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Me, a Prostitute !


The night was chilly and damp. I wasn't dressed for
it but at first I hardly noticed the weather... I stood at
a street corner in Chapeltown and, looking at my watch,
I could see it was just past ten o'clock. I had a long
night ahead of me. The cobbles shone wetly and black, with
orange lights and streetsigns reflected in the puddles
and mist haloing the streetlamps. I teetered on five-inch
heels, to which I was unaccustomed, worried that any false
step could send me sprawling into the gutter. I'd tried
the shoes on earlier, at home, and seen how they affected
the way I stood - forcing me onto tiptoe, my bottom thrust
out, my breasts held high, to achieve that precarious balance.
It had been hard enough to walk on the smooth surface of my
kitchen lino. Now I had maybe six hours or so ahead of me -
although of course, I didn't expect to be standing
up all that time...
I'd tried on the whole outfit earlier that day for the
first time. You'd brought it round, you'd chosen
every item, none of which I'd ever seen before. It wasn't
the sort of thing I'd ever have worn normally, not even
to a party - well, maybe to a tarts and vicars do, but actually
I'd probably have gone as a female vicar. The clothes
I had on consisted of a tacky black PVC halter-neck top which
zipped up the front as far as the plunging neckline; a red
lace suspender-belt and seamed black stockings; and over
that, a microscopically short black leather miniskirt
with a zip all the way up one side - a zip, you'd informed
me, which was to remain fully open at all times. Not that
it made much difference - the skirt was so short that it cleared
my stocking-tops by a couple of inches anyway and little,
very little, was left to the imagination.
I had to admit that I rather liked the way the skintight PVC
halterneck supported my tits and gave me an impressive
cleavage. If it had been made of less cheap material it could
have looked quite stunning. As it was, the overall effect
of the outfit - finished by those cliff-edge five inch red
stilettos - was tawdry, sleazy and cheap. As a rule I didn't
wear much make-up but tonight was an exception. If nothing
else, it was a mask to hide behind. It was highly unlikely
that anyone who knew me would be passing through Chapeltown
- and no-one who did would think to recognise the ordinary
housewife they knew in the painted whore loitering for
a client on the street-corner.
You'd bought me the pitch for the night - otherwise
there's no way I'd have been allowed to stand there,
plying a trade that was to be my calling for the night - for
just one night... You'd even fixed me up a room nearby,
so that I could take any clients back who wanted to pay the
extra. But you'd warned me that most of my business
would take place right there on the street. My instructions
were simple. I was to stand there until you came to fetch
me and I was to take all comers... Half an hour had passed
and apart from one or two other girls further down the street,
Chapeltown seemed deserted. Of course it was early yet
- the pubs were still full. Come chucking-out time, things
would be different.
You'd dropped me off early so that the full enormity
of what I was about to undertake would have time to sink in.
Earlier it hadn't seemed real - it was just a game. Now
the initial adrenaline surge was beginning to wear off
and I began to feel the chill of the evening striking into
my inadequately-covered flesh. I clasped my arms about
me, envying the girl I could see about fifty yards away,
in her short but cosy fur coat. You'd smiled slyly when
I'd asked what I was to wear over the top of my outfit.
'You'll do as you are', you'd said. 'The
cold will give you an incentive to work hard'. When
you'd arrived with the clothes and told me what I was
to do tonight, I'd felt a thrill of undeniable excitement
mixed in with the fear. You knew, of course, because I'd
told you, that acting as a prostitute for the night was one
of my favourite fantasies and of course we'd acted
the scenario out between us many times. But this was different
- this was on another level entirely. This was the real thing
and it had never occurred to me that I'd ever actually
be in the position I was now in.
But here I was, and what was more, I was here with your blessing.
More even than that, I was under orders. I couldn't
refuse this experience whether I thought I wanted to or
not. You'd given me this chance as if conferring a privilege
on me - this was a gift from you to me, albeit a gift of a strange
kind. I wondered too how you felt about sharing me with any
number of strangers. This too was new territory for us.
