Call Me Vicki

Call me Vicki. That's Vicki with an "i". Or not. I suppose it's not too serious. That's not my real name, anyway. It's just one that usually pops into my mind when a client asks for my name. Which I do appreciate. It's mostly the older ones. The younger ones are usually satisfied with "honey", or "babe".

In case you missed the clue, I'm a part-time party girl...

"Hooker"

Pay no attention to the interruptions. That's Sly, my agent...

"Pimp"

Whatever. The guy that finds and vets clients for me and takes an inordinately large percentage of my earnings. He lacks class. Ignore him.

"Watch it!"

"I thought we had agreed on the terms," I said. "Don't forget, in real life I have a real job for a real law firm. You can at least fake some iota of respect." He just grinned.

Anyway, as I was saying before the unwarranted interruptions, call me Vicki. That'll do for now.

I thought you might be interested in listening to me reminisce, from time to time, about my more interesting clients. Full disclosure, though: I'll leave out the embarrassing parts and just talk about the ones I enjoyed and would like to share with you.

A bit of background, first.

I met Sly when a few college friends and I went pub crawling in the Village. Without going into details, we did a few things with Sly and his buddies that could have gotten us into a lot of trouble. A few weeks later Sly confronted me with damning evidence and told me what his 'fee' for 'losing' the evidence would be. Some would call it blackmail. Well, in any case, the price was way beyond what I could afford and yet keep it secret. So Sly generously offered me the opportunity to work it off. I just had to service him and a few paying clients he found for me. Long story short, after a few weeks and some interesting adventures I found I was pretty good at this stuff and actually enjoyed the work. Sly, who at first mocked me as an uptight spoiled "princess", reluctantly had developed respect for me, or at least for my talents. (He still calls me Princess, but the pejorative connotation is gone.) Eventually my debt was paid off, but then he casually asked if I might want to continue the partnership. Surprising both of us, I said yes. So, I keep my day job, but my nights are often fun, always interesting, and Sly and I have been doing quite well these last weeks. But I'm not about to quit my day job. Can't do this forever, you know.

Anyway, one night a week or so ago, after a rather pleasant session, when the satisfied client had left and Sly and I were distributing our (my) earnings, Sly said, "Princess, I got something unusual for you, if you're interested. The money's real good."

"When you ask me that way," I said, "it usually means something I'm not gonna like."

"Aww, Princess, have I ever pushed you into doing something you didn't eventually enjoy? Look, you gotta be willing to explore if we're ever gonna make big bucks."

"I don't need to make 'big bucks'," I said. "You do. I have a job. But okay, for laughs, what's the job?"

"That's my girl." Sly said with a disgustingly ingratiating smile.

"First of all, this is an outcall job."

"You mean I go to the client's place? Right away I don't like it. Too risky. Up to now you've always been here or at least in the next room. What if he's some kind of nut? Why should I risk my cute little ass now?"

"You let me worry about your cute little ass. I've checked the guy out," Sly assured me. "The setup sounds legit. And I made damn sure knows that if anything happens to you, I'm your insurance policy." Sly managed to put a lot of menace in his voice. He's a pretty big guy and has had a rough life. I guess I wouldn't want to get on his bad side. So okay so far.

"Besides," he added, "maybe it's time we took the training wheels off."

"All right. No promises, but I'm listening."

"Okay. Seems that this guy married this gorgeous piece, but she won't put out for him, at least not the way he wants her too. What he wants from you is a threesome where you work on the wife to distract her while he does her. Maybe too, you can show her how it's done and how much fun it can be."

"Sly," I said, "This sounds weird. Besides, I've never made it with a woman. I don't know if I want to start now. I like guys."

"Yeah, I know. But you don't know that you

won't

like it, do you? I mean, you've tried a fair amount of new stuff since we've been together. Have you ever gotten burnt?"

"Nooo, I suppose not. Does he really think this will work? Sounds to me more like they need a therapist. But okay, anyway, I'm in. It's his quarter. Tell me what I have to do. Oh, and before we go any further, tell me how much this is going to bring in. It'd better be good."

He told me.

It was.

Two nights later, dressed demurely (on the outside, at least), I took a cab uptown to the address Sly had given me. It was quite a place. Gorgeous brownstone in the upper East sixties. Lots of brass, wood, and big windows. After a minute or two while they presumably scoped me out through the doorbell camera, the front door was opened by a very handsome guy in his mid-forties, dressed in an expensive silk robe. That, at least, was promising. He looked me over very carefully. I apparently passed muster because he smiled and invited me in.

We passed through a spectacular living room and into the bedroom. Along the way the man asked, "I assume you know why you're here?"

"I'm told that you want me to help your wife get over her inhibitions. Am I correct?"

"Good," he said. "I didn't trust your pimp to get everything straight. Okay, let me introduce your subject."

Well, "subject" is not what I would like to be called by my husband (if ever I have one), and God help him if he did, but it wasn't my job to straighten my clients out on political correctness.

