My Dream of the Scarlet Woman

 

Naomi Schmitz

July 2021

My day really begins when she leaves her apartment across the street.

The time varies, but she never gets up early. When I see her in the morning, it appears like she has so much positivity that she dances out of the front door to the small café nearby. That is how elegant she is in every way she moves.

She doesn't look like a sex worker today. To me she is not working, she is not doing it for trivial gains. Somebody so beautiful must have more profound motives than to merely sell her body to strangers.

So, I will call her the scarlet woman. It is a more poetic term. Her scarf is scarlet red, and it flutters behind her like a coat of arms displaying her powerful femininity. It symbolizes her devotion, passion, dedication. To me she is also like a witch: She is proud and mysterious, and she is aware of her powers.

The woman carries herself like an artist. Every of her movements, even the tiniest, is deliberate.

She is a scarlet woman though, and I am longing for her services, although I could never gather enough courage to approach her. Yet, I imagine her fingers on my body, on my breasts, between my legs. They would sculpture emotions, paint worlds of lust. I would like to be her clay, her canvas, so she can create whatever she deems appropriate with my body. I wonder what she sees in me and what she would do to me. Would she gently tease my nipples with a feather or spank my butt with her bare hands? Would she kiss me? Would she embrace me, hold me in her arms? Comfort me?

She is a woman, and so am I.

"Do sex workers take on female clients?" is my question. My friend Google replies: "Some do", and then it elaborates:" It depends. Few do. You have to find the right one."

I don't want to find the right one. I want her. I don't even know if I'm lesbian. I know that I don't particularly like most men. Their brutish nature, their ignorant swagger, and their drunken self-confidence. Does that make me a lesbian? I know that I am scared of pussy. Of its sinister power. When I am touched down there in the right way then it changes everything. It opens a door to another world. It is like a scary drug.

When my pussy is teased, when it is unleashed.

My fingers used to be able to. Not anymore. They have become numb, clumsy like stumps. And my sex toys are just that. They are machines. I am too analytical to let them fool me that they mean their touch, that they pretend to care. They are impostors, promising what they cannot deliver.

Her fingers can. I just know that. Once I stood next to her in the café, when she took a coin out of her purse with one hand, delicately fishing the right one out like her fingers were acrobats in a circus tent. I bet she plays an instrument. One that plays haunting and beautiful notes. The piano maybe. She can find the right keys and every finger can just push down the keys with the right amount of pressure to evoke a new emotion. Imagine what they could do on my body, on my pussy?

Watching her, I feel she has travelled the world, she seems so confident, while I am sitting in my tiny room, too scared to go out, looking out of my window with curiosity, yet too much anxiety to actually talk to anyone, let alone this sophisticated woman.

I watch her every time she enters the house in the company of men. Sometimes I have seen them before. No clue where she picks them up. She also has regulars who ring her doorbell. They are the ones that scare me most. I am jealous of them. That she might fall in love with them, and she quits what she is doing. My hope to ever approach her, would be gone.

A silly thought because I could never just talk to her and ask her to do to me what she does to the men.

It's just out of the question, unrealistic.

So, I will imagine it. And it's not so bad. My fantasy will surely surpass any reality.

Imagine my encounter with her:

Me and her in the small café in line to place our orders at the counter.

"Hi!"

She turns around and smiles a little confused: "Hello! I'm sorry, but do I know you?"

I whisper: "No. But I've seen you around. I know your business, you know, what you do. The service you offer."

That was the wrong way to start the conversation, I can see it in her eyes. I am not good at this. At conversation. She is surprised and careful. I bet she thinks I'm the wife of one of the men she takes home. So, I quickly add:

"I would like to use your services... For myself. If you... offer your services to women, that is."

She relaxes and the room warms up with her smile: "That's a bit of an unusual way to approach me."

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be! Let's talk! And yes, I am happy to be with women."

She orders her coffee, and so do I. While we are waiting for our orders, she does some small talk about the café. There is nothing I could possibly add to the conversation, I rarely come here. But I smile and nod and agree with everything she says because it sounds so right.

We walk over to a booth and slide in opposite each other.

Facing her so close for the first time, I savor everything I see. Her eyes are dark brown and huge, and they seem to burst with curiosity and life. Her brown hair falls to her shoulders in a calculated wavy mess. Her jawline is very pronounced and square. It gives her an almost aristocratic look. Like her creator took the time to chisel it.

"So, what can I do for you?"

"Well, as I said. I would like to... hire you? I don't know how to say it."

She smiles patiently. "I understand. But what would you like us to do?"

I like how it is us, as if we have already formed some union. I don't know how to answer though, and she senses that.

A moment later the most erotic thing in a long time happens to me. She puts her hand on mine. Her delicate fingers rest on mine. They are soft and reassuring. It is so casual but also such a gift of reassurance and sympathy.

I wish I could put my other hand on hers and feel her soft skin and to gently stroke it. Not in a sexual way, but like you pet a rabbit, to feel good, but also to make it feel good. But that would be inappropriate.

I haven't been touched like that for a while. Looking at her fingers I imagine what is in store for me. Her index finger, slightly tanned and slender, is the most elegant. Can fingers be beautiful? Hers can. I just that know that its natural curvature seems to be made to perfectly slide into my pussy and do just the right things. I picture various positions in which her index fingers do things to me. How it slides across my vulva, enters my pussy, gathers the nectar of my arousal, and then feeds it to me. Her thumb seems to be perfectly shaped to arouse my clit while it roams through my bush.

If just her fingers can do all those things to me, then what can the rest of her body do?

I can see how this woman was made to make me happy.

She radiates this assurance that she is the right one. This must be witchcraft.

"Let me guess, you have never done this?"

I shake my head no.

"Don't feel bad. Don't be embarrassed. I'll run you through things, okay? And if you have a question, just ask!"

She explains how this arrangement works, and she isn't shy about it. There are people around us, yet she doesn't care if they hear us. I am mesmerized how considerate she is and how caring. After all she only wants to sell me sex, but she makes it sound so precious and relevant, and of course to me it absolutely is.

This is how I imagine this conversation to go realistically. But there is another dimension in which she is especially generous and raunchy. In this world she slips out of her Ballerina flats under the table and gently touches my leg. At first, I think this is an accident, but it is not. She slides it up and down my calf gently. I wish I'd worn a skirt to feel her skin on mine. I never do, though... regretfully.

While she is talking, her leg moves up to my knees, gently pushing them apart to get access to my thighs. She doesn't stop there. Her toes move up. I can only imagine them, slender, well-shaped, tanned. Eventually they are only inches from my pussy, casually wiggling up and down, stimulating my thirst. I slowly thrust my hips forward, so my cherry can touch her toes. But she just smiles and pulls them away. She teases me. She merely teases me. I haven't made the transaction, and nothing is for free. That is her message.

There is an ATM at the entrance of the café, and I consider making her an offer:

"Please. If you just... you know... I will give you whatever you want. Right now! Well, afterwards. I promise! From the ATM there. I promise!"

I don't say it though. It would be undignified. She doesn't deal in such quick and sloppy hack jobs. She is a professional, she is the real deal. She is not a fortune teller in a tent at a carnival. She is a proper sorceress. No sleight of hand from her!

She also gives me her price. It's steep. It really is. This is much more than I had anticipated. But then again, I have thought of her as an artist, and art is not cheap. Just sitting opposite her radiating personality, I feel like even if I have to get a second job to afford her more often, it will be worth it.

We agree on a time and date. I wish I could sit there with her for a little longer, but she has to go.

"I have business to do!"

She smiles, seeking for my understanding, and already I am jealous of her business.

Before she leaves, I ask her: "Wait, what is your name?"

"I am sorry, how rude of me. I am Valerie!"

I know it is not her real name. There is a song by Amy Winehouse. I vaguely remember that the singer longs to see Valerie and invites her over. While we are listening to Amy, my friend Google later explains to me that Valerie means 'bravery'. I like it. The sound of it and the meaning.

"What do I call you?" Her question is more accurate. It acknowledges that we both deal in chosen identities.

"Samantha," I say from the top of my head.

"Pleased to meet you, Samantha!"

From the way she pronounces my nom de plume I conclude that I have chosen well. It roles softly off her tongue. If only I had given her my real name, so that she could pronounce it in the same loving way. I would record her saying it. However, it is too late now for the truth.

"I am looking forward to our date!"

It is a date? I haven't had one of those in an eternity.

She gets up and so do I, hoping for a brief hug, maybe a quick kiss on the cheeks to seal our deal. I suddenly ache to smell her hair, her perfume. It would give me so much vital information.

But she just waves goodbye and smiles one last time. The last thing I see is her scarlet scarf, as I return to my grey life.

Stop making a fool out of me! Why don't you come on over, Valerie? Those words are on my mind.

* * *

My anticipation in the following days is like a cold wave creeping through my body and slowing the rest of my irrelevant life. I warm myself in these times with my blazing anticipation and my endless imagination of what she will do to me:

When she opens the door to her apartment, I am actually scared.

She is wearing a colorful Kimono which reveals a generous amount of her chest, when she turns around, the garment opens itself and for a moment I see her right breast. It is the briefest of moments, less than a heartbeat, before the silky garment presses itself against her body and removes any indecency.

I wonder whether Valerie intended this, whether this is orchestrated to tease me. I feel bad and then I remember that I am actually here for this, and I am paying for all of it.

She invites me into her living room. I expected a lot of trinkets and walls full of pictures and memories from all sorts of experiences and travels around the world. Instead, there is almost no furniture, and the walls are empty. As if this is her workplace. And maybe it is. I never considered it.

She offers me a seat on the large couch. Her scarlet scarf is draped over it. I feel that this must be a symbol, right? This can't be coincidence!

"Would you like something to drink?"

I'm wondering whether that is included in the price. I should have asked Google!

"A red wine, maybe?" I ask.

"Coming right up!"

Payment. Google told me to pay in advance. I have rolled up the bills like gangsters do. I am looking for a jar to put it in. Like in the movies.

"I'll take that" she says gently, and I hand her the cash. To my disappointment she quickly unrolls it to count it.

Valerie, you can trust me!

She disappears in the kitchen and returns with two glasses. Valerie hands me her glass and sits next to me. Everything about her is of a casual grace. The way she is holding her glass, how she has tucked her leg under, how she plays with her hair. She brushes her neck with the tips of her hair. I make a note to kiss her there. If that is what she likes. The mere thought that I might get to kiss that beautiful creature makes me shiver.

Everything about me is tense.

She attempts some small talk, but I don't want to talk. My mouth is dry despite the wine and my mind empty despite the alcohol. I want to listen to her. My words would spoil the moment.

There are so many things I would like to ask her though. But none are appropriate, even considering that I pay her. How long she has done this, whether she likes it, how many johns she had today. I am pretty sure that she has been confronted with these questions hundreds of times before. I don't want to be a cliché, I want to be original. I am not though, and so I remain quiet.

"So, what would you like us to do?"

I did not answer that question when she asked me in the café.

I see her lips: Can I kiss them?

I see her breasts: Can I touch them?

