Lunchtime Date

True to my decision, a month after my initiation into the world of escorting, I had another appointment to keep. This time I'd been asked to meet a local businessman for lunch in one of the city's finest restaurants.

I have to admit that I wasn't used to this lifestyle and had no idea how to dress for lunch at anything more upmarket than the local pub, but a quick phone call to a friend who worked in marketing and often met high flying clients for lunch, and I was put on the right track. A pale pink linen skirt, a simple white cotton blouse set off with a pretty brooch my grandmother had left me, a pair of tan stockings, white lace underwear and a pair of white sandals, not so high that they'd look tarty but high enough to be elegant.

A quick slick of pink lipgloss and some mascara to open up my eyes was all I needed to look attractive. This way lunch, after all, and the last thing I wanted was to look over-dressed. A spritz of my favourite perfume and a quick shake of my hair to give it a tousled look and I was ready.

"I'm dining with Mr Rodgers," I told the maitre d.

"Yes, madam. He's expecting you. This way, please."

I couldn't help thinking that it was very convenient to have somebody show you to the right table and wondered whether the system had been invented for this very purpose. A good restaurant certainly wouldn't want escorts approaching every other customer, after all.

"Lexi," my 'date' said, rising from his chair. "You look adorable."

He took my hand and placed a gentle kiss on my fingers, and already I could see the burning flame of desire in his eyes.

I smiled and thanked him, trying hard to look cool and experienced in this game but all the while my heart was hammering beneath my blouse. That, I decided, was the excitement; the fact that I found it nerve racking because I knew what would be expected of me later, yet wanting it because the whole fantasy of sex with a stranger was just too damned strong to ignore. Especially when there was so much money involved! £200 I'd be getting for spending two hours with a guy who I guessed was in his mid sixties but still surprisingly handsome.

The waiter brought over a bottle of Chardonnay and two goat's cheese tarts before quietly disappearing.

"I took the liberty of ordering for us," Greg Rodgers explained. "To save time." He winked and held up his glass to me.

I raised my glass back and smiled. This was a guy who didn't waste time. He was hungry alright, but for more than just lunch!

A Spanish omelette and Lemon Posset later and we were in the street, hailing a cab.

"I have an apartment about five minutes from here," he explained, "but I wouldn't dream of making a lady walk. There are other things you can better spend your energy on."

I was sure there was. And to be honest, I'd much rather fuck than walk.

His apartment was small and although sparsely furnished, what he did have was of extremely good quality and tastefully put together. It was obviously a bolt hole and not his permanent residence - no doubt he shared a nice house in the suburbs with a wife and a couple of spaniels. Not that it mattered to me. If I wasn't here then somebody else would be.

"So let's not waste time, Lexi" he said, pulling his tie off and unbuttoning his shirt. "I've been horny all morning and if I don't get my cock up your cunt within the next few minutes, I swear I'll stain my trousers."

I couldn't believe how different he was to my last, and first, client. Talk about get straight to the point. But that was fair enough, he was paying me good money so that he could fuck me, not so that he could sit around chatting about the state of the FTSE.

I unbuttoned my skirt and wriggled as it slid over my hips and dropped to the floor. As I bent to pick it up I felt him behind me, his hand grabbing at my crotch through the flimsy silk fabric of my panties.

"I hope you've got a nice meaty cunt, Lexi," he said, breathing heavily into my ear. "The kind of cunt I can really get my tongue into."

My only response was to push my panties down and spread my legs so that he could give me a good feel. His fingers shot inside me, pushing and probing and pulling me wide until I felt as if I'd explode.

"Nice and big, just the way I like them," he said. "I've got a huge dick y'see, and not all girls can take it."

It was at that point I started wondering whether I'd got myself into more than I could chew, but when he opened his fly and pulled out his cock, I realised he was bragging about nothing. OK, it was bigger than average, but he wasn't exactly hung like a donkey. But if he liked to think he was, who was I to spoil his fantasy.

"Oh God," I cried, "I'm never going to be able to take all of that!"

"Oh yes you are, darling," he assured me. "Just you lay on that rug and I'll ram it in so hard you'll have no choice other than to take it."

This was fun. I like games and this one was one that would be easy to win.

I opened my blouse and slid it off before relaxing on the rug. I say relaxed, but in reality I was trying to look anything but relaxed. I wanted him to believe I was anxious about the size of his cock.

"Now don't you worry, baby," he grinned, pushing his trousers and pants to the floor. "Once you get this in you you'll be screaming for more. Either that or you'll be screaming for mercy."

There was no build up whatsoever, he just got down on his knees between my legs, steadied his cock in his hand while pulling my pussy open with the other and guided it in. Once he had an inch or so inside me, that was it. He pushed his entire weight against me, ramming his cock right up until it felt as thought it was going to burst through into my stomach.

Again and again he lunged into me, each thrust as hard as the last. I could feel my pussy getting wetter as he drove his cock home until I found myself pushing my hips up to meet him, wanting him even deeper inside me.

"You're loving it, aren't you?" he panted as he pulled my tits from beneath my bra. "Dirty little slut that you are!"

I love it when men talk dirty to me, so that was just an extra turn on that set me on fire. I rocked my hips hard against him, begging him to keep fucking me for as long as he could.

"No, I'm stopping now," he said. "I want you to suck me. This is my show. I cum, you don't."

Bastard. He was going to leave me frustrated!

Before I could say anything his slimy dick was in my mouth and I was being ordered to suck it hard. I obeyed and sucked cock like I've never sucked before!

As I heard him moan and felt his muscles tighten, I knew he was about to cum and that I'd have to swallow quickly. This wasn't the kind of guy who would accept a drop being spilled.

"Drink it, whore" he ordered, as if on cue, as his cock exploded and sticky, hot cum was pumped into my mouth.

I swallowed hard but it kept on cumming and some escaped. How could one guy shoot so much, I wondered.

"Stay there," he said, as he got up and pulled on his pants and trousers. He slipped his shirt back on, did up the buttons and carefully arranged the knot in his tie. Once again he looked the perfect gentleman.

"Right..." he pulled up a chair and placed it in front of me. "I'll just sit here and watch while you play with your clit until you cum."

So he wasn't going to leave me unsatisfied after all. It was all part of the game. He wanted to watch me masturbate. I was happy with that. I'd done enough of it in the past to know exactly how to bring myself off quickly.

I slowly circled my hard and throbbing clit with a finger, gently pushing on it at regular intervals until it felt as though it was being pulled up into my body with each throb. I knew I could easily cum right then but I wanted to give him a show he'd enjoy, and anyway, I'd always loved prolonging the agony, bringing myself almost to climax and then easing off slightly until I could bear it no longer.

When I eventually got to that point, Greg was still sitting relaxed in the chair, a cigarette in one hand and the other holding a glass of whisky. You'd never think he'd just been fucking me for all he was worth, or that he was watching a woman finger he clit no more than three foot away from him.

"Cum for me now," he eventually said. "I need to get back to the office."

I squeezed my clit between my fingers and moved it slightly as if I was wanking a cock before an orgasm burst through me. Oh fuck, how I wanted him to leap off the chair and tongue me while I came, but he didn't. He just looked at his watch, got up, counted out my money and called a cab.

"I'll drop you at the station," he said.

And that was it. He said nothing during the journey, not so much as a goodbye. He'd got what he wanted and so had I. A couple of hours fun and a nice wad of money to spend on a lovely pair of shoes I'd seen earlier that week.

Maybe once a month wouldn't be enough after all.

Contributed by: Lexi 06/09/2006