I have what you might call an interesting job. Most of my clients are nice people, often wealthy, often with very strange interests, but there are a handful of experiences that I'll remember forever. One of them was bathing in a tub full of milk and letting an older man scrub me down. Another was dressing up in a giant octopus costume complete with silicone tentacles. And another was when a client invited me over to eat cake, which turned out to involve a 3 tier cake, my anus, and a huge fucking mess. But, although I don't know it yet, the most memorable is just about to happen.
You probably guessed it: I am in fact an escort. Despite the occasional odd request (please god no more anus cake), I love my work. I get to meet cool people, have lots of sex, often better the lives of others through providing sex, and I never felt unsafe in the 2 years I've been doing it. I'm only 26, so I don't know how long I'll want to do it, but I'm happy so far. Today I get a certain booking request from a certain "Client 762" through my agency website. His profile indicates that his first name is Jacob, and... that's all I know. It's agency policy for the escorts to meet the clients blindly, although the agency verifies client identities and legitimacy. I accept the request to meet him tomorrow night at 9 PM at the Westfield Inn up town.
It's now the following night, and I just got ready to meet my client. I make it to the hotel at 9 PM sharp and go up to the room; I knock on the door and moments later it opens, with a man in a white hotel robe behind the door. "Come in," he says.
I walk in and greet him, "My name is Damian, which you probably know." I reach out for a handshake and he obliges, responding, "Jake."
He gives a firm handshake. I look closely at his eyes... such a deep gaze, I think. His eyes, a light shade of brown, glistening in the soft hotel room light. I look more closely at him: a handsome 40-something face, hair light brown and neatly short, his stubble a light veil over a masculine jaw. Probably married, I think to myself. A tight physique hidden under a half-done bath robe, his calves thick and lightly furry. My subtle stare climbs up from his calves to his knees, and I notice his robe is just open enough that I can almost see up his thigh.
"Nice to meet you, Jake. How was your day?" I ask, genuinely curious.
"Uh, fine," he goes, "Just in town for a business trip, thought I'd get some company..." He then seems to interrupt himself, "Look, before anything happens I want to be sure that this is very discreet." I now notice his face has slightly tensed up.
"You are guaranteed total confidentiality," I reassure him, "I would never divulge anything to anyone about any client, it's agency policy." I hate sounding so formal. "You're in good hands." I say with a coy smile.
He still holds a smileless face and says, "I'm straight." Yes, I figured that, buddy. "I'm actually married." Ding ding ding, I guessed correctly. Another straight guy with a secret fantasy probably trapped in a sexless marriage and with balls bluer than the ocean, just dying for some release.
"That's completely fine," I reply, committing to my subtle smile, "I have many straight clients and I can't report a single disappointment." He seems a bit relieved at that remark. "Just relax. And know that you can completely back out if you're uncomfortable, I wouldn't even charge you." It's common for clients to get cold feet and it's my job to allow them to get the most of what they're paying for. I step closer to him, less than foot between us, and search his face for consent. His face relaxes a bit, and I can see the lust in his eyes resurface as his stare sinks down from my eyes to my waist.
He then slowly undoes his robe and lets it fall open, revealing his gorgeous body. Although I'm a professional, I feel my own lust start to build up in my loins; I don't often get hot, hunky straight men like Jake. I can't help but indulge in staring, my eyes taking in his built shoulders and thick biceps, his square pecs that are peppered with light brown hairs, pink nipples placed perfectly above the lower edge of his pecs, his slightly ridged stomach with a soft treasure trail that leads to a trimmed groin.
I feel my mouth water. He has gorgeous skin, not a freckle in sight. I drop down to be eye-level with his crotch. My fingers touch his thick calves and slowly slide up to wrap around his thighs. God bless these thick thighs! My hands closely feel the tight hamstrings at the back and my eyes feast on the defined quads in front, all only slightly furry and soft to the touch.
Then there's the glorious cock. What a sight. I've seen my share of cocks but this one might be the prettiest cock I've yet seen. A good six or seven inches of meaty goodness. It's already hard and pointed toward my face. The short hairs at the base subtly lead to a thick shaft that is adorned with two veins at the hilt and continues into a smooth rod, perfectly symmetrical. A thick under-pipe extends from the ballsack all the way to the glans, which is elegantly ridged and leads to a bulbous, glistening pink head.
Fuck. Without hesitation, I extend my eager tongue out to lick the tip of the head. I lick the little opening then lick around the head, just to tease it.
My hand then cups the back of his balls, very soft and cleanly shaved, just as my lips engulf the head and quickly devour the length of his cock. I do this as I play with his balls in my hand, feeling his nuts dance with my fingers inside his sack, responding to my tickling touch. My lips are feeling every vein on the terrain of his shaft, and my tongue is sensitive to the smooth texture of his head. So fucking delicious.
