Let's start with the simple stuff. My name is Cory Atwood. OK, no it's not' it's really Corbin Atwood III. Wahoo; puff up like a peacock and strut around; yeah right. So let's just stick to Cory for now.
I'm twenty-four years old and two years out of college with a bachelor's in business administration. The company I had gotten a job in after college hired me into their Human Relations department at a whopping forty grand a year.
Not bad for a twenty-four year old; I made enough to finally get my ass out of my folks house; I had a pretty cute girl and a decent used car. All in all life wasn't too bad. That is until two and a half months ago.
When the distribution company I worked for got bought out, the new parent company decided a bit of the wonderful down-sizing was in order. I have news, when there are fewer personnel, they need less people IN personnel. Being the new kid on the block, I got my walking papers.
So here's a news flash for you, unemployment only pays eighty percent of base. At forty grand a year, I dropped over six hundred a month in income. That was almost my apartment rent, which meant a slow downward spiral until here I am about to lose my apartment, and my girl.
Oh I went the usual unemployment route of trying to find another job, but times aren't exactly jumping for my world. I needed a way to make it, or I was going to be crawling back to the folks, which is not exactly the best future for a finally independent alpha male. That was how I met Toby; he and I worked out at the clubhouse for the apartment complex together. With my prior work schedule I had never been there when Toby was; with all my free time I spent a lot of it on the treadmill and Nordic track, burning calories and frustration.
Toby was actually a decent guy; like me he was about six foot in height, packed about two hundred in muscle; we both had dark wavy hair and that young guy look that seemed to register on the female scale more than we recognized at first.
Look, I'm not trying to make myself into something I'm not. What I am is; six foot, two hundred pounds of fit male; packing an eight inch cock. What does that make me? Cougar material, let's face it.
It wasn't something I ever translated into income; that is until I met Toby. When we hung out at the gym a few times, I had commiserated about my finances, and how I was edging closer to that inevitable of swallowing my junior male pride and heading back home.
Toby had offered me a break out. He had mentioned he had an 'appointment' that he couldn't keep. Rather than take a hit on his colander, he offered if I wanted to fill in for him.
Being a male whore was not something I ever thought I would lower myself to. Yeah Toby preferred gigolo, but a whore is a whore. Look, it isn't the morals that stuck in my throat; it was more that I just wasn't into older women.
Toby was elated when I told him I could fill in for him if he needed. Having gotten the second late notice that morning gave the perfect motivation.
Toby had scribbled a name, address, time and date on a piece of paper for me. He said to wear my best suit, and show up. The woman's name was Marie and that was all I needed to know.
Marie was a fifty-six year old divorcee; about five foot six she packed in a few extra pounds, and was a bit heavy on the make-up. Not my speed, but I needed the cash. She took me to an art show where apparently she was one of the sponsors. Like a piece of eye candy she paraded me around hanging on her arm where we mingled with a lot of people both her age and mine. Let's be honest you ever feel like a prize steak at the local cookout? That was it, god I swore every woman there she knew eyed me nude not dressed.
On the limo ride back to her place I got the shock of my life, that lady sucked my cock like a damned vacuum cleaner. I painted the back of her throat in the less than ten minutes it took to ride back.
Once there, I pounded her jiggly ass for everything I was worth. By the time I left she had cum four times, and I had painted her pussy one more time.
OK I had to agree, the sex was not bad. Hell, it was damn good. She may not have been my 'type' but god could that lady fuck. When I glanced in the envelope she gave me, I almost shit myself. Ten fresh one hundred dollar bills winked back at me. A thousand dollars for what had been about five hours of time, and a hot piece of ass.
I was hooked, right there. I found Toby the next day and told him I was in. He had laughed his ass off at me, but seemed happy things had worked out.
Over the next month I worked two or three times a week. By the time the dust settled, I had caught up all my bills, paid off the car, and still had almost two grand in the bank. I had basically gone from a forty hour work week at forty grand a year, to a tenty hour work week at over a hundred grand a year.
No, I didn't tell my girlfriend or my folks about my new job. They thought I had found another job at some other start-up company as their assistant personnel director. Like I was going to go in and say 'Oh hey mom and dad, I'm a gigolo.'
Some of the women I worked for were divorced, others widowed. Yeah, there were some married ones; but their personal life was not my business. Their pleasure was. Some took me out and showed me off, while others met me at the door damn near nude and fucked my brains out.
Honestly it didn't matter to me, it was their quarter and as long as they were smiling when I left, that was what DID matter. Even if it was the, I had the shit fuck out of me smile.
