Twinle

Can you imagine having sex eight times in a week but not cumming? That torture is my life, and that life pays the bills. Men use me for a surreal experience. They want a dramatic fuck with a dramatic climax. As a professional, I always give them what they ask for including the porn star theatrics.

A request went out:

client: S T (blonde/blue)

wants: leggy chocolate beauty

meet: 8pm Hilton bar, corner table

dress: appropriate

pay: $1000

code: Kundera

$1000 to swallow a load of spunk didn’t sound too bad to me. I had done it for more and I had done it for less. Since I fit the general description, I answered the call. Two hours later I walked into the downtown bar with my trusty bag of tricks and took a seat. An old friend approached my table. "Steve?" I was alarmed. It was unnerving seeing someone I knew while out on a call.

"How have you been Marla?"

"Fine, and you?"

"I’m fine too." He sat across from me.

I looked around the bar hoping that the man I was meeting wouldn’t see me with him. "Good…

good…" My voice trailed off.

Steve waived the waitress away even though I could have used a drink. "How long have we known each other?"

"Years." Five years to be exact.

"That’s right," He nodded, "and I have been thinking about that a lot lately."

"Really?" I crossed my legs under the table then quickly uncrossed them when I remembered I wasn’t wearing any panties.

"I have done everything short of kidnapping to get you to go out with me. Hinting around didn’t work and neither did the direct approach."

"I’m sorry Steve but this is a bad time. This is a serious conversation that deserves not to be rushed." I glanced at my watch. 7:58pm. "Can I call you tomorrow? You can come over for lunch."

"You can relax Marla, you are meeting me here tonight." He pulled a book from the underneath the table. The fact that it was by Milan Kundera couldn’t have been a coincidence.

I sat silently, contemplating the fact that my friend was buying me. The words came slowly, "Well you have two hours. Do you want to make the best of your time?"

"I’ve rented a room if that’s what you’re asking." Steve pulled his checkbook out of his back pocket. "A thousand right?"

I nodded, "I don’t take checks." It may have sounded cold, but this was business.

"I brought cash just in case."

"Don’t take it out down here." I stood up and headed for the elevators in the lobby.

*****

Once in the room, we discussed the business at hand more freely. I looked him over trying to decide if he was serious or not. My first question was straight to the point, "How do you want it?"

"Can you speak like a human being and not gutter slum?" He sat his book on the nightstand then turned to face me.

That hurt. "$25 in the back of a car is gutter slum. Don’t insult me."

His voice was full of sarcasm. "Sorry Twilight."

"It’s Twinkle." I snapped.

He laughed out loud, "If I have to call you by your nickname then you can call me something equally ridiculous. Call me your ‘bad boy’."

"Do you want me to be a bad girl?"

"No." he answered plainly. "Actually, I just want you to be Marla…and let me be Steve."

"Do you know why the girls call me Twinkle?" When he didn’t respond, I continued, "Its because men tip big if they think they’re the best screw you’ve ever had."

"And?"

"And, I can open the flood gates on queue just like an actress. If they think they can fuck me so good that I cry when I cum then that means extra money." I admitted.

He listened carefully as I detailed the hidden part of my life over several minutes. "I don’t like who you’ve become." His face was full of disgust.

"Why not? You’re a businessman and I’m a businesswoman."

Steve let out a long sigh, "Am I your only date tonight?"

"This isn’t a date its an appointment."

"When was the last time you were with someone you truly cared about?" He asked.

"Sex is a tool." Did he think he was my therapist? This was awkward not because I was having trouble recalling but because I was sure that I hadn’t ever been with someone I loved. I needed to take control of the situation and knew that I could do so with my body. He watched as I peeled the spaghetti straps of my little green dress over my shoulders then stepped out of it. Now I was naked before him rendering him speechless. Ha!

"You are more beautiful then I imagined." His eyes followed the curves of my body.

I turned around and struck a pose knowing that my backside was equally impressive. After a moment or two I faced him again.

