This is a print version of story Billiards and the Hooker by cptfritz from

Billiards and the Hooker

-------- Billiards and the Hooker --------

I was sitting at the bar in a rock and roll club not far from the traffic circle just outside Fort Benning. I'd been there for a little while, sipping a beer. The band wasn't too bad, but the crowd was small, not much going on.

A skinny little guy, younger than me, long hair, worn clothes, your generic weasel type, had come in and sat down at the bar a couple chairs down. When the bartender came to serve him, he ordered a draft beer and dragged out some change from his pocket and was counting nickels and dimes. I shrugged, what the hell, and felt a tug of karma or something. I waved to the waiting bartender, "I got it", and dropped a buck on the bar.

The little weasel smiled nervously and nodded in appreciation. We sat there and listened to the band for a few minutes. Then he got up and came to stand a little closer, beer in hand.

"Hey, thanks for the beer. Listen, you wanna make some money?" I looked at him dubiously, and he looked more nervous: I was a lot bigger than him, that was for sure. But he explained, if I had ten bucks I didn't mind gambling, he'd take me to this pool hall over in nearby Phenix City where he could double it. He was a really good pool player, he reassured me. He just needed the ten spot to get started, since he was a little short today.

Bored, I agreed. What the hell, nothing going on at this club, and it had been a long time since I'd been to Phenix City, "the town so wicked even the US Army's Tank Corps couldn't tame it!" Well, I'd been there before (carefully), wasn't impressed with the place, and never found any rewards there worth the risk. However, like I said, I was bored, and the little weasel was kind of entertaining in his own way. Kind of like Gaston's fat little toady sidekick in the Disney movie "Beauty and the b**st." Except not so fat. And a Suth'n Georgian accent.

Driving and following his directions, I recognized the pool hall when we got to it, in a particularly poor part of Phenix City. It didn't look like a pleasant place, but I'd seen worse, and I was bored.

The few rough looking guys in the place gave me the once-over. I was a little too fit, my hair a little too short, my hands a little too hard to fit the potential victim category. I was looking around a little too sharply, a little too aware of everything, my eyes a little too sharp to fit the potential sucker category. I'm wearing a work shirt, worn jeans and well-maintained Vibram-soled motorcycle boots, no cop shoes. They look at each other, shrug, and ignore me.

The bartender asked what I wanted. "Beer. In a bottle." I watched closely as he pulled one randomly from the cooler and held it up. Coors, that would do. I nodded and watched again as he opened and handed it to me. He reached for a glass, but I shook my head, taking a sip from the bottle. Nope, safer this way. One never knew in these places. I jerked my thumb at my new friend, the weasel, as well, who grinned in appreciation. He hadn't even finished the one at the other club, not much of a drinker I figured, but it didn't hurt to be polite.

I gave the weasel his ten bucks, being cautious in showing my wallet around (not that I had that much money, you understand, just habit) and he looked for someone to play. It didn't take him long, he screwed around for a few shots, then quit fooling and ran the table, and returned grinning with my original ten spot and another, tucking it into my shirt pocket. Back to the table, the same sucker was still wanting to win his money back. A few more minutes, and my new friend, true to his word, was back with half his new winnings. I was surprised: this little weasel seemed to be an honorable weasel. He seemed to like me being there too, kind of like his backup, although I wasn't so sure I'd do any such thing if he got in that kind of trouble. Hell, I hardly knew the guy, although there is a certain kind of loyalty even in circumstances like this. But it was interesting to see the weasel come out of his nervous jittery shell, smoothing out, more confident, playing some damned good pool too!

After a few more games, he ran out of suckers for the moment. Returning to me at the bar, he finished his beer, shook his head at the bartender's offer of another, and then leaned over as the bartender told him something in a low voice. They both looked over at a booth at the front of the place, where I was surprised to see a very attractive woman sitting! She was totally out of place here: pretty, nice makeup, good hairdo, neat expensive clothing, skirt and jacket over a silk blouse. I could see nice long legs and some expensive looking high-heels under the table, and wondered what the hell she was doing here.

My weasel friend came over and quietly explained what the bartender had told him. She'd come in earlier, just sat there drinking a soda, was polite but firmly rejected any advances by any of the men in the bar. She was just watching, not saying a word. But a little while after the weasel and I had come in, she'd signalled the bartender over and made a curious request.

She was uncomfortable about trying to get a cab in that neighborhood, and had asked the bartender if he could call her one and then take her outside when it arrived. He was dubious about this, didn't want the responsibility (the cabbies in Phenix City aren't real trustworthy either, I knew from legend), and couldn't leave his bar anyway. So he wanted to know if I'd take care of the lady for him, since I looked like a clean-cut GI type of guy.

I looked at the weasel. "Is this on the up and up? You know this guy? Or am I being set up?"

The weasel grinned. "Naw, I know Joe. He used to date my s****r. Actually, he still does, every now and then. He's okay. Well, at least probably, in this." He looked over at the woman. "I don't know her though, never seen her around either."

