Chapter Twenty-Three...

Thursday Afternoon…

Focusing on the sliding door that opened onto the small balcony, I watched wind-driven rain splatter against the glass. Outside, gusting wind, heavy rain and dark grey skies mirrored my mood exactly. Inside, I tried to keep a smile plastered on my face. All in all, the weather today matched my mood. I'd tried not to show my bad mood to my client though.

Shifting, I added another pillow to the ones behind my back to sit up straighter. Moving my torso caused my tits to sway and Chris paused in collecting his clothes to look at me. I smiled and took a long sip of the wonderful brandy Chris had brought with him. Chris continued to gaze at me while buttoning his shirt. No surprise there. When a naked, long-legged blonde with big boobs is lounging beside the wet spots on the sheets you just made with her... Well, she deserves to be looked at!

Chris had been my last client today. My third. When Marla called to ask if I wanted to meet with another client after my last scheduled client, I'd agreed because it was Chris. Servicing three clients in one day left me feeling tired with slightly sore thigh muscles. But this evening I was also relaxed because of all the excellent brandy in my stomach. Since I didn't need to be anywhere soon, I poured another two fingers of Remy Martin into my glass as a particularly heavy gust of wind rattled the sliding door in its fitting.

Chris was one of Marla's oldest clients. I mean that in a dual sense. He was one of the first men who'd used Marla's rather specialized service. He was also pushing eighty years old. I'd been with him once before. Though his body was long past its prime, he wasn't fat, just wrinkled. Chris was a nice, comfortable lover. He wasn't interested in anything kinky. Never tried to lick my toes or smell my panties. He just took his time, enjoying himself with whichever girl Marla sent when he requested company.

Chris enjoyed long, sloppy blowjobs before leaving his cum in a girl's mouth. Doggy position, slender cigars and expensive brandy, not necessarily in that order, followed in preference. The old guy was still relatively vigorous, too. Vigorous enough for me to have brought him twice today though it had taken more than the two hours he'd originally paid for. We'd enjoyed a comfortable break spent in conversation after he'd spent his cum into my mouth. While we sipped excellent cognac and smoked expensive, imported cigars, I listened as he reminisced about women from his youth. When Chris smoked, he expected the woman in bed with him to smoke, also. I very much enjoyed the relaxing, talking and cognac while I tried not to inhale the smoke from my cigar. Chris joked that his cigars were hand-rolled upon the virgin thighs of Cuban beauties. I wouldn't bet on virgin thighs, but they had an easy draw and a hint of a flavor I couldn't identify. I don't mind the smell of cigars. If it wasn't for the smell lingering in my hair and clothes, I could see myself enjoying a cigar every night.

With less than half an hour left in our time together, I'd stubbed out my cigar and finished the cognac in my glass before moving to play with Chris's limp cock. Chris was usually a one-time guy with the girl he was with. But today my playful mouth and hands had re-ignited his ardor. When Chris had asked if I could stay longer, I'd lifted my mouth away from the shaft I'd sucked to semi-rigid hardness and agreed.

I'd agreed because I doubted it would take me more than another twenty or twenty-five minutes to make him come. My estimate proved to be true after I straddled his hips for a cowgirl ride. I fucked Chris's cock while leaning over to let him enjoy playing with my dangling tits and sucking on my nipples. We were barely into our second, two-hour paid for time together when Chris sighed and came in my pussy. Chris hadn't lingered for long beside me after he'd come. Only sipping a small amount of cognac while I'd sucked his cock clean before he'd gotten off the bed.

Now I was watching while Chris tucked his shirt into his trousers then sat on the side of the bed to put his socks on. There was a clock on the night table. I knew there wasn't a chance in hell of anything serious but there was an hour-and-a-half of me he'd paid for, so there was plenty of time to play and tease after Chris had his socks on. Maybe earn a larger tip. Bending my knees and splaying them apart to almost touch the sheets, I offered my crotch and still cummy pussy to Chris's unobstructed view. Wiggling my hips, I pouted, "Are you sure you have to go now? I wouldn't mind another roll in the hay."

"I'd love nothing better than to remain all night, but the wife has some meeting she wants me to go to with her," Chris informed me ruefully, his eyes glued to my partly open slit. Some of the thick, white cum he'd left inside me had leaked out and was still in evidence clinging to my pussy hole. "She probably wants me there to write a check to save the damned dolphins or something."

Chris started to knot his tie, then stopped. From my ankle, he slowly trailed his fingers to my knees before tracing the inside of my thigh to my pussy. Chris's fingers continued to slowly move over my hairless mound and down into the dip of my flat stomach. Eyes followed his hand as it moved over my ribs to find and massage my left breast. Chris tweaked and rolled my nipple between thumb and finger.

"Besides, an entire night with you would kill an old guy like me," he said.

"Maybe, but..." Smiling evilly, I spread my legs more. Taking the hand on my breast in mine, I pushed it down my body to rest on my mound and curled his fingers into my still-moist pussy lips. "But I'd make you die happy."

"God, Viv! You are such a temptress but I really need to leave," Chris whispered as I pressed his fingers further into the slit between my pussy lips. Chris needed to leave but he couldn't resist the temptation I was offering. Fingers began rubbing and manipulating the softness of my hairless lips. My hips moved upwards in invitation as a fingertip circled my clit before sliding down my oily slit to slip inside me. I made my hips squirm under his hand and moaned when a second finger quickly joined the first inside me.

I didn't really want to tempt Chris too much. I didn't want him to stay the full extra two hours he'd paid for. I wanted him to leave but I continued to make it seem I wanted his fingers replaced by his cock. Chris continued to probe deeper while the hard heel of his hand pressed down on my clit. Chris increased the tempo of his fingering, listening to me moan encouragement while watching the fluttering of my stomach muscles as I made my breath catch and release in response to his probing fingers.

