Gifted Grifter Ch 07

Chapter 7: Julie Pays the Bills, Part II

I was awakened the morning by my dick. More accurately, my brain was stirred to alertness by sensations being transmitted to it by my dick. Julie had woken up first, and decided that she would wake me up with a blow job. If I could invent an alarm clock that could do that, I'd be richer than Bill Gates.

She looked up at me when she realized I was awake. She was curled up next to me, with my penis in her mouth and her one hand helping out. She looked at me with a look like a boarding school girl might give when she was doing something as naughty as sucking dick. I rested one hand on her naked shoulder, to acknowledge my receipt of this attention really, and otherwise let her do her thing. Now awake, I got harder, to which she responded by sucking harder, and soon I was exploding in her mouth. Just like in the car, she swallowed my entire load, then licked my penis clean with her tongue. I now reached for her and pulled her next to me and kissed her, full tongue. I could still taste traces of my semen in her mouth, but I didn't care—it was my cum, if she could swallow it the least I could do is put up with the taste.

When we stopped kissing, she looked at me mischievously and said "Good morning, Daddy. Did you like that?"

"Baby girl," I said, "you need to eat a more nutritious breakfast than that. You're a growing girl," I said, patting her naked breasts, "you need some vitamins and stuff, too." I kissed her again and hit the shower. She came in and joined me, but I wasn't ready to get up again just yet. Still, I got to soap up her entire body. I loved sudsing up her tits.

Out of the shower, I explained that we would have to run to Poser's for supplies for the weekend. She put on shorts and a short halter top, we put the top down on the car and ran to the store. I bought food to grill and, of course, picked up a liter of Canadian Club. I asked what she wanted to drink this weekend; she said CC was fine. I put the liter back and grabbed a 1.75 instead. I was going to make breakfast, but we opted for coffee and a Danish instead. I noticed that she was eating more like a normal person than she had in Vegas. She hadn't put on any weight, though; if anything her muscles were more defined. She must be putting in even more time at the gym.

Back at the cottage, we took a tour of the grounds. There was a shed; we found the key inside and discovered it contained boating and fishing gear and two old ten-speed bikes in decent shape. I decided that I would take her for a tour of the lakes region by bike; I could see she would have no trouble, I just hoped I could keep up.

She put on an exercise half-shirt and we went riding. I led for the first half, as I knew where to go. She led back. I had to work hard to stay on her rear wheel, but the sight of that strip of skin between the shorts and shirt kept me going.

We were hungry by the time we got back, more than two hours later. She was sweaty and jumped back in the shower to freshen up. I just took off my sweaty shirt and started warming the stove to make us some pudgie pies for lunch. I felt her squeeze behind me and go to the bedroom, but I was working on lunch and didn't pay attention. A couple of minutes she came back out. I suddenly became aware of very, very soft gently rubbing up and down my back. She had come out wearing a bikini bottom and the white shirt from last night, unbuttoned, with nothing underneath. She was now rubbing her breasts up and down my back. My dick got very attentive very quickly!

I wanted to fuck her right then and there, but lunch was ready.

"Dammit," I said, "lunch is ready. Now I'm gonna be unable to sit right all through lunch." She just smiled and took the plate I offered her.

There was a round table in the common room with old kitchen chairs around it for the eating area. I sat in one, she sat in the one next to it on the right. She sat with her right leg tucked up to her chin, holding the plate with her left hand and feeding herself with the right. When I was paying attention to my food, she would take her left leg and run it up and down my calves; when I paid attention to her, she stopped and pretended to look away. She was also playing games with her shirt; she would lean back, which would allow the shirt to flap open and her breasts to peek out either side of the opening. When I started looking at them, she would pull closer in to hide them behind her leg. What a fucking tease! Damn good thing she always finished what she started.

We finished and I took our plates to the sink. She stayed sitting coyly, hugging her raised leg, watching me, playing with me, seeing how I would get the fucking started. As I walked back, she cooed "Did you want something, Daddy?" The devil himself lived in her eyes.

I could have whipped it out and stuck my dick in her face; I think that's what she expected I would do. But her raised leg was giving me another opportunity.

