What do you do when you only have lemons? That's an easy question to answer. You make lemonade!
And that's what I did. But of course, we're not really talking about lemons, or any other type of fruit. It's about making the most of the talents that I have. And, unfortunately, I don't have many.
My name's Chris, and I'm twenty two years old. I like to think that I'm handsome, but nobody else has ever called me that, so I guess I'm not. However, I'm certainly not ugly. Regarding intelligence. Let's say average, and leave it at that. So what do I have going for me, what are my lemons? My family would say straight away, that it's my personality. I get on very well with people. The proof being, that I have lots of friends. However, my girlfriends would probably disagree, and put something else at the top of their list. The size of my cock. It's a real, 'Big swinging dick'.
What do you do when all you have going for you is a charming personality, and a very big cock? That's an easy question to answer. You work for Mrs. Templeton!
I met her a month ago, in a local bar. Despite her being at least twenty years older than me, I was instantly attracted to her. It wasn't just her beautiful face, or curvy body, that interested me. It was also her stylish clothes, and elegant demeanour. She was a classy lady. Two hours later, we were in bed together, and we weren't sleeping!
The sex was very good, and I wanted to see her again. But while giving me a nice smile, she said no. That surprised me. I'd made her come twice, and the second time, she'd actually screamed. So why was it a no? I was confused.
"Chris, I need to tell you something."
It didn't take her long, and when she'd finished, she asked me a question.
"So do you want to work for me?"
Without any hesitation, but with a big smile, I said yes.
"Good, but now that I'm your boss, you don't call me Anne. I'm Mrs. Templeton."
She had just given me my perfect job, so as far as I was concerned, I was happy to call her whatever she wanted.
It was late when I got home, but I called Andy. I wanted to tell him my good news. He must have still been up, because he answered on the second ring. I quickly told him.
"Is this a joke? If it is, it isn't very funny."
"No, all of it's true. Scout's honour."
"But you've never been in the Scouts."
I gave a deep sigh. This was hard work.
"Remember when we were five, and we made that pact. To be best friends forever."
"Are you sure it was with me?"
I just ignored him. It was, and he knew it.
"And we said we'd never lie to each other."
"OK, I believe you. But tell me it again."
I did, but this time, giving him more detail.
"So you didn't know when you were fucking her, that it was an audition? And she now wants to pay you to have sex with members of her club? It seems too good to be true."
"Correct, but she refers to it as, 'Providing the client with the service that they require'."
"And to do that, you put your cock through a hole in a wall."
"Mrs. Templeton calls it, 'A barrier that maintains anonymity'."
"You know what your job really is?"
I didn't, but I knew that he was going to tell me.
"You are fucking in a Glory Hole!"
He then laughed, and I had to join in. He had summed it up perfectly. Mrs. Templeton had shown me pictures of her establishment, and it was indeed classy. No expense had been spared on the fixtures and fittings. It catered for a very exclusive clientele, who paid a lot of money for their membership. However, when you stripped it down to its bare bones, it was exactly as Andy had said. I was going to be working in a Glory Hole.
A week before I was due to start, I went to the club. I had an appointment with Helen, the Manager.
She greeted me with, "We have a lot to do, so let's get on with it. Take your clothes off."
She was a formidable woman, both in looks and manner, so I did as I was told.
"Now stand in front of the screen. I'm going to take some pictures for our website. Don't worry, your face will be obscured."
When that was done, she took a good look at my cock.
"Ten inches?"
I nodded. That got a flicker of a smile from her, because she'd guessed correctly.
"It's too big for me, but we have some clients that prefer our men to have a large penis. And yours is definitely that." Then, after some thought, she added, "I'll put it down as eleven."
She must have seen the concern on my face, because she spoke again.
"Don't worry, they are not going to measure it."
When, after two hours, I left, I'd been given a tour of the club, and all the paperwork had been completed. I now had a pension, and medical insurance. I had a legitimate job, but one that I couldn't talk about in polite company!
On my first day, I was introduced to Simon.
"Hi Chris, I'm your mentor. That's a fancy way of saying that if you screw up, I get the blame."
Then he laughed, and I was happy to join in. Half an hour later, he was more than a mentor, he was a friend. And he had given me some good advice.
"It's all about their needs, and not yours, because it's them that are paying."
"Sometimes, the client will be difficult. Just take it on the chin. As far as Mrs. Templeton is concerned, the client is always right."
"Pace yourself. You can have up to three clients in an evening. Coming each time, is ambitious."
When it was time for my first client, he vigorously shook my hand, and then, as I was leaving, he shouted out, "Good luck."
As I walked towards the room, I remembered some more of his wise words. And I wished I hadn't.
"It happens to the best of us. Sometimes, no matter what you do, you'll find that you can't get it up. That's a problem, but you'll be OK, if you can manage to get them off by just using your fingers or tongue."
I was now worried. Was I going to get stage fright? This could be a disaster. My first time working for Mrs. Templeton, might be my last.
