The Hand Job Girl

(I was recently doing some carpentry work at an escort agency. As I was retiling a floor in one of the attendant's rooms, I came across a diary of sorts. It was twenty pages long, but seeing as how I was on lunch and getting bored, I decided to read it. It was the true story of an escort who loved her work as a hand job specialist. I made a photo copy of it at the desk so that I could share it with you. Enjoy!!!!!)

"Just one more," Harold said, acting as though it were nothing he was asking of me.

I sighed. Everything with that damn Harold was 'just one more.'

Well fuck him! I had plans.

"I'm going home to have a warm bath," I informed him sternly. "Then I'm pouring myself a good stiff drink and hopping into bed. Then I'm going to curl up with a good book. I must have seen at least a dozen men today!"

"Only seven," he spat back, showing his true colors as a damn bean counter. He then frowned, and gave me his 'you must feel guilty for turning me down' look.

"Yeah, well whether twelve or seven, I told you when I started that I don't want to jerk off more than four men a day. It's been over two years now and I've never had less than six. I also told you I wanted part time work only, three days per week. I've been working five days since I started."

I got up, grabbed my purse out of the corner, and began to stride wearily for the large stained glass double doors that housed the sacred inner sanctum of the city's top sensual spa. With a catalogue of over fifty super-hot looking women, and a reputation for satisfying every desire and every fetish, the spa really was the last word in where men could experience a heart stopping orgasm with their fantasy dream girl.

And it was all perfectly legal of course. All the girls had to remember was to remind men that the envelopes stuffed with cash were simply a 'donation' for 'time spent with them' and not payment for sexual services rendered. Until the courts decided to redefine the issue, and broaden the scope of the word prostitution, then escort services like 'Angels At Your Service' would continue to flourish and rake in the big bucks.

All the girls at the spa made the same per customer, and that was exactly two thirds of the take, if it was at the spa, or half of the take if it was at a client's home.

Men paid a hundred and twenty for half an hour, and two and twenty for a full hour, reasonable by escort standards, especially since all of us women here had supermodel looks, and seductive skills that could cause steam to percolate out of any man's ears. Girls at the spa tended to specialize. Some would give body to body Nuru massages. Others would engage in BDSM. Other's still offered heart stopping blow jobs or straight humping. Some girls offered to perform a little of each to occupy a man's valuable time.

There were six black women, twelve Asians and thirty-two whites among the fifty women in the spa's spectacular catalogue. Most were slim, curvy, big breasted and simply drop dead gorgeous. I was black, but I was also one of the five full figured women on staff. We five had a lot of extra weight, but it was all in the right places. Some men had a real fetish for full figured women. The ones that loved full figured black ones, would always ask for me.

I didn't mind doing anything a guy would ask me to do, although I was known as the hand job girl. I specialized in keeping a man's cock super hard and super attentive to my skillful fingers. Sometimes I would include my firm black boobs in working on a man's cock. Sometimes I would even tantalize the tip of his erection with a brush of my pretty painted lips or a lick from my sensual tongue. In the end, no matter how good guys were at holding out, they would always succumb to my amazing talents at forcing an orgasm precisely at that moment when their paid for time was about to expire. Some of the men were generous, and left tips. Tips were something that a girl got to keep all for herself, and so the more wealthy guys were always fought over fiercely. I had an advantage in that guys desiring hand jobs or full figured black women, were always sent to me. Still, being the only hand job specialist and the only big black chick did have its downside. It meant that I was expected to take any and all sessions, and not go home till the last guy was serviced. I did get weekends off, but that was only because Holly, a very pretty, big breasted and equally large black college student, was trying to put herself through med school and so would gladly work Saturdays and Sundays as the resident oversized hand job girl.

"You walk through that door without attending to the last guy and I'm telling Thelma."

I stopped dead in my tracks over his threat. Everyone knew that Thelma was the real owner of 'Angels at Your Service.' We also knew that she was really anal and maniacal about turning men away. Competition among the spas was fierce and extremely competitive. We weren't the only super-hot women in town, and giant, firm boobs, pretty painted mouths, and succulent mouth-watering bum cheeks were only good if you were going to actually use them.