In the bedroom his wife was waiting, seated in a comfortable chair beside an enormous bed replete with pillows of various sizes. She looked very nervous. She stood up to greet me. I could immediately see why the guy married her. She was beautiful! The strange thing was that for the first time in my life I found myself appraising a woman not as competition, but as a man might. She had long, lustrous dark hair, gathered over her left shoulder, accentuating the swell of her breasts. She was wearing a diaphanous nightgown which only came down to her hips. She was naked below that. Her long legs ended in slippers with low heels that accentuated the curves of her calves. She had a very trim waist over wide, sensuous hips. Her breasts, unsupported by a bra, pushed delightfully against the fabric of her negligee, clinging to her nipples. They looked firm. I couldn't help but imagine how they would feel in my hands. Jesus, I was getting hot! This was really weird.

The husband made the introductions, and then, with a "Let's get started, shall we?" he proceeded to undress me. He moved slowly and sensuously, being careful not to get between me and the wife. I watched her eyes widen as he slid my blouse off and undid my bra from behind, letting it fall, dramatically revealing my breasts. Standing close behind me he cupped my breasts in his hands and tweaked my nipples into hardness. I let the wife see that I was enjoying it. (I was. No faking needed.) She stared at my breasts as if she'd never seen breasts before. He undid my skirt and let it drop around my feet. He began to stroke my pussy through my black nylon panties. His wife watched in utter fascination, listening as my breathing increased, watching the growing dark patch of moistness between my legs. God, if he didn't stop soon, I was going to cum in front of everyone!

But he knew what he was doing. He smiled at his wife and led me over to the bed. I lay back, my head and back supported on some of the pillows. Under the watchful eye of his wife, he arranged my arms and my hair in an attractive way. Then he slipped off my panties and spread my legs. He cupped my pussy again. This time I couldn't stifle a soft moan.

"Now, Irene, you try it," he said. His wife, who up to now seemed frozen, started to pull back. He gently took her hand and led her over to the bed and put her hand on my pussy. It felt strange, having a woman touch me there, but her hand was warm, and the fact that it was trembling a little was quite pleasant.

"There, darling," he said. "She's yours to explore. Go ahead. Kiss her breasts. Put your mouth on her pussy and taste her."

Gradually Irene seemed to be warming to the idea. I was anticipating a pretty good session, since I figured that if anyone would know the best spots on a woman it would be another woman. But then, as Irene fumbled at my vagina in a very tentative way, I remembered that it was actually men who had taught me more about my body than I had ever myself known. I'd had a couple of clients who had taken great pride in their ability to play my body like a fine violin. In the afterglow I had hated to take money from them. Sly, needless to say, had no such trouble.

So, I helped Irene a little. I guided her hand on my pussy, showing her how to massage it. I showed her fingers to my clit, and moaned when she squeezed it to let her know she was doing great. In fact, she actually was getting more and more confident in her moves. She climbed on the bed. Her husband took her head from behind and guided it to my pussy. She very tentatively began to lick me. Her tongue accidentally caressed my hardening clit and I involuntarily groaned and sighed. Her tongue slid into my wet vagina, tasting me. Her confidence growing by the second, she grasped my hips and lifted me into her face. She took my clit into her mouth and sucked on it and the world went away for a long time.

Through a very pleasant haze I heard the rustle of clothes as the husband undressed. One look at his distended cock let me know that he too had been enjoying the proceedings. That reminded me of why I was getting paid, though, and that I had better tend to my job and not lose myself in pleasant distraction.

I gently grasped Irene's head and guided her up to my breasts. She affixed herself to my left nipple and sucked on it while I stroked her hair and moaned softly. That left her kneeling between my legs, her lovely ass provocatively lifted into the air. Hubby didn't need a second invitation.

I felt the bed give as he climbed on. Irene was too far gone to notice. It wasn't until he grasped her hips and she felt his cock against her pussy lips that she reacted. But both hubby and I were too quick for her. I pulled her tight against my breast and cooed reassuringly to her. I stroked her hair. Her husband entered her. From her own exertions she was fully lubricated, so he slid in so very easily. She came off my nipple and gasped. But whatever inhibitions she might still have had no chance against her hormone-soaked brain.

"Let it cum, Love," I said to her. "Suck on my breast. Feel him inside you. Fell how good it is. How warm and full it is. Let yourself go."

I guided her mouth back onto my nipple. Her head moved back and forth with her husband's stroking into her, massaging my breast, which felt really good. After a minute she began to moan and mewl softly, and then with increasing energy. Her right arm reached around my body and held me into her. Her left hand grasped my right breast and squeezed it hard in her passion. I could hear the husband grunting and gasping as he neared his climax. Irene's whole body was moving, now. Her My nipple was wet with her saliva. She forgot to suck, drooling on my breast, her mouth wide and panting, lost in the sensations coming from her vagina. All three of us were rocking back and forth now, driven by her husband's forceful thrusts.

Finally, he came, deep in his wife's welcoming vagina. He moaned and shouted out as he came. For a second Irene seemed stunned, but in seconds the force of his ejaculations inside her, filling her with his hot semen pushed her over the edge. Her head rose up off my breast and she gave one long passionate moan and came, moaning and shuddering. I felt her tears on my breast.

