Freebie Ch. 04

During the evenings dancing, we took time out several times, where he'd drink champagne, but after just the one glass, I reverted to a non-alcoholic orange drink. I guess it was around eleven-thirty when the mood of the music began to incline to the romantic, and they also dropped the light level. It was with this change, that it became evident; Alan was beginning to think about what was still to come when the dance had ended.

This as you can guess was demonstrated by his cock making itself known as Alan pulled himself close to me during the dancing. The first time I realised, I guess it must have shown on my face, because he immediately slackened his hold, and as a mild blush came to his cheeks, he whispered in my ear,

"I'm sorry my dear. It has a will of its own."

I found this so charming, as he'd been holding me tightly to his body all evening, and it wasn't as though he'd suddenly pushed his cock up against me in a base or threatening manner. So as I said,

"I understand. But please don't relax your hold; I need your strong guidance."

The smile that appeared on his face was as if I'd given him the moon, and he resumed his grip, pulling my body back into contact with his cock.

The rest of the dances were almost like actual sex! Several times, I saw his eyes glaze over, and I was almost sure it was because he was actually cuming in his pants. But it wasn't just him who couldn't control his emotions, on at least three occasions, my arousal got the upper hand, and by the time we arrived at the last waltz, I was praying the juices I could feel at the tops of my legs wouldn't make themselves known to other dancers.

His comments about our evening as we made our way up in the lift, and along the corridors towards his room, had now moved from the impeccable behaviour standard, to the, can't wait to fuck you variety.

I guess that's not really fair, his language was always that of a gentleman, but the subject of his conversation was now directed to the actual point of the evening. He told me how he'd cum whilst dancing, and how he wanted to cum in every possible way with me. I for my part tried to banter on equal terms, and didn't let any of his sexual suggestions faze me. As we arrived at his room his first pressing engagement was the bathroom, and whilst he was busy, I re-opened the door and hung the 'Do Not Disturb' sign on the outside.

Then as we proceeded to the bed, he lay me down and took the greatest of pleasure in slowly peeling my clothes off until I was completely naked. Then he must have spent a good ten or more minutes kissing, stroking, licking and generally fondling just about every square inch of my flesh, finishing up with his face buried deep into my crotch. My arousal was simmering just below boiling point as we'd left the dance floor, and his wonderful attention since we arrived in his room created several minor eruptions. But his tongue in my pussy, bottom and that whole area, had me bucking and heaving, and almost at the point of begging him to fuck me.

But before I actually reached that humiliating situation, he stepped down from the bed, and began to strip himself. As his boxer shorts left his waist, I could now see why his cock had made itself so apparent during the dancing. Not only was it hard, but big. Not I hasten to add a rival for Olaf, but fatter and every bit as long a Peter's magnificent specimen. Once naked, he climbed up alongside me, and as he lay himself on his back, he said,

"Come-on then, let's see you earn your money."

This was definitely an out of character remark for him, and at first I took it as some kind of slur. But then it came to me, that this man had treated me to all of the finest things money could buy all evening, and he was right, it was now my turn to show him I was worth two thousand pounds of his money. I got up onto my hands and knees along side him on the bed, and asked,

"Do you want me to take you in my mouth first, or shall I just mount you?"

"I think you can just slip that little cunt onto my cock, it won't take long for my first load."

I lifted my leg over his torso, and put the head of his cock against my wet slippery valley. Knowing the size of his cock, I'd intended to lower myself down slowly, but my pussy had other ideas. As soon as I felt his bell-end resting against the flesh of my slit, my hips lunged forwards. It wasn't so much his cock slipping up my pussy; more a case of my pussy stretching itself down and around his cock. It took me by surprise, and I could tell by the look on his face, he was also taken aback.

Unthinkingly, I paraphrased his remark from earlier,

"I'm sorry. It has a will of its own."

A wry smile appeared on his face, as he pushed his cock hard up, making crotch to groin contact. I fucked him slow and purposely, using all of the length of his cock, but as he'd said, it was only five or so minutes before he began to jerk his cum up into my pussy. My pussy, of course, returned the compliment, by going into a minor convulsion.

