Vice Versa Ch. 02byAbelard7©
Chapter 2. Redoubtable Rebecca.
On the Monday of my second week, Shelly called me over and told me that 'Mrs Goldberg" was coming later, she would be my last client of that morning.
She grinned. "You won't have to do it yourself today."
She went on to tell me about 'Mrs Rebecca Goldberg'. She was about fifty, hard to say because she had had various cosmetic surgery. She could afford it. Her husband had a chain of jewellers across the North of England. Gloria's job was to spend his money. One of the things she spent it on was getting fucked.
"If she likes you," Shelly concluded, "you can start a pension fund. But she is a real ball breaker, so don't upset her."
I was not introduced to Mrs Goldberg in the waiting room. I was told to go straight up to the room. I was nervous. I tapped on the door and was told to enter. She was not on the massage couch, she was standing in front of a mirror, nude, and weighing her large tits in her hands. She turned and pointed them at me.
"Brand new tits." She announced" What do you think?"
"Worth every penny. " I replied.
I walked over and took the nipples of the proffered breasts between my fingers, turning them like knobs on an old fashioned radio.
"Good morning tits," I said, I'm Rod, happy to make your acquaintance."
She roared with laughter. "We're going to get on." She announced.
"She nodded at my groin, "Get those off," she said, let's see what you've got."
She seemed to approve. She climbed onto the couch. Her skin was a light mahogany colour, from too much sun. Expensive Caribbean sun probably. Close-up, I could see the surgery scars, but from a few feet she could have passed for thirty-something.
"Oil." She commanded.
I gave her the standard massage to orgasm and leaned back, wiping my hands on a towel.
"Very good." She said. Now you can fuck me, all ways, let's see if your good at that too."
We went through the book before she cried enough. She then turned to kneel on the couch with her arse in the air.
"Suck me off," She ordered. "this way."
It was an awkward position for me, licking and sucking her hole was no problem, but I had to move her back on the couch and raise it to maximum height, so that my tongue would reach as far forward as her clit. Unfortunately, this meant that my nose was practically up her arse. Occupational hazard.
She came again, then ordered me to get up behind her and bugger her. The first time I had been asked to fuck a clients arse. I did so with enthusiasm, reaching round for her clit to bring her off a third time. She fell forward onto her belly as she came and I got down from the couch.
She rolled onto her back. "Up here," She indicated for me to sit astride her chest.
Wank onto my face." She ordered.
It was a good ejaculation and I managed to keep it directed to her face and open mouth. She was covered in the stuff.
It was over. She showered again, with me in attendance. Then I dried her and helped her dress. She took out her purse and counted out ten twenties.
"I'll be back" She concluded.
"Will you need my clothes and my motor-cycle?" I asked, cheekily.
She just frowned. Perhaps she'd never seen "The Terminator".
She did come back. In fact she came most weeks when I was working and when I was not, she had one of the other men. On her second visit to me, the treatment was exactly the same, culminating with the spunk facial.
It was the late shift. She had arrived late and it was well after seven when we came down. Mrs Goldberg was shown out, I changed into my street clothes. Shelly was in a hurry to get away and we left together.
"See you tomorrow." She said over her shoulder as she walked briskly to her car.
I looked at my watch, I had missed my bus. I had an hour to wait until the next one.
The dark tinted window of the Mercedes I was standing next to, rolled down. It was Mrs Goldberg.
"Time for a drink?" She enquired.
I nodded. She climbed from the car and we walked to the pub at the far side of the car park. I ordered the drinks.
Mrs Goldberg, "Call me Becky." slipped me a tenner to pay for them. The place was not crowded, we found a corner table. They were starting to prepare food and the smell of it was drifting into the bar. Becky leaned close and said;
"I always feel hungry after a good fucking, will you join me? My treat."
"I would love to," I replied, "but I have to catch a bus home."
"I'll run you home afterwards." She countered.
So we ordered food. The food was quite good, surprisingly good for a town pub in a not very upmarket area. After we had eaten, she seemed in no hurry to leave and we chatted .
"What have they told you about me," she asked, that I am spending my husband's hard earned fortune?" I was not sure how to respond. She continued;
"It's partly true, my husband is a brilliant jeweller. Or was, he's mostly retired now. But a lousy business man. I was twenty when I married him. He was thirty-nine.
It was an arranged marriage. We did not have children, he was sterile. Not impotent, but he fired only blanks. To begin with, I played the housewife, but he always struggled with the accounts. I turned out to be good at it. Gradually, I began to play a management role. It was my natural business skill which built the company to what it is today. So the money is as much mine as his. I still make the decisions, but the company mainly runs itself.
He's now seventy and not interested in sex. So I come to you to come. The 'spunk on my face' thing is my concession to subservience. I daren't show any kind of weakness in the business, sometimes it would be nice to let somebody else make the decisions. Could you handle that? Taking charge I mean. Nothing extreme mind."
I could handle that. She took me home, driving the big Merc fast and skilfully.
The next time I saw her, she simply said; "You're in charge."
I stripped and lay face down on the couch. "Oil." I commanded.
She gave me a good back rub, then I turned over to let her see the equipment. She did my front, concentrating on my prick and balls.
I got down from the couch and pushed her to her knees in front of me.
"Suck it." I ordered.
She leaned forward and slipped her lips all the way down to my scrotum, my tip down her throat. I cupped one bum cheek in my hand and squeezed gently.
She could really suck cock. It took all my willpower to stop myself from coating her back teeth with cream. I tried to think of more mundane things, "Think of England." Had been Karen's advice. So I did. Specifically, Bank of England.
She disengaged her greedy mouth.
"I want it." She said. I shook my head.
"Beg for it." I teased.
"I want your cock, please." She pleaded. "Fuck me now."
"Not until I'm ready. Get on the couch, on your back."
She did as she was bid, lifting her knees and parting them. She really did want it, her hole gleamed with her juice.
"Play with yourself. Wank for me." I ordered.
She obeyed. She had an unusual way of pleasuring herself. She pushed the thumb of her right hand into her cunt and the middle finger up her arsehole, then used the fingers of her left hand to rub her clit.
"All the way." I said. "Bring yourself off."
She rubbed, whimpering slightly, until her spasms took over and she gasped out her climax. I could not resist it, I lowered my mouth to her hole and plunged my tongue in deeply. She started to come again. Or was it the same one? I licked and sucked mercilessly until she could come no more.
Time for my pleasure. I rolled on the rubber and plunged deeply into her sopping hole. I banged away at her until I was close to climax again, then ordered her onto her knees and fucked her doggy style until, yet again I was perilously close to losing it. I ordered her onto her back again and rammed up her arse in a single thrust. I slammed into her as fast as I dared without coming. Her big artificial tits bounced in time to my thrusts, her cunt seemed to wink at me, opening and closing as I powered into her anus.
"Stick your fingers up your twat." I ordered.
She obliged, sticking two fingers of each hand up herself and at the same time, strumming her clit with the thumbs. She came yet again, yelling out loudly. When I could hold back no more, I pulled out, ripped off the condom and climbed on top of her, straddling her chest. I ordered her to wrap her tits around my shaft and pumped out jet after jet of the white stuff onto her throat. It ran down each side, forming a classic pearl necklace.
She showered and dressed in silence, but as she counted out the money, she said;
And she left.