Chapter 14: My First Client: Kaia

Three more nights with Francesca brought in over £50,000, including her generous tips, a sum so extravagant it left me reeling. This wasn’t like Paula’s hush money, slipped to keep her indiscretions under wraps - a payoff that had felt sour and transactional, even as it morphed into a strange, dangerous sort of affair. With Francesca, there was no pretense. The arrangement was boldly transparent, almost shameless in its simplicity. Officially, we called it payment for a massage, but no one believed the obscene sum had anything to do with a professional service. It was payment for sex. I was being paid to fuck her.

And fucking Francesca was everything you’d expect from a supermodel and more. Her tits, her perfect ass, those endless legs - every inch of her was pure, unattainable beauty brought to life. Yet knowing that a woman like her was willing to pay for me made it all the more intoxicating. It left me feeling invincible, like I’d stepped into a paradise reserved for gods.

Francesca wasn’t just a thrill; she was the kind of woman who made the air feel electric when she was near. Sure, I’d fucked a lot of desirable women thanks to my secret love-drug, tx34, from random hotties like Chauru on my flight back from Mexico to the sexy dorm mates of my girlfriend, but Francesca was on another level. Of course, her flawless skin, endless legs, and full lips were enough to make anyone weak. Her massive tits, perfect for grabbing, and that toned ass, firm and muscular like a professional athlete’s, could drive any man insane. But it wasn’t just her looks. There was a warmth behind those famous green eyes, a tenderness that caught me off guard every time she gazed at me like I was her whole world.

Sex with Francesca was, naturally, beyond incredible. Her body was sheer perfection, every curve sculpted for desire, every touch lighting a fire inside me that was impossible to extinguish. But it had become more than just wild passion. Over time, it had deepened into something richer, more profound. The way she moved under me, her breathy whispers of my name, the desperate grip of her nails raking my back, it all felt like a celebration of the connection we shared.

We had become so familiar with each other’s bodies, it was as if we’d been together for years, like an old couple who knew every inch, every response, every subtle signal without having to think about it. Sometimes, I even had to admit that it felt more intimate than sex with my girlfriend, Susan. I’d realized my love enhancer wasn’t even necessary anymore. Sure, tx34 intensified her physical responses, but the way her body trembled as she came, the soft, needy moans she let out as she clung to me, felt just as genuine without it. The emotional connection between us made every kiss, every caress, every deep thrust feel almost sacred. Making love to Francesca wasn’t just sex; it was communion, a way to say everything words could never express.

How could someone so out of reach behave as if she truly loved me? We connected in ways I’d never imagined possible with someone like her. It felt as if I’d awakened something inside her, a part of herself she never knew existed: a woman who could truly enjoy sex, lose herself in the moment, give pleasure freely, and receive it without hesitation or pressure. I wasn’t demanding anything from her body, unlike everyone else who had always taken something from her in exchange.

In fact, I was the one charging for my time. She was in complete control, setting the terms and deciding how far things would go, and it seemed like this newfound power over her own sexuality was as thrilling for her as it was for me. It allowed her to open up to me in a way she apparently never had before. It was almost heartbreaking to realize that this goddess among women, desired by millions, had never truly felt love. Everything in her life had been transactional, from her relationships to her marriage to a successful French doctor.

I had shattered that hard shell around her, breaking through her defenses with a little help from the subtle push of tx34. It was more than just chemistry; it was as though I had unlocked something within her that had been dormant for years, maybe her entire life.

I had to admit that I’d begun developing strong feelings for Francesca as well. Every second, she occupied my thoughts. Was it love? But wait, we were both married! I loved my girlfriend, Susan. She was everything I wanted: kind, loyal, potentially a great mother, and the perfect homemaker. And what was probably the best: She didn’t even mind me fucking around, as long as I kept it discreet. Sure, Susan was hot as hell herself, not in a supermodel way, but in that next-door neighbor way, with curves that made my mouth water.

Still, there was something about Francesca. That special emotional connection made it feel like she was my soul mate. It was confusing. Was I risking everything with Susan, the perfect wife, for a fantasy with a supermodel? Or was Francesca filling a void in my life, one I hadn’t even known existed? Was she toying with me, or did she really mean it when she said I was filling an emotional gap in her life? Could we pull this off, a long-term affair without wrecking our marriages? Could I love two women at the same time? Hell, I already did. But would it work out? These questions made my head spin.