I've had a lot of practice in responding, outwardly at least, in ways that convinced my clients that they are the best lovers I've ever had. I strained to spread my thighs more to allow for deeper exploration. Thank God, instead of accepting my unspoken invitation, Chris shook his head ruefully before lifting his hand from my mound. Grinning, Chris brought his fingers to my mouth, painting my lips with our sex before I snapped my head forward to capture his fingers in my mouth, sucking hard while swirling my tongue over his fingers to clean them.

"Viv, I would love to take you away for a weekend in Paris," Chris said as I continued to lick and suck his fingers. "I think dying in the City of Lights while making love would be the perfect ending to a long life." With a sigh, Chris pulled his hand away. Continuing the motion, he stood to put on his jacket. Withdrawing an envelope from an inside jacket pocket, Chris placed it on the night table beside the bed. From his wallet, several more bills went on top of the envelope.

Pretending not to notice the envelope, in the dim light of a sun hidden by thick clouds, I stretched sinuously on the bed to my full length, "I wouldn't mind a trip to France," I purred. "As long as it's first-class so I have room to stretch out."

Chris took a few seconds to admire my long legs, thin waist and full breasts on display before leaning over to kiss my forehead. Walking to the door, his last words before leaving were, "Nothing less than first-class for you, Viv. Nothing less."

As soon as Chris closed the door behind him, with glass in hand I pushed up to sit on the bed. Using a handful of bedsheets, I wiped between my legs so I, hopefully, wouldn't drip cum on the carpet as I got to my feet. Glass, envelope and purse went with me into the bathroom. In the harsh glare of the overhead light, my reflection in the mirror gave me a fright. A good thing Chris was interested in staring at my tits rather than above my neck. My reflection in the mirror made me look demented. Residue of spit and cum on my face and chest... My makeup was ruined...

Thinking that Chris was done after he came in my mouth, I'd coated my lips with bright red lipstick to leave my trademark red kiss on Chris's cock tip. But that was before my playful sucking on his cock had revived Chris enough to ask for more time. My more serious sucking to get his cock harder before I moved to straddle him... He hadn't needed much mouth action, but even the couple of minutes of more oral sex had smeared the red of my lipstick across my upper lip, cheeks and chin. 'Christ,' I thought as I wet a washcloth to begin fixing the damage. 'I look as if I've been raised by wolves. Feral wolves!'

In one gulp I emptied the glass of cognac while scrubbing my face. Shivering and whooshing out a long breath as the brandy burned its way to my stomach, I stopped cleaning to open the three envelopes I'd received today and began counting. I was pleasantly surprised at the total amount. I couldn't help but smile as I folded the bills and placed them into my handbag. At least something had gone right! Not... a... bad... day... I thought.

Finding a scrunchy at the bottom of my handbag, I put my hair into a bun. I carry a tiny travel case in my purse. It had a small tube of toothpaste and a folding toothbrush. I dug it out from the bottom of my purse. A few seconds later I swished and spit. Any cum and cigar residue was gone leaving my breath minty fresh. Stepping into the shower, I did a quick spray down with hot water. Minutes later I stepped out of the shower squeaky clean. I freed my hair from the scrunchy and shook my hair out while toweling off.

My bed hair was a complete disaster. I gave up trying to finger-comb it into some semblance of order. It was a job for when I got home. I put my hair back into a bun and poured the last drams from the bottle of brandy and gulped it down. I felt bad shotgunning wonderful cognac, but I was in a hurry. The rain had changed from deluge to a light shower. If I was lucky, I'd get home before it picked up again. Taking a last look around the suite to make certain I wasn't leaving anything behind, I tossed the key card on the bed and left.

I'd acted my ass off today giving men their happy time. Now that my day was over, I let my mad out!

***************

Marla had accepted me canceling my scheduled Friday appointments with good grace. One reason for her easy acceptance was the large amount of money I'd earn her over the weekend. But now she was trying to convince me to meet her newest client tomorrow for what I called a Meet-n-Greet Nooner. I was still in a foul mood thinking about that asswipe Danny. I wasn't very keen on fucking a new client a couple of hours before my long weekend began. Over the phone I'd tried to get out of it. But I couldn't say no to her rare offer to meet outside her office, especially at a bistro that served divine espresso cake.

I took one bite of delicious cake and instantly felt my foul mood lighten to simply being irritated at Danny. "Why me? Send one of the other girls."

"They're busy and it's an office visit. You clean up rather well as a businesswoman and you make a very good first impression of our service on the newbies," Marla replied, trying to sweet-talk me into accepting. "Clients who meet you have a very high rate of calling again to schedule another appointment."

I'd allowed myself to be convinced by her flattery. And cake...

**********

By the time I arrived at my Brownstone, the calming effect of coffee cake had worn off. I stopped at the third floor and pounded on Danny's door. Nothing. No sound from inside. Danny either was out or he was ignoring me. Ignoring ME! Again! If there's ignoring to be done, I do it!!!

"If you're not home, that's okay! But if you're ignoring me then you're an asshole," I yelled at the door! I would have stomped my foot, but I was wearing stilettos and didn't want to chance snapping a heel off.

"Even if you're not at home and even if you aren't ignoring me, you're still an asshole," I yelled at the door one last time before turning away. Turning back, I thumped the door one last time with my hand. Did my last sentence make sense? Probably not. Was it stupid yelling at and hitting the door? Probably so. But it made me feel better as I stomped up the stairs to my apartment.

