The $1200 Hooker

I look forward to your feedback on my first story

I was in Houston to view a few potential restaurant sites. I checked into Houston Marriott North about 3:00 on a Monday afternoon. Monday is a heavy business travel day as most of the business traveler's actual work happens Tuesday - Thursday. After I check in and put my luggage away I enjoy sitting in the lobby reading a book and drinking a cold beer while watching the travelers arrive.

This s a large hotel, reasonably close to the airport. The two check in lines were easily 10 deep starting at 5:00PM for more than 2 hours. Surely 90% of the travelers were the middle-aged guys that looked none-to-happy to be making yet another boring business trip to sell a few more widgets. The travelers looked as though they were resigned to being stuck in middle management or the traveling salesman wondering whatever happened to the big sale that was going to set him up for life. Both groups always chasing the next big promotion or the next big sale that was going to give them the status to be someone in their neighborhood. They could drive the German car they had lusted for as a young man. Generally they check in to their room and watch porn on TV. A few more adventurous find their way to the lobby bar were they smoke and drink the night away.

The remaining 10% are made up mostly of the younger guys who are excited to be on the road and away from the crying toddlers and complaining wife. They are certain they will be promoted. Or if they are the sales person, the company that is buying widgets will need enough to bring that big fat commission check. Their company sends them on their trip with a $75 per diem to pay for meals. So they head over to the local Chili's or TGIF for a cheap meal and then spend the rest on drinks. Returning to the hotel around midnight to get 6 hours sleep before they start their day.

There are a few female business travelers who generally dress casually, but professionally when they travel. They are well groomed with just the right amount of makeup on for the corporate world. Regardless of their age they are always pleasant to the front desk staff and tip the Bell Captains well when their bags are delivered to the rooms. Thankful that they don't have to drag luggage across the lobby and up 13 floors.

On this particular Monday all the travelers were filling the profiles true to history. All except one. She walked through the automatic doors dressed in black Under Armour fitted training pants. (I guessed her age to be 32-34) The pants fit snuggly, but not so snug as to look like she was trying to flaunt or attract attention. While her top was a loose fitting Nike brand, it was obvious that her shape would be one to behold in a two piece suit by the pool. Her New Balance cross trainer shoes completed a look that would have been functional in a kick boxing class or presentable to check into the hotel. (I admired the fact that she was not a woman that thought all of her name brands had to match. I guessed her to be a more serious gym rat than fashion queen. If she was a gym rat, she sure-as-hell kept her femininity!) The men in line behind her were admiring the view wondering if their luck would ever change.

After checking in, her path to the elevator led right past my chair. We made eye contact as she approached. With a slight smile, I nodded and lipped "Hello" as she neared me. She returned the greeting sincerely. Neither of us was trying to be anything other than cordial. Nothing was implied or expected from the small act of southern hospitality.

The check-in lines finally thinned out about 7:30. Normally I would have asked the concierge where I should have dinner. But I considered eating in the hotel as I stayed reading my book. I was halfway through one of my favorite Travis McGee novels (A Tan and Sandy Silence) by John D. MacDonald. I was not in a good place in the story to dog-ear a page. However, I still couldn't help but wonder about "Kick Boxer." She didn't fit into any of my traveler profiles. Did she fly in from out of state? Was she in town on business or in town to see an old friend? Was she a fitness instructor? Or was she traveling through town and just staying the night before traveling on? And then of course there were the thoughts of what she really looked like with out the Under Armour pants and Nike top? Guess I would be just left to ponder. Or so I thought.

When I travel I have a self-imposed 2-beer limit in the evening and I had just opened my bottle of Fiji water when I saw a tall woman sit in the grouping of chairs, 30 feet or so past my group. She was quite striking in a conservative but sexy business suit. I wondered how I had missed her. The jacket was a 2-button summer weight wool that appeared to be blended with a Lycra type material to make it a little stretchy. The skirt was made of the same material and cut 2 inches above the knee. The skirt fit her perfectly. Her white Silk blouse, with the top three buttons open, revealed beautiful tanned cleavage. Her bare legs were crossed in a way to showcase her 4½" pumps. Which looked a little too tall to be business attire. Her purse was a small black satin clutch that would maybe hold an I-phone, license, credit card and lipstick. As I studied her to such detail I realized that it was "Kick Boxer." She still had the natural healthy look of beauty that was now highlighted with a deeper shade of eye shadow and a little added blush. Her lips were not fire engine red but they were red. Now I was really curious as to where she fit into my traveler profile groups.

