The restaurant I chose for our date had an outdoor wine garden which featured pergolas with cascading grapevines, not fake plastic grapevines, the real thing. I had asked Tim to request a reservation in the wine garden for us. Yes, I’m a romantic and I had the feeling Tim might be as well. Fate was kind, I got an excellent parking spot, always a good omen, and I walked up precisely at the time I said I would meet him. The restaurant has benches outside and Tim was there, wearing slacks, an oxford shirt, and a big smile. He stood up to greet me, and I liked what I saw in person. He was moderately good-looking, not a knock-out, but something I could tell in person and not so much from his dating profile photos was that he was a classy guy, for one thing, he was wearing a Rolex. Since this was a ‘first date, chemistry check’ kind of thing, I sat down on the bench and we started chatting. I definitely felt no regrets about setting up this date, unlike a few others I’d been on. I guess I gave him some non-verbal “go” cue. He then motioned that we should go in and get our table. I liked how he didn’t seem to be forcing the conversation or deliberately moving along the date. It seemed effortless and natural for him. Different guys respond to different things, and I spent the next half hour sipping my Chardonnay and trying to take my measure of the man. I told him about my career and what my concerns and ambitions were, and he came off as very supportive. We had a very rambling and wide-ranging conversation, e.g., we had a few favorite books in common, while we nibbled on tapas.

We ordered dinner, discussing various selections before making ours. The outdoor ambience was lush and added to the overall romantic aura. While we were waiting for our meal to be served, he talked a little about his ex-wife. This is always a giveaway on a date. If a date speaks evil about his ex, it’s a dealbreaker for me. I just don’t like men who can’t respect the women who either are or were in their lives. He didn’t say anything negative, just that she was from Manhattan and missed the city. She moved with him when his work took him here to Atlanta. She missed her friends and family and it had stifled her career as a journalist for a specific publication to be away from New York City, so it seemed as though their divorce was amicable. I haven’t been married. A few serious relationships, and I could speak evil of my ex boyfriends, but I save that for my friends!

My next mini-mission on the date was to figure out what he liked about me. His body language definitely was saying he was into me, and I was flattered when I eventually determined it was my mind he liked. A really nice conversationalist, he actually listened to me, instead of just waiting until I shut up so he could get on with his part. After dinner I asked him if he wanted to continue our date elsewhere. I had a small lounge in mind where we could have a drink or two and continue getting to know each other. I told him about the lounge. I wasn’t sure if he knew of it, he said he didn’t. He’d only been on the site for a month after taking some time to decompress after his divorce and work on his golf game. He decided to try internet dating since he wasn’t into meeting women in bars or at his work for a major corporation. He told me while we were in the cab heading to the lounge that he’d been on two dates from the dating site so far, but the women had too much baggage, meaning they had blathered on about issues with their exes ad nauseum. I smiled, since this was one of my pet peeves, too.

At the lounge, we ordered lemon vodka martinis and talked about places we’d traveled and other topics that kept us occupied till I noticed it was 11:00pm on Tim’s Rolex. “Wow, the time flew by tonite…” Tim confirmed with a quick flick of his wrist about how late it was and responded, “I don’t know what to say except…Ditto! I’ve enjoyed our evening very much. You’re wonderful. Truly.” Then before I knew it, as if some ventriloquist had control of my jaw, I came back with, “Our evening doesn’t have to be over just yet, does it?”

Now this is where a guy could have uttered the cliche, “Your place or mine”? Instead, Tim suggested we go to his company’s corporate condo downtown which wasn’t too far by cab. “There’s no one in town this week staying at the condo and the view over the city is spectacular.” We played it cool in the cab. But then in the elevator, we began kissing. The elevator had mirrors and it was awesome to leave my eyes somewhat open so I could see us kissing from all angles in the mirrors. He opened the door to the condo and straight ahead was a wall of windows with an amazing city view. We fell onto the first sofa with our lips all over each other.

I then stood up and unzipped the back of my dress letting it fall from my shoulders, revealing a strapless bra and panties. I knelt down to unzip him and take his cock out. “Ooo.. Is all this for me?” I complimented him on his decent size and thickness. Yes, a girl could work with this. So I begin my warm-up blowjob and my tongue tricks underneath
the head of his cock while he wrapped his hands in my hair and moaned, “Sooo good.”

