Off The Shoulder

I'm normally an office rat, but, every few months, they let me out of my cage. Conferences, seminars, symposia, I had no clue what the difference was, to be honest. You sat and listened to presentations from industry peers. Or had to endure blatant sales pitches from vendors and consulting companies masquerading as helpful case studies. Infomercials is what they were. Sometimes, like this week, I gave a talk myself. I wondered if the audience found my sessions as boring as I did other people's.

You were meant to network, of course. Then I'd never been good at that type of thing. I'd gravitate to the same handful of people I already knew; slightly jaded regulars like me. I know I'm not selling this. On the positive side, it got me away from my desk. Away from the job I had been doing for fifteen years, pretty much in the same exact way. Let's say that my career had peaked early, shall we?

Speaking of networking, some attendees took this aspect very seriously. Put a bunch of middle aged people, maybe not overly burdened with excitement in their personal lives, in a hotel together, with easy access to alcohol, and infidelity is going to be rife. On top of that, there were generally a few working girls around. It must have been like shooting fish in a barrel for them. I sometimes wondered if there were also male escorts at these events. Not every female delegate, and there were more each year, was going to want to swim in the pool of forty- or fifty-something, male middle managers. I'd also heard stories of hotel staff providing additional services to guests.

A lot of stuff was going on and more than once I had been forced to listen to banging headboards and poorly suppressed screams coming from adjoining rooms.

That had not been for me. Not that I hadn't been tempted; I had needs too. But I had been married, to my High School sweetheart as it happens, and had always fought off thoughts of cheating. It had been hard sometimes, but I had been a faithful husband.

Had was the operative word in all of those statements. I was now living in an Airbnb, while the divorce was being finalized. We'd not been able to have children. That had both been a stressor and removed the glue that had kept many a fractured marriage together. But, as I assumed was normally the case, it wasn't simply one thing. No affairs for either of us, at least as far as I knew. Just a slow accumulation of scar tissue that smothered our previous feelings for each other. What do they say? As time goes by it's harder to delight each other, and easier to disappoint.

As for being faithful? The last conference had been a couple of months ago; post-separation. It was at the same venue as now, just a short flight from my new home. When one of the call girls had sat down and asked me to buy her a drink, instead of politely declining, I'd said sure. She was a lovely, willowy brunette, with a beautiful face. I guessed she was in her mid-twenties. She said her name was Alexa, and I found out that her oral skills were pretty special, and her pussy surprisingly tight. Not that I had a lot of women to compare to. I'd lost my virginity to an older girl, one who had something of a reputation for notching up cherries. Then it had been just Helen, only Helen.

I was upset of course; I had moved out only weeks before. Maybe I was trying to get revenge; though it's hard to say on whom or for what. Helen and I had both agreed that we were over, it wasn't anyone's fault. Perhaps I was making up for lost time. Whatever my motivations, as Alexa knelt in front of me, and pulled my cock out, I felt something. Not just her soft lips caressing my shaft, but maybe a Band Aid being ripped off psychologically.

It was day one of the conference, and I guess the organizers hadn't exactly been inundated with pitches for talks. As a result, I had been given a plenary slot. It had gone well, there was even a ripple of applause when I finished. A couple of the afternoon presenters had been mildly interesting, but I had other things on my mind. Specifically, would Alexa be there?

I had been a flustered first-timer after we had fucked. If I'm honest, I'd had a hard time suppressing tears as I looked at my nude torso in the restroom afterwards; a filled condom taunting me from the open waste basket; another load in Alexa's stomach. She had more business to conduct, and I didn't have the presence of mind to ask for her contact details. I'd tried different escort sites, but couldn't find her. A search for Alexa brought up very different girls.

I'd been reduced to just trawling through pages of photos, hoping to stumble across her. While I never did, I instead managed to arrange to meet with a couple of other girls who took my eye. The second had asked me if I wanted anal. It was an extra $100, but I had always wanted to try. Helen was never receptive, just one more sliver of scar tissue. The girl had been so tight, and I had loved stretching her. But, mid-sodomy, I had imagined it was Alexa's ass I was pounding instead. A therapist might have suggested that I was looking for a surrogate Helen. I'd probably have told them to go fuck themselves, but I also knew it was true.