It wasn't my fault Danny got all prissy pissy last night. Well, it wasn't! Not my fault at all, I thought virtuously as I began my regular routine after arriving home after a day of sex. I added more condoms to my purse than usual. Tomorrow I'd be leaving for the weekend so I might need more than usual. I stomped on the floor as I walked hoping I was disturbing the asshole in his apartment below mine.

Danny still hadn't knocked on my door to apologize by the time I was in my tub. Hot water and apple-scented bath oil began to replace irritation at the asshole with peace and serenity. Then I had an idea and vaulted from the tub. Wrapping a towel around me, I was dripping apple-scented bath oil water on my hardwood floor as I went to a spot that I knew was directly over Danny's small den. On hands and knees, I put my ear to the floor. I didn't hear anything. Not even the TV.

"I know you're down there," I growled and stood up. "I know you're down there," I growled louder. I kicked at the floor only to end up on my ass as my foot skidded across the slippery wet, apple scented bath oiled floor. "Oww," I cried. "Now look what you made me do!" I didn't know if I was accusing the floor or Danny or both.

Carefully standing up in the widening puddle of apple scented bath oil water, I rubbed my ass cheek and hobbled back to my bath. The fucking water was tepid by now and I really didn't feel like a bath anyway. I drained the tub and sluiced off suds and excess apple-scented bath oil in my shower as I washed my hair.

Sitting gingerly on a bruised ass, I indulged myself with three packets of Pop-Tarts and two large glasses of milk while drying my hair. Feeling bloated, I made sure my damned alarm clock wasn't set to wake me up early at the time when Danny usually woke me up. With a last muttered, Asshole, I huddled under my blankets and tried to sleep.

Chapter 24...

The Present... Friday Morning...

I'd wanted to sleep late today and rest up for my long weekend. Instead, I was up with the dawn. Hell! I was up before the fucking dawn! So I wasn't in a good mood when I lifted my head from the pillow just enough to stare blearily at the numbers on my alarm clock. I dropped my face into the pillow with a mumbled, yet heartfelt, 'Fucking asshole!' Pretty pointless since Danny wasn't here to hear me. But it needed to be said! I hadn't slept well and I was in a bad mood.

Days and nights spent with Danny had re-wired my sleep time. Years of growing up on a farm made it impossible for Danny not to wake up with the dawn! Time spent with Danny during the wedding… Nights spent with Danny after the wedding when he woke me up in, admittedly delicious ways, for fooling around before he needed to leave for work... The asshole seemed to have infected me with waking up at 'Danny Time'. That bastard!

The sky was dark grey with thick clouds, but at least the rain had stopped. Barely past fucking dawn and I'm awake! I'm not a morning person. One big plus in my book for being a call girl was that I rarely had to get out of bed before 9am. Yet here I was, awake and not in a good mood.

"All because of that asshole, Danny," I growled. Perhaps unfairly, I thought. Then I thought, FUCK FAIR! I was cold! The bastard had nudged my thermostat down last night before he'd stormed out of my apartment. I like temperatures that Danny griped smothered him. He'd nudge the thermostat down when I wasn't looking and I'd nudge it back to where I liked it when I felt cold. My anger must have kept me warm last night, I hadn't felt the chill in my apartment. Now my apartment was an icebox and, of course, it was Danny's fault! My feet were cold! Danny's fault! I needed to pee! Danny's fault! I was watching the sun rise through my window! Danny's fault! I was alone in my bed with no one to warm my feet! Danny's fault! No one to yell at...

"That fucking asshole," I growled again as I crawled out of bed, dragging and wrapping a blanket around me. I slipped on my fluffy bunny slippers and listened to their shush... shush... shush across my floor in time to my slow, shuffling walk. I nudged the thermostat back to where I liked it. I began my morning routine to warmer air blowing on me. Pee, gripe about the cold toilet seat, curse Danny out, brush teeth, wash face, exchange blanket for my robe, curse Danny out, start coffee, drink first and second cup of coffee, brush out bed hair, gulp third cup of coffee, pee again. Pop Tarts washed down with a fourth cup of coffee, curse Danny out! By the time I'd finished the basics of my morning routine, my apartment was warm enough that I could leave the cocoon of my robe to take my morning shower.

In the apartment below mine, Danny would be dressing and getting ready for work. I wanted to stomp across my floor so Danny would know I was still aggravated with him. But I couldn't do that and give the asshole the satisfaction of knowing I was aggravated with him! Dammit! There's nothing more frustrating than being mad at someone but you can't let him know you're mad at him because then he'd know you cared enough to be mad at him and the worst thing in the world was for him to know you were mad because… My ability to circular logic my way through how I felt failed. I needed more coffee! 

Looking out my window, I was on my fifth cup when I saw Danny in his overalls on the street walking towards the subway. I wanted to open my window and yell, 'You asshole!' But then I remembered I didn't care. Instead of yelling out my window, I went to pee again.

When Danny disappeared from sight I did a few household chores. Packing my suitcase with the essentials I'd need for the weekend occupied me for a time. I took another warm shower just because I felt like it and got dressed for my appointment. This was a rare office visit, so I dressed well in a dark blue pencil skirt, a white silk blouse, and a navy blue blazer.

**********

I'd given up my German heiress alias because I'd used that with Tim. 'People' might be looking for that persona. I had no idea who these people were, but I knew I didn't want to attract their attention. I wore sensible flats now instead of heels to disguise my height a little. Stylish, large-lensed, tinted glasses that covered much of my face added to the disguise. I was just a normal, rich American now with a Southern accent. I even had a manila envelope stuffed with blank papers I carried into 'meetings'. But underneath my business attire, I had on my 'business frillies'. The shelf bra and garter belt with matching lace panties I wore under my boring business clothes were guaranteed to get a guy's motor running.