This orgasm was a full contraction and fairly hefty gusher, but not one that knocked out my consciousness. But even though he'd finished his cum strokes, and I was conscious of my crotch display, I was unable to cut my performance short. So by the time I was able to lift myself from above him, his lower belly was covered in my sticky juices. Now I guess in some of the other sexual events that had taken place in this last month or so, this kind of sticky excess must have covered my sexual partner before, but then as I had either been in a semi-conscious state, or just because I'd felt like I was the one being used, I'd never before felt guilty for causing such a mess. But now with this man who I still considered to be a refined gentleman, I felt so guilty, and I began to blurt out apologies.

He just smoothed over the whole thing, by turning me over on my back, ignoring the sticky mess, and just began to kiss and caress me. Within minutes, we were making love again; for that is what it felt like, not just lustful sex. And he continued in this way for at least two hours, I think he actually climax seven times! How a man of his age had the stamina, to enable him to keep his erection for so long, I can only assume must be due to some kind of drugs. But never mind the length of time he held his errection, where on earth did he summon up all that spunk!

We slept the night together in each others arms, and when I awoke in the morning, he was gone. But there on the little table beside the bed were two tall champagne glasses. One was empty, but the other had a single red rose in it. To one side was a bucket with a bottle of champagne sitting in the ice, the wires already broken, and cork ready to pop. Then set up in front of the glass with the rose was an envelope. I reached across and took out the note from inside.

My Dearest Mary,

Thank you for a wonderful evening; I can't remember when I last enjoyed myself as much as I did last night. I hope you enjoy the champagne. The bill for the room, complete with breakfast is already settled. The breakfast can be taken either in the room, or in the breakfast lounge downstairs. When you leave, just ask at reception, I have settled the fare for the taxi. I sincerely hope we can meet again some time in the near future.

Bye, and fondest wishes Alan.

So after I'd had my shower and sorted myself out, I phoned for the breakfast to be brought to the room, and sat there sipping champagne, waiting for it to arrive. Everything was as he'd said, and I arrived home around ten in the morning. Gerry was still in bed, and I decided to slip in alongside him. As he felt me getting into bed, he turned over, and slipped his arm around me. Within minutes, his leg was lifting over mine, and I was opening my legs wide for him to mount me. I know it sounds wicked, but although this was something he did regularly, I'm sure neither of us actually got as much pleasure from sex alone together, as we did if it is given the added danger or spice provided by another person being involved with us. But that said, he rolled off after he'd spent his ardour, and I slipped out to the bathroom to clean myself before once again slipping in alongside him.

We were both awaken by the telephone, and as it is on Gerry's side of the bed, he answered it,

"Yeh. Who is it?"

There was a pause while whom ever it was spoke, and then Gerry said excitedly,

"No bloody Shit. That's great."

Another pause, then.

"Too bloody right. She must have really rung his bell. Yep, I'll let her know."

Then as he put the phone down,

"My god Mary, what did you get up to with that bloke last night?"

My heart dropped, I didn't need this kind of inquisition, especially after he'd agreed this was what he wanted me to do. I snapped out in an angry voice,

"That's it! I've had it with you."

"Hey babe, what's wrong? I wasn't trying to be nasty. Come on its all cool. In fact it's more than cool. I was just trying to tell you how good you must have been. That guy paid an extra five hundred quid, and it wasn't because Peter asked him. He just said you deserved the extra. And he wants to see you again."

While Gerry was speaking I calmed down, as I realised it wasn't his usual recriminations, and blaming me for being a slut, but he was genuinely pleased with what I'd done. Even if it was only because I'd earned even more money than he'd expected.

"That's ok then. But I don't want any snide comments."

"Hey love, come on."

He wrapped his arms around me, and in between kissing and cuddling me, he continued,

"I'm cool with what you're doing. Just so long as you're ok with it?"

"I guess so."

Then thinking about the sum of money he'd just mentioned, I added,

"That man was ever so nice last night; he behaved like a real gentleman all evening."

Gerry lent back so he could look into my face a see my expression,

"What? He didn't even fuck you?"

"No. I don't mean that. I mean all evening; he behaved as if we were on a date. Yes when we got up to his room, we made love. But he wasn't aggressive or nasty with it."

"Look babe, I know you don't like some words. But what he did wasn't making love; he fucked you. And you fucked him, but only for the money. Don't get any romantic ideas about it."

"Well ok, he fucked me. But I still felt he did it with feeling, as though it meant something to him."

"It must have, he paid enough for it."

