To fully understand the context of this narrative, I would recommend you read "Loss of Amateur Status." Parts One through to Five.
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When I next saw Agatha a few days later, she surprised me. She had a list of four appointments over the course of the coming week! I was really on the game! A couple of weeks later she bought me a smartphone that synced with her computer. When I visited her on Friday afternoon, all I had to do was drop it into its cradle and my appointments for the coming week would be uploaded into Outlook on the phone. All the names, times and addresses plus any background info she had, especially if it was a new client. She regularly included information regarding any special desires or preferences a client might have. For example the client might want a romantic "boyfriend" style experience or maybe she desired to be dominated to some degree. Fairly frequently, there was a role play element where I might play, for example, the escaped convict or policeman or pool boy. I am sure part of Agatha's sales pitch actively encouraged clients to live out their own erotic fantasies. I had an interest and background in amateur dramatics so that was just icing for me.
Next to the computer she normally also had a printout of all the previous weeks engagements with a financial reconciliation and another printout of the electronic funds transfer that she had made into my account. After I had checked that, we moved to the bedroom and, as we undressed, discussed any business matters concerning the coming week. Once naked she became submissive and I enjoyed using her body. Of course she paid full market rate.
I guess it's timely for me to make the confession that I have a bit of a thing for older women. (As if you haven't figured it out by now.) Don't know why. I can't seem to point to anything in my upbringing that could have caused this but there it is. Regardless, my own sexuality made me ideal for serving the sexual desires of middle aged women which made up the bulk of my clientele.
Over the next couple of months or so I became increasingly busy with Agatha's work to the point where I ended dropping the slate laying altogether. While my current "work" was quite physical in one way, I found that I was losing general physical condition. I mentioned this to Cruella who made a sort of bitchy comment about 'not having the merchandise going off' but she did hook me up with a female gym owner who, in exchange for one appointment a month, would give me a deluxe gym membership. She was an ex-body builder of about 40 who was probably stronger than I was. It made for some interesting sex but those bulging muscles were not really a big turn on for me. I remember once when, during oral sex, she almost suffocated me between her thighs.
It was interesting to note that virtually all the women I serviced expected me to come. I think it was affirming for them if they saw that I was turned on to the point of orgasm. Indeed there were a few women to whom it seemed that my pleasure and orgasm was more important than theirs. I still worked hard to make sure they were satisfied as well but they certainly got off when I got off. Only once did a woman call a halt after her orgasm but before mine. I couldn't exactly complain but it was rather exasperating.
One line of regular work that developed was that of international airline cabin crew. Somehow the female flight attendants of a couple of airlines got onto me (so to speak) and booked me when they had an overnight stay. The novelty of this was the age difference. They were generally but not always younger than my regular customers. Most of them could easily have picked up some young stud for free but by using me they could call the shots and get exactly what they wanted with no strings or risk attached. Some of them were quite demanding but I just about always enjoyed myself. I would slip discretely into their hotel room and give them whatever they needed. I once had a very enjoyable threesome with a pair of very close friends.
There were only a couple of women that I refused further bookings from. One was a very odd woman who was taller than me and very skinny. She had an angular face and a high pitched squeaky voice. On our first encounter she ushered me into her apartment and took me straight to the bedroom. She took off the robe she was wearing and lay back nude on the bed. No small talk required with this one; it was straight down to business. She was a bit scrawny compared my usual fare but I told myself that variety is the spice etc. Without further ado she told me she wanted straight sex and nothing else and that I was to orgasm whenever I felt the need. A very unusual service request. I climbed on and after a little work guided myself into her. She was tight, not well lubricated and totally unresponsive. Her eyes were shut and her body rigid, I soldiered on and was surprised and a little disappointed at how corpse-like she was. Given that she only wanted a straight fuck; my options for trying to get her to engage were a little limited however. I thought I would go up tempo and give her a real power fuck, so I started to really hammer into her. Still nothing. I was mildly annoyed now. I suppose my ego was bruised, I was used to a fairly rapturous response to my services. I went into top gear but the only feedback was a high pitched squeak with each thrust. I think I fucked her harder than I have ever fucked anyone before. I was starting to get a bit bored and frustrated so I told her I was going to finish. I dropped my load and she quickly wriggled out from under me and disappeared into the bathroom. To my amazement, she asked me back in three days time and again in three further days after that. Three or so weeks later she booked me again. Agatha spotted it first. "She's using you to try and get pregnant." My God, the dates fit! She only needed me around when she was ovulating. I was in no mind to start handing out my DNA on a permanent basis so that arrangement came to a barren end.
One afternoon I got a phone call from Agatha. I had never heard her so rattled. When I queried what was upsetting her she explained that Ms. Stickler was starting to talk. Rumors concerning our activities were being circulated that could cause us serious problems. When I suggested that Agatha remind Ms. Stickler that we had acquired a pair of her knickers in rather compromising circumstances, Agatha replied that she had tried that and Ms. Stickler simply denied any knowledge of the underwear or the incident.
I drove over and, after a brief strategy meeting with the anxious Agatha, marched with purpose over to Ms. Stickler's residence. After a forceful knocking, the door opened to reveal Ms. Stickler. I gave her my best leer and stated, "You have been a very bad girl."
She was clearly alarmed. Her feet started moving erratically, reminiscent of an intoxicated tap dancer. Her arms were making a sort of rowing motion, sort of pushing me away and then pulling me in. Her skittering footwork was causing her to slowly drift across the room like a drop of water on a hot skillet. This ended when she bumped into a couch and fell clumsily back onto it. I entered the room, carefully closed the door behind me and joined her.
