Succulence (Succulent Trilogy #1) (3 page)

I started to change from being on all fours so I could grip the base, but that’s not what he had in mind. “No hands. Mouth only. All fours. Suck it.”

He watched his cock disappear in and out of my mouth as he held the base with one hand and took swigs of the rest of the D’usse in the other hand. I closed my eyes and flexed my thighs to focus on the dirty pleasure I’d feel, but he’d command me to keep them open.

My nipples hardened from excitement; they were hard to the point of stinging. I felt wetness leak into the crotch of my panties. My breasts and ass jiggled back and forth in rhythm with my head bobbing. I wanted to touch myself so badly, but I couldn’t since I was sucking him off on all fours.

Eyes dark with lust, he sat back with quiet dominance, indulging royally in my oral worship like a King watching his young chambermaid polish his royal scepter. Thrusting his hips to the cadence of my sucks, he growled, groaned and praised my head skills. He stood up, dropping his pants to the ground. Placing his hands on the back of my head, he repositioned himself in front of me, widening his stance. His knew position pulled up from being on all fours with his shaft still firmly embedded in my mouth.

“Don’t move,” he said. “Stay still and look at me.”

His dominant side was clearly showing at this point. As I looked up at him, eyes watering with a mouthful of cock, he looked deeply into mine. He said nothing, simply sank his fingers into my scalp and wrapped them tightly around my loose golden ringlets.

“God, you look so fucking sexy with my dick in your mouth,” he groaned, thrusting more of himself into me.

He began pumping his shaft at a quickened rhythm, setting a new pace for our encounter. Spit started to coat his crotch. I smelled his pheromones, the natural musky scent embedded in his trimmed, yet thick, pubic hair and moaned in frustration and desire. My obvious reaction to his body turned him on more. I felt his dominant vein rub against the grain of my tongue at a faster pace.

“That’s a good slut. Suck it harder. Suck my cock like the slut you are.” I continued moaning, giving him direct eye contact as he pumped. His balls, freed from his boxer briefs, began slapping my chin.

He reached a hand down and began fondling my breasts. They were now supersensitive, and as a result, I moaned louder as I felt a fresh wave of honey gush from below.

“Oh yeah, you like that huh?” He said, thrusting vigorously. “You like having your tits played with? You’re all wet. Play with your pussy for me baby. Play with for Daddy while my dick’s in your mouth.”

Resuming his seat, he continued playing with my tits while I started masturbating furiously. My entire pussy was fucking soaked with pussy cream, and I was nearly screaming for release. I wanted to cum so bad. But right before I could cum, he stopped me and made me beg for it.

“Stop!” He said. “Stop sucking. Stop playing with yourself. Stop.”

I did as I was told, frustrated and anxious. I released his hardness from my oral grip when he scolded me. “Put it back in your mouth. We’re not done yet.”

Moments passed. He looked at me quietly.

“You want to cum?”

“Mm-hmm,” I said, as best I could, considering the circumstances. Have you ever tried talking with your mouth full? Not easy.

“Tell me you want to cum.” He pulled himself out my mouth and bounced the head on my lips.

“I want to cum.”

“I want to cum,
Daddy.
”

“I want to cum, Daddy.”

He cupped my jaw with his hand, caressing it with his thumb. “Beg.”

“Daddy I’ve been such a good, cocksucking girl. Please let me cum. I’m so wet. I’m about to explode. Please, please, pleeeeeeeeeeease?”

“Okay. You can cum...
But only while you continue sucking my dick.”

I eagerly obliged him and resumed sucking, this time hungrily as I inserted one, then two, fingers in my pussy and leaned in to take as much of him as possible. He coaxed me as I worked myself into frenzy. “That’s a good girl, that’s it, make yourself cum while you make me cum. Make yourself cum while you make me cum…”

I hit the peak of bliss under his alpha male guidance and exploded all over my hand. I moaned extremely loud with him in my mouth, but he didn’t seem to mind because by the third moan he started cumming in my mouth.

