled up through her spine to accentuate the bobbing of her head and jaw. Whatever my tongue did to delight her cunt, she took and amplified a thousand times in her sloshing, blissful trips up and down the length of my cock.

"

Hhm, hhm, hhm

..." she panted, tongue rolling down the underside of the dick that filled her mouth. Each whimper matched up to a forward-back tilt of her hips, surfing her clit across the tight-sucked circle of my lips.

"Yesss, Gloria," I said, with a kiss to her throbbing nub. "Yes ..."

The plan to carry on a simultaneous conversation disappeared pretty quickly. Her lips, their pressure and motion, the sweep of their firm, plush flesh up and down my shaft, disabled most of my conscious mind - and the part that wasn't absorbed in pleasure had plenty to do trying to return the favor. We made a humming, moaning circle of delight for a while without any more talk.

"Denny," she said, eventually, letting me loose just long enough to get the word out.

"Uh-huh?" I asked, doing the same with her pussy. For a minute, we both concentrated on mouthing one another's sex organs, and while we both made sounds, none of them came out remotely intelligible.

Then she raised her head. "I want to fuck you."

Her mouth bobbed back down, cheeks sucked tight around my shaft, tongue writhing a serpentine course along the top of my cock. Up and down and up and down she maneuvered her perfect oral talents, each dip a gliding stroke of heaven. With difficulty, I kept my own tongue circling her clit, swiping across it every few turns like crossing a "t," trying futilely to keep up with her.

At last I gasped out, "Are you close?"

"Mm-hm."

Suck. Suck. Suck.

"I had a little one already."

Swirrrllll

. "Oh god, your tongue ..."

Slurp, gulp.

"I just want to ride you for a minute before I hit the big one."

"Uhhh," I groaned as she kept at it. "So close ... I think I'll blow if you sit on me." Kiss, lick, tongue-fuck. "Shit, so good, I don't know what to do ..."

She lip-nibbled all the way up and off my rod. "

That

," she said as I drew her swollen bulb in through my lips. Her hand gripped the base of my cock as her spit air-dried on it. "That, about three more times ..."

Once, twice, thrice I did as she asked.

"Oh

fuck

, Denny -" She rolled off my face and in almost a single motion swept her hips around, straddled me, and enveloped the full length of my erection in her hungry, wet vagina. Grinding us together at our pubic arches, she threw her head back. "

OOHHHHHH-HUAAAHH!!

"

Caught in the wonder of her trembling, orgasmic cunt - staring up at the beautiful tension of her throat, the full round sway of her breasts, and the utter bliss of her lovely, familiar face, I felt my floodgates start to open. It was an instant of perfection with no room for complaint that I was about to come up her vagina instead of down her throat like I'd asked. But in the split-second between the inevitability of climax and its actual start, Gloria exactly reversed the maneuver that had put me root-deep between her legs and got my cock all the way back into her throat. She bottomed out with her lips just as I came.

Clutching at her ass, I grunted helplessly, bestially, and thrust my face up into the dripping crotch that hovered above me. A champagne-bottle fountain of cum burst out of me as if trying to reach the ceiling, captured by Gloria's esophagus instead. The muscles of her throat gulped around the crown of my erupting penis like they might draw every ounce of fluid from my body. Her clit trembled and throbbed between my lips. Both of us groaned over and over, pressing our bodies as hard together as they would go.

"Mmm-mmm ... mm-

hmmm

!"

She collapsed heavily onto me when the last twitch of my cock subsided, keeping it in her mouth even though she had to huff like a train through her nose to get enough breath. Her sweat rolled down my body and her musky sex-gloss coated my lips and chin. I was panting too hard to tell her how good it had been.

Eventually, she pulled her face away and turned herself much less gymnastically to snuggle in beside me.

"Whoosh," she said, her lips now just inches from my ear.

"Yeah." I let my eyes slip closed for a moment as her hand played across my chest.

"Denny?"

"Hmm?" The amount of effort it took to crack one eyelid told me I'd better open them both before I fell asleep. The look in Gloria's eyes made that more than worth it.

"Thank you for letting me be selfish and get you inside me there at the end. I was going to come either way, but it was incredibly better sitting on you."

"Ha. That wasn't exactly my worst experience ever at letting a woman have her way. And then you ended up giving me exactly what I wanted anyhow. It was a pretty happy detour."

She smiled. "I didn't think you'd complain, or I wouldn't have done it. But I'm grateful anyway. You're a blessing."

We held each other for a while then, eventually moving into that proposed conversation - what I'd been doing that week, how she'd been thinking of getting a cat. She remained nestled in the hollow between my left arm and torso. At some point my hand on that side found and fondled her breast casually. Not long after, her right hand did the same with my soft, contented dick. We kept talking, too, as she worked me into full arousal, as I gently rolled her onto her stomach, then eased into place and entered her from behind.

