“Ain’t nuffink like a nice ‘ot cock while me girlfriend eats me.” Sally let him go only to grasp his buttocks with both hands. “Nice tight arse you got their Mike, Rach, you have ‘is pants down girl while I ‘ave a good feel.”
Rachel did as she was instructed, before Robert had time to do much else, she had his button undone and was yanking his Chino’s and pants down around his ankles.
“Fucking hell Sal! You should see this mother!” Her eyes, now only a few inches away from his cock, looked almost saucer sized as she took his length in. With no more thought, she opened her mouth and sucked his head in.
Sally was also kneeling and had worked her way around from behind him to see what all the fuss was about. Most of his cock was in Rachel’s mouth, but enough to give her an idea that he wasn’t small in the penile department, was showing.
“Oh! He’s shaved as well, we done it right this time Rach.”
They shared the sucking duties, swapping him from mouth to mouth between kissing each other, rubbing exposed tongues as they poked out between their lips.
He had to call a halt after a few minutes, not wanting to unload all too soon, even into willing mouths.
The girls picked up their drinks and walked into the living room. I short order, they had divested themselves of clothing and had each snorted a line, something Robert had never wanted to get into, but allowed that some people enjoyed the recreational side of drugs.
He sipped a coke with ice in it while he watched the girls go at it. They kissed and explored, tongues darting as nimble fingers manipulated. Then Sally went down on Rachel, sucking her clit into her mouth while fingering her wetness. Soon one finger was joined by another, then another until she had managed to slip all four fingers into Rachel’s body. It was only a matter of time and lubrication, until her whole hand, up to the wrist was disappearing. Rachel’s head thrashed from side to side in obvious ecstasy, culminating in a loud squeal as she came with a gush of amber fluid.
The roles were reversed, but Sally, being somewhat smaller than Rachel, could only take three fingers of Rachel’s hand. It didn’t matter though, the result was the same, Sally reached her orgasm loudly, yelling, fit to bring the cops.
The evening finished with the two in a sixty nine position while Robert fucked Sally’s arse, exactly as she had demanded. Rachel licked his spend off of Sally as it oozed from her crack. His function complete, Robert eventually extricated himself and found a cab home exhausted and a hundred pounds better off than he had expected to be.
Robert’s next assignment found him in the clutches of an old woman after what had been a pleasant afternoon in Brighton, taking tea in a quaint little tea shop in the lanes. There was nothing he could do for her, even his libido had scruples and a woman, fast approaching octogenarianism, was a step too far for him. That she had money and seemed to be fascinated by his youth and virility didn’t help. He let her down as gently as he could, not wanting to hurt her feelings, but realising that, once offered, there was no way to say no without crushing her. His mistake though, was lying when he said he wasn’t feeling too well. She came back for another crack at him a few days later, stating her interest in him and that she thought she might be in love.
The money would have been handy, but Robert, even though he was up for hire to anyone with the money, just was so appalled that he was almost physically sick. She eventually took the hint after several phone calls that ended with her cursing him as she slammed the receiver down.
In fact, Robert’s next few assignments and remainder of the month were best forgotten. It was as if his luck had completely deserted him. Each woman who called his advertised number, carried more than enough baggage or something else, equally unattractive. He began to think that it had all been beginners luck until Elizabeth called.
Elizabeth turned out to be married, had been for many years to a successful businessman who took little interest in her affairs. Elizabeth was what is popularly known as a “trophy wife”, someone to show off to his rivals and colleagues alike. In her late twenties, she was stunningly beautiful, an ex model, well educated and articulate. Her dress sense unerringly flattered and highlighted her attributes. Robert felt a small flutter when they met to discuss terms.
She was to travel to Paris to take in a fashion show, a social event on her calendar. Although she wasn’t in the industry any more, she liked to keep abreast of the trends and had many friends who still peddled their ankles on the catwalk.
He was to meet her at Waterloo Station, bring enough clothes for an extended weekend and make sure he had something presentable to wear. Elizabeth was quite precise about the arrangements and demonstrated an orderly mind that paid attention to detail. His ticket for the Euro-Star Train would arrive in the post the day before. If it did indeed arrive, it was his signal that the date was on, if it didn’t, she would advance him something on account as a retainer in case his services were needed at some future date.
The rest of the week passed quite slowly, Robert’s anticipation grew exponentially as the days ticked off until Saturday. Then, at last, the day arrived and found Robert waiting at the top of the stairs that led down to the Euro-Star platforms. The board showed destinations to Brussels, Lille and Paris. He had his ticket, standard class return to Paris tucked into the inside pocket of his blazer. He had chosen slacks, a linen shirt and the tan coloured jacket with deck shoes.
He saw her emerging from the tube station staircase. She was head and shoulders above most of her fellow travellers, her height turning several heads and then her looks causing a second glance of appreciation. She wore a simple ‘A’ line, light blue dress that came to just above her knee. She wore very little jewellery, apart from a gold pendant at her throat and short drop earrings that sparkled as they caught the light.
Elizabeth smiled briefly, almost efficiently, like recognition of his presence, but without wishing anyone else to know that she had detected him. Her hand shot out and met his in a perfunctory hand shake, all business like and impersonal, as much as skin contract can be.
Robert felt a small tremor of thrill and opened his mouth to say hello, but she beat him to the drop.
“Hello Robert, we will dispense with the pseudonym, you look like a Robert, nothing like a Michael.” She looked at him steadily and then said. “We had better get going. That is, if you are still on for the weekend.” Her smile was automatic, sliding across her mouth, but not reaching her eyes.
“Yes of course…” Elizabeth had already begun to move towards the step down to the reception and checking in desk. She was travelling first class. Separate carriages then. Robert wasn’t quite sure how he felt about that, but had the distinct feeling that he was no more than the hired help. He had time to think about it on the two and a half hours it took to get to Guard De Nord station in France. He was the hired help, little more than the status of a pet, he should have expected that, but wasn’t used to slipping into a subservient role.