A Second Chance Bk. 01 Ch. 03

Angela lived in a typical older suburban 3-bedroom, 2-bathroom brick home with the front door opening into the lounge room / living room with dining area and kitchen beyond that while the bedrooms and main bathroom were off to the right.

Her house was one of two that sat side-by-side at the end of a short cul-de-sac with vacant land surrounding the houses on three sides that had been set aside as a nature reserve.

"I had no intention of inviting you back here before things went pear-shaped at dinner," she said quietly as she unlocked the front door, "but here we are and ... well ... I hope you're not shocked."

Lots of people say something similar when they are inviting new friends into their home for the first time and what they're really trying to say is that the house is a mess because they're messy people ... but that wasn't what Angela was preparing me for at all.

When I stepped through the front door the first thing that struck me was just how tidy the house seemed to be. There was nothing out of place and it made my house look like the home of a hoarder ... but then I looked up at the walls.

The wall in front of me had a huge mural on it of a naked couple laying on their side with the woman in front and her partner entering her from behind. The look of sheer pleasure on the woman's face was incredibly arousing and whoever had painted the mural had even included little details such as the woman's nipples poking between the guy's fingers as he held her breasts and the way the shaft of his cock glistened with her juices.

On the opposite wall, on either side of the front windows, were two framed prints that almost extended from floor to ceiling. One showed a naked woman sitting back on her knees surrounded by naked men. She was holding two of the guys' cocks in her hands while she was looking up at a third guy as his cock rested on her outstretched tongue.

The second print was a side-on view of the same woman but this time she was with just one man, a big muscular black man who was standing up. She had her arms locked around his neck while her legs were wrapped around his hips as his hands supported the sweet curves of her arse.

Their lips were almost locked together but far enough apart to show that their tongues were touching. His cock was hidden by her body but there was no doubt in my mind that it was buried in her cunt ... so she was basically impaled on him.

On the side wall, behind the television, was a long, narrow, framed photograph of the same woman on her hands and knees being spit-roasted by two well-hung black guys. The guys were obviously deep in her holes and her nipples were reflecting her arousal.

The guys in the images didn't matter and on several of them you couldn't even see their heads because the images were all about the woman ... and the woman was Angela.

I stood rooted to the ground not quite believing what I was seeing but at the same time gobsmacked by the erotic beauty inherent in images of a stunning woman enjoying the ultimate in pleasure.

"Steve?" I suddenly realised that Angela was speaking to me. "Are you OK?"

"I'm fine Angela. I've just never seen anything like this before. The images are absolutely stunning and you look ... incredible!"

She smiled as I began to slowly turn and look at each wall again. "These are totally amazing and you look so ... I don't know ... alive and desirable."

A little voice in the back of my brain was also asking an interesting questions, why would she have these images on the wall of her living room and what was it about the house that was not quite right?

"You're starting to look a little puzzled." And she was beginning to sound a little unsure of herself.

I looked around the living room again, not at the images on the walls but at what had first caught my attention. I walked over to the entrance to the kitchen and a quick glance was all I needed.

"I think that you might be more than a successful graphic designer." I smiled as I said it and I made sure that she had an escape route if she didn't want to tell me what her other occupation was but to my surprise, she smiled and nodded.

"I'm a high-class escort too," she said quietly as she looked me straight in the eye, "but I'm not working tonight." So, she wasn't embarrassed by what she did but how did I feel about that?

I chuckled, "Earlier tonight I sat across the table from you and realised that you were a smart and sophisticated woman who was so far out of my league that I wouldn't even get to first base with you.

"Now I see these amazing images and you tell me that you're a high-class escort and that puts you even further out of my league. You're amazingly beautiful as well as smart and sophisticated and I'm just a burnt-out slob."

Angela took my hands in hers, "I am definitely not out of your league Steve, I'm the girl who knew want NRNR stood for remember?

"And I like you a lot and I thought that you were the sort of guy who could look beyond what I do and see the real me."