A shelf bra is pretty much what the name implies. It forms a small, barely there, 'shelf' my Double Ds rests on. My boobs are lifted and supported but not confined by bra cups. The bounce of my large boobs and hard nipples were very noticeable at times through the gap in my blazer. On the sidewalk, I was aware of the men appreciating the way my tits swayed in time to my steps.

At the office building, I checked the time. It looked like I was going to be a little early. That was fine with me. In the building's foyer, I stood to one side to check if Marla had sent another e-mail to my phone. She hadn't. My client was in his late thirties. A first-timer of our service. No special requests noted. Looked like all he wanted was a happy Nooner. He'd finish out his boring day at his boring job before leaving to go home to his boring wife. He'd be fine for a while, then he'd crave excitement again and call Marla for a girl. After our meeting, I'd text Marla a note of his likes and dislikes. That way Marla would have more info for the next girl to see him.

Mr. Simons, 'Please, call me Gareth', was pretty much what I'd expected. A little shorter than me with love handles and a soft belly that was overlapping his belt more than a little bit. He used a cologne I didn't like the smell of but at least he didn't reek like he'd taken a bath in it. After words of introduction to satisfy his secretary that I was visiting on legitimate business, Gareth closed and locked the door to his office. I sat in the middle of the small couch in his office and patted the seat next to me so he'd have to sit close.

"Wow. I saw the pictures your, ahh, manager, sent me to look through but you're even prettier in person," Gareth told me, sitting down. "I was told your service was expensive but you're certainly worth it. You're very pretty."

"Thank you," I replied with a smile as I moved closer to Gareth. Initiating physical contact with the client ASAP was something you learned on the job. Twisting at the waist to face Gareth, I took his wrist and lifted his arm to rest along the back of the couch so I could move close enough to press myself lightly against Gareth's side. Putting my forearm atop his arm, I bent my elbow and made a fist. Resting the side of my head against my fist, I used my other hand to fluff my hair down my back and out of the way. These movements pulled my blazer open and Gareth's eyes were drawn to my chest where my Double-Ds were straining the buttons of my silk blouse.

I reached over to play with Gareth's tie. "So, I'm told that this is the first time you've called our service. Have you been using another agency?" If Gareth had some weird, crazy sexual requests that another service wouldn't, or couldn't, satisfy it was best to find out now.

"Oh, ahh no. No. I've never called a, umm... I was at a luncheon meeting and, umm, one of the men there, ahh, he was telling us about how exclusive this one service was and, umm, I just thought that. You know, maybe, I'd, ahh..."

Wow, Gareth was even more uncomfortable than Danny talking about 'umm, you know'. I widened my smile and patted my hand gently on Gareth's chest as I filled in the uncomfortable pause, "So, you decided to call a call girl? Hey! Don't worry. You can call me what I am. Hell, you can call me a filthy whore while spanking my ass if you want to." Gareth looked shocked at my language. I put my hand on the back of his neck and pulled his mouth towards mine. Our lips met in a light kiss that didn't last long. My lips fluttered over his as I whispered, "Do you want to? Spank me?"

"No! I mean, I don't want to spank you. I just thought... I, uh, I..."

I laughed. Gripping his tie, I pulled his mouth to mine for a real kiss, then rubbed noses before moving my mouth to breath in his ear, "Maybe you didn't before, but now you can't stop thinking about putting me across your lap. Can you? Your hand spanking my ass cheeks until they're all red..." I took pity on the poor, stuttering guy and let go of his tie so he could regain some composure while I changed the subject, "You've never used an agency before, so, why now?" I asked again.

"I, I mean we... My wife and I, we've been married for almost twenty years and for the last year or so... Well, for longer than that, she... She hasn't shown much interest in, you know... I'm not that old, and I get... You know..." Wow, Gareth could give even Danny lessons in how to fill up a simple story with awkward pauses. "So, when at a luncheon a business partner mentioned the, ah, agency you work for... He said that it was very, very private and, and... I guess I just wanted to try..."

Wanting to leave as soon as possible, I cut to the heart of the problem without ten minutes of stuttering pauses. "So, you called because your wife has been neglecting you and you're horny."

"I don't want you to think I don't love her," Gareth hastened to add. "She's a really great wife and mother. I can't think of anyone I'd rather be with if she just, you know... If she just..."

Yeah, well. I wasn't here to offer marriage advice. "Yeah, well. I've met a lot of men who need that 'if she just' that wives don't give. Don't worry, I know exactly what you need," I kept my voice soft while loosening Gareth's tie. "What you need is a little of the TLC you're not getting at home."

Standing up in front of Gareth, I watched his eyes follow as I pulled my skirt up my thighs until my panties were almost in view. Spreading my legs, I moved forwards until my shins pressed against the couch. Gareth sat without moving as his eyes lifted from the hem of my dress to follow my hands as I began to un-button my blouse. He looked like he was in shock as I bent from the waist to display my naked boobs in front of his face. Taking his hands in mine, I placed them on my breasts. He knew what to do and he was squeezing and playing with my boobs as I pulled his tie undone and tossed it on the floor. After loosening his collar, I pulled my boobs away. I gave him a nice kiss, adding, in what I called my Triple S voice... Soft, Slow and Sultry... "You just get comfortable and relax, Baby. When it comes to Tender-Loving-Care, you just hit the jackpot."

I sat, straddling Gareth's thighs, and started un-buckling his belt as Gareth's hands found my breasts again. "When was the last time you had a blow job?" I asked.

"It's been a while," Gareth answered softly. Poor guy was practically vibrating with anticipation.

