Loss of Amateur Status

To fully understand the context of this narrative I would recommend you read "Loss of Amateur Status. Part One."

*****

In the days leading up to it, the thought of 4pm next Thursday was never far from my mind. I was looking forward to the encounter but I could not really define my motivations. It certainly wasn't simply the money though $100 for an hour or so of my time was appealing. It wasn't even the sex really although I would gladly bang the old bitch again. I concluded it was as much a matter of curiosity as anything else. What was she expecting from me? Was it just sex and if so was it romantic and sensual or steamy and passionate? Or maybe just totally dispassionate. Simply a primitive, primordial release.

These notions were still swilling around in my head as I rang her door bell. The door opened just a little too quickly and I was presented with her attractive but austere visage. She was wearing a smart trouser suit that exuded expense.

"You are late", she sniffed. I rolled my eyes. It must be all of 4.02pm.

"Look Ms. Satterthwaite, if you are going to persist in being such a harridan, this arrangement is going to be void before it has even started." I turned to leave.

"No, no, please don't go." She clutched my forearm with both her hands. She had an air of desperation. She lowered her eyes and murmured. "I was just trying to provoke you. I liked it when you were... forceful with me last time."

Light bulb moment! She wanted to be dominated! Forced to submit to my terrible urges. Maybe even humiliated. OK, now we had a playing field. Let the game begin!

I slowly lifted my hand and cradled her chin. I raised it up so that she had no choice but to look me in the eyes. I loomed over her and replied, "Very well"

She let out a sigh of relief but then gasped when she felt my hands on her shoulders. I pushed her down onto her knees. She looked puzzled at first but then she grasped my intention. Her voice trembled, "I don't... I have never..."

"Undo the belt, lower the zip." I directed quietly. I could see that she was biting her lower lip as she complied. She pulled my trousers down and then hesitated before hooking her thumbs into the waist band of my underpants. As she lowered them, my cock cantilevered out proudly. She gasped and seemed transfixed by the sight. She slowly raised a hand and took hold of my penis between a thumb and two fingers. Her pinky finger was sticking up like a posh English person drinking tea. She examined it minutely.

After a minute or so of this inspection I became a little impatient. I placed my hand behind her head and clutched a handful of her short salt and pepper hair. As I drew her head forward she baulked but her resistance was futile. The knob of my dick bobbed up and down in front of her face in what I thought was a very enticing manner. She seemed to disagree. I placed my other hand under her chin and drew her forward. She flinched as my piece brushed her lips.

"Open wide now Ms. Satterthwaite, there's a good girl." She flashed me a menacing glare but proceeded to open her mouth. I pulled her forward and a penis entered her mouth for what I gathered was the first time ever.

She then proceeded to give me the worst blow job of my life. She seemed to think that simply holding the glans of my dick passively in her mouth and running her fingers along its length was sufficient. She was a bit careless with her teeth as well. I could see that she was in the need of a vigorous training program but that could wait.

I lifted her to her feet and backed her over to the adjacent dining table. I boosted her up onto it and pressed her down onto her back. I raised her legs and dragged off her slacks. She was wearing rather sexy lace knickers. She must have been expecting company. These too were dispensed with and I was once again presented with her trimmed little patch. I had wondered about her manicured pubic hair. I couldn't imagine that men regularly saw her naked but I guess it was a reflection of her general fastidiousness.

I lifted her legs so that her ankles were over my shoulders. "Guide me in" I instructed. Compliantly she reached down and grasped my prick and guided it to her little honey pot. I started giving her slow, very shallow thrusts. After a minute or so she began to try to thrust herself towards me. She looked up at me with a quizzical look. "Is there something you want Ms. Satterthwaite?" I asked, as I continued to control my movements so only the first inch of me was entering her.

"You bastard" she hissed. I lunged forward and she squealed. I settled into a nice pussy pounding rhythm that was punctuated by her cries and gasps. I was thoroughly enjoying myself and from what I could decipher of her exclamations, so was she.

I took the opportunity to make a little exploration of her chest. Our first encounter had been clothed from the waist up so I was quite curious about her bust. I massaged them judgmentally through her silk blouse. My first impressions were very favorable. I started tugging her top up and she responded by finishing the removal herself. I was a little surprised that this revealed that she was not wearing a bra but regardless, it was a carnal joy to finally become acquainted with her breasts. They were quite full and nicely rounded but the most striking feature were her nipples. They were so prominent they could poke an eye out. I experimentally rolled one and then both between my thumbs and fingers and was repaid with a husky moan. I tightened my grip to a pinch and she gasped in what appeared to be a delicious mixture of pain and pleasure.

We continued on in this manner for several more minutes. I soon detected her movements were becoming more agitated and her vocalizations more strident. No prizes for guessing

where she was headed. As a generous gesture I redoubled my efforts at both hip and hand level. This unintentionally brought me closer to the boiling point but with a shriek and a buck she overtook me. If that wasn't an orgasm, I'll eat my underpants. I momentarily stilled but she urged me on like a rider encouraging a horse to trot so, not wanting to be rude, I continued ploughing her furrow.

After a minute or so she had recovered and was now staring intently as I worked my way to my own completion. A slightly smug look was playing across her face which somehow raised my ire. The pompous bitch thought she was back in control. Something must be done.

I leant forward and pinned her with a hand around her neck. I withdrew from her vagina and lined myself up with a target a little lower than that. I watched her closely as I nudged forward. I could clearly see the moment when she realized that I was about to fuck her arse. She had clearly ruled this off limits the first time we had fucked.

She attempted to struggle but I had effectively pinioned her to the spot.

I murmured casually, "Is this forceful enough for you Ms. Satterthwaite?" It took me a couple of attempts as she was clenching herself to deny me entry but I eventually entered what I discovered to be a very tight little orifice. She wailed. Her face was now flushed beet red and she began panting like a steam engine. The feeling was physically and emotionally exquisite. I had complete command of this controlling witch. I would have liked to have lasted a little longer but after a couple of minutes I gave up to my baser motivation and came inside her.

Again the dilemma. What to do now? I backed away and began to dress myself. I looked down at her as I did so. She was holding her head in her hands and I could clearly hear her ragged panting. My cum was starting to pool on the table as it leaked out of her reddened anus. Had I gone too far or would she be satisfied with this?

My question was answered when she got down from the table and limped over to a side table. When she turned to face me she offered a $100 note and asked quietly if I could return next Thursday. I smiled and agreed. I was a fucking professional. A professional fucker.