Can I kiss your neck? Can I put my fingers inside of you? I'll be gentle, just trust me. You must have had a hard day. Let me take care of you!

I understand now that I want her to feel good. I am here to make her happy. This seems to be more important than my own pleasure.

My pleasure rests in hers. I wish I could make her come. I wish I could give her pleasure. Google has lectured me that some prostitutes actually come, that it happens more often than one would think. I don't quite believe it.

I also doubt that I would be able to pleasure her. I am not good at this. How many people has she been with today? How many people have tried? Has anyone succeeded?

While all these ugly thoughts have rumbled through my head, she has just looked at me. I still haven't answered her question.

She puts her hand on my neck and slides it around it to gently pull me to her lips.

I can smell the wine on her breath before I taste her lips. They are soft and wet. A feeling I have not felt in a long time. Something is happening to me, it's not just that our lips touch. I just know that there is some sort of sorcery going on, that she is injecting an unknown potion into my body. I breathe it in, sweet and heavy when I inhale her kiss.

I dig my fist into her hair, not sure if I am allowed to do that, if I am allowed to touch her. She doesn't object. My fingers run through the strands of her hair, and I tickle my cheek with them when I want to smell her hair quickly.

Her hand slides down my neck and to my breasts. Before she opens the button on my blouse, she checks whether I'm okay with it. And of course, I am. I am okay with all her attention and care.

I'm getting moist, and I am not talking about my pussy. My eyes are getting teary. I quickly wipe away the tear before she notices. It is not sadness, it's the beauty of what she is doing to me.

Valerie reaches into my bra and her fingers rub against my hard nipples. She plays with them and breaks off our kiss. I raise my head and offer my neck to her. She could bite me like an animal, instead she kisses the sensitive skin on my neck, and I feel her gently sucking it. I wish she did it harder. I'd proudly wear her love bite for the next couple of days. Like a teenager in love. Like a mark or a seal showing my allegiance.

But she is professional enough to leave no marks.

I don't resist when she slides my blouse off my shoulder. Undressing myself during the few times I have had sex has always been awkward. She makes it feel elegant. Like a royal would unpack a present. When she undoes my bra and slips it off, when she opens my pants, I follow her guidance.

It's the little things that I remember. When she rests her hand on the top button of my pants and seeks my approval before she opens it.

"Is it okay?" she asks. "Do you like it?", "May I?"

Valerie has taken control of me in the subtlest of ways.

She doesn't open the zipper, though. Instead, she points her attention to my breast. She kisses them, sucks them, and I feel an electricity jolting through my body. I look down at her. Guys have sucked on my breasts but never with that meaningful passion. As if there is a certain technique of moving her tongue, maybe similar to a spell, something that only witches are taught at full moon. It must be more than mere experience, it is supernatural.

I play with her hair and remember that she asked me what I would like her to do. There are so many options. There is so much she could do, and I would be okay with all of them.

But what I am most curious about are her fingers. The fingers that rested on my hand in the café, that held my neck, that caressed my nipples. I want them in me.

Maybe it is the only thing that I decide that night, but I find her wrist and put it between my legs.

She stops for a moment and looks me in the eyes. They are not as dark brown, as I had previously thought. There are sprinkles of hazel in them. It makes them even more lively. What a great choice of color, I am thinking, as if she had a say in choosing that color.

Her hand moves up and down my thigh, and for a second, I wonder whether she misunderstood, but then her fingers find the zipper. She looks at me again, and I nod before she pulls it down to reveal my panties.

I have bought a new set of underwear. Just for her. It was not cheap. For a moment I am thinking that I will never wear it again. That I will frame it and put it up in my bedroom, and whenever I meet her, I will buy a new set of underwear and a frame. And I will write a letter for each frame, like the entry of a diary, in which I will treasure my memories. And I will compose a song on the piano for every time I met her, and the song will reflect my feelings during that session.

It is a silly idea. I can't play the piano, I don't have enough money for underwear and frames, and I don't think that I would be able to find the words to express my feelings.

It would be nice though.

She has asked me to lift my hips and has peeled off my jeans and my panties.

I am naked in front of her.

It feels right, but it also feels unfair, and so in an act of rebellion I push her away and focus my attention on her, as I open her Kimono. My unwrapping of her is like that of a greedy child who can't wait to get to the presents.

It is my turn to caress her body, and I feel like a peasant compared to her elegance. But when my tongue flicks over her nipples, I hear her moan.

I am so proud of myself. That I am able to make her moan in pleasure. It is an odd thought. Only later it occurs to me that she might be faking it. But at that moment I don't mind and later I reason that she would never do that to me.

She lets me explore her body, doesn't object, whatever I do.

Eventually she takes control again, and eventually I feel her hand on my neatly trimmed triangle. Yes, I have groomed myself for her.

She seeks my approval when her fingers caress my vulva, and lost in her eyes, I almost forget to give it to her.

For a moment I am worried that I might be leaking my juices all over her couch. That is how wet I am. That is also how self-conscious I am.

 

By now my body is on fire and when her finger glides into me, I feel that something is happening that is far beyond everything I have deemed possible.

She must have dipped her finger into a poison that consumes me with lust, that manipulates my body. This is witchcraft. I feel like after this I will not be the same. Valerie will turn me into something wicked like her sex slave. And I wouldn't mind serving her, cleaning up after her clients have left, just to get a fraction of her attention. It is insane.

When I am about to climax, I whisper: "No, no, no!" But it is a whisper only in my mind. I don't want her to hear it and to stop, But I also don't want it to be over so soon. So, I gather all my strength to fight against it, to hold back.

Of course, she notices and gently tells me to relax, to enjoy it, and of course I follow her advice. There is nothing I can do against her sorcery.

This is pure beauty.

It is art.

It is too much.

When I climax, I feel like my flesh is raw, and when her fingers caress me while my lower body is caught in the most violent spasms, I push her hand away.

It is something I will regret. Something I would want to apologize for. I can only hope that she forgives my rudeness.

I never do apologize, though, I forget.

We are lying next to each other. My hand is gently playing with her breast, hers with my hair. I can't say anything. I don't want to speak. I just want to feel all my happiness circulate through my veins, and I don't want it to leave.

* * *

Of course, nothing like that will ever happen. I am too scared to approach her. I can't see myself do that, and I doubt that I will ever find the courage.

But I watch her every day as she leaves and when she returns. Those brief seconds make my day. The rest is filled with my imagination. All I can do is fantasize about my encounters with her. It might sound sad, it is not for me, though. My thoughts of her are purer than reality can ever be.

Just one thing, though: I have asked Google how I can learn to play the piano, and I am trying to put to music my dreams of our time together.

The end

Growth in the Park

 

 

 

 

 

 

I was sitting out at a park, taking in the fine greenery around me on my walk when a Particularly Attractive Woman strode by me, winking and smiling to me as she did. I watched her pass, my gaze obviously stuck to her as she hips swayed and her hair was swayed by a gentle breeze. She gives me one last glance back before disappearing around a corner. I smile and log it into my memory for later, then continue on my walk.

I only get a few paces before I start to feel something. Not sure what, but something feels off. I doesn't feel like arousal itself, though I can feel that welling up from my loins as well. I glance around for a bench and don't see any, so I quicken my step. That woman was really sticking in my mind and I was going to need to sit for a bit to calm back down, I could already feel my penis becoming erect in my shorts. At least I thought I did, I felt the familiar feeling of the fabric of my boxers against the head as it slowly slid down ward, and of the arousing swell of it increasing in girth as it grew. As I walked on, becoming more aware of my own size by the second, I realized I wasn't erect, or getting erect.

I stopped and looked down to see a more prominent bulge in my shorts, but no sign at all of any hardness. I reach a hand down and touch it, then cup it. It's me, and I could now feel it press against my hand as my dick continued to grow. I resumed walking and now could feel that my balls, too, were growing. I could feel them rub against my thighs and how my cock was now resting against them as it swung freely in my shorts. With every step I could feel my shorts becoming tighter, my cockhead reaching lower, and my balls growing rounder. I felt anxiety well up alongside my increasing arousal. Where was I going? Could I get to my car? What then? My mind raced with thoughts of what to do as I became increasingly aware of how award it is to walk with such large, and still growing, genitals.

After a few more minutes of awkward walking, I finally decided that I would just wait until dark and return to my car then, which, hopefully I would be able to drive or at least fit inside my car at that point, given how quickly my junk was growing.

Then, I stopped. I felt something I didn't know would feel so... good. The tip of my cock slowly inched out of the bottom of my shorts, rubbing my knee, as thick as a can of pringles, and still completely soft. I gasped lightly as I then felt it finally start to get hard. It pulsed, the entire length slowly lifting and pulling against the leg of my shorts. I hesitantly grabbed the cloth and pulled it up, the light touch of it making me moan as my dick slowly pulsed harder and harder, slowly pushing the head away as the shaft swelled.

I winced as my balls were constrained by my shorts and boxers, the thread and fabric strong enough to try and hold them in. Without thinking I stripped off my shorts and boxers, not caring now as there was no way to hide what I had anyway. I return my attention to my cock and see that I can't even reach the tip as the shaft juts out proudly from me, still slowly growing bigger, longer, and girthier with every passing moment. I widen my stance as my balls grow heavy and press against my legs and moan again, the feeling of being so large and having it out where the breeze can caress it enough to make me gush precum. It splatters onto the ground in front of me as I helplessly watch my body continue to change.

"Are you alright? I heard so noise coming from-" I hear a voice approach from behind me, I turn without thinking to face them, my cock swinging around in the air, lagging behind with it's immense girth, and they stop when their eyes lock onto it. I feel ashamed, aroused, and lustful all at the same time. This curvy ginger now standing gawking at my growing dick and balls doesn't seem to know what to think either. I can know she is also aroused, as her crotch quickly dampens and she steadies herself on a tree.

"Something's happening to me, I don't know why, but uh..." I awkwardly reply, not sure if I should approach her. She takes a step towards me, I smile excitedly and my dick surges in size, my legs starting to wobble from the new weight they're having to support.

"You should sit down, uh, here! Sit on this!" she quickly pulls her shirt off, laying it on the ground and helping me sit down. She holds my cock to do this as if it would help, but I don't complain. I can't as her touch sets me on fire and all I can do is moan in response as precum runs down the shaft by the gallon. She licks it from her hands before taking from the source, my cock now huge enough to rival my torso in girth and her height in length. I can barely think as she makes out with my slit, her tongue having more than enough room to slide in and play around. I'm unable to say anything before I feel every muscle in my body tense all at once as my balls unleash their fullness upon her face, dosing her with rope after thick rope of my hot, sticky, gooey, potent, and according to her, delicious cum. She moans in her own pleasure after tasting it, striping off he clothes as she tries to hold me to her mouth, the head of my cock rivaling her own. I pry my eyes open to see her gulping it down, amid the buckets of the spunk cascading down her breasts and tummy onto the ground in bucket load. I also see what it's doing to her, how she's starting to fatten between swallows of it. Her breasts soon rival my balls in size as they leak milk, and her hips wide enough to surpass her shoulders as her belly pushes her boobs aside. I gasp as I want to drench every inch of her in my cum.

