A Hard Day's Night

A Hard Day's Night

Status: Finished

Genre: Erotica

Details

Status: Finished

Genre: Erotica

Tags

Summary

I'm on my way to meet a new client ... Jackson is his name ...

Tags

Summary

I'm on my way to meet a new client ... Jackson is his name ...

Content

Submitted: August 16, 2011

A A A | A A A

Content

Submitted: August 16, 2011

A A A

A A A


A Hard Day's Night

As I step out of the shower I can't help but have a little play with myself. My pussy lips are soft and tingly from the soaping they've just had. It won't hurt to get myself in the mood a little, either. The agency called an hour ago. They want me to go meet a new client. Jackson is his name, I think. Jackson Lee. Something like that. I try to get a picture of him in my head. Middle-aged? A paunch? Balding? Probably all of the above. Small dick, too, I shouldn't wonder. I resist the temptation to have a full blown session. Mick will be here soon to take me over there.

Walking into the bedroom I consider what to wear. The red dress? Too whorish. The trouser suit? Too boyish. The pencil skirt and blouse? Yes, I think so. With the new stockings, suspenders and cami-knickers with matching bra. The right combination of sophistication and naughtiness, I think. What do you reckon? It's strange, I suppose, having too wardrobes - one for the clients, one for me. Three sets if you consider the day job. Maybe I should give that up? This pays much better. On the other hand I've made some good friends. Be a shame to lose them. It makes me laugh to see the puzzled looks on their faces trying to work out how I can afford the life-style I have. Although Miranda is starting to suspect, I suspect ....

Worry about that another time. The suspender belt first. Fastened at the front and twisted round. Then the stockings. I love the feel of nylon. I love the contrast between it and my bare flesh. For a minute I stroke my thigh where the two meet. Both stockings on I fasten the bra around my waist then twist it around and hook first one arm then the other through the straps then pull them up over my shoulders to hold and comfort my ample breasts. I feel them, one in each hand. How much do they weigh? Each? God knows. Before I put on my knickers I stand to admire myself in the mirror. Blonde hair tied back. Subtle mascara and eye-liner. Ruby red lips. Should do the trick. Broad shoulders. Stunning breasts. Amazing cleavage. Enough to make a grown man cry. Narrow waist. Firm tummy. Muscular, but not overly developed thighs. Sculpted pubes between them. Twisting slightly. Firm ass.

Sitting, I slip on my knickers. Up over the stockings and suspender straps. Stand up. Snug round my hips. I remember the first time I wore stockings and suspenders. Put the knickers on first then fastened the stockings over the outside. Later I nearly wet myself when I went to the loo. Couldn't get my knickers down before I'd undone the bloody stockings, could I? Div. Anyway, live and learn.

Skirt next. Black. Flaring out over my hips before tapering down to just above the knee. Side split just showing the stocking tops, if I want it to. Then the blouse. White. Three-quarter length sleeves. Plain, really. Collar down. Top three buttons undone. Perfect. Who the fuck could resist? Not that it was likely. Well, it hadn't happened yet, anyway. Just imagine. Turn up. Ring the bell. Door opens. One look. Sorry, love, changed my mind. Never gonna happen. A last check in the mirror as the bell rings.

"You ready for a hard day's night?" The customary greeting.

On my way. Lights flash orange inside the car. Mick babbles. Talks too much. Always has done. Always will. Good sort, really though. There when you need him. Not like some. Run a mile at the first hint of trouble. Knows London like the back of his hand, too. Haven't given him an address yet he didn't know where it was. Same tonight. Straight there. No fuss. Must be fucking boring doing what he does though, don't you think? All that hanging around, waiting? Seems to suit hin, though. Never complains. Probably got all sorts of things going on on the side.

Once we're there I get out of the car and make my way quickly to the door. No use hanging around. Nosey neighbours. They can be a problem. Kicking off with their over-blown morality issues. Just 'cos they ain't getting none. Ring the bell. Door opens. Step inside. See what's what.

Just as I thought. Middle aged. Bald. Well, not bald exactly but getting that way. Belly hanging over his jeans. Jeans? You get that? Middle aged men in jeans? I know they all do it now, but please. Grow up. Tells me his name. Jackson Lee. As if I care. Be wanting to shake hands next. Into the living room. Offers me a drink. Offers me a drink. A drink. Like I want to be drugged and raped. Be polite. No thanks. Realises he's made a mistake. A faux-pas. Gets flustered. Shall we go through to the bedroom? Shall we fuck go through to the bedroom. Money first, sweetheart. Think this might be his first time. Not his first time ever, you understand? First time with a prostitute. Not that I'm really a prostitute. Just I like nice things and they've got to be paid for.

Go to the loo and prepare myself. Come out and into the bedroom and there he is, sitting on the side of the bed, like a lamb to the slaughter. Cross over. Pull his t-shirt up over his head. Oh, yes, hair definitely receding. Step back and undo my blouse. Linger awhile with it undone. Let him drink it in. The tits he's not going to touch. Then slide it off and let it hit the floor before pushing him back on the bed and undoing his jeans. Bit of a struggle pulling them over his fat arse but we manage. Wrong about one thing. Quite a good size dick inside those underpants if I'm not mistaken.

Step back and undo my skirt. Let it slide down round my ankles and step out. Same with the knickers. He's leaning on one elbow looking at me. I let him look for a second then turn him onto his front and straddle him. Out comes the oil. I can feel my pussy on his flesh. Slight tingle runs through me. Rub oil into his shoulders and upper back then move down and position myself over his upper thighs. More oil. Rub, rub, rub on his lower back. Get off. Massage bum and upper thighs. Turn him over. Cock hard. Twitching in anticipation. Not yet, big boy. Not yet. Kneel at his side and kneed his chest and stomach. Yuck. Then thighs. Let my hand touch his balls. Cock springs upwards each time that happens.

Then straddle and take it in my hand. Guide it into me. Actually feels good. Fuck it always feels good. Doesn't matter whose it is. Take all of it into me and start to ride it. Fucking easy money or what? He'll be coming in seconds. get into the acting stride. Arms up over my head, oh yes, oh yes, oh yes. Then stop. What? What? You want me to fucking stop when I'm just getting into my performance? My Oscar winning performance? You have the nerve to stop me?

Oh, I see. You want to fuck me? Not happy with the service I provide, is it? You think you can do better you go for it. I lie on my back and next thing my legs are in the air and he's pressing his cock into me. Then slowly back and forth. Slowly. Oh, I can't believe it. I'm being played. This sucker wants to make me come. He's making love to me. Well go ahead. been tried by better men than you.

Then I'm on all fours and he's ramming his cock into me. He reaches round with one hand and starts to play with my pussy. With the other hand he's playing with my tits. Fuck. I'm starting to enjoy this. I know I shouldn't let him do the things he's doing. How the fuck do I know what might happen while I'm in this vulnerable position? Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck. I'm coming. Oh, fuck. I feel him come inside me. Oh fuck.

Afterwards I hand him a card. Par for the course. Just business. Don't suppose I'll see him again. Outside the air feels fresher. Another job, Mick says. Battersea. Oh well. Why the fuck not?


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