Ashley's Prostitution Ventures #05

Deciding to up the ante, Ashley sucked one side of Davidson's scrotum into her mouth, feeling the testicle inside. She sucked gently, then harder, encouraged by a raspy, "Oh fuck yes!"

She switched to the other, then alternated back and forth. Her client gasped and moaned and shuddered. Ashley wondered how long she should continue, but a loose hair made its way to the back of her throat, and she pulled her lips away, turned to the side, and coughed.

"You okay?" the man asked, and she believed she detected real concern in his voice. A twinge deep inside unsettled her. She squeezed her thighs together, hoping to lessen her need.

"Yeah," she nodded after fishing out the offending hair with her fingers. "I take it you liked that?"

"Oh, yes," he nodded. "I've never had anyone suck my balls. It felt amazing."

Ashley decided not to tell him it was a first for her either. Instead, she grabbed his penis, tilted it toward his abdomen, and licked from base to tip like it was an ice cream cone. He sat back in the seat, grunted, and found her head with his hands. She repeated her action, not once, but more than a dozen times, doing her best to slurp audibly as she did so. Davidson's manhood twitched in her hands. She suspected he was close again, so she turned her head and kissed his inner thigh, allowing him to relax away from the brink. But she realized that whatever came next would most likely be the final act.

Pulling her client's penis down so it was angled straight toward her, Ashley slipped her lips over the head and did not stop until it nudged the back of her throat. The brunette relaxed and pushed forward. The tip popped into her throat, and the tricky part was done. She swallowed the rest in one motion, her nose coming to rest in Ken Davidson's dark, curly public hair. A musky scent made its way up her nostrils, different from Corey's clean smell but almost as enticing. She attempted to inhale it, remembered that the man's penis occupied her throat, and caught herself in time.

The eighteen-year-old repeated the process several more times, each smother than the one before, until she swallowed him without effort. For his part, Davidson grunted, moaned, squirmed, bucked his hips at her, alternately tightened and relaxed his hold on her hair, and mumbled words she could not make out.

He lasted longer than she thought he would, which gave her time to enjoy small whiffs of the heady, manly aroma each time her nose pushed into his thick bush. But when it ended, it did so with alarming swiftness. The man groaned, rocked his pelvis toward her, and ejaculated down her throat. Ashley wanted to pull back, especially since she needed air, but strong hands held her head in place. Five times more, his penis pulsed in her throat. The eighteen-year-old grew desperate, digging her fingers into the man's thighs, hoping her understood.

"Oh god," Davidson rasped, his grip slackening as he relaxed back into the seat.

Ashley ripped her head away, coughing into her arm, coating the skin with saliva and semen. And yet, even as she fought to regain her breath, her sodden panties clung to the fleshy folds of her needful sex. The young woman shuddered, then looked at Ken Davidson's still semi-erect penis. A trickle of semen oozed from the slit, and she lapped at it with her tongue. The flavor, which she had tasted only in passing when she coughed out some of it moments before, lingered on her tongue, musky like his scent but not at all unpleasant or sour. She sucked on the head gently, coaxing out a bit more.

Satisfied she had sucked him dry for the time being, Ashley slurped on his manhood, cleaning it. And she continued long past need, willing his half-hard penis to swell to full life again, sneaking peeks up at his face. But Davidson's eyes remained closed, his body limp. She might have thought he had fainted, but one of his hands stroked her hair, his only movement. She continued her ministrations.

Maybe a minute later, she realized something felt different. Davidson opened his eyes, and she met his gaze. He smiled at the same time his quickly hardening penis twitched in her mouth. Ashley moaned around it, giving full reign to her arousal, allowing it to lead her.

"I don't have enough money for more," he said, voice kind, gentle, grateful. "Plus, after that, I think it might kill me."

Ashley, slurping on his fully hard shaft, shook her head. She would need to explain her idea to him, make him see how it benefited them both if they had sex. She did not believe it would be hard to convince him. She pulled her lips free of his penis and knelt more upright.

"I promise it won't kill you, Mr. Davidson," she grinned, watching lust war with doubt in his eyes.

"Ken," he reminded her.

"I promise it won't kill you, Ken. And don't worry about the cost. It'll be on me."

"Not to argue with such a tempting offer, but why?"

"So you'll pass along my email to other men who might enjoy my, um, attention, and be similarly generous. Discreetly, of course. It's an anonymous email, but I still need to be careful."