I shrugged. I was bored, and never cared much for pool anyway. "Well, let me see what I can do." A thought struck me. "Hey, if I decide to drive her wherever, are you okay getting home?"

The weasel patted his own shirt pocket. "Oh yeah, I'm good!" He glanced over at the pool table, where a new player was standing, looking around for a match. "And I think I'm gonna get better! It's just starting here; the games go all night." He shrugged, "What the hell, even if it goes bad, Joe'll give me a ride to my s****r's anyway." The weasel laughed, "Hell, he might even have a chance with her if she hasn't filled her bed for the night!"

Nodding, I shook his hand (to his surprise: apparently people didn't shake hands much in his circles), wished him luck, and strolled over to the lady's booth.

Sliding into the booth across from her, I ignored her frown and glance toward the bartender. Not giving her a moment to start a fuss, I introduced myself, rank and name, that I was stationed at Fort Benning, trying to establish my bonafides. "I understand you're looking for a cab." She glanced again at the bartender, and then met my eyes cooly, saying nothing. "Well, instead of a cab," I explained, "I'm leaving now anyway, got a car outside. So if I can offer you a ride home, I have the time."

She looked at me cooly, but obviously dubious. I might look safe enough, clean cut and all that, but I was pleased in a way to see her caution. I gave her my best boyish grin, "No, really. Just a ride home. It's getting late for me."

She surprised me: "You're a GI?" I nodded. "Show me your dog tags!"

I burst out loud laughing at the unexpected demand, and then tried to look apologetic. "Sorry, ma'am, but I just didn't expect THAT! I'd be glad to show you my dog tags. Except we usually only wear our dog tags when we're in uniform, in the field, for jumps, that sort of thing. It's a soldier thing, a field thing, not when we're downtown drinking beer!" I took out my wallet, pulled out my ID card (well, not actually my real one, the special backup one they issue us when there's problems and we don't want our real ID known. We're supposed to always turn them back in, but it was an Old Hand trick to keep one.) and placed it on the table. She picked it up and looked at it carefully, turning it into the light so she could read the details. "Fritz .. so that is your name." She looked up at me, her face a little more relaxed, a small smile on her face. "It doesn't say what Army unit you're in."

"That's right. They never do. Units change, ID cards never do." True enough.

She nodded and glanced at the watching bartender, who smiled and nodded reassuringly. "Well ..." she said as she handed my ID back to me. "Show me your car."

As we slid out of the booth, I checked my rear and saw the weasel busy at the pool table making another run, but he took the time to glance over, flash a grin and give me a thumbs-up. The woman and I walked outside, I carefully looked around from the shelter of the entrance, and then cautiously walked her to my car where it was parked just a few meters away by the curb under the nearest working street light. Everything looked good, no broken windows or missing wheels, and she seemed surprised to see my little Mercedes roadster with its California plates under the streetlamp, not quite the thing you'd normally see in Phenix City!

I unlocked the door and helped her in, enjoying a nice view down her full cleavage as she seated herself in the low roadster and brought her long shapely legs inside. Around to the driver's side, I entered, start up, and pull away, noticing that she flinched and nervously pulled her legs away as my hand reached towards her legs to work the manual gearbox. Well, she'd just have to get used to that, I thought. "Where to .. I'm sorry, but I don't know your name!"

She paused, looking at me with a sideways glance, her small purse clutched in her lap. I noticed one hand is partially hidden inside the purse and tense a little. Oh oh, I thought, what is this? We weren't going to have a problem here, were we? But she relaxed a little at my friendly and polite tone. "Melissa," she replied. "And you're .. Fritz, right?" I nodded, saying "Pleased to meet you" in a formal tone.

"You're just driving me to the hotel, right? We're not going to have any problems, are we?" she suddenly said, her voice hardened. Huh, my thoughts entirely! I glanced over to see her purse's opening was now toward me, with a long switchblade knife visible inside right by her fingers.

I grinned at her, unimpressed, but wanting to make the right response, the right impression on her.

"Melissa, you won't be needing that. I don't have anything else to do. I like meeting and riding with pretty girls. Kitten here ..." I patted the dash of my little roadster. "... likes giving pretty girls rides too. And I'm giving you a ride home. Or wherever you're going. That's it." I glanced at her and smiled, ignoring the threat in her purse. "My mom always told me it's lots better to be friendly with a pretty girl than to scare her. But to be perfectly honest with you, if I'd wanted to do anything with you .. it would already be done, and that little pig sticker of yours wouldn't have done you a bit of good."

Out of the corne rof my eye, I saw her tense up, her eyes hard on me. I continued, still casually driving through the empty streets of the city. "You ever hear of Special f***es?"

She thought for a second. "You mean .. like Green Berets? Like in the movies?"

I nodded, "Yeah .. but not exactly like in the movies." I grinned and gestured toward her purse. "We aren't exactly trained for this particular situation .. but it wouldn't be a problem, really. But it doesn't matter, because nothing like that is going to happen, because you don't need that little pretty. Besides," I teased, keeping my tone light. "My SF buddies wouldn't approve of me scaring a pretty girl either!

