Diary of a High Price Escort Ch. 25

"Yes," Mitch interjected, expecting me to expand.

A single tear cascaded down my cheek as I admitted, "I love the variety of men. I love having a different cock every time, the way men respond to my mouth, my tits, cunt, and my ass."

"Oh," he said.

Since I was being candid with him, I further explained, "I love the difference in the size of men's cocks, how they surge deep in my throat, slam inside my ass or cunt. I love how they taste, and when a man cums in my mouth, I love that taste the most."

His demeanor toward me seemed to change, and as he stood up, he said, "So you love being an expensive whore."

Other than in a fit of passion in Cancun, Mitch had never referred to me as a whore. Coming from him, the word stung, and my eyes filled with tears as I nodded yes at him.

"Well, I suspect I need to give you want you want most," he said as he untwisted his towel and exposed his limp cock to me.

Through watery eyes, I looked up a him and then dropped my eyes to his cock.

He didn't speak; instead, he reached for my hair with one hand and filled his fist with my long blonde locks. As he tilted my head back, Mitch voiced his intentions, "I'm gonna fuck your throat, let you taste what you crave most."

His forward movement trapped my head between the edge of the mattress and the limp cock, which he held with his free hand.

The tip touched my lips, and I let him force his cock head inside my mouth. He didn't stop until my lips pressed against his pubic mound.

"Come on whore, suck it until it's nice and hard," he commanded.

Every time before, I'd made love to his cock, teasing it with my soft lips, wet tongue, and slippery throat, but this time I treated it like so many others wanting to get him erect, fuck my mouth and throat and then empty his cum load inside me. I felt like his whore, and I wanted him to treat me that way.

I used my tongue to massage the underside of his cock, letting the soft head press against the back of my throat. He began to react, surging and growing harder. I wanted to urge him on verbally, but with his cock stuffed inside my mouth, I could only moan softly as his cock grew harder.

"Use that whore mouth," he said.

He drew back enough, so his cock head slipped from my lips, and I was finally able to speak, "Fuck my mouth, make me your?." I couldn't finish because he again thrust forward, inserting his growing erection deeper in my mouth.

As he got harder, he released his cock moved his hand to the opposite side of my skull, now fisting my hair on both sides of my head.

I opened my mouth wide, giving him total access to my sopping wet mouth and smooth, slippery throat. He began slowly thrusting forward and withdrawing each time more of my saliva was pulled from my mouth. It started dripping off my chin and coating my big soft tits. My tears joined my spit, and I moved my hands up to smear the moisture evenly over my entire face.

"Now, you look like a cheap whore," Mitch remarked as the pace of his thrusts into me increased.

His cock, now totally erect, filled my mouth, and with each thrust, his cock head slipped into my throat.

"That's it, Mitch, shove it down my whore throat," I urged.

He was face fucking me each time his rock-hard cock reached deeper and deeper in my moist, soft throat.

I reached up and cradled his balls, wanting to entice them to release their torrid of hot thick creamy cum.

"You want my cum, don't you slut?" he asked.

I couldn't speak but nodded my head. I wanted his cum more than anything; I wanted to taste him, feel his thick stick load coating every part of my mouth and throat. I could tell from his surging cock that he was nearly there.

"I'm gonna?" he bellowed.

He gripped my head tightly and shoved his rock-hard throbbing cock as deep in my throat as possible, just as the first thick sticky wad of cum exploded from his urethra. I swallow instantly, knowing this wouldn't be the last of his load.

"YES!" he screamed as again, and again his cock spewed lava-hot cum down my throat. It was nearly impossible to keep up with his climax, swallowing each succussive shot as he deposited it deep in my throat.

Finally, after what seemed an eternity, his orgasm began to subside, and as he pulled his cock from my throat, I got my first taste of his cum load. Sweet and savory as always.

Mitch's expression was demeaning; staring down at my wet face, he withdrew his cock from my mouth and slapped it several times against my lips and cheeks.

"You're quite the cum slut," he said in a harsh tone of voice.

I didn't reply, knowing his opinion of me was changed forever.

Mitch moved back and sat down on the chair, gathering the towel and using it to wipe his loans of my saliva and his cum.

"I'm done with you whore," he said as he leaned back in the chair.

"Mitch?." I began to say, but he cut me off, holding his hand up toward me. It was clear he was done; I stood up and quickly made my way to the bathroom, closed and locked the door.

He'd given me what I wanted, but in addition, I now felt like the high price prostitute I would become as I showered tears of sorrow cascaded from my eyes. Mitch had been an incredible lover, but I knew going forward that if he requested my services again, I would be there to satisfy his sexual needs.

I wrapped my body with a towel and opened the door to grab my overnight bag. Mitch was sitting on the bed with his back against the headboard.

"You can call an Uber from the lobby," he remarked.

I returned to the bathroom with my bag and quickly dressed in the casual outfit I was planning on wearing while he and I spent Sunday together. With my wet hair pulled back into a ponytail, I again left the bathroom. Mitch was still sitting up in bed, but at the bottom, there was an envelope. "That's your tip," he remarked.

I picked it up and looked inside, finding a sizable stack of crisp one-hundred-dollar bills.

"Mitch I?." I again began, but his hand rose off the bed to cut me off.

I turned and walked toward the door; as I placed my hand on the lever, I again turned to him and said, "I'm sorry."

Mitch didn't reply.

I felt like I was about to start crying as I slowly walked toward the elevator but realized I didn't have anything to cry about. My life has become exactly what I wanted.