It was Friday at Two and I had Jack on top of me again. I could feel his large demanding penis filling my pussy, drawing the juices out of my flesh on each slight withdrawal, and then pressing down tight into my ever wetter channel.
I know that I should be tired of all this and that I should be glancing at the watch on the wrist of the arm which was stretched around his neck, but Jack was such an expert. There was nothing he didn't know about pleasing a woman, and, I don't know, maybe his member was just the perfect fit for me. No. I was not looking at my watch. My arms were locked about his neck, and my legs were locked around his buttocks, and it was unbelievably perfect. I wondered if his wife really appreciated the treasure she had.
"OOOOHHHHH," I moaned. I don't usually moan like that. I mean, I do, but usually it's fake and I moan to excite them and get them moving faster so they'll finish faster and get the hell off of me, and get out of my flat, so that I can have a few minutes to myself with a cool glass of lemonade and a cigarette. But, oh, what Jack was doing to me. That I was getting such pleasure and getting paid for it as well. Well, God is good.
"You like that, baby?" he asked me.
"You know I do," I told him. I also knew that it was time for some dirty talk. Jack loved dirty talk. Jack was a dirty guy, and I loved it. "Give me your cock. Give me your big cock. I love the feel of your big cock in my hot pussy, honey. Oh. Give it to me. Fuck me. Fuck me."
"That's just what I'm doing, baby. Am I the best you ever had?"
Men! They're all so insecure. They always need assurance. But he was the best. I looked forward all week long to Fridays at Two.
"Oh, baby. You're the best. No one else does it like you do. I love the feel of your big cock inside my tight wet pussy. Fuck me. Fuck me."
He shut my mouth by planting his lips over it and thrusting his peppermint tongue inside. I had his tongue in my mouth, his hands on my breasts, and his cock in my pussy. "AAAARRRGGGHHH," I screamed, coming to my second orgasm within five minutes. "Don't stop. Don't stop," I pleaded. I wanted more. And I still had twenty minutes before I had to wash up and get ready for Bill at Three.
"Sorry, baby. Here it comes." With that, he started slamming it into me. Then he held still as I could feel it pulsating inside me, shooting out jets of hot cream.
"Oh. That was so wonderful," I breathed into his ear, running my fingers through his hair as he collapsed on top of me in a sweaty heap. And in a few minutes he would peel off five one hundred dollar bills for me. I really loved my job.
I wasn't always a prostitute. God! How I hate that word. I went to University and studied psychology, and became interested in human sexuality. I got my masters degree and even my PhD. Yes, darlings, you can call me Doctor. At first I was just doing psychotherapy with my patients. Letting them sit in a chair and talk to me. But I felt I could be doing so much more. So I became a licensed Sex Therapist and Surrogate.
I had not had much sex myself in my early years. I had been too busy studying. But I found now that as a surrogate I was getting pleasure as well as giving pleasure to the patient. I would talk to them, try to ease their fear or anxiety and help them to achieve and maintain an erection in whatever way I could. Then I would let them practice on me. I was preparing them for the fierce sexual competition in the outside world, and fortuitously at the same time getting laid myself.
I did this for a couple of years, but then I started wanting better sex. These men were so timid and unsure of themselves. I wanted to be with men who loved pussy, who knew how to give a woman pleasure, who knew how to fuck. Thus, I gave up the pretense of therapy, and decided to let real men fuck me for money. The best decision I have ever made.
"What time is it, baby?" Jack asked me.
"Two forty," I said.
"Do I have to leave yet?"
"Well. I do have a three o'clock. You'd better wash up and start getting dressed."
"Is that the same guy I see as I'm leaving every week? You introduced us once. Bill?"
"Yes. Bill is my steady Three o'clock."
"Is he as good as I am?" he asked me in a little boy voice, his brow furrowing.
"Jack. No one is as good as you are." And that was the truth. Jack was dynamite in bed. I loved having his cock inside me. And he was so handsome. Over six feet tall, and well muscled from going to the gym three times a week, and he had the most perfect features. Apparently he was just too much for his wife, who didn't want it all that often. The fool! Well, she had the ring, and the big house and the expensive car, and the country club membership. But I had her husband's dick. Every Friday at Two.
"You were telling me that you used to be a surrogate?" Jack asked me.
"That's right. I'm licensed by the state to do what I do. Isn't that convenient?
"Yeah," he laughed. "I was just wondering..." and his words trailed off. He suddenly looked troubled.
"What is it, Jack? What's wrong?" I questioned him.
"It's my son. I'm worried about my son."
"Why? What's the problem?"
"Well, he's eighteen years old and he's about to go to college, and I don't think he has any experience. He never goes out on a date or anything. He just stays in his room and reads all the time, or watches television. He's nothing like me. When I was his age I had a dozen girlfriends, and I'd fucked them all."
"Maybe, he's just a late bloomer," I said.
"Maybe. But I was thinking, maybe he could benefit from having a beautiful slightly older lady such as yourself guide him along the way."
"What a delightful idea!" I cried, clapping my hands. Jack's son. How perfect! To get an eighteen-year-old version of Jack in my bed. That was too good to be true.
"So, you'd do it?" he asked me.
"I'd be glad to," I told him. "The only trouble is 'when?' I'm booked solid."
"You are?" he asked. He was clearly disappointed.
"Yes. I want to do it for you, Jack. The only problem is time. I don't know when I could fit him in."
"Well, I could give him my time for a few weeks, until he goes to college," he suggested.
"Fridays at Two? Well, yes. If you wanted to give him your slot that would be fine."
"But he has to think that you're a therapist, and a surrogate. You can't let him know that I'm fucking you. If he ever told his mother........."
"Have no fear, Jack. I'll paper the wall with my diplomas and licenses. I will be very professional. I promise you," I told him.
"Well, okay, then. I think I'd like to do that. I'll check with him and see if he would be willing. I'll tell him that someone recommended this nice, very pretty lady who is a sex therapist and surrogate, and that he can practice on her. That it will be good experience for him. I don't see why he wouldn't agree, but I'll call you," he told me as he pulled up his pants and zippered them, finally cinching his leather belt. He spoke loudly, as I had gone into the bathroom to wash up for my next appointment, Bill.
Jack was still combing his thick black hair, when the doorbell rang, and I opened it for Bill. They had met before at Three p.m., and I didn't see that there would be any harm in it. Jack on the way out. Bill on the way in. It was like a revolving door. I was a master of efficiency.
"Jack. You know Bill. Bill. You know Jack," I said as they passed each other in my doorway.
"Yeah, hi Bill," said Jack.
"Good to see you again," said Bill, always the perfect gentlemen, and they shook hands. Then Jack was gone and Bill and I were alone together. I took off my robe, and then I started to undress him. Bill always liked it when I undressed him. He told me he thought it was so sexy. And naturally, the minute his pants and boxers dropped I was on my knees to stimulate his thickening dick.
"Oh, suck my cock, baby. Suck it. You know how I love a good blowjob."
I took my mouth off his cock to say 'yes," and then he climbed onto the bed with his erection pointing at the ceiling. I crawled between his knees to continue my task.
"Oh, you're so good, Zelda. You give the best head."