"Now, where did you say you were going?"

She stared at me, and then relaxed, giving me a hint of a friendly smile as she pulled her hand out of her purse and closed it. Seeing her relax a little and settle herself in her seat, I thought good, that crisis is over.

"I'm at the Sheraton .. downtown Columbus. Do you know where that is?"

I was surprised: that was a high-class hotel, way different from Phenix City, that was for sure! I was on the main highway to Columbus, and nodded. "Yes, I think so. We should be able to find it." I thought I remembered seeing it during some plain-clothes operations in Columbus.

Making small talk on the drive downtown, I asked Melissa if she was from around here. Her accent was certainly not Southern, fairly neutral, maybe a hint of the Northeast. "No, I'm just in town for business," she replied. More small talk, but she wasn't saying much.

I was pleased to spot a big sign for the Sheraton as we approached the downtown district and smoothly pulled into the big fancy covered hotel entrance. Stepping out, leaving the Mercedes idling in neutral, I walked around, opened the door help her out. Taking my hand in a graceful move, she got out, with another flash of those slim long legs. Releasing her hand as she stood and settled her clothing, I stepped back and made a little bow. "I was very pleased to meet you, Melissa," and turned to walk her to the waiting hotel doors, the car parking attendant looking at me expectantly. I suppose he was curious to see if he could drive that little old Mercedes roadster, perhaps was even looking forward to it!

Melissa looked toward the door, paused, and then turned to face me. With a little smile on her face she surprised me by softly asking if I'd like to come up. It wasn't that late really, not even 11, so I accepted. "If you'll give me a minute to park the car please?" I glanced at the young attendant and shook my head, trying not to laugh at his obvious disappointment.

"Of course," she replied, and stood on the sidewalk by the doors, cooly ignoring the parking attendant's staring eyes. As I drove the Mercedes to a nearby parking spot just beyond the entrance, my mind was busy. I was curious as to what this unusual and very attractive woman had in mind, since she hadn't been all that friendly so far. Polite at best, when she wasn't threatening my life with a switchblade.

She picked up her room key at the desk, the well-dressed concierge completely ignoring the big guy in the blue jeans and motorcycle boots, and we rode the elevator up in silence. She unlocked the door and I opened it, holding it for her to enter. Some lights were already illuminating the place, a large comfortable suite. Not cheap either, I thought to myself.

Taking off her jacket, she revealed a full figure beneath a nice white silk blouse. No bra: her breasts moved wonderfully as she walked, her nipples just visible beneath the smooth fabric. Walking to the little kitchenette just to the side, Melissa offered me a drink from the suite bar and I accepted. "A weak Scotch and water please." Mixing it expertly, she handed the very nice crystal tumbler to me, and joined me with a small glass of wine from an already open bottle in the little refrigerator.

Sitting in the softly lit sitting area just inside the suite, we talked a little more. She opened up a little as she relaxed and grew more comfortable with me.

"You aren't exactly a small town boy, are you?" she asked. "You aren't from around here either, I'd say. That little Mercedes and its plates sure don't fit."

I smiled, "No, not from here. I've been around. We travel a lot, meet all sorts of different people in different places."

She glanced at my clothes, my heavy boots. "I wondered. You didn't seem out of place in that place where you met me. But you don't talk, you don't act like the people around here."

I nodded. "We tend to dress to fit, you know? To blend in? Or depending on what we have to do: rough clothes for possible rough work." I smiled at her, "If I were to meet you in what I suspect are YOUR normal surroundings, I'd want to look quite different than this."

She nodded and paused, apparently thinking. "So I'm not going to freak you out if I'm honest with you?"

I shrug and smile reassuringly. "Probably not. I was shocked once. I think. Hard to remember, it was so long ago." I said that with a perfectly straight face, but let my humor show in my eyes and the slightest grin, and got a surprisingly cute giggle from her.

She sighed in relief and took a sip of wine. "That's good. I am SO damned tired of bullshit and acting and putting on and giving the right impression. I cannot tell you how long this week has been!"

She grinned girlishly. "But I've made a ton of money though, and that's what it's all about. But I'm flying back to New York, getting back to Manhattan. I've had enough of Georgia to last me a while."

"What do you do?" I asked curiously. She eyed me speculatively and then responded. "I'm a .. well, there are all sorts of names. Entertainment specialist? e****t? Companion? Call girl? Hooker? Whore?"

She was watching me closely, but I was careful to keep a relaxed face and not bat an eye. I'd suspected something like that, with the clothing, the appearance, the switchblade, the suite. But I also knew she was trying to push my buttons.

"My .. agent, the lady who runs the company I work with, had a contract for me with this businessman down here at a big convention. So I was with him for two days. And then, when he was ready to leave, he had a friend who .. liked me. So I called my agent and they negotiated a new contract, just for a single evening .. and night." She glanced at me, looking again for a reaction, but I wasn't giving her any. She might as well have been talking about her PTA meetings.

