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Rub a Dub Dub, Let’s Get Nude in the Tub

I’m constantly amazed by the appalling lack of imagination shown by wives when it comes to sex with their husbands.  At least that’s the message I get from my boys when they come see me. Even the shy ones like to pretend we’re engaging in something more than raw animal sex.  I suppose I shouldn’t complain.  Their loss is my gain.  In more ways than one.

Take Henry, for example.  Hank called me one afternoon around 4:30 to tell me he’d had a bitch of a day at the office and he really needed to unwind.  Would I mind if he came over and unloaded his burden of bullshit on me?  He insisted he only needed a sympathetic shoulder to lean on but I knew if a perky pair of tits came with the package he wouldn’t mind at all.  Henry and I have been best buddies for several months, every other Wednesday, so I felt pretty comfortable giving him my room number.  I said I was pretty tensed up myself and thought I’d jump in the tub for a long soak but I’d leave the door open a crack.  Just to make sure he closed it tight when he came in.

I never wear perfume when I entertain.  Some guys are ferociously allergic to the stuff and every wife I’ve ever known will go ballistic if her man comes home wearing it secondhand.  But on this occasion I didn’t think it would hurt to use a little scented bubble bath.  After all I was setting a scene and I wanted it to have the ring of authenticity about it.

I dumped some bath salt in the tub and let the hot water run while I stepped out of my street clothes.  The bubbles frothed and whirled around the rim of the tub as I stepped gingerly into the water and turned off the faucet.  God I love my job.  I leaned back and waited for Hank to come in.  I knew he’d love the sight of me lying back in the tub as soon as he entered the bathroom, the nipples on my firm breasts poking up out of the water like that.  I even got a little excited myself and took a few laps around the labia track with my happy fingers.  A girl’s got to get in the mood, you know.

I heard the door to the room open and shut, then Hank came into the bathroom and sat down on the edge of the tub, and started talking to me about his day. I listened to his rant for the first few minutes but then I found my attention beginning to wander. I decided to have a little fun. I pushed my breasts out of the top of the water my pink nipples hardening. He paused mid-sentence and wet his lips but he continued doggedly onward with his tale of woe. So, I pushed my pelvis upward, spreading my legs and exposing my pussy to him all wet, warm.  Then I submerged it again and slipped my fingers in between my slit rubbing up and down my crease.

“Why don’t you join me, Hank,” I whispered urgently, clearing away the bubbles and ramming a finger inside my tight hole.  “The water’s fine.”

That was all it took.  Hank forgot about his miserable day.  He quickly shrugged out of his work uniform, dropped his boxers and went for a swim with his baby.  His mouth closed quickly on my stiff nipples and he shoved his middle finger deep into my pussy.  I quivered with delight.

“Is that what you had in mind, you fucking little tease?” he asked with a wicked grin and I had to admit he had me there.  Come to think of it, it’s pretty easy to get your mind off work. It all depends on your partner’s imagination.  Ciao!

Hung Like a Happy Jury

In-calls are where the client comes to you: out-calls are where you go to the client.  Some girls won’t do in-calls because they feel they are at risk by someone knowing where they live.  Other girls won’t do out-calls because of the added expense of a driver, gas and a car. I like to offer my gentlemen callers both options.  The flexibility doubles the chances of getting a date.  Besides, you can always factor the additional cost into the hourly donation.

One advantage of in-call is that you control the turf to some extent. I usually book a room at an upscale hotel where I’m known to be a trusted patron.  I don’t insist on volume discounts or frequent flier miles, although those perquisites are certainly available.  I do insist on privacy and a room looking out onto rear parking lot, preferably on an upper floor.  I like a smoking room if one is available.  Oh, and extra towels.

Several years ago, when I was first breaking into the business and hadn’t yet firmed up my no-no list I hooked up with a very special gentleman. He was tall with dark hair and light blue angel eyes. His skin was tanned and he had a masculine chest with a happy trail from his navel to his package.  Sexy, let me tell you!  He was shy so I had to coax him into letting loose.

He said his name was Jeremy and that he was sweaty from traveling an hour and a half to see me.  I was flattered!   In LA traffic, an hour and a half can be Hell.  He asked if he could take a shower, apologizing that he was hot and sweaty and wanted to be fresh and clean for our session.  Little did he know I like ‘em sweaty and hot.

No problem.  I gladly helped Jeremy into the shower and waited on the couch smoking a cigarette, thinking of how badly I wanted to fuck him.  I stripped down to the buff so I’d be ready when he emerged from the shower, fresh and clean as promised.

Jeremy came out of the bathroom wrapped in a towel, looking mighty tasty.  He sat down beside me.  I immediately undid the towel from around his trim, 36 inch waist and started sucking his cock. I wanted to take my time and enjoy every inch of his hard luscious dick. I first played with him, licking it up and down slowly, tasting all of him.  Then I sucked his big balls popping them in and out of my hungry mouth.  I gobbled his cock all the way down until my chin rested on his balls, looking him in the eyes and telling him I wanted more.

I realized I had to slow down before he blew his load. It was obvious from his body language that he couldn’t handle any more of my exceptional cock sucking skills so I climbed on top because I wanted to cum on his dick. I squeezed his cock into my tight hole and damn it felt good. I started rocking back and forth getting wetter with each stroke. Meanwhile he was sucking on my firm breasts, squeezing my nipples and by the look of divine rapture on his face thoroughly enjoying my body.

I raised up to stroke his cock and have him watch it go in and out. I saw that his tip was getting red and he was about to cum. He started thrusting it hard and fast like a jack rabbit.  My juices were flowing down his cock and I knew I was going to cum so I clamped down hard and rode his shaft till the cows came home!  I grabbed the back of his neck grinding hard on his cock.  I felt sweat trickle down my spine; then a rush of complete bliss overtook my body and I couldn’t control myself, fucking him like I was having a seizure!  Jeremy and I came at the same time. We collapsed in each other’s arms, out of breath with huge smiles on our faces.

He dressed quickly without another word and hurried out the door for his hour and a half return trip to the real world.  Perhaps it was the lengthy commute or his shy demeanor but I never laid eyes on Jeremy again.  And yet the image of his stalwart cock still pops up from time to time in many of my finer dreams.  Even girls in my line of work are allowed their special fantasies.  Ciao!