Occasionally, you'd made me perform for various of
your friends and acquaintances, but always under your
direct control. Tonight I was at the whim of a host of unknowns...
I might pick up one or two punters or possibly a legion of
them - I had no way of knowing exactly what lay ahead...
I was so busy mulling these thoughts over, turning the implications
round and around in my head that I almost missed my first
punter altogether. He'd come right up to me and was
even now taking hold of my arm and motioning with his head
around the corner into the alleyway between the back-to-backs.
'Not seen you around before', he said. 'No,
I'm new', I answered and he smiled. 'You'll
be busy tonight then, love' he commented, pushing
me into a doorway and undoing his flies. 'Ten pounds
for a wank, twenty for a blow-job, forty for a fuck',
I said, not absolutely sure what the going rates were but
not really caring either. He produced a couple of ten-pound
notes, which I stuffed down the front of my halter-neck
top, and pushed me to my knees on the cobbles.
I had a split-second vision of myself as I must appear to
an observer, as I took this unknown man's cock into
my mouth. I could hardly believe I was doing it yet in another
way it seemed the most natural thing in the world. It was
a simple act, after all, and one I'd performed countless
times in the past. When you're down there on your knees
a cock is just a cock and bar some exceptionally unusual
ones, any cock could be attached to any body really... Or
so I reasoned in that split-second before I had to stop thinking
and concentrate on the job in hand.
Funnily enough, it took much less time than I'd expected.
I rather prided myself on the quality of my blow-job technique,
but this man wasn't interested in a virtuoso performance.
He just wanted to come, and after only a couple of minutes
thrusting fairly roughly in and out of my mouth, come he
did, grunting as if in pain as he shot a decent load of cum
down my throat. Judging by the quantity and the speed of
his response, it had been a fair while since his last orgasm.
He pulled away from me and did up his flies. With a muttered
'Goodnight, love' he set off back into the main
street and I got to my feet, slightly unsteadily and almost
light-headed with relief.
I'd just survived my first encounter, it had been a
success and I'd lived to tell the tale. In fact it had
been relatively easy really. Perhaps I was a natural. Walking
gingerly I picked my way back across the cobbles to the main
street. I glanced at my watch. The entire incident had lasted
barely fifteen minutes. I felt high on adrenaline, I no
longer felt cold. I stood on my pitch more confidently,
even though I stood alone - the other girls might tolerate
me for the night, they knew the score, but I wasn't one
of them and they kept their distance. I didn't care.
I felt wrapped in my task as if in a protective blanket. I
wanted to be alone, so that I could experience it as clearly
and cleanly as possible - no distractions...
My second client appeared and again I found myself on my
knees on the cobbles. Only my second man yet already I felt
as if I'd been doing this for years. This one was less
prepossessing than my first - he smelt, he had a huge beergut,
his clothes looked like he slept in them. He didn't
talk much but held my head so closely as he thrust his cock
in and out of my mouth that I was stifled. I wished he'd
hurry up and come but he was slower than the first one too.
My jaws ached and my temples throbbed with pressure. I was
trying to breathe through my nose but what with his body
and the way he held me it was difficult. I slipped my fingers
between his legs, massaging his balls with one hand while
pressing hard, suddenly, on his perineum with the other.
This did the trick and brought him to orgasm but he pulled
back as he came and shot his cum all over my face.
I wasn't sure what etiquette was in this sort of case.
Maybe he even thought he'd done me a favour, not coming
in my mouth. He looked down at me, the spunk dripping off
my nose and chin, plastered all over my cheek, gleaming
orange in the sodium light from the streetlamp down the
way. He grinned. 'Lick it', he said and dutifully
I put out my tongue and licked off what I could. 'You're
a good sport', he said. 'I'll look out for
you again'. And with that he vanished into the night.