"And then he handed me off to another local businessman for two more days, and now he was paying a real premium because I was getting tired of this place and all these men one after the other, you know?" She took another sip of wine, becoming more relaxed and open as the story came out, her finally having someone to talk to. "I usually don't want that much business, not like that, with that many men, one after another .. it's tiresome, just not my style. I don't like ..." she glanced at me, "... being handed from one to the next, you know? Like some toy for them to play with? Even though I'm a damned expensive toy, I have to tell you." She smiled and I heard a hint of pride in her voice, overriding the irritation.

"But it seems that a girl like me ..." She gestured at herself. "They're not real common around these parts, and these businessmen really get a kick out of it, having a real genyooine New Yawk e****t to show around, to get to .. well, you know." The few words of fake Suth'n (or was it Texan?) accent amused me, but I got her point. She shook her head, sighing. "Nice enough guys really, almost always older, plenty of money to spend, they treat me well enough, usually. But still, they get tiresome. And boring. And .. frustrating."

She looked at me, her eyes glowing and warm beneath her long eyelashes. "So it's really nice to just get with a younger guy, not a .. client, someone I'm supposed to be nice to."

She paused and continued, "You're okay with this? I don't expect your mom told you about anybody like me, huh?"

I grinned at her, "Melissa, like I said, I like meeting pretty girls. I don't particularly care what they do for a living. And you're a very pretty one, smart, interesting, nice to talk to, very nice to look at." I let my eyes glance down at her lips, her cleavage, and then back to meet hers. "And sexy. Very sexy. That's always good .. or at least that's what my sergeant major always told me. Not my mom." I grinned at her teasingly. I knew how to flirt too, in my own way.

She smiled and toasted me with her wine glass. "I'm glad, Fritz, very glad." She glanced at me coyly as she stood up. "I know this sounds like some old movie .. but would you mind if I changed into .. something more comfortable? That bar was .. dirty; a quick shower would be wonderful, if you didn't mind waiting a bit?"

I could see a teasing look on her face and in her voice, and lifted my Scotch to her. She knew damned well I'd wait until hell froze over, after a look like that. This was flirting at the truly stratospheric level! But I was cool, oh yeah, I was cool.

"By all means, Melissa my dear. I'll just sit here and think lecherous thoughts about poor innocent young New York girls, so far from home, so helpless, so hungry for .. company. And scheme how to take advantage of the helpless innocent c***d." I gave her a grin and twisted my mustache in true villain style.

She gave me a cool look from beneath those long eyelashes, but I could still see a hit of the playful smile on her face as she turned and walked back to what must be the bedroom of the suite. It looked like that might be the right note: enough work, this woman was ready to play!

There was a pause, I heard the shower running, another pause. She returned in a surprisingly short time, her face washed clean, her hair brushed, barefoot, and her completely naked body visible through a sheer long dressing robe! It was the merest whisp of fabric, and the quick thought, "My god, the wonders of modern science!", shot through my mind as I stared at her, trying not to gawk like a schoolboy.

As if nothing had changed, she smiled teasingly as she picked up her wine glass from the table in front of me and gracefully walked toward a comfortable looking couch in the darkened living room area. "Why don't you join me? And bring the wine bottle please? Would you like me to make you another Scotch?"

"No, I'm fine," I managed to reply, got the wine bottle from the kitchenette, and joined her on the couch. We sat quietly, with her casually snuggled against me as if we were the oldest of friends or the closest of lovers, looking out at the lights of the city through the broad suite windows.

She set down her wine glass on the coffee table by my Scotch glass and turned to me, moving closer, lifting her arms around my neck as she pressed her breasts against me. "I'd like a kiss now, please? Would you kiss me?"

Gladly! A long soft warm kiss, growing hotter as she pressed her soft lips harder against mine, and then a touch of tongue, and more. I was surprised to see how fast her excitement built from such a simple thing, and wondered if she was going professional on me. Could she be getting this excited so quickly? But her breath, her heartbeat, her hardened nipples pressing against me, all seemed authentic!

Finally she pulled her mouth away from mine and pressed her face against my neck and shoulder, kissing my skin. She sighed softly, "Oh Fritz, that was so nice!"

I slid my hand around from her back where I'd been hugging her and casually slipped it between us. Taking one of her full naked breasts in my hand, I squeezed it gently. "You are a beautiful woman, Melissa. And I'm very glad you're enjoying yourself with me."

She lifted her face and smiled at me. "You are exactly what I need!" She looked away for a second, and then brought her eyes back to me as she moved her own hand up to squeeze my fingers around her breast even harder. I could see excitement and hunger in her eyes.

"Would you .. would you stay with me tonight? Please? We can do anything .. anything you want! It would be so wonderful to .. just be me, do you understand? No acts. No contracts. No games ..." She looked at me coyly, a hint of heat and more than a little excitement in those wonderful eyes of hers. "Well, maybe some games, but fun games? I even have toys!" she teased.

