The escort 2 My first assignment
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The Es(c)ort (2) - My First Assignment free porn video
Needless to say, Rosie offered me a job at Marchmont Ladies, the up-market e(s)cort agency which she ran out of her tenement flat. And of course I was happy to accept, if a little apprehensive as to what to expect; glossy brochures and easy words are all very well, but reality can be quite messy, and who knows what sort of man I'd have to pretend to like. Still, the money was excellent – I'd earn enough in one assignation to pay the rent for a whole term, and if I had enough clients I could probably build up quite a nest-egg to see me through the rest of my time at university and to get me comfortably started as I stepped out into the world beyond.
Rosie gave me an advance so that I could get some new clothes for my new life, so I splashed out on some sexy new lingerie and a pair of high heels; when I tried them on in the shop I felt like a real tart, but, let's face it, that was exactly what I had agreed to be. In fact, I found myself wondering more and more what exactly I was: tart, prostitute, e(s)cort, courtesan, whore, hooker – so many different ways of describing a woman who sold sex, each one subtly different and implying a different attitude, both on her part and on the part of the one paying. And which term could I safely use if I ever had to tell my friends what I'd done for work over the holiday? In the end, I decided that “e(s)cort” was probably the most innocuous and in its own way accurate enough.
You may wonder why it mattered to me to think of a word I was comfortable with; but if you think about it, we each have words we like to apply to ourselves, and these become significant parts of how we view our place in the world. I usually don't think of myself as Asian but as Scottish, even though I am both of those things; there will be times, however, when I drop more readily into my Asian identity. Certainly, as an e(s)cort I want to be Asian, because it's part of my role – mysterious oriental beauty with one thing on her mind: how to please her man. There, digression over.
It was a day or two after meeting Rosie that she rang to say she had an engagement for me if I was interested. It was to be for Ian, the man she had told me about when I saw her, but he would explain in more detail exactly what it was that he wanted. I was to go and meet him at his office that afternoon for a full explanation. It was clear that this wasn't the actual engagement but a kind of briefing session. I suddenly felt rather important, having to be given instructions for my new role, almost like an actress being told about the film she was being offered to star in. And again, that made a lot of sense, because I would almost certainly be acting a part when it came to the job itself.
I met Ian at his office and was immediately impressed by how welcome he made me feel. He ushered me into a quiet room with glass walls on two sides and we faced each other across the board-room table; there was definitely not going to be any hanky-panky here.
“I'm pleased to meet you, Evelyn,” he said once we were comfortable. “I hear from Rosie that you're new. I regularly use Marchmont Ladies and have nothing but praise for the girls who've helped me out at different functions and events over the past three or four years. My business is really starting to thrive now, in no small part because of the good work you and girls like you do – always professional, always discreet.”
“Before you go any further,” I said, “I should perhaps explain that this is my first assignment, and I really don't want to disappoint you, so I thought it best to get that out of the way first. But yes, I'm looking forward to it. What is it you'd like me to do?”
“I like an honest girl, so thanks for telling me that. I'm sure you'll do just fine. So, the assignment. I've arranged a meal this Saturday evening, catered for by an outside company, for a man who could very well turn a lot of business my way, a Mr Granger. I plan to wine and dine him and his wife and generally show them what a good guy I am so that when it comes to putting pen to paper he'll trust me and be happy to do business with me. I want an attractive young woman – that's you – to be my partner for the evening. You happy with that?”
“Sounds good,” I said. “A dinner party for four? I think I can manage that.”
“I have no doubt about that,” he replied. “The thing is, though, that I'd like you to flirt with him, make him think that you're interested in him, maybe even dangle the prospect of a little sexual contact before him. He's a bit older than me, in his mid-fifties, and from the dealings I've had with him so far he appears to think he can manipulate me into doing what he wants. This time, though, it's me who'll be doing the manipulating, through you; but he'll think all along that he's got one over on me by making my girlfriend lose interest in me and go after him. Still OK?”
“Yes, could be a lot of fun. I'm guessing that I can dangle this prospect of sex before him and maybe even have sex with him. Is that what you're saying?”
