Chapter 1

At last, she allowed him to cum, letting his seed spurt into her mouth in almost painful spasms of ejaculation. Her tight grip at the base of his cock released, allowing the pent up seed to pass, so that it shot through his urethra at blast velocity.

His hips bucked involuntarily, raising his narrow cheeks off the stone slab of the poolside paving, his orgasm ripped through his body. Her lips, locked around his purple head, creating a seal, trapping his viscous fluids until she was certain she had it all. Then, as the small tensions subsided, she let his come dribble from between her painted lips, to run down his shaft and coalesce at the base of his shaven cock.

For a moment, she was quite happy to let his milky white substance, pool in the little hollow where root met body, while she held his, still rigid cock, in her mouth, savouring the after taste of his spend. Then, in exquisite and deliberate slowness, she lowered her head, taking his entire length into her throat until her lips met the resistance of his balls and groin.

She sucked around his girth, causing the cooling cum to pass between her lips and his cock once again, to return to the warmth of her mouth. When she was satisfied she had sucked it all back into her mouth, she slowly lifted her head, allowing his shaft to emerge from her throat and between her lips until only the very tip was all that joined them.

She swallowed then, her throat working the globules of seminal fluid to the back of her throat before sliding down into her gullet.

Chrissie stood, water cascading from her heavy, bare breasts that were swinging slightly. A lascivious smile played over her lips as she licked them clean of his residue. The shallow water came to her navel, distorting the view of her lower half.

It had been sheer torture for him. Chrissie, it was now abundantly clear, was an expert on prolonging the moment of release and had kept him on the edge for something like two hours. The constant erection had become uncomfortable in the end, but served to sweeten the release. He felt sure that, had it not been in her mouth, he probably would have managed to hit the glass ceiling of the in-door pool-house, so powerful had his eruption been. Mike closed his eyes for a moment's respite.

In that two hour session, she had ridden him mercilessly, grinding herself against his groin, almost tearing his cock off with the firmness of her muscles. She had, had him eat her, demanding he suck on her clit and labia until his mouth ached. Throughout, she had been the controlling influence, her demands were to be met before all else, then, and only then, was he allowed his release.

Chrissie leaned and planted a kiss on his lips. Her tits brushed against the cooling skin of his shoulder. He could taste his cum on her tongue as it slid between his teeth. He wasn't sure he liked it, but with no choice in the matter, endured it.

His advertisement in the newspaper shop was starting to pay dividends. Chrissie was his fifth customer in the two and a half weeks since the advert went up, announcing his services as a compliant escort. He did think to himself though, that his price needed to go up. Not that he was being greedy, just that a higher price would be less attractive to the poorer end of the market, meaning that he might have a better, more entertaining evening.

Chrissie had been the first customer hiring him who had money and all the trappings that go with it. If he was in it just for the sex, then it wouldn't be a problem, but that wasn't his only motive. It would be fantastic to find a rich woman to sponsor him through the remainder of his studies.

Wealthier women had less hang ups too, he supposed. Guilt wouldn't cloud the after effects of a pleasant afternoon in his company. Oddly enough, it seemed that with the luxury of money came a certain spirit of adventure. A rich woman seemed to have far more experience and a desire to have her wants attended to, than say, a woman who had to work for a living. Perhaps it was the availability of time in which to play and explore or, a greater boredom and time to fill.

Chrissie paid him, cash, in a plain white envelope. Neither of them hurried to dress, she preferred a silky house coat which flapped open at the front showing her enhanced breasts and surgically flattened stomach. Her wealth bought a body more in keeping with someone half her age. They left the cool confines of the pool house to return to the living room where the afternoons entertainment had started, then on further to the vaulted lobby at the foot of the stairs.

Mike leant forward, kissing her cheek as he opened the main entrance door.

"Thank you Michael." She breathed against his ear. He didn't correct her, knowing that she got a small, perverse pleasure, calling him Michael instead of Mike. "That was just perfect."

"You have my number." He answered, indicating his new business card that still sat, pristine, on the marble topped occasional table by the door. Her nod effectively dismissed him.

He stepped through into the coolness of the porch then, into the harsh sunlight of an August day. The heat hit him immediately, taking his breath away momentarily. Robert, his given name, not the professional one used on his business card, drove home to a cool shower and a study session.

Before he hit the music books, he briefly checked his answer phone, noticing the red light blinking. Two messages, the first from his mother telling him he was expected that Saturday, the 'Old Man's birthday bash'. It was hard to think of him as seventy. The other message was a little more cryptic, but then turned out to be one of the several cross dressers that had latched onto his advert, wanting to be 'out on the town' with a man on their arm. Robert deleted both and reset the machine.

So far, it had been easy to keep his two worlds apart. Lucy, his part-time girlfriend had no idea about his cash raising scheme. He had been careful to note where she would be so that they wouldn't clash, not that it would be too much of a problem, it was a loose arrangement they shared, but it might prove tricky to explain if she saw him with different women all the time. It was though, quite tiring, having a slight effect on his progress through studying classical music. Falling asleep never endears one to the lecturer and does mean you missed the vital points of the lecture. Power Point notes just didn't convey the real meaning of what the Lecturer was trying to get across.

The phone trilled. Robert realised that he had been snoozing and came back to life with a start.

"Hello?"

"Hello, is that Mike?" The female voice asked. She sounded as if she were shouting down a long tunnel, obviously a mobile.

Hearing his working name, Robert instantly reached for a pad and pen he kept just for these calls.

"Yes, Mike speaking." He waited for her to continue, hearing a rustling, then a loud noise. The line went quiet for a second, then her voice again.

"Sorry, I dropped the phone." She sounded young and nervous.

"What can I do for you er... ?