As she sat using her phone, we did not make eye contact. She appeared to be trading texts. Each time she was reading a text her brow became more furrowed and her shoulders would drop. Finally she audibly sighed and shoved her I-phone into her small purse. It was then that she looked up. She shook her head as we made eye contact. She held the eye contact and shook her head as she frowned as if to ask, "Now what am I going to do?"

I felt that her eye contact was an attempt to communicate with me. So it only seemed natural to me, to close my book and quizzically look at her. She rolled her eyes and shrugged her shoulders as if again she was continuing to think, "Now what am I going to do?"

In the true form of Travis McGee, I felt like it was my responsibility to offer aid. I walked the short distance to were she was seated, we maintained eye contact as I approached. (Which in a way was uncomfortable. And, in a way very sexy.) Her look of discouragement continued. When I was within speaking distance to her, I stood to the side of her chair so she wouldn't feel trapped by my presence.

"I don't mean to intrude but you looked like you may have received some not-so-good news."

"I guess. I will be ok."

"That's not exactly the air of confidence that I would have expected."

"I drove in from Killeen for a business meeting and he just cancelled. I've made this trip for nothing."

"From Killeen? Isn't that 200 miles away?"

"Yes and 3 ½ hours in a big Dodge truck that drinks gas for fun."

"Ugh, doesn't make for a good day."

I pondered what I could possibly do to make "Kick Boxer's" day any better. Out of desperation I asked, "Would allowing me to treat you to dinner begin to salvage your day?"

She looked at me with a quizzical furrowed brow look as she pondered my offer. Surely she was thinking all the things a female should think when asked to dinner by a complete stranger. It was probably only about 30 seconds but seemed like it was 2 minutes. "You know that sounds like a good idea. Where should we go?" A smile broke over her face.

As much as I wanted to suggest room service, I thought better of the idea. But it was already after 8:00 and the only good restaurants not in the hotel were about 15 miles away. By the time I changed and we got a cab it would probably be after 9:00 before we got to the restaurant.

"I've eaten at the restaurant here in the hotel. Food was really good. My steak was cooked perfectly and it's hard to screw up a baked potato."

Her eyes got big with what appeared to be sincere excitement, "Hmmm....a good piece of meat sounds good to me!"

I couldn't resist the opening that line created. I measured my comment to be suggestive but not overtly so, "Ah a woman that likes meat. That's always a good thing." I held eye contact and paused for impact.

She raised one eyebrow and tilted her head. "And I always like a good piece of meat."

I swallowed hard, "Uh, if you will give me 15 minutes I will go shave and change into some slacks. After all, you are dressed in a suit and I look like some bum you picked up in the hotel lobby."

"No need to do either. I like the rugged look of your five o'clock shadow." Then she leaned forward a little, "And I like the way your jeans hang. So let's go find a table."

She stuck out her hand, "Before we go, I don't even know your name. I am Jayden."

"And I am Jake. It's a pleasure to meet you."

(Her handshake was firm. Her hands were feminine but not overly soft. Maybe she combined weights with her Kick Boxing class.)

She asked me, "Would you mind if we sat at a table? I don't like to have to talk across the booth. At a table I can sit next to you and talk so that only you can hear me." (Now I began to wonder what she was going to say that only I should hear.)

I drank my Dewar's neat with a water back and she sipped her Grey Goose and Cranberry juice. She began to ask me all the questions that showed her genuine interest in me. She asked questions that took me all the way back to childhood and all the way up to my divorce three years ago.

Her steak was cooked perfectly and my medium rare salmon was just what I needed. She continued to lead the direction of the conversation through out dinner. As we shared some fresh berries and cheese for dessert she asked the question that is always asked, "And what do you do for fun?'

"You mean other than have dinner with beautiful women? What could possibly more fun?" My response was sincere.

