The (Fat and) Happy Hooker Ch. 02

"Well kids," I said, pushing back from the table with a satisfied sigh, "can I assume you have a room in this joint?"

Of course, they did. So Jacob paid, cash, leaving two hundred dollar bills on the table to cover a one hundred forty dollar ticket, a 40 percent tip, I liked that, and we headed up to their room.

Well, their suite.

We were on the 14th floor and the view across Denver with the mountains in the background was spectacular.

They were standing there, just inside the door, looking at me speculatively.

I chuckled.

"Okay," I said, "let's start with basics. First," and I held the silence for a few seconds, "kiss," I said, I hoped dramatically.

They kissed about like you'd expect a married-for-a-long-time couple to kiss.

"Oh God," I said, probably louder than I intended. "STOP!"

They broke apart and looked at me.

"Okay," I said, moving up and taking his right hand in my left and her left hand in my right, "some basic ground rules."

They both nodded.

"First," I said, looking at each of them in turn, "when you hear 'I love you' you say it back, okay?"

They both nodded.

I stepped forward and kissed Jacob lightly and said "I love you."

He said nothing and I slapped him, not hard enough to damage but hard enough to sting.

"Oh," he said, "you included yourself."

I smiled and kissed him again, a light brush of the lips, and said "I love you."

"And I love you," he said, holding my eyes.

I smiled and turned to Marta.

I could see a bit of redness in her eyes and knew my gummi was working its magic.

I took a step and kissed her lightly and said "I love you."

She smiled and said, "I love you too."

I kissed her again, more firmly this time.

I broke the kiss with Marta and said "now watch."

I turned to Jacob and gave him a full-on kiss. I started with his face between my palms and the kiss started with a light brushing of lips. I increased the pressure, my tongue flicking out and touching his, then lightly tracing his lips. When I felt him responding my arms went around him and I arched my back, molding my body to his, my breasts pressing against him, my belly pressing against him, my pussy pressed against him.

His response was actually very good, but then again he had been a client of mine for a year and I would expect him to know how to kiss.

I broke the kiss, a little breathless, and turned to Marta.

As I had with Jacob, I took her face between my palms, and as I moved closer I said "I love you." I was pleased when she responded, with no hesitation, "I love you too."

The kiss was gentle at first, as I had with Jacob, and soon our tongues were fencing. When I felt her respond I brought her into an embrace and let my hands roam, starting at her shoulders and slowly working down until I cupped her ass and pulled her to me. I was surprised, pleasantly, when she mirrored my movement.

Again I broke the kiss and this time I stepped back.

"Okay kids," I said, grinning, "now show Mandy how you kiss."

They did it better this time. There was still a hint of awkwardness but I figured between my magic edibles and my professional expertise we'd get through that.

When they broke the kiss they hesitated, looking at each other.

"Say it," I said.

"I love you," Jacob said and Marta kissed him, hard this time, and said "I love you too," when she broke the kiss.

"VERY GOOD!" I said with a grin.

They sort of jerked and I wondered if, caught up in the moment, they hadn't forgotten I was there.

"Again," I said.

"I love you," Marta said and Jacob took her into his arms with real passion this time. I could see there was nothing held back on his part but Marta was still, well, not necessarily "holding back" but she wasn't fully into it yet.

When they broke the kiss I stood, went to them, and tapped Marta on the shoulder.

"Sit," I said, pointing to the chair I had been using.

She didn't move and so I slapped her, just as I had Jacob earlier. Not hard enough to leave a bruise, but hard enough to get her attention.

Her hand went to her face and I saw a flash of anger in her eyes. I took that as a good sign.

I caught her hands in mine and stepped closer.

"You hired me to do a job honey," I said, and kissed her, "now cooperate."

I saw the anger leave her eyes and she smiled.

I was surprised when she kissed me.

"Yes ma'am," she said and giggled.

Which made me think, but I let her sit.

Then I went to Jacob.

"This," I said, turning to Marta, "is how you should kiss your husband. Not just once in a while, but every time. I don't care if there's someone else there or not. Hell, I don't care if you're at mom and dad's for Hannukah or whatever. This is how you kiss your husband."

She nodded and watched. Her eyes, I noticed, were a little shiny.

I turned to Jacob.

"I love you," I said and he said "I love you too," and kissed me.