I cum for what feels like an hours, but may well have only been ten minutes. By the end, my balls cover my lap as giant orbs that would each fill a seat on their own, my shaft rivals the old trees around me and my tip is well above her, letting my cum shower down onto her as she is now probably three times the weight she was. Her tits hand down, round and full, to her hips, which are only somewhat wider than her boobs. Her belly is about the same size, a third dome on her front that rests in front of her thighs, the size of which are not easy to describe and get across just how much they've grown. She wobbles and waddles around to me, completely white, head to toe.

"That was fun! Should I get my friends for Round 2?" she asks, lust and excitement oozing off her words. All I can do in response is start cumming again.

Be Careful About Your Desires Pt. 01

 

 

 

 

 

"Why did I come here?" was all I could think of at that moment. While the rest of the party guests were still talking and laughing, I was there, drinking quietly in silence. It was a friend of a friend's birthday party, all familiar people but few to have a conversation with. So while they argued about nonsense, my friend and I kept drinking while listening to what they were talking about.

Let's talk a little about me. I was a 25 year old guy, 5.4 ft tall and 116 lbs, a body that had always caused me complex for not being tall like the rest of my friends, and slim build without too much muscle. With short black hair, brown eyes and a sparse beard, the only thing that stood out about my figure was my ass. My ass was rounded and well proportioned, and the object of continuous "rubbing" from some of my girl friends. Those friends who had been nothing more than that, friends.I had never had much success with girls, more than the occasional fling. As for sex, with two of these flings I had made it to bed, but the little experience was the reason for not going further.

At that moment, the party was playing the typical game "I've never ever..." Laughing, some of the participants' secrets were being discovered, while others tried to hide them.

"I've never ever... made out with a person of the same sex," said Axel, the gay friend of the group with a chuckle.

Both Axel and Megan, the bisexual girl in the group, drank. Meanwhile, the rest of the group looked at each other, searching for who might be hiding something. After a minute, a guy mentioned that he didn't understand how a man could like another man, something I agreed with in my head.

"Well, you don't know what you're missing..." commented Axel. Axel was the typical effeminate gay friend. A little shorter than me with a slim figure, brown hair and green eyes. I had never liked to be around him, turning all conversations into something sexual around himself, and avoided being alone with him because of certain comments and advances with other guys that luckily I hadn't received.

"Anyways, how can you be sure you don't like them if you've never tried it" added Megan. "If you've never been with another man, you can't say you don't like them."

(I didn't know it at the time, but that sentence would be the one that would change my life forever)

People started arguing about whether that statement was true or not, if you needed to be with another man to know if you weren't gay, or with another woman to know if you weren't a lesbian. Under my point of view (increasingly impaired by alcohol) it didn't have to be true, you don't need to try everything in this life to know if you like it.

"Because you guys are afraid to try being with another guy, because of what people would think about you" concluded Megan. Megan was the girl who, after an extensive list of affairs with men, had long ago declared herself to be bisexual, now with a girlfriend for a few months. Megan was also short, with brown hair and brown eyes. She had a well-proportioned body, not thin but very attractive, with a nice ass and nice tits. What made her so sexual and so successful with both men and women was how direct she was, being the one who used to take the initiative and find her flings.

The rest of the night was spent with a lot of drinking and more partying, suffering the consequences the next day. There were still some gaps from the night, but not that sentence. "If you've never been with another man, you can't say you don't like them." Why would I want to sleep with a man when a woman has everything I could ever want?

The rest of the week passed without much interest, what I was looking forward to was the weekend again. On Saturday, before going out with my friends, I began my favorite ritual, my masturbation session. In the search for the perfect video, I inadvertently clicked on a video in which a hot girl was holding a cock. Ready for action, I started to masturbate, listening to what the actress was saying.

"...I know what you really want, what you fantasize about doing... close your eyes and imagine yourself in this room with me." I did as she said, imagining myself with that big titted brunette in bed and what she could do to me made my cock get really hard, and start jerking off faster.

"...I'd get you on your knees, in front of my beautiful pussy, wanting to eat it. You'd do anything without question at this point wouldn't you?." Of course I thought to myself, eyes closed completely aroused.

"...with your eyes tightly closed I would open that beautiful mouth of yours, and let you smell that scent of arousal in front of you." Completely surrendered, I opened my mouth and extended my tongue, wishing to have that sexy woman in front of me. "Now, open your eyes and start licking the gift I brought you... my little cock sucker!"

At that very moment, after a few minutes masturbating and mindlessly horny, I stopped and opened my eyes in terror. In front of me, that gorgeous girl who had me crazy until a few moments ago, with her huge tits and that devilish smile, had a huge cock next to her ready for me.

In that moment, I closed the PC and finished without a happy ending my session. "Shit, between last week's conversation and this, one can't masturbate in peace" I thought to myself.

Later at night with my friends, and after a few too many drinks, my friend brought up the conversation from the previous week. "Can you believe what that fag Axel said, that until we have sex with a guy we can't say we don't like them?" said with a chuckle.

"Just what I was thinking, I'm going to be suck a sweaty dick instead of a tasty pussy" said another one. "But you know Axel, maybe he was trying to get you to give him a blowjob" he said, making the others burst out laughing.

The only one who didn't laugh too much was me. The alcohol was noticeable by now, and listening to that conversation took me back to the video from earlier that evening. Suddenly, my dick was starting to get hard. I tried to think of something else, but I couldn't. Imagining myself in that situation licking a cock instructed by that sexy woman was making me go crazy. Soon after, I said goodbye to my friends and took a taxi back home and, before I knew it, I was in front of my computer with the same video in front of me and my cock already out.

"...don't worry my little sissy, I know your little secret and it will be safe with me. All you have to do is let yourself go, and I'm going to make you the best cock sucker there is. Or at least second after me sissy!" she said with a wink and a chuckle. The alcohol was making me more and more excited, wanting to stand there with my mouth open in front of that magnificent cock. It was a cock of at least 6 inches, bigger than mine no doubt, which was about to explode in my hand. "Open your mouth wide and let your cocksucking instincts take over" she said as the cock came closer to the camera.

"Don't stop sucking, feel it cum in your mouth, feel how a real man is making you his little sissy!" "You are a natural at this, keep sucking up and down and don't forget his tasty balls, kiss them, take them in your mouth, moan with them in your mouth to show this man how much you love being on your knees sucking his cock." I was licking and sucking wishing that cock was deep inside my mouth. My cock couldn't be any harder, my hand going up and down rapidly as I felt my orgasm approaching.

"You notice how his cock is about to explode? I want you to beg this handsome man to cum in your face and mouth, to transform you into the slut you really are." At that point the alcohol and excitement spoke for me.

"Please sir, I need you to cum in my mouth and my face and make me your faggot slut, I'm begging you" was all I could say between moans. At that moment the cum started coming out of the cock, powerful streams of hot jizz that I wished landed in my mouth. At the same time my cock exploded, my cum spread all over my body.

"That's it my little sissy, enjoy the honor that is to have cum from a real man on your face and in your mouth. Enjoy the taste, because you are going to learn to crave it thanks to me. Next time I'll dress you like a real sissy for my pleasure." The horniness hadn't finished wearing off, and mixed with the alcohol made me take some of the cum I had in my body, take it with my fingers and put it in my mouth. The taste wasn't bad, kind of salty and hot. Exhausted and still drunk, I cleaned myself up as best I could and went to sleep.

The next day the hangover was the first thing I noticed when I woke up. The second thing, a weird taste in my mouth, something I couldn't figure out until moments later. The taste of cum was still in my mouth, something I quickly went to clean up. But the thought was still there. And it stayed there for the rest of the week, no matter how hard I tried. Whenever I was watching porn, I couldn't imagine myself fucking the blonde actress with enormous tits moaning and taking cock, but being her. On my knees dressed with slutty outfits and makeup, sucking those huge cocks, being put on all fours and fucked hard. All those cumshots that I'd receive all over my tits, inside my ass or my mouth, and feeling like a real slut.

By the end of the week it had become the norm, and the famous phrase came back to haunt my head. "If you've never been with another man, you can't say you don't like them." Would I be able to sleep with another man? The curiosity got the better of me, and I took my cell phone to download the famous application for gay dating that Axel had talked about on numerous occasions, bragging about his success on it. Once installed, I put in my name what I had admitted to being the week before to that woman, a "virgin and horny sissy."

Soon the messages started coming in. Among them from people close to me, with whom I wouldn't dare do anything in case they knew me or they could recognize me. "Do you have room?", "Where are you from?", "What is a sissy?" among a few pictures of hard cocks. The constant attention I was receiving was making me feel horny and desired, and the need to masturbate was increasing.

And then I received the message. "So you're a sissy huh. Looking for a Master?". It was a man who lived 35 miles away, far enough away that they couldn't know who I was, and not too far away that I couldn't go. After several exchanged messages he told me he was a 42 year old man not long divorced, had dommed a CD recently and was looking for more action.

"I've never dressed as a woman" I replied. "Truth be told I had never fantasized about it, but I didn't fantasized being with a man and here I am."

"Well with me you are going to try both slut" he replied. "When you come you will wear the clothes that I'll have ready for you, and I am going to teach you how to be a good sissy for me."

A week earlier, such a conversation would have turned my stomach. But at that moment, all I could do was masturbate and wish to make it happen.

"I didn't say I'm going to go," I replied, trying to back off.

"You're not going to have any choice after seeing this slut." Instantly a picture arrived, showing the naked torso of a man, and underneath the underwear the silhouette of a hard cock.

"Right now you can't wait to see what's underneath, hot it smells and tastes like, and what would be like to be on your knees in front of a real man sissy" she continued to write. "So when you're ready, come and get it."

I couldn't deny it, my body was asking me to go and sleep with a man, and it seemed like this could be the best opportunity....

 

Freelance Photographer - EXTRA

 

 

 

 

 

Mike was reflecting on his past photography successes. Shelley had gotten hired by that agency in L.A. She was doing commercials. He'd even seen a couple of commercials that she was in on TV. He felt good that he'd had a part in helping his friend get to pursue the career she wanted. The one thing that he was sad about was Shelly now living in L.A. But he still lived in her hometown so he knew he'd still get to see once in a while.

One who he would always remember was Beth Ann. He was happy that he had happened to come into her life when she needed someone. He helped her transform from a young girl who'd had a poor start at life into a confident, capable young lady who was now working at that camera store where she had a future in the business world. She was meeting new friends now that were more her age. They would always be best friends. They were still getting together occasionally to go enjoy a nice dinner or a massage.

He went on reminiscing about all the girls who had posed for him in the past. There had been many. Some had been just fun photo shoots to show pretty ladies that they were model material. They might never pursue modeling as a career, but it gave most of them more self-confidence than they had before doing the photo session. They had pictures to remind them of how special they actually were. Now he had to quit dreaming about the past and think about the present.

One Saturday night while I was enjoying the dancing girls in a bar I started chatting with one girl whose turn on the stage was over and she was back to serving the customers in the bar.