I just knew one thing: it had been the most exciting time of my life. By the time Francesca had to leave London and return to her dull life in a villa outside Paris, regretting she wouldn’t be able to come back for another two or three weeks, I was both love-sick and relieved to have some time to sort out my conflicting emotions.

But let’s be honest, my mind was ruled by my dick, as always. Instead of getting clarity, I found myself constantly dreaming of having Francesca’s perfect body under me again, her smooth, tight passage gripping my thick shaft. I wanted her, craved her, couldn’t stop thinking about her. All day long, I was jerking off to her, my hand working my shaft so often that it started to ache, raw and tender from the relentless friction. Even then, I couldn’t stop, imagining her lips wrapped around me, her moans filling my ears, her body writhing beneath me as I lost myself in her over and over.

So, when my phone rang a few days later with the number of her assistant, I was beyond excited. Was Francesca back early? Angela, the assistant, was as blunt as ever, wasting no time as she asked, “Are you available tonight?” My heart skipped a beat.

“I am,” I replied, my voice steady despite the rush of anticipation.

“Limo pickup at eight. Client is Kaia Scott,” she said matter-of-factly before hanging up.

Kaia Scott? Did she mean the Kaia Scott, the Hollywood celebrity? My first thought was disappointment. It wasn’t Francesca returning early. But then I remembered something Francesca had said, almost as a joke. She’d teased that she’d pass my number along to her friends, as if she were pimping me out. At the time, I hadn’t taken her seriously, but now here it was: an offer for another service. The realization hit me. Was I becoming a male escort? Well, I already was, wasn’t I?

But it didn’t feel bad. In fact, it felt incredible. The idea of being paid for sex with stunning women like Francesca or Kaia Scott was almost surreal. Shouldn’t I be the one paying for the privilege of being with such beauties? Instead, they were paying me. The thought left me grinning as I packed my massage kit, making sure everything was ready. I included the spiked oil, vibrators, cameras, and the other sex tools I’d recently added to my collection. On the drive to London, I couldn’t resist pulling up my phone to dig up every detail about Kaia Scott.

Like Francesca, she was just twenty-one years old but already a rising star in Hollywood, an accomplished actress and model whose career had undoubtedly been boosted by the fame of her supermodel mother, Anna Scott. Good genes, I thought with a smirk: a flawless candidate for my next insemination. I laughed quietly, relishing the dirty excitement of what I had planned.

When I reached her suite, Angela greeted me with her usual all-business demeanor. It was then I realized she wasn’t just Francesca’s personal assistant but a coordinator for one of the major advertisers, tasked with managing models and actresses while they were in London shooting ad campaigns. She clearly knew how to handle every detail with precision, and it was almost impressive how seamlessly she overlooked the fact that her clients were paying for sex. Her professionalism was unshakable, treating the entire arrangement as just another part of the job, as if it were no different from booking a car service or reserving a seat at a restaurant.

Without wasting time, Angela handed me a thick envelope containing payment for a two-hour booking. She mentioned casually that if the session extended into an overnight stay, the limo driver would have another envelope ready to cover the additional time. The driver, she assured me, was on call all night and could be reached through the concierge if needed. With her usual no-nonsense approach, she gave me a brief nod and slipped out, closing the door softly behind her.

The room was set up much like before, with a massage table in the center, stacks of fresh towels, a bottle of champagne chilling on the side, and an assortment of snacks laid out on the counter. I busied myself, arranging everything as I had with Francesca: the hidden cameras carefully concealed but perfectly positioned, the massage oil placed within easy reach, and the dildo tucked discreetly under a towel. Slipping into my baggy yoga pants without bothering with underwear, I tried to stay focused, but the anticipation was electric.

I didn’t have to wait long. The sound of a door opening snapped me to attention. My breath caught as a young woman stepped out of the bathroom, steam billowing behind her.

For a moment, my mind froze. There she was, the Kaia Scott. The same Kaia Scott whose face had graced billboards, magazine covers, and movie screens. But this wasn’t an airbrushed image. This was her in the flesh, impossibly real, impossibly naked except for the towel loosely wrapped around her wet hair.

