HotHarry -- Today 10:20
"Tue 9:00
front door will b open
guestroom -- wife seduces sch chum
i'll let her know when u ready
leave lite on ths time
i b in closet -- make sure I get good view
kicked in extra $ -- expect really good show"

HotHarry. Just how I want to start my day. I did a skit with him and his wife a few weeks back, same sort of tired voyeur scene, female burglar surprises wife, blah, blah, blah. They got what was paid for, but it left a bad taste in my mouth, with her looking like she'd done something she didn't want to do. I'm in the comfort and joy business. I don't like leaving people that way. I chatted with a few of the other girls and boys in the trade and it sounded like I wasn't the only one getting that vibe, either.

I check my private pay account. $20 over my normal role-play fee.

"Gee wow, Harry. You're a selfish fucking pig and cheap to boot. I do like your wife, though. She is sweet and pretty and deserves better than having to do this shit just so you can get your little stiffy off."

As I sip my latte, I mull it over and a little plan floats up in my head. After a few minutes, I decide I like it. I check my schedule and text him an okay, then make a couple of calls.

It's Tuesday night and I find her sitting in the corner of a big, deep couch in the den, watching some tv dribble. She is middle-aged, a bit doughy, and wearing a cheap black nightie that only a man would think was sexy. Despite the poor choice of hair color and garish lipstick, she has a cute round face with lovely brown doe eyes and a perfect button nose. She looks a little tense sitting there, her eyes flicking to the phone laying on her thigh, waiting for her cue.

"Evening, Margie, how are you?" I ask quietly and her head jerks up with a start.

"Oh! Hi, I guess I'm okay. Wait, aren't you supposed to be upstairs?"

"Plans change," I murmur with a shrug, coming across to her.

"Where's Harry?"

"Oh, he's being well taken care of, don't worry. Now here's tonight's new rule. You're not going to think about him anymore. At all. Tonight is going to be about you."

"About me? I don't understand."

"Tonight it's all Margie's wants and desires, not somebody else's. I could tell last time you actually enjoy another woman's touch, just not as an exhibition piece for prying eyes. So that's why I am here, to give you anything that will help you find that pleasure. Just for you. I expect nothing in return, unless you choose to do it," I explain, then pause, "though there is one thing I must insist on before we start."

"What's that?" she asks, her eyes getting narrow.

"Take off that dreadful rag," wagging a finger at her outfit.

"Gladly! It itches!" With a giggle, she wiggles it up and over her head, letting it dangle, before dropping it to the floor.

"Ta-dah!" she exclaims, her voice tinged with little streaks of doubt. She leans back into the corner, arms and legs draped like a sultan's favorite. Her body is voluptuous, her breasts large and sexily pendulous, with some serious fat pink nipples in large, pale surrounds. Her tummy is three soft rolls begging to be pinched and kissed. Her mons is covered in a forest of loose curls above a plump cunny shaved smooth, framed by fleshy white thighs. As I take her in, I decide I'm liking this plan better and better.

"You look absolutely delicious, Margie." Holding her eye, I begin to undress slowly, not like a strip-tease, just giving her time to really see me. As I slip off my blouse, her eyes flick to my bare breasts and the thick gold ring in my left nipple.

"I like that," she whispers.

"Thank you. Gift from my father at Christmas."

"Oh, you naughty girl!" she giggles, "Think I'd look good that way?"

"With nipples like those beauties and nice gold bars? Any woman I know would drool at the chance to get close."

I kick off my loafers and step out of my slacks. She takes in a quick breath seeing my naked cunny and its naturally thin dusting of blond hair. I come forward and sit between her thighs, my hip pressing lightly between.

I bring my lips to hers and whisper, "Now, my love, how shall we go?" with a gentle kiss. We hold for a moment, eye to eye, as she ponders. Her hands snake into my short hair and she kisses me hard, then whispers in my ear, "Make love to me like you mean it, like I deserve it."

I give her a warm smile. "Absolutely. I wouldn't have it any other way. Now close your eyes, cast out everything from your mind, and open yourself only to the pleasure you feel."

I begin slowly. Kisses and whispers, little licks, caresses like feathers dancing across her skin. I slowly knead and squeeze, pinch and probe down her soft, yielding body, watching, feeling, listening for her response with each foray, reading the trembles and moans.

Her nipples especially get the attention they deserve and she cries out, "Oh fuck, harder!" as I suck and pull each with my teeth. I pause a minute to let her simmer, then slip to the floor, swivel her closer to the edge, and kneel between her legs. Her sweet cunny pouts open, flowing with her juices. With fingers tip-toeing up her thighs, I lean in and inhale deeply, then blow sharp through her curls and down across her fat little clit, making her jump.

Most of the time in this business, at least for me, you just get on with it, fulfilling the client's money/pleasure ratio. Other times, you close your eyes and wish you had charged double, maybe triple. And then there are those rare encounters when you are tempted to leave their money on the nightstand when you go. If Margie had been paying, I probably would have.

I take a long, slow lick from her rose to her clit, tasting her rich, sweet, abundant passion and feel a tingle in my own cunny, but nothing compared to the way her butt jumps on the cushion. I put my head down and go to work, fast, slow, hard, soft. I use all my best tricks, truly enjoying the treat of working with such a luscious cunt for a change. I can feel the storm building in her, pushing her up there, right to the edge.

Her cries get louder and louder until she grabs a pillow and smashes it down on her face. I reach up and pull it off.

"No cheating! I want to hear you scream when you cum, I want the world to know how you deserve to feel!"