At last, it was over. Her husband withdrew from her, but for minutes she lay on top of me, her head cradled between my breasts. The cool air on my wet breasts felt very good. I stroked her long hair, slowly bringing her down. Her ragged breathing slowed and regularized.

Irene rolled off of me, then, and lay there alongside me, breathing deeply. I opened my own eyes and looked up to see the husband, still kneeling, but still fully erect. He looked at his wife and then at me.

"Irene," he said, "that was very nice. But now I'd like one more thing. Suck me."

Irene rolled over enough to look at her husband. She looked confused. "I c-can't." she said. "You ask too much, too soon."

"I'm sorry, my love," he said. "But I need it. Let me show you."

With that he worked his way up the bed and grasped my head. His stiff cock jutted up, inches from my face.

"You'll do," he grated. "Show her how a professional does it."

Actually, truth to tell, he had a rather attractive cock, straight, of a goodly length and girth and nicely sculpted. I had to admit I wouldn't mind handling or sucking it. It looked so ready and still full, I had to stifle an urge to reach out and stroke it. To listen to him groan with ecstasy as I massaged it, and finally spurt his load. Still, this wasn't part of the deal, at least as I saw it. He had called me a professional, which was nice. But it meant professional standards, as in you abide by the terms of a contract. However, he

was

paying a hefty fee for my services. And you never want to disappoint a customer. To satisfy my standards, though, I gave him a hard look.

"Oh, Christ," he said, sounding exasperated. "I'll make it worth your while. Now open up."

So, okay, then. I smiled up at him, ran my tongue seductively over my lips and parted them slightly. It was enough. In a second his hard cock was pressing against my lips, insistently spreading them further. I didn't resist. He was still lubricated from his wife's secretions, so he slid into me very easily. For a few seconds his engorged cock rested on my tongue, pulsing in time with his heartbeat. I could taste his pre-cum mixed with lingering musky notes of Irene's vagina. I closed my eyes to concentrate on the sensations. I fastened my lips on his hard maleness, just aft of the head and sucked gently. He moaned and began to slide in and out of me. I could feel his cock swell and harden more with each stroke.

That's when I got a surprise. I felt soft hands tentatively spreading my legs. I relaxed and let it happen, even helping. The next thing I knew, Irene was at my pussy, licking and sucking on my clit, pushing my labia apart with her fingers and probing me with her tongue. My God, it felt good. Between the hard warm cock in my mouth with its promise of hot jets of cum, and the soft warm tongue in my vagina, I was rapidly ascending to heaven. It took all my concentration to keep up my end and not just lie back and let them do all the work. But then, like the man said, I'm a professional. So, I kept sucking in time with the thrusting cock. With one hand I reached up and grabbed the husband's ass and encouraged him, pulling him deeper into me, while with the other hand I pushed Irene's head tighter into my nether region. My hips thrust up to meet her face. Oh my God, life was getting better by the minute!

As I'm sure you can imagine, this wasn't going to last long. I heard Hubby groan. His cock swelled even more. It felt enormous in my mouth. I felt a thrill of anticipation course through me, knowing what was coming in the next few seconds. His strokes into me got faster and faster. Then he grabbed my head with both hands in a vise-like grip and came into me. I don't know how much he had given his wife earlier, but he sure had a lot left for me. Again and again he came, his hot semen jetting into me, rapidly filling my mouth with its warm salty taste. With my head backed up against the pillows and held rigid by him, I had a hell of a time swallowing fast enough to keep from choking on his voluminous cum. But just then Irene's newly talented tongue hit my sweet spot and I stopped caring about choking or, for that matter, anything else, while the magic fire raged through me. I knew I was squirting onto Irene's face, but that was her problem. I was focused on her husband's cock and its beautiful warm load of sperm. It seemed I couldn't get enough of it. I hung on and sucked for all I was worth, draining him, while above me he moaned and groaned and threw back his head in ecstasy.

Sadly, all good things must someday end, and this was no exception. Hubby finally ran out of ammo. He bonelessly fell back, his softening cock coming out of my mouth with an audible pop. He barely avoided crushing his wife, who had to quickly pull out from between my legs and brace herself and shrug her uncaring husband off. Me, I just collapsed into the pillows, mindless of the semen coating my lips and chin. All three of us just lay there in a tangle, breathing heavily, with beatific smiles on our faces.

Coming slowly back to the real world, I absently swallowed the last of the sperm in my mouth and looked down between my breasts the length of my torso. I saw Irene smiling sheepishly up at me. Her face glistened with my cum.

"What the hell," I said, catching my breath, "was that?"

"Did you like it?" she said with a coy smile. "

I

did. I wanted a little more, and I felt I kind of owed you a favor. I hope you didn't mind."

Duh.

"No, Luv, I didn't mind. You're sweet to ask. And yeah, I liked it. A lot"

She smiled fetchingly from between my legs. Privately I wondered if Irene hadn't learned something for her husband's money that he hadn't expected.

Do you wonder why I like this job?