Four girls were taking turns, rotating, taking their 15 minutes on the small stage, while the others worked on the floor. They were not only serving drinks but performing lap dances for anyone willing to pay for one. The better dancer, with the better body, made the most money.

The girl I was talking to was DeeDee. At least that's what she said her name was.

I was sure it was not a stage name because she was barely a B cup.

She was very pretty, her body was proportionate but just not busty like her name might have suggested. DeeDee had a sweet smile, a great, outgoing attitude and was very friendly. The bar wasn't busy, so when she wasn't serving drinks or giving some guy a lap dance she would stop at my table and talk. I sat there a couple of hours sipping on my beer. It wasn't a place that had a two-drink-minimum like some of the nicer gentleman's clubs.

Our chats continued when she had time. She kept telling me more about herself.

I was being a good listener. At some point I had mentioned that I was a freelance photographer and that I had done some model shoots.

She asked me. "Do you have any of your work you could show me?"

I replied. "If you'll watch my table so that no one thinks I've left, I'll grab an album of my work that's in my car."

She answered. "Great, I'd like to see what your work looks like."

I walked out to my car, grabbed the album, took a business card out of my wallet and tucked in my shirt pocket. When I got back she was still standing by my table.

She said. "I need to go take care of a couple of customers." And hurried away.

I thought damn she has nice legs and a cute little ass. She was back in a few minutes after taking care of other customers. I opened the album to the model section, turned it so she could see it from where she was standing.

"This is what I do. There are other types of photography in the other tabbed sections."

She started to look at my album... after just a few photos she smiled and said.

"I get off early tonight, about 9:00, can you meet me in the parking lot when I get off."

I was pretty surprised and told her. "I'll walk out of here about 10 till 9. I'll be waiting in the front row of the parking lot. I drive a red Chevy Impala. My name is Mike."

I discreetly handed her my card from my pocket. She casually tucked my card in the little top she had on, like it was a tip. I watched some of the other girls, just passing time. She would stop at my table like she was just checking on a customer, but not stopping to talk. At 10 till 9 I finished my beer, picked up my album that she had closed and left on my table. I just tucked the album under my arm and walked out. It was about 10 after 9 when she startled me.

She had left the bar via the back door, and walked thru the cars in the parking lot where I was parked. She leaned down at the open passenger window and asked. "May I get in?"

I replied. "Absolutely."

She quickly hopped in and said. "Let's get out of the parking lot before anyone sees me. It's against bar rules to leave with a customer."

I started the Impala and drove out onto the street. I said. "How about I drive at least a few blocks, turn a couple of corners, and then find a café where we can have coffee and talk."

She smiled and said. "I like your style, protecting me."

I told her. "I've been at this for a while and have learned to be safe in the city."

She started. "My husband always drops me off at work and picks me up when I get off. The bar is not in the best neighborhood! I was supposed to get off at 11:00 but it was slow at the bar tonight, and I asked my boss if I could get off early. He said it was fine. I called my husband and told him what I was doing, and he said to call him if I needed a ride home later. I hope you can drop me off at home later. Can you do that?"

My answer. "No problem."

We found a quiet little café that would be open till midnight. We found a table in a corner and sat down in two chairs that were on both sides of a corner. The waitress came over and I ordered. "Just two coffees for now." I had brought the album in with me.

DeeDee started looking thru the album, starting at the front, not just the model section. Our coffee came, which we set to the side so as not to spill anything on the album. She was looking really closely at my work.

After about 10 minutes of looking, with neither of us saying anything, she spoke quietly. "You are good! I like your work."

I answered. "Thanks, so why did you want to see me when you got off work?"

DeeDee went on. "My husband had an accident a while back and can't work, because of the heavy lifting. He can still drive and do little things around the house but he can't work. I don't make that much at the bar, but if I could move up to one the nicer gentleman's clubs or pick up some modeling work, things would be a lot better. I don't know if I can afford your rates, but maybe we can work something out, payments or something?"

I replied. "I'm sure we can discuss it later after I know what you have in mind."

She went on. "I need to put together a portfolio to show my various costumes and maybe a few nude photos so when club owners want to see what I look like naked... perverts... I can just show them photos instead of having to undress for them."

I chuckled. "I know, it's a tough world, especially when you're just getting started."

She went on. "After George, my husband, had his accident we had to do something. The job at the bar was the first thing I could find. I had a few sexy things I could use, and added some more after a couple of weeks working. I enjoy the work and George doesn't mind, actually he suggested I should think about going professional. We don't have kids or pets, so weird hours are no big deal. The only one at the house besides us is my niece, Sherri. She just graduated from high school back in Boonville. That's a small town in Missouri with no future for her there. She came out to stay with us where she can maybe find a job."

Always looking to further my photography I asked. "Is she pretty model material like her aunt?"

She smiled and sighed. "She could be... 5 foot 3 and double D!"

"Sometimes I wish I had bigger breasts."

I quickly re-assured her. "From what I saw of you at the bar your body is just fine!"

She responded. "Thank you, but I still sometimes wish they were bigger."

We talked for a while, enjoying our coffee. I understood what she wanted.

I said. "It's late. I should get you home before your husband starts worrying about you. Where do you live?" She told me where she lived. It was about 20 miles but I didn't care, I might get two model shoots. I paid the bill plus a tip because all we'd had was coffee, but did occupy a table for an hour.

We walked out to my car where I unlocked the passenger door and opened it for her to get in.

She slid in. "I wish my husband would do that once in a while. Thank you."

I was trying to make a good impression. It didn't take long until she was telling me where to turn and which house was hers.

When I stopped I said. "Just wait." I went around and opened her door.

She was quick to say. "You are a gentleman, what were you doing in a sleazy bar?"

My response. "I was just killing time, but maybe it wasn't wasted time."

DeeDee said. "Please come in and meet my husband and Sherri."

I answered. "I'd like to." We went up the walk.

George had seen us drive up and opened the door.

"Come on in." He said.

We went in and into the living room where Sherri was sitting. Everyone was introduced, and we talked about what was going on.

Sherri was definitely DD!

George wrote the address and their phone number down on a piece of paper so I could call in the next couple of days to arrange a plan.

(This was back before there were cell phones or digital cameras.)

I said. "Nice to have met all of you. I'll be calling in a couple of days.

Is it better to call during the day when maybe DeeDee would not be at work?"

DeeDee answered. "That will be fine."

We all said good bye and I walked out to my car. As I drove away I wondered what I had stumbled into. Maybe my evening would lead to two model shoots. I headed for home.

I ran all the different scenarios in my head as to how this could work out. Finally, I had a plan. I went home for lunch on Monday so I could call DeeDee. I very rarely made personal calls from my desk at work.

DeeDee answered the phone. "Hello."

I said. "It's Mike, I have an idea. Let me explain it to you. You and George have had some bad luck lately. If you sign a model release allowing me full use of your photos, maybe promoting myself like you saw in my album, or possibly sell a few, I'll do a short shoot for you. That's usually 2 rolls of 36 instead of a full shoot with 4 or 5 rolls. We would end up with 72 photos of you. You will get to choose your favorite 20 prints plus 6 special ones for enlargements in either 5x7 or 8x10. We'll get together a few days after the shoot so you can decide which ones you want copies of and which ones you'd like enlargements of. I'll make your favorite prints in 4x6 and the enlargements and deliver them to you a few days later.

No charge to you, but you'll have to put your portfolio together in an album."

She excitedly answered back. "You can't do that!"

I said. "Sure I can. I remember when I was just getting started in photography. I'm just giving back."

There was a short pause, she said. "I'm not passing this deal up. When can we do the shoot?"

I explained. "Since you work every weekend it would need to be on a week day. I work days at my job, but I have this coming Wednesday off. The company I work for gives the employees their birthday off. Mine is Wednesday. I can't think of a better way to enjoy my birthday than doing a photo shoot with you. If 10:00AM Wednesday works for you, we're on."

She quickly replied. "I'll be ready, thank you!"

I got up early on Wednesday, made sure everything was in my camera case; camera, strobe light , extra batteries, spare bulbs for the two portable lights I was taking and plenty of extra film. I left the house giving myself plenty of time to arrive at her house on time. I like to be prompt. Traffic was light so my timing worked out well.

I parked in front of her house, grabbed my camera case and the two lights, and headed up the walk.

George opened the door. "Come on in." We walked into the living room where I sat my equipment down next to the couch where Sherri was sitting again. George said. "DeeDee will be right out."

When DeeDee made her entrance, wearing a really sexy outfit I hadn't seen before, she announced. "I'm ready!"

George said. "So that we don't disturb you two while you're taking pictures, Sherri and I are going to take off for a couple of hours. I understand that you and DeeDee plan to go down by the river to take some outdoors. We'll probably be here when you get back."

Sherri broke into the conversation. "Hi Mike. Maybe you could take some pictures of me later?"

I smiled. "Sure!"

George and Sherri left.

I looked at DeeDee with a puzzled expression on my face. "Have you and Sherri been talking?"

She smiled. "Sherri thinks she would like to be a model. She certainly has the body for it. And she's pretty. I told her that if you were willing to do a photo shoot with her, she could use any of my costumes or clothes that she can make work for her. I told her you were taking some nude ones of me. I watched to see her reaction. She just smiled and said I'm proud of my body, so it's fine.

Mike, maybe you can figure out some way to fasten the back of some of them with a temporary extension. The back won't show in most of the photos anyway. She will definitely spill out of some of them! Some of them she can just leave unfastened in front, gapping open. She says she has some of her own clothes that would work. She's excited."

I was pleasantly surprised. I had hoped that this might happen.

"I would love to do a photo shoot with her."

DeeDee replied. "Sherri asked if George and I would leave for a couple of hours, so she wouldn't be as nervous as she would be if we were here. I told her I understood. That it was fine, we'd be happy to do that for her."

We spent a little over an hour with her changing outfits and me suggesting poses and taking photos. She was a natural at posing and quick at changing from her work at the bar. Then I took several with her nude, in different poses. She changed into a bikini and sandals. I only needed the camera for outdoor work and left my lights setting by the couch. We got in my car and drove down to the river. She posed several ways, some in the bikini, and since there was no one else down by the river some nude. We drove back to her house. George and Sherri were back so we just walked in and into the living room.

I should explain that this photo shoot was done on a very professional level,

I wasn't about to do anything dumb and upset her.

George was a big burly guy! He asked. "How'd it go?"

DeeDee spoke up. "Oh, everything went great. I think Mike got some really good shots today that will be just what I wanted."

Sherri asked excitedly. "Do I really get a photo shoot?"

DeeDee answered the question for me, "Mike and I discussed everything. You just need to relax and let Mike guide you. As soon as I change George and I are going to take off, giving you two at least three hours. You're only going to be shooting here but since Sherri doesn't have any experience and you will be trying to make my things fit her it will take a lot longer."

Sherri had the brightest smile. I wished I had captured it. DeeDee went to the bedroom. When she came back to the living room she had changed into a pretty dress.

As she and George were leaving DeeDee said. "You two have fun, we'll see you later."

The fun part of my day was now ready to start. I had no idea how it was going to play out. Later I would realize that earlier I really had NO idea.

Sherri excitedly wanted to know. "Where do we start?"