The sex stayed languid, peaceful and tender, never reaching a feverish enough pitch to interfere with our verbal back-and-forth. Neither of us came by the time the quarter-hour warning chime sounded.

"Want me to get you there really quick?" she asked.

I kissed her neck and pulled out, moved off to lie next to her again. "No, I think I'm good."

Rolling onto her side to face me, Gloria smiled and caressed my cheek.

"So," she asked, "Brandy next time?"

A suggestive shimmer in her voice almost made me come all by itself. I rose up onto my left elbow to look at her and try to figure her out. "Look, that sounds really good. But if her being back at school is helping lower your stress levels, I'd rather not remind you ..."

"Stop it. I wouldn't have brought it up if it was going to bother me." She sat up cross-legged, breasts pert and perfect, vagina on unselfconscious display. "Can I tell you something?"

"Sure."

"I think I get off on it as much as you do."

"Seriously?"

"Sure. When we do

this

-" She made a gesture that took in the whole bed and ended with her hand sliding down my abdomen to tickle my pubic hair. "- it doesn't feel naughty to me. I mean, it's if-the-neighbors-only-knew naughty, like everything about my job. But it's not oh-I'm-being-such-a-bad-girl naughty. I got past thrilling over this-is-so-wrong a long time ago. But when I'm being her for you, I get some of that back. And ... I get to say some of the things I wish I could tell certain other clients to their faces. Not you - I never think about you the way Brandy talks."

"Well that's a relief. You promise?"

She ran a finger across her sternum, through the sweet valley between her breasts, then repeated the motion the other direction to make an 'X.'

"Cross my heart."

"Okay, then Brandy next time it is."

With a grin, she said, "Good. Because I have some very wicked ideas about what she might do."

* * *

The next week was a skip week, so I didn't pull through the alley to Gloria's driveway until the week after. Knowing that she had something special planned for our "Brandy" session made the two weeks go even slower than usual, and not for the first time, I questioned the decision I'd made very early on to never go past three visits a month. I chose three as my limit very deliberately, because it would always force me to endure a gap somewhere in the month and prevent my time with Gloria from becoming a week-in, week-out routine.

But there were a lot of months when three just didn't feel like enough, and a lot of months when fourteen days felt like much too long in between

This time, it just about drove me crazy.

It's totally going to be worth it, though

, I kept telling myself.

Just like every time the wait makes you feel like this.

And I was right. As I parked in front of her converted garage and turned off my car's ignition, I had that chest-squeezing, arm-tingling anticipation that you can only get from something marvelous and physical that you've waited much too long for.

Look at me, I'm practically shaking like it's junior year again and Carla Philbert is unzipping my fly for my first blow-job.

At the door, after I knocked, I found myself waiting still longer. Gloria almost always answered her door very promptly - Brandy never did.

Finally, it swung open, and there she was, blinking and looking dazed in a long pink nightshirt that said "Princess" in vertical white letters down the right side of her chest and abdomen. No bra, hair pulled back in a ponytail, a pencil stuck behind one ear and glittery lip-gloss on the gaping round "O" of her mouth.

Then her features tightened into that furious essence of Brandy, fierce and tooth-gritting.

"What the fuck, now you're chasing me down at school?"

At school ...?

Before I could puzzle it out, she grabbed me by the arm and pulled me through the doorway. "Goddamn it, don't just stand there, somebody's going to see you."

With me inside, she poked her head out and looked both ways, then stepped back and slammed the door. The moment gave me a chance to look around, and it was my turn to blink and gape.

The boudoir was gone.

She'd redone the whole place as a dorm room - posters on the walls, textbooks and folders and spirals stacked on every open surface, teen jeans and t-shirts leaking out onto the floor from an overstuffed laundry bin. The bamboo screen that normally hid her computer area had been taken down, the computer and video equipment were removed, and the surface of her desk now held a microwave, several fast-food cups, and more of the ubiquitous notebooks and college texts. Most astonishingly, two twin beds sat where the satin-sheeted king should have been, one primly topped with a Laura Ashley comforter, the other rumpled and unmade, heaped across half its surface with a fluffy duvet in a lime-green cover.

Holy shit, how much did all this stuff cost her?

For a split second, I imagined her buying beds and decorations and textbooks to the tune of more money than I owed her for the session or even for the whole month. Then sense caught up with me. I'd never seen the rest of her house - the beds might have come from a guest room, the rest of the stuff from her daughter's closet. But she'd still done a hell of a lot of work remodeling for a two-hour appointment.