"Elsie, are you there?" Melinda's grating voice on the line makes me roll my eyes as I answer the phone.
"Yes, Melinda, I'm here. What do you want?" I could tell my voice sounded harsh. Who else would be answering the phone?
"You didn't call. Are you all right?" The way Melinda feigned concern for her girls was amazing. Her whiny coos didn't mesh with her mechanical business woman voice, cold and methodical.
"I'm fine. He still hasn't gotten here yet." I was filing away a rough edge on my fingernail and mentally counting the condoms in my drawer beside the couch.
"He's late." I couldn't tell if she was irritated with me or him but I brushed it off.
"I know," I said, finishing filing my nails and checking my teeth in the bathroom mirror. They had lipstick on them. I rubbed the red smudges off and smiled. I was having a good hair day after sleeping in rag curlers all night, tossing and turning. The big blonde curls were a perfect mixture of whore couture and innocence. I'd gotten ready in record time when Melinda called me 30 minutes before this client was supposed to be here which is barely enough time to apply a thick enough coat of waterproof mascara on a normal day. Had to go lighter on the make up for this one.
"You have another appointment at 5:30 for an all-nighter. Same place as last week."
"That place was a shit hole," I said, remembering watching a cockroach crawl across the lobby last week as I waited for him to arrive.
"It's supposed to be a nice hotel. Do you want me to alert the management?"
"The place has roaches, Melinda. I get paid too much to work in a place with roaches."
"You get paid to have sex. When you start getting paid to review hotels, maybe someone will care, Elsie."
"Right. I have to go, my client is here. I'll call you right back," I said, clicking the end button on my cell phone as the doorbell rang. I buzzed him up and waited at the door for him to knock.
As I opened the door, I was rather startled. The man standing at the door was not someone I was expecting. Not even close. Young. Twenty-five, tops. Designer clothes. Expensive shoes. Perfect sandy colored hair. His skin was creamy and absent of blemishes and his build was thin but muscular. I could tell he was a runner. This never happens; they're never this perfect.
There must be something wrong with him. He's got herpes. He's a wife beater. He drinks the blood of infants. There's always something wrong with the good looking ones.
"Hello," I said, still startled by his appearance. "I'm Elsie." I awkwardly put out a hand for him to shake. He took it briefly and we just stood there for a moment, staring at each other in the hallway of my apartment building.
"Charlie," he said. Deep voice but smooth like expensive chocolate. "You're a lot prettier than I thought you'd be."
"Well, thank you, I guess..." I said, unsure of whether that was a compliment or not.
We stood there for another moment before I realized how completely unprofessional I was being, leaving a client standing in the halls. "Oh God, I'm so sorry. Come in, make yourself comfortable." I stumbled over my words and I stepped aside and let him come in, closing the door behind him as he stepped inside. He looked uncomfortable, arms crossed, shoulders hunched. "Can I get you anything? Bottled water? Beer? Champagne?"
"Um. Water is fine." He seemed lost, standing in the middle of my apartment awkwardly clutching a white envelope in his hands. "Should I give you this now or—" He offered the envelope to me, extending his arm out. I took it from him and walked into the kitchen, pressing "call" on my cellphone to let Melinda know I was fine, while counting the cash before throwing the bills into a drawer with the rest of my money, and grabbing him a bottle of water.
As soon as I got off the phone with Melinda, I headed back into the living room where he looked lost and swallowed by my apartment.
"Here," I said, handing him the bottle, condensation dripping off the clear plastic. I gestured for him to sit down on the couch and he did.
"Thanks," he replied. "I... I've never done anything like this before."
"It's fine," I said. First timer. Nervous and shifty-eyed as if the cops are going to show up at any moment and cart the both of us off to jail.
"Don't worry, your secret is safe with me."
"No. I mean, I've never... done... anything... sexual."
A virgin. I knew there was something wrong with him. But he's too good looking to be a virgin. Perhaps he's lacking in the size department.
"Don't worry. We'll take it as slow as you need," I said, bending over and placing a hand on his shoulder. He swallowed hard, his Adam's apple bobbing slightly. He was looking down my dress, my breasts enclosed by a thin layer of black lace.
I smiled, knowing he liked what he saw, taking this opportunity to straddle him and push his back against the couch.
"I'm nervous," he whispered in my ear as I pressed my lips to his neck, feeling his smooth warm skin against my face.
"Don't be," I whispered back, my lips working up to his mouth where our tongues met. The warmth of his mouth was inviting and he tasted like peppermint gum, strong and cool. My lips moved down to the other side of his neck.
He was breathing harder as his hands came up and touched my breasts. He moved them further up and tugged at the straps of my silver dress.
"You want me to take this off?" I asked, playfully, moving away from him and pulling the zipper down the back. He watched longingly, like this is just a scene in another porno. "You can touch," I reassured, letting the silver fabric slip to the floor and watching his jaw hit the hardwood as well as I stood in front of him in my lingerie.
I spun around and let him enjoy the view, my breasts barely contained in a black lace bra and my sheer black panties left him speechless. He stood up and walked over to me, slipping his shoes off and reaching his arms up as I pulled at his shirt, tugging it up over his head. His dirty blonde hair flipped as I dropped his shirt to the floor in a heap. I liked his hair messy.
He reached behind me an unclasped my bra, releasing my breasts from their cage. He bent down and kissed my nipples, letting his tongue circle them slowly. The cool air hitting his warm saliva on my breasts made my skin prickle with goose bumps that ran up and down my body.
I could see his dick getting hard in his pants, a bulge forming as it tried to escape the confines of his navy blue trousers. I reached down and rubbed his hard member through the soft cotton fabric. His breath caught in his throat.
"I'm going to take care of you," I said.
He moaned softly, as I unbuttoned his jeans and let them slide to the floor. His boxers didn't stand a chance against his hard cock, the tip peeking out of the flap. I kneeled down on the floor and teased him, letting my tongue circle the head of his cock that had escaped his underwear. He groaned a little as I tasted the sweet precum.
He was already rock hard and I'd barely gotten started. I pulled down the black boxers and took his dick into my hand, sliding it up and down the long shaft. His dick was large, over eight inches, a rarity in my industry, where making a little guy feel bigger is my job as much as actually fucking him. I couldn't wait to take Charlie and make him my own; make him remember his first time forever.
"I don't want to cum too soon," he said as my lips wrapped around the tip of his dick, leaving a hot pink lipstick print around the head.
I let my tongue run down the length of his shaft, listening to him moan loudly as I massaged his balls gently with my fingertips and took as much of his dick as I could into my mouth. I don't have much of a gag reflex but he was bigger than I'm used to. His breathing was heavy; as I continued to move my head up and down, feeling his dick hitting the back of my throat each time my head went forward. I moaned with him, enjoying the taste of his sweet virgin cock in my mouth. I loved the way his cock felt velvety smooth against my tongue as my spit mixed with the salty taste of his precum.