Now I was back at the same hotel. I hoped it was Alexa's regular patch. It was a long shot, I knew. There were two other business hotels in the vicinity, and more in the neighboring downtown area. I'd been at the bar for an hour and a half now, making my two bourbons last. I had had other girls come and talk to me, including a rather inebriated woman whose talk I had earlier attended. I said I was waiting for someone, true in a way, but we exchanged virtual business cards, nevertheless. She was cute enough for her age and it's good to have a fallback plan.

I was staring into my drink, swirling it around my glass, and thinking of gazing into Alexa's hazel eyes as I pumped semen into her mouth. Then she sat down next to me. Not Alexa, a smaller girl, and platinum blonde, with her hair scraped back in a ponytail. She said hi and asked me how my evening was going. Something about her voice caught my attention. It was maybe its sonorous depth, and the disparity with her petite body.

"Hi, I'm Andy. Can I buy you a drink?"

This was odd. I was pretty sure that she wasn't a delegate. I'd have put her in her early twenties at most, not the normal age bracket. Neither were her clothes exactly standard business attire. So she must be a professional. Then why didn't I wait for her to ask for a drink? That was the normal start of negotiations. That's how the game was played.

"Sure, Andy. I'm Emma. I'll have what you are having."

"A bourbon? Are you sure?"

I guess that was sexist of me. She put her head on one side and adopted a quizzical look, as if to say really? I quickly ordered her a drink, and another for me. Alexa seemed to be a no show, but this girl was interesting. She was short, her legs barely reached the footrest of the barstool. She wore heavy makeup, dark eyeliner, long mascara pasted eyelashes, bronze eyeshadow. Her eyes were large and of an indeterminate color; as different light caught them, they seemed to change from pale green to light blue-gray. Her lips were a study in scarlet, and her cheekbones accentuated by blusher. Layers of foundation couldn't quite conceal her freckles. The overall effect was coquettish, perhaps even slightly devilish. Then lot of the working girls went for that look.

Our drinks arrived, and we clinked glasses. She took a gulp and shook her head.

"That's strong."

She didn't seem too put off, however, and took a second, if more conservative, sip.

Emma was wearing a stretchy, red boob tube in some shiny material, this wasn't exactly my area of expertise. It clung to her, leaving little to the imagination. She wasn't the most well-endowed of girls, Alexa's breasts were much fuller, but her small tits complemented her petite frame. The shape of her nipples was very visible, and I found myself thinking about sucking on them. Her midriff was bare, and a diamond twinkled the dark recesses of her navel. Under a very short, burgundy, leather skirt she wore black fishnets. As she sat cross-legged, I could see the tops of them, and a little pale flesh above. Again my thoughts wandered to my tongue on her skin. Black stilettos completed her look.

I realized that my eyes had been traversing her. Flipping upwards a little guiltily, I saw her smiling at me. Her grin was crooked, suggesting she knew full well what had been on my mind. She was maybe not the prettiest girl I had spoken to that evening, but there was definitely something about her. Small talk was never my thing, so I went with something neutral.

"So, Emma, are you from round here?"

"Not really, you might say that we are new in town."

"We?" I asked curiously.

Maybe I had misjudged things.

"Do you have a boyfriend?"

Again the crooked smile, as if there was some joke that only she was aware of.

"No. No boyfriend. But I'm with someone. My... counterpart. Yes counterpart. That's Lily. We used to work together. Well maybe together is the wrong way of putting it, we worked at the same place. But we certainly got fired together. And, as we don't know anyone else in this town, it seemed to make sense to hang out. I guess you could say we are each seeking employment."

"Employment? Well I might be able to help with that."

It was a weak line, but I have to admit that the idea of Emma and her friend sounded pretty good to me. That would scratch another of my long suppressed itches.

"So where is your friend? Lily, right? Is she as pretty as you?"

Again, what a cliché! But Emma didn't seem too bothered by my stilted conversation.

"She's here. She's a little shy. Is it OK if we go over to her? She doesn't like to be too public."

