Tales of a Mature Prostitute Ch. 03

I am now well into the second year of my new career and have a good number of regular clients. Many of them like to talk at length and sometimes a session ends without anything sexual taking place at all. At times I feel more like a therapist than a sex worker but I'm not qualified for such a role so I tend to offer empathy and encourage them to keep talking rather than trying to make any smart psychological intervention.

Mostly, I am a very active participant in the games my clients like to play but there are many occasions when I am required to be passive. The most common situations involve my feet and legs, and shoes and stockings. One of my regular clients likes to worship my stockinged feet and calves, stroking and licking and rubbing his cock against them, while I pretend to be oblivious of his attention, reading a book or watching TV. I have forgotten to wear panties so he gets an upskirt view as well. By the end of the session he "accidentally" cums on my feet, I chastise him and make him clean up his mess and then send him away.

With another client it is a similar feet and legs scenario but I am fully engaged and instructing him as to what I would like. I have to say that he gives a wonderful foot massage, which ends with me asking him to give me some of his "special protein enriched lotion" to keep my feet in the best possible condition.

Stocking tops and that gap of naked thigh between them and my pussy is another popular area of attention. And my bottom is never short of its admirers, as I described in my first story.

In all of these little scenes, I know there are those who would say that I am not only degrading myself but also degrading all women by allowing myself to be used as a sex object. I don't choose to frame it in such a way at all. For me, the sight of a man masturbating is a compelling vision of masculinity, and I get a powerful surge of exhilaration when it is my body that it is providing the stimulation for him to cum.

...

Once in a while, I have a new client with whom I am surprised at the outcome. One such client was "Greg". He called me and said that maybe I would benefit from a full body massage and would I like one. It was a curious choice of words but I went ahead and gave him my standard piece about non-penetration. He said that there was no need to worry because he always respected boundaries. We agreed on my fee and he booked a session with me, but something about his approach made it seem that it was me who was hiring him.

I have a regular client who also likes to give me a massage. He gives me a nice back rub, works his way to my bum and eventually cums between my thighs. With Greg, however, I suspected it would be something a little different.

When Greg arrived, the first thing he did was to take an envelope from a small leather bag he was carrying and to hand it to me, saying it was my gift. He then asked to use the bathroom and, of course, I checked that the envelope did indeed contain my fee, which it did. I realised that his visiting the bathroom was to give me the opportunity to count the money and it was clear that he wanted to control things.

He declined a drink but we sat and talked, unusually with the emphasis being very much on me. He was an attractive man, medium height and slim, probably in his early sixties, and with a soothing, deep voice. After a short while, he got around to asking if I had a problem in reaching orgasms. Despite that I have never had such problems, I somehow knew that the answer he was looking for was a "yes", so that is what I gave him.

He nodded knowingly, saying that it was very common for women in my line of work. He went on to say that his massage technique was especially designed to help cure my lack of orgasmic response and he was sure that it would be of great benefit to me.

We moved to my bedroom where I almost never entertain clients but for a full body massage I had no other option. I had prepared by spreading a large towel over the bed, setting the heating to a nice temperature and spraying the room with a soft-smelling perfume. He looked around, nodded his approval and asked me to undress. As I did so, he began to do the same, explaining that it made the job easier for him and that he didn't want to get oil on his clothes. He stripped down to a pair of blue briefs which he didn't remove. His body wasn't especially muscular but he looked very fit and toned with a light tan and little body hair.

He took a bottle of oil from his leather bag, asked me to lie face down and then straddled my hips. At first I wasn't too comfortable with the situation because it gave me very little control over what might happen. I think he sensed how I was feeling and talked about trusting him. He began with my shoulders and upper back and it was soon clear that he knew what he was doing. There was no need for me to pretend because he had the touch of an expert and somehow it did ease my concerns.

As he worked over my body, down to my lower back, then up from my feet and along my legs, inner thighs and finally my bum, he talked throughout in his lovely soothing voice which seemed to match the rhythm of his hands. I have little idea of what he said because I was getting into something of a trance, though his hands on my buttocks aroused some very sensual and erotic feelings.

The time came for me to turn over and Greg dismounted from his straddle. He took a pillow and said he wanted it under my hips. When I was arranged to his satisfaction, he half sat, half knelt on the edge of the bed by my side. He told me that he could sense a lot of sexual energy in my body and that he was going to gradually focus it and then release it. I translated this in my mind as meaning that he thought I was getting turned on and he was going to get me off. I had to hide my smile, though I had little doubt that he would succeed so I closed my eyes and let him get to work.

He didn't dwell for long on my breasts but found all those zones that seldom get attention: the sides of my waist and hips; inner thighs; lower abdomen just above the pubic bone; and the V of the creases between my thighs and tummy. I was unaware that I had parted my legs so much until his hands found my outer lips which he massaged and softly pinched for quite a while and which was especially arousing. By the time he got to my inner lips, the tip of my clit had popped out and was screaming for attention. He knew exactly where to find the magic spot (upper left quadrant, in common with many women) and with some soft pressure and slow rubbing I had my first orgasm.

I was still trembling when he asked me if he could insert a finger because it would give me another orgasm. I told him to go ahead, one of the few occasions when I have allowed penetration.

He maintained the pressure and rubbing on the side of my clit, slid a finger inside my pussy and found my G-spot. I think it is easy to find when I am in a state of arousal. He gently circled it with the tip of his finger and the pleasure was so intense that I didn't so much have a second orgasm as a continuation of the first.

I'm often asked what it feels like when I cum but I find it very difficult to describe and also it varies. Sometimes it is nice and quivery; other times, when I am really aroused, it is a full body release; and then there are the ones which are in between, such as with Greg, but I didn't tell him that.

I felt drained at the end of it all and would quite happily have fallen into a one of those lovely post orgasm sleeps but I had to remind myself that I was with a client and not a lover. I roused myself and sat up to see a very self-satisfied smile on Greg's face.

He said that he was expecting a knock on the front door from the neighbours because I had made so much noise and he asked if I realised that I had ejaculated a little. I know that I do that sometimes but I wasn't aware of it at that time. Nevertheless I pretended to be amazed and sure enough there was a very damp patch on the pillow beneath my hips.

I felt obliged to ask what I could do for him though I really didn't want to do anything more. He said that I had already done it and then stood up for me to see a damp patch on the front of his briefs. It was quite a surprise because, as far as I knew, his hands had been busy with me the whole time. He didn't seem to want to explain so I just smiled and said that it was amazing.

Before he left, Greg told me that his treatment would have opened up new passages through which my sexual energy could flow and that I would have a lot easier time in future in reaching orgasms. Of course, I thanked him profusely and left him with his fantasy. I have not seen him since and somehow imagine that he is working his way through all the other women in the area who are in my line of work.

PS – Many thanks again to all those who sent me feedback on my last story; it is much appreciated. And an extra thank you to the ladies who responded – I put great value on your interest and the thoughts you share with me.

Until next time – Gabby.