He Never Forgets

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Despite the daily grind, James will always be my man.
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While I touch up my lip-gloss and mascara, the slowness of my workday reminds me that today is Valentines Day. I've seen reminders throughout the day and evening as well. Most of the husbands and fathers have remembered to buy something nice for their wife, cook supper for her, or take her out on a date.

The early afternoon clientele are what girls on the stroll call "suits"; office workers who slip out from the office for a quick "handie" or a blowjob. When the grey minivan approaches the corner, I rest my arms on the passenger door and ask the usual, "Are you looking for a date, sweetie?" That's when I notice the child car seat in the back, with a flower arrangement sitting proudly in it.

My bent over position allows for a great peek down my low-neck blouse, at my still perky DDs. At 33, my body is still holding up, I think. But, fifteen years of working the streets probably hasn't helped much with that. It can be a rough life sometimes, but James and I do what we do to pay the rent, with enough left over for the drugs that keep us happy.

And while my john invites me in to make a deal on getting him off, I know that James is doing what he does best - fucking bored wives of executives while their husbands are out fucking as much young pussy as they can find. That is how the world works, I guess.

You see, James was gifted with great looks; six-foot-two and an athletic body, as well as a big fat cock that is to die for. He has been servicing older, married women since high school. Word traveled quickly at PTA meetings back then, and now the elegant wives at the country club share their boy toys as well.

So, the suit and I find a secluded parking lot where he unzips and pulls out his hard little dick. I'm happy that it is barely the size of a breakfast sausage. Lots of guys like to push your head onto their cock to hear you gag as you blow them. It is the power that comes with paying for sex. When that time comes, I'll have to fake the choking and gagging part, but those sounds usually do the trick. Time is money, and the sooner he cums, the sooner I find my next client.

I bob my head up and down in time with his firm hand pushing my head down, until my lips wrap around his stumpy root. Slurps and moans give him the sensation that I need his "big cock" as much as he needs to dump his load. In less than three minutes of sucking, the suit gives up the goods. He is a big shooter, but not much volume, so I earn my money pretty easily.

Later in the afternoon, it is more factory workers, wanting a quick blowjob or a fuck. I sometimes work from a shady, dark-lit bar, where they stop off to have a "few drinks with the boys". I will slip into the washroom with a client, if the right bartender is on. He will get his share at the end of the evening for looking the other way.

But that doesn't happen today, so I work the corner some more. A sedan pulls up, and I see the guy toss the wrapped chocolates on the back seat, before he unlocks the door for me to get in. It is Ray, and he is a regular, who prefers going to the park by the bay front to complete our transaction.

He's a bit kinky, though, always asking if I've been busy. He sometimes asks to go down on me before he fucks me in the back seat. I will say things like, "Yeah, clean me up and then you can cum in there too." Ray never fails to cum in the first few strokes. I charge a lot more for bareback, and only with regulars, but Ray has been a client for so long, I give him what we call "his dirty discount".

I meet up with a few more clients before calling it a night. It is late, and I usually eat something from the fridge when I get home. But my man James is waiting for me. He is at the stove when I get in, just turning on the heat to boil the water for pasta. The apartment smells of an Italian restaurant - I love a man who can fuck AND cook!

The kitchen table is set for two; a vase with red roses in it is the centerpiece. At my plate is a foil-wrapped heart-shaped box. I graze the foil with a finger as I pass by, slipping in behind my busy man. My hands glide between his muscular biceps and rib cage, and my body presses into him.

"They're beautiful, James," I announce, my right cheek pressed against the back of his neck.

James turns around, and hugs me tight. "No more than you, Chantelle." Our troubles slip away while each of us melts into the other. I look up for a kiss and his magical lips draw in my lower lip. I am wet already, as I inhale the fresh tomato and basil, as well as James' manly pheromones. Tongues dance, lips suckle, and moans reverberate between us.