"I could look at you all night." Steve took baby steps towards me and as he did so, I eased back, luring him to the bed. There we were face to face as I was undressing him. I don’t know if he was nervous, shy or inexperienced, but when he touched me it seemed non-sexual. His hands glided over my skin, stroking my shoulders and arms, my tummy and waist. Everywhere but the traditional erogenous zones. The funny thing is that as he stood there drinking in the sight of me, I became aroused. I closed my eyes and allowed him to touch me everywhere. They only opened when his lips touched mine. I turned my face away, "I don’t kiss." Under normal circumstances I could have kissed him. In fact I had many times in the past…those innocent pecks on the cheek or a quick kiss goodbye.

Steve simply accepted my statement and didn’t argue the fact. "Since they don’t rent rooms by the hour, we don’t have to leave until morning."

"Good because I have a tasty treat for you." Steve’s eyes gravitated down to my trimmed pussy but I wasn’t talking about oral sex just yet. I pulled the jar and paint brush out of my bag of tricks and threw them on the bed.

He searched my eyes as I continued to undress him. "What’s all of tthis?"

"Its an edible tattoo set. Its just liquid chocolate that dries in a few seconds like when they dip your cone at the ice cream shop. The escort request you sent out asked for a ‘chocolate beauty’. I thought that maybe it was a hint of your fantasy."

"Fantasy?" He was intrigued, but repeated the word like he didn’t understand it’s meaning. "How does it work?"

"I brush the body frosting over the stencils or draw whatever I like on you." I twisted he top off of the chocolate and dipped my finger in for a taste. Instead of bringing it to my mouth I brought it to his. Steve’s moan was the first sign that he was a sexual being and not some paranoid virgin.

"So delicious Marla…"

"I know." I gave him another taste.

"Mmmm…"

I moaned seductively along with him, "Mmmm…its yummy isn’t it? Tell me your fantasies?"

"Feeding someone while we are doing it. Food and making love."

Last night I had to strap on a dildo and fuck some big guy in the ass. Steve’s simple request would be easy. "Maybe we can try that together." I urged, moving the jar on the nightstand. Steve appeared scared when I pushed him on the bed and rolled on top of him. I teased his neck and chest then pressed my tits to him as I ground my pussy against his thigh. When all of this failed to produce a solid hard on, I dipped the brush in the jar.

"Chocolate is an aphrodisiac," his voice calmed, "that's why I asked for someone with chocolate skin. You have chocolate skin so I knew that they would send you." He licked his lips as his eyed devoured me, "it is sooooo tantalizing."

I drew abstract swirls on his chest and stomach then blew on the gooey chocolate until it dried. He watched as I nibbled it off, leaving sticky brown smears all over his fair skin. I repeated, working my way down his front side until I got to his dick. Once there, I painted his erection until it was the color of my skin then sucked it off. I know for a fact that he loved that. He wouldn’t admit it out loud, but his body told me so.

After a while I handed him the brush and the jar of chocolate but he didn’t want to paint me. Oh well…the customer is always right. Shit. I had imagined him doing some beautiful design on me since he is an artist but he didn’t seem interested. Maybe he was ready to fuck. "Condom?"

He seemed offended, "You know me…"

This was business. "…and you know me." I would have fucked him bareback, but only for extra money. It was best not to tell him so because I didn’t want to offend him even more.

"I didn’t bring anything. I thought that since…"

"Its ok. I carry them." Thinking he was ready, I became more aggressive and that’s when he began to pull away.

"I don’t like this Marla. Its so forced. I can’t do it like this its just too much pressure. You’re intimidating…"

"Me?" Little old me? I was flattered.

"You always say things like ‘riding dick is an art form’ or ‘I’ve never met a dick that I didn’t like’. How am I supposed to compete with that? I wanted this to happen naturally. I wanted to make love to you on my terms." He wanted so much.

That confirmed it. Obviously we weren’t fucking tonight. My whole attitude towards him changed. "Lets just forget this whole night happened and get some rest." I pulled the covers back and slipped between the chilly sheets. After a moment of standing there looking stupid, he did the same.

Steve folded his pillow and stuffed it behind his neck then picked up Laughter and Forgetting. I laid next to him as he read selected passages aloud. They were beautiful passages that completely changed the mood. Suddenly we were just Steve and Marla and I was happy again.

I waited patiently as he thumbed through the book again. After finding the right section he looked down and tenderly kissed my nose. I fell asleep in his arms listening to his voice. It was the realest moment I had shared with a man in years.