Well, after he was fully hard, I just had to have some of that, so I gloved him up and climbed on top. My knees were on either side of his thighs, he’d kicked his pants off and I’d unbuttoned his shirt and flung off my bra and panties. I lowered myself on his cock and it felt so fucking good to be filled up with a big thick cock. I owned him in that moment. So I started to fuck him, told him he had a great cock. And did he get turned on, so I cranked up the dirty talk even more, slowed down to show him my cunt kisses. And went back to fucking him. I found an angle that was working for me and damn! I got off good before he did. Actually, I think he was waiting for me to get off before he did. Then he pulled me down on top of him and hooked his arms around my shoulders, he came and came hard, lifting me off the sofa with the thrusting.

Well, I slipped off, skinned the condom off of him and went to the bath to get a washcloth for him. He finished disrobing, shaking his head a little and trying to get control of himself. I curled up on the sofa next to him, washed him with the washcloth, and cuddled in close, talking about what a great fuck he was and how hard I got off. He told me that I was better in bed than anyone he could remember. I wonder if that included his wife. Wicked!

Then I pointed out that we hadn’t actually been to bed yet. So he took that as a cue and led me into one of the bedrooms. Tim decided he needed to taste my pussy, and I wasn’t going to tell him no, so I set a few pillows behind me, and invited him in. He got me off amazingly good and I smiled and relaxed, and kissed him, with an “I taste pretty good don’t I?” so he wouldn’t feel shy about kissing me with a mouth wet with my juices.

I grabbed his cock which was flying at half staff. I started a nasty sloppy wet blowjob, with lots of attention to his balls, tongue making his cock glistening, and since I know most guys love porn star noises, I made some gagging sounds as I tried to get him as far down my throat as possible. Then I teased him with pauses like, “I love.” lick lick lick “to suck cock.” And then finally, “Cum in my mouth I want to swallow it all.” I felt him swell up and start to spurt, and got every last drop all the way down my throat. He came louder this time.

Well, two pops in an hour and a half is a lot for any man, so I figured he was done for the night. I went to the bathroom to clean up and found him in bed sitting up with the light on. I slipped in beside him, kissed him tenderly, and said, “Cuddle a little while?” And he snuggled close and held me and dozed off. Started to snore, but not too loud, even. Awwww. How like a man to roll over and go to sleep after getting fucked and sucked. I wasn’t sure what I was supposed to do, so I just lay there and held him for a while. The room smelled of sex, and he felt good next to me, and I was a very happy girl that evening. Then he stirred and I realized I’d dozed off too. He sat up and gave me this big “I’m so crazy about you” hug. And he was all sweet and gentle and everything, stroking my hair and my neck, which I love. Telling me I was beautiful. I hate hearing that, but I know it’s sweet! And I sat up and looked at him with city lights flickering through the window, no moon that I could see, and told him “Ditto.”

hey how r u
kewl u
ok I wuz thinking abt u

Hard to believe after 3 years a girl is thinking about you. But girls’ minds are strange things I’ve found. Don’t even try to penetrate their brain or try to figure them out. Just let them be who they are, think what they want to. Don’t bother arguing with them unless you’re drunk and feisty, cuz they will never let you win, girls are always right. And if they’re horny and show up at your door, don’t worry if your place looks like a guy’s dorm room that hasn’t been cleaned the whole semester. They aren’t there to clean your place, they want to get laid.

I went to work not thinking much of the short Facebook chat exchange with Amanda. Got caught up in work stuff. Then toward the end of the workday, I thought about hitting the gym on the way home from work, but decided I’d go running in the riverside park instead. I needed to change into my running gear. So I went back home and was right in the middle of changing, shirtless, in my running shorts, when the doorbell rang. I thought to myself, who would be coming over at 5:30pm? And I hoped it wasn’t a buddy looking to go to dinner and hang out all night. So I answered the door all nonchalant. Standing on the other side of my threshold was Amanda. “Told ya I was thinking about ya,” she said. “Hey!” was all I could manage. I know, how lame was that. “Well, aren’t you going to invite me in?” “Sure, com’n in, I was just going out for a run. Can I get you anything to drink?” “Your place hasn’t changed much.” Of course this was a comment on my housekeeping skills, or lack thereof.