“OH! Oooh! Oh, fuck! Shit, ahhh, ahhh, ahhh!” he moaned, holding my head down as he released his load into my mouth. “Mmmmm, take that, you naughty bitch.”

He leaned over and slapped my ass as he came down off the waves of his orgasm, calling me a good girl for swallowing. Once he regained stamina, he dropped the whole boyfriend act almost immediately. He went to the bathroom and closed the door. I heard him urinate, no doubt releasing all the alcohol he’d been drinking. Within 10 minutes, he’d washed up and left without saying another word, leaving me with only a mouthful his aftertaste and a hotel room full of memories.

CHAPTER SEVEN

Two weeks passed since turning my first trick. Clients began to trickle in. For the most part, I avoided sex as much as possible. My ads explicitly and cleverly worded I was a good time, but when my clients called or inquired, I made it clear they were paying for my companionship. It was a no-no in the game to explicitly offer sex in exchange for money.

To be honest, I wanted sex… but not from a client. At least none of the clients I serviced after the first one. He didn’t leave me in the most affectionate manner, but he was stuck on my mind for a long time after our encounter.

In the real world, this was the kind of man I would have been attracted to. He was tall, handsome, intelligent and clearly well off. He also knew how to make me feel at home and we had intense chemistry.

I didn’t allow myself to get too caught up though. We had fun, yes, but the truth wasn’t as glamorous and romantic as I wanted to imagine. He was a client. He paid me to fulfill a fantasy. As soon as he had climaxed, everything ended and he left me in the blink of an eye before his nut fully entered my belly. No goodbye. No wave. No wink. Not even a second look. Nothing.

Besides, where could I find a man like him in Dallas? Clearly he wouldn’t be in any of the places I frequented, because one, I never went anywhere, and two, I didn’t know where the hotspots of affluent men were. I heard Plano, Frisco and McKinney had a couple of great bachelors, but they would be too far for me to meet on my schedule. Men downtown might have been an option as well, if I had the time. But the truth was I didn’t. I needed to handle my business first, before I ended up getting romantically involved with any man. I was an escort now.

For the most part, I hadn’t made complete peace with being an escort. It’d only been two weeks and I’d experienced my fair share of ups, downs and annoyances. There were times when men were rude assholes who were pushy and demanded sex immediately. Some would come to me un-groomed and needing a shower. They were cross when I refused sex. I would gladly give these men back their money because I refused to do business with them. Other times, I swallowed my pride and had sex with them, not because I wanted to, or because I was proud of it; because I really needed the money and the fees they offered were too good to pass up. It’s harder to turn down quick sex for $1500 when you remember that your check barely reaches that amount after 80 hours of hard work at the office.

Speaking of work, office life seemed to be going okay. Things had slowed down a bit after the holidays, so I didn’t have too many communications memos to prepare. I got to take longer lunches, which I used to book appointments, and even cut out a little earlier to meet with clients.

I completely took off Valentine’s Day weekend. Initially I wanted to go celebrate by myself, but a client I had seen a couple of weeks ago
, Brian, had flown into town and wanted to spend time with me. He offered $15,000 for a 3-day weekend, which was the most I had ever gotten from a client thus far.

I wasn’t particularly attracted to him. He was older, slightly balding, in his 40s and he was keen on having sex. But he was a good for stimulating conversation since he worked in finance, and he also had a lot of money, so there was no turning him down.

I didn’t have too much time to prepare for him, but he took me shopping at North Park, allowing me to buy some new clothes and shoes to wear for him, as well as lingerie. He handed me his store card and excused himself for a small while, telling me he’d be right back and just wait for him in the area when I was done.

That evening, over dinner, he presented me with a gift bag from Na Hoku. Inside were a yellow gold plumeria bracelet with diamonds, along with the matching earrings and ring. The jewelry easily cost several thousand dollars! No man I dated or slept with ever spoiled me with that amount of money in a gift.

