If You Like Piña Coladas…

It was his own lovely lady.

Dave, in a state of near-shock, opened the door.

The woman's jaw dropped as she saw the face of her very first john. "Oh, shit," she exclaimed.

This time, Sandra was the one to turn on her heel and walk away. Except that she ran. Dave noticed that she was in stiletto heels and evening dress as she fled. The random thought that she was likely to trip – whether due to the heels or her speed – bounced in and out of his brain.

She didn't wait for the elevator, but instead took the stairs. Dave wanted to pursue her, but his brain was still processing this shocking revelation. He was too stunned to follow before she was gone. Besides, he realized later, he couldn't rightly chase her while clad only in a hotel bath robe.

* * * * *

Forty-five minutes later, he found himself on the phone with the sultry-voiced, pet name-calling madam who had moved him past his hooker reticence earlier. As before, she quickly gave him a sense of security, even caring.

"Intimate Friends, may I help you?" she answered in a throaty timbre.

"It's me, Dave – the guy from O'Malley's Inn, Room 206."

"Well, sugar plum," she drawled, "You indeed make a big first impression."

"What makes you say that?" he asked.

"Well, love bug, in just one brief encounter at your bedroom door, you've managed to run off my most promising prospect in years. What exactly did you say to her?"

"Nothing," Dave answered truthfully, "Not a word."

"Well, honey pie, you certainly dissuaded her from her new career. She called in crying, said she was quitting and hadn't even collected the agency fee. Normally, we'd have made her pay it anyway for the referral, but in this case, I've decided to waive it."

"Why?" he asked.

"Well, bunk buddy, she's such a sweet thing and all. She seems like she's been hurt pretty badly. I'd even say she seems haunted by something – not the scary or freakish kind of haunted, but the sad, romantic kind. I couldn't bring myself to come down hard on her."

"I need you to call her back for me," Dave said. "Convince her to come back to me."

"Why, precious one, what makes you think she'd do that?" she asked.

"I know her better than you do," he answered. "Tell her I forgive her, and I need her forgiveness."

"Forgive a perfect stranger?" Her voice sounded incredulous.

"Just do it – please. I'll make sure you get your $100 referral fee, even if I have to deliver it myself."

"Well, when you put it that way, puddin' pants, I guess a girl can't resist," she gushed in syrupy tones.

"Hopefully," Dave replied, "she won't."

* * * * *

It was after 11 PM and a storm was brewing outside when Dave heard a hesitant knock at the door. He offered up a quick but fervent prayer for wisdom.

Now fully dressed, he pulled his shirt tail from the waistband of his pants. "Gives a more relaxed look," he thought to himself.

A second cautious knock resounded as he walked toward the door. He peered through the spyhole to make sure of his guest's identity, then he flung open the door. "Come in – please," he requested.

"I – I'm not sure that I can," Sandra replied. He saw that her mascara was running.

"Why not?" asked Dave.

"I'm – I'm so embarrassed," she spluttered.

"So am I! Come in, and let's talk about it," he offered.

He thought for a moment that she was going to make another run for it. But slowly and haltingly, she overcame her resistance and walked into Dave's hotel room.

He realized when she walked past him that her clothes were soaking wet. "Has it started raining outside already?" he asked.

"Yes," she answered, laying her purse on the coffee table, "but I don't mind. I sort of like getting caught in the rain."

"I never knew. Are you the same girl I've known the last nine years?" Dave jested.

Sandra smiled, some of the tension leaving her face. She sat down on an upholstered chair, one that wouldn't be ruined by the dampness of her dress. "There may be more than you realize that you don't know about me," she answered.

"Like that you wanted to be a hooker?" Dave regretted the words as soon as they left his lips, especially so when he saw her wince. But it was the elephant in the room; they had to talk about it.

"Just like I never knew that you wanted to hire a hooker," she countered.

"Touché," he said. "You're right, of course."

"Besides, I'm not sure that I would have really followed through with it," she returned. "The agency said I was free to decline anything I wasn't comfortable with. I was sort of hoping my clients would be content with companionship. You know – somebody to talk to, someone to care about their problems."

"I'm not sure the guys answering the ad would expect anything less than full-on sex. Have you seen the scantily clad girl in the ad?" he asked.

"Honestly, no," she answered, "but yes, I knew there would be pressure for sex. I do at least have half a brain."

"And you would have given it to them? What about us?" Dave had to know.

"Let me ask you this: if a different girl had shown up at your door tonight, would you have had sex with her?"

Dave swallowed hard. He knew the truth. And he knew that she knew the truth. But he had trouble accepting that the same could have been true of Sandra. Nevertheless, he couldn't lie to her.

"Yes," he replied, "and I probably would have fucked her in the ass."

"And the truth for me, if you can handle it, is that three months without sex makes a girl crazy. But I didn't take the job for the sex, and I really don't know if I would have gone all the way. I took the job for only one reason: to spite you for what you said to me."

"When I called you a whore?"

"Exactly. It's been eating at me for the last three months. If you and your Mom were going to think it of me, and you were willing to call me that, I finally came to the conclusion that you could damn well deal with the guilt if I actually did it. You pushed me over the edge that night, and this is how far I've fallen."