This time I gave him the full-on, yes-I'm-a-whore-and-worth-what-you're-paying kiss.

I wrapped both arms around his neck and pulled him to me, my mouth covering his, my tongue seeking. My right leg came up, pushing my pussy hard against him while I molded my body to his. I held the kiss, the fingers of my left hand entwining in his hair, not letting him break it.

I was rewarded, as I expected to be, by feeling his erection build against me.

I held that kiss, my body pushing against his, my hips working, liking his response, the way his hands were on my back now, moving up and down, finding the line of my bra and cupping the roundness of my ass, pulling me against him.

When I broke the kiss we were both a little breathless.

I turned and looked at Marta who was a little flushed.

I crooked my finger in that universal "come here" gesture and she came.

Then I turned to Jacob and said "now you sit."

Both of their eyes got a little bigger but he went and sat.

I smiled at her and said, "now you kiss me like I was Jacob."

In my line of work, you meet all kinds. I had female clients who liked to be with a, you know, a "butch dyke" who would take the male role. So I knew how. Hell, I had practiced it after my first woman "femme" client because on some level I found it kind of fun.

"I love you," I said.

"I love you too," she said and kissed me.

It was a good kiss. Not the best but better than I expected.

Her tongue found mine and her fingers entwined in my hair as I had done with Jacob.

When she pressed her body to mine I could feel her softness against mine and it felt good.

She tensed a bit when my hands started exploring her back, tracing the line of her obviously heavy-duty bra, but when I cupped her ass and pulled her to me the reaction was pure woman and I felt her hips pressing against me, the round mound of her sex against my thigh.

When I broke the kiss she let out a quiet whimper and when our eyes met and I said "I love you," she kissed me with almost desperation and said, "God help me, I love you too."

Okay, I was a little breathless too.

I beckoned Jacob and he came. I could see in his eyes that he was excited and wondering what was next. The faint whiff of womanscent from Marta told me I was definitely getting to her.

I kissed him and said, "I love you." He responded properly.

"Now Jacob," I said, "I think I need to work with Marta a bit on the inhibition thing so why don't you get yourself a beer from the honor bar, get whatever Marta likes, and I'll take one of the tequila shots. Actually, I've changed my mind, bring two tequila shots."

Marta looked at me with big eyes.

As Jacob went into the kitchen area of the suite, it wasn't really another room, I smiled at Marta. "He's a good guy and I like you, so prepare yourself from some inhibition destruction."

She giggled, that little girl giggle again.

"Oh God, Mandy," she said, looking up at me, "I'm scared."

I laughed.

"No need honey, I won't bite," I said and then flashed my best evil grin, "well, not too hard anyway."

Her eyes got big but before she could say anything else Jacob was back with the shots some salt and, wonder of wonders, two lime slices on a little tray.

"You beautiful man you," I said, kissing him.

Then I turned to Marta.

"Ever shot tequila, honey?" I asked.

"No," she said, in a very small voice.

"Observe," I said, and licked the web between my thumb and forefinger, poured a little salt on it, licked the salt, tossed back the tequila shot, and bit into the lime.

I grinned.

"Nothing to it," I said.

"I'm not much of a hard liquor drinker," she said.

I flashed that evil grin again.

"Do you want a spanking while Jacob watches?" I asked.

Her eyes got bigger and then she did the salt, shot, lime thing and put the glass down a little harder than necessary.

I grinned.

"Good girl," I said.

Then to Jacob, "now sit honey, and observe how a woman should be disrobed."

He grinned and sat, taking his beer with him.

I turned to Marta and looked at her for a moment, holding her gaze as I stepped closer.

I kissed her, one of those good hard kisses, and she kissed back.

I stepped back and put a little distance between us and undid the top button of her blouse.

Then I reached up with my left hand and entwined my fingers in her hair, gently pulling her head back, and softly kissed the hollow of her throat that I had exposed.

The little catch in her breath told me I was getting to her.

I undid the next two buttons exposing the tops of her breasts, pale and blue-veined, in the heaviest duty white cotton bra I had ever seen. Jesus, this thing could have been used to lift things in a factory.

I kissed the skin I had exposed, lightly, tracing the line of that ridiculous bra with my tongue.

Her fingers found my hair now, holding me to her.

