"I'm telling you, this house is haunted!"
The client's eyes shifted from left to right, as if a ghost might appear if she wasn't careful. As for me, well, I was standing there naked like a right idiot. True, I haven't put in my time with Torchwood or the cast of Ghost Hunters, but the house seemed normal enough to me.
"Can't you feel it? There's something strange about this place," she continued. "I hear these noises in the middle of the night. A few times it was just my husband's snoring, but other times..."
"I'm sure it's just the feeling of being in a new house," I said. "Miami is a strange city, especially from someone who just came from Kansas City."
"Hmm? Oh, yes. Well, Miami is really lovely this time of year, actually. I certainly don't miss the winter, and neither does my husband. My sister and her husband, God, they're still shoveling snow I think--"
"Shall we get started?" I asked. "I mean... I'm sorry, I don't want to be rude, but if you just want to talk I can put my clothes back on."
The client blushed so hard her face looked like a fire truck. I really wasn't trying to be a smart ass, but sometimes I have to take the dominant role. Given the opportunity, some clients will run their mouths until the hour is over, then try to negotiate a quick fuck before I leave without paying extra.
"We can start slow, if you like." I crawled into bed with her, then kissed her on the mouth before making a trail along her neck and collar bone. Women love this -- the idea of a man doing nothing but tasting their flesh with his lips and tongue. And taste I did, my taste buds catching the slightest hint of Coco Butter.
"You moisturize," I said, whispering in her ear. "Your skin tastes good."
"I try..." She trailed off as I slipped my right hand across the small of her back, letting my fingers knead into the flesh as my other hand stroked in the inside of her thigh. Still kissing her, I let my hands travel up her abdomen and over her breasts, until I gently pushed her down on her back.
"What now?" she asked.
I smirked. "Just wait."
I took her clothes off garment by garment, then laid them down beside the bed. She tried to get up, but I gently led her back down. I then did what I like to call "lips to lips", meaning I kissed her mouth, then her breasts, then her abdomen, until I was working with that other set of lips.
"Jesus Christ," she said, and almost convulsed. "God... don't stop."
"Are you sure?" I said. "Because I can do something else."
"No, just--"
"Trust me."
I licked her one last time, then let my middle and index fingers slid inside of her. I moved them lightly at first, teasing her with little flicks and turns. As for my left hand, well, I pressed it down on her abdomen and at the same time, moved both my fingers forward inside of her.
She cried out in response. Eyes shut tightly, she gripped her breasts and cradled them as I continued fingering her. I assume she had an orgasm, especially after she let go of her breasts and swung her arms wildly, nearly knocking over a lamp in the process.
"We're not finished," I said. "Assuming you want more."
The client was beyond words. Instead, she reached forward and yanked me by my cock as if I was a... well... something that's accustomed to being yanked by its genitals. I barely had time to get the condom on before I penetrated her in one smooth thrust. And what did the client have to say?"
"Oh... Oh... Oh FUCK!"
All right, this one really needed it. I pinned her down by the shoulders, pressed my mouth against hers and pumped in and out like my life depended on it. In and out, a few circular motions, slow then fast then slow again. Grabbing my ass, the client pushed me inside of her even in further, resulting in a climax for us both.
We lay in bed for a few minutes after. After showering, I dressed and began laughing as I brushed my hair in the bathroom mirror. The client, still naked in the bed, asked me what I found so funny.
"Still think this place is haunted?" I said.
"Hmm? Oh, whatever. At this point, I really don't give a damn."
Just as I suspected. Being an escort has taught me a lot of things, but one of them has always remained true: There are few things a good fuck can't fix.