Placing her hand on my leg with her fingers on the inside of my thigh, she leaned towards me and quietly asked, "You really can't imagine anything that could possibly be more fun than just having dinner?"

(Oh my God!! Is this really happening to me? My Boy-Scout concern for a person has dropped this gorgeous, articulate, sexy kick boxer into my lap. And now she is basically saying, "Let's go fuck.")

After a few seconds I lean toward her, "I know what I would like to do after dinner....." Trailing off at the end without actually answering.

"Oh do you now? And what would that be? You are going to make me guess?" She had that little smirk on her face that women have when they are playing a game, which they know that they have already won. She raised her eyebrow, "Well?"

I thought, "What the hell?" She's asking. I might as well go for broke. What's the worst that can happen? I whispered in to her ear, "I would like to take you upstairs and fuck your brains out."

After a quiet chuckle she replies, "That can probably be arranged."

("Arranged?" I thought to myself. That is an interesting choice of words for woman that wants to go fuck.)

"What kind of arrangements do I need to make?"

"Welllll....." she says in a higher pitch to suggest I should know.

"Well what? I can't read your mind. Are you going to make me beg or something?"

She leaned in very close and whispered in my ear, "No silly, you don't have to beg. You have to pay." And then she lightly kisses my ear. (How do women know that my ear is my weakness? Is there some kind of sign taped to the side of my head?)

(I am not always a Boy Scout kind of guy. I have been with my fair share of $200-an-hour hookers. Despite glowing reviews, $200 hookers are always hit or miss. Some are worth more but most of the time I walk away thinking that someday I have to stop thinking with my small head. Now I am sitting with one of the most strikingly beautiful women I have ever met and I find out she's a hooker. I can only imagine how much she will want.)

Then I have a Light bulb moment. I ask "So your canceled business appointment was a....?"

"My client? Yes he was. So, his family crisis is your good fortune."

I lean in towards her as the bus boy slowly cleans the adjacent table. "And my good fortune will cost me how much?"

She leans in again. And again she places her hand on my leg but higher up my thigh. And now her fingers are gently scratching my thigh. She exhales into my ear, "Only $1200."

I turn to face her. Our faces only 2-3 inches apart. "ONLY $1200. I will confess I have been with my share of hookers before but the most I have ever spent is $300."

"Oh really? And what did you think of your $300 piece of ass? Which was probably all over and done with in 45 minutes." (Damn she is good! This is not her first rodeo.)

She continues quietly, "I spend the night. And we won't get much sleep."

She has all but closed the sale. There is only one more objection that has to be overcome. "There's a problem. I don't walk around with $1200 in my pocket. So I guess I am out of luck."

Again she leans in close. And again her hand is reaching even further up my leg. She can't be more than ½" from my cock, "Can we go to the bank in the morning?" And then she exhales deeply into my ear again.

"You will wait until tomorrow morning? I am used to having to pay up front."

"You have forgotten how much you told me about yourself. With all that I have learned about you, I know that you won't cheat me."

I think there was a double meaning to that statement. #1. I am a nice guy that won't cheat her. #2. If I am not a nice guy, she knows so much about me she could make my life hell if she were to "out" me.

I pay the dinner tab. Fortunately my developing hard-on is down to a manageable firmness. She goes to the bell captain to retrieve a bag. She walks through the lobby having pulled my arm around her waist. Walking together like we were long lost loves, even though there is more than a twenty year different in our ages. As the elevator door slides shut, I realize that with her 4 ½" heels added to her 5'7" frame she can almost look me in the eye. Damn! I like this woman more and more!

Another couple departs the elevator on the 3rd floor and now we are alone. She looks me in the eye and nudges me back against the wall. With her left hand she begins rubbing the back of my neck, she kisses along my throat while her right hand she goes directly for my cock and begins to massage him to full attention. Fortunately my room is only on the 5th floor.

As we open the door to my room, she drops her bag into the corner. I find it odd that there is a "clunk" sound when it hits the floor. Before the door even shuts behind us we are pulling clothes off of each other as we share a long deep kiss. First her jacket goes. Then my shoes, then her blouse. (Gawd what beautiful breasts. I don't think that's a push up bra she is wearing.) Now she is unbuckling my belt with one hand and tugging down my fly with the other.