It was surreal. She was even more stunning than in the pictures I’d obsessively browsed on my phone just hours earlier. My heart pounded, and I had to remind myself to breathe. She was petite, her figure almost fragile compared to Francesca’s statuesque curves. Her breasts were smaller, pert and perfect, their firmness obvious even without a bra. Her hips were narrow, her waist impossibly slim, her smooth, sun-kissed skin glistening with moisture. She looked so young, so fresh, so utterly out of my league that it almost felt wrong to even be in the same room with her.

She moved with an effortless grace, completely unbothered by her nudity. Her next-door neighbor charm clashed with the shocking reality that this wasn’t some girl-next-door. It was Kaia Scott, Hollywood royalty, standing in front of me without a single barrier between us.

The moment hit me like a freight train. Just a few months ago, I was a science nerd, hunched over experiments and barely capable of holding a conversation with an attractive woman. And now, here I was, face-to-face with a global icon, preparing to touch her, to have her in a way most men could only fantasize about. It was overwhelming, thrilling, and utterly intoxicating. My hands trembled as I forced myself to look professional, but my mind was screaming one thing: This is really happening.

Francesca must have prepared Kaia for this moment because the young actress moved with a practiced, almost deliberate grace, fully aware of the effect she was having on me. Completely nude except for the towel still wrapped around her damp hair, she held a tiny scrap of fabric between her fingers: her panties, black and lacy, the kind designed to barely cover anything. She didn’t wear them, of course. Francesca must have told her about my little fetish, the way I liked to keep them as trophies. The thought sent a surge of heat through me.

With a coy smile, Kaia flicked the panties toward my bag, where they landed effortlessly. “A little souvenir,” she said playfully, her voice low and sultry. Her eyes lingered on mine for a moment before she began to walk toward me, her hips swaying naturally with every step. My gaze betrayed me, traveling down her slender frame to her taut stomach and lower still, to her smooth, freshly-shaven mound. Her labial lips were faintly visible, soft and inviting, framed by her flawless thighs. My cock twitched at the sight, thickening against the loose fabric of my yoga pants.

Kaia’s small, perky tits were capped with rosy nipples that jutted forward, still damp from her bath, and I couldn’t stop imagining how they would feel under my hands, in my mouth. Her skin gleamed with a slight sheen of moisture, every inch of her seeming to demand to be touched, kissed, worshipped. Her lithe, fertile body exuded a youthful energy that made my balls tighten, already aching for release. I felt the first slick bead of pre-cum seep from my cock, sticking to the inside of my pants as the growing pressure became almost unbearable.

She stopped just in front of me, close enough for me to feel the heat radiating from her skin. Slowly, she leaned in, her stiff nipples brushing against my chest through the thin fabric of my shirt. The sensation was electric. She kissed my cheek, her lips warm and soft, and then pulled back with a playful giggle.

“Francesca says you give the most amazing massages,” she murmured, her voice dripping with teasing confidence as she emphasized the word ‘massage.’ Her hand reached up to rest lightly on my shoulder, her touch sending a shiver down my spine.

I opened my mouth to speak, but nothing came out. My mind was drowning in the sheer eroticism of the moment, her scent, her warmth, her naked beauty overwhelming every rational thought. Her eyes locked on mine, dark and mischievous, as if she knew exactly the effect she was having. And God help me, she did.

Kaia’s playful giggle dissolved into a smirk, her eyes locking onto mine with a sultry intensity that left me paralyzed. She leaned in closer, her face mere inches from mine, and then her lips claimed me. It wasn’t just a kiss; it was a performance worthy of the steamiest Hollywood movie, the kind of kiss designed to captivate, to make hearts race and pulses pound. Her wide mouth parted slightly, her tongue slipping into mine, warm and soft, exploring with practiced precision.

Her hands slid into my hair, tugging gently as her body melted into me. Her perky tits pressed firmly against my chest, her hardened nipples making their presence known through the thin fabric of my shirt. Her hips followed, pressing against the unmistakable bulge in my pants, grinding ever so slightly against my erection. The pressure made me groan, my cock pulsing as pre-cum leaked out in anticipation. It felt as if every nerve in my body was on fire, ignited by her skilled, intoxicating movements.

