While I valued my alone time, the good thing about being a 'looker' is there's never been a shortage of interested parties when I need one. Men look and can't look away, their imaginations likely going wild.
It must really be a struggle, especially when they're with their wives, to lock in on my goods and have to do what I understand to be creative staring. It is apparently an actual skill.
They might be thinking, 'Man, I'd like to fuck that girl over there' and then go about staring...but not staring. A customer told me once that it involved taking a brief mental snapshot, savoring the picture, and then looking again, This is all going on surreptitiously while carrying on a conversation with the wife/girlfriend, "Do you think this looks good on me?".
FYI, there's only one answer to that question.
If you're a girl like me, you love clothes because being purposefully dressed accentuates the positive. Just like the black tights have an effect on every drooling hang dog, I love attractive fashion and have the closet to prove it.
So, naturally, I spend a lot of time in clothing stores. And so do horny men taking mental snapshots of me. Some end up as customers, some wish I was their girlfriend, some have the strength to resist.
Once, I was shopping at a high end boutique which had numerous women followed around by their reluctant but dutiful partners. Most men highly value what I refer to as the 'guy waiting around' chairs or sofa. It's the first thing they look for and it's agony when they're occupied.
These are a treasure trove of high visibility and potential income for a working girl.
In this example, I lingered around their sight line and held things up to me and occasionally dropped something that I'd have to immodestly bend over to retrieve in an extremely short skirt. I noticed they either watched or ran over to pick the item up for me.
The watchers hoped for a possible panty fringe sighting but the helper was aiming higher.
"Here, let me get that," he said sweetly.
"Oh thank you. I almost need a man to follow me around."
"Well that shouldn't be a problem for you. If my girlfriend wasn't in the changing room I'd be glad to apply for the position."
Then I opened the innuendo door very wide and said cheekily, "There are a lot of positions to choose from. Would that be your favorite?"
Caught slightly off guard he changed the subject, "You'd look beautiful in that dress."
"Do you think so?"
"I do, of course you'd look beautiful in anything."
"Well aren't you the flatterer." I smiled that smile that grabbed him by the balls.
He looked around to see if his girlfriend came out and then wrote something on the back of his business card, "Take this and call me if the mood strikes." After they left the store I looked at it, "Lunch, and...?"
His name was Brad and I texted him the next day. "Thought I'd take you up on your kind lunch offer though I'd be remiss not to mention the $300 fee for the 'and' part. Still interested?"
He texted me back quickly, 'I paused for a long moment at the 'fee' but then remembered how gorgeous you were. Basically, my cock is taking you to lunch.' I laughed when I read it. He texted the time and place. I wore a yellow, off the shoulder, empire waist dress and I'd be lying if I said I looked anything other than fabulous.
We met at the restaurant and he kissed me on the cheek. We had a great conversation over the meal, sometimes even touching on my career choice, and then he mused that for such a wonderful lunch date it was somewhat unreal that I was a call girl.
"Such are the mysteries of life," I said.
"I suppose it takes the pressure off desperately trying to get you into bed."
I teased him, "Oh! I didn't know you had that on your mind. So you wanted to get me loose on wine and then fuck me?"
We walked to his office downtown, very close to where we'd had lunch and he kept a spare room for just the occasion. I couldn't guess how many women he might have had there but now he had me.
I explained that I eventually had to get home to walk Sasha but he said, "For the money I'll take my time. We'll finish when my cock is done with you. Strip, Haley, and let me see what I fantasized about last night."
I gave him a show that any seasoned stripper would have been proud of and initially he was tender with me but soon that gave way to a desire for dominance. Pulling me to my knees he never stopped talking, revealing his every thought about me. "You're so beautiful it will be a treat to take you like a sex doll." He forced his cock down my throat and gently patted my cheeks. He occasionally released his hold so I could get a breathe and then resume face fucking me.
"I still can't understand how a girl like you became a hooker. You could have any man you wanted."
Still gasping for a breath, "That's the point. I like fucking them but I don't want one of my own."
"Lie face down on the bed, legs slightly apart," he instructed me.
I felt the cold of the lubricant on my anus and prepared for the initial discomfort of the entry. He was taking advantage of his purchase. This definitely wasn't the girlfriend approach.
"I love a good ass fuck, don't you?"
He straddled me and eased the head of his cock into my hole. "Ohhhhh...ahhhhhhh"
"Nice and tight," as he found a comfortable rhythm.
He went deeper and with more energy and I felt that good feeling build in my belly. He slapped my ass and the feeling grew. "Fuck me, Brad...harder."
"You are a horny bitch, aren't you?"
"Oh fuck, ya, I love your cock in me," and then the surge of pleasure poured out everywhere and I was in heaven. He kept banging my ass for awhile and then withdrew and had me go cowgirl on him.
"I like you riding me so I can see that pretty face of yours." He reached up and took a couple handfuls of my delicious tits while I bounced my bottom on his boner. In no time at all I orgasmed again.
When he came close to climax I dismounted and dropped to my knees and he unloaded on my face, his jizz dripping from my chin.
"Pretty as a picture," he said, admiring his artwork.
***
When I got home Sasha was all over me, probably picking up the strong scent of sex. "Okay, girl, we're going out. Just let me wash my face." After reapplying my makeup I checked my messages.