“To answer your hospitality question, no, I’m not thirsty right now, maybe later.” So reading between the lines, I wasn’t sure if this meant she wanted to go out for a bite to eat and talk about our lives, like what’s happened in the past 3 years, or if she had something else on her mind. As in sex. “I was going out for a run, but…” She interrupted, “Oh, I thought you just got back from a run.”

From where she had told me she lived 3 years ago, she was maybe only a few miles away. I was surprised I hadn’t run into her in all that time, like at a store, grabbing coffee, at a party, club, whatever. It was strange our paths hadn’t crossed. She hadn’t changed much in 3 years, maybe if anything, her hair was longer. She had really beautiful long brown hair, these expressive big brown eyes and dimples when she smiled. And a bangin’ body. As I remember, she had started out with opening a casual clothing boutique downtown that was really popular and designed some of her own stuff. Then some of her designs went viral and it was more lucrative for her to have an online biz than a retail store. So from what I heard thru the grapevine and saw on her Facebook, she now had a loft downtown where she and a few staff ran the biz. She was wearing a white tank top with a screen print of a slot machine showing triple cherries. I wondered if the tank top was one of her designs. As I remembered she had a cherries tattoo near her pussy, two ripe cherries still on the stem. Cherries were her thing. So was I the slot machine winner collecting my cherries pay-out?

Then without any foreplay, like no effort on my part, she dropped her purse to the floor and pulled down my running shorts and boxer briefs and began stroking my cock. Oh my god, I thought. This can’t be happening? Then as my cock was responding to her, she dropped to her knees and began sucking it. I put one of my hands in her hair. She was bobbing her head up and down on my cock and pulled off her tank top, barely taking her lips off my cock to slide the top off. She had a white lace bra on underneath, I could see her nipples were hard thru the lace. I grabbed a handful of her hair into my hand and pulled her off my cock and up, standing, so that we could kiss. I remember she wasn’t that into kissing before, she was more into sucking and fucking, but I wanted to ravish her. Just take her completely. So I kissed her, pulling her against me. She slid a hand between us to unbuckle her belt, unbutton her jeans, unzip and then while we were still kissing, she was tugging them down. She broke off the kiss to slide them down the rest of the way. She had matching white lace bikini panties on. I could see the cherries tattoo thru the lace. She undid her bra. “I got a nipple ring.” “Why not both?” “Wanted to be different.” I went for her tits with my mouth, pulling on the nipple ring with my lips while I slid her panties down. She was at the right position for me to throw her body over my shoulder. So I did. Working out pays off.

The bedroom was only a few steps away and I walked in with her over my shoulder and threw her down on the bed. I licked her cherries tattoo and then traced my tongue down to her shaved pussy and began licking her clit, sucking on her tiny pink lips and then tonguing her pussy in and out while she let out soft moans, her hands in my hair. “Fuck me,” she said. The magic words. I was totally prepared to give her an oral orgasm, but who am I to not honor a girl’s request to get fucked?

I opened her legs wider then decided to grab her ankles and hold her legs up in a V. I took her pussy in one thrust, she was that wet and ready to be fucked. I began pounding her. She played with her tits, licked a finger and began rubbing her clit while I was giving it to her pussy. “Harder.” she commanded. So I gave it to her. Her first orgasm was wild, she gyrated back onto my cock with her hips and screamed out like a porn chick, except I knew Amanda’s orgasm was real. I could feel her pussy pulsating rhythmically on my cock and her wet juices had drenched my balls. She unhooked us and flipped over and got on all fours and put her ass up in the air. A new tattoo, well, new to me, was the tramp stamp above her cute ass cheeks. It was a free-form filigree design in blue and pink. I love tramp stamps, they can kind of hypnotize you while you’re fucking a girl from behind. I slid my dick back into her and grabbed some of her hair, pulled her head back and wailed away. She put her face down into the pillow, to the side and went down on her shoulders, I took her wrists and pulled them back straight down, pinning her there and kept pounding. “Oh yeah, fuck me.” I playfully spanked her ass cheeks. As I remember she liked it. “Spank me harder.” I spanked her harder and kept fucking her. “I wanna ride you now.” she said. I let her up and laid down on my back. She put her thighs on either side of my hips and took my cock inch by inch while she played with her tits. When my cock was all the way in her, she began bouncing on it. “I wanna cum.” she said. “I wanna cream all over you.” When she did, her eyes kinda rolled back and she began letting out the sexiest fuck moan I’d ever heard while her pussy grabbed and squirted all over my cock.