Subdued, I got to my feet, wiping what remained of his cum
off my face with the back of my hand. I had nothing with me
to repair the damage to my make-up and already I could feel
the tightness as his cum dried on my skin. This had somehow
been different to the first encounter. It couldn't
just be because of the unattractiveness of the man - I hadn't
found the first one attractive after all - but this had been
Perhaps it was just that it was beginning to dawn on me that
I really did have no choice in the matter. No choice... those
words were a powerful charm to me. So many times I'd
heard them and every time they were uttered by you I felt
a rush of juice in my cunt as the charm worked its magic in
my mind. Yet almost always the matter in which I had no choice
was one in which I didn't want any choice anyway. You
took away my freedom in order to free me to do those things
that, when I *was* free, I didn't have the nerve to demand.
It was a paradox but one we both understood and used to our
mutual advantage. Now once again I had no choice but I felt
less in control and more worrying, I wasn't sure that
*you* were in control either. But I shook my head free of
that unworthy thought. Of course you were in control. I
hobbled back to my corner, my knees bruised from the cobbles,
holes in my stockings. What with that and my face, I was looking
somewhat the worse for wear and now, I realised, the streets
were suddenly full - the pubs had emptied of their clientele
and my night was about to begin in earnest.
The next couple of hours passed in a blur. I lost track of
the numbers of men I serviced. Almost every one of them simply
wanted a blowjob and I would hardly make it back to the main
street, my mouth still full of the taste of the previous
client, before the next had hurried me back around the corner
and was undoing his flies while I crouched on the cold, wet
stones at his feet. The stack of notes in my halter-neck
top was growing. I stopped thinking about the men - the job
became entirely mechanical at this stage. My face ached
as never before, the amount of cum in my stomach made me sick
to think of it, any glamour the job had had for me had vanished
long ago, round about the time my fourth punter had followed
his orgasm - another in-my-face number - with a few swift
and hard slaps and harder words.
My eyes had filled with tears but I told myself he was a sad
bastard and anyway, he had a very small dick which probably
explained everything. I was quite surprised when occasionally
a fuck was called-for - then I extricated a condom from a
small pouch under my skirt but so far, the one or two men who'd
wanted sex had settled for a quick knee-trembler in the
alley, pressing me back - or forwards - against a doorway.
That had been better than the endless succession of blow-jobs
- for a start my legs were protesting at all the time spent
on my knees on the unforgiving cobbles - and it made for a
break from swallowing jet after jet of come...
Around one there was another lull and I actually made it
back onto the street this time without meeting any prospective
client on the way. My legs were actually trembling with
exhaustion by this time - partly it was all the kneeling
and partly it was the strain of those damn heels. I just wasn't
used to them and it felt like a heavy task in its own right
just trying to balance and walk in them. I knew I must look
a mess by now and when the car pulled up beside me, although
I didn't recognise it, at first I wondered if it was
you come to take me home. I would have gone happily, relieved
the night was over. It was perfectly possible that you'd
be in a strange car - I assumed you'd been keeping an
eye on me all night, one way or another...
But it wasn't you I saw as I stepped up to the wound-down
window. The man inside asked me to get in and take him to my
room for a fuck. I looked around quickly, trying to see you.
Of course I couldn't and you'd prepared for this
eventuality so I assumed you'd be watching over me.
Nevertheless, getting into that car felt incredibly dangerous
and my admiration for the women who made this their daily
work increased in leaps and bounds. Once in the car, I relaxed
a little, because the man who was driving had an open, friendly
sort of face with a distinct twinkle in his eye. 'Where
to, love?' he asked and I gave him directions - in fact
the room was only a couple of hundred yards away but I had
to admit, it was blissful sitting down if only for a few minutes.
