Dating Miranda

I first met Mira in the bar of the Hotel New Siru in Brussels. The New Siru, in the middle of the red light district, was at the time the off-duty chill-out zone for the local working girls.

I was sitting at a corner table with a coffee and a cognac. She was sitting at the bar drinking tea. A gaggle of other women were clustered at the end of the bar but Mira was alone. There was an unwritten rule for punters that they shouldn't try to pick up the girls when they were off duty so I let her be.

At the time I was working as a fly-and-fix software engineer for one of the major computer suppliers. I kept an overnight bag in the office and I always carried my passport. It wasn't a bad job. The pay was good and I usually got to fly business class. One of the secretaries always booked my travel and accommodation. I had little say in where I pitched up. She did very often book me hotels in red-light districts though. I asked her one day how she chose the hotels. She said she was working to a price target and that she picked the best hotels she could find for the price.

I didn't mind rubbing shoulders with the girls though. They could be very chatty when off duty and I found them to be very good company on the whole. Smart, witty, well informed and multi-lingual. Besides, I did occasionally go for a wander and engage one for a shag. It could be a bit odd to be fucking someone with whom I'd just had an edgy political debate but they just took it all in their stride.

By and large I have great respect and affection for the street-walkers of Europe.

I finished my coffee and brandy and went to the bar for a beer. I could have waited for the waitress but I fancied I could join the banter at the bar. I walked up beside Mira and ordered a Leffé. She glanced at me and I said "Vous semblez un peu à l'écart"1.

She smiled and nodded towards the other women "My French isn't good enough to keep up with them... It is better than yours though!"

She was a tall skinny woman with high, small breasts, short brown hair and big round glasses that magnified her grey eyes. She was wearing a mid-thigh tweed pencil skirt and a loose white blouse -- viscose or something. She looked a bit like a pool-typist except for the 5" black patent stilettos. Her accent was fairly anodyne home-counties with a slight hint of somewhere rural.

"Ah. Another ex-pat contractor. So how's business?"

She gave me an appraising look. Work is not generally an acceptable topic of conversation in such circumstances.

"Not bad. The English secretary look and bad French go down well with the natives. My colleagues" she gestured towards the gaggle of local girls. "are more successful with the tourists. I do get spanked a lot though." I avoided the temptation to look at her arse while she watched me struggle and gave her tush the slightest of shimmies.

I offered to buy her a beer and she graciously accepted a small pression.

"So you're not a tourist then?" I gave a shake and sipped my Leffé.

"No. Nor a local. I'm just a horny little contract worker who likes to hang-out with tarts."

"So you're no good to any of us then!" Her eyes sparkled.

"Well... I have my moments. Maybe I'll run into you later." The warmth of her smile chilled a degree or two. "Or maybe you'd like to have a spot of lunch tomorrow and chat about Cambridge."

She laughed. "Very slick! I'd have to watch myself with a smooth operator like you if I wasn't so 'experienced'."

She finished her beer and headed for the ladies. When she returned her hair and make-up were immaculate and her breath was as fresh as a daisy.

"Well I have to get back to the grind." She arched an eyebrow. "I'll see you here at noon tomorrow. Don't be late. And bring your gold-card, lunch won't be cheap."

I watched her arse sway out into the night.

She ate cold lobster salad and drank kriek. I ate very little and drank water. She talked about her home, her parents, her physics degree, her stultifying two-years as a physics teacher and a string of failed relationships. She was a delight to be with. After lunch she held me lightly and kissed me on the lips. Her mouth was soft. I rested my hands on her bony hips and pulled her against me. She bit my bottom lip until I relaxed my grip.

"If that's what you want I don't start work until eight."

"And if that's not what I wan't?"

She stood back with her hands on my shoulders and gazed into my eyes for a while. I waited.

"I get off at one. You can buy me supper."

I smiled... "That's a date."

"Watch yourself mister. Or I'll have you for breakfast." She turned and left. I sat and cogitated -- had I just pulled a tart? It seemed unlikely. I recalled her forensic analyses of her previous relationships. I was forewarned...

I was waiting in the hotel bar. She arrived on time in tight jeans, suede boots and a furry bolero jacket over a T-shirt. She walked up to me, grabbed me by my jacket lapels and kissed me full on the mouth. I rested my hands lightly on her hips again and enjoyed the long, soft kiss. She broke the kiss, looked me in the eye and whispered "Three men came in my mouth tonight."