She is pushing my pants down my thighs when she notices, "Hey! You are commando?"

"Yep, I've always found it to be easier to get a blow job without wearing boxers."

She laughs, "True that!"

And that is how she starts. One of the best blow job I've ever had. I can't think of one better off the top of my head but I am over 50 so I've had more than one blow job. She is slurping and using her hand. I tightly grab a hand full of her hair in each hand and begin to fuck her face. First slow and gentle then fast and not so gentle. Damn! This girl can keep up.

I am about to blow and I can't be doing that within the first 5 minutes. I pull her up from her knees and push her on to the bed. We are staring at each other as I kick of my jeans and then take off my shirt. She is laying on the bed in her skirt, shoes and panties. At least I think she is wearing panties.

She begins to squirm and thrust an imaginary cock as I take her shoes off. I slide the zipper down the side of her skirt and begin to tug her skirt over her hips. Oh, now I see she is also commando. I look at her with the quizzical face. She replies, "Sometimes I like to have my pussy played with at dinner." Gawd I love this freak!

Now that she is completely naked. I spread her legs wide and kiss my way up her thigh. First her left thigh then her right. As I get close to the top of her right thigh she grabs my head and shoves my face in her pussy. "For God sakes! I don't want any fucking foreplay! Suck my clit and stick your finger in me!"

I want her to be happy so I don't question her demands. I am sucking her clit and fingering her pussy for ten minutes. She is getting louder. I think it's time to take her to the next level of excitement, if she is willing to take the adventure. I replace my middle finger with my thumb in her pussy. I find her ass hole with my middle finger and begin to play at the entry to her anus. She is getting louder and grinds back against my hand. That's a pretty sure sign she is ready for the next level of adventure. My middle finger is wet with her pussy juices so it easily slides right into her ass. "OOOHHHH" She cries out. I put my hand over her mouth and continue to work her with the other hand as I suck on her clit.

She is beginning to buck and squirm even more. Seemingly trying to get away from my mouth on her clit, my thumb in her pussy and my finger in her ass. But it's not time to let her escape. With my finger deep within her pussy I feel her beginning to contract around my finger. Her legs are locked straight and she is bucking even higher off the bed as I massage her G spot. She is moaning so loudly that I take a pillow and shove it in her face. I hope the other guests don't call security thinking someone is getting hurt.

She continues this bucking, squirming and moaning for at least 5 minutes and then she almost screams and yanks my hand away from her pussy and ass and pushes my head away from her clit. She is laying all sweaty and trembling on the bed.

After she catches her breath, she looks at me and asks, "Damn, who taught you that?"

"Self taught. Lot of trial. A few errors. You are more responsive to having a finger in your ass than a lot of the guys I know."

She wearily raises her head to look at me, "WHAT?? You've fingered guys in the ass?"

"Among other things." I say wondering how I was going to recover from this diarrhea of the mouth. I start to think this fuck session was good while it lasted. And she will probably still want the $1200....

"That is so FUCKING HOT. I sooo want to see a guy fuck another guy! Have you ever fucked a guy?"

Sheepishly, "Uh yeah."

"Have you ever been fucked?"

Hesitantly, "Guilty again."

"Guilty??? The only thing you are guilty of is being pleasured. Why let someone else define what is your pleasure? No law against pleasure." She thought for a moment. Almost in a whisper "You will have to tell me more about that later. Right now I want to lick my pussy juices off your face."

I kissed my way up her flat stomach realizing I had never experienced such perfection. (And to think I am only paying $1,200 for the whole night. I think I will cut back on my 401K contributions. I may want to do this on a regular basis.) She had her left hand around my shoulder, rubbing my neck. With her right hand she reached down between us and began massaging my cock. Which was quickly recovering from a brief period of inactivity.

As I began to kiss her lips, she turned my face to the right and began to lick her pussy juice from my left cheek. I offered her my right cheek that was covered with her pussy juice, which she seductively licked from my face. As she finally began to kiss me, she wraps her legs around my waist. We were in a full missionary position as I readied for entry.