"Aw come on Angela, stop putting yourself down. I was just bare arsed dropout who can't hold down a real job anymore and you're stunningly beautiful as well as being incredibly smart.

She stood looking at me until I began to feel as though I should leave but before I could she took my hand led me out into the kitchen / dining area.

"Sit," she said in a tone that left no room for debate and so I sat down at the table while she went to the fridge and came back with two beers.

"First let me make it really clear to you, the only difference between a high-class escort and a girl who works the streets is the price she charges. That's it and all this talk of being 'high-class' is just to pander to my clients who think that they deserve more than a street walker.

"So forget that 'high-class' bullshit!

"Secondly, it should come as no surprise to you that I meet lots of guys and I've learned to 'read' them so I can stay safe and in control ... until I'm ready to not be in control," she grinned and I realised that I could see her nipples pressing against her dress.

"You are one of the nicest and most sincere guys I have met. You're shy and yet there is a strength in you that I can feel ... and that turns me on. Nearly all the guys who I see can't wait to get into my panties but you are different.

"I could tell that you were attracted to me but I flashed you several times when I was getting in and out of your car and you didn't even look until I really started flirting with you.

"And I could have slapped John when he started on about PTSD. I don't know how you got it but you must have been involved in something that would have had most guys like John pissing in their pants and yet he's so jealous of you that he has to try and take you down in front of Cathy and me.

"Steve, it's me who has to look up to you, not the way you think it is. And sure, I mix with some real high-flyers and some serious political figures because I'm being paid to do that but, most of the time I'm mixing with ordinary people and I love fucking ordinary guys because most of them treat me with far more respect than the big guys do.

"I'm not up there in the stratosphere Steve, I'm really multiple levels below you."

I sighed and reached across the table to hold her hands, "OK, so tell me who you really are ... and this is not an interrogation. This is just me wanting to know more about someone I really like."

Angela looked at me for a few moments and then she pulled her hands away and went to the fridge for more beer. Once the beers were on the table she sat down and looked at her hands and then looked at me.

Yeah, I know that I'm as thick as two planks ... but I'm not that dumb; I took her hands in mine.

"I'm lots of thing Steve," she began quietly, "I'm a whore who will fuck just about anyone anywhere so long as the price is right and that's something I've been doing since I was 17 ... yep I started underage because a brothel owner was too lazy to look at my IDs. Shit he didn't even ask me if I had any.

"I sometimes dance too ... that's a nice euphemism for being a stripper.

"I used to dance in clubs but I don't anymore. Instead a couple of friends and I, who sometimes work with me here, do a lot of private gigs. It's better money and it's more fun because we dance and then we get fucked ... over and over again by any and all of the guys who are there.

"We also do pleasure cruises up on Sydney Harbour now and again. You might have seen us on the news because, even though we're perfectly legal, we always seem to attract a news crew who want to take photos of topless girls making out with horny guys in the middle of Sydney Harbour."

For a moment I pictured Angela topless and tanned and rubbing her boobs on some guy's naked chest and my balls began to ache. She must have seen something cross my face because she smiled softly as she squeezed my hand "I like you holding my hand, it feels good and makes me feel like you care."

"It feels good for me too ... you know, I haven't even touched a woman in the last couple of years and sometimes I literally ache for that touch and when you let me take your hands in mine I began to remember how good something as simple as holding hands can be ... and I do care about you Angela"

I know that sounded corny but it was exactly what happened. If you haven't been touched by a woman in way too long you will know what I mean and how good something as simple as holding hands be.

She sighed and kept hold of my hand as she went on, "We also do big events, football grand finals, major car races like the Grand Prix and big horse racing carnivals. It's the perfect time for some businesses to provide extra services, like women, for their guests and we're always available to provide sex as a way to help change a politician's mind on how he should vote or what he should say in the party room.

"It's a lot of fun and I love fucking those guys and the money is really, really good and after hearing all of that you might wonder why I have a problem and what I'm doing trying to mix with your friends."