I smiled "Is that a good night's work for you?" She took my arm and we strolled out of the door.

"Not bad. Nine men fucked me."

"I fixed a really bad performance bottleneck for my client today. Shall I tell you all about it?"

"God no! Let's eat."

She took me to a little back street restaurant that was obviously closed. She knocked on the door with a coin and it opened after a few seconds. Not as closed as it looked.

She ate gravlax with her fingers and drank kriek again. I joined in with the gravlax and drank Westmalle.

"Tell me your name." I said.

"Mira -- try at least to remember who I am or you're not going to get far at all."

"That's your working name. That's not what I want. Give me another one." She looked momentarily embarrassed.

"Miranda -- but if you ever call me that your arse is grass! You can call me Mira or, if you really must May."

"Your father was...?"

"Yes... an Eng. Lit. Prof. at Oxford -- don't push it. What's your name?

"Still Alan but you can call me Enrico."

"Alan. Yes -- that's right. Who's Enrico?" I didn't reply. "Your father was...?"

"Yup -- Physics Prof at Imperial. Probably as disappointed as yours."

"That I seriously doubt."

"He knows?"

"Oh yes. One of his grad students sent him some pictures."

"That's mean."

"Not really. He was trying to get into her pants at the time. She didn't know we were related."

"You go both ways?"

"It's a job. A client's a client. I have sex for money. If that's a problem leave now. I'm not going to stop."

"No Mira. It's not a problem for me at all. You can have as much sex as you want with whomever you want. I really don't mind."

She'd been working her way though a large pile of gravlax and was just about done.

"And how does your wife feel about it."

"No wife. No 'significant other'. I'm unencumbered."

She finished her beer and waved to the owner. "Come on, let's go." I reached for my wallet. "Your money's no good here. Anyway, you got lunch." She took me by the arm and we left. She led me back to the hotel. "Your room." We went in by the residents door.

Inside the room She crossed her arms and ankles and leaned back against the door. "OK lover. Let's see what you're packing."

I took my jacked off and hung it on the back of the chair. I took off my shoes and socks and walked back towards the door. I took her head in my hands and kissed her softly. She resisted a moment then uncrossed her arms and held me round the waist. I felt her lips part and our tongues met. We kissed for a long time. By the end she'd uncrossed her ankles and pulled herself to me. She pressed her body to mine. She did that little shimmy again as she felt my hardening cock against her pelvis.

We broke the kiss. "Three loads of spunk -- you really don't mind?"

"If it's OK by you it's OK by me."

As our bodies parted she started working on my belt. "I really do want to see what you've got in there."

I unbuttoned my shirt as she opened my fly and dug out my tackle. She was still fully dressed. She dropped to her knees and removed my trousers and underwear. She took my cock in her left hand and cupped my balls with her right. She inspected me closely. "Where have you put this recently?"

"Nowhere in the last couple of weeks."

"Really? Do you think you'll be able to keep up with me?"

"It seems we may be about to find out." She'd finished her inspection and reached out her tongue. She licked up under my cock from the frenulum to the meatus. Her tongue very soft and slow. She repeated the movement several times. I rested the tips of my fingers on her bony shoulders.

She licked around my corona. All the way round and back to the start. First clockwise then anticlockwise. She repeated this several times, alternating with licking the underside of my cock, until I started to moan softly. Then she pushed her mouth over my cock and bobbed her head slowly, her tongue working on my glans all the while. Her right hand began to softly massage my balls in time to the movement of her mouth. Then her left hand began very lightly to stroke the shaft of my cock. She was very good.

I began to move my arse a bit. Trying not to thrust into her mouth. Just rotating a bit 'cause what she was doing to me made it just too hard to keep still. She removed my cock from her mouth and slid her open mouth down the right side of my cock then back up, bobbed twice on the head then slowly down the left side and back. She added this movement to her previous actions, alternating this mouthing of my cock with her tonguing of my glans.

I knew she was expecting me to cum in her mouth and wouldn't object -- she'd made her views on that subject quite clear. So I just relaxed and enjoyed her. I made no attempt to hurry or delay my orgasm. She was doing such a wonderful job that I just let her get on with it.