Then he continued,

"Will you meet him again?"

"I hadn't thought about it."

"Well you ought to; Peter says he wants another bite of the apple."

"We said I'd only do a couple of jobs, just to make enough to finance this dance competition."

"So if you see him again, that will be two jobs."

"But Peter said he had another man who wanted to go out with me. I don't want to agree to one man, and then find out I still have another one arranged."

"Do you want me to ring Peter and see what the score is?"

"I guess so."

So while I went to the bathroom Gerry phoned Peter, and when I returned, he informed me, Peter had already arranged for me to spend the whole of next weekend with a Mr Francis. Again, Peter would supply suitable clothing for me. But this time I would be escorting this Mr Francis as his daughter, at some high-class social event. On hearing this, it gave me some cause for concern, not on the sexual front, but more my lack of social graces. After all, although I hadn't liked Gerry sisters remark whilst out on her hen night, she was in essence right; I had been brought-up on a council-house estate.

I actually rang Peter back, and pointed out my misgivings, but he assured me, in his opinion, I'd be able to pull it off without any problems. So Friday night arrived, and a black Rolls Royce pulled up in front of our house. I didn't wait for the driver to walk up to our door, but as soon as I'd spotted the car through the window, I'd grabbed my weekend bag, put on my coat, and opened the front door, just as he was half way up our garden path.

"Mrs Kendal?"

"Yes."

"Let me take your bag. Follow me."

In the car was a man, again I'm guessing, but I'd think around forty-five years old. Dressed in formal evening wear, and looking very hansom. As I stepped in and sat alongside him he said,

"My name is David, but I'd like you to just call me daddy. Not dad or pop, just daddy. And as everyone will eventually see you on TV, I will need to introduce you as Mary. But most of the time I'll call you by the pet name I have for you; Lou."

"Yes daddy."

"That's good. Now as to your behaviour. I'd like you to appear innocent, and if there are any comments or jokes of a riskay nature, do not laugh or react in any way, let them go over your head, as if you don't understand them."

"Yes daddy."

He smiled, and said,

"Ok, now give me a kiss."

"What kind? A daddy kiss, or one to wet your appetite?"

"Well just this once, I'll try one of each, the daddy one first."

I first gave him a simple peck on the cheek, and then sat back. Then after a few seconds pause I brought my head up towards his, with it held on a slight angle. As our mouths came into contact, I let my tongue penetrate through my own lips, and then on into his mouth. He responded with equal vigour, and our tongues intermingled for a minute or more. I'm not sure about the affect I had on his state of arousal, but I know for my part, it ignited the kindling in my tummy, and I wouldn't have needed any persuading to have taken the whole thing to the next level.

But as it was, he took a deep breath after the kiss, and said,

"Wow! Yes well! I don't think you'd better let anyone see you giving me a kiss like that."

Then we settled down and he explained a few more things about how I was to behave during the weekend. Not once was there any mention of where, when or whom I'd be expected to have sex with. And to my amazement, the whole weekend was just as he had described, I played the part of his daughter, at a very big country house, and we two were just one couple out of at least ten invited guests. The food was excellent, and company was pleasant, if somewhat upper-crust and full of their own importance. And I was returned to my home at around nine on Sunday evening. Daddy said goodnight, and thanked me for a pleasant weekend, and off he went.

Gerry was surprised to see me home so early, and when he asked,

"Well how was it?"

I replied,

"I'm not sure."

"Why what went wrong?"

"I don't know. Nothing happened as far as I know that could have upset him."

"But what?"

"Well, we didn't have sex. All I did was pretend to be his daughter."

"What he didn't even touch you?"

"No. Not unless you class holding my hand, or me sitting on his knee a couple of times."

"Did he say anything about not paying you when he dropped you off?"

"No, he just thanked me for a pleasant weekend."

"That don't sound good, I can't think he'll pay two grand for just a pleasant weekend. Why didn't you ask if he wanted you to fuck on the way home in the car?"

"I'm not sure. I think I'd been playing the part of the innocent daughter so long, I actually felt like it was my dad in the car with me."

"That's no good; I'll bet he was waiting for you to give him the nod. Some blokes are like that. A bit shy."

"I don't think he was shy. Maybe he just didn't like me. I'll ring Peter and ask him to find out if I screwed-up."