I couldn’t hold off any longer, just seeing the look on her face and feeling her pussy tighten up and grab my dick while she squirted and moaned, put me over the edge. I began shooting cum up into her, she kept riding me thru her orgasm, my orgasm, then let her body fall down on top of me, spent. She didn’t want any of the typical girl stuff after sex, no cuddles, snuggles, nuzzles, kisses. She got up. “Oh god I’m a mess.” Went into my bathroom, took a quick shower. When she came out, she walked out of my bedroom to collect her clothes. I was still in a little bit of a fuck daze. She returned to my bedroom and was looking around her purse and pulled out her hairbrush. “Bet you don’t go for a run now,” she remarked while brushing her hair. “Yeah,” I said. “Hey…” Before I could ask for her number, she said, “Well, I’m off. Catch ya online.” And she turned around and walked out of my room. I heard the door to my condo open and close. Later that night, I thought about sending her a message on Facebook, but what to say? Thanks? See you soon? That was hot? You’re awesome? Don’t let another 3 years go by? But the funny feeling I had was that I wouldn’t hear from her for another 3 years. To her, time passing didn’t mean much. Three years ago might have yesterday. Another 3 years from now might be tomorrow.

“Use whatever you find in the bathroom to make yourself your most beautiful” Myron said loudly from the other room. “They usually have high end stuff in there for guests and they’ll add it to my bill when I checkout. Be sitting on the bed in five minutes.”

The lotions and perfumes, cosmetics and candies – brands I had never even heard of with French names in tiny crystal bottles. I washed my face in the sink, fixed my hair and put on the most delicate perfume gliding the little crystal stopper behind my ears, between my breasts, along each wrist and up across the back of my neck. Then I plucked a pretty orchid from the flower vase and slipped it into my hair above my right ear.

A moment later Myron came back to the bed from the other bathroom at the far end of the suite. He was dressed in a black suit with thin charcoal gray pinstripes and a silver necktie. I was sitting on the edge of the bed with my feet on the floor. “You look splendid, like an elegant lady. Take out your tits. I said you should look you best, but that doesn’t make you any less my whore.” His tone was indifferent, like he was ordering a meal off a menu.

Unfastening the buttons of my white blouse, the fabric parted and my breasts bulged out from beneath it. I had not put my bra back on when I got dressed so there I was, mostly clothed and made up with a flower in my hair as my nipples stood at attention for all the world to see.

The sound of the knock at the door carried across the room loudly, like it was much closer than the other end of the entry hall. I gently bit down on my lower lip nervously and silently. Myron walked to open the door and I could hear him speaking with someone but the sound was too faint for me to make out what was being said. I was sure I heard a female voice, maybe it was more than one voice and was that Myron or another man speaking as well? My mind raced as the voices hushed and the door to the suite quietly closed with a creak. I wasn’t sure what to do so I remembered Myron’s words from earlier and closed my eyes. Somehow it made me less nervous. “You’ll remember my wife, won’t you whore?”

Wife?! My eyelids snapped open and there she was with a big grin across her face. It can’t be the same Karen I told myself. Karen the other receptionist from my office, the one who had told me about the dating site to begin with… something very strange was going on. A rush of shame filled me, my coworker was standing eight feet away from me admiring my tits through my open blouse and the bed sheets were already rumpled. The room still held the scent of sex, even as a new layer from my perfume glossed over it. “My real name is Melisia, not Karen” she said with a wry smile.

“I, I don’t understand…” she watched as my hand began to button my blouse out of instinct. “I wouldn’t do that she said as she approached the bed. The game is not over and if you play it well enough the rewards can be quite wondrous.” My hand stopped and I tilted my head up to look at her. She was a petite woman in her late twenties or early thirties with raven black hair and jade green eyes. “Will you tell me…” I groped with my voice.

“… you have earned that much with your service so far” Myron interrupted. “Marriage is such an archaic thing really. A man and a woman may be in love, but only an idiot like my grandfather believes that requires monogamy. I am an heir of sorts, never worked a single day in my life, nor do I intend to… but that requires certain things. A trust fund is simple enough to obtain but full inheritance comes only with a long list of “shalls” and “shall nots” passed down from one generation to the next. My wife Melisia is also of noble birth and we have been betrothed for as long as we can remember, which in truth has worked out nicely. Our bonds of love are as strong as our bonds of obligation. However, I’m humble enough to know that her desires can not be satisfied by my cock alone, and she fancies the notion of finding a pretty plaything for us as much as I do.”

