When I left Darren's apartment that first night it felt like things were all coming together. I had a stable roof over my head, I'd just had the best sex of my life and I had enough cash to put food on the table. Even if Darren was not always so generous with his tips, pretty much any job I got would be enough to get us through.
And I knew Pedro couldn't fuck this up. I hated to think this way, but reality is that in the past I hoped he wouldn't ruin things, but I had no real means of keeping him from doing so. I was more in control now and I wouldn't let it happen again.
Within a week I had found a job as a commissioned salesperson at a high-end shoe store. Those were always the best jobs for me. I could charm and hustle with the best of them especially when selling something that I genuinely appreciate.
Over the next few months things continued along the same path. Every Thursday night I got fucked by Darren. He continued to be generous with his tips and the clothes he bought for me. Beyond the things that he bought me to wear for him he started including jewelry and regular wear clothing. I was also making decent money at the shoe store, and we even managed to save some, which I had to keep away from Pedro or he would have pissed it all away.
Pedro was usually in bed by the time I came home on Thursday nights. The rest of the time we carried on as though I wasn't another man's whore. I gave him more sexual attention and even managed to communicate to him that he would be a better lover if he was more enthusiastic about giving oral sex. I say "managed" because he had never been open to criticism, and I assumed that the circumstances with Darren would make him less receptive. Plus, until recently I hadn't put in much effort on that front either, so I was in no position to be critical. To my surprise he turned out to be quite receptive and I was soon coaching him through how I liked to have my pussy licked while honing my cock sucking skills on him.
My libido was in overdrive. I had always considered myself a very sexual person, but that was accompanied by a sort of imposter syndrome because my sexual experience was so limited. Moreover, the sexual experience that I did have was quite one-sided -- I had been all about receiving and not much giving. Now that I had finally gotten out of my own way, I found that servicing a man is at least half the fun. My desire knew no bounds and my propensity to project that desire through the clothes I wore, and my flirtatious behaviour increased many times over.
After three months, Darren was still an enigma. I knew very little about him. I guess I never really had known much about him. When we were younger, I was too self-involved to ask, and he never told me much. In those days he was an upper middle-class guy who usually came to see me in my lower middle-class neighbourhood. I met a few of his friends at parties and vice versa, but we mostly spent time together with me finding places to get him to lick my pussy. Now as a grown-up I knew he had a lot of money and a good job, but that was it. When we were together it was always warm and friendly, but the "getting to know one another" part was all sex, which was just fine with me.
I won't describe every Thursday night during this period. However, I will offer a sample of some of the experiences that resonated with me.
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When I showed up at Darren's penthouse for the fifth Thursday in a row, we had settled into a wonderful rhythm of enjoying one another's bodies. However, I had yet to even venture beyond the main living area, the bedroom where I changed into my outfits and the adjacent bathroom. To be honest, I hadn't given it much thought. I was bought and paid for and really revelled in being submissive and slutty just the way he liked. I was curious to know more, but I sort of liked the mystery too. And I was intentionally ensuring that I never overstepped. I was an enthusiastic whore, and I had a good thing going. I wasn't going to do anything to risk it.
On this night my outfit consisted of a lace up front leather bustier (lots of cleavage), leather garter (waist and thigh straps but no actual stockings), strappy leather heels (nude look so minimal coverage) and a thick leather collar. As I looked at myself in the mirror, I really appreciated the merits of seeing the esthetician every Thursday afternoon. I was always a girl who was put together well, but the extra level of pampering always made me feel just a bit extra special before I visited Darren and ensured that I was done up just the way he liked.
When I walked out to where he was waiting in the main living area, he clipped a leash onto my collar. Then he gave me a full tour of his penthouse. It was very large. He had a movie viewing room. Games room. A large office. Even a cigar lounge. And a sex dungeon of sorts. Dungeon is the wrong word because there was nothing dark or creepy about it, but he clearly had a very large selection of sex toys and pieces of equipment for restraint amon g other things. Along the way I noticed some pictures of family, which filled in a few of the blanks. But he didn't stop anywhere long or offer up much in the way of details.