"Sandra ... sweetheart," Dave answered lovingly, "I've got to cut through all this red tape. I felt I was pushed over the edge that night, too. But I don't blame you, at least not any longer. I realize now that you were trying to help, and I kept pushing you away. I've decided I need professional help to deal with Mom's death, and I'm going to make a call the first thing Monday."

Dave observed tears streaming down Sandra's face, his heart aching. He leaned forward, reaching out to brush the tears away.

"I'm sorry, Dave," she cried, "I'm truly so sorry. I saw you spiraling downward, and I didn't know what to do. I wanted so much to make it better, but I knew nothing could bring her back, and nothing could fill the hole that was left in your heart. At least, not without some time and some help. I didn't know how to stop – or even slow down – the slide. Baby, I'm willing to go with you for help. Hell, I probably even need help myself. After all, I'm so sad about my husband that I've turned into a whore."

"Not yet, you haven't," Dave contradicted her, "but I have three hundred bucks in cash to make that fantasy come true."

"Your fantasy, or mine?" she quipped.

"Who the hell knows, just keep it between us. That is, all except the $100 agency fee – I promised your madam that you'd get that to them. But just promise to keep me as your exclusive clientele."

She gazed into his eyes. "I promise," she said simply.

Dave returned her gaze. A lump formed in his throat as he saw it – the look. That look. The look of caring and concern – but not pity. Her eyes assured him of more than words ever could. He knew that she loved him no matter what.

Her body quivered as he watched her.

"You're shivering," he said. "Let's get you out of those wet clothes."

"Yes, let's," she returned, a glint of mischief in her eyes.

Dave stood in front of Sandra and kissed her gently on the lips. She leaned into him, her mouth opening to him, her tongue claiming his. Dave's right hand reached around her and began sliding the zipper of her dress downward.

He pulled the fabric forward, off her shoulders, and down to the floor. Sandra was clad only in satin bra and panties – and those stiletto heels.

Dave's awakening boner began to rise in his Levis.

However, he wasn't yet thinking solely with his penis. He decided it would be a good idea to go and get the bathrobe for her.

Returning quickly, he was pleased to see that she pouted when he handed her the robe. Then, smiling, she tossed it to the floor. Next, she unclasped her bra and tossed it to the couch. Her familiar but still so tantalizing breasts jutted out toward him, her nipples pebbling as he ogled them.

She then held her hand out toward him, rubbing her thumb against her forefinger in a demanding fashion. It was the universal sign for "pay up."

It took a moment, but Dave finally understood. He pulled the three hundred dollars from his jeans pocket and handed the bills to her. She counted them slowly and carefully, then went to the coffee table and deposited them in her purse.

She returned to Dave, clad only in silk panties and stiletto heels. She hooked an index finger in the waistband of her panties and slowly slid them down, turning away from him as she did so. Her luscious ass cheeks were revealed to his leering gaze. She slid the fabric over her stiletto heels and tossed the panties aside.

When she turned back toward him, he discovered another surprise. Gone was the auburn thatch of pubic hair that had always covered her muff. Her vaginal mound was completely bald. Intrigued, he reached forward and traced his fingers across her smooth mons veneris. "I like the feel of Brazilian," he smiled, "and the taste of champagne."

He turned momentarily, easing over to the coffee table and opening the bubbly. Still carrying the bottle, he took Sandra by the hand and sat her down on the couch. He knelt in front of her, spreading her legs to straddle his shoulders, while avoiding the spikes of her stiletto heels. He then drizzled some of the champagne onto her bald mound, letting it drip into the channels of her outer and inner labia. He then began licking her lips (yes, those lips) while again caressing her smooth, hairless mound.

Dave began to nibble on Sandra's clit. He remembered thinking earlier that he would likely go down on his virgin prostitute. He was doing exactly that.

She was so excited – it had been so long – that her inner moistness began to fairly ooze out of her snatch. Dave slid a couple of fingers inside her, pushing in and out while he suckled her clit. Before he knew it, he was fisting her – she was that loose, lost in the throes of passion.

Sandra started panting. "God, fuck me, Dave!" she shouted.

"But I want to make you cum, sweetie," he rejoined.

"I want your cock, Dave – now! Stick it in me, and you WILL make me cum, baby!"

Dave stood and stripped off his shirt and jeans. Sandra licked her lips as she watched him pull his boxer briefs off, too. She took his raging member into her mouth, laving it with love and enveloping it with her moist oral warmth. She brought it to full erection, then she stood and pushed her slippery crotch against Dave's upper leg.

He took the hint and hoisted her slim frame up on his torso. She accommodated by grasping his dick and positioning it against her warm, wet nether lips. Dave let gravity do its work and lowered her pussy onto his love tool. He felt euphoric as his cock head penetrated just inside her warmth. Moments later, with gravity still his friend, he slid fully inside.

The two were joined at the crotch and mouth – him standing, her suspended in mid-air, rocking on his cock with her legs splayed out, his left arm supporting her back while his right hand teased her nipples to erection.