“If necessary. It may not come to that, and frankly might be a bit awkward at my house – and I don't want this to go on for days and weeks while he pursues you. You can play it however you want: dumb broad looking for a sugar-daddy, young girl completely overcome by an older man's power and wealth, or maybe a sex-crazed teenager wanting to experience new things. I don't mind. Just so long as he thinks he's in with a chance of having you and stealing you from me. And if you do end up having sex with him, I'll reward you appropriately; say, double the normal fee.”
“Well, that is very generous. And if he signs the papers?”
“I like your thinking, Evelyn,” he laughed. “You're right, of course; it would be a very lucrative contract and it's only fair that you should be rewarded properly. So, if after all that, he signs on the dotted line I'm prepared to give you four times the usual fee. Does that sound reasonable?”
“Make it six,” I countered. I don't know why I'd suddenly started bartering like this, but it was clear from what he said and from his body language that this was possibly a once-in-a-lifetime deal he was trying to set up. Why shouldn't I value myself accordingly?
“Hmm,” he smiled. “You should go far in your business, young lady. I may even have to take you on as a negotiator. Five – it's a lot of money for a student. And a word of advice: I've been in business a long time – it never pays to overplay your hand. So what do you say?”
“A very generous offer, which I'm pleased to accept. Do you want me to dress in any particular way?”
“No, I leave that up to you; I'm sure you know how to dress to impress, and even how to undress to impress.” He winked at me. “And one day, who knows, I may get to see you all by myself.”
I laughed. “Indeed you may. I'm actually looking forward to this; should be a lot of fun.”
“Good. Just keep thinking of that big fat bonus if you're successful.”
We shook hands on the deal and I left his office in a bit of a buzz; it really did feel as if an exciting new opportunity was about to open up.
On Saturday evening I tarted myself up in a tight-fitting black cocktail dress which showed plenty of cleavage; underneath I put on a matching bra-and-panty set of red lace, together with black seamed stockings and suspenders and my new high heels. I felt so slutty and was sure that an older man wouldn't be able to keep his eyes off me. Or a younger man come to that. Which turned out to be exactly right, because when I turned up at Ian's front door, early as arranged, he let out a low whistle. “You look stunning,” he said. “If he doesn't want to fuck you he must be mad.”
“Down, tiger,” I growled. “Just let me do my job.”
“As far as Mr Granger is concerned, you're my long-term girlfriend, don't forget, so we might get into a bit of difficulty if the conversation gets too personal. Mind you, I think he'll be so fixated on you that he won't take much else in.”
“You have a very high estimate of my charm,” I blushed.
“And rightly so,” he said. “But here they are. Let's go to work, sweetheart.”
Ian showed Mr and Mrs Granger into the lounge and introduced me as “Evelyn, my partner.”
“Pleased to meet you, Mr Granger,” I simpered. “Mrs Granger.”
“Please,” he said. “I'm Geoff, and this is Anna. I think we can relax the formalities tonight, don't you agree, Ian?”
“As you wish, sir. I mean Geoff.” Ian seemed rather nervous with this new-found familiarity, but I expected he could cope.
Mr Granger, Geoff, was a silver-haired rather distinguished-looking gentleman, somewhat formally dressed in a grey suit with a blue tie. I don't know a lot about men's tailoring, but it looked very expensive, the silk lining being particularly striking. Maybe a little overweight, but not overly so – stocky rather than fat. His wife, Anna, was very elegant, slim and about the same age as him; she'd clearly spent a lot of time – and money – keeping herself trim, what with the beautifully manicured nails, the light tan and, I detected, smooth skin where you'd expect wrinkles. Either botox or a face-lift; maybe both. However, she didn't look like a robot, which sometimes happens to older women who overdo the cosmetic surgery.
Over drinks we chatted amiably, and I made sure that Geoff could see me looking at him, nothing too over-the-top, just gentle encouragement. When I saw him glance at my legs, I made sure to cross them so he could get just a glimpse of stocking. It was all going according to plan.