“Finding someone appropriate is no easy task and if word of our transgressions found it’s way into the wrong ears we would be cast down more quickly than rainwater” said Melisia. “Two weeks at a temp agency getting moved from one office to another in this city was a small price to pay for a chance to go whore-shopping with complete anonymity. When I found you and asked around the office about you I knew you were what I was looking for… sweet, honest, pretty and without any attachments to family or friends of note. Of course, that didn’t mean you necessarily knew how to be fucked, and a whore has little value if she can not accept her role, wouldn’t you agree?” Her long eyelashes blinked at me as she spoke.

So the dating site, escorting, her receptionist job… it was all lies, layered one on top of the other in a twisted attempt to bring me back to their hotel room? I felt cheated and flattered, nervous and favored. What they did was far from honest, but it seems they did it for me and had chosen me from any number of potential playmates. They couldn’t have gone through all this trouble just for a few hours of fun. “So, what happens next?” I asked in a playful voice. “This whore needs to know what you expect from her.”

Myron lifted a large pad sheathed in a black leather jacket from the desk near the window and walked toward the bed. Melisia sat down beside me and cupped my right breast in her hand gently rolling my nipple between her finger and thumb. “Relax” she whispered in my ear “You will never have to work again, never fret over a single bill or need for anything in this world. Three signatures is all it takes.”

I looked over toward Myron as I felt the edge of her slither down to spread my knees. Her palm was warm as it caressed my thigh and pressed forward toward my crotch. The tips of her fingers shivered dangerously at the outer walls of my womanhood. Moist, warm, begging to be entered, I wanted nothing more in that moment than to lay back on the bed so she could take me in her hand.

“Not yet my sweet” Myron said sternly to his wife. “She is just a whore until these papers are complete… not yet our whore, not truly and forever.” He sat down at my other side and placed the bound pad on my lap where Melissia’s hand reached up from beneath the fabric of my dress to hold its weight.

“This is a contract like none you have ever seen, I assure you” said Myron. “An ancient writ that carries with it many great benefits and time honored duties. I shall explain it to you line by line, you may ask as many questions as you wish before you sign it. If you refuse, no harm will come to you and by morning you will be back at your desk answering phones. However, if you do choose to sign it your life shall be changed forever and there are no second chances.”

He was breathing heavier and his voice trembled the same way that it did earlier when he was fucking my mouth. I glanced down at the papers but they were written in fancy calligraphy, not English or any other language I had ever seen. The pad was some kind of parchment, not paper, maybe lambskin… My heart fluttered as he started to read and the thumb of his wife found the sweet-spot between my thighs, slowly diddling my clit to help focus my attention.

A week earlier I had found out that my rent was getting raised and my health insurance company wanted to jack up their rates by almost twenty five percent. I have a pretty good job as a receptionist, but somehow I was still coming up short every month when my bills were due.

My friend Karen works at the same place I do and I know she earns about the same as me, but she was always showing up and asking me if I liked her new bracelet or if I wanted to go out to dinner at a nice restaurant nearby. Finally I agreed to go, just to find out the real deal. I asked her point blank during dinner how she was making ends meet so easily, and that’s when she clued me in to this private ‘dating site’ she was using. The way Karen explained it, she was going out on dates with wealthy men and enjoying time at shows or restaurants all over town. Many were handsome and respectful, some less so, but at the end of each date she was handed an envelope full of cash.

At first I was blushing like a school girl, I never thought of myself as a hooker, but the more we talked and the more she told me stories of what was actually going on – the more I started to listen with an open mind. The final straw came when I got home later that night and realized I wouldn’t have the money to pay my credit card bill now that I split the cost of the fancy dinner out with Karen while we were talking.

I looked through my closet and started picking out a dress, some shoes, and made sure I had what I thought was appropriate attire for a date. That was a rookie mistake for sure. When I logged into the dating site Karen told me about, I put up a couple pictures with my face blurred and figured it would take a week or two before I’d hear back from anyone. In reality, I got three emails that first night. One thing lead to another and I ended up on the phone talking with Myron a couple hours later. He had a calm voice, sounded like an older man, someone sure of himself and his name was Myron so I figured he had to be harmless, right?

