“Desperately,” I reply, at this point wanting only to release the incredible, nearly unbearable pressure.
“Beg for it,” she says while she massages my balls with her right hand and plays with my cock with her left.
“Please let me cum,” I say.
She tilts her head and eyes me with a slightly raised brow.
“Mistress,” I add.
“That’s better,” she says. “But I want you to say it again. Like you mean it this time.”
“Please mistress, please let me cum.”
She laughs and then just like that she deepthroats me again, effortlessly, holding it, holding it, holding it, my cock constricting her breath, gagging her, and then she starts moving her head up and down, up and down her lips moving the full length of my shaft, from tip to base, over and over again, her hair flipping everywhere, covering half her face but her gaze never leaving mine, her eyes deadly serious, hard at work, pushing me to the edge and then over it and my sphincter tightens and I buck my hips and I say, “oh shit, oh shit, oh shit” over and over again and then my sphincter releases and so does my cock as I feel the cum shooting out, threatening to blow out the back of her throat and then she leans back just a little, changing the angle so the cum will flow better and takes my cock all the way into the back of her throat and holds is there as I cum and cum and cum some more, my body jerking and spasming in uncontrollable bursts and she takes it all, swallowing everything I have to offer seemingly without effort.
I lean back and stare at the ceiling, exhausted with the effort. My breath is ragged and I’m sweating all over. I put my hands over my face and laugh a little bit to release the tension.
She slides up next to me and drops her head onto my chest.
“Have fun?” she says. Her demeanor is relaxed, playful. The role-playing is over.
“I had a great time,” I say.
“That’s good,” she says. “I aim to please.”
“Well you certainly did that.” I reach over and open the drawer of the nightstand next to the bed and pull out twenty $100 dollar bills and hand them to her.
“Thanks, baby,” she says, “Next time you’re in the mood to get pushed around a little bit, make sure you ask for me.”
“Will do.”
She taps my leg a couple of times and stands up. “You mind if I finish the wine?” she says.
“Not at all. Be my guest.”
She nods in thanks, pours the last glass, throws it down, puts on her clothes, and walks out with nothing more than brief wave goodbye. No pretense, no small-talk, no awkwardness. Just the way I like it.
#####
ONE FILTHY ESCORT
By this point, if you’ve read any of my other confessions, you know why I love escorts so much. But for those of you who don’t know, it comes down to this basic fact: You get exactly what you want whenever you want it with no hassle at all. Not to mention a wide variety of hot chicks at your disposal with just a simple phone call. What could be better than that? Nothing. At least I didn’t think so. But now I’m not so sure. Things have changed in my world. Maybe it’s just temporary, or maybe it’s permanent. I don’t know yet. But what I do know is this: I had an experience that altered my perceptions.
It was a night with an escort, just like so many of the others, but this one turned out different. It was a function of the woman herself, a gorgeous, tactful, exotic, considerate, grounded beauty unlike any other I’d ever been with. Now, don’t get me wrong, she was still a nasty-as-hell, fully functional, perverted sex machine, but she was classy. She was proof that there are women out there who can give me what I need sexually as well as fulfill me in other ways. (Of course, now the trick is finding one, but we’ll worry about that later.)
So here, for your appreciation, is my final night with an escort. Hopefully you enjoy it as much as I did. But I doubt it.
#
There’s a knock on my door. I take a deep breath and walk over to it and open it up, eschewing the peephole. I want to be surprised. And I am. In a good way.
The woman at the door is far more beautiful than I could have ever hoped for, standing just a few inches shorter than me with a slim, athletic body beneath her tight raincoat. Her long black hair is pulled back, showing off the perfect lines of her face. Narrow chin, high cheeks, big brown eyes, small nose, and thick, dick-sucking lips lined with dark maroon lipstick. Her skin is incredibly tan, golden brown, hinting at some exotic family background.
She holds out her hand, palm down. I take it and kiss the top of it, then lead her into the room.
I close the door behind us and by the time I turn around she’s already undone her raincoat and dropped it to the floor.
She’s wearing a tight, lacy black lingerie top that ends just below her perfectly proportioned, large but not too-large tits. She’s got a black bikini bottom and black lace stockings on her incredibly toned, muscular legs. She spins in place, showing off a tight, absolutely ridiculous ass and revealing little bows on the back of her stockings. She undoes a clip in her hair, letting it fall down her back, almost all the way to her waist.
Still facing away from me, showing off her ass, she turns her upper body and looks back at me.
“Do you like what you see?” she asks, her voice laced