I said. "First let's go pick out what you want to wear and go from there."

She jumped up and headed straight for her aunt's closet. She would pull something out of the closet. We'd look at it to decide if we could make it fit. Those we thought would work she laid on the bed, some went back in the closet because there was no way to fit her DD chest in them.

Then she headed for her room. I followed, admiring the way she bounced down the hallway. This house was different from most. Instead of having a master suite with its own bathroom and then two smaller bedrooms and a bathroom in the hall this house was unique. There were two matching large suites with their own bathroom plus a guest half bath off the hallway. There was no third bedroom. Sherri started going thru her closet.

It looked nearly empty compared to DeeDee's collection of clothes. I had to remember that she had only been there about a month.

She had a couple of things that I was sure would look great on her.

I suggested. "Let's start with this," picking up a really sexy outfit, "You will be more relaxed in something you know fits you well. Change and meet me at the couch."

I went out to the living room, got my camera out and took DeeDee's last roll out of the camera, replacing it with a new roll of 36. I turned my lights on. I hate shadows unless it's intentional. When I turned around, standing right behind me was this gorgeous young lady with that same bright smile. I took a deep breath so I could let the sight sink in. I stepped around her and said. "Step over into the spot light and turn around facing me." She did as I had instructed. She still had that beautiful smile, just beaming at me. CLICK! I had captured her smile.

I backed up a bit to fit all of her in the frame and not just her face. I instructed and she posed in her sexy little outfit for a few photos.

This was getting off to a good start. "Go change to the other outfit in your room and come back."

After she had changed and was back I instructed her on how to pose on the couch. I took a few more photos, getting her to change facial expressions.

I asked her. "You doing OK?" With that same smile on her face she instantly replied. "This is fun!"

I said. "Let's go to DeeDee's room and get you dressed in some of her outfits."

She jumped up and headed down the hall but turned in to her room. I went into DeeDee's room and a few seconds later Sherri walked into the room.

What a nice surprise. She was NAKED!

I grinned. "Do you remember a song with a line about 'you have a beautiful body'? That is a perfect description of you!"

She blushed a little. "I was going to have to undress anyway while you help me dress in Aunt DeeDee's things. It's fine. I'm comfortable."

The first outfit we tried to get her into just wasn't going to work. The next one must have been loose on DeeDee because I was able to get her tucked in even if it was tight on her. Damn, her skin was soft to the touch. Back out to the lights in the living room. Some photos were her on the couch. Some others were posing her in front of a blank wall. We went back and forth, bedroom to living room, getting her into several outfits. Yes, there were some she couldn't close in the front but she just let them hang open. She was proudly posing. We had run out of things for her to pose in.

She said. "Can we take some in my bedroom on the bed?"

I did not hesitate! We went to her bedroom. The bedroom had overhead lighting and I had grabbed the strobe light out of my case.

She turned the covers partly down. She lay down on the bed on her tummy, propped up on her elbows. "Is this OK?" Click. She sat up and turned this way and that. Click, click, click. She turned over on her back and curled up. Click.

Suddenly she sat up, motioned for me to come closer. Of course I did. She looked into my eyes. I was just enjoying the beautiful sight in front of me.

She hesitated and then spoke in a very serious manner. "I've been on the pill since I was 16. I convinced my mom it would help regulate my cycle. The last year my boyfriend and I were very active sexually. I've been out here for a month... With NO sex. Will you join me? I need a good pounding!" She leaned back and spread her legs.

 

I almost could not believe what I was hearing. But it was happening right in front of me. I glanced at my watch. We had over an hour before George and DeeDee were due back. I checked the camera to see how many frames I had left.

I said. "You know damned good and well that I will! You've been teasing me for the last hour! Naked half the time. And you seemed to want me to tuck you in when outfits were tight."

She coyly asked. "Have you enjoyed our afternoon?"

I answered. "tremendously! And it's about to get better! I have two frames left on this roll."

She instructed me. "Save them for later."

While I was setting the camera down and getting undressed in record time she tossed to covers all the way down, placed a pillow in the middle of the bed and lay down on her back with her butt on the pillow.

She said. "I like it deep and hard. Pound me!"

I closed the bedroom door before walking to the bed. I got onto the bed on my knees between her legs. I leaned down, holding my upper body weight on my arms, until her DD breasts were pressing into my chest. We shared our first kiss. It was sensual, almost passionate, long and deep. This young lady could kiss!

I raised back up, and prepared to enter her. She took hold of my rock hard cock and guided my into her pussy until the head was in and then moved her hand out of the way. I slowly pushed all the way in, in one long slow stroke. DAMN she was wet and tight! I started pulling back out as slowly as I had entered her.

She was making little sounds. " OOH! Ummm!"

I pulled out until just the head was in and started to do it again. She pleaded. "Don't tease me! Pound me!"

I gave her that slow deep stroke plus one more just to tease her. She was lifting her butt to try to get me deeper. It was time. I drove my hard cock into her tight young pussy, my balls slapping into her ass every time I hit bottom. She only lasted 4 or 5 strokes until she had her first orgasm.

Her sounds were louder. "AAHHH! OOOH! YES!"

I just stayed deep until her vaginal muscles released their grip on my cock. I went back to teasing her with 3 slow deep strokes. She was whimpering softly.

I started pounding hard into her at a fast pace. This time she lasted about a dozen strokes before her second orgasm over powered her senses.

Her noises were getting loud now. "UUNGG! MMMM! AAAHH!"

I stayed deep again pressing my cock against her cervix until her vaginal muscles again released their grip. I was determined to hold myself back. I usually had pretty good control. I teased her again with 3 slow deep strokes, then started thrusting hard but at about half speed. I continued for a few minutes, but that feeling in my balls was getting stronger. I started the final charge, hard and fast.

I only lasted about 8 strokes before I shot a huge load of cum into her pussy.

I managed about three more thrusts depositing more cum on each thrust.

My climax triggered an intense orgasm for her. She was almost screaming now, most were unintelligible. I was glad there was no one else in the house.

They would have thought I was hurting her. I stayed deep for a little while, waiting for her to come down off her high. Finally I reluctantly pulled out of her and watched our juices run down her crack and onto the pillow. I stood up and grabbed some tissues off the night stand by the bed. With one hand I was wiping my cock so I wouldn't drip on the carpet. My other hand grabbed a bunch of tissues, handing them to Sherri, so she could clean up our mess. I looked down at her. Her expression was pure tranquility.

She took a deep breath. "GOD I NEEDED THAT!" Another deep breath. "Thank you."

My response was honest. "You're welcome. It was OUR pleasure."

She slid off the pillow, scooted to the edge of the bed and stood up in front of me.

I hadn't been at all worried about her getting pregnant. It didn't matter if she was really on the pill or not. Right after my divorce I had gone to the doctor and gotten a vasectomy. I had two beautiful daughters. I didn't want to start another family.

She put her arms around me, giving me tightest hug. "That was wonderful, but we need a shower!"

She headed to her bathroom with me following. The shower was a large walk-in one with a big glass door that opened wide. We stepped into the shower and I closed the door. She turned the water on, adjusting it to warm.

We soaped, scrubbed, hugged and kissed. I was trying to keep my hair and beard out of the spray from the shower.

Sherri was standing directly under the spray rinsing her long hair and the last of the soap off. She turned the water off. I opened the door and stepped out, grabbing two large towels off the towel bar, handing her one. I started drying my hair and beard, then the rest of my body.

Sherri was still standing in the shower. "Go get your camera."

I walked into her bedroom, picked up the camera and went back into the bathroom. The bright lights over the vanity were shining on her thru the open shower door. She had the towel in one hand down by her hip. She bent one knee and struck a pose.

She said, "I wanted you to have this picture." Click.

She raised her arms up, holding the towel behind her head. This lifted her DD breasts, making then jut out. She turned a little giving me a profile view. Click.

We finished drying off, but her hair was still pretty wet. We walked into her bedroom. While I was getting dressed, she pulled a blouse out of her closet and a pair of shorts out of the dresser. She was barefoot.

I opened the bedroom door and was relieved that George and DeeDee were not back yet. I went to the couch to put my camera and strobe light away, zipping my case shut. I rolled 2 power cords for the lamps up and tossed them on top of my case. Sherri had detoured thru the kitchen and was walking across the living room carrying two cans of Coke.

She held one out to me. "We really need these."

We sat down on the couch. We popped the Cokes open and were talking about how fantastic our afternoon had been. Our drinks were almost empty when we heard George's car in the driveway. I thought good thing the sex was fast and furious, and that we didn't linger too long in the shower.

DeeDee and George walked in the front door and into the living room.

DeeDee immediately wanted to know. "Did the photo shoot go OK?"

I answered. "Oh, it went better than OK. We managed to get Sherri dressed in enough outfits to create a good shoot. She's a quick learner on posing and expressions."

DeeDee was looking at us intently. "Sherri, your hair is all WET!"

Before DeeDee could ask any questions Sherri cut her off.

"I was hot when we finished so I took a quick shower. Mike was so good with me.

Walking me thru the whole shoot. Explaining to me as we went how to pose and change expressions. I'm sure Mike got some really good shots."

Before this conversation could go any farther I set my empty can on the table by the couch and stood up. I walked over to shake George's hand. "Thank you for being so considerate about the photo shoots and for being so gracious allowing me to use your home."

I stepped over in front of DeeDee. "I had two great photo shoots today. Thank you for everything."

She stepped forward and gave me a little hug. "No, Thank you for all you are doing for Sherri and me."

I turned around and walked back to the couch where Sherri was standing.

"Thank you for being such a fast learner. You made my day much easier. We got some great shots of you today."

She wrapped her arms tightly around me giving me a really tight hug. She raised up on her tip toes. I reflexively leaned down to meet her. We shared a short but very sweet kiss. We parted and I stepped back just a step.

She said. "I had fun. Thank you for...EVERYTHING!" I knew what she meant.

We all discussed how the rest of the process would happen, like I had explained to DeeDee. I picked up my camera case and two cords in one hand and my two lights in the other. George was holding the door open for me as we all said goodbye. I walked out to my car.

DAMN, I LIKE BEING A FREELANCE PHOTOGRAPHER!

I hope you enjoyed reading my true story. It is one of my favorite memories from years ago. I remember it like it was last week. I appreciate your vote.

Doing My Duty

 

I recognise now that I always had a thing about authority and deference to those who I saw as being my 'betters'. I didn't know it at the time but I guess it was the attitude that I was raised on and my folks had always taught me to be respectful and be mindful of my place. My Daddy, a wise and thoughtful man, was always very clear; he said it was a 'duty' to do as you were told by your superiors, like it or not, and that's the way things should be.

So, it never occurred to me to be anything different and I'm thinking that is where my submissive nature stems from. Nowhere was that more true when growing up through my teen years and starting to take more interest in girls that due to my respect for others I hardly ever made it past second base before the girl I had met would blow me away (not in a good way!) in favour of someone more dominant leaving me to my fantasies and the attentions of my right hand. All the way through High School I used to get into fights with black kids and a lot of the time the fights would stem from the fact that they seemed to have more success with girls, white girls, than I did which filled me with a sense of resentment toward them.

