This is a story about how a woman fulfils her most dramatic sexual dream. The woman is Charley Williams who has featured in two of my previous Literotica efforts. I introduced her in "From Physio to Gigolo," where she played a minor part and then developed A Black Night in New York around her.
She liked hard sex. Raw sex. Dirty sex.
She was a screamer, a moaner, a scratcher and a biter.
She liked pain. Both giving and having. And she liked marks, trophy marks. On her and on her lovers
There'd been numerous times when she'd sat in the boardrooms of major companies or the conference rooms in banks, lawyers or accountants in her prim banker's suit, naked underneath, with big, red suck marks over her breasts, pinch and scratch marks on her body and fierce stripes across her ass from a cane or hand.
She was ambitious and adventurous and wanted new experiences and fresh kicks all the time.
But that's exactly what she didn't have. The time. The time to find partners. The time to get to know them and to build the sort of relationship that led to great sex of the sort she wanted.
But then highly successful career women often don't have the time for many things. And Charlotte Mason was very successful and exceedingly career minded. A girl had to be to have got to a Senior VP position in the M & A department of one of the world's top banks at the age of 33. And she had to be doubly career minded if she was to become the first MD of an M & A department of a major bank. That was Charley's ambition, her aim and her objective in life. Everything else was subservient to that. Even had she believed in it that would have included love. It would also include traditional relationships, flirting, getting to know men and being seduced. All that just took far too long. She could arrange the takeover of a multi billion pound company and earn millions for the bank and thousands for herself in the time it usually takes for a man and a woman to progress from.
"Hi how are you I'm Charley?"
To
"Yes, yes, yes. Fuck me hard right now."
So she cut corners. She dispensed with traditional relationships, did away with typical "boy meets girl" situations and cast aside the conventional ways that young women meet men.
Charley purchased her pleasure. She bought her sex. She paid men to fuck her.
There was no real need but now she preferred to and it did, she readily admitted to herself, added to the kicks, gave her more buzz and greater sexual satisfaction. Had she been more patient, been willing to take her time then she would have been able to pick and choose her partners.
She was bright, as a 2:1 from London implies, was attractive in a slightly hard-looking way, a little like Madonna in Evita a man had rather pleased her by once saying and she had a great toned and very fit body from daily work outs in the gym. Her position at the bank gave her all the trappings of a high-flying banker's life-style. Nearly a million pounds last year in salary and bonuses, an almost limitless expense account, first class travel, limos on demand and a Porsche Carr era , hardly used in the underground car park of her London Docklands £2 million apartment. Some would say she had it all and in many ways she did. But she didn't have the time. And in any case where could a girl who was working six and seven twelve or more hours a day a week meet anyone? Sure there were the businessmen, lawyers and accountants with whom she worked but the maxim of never fuck a client was instilled firmly in her from her ambition to get on. Also did she really want someone on the circuit as it were to know the inner secrets of her sexual desires and practices, she asked herself receiving a resounding no for an answer? And, in reality, she rarely met anyone else. Ok she'd occasionally have a little fling with a colleague who was well outside her inner circle and yes when travelling she might meet a guy on a plane, in a hotel lobby or airport who was on the same sort of heavy travel regime as she and they'd end up screwing each other but they were the exceptions rather than the norm.
Her first male escort was arranged by a female colleague in New York.
"Oh shit C I use 'em all the time. I'll fix it for you," she'd said. True to her word her friend had and that night Charley paid for sex for the first time in her life in the Pierre Hotel.
The first e-mail she saw on her laptop when she opened it up after he'd gone was from her friend. It simply said
"Call Maxine on 212 378 5419 any time. She'll get you the satisfaction I know you'll have had this evening whenever you want it."
She'd started using "male escorts" in London when a friend recommended a young Australian physio who "did extras." Charley visited him at the clinic where he worked and although he satisfied her with his hands he refused to fully service her as she demanded in fear of them being caught.
"But I do visiting massage," he'd told her.
They had a very energetic and vigorous series of fucks that very evening including one on the balcony of her apartment under the stars!
Although she continued using the visiting massage agency that Matt grew from just him to having eight or nine male physios and a number of girls as well she also found other sources where she could indulge her whim for buying sex.
She'd developed a network of agencies over the last few years in New York, London, San Francisco, LA, Frankfurt and even as far flung recently as Mumbai, Sydney and Beijing. So almost wherever she went sex was available if she wanted it. And usually she did.
In the cities she visited more frequently and for longer periods, especially New York and London, the agencies got to know her and her tastes quite well. She only had to say.
"The usual please," to Maxine in New York, Shirley in LA or San Francisco and Matt or Fiona in London, and they'd know the score.
A guy in his twenties with a good body. Muscular yet slim. Any excess weight was strictly taboo. Fairly bright and sophisticated enough to not be out of place at the top hotels. He'd have to be able to cum three or four times in quick succession and be prepared to be bitten and scratched. He had to have the instinct to know how hard to be with her and just how far he could go with sucking, scratching, pinching and sometimes spanking her. He'd need to know where he could leave marks and where he shouldn't, how much to kiss and make love to her and how much too simply just sell her sex.
But sometimes she wouldn't say, "the usual please." No sometimes she decided to experiment or to respond to one of the agency's suggestions.
She'd have a man and a woman for the evening having sex with both at the same time as her interest in bisexuality grew. She'd have two men and occasionally two women so she could experience threesomes. She'd order someone whose job was to spank her and after that someone she could spank. There were times, especially in Germany, where she got into mild BDSM and S & M although she did find much of the dressing up and the rituals faintly ridiculous and that detracted from her excitement and pleasure. In New York and in LA she bought big, black men and revelled in riding on the ends of super-sized cocks realising that size, when used properly, really could make a difference.
"Ms Mason may I advise you of a new service we have just started," the refined voice of Fiona the newish contact at the London agency she'd been using, very successfully, for the past few year or so, had asked when she'd called and ordered a young stud to visit her that evening.
"Yes of course."
"Well it is a very personal service indeed and one that is only being offered to our best customers."
"OK fine," Charley replied a little curtly her attention span being somewhat tested by the plumy voiced woman.
"Well if I could give you a website to visit that you'll need your password to our site with the number 78 on the end, then you can find out all about it. Is that ok?"
"Yes fine, thanks Fiona. So Greg'll meet me at the hotel at nine right?"
"Yes he'll call you on your mobile when he's in the foyer."
"Great bye then and thanks."
Although it was unnecessary from a work angle Charley was staying in one of the suites the bank kept permanently in several London hotels They never knew when a big client might need to use it or when their own top brass or senior operational staff like Charley might have to work late and thus stay over. After a scare from one escort that had visited her apartment and had returned uninvited another time she no longer as she, rather cavalierly had when she first used escorts, entertained them at home.
It was only seven, which was quite an early end to the day for Charley, when she strolled out of her office, along the plush corridors of the Merger and Acquisitions department of the bank, down the lift and out into the autumn air of the City. The buzz, noise, excitement and general mayhem of the traffic and the crowds of big cities never ceased to amaze and stimulate Charley. She strolled towards the Bank where she planned to get the DLR to Canary Wharf from which she could walk to her stunning apartment. A light snack, shower and change of clothes and then she'd get a cab to Mayfair and be at the hotel well in time for Greg's arrival
He was a new arrival on the agency's register and came highly recommended from the female owner who claimed to test out each of her new young bucks. She had personally called Charley having got to know her when the business was smaller and she was the contact of all the clients.
"He really is right up your street Charley I promise you," Maggie had oozed down the phone. "He fucks like a rabbit and cums like a London bus."