I was pleased to be able to take stock at last and start thinking
again instead of merely functioning as a physical receptacle
for all these men's most basic needs. The man I was about
to fuck must have been in his mid-fifties. He was on the stout
side but quite powerfully-built - like a man who'd
prided himself on his body in his youth but who now had let
go rather. He was balding and about the same height as me
in my stilettos, so not very tall. But there was something
about him - a certain physical ease and confidence. I was
glad he'd opted to come back to the room. Something
of my initial excitement returned. I led the way upstairs
and unlocked the door. The room was simply-furnished to
say the least - there was a double bed, spread with a sheet
alone; a chair and small chest-of-drawers; a frayed rug
on top of old green lino; and a wash-basin; but it was clean
and the gas-fire was already on, burning on its lowest setting,
so the place was warm and seemed very welcoming, to my cold
and weary bones at any rate.
He sat on the bed and unlaced his boots, then looked up at
me. 'Let's see you strip then love' he said.
Strange, after so many men that night, this was the first
time I'd actually had to undress. For a moment I felt
like a novice all over again. Then I thought, what the hell,
it's warm here and he seems nice enough - the longer
he stays with me here, the longer till I have to go back out
on the streets... Slowly, I inched the zipper down on the
halter-neck top. In fact the zip was more decorative than
functional - the way to get out of the top was to release the
clips behind my neck and waist - but I was going to make this
a show he'd remember... However, I'd forgotten
about all the money I'd stuffed down there during the
course of the evening. Suddenly, as the zip inched below
a critical point, showers of tenners fluttered out and
fell all over the floor. The man on the bed roared with laughter
and I blushed as I stooped down to pick them all up as quickly
as I could. As I bent down, of course my breasts fell out of
the top and what had been going to be a slow and elegant strip
was dangerously near descending into farce.
My client was now wiping tears of mirth from his eyes. Although
mortified at first, I couldn't help suddenly seeing
the funny side myself and as I shoved all the money into the
chest-of-drawers a giggle escaped me too. I sat down suddenly
on the bed beside him, too weak in the knees with laughter
and weariness for my legs to support me. 'It's
clear you're not an expert at this' my client said
when he'd regained his composure - although he was
still grinning broadly. 'You're right, '
I admitted. 'It's the first time I've ever
done anything like this really'. 'Why start now?'
he asked, clearly intrigued. 'It's a long story,
you don't want to hear really' I said. 'Try
me' he said. Well, orders are orders... I wasn't
about to go into my entire sexual history but I had to come
up with something that was as near to the truth as possible.
'OK, ' I said. 'if you really want to know
- I always fancied having a go at this and... well, my boyfriend
dared me... so this is a one-off, tonight. I'm doing
it for a dare.'
His eyes widened as he took in what I'd said. Then he
expelled his breath in a long slow whistle. 'Well,
well, well...' he said. 'I've struck lucky
tonight and no mistake. A woman who's doing it for the
love of the thing - that's a rare commodity, that is.'
He thought for a moment, drumming his fingers on his knees.
'You'll carry on with the strip and we'll
fuck' he said. 'But I'm just going to call
a couple of my friends. You've no objection I take it?
Come one come all?' I thought for a split-second. This
possibility hadn't occurred to me but after all, why
not? You'd told me to take all comers and if they came
three-at-a-time, what of it? Furthermore.... my mouth
curved in a smile. Maybe more than just one of my fantasies
was about to be realised tonight...
He asked me the address and I was glad I'd made a mental
note of it when you'd shown me the room earlier that
day. He made a couple of calls on his mobile and I had visions
of men waking blearily in their marital beds and being summoned
to an orgy with no prior warning. I couldn't help wondering
whether they thought it was a wind-up but my client didn't
seem to worry about disturbing them at this late hour. And
if he wasn't worried, there was no reason why I should
be. He smiled when he put his 'phone away. 'We should
have plenty of time to ourselves first, ' he commented.
'I'd like to have you all to myself for a bit - but
this is something I had to share...'
He jerked his head at me - a clear gesture that told me it was
time to get on with the strip. While he'd been speaking
on the 'phone I'd pulled my zipper up a bit so that
I could start again and make a better attempt at it this time.