That's not to say that I never had a mind of my own, no Sir, I like to think I have always had my own ways of dealing with things and 'at the end of the day', my life, despite a few obstacles along the way, has turned out pretty good.

We lived in the city of Detroit and my parents kept a tight rein on me but both had health issues and, sadly, passed within a short period and I was forced into moving out of our rented apartment. I remembered that my Dad used to say, "Kevin, see any problem? Take it as an opportunity to do something different!"

Well, thanks Dad, but being evicted from the family home was a little more than just a problem to me but I could hear him saying the words and the fact that he was a veteran from the war and had always told great tales of his time it put my mind toward enlisting in the Army. I had no ties to the area in Michigan where we lived; I had no other relatives to bond with; I'd never made great friends with anyone from school or around my district so, in short, joining the Army would tick a lot of boxes and get me away from the unexciting and sheltered upbringing that I had bought up with.

The 6 months I spent at Fort Benning was a revelation. It was tough going and I learned a lot about myself. Even though I was above average height, that didn't protect me much when it came to being singled out by the Drill Sergeants for doing things not quite right; in fact, being a big guy seemed to encourage criticism and after a while I came to expect it. The other thing that I discovered was that I kinda enjoyed being humiliated!

My posting out of Benning was another revelation, I was assigned to an overseas unit, in Korea, which was a thrill for up until that point in my life I had never been out of State let alone the country. I didn't have any great expectations of being in a foreign country, especially one that was so culturally different from home but it was kinda cool! What wasn't so good was the unit I was assigned to which had the meanest Platoon Sergeant who seemed to delight in making everyone under his command feel like shit.

He was an older black guy and it was the first time I experienced 'reverse-racism' for he really didn't like white guys and he was especially mean to anyone in the platoon who didn't share his skin colour. I don't know if it was my height that singled me out for special attention but, for sure, he didn't give me any peace and was always finding something to criticize and an excuse for me to pull extra duties. It became it a bit of a joke in the company that I, the new guy, seemed to have found a special friend in the Sergeant because I seemed to be spending so much of my so-called off-duty time doing chores and cleaning out his office.

If it wasn't bad enough my sense of being subservient to blacks was emphasised when the local whorehouse in town which was staffed by Filipino girls charged black guys less than they did whites because 'sex with blacks was better'! That was made very clear to me when one night I visited and I watched three black soldiers gangbang a Filipino girl. I remember watching being her bent over a table or something and one of them raised up her skirt, pulled her panties down and then each of them took a turn. I will never forget hearing her soft moaning while she took it like a champ. When they were done the semen was dripping out of her pussy and down her legs and inner thighs and she stayed like that for a minute eyes closed, soft whimpering even after they had left!

Despite everything I had enjoyed my first time of being in a foreign country and that brief time in the far East although the combination of the local culture and my shyness had denied me meeting up with women (unless you were prepared to pay!) but, unfortunately, it was not to last for the tour of duty in Korea came to an early end and our unit was reassigned back to the States. There was no reason given to us lesser mortals but on the plus side, I didn't have a lot of time to get used to being back in the US as the unit was posted in the opposite direction, this time to Europe.

Germany was a complete contrast. The way of life there was more recognisable to my own way of thinking and I felt a lot more comfortable when going off-duty and off-base, visiting the local towns and doing stuff. The base was like all US units overseas, a 'little America' and us cold-war warriors, the soldiers and personnel serving there, wanted for nothing to make feel like we were at home. The structure and the facilities were all very familiar and I guess if you stayed on base you would find it hard to know you were anywhere other than being back home.

However, there was something else that turned out to be the same for when the unit was reassigned I had a brief spell of relief that the sadistic Platoon Sergeant wasn't coming with us (I think he was retiring from the Army) and a new Sergeant posted in. As with his predecessor, he was big; he was black and, in a different way, he was mean.

He soon learned that amongst all the other guys in the platoon that I was the only one to hail from his home state of Michigan, although in temperament we couldn't have been more different as he seemed to be more like a street-wise thug and although he knew I was also from Detroit, for whatever reason, he regarded me as if I was a simple country-boy from the upper peninsula and used to call me 'Yooper'!. However, he took the fact that we were both from the same state and city as being some kind of bond and I was soon being singled out for his attention. I soon learned it didn't pay to cross the guy.

Despite having to deal with yet another mean bastard as my superior, the tour in Germany started out really well. Once I had got used to the quaint kind of way of life of the Germans followed I began to appreciate that maybe the American way wasn't the only way to enjoy yourself and that as my Daddy used to say, "Kevin, it is good to expand your horizons".

The other good thing was that I met a girl and for the first time in my life I had a steady date.

Her name was Renate and she, like me, was a little bit shy which I guess stemmed from her being a country girl who didn't know too much about city ways. She waited on tables at a Schnell Imbiss, a kind of fast food restaurant at a local village and she took a shine to me one time when I stopped by to sample German hamburger. (My high school education had told me that Hamburg was an actual place!)

I reckon it must have been the either the uniform that dazzled her or maybe my chatty down-home charm that impressed her but, whatever the reason, before long we were making dates, I was learning to speak some German and, for the first time in my life I felt like a 'normal' person having a proper relationship with the opposite sex.

She was a sweet girl and had a head of auburn hair which I was soon to discover was the colour of the fuzz around her pussy. She lived with her parents on a farm and having been bought up around animals was quite open about sex and seemed to have few inhibitions when it came to 'human fucking'. Indeed, once we progressed beyond the handshaking stage of our relationship she didn't need much encouragement and I could always count on our evenings ending with my dick being pleasured by her beautiful warm and willing pussy. Yeah, it was a great time.

It was not to last.

I figure it was my mistake when I started to take Renate onto the base to the Saturday night dances in the clubs and some of the social events that were frequently held. As I said, she was a fine looking woman with her red-hair and all and it didn't take long before the other guys, including my sergeant, were hitting on her and making disparaging comments about me in their attempts at turning her head. At first it was all done in fun and she soon got used to having to bat away some of the stupid comments, dismissing the remarks as just, 'the American Way' but it had its downside for she also learned that, if she hadn't already known it already, that she had grown into an attractive woman who could use those assets to her advantage.

The base had everything to make the less adventurous ex-pats feel right at-home but for a fitness freak like myself the local sports centre in the local town was a better option with more modern gym equipment and an indoor pool to relax in after a work-out session. It also had a Sauna which, up to that time, was something I had only read about but had never experienced. The idea of legally sharing space with strangers without your clothes on was for me a fantasy come true and pretty soon I was taking every opportunity when off-duty to go and work-out at this German Gym knowing the evening would end up being half-naked in the Sauna. Sometimes Renate would come with me but she wasn't really interested in the gym but more to have a swim and to take the Sauna.

Maybe I should have kept my mouth shut about it for it was the gym that was the beginning of the end as far as my romance with Renate was concerned.

The Sergeant, like myself, kept himself in shape with a regular exercise regime and when he heard me boasting about what the German fitness centre had on offer he decided that, like it or not, that he would accompany me. I was in no position to refuse and so it became a regular thing that despite the fact that I didn't like the guy we would go together, work-out and then end up in the Sauna before going home. It was also a time when I saw for myself just how large a black man's cock could be in comparison to a white boy's. I thought that I was no slouch in the size department but I was kinda shocked the first time we were in the changing room and he without any inhibition dropped his pants and let this monster black snake flop down before he changed into his sweat pants. He saw me looking and laughed.

I'm thinking that this was the first time I started to have thoughts about how it would be to playing with such a magnificent looking thing but there was no way that I was going to chance my luck with this mean bastard and ask for permission to touch it!

I soon learned that his interest in the fitness centre wasn't so much about the exercising, it was more that he saw it as a place to pick up girls and he made no attempt to hide it when we used to go into the dark cabin with our towels wrapped around our waists and he would flirt with any female who happened to be there. I used to smile to myself at some of the storylines he would spout but it was clear from their reaction that some of the ladies present found his chat amusing and they would in halting English give as good as he gave. Especially Renate who by now had come to know him a little better from the times she had been on base.

I was quite content to sit back and listen to the idle chatter and to take in the sight of bare-titted woman who were also careless about how well their towels were placed over their laps and I'm guessing that they reciprocated the interest because they couldn't take their eyes off the semi-hard dick that was tenting the Sergeant's own towel. I know that because Renate mentioned it to me some time later.

My good times at the fitness centre came to an end when one evening we were stopped as we were leaving and told that complaints had been made about 'the Americans exposing themselves in a crude manner' and that we were banned from attending in future. Renate was with us acting as interpreter with this official and I was pissed as I knew it wasn't me that was being accused but rather that it was the Sergeant who had obviously upset someone after I had left him in the Sauna. It was even more ironic when I learned that it wasn't the women who had complained but rather their wimpy husbands who had been outraged at the black man's success in getting their attention; leastways that's how Renate, who had stayed in the Sauna with him, told it.

It was after the Sauna incident that things started to sour between me and the Sergeant. There was no way he could have blamed me for what happened but obviously he held me responsible for the humiliation of being thrown out and had decided to take out his anger on me. Soon I was finding that I had been scheduled for guard duties at night or being told I was weekend working. I was often detached for a two week spell to another unit that was on security detail on the border between East and West Germany. It seemed to me that the mean black bastard was doing all he could to keep me away from pursuing my romance with Renate...

... And the reason I came to this conclusion was that after I returned from one border detachment I discovered that he had been regularly fucking her!

She didn't deny it when I confronted her, which hurt me a lot, but it became even more humiliating when she said that if she was asked for a preference then she preferred to be fucked by his black dick rather than mine. She didn't go into great detail as to why but said that he could keep going all night (implying, unlike me, he wasn't a one-shot kind of guy) and that he was so much bigger. Then she really rubbed it in by saying that he often took her to places where I wasn't allowed entry such as the Senior NCO's clubs which had great entertainment. No surprises then that our relationship fizzled out and she left me so that once more I was reduced to making love to my right hand!

The remainder of my Germany tour passed by without any other intimate relationship with the local women which was also a sort of humiliation because it was clear that many of my predecessors had scored given there were quite a few German single-women around who were pushing strollers with mixed-race babies or toddlers in tow. Given that the only coloured men around the area were US soldiers it didn't take a great imagination to know that my coloured compatriots had been responsible.

Still, remembering the words of my old Dad who had told me 'in times of conflict' to look for opportunity, I used this situation to confront what I had been denying for so long, that I preferred the company of men to women; that my feelings had been fired by seeing the sergeant's black cock. Despite my animosity toward the mean bastard, I had to admit to myself that it had been a good time and that I had learned a lot about myself. Now, having been so firmly rejected by Renate I took this as a signal that maybe I should be turning my attentions in a different direction.

The US military at that time didn't take too kindly to any homosexual tendencies between their troops but I had became a buddy to, funnily enough, a black soldier. Shawn was the same age as me but he was unlike the others of his kind in the platoon and we had the same kind of attitudes and, let's admit it, sensitivities. My friendship with him became a game-changer.