"You won't be able to say that in a few minutes, Baby," I promised as I finished opening his belt buckle. The snap and zipper of his pants were undone quickly. Separating hands from boobs again, I slid off his legs and squatted on my knees. Gareth lifted his ass as I worked his pants down to his ankles.

My hands on Gareth's knees pushed his legs open so I could knee walk closer. His underwear was still on, and I traced my fingertips back and forth over the outline of the hard, still-hidden cock. I met Gareth's eyes, "You know, most of the girls I knew in high school... They'd only give their boyfriend's cock a little mouth loving because it was expected. Not me though. I loved sucking on my boyfriend's cock. Do you know why?"

"Why," Gareth asked in a breathy wheeze as I rubbed the palm of my hand over his shaft through his boxers.

"I loved watching and hearing how my boyfriends reacted while I sucked their cocks." Okay, I was lying. But Gareth didn't need to know that.

There was a distinct wet spot on the front of Gareth's underwear where the tip of his cock was. I touched the spot with a fingertip, "Mmm, you must be happy to see me," I laughed as I slid my hand through the fly of his boxers to encircle his shaft.

His cock felt pretty much average in my fist as I said, "Your poor balls must be full of cum."

I withdrew my hand, pulling out Gareth's cock with it. I put my hand back around his shaft and began a slow hand job. "At least, I hope your balls are full of cum. You know what I loved best about sucking my boyfriend's cock," I asked before leaning in to lick the underside of Gareth's cock from balls to tip. "I loved making them come in my mouth," I lied again.

Another long, slow lick and, "There was just something about making a boyfriend leave a big, tasty load of cum in my mouth that excited me."

Okay, so much of what I said was stretching the truth a lot. One lie after another... Sucking on a boyfriend's cock had neither excited nor disgusted me in high school. I'd been one of those girls who'd sucked cock because it was expected. And I'd never let a guy come in my mouth until I'd become a whore. But Gareth didn't need to know that since my story excited him and that was why I was here, after all. 

Deciding that was enough lies, after my next slow lick up his shaft I lifted his shaft with a finger and took his cock to the back of my mouth in one fast move that made Gareth gasp. His cock was a decent size, but I was in no danger of choking on it as I began rapidly bobbing my head over his lap.

I pulled back so just the tip of my tongue moved over the head of Gareth's cock. "Mmm, nice and hard," I whispered between licks. "I like that. I just know I'm gonna have fun with your cock. I love the way a cock feels in my mouth. How it slides over my tongue, the fleshy tip bumping against the back of my throat. I love the taste of cum and the sounds a man makes while I'm sucking him dry."

I heard Gareth's quick, in-drawn breath when I pushed forward again to take his length deep. When I felt the tip press against the back of my throat, I pushed harder to take more... Then a little more as I controlled my urge to gag. My lips and nose flattened out against Gareth's groin under his bush. My drool wet Gareth's bush as I bobbed my head up and down over his lap in a loud, sloppy blow job. 

Thick strands of saliva connected mouth to cock as I leaned back to slow-stroke the wet, slick length while clearing my throat and catching my breath. Gareth's groans and the wet, slurpy sounds as I alternated licking with sucking were the only sounds in the room for several minutes.

With hand and mouth, I brought Gareth close before stopping. Lowering my head to lick his ball sack while rolling his balls with my hand, I asked in a whisper, "When was the last time you came into a woman's mouth?"

"My wife... She never would...," Gareth answered in a strained voice. Yeah, he was close.

I leaned forward, opened my mouth wide, and took him deep for a long five-count while tonguing the underside of his shaft. Gareth's moan lasted for the same five-count. Pulling back again, I caught my breath and smiled up at him, "I love it when a man's cum fills my mouth. The taste. The sound a man makes..." I made Gareth moan again with another deep, long stay at the back of my mouth.

I pulled back again to heighten Gareth's excitement and spoke softly while moving the soft bulb of his tip over my lips, "I'm going to suck your cock until you're ready to come." Edging his cock with my thumb, I continued, "When you're close, I want you to hold my head still. I want you to fuck my mouth like you're fucking my pussy. I want you to mouth fuck me until I taste your cum."

"All right," Gareth was quick to agree. I think he would have agreed to anything. He was so close… His poor cock had been deprived of TLC for so long I probably could have made him come with just words.

I began working Gareth's hard cock with quick, short bobs of my head. I had to keep up the fast, rhythmic action of sliding his shaft between my lips for only a minute before hands clasped the sides of my head. Gareth's ass only moved a few times in short jerking motions to fuck my mouth before he began filling my mouth and I tasted the first of many streams of thick cum on my tongue.

Poor guy had definitely been deprived of sex as I felt his cock pulse several times against my tongue as a large quantity of cum was pumped into my mouth. I kept my lips clamped around his shaft as gravity pulled cum over my tongue to pool behind my lips. Gareth finally released my head with a long groan of completion and collapsed backwards against the couch.

With my lips clamped around just the tip, I milked the shaft with my hand. Once satisfied I'd collected all the cum I could, I pulled away from the now satisfied cock in my hand. I let Gareth watch as I played his cum over my tongue and lips until I swallowed. Without a word, I stood to collect my handbag and brought it back to the couch. Gareth seemed content to remain still, waiting to see what I intended to do next. After wiping cum and spit from my lips, using my compact's mirror I applied a thick coating of red lipstick and then left my trademark kiss on his cock tip. "Now you have my seal of approval as one of my PCs... Preferred Customers."

Gareth laughed and still seemed content to watch as I used hand towels from my purse to wipe the lipstick off my lips. Looking in the compact, I scrubbed until I was satisfied my face was clean. Only then did I lean over, and not giving Gareth a chance to refuse my lips, kissed him long and hard with tongue.