I said sure, and Emma hopped off the stool and beckoned me to follow her to a low-lit cubicle lying next to the wall. It had leather seats and a table. I was polite enough to let her lead the way. For a skinny girl, she had a lovely bubble butt, and I enjoyed how it moved as she walked. I saw just the outline of her friend as I stood and said hi. But it was not until Emma and I had sat down opposite Lily that I could take a better look. I was a little surprised, but tried to be polite. To be honest, I was thinking about scratching yet another itch, and could feel my heart racing as a result.

"I'm Andy. Pleased to meet you, Lily. Are... are you two sisters?... or cousins?..."

Lily was backlit, and it created a halo around her loose, mid-length hair. This was dirty blonde and had a slight wave. She seemed to be wearing no cosmetics and her freckles stood out, even in the dim light. Her face was more moon-shaped than her friend's, or was that just a result of Emma's makeup? Lily had the identical, slightly strange, eye color as Emma, but her attire was much more modest. A white shirt, with full-length sleeves and buttoned to the top. I thought I had glimpsed blue jeans before I sat down.

Once you got past the superficial, the girls did indeed look like close relations. Hell they could have been identical twins. I tried to calm my growing excitement.

Lily spoke for the first time. Where Emma's tone was deeper than her size might suggest, Lily's voice tinkled. It was not so much that she spoke in a high register, as the light musicality of it. If Emma brought an oboe to mind, Lily speaking was reminiscent of a softly plucked harp.

"No, not sisters. Not really. We aren't related. But you might say we are connected. We complement each other I guess."

"OK."

I probably sounded a little confused, and a lot incredulous, but what the Hell!

"So Emma tells me you girls are looking for work. What line of business are you in?"

Emma answered this time.

"Well, we used to be... advisors. We had a... client and helped her when she had decisions to make. We would offer our opinions. Lay out alternatives. Sort of a brainstorming service, I guess."

Lily continued.

"But the... consultancy who employed us made us... redundant. And so here we are."

"So you are looking for advisory business?"

It was hard for me not to sound deflated.

Lily replied again in her sweet, mellifluous, almost innocent, voice.

"Oh, no. We are looking to fuck people for money. Didn't Emma explain?"

Given we now had a clear understanding, agreeing terms went pretty easily. The girls were not unreasonable in their monetary demands. Indeed, the two of them were not much more than what many individual girls wanted for their services; not that I said as much to them. As to the services, nothing seemed to be ruled out, though maybe Emma was quicker to say yes than Lily. To be honest, that made me want Lily more; men can be such perverse creatures. Overall, I felt like a kid in a candy store. I had bought Emma a second drink and Lily a first -- a Pinot Grigio -- which had lubricated negotiations. Now I left for my room, having agreed to meet them there in twenty minutes, after I had showered.

I sat in an armchair, another bourbon in my hand and with just a hotel robe wrapped around me. My heart felt like it was about to burst through my rib cage, and I was already rock hard under the toweling material. I wanted to stroke my cock, but I also wanted to wait for the girls. I kept my desire under control. Then the buzzer rang.

I opened the door using the security latch. I was horny as hell, but you still need to be careful. It was just the girls, Emma looking much the taller in her heels, Lily in flats. Emma carried a bag and glanced at it while speaking.

"Just a few bits and pieces, we thought you might like."

I let them in, placing a kiss on each cheek. I was struck how differently they smelled. Lily of jasmine and orange blossom. Emma of musk and sandalwood. Emma took the lead again.

"Do you have somewhere we could change?"

"Of course, but I'm keen to, you know, get going."

She slipped her hand inside my robe and quickly found my cock.

"What do we have here?"

Dropping the bag, she undid my robe, knelt down, and took my cock in her mouth, swallowing it balls deep in one fluid motion. She raised her big eyes to meet mine and, pulling back two inches, sunk back down again, repeating this five times, eyes focused on mine the entire time. Alexa had been good, but Emma was out of this world. It was all I could do to not cum immediately. She pulled off of me with both the pop of a vacuum being broken and a satisfied look.

"I love cock. Now let us get changed. It will be worth it, trust me."

Lily had been silent, but now joined the conversation.

"And when we get back, I promise to do exactly the same to you before we do anything else, OK?"

Emma was as hot as fuck, but I craved Lilly's virginal aura even more.

"OK. It's a deal, but don't take too long."