She was slowly increasing her pace as my orgasm approached. She never made a single mistake. She seemed to sense my progress and rode steadily along with it. Just as I was about to cum she started to hum softly and it sent me right over the edge. She had the rhythm perfectly. She was already moving her head with the exact tempo of my spurts so that each spurt of cum was perfectly matched to her mouth descending on my shaft and her tongue sliding over my frenulum. As I slowed towards the end so did she. And as I expelled the last few drops of spunk into her warm mouth she held her lips just behind my corona and gently palpated the underside of my cock with her soft tongue.

She held my cock gently in her mouth until it stopped twitching. Then she pulled off, cleaning all the cum off and sat back on her heels. She swallowed and stood up -- I knew what was coming. She put her arms around my neck and moved in for the kiss. It was as long and soft and erotic as her first kiss.

As we kissed I put my hands around her and massaged her back and shoulder-blades. When we broke the kiss she looked into my eyes. I held her gaze as I massaged her back.

She said "Maybe you really don't mind." I shook my head and carried on rubbing the knots out of her shoulders. She rested her forehead on my right shoulder and let the tension run out of her muscles. "You really are quite good at that." I carried on for a while as she slumped against me.

"Would you like a proper massage?"

"Don't you want to fuck me now? Or can't you get it up yet?"

"I'm in no hurry. You can have what you want. Really. Just ask and it's yours."

"Don't make rash promises lover-boy. You might live to regret it."

"Why did you pick me out for special treatment?"

"You speak reasonably good English."

I stopped the massage with my left arm around her shoulders, bent down and picked her up with my right arm under her knees. She was only about 50 -- 51 kilos. As I picked her up she rested her head on my chest. I carried her to one of the two beds, laid her down and began to remove her clothes. Jacket, boots, jeans, T-shirt and a rather incongruous very brief pair of white cotton panties with a rosebud design. She didn't help me to undress her but was obligingly flexible as I moved her limbs and body about.

I went and got a large towel and some talc from the bathroom -- unfortunately I had no oil. I rolled her over on to her stomach and began a serious massage. I started, as I always do, with her feet and worked my way up her legs to her buttocks. My fingers grazed her labia occasionally as I massaged the backs of her thighs. She was definitely wet. Deep massage of her bum then on to her lower back and up to her shoulders and neck. A detour down her arms to her hands and fingers. Then I lifted her up and gently turned her over. She murmured something indistinct that I didn't catch.

I carefully massaged her neck and scalp then her face. Her shoulders again, from the front this time, then on to her breasts. The stomach is a tricky subject for massage, some people love it, some can't stand it and I didn't want to spoil her relaxation so I skipped it and went back to her feet. I massaged the tops of her feet, her shins, knees and the fronts of her thighs and ended up, conveniently with her mons.

By this time it was nearly three AM. I had nothing to do in the morning, my job was finished and the hotel was booked for another night. I was very tempted to bury my nose in her lovely shaven pussy but she was so relaxed by then that I knew she would sleep as soon as I stopped messing with her. So I drew back the sheets on the double, picked her up off the single, laid her down gently on her side and covered her up.

I turned out the main lights and went for a quick shower. When I got back she was fast asleep. I spooned in behind her, turned off the alarm and the bedside light and went to sleep.

I awoke naturally the following morning about ten. I rolled onto my back. She was propped up on one elbow. She'd been watching me sleep. "What did you do to me?"

"After I came in your mouth? I just gave you a massage. That's all."

"I never sleep with clients. Not ever. What have you done to me?" She didn't sound cross. In fact she sounded very calm.

"Perhaps I'm not a client..."

"I never sleep with men at all!"

"Women?"

"NO!" She flopped onto her back and giggled.

I propped myself up on my elbow and looked down on her. "Then I must be a daemon. I've bewitched you."

"I just can't get off to sleep with another person in the room."

"It was very late."

"I doubt that -- I'm rarely in bed before four."

"Then I don't know... are you hungry? Can I take you to breakfast."

"No. I'm horny as hell. Didn't you fuck me last night?"

"No. You went to sleep as soon as I'd finished your massage."

"Wicked man! Leaving a woman wanting -- you'd better do something about it now then hadn't you!"

I slid under the bed clothes and worked my way between her legs -- which she obligingly parted for me. I slid my arms under her thighs. She lifted up the sheet and peered down at me "Are you going to eat me?"

