Wilmington Woman's Club Ch. 08byParisWaterman©
Conrad Gentner considered himself a sort of libertine; a real lady's man. He was justifiably proud of his nine inch cock. But his many conquests were due more to the fact that the women in question were usually somewhat inebriated, or enticed to his place, not to see any etchings, but because he offered them the opportunity to try some choice blow or, cocaine.
Normally, he wouldn't have had anything to do with a hooker; but on this night, he picked one up unknowingly. Her name was Leah, and she looked pure, like the girl next door. And that is exactly what she portrayed in the one movie role she got whilst plying her new found trade on the west coast. Of course it was a porno flick, and she spent most of her time on her knees with a dick up her snatch and another in her mouth. Her fifteen minutes of fame earned her $350, but not another offer. Such is life in the sordid film lane.
They met in a cocktail lounge on the strip at Myrtle Beach. A good combo was playing some Afro-Cuban rhythms that had everyone moving to the beat.
He moved in on her a minute after spotting her sitting alone at the bar, a faint smile on her generous mouth, as she thanked the bartender for serving her. She was wearing a short, moss-green cocktail dress that showcased spectacular legs.
Sitting down next to her, he lit a cigarette and ordered a gin and tonic. He would consume but a third of the drink, as he was a firm believer that booze would affect his sexual prowess.
Leah had had him in her sights from the moment he walked in; waited patiently, like any good fisherman, for him to nibble at the bait she was using as a lure. It wasn't long before he bit, saying, "Hi, what kind of line are you in? I'm in the import business myself."
She gave him a safe, innocuous answer, shifted slightly on the bar stool, causing her dress to ride up even more, and the game was on.
Leah figured he was good for at least $500 for an hour's play, but a girl could never be too sure. Was he with vice, or a pervert? Time would tell...she hoped.
Ten minutes later, following the usual sitting at the bar conversation, Leah's eyes widened when he changed the subject to ask, "So, do you like...enjoy a little blow every once in a while?"
"Blow? She asked questioningly. But her interest was obvious to Gentner.
"Yeah, blow, coke, you know?"
Her weak disguise vanished into her small purse along with her lipstick. Impulsively, she asked, "Good stuff?"
"Good? Absolutely, maybe even 90% pure. You'll be sky high in no time at all."
"Oh, gee," she said, trying to sound like a little girl from a Minnesota dairy farm, which, once upon a time, was exactly what she had been. "I never have...but it sounds so exciting and all.... "
She allowed Conrad to spend a few more minutes convincing her; then they were strolling hand in hand into his hotel room high above the beach.
Three minutes later, Conrad was pouring some lines onto a mirror that lay flat on a coffee table. Leah dipped a finger into the pile, tasted it and smiled from ear to ear.
"Don't be shy," he said, urging her on. He took a crisp ten dollar bill from his pocket and rolled it up, then handed it to her.
Leah knelt down on one knee and snorted the line through the note. She felt it burn the side of her thin nostrils first, and then raised her eyebrows in surprise as she sensed the grains passing through to the back of her throat and almost instantly got that weird buzz of clarity.
She coughed, thinking, Fuck! That was a good hit!
Conrad snorted a line himself, and passed the bill back to her. She picked it up, and snorted another line down with her left nostril, stopping briefly half way to glance at him for some type of assurance to continue. He nodded, and Leah finished snorting the line.
Overwhelmed by the impact, she collapsed back on the sofa, somehow unable to do anything more coherent, let alone resume her bullshit-filled conversation that had stopped mid-sentence before they entered the condo.
She laid back, a cigarette in her hand, but not smoking it. She found herself staring at a print on the wall. Utrillo? she wondered.
Conrad idly watched her as he enjoyed the rush of the coke, and noting the ash was about to fall on the new carpet, offered her a large ashtray.
She crushed the cigarette out, and resumed staring at the work of the esteemed Frenchman's art. Gradually, Leah became aware of a tickling sensation on her left foot.
What the fuck? she thought, and looking down along her leg saw him holding her foot in his hands. "You have beautiful feet, you know," he remarked with a smile.
"Beautiful! I've always admired a good foot."
He placed his lips on her big toe. Leah shivered. But it wasn't from fear.
Emboldened, Conrad kissed each toe, one by one, beginning with the big toe and working his way down, slowly and with no apparent haste, to the smallest toe.
"You don't mind, do you?"
"No. It's nice," Leah slurred. It was true; after all, it wasn't all that often that a working girl got this type of treatment, and the blow was obviously of the highest quality. Her senses felt somehow magnified, and there was something very sensuous about those lips on such a sensitive part of her body.
With a confidence that Leah appreciated, he slowly took each toe into his lips, his tongue slithered in and around the nails, and then the whole of her big toe was inside his mouth.
She sighed, My toes are getting a blowjob; how nice, she thought.
"Are you all right?" Conrad asked, as was his custom when seducing a woman with cocaine. Leah gave vent to an involuntary shudder, and nodded. Somehow, despite the coke, she just couldn't articulate in words how she felt.
"I've got a condom, you know."
"A what?" she asked, not having heard him clearly.
"Oh, Daddy!" she suddenly screeched happily, coming alive with animation. "This is gonna be good!" That said, she peeled off her moss-green dress, and draped it over a chair. She was now nude, except for her high-heeled shoes.
"Isn't it?" he said, grinning at her as he pulled his zipper down, and extracted his rapidly swelling penis. "I'm sure that you'll like this too," he said, with a wide, toothy smile.