I searched the minibar, as much as a distraction as anything else, and found bourbon for Emma and me, some sort of white wine I had never heard of for Lily. As I poured the drinks, I heard the internal door click, and the girls returned.

Saying my jaw hit the floor would be to conflate extreme amazement with physical impossibility, but it felt like that. I could feel my cock throb and twitch at just the sight of the two of them.

Lily was a vision in white. A diaphanous white bra, her nipples clearly showing through the lace panels. A matching, white garter belt holding up sheer white stockings inside white stilettos. She wore a sparkling tiara, which looked for all the World like it was studded with diamonds, but they were fake, surely. It was like an advert for high-end bridal lingerie had come to life. Then I noticed her panties. White of course and lacy, matching the rest of her clothing. But crotchless and framing a smooth, pink, hairless pussy. She span for me and I could see her butt-crack was also uncovered. She had a just as gorgeous a bubble butt as Emma.

While Lily looked like my fevered imaginings of perfection, the transformation of Emma was even more striking. She was encased a bright red, full-body catsuit, clinging to every curve of her tiny frame. It was sleeveless and with narrow shoulder straps, plunging at the front to reveal the sides of her modest breasts. Her calves were encased in knee-high black leather boots, with heels matching Lily's for height. Her suit was also crotchless and backless. Their pussies looked as identical as most of their other features.

Again, Emma spoke first.

"Worth the wait?"

I nodded dumbstruck.

"We often give the client a show first. Would you like that?"

Frankly, if Emma had said they normally hung the client out of the window by his dick to start, I would have acceded.

"But I think that Lily has a promise to fulfill first."

Lily smiled at me and took up her position on the floor. I threw my robe to one side and stood naked and achingly stiff. Lily held the base of my cock gently and steered the tip into her open mouth. Like Emma, she proceeded to take my full length, but she did it oh so slowly. The suction and feel of her tongue and throat caressing me was heavenly. She too maintained eye contact unblinkingly as she bobbed leisurely up and down my shaft. It was way too much. Four strokes in, I grabbed her head, and thrust deeply into her as my cock exploded cum straight into her throat.

Lily sucked and sucked and sucked, calmly, collectedly. Draining me of every drop of semen. She then pulled back, and left me still quivering, still erect; as if I had swallowed an entire box of Cialis. She smiled, almost demurely at me, her eyes now slightly downcast as if embarrassed by what she had done. Her cheeks had been pale, but now they glowed. I hoped with arousal.

"That was nice, but now it's showtime. Please take a seat. Emma, want to show him what you have?"

Emma rummaged in the bag and brought out what looked like tack for a horse at first. I then realized it was a harness in black leather, which she proceeded to fasten to herself. When all the buckles were tight, it sat over here mound, just above her naked pussy. She then retrieved something else from the bag. Something long and thick and shiny red. She slotted it into the harness and stood proudly, an improbably large dildo strapped to her, putting my own cock to shame.

"Maybe you would like to try this later, Andy. But ladies first. Let me show you just how much of a nasty anal whore Lily really is."

Emma pulled a pillow off of the bed and threw it on the floor. With serpentine grace, she lowered herself on to it and lay supine, her artificial cock looking even bigger, now being vertical. She turned her head and addressed me.

"There was a time when I would have had to tie Lily up for this, for any form of sex really. Then she got a taste for it, didn't you, angel?"

Lily was very interested in a spot on the floor just below her, gazing intently at it, hands clasped in front of her. She swayed slightly, giving off a vibe of youthful innocence. I had to remind myself that my sperm were currently doing the backstroke in her gut.

"Maybe just a little, Emma."

Her voice was quiet, her manner shy. But, despite the pretense, I could sense something more. Was it hunger?

"A little!"

Emma laughed.

"She started begging for it, Andy. Isn't that right, you little slut?"

Without raising her eyes, Lily replied.

"Yes, mistress. I'm your little slut now."

Emma grinned lasciviously, maybe even evilly.

"That's my good little bitch, now get on it, and ride!"

Lilly obediently stood over Emma. She reached back, parted her butt-cheeks, and then bent her knees, holding her torso upright. Emma moved the dildo into exactly the right position. Then both girls looked straight at me. They spoke in total unison, their different voice's harmonizing.