"Of course, Ashley," the man nodded.

"You might want to take off your pants and put something down on the seat," she said, sliding off her panties, the chill air on the wet sex of her flesh raising goosebumps on her arms and legs. "We wouldn't want Mrs. Davidson noticing the smell of... well, me."

"Good idea," Ken Davidson nodded. "Although she rarely drives my car. But she might notice the pants."

"What about the time? This is going to take longer..."

"I don't always go straight home. Sometimes I stop at a bar that's on the way. She won't be waiting up anyway."

"Okay. I'll get your shoes and socks."

Ashley removed the man's loafers, then his socks. By the time she finished, his pants and boxers hung around his ankles. She pulled them off as well, folding the pants and draping them over the still upright middle seat.

"I take it you're going to stay in control?" the man asked as she climbed onto his lap and rubbed her shaven mons against his penis.

"I think that's best," the young woman shrugged, her hands taking his shaft and positioning it under her ready opening. But before she sunk onto it, she realized they were not properly equipped.

"Fuck, we need a condom," she groaned, slipping off his lap back to her knees. "I may have one in my purse. I don't use them with the virgin guys or my boyfriend, so if I have one, it'll be old."

"I just bought some," Ken said, and she thought she saw his face redden in the dim light.

"For the Mrs? Or for me?" Ashley asked, not sure whether she was amused or annoyed.

"For you. Or rather, for a hope. I thought you... I mean, you dressed... I got a different vibe from you tonight. When you asked me to stop so you could get a drink, I thought it best to prepare. Just in case."

"Well, 'just in case' is happening right now," the brunette grinned, stroking his shaft. "So, where are they?"

"My pants pocket."

Ashley reached for his pants, but then reconsidered. What she was about to suggest might be irresponsible, and relied on Davidson's honesty, which she had never doubted until now. But he was cheating on his wife, after all.

With a whore, her mind added.

"Are you fucking anyone other than your wife?" she asked, holding his gaze.

"No," he replied, shaking his head. "And I rarely fuck her."

"And have you fucked anyone else at all since you were married?"

"Not until we do," he said, winking. Ashley suppressed the urge to roll her eyes.

"And when was the last time you were checked for VD?"

"I had a full physical last year," Ken Davidson said, squinting at Ashley. "Where are you headed with this."

"Well, I got a checkup in late December. I've only fucked virgins since then, except my boyfriend, and he was a virgin when we started. I know he doesn't have anything. I know I don't have anything. And I'm on birth control."

"Wouldn't the condom create less mess?"

"Maybe." Ashley shrugged. "But it will leave its scent on you. If I rode you until you're about to come, then finished you with my mouth, it wouldn't be messy, you wouldn't smell like latex, and I could make sure you're all clean."

"I won't argue with that," the man grinned.

Ashley smiled back, straddled his lap, and positioned his penis at the proper angle. Seconds later, she slid down his length, the full feeling sending shivers through her limbs and tingles from her clitoris. Davidson grabbed her breasts, squeezing and twisting. The eighteen-year-old moaned, locked her arms around the man's neck, and kissed him. One of his hands dropped and wormed its way around to her bottom.

"God, your ass feels as good as it looks," he told her when she pulled her mouth from his. "So round and tight."

"Is my puss tight too?"

"Fuck yeah," the older man said. "Really tight."

"You want me to slide up and down your dick?"

"Yes," the man breathed.

Hands on his shoulders, Ashley lifted her pelvis. Davidson groaned, grabbed her hips, and slammed her down. The eighteen-year-old moaned, shuddered, and slid back up. The man yanked her back down. She whimpered at the impact, but not from pain. Shame regarding how good it felt threatened to invade her mind, but the young woman focused on the tingles emanating from her sex.

"Play with my boobs," she said, kissing his neck and cheek. Davidson did as she asked. Pleasure radiated from her sensitive nipples, down her stomach to her loins. But the pleasure of his strong hands on her breasts was not her primary reason for the request. Free of his hold on her waist, Ashley rose and fell, faster and faster. The sensation of pressure built behind her clit sooner than she expected. She thought about resisting, but Davidson picked that moment to tweak her nipples.