I smiled, "Yeah I was beginning to wonder about that. You have great job satisfaction, no pun intended, and you say you're making bucket loads of money so what is the problem?"

She wrinkled her nose at my poor attempt at humour, "My problem is that my social life is like yours, it sucks. I have no friends who are not connected with this business in some way and most of the people that I thought of as friends have all shown me that they are not.

"I have had three relationships in my life since I started in this business. When the first guy found out what I did he wanted to put on the streets because he was sure that was where the real money was and, when I wouldn't do as he wanted, he bashed me.

"I kicked him out, but he came crawling back and promised to never do it again. Poor innocent me, I was only 18 and I believed him when he told me he loved me, and I took him back.

"Things were OK for a while and then he asked me to fuck some of his mates for him because he said that he owed them favours. It was what I did so it seemed OK to me, and to be truthful, I would have fucked some of his mates even if he hadn't asked me.

At first there was just two ... then three ... then five and I did it because he loved me. But then I did another five and one of them let it slip that they were paying my boyfriend for the pleasure of fucking me and he didn't owe them anything, so I asked my boyfriend for a share of the money they paid to fuck me and the bastard bashed me again.

"One of the owners of the brothel I was working at came round and beat him up and told him that if he ever came near me again he, and the other owners of the brothel would kill him. My boyfriend believed them and I never saw him again.

"A few years later I tried again with a guy who really knew how to woo me. He'd seen me working a business function he was at so he knew what I did and it didn't seem to bother him. It didn't bother him that I might not be there every night for him because I was working and he was really nice to me so I fell hard for him.

"He even managed to hide the fact that he was a major drug user and supplier until the cops came calling one day to arrest him. While he was in custody I discovered that he had managed to get the access codes to one of my bank accounts and had ripped thousands of dollars out of the account.

"When I discovered that I gathered up all his stuff and went and dumped it at the front door of the police station where he was being held. At least he took the hint and didn't bother to try and come crawling back.

"I used to be hopeless at keeping track of my money and that's why I hadn't missed it when he took it out of my account. It's also why I now take a lot more care with my finances than I did before.

"Number three was a regular client I had been seeing every week for years and we drifted into a boyfriend / girlfriend relationship and then into a live-in relationship. He had some sort of import / export business that was having problems so I was a sucker and loaned him money.

"I even agreed to let him give me to some of the execs from his upstream suppliers and downstream clients so he could save money on the stuff he bought and get paid a better price by the buyers who bought stuff from him for their big-name stores.

"He made all sorts of promises and even said that he would make me a partner in his business, but it was all bullshit and he finally ran off to Europe and I was glad to see the back of him even though I knew that I was never going to get my money back.

"In between those three, and after the last one left there were plenty of one-night stands, fuck buddies and wild weekends where guys paid me with their bodies but no one serious."

Angela got up and walked over to the full-length glass doors that lead to a patio area at the back of the house. She stood there looking out into the darkness for a minute or two and I couldn't help but admire the way her dress fell from her hips and flowed over her cute ass.

Damn the curve of her ass and the way the dress fell only a little further down her thighs was making cock throb. I hadn't been this close to a beautiful woman like Angela in so long I had forgotten how hard it is to look and not touch.

And at the same time I was wondering how guys could badly treat a woman like her and how she managed to stay so warm and caring despite the treatment she had received.

"A lot of women in my industry," she said as she opened the door and let a cool breeze into the room, "end up lonely, angry old biddies with no one to hold or care about them. I don't want to grow old like that. I want a man who will love me for who I am and not see me as some meal ticket because of what I am.

"But where will I ever find one Steve? I've looked everywhere but none of the guys I've met would ever accept me if I told them what my occupation was."

She turned and stood facing me with her hands on her hips, "What about you Steve? Now that you know all about me what do you really think about me? And don't give me any of this smart sophisticated bullshit?"