"There's something I want to show you, little girl." I replied. She was thinking I was referring to my dick. Instead I got down on the floor in front of her chair, pulled aside the bikini bottoms, and started to rub her vagina.

"Now, this is how a big girl has a good time," I said. I felt her clit start to rise. "Especially, right here," I said, and started to run my tongue over her clit. I heard her emit a sound halfway between a moan and a coo. Then she slid her pelvis down towards the end of the chair, so that her vagina was more easily reached, and lifted her other leg. She sat there, with her feet on the chair, legs folded in to her chest, holding her ankles for balance, opening her thighs as far as she could without falling while I gave her head. When she started getting more excited, she couldn't hold that position, so she dropped one leg to the side of the chair and slung the other over my shoulder. Then I could really bury my tongue in her muff. It didn't take anywhere near as long as it had the night before to get her to orgasm.

After she came, she sat up in the chair, held my face in her two hands, and kissed me deeply. She started reaching for my pants; I stood up to help. She sat on the chair and swallowed me. She was masturbating with her left hand while sucking my dick, hands-free, as I stood before her.

I wanted to be inside her. Once I was fully hard, I stepped back and took her hands in mine. Then I threw anything that was left on the table to the floor and helped her hop up onto it. She positioned her hips at the edge of the table and spread her legs; I lunged my cock into her pussy. The table wasn't the most stable thing in the world, so she had to hold on to the edges of the table with both hands while I fucked her. This gave me a perfect opportunity to slide those damn shirt folds out of the way and run my hands up and down her breasts and torso. The breasts were soft and pliable, while her stomach was hard and muscled. What a perfect body she had. She was gorgeous. I took my leisurely time, rhythmically sliding in and out of her snatch but not increasing the tempo. In time I sensed that she was getting more aroused again; then I sped up the action. We were both nearing plateau; I think that she came again, although I can't say for sure because I was too wrapped up in my own massive orgasm.

I ran my hands up and down her body some more; she couldn't sit up to meet me for fear of tipping the table over. So I held the table steady while she hopped off it. We then stood embracing in the middle of the floor, kissing.

After a time, I told her to put on a swimsuit she could swim in; she came out in a different bikini (I imagined that my sperm had run out of her vagina and soiled the one she was just wearing) that was day-glow green, with shorts over it.

We jumped in the 'stang and I took her to the lake rental place.

"Have you ever water skied?" I asked.

She nodded no; not a whole lot of water in either Oklahoma City or Vegas for that. "Do you want to try to learn?" I didn't know how that would go, since I don't ski, but she didn't want to anyway.

I rented a ski boat for the afternoon anyway. We rode around the lake; she took off her shorts and sat on the back deck of the boat sunning herself. She sat with her legs crooked and her torso leaned back, supported by her arms, looking a little like the letter "W." Her bright bikini called attention to her existence and her well-formed body spoke for itself; as always, I noticed guys in other boats craning to take a look at the ornament on the back deck of my boat.

I pulled up at the dock of our rental, and ran to the shed to get a tow rope and inner tube. She had never tubed, either, but I knew she would like it, and I promised I would be gentle. I was, too—I didn't want her to be too sore from tubing to be able to keep fucking me like a minx! She loved it—although at one point she wiped out and very nearly lost the bottoms of her suit.

Time flew until it was time to take the boat back. I took her out for dinner at a little place by the dock (where it wasn't out of the ordinary to dine in a swim suit) and then we went back to the cottage.

When we got back, she asked me again if I had any fantasies I wanted to play out.

"Yes," I said, "I've always fantasized of being a porn photographer. I'd like if you would pose for me."

I didn't have my mindreading glasses on, but I could see that that idea did not sit well with Julie.

"You don't like that idea," I noted.

"Its just...if I let you take pictures of me, how do I know that you won't post them on the Internet, and someday I'll lose a job over it?" she said. "Or that you won't blackmail with them somehow. I'm sorry, I really want to make you happy, but I'm here in secret—you're my rich Uncle Tom so far as anyone knows. I can't risk the secret getting out."