When the caterers called us into the kitchen, we sat with me opposite Geoff and Ian opposite Anna, in a boy-girl-boy-girl arrangement. This meant that Ian was by my side and he squeezed my thigh encouragingly as we sat down. As the meal progressed, I let Geoff get a good look down my cleavage, “accidentally” letting my red bra-strap show, leading his eyes down to where my olive-skinned breasts were available for his gaze to feast on. After a while, I made sure that my legs brushed against his under the table, at one point moving a leg up and down his while looking directly into his eyes. He licked his lips and smiled.
“So, Evelyn,” Geoff said once the caterers had left and we were drinking coffee. “What's a beautiful young thing like you doing with a reprobate like Ian? If I was a bit younger I'd try and steal you off him, that's for sure.”
“Geoff!” said Anna. “Don't be so rude. You're a guest here. And you may have forgotten but you're a happily married man.” She dug him in the ribs; there was a certain playfulness about the way she spoke and the way she nudged him that suggested she wasn't entirely unused to this from her husband.
“You know I'm just teasing, my sweetest wife,” he said. But under the table his hand had found its way onto my knee and was rubbing my thigh up and down. I too put my hand under the table and on top of his, drawing his fingers a little higher till they were under my dress. I parted my legs so that he could feel the inside of my thighs. “Anyway, Anna,” he continued while playing with me like this, “You know I only have eyes for you – still sexy after all these years. My hands still thrill at the touch of your body, your skin still so smooth – I'm a very lucky man.” He said all this while looking at me and stroking my thighs.
“Ahem!” said Ian, who could see plainly what was happening next to him; well, maybe not plainly, but he knew very well what was going on. “I wondered, Anna, if you'd like a full tour of the house. Women always seem keen to know how others live. I bet you're no exception. I'm sure Evelyn can keep Geoff entertained while we look around.”
“That's very thoughtful of you, Ian,” she said. “I'd like that very much.”
“Come then, let me show you round. We won't be long, you two,” he said. Then he leaned in and whispered in my ear, “I'll keep her occupied for long enough for you to take this wherever you want.”
When they had left the room, I moved round to Geoff's side of the table and again placed his hand on my thigh, this time letting him slide it up to the soft flesh where the stockings ended. “You like feeling young girls then?”
“When they're as sexy and beautiful as you, how could I resist?”
“How do I know you're not just saying that?” I said, and pressed my hand into the bulge in his trousers. “Ah, I see. You seem to like it a lot. What would you think if I took your cock out and played with it?”
He spluttered awkwardly. “Why don't you do it and see. You'd make an old man very happy.”
“Less of the old,” I teased, and gently unzipped him and eased his cock out till it was standing hard and erect for me. “Mm, very nice,” I said, stroking him slowly up and down, tickling the tip of his rigid cock, fingering the ridge where it's most sensitive, watching pre-cum start oozing out. “Very impressive; you can finger my pussy if you like – I'm very damp already.” Strangely, this was true; I was starting to feel rather horny.
His fingers eased my panties aside and he slid one finger, up and down my pussy lips, coating it in my juices. He then put two fingers inside my cunt and gently finger-fucked me as I stroked him. He obviously had a lot of experience at this as he was really turning me on. As his fingers moved in and out, his thumb pressed on my clit and he circled round it, bringing me very close to a climax already.
“You're very good at that,” I gasped, letting him know by my sighs that I loved what he was doing. “But I don't think we have a lot of time, so I'm going to give you a special treat.”
“You can do whatever you want, baby,” he groaned. “You have very skilful fingers for one so young.”
“If you think my fingers are skilful, wait till you see what I can do with my mouth.” And I leaned down to kiss his cock, my tongue darting around the head, taking the pre-cum on my tongue and making my lips glisten with his juice. “You taste wonderful,” I said, looking up for a moment, “Tell me if I'm doing it right.”
“Baby, that is fucking amazing. I can tell from your wet pussy that you're enjoying it too.”
