Deep Inside

Every woman has her price for performing bizarre sex acts. They all deny it of course, because they aren't rich. They can't imagine volumes of money larger than the cost of their house, beyond that its all hazy abstraction.

I have sexual kinks that cost an awful lot of money, which makes it very difficult for my fixer, Jackson, to find women with enough imagination to appreciate how well they will be remunerated. Usually I end up flying half way round the world, to Thailand or somewhere like that. This time was different though. My most bizarre fuck yet, and Jackson had found me an English girl.

Not that I mind flying across the world. I have a fleet of planes and a passion for flying. I've had this passion since before my accident, when I was just a van driver's mate. My dream was to be a pilot, even though I hadn't even the taxi fare to the airport, let alone money for flying lessons. Then one day our van was hit by a tanker, killing the drivers of both vehicles and spilling burning petrol across the M1. I got away with just losing my leg and spending six weeks in a coma. The compensation money reflected the wealth of the tanker owners, which I invested in starting up my own business; private imports, if you know what I mean. That was forty years ago and now I have the money for my own personal fleet of aircraft, but my retinas never recovered from the crash, so I need other people to pilot me.

As usual, I was meeting the girl at a hotel. Jackson was there already. 'She's all ready for you,' he told me breathlessly, his short legs struggling to keep up with me, despite my artificial leg, 'and the doctor's waiting in the adjacent suite with his nurse.'

'And she's aware of what's expected of her?' I asked, ignoring the concierge who, like all of his kind, was a loser who could do nothing else with his life.

'She's scared at what you're about to do to her, but she's too excited about the money to cause any problems. She's going to save Ethiopia with it, or somewhere like that.'

'All I need to know is that everything is as it should be.' I said sharply. Sometimes Jackson forgot himself. Not that I minded, his failure to remain detached was his only weakness. When he was with me Jackson was almost always the picture of the attentive servant. He never complained about the long hours I made him spend away from his family. Never complained about the stress I put him under. I had rung him at 3am this morning to bring this little rendezvous forward, meaning that he had to leave immediately for the hotel. Which he did willingly, of course. I don't fool myself though, I know that his wife must have had plenty to say about it. What woman wouldn't? But I pay him well for his sacrifices and his wife and child(ren?) get their cut of that.

My introduction to the world outside the missionary position had started back when the stump of my leg had still been bloody. I had needed cheering up and decided to spend a portion of the impending compensation on something other than solicitor's fees. I didn't have Jackson to run around for me back then, but I still managed to pick up a tasty piece of ass that was trying to break into modelling, full of hope and dieting pills (I was green then and talked to them). This model asked me if I wanted to cum on her face, for extra money of course. My thirst to put some kinks in my sex-life was born under that cheap neon while watching my spunk splash onto that fresh young face, her doe eyes blinking rapidly as the salty liquid ran across her eyeballs and into the tear ducts, sniffing it up into her lungs. In particular, the realisation that I was being taken deep within her, becoming part of her.

Jackson showed me up to the suite, where the latest girl was knelt with her head bowed, as if she was before an altar. She couldn't have been more than 19 or 20, with skin that you only get by eating healthily every day of your life.

As Jackson left us alone, she raised her head, her eyes defying me to judge her. I wondered if those eyes would be so haughty with my cum splashed across them.

The doctor's work was in the centre of her body, the skin on either side showing two red square patches where the surgical dressing had been recently removed. A vertical cut in her stomach, allowed to heal slightly to form a hymen.

She smelt clean, coal-tar soap and finishing college. I wasted no time, getting her to pull out my flaccid cock and suck me. Back when I was flinging spunk into women's eyes on a regular basis, I would have been hard before I'd even entered the hotel. But it took more than the thought of sex these days to get my hydraulics working. More even than the sight of a submissive girl kneeling in front me. She hesitated before pushing my fat wrinkled cock past her young lips, hiding behind her eyelids and the morphine as she did so, pretending ecstasy.

I gave her cheek a slap dragging her back from her hiding place. 'I've paid a lot of money for this.' I warned her. 'You stay in the room with me.'

She was obviously unaccustomed to blowjobs, her tongue kept drying out and she seemed incapable of keeping her teeth away from me. Worse, as I grew, so she was less willing to keep me in her mouth. Eventually she gave up altogether, simply trying to get me hard by lapping like a dog at a bone. Maybe ten years ago she could have gotten away with this, but now I was just going soft on her.

I took control of the situation, wrapping my fingers into her soft hair. 'Trust me.' I whispered, sliding my cock back into her mouth. 'Take a deep breath while you can.'

She tried to resist, but I told her again to trust me. I wasn't about to let her die now with her virgin hole still to explore. She gagged as my semi-rigid cock squashed into the back of her throat, but she stayed where she was, that was good. She knelt in silence before me while my cock slowly hardened, her airways blocked completely, eyes moist and pleading.