I undid the remaining three buttons on the blouse and tugged it free of her skirt, then reached up and pulled it down from her shoulders, capturing her arms when I did so.

I had lied earlier.

I bent, holding her arms captured behind her, and bit each of her breasts where the skin was exposed.

Well, "bit" is too strong a word. I "nipped," drawing soft little yelps from her.

I had inspected the way her skirt was buttoned earlier, I am, after all, a professional.

I held her arms behind her with my right hand while my left found the button and zipper on her hip and unbuttoned and unzipped.

The skirt dropped and I finally released her arms, allowing the blouse to join the skirt on the floor.

I took a step back and winked a Jacob. I had positioned us so that Marta's back was to him, and used my hand, doing that two fingers under the chin thing that all men seem to learn in about the third grade but I had trained myself to do and lifted her head until her eyes met mine.

"Baby," I said, holding her gaze, "what the fuck. You have yourself locked up like a fucking bank vault. Jesus Christ, no matter how much your husband loves you, by the time he gets through all of this he's too fucking exhausted to care anymore."

I used deliberately crude language to emphasize my point.

"But this is how," she started and I cut her off with a slap, this one harder, leaving her cheek red and bringing a flash of anger to her eyes.

I stepped in quickly, grabbing her hair with my left hand while my right lay right where I had slapped her, my nose about one inch from hers.

"You wanted my help," I said, my teeth gritted.

Okay, here's the thing. What separates me from my competition is that most of the people, mostly women but there are some men, in my profession make the mistake of thinking it's all about sex. I had figured out, early on, that about 80 percent of what I do is acting. Another 10 percent is counseling. The 10 percent that is sex is, I like to think, memorable sex.

Anyway, right then I was acting, and I thought pretty damn well.

I heard Jacob say "hey" and the squeak of the leather couch as he started to stand.

I kept my left hand in her hair as I pointed in my best, most imperious, most dominatrix posture and pointed at him, my index finger straight out, and said "sit the fuck down or I'm out of here."

He froze in a half-standing posture, and our eyes met.

"What's it gonna be Jake?" I asked, "you want some excitement at home, or are you going to be happy with the weekend a month you spend with me while wifey keeps herself all locked up."

He held that silly position, half-standing, for a few seconds and then sat back down, smiling, and took a drink of his beer.

With that little scene played out I turned my attention back to Marta.

"Marta," I said, not shortening her name but not releasing her hair either, "I don't give a shit what your mama or your gramma or your rabbi or whoever the fuck told you to dress like this said. They were right if you want to be a good Jewish wife with that four hours of begging foreplay you joked about. But if you want to, using your words now, 'satisfy' your husband and be satisfied by him then you need to fucking listen to me and not give me your idiotic excuses."

She looked up, meeting my eyes again.

"Please Mandy," she said, very very softly, "help us."

I grinned and kissed her, adding a soft little kiss to where her cheek was red and sore.

"Now," I said, releasing her and taking a step back, "this has got to end."

The "this" was how she was dressed.

And yes, she was fully dressed still even with the skirt and blouse laying on the floor at her feet.

That bra I had felt earlier was a full eight inches wide, requiring seven hooks to close it in the back, white, heavy, and utterly opaque.

That left only about three inches of skin exposed between the bra and an honest-to-God panty girdle that covered her from above her navel to three inches down her thighs. Her hose were opaque as well, a tan color. Her shoes made me think of the word "brogans."

I looked and thought for a minute.

It was interesting that she started to blush under my gaze.

"Okay," I said, moving to her and taking her shoulders in my hands.

"I love you," I said and she responded with "I love you too."

I kissed her.

She kissed back.

"Now," I said still holding her with her back to Jacob. In my peripheral vision, I could see him watching.

"I am going to find some music on the radio and when I tell you too you are going to do a striptease for your husband," I said.

Her eyes got a little big.

"Do you know what that is?" I asked.

"I think so," she said in that small voice.

I grinned.

"Don't just undress honey," I said, "make it a show."

"Annndddd," I added, drawing the word out, "do not turn around until I tell you to."

I smiled at Jacob who was watching intently.

I went to the radio and found a station I knew well. Their specialty was "torch songs" and I figured Peggy Lee or Julie London would be the ideal music.

As luck would have it there was a commercial on, letting everyone know what was showing at the Cineplex.