I smiled back at her and kissed her forehead. Then I leaned down and kissed her mouth softly, once and then again. "I'd love to," I replied. "And it works both ways, you know." She looked at me questioningly. "Anything you want, anything you need, anything at all .. you only have to ask me, show me, and I'll do it. My favorite part of making love with a woman ..." I was pleased to see her face soften, her smile at those words, "making love." "The best part is seeing her pleasure, her excitement, her satisfaction." I kissed her again as I squeezed her breast gently.

"I plan to enjoy everything you can offer, everything you can give me. Oh yes, I'll be terribly greedy, you can be sure of that, you poor poor little thing!" I saw her smile at my teasing. "But I want you to get everything you want as well. You can be as greedy as you want too! With anything you want!"

She nodded and smiled, and were those tears in her eyes? Then she moaned softly and pressed her body hard against me as she hugged me and kissed my mouth. Smiling, she pulled herself away and jumped to her feet, releasing the silk waist tie to let her robe fall open around her, completely revealing her naked body. God, she was beautiful! Her figure was exquisite, high full breasts with hard nipples and small aurolea, a slim waist with a flat belly, full hips, a perfectly shaved cunt with beautifully shaped labia, long slim thighs and legs .. The smell of soap wafted from her, with the slightest hint of perfume. I sat and stared, hardly believing my luck!

"Come on," she teased, reaching out for my hand. "I like you looking at me, but I want more than looks! I want you to take me to bed and fuck me! Hard, fast, I want you so bad, don't make me wait!" She smiled, her lips swollen with excitement, her eyes full of promise. "No, I will wait, but for only a minute! Can you take a shower in a minute?" she asked. "Of course you can, you're a soldier, you must be good at being quick." She giggled, but the hunger was still there. "Games we can do later, the things you like, the things I like .. but right now I just want you to fuck me!"

With a girlish giggle, she turned toward the bedroom, the sheer robe twirling away from her body, pulling me excitedly behind her.


Melissa giggled and squeezed her sphincter hard as I wiggled my finger inside her anus. "That feels good," she sighed. "It really gives a sort of different addition when I'm getting excited, feeling your cock inside me .. and when I orgasm too!"

We'd made love twice already, hard, physical, almost violent love as she almost demanded, and she'd come hard too, four or more orgasms to my two climaxes. And then a slow leisurely pleasuring of her with my tongue and mouth and hands, refusing to let her cool down, bringing her to another plateau of excitement and then holding her, holding her right at the peak until she was almost crying with need.

But this was after, and we were just playing now, toying with each other's bodies, tittilating, pleasuring, keeping the excitement going until we were ready for the full passion we both enjoyed so much.

She smiled at me, teasing. "If you like the feel inside my ass, that's fine, you can keep using your finger. But if you want to make sure I'm getting that all the time .. I have a butt plug you can use!"

Turning over, careful not to pull my finger from inside her, she reached over to the bedside table. Reaching into the drawer, she pulled out a familiar sight: a tapered vinyl anal plug with a slim ring on the back end. It was a glossy black instead of the obscene pink color I was familiar with, and it was a lot thicker in diameter than I'd expected.

"Would you like some anal sex?" I asked her, slowly stroking my finger in and out of her squeezing anus.

She turned back, the plug in her hand, and said "Well, to be honest, Fritz .. I'd rather not? I mean, if that's okay with you?" She smiled apologetically. "I mean, sure, I can take your cock in my ass; you can butt fuck me without any problem." I was amused to see another really coarse sexual term in her speech. Usually she was very discreet and mannerly, but occasionally the whore in her came out. Which was probably good in her business: many men liked to hear coarse whore talk from their women.

I shrugged, "No matter to me. Anal sex is sometimes a nice change, there's something really intimate about it, you know? And if I need extra stimulation to come, if I'm tired or worn out by some greedy demanding nympho who won't give me any rest ..." I looked at her cooly, prompting another giggle. "... there's nothing like a nice snug rectum and a good tight sphincter to get me off! But it isn't necessary or anything, I'm fine without it."

I looked at her curiously. We were being very honest with one another and I was curious. "Why don't you like it?"

She frowned, "Well, it seems like every client I get wants, eventually, to fuck me in the ass!" I could see the irritation in her eyes and hear it in her voice. "Not because they're wanting to abuse me, usually, although for some of them, that's part of how they have their fun, you know." I nod understandingly. "I think mostly because there's something, well, dirty about it, you know? Something forbidden? And most likely, something their wives at home won't ever let them do!"

She laughed scornfully, "Not even those fancy trophy wives some of them have! Oh, those gals will do anything they have to, to get that rich husband. But once they have that ring, that wedding, even with the pre-nups .. a whole lot of things stop! Like letting the poor slob fuck their tight pretty asses!" She shook her head, "Not all of them, of course. I've met some husbands, talked to some of the wives too, and some of the trophy wives stick to their bargain, either because they're honest and fair .. or because they want to make sure they never get kicked off that gravy train!"