Still looking a bit dazed, Gareth continued to watch as I sat, straddling his thighs again. I ignored his hands fondling my still-bared tits as I quickly touched up my makeup. When I stood up to button up my blouse and put my blazer on, Gareth asked in a disappointed voice, "You're leaving? But I thought we had more time?"

"We do. But for what I want you to do next," I replied as I sat on the couch close to Gareth. "Well, it would make for some interesting noises that I don't think you'd want your secretary to hear."

"What...," Gareth started, then cleared his throat. "What would you want next?"

Gareth's cock was still half-hard and exposed between his legs. I ran a fingertip over it before closing my fingers around the shaft. Slow stroking, I answered, "What I want next is for you to call and find out what day we can be together again. Then I want you to reserve a hotel suite where we can meet." I leaned in close kiss his neck between whispering, "And when we meet... I want you to put me across your lap... and spank me really hard... for being such a dirty... filthy... cum whore... until my ass cheeks are glowing red before you fuck my pussy."

"Oh, my God..." I couldn't tell if Gareth shivered in anticipation or from my hot breath on his neck. Or from language he probably hadn't heard a woman use in a long time. Resisting the urge to laugh, I stood up and adjusted my skirt again. I had a strong hunch I'd be seeing him again soon. Gareth seemed suddenly shy and I waited as he dressed. After he stammered and hemmed and hawed around the subject of his tipping me for 'services rendered', I cut to the chase.

"Okay, here's a polite way to gift a call girl," I began. "Just decide what you feel is a good amount and put it into an envelope. Then just say, I'd like to give you a present, or something like that. Anything between three to five hundred is a very nice present."

Gareth took out his wallet and handed me all the bills inside, asking if it was enough. "I wish I had more. I haven't felt so good in a long time."

I don't count money in front of clients. I put the bills in my bag and assured him I was certain it was enough. Then I had a thought on how to make the poor guy feel even better. Reaching into my purse, I pulled out the first bill my fingers grasped.

"You know something, Gareth? I had fun. I know… I know, that's what you'd expect a call girl to say, but I really had fun. You're a nice guy, so I'm going to give you a gift." Folding the bill, I pulled his belt out enough so I could push it down the front of his pants to rest beside his cock. "I bet when you woke up today, you didn't think you'd be a bought-and-paid-for gigolo to a call girl." I rubbed the outline of his still half-hard cock through his trousers. "If you decide you'd like to see me again, I'll expect you to earn that money."

Telling Gareth to 'arrange things so his cock wasn't so noticeable in his trousers, I opened his office door before he could reply. Unable to say anything in front of his secretary, instead we made small talk as I waited for the elevator. When the DING signaled the arrival of the elevator, out of sight of anyone, I gave Gareth a wicked smile and his crotch one final squeeze before the doors opened. In the elevator, I felt satisfied with my performance. Gareth reminded me a lot of what Danny might have been at that age if he hadn't met me. Still bumbling around and very uptight about sex. At the thought of Danny, my smile became a frown, and a muttered, 'That asshole!'

I smiled at the startled man standing in the elevator beside me and assured him I wasn't talking about him.

Less than forty minutes after I entered the building, I was back on the sidewalk. I counted my gift and was very satisfied with the amount. Texting Marla the job was done so she'd deposit money into my bank account, I added that he'd probably have a spanking fetish so I, or the next girl, would know what to expect. All-in-all, not bad money for less than an hour. Plus, I really did have fun teasing Gareth.

Remembering how Danny had accused me of enjoying what I do more than I admitted to, I snapped my sunglasses open and put them on. Well, what if I do! If I enjoy myself from time to time while making a boat load of money! That's nobody's business but mine! That fucking asshole!

**********

I retrieved my suitcase from my apartment and was leaning against a street sign on the corner outside of Marla's office building in time. The limo driver was the same guy who'd picked me up the last time. The ritual was the same, too. My cell phone was taken and tossed into a metal box so it couldn't be traced. An electronic gizmo was run over me to look for bugs, the listening and location kind not the creepy-crawly type. My suitcase and contents were also searched and gizmo'd. It sounds extreme but there was going to be a lot of cash at the game. I didn't mind extreme measures to keep the location of the game a secret.

The estate I was taken to was different than the place the last game was held. The rich guy hosting the game was the same man though. He showed me to a bedroom he said was mine. When asked, I opened my suitcase and showed him the selection of French Maid costumes I had in my suitcase. Selecting one, he asked me to put it on. I had white and black thigh high hose. He selected the white. I stripped and dressed quickly in the maid's outfit he'd selected.

I must have passed muster because… "We've got a few minutes before the other players show up," I was told as he pushed me onto the bed. Knowing what he wanted, I crawled further onto the bed. I pulled my long hair out from under me and fanned it out above my head. Pants dropped and I spread my legs to show the slit in my crotchless panties as the host followed me onto the bed. Kneeling between my legs, he used his hand to place the tip of his cock against my pussy.

I hadn't anticipated being fucked so soon after arriving and hadn't moistened my pussy with lubricant. My employer was in a hurry, and I was tight and dry for his first thrusts. My cries and lip-biting sounds of discomfort at being taken so fast and hard slowed him not at all. Thankfully, I moistened quickly. He was in a rush so didn't want anything except a quicky. Afterwards, as he continued to slowly move his cock in my now cum lubricated pussy, I sighed, knowing that the first load of cum of what would be many this weekend was done with. My employer must have been thinking the same, except he had a different view, a male ego view, as he gloated, "Now all the others can have my sloppy seconds."