The young brunette fell against his lap, spasms tightening her vagina around his erection. Her muscles tensed seconds before her body shook. Arching her back, she grasped her client's biceps, steadying herself. A long, low moan escaped Ashley's lips, ending with a higher note as the peak of her climax took her. When it subsided, her body stilled. She collapsed forward, face buried into Ken Davidson's neck.

"That was quite an orgasm," he whispered.

"Uh huh," she replied, trying not to picture Corey's face. One of the reasons he did not object to her activities with their classmates was because, other than with him, she almost never reached climax. But with her first older client, she had finished easily. She suspected a lot of it was the buildup. The young guys she went down on rarely lasted long, so she never became sufficiently aroused ahead of the actual sex. But with Davidson, she had worshipped his penis first, not just given him a blowjob, and by the time they had sex, she was well down the road to an orgasm. But she feared that the thrill itself—both from the higher earnings and from being with an older, married man—was as much a factor. And that played into Corey's worst fears, even if he tried to tell her his objections were to ensure her mental well-being.

"Just to let you know, I'm not even close. Do you want...?"

Ashley rendered his question moot by rocking forward and back, his penis buried deep inside of her. Davidson gave her a wicked grin, clutching and twisting her sensitive breasts. She shuddered. His smile slackened. A moan escaped his lips to match her own sounds. She rocked faster. Perspiration coated her skin. She pushed herself, his hardness pressing up against the fleshy area on the vagina side of her clitoris every time she leaned forward. The man pulled her nipples. She wined. He twisted. She let out a combined whimper and moan. He released, and shivers shot up her spine as goosebumps erupted on her arms, legs, and chest despite the sheen of sweat.

A memory of nearly becoming hypothermic in the backseat of Corey's car while riding him intruded. Fear crept into Ashley's thoughts. But that had been back in February. Tonight was not as cold. The risk would be much less. Still, she worried about losing too much heat. She slowed her motion. Davidson did not complain, so she reduced her speed even more. But the change of tempo did not reverse her climb toward a second climax. If anything, she thought she grew even closer.

Get yourself off and then let him do the work., she told herself. There's plenty of room in this thing.

An image of herself on all fours, Ken Davidson behind her, driving into her, filled Ashley's head. Her loins responded, and seconds later, she shuddered and moaned through her second orgasm. The young woman leaned forward, head on her client's shoulder. She worked on slowing her breathing while waiting for the spasms deep inside her to taper off. The man stroked her hair, and she suspected he waited for her to start up again. But she went forward with her new plan.

She lifted off him, planting a quick kiss on his lips before sliding onto her knees. She pondered just finishing him with her mouth, as she had told him she would do earlier, but she did not want it to end yet. She told herself that was because he would be more likely to tell other men about what she had to offer if he was totally satisfied. But deep inside, in her mind as well as her sex, she knew the truth. She wanted him to take her, pound her, make her climax one more time before he did. And that unwanted, inescapable thought both enticed and repulsed.

Turning and dropping to all fours, the eighteen-year-old encountered an obstacle—the still upright seat in the second row. She fumbled for the latch, found it, started to tilt the seat forward, and remembered Davidson's slacks. She pushed herself up on one arm, grabbed the pants, and draped them over the front seat. A sharp smack to her bottom startled her. She yelped and turned to look at Davidson. The dim light made it difficult to discern his expression from a few feet away, but she believed she saw a sneer on his lips.

"You have such a great ass, Ashley," he told her right before landing another smack. This one brought another yelp, but although it stung more than the first, the young woman felt something else too. The impact had sent vibrations to her clitoris, and it responded with renewed tingles.

"Thank you, Ken.," she said, forcing a smile. "Just let me fold this seat forward to give us more..."

Ashley turned to look at the seat while she spoke, and the impact came as perhaps more of a shock than the first one. It drove her forward. She shuddered and groaned, trying to ignore her strengthening sexual response. Another whack left her moaning and keenly aware of the moisture trickling down her thigh.

No!

Something inside her screamed, resisted. Corey had spanked her once. Ashley had loved it but never intended to do it with anyone else. Now, not only was she letting a client do it, but she could not deny her arousal. She wanted him spank her, wanted to feel that heady mix of pleasure and pain. But she knew she should not. Her fingers worked the latch, the seat titled forward, and she crawled into the open space. Looking back over her shoulder, she wiggled her stinging bottom at Ken Davidson.

"Want to fuck me more, Ken?" she asked him, her voice low, husky, needful. She hated that it betrayed her.