She shrugged and kissed me. "Now, are you gonna stick that little plug up my ass so you can have both hands free to feel me up proper? Because I got a hankerin' to feel that cock of yours inside me again, cowboy, and we might as well get all the holes filled, right?" I smiled, she was doing her really bad Texan accent again. A cowgirl she was not, but I'd learned it was a cue she wanted to ride me .. and I had no arguments with that! I was managing to keep my erections well enough, no little thanks to her wonderfully exciting body and her expert mouth and hands .. but my back was getting just a bit tired, so I didn't mind a bit if she wanted to do some of the work.

I gave a silent thanks to my outfit and their insistance on us keeping really fit. This woman really enjoyed energetic sex, the faster and harder the fuck, the better! I guess she was making up for a lot of fat lazy businessmen, but no matter, just so she was enjoying it. But it was making a lot of demands on my back, arms, even my legs; I didn't think I'd spent this much time in the pushup position since Jump School! When I wasn't standing by the edge of the bed or kneeling behind her, of course, with her on her hands and knees taking me from behind (which she also dearly loved because I could fuck her so hard!) .. or with her feet held over her head and spread, opening her cunt completely, with her perfectly positioned for the deepest penetration possible.

Taking the bulging anal plug from her, I smiled as she eagerly turned over to present her beautiful bottom to me. Reaching back behind her, she grabbed each buttock in one hand and spread them wide, opening her crack to me. I saw her tight puckered anus peeking out at me, just above the beautiful smooth bulges of the base of her labia, and she wiggled excitedly. "Come on! The lotion is right there on the bed table! What's the matter, you can't handle it?" She giggled again, excited and eager. I quickly lubricated the black plug with lotion, patted her bottom fondly, and pushed the rounded tip of the plug against her anus. She gasped a little and then a soft "Aaaaahh!" as I smoothly pushed it into her body, giving her enough time to adjust as the much thicker bulge pushed inside her. I watched as her anus stretched and then smoothly squeezed shut around the smaller base. "Oooooo," she almost purred as she felt the stimulation of the plug in her bottom.

Then, turning over, she smiled at me as she spread her arms and pulled me to her body. "Now, lover .. do you want to fuck me? Or should I fuck you?" She gave me a challenging look as she rubbed her cunt against my hardening cock.

"Lazy woman, good for nothing New York lazy bones! Of course you are going to fuck me!" I replied teasingly. "And I'm going to lay here and do nothing except watch your breasts bounce up and down .. and look at your cunt as you slide up and down on my cock ..." I moved my body up and down, rubbing my cock shaft against her cunt, enjoying her gasp of pleasure as my cock head rubbed her hard little clitoris.

"And then I will laugh when you come, because I'll roll you over and fuck you again and make you come even more!"

"Ooooohhh!" she moaned as she pushed against me. "Get off, get off! I need you inside me!" Moaning with excitement, she slid out from beneath me as I rolled away, pushed me on my back and straddled my hips. I smiled with pleasure as she guided my cock up inside her beautiful cunt with both hands, closing her eyes with sheer pleasure as I entered her. Then she lowered her body slowly, savoring the full sensation as I penetrated her yet again. "Ohhhhh god, yes .. oh that's it, that's it! A wonderful cock!" A long sigh as her vulva pressed down against my pelvic bone, my cock completely imbedded in her. And then soft moans of pleasure as she began rocking, beginning the wonderfully exciting motion that would bring her back again to yet another earth shattering orgasm!


Resting between bouts, Melissa told me of some of her experiences, knowing I was curious about her profession. I'd had little to do with e****ts and prostitutes at her level; I certainly couldn't afford them on my salary, I'd mentioned to her, which made her laugh.

"So I can take tonight off on my income taxes?" she joked. "Write it off as charity for a poor serviceman, who's depraved on account of he's deprived?" There it was again, another flash of knowledge I never expected her to have. Who would expect a quote from "West Side Story" from a Manhattan e****t?

"Maybe I can send you a bill?" I retorted. "Special services for a poor neglected woman who couldn't find a man who could appreciate her? Making love with her all night long despite her being homely and maybe a little fat?" That was another shared joke we'd invented: that she wasn't the really attractive and terrifically sexy woman she was.

She described how on a few occasions, clients would contract for two girls, or already have one with them when she arrived. Many men loved watching two women having lesbian sex, so it had to be part of her repertoire. She wasn't gay, she assured me (as if I had any doubt of that), and usually the other woman wasn't either .. but they had to make it convincing. So she became quite expert at arousing and exciting and satisfying another woman .. and accepting the other woman's touches, fingers, mouth, tongue on her, letting herself become excited and even actually having orgasms!

"It wasn't bad at all really," she assured me. "Making love with a woman can be very pleasant. You understand what each other likes, you can take your time, just so you put on a good show for your client, you know?" She smiled teasingly at me, "Like I do all the time you, hah, I had you fooled, didn't I?" I laughed at her; she could even joke about that, simply because she knew it was so obviously not true. With clients, sometimes, often even, maybe. But not with me.