When she finally pulled back, her lips were glistening, her breath hot against my cheek. She tilted her head slightly, studying my reaction with a devilish grin.

“Francesca was right,” she purred, her fingers lightly trailing down the back of my neck. “You’re already hard ... Is this how you always greet your clients?” Her voice dripped with teasing seduction as her other hand grazed my chest, her nails raking lightly.

I swallowed hard, struggling to maintain composure. “Only the ones who show up naked,” I replied, my voice low and rough.

She laughed softly, her hand dipping lower, brushing dangerously close to my waistband. “Francesca told me you’ve got a tool no one can match,” she whispered, her voice dripping with teasing confidence. “She said you know exactly how to use it to make a woman feel things she’s never felt before ... and dared me to find out for myself.” Her lips curled into a sly smile as her fingers deliberately grazed the outline of my hard-on, her touch sending a jolt of heat straight to my core. “We’ve got a little bet going,” she continued, her eyes dancing with mischief. “She’s convinced I’ll have to tell her tomorrow that you made me come harder than anyone ever has. I’m not sure I believe her, but...” she paused, her gaze locking onto mine, her voice dipping lower, “I figure either way, I win. So, shall we see if she’s right?”

I felt my heart pound harder at her words, my restraint hanging by a thread. She turned slowly, her ass swaying hypnotically as she moved toward the massage table. Sliding onto it with deliberate ease, she lay face down, her head resting on her folded arms. Her towel slipped free from her hair, revealing damp waves that cascaded over her shoulders.

Her back arched slightly, the curve of her ass accentuated as her legs stretched out, her feet just brushing the edge of the table. She shifted slightly, her body writhing as if she couldn’t quite get comfortable, her toned thighs parting just enough to give me a glimpse of her smooth, glistening slit.

“Well?” she asked, glancing back over her shoulder with a wicked smile. “Aren’t you going to show me why Francesca said you’re the best?”

My hands trembled as I reached for the massage oil. Trying to buy time and see how far I could push this goddess without relying on my secret weapon, I deliberately chose the non-laced oil. If I was going to prove myself, I wanted it to be purely me—at least for now.

I began working the oil into her shoulders, her back, and the elegant curve of her spine. My hands moved slowly, deliberately, exploring the toned muscles beneath her pale, flawless skin. She hummed softly under my touch, her body relaxing as I kneaded her in ways that made her sigh contentedly. By the time I reached her feet, she was pliant, her legs slightly parted, inviting.

I slid my hands along her thighs, spreading her legs gently, savoring every second of her submission. Her pink folds glistened faintly, already wet from the anticipation. My breath hitched as I lowered my face to her pussy, marveling at how delicate and perfect it looked. Her pale skin seemed to glow, the faint red of her clit and labia visible through its translucent surface, like the blush of arousal was lighting her from within.

I leaned closer, blowing a stream of warm air over her clit. She gasped sharply, her hips twitching slightly in response. Encouraged, I pressed a single finger against her slit, sliding it up slowly until it brushed the hard nub of her clit. Her whole body jolted, and a small moan escaped her lips.

“God, that feels good,” she murmured, her voice thick with pleasure.

I pressed on, circling her clit with deliberate precision, my fingers moving in slow, firm strokes. Her breathing grew heavier, her hips shifting in time with my touch as her arousal built. Her legs tensed, her toes curling as she neared the edge. I kept my movements steady, teasing her clit with just enough pressure to drive her wild without pushing her too fast.

Finally, her body arched, her hips bucking as she came, a soft cry of pleasure escaping her lips. Her thighs quivered around my hand as the orgasm rippled through her. I slowed my movements, letting her ride out the waves, her breathing gradually settling.

She looked back at me with a sly grin, her cheeks flushed, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “Not bad,” she said teasingly, catching her breath. “Definitely in the top ten. But nothing to brag about yet.”

Her words hit me like a gauntlet thrown at my feet, igniting a surge of determination. She had no idea what was coming.

