Paul and Paula – Her Story 02 by Kalimaxos..,
This story is the property of the writer Kalimaxos. Any unauthorized reproduction or reprint without the author’s express authorization is strictly prohibited.
It is the story of Paula and spans close to twelve years in Paula’s life. 1983 to 2005. And the story is a prequel. Read to the end to see more information where the story continues by the original author.
My characters are often flawed, and like real life, my stories are a shitshow, like life.
One more thing, you are on an erotica site reading smut. The last thing we need to hear is your morals and judgementalism. What are you doing here reading smut then trashing the writers, and characters on moral grounds? How “moral” is that?
I moderate comments. Make any derogatory or violent comments, lie about the story content to influence readers, or give me a lecture on morality, and your comment is gone.
You need to read part 01 first. it’s complicated.
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Part II
Work is rewarding… in one way or another
Jacksonville, FL 1997
As I drove back to work from the hotel, it was hard to wipe that grin Brandon had placed on my pretty face. ‘My first’ was such a pleasure. He had not been good when we first met. The great came in time. But unlike some men who think “they are all that” and need not expand their skills, Brandon had become one of the best lovers I ever had. And so long as he stayed that way, I always found room for him on my busy schedule.
The rest of the afternoon went pretty quick as I had a house showing for a middle-aged couple. The wife seemed bossy and remote to the husband. Just the way I liked them as customers. When I had a minute alone with the man, I passed him my card with my personal email.
“Contact me,” I said, looking intently into his eyes. “I’ll make it worth your while if you convince her to buy. You can tell her you talked me down two grand from the price I offered. Are you interested?”
Giving up two thousand bucks on the signing price was nothing, considering how much the sale was. My offer was already thirty grand over what the sellers wanted. Why so much? Because the wife had gone googoo-gaga over the place as soon as they saw it and I had made a judgment call,
Customers like them were what I lived for. A wife who didn’t care how much the mortgage would be just to have the palace she deserved. And a husband who looked… starved. And I don’t mean food-wise. Hubby could stand to lose twenty pounds. What I meant was sexually starved.
I knew this sale was most likely to happen from the smile he gave me after the surprise wore off. And my cut of the deal would add to my already fat company account.
How I secured that sale is rather droll and inconsequential in the grand scheme of things. Rest assured that the husband did contact me the next day. We did get together for an hour of horizontal dancing at a local hotel. And much to my disappointment, I found out why his missus was not impressed with him.
To say that guy was lacking in skill and endowment would be an understatement. But then I thought of Brandon and how well he performed with what he had and came to two conclusions. First, this man lacked imagination and the will to improve his game; even after giving him a couple of pointers. Second, despite fifteen years of marriage, his wife had not taken the time to teach him how to be better.
But I had the sale, and my association with them was over after the signing. That was all I wanted with some men – a successful business deal. If some sex had to be placed on the negotiating table for that to happen, it did. And if the man happened to be a handsome hunk that piqued my interest, I went that extra mile to add icing to the cake of life.
Regrettably, not all potential buyers were hunks. But you see, I love sex. I crave and need it. So having sex to further my career may be an issue for some, but not for me. In my view, my looks and willingness to have sex with clients or business associates is but a tool to get ahead.
Yes, I could play the morality game some do, but then I would, for one, miss out on a lot of fun, and two, not amass the wealth I intend to accumulate. Call me whatever you will, but I think life is too short to hold back on its pleasures or opportunities. I only have one life, and I will not waste my good years, then have misgivings or, worse… regrets.
Feel free to judge me. Meanwhile, I am having a ball and getting rich.
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My safe and comfortable…
Jacksonville, FL 1997
I thought of that on my way home that early evening. My husband Paul had arrived home in time to start dinner. After a kiss, hug, and exchanges of “I love you,” I had gone to change and returned in time to help set the table.
“How was your day, dear?” he asked as he usually did.
“Productive,” I replied. “The buyers made an offer on the Estemarie Lane property.”
“Did they haggle much?”
“A bit. Enough to save face,” I replied in between bites of lemon-grilled catfish. “Oh Paul, this is really good. You outdid yourself. Is that a hint of garlic?”
“Nothing gets past you,” my husband replied in his usual calm tone.
Always calm and collected, my Paul is – never showing an ounce of emotion. I can’t even remember the last time he had shown any anger, jealousy, frustration, or lost control over anything.
“How about your day?” I ask out of obligation, as the answer will be the same as other days.
“Nothing new in the public relations world.”
Of course not. Why would anything be engaging in a safe and uneventful job? But then what man in his prime gave up being an investigative reporter and settled for a monotonous secure job?
But that’s my Paul. A good man to be married to, have a family and raise children with. He was and still is good-looking. More so than average. Not with the IQ I am blessed with, but still, quite intelligent.
“I’ll tell the kids to come down,” I said and went to check on our boy and girl upstairs.
The rest of the evening was filled with the usual family stuff. While we ate, our kids ignored each other initially before taking swipes at one another. You know the standard fare with siblings vying for their parents’ primary child favor. Paul and I gave each other knowing looks, letting our son and daughter have their say, then setting them straight.
Then there was homework, which we parents checked. Eventually, it was bedtime for us all. Paul and I watched some TV for an hour to give the kids time to go to sleep then checked on them before returning to the sanctity of our bedroom.
And in the fashion of most married couples, we had sex. No. Not just sex. We made love. Gentle and easy. Typically, slow and… mundane love. Still, as I always cum from intercourse, I came from Paul’s fucking and finished him off with my mouth, just the way we had started.
That was our routine. I started Paul off with my mouth. Then he reciprocated by going down on me. I made sure he did not cum. There had been a time I would make him cum first with my mouth, giving him time to recuperate when he ate me. Then he would last longer when he was in me. But as the years passed, Paul had changed.