Hello and welcome to my readers. Thank you for your votes, PC's, e-mails and selecting my stories for your Favorites listings. It is certainly appreciated. The following is my entry in the Halloween Story Contest 2009. Enjoy. Be sure to read the multitude of stories entered in this contest. There are numerous fine authors represented here.
The elevator chimes, the door slides open and I emerge. A man and a woman are standing there. I smile at them and he smiles back. The woman, no doubt his wife, frowns and pulls him into the elevator. As the door closes I can feel his eyes on me. Marjorie chose this dress for me this evening. She wants her girls to look both sexy and sophisticated as she runs an upscale service.
The black silk emphasizes my full breasts and rounded buttocks. My shoulders are bare, my long hair cascading over them in auburn waves. The short hem on the dress emphasizes my shapely thighs and calves, the strappy stilettos on my feet complete the picture. I wear a minimum of makeup, giving me that well scrubbed innocent look.
I stride confidently down the thickly carpeted hall, looking for room 849. The Monticello is one of the older hotels in the city, but has retained it's air of elegance and comfort. I have not been here before, so I smiled at everyone as I strutted through the lobby, heels clicking on the marble, passing by the front desk and to the elevators as if I belonged there. I was not challenged.
I reach the room I'm seeking and knock. The latch clicks and the door swings open. My client appears to be in his early forties, tall and fair haired. He's wearing a blue terrycloth bathrobe with the hotel's wreath and crest embroidered on the pocket. His feet are bare.
I smile and say "Good evening, Mr. Burroughs. I'm Sandra, Premiere Escort Service."
He seems embarrassed as he invites me in. I see a wine bottle and two glasses on the table next to the couch. Good, he's a gentleman. It distresses me when I am treated poorly, although I smile and go along with it. It's all part of the job.
We sit next to each other. My dress rides up and he steals a look at my thighs. He pours a glass and offers it to me. I notice his hand quivers slightly; he's nervous. How cute.
We sip our wine and make small talk. He has already paid the fee and he has me for the night, so there is no hurry. I ask him why he's nervous. I already knew his answer, "I've never done this sort of thing before."
I slide closer and kiss him softly on the lips. He returns it with a sudden ardor born of renewed confidence. We kiss and hug and his arousal grows. I ease away and unzip my dress, exposing my breasts to his lustful gaze. I am proud of the way they jut out, firm and high, nipples like pink thumbs.
He nurses on them as a hungry baby. Men are so interesting. They hold a fascination for breasts. He is no exception. I moan appreciatively and pull him against their pillowed softness. He is so eager. It is exciting.
I untie his robe. He is naked underneath. For his age, his body is still lean and muscular, with the beginnings of love handles about his waist. His cock is already hard, long and thick, pre cum glistening on the velvet tip.
I stand and pull my dress off. I am naked before him. His eyes are alight looking avidly at my bare pussy, it's clit ring gleaming in the light of the bedside lamp. Taking his hand, I lead him to the bed. I push the robe from his shoulders and smile broadly, appreciating his beautiful masculinity.
I sit on the edge of the mattress and present one foot to him then the other; he removes my shoes, fumbling with the buckles in his eagerness. I lie back on the bed and spread my legs, inviting him in. Still standing, he grips my hips and pulls me to him, his rigid cock disappearing into my sopping pussy.
He fucks me hard in a frenzy of lust; the sensations are incredible and my body quivers as I whimper and moan. I feel so powerful when a man is brutally taking me, knowing he's out of his mind and I've filled him with desire.
I feel him reaching climax and press him there, I want him to last longer, much longer. He steps back in confusion and I go to my knees and elbows, presenting my dripping cunt. He climbs on the bed and enters me, driving me forward on the cover sheet. I grip the mattress as he pounds into me again. The room echoes to the sound of flesh slapping together and our cries of passion.
In no time I feel his body tense, he is close again. I turn, grab his arm and pull him onto the bed, taking him into my mouth and delaying his release once more. I let him fuck my mouth for a while, then straddle him and slide his cock inside me. I undulate, and then bounce on him, the sensations are overwhelming.
His eyes are wild. He needs release. I ride him hard, bringing him rapidly to climax; he moans and jets his seed deep inside me. He lies back breathing heavily. I roll off and wait for him to recover. His body is sweaty, his hair tousled, his cock growing limp. He is satisfied.
We snuggle and kiss, as the glow slowly fades. He is indeed handsome.
I ask for a glass of wine. He arises to get the bottle and my mandibles pierce his carotid arteries. His eyes widen in horror. He attempts to scream, but my venom causes instantaneous paralysis. His panic and agony spicily enhance the flavor of his liquefying flesh and I enjoy a delicious meal.
Having fed well, I fully reconstitute my integument and it hardens quickly. Moving onto the balcony, I lift my carapace and unfurl my wings. It feels good to stretch.
I spring from the railing and soar into the darkness toward the waxing moon.
Tomorrow I am Sandra, now I am the night.