Following the script I had perfected with Francesca, I reached for the tx34-laced oil. Its potency was unparalleled, designed to heighten a woman’s arousal to levels that were almost impossible without chemical enhancement. As I warmed it in my hands, I could almost feel the anticipation radiating from her as she rested languidly on the table, completely unaware of the storm I was about to unleash.

Sliding my hands over her smooth, pale skin, I worked the oil into her lower back, letting it soak into her, knowing the tx34 was already working its magic. Her breathing deepened almost instantly, and a soft moan escaped her lips as my fingers kneaded her delicate muscles. Moving lower, I paid special attention to her ass, spreading her cheeks slightly to rub the oil into every curve. Her body trembled under my touch, her hips shifting instinctively toward my hands.

“That feels ... really good,” she murmured, her voice thick with arousal, the first signs of the drug fully activating the horny web of nerve cells in her brain.

Switching to the vibrator, I slid it slowly into her slick, tight pussy, letting its gentle hum complement the rising sensitivity already coursing through her. Her reaction was immediate—her body arched, a shudder running through her as the vibrations sent waves of pleasure rippling through her core. Leaving it nestled deep inside her, I resumed the massage, my hands working their way over her thighs, her hips, her back, all while the vibrator teased her mercilessly. The combination left her gasping, her moans growing louder with each passing moment.

When my hands reached her feet, I gently turned her over, exposing the front of her exquisite body. Her nipples were impossibly hard, her perky tits rising and falling with her labored breaths. Her skin glowed with arousal, flushed and glistening, her chest heaving as her eyes met mine. The vibrator continued its relentless stimulation, her pussy contracting around it as I began to massage her stomach and tits, my hands kneading her firm flesh with deliberate intensity.

Her first orgasm hit like a lightning bolt, her back arching off the table as her clit twitched and her entire body spasmed uncontrollably. She cried out, her voice breaking with pleasure, her fingers gripping the sides of the massage table. Before she could fully recover, another orgasm tore through her, then another, each one building on the last, leaving her trembling and breathless.

I didn’t stop. My hands roamed her body, from her taut stomach to her smooth thighs, spreading her legs wide as I continued to work her into an unrelenting frenzy. Her tits bounced with every shuddering gasp, her nipples begging for attention as I rolled them between my fingers. By the time the third wave of pleasure washed over her, she was a writhing, incoherent mess, her pussy gushing around the vibrator.

When her trembling subsided, I stepped back and dropped my pants, my cock springing free, long and slick with pre-cum. Her glassy eyes followed my movements as I stepped closer, positioning myself between her legs. I reached down, pulling the vibrator from her soaked slit, its wet sheen glistening in the dim light. Her pussy clenched at the sudden emptiness, her labial lips swollen and inviting, slick with arousal.

She looked up at me, her face a mix of exhaustion and desperate need. Her lips parted slightly, her breath coming in shallow pants, and her wide eyes sparkled with a joy that made my pulse quicken. My cock twitched, veins bulging along its length, thick and throbbing as it hovered just inches from her dripping slit.

“Oh my God, oh my God!!!” she gasped, her voice trembling with raw emotion as I pressed the swollen, flared head of my shaft against her slick, inviting entrance. Her labial lips parted effortlessly, glistening with her arousal, and the tight heat of her cunt began to swallow me. Slowly, I pushed forward, feeling her stretch around me, her snug fuck-hole gripping my girthy cock as it claimed her inch by inch.

Her eyes locked onto mine, wide and shimmering with ecstasy, her pupils dilated as she took me deeper. The connection between us felt electric, the raw, primal act amplifying every nerve-ending in my body. I could feel the ridge of my cock dragging along her inner walls, her slick heat tightening around me like the perfect fit. Her breath came in soft, shuddering gasps, her tits heaving with each inhale as I began to move.

Pulling back, I thrust forward again, each deliberate stroke sinking deeper into her slick, yielding pussy. Her moans grew louder, each sound a desperate mix of pleasure and need, as if every thrust sent a shockwave through her body. My cock pulsed with every inch, the prominent veins along its shaft feeding the primal rhythm that bound us in this moment.

“That’s sooooo nice,” she moaned, her voice trailing off into a long, drawn-out whimper of pleasure. “Oooooohhhhhh,” she gasped again, her words dissolving into incoherent cries as I found a steady rhythm, each thrust eliciting a new sound of pure bliss. Her hips moved instinctively, meeting my strokes, her body desperate to take me deeper.

