tagErotic CouplingsI am Just a Gigolo

I am Just a Gigolo

byTheChameleon©

Yeah, I'm just a Gigolo and proud of it. We all have talents, mine just happens to be sex and pleasing women. What can I say, except I am damn good at it. It is not very often a person can turn their passion into their career but for me it just worked out that way, you might even say it was inevitable. I was always sexual, always chasing girls from as far back as I can remember.

All that being said, it just happened, no plan, no thinking about it as a future vocation, nope, stumbled upon it by accident. I never pursued it, even to this day I do not advertise, merely word of mouth from satisfied customers wanting to share with their friends. Now I admit I get paid plenty and garner a lot of perks the normal person could never fathom, but being a kind man, I will also do some work pro bono so to speak. Not every woman can afford my services and occasionally I will entertain one of the lonely not so rich clients and if I can make their week, who am I to disappoint.

I learned at a young age to understand the needs of the fairer sex, studying them, realizing every beautiful sensual creature is different, yet the same. All they want is to feel desired, that they are beautiful sexual animals that even when denying their urges and fantasies, all it would take is pushing the right buttons.

Some are submissive, some are dominant, some just want to feel young again, some want to feel wanton, some want a secret side. The key is to watch, listen and learn without asking. Show them that they are worth the effort to learn and impress, surprising them. Chivalry is not a lost art, and most women would turn back the clock to destroy the women's lib movement if truth be known. That is where I come in, replacing the boring men in their lives, not taking them for granted.

Now I am not your standard image of a gigolo, I am not in my thirties; I am not 6'4", nor do I work out or have the proverbial six pack, instead I am your average fifties male, 5'10', and a slight paunch, not obese, but not slim, salt and pepper hair, decent looking with bluish gray eyes and a genuine smile and love of life.

It started just before my 25th birthday; I had already been working numerous typical male jobs when I met her. She was in her mid-forties, a voluptuous hair salon blond type. Not wanting to be who she really was, looking for that something extra to bring her back to life. I was out for Friday night drinks, cruising the bars looking for that young naïve notch, the one you take home, fuck and hopefully never see again. I know, I can read your mind, typical male chauvinist, but hey we were all young once, we all played the gender role games we were assigned, I am just upfront and honest about it.

Back to my story, she was rich, bored and needing to feel that spark, to feel the undeniable draw of lust, being the slut wife, if for no other reason than to get back at that bastard of a husband who spent too much time at work, too much time chasing his young secretary instead of trying to satisfy the so called one he loved at home. It was slow for a weekend night, not much happening and my hard phallus was definitely feeling the pent up frustrations of the week, even jerking off could not replace the need building inside me. She smiled, offered me a drink and feigning interest in this mature women seemed like a fun new venture for someone my age.

It was not long before the booze hit her, and I took the opportunity to dance with her, sliding my hands over the curves of a woman that had been used, and loved to play. She knew what she wanted, and I was along for the ride. Her full tits pressed against my chest, her pelvis grinding against mine as she laid her head on my shoulder. I stroked her hair with one hand, massaging her ass with the other. Tilting her head back, I gently bit her lip, working my tongue into her waiting eager mouth. When the song was over, we went back to the table in the corner where she sat on my lap, kissing my neck, guiding my hands to her heaving breasts, her nipples now trying to bust through the lace demi cut bra. This woman was dressed to the nines; money was definitely no object when it came to her pretty things.

The more we kissed, the more we groped, her hands now rubbing my erect member through my slacks, leaving an obvious wet spot. My hand slowly crept under her skirt, exploring her stockings, and French cut panties, already wet and thick pussy lips bulging through the thin material. I allowed two fingers to sneak under, parting her lubricated slit, opening up the petal like lips. She let a deep moan into my mouth and her cunt involuntarily convulsed with a grip on those two fingers unlike any young girl I had been with previously. I felt as if I could please any woman at the one point in time. She came instantly the slutty rich whore. As soon as she calmed down, she asked, well maybe ordered me to come with her, that she had a room around the corner.

Once in the room, she made it clear what the rules were, I was there tom please her, and she would make sure I was well looked after. I was shocked to say the least, offended and ready to leave when I thought to myself, girls are always making money off sex, and not just hookers. Hell dates are not cheap, and we guys were always supposed to pay back then, long before the days of going Dutch on dates.

