The Soldier Boy

It wasn't a very nice hotel room, but it wasn't a total pit either. It was perhaps the nicest one he'd ever been in -- if in fact he had ever been in a hotel room at all -- and that was what mattered really.

The hotel room wasn't really important other than the clean bed and the floor to ceiling mirrors on the closet that faced the bed. I was naked on my knees and he was standing in front of me watching us in the mirror. That was the image I wanted him to remember as he went through boot camp and probably off to the war that was just getting started in the gulf.

He was young -- 18 and proudly admitted that he joined the military as soon as he finished high school -- and I was just a bit older. But I was wise in the ways of the world and he was just about to find out how hard the world could be.

I wanted to give him something to remember us by - something I was pretty sure that his young girlfriend hadn't. And so, I gave it to him deep and slow, not bothering to look up into his eyes because I could tell he was watching us in the mirror.

I concentrated on him. On his cock and how stimulated he was. I knew I could have got him off at any time, but for a change that wasn't what I was looking to do. Whenever I tasted the telltale taste of pre-cum or sensed that twitch that told me he was close to the edge, I backed off and did a bit of ball sucking or light licks. Nothing too kinky -- I didn't want to spoil him for other girls -- but I wanted him to enjoy it and take his time.

I took him that way for maybe 10 minutes or so -- which was a long time by my standards as I could usually work a cock in next to no time -- and finally I think even he realized that I'd been on my knees long enough that my neck and jaws could use a rest. He pulled him up and into the bed -- a move driven by desire and hunger. It was naked and needy and so damn cute in a way that it thrilled me.

I almost laughed when he asked me if I wanted him to put on a condom -- reaching for his wallet to let me know he had one ready. He never even thought about the idea that he might want to wear one to fuck a girl in my profession. But I had just been through and STD check and was pretty sure that he was a virgin, so I told him to fuck me raw. (I saw his boner twitch when I said that.)

The next part was just a bit awkward, and I think he was grateful when I finally used my hand and guided him inside. (Had he carelessly stabbed that thing around any more than he had, he might have wound up in a place that his older brother's money had not paid for.) I was surprised how wet I was, and with that little bit of help he slide right in.

Some things move men know instinctively. The rest are the men who ended up paying me to fuck them because their wives had no interest. This boy now becoming a man, well he needed some help to get started but he caught on quick. The first moves were tentative but very quickly he was driving into me with a stroke that would have made his daddy (also a client) proud.

I knew women in my profession who proudly said they would never cum with a customer, which I always thought was one of the stupidest things I'd ever heard. I knew that some men who paid you definitely did not want you to enjoy what they were doing to you, but if the client was up for a good time, I was too. Most of them couldn't fuck themselves out of a paper bag, but when I found one who had the right rhythm, I wasn't one to turn down a little job satisfaction.

This one, he had the instinct. He knew when to stay where he was and keep going there and also when to switch it up. When to slow down and when to hit the high speeds. Pretty soon I was a wet soggy mess, sweating and moaning to the point that he backed off concerned that he was hurting me. (I was so into it that when he stopped, I almost slugged him -- but it was still kind of sweet.)

I was exhausted when I finally felt his body go tense and his release in me. I could feel immediately that this was one of those times when I would have to leave a big tip for the made as she'd be pulling the blankets, sheets and the mattress pad. (Maybe also spending a bit of time with a hair dryer.)

He stopped and I was eventually okay with that, but he didn't pull out which was kind of weird. It took me a moment to realize he was already hard again if in fact he'd ever gone soft. Ah the magic of youth.

If this had been any other session, I'd have had him out of there a half hour before and I knew some of his friends and family where waiting downstairs, but this wasn't the way I wanted this one to end. I slid off of him -- and that was hard because his cock felt good and because I was honestly a little sore -- but rolled him over onto his back and took him in my mouth instead. This time I didn't hold back.

When he came, I could have swallowed it all though there was a lot, but instead I let it go just about everywhere. On me. On him. On the bed. I made a mad dash to the bathroom giving the signal that I felt the need for a towel or towels, and I really did as one of the places he'd hit was directly into my eye.

The kid wasn't stupid. It wasn't hard to figure out that when you cum in a girls eye, the fun is probably over for the night, and to his credit he got the hint. While I made a big deal of wiping away the goo -- all the while walking around naked knowing my thighs and boobs were practically glowing as they were so slick with sweat and cum -- he got himself dressed, not even pausing to wipe off his cock though I would have helped him given half a chance.

I gave him my card -- a simple one with just my name and a pager number -- which was something I almost never did for any man who wasn't a high roller -- and I told him to call me. I knew he was leaving he next morning, but I thought it would be a good souvenir. Something to hold onto during his time in boot camp and to show to his buddies while bragging about how he made a whore lady cum. (His buddies would not believe him of course-- but then I wouldn't have believed it either had I not been along for the ride.)

I gave him a kiss at the door and told him I was going to take a shower and clean-up a bit before I came back down the bar. With that he slipped away.

I did take the shower but didn't go down to the bar after. I didn't want to see the male family members who I did business with, nor their wives who probably missed the money that that their husbands paid me when it should have been going towards the bills. Mostly though, I didn't want to go down there and risk being asked to do more business. Though times were lean, and I could have used the money, that didn't seem right and would have been an invasion of what he and I had experienced together.

I never saw the young man again, though heard through the small-town grapevine that he ended up sitting out the war in a base somewhere in former eastern bloc, and later that he married a Polish girl and quickly had twins. I was so glad. His dad and brother both came by once or twice, but my heart wasn't in it and I think they knew that because they took soon their business elsewhere or home to their wives where it belonged.

Looking back, it wasn't the good sex that I remember -- and yes it really was that good. It was the idea that I was sending that boy off to boot camp as a man and would be a memory he'd have for the rest of his life no matter how long or short it was. I guess even in the worst jobs you can find things you like, and that soldier boy was mine.