The earlier fiasco and our subsequent chat had cemented
some sort of bond between us. We seemed less like prostitute
with client now and more like sexual partners... I hardly
knew this man but felt that he was someone who in other circumstances
I'd get along well with. I felt relaxed with him now
and that showed in my movements as I rose to my feet, sashayed
around to stand in front of him and teasingly began to lower
my zipper once more.
I kepy my movements slow and seductive, swaying my hips
as I balanced in those criminally-high heels, and freed
my breasts with a flourish. I tossed the PVC halter-neck
onto the chair and caressed my breasts lovingly. It felt
good, the air on them after they'd been sweatily bound
in plastic for all these hours. I teased my nipples with
my fingertips, hardening them... using my hands cupped
around my breasts to show them off - after all, they were
one of my best features in most men's eyes. My friend
- as I had begun to think of him - smiled appreciatively and
I leant towards him, offering him them to suck. I only let
him have the merest lick before pulling away again and then,
holding his gaze with my own, I bent my head and lifted my
left breast to my own lips. I sucked the nipple into my mouth
and chewed gently on the end. It felt good and I knew he enjoyed
seeing me do this. But I was conscious of time slipping away
and stepped back again. It was time to get on with the strip.
Next to go was my skirt - all I had to do was unhook the catch
that held it in place around my waist - but I held onto the
waistband with both hands after I'd undone it, conscious
that once I let it fall he'd be able to see my cunt and
not wanting to reveal all to him immediately. I turned my
back and held the skirt - now one rectangle of leather - wide,
and as if it was a towel with which I was drying myself, I rubbed
my arse against it. Then I lowered my arms slowly, slowly...
inching the skirt down so that more and more of my arse was
revealed to him - as was the fact, if he hadn't guessed
it already, that I wasn't wearing knickers. Now it
was the turn of the skirt to be thrown neatly onto the chair
as I stood there clad only in my narrow red suspender-belt,
black stockings and red shoes. I knew my back view must be
delightful, my round arse framed in red lace and black nylon.
My friend certainly seemed to think so - I could hear him
clearing his throat.
I stepped out of the shoes, turning around to face him as
I did so. The fact that I was now several inches shorter and
that my legs wouldn't look so good would be more than
offset by the sight of my naked, clean-shaven cunt, the
gold of the ring in my clit hood gleaming at the point where
my labia flowered from my mons. Standing closer to him,
my cunt at his eye-level, I put a foot up beside him on the
bed. He could now see right inside me if he wanted to - my cunt,
not at all to my surprise, was feeling distinctly juicy
and open - and as I undid the suspenders on that leg, I could
smell the delicious scent of my own sex. Keeping my leg up,
my thigh almost brushing his cheek, I unrolled the stocking
and drew it off my leg. Then I repeated the operation with
my other leg. I moved even closer so that this time he could
hardly help but bury his nose in my cunt...
Deftly I unhooked the suspender belt and dropped it onto
the floor. My friend pressed his face into my cunt, inhaling
my scent, which luckily was all mine - the rubbery smell
of the condoms the other clients had used now well hidden
under the intoxicating perfume of my own moisture. I caressed
the back of his neck, pressing his face further into me and
moving my hips against him. This was definitely more like
it. This was how I'd imagined it could be... He put his
hands on my waist and gently but firmly put me from him. 'Time
I got my own kit off' he said, and undressed quickly,
laying his clothes neatly on the chair. I'd stretched
out on the bed and it was no time at all before he joined me.
I wasn't sure whether to take the lead or let him choose
how we fucked. All I knew was that for the first time that
night I was actually turned on by the client himself and
the thing we were doing. Before, it had been the idea of what
they were doing to me - the use to which I was being put. The
men could have been anyone - were indeed anyone. But this
was different.
