Confession of a JAP

A young man who seemed more boy than man sat down in front of me. He looked like one of the bar backs that bussed table at the restaurants that I went to. He wore black Dickie clothes - a cotton pant and a shirt. He had a simple barber haircut and the hair slicked with product. His face looked simple like someone who didn't go to college. He looked nervous. He looked afraid.

"Is this your first time," I asked him.

"No, it is my second time," he said. "Well, he added. It is my second time coming here. It is my third time having sex."

"It's $400," I told him point blank.

"How about $300," he asked nervous, his voice shaky.

I thought he might be throwing up any moment. I'm Jewish. I know how to negotiate since I had diapers on. I took his left hand. It was a big hand, a strong hand. He definitely worked with his hands. I slipped his hand under my cashmere sweater under my pushup bra to rest on my bare, natural breasts so that he could feel my pink nipples against his hand.

"Do you like this?" I asked him. "This costs $400," I told him.

At that moment, a pungent, musk smell hit my nose. He had a full on raging boner. The foreskin had slipped of the head of his penis. And his penis head was wafting pheromones as hard as it could. The black women in the steam room had said that men lose their minds when they get horny and become pliable like melted candle wax.

He quickly doubled over to grab his shoe. He ripped off his shoe without untying it. He slipped of his sock. He got folded up dollars bills out of his sock. It was a hundred. He got another three hundred out of his wallet. He had planned to hold out the extra money. But now I held his entire paycheck for the whole week in my hands. I felt a sense of power to so utterly take everything from a man. It wasn't what the money did for me but what giving away everything he had meant to him that put a smile on my face. I felt guilty, but the interrogator inquisitioned me: "Deep down, you love it. You love wielding power like a dark lord from the deepest crevasse of hell."

He begged me, "Please, take me! I don't have anything else left."

I smiled. I was quiet. Just as I was quiet when my girlfriends discussed the color of the swimsuit, I was quiet. But on the inside, I was laughing with joy. I got up, grabbed his hand, and pulled him into the dark vail of gray. His hand was limp. He felt light because he was so delicately hurrying to follow my lead. I owned him. He was my property. I could do with him how I pleased. I would let me to do him anything without pushback.

My heart was pounding. I was in the dark gray veil. I could only see black and white dots of my eyes playing tricks on me. I had to feel my way past the chairs. They were chairs where the back and arm rests are a u-shape. There is upholstery, and men can slouch down to be half reclining. My hand reached into the darkness to feel the wood of the backrests. I'd feel towards where I thought the seat was to find hair or skin. The people that I touched seemed so consumed by their fuck that they didn't react. Some of the skin was sweaty wet.

I found us an empty chair in the very back. I pushed him into the seat and pushed his shoulder down until his butt has slipped to the front of the chair and he was reclining back. I unbuttoned his black pants. I slipped them with the boxer shorts down to his ankles. I accidentally slapped his dick with my face when I bent all the way forward. He shriek-moaned in delight when he felt my soft and moisturized facial skin.

Next to his ear, I snapped the condom wrapper open to let him hear the rip of the metallic wrapper. I felt for the reservoir, unrolled a little and placed it in my mouth. Then, I walked my hand down his chest to the belly and finally groin. With one hand, I grabbed his shaft. With the other, I carefully adjusted the condom in my mouth. Then I kissed his dick to place the condom on the tip of his dick. With precise tongue strokes, I pushed the rolled up rim of the condom down his shaft. I had practiced this with a banana. I had practiced to feel the roll, tighten and sharpen my tongue, carefully wedge the tongue under and then push forward hard to unroll it a bit more. He moaned and squirmed like he couldn't take it. I felt the success drive of a dedicated student to succeed. And his cock filled my mouth more and more until there was so much cock in my mouth that I couldn't possibly take anymore. Then I pushed the condom ring all the way down to the base.

"Oh, my god, you are doing me so good. I've never felt anything like this my whole life!" he begged me.

I recalled vividly exactly how one of the black women said: "The rush of power." And she left that standing in the steamy room for the depth and richness of the feeling to linger and roll around in your mind. And now that I could feel it inside of me, I could feel what she meant. And the ever vigilant interrogator asked me with a concerned tone: "Will you ever be able to break that addiction?"