Myron told me to get a pad of paper and a pen. Then he started telling me exactly what he wanted. What shoes to wear, what color dress, a lace bra but absolutely no panties. His list was really specific, he even wanted to go over my choice of makeup. Then he said to meet him at 11:00 tomorrow night in room 1806 of his hotel and not to be late or he would report me on the dating site for being unreliable.

The elevator door closed behind me with a shush and the eighteenth floor hallway was incredibly quiet. I could hear my own heartbeat as I walked down the hall and brushed a few stray hairs away from my face with the back of my wrist. Room 1806, the sign on the door was gold embossed on a clean white background and as I raised my hand to knock I suddenly got this nervous feeling in my belly. I thought of just walking away, going home, how would I pay my bills, my mind was racing when all of a sudden the door opened from the inside by itself! Myron was standing there in his hotel bathrobe, cinched at the waist by a golden braided belt as he held the door open.

“You’re late…” he said with a stern face. “It’s 11:12 and we agreed to an hour so now you’ll be staying until 12:24, any late time gets added back double on the end. I assume you are agreeable.” Uhm, what, late time, sure I thought. I was confused and my nerves were frazzled so all I managed to blurt out was “OK. Whatever you say Myron. That’s fine with me thank you.”

He seemed pleased enough by the response and motioned for me to enter the room but once inside he closed the door and blocked me from going any further than the entryway. Myron was in his forties or fifties, about twenty pounds overweight and balding with a comb-over hairstyle. He had good clean teeth and was fresh out of the shower, covered by his thick hotel bathrobe “It isn’t for you to look me over, whore… what you think of me is no matter. What matters is what I think of you.”

The word stung. He just called me a whore to my face as easy as if he had been saying my name or calling me Darling. I was about to interrupt to tell him that word offends me when he raised his hand and pointed at the wall behind me. “Turn around, put your hands on the wall and let’s make sure you are capable of following simple instructions. Get your legs shoulder-width apart.” I started to turn without thinking. Something about his voice made it clear he intended to be obeyed without discussion and following his instructions was much less confusing than following my own scattered thoughts at that moment.

“I said shoulder-width apart, are your feet as wide apart as your shoulders? Do I need to get a fucking tape-measure for you to use?” I could feel my face getting warm and my cheeks blushed bright pink and I stared at the wall in front of my face. I wiggled my feet a few inches farther apart and suddenly felt his hand reach under my skirt to brush across my mound.

As I flinched from the unexpected motion he firmly pressed his other hand against my back to hold me in place along the wall. Is he frisking me for a weapon or a camera wire? Does he think I’m a cop or something? “Good” he said while he relaxed his grip on the back of my blouse and I eased away from the wall.

“Good?” I asked, not knowing what he meant. “You aren’t wearing any panties as you were instructed, so you are capable of following simple commands. That means any time you fail to follow what I say it’s because you aren’t listening or lack basic discipline. Also, your pussy is soaking wet, are you always this wet when you go on a date?”

I didn’t know how to answer that, this was the first ‘date’ I’d ever gone on and I was so focused on what he was doing that it hadn’t even occurred to me how wet I was getting. Now that he mentioned it I could feel that sticky sensation between my labia and a gentle droplet trickling between my thighs. “Yes” I said breathlessly in a low shy voice. “Yes, I’ve been this wet on every date” which was true because I was so wet right now and this was my only date though he hadn’t asked that so I didn’t offer to explain.

“You are my whore. For the next… one hour and six minutes” he said as he looked down at the gold watch on his wrist. “During the next one hour and six minutes you will do exactly as you are told, or you will get the fuck out. If I wanted to discuss things or hear an opinion on things I would fuck my wife tonight instead. You are here in her place and you will do all that I expect. A good whore can earn a good living from me. Listen and obey. It’s a lot like Simon Says, which I am sure you’ve played before, but this game is called Myron Says and you do not want to find out what happens if you fail.”

“I understand” was all I said in return. It was clear he didn’t want to know what I thought or wanted, he only wanted to know that I understood what he thought and wanted. I had come this far and I felt like I was in the middle of a very long bridge. Turning back now would be at least as far a distance as seeing this ‘date’ through all the way to its end.