"But if we would have to pretend, usually we would go ahead and make sure we were giving and getting pleasure. Why fake an orgasm when you can have a real one?"

"Is there anything you can teach me about pleasuring a woman?" I asked her. "I really like pleasuring you, any woman, and I've tried to pay attention, to learn all I could, about what women like. Any tricks? Special lesbian secrets?" I teased her.

Melissa smiled and gently squeezed my cock as she kissed my mouth. "Honey, you do just fine! You take your time, you give me attention in all the right places. You know how good my clit is for getting me hot, for getting me off. That's what it's for, after all, and you know that! You know how to tease me and hold me right at the peak, getting me so hot I want to scream!" She kissed me again, her tongue darting out to lick me. "Oh no, honey, you do just great."

"Except ..." She paused, looking at me from the corner of her eyes. "Except?" I replied.

"Well, if you could only lick my clit and use your teeth on both my labia at the same time .. oh, and maybe stick your tongue down inside me? Oh, and rub my back? And squeeze my bottom? And massage my feet? All at the same time? That would be nice." She looked at me teasingly.

"Rii-ight!" I said, reaching down and taking my cock out of her hand. Rolling over, I lay on top of her and pushed it hard against her cunt, hearing her gasp as my cock head rubbed against her sensitive clit. I'd just brought her to a huge orgasm a few minutes earlier, using fingers and mouth, while sliding her butt plug in and out of her ass at the peak moments. I thought she'd never stop coming as her body convulsed again and again, her cries of passion so loud I was worried about the neighboring rooms complaining!

She'd taken a while to come down from that, trembling and quivering, jerking at the slightest touch, her entire body sensitized. And it looked like, from her reactions just now, that she was still excited, ready for more! Well, I was too! "Now you're gonna give me a good time, you sexy wench" I whispered and then smothered her weak protest with my mouth on hers. Moving my hips and body, I carefully moved and positioned my cock head, sight unseen, until it felt just right, centered on her swollen labia and the vagina beneath. A push, and it slipped between her labia and inside her. Then lifting my hips slightly, I pulled my body up and felt my cock tilt, angled perfectly to penetrate her. Then I dropped my body and pushed my entire cock into her with one smooth motion.

"Aaaaaaah!" she gasped, pulling her mouth away from mine. "Ohhhh oh god oh god oh god!" she moaned as I began stroking. Yes, I'd caught it right: she was still excited, still sensitive, and ready for me again.

Gathering my strength, I began a steady heavy pumping, holding her down now with my legs pulling her legs together, forcing her vagina even tighter on my cock as it stroked in and out of her body. I took her wrists and held them over her head to increase her feeling of helpnessness as I covered my mouth with hers again. I could hear her moans, but her tongue reached between our open mouths to wrestle with mine. I picked up the speed a little, my hips and belly slapping against hers as I fucked her even harder and faster. And then I detected the signs I'd grown to recognize, the cues that she was coming to an orgasm. The short gasps, almost panting little barks as she arched her pelvis even more, opening to me, welcoming me. I took my mouth away from hers and buried my tongue in her ear, and then long sucking kisses on the side of her neck, feeling her hips lifting and bucking back against me despite her helplessness, demanding my cock, eager for her orgasm.

And then it came: a long cry, almost agonizing, as her entire mind and body exploded in a huge orgasm. I could feel her vagina loosen, opening up deep inside, welcoming my cum. She jerked and bucked beneath me, and I pushed her legs even tighter together with mine, increasing the friction on my well-worn cock even more. I could feel my own climax coming now, the tingling, the tension .. and Melissa still twisted and moaned beneath me, every breath a long cry of passion. And then I came, shooting deep inside her body. It wasn't shooting out very hard, there wasn't very much, since this amazingly passionate and expert lover had drained me well during the long night of lovemaking. My climax was almost painful in its intensity as my body tried to fill her once again with my sperm, my prostate aching in its last efforts.

And then we both slowly relaxed, with Melissa's little cries of pleasure and contentment at every breath. "Ohhhhhhh .. ohhhhh .. ohhh!" she cried, and then slowly became quiet, lying still and limp beneath me. I lay there, savoring the feel of my cock so deep within her pulsing vagina, the sensation as it softened and shrank and slowly slipped its way up and out of her body. But I still lay on her, the softened remnants of my manhood still buried in her, feeling the slow pulsing squeeze of her vagina, the warmth and wet and softness within her.

"Oh Fritz!" she finally sighed as she buried her face in my neck. "Oh god, what you do to me!" She looked up at me, her face still flushed and lips swollen from her passion. "I love how you fuck me!"

I smiled at her and kissed her eyes, her nose, her lips. Tenderness now, after the raw passion of a few minutes ago; she loved that. "And I love fucking you," I said softly. The closest we came to even thinking that, after such a short time, we cared for each other. It was there, no question .. but I couldn't call it love, couldn't even think of it. And neither, apparently, could she. Just as well, I thought. This was just our own special thing, this one time, this one night.