I think that it was Rita Hayworth, or it may have been Sam Fox, who said that she never worried too much about makeup, because people's eyes never got past her chest. Well with me it's my wallet, people never get past. They see that and they do anything for me. No matter how obnoxious I am to them they'll always prostitute a smile and most will prostitute their bodies. I bet this bright young thing wouldn't even let me kiss her cheek if it wasn't for my money, yet here she was passively kneeling before me while I choked her with my cock.

At the edges of her lipstick, her skin began to go blue and her body wobbled as her grip on consciousness slipped, but finally I was ready. I pulled out and waited as she gathered her composure, and not a little air. The doctor had left a lubricant to rub onto my cock, some sort of petroleum jelly, but with medical stuff in as well. I let her rub it into me. Her hands had tiny white scratches across them, no doubt from whatever volunteer work she did. There was also a large skin-coloured plaster on the back of her hand, hiding where the doctor had put in a line for later.

She rose up on her knees and slid a large cushion under them to bring the scar to exactly the right height. Jackson had thought of everything.

I took her chin between my thumb and forefinger. 'Stay with me, okay. This will soon be over.' She glanced nervously at the door adjoining the other room.

The doctor waiting next door had not been happy about what I'd asked him to do. The Hippocratic Oath and all that. But like everyone, he had his price and though he might bitch about it when not in my company, he accepted the money. His incompetence caused I think five girls before this one to have their wounds go gangrenous before I could consummate the deal. Frustrating and expensive, but under the circumstances I could live with that.

I ran my cock across the scar, transferring lubricant to the angry red skin. Even under that little pressure, the scar began to tear, sending a ropy snake of blood down over her stomach. The woman's body began to shake as the moment neared, but I didn't care, this was for me.

Her shoulders felt like lambswool as I took a hard grip; it was going to be a tight fit. Adjusting my artificial leg, I pushed forward. The scar disintegrated as my cock squashed into the tiny hole. She grunted as the skin split, but she didn't make another sound as I forced myself into the tight channel the doctor had made between her muscles. The channel wasn't long enough to take my whole length, but then it wasn't supposed to be. It guided my cock up behind the sternum until her heart muscles beat blood-rich heat against the tip, sending sweet vibrations down my cock to my balls. I wouldn't be able to finish my journey until I was about to cum.

I was past the point of no return now, under strict instructions from the doctor: if I pulled out completely it was over; once I had penetrated the delicate scar in her heart wall I was to call them. I gave the woman surrounding my cock a gentle slap to bring her back to the room once again. 'Fuck me with those muscles of yours, like I know they showed you to.'

She did as she was told tensing and relaxing those well-developed stomach muscles around me.

I began to fuck her back, her sweat-soaked hair brushing across my knuckles. She knelt rigidly on the cushion, as she tensed and relaxed her stomach muscles, staring straight ahead at my chest as it thrust back and forth. I closed my eyes and savoured the way she gripped my cock hard enough to make each thrust feel like I was deflowering her for the first time. There wasn't that sucking urgency that you get from a virgin cunt, more the physical grip of an arse. Although, unlike an arse, this channel had tight muscles all the way along.

I wanted to feel her naked breasts against me as I fucked her, so I reached down and relieved her of her brassiere. The nipples harden almost immediately as the coarse hairs on my stomach scratched against them. Grabbing her head, I held her close to me, running my other hand down her back to pull her in with each thrust. It was a much as I could do to stop myself thrusting in to the root each time.

She turned her head to breathe and I think she was crying, but as long as she did it quietly, I didn't care.

Holding her close I could really slam into her. I can loosen up most virgin holes with such abuse, but this one gripped me just as tight as when I'd first shoved myself in. Consequently it wasn't long before I was about to cum. I opened my eyes to see her face pale, the lips that had been so soft and warm around my cock, were now hard and blue. A pool of blood was collecting around the mud on my shoes and I was on my own once again, but it didn't matter. I took firm hold of her body and ripped my cock into that beating heart, her blood boiling around me, washing my cum deep into her.

That ragged heart beat was pumping my cum up behind her eyes, deep inside her brain. Into her very being. Most of it would be eventually excreted of course, but there would be some that would always be there. A part of me inside her head. For life.

I grabbed her head and lifted one of her eyelids, my cock still twitching my cum into her. The pupil was black, but it wasn't her eyes I wanted to see. I had hoped to perhaps see my cum wash across the inside of her eyes, but that didn't happen. I let her go and lit a cigar, reaching awkwardly, with the same hand, for the whisky Jackson had left for me. Her heartbeat was ragged around my cock and beads of sweat run down her grey skin as my cum spread through her. Next door the doctor waited.

When I finally called him, he didn't do a very good job of hiding his contempt. 'You definitely took the tablets I gave you to thin your semen?'

'A bit late to check now isn't it Doctor.' But yes, I had taken them.

They were still ministering to her after I'd had my shower next door, but all the sounds were positive, she'd probably pull through. Everyone was a winner, including the Ethiopians.

'Was this really worth the money?' I heard the nurse ask the girl.

Such little imagination.