"Uh-ha..."

"Are you any good at it? I'm very particular you know..."

"You'll be giving me marks out of ten no doubt."

She threw aside the bed-clothes and propped herself on her elbows again. I lifted her legs with my arms and held the tops of her thighs in my hands. Her vagina smelled quite pungent but not at all unpleasant. I lowered my mouth and covered the top of her slit in a soft kiss.

"I had ten men up there yesterday."

I lifted my head. "Nine." I started with a series of soft kisses up and down her slit.

"Ah yes. I was counting you too."

"Bit previous sweetheart -- I was number four."

"Ah yes. Number four in my mouth. Your spunk is very nice -- thank god you don't smoke."

I parted the folds of her pussy with my tongue -- keeping it very soft. She inhaled deeply and sighed.

"Am I really your sweetheart. Nobody calls me sweet these days."

"Only time will tell honey. Your pussy is very sweet at least. And no cum in it as far as I can tell..." I went back to work.

"Hmmm that's nice... No, they were all tourists last night."

"So you don't go bare?"

"Not with tourists! I have one or two trusted regulars that have extra privileges... is that going to be a problem."

"You talk too much!" I sucked her clitoris fairly hard and she reared up and gasped. "No it's not going to be a problem. Let me concentrate." I went back to work.

"You carry on lover. Don't mind me. I tend to chatter on a bit when I'm being eaten." I ignored her. I dipped my tongue into her tunnel and stirred it round. She shimmied -- I was getting used to that movement. I softly felt around till I had a good understanding of her anatomy then I pursed my lips and planted them on her clit. My top lip was above her hood -- quite stiff. With my bottom lip soft and cupping the tip of her clitoris. I had a tentative lick at her clit to see how sensitive it was. She jumped -- OK, that's quite sensitive. I positioned my tongue over her hood and lapped gently. She opened her knees wider and canted her cunt up a bit. I could feel her pulse with my lips and started lapping in sync with her heartbeat.

"Oh yes! Keep doing that! you're quite good at that -- how many women have you had?" I ignored her and kept lapping. "Quite right -- keep your mind on your job." I reached up and covered her little A-cups. I spread my fingers and moved my hands slowly in and out, strobing her long hard nipples with my fingers. I kept on lapping.

"Hmmm -- that's nice. Do you like them? They are so small most men don't even notice they're there." I stuck my tongue deep in her pussy and sucked up her muffin juice. She was drenched. I moved my tongue-tip across her perineum and circled her little brown starfish. "Hmmm -- that's nice too but no fingers and definitely no cock!". I went back to lapping her clit. She gasped and grabbed two fistfuls of hair -- quite hard.

I flat-palmed her breasts, gave them a squeeze and strobed my fingers across her nipples again. She seemed to quite like all of it. I carried on playing with her tits and lapping at her cunt. She started to moan quite loudly.

Suddenly she tensed her whole body and started to shake. She tightened her grip on my hair and started to wank herself fast with my nose. She gave a deep full-throated roar and came like an express train. I was hoping she'd finish her orgasm before she broke my nose or I ran out of oxygen...

She collapsed back on the bed panting hard. I propped myself up between her legs and felt my scalp gingerly to see how much hair I'd lost. Then I rested my hands on her mons and looked along her body.

"Phew! you're so good at that I don't think I'll let you fuck me."

"Suit yourself!" I stood up and headed for the bathroom for a long hot shower. Two minutes later she opened the shower door and joined me.

"Why didn't you fuck me? You could have just shoved it right in you know -- I wouldn't've minded." I started to soap her tall skinny bod. In bare feet she was about my height.

"Am I a trusted regular now?"

She grabbed me round the waist and snuggled up tight. "I've no idea what you are. I've never had a man quite like you." I laughed. "I know" she said "I've had a lot... But you're... strange." She paused. "You're very talented -- how many women have you had?"

"Does it matter? I wouldn't ask you that question."

"Good! I'd refuse to answer! - How many?"

"I stopped counting at a hundred."

She giggled - "So did I! Men that is. I still know how many women I've had." She lifted her arms and let me soap her all over. I took the spray head off the hook and washed off the soap. Playing the hot water over her as she rotated slowly like a donna kebab. Out of the shower she stood patiently while I dried her with a big fluffy towel.