It became our habit if knew we had a free weekend coming up we would plan to hit a big city where we could tour the bars and do what off-duty soldiers do even though I wasn't really a fan of alcohol. One time we got too drunk to make the drive back to base so we got a hotel room together. We turned on the TV in the room and next thing I knew we were lying on our beds masturbating to interracial porn. I soon noticed his black dick, although it wasn't yet stiff, was just as big as our sergeant's and one thing led to another and, with his encouragement I ended up going down on him. He quickly achieved an erection and maintained it while I struggled to release my somewhat more little one from my pants. I lowered my head, went down and sucked him off and I was pleased with my efforts when with a grunt he spurted his cum down my throat. I really enjoyed it and remembered Daddy's advice, conflict should be seen as an opportunity to do something better!

My time in Germany and my military career came to an early end when I was posted back home to be discharged from the service. The reason for my premature departure was never clearly stated but I discovered later that there was something that had been placed on my record about 'conduct prejudicial to ....' Given that the military was in the process of down-sizing it seemed to me that any excuse was good enough for selecting personnel for discharge. The only person who could have made that entry on my record was the mean bastard who had had taken Renate away from me (or 'Reina' as he kept referring to her as) and although I could do nothing about the decision it just made me hate the guy even more. My bad feelings toward him went up to another level when I discovered that not only had he taken my girl away from me but that after I had departed for home that he actually married her.

My thoughts at the time were along the lines of 'Good Riddance' but I also remembered another thing that Daddy had impressed upon me which was that I should just regard this as another chapter of my life to put behind me. Little did I think when I boarded the plane for home that it was not the last time I would see them.

* * * * *

I returned home and after a few months I got my discharge from the Army on 'administrative grounds' (official speak for downsizing the military) and made plans and set about looking for a job. I returned to Detroit figuring I had a better chance of finding work there. I had no great list of skills and it was a frustrating time due to the depression that the country was experiencing but I was a big, fit guy and my 'job' in the Army had been mainly to deal with 'security' so I was kind of relieved when I saw an ad calling for a 'Hospitality Security Consultant' with a fancy name company just out of town.

I called the number and was given an address of a hotel located North of the city and invited to attend the following day for an interview. I hadn't twigged when given the address that this was in the area known as '8 mile' but soon became very aware when I drove there that this was not the smartest part of town. I was also confused when I got there that the address wasn't so much a hotel, more of a collection of lo-rise which made it look more like a motel, and at the back of the lot was a building with a neon sign which declared itself to be a Night Club.

I checked in at the main reception building and was directed through to the patio out back where a couple sat with their drinks and both looked up as I came through the door. They were both, I guessed, in their mid-to-late 40s and while the guy had a friendly way but condescending kind of manner about him, she seemed to be a bit stand-offish and looked me over as if she was inspecting a piece of meat. He shook my hand in greeting and introduced himself as Eric. He nodded toward the woman and said, "My wife, Desiree ...." She didn't made no move, continued her stare and didn't say a word.

He thought he would put me at my ease by calling the bartender and ordering me a drink. I didn't like to tell him that I wasn't a drinking man but thought it best just to accept the vodka cocktail that the barkeep bought. Once he had watch me take a gulp he then started asking me all the expected sort of questions about myself, my background, education, work experience and marital status and such, glancing at his wife from time-to-time, I'm guessing to check she was satisfied with my answers.

As I said, I'm not a drinker, never had been, but not wishing to offend I nervously gulped down the drinks that the bartender kept bringing even although I hadn't ordered any more. It became very hard to concentrate on what Eric then went on to tell me about the business he was running and what my part in it would be ... if I took the job. I'm also guessing that he sensed my desperation at finding work for when I eventually asked about the job description and the responsibilities of the impressive sounding title he had no embarrassment when he said, "A Doorman, a Meet-and-Greeter at the Club."

My face didn't betray my disappointment (I hoped!) and I swallowed my pride at my expectations being misled by the fancy executive-sounding job title and I meekly nodded my understanding at what he was telling me. He then elaborated on what I would be required to do which pretty much sounded as if I would not only be acting as a Bouncer to keep out the rough guys but also be a kind of go-fer for some of the well-heeled customers who had to be kept well provided with what the club had to offer. It all sounded a bit vague but he was persuasive in his manner and had clearly sensed how much I needed work so I made a show of thinking things over before saying, "Yeah, I think I can do that, when do I start?"

"Not so fast."

It was the first time I heard Desiree speak. "We need to check on a few things first to confirm your suitability. I'm getting the impression that you really need this job so let's just say that up to now you have passed the Theoretical part of the interview; now we need to do the Practical and, just so you know, from now on in you will address me as 'Mistress' and my husband as 'Master'!

"Let's take a walk and see just how much you want to work for us ...."

Master Eric smirked to see my confusion as Mistress Desiree stood up and walked away toward the foyer. She stopped at the doorway and when she saw that I hadn't moved almost barked an order, "Come on, follow me!"

Man, she was scary .. but I did as she asked and meekly trailed behind her. She led the way down a corridor to one of the hotel rooms and once we were inside she shocked me by telling me to get undressed. I hesitated and asked if I had heard her right. This irritated her and she repeated her command as if she was talking to a child, she hissed, "Get undressed!"

I was so drunk and nervous that I complied.

She looked on as I discarded my clothes and once I was standing there naked except for my socks she walked over, took the belt from my pants and tied it around my neck just like it was a dog leash. I hung my head in shame and straightaway she tugged on it and led me over toward the bed. The weirdness continued when I lifted my head and saw that Eric was standing there also naked and stroking his cock.

"Get down on your knees and suck him," was the next thing I heard and by this time I was so confused as to how I had ended up in this situation that I did just that without any hesitation.

"Hmm, I think he's done it before .... ," she said as she pulled off her own clothes down to just wearing only a black thong, " ... that's it, show me how you are going to get him good and stiff." She pushed past me and lay on the bed.

Eric reacted to my efforts and as I sucked on his dick I could feel it getting stiffer. I suppose if I had been half the man I thought myself to be then I would have been repulsed by being made to perform this act but I wasn't. Even in my drunken state it was not as if I could forget having done this before in the hotel in Germany with Shawn when it had been an exciting experience. However, that time it had been by consent with a friendly black guy who had been gentle toward me and not at all aggressive like these two domineering persons who had pretty much tricked me into going into the bedroom.

Mistress Desiree kept urging me to suck Master Eric's cock and I did so. I then followed her instructions to kiss his hanging balls. I did so with reverence and then I kissed the tip and used my tongue to lick his shaft before I took him in my mouth. She told me, "You will fellate very slow and sensually". I wasn't sure what she meant by such odd words and I looked up at her only for her to tell me not to look at her but look up into 'Master's eyes'. What I saw on Eric's face was a hard stare that was rough, intense.

He let me suck on him for a few minutes and then he decided he had had enough of me and I was told to go and sit in the corner of the room. He waited until I was seated and then he joined Mistress Desiree on the bed, pulled the thong to one side and they began to have sex. She looked over at me dispassionately and said I was allowed to take pictures with my phone and that she wanted to see me to get hold of my dick and masturbate.

I found my phone and with a shaking hand began to take pictures but I was so confused from the vodka they had plied me that when I tried to masturbate with my other shaking hand I couldn't get it up and I cried a little, feeling humiliated and useless.

I daren't move from my seat and I watched as the 49 year-old Master Eric fucked Mistress Desiree like a stallion. They went at it for well over an hour in different positions with her moaning loudly while at the same time they were keeping an eye on me sitting meekly on my chair. Eventually she lost interest in me and I saw her eyes roll back in her head as she clawed his back with her fingertips and for them to orgasm at the same time.

Master Eric lay still for a moment still buried in her before rolling off to one side. His cock looked to be just as stiff as when I last saw him spear her hairy cunt only, now, it was wet, shiny and covered in their combined goo. From where I sat, her pussy looked to be just as messy.

Mistress lifted her head and looked over toward me and confused me further by saying matter-of-factly as if what I had witnessed or been told to do was nothing, " ... another part of the job will require you to provide clean-up duties." She looked at her husband's dribbling cock and then meaningfully down at her own smeared body, "Well, what are you waiting for ... just how much do you want this job?"

Through my befuddled brain, I got the message and went over to the bed.

* * * * *

I've been working at the club now for more years than I care to remember. Yeah, for sure, I am nominally regarded as being a doorman/bouncer or whatever fancy title they have me down as on the IRS tax returns but in truth I am the 'go to go-fer' for the rich well-heeled clients who come to the club in their fancy cars with their fancy women. I don't tend the bar; we have 'hostesses' for that but when it's something that is required that is not on the bar menu then it is up to me to get it, the 'it' being commodities like lap-dancers who do more than dance; Coke that doesn't come in cans and, what has become my speciality, I have a contact list of men who, like me, are addicted to the smell and the taste of cum and know just how to get it.

It has been a gradual process to admit to my being completely gay but looking back I think that it was the job interview and the humiliation that Master Eric and Mistress Desiree put me through that set the course. The humiliations of that day have long been put to the back of my mind and what I now take from the experience is the excitement that I felt from being made to suck cock and how pleased I was with myself for making my Master spurt once more after him having only just cum inside his wife.

Clearly, I passed the test or I wouldn't have the job I am now enjoying and from time-to-time in recognition of my work performance I am called to the office and rewarded with a bonus of Master Eric letting me suck his cock before he fucks my ass. Thankfully, there has been no repeat of the embarrassment of that first time when I wasn't able to get an erection and now there is nothing more blissful than to feel my ass being fucked with his fat cock and his hands to be wanking my own stiff penis till we both cum.

That is not to suggest that I have not tried to suppress these feelings and be the heterosexual male for I did have a long-time girlfriend, Trina, and although we did have proper sex I think she suspected that my heart wasn't in it especially when, just like that first time at the hotel, I couldn't get up or, even worse, that I would shoot my load within seconds of getting into her.

Then the accusations started that I 'wasn't a proper man' and in my attempt to prove her wrong I began to mess around with other women which didn't sit too well with her when she found out. The final straw was broken when she said that we should seal our relationship by me giving her what she really wanted, a baby. When after a few months of me trying (and failing) I admit to letting my frustration turn into aggression and there may have been a few times when I slapped her around a bit. Unsurprisingly, this did not bode well and I came home from working at the club one night to find a note and all her things gone; Trina had left me.

She never did answer my calls but it was a few months later that I bumped into her in the Mall and she was hanging on the arm of this tall black guy and obviously she was very much in love. What was also obvious was that she was pregnant and after the initial surprise of us meeting again Trina took great satisfaction in telling me that she had met someone who knew how to treat a woman properly.

That remark hurt but I guess it also confirmed in my mind that I had never really been too bothered about gaining the affections of the opposite sex and that my interests and satisfactions were more likely to be found with my 'own kind'.

I never did make a declaration that I had 'come out of the closet', apparently my preference was something that had long been recognised and accepted by those around me and whom I worked with. My orientation, I discovered later, was a factor in getting the job. Master Eric told me in confidence one time after he had finished giving me my 'bonus' that there had been trouble at the club in the past with some of the Bouncers that they employed hitting on the girls and causing trouble. There had been a couple of incidents when matters got out of hand and the police had to be called and, as Eric said, "... the last thing we needed was the cops taking an interest in my place."

