Erotic Fiction
I loved my job. I loved the freedom to meet different men everyday. Working at the escort agency in London made me feel empowered. It was the only way to satisfy my insatiable appetite; I was a woman that was not afraid to express her desire for men. My looks always got me a lot of attention from men. Long blond hair, pretty face and voluptuous curves. I loved the contrast of a man’s body, broad, hard and hairy, pressed against my soft skin. I enjoyed every client I had, because everyone was different and this added extra excitement to the experience.
I started working for one of the best escort agencies in London a few months ago, and I wondered how I didn’t come to this job sooner. The escort agency would take phone calls and make bookings for me, which guaranteed at least several men a night. The best part was I got paid for doing something I loved. How many people could actually find a job that they loved? not many. The thing was, I didn’t even see it as escorting. To me, it was something very natural. A man would look at my picture and fancied me, and we would meet. I would usually find him quite attractive and the sexual tention was always intense and powerful. Then it would seem the most natural thing to kiss and peel each others’ clothes off.
I loved the whole process of the job. I would usually start with a chat, so we could get to know each other better. You know, like dating in the old days. You sat a metre apart with hands on your lap and nod and smile politely whenever the man said something. The atmosphere would be gentle and respectful until I couldn’t help but to start undressing him with my eyes. Everything about a man drove me crazy. I would start with the stubble on his face, imaging his face down my crotch, leaving red scratch marks on the sensitive skin between my inner thighs. Then my eyes moved down to his adam’s apple, chest hair and the broad chest that would be later pressed against the softness of my breasts. By now I would move my body to sit closer to him, barely breathing in his scent and body heat, combing my fingers through his arm hair. My eyes would fumble with his fly, picturing a large erection sprung right at me. By now I could feel my nipples getting swollen, ripples of pleasure built inside me, I would lock his eyes and press my wet lips against his. My hands swam across his body, desperately revealing his bare skin, feeling every inch of his muscle with my palms, grabbing his hard cock in my fist. I pulled my lips off his, still wet from the kiss. I captured his erection in my mouth, brushing my tongue over his silky swollen penis, applying pressure on certain areas to make him shiver. When I had tasted enough of him, my juice had run wild and I could wait no longer but to have him inside me.
I dug my heels into his buttocks, stretched my arms up and behind to reach for the bed posts; every thrust was forceful and deep – I gasped with pleasure and the impact was inexplicable. My hair damp, spread across the pillow. I moaned uncontrollably along the rhythm of the banging sound of the bed against the wall, every slam was sending me waves of pleasure. His mouth over my nipples, sucking hard with desire. Our bodies tangled in sweat, slippery and sticky. I flexed my buttocks to receive him deeper, his face twisted and eyebrows tightened. Gasping and mumbling with every thrust, we would climax together. I held onto his jerking body, digged my finger nails into the back of his skin, panting with satisfaction.