The (fat And) Happy Hooer

I woke with a start when she slapped my ass.

"Up bitch," she said, "my turn."

"Jesus," I said, twisting around and seeing 3:24 on the headboard clock, "what the fuck, insomniac."

"Get those big legs spread, toots," she said, waving the big strapon at me.

I giggled and said, "damn, I need to pee."

She slapped the side of my belly, hard enough to make an audible smacking sound.

"You have more sheets, now get those damn legs spread," she said again.

I giggled and pulled my knees up until they touched my nipples.

"All yours, honey," I said, surprised not at all that I was wet and ready.

That dildo is DAMN big and I grunted a little as she entered me with it but then I wrapped my legs around her, encouraging her.

"That's right honey," I said, "fuck me like a whore."

I grunted as she thrust, her grin was absolutely feral. I giggled again, and opened my mouth to catch the string of drool hanging from her lip.

"God I love you," she said, thrusting again, deep, making me grunt and sort of whimper.

"And I love you," I said, reaching up and pulling her down to kiss her.

She settled down then and we made love, slow and easy until we were both satisfied. When she pulled out I rolled out of the bed before she could catch me and literally ran into the bathroom. I was already peeing as I sat.

She strolled in as I was peeing, the big strapon bobbing ridiculously.

"Jesus," I said, laughing, "you discover a nymphomaniac streak or something."

"Just for that insult," she said, grinning, "you get my new friend up the ass."

I smiled, wiped, stood, and kissed her.

"Promises, promises," I said.

There was that grin again and she slapped my ass and said, "in the bed, bitch."

My natural lubricant was enough, if barely. When she thrust into me I worried for a moment that something was going to tear. And when she adjusted herself, changing her angle slightly, to get past my rectal vault all of the way into my colon, into my bowels, I started cumming. Christ, she took me through dozens of orgasms before she was tired and finished herself.

She fucked me sore for the next 30 minutes.

When we were both satisfied we rolled out of bed, showered, and dried each other among much giggling, and I sent her on her way.

I checked my messages and there were another half dozen from Marta. Since no clients had called to book me I figured I'd call.

"Sammee?" she answered.

"Marta," I said, letting a little aggravation into my voice, "you HAVE to quit calling me every few minutes, dammit."

"Sammee," she said, ignoring me, "Jacob and I would like to have lunch with you today and offer you a proposal."

"Proposal?" I asked.

She giggled and said, "yes, a proposal."

When I didn't say anything she added, "please."

I sighed, theatrically I thought, and said, "all right, where and when?"

She gave me the name of a restaurant I didn't know and said, "Jacob and I will be there right at one o'clock."

"I'll be there," I said.

I spent the morning cleaning the apartment. Two fat girls fucking like we had can make quite a mess.

I selected one of my more modest outfits, a black pants suit, a very white blouse, and moderately high-heeled black shoes. I did my face and hair, looking, I hoped, like a banker or maybe an office manager, as I went to my lunch date.

It turned out to be one of those fusion places, this one billed itself as "American Home Cookin' with a Thai Twist."

They were already there when I walked in. I liked the little courtesy when he stood as I approached the booth.

"What's up Jake? Mart?" I asked.

They looked at each other for a second and then Jacob said, "it's your show, Marta. Go ahead."

The waitress came then and I ordered iced tea, unsweet, and the meatloaf, curious what meatloaf with a "Thai twist" might be like.

They ordered and when the waitress left I leaned forward, elbows on the table, in my best woman-in-charge pose, and said, "okay Mart, what's up?"

She took a deep breath and said, "we want you to teach our son."

I smiled at that. "Well, it wouldn't be the first cherry I've popped, but usually it's dad or an uncle that arranges it."

"No," she said quickly, "not just a one-time thing."

"Huh?" I said, showing my conversational skills aren't always at their best.

She giggled at that.

"We don't want him, or his future wife, to need someone like you, Sammee," she said, "we want him to know how to make her happy, you know?"

"What," I said, still not clear on what she was proposing, "do you have in mind?"

"We want you to move in with us, live with us, be his teacher," she said, "well," she added with a giggle, "and be available to us too."

"You're serious?" I asked.

"Sammee," Jacob joined the conversation, "yes, we're serious. Here's the offer. Benjamin turns 18 next month. We want to make you his birthday present," I broke into laughter at that, holding up my hand for him to stop while I got myself under control.

"Okay," I said, finally breathing naturally after a big drink from my iced tea, "go on," I finished, kind of waving my hand at him helplessly.

He was NOT smiling.

"Sammee," he said, "this is a serious offer. He's a junior now, so we're offering a four-year deal. Benjamin has trouble applying himself so that will be his last two years in high school and two years of junior college. Unless you WANT to accompany him to college when he goes," he added with a chuckle, "your work will be done and you'll be able to retire. That's about four years of work and you'll retire comfortably before you hit 40."

That got my attention.

"Retire? Go on," I said.

He smiled at that.

"Sammee, I'm real good at what I do. We'll pay you $100,000 a year," he said and I laughed.

"Shit, Jake," I said, "I make twice that already."

He smiled and said, "shush, let Jakey explain things. This is my world now."

"Okay," I said, intrigued in spite of myself.

"The hundred grand will be on the books, W-2, withholding, and all. But we'll pay you a bonus so you clear the hundred. Then I'll set you up with a very nice 401(k) program and match you, dollar for dollar. And the thing is, you'll be able to put the whole $100,000 in that since your living expenses will be precisely zero. We'll provide your room and board, a car, and a company credit card you can live on. And you, my dear," and he leaned over and patted my hand, "retire as a millionaire," he finished.

I said nothing, thinking.

Almost miraculously, Marta managed to say nothing either.

Lunch came and we ate, in silence. I was thinking hard.

The meatloaf was absolutely delicious, the odd flavors of Thai spices and herbs making it special.

"Okay," I said, leaning back with a satisfied belch and taking a small bite of my volcano chocolate cake dessert, "suppose I say yes to this insanity. How would it work?"

Marta took the conversation over again.

"We have a place in the mountains," she said, "and we figured we'd set you up there, and when his after Bar Mitzvah party wound down, we'd drop him off. Then it would be up to you to explain the new arrangement."

I laughed at that.

"Really, that simple?" I said.

She giggled and said, "Sammee, you're the expert in that field. We're kind of feeling our way around on this but we really, REALLY don't want Benjamin to have the problems we did," she reached across the table and covered my hand with hers, "until we met you."

"Okay," I said, "but I would want you to keep up the rent on my apartment for at least the first year while I figure out if this is going to work."

"Done!" Jacob said and reached across the table, offering his hand.

The businesswoman in me took over - remember, I am a businesswoman, just in a different kind of business. I started running numbers in my head.

"Make it 150K, with your match, no limits on that company credit card, and my choice of the company car," I said.

"Done," he said again.

So I took a deep breath and we shook, formally, and they started to leave, just like that.

At the door, Jacob stopped and turned back came back to the table where I was still sitting, thinking.

"Here," he said, handing me an envelope, smiling, and then turning and hurrying to catch up with Marta.

I opened the envelope and found a thick stack of $100 bills and a note.

"Sammee:" the note read, "This should cover your time for the next month. We'd like you 'fresh' for Benjamin. Love, Jake and Mart."

So I counted and there were 100 bills there, $10,000 for NOT working for a month.

"Hell, yes," I said softly.