"OK," I said, "but I wouldn't post it them on the Internet—I don't need the money, and without a legal release form I could get arrested for posting them. But we both know that it happens all the time anyway, so I can't blame you for that. But, you do realize," I continued, "that if I wanted to blackmail you, I could do that right now? I don't need pictures—I know you were a hooker, and now I know your real name. All I would need to do is tell someone to look you up in the Nevada circuit court records—isn't that true?"

Julie looked away and kept looking away. I could sense she was tense, and was fighting to keep her emotions under control. Clearly, she had never thought through the fact that I had "the goods" on her so to speak. She had trusted me to be discreet about our relationship in the short run; she hadn't realized she was going to have to trust me with her secrets forever, and clearly it frightened her.

I felt terrible. I knew I would never sell her up the river—Jamie could attest to that—but she didn't. "Hold on," I said, and went to the bedroom. I came back out holding the two cashier's checks with Julie's name on them.

"Here," I said, "these are for you." She turned to see what I was offering, took the two checks, and glancing at them saw this was the $15,000 she needed. "I have had perhaps the best time of my life with you these last few days. I would never pressure you into doing something you didn't want to do. Now you have the money you need, so if you want you can consider our deal completed. I can you to the city or to a hotel or something if that's what you want." I rubbed her cheek tenderly with the first knuckle of my finger.

She looked up at me with tears in her eyes. Funny, I had never noticed just how blue they really were. She stood up and said "Come here," with open arms. I did, and she hugged me—as tightly as she could. Then she turned to me and kissed me, tenderly; an emotional kiss, holding a mixture of gratitude and affection towards me with the fearful recognition that like it or not, we had a permanent bond of secrets between us.

"Tom, I..." she began.

I corrected her by telling her my real name. She looked at me quizzically, so I repeated it. "My name is Tom in same way your name is Heather. I used to do research for the Department of Defense. Now, I am a gambler by profession, living a life of false identities and rented addresses like a fugitive by choice." She was reading my eyes, trying to determine whether I wasn't just lying to her again. I think she could tell I wasn't. "See," I added, "now you know my secret, too."

She kissed me again, but this time the tension was all but gone. She had inadvertently left herself wide open to exploitation. My response had been to let her off the hook—I had already given her the money she needed and given her permission to leave—but especially I had shared my secret with her, making me vulnerable as well, when I there was no reason to except to balance the scales of risk between us. By sharing my secret, I told her that I was willing to trust her like she no longer had any choice but to do with me.

We stopped kissing and we looked each other in the eye, at close range. "So, do you want me to take you somewhere?" I asked again.

She started to shake her head no, then switched and nodded yes, saying "Yes...take me to the bedroom."

I held her hand and we went to the bedroom. We kissed again, a kiss like lovers kiss. She freed my penis with one hand, keeping the other around me in an embrace. I ran my fingers along her back; finding the knot in her bikini by accident, I proceed to release it. She paused the slip the fabric over her head. I dropped my drawers and fell into bed. She took off the rest of her clothes and followed me.

She stroked me gently with her nimble fingers. I slipped my fingers between her legs. She didn't take me into her mouth, as she didn't want to stop kissing. But she took my penis and guided it into the wet shrine between her thighs. She opened her legs wide and I made love to her.

After I came, we lay next to each other and engaged in pillow talk. I told her more about my life—the truth, although some details like the mindreading machine I just left out altogether. She told me her life story. Her father had been a Sooner football player and her mother a cheerleader; she was conceived out of wedlock and her parents had had to get married. It didn't work out, and by the time she was three he was out of her life entirely. For most of her early years, there were always strange men at the house—new "uncles"—as her mother was pretty and had no trouble finding men, but wasn't so good at keeping them. Finally when she was 12 her mother remarried, to a divorcee with two sons about her age. Unfortunately for her she was coming into puberty and becoming beautiful; she was sexually abused by both her stepfather and both of her step-brothers. She finally ran away at 18 and ended up in LA. She was lucky; she ended up working for the madam a high-class escort service a la Heidi Fleiss rather than a run-of-the-mill pimp; the fact that she had never become an addict probably helped with that. She had never walked the streets; from the start she was on-call with the rich and famous.