“I certainly am,” ! Mumbled. “Keep finger-fucking me, 'cause I'm really going to work on your cock now; I just want you to cum in my mouth.” I planted butterfly kisses up and down his shaft, cupping his balls in one hand and squeezing them gently. I then wrapped my lips round the head of his cock, which by now was almost purple, it was so swollen. I moved my head up and down, taking the whole of that cock into my mouth, gagging slightly, so that his saliva and his pre-cum made his cock slide smoothly in and out of my mouth. His hips thrust upwards, fucking my mouth faster and faster; amazingly, his fingers were still pumping my cunt. Suddenly I felt his cock twitch and knew that he was about to cum. I took him deep inside my mouth and then, as I stroked his full balls, I felt his hot cum shoot straight down the back of my throat. I took it all, milking him dry, then pulling off to let him see my mouth, my lips, my tongue wet with his cum. I made little cum-bubbles for him to watch and then I swallowed the last of his thick, creamy spunk.
The whole thing pushed me over the edge, and I came hard on his fingers, squeezing them with my tight young pussy.
“Oh, fuck, Evelyn, you are the best,” he sighed. Then taking his fingers out of my cunt, tasted my cum-juice off them before offering it to me. “I hope you enjoy tasting your own cum, baby.”
“I love it,” I said, “but not as much as I love tasting yours. For an old man you managed to produce a lot more spunk than many a young man would.”
He laughed. “If we had more time, I could probably cum again quite soon. I'd really love to fuck that tight Asian pussy of yours.”
“Think you can handle a hot 19-year-old, do you?”
“I do – or I'd die trying. I haven't met anyone quite as hot as you for a long time.”
I blushed. “You say the sweetest things. But listen, I hear footsteps; they must be coming back.”
We hastily rearranged ourselves, me wiping the remnants of cum off my lips just as Ian and Anna returned from their little tour.
“I hope he didn't bore you with his business and golfing talk,” Anna said.
“Not at all,” I replied. “He is a charming man and you are very lucky to have him.”
After that, the evening continued for a little while before Geoff and Anna left. As they were going, Geoff discreetly handed me his business card and whispered, “I can probably fit you in some time when you're free.”
“I'm sure you can fit me in,” I said. “Or perhaps it's me that can fit you in,” and I gave his cock a squeeze.
I told Ian all about our little escapade while he'd been out of the room and he seemed very pleased.
“So, all went well, did it?” he asked. “Not too onerous?”
“Not at all. I think you may find you now have a satisfied business colleague.”
“I do hope so.”
He paid me the double fee we'd agreed and I left. That was the easiest money I'd ever made, and all for a blow-job. Even better, three days later Ian rang to say that Geoff, Mr Granger, had signed the contract and my second bonus was already in my bank account.
If everything was this easy, I was going to have a great time and make myself some serious money. What's not to like?
Rosie gave me an advance so that I could get some new clothes for my new life, so I splashed out on some sexy new lingerie and a pair of high heels; when I tried them on in the shop I felt like a real tart, but, let's face it, that was exactly what I had agreed to be. In fact, I found myself wondering more and more what exactly I was: tart, prostitute, e(s)cort, courtesan, whore, hooker – so many different ways of describing a woman who sold sex, each one subtly different and implying a different attitude, both on her part and on the part of the one paying. And which term could I safely use if I ever had to tell my friends what I'd done for work over the holiday? In the end, I decided that “e(s)cort” was probably the most innocuous and in its own way accurate enough.
You may wonder why it mattered to me to think of a word I was comfortable with; but if you think about it, we each have words we like to apply to ourselves, and these become significant parts of how we view our place in the world. I usually don't think of myself as Asian but as Scottish, even though I am both of those things; there will be times, however, when I drop more readily into my Asian identity. Certainly, as an e(s)cort I want to be Asian, because it's part of my role – mysterious oriental beauty with one thing on her mind: how to please her man. There, digression over.
It was a day or two after meeting Rosie that she rang to say she had an engagement for me if I was interested. It was to be for Ian, the man she had told me about when I saw her, but he would explain in more detail exactly what it was that he wanted. I was to go and meet him at his office that afternoon for a full explanation. It was clear that this wasn't the actual engagement but a kind of briefing session. I suddenly felt rather important, having to be given instructions for my new role, almost like an actress being told about the film she was being offered to star in. And again, that made a lot of sense, because I would almost certainly be acting a part when it came to the job itself.
I met Ian at his office and was immediately impressed by how welcome he made me feel. He ushered me into a quiet room with glass walls on two sides and we faced each other across the board-room table; there was definitely not going to be any hanky-panky here.
