Chapter 2

"You OK?" Grace asked the frail woman struggling down the road. She had two bags of shopping and this was clearly too heavy for her as she buckled under the weight.

"Oh I'm fine, darling. Nearly home."

Grace looked at her watch, she was early for her shift, and turned around. "Here, let me help."

"That's very kind of you," the lady replied and passed the bags to Grace who followed her up the road. "If my Jeffrey was here, he'd have no problems with them. It's my legs, you see."

Grace humoured the woman by listening to her and nodding, as they progressed at a slow pace to the house adjacent to hers.

"You're my neighbour," she murmured as the lady unlocked the door.

"Oh, did you hear that couple on the ground floor last night. Oh, it kept me awake, it did. Shameful." Grace stayed silent and suppressed a smile, allowing the old woman to continue. "I mean you must be right on top of them, you must have heard it also."

Grace nodded, clearly the woman thought she was Eastern European, her mother was from Czechoslovakia and she had inherited a lot of features from her mother, and she didn't want to correct the assumption. "Everyone is only young once, aren't they?"

The woman sighed. "Oh you must have heard them. Wake up the souls of the dead they will. The souls of the dead."

Grace put the shopping in her front room and went to leave, explaining that she would be late for work. The woman thanked her, and tried to put a coin in her hand but Grace refused. Money might be tighter than she would have liked, but she wasn't reduced to taking money for favours. Well, not those sorts of favours anyway!

Grace ran her hands down the back of the tall gentleman. He was only a couple of years older than herself, which was a definite improvement on the first week of working at the massage parlour. He would be her last client of the night before she could go home and she was looking forward to getting out of the stuffy rooms.

Grace put the thoughts of her warm bed out of her mind. She had been warned many months ago when she first started working in the sex industry that it was a bad idea to let your mind wander, and although the massage was tedious, if she "lost interest" in the client and he noticed then he won't come back or worse, he would make a complaint to the manager.

The gentleman purred as her hands darted up her back and massaged his collarbone. He had been usually chatty for a punter and had wanted to engage in conversation with her as she massaged his back and legs with the oils.

She had tried to steer the chat away from herself; it was a classic ploy for punters to try and find out as much about the "girl" that they were about to screw and she was a little uncomfortable about it. She used her mothers' name, Katerina, while working and had never used her real name, Grace, until it slipped out a few moments ago when her guard was down.

For his part, the gentleman was very forthcoming but in a friendly way, she was used to her clients being a little aggressive or demanding, but he was laid-back, pleasant and just there to enjoy himself. He treated Grace as his willing partner and talked to her like it was a date, introducing himself and talking about his life, as well as showing a similar interest in Grace.

To this end, Grace found out that his name was Terry Williams and he was 24. He lived in Cheshire and worked for the family building firm but was about to take it over with a partner. He had a sister, no children but a fiancée. The small matter that he was here on a stag night and about to engage in sexual intercourse with another woman did not seem to deter him from telling Grace that he loved Anne and had bought her a diamond ring to seal their engagement.

Grace certainly warmed to Terry, he was a little smarmy and hypocritical but there was a harmlessness innocence to him that she liked. She parted his legs to start on his thighs and he looked back and smiled.

"Rugby legs," he told her and she nodded.

"They're like tree trunks," she said and squeezed the top of his toned thigh. He clenched his buttocks and she got a glimpse of his testicles – they were big!

Terry gave a satisfied moan as she deftly ran her hands down his thighs and calves. She knew he wanted sex, they had agreed on a price and taken his fifteen pounds before they had started with the massage. She glanced at the clock. She had been massaging him for half-an-hour and it was about time they started unless they wanted to not finish on time, and the manager start asking awkward questions and docking wages.

She gestured for the gentleman to roll over, which he smiled and did. She normally charged extra for a blow-job but if she liked the guy she would use her mouth as prelude to intercourse and to get him hard. In all her years of experience, she hadn't met a guy who didn't appreciate her lips around their member.

Grace very much did like him, and he was the last customer of the night, but most of all, he was the closest guy to her age, and the cleanest partner she had had for weeks and she wanted him to come back to her if he was to come back to the parlour at all.

"Just to get you in the mood," she whispered, looked up at him and wrapped her lips around the tip of his erect shaft. He groaned and she slid her tongue over his sensitive glans. Terry sucked in breath sharply. He had only ever received a blow job once and it was a very special sensation then. He put his hands on the top of Grace's head and stroked her hair.

Grace bobbed up and down on his shaft, it rapidly filled with blood to become fully erect. Terry grabbed hold of the edge of the table and gave a nasal groan.

Grace continued and put her fist at the base of his cock to gently pump it as her tongue whirled away over the top of his penis. Her left hand darted over his oiled thighs and he groaned loudly.

"That's good. I'm in the mood," Terry panted and Grace looked up at him.

"Do you want to me to fuck you or suck you?" She asked and grinned. "Or can you manage both?" Grace found herself saying; giving away free sex, she'd destroy her own market!

Terry gave a weird grunt as Grace sucked on the tip of his member. "Oh both please," he murmured and her hands touched his testicles and then his perineum.

"Oh fuck," Terry shouted and his muscles tightened. He began rocking back and forth, pivoting on his hips, and panting sharply. He felt a deep tightness across the backs of his testicles that Grace was happily stroking.

She felt the twitch, she knew he was about to unload his seed into her mouth. She was used to it, but Terry tried to withdraw, pushing his body into the worn towel on the barely padded bench, when he felt the passionate desperation in his loins; his only other oral experience ended in a row when he didn't pull out.

Grace didn't let him and clamped her mouth over his rod. "I'm coming," Terry whimpered and Grace ran her tongue underneath his head. Terry spewed his semen into her warm mouth with a shuddering grunt and a volley of mewed cries.

Grace took all of his semen, looked up the table at him and made an exaggerated swallowing motion with a sultry look at him. He looked at her open-mouthed, panting as his cock slowly stopped twitching.

"You swallowed it. Girls don't normally swallow, do they?"

Grace chuckled and kissed him on the cheek. "Depends on the girl, doesn't it?"

Terry sat up and looked at his deflated cock. "Not sure I'll manage to get it up again and finished in fifteen minutes," he replied forlornly and Grace kissed the shaft and then the tip.