My boyfriend and I have been a couple for just over a year. He was 22 and not long back from Afghanistan when we met. I was 19 at the time. Rashly, I suppose, we started living together only six months later. The fact that I'm the sexiest girl he'd ever met had something to do with that. I'm small, not quite 5'2, but attention-getting curvy. It doesn't hurt, either, that I'm the best fuck imaginable. I know that's crude, and very boastful, but it's true. He's by far the best lover I've ever had, so it has turned out fine.
I work at a small law firm as the legal assistant to the senior partner, Sydney. I don't hide from my boyfriend the sexual banter and the come-on lines I hear, mainly from two of the partners. That's good, I think. It's better he knows. I've mentioned more than once that Sydney has told me, "We could make a fortune promoting your body." Admittedly, I like to talk up my sex appeal. My boyfriend doesn't know what to make of this.
"You mean he wants to pimp for you? That's nuts!"
"I'm not sure what he means."
But I am convinced that old Sydney is fascinated by the vision of me as a nude model and probably as a hooker. He, all too clearly, lusts for me. Unfortunately for him, he's so obese I doubt he can manage a sex act. I'd bet anything he has plenty of fantasies about what my body could be used for. He talks of me selling sex often. I don't take that seriously, or at least I haven't.
I don't claim to have any great intellectual pretentions. I attended what used to be called a secretarial school. I'm pretty much doing what I was trained for. Preparing tedious documents. My chief asset is my sex appeal, and I'm well aware of that. I can't say I'm beautiful, more like pretty, but I do have a stunning body. There's also something chemical, maybe. Guys seem to get that I'm naturally talented sexually. I've always used these gifts to get what I want. And I DO like sex.
Then, one day, the boss calls me into his private office. He asks if I recall a youngish client he's represented for some time. Of course, I do. He inherited a business and a great deal of money when his father passed on. Sort of good looking in that spoiled-rich-kid way, he makes a point of speaking to me when he comes into the office, usually with eyes fixed on my breasts. Sydney astonishes me when he asks, flat out, if I'll sleep with that client for a cash payment.
I surprise both of us when I answer, far quicker than I should, "Maybe."
The offer is: the client will be in a hotel room (the hotel is only across the street from our building) and I meet him there. I get the money and then let him fuck me -- or whatever.
"The fee is $500 an hour. He's paying for an hour but if you finish earlier, it's still $500 cash." No other details of what acts he might expect me to perform. Suck and fuck is what guys usually want. That's easy. I do it every day for my boyfriend.
I consider it overnight and tell Sydney the next morning I'll do it. Arrangements are made for Friday afternoon. The hotel room is nice but not overly luxurious. Doesn't matter, I guess, since I won't be spending much time here. The client is waiting and opens the door to my knock. I give him a big smile as I walk in. As he generally does, he focuses on my chest. I have left the short jacket I wore to work back at the office, so my low cut dress can have maximum effect. A little self-consciously, he gives me an envelope I can see holds five hundred dollar bills.
There is little talk as he begins undressing me almost immediately. He does all the breast squishing and sloppy boob kissing that many men love. For a guy who looks like such a ladies' man, he becomes rather hesitant. So, I begin kissing him as I unzip his fly and pull out his cock. Soon his hands are on my shoulders urging me down.
I start kissing his shaft all along its length and playing the tip with my tongue. I have brought one of those thin, ultra-sensitive condoms that I fit over his cock. Then I take as much as I can into my mouth while strongly sucking it. It really gets him going when I lower my body, incline my head and force his erection to point down. I swallow it all so he's actually fucking my throat. This is something I've worked up to with practice on my boyfriend.
I sense he's getting close already, so I stand to encourage him to the bed. When we're finally there, he wants me in the cowboy position so he can continue to play with my tits. I stroke him to max hardness and slip on a new condom. Grasping his dick again, I use it teasingly to stimulate my clitoris before easing myself down his stiff penis. He's an okay fuck, nothing great. Of course, I concentrate on making him feel that he is. He appears more than happy, gasping and moaning while I ride him. I steal glances at both our watches to keep track of time. I'm on the clock, after all! Then he grabs my ass and makes several hard upward thrusts before coming. I can feel the throbbing even with the condom on. It's a long, strong ejaculation.
When we're finished, I go into the bathroom to clean myself, making sure to take my handbag with me. I gauged it well, just 46 minutes, when I go back to the office $500 richer.
Needless to say, I don't mention the special work I did today to my boyfriend. There is no way he'd not be upset. I should feel guilty over this but I really think it's my business and nobody else's.
I don't know whether my pimping boss expects to make a habit of setting up these rendezvous, or what. I mean, I don't want to be a prostitute but I wouldn't mind a sideline income. What I need is to get some control of my own. Like what I'm willing to do, for who and for how much. So, I check websites to see how escorts usually work and what they get.
Based on what I find, I figure that $500 for a full hour FS (full service -- some sucking and intercourse in multiple positions) is a good rate. And $200 for just a CBJ (blowjob with condom), if someone wants that. Longer periods can be negotiated. All sex with condoms. Extras, like deepthroating and anal should cost $50 to $100 more. I'd have to think about it in more detail more.
Now, I'm ready for the boss. I am pretty certain he'll propose something and he doesn't disappoint me. After asking how my "appointment" had gone -- not for the first time -- he says that a number of men have asked for my availability for similar activity. I'll bet he's been talking to his pals. Well, I'm definitely not going with him or anyone else at the firm.
"Claire, I'm not a procurer. These are simply private agreements for private services. I'm happy to act as liaison for appointments. Is that all right with you?"
"Well, who would these men be? I want to have approval upfront. And I want to set my price, too. If I agree, that is."