I sighed at his veiled but ominous threat. I averaged seven hundred a day plus tips. All cash. At five days that meant I generally cleared four grand a week. There were other hot looking black babes out there with fingertips, lips and boobs just as sexy and skilled as mine. If Thelma did decide I couldn't handle all the full figured hand job trade by myself, then she was bound to hire a second girl, and a second girl would cut my salary in half.

"Fine, I'll take him," I blurted out. "Just give me two minutes to get freshened up."

I passed under the hot water shower for about a minute, rinsing off any sticky cum off my hands and arms from the last couple of guys. They had been real volatile shooters, with one of them plastering my boobs as well.

I pat dried quickly, then took some mouthwash, not wanting my breath to smell immediately of cock, then I refreshed the glossy pink sheen on my succulent thick black lips.

Next I fluffed my hair, and sprayed on a little perfume.

Finally, I poured some lube on my hands and rubbed it onto my boobs, ass and hands. Saving time would mean I could leave all the earlier.

Guys wanting hand jobs usually asked for the full hour, especially those that had been with me before. They knew I would give them a wicked mind blowing tease. What would normally only take their own hands five minutes to achieve, I was easily able to stretch into an hour of absolutely mind blowing paradise. An orgasm from my hands was ten times as sweet and intense as an orgasm from their own hands.

When it came to a client's appearance, I was used to seeing a wide range of men. Usually the men were older but sometimes you got some young ones mixed in there too. Some were fat like me, and some were ugly. But about half of them were actually good looking. Some were so good looking in fact, that it used to stun me they thought they had to pay for it. But then my fellow escorts would remind me that a lot of the men we serviced were actually married. Some were engaged. Some also had psychological issues where they mistakenly had a low opinion of themselves. What it all meant, was that we were providing, in some cases, an essential service.

I checked the wall clock. I had never been this late before. I sighed.

I decided right there and then that I would force him, whoever he was, to reach orgasm a half hour earlier, but keep his whole hour's worth of money. All the men were told upfront that the spa wasn't responsible to refund money if a guy happened to reach climax before his time was up, and if he couldn't get hard again.

My pretty long painted nails began to do the rap-tappity-tap off the table. I was getting impatient. Just where the hell was this guy? But then it dawned on me that perhaps he was still taking off his clothes and taking his time in folding them neatly. Although I wondered how long it would take a horny man to strip down if he knew a gorgeous black babe like myself was just dying to get my soft, skilful hands onto his large hard cock. That is, if it was indeed gonna be a large hard one.

I much preferred guys with larger cocks. They really turned me on, and the harder they were, was the easier they were to tease with my nipples, tongue, fingers, ass, and hands. Sometimes, if the guy had a foot fetish, I would even use my toes and feet to help supplement my all inclusive jerking.

Finally he showed up, and when he did, he took my breath away. He was a very tall, very muscular, very handsome white guy, and very well endowed. He had let the towel slip off him halfway into the room, and his foot long meaty white pole made me absolutely burn with lust at the sight of it. This is one guy that I absolutely would have done for free, he was just that damn good looking and sexy.

His rippling abs made my mouth water and his round, curvy bum was so fabulous I almost passed out from the sheer exquisite sight of it. He was a lot hotter than any damn mag cover male model I'd ever seen. I really had to wonder why a guy like that was paying for anything. If anyone was getting paid to fuck, it should be him.

"How do you want me?"

His words just kind of sailed off my back. I was so fucking mesmerized by his stunning looks that I processed his question too slowly. He asked it again.

"On my back, or on my stomach."

"Definitely on your back," I whispered in awe, anxious to keep my horny eyes glued to his amazing rippling abs.

I poured out more lube onto my hands then rubbed them together as he lay down.

I yanked the towel up off the ground that had fallen from his waist.

I ran my hands along his chest, then his stomach, oiling it up.

I poured more lube onto his chest. He was simply amazing, beyond dreamy. I was very glad I had decided to stay and take him on. He was the finest hunk of man I had ever seen in my entire life.

I took my time rubbing down his chest and stomach, making it shine and glisten under the ceiling light.