I understood what he was saying for, let's say, the entertainment and the services on offer were not exactly what could be regarded as legit! Anyway, he said that he and Mistress Desiree decided that a solution to that particular problem would be in future to employ people who had no inclination or designs on the women they worked with! Unknown to me, it was my lack of performing that was the reason I passed the job interview.

A typical night's work for me is to greet the high-rollers who come to the club with plenty of money and high expectations. My job is to see them to a booth in what is laughingly referred to as the VIP suite and if they haven't already come accompanied with a partner to make certain that a girl or two is provided along with their first complimentary drink. I have come to know their preferences and they have no need to tell me what drink they like to have or what type of girl they want to be sucking their cocks.

Presently working the night shift is a fine choice and I'm there to look out for them all and make sure that they don't get into any kind of trouble. There is Kayla, a 22 years old white girl, very curvy with a big booty who likes to give the impression that she is very shy (which the patrons love) and she will claim that she is just a waitress, not a stripper, but everyone knows that she is a very imaginative and accomplished whore who will do anything for money.

Others that I look out for is Armani, a slim petite white girl with black hair and her best friend Lexie, a big booty blond white girl with tits that she just loves to show off to anyone who has the cash. A favourite of mine is Harmony, a tall black girl with a body that I guess is best described as being like an Amazon. All of them feel safe in my presence knowing that I am there to look after their best interests and that I have no designs on them in a sexual sense. They know too well where I seek my pleasures and that it's not a pussy that interests me!

As I mentioned, it's been a few years now that I have been doing this job and I thought that I had seen most things and become a little blasé at what went on under the guise of 'entertainment'. Night after night I would observe 'my girls' quickly get down to business and in the subdued lighting of the VIP suite see them without hesitation be pulling and sucking on the stiff cocks of our customers. Providing the John had enough money they might then take the man (or men!) to one of the adjacent lounges where a bed was provided so that they could earn an extra bonus by having their brains fucked out in comfort. Some of the customers might be too impatient to wait to make the trip and I had often seen Lexie, Harmony or the others be bent over the table of the booth and be fucked doggy style as if it was the most natural thing in the world. Nobody objected just as long as the money was paid.

That's not to say that I had become incapable of being surprised. Last week I was pre-warned to expect a particular rich dude who was expecting to be treated to really good night of the kind of entertainment that the club specialised. Master Eric told me about the reservation made under the name of 'Jeff' and said that the guy needed to be treated with consideration (as if I would do anything but!) as he had some kind of business proposition to make. My boss said he was also aware that the guy was some kind of number with the local mob and had better be treated with respect or there would be consequences for everyone concerned, especially me!

I wasn't too concerned by the warning, we'd had entertained plenty of shady characters in the past and they'd always gone away satisfied so I figured that this guy, whoever he might be, would be no different. How wrong could I have been?

I waited at the appointed time outside the doorway and have to admit that I was impressed to see a luxury SUV, an import (Jaguar, I'm guessing) pull into the driveway. My admiration turned to shock when the driver got out and opened up the back door to let his passenger out, it was my old platoon sergeant from Germany dressed in a sharp suit and wearing that same superior smirk that I remembered from our days together. I recognised him immediately. Whether there was any recognition on his part when I greeted him I couldn't tell as he was wearing a wrap-around pair of shades but he certainly didn't make any sign that he had identified me.

The next surprise came when the driver went around to the other side of the car and held the door open. Out stepped my old girlfriend Renate looking very glamorous and dressed in a style I can only described as how I would expect to see a whore; there was no other way to describe it. She smiled as 'Sarge' took her hand and said in that quaint German accent, "Thank you, Jeffie," but completely ignored me as I led them through to the VIP lounge.

Once I had got them settled I set about my regular routine of making sure that the drinks were flowing and that the girls were available ... if that's what he wanted. I kind of figured that maybe if he had bought his wife along then maybe he wasn't going to be interested in having other female company and attention. That was something else that I got wrong for it soon became apparent that Renate, the sweet German country girl I had known, had changed beyond recognition. It was clear that her association and marriage to her 'Jeffie' had transformed her, she now seemed to be acting like some kind of hard-nosed party girl. I don't know any other way to describe her, a slut, maybe?!

Jeff soon made it clear that he didn't need me hovering around, he said he knew the set-up and that he would call for me if there was anything that he needed. Renate, or Reina as she was referred to by her husband, looked toward me but I don't think she was actually seeing anything. Her eyes were glazed and she gave every impression that while she might be present in body that her mind was definitely elsewhere ... like on another planet. No doubt about it, she was stoned.

I kept a discrete watch on the booth from the sidelines, checking to see Lexie and Harmony were already going about their work. They were both were in fine form and Lexie was already seated close to Jeff paying him close attention while Harmony had slid into the opposite side of the booth to sit alongside Reina. It made for a fascinating sight and knowing from my times spent with the big black guy in the Sauna and the locker rooms back in Germany I positioned myself so that I might see the expression on little Lexie's face when she uncovered what he was packing in his pants. I didn't have to wait long but I was disappointed for Lexie, being the complete pro, showed nothing but joy on her face when she finally succeeded in uncovering that black monster cock. Jeff chuckled at something she said (I couldn't hear what) but I heard loud and clear when he said back to her, "Yeah, you can be the first... I wanna be sucked by all of you tonight." Lexie laughed at his joke but I knew as she lowered her head to his lap that he wasn't joking.

He leaned back against the seat, picked up his drink and smiling he looked over toward his wife who was smirking back at him. "Ya having a good time Leibling?" she slurred.

"You bet," was the response from this arrogant bastard, "... What about you? I told you this place was gonna be a knockout." He seemed to be oblivious to Lexie who was striving to get her mouth around his fat knob. "Wadda 'bout you, you don't seem to be doing much."

"Oh Leibling, you know I like to watch you making new friends and enjoying yourself ..." She turned and leaned toward Harmony and gave her a kiss, " ... And, doncha worry about me, I've gotta new friend of my own to help me have a good time," she giggled.

I wasn't too sure with the subdued lighting but it seemed to me that as they kissed Harmony already had her hand under the short skirt of my German ex-girlfriend.

Jeff looked up and saw that I was in sight. He called me over and with Lexie's head bobbing up and down in his lap he pointed to his empty glass and said, "We need refills." Reina didn't say anything, she was too occupied with having her tits sucked and to be exploring Harmony's pussy.

I returned to the table with the drinks just as Lexie bought him to his first orgasm. He gave a kind of grunt as she lifted her head and I tried not to be impressed at the sight of the blast of cum that hit her face. On the other side of the table Harmony in her own way seemed to be achieving the same affect with Reina and as I set down her cocktail she gave a squeal that experience told me was her having a climax of her own. It was a scene of utter depravity but, hey, that's what the club was all about and being the complete professional I acted as if this was nothing new and just asked, "Will that be all ... is there anything else I can get you?"

Jeff didn't show any gratitude at receiving the drinks order but said, "Yeah, we could use some Snow."

It was a request I didn't like hearing. Since a previous little bit of trouble with the law we now had a strict no-drugs policy at the club, leastways, we didn't keep any drugs on site. I shared this news with him and he was not impressed.

"No worries. Go and find my driver and tell him to give you what I need."

There seemed to be little point in telling him that was also against the law so I did as he ordered.

By the time I returned with the packets of Blow the positions of the girls had changed and it was now Lexie who was caressing Reina with Harmony having taken her place alongside Jeff who made no attempt to hide his fat black cock that lay across his lap. The man was shameless.

He nodded toward his wife but said to me, "You know what to do, make her a line ... and then go get me another girl."

I did as he said and poured and prepared a line of powder on the glass top table for Reina. She disengaged herself from Lexie and expertly rolled a dollar bill and snorted till the line had all disappeared. She then shocked me by lifting her head and looking at me with that sexy look on her face that I knew so well, said, "Zank you Kevin!"

Shit, so she did recognise me but clearly was so spaced out that she wasn't thinking right and hadn't thought to mention it up until that point!

"Yeah, 'Thank you Kevin'", mimicked Jeff, "now go find me another fucking girl!"

Damn, so they both knew who I was and from that point on there was no need in me denying it. I left them, hearing them laughing behind my back at their joke, and went back to the bar to tell Kayla she needed to take a round of drinks to the VIP lounge. She knew what was expected of her.

The rest of the night played out in a kind of blur. Soon after Kayla had 'served' them both, Jeff told me he knew about the suites with the beds, etc. and he demanded that they take their places and the girls there for the rest of the evening. Being the dutiful servant, I gathered up the drinks from the table and led him and Reina to the larger of the two rooms. He made it quite plain that I wasn't to get in the way of his (their) enjoyment but that I needed to be close at hand to 'take orders'. That was fine by me as the less I had to do with him, the better, knowing from experience how unpredictable and nasty he could be. So it was that I spent my time between ensuring that they were not disturbed but at the same time keeping an ear cocked waiting for his orders to go get drinks or, frequently, to go out to his car to get 'another dose' or some cash from his driver. I figured he was making me do it, the running around after him, as some kind of humiliation. It was certainly a reminder of how he used to jerk me around when we were together in Germany.

Each time I came back to the room to deliver whatever it was that I had been sent to get I would find that he would have that fat cock of his stuffed in one of the girls or that they would be playing with him to make sure that he didn't lose interest. He never seemed to be anything but stiff and I had to grudgingly admit to myself that his cock (it must have been 10", at least) was to be envied and I was wishing that I could try it out for myself. It was not to be (not that night, anyway) and so the time went by until even they admitted that they had had enough and declared they were leaving.

I was relieved to think that the night had passed by without any major upset and that we had delivered on our promise of giving our customers a good time. My relief was short-lived for Reina decided that, as high as was from all the white stuff that she had been snorting all night, that she wanted a final treat; she said 'for old time's sake' she wanted to see my 'Kliener Schwanse'. Jeff didn't know what the hell she was talking about. I did, she wanted to see my 'little cock' as she used to call it.

I was horrified. Not because I was concerned so much about showing off my cock but rather that it would reveal that I was wearing the frilly lace panties that Mistress Desiree had insisted I wear that night. I never understood at the time why she had made me do that (although I had to admit that the feel of the silk on my cock was most pleasurable) but it then became apparent when to the sound of Reina's laughter I heard him say, "... didn't I tell you he would do anything you told him to!"

It was then that I learned that the ownership of the club was about to change hands and that Jeff and the Mob were about to become my new bosses. This whole evening had been about checking out what the club had to offer and on Mistress Desiree's recommendation I was considered as being one of the assets. The ladies panties reveal was just one of the tests that I had unknowingly been subjected to.

Still laughing they exited the club, and I was left contemplating what my future held now that I had been 'reunited' with the mean black bastard who had made my life a misery in the past.

I decided that I would not do anything too dramatic as quitting the job that I loved so much. Instead I elected to do what my Daddy had told me to do 'take any setback as an opportunity; suck it up and do your duty'.