So off I went, but Peter's phone went onto answer machine,

"Hi. It's Mary. I've just got home from my weekend with Mr Francis. I hope everything's ok, but he didn't attempt to... you know, touch me or anything. I'm sorry if I didn't live up his expectation. Ring me back as soon as you can. Bye Mary."

It was nearly thirty minutes before Peter rang back, and as Gerry was so uptight about the thought of me not getting paid, he dashed to answer the phone. When he came into the kitchen where I was doing the washing-up, his face told me things were ok before he opened his mouth. He had a beaming smile from ear to ear.

"What?"

"How the bloody hell do you do it?"

"What d'you mean?"

"He's gone and matched that other bloke."

"What do you mean?"

"Paid two-and-a-half-grand! And he wants to take you out again."

"Oh my god! But we said I'd only do the two jobs."

"You have to be joking? One bloke doesn't even touch you, and even you said going out with the other one was like going on a date, except you got paid for it. And if they've paid that price once, I'll bet they'll both pay the same if not more next time. Do you realise, you'll have got the same amount for going out twice, as I earned by working forty hours a week for six months."

"But what if they both want to keep seeing me?"

"Well why not?"

"You wouldn't mind?"

"Well of course, I don't like the idea. But we have to be realistic. Four times, compared to me working like an idiot for six months. I'd have to be stupid to kick-up a fuss."

So with us both on a high, up we went to bed, and he made love to me. Next day I was back with Trav doing our dance practice, we were doing six hours a day, four days a week, and this next weekend was the next round of the competition. The evening of the competition Gerry and I were picked-up by Peter in a limo, and we then picked-up Trav on our way. All four of us shared a table, but Gerry very soon disappeared to the bar, leaving me with Trav and Peter. The dancing went well, and although we got into the two couple dance-off finale, this time we were the runners-up. But even though we didn't win, we were still on a high, as second was no minor achievement, and still carried a two hundred quid prise. Peter had just suggested getting us a bottle of champagne, when one arrived at our table, with a note attached. We were told it was courtesy of a gentleman on the other side of the dance floor.

The note read.

Mary my dear, you danced as always exquisitely, and I can only assume the reason you didn't win, was that judges had been bribed by the other couple. But the result apart, it did my heart the power of good seeing you once again gliding around the floor. My only regret is that I won't be the one who gets the pleasure of the last dance of the evening, or more importantly, the last sighs before you go to sleep.

I hope we can meet again soon, Alan.

The note was handed directly to me, but I could see both Trav and Peter were curious to know what it said. I passed it to Peter, letting him decide if he wanted Trav to know its contents. Peter read it, and then after folding it up, slipped it in his pocket without showing it to Trav. We all took a glass of champagne, and after I'd about drank my glass half way down, Trav said,

"Well Mary. How about we take to the floor again, but this time, just for the pleasure."

I didn't answer, but just rose to my feet, and soon we floated around, in a similar manner to how I'd danced with Alan the other night. And in a similar manner, it soon became obvious to me; Trav had his mind on other things than dancing. But where as Alan had attempted to release his hold to prevent me from noticing, Trav appeared to be trying to impress his arousal on me, and I guessed he was trying to get a reaction from me. I know I felt on that first night with Trav, a sense of debt for his guidance and help, but now, we had been practicing together for a few weeks, and we were both on equal footing regarding any benefits to be gained from this competition. So tonight, I didn't have that same feeling of debt, and in fact thought this display of his arousal was crude. So as the next dance began, I made my excuses, and returned towards the table.

As Peter saw us making our way back, he got to his feet, and intercepted us, offering to take over from Trav. I didn't mind this, and again we were off around the floor. Peter wasn't a bad dancer, but obviously not in the same league as Trav. But the main difference was his stance and hold. A confident male lead will always bring his partners body up to his own, and it is this contact of the hip area which gives the control to the male. It is also as I have already mentioned, how they indicate to the female they want to do more than just dance with her. But that aside, as Peter and I danced, although he made his way around the floor a lot better than my Gerry, it wasn't what I'd call real dancing. But the second dance with Peter was a slow smoochie number, it was of course, getting towards that time of night, and within seconds of the lights dimming, his hands had dropped and came to rest cupping the cheeks of my bottom. It was then he pulled me close up to himself, and now it was his errection I could feel pressing into my tummy.