Fleetingly I wondered if my desire to fuck this man counted
as unfaithfulness to you - but no, it couldn't be. We
both knew what things were likely to happen to me and that
one way or another I would take pleasure in those things...
that had been your intention, after all. That, plus your
own pleasure in knowing that I would do this, would indeed
do anything, for you, unquestioningly. It never ceased
to amaze and gratify me that we'd found each other -
I who took pleasure in such esoteric things and you, who
wanted me to do them and found your own pleasure thereby.
He moved close to me and stroked his fingers over my cunt,
tugging gently at the ring, which caused ripples of pleasurable
sensation to surge through me. His fingers explored, smoothing
over my nakedness, spreading me open as they went, dipping
just inside my cunt, discovering me and tantalising me
at one and the same time. This wasn't a casual fuck -
this was making love... He leant over and kissed me. I knew
prostitutes weren't in the habit of kissing their
clients but this was different and I opened my mouth to his.
His lips were surprisingly gentle and soft and he actually
kissed rather well. His mouth tasted good and I gave myself
up to the kiss, feeling more and more turned on by this man.
As his teeth closed playfully over my lower lip, I felt his
cock sliding into my cunt at last. I gasped at the rightness
of the feeling and wrapped my legs around his body.
Slowly at first, he moved in and out of me, long deliberate
strokes that each time made me fear he intended to withdraw
altogether but controlled so that he never did. Gradually
he built the rhythm up so that he was fucking me harder and
faster. I was fucking him back, clasping my cunt muscles
around him, trying to give him as much pleasure as he was
giving me. He moved so that he was almost kneeling, and lifted
my legs high, holding my ankles up in one strong hand so that
I was bent back on myself and he could watch his cock sliding,
more slowly now, in and out of me. I couldn't see, of
course, but suddenly it occurred to me that I hadn't
put a condom on him and I didn't know if he'd put
one on himself. I assumed that he would have done, out of
a sense of self-preservation if nothing else...
He moved again so that my ankles were resting on his shoulders
and leant forwards so that I was doubled-up underneath
him. Now he moved harder and faster, harder and faster,
knocking the breath out of me with each delicious stroke.
Thoughts of condoms, all thoughts of any kind, vanished
as I gave myself up to the man and the act, the all-encompassing
sensations that were building in my body. Suddenly, he
stopped, pulling back slightly. 'I don't want
to come just yet', he muttered. 'I'll wait...
save it till the others get here...' Slowly, he withdrew
from me and I lowered my legs to the bed. My cunt, dripping
wet, ached to be filled once more. Instead, we lay next to
each other, tracing the lines of our bodies, exploring
the textures, hills and hollows with our fingers and the
tastes of skin, salt and slick with sweat, with our tongues.
We caught each others' gazes and laughed, almost guiltily.
Surely it wasn't actually supposed to be this good...
That, at least, was what I was thinking when the knock came
at the door. 'Company', he said with a smile, and
smacked me lightly on the arse. 'Get up, woman, and
let them in'. Naked, I rose from the bed and opened the
door to the two men who stood there slightly awkwardly.
My friend raised himself on one elbow and called them into
the room. 'We didn't wait for you, ' he said
with a grin, 'but there's plenty to go around.
Better get undressed - I should...' He didn't
make introductions but I hardly expected that - it would
have been difficult anyway, as he didn't know my name...
His friends stripped, laying their clothes neatly on top
of his and mine on the chair and I could hardly help noticing
that both of them were already hard and obviously eager
to join the fray.
Both the newcomers were younger than him, although only
one appeared to be younger than I was - and he was a really
handsome-looking young man in his early twenties, too
young for me - I always preferred older men - but then again,
too gorgeous to resist, not that resisting was on the cards
tonight no matter what they looked like. This young man
had tanned skin, as if he worked outdoors, stripped to the
waist, in all weather. He had thick, floppy chestnut hair
worn long on top but shaved into the nape of his neck - a nape
that just begged to be caressed... In fact he had rather
the look of a glossy-maned pony, you wanted to stroke him...