Some of the women were actually pretty hot. There was one that I had worked with twice now, her name was Gail. She was a fifty-five year old business woman. Her old man was in his late sixties, and his pecker just didn't do the job I guess.
Gail was pretty fit for her age, and had a set of tits to fucking die for. Watching those 38DD's bounce while she rode my pony was enough to keep my dick hard all night.
It was Gail and my lack of transparency at home about my new job; that put me where I am right now; sitting in my car in the driveway of a very familiar house trying to decide what to do next.
The name listed was Sharon and the address had seemed vaguely familiar; but I had ignored that little voice in the back of my head. Only, I couldn't ignore the voice screaming at me as I sat staring at my aunt and uncles out. Was Sharon really my Aunt Charlene? Holy shit, I thought.
My Aunt Charlene; like my father, her bother Ben, had followed grandpa into the lawyer business. Between the three of them they had built a practice that was one of the top in the city. She had a shit load of money, that I knew. That she was a frustrated wife, I didn't know.
I had the urge to start the car and head out, call Toby and tell him the deal was off. Looking at my watch I had five minutes until connection time, fuck it was way too late to bail out now.
I headed out of the car and to the door. Taking a deep breath, I rang the bell and waited.
"Cory, what are you doing here?" the lilting voice of my aunt. She looked around me into the driveway nervously. Yeah, she was expecting someone all right.
For the first time I took a look at my Aunt Charlene, and I have to say what I saw put a chub in my pressed slacks. She had on a sleek red cocktail dress that showed off some damned fine tanned legs, and it clung to her full hips like a second skin. She had just the right amount of make-up, to highlight her eyes and take away what fifty-five years had aged on her.
Like any male my age, it was the tits that got my attention, and damn was hers a pair. Full, round, they had to be at least a 36 if not a 38, with enough cleavage showing at the top of her dress to make your mouth water. There was no bra either, that I was damn sure of by the twin bullets that were staring back at me.
I took a breath, and figured might as well hit this for what it was worth. I said the only two words I could think of.
"Hello...Sharon." My voice hit her like a brick wall.
"Oh God no" Aunt Charlene whispered, as her eyes grew wide in fear. "You can't be..." she barely whispered out.
Toby had been with 'Sharon' before. When we traded jobs we liked to give each other hints or tips about a client that would earn us extra points. Extra points often translated into extra cash. Toby had said that Sharon was a bit on the submissive side; a powerful woman who liked to be man handled, if you could say it that way. I figured time to put those tips to work for me.
"May I come in?" I asked, stepping through the doorway before she could answer.
Aunt Charlene released the door handle and stepped to the side mutely. I turned and closed the door, now facing her, with her back almost to the wall beside the now closed door.
"I take it Uncle Eric is out of town...again." I smiled at her.
"Oh God Cory...no" she whispered.
I could see her body tremble as she fought to find words, I had the upper hand and intended to keep it. I stepped closer, watching her edge back to the wall.
"Is there a problem...Sharon." My voice began deepening for effect. "You are expecting me?" I asked softly.
"Yes, I mean no." Aunt Charlene choked out. "It can't be...oh my God." She almost moaned.
"You look beautiful tonight Sharon." I whispered; and damn she really did.
I looked down at the twin hard nubs poking through her dress. My hand came up and lightly brushed over one rubbery point. Yep, they were hard as a rock and no bra.
Most of the clients who didn't have a "show me off" on their schedule usually showed up at the door dressed and ready for business. Or should I say undressed and ready for business. Aunt Charlene was no different.
"Oh Goddddd" Charlene shuddered at the sudden stimulation. "We can't...you're my...oh shit." She moaned as I cupped her full breast.
"We can't what?" I whispered softly. "We can't kiss?" I lowered my head and molded my lips to hers.
While her voice may have been claiming no, her body was primed and ready. Her tongue dueled with mine as we both moaned into the others mouths.
I pulled my lips away and saw the smoldering lust in her eyes. She was almost there, beyond stopping. I pressed harder. I was moving fast, faster than I normally would. I wanted to keep myself from chickening out, but I wanted to also keep her off balance. It seemed to be working as I lowered my other hand to find the hem of her short dress.
"Or did you mean, we can't?" I left the rest hanging in the air between us as I slid my hand under them hem. My fingers started slowly tracing along her inner thigh.
"Oh Jesus...Oh God..." Charlene gasped as her eyes grew even wider. "Cory...no...we can't..."
Her voice ended in a gurgle as my fingers dragged over her swollen fat lips. Her light pubic hair pressed against my palm as I swiped over her swollen clit. No panties, and soaked I realized.
"You're my client Sharon" my voice filled her ear. "I can do whatever makes you feel good."