“I'm pleased to meet you, Evelyn,” he said once we were comfortable. “I hear from Rosie that you're new. I regularly use Marchmont Ladies and have nothing but praise for the girls who've helped me out at different functions and events over the past three or four years. My business is really starting to thrive now, in no small part because of the good work you and girls like you do – always professional, always discreet.”
“Before you go any further,” I said, “I should perhaps explain that this is my first assignment, and I really don't want to disappoint you, so I thought it best to get that out of the way first. But yes, I'm looking forward to it. What is it you'd like me to do?”
“I like an honest girl, so thanks for telling me that. I'm sure you'll do just fine. So, the assignment. I've arranged a meal this Saturday evening, catered for by an outside company, for a man who could very well turn a lot of business my way, a Mr Granger. I plan to wine and dine him and his wife and generally show them what a good guy I am so that when it comes to putting pen to paper he'll trust me and be happy to do business with me. I want an attractive young woman – that's you – to be my partner for the evening. You happy with that?”
“Sounds good,” I said. “A dinner party for four? I think I can manage that.”
“I have no doubt about that,” he replied. “The thing is, though, that I'd like you to flirt with him, make him think that you're interested in him, maybe even dangle the prospect of a little sexual contact before him. He's a bit older than me, in his mid-fifties, and from the dealings I've had with him so far he appears to think he can manipulate me into doing what he wants. This time, though, it's me who'll be doing the manipulating, through you; but he'll think all along that he's got one over on me by making my girlfriend lose interest in me and go after him. Still OK?”
“Yes, could be a lot of fun. I'm guessing that I can dangle this prospect of sex before him and maybe even have sex with him. Is that what you're saying?”
“If necessary. It may not come to that, and frankly might be a bit awkward at my house – and I don't want this to go on for days and weeks while he pursues you. You can play it however you want: dumb broad looking for a sugar-daddy, young girl completely overcome by an older man's power and wealth, or maybe a sex-crazed teenager wanting to experience new things. I don't mind. Just so long as he thinks he's in with a chance of having you and stealing you from me. And if you do end up having sex with him, I'll reward you appropriately; say, double the normal fee.”
“Well, that is very generous. And if he signs the papers?”
“I like your thinking, Evelyn,” he laughed. “You're right, of course; it would be a very lucrative contract and it's only fair that you should be rewarded properly. So, if after all that, he signs on the dotted line I'm prepared to give you four times the usual fee. Does that sound reasonable?”
“Make it six,” I countered. I don't know why I'd suddenly started bartering like this, but it was clear from what he said and from his body language that this was possibly a once-in-a-lifetime deal he was trying to set up. Why shouldn't I value myself accordingly?
“Hmm,” he smiled. “You should go far in your business, young lady. I may even have to take you on as a negotiator. Five – it's a lot of money for a student. And a word of advice: I've been in business a long time – it never pays to overplay your hand. So what do you say?”
“A very generous offer, which I'm pleased to accept. Do you want me to dress in any particular way?”
“No, I leave that up to you; I'm sure you know how to dress to impress, and even how to undress to impress.” He winked at me. “And one day, who knows, I may get to see you all by myself.”
I laughed. “Indeed you may. I'm actually looking forward to this; should be a lot of fun.”
“Good. Just keep thinking of that big fat bonus if you're successful.”
We shook hands on the deal and I left his office in a bit of a buzz; it really did feel as if an exciting new opportunity was about to open up.
On Saturday evening I tarted myself up in a tight-fitting black cocktail dress which showed plenty of cleavage; underneath I put on a matching bra-and-panty set of red lace, together with black seamed stockings and suspenders and my new high heels. I felt so slutty and was sure that an older man wouldn't be able to keep his eyes off me. Or a younger man come to that. Which turned out to be exactly right, because when I turned up at Ian's front door, early as arranged, he let out a low whistle. “You look stunning,” he said. “If he doesn't want to fuck you he must be mad.”
“Down, tiger,” I growled. “Just let me do my job.”
“As far as Mr Granger is concerned, you're my long-term girlfriend, don't forget, so we might get into a bit of difficulty if the conversation gets too personal. Mind you, I think he'll be so fixated on you that he won't take much else in.”