The older man was about my own age, maybe a little older,
also tanned and his dark hair, close-cropped, was grizzled.
He had deep-set green eyes and I felt a lurch of lust deep
within when our glances met.
Heavens, what was happening to me tonight.... I felt insatiable.
I'd already performed sexual acts with more men, in
this one night, than in my entire life up till now, and yet
here I was, wanting even more. I shook my head with a little
laugh. Going back to everyday life would perhaps seem rather
tame after this... There was little time for reflection
after that. Soon we were all on the bed together - I hoped
it was strong enough - and tangled up in a mess of limbs and
parts and hair and hands so that it was impossible for me
to tell which bit belonged to which man and really it hardly
seemed to matter - they made sure no one of them missed out...
At first we were just touching and stroking and feeling
each other, using hands and mouths to touch and lick, kiss
and bite, stroke and pinch, in a barrage of sensation that
was exquisite in its unpredictability.
Wherever I laid my hands or mouth, an eager cock found its
target, or a mouth closed around my fingers, or my breasts...
I sucked and kissed and nibbled and stroked each of them,
as constantly they moved around me and in turn, no part of
my body was left unkissed, unlicked, untouched... My cunt
was spilling its juices down my thighs and always there
was a tongue there licking them up... Fingers probed my
arse, my cunt, my mouth, my ears even. Our legs and arms entwined
and it was impossible to tell where one body ended and one
began or, in the end, whose pleasure was the greater...
Finally, someone's cock penetrated my cunt and as
we rocked together, blind with lust, another cock fed itself
into my mouth. I was unaware of who was fucking me or who I
was sucking, I'd closed my eyes the better to give myself
up to physical sensation...
I was sitting astride, circling my hips, controlling the
pace at which we fucked. The man I was impaled upon was of
a good size but I was so wet and open that it was hard to keep
him within me. Then I felt a gentle pressure on my neck as
I was pushed forward... I opened my eyes to see that the man
I was fucking was the gorgeous youngster, and as I was pushed
further down my breasts dangled into his face. He took one
of my nipples into his mouth and closed his own eyes in a beatific
expression of satisfaction as he chewed on my nipple, almost
smothered by my breasts. The man I was sucking lowered himself
to his knees, the joints cracking like pistol-shots, and
I recognised the man who'd claimed my attention in
the first place. That meant that the man whose cock was even
now pressing gently but firmly against my arsehole was
the man with the beautiful eyes, the one who'd made
my stomach flip over when I'd first taken a look at him.
I relaxed my muscles, making the entry as easy for him as
possible. He knew what he was doing and evidently didn't
want to hurt me - he took his time, his cock hard but only inching
forward as he penetrated me slowly, so slowly that I hardly
felt the moment that he slipped inside. The feeling was
almost indescribable - I'd never felt so full in my
life. I couldn't concentrate on what was happening,
one moment more conscious of the cock in my mouth, then the
one in my cunt, then the one in my arse - it seemed impossible
to comprehend the totality of sensation, as if my brain
and body were overloaded and could not cope with the full
experience... But although my brain was shutting down,
my body seemed to be taking over. I'd given up on trying
to control anything that was happening now - the men were
setting their own rhythm, and all I had to do was to give myself
up to them utterly. I felt like a ragdoll, let myself go limp
so as not to interfere with the beat of our bodies.
The man beneath me could take no more, what with my own writhings
as I was thrust into by the man behind me and the extra stimulation
that thrusting was giving him. He shuddered and stiffened
as he came, pumping his cock into me with all the vigour you'd
expect in a man his age. The man in my arse stepped up his rhythm
and fucked me harder and faster. Although he'd used
nothing but my own juices to lube me with, I was so wet and
open now that it felt to me that he was sliding in and out almost
as easily as if it were into my cunt. Meanwhile my old friend
was still holding out, admirably, at my mouth, determined
to last at least as long as his younger colleagues. The man
I still sat astride was softening slowly inside me and in
fact this made the vigorous arse-fucking I was still receiving
more pleasurable - I was no longer stretched almost beyond
my capacity.