I figure try it once, you know the old saying, in for a penny, in for a dollar.

She told me to get undressed slowly, and so in my clumsy Chippendale impression I took off my shirt, then unbuckled my belt, slacks and let them fall as she sat in the large chair watching.

Once my shorts dropped, that was the defining moment, all 7 1'2 inches of hard cock standing erect with a huge strand of pre-cum that literally reached the floor made her eyes almost pop out. She crawled over on her knees, never using her hands, just her mouth, starting near the floor, slowly using her tongue to scoop it all up, swallowing as she working her way to my throbbing meat. Christ, why had I ever bothered with young females I thought to myself. This was incredible, better than any fantasy to date.

By the time she reached the head, I had one hand around the shaft slowly stroking it, letting her see the foreskin cover and uncover her prized treat. I felt the power shift as her eyes gave away the neediness of an unfulfilled slutwife.

I reached down and grabbed a handful of bleached hair and pulled her face onto my cock, forcing into her mouth. All I hear was a thankful gurgle as she greedily swallowed everything I had to give.

The sexy bitch licked and lapped at my cock and balls, trying her best to get me to blow my wad. I pushed her back and told her to strip for me. She told me to fuck off, she was paying and I was working for her. I smiled at her and told her she had 5 seconds to start stripping or I was gone, and that she could go back to the bar and hope to find another young guy to fuck her if she could.

Apparently my bluffed worked because she got to her feet and slowly unbuttoned her blouse. Her blue lace bra was spilling her big tits out, and when she unhooked the clasps they jumped forward with just enough force to bounce two or three times. Her nipples were a light pink color, hard, thick, long and aching to be sucked and tugged. I told her to lift them one at a time and suck on them for me as I watched. She used both hands to lift one, biting the nipple, before switching to the other tit and repeating the action. I sat down, cock in hand and enjoyed the show. She then undid her skirt and let it drop, standing there in black stockings and matching blue panties to match her bra, her wet patch clearly visible with its dark stain in a v between her thighs. I ordered her to finger her plump cunt as I watched. Her digits disappeared behind the blue veil and eyes rolled back as she investigated her womanhood as a stranger watched on. Feeling more and more in control, I demanded she lick her juices off her fingers, before allowing me a taste. A guttural sound escaped her lips as she feasted on the nectar of the gods.

I rose from the chair, taking her by the hand and led her to the bed. With one hand I pushed her onto her back and knelt between her thighs. I slowly licked my way up her legs, kissing and stroking gently. I used the tip of my tongue to part her lips, tugging on them with my teeth, opening her up for the oral assault that was about to cum. I licked and sucked, prodding with my nose and chin, coating my face, yet deliberately ignoring her clitoris for the time being, making her wait, my terms.

Once coated, I crawled up, light butterfly kisses over her abdomen and finally to her heaving bosom. Suckling one nipple, then the other, biting, tugging, twisting as she tossed back and forth on the bed, her hands now in my head urging me on with her now gutter-like language, telling me to suck her big jugs, finger her wet cunt, to make momma happy.

I kissed her deeply; letting us share her wanton juice as I twisted her one nipple, finger her now gushing pussy.

I soon returned to the previous position, only this time my tongues target was that swollen little head poking out at me from its sheath. I circled her clit with my tongue, flicking it back and forth, making sure it was well lubricated, and then I inserted two fingers into her hot hole. I slowly fucked her with one finger, searching for her g-spot with the other. Her hips bucked violently letting me know I had found it, and it was not long before she came, screaming out some unintelligible curse words, encouraging me to keep doing what I was doing. The more I licked and sucked her clit, the more I finger fucked this lady the harder she came, and finally I had my first. She grabbed my head and pulled my face away, and as I fingered her, she erupted copious amounts of fluid, shooting at least a foot in the air. I had never heard of female ejaculation up to that point in my life, it was still uncommon, but soon one I was about to enjoy more often.

Once she calmed down, she knelt before me, using her hands and mouth, worked me over until I came deep into her throat. As she was cleaning up, she handed me five hundred dollars, asked me for my phone number, and to not make any plans for next weekend as she was sure I would be very busy.

Later that week, I received her call and calls from two of her filthy rich friends.

Thus, a Gigolo was born.

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