I could have stayed seated and maybe the temptations that followed might not have been so hard to resist but I didn't. I got up and went to stand in front of her so I could look her in the eye.

"Angela, I think that you are a beautiful woman in every sense of the word who undoubtedly brings a lot of pleasure to the men who come to you. I have no trouble with what you do or how you do it and I do not understand those guys who mistreated you.

"And ... oh fuck it!" I've never been all that good with words so I just took her in my arms and kissed her. It had been years since I kissed a woman like that and all those years of pent up hunger and desire came out in that kiss.

I probably slobbered all over her face but she melted into my arms and her tongue met mine and suddenly I knew that all her loneliness was being poured into the way she was pressing against me and kissing me back.

I don't meant that we went wild with lust and started ripping each other's clothes off or humping against each other but there was real passion ... until I tried to pull away, "Oh shit ... I'm sorry ... I shouldn't have done that."

I almost escaped but somehow her hands slipped down and grabbed mine, "Why not?" she asked softly.

"Because ... because I don't want to send the wrong message and kissing you right then doesn't say much for me because it could have looked as though I was trying to take advantage of you.

"Angela I am not here for a one-night stand. If anything happens beyond this point it's because we want to explore the chances of something more."

I didn't add that I knew that wished I would leave because she had found my attempts at kissing to be rather clumsy and inept but that was what I was thinking.

"You know what I think?" she almost whispered, "I think you should stop apologising for something that I was hoping you would do and start kissing me some more, and I might want to explore what is beyond just what's in your pants too."

"We're two lonely people Steve, I think that could be a great starting point for something more."

By the third or fourth kiss she had my shirt unbuttoned and was trying to drag it off me while our lips stayed glued together and I was still wondering what was acceptable for me to do. Angela must have realised that I needed some guidance so, while kissing her way down my chest, she gave me instructions.

"Steve, don't be shy. I want you and that iron bar in your pants that keeps pressing against me tells me that you want me too so why are you holding back?"

"It's been a while, I don't know ..." I didn't know a lot of things. Would I be good enough as a lover? Would I do something that she didn't like or want me to do? Did she like the way I kissed her?

"Babe," she said softly as she looked into my eyes, "we're adults doing adult things and I'm sure that there is nothing you would do to me that I won't like so ... unzip my dress."

She turned and I fumbled with the zipper until I got it to work and her dress landed around her ankles. She kicked it away as I pulled her back against me and my hands went to her breasts and gently squeezed them and teased her nipples through the fabric of her bra.

Her soft sigh became louder as the fingers of my right hand slipped down over her belly and began to press and rub against her pussy through her soft panties.

I felt some dampness and dared to go further. Soft kisses on her neck brought another sigh that turned into a soft moan as my fingers went inside the waistband of her panties and found her clit. A quick dip between her pussy lips to bring some of that dampness back to her clit and she was gasping as I began working on it.

"Oh god," she gasped as she began to try to bend over. Her gasps changed to something between a laugh and a moan as I piled even more pleasure onto her clit. I began to feel it grow under my teasing fingers and then she was shaking and groaning ... I was obviously doing something that she liked.

She pushed hard against my fingers and then tried to pull away only to push even harder as the pleasure she craved began to wane. And then with a gasping, sobbing cry she was orgasming right there in my arms. She twisted and turned, she threw her head back and only just missed hitting me in the face, 'Oh FUUUUUCCKKKKKKK ... OHAAAAAAAGGGGGGHHHHHHH ... OH SHIT, OH SHIT, OH FUCKFUCKFUCK ..."

For a moment I slipped my fingers down between her lips and could feel her juices pouring over my fingers. Yes, I doubted myself so much that there had been a tiny thought that maybe she was faking it but the evidence was all over my fingers.

"Enough ... oh god ... ENOUGH," she pleaded as she dragged my hand out of her panties and twisted around to face me. She pulled my head down and her tongue was deep in my mouth before our lips touched and as the wild kiss went on she began to grind her hips against mine.