Leah, not all that surprised, gasped for effect, and said, "Man, you're bigger than God!"
He was even more elated, when she stared at his erection as if worshipping it. He sprinkled some coke on the head of his dick, and tendered it to her. Leah widened her mouth, and promptly devoured his sizable cockhead, swirling her tongue over him to glean the benefits of the coke.
"Play with my balls," he said huskily, and she did, taking care not to scratch or squeeze them. She knew a girl who had made that mistake, and paid dearly for it, getting her nose and jaw broken for the pain she'd wrought on her client. Leah would never make that same mistake.
Conrad extracted himself from between her lips, and said, "Want to see a trick?"
Relying on the old adage, 'the customer is always right', Leah replied, "Sure."
He produced an apple and a knife. "What you do," he told her, "you scoop out the middle of the apple, like so."
Leah watched him, eyes wide, focused on the knife, aware of the danger it represented. He worked on the apple, coring out its center.
She felt obligated to ask, "What's the purpose...I mean, of what you're doing?"
"What I'm doing here," he replied, "is making a hole in the apple here. Dead center, see?"
She was sitting Indian style on a chair at the kitchen table. Knees up, ankles crossed. Naked, her skin glistened with a faint patina of sweat. He held the cored apple out to her. "Put some dust in there," he told her.
"Gonna mess up some real good blow."
"No, we're giving it really good flavor."
"Oh." She poured some coke into the hole. He took a plastic straw from a glass on the counter. He stuck the straw into the apple, and handed it to her, and watched as she sniffed the coke through the straw. Leah's eyes were closed. Legs slightly parted.
"When you finish, I'll eat the apple."
"We should put some of this in my hole," she said, laughing delightedly at her wit.
"You want to?" he asked.
"Anything you want, man. This is some shit you got here. Where'd you get such good shit?"
"I know some people," he said off-handedly, and smiled as he posed for her benefit, legs apart, his fat, long schlong bobbing up and down in anticipation. Then he moved it toward her oval shaped mouth. She cupped his testicles with one hand, the base of his shaft with the other, and fed him down her gullet.
Leah, being a hooker, was skilled at performing deep throat. Conrad's length, while impressive -- one did not come across a whopper like his everyday – did not prove difficult for her to absorb.
Conrad was impressed with her ability, and grew more so when, after extracting his length from her throat, she began licking and gently sucking along the corona. The corona, to the uninitiated, is that part of the penis joining the head to the shaft itself; and is the most sensitive spot on a man's genitalia.
Her tongue moved over the corona's ridge to the underbelly, eliciting a long, satisfied groan from Conrad. "Christ on a crutch," he swore, "You know how to suck cock!"
"Mmmmm, thank you," Leah replied, and looking up at him, allowed her tongue to flicker out and lick her upper lip. When she heard him groan again, she smiled, and returned to fellating him.
His hands rested lightly on the top of her head, guiding her. Once again, Leah removed his appendage from her mouth as if to admire it. Then with a swipe of her lascivious tongue, she began laving the underside of his balls.
Moments later, with his balls resting on her wet tongue, she took them into her mouth one at a time, sucking softly, swirling her talented tongue around them until he was moaning with pleasure. Then with a soft pop, she relinquished the second testicle, and using an upward motion, licked to the very tip of his prick.
Leah paused for a moment, and reached toward the mirror where several lines of coke were laid out. Using the tip of her finger, she absorbed a small amount which she placed on the head of his dick.
Conrad felt the sensations first. Leah's turn came when she engulfed his member – well, the crown, at any rate.
Leah felt his cockhead swell. It was a sure sign he was about to come, and wanting to forestall it in order to heighten his orgasm; she placed her thumb at the base of his prick so as to block the tube through which he would spurt his load. At the same time, she sucked voraciously on the head of his prick, preventing his semen from escaping, but allowing him the pleasure of a reflex type orgasm.
She toyed with him for a few more delicious seconds, and then still sucking vigorously, she relented, and took her thumb from the base of his shaft. He came. A torrent of sperm leapt from his cock.
He would later swear that she made him come twice in succession. He didn't, but it certainly felt as if he had. The cocaine undoubtedly helped with the misconception, but Leah's skill as a cocksucker was the prime reason.
She had positioned herself so that the first rope of ejaculate struck her in the face, while the second and third splattered over her breasts. She shoved his schlong away from her so that the fourth and fifth eruptions of ejaculate, which of themselves had him amazed, landed on his belly.
Later, after consuming even more coke, he turned to her and, gently caressing her right breast, said, "You're a working girl, ain't you?"
Leah smiled. "What gave me away? I didn't ask for any money."
"Proficiency, baby, proficiency," he told her.
"My ability at sucking you off?" she asked knowingly.
"Among other things, yeah," he grinned at her. "Reason I'm saying this is I want to see you again. I don't want this to be a wham bam kinda thing, you know?"
"Well, I should tell you, I usually charge at least three hundred, but when the coke came out...well, a girl likes a good time, even a working girl, you know?"
"If you're wondering if there's more," he paused, "there is. I'm not a pusher; don't get any ideas along those lines. I do favors for people. They pay in different ways. Know what I mean?"
"Yeah," she said, and nodded as well.
"So leave me a number I can reach you at. You live here at the beach, right?"
Nodding, she said, "Do you know you end most sentences with a question?" and then giggled.
"Do I?" he said, and laughed at himself.
"Yeah," she said, and satisfied with his response, scribbled out a phone number at which he could reach her.