After he left, I washed my pussy and put on a clean pair of crotchless panties. Washing the cum from the used ones, I left them hanging over a chair to dry. As I brushed my hair in front of the mirror, I shook my head at the image of me in my maid's outfit. It was black with a very low bodice and a skirt that barely covered my ass. Stupid little cap. Everything was trimmed in the stupid white lace you'd expect. Amazing what men thought was sexy.

I was in the kitchen taking inventory of what was available to eat and drink when the host walked in. "Damn. You're just as perfect as I remember from last time," he told me as hands began to roam from my ass to my tits. One hand went down my bodice to pull my tits up as his other hand pulled the neckline down until my tits were completely exposed. I was told to wear the silly costume that way for the rest of the weekend.

Knowing how much money I was going to make, I would have agreed to walk around with my tits hanging out for a week. At least he hadn't stripped me of my black and white panties. Finding a steak knife, I cut the sides of the bodice until it wasn't digging into my under-boobs. Just as I completed checking what groceries and booze were available, I heard the front door open and the voices of arriving card players.

"It's showtime," I said to the empty kitchen…

The Present... Sunday...

I tiredly dragged my rolling suitcase out of the taxi in front of my apartment building. My two-day French Maid Marathon was blessedly over. My boobs were swollen from poker players grabbing them 'for luck' as I brought sandwiches and drinks to their table. My pussy was sore because as players lost their buy-in and dropped out of the game, they started looking for other entertainment. I was that 'other' entertainment.

Having swollen boobs and a sore pussy wasn't what made me struggle to pull my suitcase up the outside steps to enter my building. No, it was lack of sleep that made me have to try three times before I got my key into my door's lock. Once inside I dragged the suitcase to my bedroom and collapsed across the bed. My shins and feet were hanging off the bed as I shook my shoes off.

Muscles began relaxing. I knew I should get up. I needed food. I needed a shower. I was dying for a long, hot soak in my tub. I needed the strength I didn't have to accomplish all the things on my list. I was about to drift off to sleep when a loud banging on my apartment's door roused me. Go away, I muttered into my bed's blanket. The knocking stopped, then began again even louder. Only one person can be this aggravating, I groused as I got off the bed. Asshole must have heard my suitcase being rolled across his ceiling. The knocking began a third time just before I threw open the door.

"What!...," I began, then couldn't finish my question as Danny grabbed me up into an over-enthusiastic bear hug. "I. Can't. Breathe..." I managed after several seconds.

"Sorry. Sorry, I'm just so glad you're okay," Danny said as his arms released me. Hands gripped my forearms to steady me as I stumbled backwards. "I was calling and calling all weekend. I got worried when you didn't call back."

"Of course, I'm okay. You knew I'd be gone for the weekend."

Danny's hands still holding my arms began to shake me. "And you couldn't stop fucking long enough to return one damned phone call!?"

"Stop shaking me," I demanded, wrenching my arms out of his grasp. "And yell a little louder! I'm sure there's at least one person on the First Floor who doesn't think I'm a slut now," I continued hotly, slamming my door. "I didn't return your damned phone calls because I didn't know you were calling. All our phones were locked up in a metal box. Jesus, Danny! There was over four million in cash there. No phone calls were allowed and no one could leave until the game was over."

Danny took a long breath and let it out. "Okay. Okay... Okay, I guess I overreacted."

I smacked his forehead with the palm of my hand, "DUH! Ya think?"

Danny held up his hands defensively, "Look, can we sit down? I have something you need to read."

I led the way and Danny sat on the couch. I sat in the chair. I was mad and didn't want to sit next to him. "Knowing you'd be gone this weekend, I decided to do some research on getting our money..."

"Did you find a way," I interrupted to ask hopefully.

"No. I started by looking into the law firm your, ahh, client worked at. Do you remember a Ms. Phillips?"

"Sure. She was kind'a the receptionist for the firm and Tim's secretary."

Danny handed me a folded paper. My tired eyes couldn't focus and Danny waited, grinning his stupid grin while I dug my glasses out of my handbag to put them on. He never let a chance go by when he could tease me about sometimes needing reading glasses. Fucking nerd!

"I doubt Ms. Phillips is anything anymore," he said as I began to read what appeared to be a copier print-out of a newspaper article.

"She's missing?" The gist of the story was lacking in details. Ms. Phillips was divorced and lived alone. When she didn't show up to work for two days and wasn't answering her phone, someone at Tim's firm had called the police. The police had found signs of a struggle in Ms. Phillips' apartment. She was still missing and the police, 'suspect foul play.'

Danny handed me another page. Another small newspaper story. "A partner at the firm is missing, too. His wife said he left for work. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary, but he never arrived at work. The police haven't even found his car."

"Sounds like someone is looking for the money Tim stole," I said.

"DUH! Ya think?" Danny probably would have slapped my forehead if I'd been in easy reach. "Now do you know why I was worried all the time you were out having fun?"

"Fun? You think staying awake for almost fifty hours... Being felt up 'for luck' while giving lap dances was fun? Jesus, Danny," I shouted, mad as hell now. "You'll never understand that what I did this weekend was just as much a job as what you do and..."

I would have gone on in my rant except Danny was suddenly on his feet, pulling me up into another tight hug and kissing me. It was like something from a bad 1950s film noir movie. It didn't help that, just like the girl in that bad 1950s movie, after a few seconds I was returning the kiss with enthusiasm. When Danny broke our kiss, his arms remained around me. I sighed and leaned against his hard body, resting my head on his shoulder.

"I'm just glad you're okay. Did we just make up," Danny asked.

"I think so," I whispered. "But I'm so tired I might still have some mad left in me I just don't have the energy to let out." I leaned into Danny more. "I'm dead tired and my period is gonna start soon. I always seem to get emotional about now. Raincheck on the make-up sex?"

