Impersonating Brianne Ch. 02

For the first time since she started speaking, Marissa turned and looked at Alan. She expected him to have an expression of revulsion. That was how she felt about herself. But he didn't. There was a sad look in his eyes. Empathic.

They say that joy shared is multiplied and that burdens shared are divided. Marissa thought that was a load of crap. Since graduating from college, she had learned to be self-sufficient. To never count on anyone other than herself. It made her quite the loner. She equated independence with isolation.

Alan's eyes showed her a different message. His eyes were tearing up along with hers. His touch reassured her. In an odd way, he strengthened her and sought to share her pain.

"Laurie's quite the saleswoman. She told me that if I went to work for her, she would only get me the best jobs and the best money." Marissa carefully watched Alan. She wanted to know how he felt about her being with other men. "And she was right. I quit my temp job and I've been with her for four years now. They money is great. The men she sends me are upper class and discreet."

But is it worth it?Marissa thought to herself.

"Do you think about quitting?" Alan asked softly.

"Every day." Her voice was bitter, and not because of Alan.

"Why don't you?"

"Let me ask you something, Alan," Marissa said. "You've been teaching for how long? Eight years and you're up to what? Associate professor? How much do you make in a year?"

He thought for a moment. "From the university alone . . . about fifty-five thousand."

Marissa flashed him a sardonic smile. "I can make that in a month if I want. I have before."

"It's a good thing my parents left me all that money when they died, then," Alan flashed her the same smile, but there was something different about his gaze. Tenderness.

It struck her just then that he was going to be paying her almost half of his annual salary for the past week. And that didn't count all the expense or trouble he had gone through just for her. Marissa had never felt guilty about taking a client's money before. Most of her patrons could afford it. But then again, Alan wasn't 'most patrons'. She didn't feel anything but loathing for most of the men she serviced.

She and Alan stared at each other for a moment. She thought he was about to say something, but instead he just looked into her eyes. Their conversation took all of her guards down. He knew more about her than she had told anyone.

In telling him about her past, Marissa was forced to confront things—hard, ugly things—about herself. Things she took no pride in. A past that was checkered with whoring and rationalising. She had sold everything about herself, including her soul. Just the thought of that made her uncomfortable.

Why am I letting him in?Marissa thought to herself.If I wasn't worthy of him before, I sure as hell am not now.

Alan reached over and brushed the tears out of her eyes.

"What are you thinking about?" he whispered.

Marissa took a deep breath. "How much I want you inside me right now."

He pulled her close and kissed her. It was a warm, sensual, loving kiss. Marissa melted into his arms.

It was all she could do not to rip his clothes off. If the steering wheel weren't in the way, she might have. She pulled back. "Get in the back seat."

Both of them practically vaulted over the bucket seats into the back of the convertible. Marissa pushed Alan down into the center of the reach bench seat. Alan tugged at his khakis and pushed them down to his ankles while Marissa struggled to get her panties off.

Alan's cock wasn't limp and it stiffened in her grasp. She stroked him a couple of times and then took it in her mouth.

She swirled her tongue around his head. He threw his head back and moaned. Alan reached for her breasts but she pushed his hands away.

Her head bobbed up and down on his cock until he was hard. Then she threw her leg across his lap and sat down.

In one swift motion, Alan was inside her. He put his hands on her hips and she slowly began to ride his cock.

"You fit perfectly," she whispered in his ear.

"I'll bet you say that to all the guys," Alan replied teasingly and bit her neck gently.

Marissa smiled as Alan's hands roamed her body. His hands cupped her breasts. Even through the thin fabric of her sundress, his touch was tender and loving.

"No, Alan, I've never told anyone that before," she said, sinking all the way down on his cock. Her pussy was slick and his cock was warm inside her.

"Marissa." When he spoke her name, there was a serious tone to his voice. She pulled back and looked him in the eyes. There was a combination of fear, desire and hope on his face. "Am I just another job for you?"

Her mouth fell open, unable to respond. She tried valiantly to form the words, but couldn't. There were a million things she wanted—no,needed—to say, but they just wouldn't come out. Her confused emotions were overloaded.

The tears came.

She tried to hold them back, but they would not be contained. Not any longer.

Alan pulled her to him. Marissa buried her face in his shoulder and started to sob. Five years of buried pain, sublimated humiliation, and everything else that went along with whoring came to the surface and poured out of her.

He held her as the sobs wracked her body. Alan's strong arms enveloped her in a warm embrace. She felt safe there, with this man who, a week ago, was barely more than a stranger.

Whispering comfortingly in her ear, Alan stroked her hair as she cried. She gasped for breath and wiped the tears and running mascara from her eyes.

All the while, Alan's steady touch was there for her.

Through the tears, Marissa looked down at him. There were tears in his own eyes. The face gazing back at her was a man in pain. A pain different from her own, but no less intense. It took her a minute to realise why he was crying too. He was hurting because she was hurting.

Empathy.

Having deadened herself to the emotion, Marissa didn't immediately recognise why Alan would hold her so tenderly as she broke down.

When it finally hit her, she was overcome with emotion again. This time, though, it wasn't anger or self-loathing, it was desire.

Marissa leaned over and kissed Alan hard. She started to grind her hips against him. Her heightened emotions also heightened the sensitivity of her touch.

Her pussy burned with lust. She squeezed Alan's cock and it sprang back to life, filling her up.

Their tongues dueled and she bit his lip.

Alan's hands went to her ass, which was bouncing up and down on his lap at a feverish pace.

Marissa pressed her clit against the base of Alan's cock and her toes started their familiar tingle.

She threw her head back and let out a throaty growl.

Taking him by the hair, Marissa pulled Alan forward and into her bosom. He nibbled greedily along the valley between her breasts. She was tempted to strip out of the sundress so he could pay proper attention to her tits, but settled for riding him. Long. Slow. Hard.

Her desire controlled her.

Her feelings consumed her.

Forgetting about everything that kept her life in order, Marissa surrendered herself to Alan. Her lover.

Underneath him, Alan began to thrust upwards. His hips met hers and they both let out satisfied moans.

"Oh, god," she whispered. She pushed him back against the seat and pressed her lips to his.

"I'm about to cum," Alan managed to gasp.

"Yes, Alan!" she cried out. "Cum inside me . . . cum inside me, please!"

"Oh, fuck." His hands tensed on her hips. He pushed into her one final time. "Oh! I'm cumming . . . I'm cumming . . . Marissa . . . I'm—"

Hearing her name from his lips sent her over the edge. Her pussy erupted with a warm flood. A torrent of emotion washed over her.

She felt Alan's cock pulsing inside her, filling her with his seed. She held on to him as her own orgasm overpowered her already drained body.

As the last vestiges of the sun dropped behind the mountains, Marissa let out a delicious, rapturous, glorious scream.

She cried out and it seemed to echo back from the hills.

Finally, she slumped forward, Alan's limp cock still inside her. Her arms were around his neck.

She gasped for breath.

All the while, Alan held her. There was a comforting promise to his touch. A promise that he would never let her go.

And all she had to do was let herself fall for him.

They held each other for a long time. It didn't matter that they were out in the middle of nowhere. It didn't matter that he was a widower missing his late wife. It didn't matter that she was a whore who had lost all of her self-respect.

The only thing each cared about was that they had someone in their arms who cared about them..

As this day ended, Marissa could only feel that at the next sunrise, the new day would bring something better.

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Yes, there will be a part 3.