I then rubbed lots of lube on my bum, thighs and pussy.

I also soaked my large black boobs in it, till the lube was literally dripping off of them.

Then I sat on the table over top of him, with my legs kneeling on either side.

I lowered my breasts onto his chest and let my stiff nipples rub back and forth across his musculature.

My bum stayed on top of his giant erection, and I let his cock run in between my bum cheeks, turning us both on wildly.

I slowly and carefully kept rising and falling along the length of his cock with my bum cheeks, careful to keep him away from my pussy. I only wanted to tease his cock, I didn't want it to inadvertently slip inside of me.

After about five minutes, I turned my body completely around, and let my oiled up breasts squish playfully up and down along his stomach while my fingers toyed with his cock, massaging and jerking it slowly and carefully.

He reached up with his mouth and latched onto my slippery pussy. The electricity was immediate and stunning. I hadn't expected him to do that, and before I knew what had happened, he was sucking on my clitoris, and sending me spiralling into a heart stopping orgasm that was far too good to be true.

I closed my eyes and curled my toes. The pleasure was simply too exquisite to believe.

It was easily the greatest orgasm I had ever had, which was saying a lot, because I had had some real earth shattering ones as a hand job girl.

He suddenly glided backwards, pulling his slippery body away until his cock was now directly under my quivering, exploding pussy.

Before I knew what had happened, his cock was inside of me, which was a definite no-no because he wasn't even wearing a condom.

I wanted to push him away, but I was just too blown away by how absolutely fucking sweet his thick, long cock was inside of me. Thoughts of him getting me pregnant, or perhaps having some nasty STD, now rattled around my brain, but I was no longer in possession of any willpower. I was gushing ejaculate for the second time in as many minutes, and moaning my approval at rising to the pinnacle of such a heart stopping second orgasm.

He was at the edge of the table, and he reached round my sides to clasp my breasts, squeezing them so they might anchor him in not falling off the table edge. His mouth pressed against my neck and cheeks. I turned my head behind me, straining my neck so that our mouths could press together.

My knees were still squatting on either side of him, and I began to rise and fall over the full length of his amazing cock.

A part of me was in a full blown panic. An unwanted pregnancy or a career ending STD was no joke, but the ecstasy was simply too riveting to back away from.

I curled my toes in sweet anguish once more. Both his giant cock and my tantalized pussy were coated with gooey lube, and the slip sliding sensations had me perpetually heaven bound while in his muscular arms.

I was shocked at the turn of events. What was supposed to have unfolded as me being the aggressor in giving him a teasing and fun hand job, had quickly developed into him humping me fast and furiously with an escalating bliss that was all consuming and irresistible.

I kept my neck strained behind me, and my thick black lips pressed against his hot, steamy mouth as the wicked glides continued.

A glance at his blue eyes told me he was enraptured with my body, and fascinated with my giant breasts that were melting in his hands.

He sat up and his muscles and abs were pressed hard into my back. I felt as helpless as I did blown away by the heart thumping pleasure.

Still, my mind was awash with the harsh realities of letting the humping session continue. I was not on the pill, and I couldn't imagine allowing myself to be filled with his baby making semen. As sweet as it was, I simply had to back off, if even for a few moments to regain my composure. I was supposed to be working hard at getting him to explode in my hands, or onto my breasts, or even onto my glossy lips, but not deep inside of me where a resulting baby could be possible.

I twisted my body to the side, let one of my legs slip off the table, then used my foot on the marble tile to anchor myself. I pressed upward and he slipped out of me, then I turned and slipped my hands underneath his head and shoulders, not wanting him to fall backwards.

I pushed him back along the length of the table, and the lube on the leather allowed his body to glide forward easily.

I knelt back on the table with my knees on either side of his head, and lowered my pussy onto his face. He sucked on it ravenously, causing me to moan.

Then I lowered my breasts onto his rippling stomach, gliding back and forth to turn both of us on.

Next, I let my lips tease his cock head as my right hand gripped his erection loosely, jerking up and down the shaft as we both moaned savagely.

The room began to spin as his ultra-skilled tongue worked my clitoris into an absolute frenzy.