“Happy Valentine’s Day,” he winked. “You can thank me later.”

And that I did. Like I said, I wasn’t deeply into having sex with my clients – I really gave them as much conversation, alcohol and head as possible, or rushed through sex, faking it so they’d come quick and get worn out – but I went all out for him. I sucked, fucked and even rode cowgirl on his short but girthy length for him a couple of times, screaming and cumming like I loved him. In a way, I put on a show, and I’m sure he was aware of it in a sense, but it was money well spent and earned on both ends.

****

My review came up at the end of February. Dean and the company were highly impressed with my work, so I was able to negotiate a raise. Instead of $38,500, I was made closer to $43,000. Initially, they wanted to bump me to $40K, but when I pointed out my education and my accomplishments, coupled with statistical data of salary ranges in Dallas, they couldn’t argue with me. I wanted $45K – which I should have
been
making from the door, but this was an agreeable compromise that was working very well for me.

I shared my raise with Stacy, and she was ecstatic. “It’s about time you were getting paid what you’re worth, girl!” she squealed in the bathroom, jumping up and down and clapping. “We totally need to celebrate. Road trip?”

We
hopped on the road and ran to Houston together, staying at Hotel ZaZa and exploring the city. We had fun, but didn’t spend too much money. Although we had gotten really close over the time we worked together, I didn’t tell her about my night job. I didn’t want her to get suspicious, especially since she knew I had only recently been complaining about money and bills just several weeks ago. If I suddenly started blowing cash, she’d have a ton of questions. So while we stayed at one of the city’s best hotels, we kept the meals and shopping to a minimum.

“Here’s to big boobs and bigger salaries,” she toasted, lifting her Vegas Bomb shot in offering.

I offered mine to her in return. “Yes! To big, beautiful boobs and way bigger, more beautiful salaries. Cheers!”

CHAPTER EIGHT

Spring was approaching fast, and I was starting to get into the flow of being an escort. As flowers and trees started to blossom and bloom, so did my workload. I guess everyone was lulling out of their post-holiday winter slumber.

Over the months, business would ebb and flow. Some months I made my target of $20,000; others I fell a couple thousand dollars short.

February was an amazing month. I racked up over $50,000. It was unbelievable, but after paying me $15,000 for Valentine’s Day weekend and all the gifts, the same client, whose name is Mark, dropped another $10,000 in my lap, giving me a total of $25,000 plus gifts.

“You deserve it for treating me to such a wonderful time,” he said. “Thanks for the incredible experience.”

March sucked
. Things slowed down abruptly. I made about $7,000. I had to do a lot of bargaining with clients the entire month. Some would tell me they only could afford this or that while they waited for their tax return. Some wanted me to cut my fees in half. I wasn’t mean or coldhearted by any means, but I was definitely all about my money, honey! There was no love to be had if you couldn’t afford my time. I would give slight breaks to my regulars, since I had a few, but I also cut my time and frills short.

I still kept in contact with my escorting coach. She praised me for catching on quickly, but scolded me for taking discounted fees.

“Once a client knows they can break you, they’ll continue to do so. If a client can’t afford your time, that’s just too bad for them. They need to work harder or manage their money better. Your body should be soft and supple, not your game or your offerings,” she hissed. “Don’t let me hear about this again. If you ever reduce your fees to please a client again, I’m charging triple for advice to prove a point.”

I managed to generate almost $70,000 in the first couple of months. I paid my rent upfront for the year, paid off all my credit cards, and managed to put a nice amount of leftover money in my bank account. I even opened up a separate account to for most of money I earned as I worked. When I opened the account, I had to fill out some kind of special form. Apparently, when you have more than $10,000 in your account, it’s a federal mandate to file this information with the IRS. I had never known, because my bank account had never looked this good, even when I lived at home.