"Oh! Sally, sorry. I'm a bit ... um ... well, you understand." She paused. "I eh ... well I need an escort for a function.

They talked further and made arrangements to meet for a coffee the next morning. Robert dropped the receiver and hit the books. Vivaldi wasn't his favourite composer, finding his music a bit too frenetic for his tastes, but it had to be done.

Before going to bed, he called Lucy and invited her down to his parent's on Saturday. In something of a tired voice, she agreed, said night and dropped the receiver on its cradle, cutting off any chance for a chat. He figured she had someone with her, but was too tired to be curious.

Sally looked pretty much as he had imagined her. An elfin face was framed by brown ringlets that sat atop a thin framed, narrow shouldered girl. She wasn't unpleasant to look at, but not really his type, he didn't go for the diminutive in a woman, preferring self assurance and a body to match.

She stood as he approached her table, a questioning and hopeful look in her eyes.

"Mike?" She stood around five feet four inches, definitely under ten stone and trembling over every inch.

"Hi, you must be Sally, would you like another coffee?" He asked, noting that she had emptied a large latte already. The cup looked cold, as if she had been there some time.

"Um sure ... yes ... why not?" Her nervous smile crinkled the edges of her eyes. Mid thirties he thought, single, probably a career girl.

"Two sugars right?"

"How did you ... yes please." He pointed at the sugar tubes opened on the saucer.

"Elementary." He laughed at his small joke and was pleased to see she had understood the reference to Sherlock Holmes. She wasn't entirely unread then.

Robert was able to study her in the reflection of the mirror behind the bar. Sally fussed with her floral dress, arranging, then, rearranging the folds as they fell over her knees. She fidgeted constantly, showing her agitation in jerky, incessant movements. Her dress hung off the shoulder with a fashionably low neck line, a copy of early sixties fashion with large flowers in red and pink printed on the voluminous material. Had she been slightly well endowed with breasts, it might have been revealing, fetching even, but on her, looked rather too much for her spare frame.

She had no jewellery on not even a watch adorned her body. Her fingers were very long, almost disproportionate to the rest of her hand, slender, but not quite bony. Thin wrists led to slender arms eventually lost in the dropped sleeve. Briefly, he imagined her naked, the image didn't fire his emotions.

The Barista handed him his change and two milky coffees on a tray, telling him the sugar was on a stand at the end of the counter. Robert loaded the saucers with the multicoloured tubes of sugar and a wooden stirrer each.

"So, tell me, what's the function you're going to?" He placed the coffee in front of her as he sat opposite.

"It's a presentation at the Lancaster Hotel. A dinner and dance event, its a couple's night and well ... I needed someone to go with..." She didn't quite say that she didn't have a boyfriend, but the pause filled in the blanks.

" ... I wanted to go; it's my first time and, well..." She ran out of words, her embarrassment painfully obvious by the flush in her cheeks and her hands wringing just below the table top. He couldn't miss her profound shyness and began to realise just how much this meeting was costing her, his admiration for her resolve increased.

"What do you do?" He thought, by subtly changing the cadence of their introductions to familiar territory, she might relax a little.

"I'm an Accountant for a law firm, been there for a few years. Its okay, but the hours are long. I don't get out much..." She puttered to a halt, still nervously wringing her hands in her lap, keeping her eyes downcast.

" ... anyway, how does this work" She might be nervous, but he liked her directness of purpose.

They sat over the coffee and discussed his fee for the evening, when and where to meet, then, left for their separate ways with a date for the Friday evening. She had arranged for a limousine to first pick him up and then her, on the way to the hotel.

At seven, Friday evening, Robert locked his front door and pocketed the keys in his rented tuxedo. The waiting stretched limo drove to her address in Chelsea, a narrow mews off of Flood Street.

Sally looked as if she should have wings sprouting from her back. Clothed as she was in a ball gown made up of layers of diaphanous gauzy materials, her elfin looks were highlighted, giving the effect of a wingless fairy. He marvelled at just how delicate she was, realising that she probably would be a size eight or less. Her hair rose up from her face, looking like it might be supported by some kind of hidden structure before falling, unhindered to her shoulders. It had been straightened and coloured lighter than her natural brown.

"You look fabulous." His compliment evinced a radiant smile which spread further when he offered her a trousseau of bright yellow orchids on a wrist band.

"Thank you." She smiled into his eyes as he closed the car door, taking care not to catch her foot in its glittering shoe.

The food was very good, several courses ranging from game, fish, fowl and red meats, each accompanied by complimentary wine, all served by hovering, liveried waiters, in a never ending supply, it seemed.

Sally was to receive one of the top awards, a partnership in the company after scoring a huge deal in Australia and Singapore. She returned back to their table clutching a glass and marble trophy and a grin that threatened to split her face. The award was a complete surprise to her, adding to the thrill of the achievement.

Some time later, when the room started to become louder, when drink induced conversations reached a cacophonous level, Sally leaned towards Robert and suggested that they make their exit. She had downed several flutes of champagne and was somewhat the worse for it.

They found the limousine, eventually, the driver was leaning against the side, smoking and chatting with other drivers who were also waiting for their charges. Robert opened the door for her and had to guide her in where her balance was off by a few degrees and one hand clutched the trophy.

The journey to her Chelsea mews was in complete silence, even the car whispered noiselessly through the London streets.

"Do you want to come up?" She asked him, her eyes unfocused, peering at his face.

"Um, okay, I'll see you in." Robert dismissed the driver, telling him he would catch a cab.

The combination of champagne and fresh air hit Sally quite suddenly. A hand flew to her mouth as if to dam anything from spewing out. It failed. She threw up in retching heaves, managing to aim it all into a concrete flower planter. She accepted his handkerchief and wiped her mouth while trying to apologise.