Eventually the madam got arrested and her escort service were busted. Julie and a number of the other girls fled to Vegas, where she had set up shop as a self-employed prostitute, and had done that until she met me.

She had just turned 23.

I felt so bad for her, and I told her so. She told me not to; I was one of the first people in her life that had treated her with dignity and respect, regardless of profession. I had given her the courage to reclaim her life, she said. Many people in her life had taken advantage of her to secure sexual favors. I was one of a very few she gave them too willingly—and that was why she wanted so badly to make sure that I enjoyed them.

At that, she got a look in her eye like she wanted to prove the point. She reached for her purse on the nightstand and pulled out a tube of something. Then she knelt between my legs and started sucking my dick. She started to masturbate, furiously, like she was racing to get excited. Then she paused, took some liquid out of the tube, and started rubbing it on her ass. Then she started to push her own fingers up into it.

I had not had anal sex before, but it looked like I was about to get my chance.

Once she was able to slide two finger comfortably into her ass, she took the tube again and rubbed the lubricant on my dick. Then she crawled to the top of the bed, kissed me, turned her ass towards me, and thrust it up in the air while laying he head down on the bed.

I had no trouble entering her ass after her careful preparations. It was different; when she squeezed me with her muscles while I was in her pussy, I could feel the pressure for the whole length of my dick. In her ass, there was a narrow region that was tighter than any pussy could be, after which there was nothing to feel. I liked it, although I wouldn't say I liked it better than her pussy.

She thrust her ass up and her feet together so I had room to fuck her. Looking at her backside, I also had free hands, which I first used on her breasts but soon used to rub her clit just as furiously as she had done. I don't know how much she did or didn't like the buttfuck, but was starting to get off on the manual stimulation of her clit.

I turned her over onto her back. Then I had her hold her legs up high, re-entering her ass. But now while I fucked her ass I could use both of my thumbs on her clit, and she started to get real excited. I felt her start to come, which of course made her butt cheeks squeeze even tighter. That, in turn, set me off, and I had an eruption in her ass that would have made Vesuvius blush.

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On Saturday, I was again awakened by the gentle touch of lips on my penis. Yet it was completely different. A day ago, it had been all about sex, and getting off. Today, we had shared our histories and held each other's secrets; today, we had a relationship. Back when she had been Heather, high priced call girl, she had feared that I would start having feelings for her. Now that she was Julie, my sugar baby, that had finally come to pass—and those feelings went in both directions.

It felt good to have her blowing me awake, but with all of my new of feelings for her, I wanted to be inside her. I assisted her in mounting me; as before, she bounced up and down on my cock, arching her back slightly to correct the angle of penetration. As before, I used my hands to touch her breasts, her torso, and especially her clit as she fucked me. Either I was getting a better sense of how to get her off, or with her new feelings for me it was easier to do, but this time I succeeded in thumbing her to orgasm before having my own deep insider her.

She bent over, keeping me inside her, and we kissed...and kissed...and kissed some more. Suddenly I realized that it was going to be very difficult to see her off tomorrow, back to Oklahoma City and back out of my life.

I made us breakfast. We didn't say much over our coffee, but we spent a lot more time touching each other in non-sexual places.

I asked her what she wanted to do today. She said she just wanted to chill for the morning, last night had been emotionally draining. She put on her bikini again, and I fetched two chairs from the shed. I set them up on the dock, and after applying suntan lotion all over her marvelous body, we lay out sunbathing.

After a couple of hours I asked if I could get her a drink. She rolled her head over lazily to look at me, nodding her head yes. She was heart-breakingly beautiful, lying in the sun.

I got us each a cold lemonade. Then I picked up my camera, digital SLR, and put it around my neck as I carried out our glasses.

"Can I take a picture of you?" I asked.

"Like this?" she asked, "or do you mean like this?" As she spoke she grabbed the fabric covering her left breast and pulled it away, flashing me her left tit, then put it away.