“You have a very high estimate of my charm,” I blushed.
“And rightly so,” he said. “But here they are. Let's go to work, sweetheart.”
Ian showed Mr and Mrs Granger into the lounge and introduced me as “Evelyn, my partner.”
“Pleased to meet you, Mr Granger,” I simpered. “Mrs Granger.”
“Please,” he said. “I'm Geoff, and this is Anna. I think we can relax the formalities tonight, don't you agree, Ian?”
“As you wish, sir. I mean Geoff.” Ian seemed rather nervous with this new-found familiarity, but I expected he could cope.
Mr Granger, Geoff, was a silver-haired rather distinguished-looking gentleman, somewhat formally dressed in a grey suit with a blue tie. I don't know a lot about men's tailoring, but it looked very expensive, the silk lining being particularly striking. Maybe a little overweight, but not overly so – stocky rather than fat. His wife, Anna, was very elegant, slim and about the same age as him; she'd clearly spent a lot of time – and money – keeping herself trim, what with the beautifully manicured nails, the light tan and, I detected, smooth skin where you'd expect wrinkles. Either botox or a face-lift; maybe both. However, she didn't look like a robot, which sometimes happens to older women who overdo the cosmetic surgery.
Over drinks we chatted amiably, and I made sure that Geoff could see me looking at him, nothing too over-the-top, just gentle encouragement. When I saw him glance at my legs, I made sure to cross them so he could get just a glimpse of stocking. It was all going according to plan.
When the caterers called us into the kitchen, we sat with me opposite Geoff and Ian opposite Anna, in a boy-girl-boy-girl arrangement. This meant that Ian was by my side and he squeezed my thigh encouragingly as we sat down. As the meal progressed, I let Geoff get a good look down my cleavage, “accidentally” letting my red bra-strap show, leading his eyes down to where my olive-skinned breasts were available for his gaze to feast on. After a while, I made sure that my legs brushed against his under the table, at one point moving a leg up and down his while looking directly into his eyes. He licked his lips and smiled.
“So, Evelyn,” Geoff said once the caterers had left and we were drinking coffee. “What's a beautiful young thing like you doing with a reprobate like Ian? If I was a bit younger I'd try and steal you off him, that's for sure.”
“Geoff!” said Anna. “Don't be so rude. You're a guest here. And you may have forgotten but you're a happily married man.” She dug him in the ribs; there was a certain playfulness about the way she spoke and the way she nudged him that suggested she wasn't entirely unused to this from her husband.
“You know I'm just teasing, my sweetest wife,” he said. But under the table his hand had found its way onto my knee and was rubbing my thigh up and down. I too put my hand under the table and on top of his, drawing his fingers a little higher till they were under my dress. I parted my legs so that he could feel the inside of my thighs. “Anyway, Anna,” he continued while playing with me like this, “You know I only have eyes for you – still sexy after all these years. My hands still thrill at the touch of your body, your skin still so smooth – I'm a very lucky man.” He said all this while looking at me and stroking my thighs.
“Ahem!” said Ian, who could see plainly what was happening next to him; well, maybe not plainly, but he knew very well what was going on. “I wondered, Anna, if you'd like a full tour of the house. Women always seem keen to know how others live. I bet you're no exception. I'm sure Evelyn can keep Geoff entertained while we look around.”
“That's very thoughtful of you, Ian,” she said. “I'd like that very much.”
“Come then, let me show you round. We won't be long, you two,” he said. Then he leaned in and whispered in my ear, “I'll keep her occupied for long enough for you to take this wherever you want.”
When they had left the room, I moved round to Geoff's side of the table and again placed his hand on my thigh, this time letting him slide it up to the soft flesh where the stockings ended. “You like feeling young girls then?”
“When they're as sexy and beautiful as you, how could I resist?”
“How do I know you're not just saying that?” I said, and pressed my hand into the bulge in his trousers. “Ah, I see. You seem to like it a lot. What would you think if I took your cock out and played with it?”
He spluttered awkwardly. “Why don't you do it and see. You'd make an old man very happy.”