"Okay." Danny agreed, his arms tightened around me and then I heard him sniff. "Have you been smoking?"

"Just lighting cigars while trying not to inhale. Though there was so much second-hand smoke in the room I may as well have smoked my own cigar. I was trying to muster the energy to shower and wash my hair when you started pounding on my door."

Given a task he could help me do, Danny led me to my bathroom. "Bath or shower," he asked.

I gazed longingly at my over-sized bathtub but shook my head. "Shower. I'd fall asleep and drown in the tub."

"I won't let you drown," Danny stated and started the water to fill my tub. Under my directions he adjusted the water temperature to just below boiling and added bath oil and bubble bath. I stood unmoving as he undressed me. After helping me into the tub, Danny opened his legs to either side as I rested between them to lean back against his chest. Hot water and suds rose up until I felt like I was floating... I don't remember when he turned the water off.

The bath water was cool and most of the suds were gone when Danny shook me awake. I pointed towards the shower and Danny shoved me under the spray. I felt sooo much better as I began washing my hair. When my stomach growled loud enough for Danny to hear over the sound of the shower, he left with the promise to find me food. A few minutes later he was staring at me through the glass of the stall. "Olivia! You have no food! How can you live without food? You only have three bottles of beer, a jar of mayonnaise and a carton of milk that smells sour in your refrigerator. That and boxes of Pop-Tarts in your cabinet are all you have! What the hell do you eat?"

Damn! No milk for my morning coffee... "I get a lot of takeout from the Chinese place down the street," I replied in defense of my diet. "And my mom always has leftovers I can steal."

Danny shook his head and left muttering he'd order a pizza. "Extra onions," I called out and added, "And ask if the delivery guy can bring some milk, too."

I liked onions but I was usually careful about onion breath. But only Danny was here tonight and he didn't count. The pizza arrived as I was toweling off. Wrapping my hair under a towel turban, I wore my smaller bathrobe while Danny wore my larger house robe as we sat on the floor around my coffee table and ate pizza while finishing off my beer. Danny later claimed I fell asleep with pizza crust in my mouth. Maybe I did because the next thing I remember clearly was the alarm clock next to my bed going off…

The Present… Monday Morning…

I heard Danny slap my alarm off as he rolled away from me. I grumped and searched for him with my arm because his warmth was gone, leaving me alone under my sheets. Raising my head, I watched as he sat on the edge of the bed and stretched out back and shoulder muscles. Very nice muscles, I thought as I reached to grab his arm to pull him back under the covers.

"Don't tempt me, Olivia," he said as he stood and easily slipped from my grasp. "I need to get ready for work."

"Screw work," I grumped. "We're millionaires."

"Not yet we are. If I start missing work my dad will find out and want to know why."

"But it's the middle of the night," I complained, lifting my arm enough to wave my hand at my still, mostly, dark bedroom.

"No, it's not," Danny replied while pulling on his jeans. "The sun is half over the horizon already."

To me? Dawn was the middle of the night! I'm not a morning person. Danny, however, was. Growing up on a working farm had given him the detestable habit of waking up bright-eyed-and-bushy-tailed at ungodly hours. Listening to Danny close my bathroom door and… I sighed. All hope of going back to sleep was dashed. Now, I needed to pee.

When Danny reappeared, 'Did you lower the seat?', turned, and then reappeared again, I swung my legs out to put my feet on the cold floor. "Make me coffee before you leave for your apartment," I grumped. "And turn my thermostat back up!"

Danny complained that my apartment was always too warm. He'd sneak and turn the temperature down when I wasn't watching. Danny left mumbling something about, "Turn the thermostat up. Make me coffee. Put the seat down. Worse than my mom!"

It was still a day early, but I checked anyway. My thighs were clean. My time of the month hadn't begun. Going to sleep while my hair was wet had it tangled into a rat's nest. I tried finger-combing, but it was beyond help. In sport shorts, bra and a light piece of fluff Charlie had bought me so I could pretend it warded off the chill in my apartment, I joined Danny in the kitchen just as the last of the coffee began gurgling into the pot. I grabbed a piece of pizza we hadn't eaten last night from the box and swilled down the last of the now flat beer left in a bottle while waiting for the coffee machine to drip its last drops into the pot. Cold, hard pizza and warm, flat beer. The Breakfast of Champions...

Danny looked pointedly at my flat stomach and shook his head. "How? How do you stay so skinny," he asked, handing me my coffee. "I've never seen you exercise. You eat like a frat boy. Nothing but junk food and snacks!"

"I prefer to think of myself as slender. Not skinny," I said to set the record straight and shrugged. "It's just something I inherited from my dad. He can still eat anything and not gain a pound. Drives my mom crazy."

Danny rinsed his cup out and pulled his keys from his pocket. Waiting until I'd finished chewing a tough piece of crust, he leaned in for a short kiss. "I'll be ready in a few minutes," I told him. "I've got things to do today. Wait for me and I'll go to your work and boost your rep with your co-workers."

Danny agreed to wait and left for his apartment. It took me only a short time to dress. Pulling my hair into a frizzy ponytail, I added a baseball cap and joined Danny in his apartment. I arranged things to be the last to leave his apartment. Somehow, I forgot to lock the door behind me. Oopsy...

Boosting Danny's rep with a few kisses didn't take long. I did have something I wanted to get over with. Marla required a clean STD test every month. I scheduled my monthly visits to a clinic while on my 'Menstrual Vacations'. I made the phone calls I needed to make while at the clinic. Back at my Brownstone, I let myself into Danny's apartment. Thirty minutes later the men I'd called arrived. I passed out color swatches and they began moving everything I wanted to keep to the center of the room. The furniture went to the dump.

I was certain Danny would thank me. Someday...