I shivered with gushing ecstasy as his white hands reached around my sides and clutched my tantalized black breasts.

I was astonished at just how sweet his tongue and lips could be.

I was now desperate to reciprocate the pleasure rifling throughout my body. What was he, a magician? We had barely started and already I could feel my body building in rhythm to a third earth shattering orgasm.

I groaned wildly, but managed to keep my hands like pumping iron on his steel hard cock.

I was soon working myself up into a frenzy, dumping more lube onto his cock and letting my encircled fingers glide up and down it like some mad woman, determined to make him explode in my hands.

I kept on jerking him feverishly for the next half hour, absolutely amazed that I was failing to force him to reach orgasm. Normally, putting such pressure on a man would do the trick after a mere five or ten minutes. But the gentleman underneath me was just as stubborn as superman.

I lowered my lips onto his cock and sucked on it ferociously.

My glossy, slippery lips seemed to stir him into some pretty heavy moaning, but still he hung on, not exploding, despite the fact his chest was heaving up and down with unfettered ecstasy. He was out of his mind with glorious pleasure, but his balls were holding on to his elusive semen.

The ten minute warning light went on, letting me know that his session was coming to an end and that the spa would be closing very shortly. It was time to wind things up.

I let my fierce, ultra-sweet sucking continue for another five minutes, then I simply stopped sucking, and threw in the towel.

"I'm sorry," I said as I rolled my lips off of him. It's closing time. We'll have to go."

His chest was still heaving up and down at the wicked ecstasy. "You're supposed to finish me off first," he complained.

"I know. Normally I can make any man climax at will, even multiple times if I want, but you are the first man I've ever met that has the willpower and stamina to outlast my hands and lips."

"Your pussy really had my cock going," he informed me. "Had you of let me continue in your pussy for even a minute longer, I would have exploded."

"I'm not on the pill," I told him. "I don't want a baby."

The red phone rang next to her. She sighed. It was undoubtedly Harold at the front desk calling to say that he was locking up and that we would have to get moving.

I picked it up. "Hi Harold."

"Hi right back at you. Listen. We're locking up. Thought you would have been out fifteen minutes ago. He only paid for forty-five minutes, you know."

"Really. I thought it was an hour. Anyways, we'll be right out."

"You're not being fair," the hunky, gorgeous client spat out. "Your services promise satisfaction guaranteed. You can't just leave me dangling like this. My balls are swimming with cum just desperate to be released. If you're not going to finish me off then I want a refund."

I stared at him incredulously. I had worked on him twice as hard as any male client in my entire life. It wasn't my fault he had the amazing willpower to hold out. Still, he had a point. I had teased him into a frenzy, and to leave him dangling and unsatisfied would be very cruel and unprofessional.

There was no way I could let him demand a refund from Harold. Thelma would be bound to hear back and I would look as though I was losing my touch.

"Tell you what," I offered, managing a smile. "I'll put on a condom and let you have ten minutes underneath me, thrusting up into my pussy. If you can't explode by then, well, you won't ask for a refund, deal?"

"Sounds reasonable to me," he blurted out, suddenly grinning from ear to ear.

I rang the front desk. "Harold? Can you give me ten more minutes?"

I heard him chuckle. "First you didn't even want to take the guy, now you're begging for more time with him? Fine, ten minutes more. But don't ask for more time after that. I have a late night appointment and I can't be late."

"Thanks."

I hung up then walked over to the dresser and yanked open the drawer they kept the condoms and lube in. Lots of lube, but they were out of condoms. Just empty boxes left.

"Just give me a minute," I said to the client.

"Call me Steve."

"Fine, Steve. I'm just going to dash into one of the other rooms and fetch a condom. I'll be right back."

I scurried out of the room and tried the doors to two other rooms. Both were locked. I guessed that Harold must have locked them up already.

I scampered back into the room and swung the door shut behind me. Eight minutes left.

"Can't find a condom?"

I shrugged. "That's right."

He eyed me carefully. Then he spoke, his eyes sparkling with sincerity. "Look, I'm Disease free. And as for knocking you up, if you climb on top of me, and let us do it bareback, I promise not to spill it inside of you, a deal?"