"Fuck yeah," the older man laughed, kneeling behind her.

He grabbed her hips with one hand and slapped her derriere with the other. A whimpering moan filled the air, and she both dreaded and hoped for another blow. It did not come. She felt his hand against her sex, and the next moment the head of his penis slid inside of her. Then he had both her hips in his hands. His first thrust impaled her. The full feeling and his strong hands grasping her inflamed her. She pushed back at him, ensuring his manhood penetrated her as deeply as possible. He groaned in time with her moans, and a small, surprising climax left her shuddering.

Worthless whore, she admonished herself as Davidson began slamming into her, over and over. No—worthless slut. Only a slut would get off so much on this.

"Call me a whore," her voice said. When he did not reply, she wondered if Davidson might be as shocked as she was by her words.

"You're whore," he finally said, but his voice lacked conviction.

"Do you enjoy fucking your whore?" she pushed on, not paying attention to the guilt and shame that lurked in the background of her thoughts.

"Yes."

"Say it."

"I enjoy fucking my whore. I love the feel of her tight, young pussy around my cock. I love her loud moans and her whimpers. I love smacking her perfect little ass."

To punctuate his words, he landed the hardest smack yet to her bottom. Ashley whimpered. Another blow fell. She moaned.

"Pull my hair," she told him. He did, taking a fistful of her dark hair and yanking her head back. She gasped, moaned, thrust her hips back to meet his next stroke. The stinging pain from her butt cheeks and scalp mixed with the constant stimulation to her sex. Another mini-orgasm hit, and her vagina constricted around Davidson's driving manhood.

"Fuck your pussy squeezes me tight sometimes," he said amidst grunts and groans. "I've never felt anything like it."

"Do you like it?"

"Fuck yeah."

"You like fucking my tight cunt?"

"Yes," he croaked, and she wondered if he was close. If not, perhaps the dirty talk was bringing him close.

Maybe that would be best, she told herself. The guilt and shame will go away once it's over.

But she did not want it to be over. She wanted another big climax. The small ones were nice, but not enough. Holding herself as still as she could, she let Davidson take full control. He released the grip on her hair a few seconds later and slipped his hand to her chest. She moaned when his fingers found her nipple, and then again when he tweaked it.

"Like that?" he asked, and she whimpered he assent. He pulled and twisted at the same time. She shuddered and whined. He released her tortured nub. A tingling sensation shot from it to her loins, and her loudest moan yet filled the SUV. He repeated his actions, and she noticed the pressure building behind her clit. That did not happen with the small, more sudden orgasms, so she knew it signaled that a big one was building.

"Fuck me harder! Pound my little cunt as hard as... OH FUCK YEAH!

Davidson heeded the young brunette's words. He crashed into her violently, time and time again ramming every inch of his length deep inside, shaking her body with each impact. Ashley grunted and moaned, her mind fully focused on the physical sensations of the invading penis in her vagina, the slap of the man's skin on hers, the pain and pleasure from her wonderfully abused nipples, and the friction of her hands and knees sliding on the SUV's carpet as each impact pushed her forward. She did not think of Corey. She did not think of money. She did not think of future clients that Ken Davidson might send her way. She thought only of her coming release.

"Oh yeah... oh yeah...oh yeah...ohhhhhh... Yeah! Yeah! YEAH!"

A scream reverberated in the confined space, and at first the eighteen-year-old did not realize it came from her own mouth. Finger dug at the carpet as her body shook. One moment her muscles went rigid. The next, tremors assaulted them. Ashley collapsed forward, face and breasts rubbing against the carpet as Davidson plowed into her. Nerve endings aflame, the carpet seemed tenfold rougher than it had moments before. Stinging pain mixed with jolts of pleasure streaking up those already stimulated nerves. Drool leaked from her mouth, the coolness of the moisture providing unwanted relief to her cheek. She wondered if the torturous bliss would ever end. Lights danced before her eyes.

Her lungs filled with cool air, and she suspected that her body had forgotten to breath for at least several seconds. The shimmering glow faded from her vision, and some measure of strength returned to her trembling limbs. Strong hands held her hips, and the realization that something was missing made its way into her head. She recalled a voice, Davidson's voice, telling her that her pussy was vibrating around him, that he could not hold back. Ashley turned to look at the man. He stared at her, an expression of apology etched on his face.