Our hands caress the other's body until the sizzle of the overflowing water brings us back to the moment. James turns back and tends to the meal once more. I stir the bubbling meat sauce while James adds strands of spaghetti to the water.

I open the fridge. There isn't much in it, but at the back lies an unopened bottle of red wine. "Some wine?" I ask.

"Not tonight, baby," he replies, pulling out a packet from his shirt pocket. "Emily Johnson gave me some blow, for dessert." My eyes widen. I can't blame the lady for giving James a hit of that shit when he fucks her. He becomes an animal, and his fat cock can last for an hour. I have the most amazing orgasms when we both use coke, especially when James fucks my ass.

"Oh, sweet!" I say, closing the fridge door. We sit and enjoy our meal, and I open my box of chocolates after. I love Maraschino cherries, and with the first bite, the sweet goo fills my mouth. My tongue rolls through the muck and works the cherry to my lips, where they hold it until I can pinch it lightly between my teeth. I show it to James and he descends on me, enveloping my mouth with his lips.

I push the bulb into his mouth, where he bites down, squirting cherry flavor onto our tongues. James pulls away, and says, "Bring the box." We are off to the bedroom, where James sits on the bed and spills the contents of his baggie onto a small mirror lying on the nightstand.

I get on my knees, placing the box of chocolates next to the mirror, and then unbuckle James' pants while he forms the white powder into six even rows. I shuck his pants off and yank down his underwear so that I can access my needs.

James takes a small straw next to the mirror and inhales deeply into his left nostril. I take his already hard shaft into my mouth and it twitches at the moment James takes his second hit. My man lies back on the bed, the drug's effects hitting him hard.

"Your turn, baby," he says. "Then suck my dick!". I pull away from him and snort both lines - my sinuses feeling a half-mile wide. I rub a finger across my front teeth, and go back to James rock hard cock. I love his hands in my hair, and even more when he takes control. I love being mouth-fucked, when its not for money.

Euphoria strikes, and James dick feels as big as a balloon in my mouth. I don't taste rubber on his dick, which isn't a surprise. Annabelle Johnson likes it bareback and James hates wearing safes. In fact, most of the high society women he pleasures insist on enjoying James' cum filling them up and running down their legs.

James hands feel like octopus tendrils as they cup my head, pushing his mushroomed tip deep into my throat. I don't feel the need to breathe; I want his snake deeper in my gullet, and my lips mash into James' thick, curly pubes. My gurgling is real, but also surreal due to the chemical coursing through my veins.

He pulls off my top, freeing my titties. James pushes my head off his dick and just says, "Titty fuck!" I cup my heavy melons and surround his dripping dick. James' hips rut into them like a schoolboy humping his pillow. I lap my tongue at the reddening tip each time it emerges from my soft flesh. My pussy burns for attention.

"Please, Jimmy. Eat my pussy. I need it."

My man hauls me up from my knees by the underarms and lowers me onto his chest. I look down at him as he asks, "Is your pussy all dirty?" Only coke can do this to him. James loses all inhibitions when he's high. I've pegged him and pissed in his mouth when he's begged for it... things we wouldn't do otherwise.

"Two small dicks, but they were big cummers," I announce, crawling the rest of the way over his excited face. James takes hold of my ass and drives my hairless vulva into his open mouth. His tongue first digs between my sloppy folds, lapping at my honey and the remnants of my day's work. Then he goes at my pussy, nibbling and sucking my clit as my climax builds.

James' oral skills are what set him apart from other guys who are well endowed. Most of them become self-involved in their own pleasure because they think women only want big dick. We do, of course, but we crave a man who will eat us through as many orgasms as we can stand. Give us a small dick and a fantastic mouth, and we will do just fine.

While I continue riding his face, James places a thumb at the tight pucker of my ass, and I grind in circles for it. He jacks his tool with his other hand, ensuring it is ready when he begs me to let him take me anally. I moan as his digit pops past the opening, and feel the onset of my orally generated climax.

