30 Days or Bust: Day 07byl8bloom©
All characters in this story are age 18 or older.
Life as a sex worker, even a very well-paid one, is less than Joe Average might think. Fucking women, day in, day out, might seem like a fun way to earn a living.
The truth is it has its drawbacks. Ever kiss someone with bad breath? Have sex with someone when they're too drunk to fully realize what's happening? Welcome to the party.
Then there are the ones whom you just don't like – people who are callous, snobby, rude, or whatever. I get paid to make their sexual fantasies come true, and for the right price, I do it. There are some wealthy regulars. They're lonely for a reason.
Everyone says it's easier for women to fake passion, and that's true. A little lube and you're all set. Not so for me. And it's harder to get hard when you've pretty much seen it all. Sex is the epitome of pleasure for most people. It can still get repetitive.
I mulled these thoughts and still had to admit, this job was different. Lisa was different.
I like her. It's hard for me to find a habit she has that disgusts me or turns me off. She's clean and doesn't exterminate her skin in a gaseous cloud of perfume. She's classy, but not gaudy. And dear lord, most of all, she has a mind.
It all seems tied together with her. I don't quite get why she has this thing for trees, but the passion she has for her work, and the careful way she goes about it, makes an impression on me.
There is something about why she wants to do this thing – to lactate – that makes her different from the average client. Most women, I take them out to dinner, we go back to their house, we fuck. Or I'm a stud on their arm at a big corporate party, or something. Despite my company's reputation, I haven't really come across much that is unique. Basically, most clients want to feel pampered and get laid.
But Lisa – Lisa. My job this time actually makes me hard. My job is to find her every day, wherever she is, walk up to her and suck her tits. Jesus. One erection after another, gone to waste at the hand of man.
Take today, for example. I knew she was at a fancy luncheon. All I had to do was park myself discreetly at the end of the bar and wait until she went to the ladies' room.
The hotel has a contract with Wish; trust me, such a thing is not uncommon. They've seen me follow a lady in there before and they all know – or think they know – what I'm doing in there.
I leaned against the marble vanity, listening to her tinkle and flush. She seemed only a little surprised to see me.
While she washed her hands, I stood behind her and unbuttoned her blouse, watching in the mirror as her face flushed and her brassiere came into view. I kept my face impassive and handed her a towel.
Before she was quite done drying her hands, I had her up on the sink and my lips on her skin. It was a minor violation to lay a soft kiss, just below her collarbone. I'm not supposed to be making love to her, just milking her.
This was easy to forget. She parted her knees for me to step in closer and I finished unbuttoning her blouse.
Today's bra was a scrolling emerald green with stretchy, seamless cups. Her soft breasts seemed to look up at me, nipples beseeching my attention like a child begging for one more good-night story.
My own cheeks were hot as I laid my mouth to her peak, saturating the cup of her bra all the way to her tender skin. I moved my head back for a moment to admire the round wet spot. Soon, with any luck, this would be her milk, and I would be drinking.
Lisa's eyes were closed and her head was thrown back, her legs even wider apart. It would have been more than nice to put my hand on her crotch and feel her arousal. Countless women I had laid in this very spot, all of them moaning and enjoying the illicit thrill of a hundred people just outside the door. I barely restrained myself from thrusting my hardness against this woman, the one that I wanted and simply could not have.
Her hands gripped my shoulders as I lifted that sweet breast from its cradle. I breathed, hot and damp, onto her nipple and she shifted forward with a whimper.
I devoured her then, sucking her almost violently, squeezing and massaging her other breast. Lightly at first, then with increasing ferocity, I pinched her nipple as she squirmed in my arms.
Her heat was obvious. I very nearly lost it when she sank her hands into my hair and pulled my head closer. My mouth made a sucking noise as I dragged it from one breast to the other. Lisa whined again and twisted her body.
Which of us ached more for orgasm, I don't know. But it was at that moment that I decided to go shopping for the good doctor. I'm going to choose something my size, and see if she likes it.
I lifted my head away from her body.
"Put your hand between your legs," I ordered.
She did so. "Mark – " Her voice cracked as she said my name.
"Take yourself, Lisa. Come for me."
Her cheeks turned even redder as she unzipped her dress pants and gave herself a hand. Her body vibrated as I returned to work, sucking and lightly biting at her delicate skin.
I gripped her waist, sucking her breasts in faster succession, squeezing them in my hands. She trembled.
I pulled away and her eyes opened. While she was looking in my eyes, I pinched both nipples simultaneously. The shock of it did the trick.
"Tchagh!" flew from her mouth. Her body bucked like a wild thing. I could almost feel myself inside her, feel those vaginal muscles wrenching against my aching cock.
"Lisa," I groaned.
She collapsed, shaking like a sprinter after running a tough heat. I let her forehead rest on my shoulder while she recovered.
Very carefully, I touched her shoulders. My hands slid down a little ways. She responded by rubbing her cheek against my shirt. I wanted so much to embrace her then, to kiss her neck, her face, her ears, and most especially that wise mouth of hers.
But I pulled away, helped her get dressed, and sent her back to lunch.