“Step forward to the foot of my bed, keep your eyes straight ahead as you walk and when you reach the bed close them” he said as he moved to the side so that I could enter the rest of the hotel suite from the entry hall. I stood still, waiting. He smirked and softly murmured “Very good… now do it. Myron Says.”

I held my head high like one of those girls at an etiquette school balancing a book with perfect posture. My eyes never wavered from the bed and after eleven strides I stood with my thighs pressed tight against his thick mattress. Standing at the foot of his bed, I began to close my eyes….

The music came on from the stereo. It was something classical and playing loud enough that I had an impossible time trying to figure out where in the room Myron was standing. I started to slowly open my eyes and caught a glimpse of the large mirror that hung over the headboard of his king size bed before he shouted “Close those eyes whore. Next time I catch you opening them without permission you’ll be blindfolded.” I closed them and said nothing to which he replied “When I speak to you, you will tell me that you understand.”

“Yes” I stammered “I mean, I understand.” It was cold in the room, colder than I expected and I could feel my nipples rubbing against the white silk blouse through the lace bra Myron had told me to wear. When I felt Myron’s breath against the back of my neck as he leaned forward and started to lick with his tongue toward my the ridge of my ear my mind became a jumble. My body was totally turned on but at the same time, all I could think of was my electric bill sitting on the kitchen counter in my apartment. It was past due and I knew if I didn’t please Myron it had no way of getting paid.

I reached down with my left hand slowly and searched behind my thigh awkwardly for him. As my hand brushed against the front of his robe I could feel his cock begin to stiffen through the terrycloth longing for my touch. His breath changed to a shallow faster pace and the next thing I knew I was face down in the soft quilted blanket on the bed. As I fell forward from the shove Myron gave me, he caught me around the waist with his other arm so my legs stayed standing, pinned against the bottom of the bed. It was like I was two women, one from the waist down standing with he moist pussy exposed to warmth of his body behind me and another from the waist up laying face down on the bed await further instructions.

“Put your thumb in your mouth whore. Suck it and tell me why I should bother fucking you. Can you give me three good reasons?” Myron said in a patient voice. I felt so vulnerable. I’m not sure why but I almost think if he started fucking me it would have been less awkward. Putting my thumb in my mouth and sucking it with my eyes closed while he was looking down on me from behind as he began to touch my wetness with his finger… “You should fuck me because I’m really wet so it will feel good?” I mumbled with my thumb in my mouth. “Are you asking me or telling me you fucking whore?!”

“I’m answering. Sorry. You should because I’m wet, you should because you can and you should because my ex-husband always said my pussy was the tightest hole he ever fucked.” When his fingers entered me fully and he caressed my lower back with his other hand I knew the third part of my answer had please him.

“Do you know what this is?” he asked as he spread my open with his fingers and reached deep inside me. “That’s my pussy, sir.” *Thwack* his hand came down hard across my right ass cheek with a loud noise and a harsh sting. I dared not yelp or scream.

“My name is Myron, be sure to remember it. I have not been knighted and do not need to be called sir. That is not your pussy… that is MY cunt. Myron’s cunt. Do you understand?”

“Yes Myron I understand. Myron’s…” I couldn’t say that word. I never had. It was such a filthy and degrading term, it always made my stomach turn. Somehow I could sense his hand starting to rise high up from my ass and the moment it slapped hard against my skin I blurted out ‘Myron’s CUNT, that’s Myron’s cunt, it belongs to Myron!’

“Better” he said in a please voice, proud of the lesson I had learned. “You will speak like the filthy whore that you are and you will not have need of me reminding you what that sweaty hole between your legs is again. Which hole do you use best?” he asked curtly.

“Which hole, my ex-husband liked my pus… err he liked Myron’s cunt better than using my mouth” I exhaled, relieved that I had caught my own error before Myron did. “And what about your ass, did he have no time to fuck that part of you?”

A shiver ran down my spine. An old boyfrind of mine had once gotten drunk at a party and decided to try having anal sex with me but that was years ago and it was awful. I never did it again, even when my ex-husband had asked me to as a birthday present one year I refused.

Myron spread my ass open with both ends and I began to explain when his voice boomed over mine “Take a deep break in, so deep you can feel your belly tighten and grab the blanket as tight as you can with both hands.” I fearfully did as I was told. “When I say now you will slowly exhale every last vapor of breath as you release your grip on the bed…. Now.”