Speaking of home, mom and dad were doing well. I spoke to them as much as possible, but it wasn’t as often as it used to be. Not because I didn’t want to talk to them; because I was so busy between clients and work that I rarely had time to talk to them.

Mom often asked about dating and men. While I was lonely, I didn’t let her know that. I just told her that the men were cool and I was dating to fill my time. She asked about my ex and his new girlfriend. I cringed hearing the news, but played it off and told her that I hadn’t spoken to him since we broke up, but that it all sounds great and I wished him the best.

Dad often worried about perverts. Little did he know the real pervert was the one he was on the phone with. I promised myself that I could never let my father find out what I had been doing. His princess? An escort? It would crush him.

Yes, I admit that if I had reached out to my parents for money months ago, they would have helped me out, no questions asked. But this wasn’t about them. I was doing this for me. I was 24, and at the age where I shouldn’t need anyone helping me out. I needed simply to survive.

I get that not too many people to understand that. Considering that it could be said that I was born with the proverbial silver spoon in my mouth, and I was gorgeous intelligent, it just didn’t seem right for me to feel a need to hustle my body for money. But as tough as things were here in Dallas, I was here to stay and climb the corporate ladder. And I wanted to feel like I finally done it on my own.

At the heart of it all, that’s what motivated me: the need to accomplish something on my own. My parents had helped me out long enough most of my life. I was pretty blessed to have parents and two protective older brothers who loved me. But the two years I struggled to find work after graduation, I felt helpless; like they were there for me because they had to be. I know it wasn’t true. I know they all truly cared, but it didn’t take away from the feelings of inadequacy and insecurity that came from working so hard for my career and being unable to get my foot in the door so I could be independent.

I didn’t want to be another expense. But even more than that, I didn’t want to feel like a privileged charity case. They deserved to see me shine. They just didn’t need to know the sacrifices I’d make in order for it to happen without their help.

****

“Lie down. I’ll go slowly.”

“You promise?”

“Yes.”

I was
at the Omni hotel with a rather timid client named Michael. It was his 18
th
birthday. I had serviced his dad on a previous occasion, and I guess he decided to share the experience with his oldest son to make him a man.

My hair was done in bombshell curls. Makeup-wise, I rocked retro cat eyes and red lips, and sprayed myself with Sublime Vanilla. I wore a red bandage dress and heels. He wore a basic rocker tee and ripped jeans with skater sneakers. His glasses were simply designed, yet thick. His mustache did nothing to hide his still babyish features.

As we looked over the city, Michael and I had gotten acquainted over drinks. I had tossed back a few drinks at the hotel bar, but his dad also brought him a bottle of liquor too.

Michael was kind of peeved by the fact that his dad had taken him to an escort. I can’t lie; it was somewhat weird to have his dad drop him off a well. Not because it isn’t customary for a man to bring his son or brother to me as a referral. But the fact was that the man was married. He was married, and he had no issues taking his son to see an escort. Silly me, I figured this was one of those secrets you kept to yourself for the sake of preserving your marriage, but that wasn’t the case.

According to Michael, his dad wasn’t married to his mom, but to his stepmom, who apparently was in it for the money more than anything. I also learned that part of Michael’s discomfort came from the fact that his dad allegedly cheated on his mom with escorts before divorcing her after having an affair with his current stepmom, who was his dad’s former secretary.

“Sucks, because dad’s got all this money and a hot young wife he’s had two more kids with, but my mom is still upset over the split. It happened four years ago, but she treats it as if it were yesterday,” he confessed sheepishly.

Michael was refreshing. Usually I have to drink or pop a pill to get comfortable with clients, but I didn’t need to get close to wasted in order to feel relaxed with him. He was a sweet, quiet kid who almost seemed not to take after his dad. I say almost because even though he had a girlfriend, Michael wasn’t going to completely pass on he action.

“I don’t know if I want to go all the way,” he said, when I finally leaned in to kiss his neck and get the ball rolling. “But dad paid for this, and it’s my birthday. I guess you should at least suck my cock.” 