Her tight, velvety pussy clenched around me, the swollen nub of her clit brushing against the base of my cock with every thrust, sending jolts of pleasure through both of us. Her gasps turned into cries, her petite frame arching beneath me as her first orgasm tore through her. Her nails dug into my back, raking down the muscles with desperate fervor as her body shuddered uncontrollably. Her thighs quivered, the wide gap between them giving the perfect view of my fat veined cock stretching her youthful cunt beyond what seemed possible.

I didn’t stop, my thick shaft sliding through her tight walls as they milked me greedily, the wet, obscene sounds of our fucking filling the room. Her slender legs wrapped tightly around my waist, her delicate heels digging into my lower back as if she couldn’t get me deep enough. Her tits bounced with every thrust, her stiff nipples grazing against my chest as her breathless moans echoed between us.

When her second orgasm hit, her head fell back against the table, her mouth open in a silent scream, her lips swollen and trembling. Her eyes fluttered shut, her cheeks flushed with heat, and her body writhed beneath me. I shifted, grabbing one of her legs and hooking it over my shoulder, the new angle allowing me to drive deeper into her dripping slit. Her tight little ass lifted off the table, her thighs spread impossibly wide as I slammed into her, each stroke sending tremors through her petite frame.

“Fuck! Oh God!” she cried out, her voice breaking as the intensity overwhelmed her. Her petite body seemed almost weightless against the massage table, her back arching as the waves of her climax pulsed through her again. I gripped her other thigh, spreading her even wider, my muscular arms flexing as I held her in place while driving my cock into her soaked pussy.

We didn’t stop. Her third orgasm tore through her body, her slender legs trembling uncontrollably as her fingers clawed at my shoulders, her voice reduced to a desperate, incoherent symphony of moans and gasps. Sweat dripped from my chest, mingling with the sheen of perspiration on her youthful, glistening frame. Her petite body convulsed beneath me, writhing in the throes of an orgasm so intense it seemed to consume her entirely.

As her spasms subsided into trembling aftershocks, I slowed my pace for a moment, allowing myself to take in the sight. The image was almost surreal: my thick, veined cock, slick and rigid, disappearing into her soft, smooth, and impossibly tight pussy. The stark contrast between us struck me like a primal revelation. My towering frame, muscular and dominant, against her petite, youthful body, flushed and yielding, was a perfect depiction of raw, unfiltered dominance and submission.

The very act of penetration, of my hard shaft stretching her delicate cunt, seemed to symbolize the ancient, instinctive contrast of giving and taking in sex. It was the ultimate collision of male and female, the fulfillment of a primal urge that transcended thought. My cock drove into her, taking her, while her body was reduced to nothing else but receiving, willing or not. Each aggressive thrust of my hard spear was met with her undeniable need to be used, to be filled, to be bred.

As she recovered, I shifted again, grabbing her by the hips and pulling her closer to the edge of the table. Her slender legs dangled for a moment before I hooked both over my shoulders, bending her petite frame as I drove into her with ruthless, unrelenting aggression. Her tits jiggled with every impact, her nipples stiff and flushed, her face contorted with bliss as her eyes pleaded for mercy, the ecstatic pleasure overwhelming her.

The room reeked of sex, the wet slap of skin against skin and her high-pitched cries blending into a symphony of primal lust. By the time her fourth orgasm consumed her, her body was a trembling, quivering mess, her pussy gushing around my cock as her cries turned into sobbing gasps of pleasure. Her swollen labia gripped me tighter with every thrust, her entire body responding to me like I owned her.

Her face was flushed, her lips red and swollen from biting them in ecstasy. Her hair was damp with sweat, clinging to her delicate cheeks as her wide eyes met mine, shimmering with a mix of exhaustion and raw desire. Her moans had turned into desperate cries, her lips quivering as she gasped, “Shit, I can’t take it anymore! It’s too fucking much!” Her voice cracked with raw desperation, her nails raking down my arms, begging for a reprieve. Yet her slender legs remained spread wide and trembling, her dripping pussy gripping my cock with a relentless need, driving me to ignore her pleas and keep pushing her further.