I took my Hermes pants of and put them into by back. Then I rolled my panties down my legs. I stepped out of them. I felt the moist place that my sex had rested against. I searched for his face. He relaxed at first but struggled in reflex a bit when he felt me pulling the panties over his face. I sharply told him: "Still!" He instantly froze like an obedient puppy. I adjusted my waistband around his hair. And made sure to t position the moist spot under his nose. He sharply inhaled and breathed out with a deep moan of bliss.

"I'm in heaven! I'm in heaven!" he incantated. He sounded like he was far gone into some land of bliss that reality couldn't touch him anymore.

I moved through the darkness how I moved through life - quiet and unseen. The shy, quiet girl with her rich inner life was the same girl unseen in the darkness mounting the strange man. I dug my knees into the seat cushion left and right of his hips to straddle him. I reached for his cock to point it straight up. Then I lowered my groin onto it and swallowed his sex with mine.

The black women had warned me that this moment is so overwhelming for men that they can come in an instant. And when they come, you have all power lost. They said that it was important to pause and take the men out of the moment. So I sat down all the way on his dick. My buttock bones were digging into his groin. His dick tip was ringing my cervix like a church bell.

"Tell me how much you adore me!" I ordered him. That was going to send him squirming and searching in his head to forget to ejaculate prematurely.

"Oh, my goddess! I walked in and I fell for you. You are so beautiful. Your red hair is like touched by angels. No girl like you would talk with me. And there I get to fuck you. My dick is in love with. It's exploding. Your boobs are so perfect, so natural. Your mouth is so delicious. You are such an artist. You must be very smart," he wasn't Shakespeare but he was earnest in his desire. And that shaking in his voice had come back. He was afraid. His dick must have shriveled enough to start pumping him.

I lifted my loins and slammed back down. In the darkness I felt alone. I got into a rhythm that was itching me just right. I almost forgot about him, that moaning, melted mess underneath me. His deep was a hard point, and I was driving that hard point into just the right spot on the front of my cervix. I had coated the condom and the front of his pelvis with my fluids. Wet, load slaps came from my humping. I loved sending out the sound to all the strangers around me to mingle our sensations, arousal, and to transmit and receive energy from all around me.

The same raw sounds that I had hurt were coming out of me. I could feel them behind my heart, deep in my throat. It was like everything was vibrating and resonating when the sounds came out of me. Even the walls seemed to echo with it. I was going to the distance. I was going for speed.

Then he started breathing faster. I lifted my hips completely off him to let his dick flop against is belly.

"You don't get to come until I come," I hissed at him sharply cutting like a steel sword.

"I'm sorry! I'm sorry!" he stammered, completely out of it.

"Breathe with me! Four sniffs in and four sniffs out," I ordered him. Then I audibly inhaled and exhaled in four parts. I paced him. I slowed down his nervous system. All the things you learn by overhearing strangers in a steam room.

"I'm good. I'm ready to go again," he whispered quietly with a strong tone to please me.

I grabbed his dick with one hand. It felt a little softer than the rock hard stick from before. I carefully guided it into my canal. I started grinding. I smashed my clit onto his pubic bone. I felt like a camel grinding on him. I had heard that camels grind their fight opponents to death. I was grinding like a mean woman. I was chasing towards my own release.

And then I let us both pop.

The black woman had taught me two things: When the guy pops, you lose your power. They can become mean. There is no more point in hanging around. Also, the guy falls asleep right after. That's nature's will to give you a chance to get away.

I snapped my panties of his face. I got my pants back out of the back. I put both on. I grabbed my back and walked straight to the bar area. I went for the curtain. The bouncer put his hand on my shoulder to hold me back long enough to check that the street was empty. Then he let me go.

I was back in the empty cold streets in the early AM hours. Everything down there was soaked by my juices and felt yucky. I walked through the bitter cold air of the night of tall Midtown high rise canyons. It took a long time for the train to come at this time. The train had more people. It's all the invisible people that keep the city running before the regular people get up. Hotel workers, bakers, cooks, sanitation workers.

A first tear dropped onto my cheeks and then a torrent. At first, I couldn't put my finger on it. But then the deep burning I felt inside me was a sadness, a loss, and a sense of abandonment. A mix of emotions went through me. There guilt of society for selling my body weighed on me. All these emotions and richness of experience wanted to be expressed and shared, but there I was alone on the subway. The black women had also warned of "top drop." It's when you step down from a pedestal of power. It's a very fragile feeling. The interrogator had listened and observed my outpouring. And now he came in to ever dig deeper: "But did you feel alive doing it?"