“Less of the old,” I teased, and gently unzipped him and eased his cock out till it was standing hard and erect for me. “Mm, very nice,” I said, stroking him slowly up and down, tickling the tip of his rigid cock, fingering the ridge where it's most sensitive, watching pre-cum start oozing out. “Very impressive; you can finger my pussy if you like – I'm very damp already.” Strangely, this was true; I was starting to feel rather horny.
His fingers eased my panties aside and he slid one finger, up and down my pussy lips, coating it in my juices. He then put two fingers inside my cunt and gently finger-fucked me as I stroked him. He obviously had a lot of experience at this as he was really turning me on. As his fingers moved in and out, his thumb pressed on my clit and he circled round it, bringing me very close to a climax already.
“You're very good at that,” I gasped, letting him know by my sighs that I loved what he was doing. “But I don't think we have a lot of time, so I'm going to give you a special treat.”
“You can do whatever you want, baby,” he groaned. “You have very skilful fingers for one so young.”
“If you think my fingers are skilful, wait till you see what I can do with my mouth.” And I leaned down to kiss his cock, my tongue darting around the head, taking the pre-cum on my tongue and making my lips glisten with his juice. “You taste wonderful,” I said, looking up for a moment, “Tell me if I'm doing it right.”
“Baby, that is fucking amazing. I can tell from your wet pussy that you're enjoying it too.”
“I certainly am,” ! Mumbled. “Keep finger-fucking me, 'cause I'm really going to work on your cock now; I just want you to cum in my mouth.” I planted butterfly kisses up and down his shaft, cupping his balls in one hand and squeezing them gently. I then wrapped my lips round the head of his cock, which by now was almost purple, it was so swollen. I moved my head up and down, taking the whole of that cock into my mouth, gagging slightly, so that his saliva and his pre-cum made his cock slide smoothly in and out of my mouth. His hips thrust upwards, fucking my mouth faster and faster; amazingly, his fingers were still pumping my cunt. Suddenly I felt his cock twitch and knew that he was about to cum. I took him deep inside my mouth and then, as I stroked his full balls, I felt his hot cum shoot straight down the back of my throat. I took it all, milking him dry, then pulling off to let him see my mouth, my lips, my tongue wet with his cum. I made little cum-bubbles for him to watch and then I swallowed the last of his thick, creamy spunk.
The whole thing pushed me over the edge, and I came hard on his fingers, squeezing them with my tight young pussy.
“Oh, fuck, Evelyn, you are the best,” he sighed. Then taking his fingers out of my cunt, tasted my cum-juice off them before offering it to me. “I hope you enjoy tasting your own cum, baby.”
“I love it,” I said, “but not as much as I love tasting yours. For an old man you managed to produce a lot more spunk than many a young man would.”
He laughed. “If we had more time, I could probably cum again quite soon. I'd really love to fuck that tight Asian pussy of yours.”
“Think you can handle a hot 19-year-old, do you?”
“I do – or I'd die trying. I haven't met anyone quite as hot as you for a long time.”
I blushed. “You say the sweetest things. But listen, I hear footsteps; they must be coming back.”
We hastily rearranged ourselves, me wiping the remnants of cum off my lips just as Ian and Anna returned from their little tour.
“I hope he didn't bore you with his business and golfing talk,” Anna said.
“Not at all,” I replied. “He is a charming man and you are very lucky to have him.”
After that, the evening continued for a little while before Geoff and Anna left. As they were going, Geoff discreetly handed me his business card and whispered, “I can probably fit you in some time when you're free.”
“I'm sure you can fit me in,” I said. “Or perhaps it's me that can fit you in,” and I gave his cock a squeeze.
I told Ian all about our little escapade while he'd been out of the room and he seemed very pleased.
“So, all went well, did it?” he asked. “Not too onerous?”
“Not at all. I think you may find you now have a satisfied business colleague.”
“I do hope so.”
He paid me the double fee we'd agreed and I left. That was the easiest money I'd ever made, and all for a blow-job. Even better, three days later Ian rang to say that Geoff, Mr Granger, had signed the contract and my second bonus was already in my bank account.
If everything was this easy, I was going to have a great time and make myself some serious money. What's not to like?
Mhairi
- 10.07.2021
- 39
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