I could feel the blanket rising under my chest as the breath left my body and my hands were warm from grasping the blanket while his finger slid inch by inch through my asshole until his knuckle rested against the base of my spine. “Your asshole is like a jelly jar and it needs to be properly maintained to be of any use. Clean, relaxed, loose and available.” His index finger probed deep as his wrist made a slow circular motion pinning the walls of my sphincter against each side as he gaped me wide and told me when to breath in or out.

“Whore, you will suck my dick tonight. Will you be doing that before I fuck you up the ass, afterward or both?” The way he phrased the question presupposed the answer. He didn’t ask when I wanted to blow him, he asked when I would be doing it. I gave the only answer he would have accepted “Both. I’ll suck your cock before and after you fuck my ass. I’m your whore and I am here to please you.”

“Finally, a whore worth using. I will be keeping you for the night instead of just the hour. You will be paid twice the hourly rate we discussed for the next ten hours. However, if at any time you fail, you will be sent home. I’ll pay you but you will never hear from me again after you leave.”

“I understand Myron. You are most kind. Thank you. I will not fail.”

He entered my ass just like that. There was no fanfare or romantic tension. He wasn’t wooing me or hoping to earn my affection. I was his, there to be used and he took my ass like it was owed to him. His cock was an average length, probably five or six inches from what I could feel with my eyes closed but it felt so much thicker than anyone I’d been with before or since him.

I groaned loudly as my asshole strained to accept him. His hand clutched my hair along with the back of my head and he leaned his body forward pushing me hard against the bed as my groans became muffled in the soft thick blanket. Eleven, twelve thrusts… maybe more I heard him say “Roll over flat on your back and open your eyes.”

When my eyes opened he was not in my line of sight and I didn’t dare sit up to have a look around. I didn’t feel him down by legs, and slowly the bed sagged above my head as he climbed on near the headboard. His hand reached for my tits and squeeze one a little harder than I would have liked. His arm hair was visible and it was obvious he had shed his bathrobe on the floor. I could feel him moving closer when one of his knees landed just to the left of my right ear and the other sank into the blankets on the other side of my head. He straddled over my face and slowly sank his hips down as his scrotum rested across the bridge of my nose. “I said open those fucking eyes” he said sharply as he shifted left and right letting his balls brush against my eyelids.

His next command wasn’t a verbal one. He pressed his hands down on my chest and pushed the head of his cock against my lips. I opened my mouth to let him in slowly but with a quick thrust of his hips he had slipped his cock all the way down deep beyond my tonsils. His hand came up under my neck to align me as he pushed his dirty dick down my throat and rested it there. “Sniff my balls. Learn the scent. Your holes are mine, your nose is your own. Learn to use it.” I inhaled as best I could and a long streak of saliva spilled out the corner of my mouth when he uncorked himself from me and I gasped deep to catch my breath. The telephone on the nightstand rang loudly. “He answered as calmly as he would from any conference room. “Hello? Yes, Room 1806. I will see you in a few minutes.”

“Put your clothes on, and for fuck’s sake go fix your makeup. We have company coming.”

EVERY SO OFTEN I FEEL THE URGE……

To be picked up in a car. Have my pussy fingered and tits groped while I am being driven to a discreet side street. Then to jump into the back seat, have my top lifted up to expose my titties and my skirt lifted up to expose my pussy. I like to lie on my back, spread my legs wide open and be fucked by a stranger with a hard cock who just wants to not try and make me cum but just unload himself in my pussy. (WITH CONDOM).

Oh, by the way….NO ORAL, NO ASS PLAY. NO FUCKING FROM BEHIND!!!

(Stop complaining, it’s a good enough deal as it stands)!

FOR QUICK FUCKS ONLY

DRIVE BY DRIVERS MOST WELCOME. IF YOU HAVE THE SPACE IN THE BACK OF YOUR CAR AND A HARD ON YOU CAN USE MY PUSSY TO SHOOT YOUR LOAD.

We can always say no. I prefer to meet than spend endless hour/days emailing texting. I can’t accommodate and don’t have too much time to spend away from home. I would suit someone who doesn’t live too far away, has the horn, a full ball bag of spunk and just needs to quickly offload it in my pussy. WITH CONDOM, of course. No need to worry about making me cum, just a quick fuck with a total stranger in the back of a car down a side street to dump his load, then I’m back to the ironing.

When the mood overtakes me, I am generally free daytimes, during the week.