The last stop on the tour was a large terrace. There was a deep day bed out there. He led me to it, outside in the open and on a leash. He had me lay across it on my back and attached leather cuffs to my ankles and wrists, which clipped onto the rails on either end of the day bed. It is a good thing I am flexible because the result was that my arms were spread straight out perpendicular from my body and my legs were spread out the same way. I was like a big sideways 'H'. It seemed like he was always finding new ways to have me spread my legs for him in the most lascivious manner.
This was early summer so there was still lots of daylight and there was little doubt that anyone looking out of the taller buildings around us had a full view of me spread out like Darren's pussy buffet. It was mostly office towers, so chances are most people were gone for the day and the closest residential towers were further away. There was no definitive reason to believe I was being watched, but it was a distinct and exciting possibility.
"I'll be right back." He said then walked away. He just left me there, now panting with excitement all hard nipples and exposed soaking wet pussy.
He returned a moment later with two glasses of red wine. He took a sip from one of the glasses then put them both on a nearby table. Then he got down on his knees between my legs to inspect my grooming. This had become a little ritual we did together with the fact that he always started our sessions by spreading me out and licking me to orgasm. The "inspection" always ended with effusive praise and complements.
"Spectacular as always Leti. You have always had the sweetest pussy."
Darren reached out and started to rub my clit in a circular motion with his thumb. I let out a low guttural moan. Not only did I not care if anyone saw us, but part of me also wanted to put on a show. The way Darren would spread me out and shower me with appreciation made me feel like a sexual goddess and stripped away my already minimal inhibitions. It made me want to share that visual with others. I wanted there to be someone watching.
"You like being spread out, don't you my little slut?"
I nodded vigorously as I groaned. "Un huh."
"You have always been a slut haven't you Leti? That is what I always liked about you. Even back in those days of youthful confusion you couldn't wait to let me get into this coochy. I bet you let all the boys lick you didn't you Leti?"
"No. I didn't." I said honestly.
"But you wanted to, didn't you honey?"
"Yes." I nodded.
"It was always just a matter of time. Now that you have opened up you will soon be making up for lost time....spreading your legs every chance you get."
"Yes." I said now unsure if he was really making a prediction or just toying with me.
"Good girl." He said, then leaned in to lick my pussy while he put his middle finger inside and tweaked my g-spot.
My body shuddered and I unconsciously pulled against my restraints. Something about the way they held me in this position seemed to signal to my body a need for full release. I started trembling all over in a way that had never happened before, and I desperately wanted his dick in me.
"Please fuck me. I love your fingers and your tongue, but I need your dick in me now. Please. Please." I pleaded almost in tears. The trembling merged with a minor orgasm that promised to explode if only he would put his dick in me or consume me if he didn't.
Sensing my genuine urgency Darren hastily stripped off his clothes. Without the usual slow build-up, he seized me by the waist and plunged his long fat cock into me. I had been able to take all of him by the end of our 2nd Thursday, but it always required a slow approach. This time I took him easily and I wanted it hard and fast.
"Fuck me hard. I am your slut. I am your whore. I am yours. Please fuck me harder."
Darren picked up the pace until he was plowing me hard and fast. I knew he wouldn't last long like that, but neither would I. My trembling turned to minor convulsions. Pleasure swept over my body and led to pressure in my nether regions that I had never felt before. I began to squirt, and Darren pulled out to let it flow freely like a gusher. Darren rubbed my clit and that seemed to help release the full gusher. I was screaming and panting as it exploded out of me.
When my orgasm subsided he put his manhood back into my slutty wet pussy and fucked me with long hard strokes, but not the frantic pace of before. I rode the last of that orgasm, my most powerful to date, while I felt his cum coating my insides.