*****

He inched towards me to spoon as the sun came up. I loved the feeling of warmth that came with his embrace. I also loved the feeling of his hard dick pressed against my ass. Part of the enjoyment was that he wasn’t a stranger. In that moment I realized what I had been missing all of these years. Not necessarily love…but a connection. I had a connection with Steve that was undeniable. I pondered that as he buried his face in my hair and spoke. "We’ve talked about your job before. I know how you let men tie you up and do things to you…rough things. Don’t you see that it can be different? It can be like this all of the time."

I got defensive, "If you can’t handle my truth then maybe we aren’t suited to be friends."

Steve took his time with me, which was very different in my line of work. "I don’t want to be your friend." He began to move around back there letting his erection come to rest between my legs. His dick’s position was the exclamation point of his statement. He definitely knew his way around a woman’s body.

I was ready, willing…but still waiting. Suddenly my body had a mind of its own. I was softly undulating against him. "Put it in."

"Not yet." His warm breath caressed my ear.

"Please." I wanted it so bad. I was desperate as we moved with each other. When I looked over my shoulder at him, he surprised me with a kiss. I can’t remember the last time a man kissed me on the lips. It had to be sometime last year. Steve was passionately kissing me, knowing that the act was forbidden in my world. His touch was so intoxicating that I found myself kissing him back. Soon we were fully involved and his hands wandered down between my legs. I quickly spread them to give better access and his fingers took full advantage. Gentle circles followed as his mouth left mine and moved down my neck. His fingers continued to move between my lower lips going back and forth from my insides to my clit. By now I was soaking wet and desperate for his dick to slip inside. Instead, the fingers squishing around in my wetness penetrated me until I was squirming.

Steve began to whisper beautiful sentiments. His dick was still sliding between my legs but he wouldn’t enter me. He played in my pussy bringing me to climax for the first time. As my body quivered against his, he methodically massaged my sensitive clit. I had to bite my lip to keep from cursing him. That’s when I felt the wetness on my pillow. Tears. Steve’s love had brought me to tears. Not the fake kind I shed for clients, but genuine. What the fuck?

"Marla, I want so much to make love to you. Will you let me?"

I nodded frantically. I was a mess.

Damn.

Steve finally slid inside of me from behind for what I thought would be an average fuck but it was amazing. He pushed himself about an inch in, then began moving but accidentally slipped free. I was patient, knowing that fucking like this can be tricky because of the angle.

"Come on baby…" I wet my lips one at a time, "…don’t stop." The tables were turned. In my line of work, usually it is the clients that do the begging.

A long moan escaped as he eased the rest of the way in pulled back then thrusted forward.

Sigh.

We were still once again. "Do you know how long I have waited to be inside of you? How long I have wanted to be with you like this?"

"Fuck me…fuck me Steve. Please don’t stop." I pushed my ass back to encourage him. "Just fuck me…"

"Don’t say it like that. Don’t belittle the act."

I rephrased to appease him, "Make love to me."

There were more silky touches and kisses all over my neck and shoulders, wet and wonderful. His probing fingers left my pussy and made a damp trail up to my tits where he kneaded me like dough. Each time he entered me it was like oxygen. He was reviving me. Bringing that lost person back to life. I was being born.

I arched my back and tilted my hips so he could dig deeper. Slow and easy. We fucked like that until I melted into the sheets. I wished I could have lived that moment forever. Him behind me with that steady rhythm, massaging my tits and whispering the sweetest things. Fucking me so fucking good. Lord have mercy, just achingly slow and good. My moans serenaded us as we picked up speed.

Steve pulled out as I came which is a no no. A straight rookie move. Everyone knows that you keep moving through your orgasm until you can’t take anymore. I love being fucked when I am overly sensitive until the pleasure becomes painful. This time it was me who initiated the kissing. It seemed inadequate, but it was the only way I could think of to thank him.

After the encounter, we fell asleep, legs entangled and spooning. It was the same position he woke me up and fucked me in. My ass pressed to him…his hands on my tits. Delicious comfort.

Later that morning I woke up alone but blissfully happy. Until…

…I looked at the nightstand and realized that he didn’t pay me. That motherfucker.