Nevertheless I felt on the verge of collapse and would have
allowed myself to sink onto my stomach if it hadn't
been for my old friend still availing himself of my mouth.
I put all my efforts now into pleasuring him - the others
could take care of themselves. I looked up at my friend and
smiled at him as well as I could around his cock. I did my best
to alternate long wet licks with sucking and nibbling although
it was hard to control my actions with the man behind me now
holding me tightly at the hips and thrusting into me more
and more quickly as he built towards his climax. The sight
of this coupled with my closer attention, however, proved
too much now for the older man and at last he came, his cock
unleashing copious amounts of cum into my mouth and down
my throat.
This sudden outpouring into my mouth tipped me over the
edge into my own orgasm - the first in that long night, but
one which had been building in me slowly, little by little
but inexorably, almost from the moment you'd arrived
at my front door hours earlier with my now-discarded tart's
clothes in your hands. Slowly as it had arrived, drawing
upon sensations such as I'd never experienced before
and emotions stirred deeply by the behaviour you'd
forced me into during the course of the past few hours, behaviour
which answered some deeply-felt need that till now had
never truly been met, now it crashed upon me with the full
force of a tidal wave. It felt as if I'd never come before,
as if this was a totally new way of feeling, stronger and
more moving and devastating than any orgasm I'd ever
experienced in my life up till now. Totally abandoned to
the moment and my physical being, I moaned and thrashed
and my body jerked over and over in spasms of pleasure so
sharp they were almost like pain... All of which was far
too much for the man in my arse and crying out as if he too was
in pain, he came inside me, clinging onto my body as if to
something solid in a stormy sea.
I certainly felt as if I'd been overtaken by nothing
less than shipwreck or earthquake or flood... Waves of
sweeter, lesser pleasure were still washing over me as
I slipped down onto the bed, my muscles still clenching
and unclenching rhythmically... It seemed like the longest
orgasm I'd had in my entire life. All four of us lay there,
drained, slippery with sweat which cooled rapidly now
on our relaxed bodies. Perhaps we slept - certainly we lay
there in companionable silence, replete, while we gathered
our wits and our strength. My old friend, finally, was the
first to make a move. 'It's three in the morning,
friends' he said. 'Time we were on our way.'
He turned to look at me as he pulled on his clothes. 'What
about you, love?' he asked. 'What now for you?'
What indeed, I wondered dully. I supposed I had to dress
and go back out onto the streets - a prospect which was anything
but pleasing at that late hour, in my current state of blissed-out
exhaustion, in that cold, damp night. 'I'll drop
you off', he said and at his words the others were galvanised
into life. Almost embarrassed to be in each other's
company now, we all dressed hurriedly. Shame-facedly,
the men added a considerable amount to the stack of tenners
in the chest-of-drawers. They looked round quickly to
make sure they had all their belongings and we left the little
room with its rumpled bed, the room which now reeked - deliciously
- of sex...
The others went their way and I followed my friend to his
car. We said little on the short drive back to my pitch. He
dropped me off there and as I took up my position once again,
he leant through the car window and called softly, 'All
the best, love - that was a night to remember and no mistake!'
I smiled back and gave him a little wave. The truth was that
I was now weary of the whole business and much as I'd
enjoyed the last couple of hours, it was over and I wanted
him gone. It had been wonderful - all and more than I could
ever have hoped - but it was not the sort of thing that made
for a lasting relationship. I smiled to myself as his car
pulled away. I was alone on the streets. In all directions,
empty wet cobbles stretched, reflecting intermittently
the orange glare of the sodium lights. The other girls had
evidently finished for the night. Surely soon, now, I'd
see your car in the distance. You'd come for me and take
me home...

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My god! What a sexy story, had me rock hard and ready for coming
while I was reading it. Wow!


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That was one of the most erotic stories I have ever read -
Thank You