"Ohhh, Jimmy!" I moan, the wash of endorphins mixing with the ebbing effects of the blow. My pussy jerks wildly on his flicking tongue. My sensations wane and I collapse on top of him.

James crawls to the side, flips to his knees and grabs my feet to orient me in line with his body. He looks to the mirror at the last lines of powder and reaches for the tube. I have the regret of being on the downside of my high, yet knowing this booster will only make James even harder and likely unable to cum. I decide to go for it and crawl beside him and snort the last line. James spanks my ass while my head fills up with the sweet hit.

James lies on his back and orders, "Get on it, Chantelle!" My stallion's dick is pointed straight up, the veins rippling with newly engorged blood. I step over him and lower my aching pussy to meet his throbbing, purple head. My hand parts my pussy lips for it, and the spongy helmet slips easily between them. I hold on to the headboard and drop my entire body weight on his hips.

When James' dick head slams into my cervix, I grunt like a weightlifter. The first stab deserves another and I rise quickly to where only his helmet stays inside me - reloading - and then falling to repeat this delicious sensation. James' eyes are rolled back while his cock receives my rut.

He takes hold of my hips to generate an even greater impact with each of my next ten thrusts; his manly fingers squeezing me like a vice. The pain is sweet - like a dozen gut punches - but muted by the mixing of the natural and man-made chemicals that inundate my brain.

Our eyes are locked as only gasps leave my lips. In one masterful feat of strength, James pins me to his root and rolls over until I lay beneath his masculine, coke-fueled form. On his knees, with my legs held firmly up his chest and feet at his shoulders, James will take me like the whore that I am. He will fuck me like he fucks no other; our eyes locked with love and his hips jack hammering with abandon.

My itch is scratched, and another orgasm washes over me, yet my man fucks, and fucks, and fucks. I am raw, and sore, and know he will need some coaxing to get off. "Oh, baby. Take my ass." James stares down at his quivering cock that is soaked in my juices, enjoying the visual delight of the ins and outs.

"Yeah!" He withdraws instantly and flips me easily over, onto my knees He forms a glob of spit in his mouth and lets it spill onto the crevice of my ass, pooling at the pink pucker of my anus. James grips his dick and dips it in the silvery glaze, then moves to invade my butt. Nothing gets James hotter than anal sex, and his thrill is just beginning.

My euphoric haze eases the usual fight against the intruder, and my right hand instinctively probes my vulva, settling into the thick puffy folds guarding my clit. James uses deep but careful strokes while adding more spit, until his girthy dick is glazed with a mix of our fluids.

His manly hands grip my hips while my fingers strum my responsive clit, sending me into my third climax. My face is buried in the pillow while James' seesaw strokes increase in speed and depth. His balls slap my fingers each time his cock slams its length far into my colon.

His eyes turn skyward, as his body responds to the delicious electricity of his powerful thrusts and cocaine-fed brain cells. "Cum inside me, Jimmy!" I beg; his assault now delivering pain, while my orgasm ebbs. My man knows his own climax is imminent and withdraws from my ass so he can finish himself off, masturbating at a furious pace.

The first of James' ejaculate explodes in a high arc over my ass cheeks and back, splattering into my neck and hair. His fist grips tightly at the base of his dick, to build pressure for the next release. The next three or four shots follow similar but lower trajectories, dappling the length of my upper and lower back with his baby batter. James slides his mushroomed cock head along my ass crevice, tickling his frenulum while his streams become a silvery flow that lubricates our sexes.

James exhausted dick softens, but not before he pushes inside the warm, gooey confines of my pussy. He rests his entire weight on me; our bodies fall to prone bone, which is no longer possible due to his flaccid cock flopping out of my cunt.

We were laid there, fulfilled blissfully; although the burning sensation at my anus would last most of the night. When we finally were able to move again, it was to cuddle and kiss. "Thank you, James," I said softly into his ear. Dinner was nice."

"Thank you, my love," he responded. "You are all I think about."

Valentines might not mean much for others, but it means a lot for Jimmy and me.

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