Thursday, November 12, 2009


Thursday, November 12, 2009
My most recent client seemed to have a mermaid fetish.

Her bedroom had a nautical theme -- blue walls, maritime paintings, a few sea shells on top of the dresser. I've never really encountered this before. Sure, plenty of women like things like candles or fluffy pillows or even a four-poster bed.

But an actual fetish based on a mythological creature? It takes a lot to surprise this whore, but the client definitely succeeded.

"So, mermaids, huh?" I asked, gently touching a sculpture to my left. It was bronze, I think, and was in fact a very nice piece. The mermaid was upright, her hand reaching out, as if reaching for the surface of the water, hoping a handsome human would pluck her out of the sea and take her away forever.

You know, assuming she could sprout legs and all that.

"My husband hates it," the client said. "Luckily, this is my own personal room. Sometimes, when he's home, I still sleep in here."

Christ. A marriage so poor that even when the husband is home he and his wife still sleep in separate rooms? Why not get a divorce and be rid of each other for good?

"That... must be nice. Having your own space and everything."

"It is. He never comes here, so don't worry about leaving any evidence behind."

What the hell? Did she think I was going to ejaculate on the walls or something? While I normally like my clients, this one was a bit... dim. Not stupid -- just not particularly sharp, either.

Still, she gave a fine blow job. And as for ejaculating on the walls, well, that wasn't a problem. Like her beloved mermaids, the client didn't mind something a little salty in her mouth. But it wasn't over then. Oh no -- that would be far too simple. I should have known the mermaid fetish was a precursor for things to come.

To make a long story short, she wanted to fuck in the bath tub, to which I had to refuse. See, all that water and bubbles and slipping and sliding can compromise the condoms I religiously use. So, we fucked in bed, after which I washed her in the tub, bubbles and all. I believe the exact scent was lavender and vanilla.

I don't want to make it sound like I hated this client. I didn't. She had great, real tits and she one of the better tasting pussies I've had the privilege of licking. The fact that I joined her inside the tub for the aforementioned washing seemed to pacify her as well.

After we departed, I entered the cab, and was treated to this little gem from the driver:

"Hey, buddy, do you know you smell like a chick?"

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