Prologue

“I’d like to undress you, if that’s okay,” I said.

“Mmm, I’d like that,” Charlotte said, sliding into my arms and pressing her back to my chest. I wrapped one arm around her waist, and used the other to move her dirty blond hair aside so I could kiss her neck. She responded by grinding her ass into my crotch.

“By the way,” I said, “I don’t need the fantasy. I’m comfortable with this just being what it is.” I unzipped her dress and peeled it from her shoulders, enjoying my first feel of her breasts. They were a good size, and nicely shaped, but age had taken some toll. They sagged a little, and her areolae were large and faded. They were fine breasts, but they were a 38-year-old’s breasts.

“That’s cool,” she said. “But don’t be surprised if I come anyway. I enjoy my job - especially when my client is handsome and polite like you.”

I let her dress go, and ran my hands up and down her curves. I spun her around and dropped to my knees, nuzzling her crotch with my nose while fingering the edges of her pink panties. The smell of her cunt made me hard. When I pulled my face away, I could see the contours of her sex through the fabric.

“Am I allowed to lick you?” I asked. I could feel the heat coming from her pussy.

“Only a taste,” Charlotte replied. I pulled her panties to the floor and took my sip of her savory sex.

I stood back up again and took off my clothes, while Charlotte pulled the bedspread off the motel bed.

“Have you thought about how you want it, James?” She asked.

“They say you’re really good with your hands, so let’s start there,” I said. “But I’d like to finish with Cowgirl.” I lay on the bed, and she sat beside me, touching me. One hand was on my cock, getting things started, but the other was stroking my stomach and chest.

If you really want the best experience from a call girl, pick an older one. One pussy is pretty much the same as any other - at least among humans. An 18-year-old’s body is nice to look at, of course, but that’s more important when she’s dancing on a pole. A woman who has survived for a decade or two in this business knows things - what do to with her hands, and with her mouth, and how to read a client. She also knows a lot about who else works in her city - but the interview would come later.

Charlotte squeezed my cock, and ran her hand up and down it a few times, as it testing it, deciding what techniques to use. Finally she let a ball of spit slowly drip from her mouth onto my head, her eyes locked on mine, and then she began her work in earnest. What she did to me wasn’t the clumsy jerking of a high school girl; it was nuanced. Her fingers changed their pressure individually, moving up and down from tip to stem on every stroke. Her fingers created a ribbed friction against my crown, but her fist was jerking my shaft as well. Her hands moved like a musician’s.

“Do you want me to tell you what I’m going to do to you, in a few minutes?” Charlotte said. “Do you want to hear about how I’m going to take your cock into my cunt? How I’m going to slam my body down onto your dick, over and over, forcing it deep inside of me? Do you want to hear about how wet it’s making me, touching you like this?” I just lay back, closed my eyes and groaned.

She kept working her hand up and down my cock, somehow combining what I had always thought of as separate techniques into one. “Are you eager to come? Are your glands bursting, ready to rocket out your seed? Are your balls sore from holding so much sperm?” She put her free hand on my belly, halfway between my bellybutton and my dick, and pressed in. My body ached with the need to come, and I groaned again.

She stopped rubbing my cock a few seconds later, knowing I was near climax. She caressed my chest and nibbled on my neck, briefly, to give me time to cool down, and then she unwrapped a condom from her purse and unrolled it onto my rod, with a devilish smile. She took position over me, and soon she was swallowing my cock with her cunt.