Michael’s penis was average. Totally average. As he lay back on the bed, pant-less, I placed myself in the triangle between his legs and leaned down, taking his cock in my mouth. Face down, ass up, I kept my ass hoisted high in the air for his viewing pleasure. My dress rolled up, revealing my G-string panties, which he called sexy.

I sucked him nice and slow, because that’s specifically what he requested. As I licked over the eye of his penis, he groaned and commented that his girlfriend didn’t give head this good.

I firmly held the base with my left hand. “Well from what I can tell, she’s very young and new to sex. Treat her right and coach her. I promise the better you treat a girl, the better her blowjobs will be.”

He pointed to his balls. “Kiss them for me? She never does that.”

I kissed each of his balls, making loud kissing noises and leaving red lip prints on them. I felt his cock harden in response. He started jerking his cock slowly with one hand while he directed me to “keep playing with my balls.”

Many women seem to overlook balls when giving head. That’s a huge mistake; men absolutely love when you pay attention to their balls. As an escort, especially one who aims to try and suck the load out of a client before he wants to have sex, I can’t afford the luxury. When a man wants his balls sucked, I’m going to suck them if I think it will make him blow his load.

Sucking one, then the other, ball into my mouth, I alternated back and forth to maximize his pleasure. I rolled them around in my mouth, sucking and teasing them to his delight as he continued stroking himself. Seeing the pleasure I’m giving him turns me on. I reach back and start playing with my awakened clit.

Michael pauses his strokes, squeezing his dickhead. I recognize he’s trying to prevent himself from blowing his load too quickly. I can tell that while he’ll be a simple blowjob, he’s still going to require work. He’s determined to savor this experience. For $2000, I’m sure he was told he needed to make the most of this affair.

“You play with yourself?” he says, sitting up. He’s fully paused from jerking himself to examine my behavior.

“Yes, when I’m turned on like I am now.”

“Sucking my cock turns you on?” His incredulous expression was so cute. He couldn’t believe such a thing were possible.

I bit my lip as my fingers dived in my pussy. Looking him in the eye, I responded. “Yes.”

“My girlfriend hates sucking my cock. She says it’s disgusting and that only whores like doing it.” He paused, thought about what he said. Turning red with embarrassment, he offered up an apology. “S-sorry. I don’t mean to call you a whore. I mean, you are an escort and all but I don’t want you to think I think you’re like some street whore or …”

I cut him off by interrupting his thoughts, tasting my pussy juices off my hand in one solid lick of my fingers, moaning. I took the same hand and started stroking his cock for him, throwing in my own haughty response to his girlfriend’s attitude.

“Darling, I
am
a whore. And I’ll let you in on a little secret:
All
women are whores with men they truly like. Your girlfriend just doesn’t know what the fuck she’s talking about. If she can’t suck your cock the way you want her too when you two are older, then you’ll find yourself coming back to me in order to get your pleasure. Why do you think I’m in business? I do everything she can’t – no
won’t
– do and I make sure that you get your needs met while her head’s turned so you don’t flat out leave her for her frigid, uptight beliefs.”

My snappy comeback was met with silence. Michael’s eyes were hurt. It was as if I had bitch slapped him. He looked like he was about to cry, and I didn’t need that. I went for the quick save.

“I’m sorry, Michael,” I said placing a juicy kiss on the head of his penis, and more on his shaft and balls. “I just had a moment of temporary madness. I know you didn’t mean any harm. Please forgive me?”

Michael nodded, eyes closed from reactivation of his pleasure points. “It’s okay.”

“Now, if you don’t mind, today’s your 18
th
birthday, and your father paid for me to suck, lick, kiss, adore and worship your cock as a gift welcoming you to manhood. He paid nicely so you’d know what it’s like to have your penis treated like royalty, so relax and let me continue earning every dollar Daddy’s paid so you can leave with the experience of a lifetime.”

He responded by pushing my lips down on his cock.