I motioned for Jacob to stand up and then undressed him.

I was quick about it. Not making it foreplay, just getting his clothes off of him.

He had, at 52, the classic "dad bod." His broad shoulders showed the high school swimmer he had once been, and the slight beer belly showed the man he was now. I did bend and kiss the head of his penis, a little stub when it was soft as it was now although I knew, from experience, that it would swell nicely, making him certainly adequate if not huge.

Then I sat him on the couch and went back to Marta.

"You've never done anything like this before?" I asked.

She just shook her head.

As luck would have it, Dinah Washington came on doing her slow, jazzy version of "Is You Is Or Is You Ain't My Baby," that strong backbeat easy to follow.

"Okay," I said, "feet apart a bit."

She moved her feet to about shoulder width.

"Now," I said, "pick up the beat in just your hips, nothing else moves."

She started sort of swaying as I watched and I realized that those foundation garments would make a true strip tease impossible.

"Stop," I said and moved to her.

"Hold still now," I said as I started working on that ridiculous bra. 7 hooks later I pulled the straps, giggling a little as she held her arms tight against her body to, presumably, retain some modesty.

"Seriously?" I said, giving the bra a firm tug, pulling it loose.

She was large breasted, a legitimate D cup, with breasts that had fallen. Her areolas were very dark and large, easily three inches across, with large nipples centered on them. As I looked the areolas started to tighten, raising distinct love bumps, and forming cones for her nipples to sit atop.

"Nice," I said, smiling.

"If you like saggy and droopy," she said.

I smiled.

"Many men do honey," I said.

Then I went to work on her panty girdle, kind of wishing I had a sharp knife to cut the damn thing off. In the end, I managed although it was a chore.

In her panties and pantyhose, Jesus this woman DID lock herself up, her round mons veneris, that Mound of Venus of her sex was prominent.

So I worked them off too.

Naked, she actually looked pretty damn good.

Her shoulders were broad, I later found out she had been a gymnast too, her breasts were heavy, she retained at least a hint of a waist although their son showed in her stretch marks on her belly.

The delta of her pubic hair was curly and thick and very black. There was a faint tracery of stretch marks disappearing into that tangled thatch. Her full outer lips were pushed out slightly where her thighs met. I guessed her at about 40, making her about 10 years Jacob's junior which, as I understood Jewish culture, was about right.

"Okay honey," I said, kissing her softly, "now let your hips pick up the rhythm."

By now, Dinah Washington was done and Lena Horn was doing "Stormy Weather," a much slower song with those faster choruses.

"Feet apart," I said and she resumed her stance.

"Hands behind your head now, fingers interlaced," I directed.

She assumed that pose and it did good things for her figure, lifting her breasts and helping her waist.

"Now," I said, stepping close and putting my hands on her shoulders, "pick up the rhythm but just your hips."

She started swaying and I squeezed her shoulders, saying, "just the hips."

It took her several seconds to get the idea but I think it's pretty much genetic with women. She was still now from the waist up and her hips were swaying. She got the beat and her hips would kind of snap to the side each time the bass drum sounded. As she got into the dance, and I assume my gummies and the tequila helped, she started looking pretty good.

I could tell Jacob agreed with me. His eyes didn't leave her.

The music wound down and then came Barbra Streisand's My Man. "Okay honey," I said, "keep up your dance, turn, face your husband, and then get on all fours and crawl to him but hold the beat. Get those lovely tits moving."

Her eyes got big but then she smiled, got her hips moving, and slowly turned to face Jacob, his interest obvious from the way his dick was sticking out.

She was actually pretty graceful as she lowered herself to all fours and began crawling to him, her head up, back arched, ass moving in time with the music, and her breasts swaying.

I moved ahead of her and got to my knees beside Jacob to greet her.

"Kiss his feet, honey," I said, "softly, gently, let him know how much you love him."

I watched as she kissed each foot, softly and gently.

"Now put your chin on his knees and meet his eyes," I said.

She did. She smiled. He smiled back.

"Tell him you love him," I said.

"I love you," she said.

"I love you," he said.

"Now look at his cock," I said.

She looked.

"Isn't it beautiful?" I asked.

"Beautiful," she said.

"Kiss it," I said.

She leaned forward, opened her mouth, and took him.