He felt his balls surging, ready to spew his seed like a volcano inside her. "It's been too long, baby," he breathed raggedly, "I don't think I can hold off for long."

"Neither can I, my love," she answered, "Cum with me – now!"

Dave pumped faster inside his lovely lady, the slick friction bringing both of them to the brink of orgasm. "Now?" he asked.

"Now!" she affirmed.

And with that, both of them slipped over the edge. A much better edge than they had slipped over at their last encounter.

Dave's cock pulsated and spewed, his whole body convulsing as he held Sandra suspended in the air. For her part, she pulsated equally, milking his cum with the clenching of her pussy in a cataclysmic orgasm.

As Dave walked her over to the bed – still connected at the crotch with her still suspended in the air – he looked at the clock. At first, he thought there may have been a power outage, as the digital display showed 12:00. But the display was not flashing.

"Do you like making love at midnight?" he asked her.

"In the dunes of the cape," she replied, "or in a hotel room – anywhere, anytime with my dear sweet husband."

He lay down on the bed, cradling her on top of him. A short while later, his flaccid cock flopped out of her love channel, leaving a stream of cum dripping out of Sandra's pussy, down Dave's ass and onto the bed. They lay there together for another ten minutes, each grateful for their passionate reunion.

Sandra nuzzled her nose against his, then kissed him on the lips. "We haven't fucked like that since we were newlyweds," she giggled, her breasts pressing into his chest.

"Time to get into a new rut," he laughed. Sandra smiled at him, a gleam in her eye, the cogs in her brain clearly turning.

In the afterglow of their lovemaking, Dave suggested they retire to the couch for a celebration. He removed the bottles of rum and piña colada mix from the 7-Eleven bag and moved the barely-used bottle of champagne next to them. He strolled across the room, his limp prick flopping as he walked, and returned to the coffee table with the ice bucket and some glasses.

Sandra looked at him quizzically, lifting an eyebrow. "I like piña coladas," she said, "and I am into champagne."

"Ah – I never knew," he replied. They laughed for a moment, both still naked, and shared glasses of both beverages. When they were done, Sandra led Dave back to the bed. She had finished cogitating over Dave's innocent comment about getting into a new rut.

"Dave," she whispered huskily, placing her glass of piña colada remnants on the bedside table. "You said earlier that you probably would have fucked your prostitute in the ass. Would you – would you do that to me? Please? I mean, after all – I'm your prostitute."

Dave responded with actions rather than words. He sprang off the bed, grabbed the tube of KY Jelly from the 7-Eleven bag, and returned to the bed. Unscrewing the cap, he dabbed some lubricant on his middle finger. He smiled as he leaned into Sandra, kissing her forehead and nose. He then reached under the juncture of her legs and rubbed his slippery finger around the rim of her lovely puckered anus before slipping his digit inside her back door.

After loosening her up with his finger, he moved behind her and began gently working the head of his once-again-erect cock into her well-lubricated rear entrance. It took some effort and time, but it was worth it. Just as he'd imagined, once he got past her initial discomfort, Sandra began moaning with wanton pleasure.

He wiped the KY Jelly off his finger with a hand towel that was on the bedside table. For several minutes, he massaged her shoulders and found an unhurried rhythm of penile thrusts that seemed to please her. He moved his hands down her ribs and began massaging her hips, his cock still thrusting into her ass. Dave lost all track of time. He was lost in an erotic haze. Suddenly, he felt her squeeze his rod with her ass cheeks, nearly making him cum.

He began to thrust more precipitously. He reached around her in a firm embrace, trailing kisses down her back, then slid his right hand down to her vagina while kneading her left tit to a turgid peak. He found her clit with his right thumb and began rubbing it between his thumb and index finger.

Dave could feel Sandra's pussy walls begin to clench again. He kissed her shoulders and the back of her neck. "I want to curl your toes," he whispered.

"Then fuck my ass harder, and ram a few of your fingers into my pussy," she invited.

Dave accepted the invitation, testing her pussy with first two and then three fingers, as he thrust with his penis from behind. Her feminine crevice was so warm and loose and wet, he pushed a fourth finger in, while continuing to stroke her clit with his thumb. He was amazed that with the back of his index finger, he could feel the thrusting of his own dick through the thin membrane between Sandra's pussy and her ass.

"I want to feel you spurt your load in my ass," she grunted, "Just keep stroking my clit, and I'm sure I'll cum with you."

It was an invitation that Dave couldn't refuse. He began bucking and thrusting with his cock for all he was worth, all the while strumming Sandra's nub with his thumb. He could feel Sandra's slit begin to spasm around his fingers.

"I'm cumming!" she shrieked. "Give it to me, baby!"

A most incredible thing happened. The constriction in Sandra's cunt also constricted her ass around Dave's love wand, causing him to dump his spunk deep into her rear chamber.

It was an experience unlike any exhilaration that Dave had ever known. His penis spewed and throbbed for what seemed like two minutes. He was sure his balls were completely empty.

Dave cleared his throat before speaking. "I never knew – that you liked piña coladas, and getting fucked in the ass. I'm the love that you've looked for – cum with me, and escape."

THE END