Ron Taylor: Wife on call

"I'll see you again, won't I?" she asked him, hurrying into her clothes while he watched, ten feet away.

Mr. Charles only nodded, his eyes lowered, unwilling to meet hers. She wished that just once she could go to him, kiss the shame from his mouth, fish his cock out of his shorts and guide it into the snatch he'd eaten so splendidly. She wouldn't even charge him for it. But if he didn't want it, she wouldn't force it on him. Pam dressed and she hurried out the door. There was a hundred dollars, in twenties, in her purse, and she had two more clients to meet this afternoon.

"It's the adventure," she told herself on her way to meet Mr. Ford at the Capri Lounge, a secluded bar on a quiet side street downtown. "The adventure is what I dig. The money? Who gives a shit about the money? I certainly don't." On the other hand, she had to admit, the money was a big part of it. Ever since that first day, when Richard Mason had picked her up at a hotel bar, assuming she was an expensive hooker. And today, a few months later, part of her was an expensive hooker. Of course she didn't need the money; no matter how much it thrilled her to receive it. Still… if Richard Mason hadn't given her a hundred dollars for the temporary rental of her body, she wouldn't be here today, en route to meet her third sex partner of the day.

Mr. Ford, a lawyer from Chicago, was a referral from her very first trick. This was the second time he'd booked her, and she was looking forward to a session with him. Of course, the people who might consider poor dear Mr. Charles a weirdo would go apeshit if they had a look at Mr. Ford and his bedroom desires. Not Pam/Patti.

She entered the Capri Lounge on the stroke of one, and there he was, sitting at the bar. A really handsome, distinguished-looking man, just like his friend Richard Mason. The kind of man any woman would be delighted to be seen with in public. In his early forties, she supposed, with an excellent body for his age. Flat, muscular stomach, broad shoulders, athletic legs. God! She hoped Kerry was in such good shape ten years from now! And if she had anything to say about it, he damned well would be!

They shared a couple of civilized drinks – this time didn't begin until they entered the hotel room, and it was pleasant to sip Scotch and make small talk with such a good-looking man in a public place – and his eyes glowed with anticipation. She could tell he was really up for her, turned, on by the very idea of getting into her tight panties this afternoon. Mmmm, so was she!

Everything was ready in his room. The projector was set up, the screen in place. Mr. Ford enjoyed watching porno movies, and he liked to be loved while he watched them. The first time he'd brought a six-hundred foot reel of film, containing three super 8 short subjects, spliced together. All of them featured the legendary Johnny Wadd, a California stud whose cock measured well over a foot long when it was erect (and in these movies it seemed to be little else but erect and active). He fucked a beautiful brunette, he fucked a beautiful redhead, and he fucked a beautiful blonde, all in sharp, glistening color. The movies were well produced, well-photographed, and Pam watched in fascination as Johnny Wadd drove his huge prick up the delicate-looking asshole of pretty Linda McDowell, watching even more fascinated as the lady writhed in a beautiful approximation of sexual bliss. Being cornholed was one thing. Pam had done it often enough. But being cornholed by a tool the size of a fencepost? It sent shivery flutters up and down her body and she settled eagerly onto the cock of her client, Mr. Ford, romping up and down as he fed her hungry pussy and watched the movie over her shoulder. She hoped today's movies were as good as the last batch.

She and Kerry had gone to porno films once in a while; a twin cinema at the local shopping mail features them occasionally. Those she'd always found rather boring. Most of the actors couldn't act and it seemed rather silly to be in the midst of a crowd of theater patrons watching a film of people fucking and sucking. It was so much more fun to get her husband home and relive the movie with him in the flesh.

Somehow it was different on a trick, though.

There was complete privacy, and she was bare-ass naked, just easing her cunt down upon Mr. Ford's naked, erect cock as he turned on the projector, and it all seemed so natural. Maybe she should buy Kerry a super 8 projector and half a dozen dirty movies. God! They didn't need any extra stimulation at home! They had one another, and so far, that had been more than enough! Still…

Mr. Ford sighed as he reeled his cock up her pussy. She settled down upon him easily. He had a certain procedure about this, and she didn't want to stir him up too much during the first film. What he liked was to fuck slowly for about ten minutes, after which Pam would kneel, take his dick in her mouth, and suck until he squirted. On her first date with him, he'd explained that he wished to come in unison with his hero Johnny Wadd. When Johnny Wadd spurted jism onto the face of his partner in the final movie, Mr. Ford wanted to be spurting an equally hot flow of seed into the face of his play-for-pay girl Patricia Wright. Kinky? Maybe. Fun? Yes!

A challenge, too. She'd been just a trifle slow the first time, and Johnny Wadd's cum was already flowing before Mr. Ford's pecker vomited out its river of sperm, but it was only a trifle, and apparently he wasn't dissatisfied, for he'd asked her to come back and do him again. Well, this time she'd be a lot better.

Again he had three short films spliced together on a large reel. She could expect about forty minutes of filmed fucking and sucking, and her only problem was to keep him stiff until the end of the last film.

The first movie was nice, and Pam found it reasonably erotic. A plumpish, short-legged girl with large breasts and silver-blonde hair began by masturbating herself, a finger buried in her curly-bushed twat. She wasn't extraordinarily pretty – cute was a better description – but she did an excellent job of conveying erotic arousal.

Before long she was joined by a young man whose face bore an almost satirically sullen expression. He presented the girl with a large vibrator-device and she lifted her skirt, rubbing the instrument across her burnt-gold beaver with delight showing on her face. In short order her man's pants were dropped to his knees and the girl had her hands on his cock.

The editing was abrupt and jumpy, but the message came across spectacularly. When the girl fed his cock into her mouth and began to suck, Pam felt a touch of envy building in her breast. The silver-blonde girl was extremely good, and she obviously enjoyed her work. Eyes closed rapturously, she sucked up and down the stiff, oversized cock, swallowing as much as she could take home, cheeks drawn in dramatically, her lips seeming to float up and down the man's pecker.

Pam moved slowly, erotically, on Mr. Ford's cock. He was sitting on the edge of the bed, and she was mounted on his lap, facing away from him. As she fucked up and down she reached in to add a little stimulus to her cunt and clit, but it wasn't really necessary. Mr. Ford was built beautifully. Not as thick or as long as Johnny Wadd, perhaps, but built like a man. A real man. Eight inches, and thick in proportion, he filled her cunt expertly, spreading the lips just enough to make the juices start flowing from deep inside, lubricating her sheath to help him stab further and further up it. Size-wise, he reminded her very much of her husband, and she'd never found a cock she loved as deeply, as wholeheartedly as Kerry's, but Mr. Ford was a close match.

The film continued, and she continued to ride her client as he desired, stroking his cock within her cunt in sensual pussy-shivers. On the movie screen at the far end of the room, the silver-blonde girl was being fucked and eaten in quick alternation. She and her quite willing partner shifted positions at the drop of a hat, though it was interesting to note that the girl didn't remove her turbaned scarf, nor did she do more than untie her wraparound dress. Of course, she wasn't wearing anything under the dress, so when it was untied, the lucky stud had a girl-full of goodies at his disposal, and he made use of all those goodies.