I slide two stiff fingers deep into her, pumping hard as my pinkie slides across her wet rose bud beneath. I take her clit between my lips and suck her right over the edge and into oblivion.

"Oh fuck! Oh fuck me, fuck me! Oh Lizzie! Oh God! Fuck me Lizzie!" she screams, bouncing wildly, thighs and belly and breasts shaking like granny's best jelly, hands desperately grasping the cushions.

Twice more waves crash through her before she pulls my hand away with a long whimper. I swing her around with a pillow under her head and snuggle her, painting her with soft kisses and calming touches.

While she finds her way back to the living, I slip away and find the kitchen to get us some water. When I get back, she is sitting up in the couch corner, squeezing her legs and rocking gently. I give her a bottle and sit at her feet, gently caressing her calf.

"I'm not stupid enough to ask the obvious, but I do have one other question."

"What's that?"

"So who is Lizzie?

She covers her face with a hand. "I'm so embarrassed, it just came out!

"No need to feel that way -- you wouldn't believe some of the things I've heard."

"Boarding school. We both turned seventeen, so got to share a room instead of sleeping in the big dorm. It didn't take long before we were sharing a lot more than that. I was her first and she was mine. I think Matron suspected, since one set of bed linens always needed so much more washing, but she never said anything," she giggled.

"What happened?"

"Her father was a diplomat and got posted overseas after about six months. It broke my heart, but it was summer day glorious while it lasted. I wasn't with another woman until you know who started playing these games. I didn't like them much, just went along with it because I felt I had to."

I pull her over to me and give her a long warm hug and kiss.

"Can I still make a request?" she whispers

"Already? You sure you're up to it?"

"No. not that. I want to do it to you."

"I told you this was about you, not me."

"This is about me. Your cunny, when you undressed, for a moment it looked just like hers did back then. I want to close my eyes and feel her on my lips, taste her again, here," she explains, touching her head, "Please?"

"Of course. How would you like me?"

I'll lie down and you kneel over my head. She liked it that way best. My boobies weren't all saggy then and she liked to sway over them so my nipples tickled her bottom, silly girl."

I ease her down and straddle her face.

"Take your time, darling, and stop whenever you want."

She closes her eyes and massages my cheeks, pulling me to her mouth. She is slow to start, but the memories flooding back begin to burn in her and soon she is giving me some first-class head. I have to say, if a girl ate me like that when we were seventeen, no fucking way I'd ever give her up.

I could easily let myself go and enjoy the bliss, but business is business, so I just simmer along, making appropriate noises and shakes. I can feel her arm moving behind me and know her fingers are busy. I watch her body move, listening to her own squeaks and groans, until I feel she's right there again. I go into theatre mode, hand in her hair, pulling her into me, shaking side to side.

"Oh fuck, baby! Fuck me, Margie! Fuck your sweet girl! Cum with me now!" I moan out, pitching my voice higher, like a young girl's.

Her body bucks beneath me and she screams her release into my cunt, then falls back, eyes closed, panting, out of breath.

We snuggle again, trading kisses and caresses until she dozes off. I tuck her in under a duvet, get dressed, then make my way upstairs to the guest bedroom.

I pull open the wide louvered closet door.

"Hey, Jimmy. How we doing?"

A handsome young man is lounging against the wall on a fold-up chair. A talented semipro soccer player, he recently discovered he could make a lot more money servicing rich middle-aged women with his truly impressive black cock than getting beat up on the sports field every Saturday. He and I had met doing a duet to a televangelist's wife right after their nasty divorce. Now that was a woman with appetites!

"All good, girl." He shakes his nearly empty big gulp. "Took you long enough, though. Nearly had to go out for another soda."

"You know that stuff's poison, right?" I smile, handing him a crisp Franklin for the refill. "Thanks, I owe you."

"Any time, baby."

As he leaves, I turn to Harry. He is sitting in a chair, too, but his ankles are taped to the legs, his wrists to the arms.  His face is beet red with outrage and his eyes are bulging. He starts thrashing about, trying to scream through the generous strip of duct tape over his mouth.

"Now, now, Harry. Calm down. Nothing bad is going to happen. Margie and I had ourselves a really lovely evening -- you probably heard us screaming -- but she's taking a little rest now. I'm sure she'll eventually wonder what became of you. Until then, I'd just relax and contemplate my sins, if I were you."

I pull up the other chair and sit so we're face to face. I reach out and grab his mushy chin.

"So here's the new reality, Hot Harry. You're off the list. From now on when it comes to fun and games, Margie calls the shots. She wants me to come by again or maybe wants a taste of Jimmy or maybe finds a friend of her own for some nice sweaty sex, that's her business. You take your ass off to some cheap bar and cry into your shots, unless she says otherwise, got it?"

I pull hard, making his head nod up and down.

"Good. Now, one more thing before I go. You know Alice, the little sweetie you like to have come by the office dressed like a school-girl? Turns out the last time she made the nicest video for me. You really need to be more careful these days, Harry. We both know she's old enough to play, but that girl is such a good actress and with that clean skinny little body and the things you were saying, some people really might wonder. Like the ladies I know on the special cases squad. I'm sure they'd want to have a long chat with you, maybe go through your hard drives and phone and what-not. Pretty sure you understand what I'm saying, don't you, Harry?"

This time he nods by himself, staring at the floor.

"Such a good boy. Okay then, quite a night. Got paid to fuck your beautiful wife and fucked you over, too. Couldn't ask for much better than that. I think it's time to drop by Antonio's for a glass of muscato. See you around, Harry."

I give his dyed comb-over a good mussing and make my way out.

All in all, a good night's work.