I woke to her touch and returned her smile, stretching as she fondled me. She'd pulled the sheet down from our bodies and had been admiring my body. I rolled over to her, stroked her, excited her, and then we shared one last slow tender sex, almost gentle until the last moments as we each slowly reached our peak. After I came inside her, she smiled gently at me and then lowered her face to my groin and sucked me clean. Then, as I lay exhausted on the bed, she reached over, her full breasts brushing across my chest, picked up the bedside phone, and casually ordered a Continental breakfast from room service.

She then gave me a quick kiss and a happy smile, "Race you to the shower!" Well, she beat me there as I wearily climbed out of bed, wondering where this wonderful woman got all her energy. At least she was kind enough to get the water all nice and adjusted in time for me to join her. We soaped and played and teased, but I certainly didn't have the strength for another bout. Plus the morning sun was bright, a reminder that Melissa had a return flight at noon.

It was hard not to laugh as the elderly black waiter brought up our breakfast. Entering the room after I'd opened it to his knock, pushing the elegant room service cart before him, he almost stumbled over his own feet as he saw Melissa standing there in the bright morning sunlight filling the big room, smiling at him, a white towel wrapped around her drying hair, the long silk robe highlighting her full rich naked body, concealing nothing at all! He stood frozen, unable to pull his eyes off her body as I closed the door and then moved to stand beside her. I tried not to grin; I knew she was showing off, teasing me perhaps, and certainly giving the old waiter an unexpected pleasure and treat.

But I had to feel sorry for him too, for reasons I knew Melissa might not understand. An elderly black man of his generation, in the same room with a virtually naked white woman? Not wise, not wise at all. In fact, downright bl**dy dangerous! He glanced at me anxiously and I smiled reassuringly as I walked over to her. Don't worry, sir, I wanted to say, respectfully, politely. I was raised by a wonderful black woman, with a husband just like you. But that would have been just as bad.

Melissa stood with her arm around me, smiling at me, completely disregarding the staring waiter, but I could see the deviltry in her eyes. We must've made quite the pair: me, tall and slim, dressed in my civilian clothes from the night before, chambray shirt, jeans, broad heavy belt, motorcycle boots. And Melissa, a small young beautifully shaped woman in that sheer silk nightrobe that showed her nakedness so wonderfully. I glanced at him and, still smiling in a friendly fashion, gestured toward the waiting empty table. With a jerk he pulled his thoughts together.

"Ah .. yessah .. good morning sah .. Ah'll just get this set up right here, if that's all right with you sah?" His black southern accent was thick and strong, probably increased by his nervousness.

"Thank you," Melissa replied. "That would be wonderful!" Her polite response got her another startled look from the waiter, and he almost lost his train of thought again as his eyes unavoidably dropped to her virtually nude body.

He set the table and our breakfast, but I could see his distraction. He tried to keep his head down, turned away in politeness, but he just couldn't manage it despite his years of experience. His eyes kept returning to Melissa as she gracefully walked to the table and let me seat her, smiling her thanks at him and then me. Her breasts bounced gently as she sat down, and I heard a choking sound. I looked up, expecting to see the old waiter clutching his chest in a heart attack, but he'd collected himself and was carefully staring at the marmalade. Cooly, Melissa, the shameless trollop, took a sip of her coffee, her full breasts so beautiful in the morning sun, her nipples hard from the excitement of her teasing, knowing the waiter and I were both staring at her beauty, both of us wanting her.

I gave a little reminding cough, just a clearing of the throat to get the waiter's attention, because his eyes were back on those wonderful breasts again. Well, I couldn't blame him. Embarrassed, he pulled himself together again, a hint of apology in his eyes as they met mine. He pushed the cart to the door as I followed to open the door for him and give him a tip. When I reached back into my pocket for my wallet, he shook his head and smiled.

"No sah .. that woan' be necessary. Ah do believe Ah arready got tip enuff, if'n you doan' mind me sayin' so." He smiled, looked back at the beautiful Melissa sitting at the table, her nakedness visible from where we stood, and shook his head. "Lawdy," he said softly, almost to himself. "Ah, swear, Ah'd work for free if Ah could see somethin' lahk that every mornin'!"

He gave me a faint grin, shook his head, nodded politely, and pushed the cart on down the hall.

Returning to the table, I sat down and prepared my coffee. I glanced up to see her grinning at me, that deviltry still in her eyes, a teasing grin on her full lips. She'd known exactly what she was doing, and I wondered if she'd done it just to show off, to tease the old man .. or to compliment me? To look her very best, her very sexiest, her most desirable image .. just in my honor?

We shared small chat as we enjoyed the simple but delicious breakfast. A second cup of coffee, and I knew it was time for the hard part. Patting my lips with the linen napkin, I rose to my feet. "I have to go now. I know you have a plane to catch this morning, and you mustn't be late. Manhattan awaits!"

Melissa smiled back, but it was weak. I sensed she wasn't happy about the moment either. But we both knew what we had to do.

She walked with me to the door, her arm around me, hugging me close, her body pressing against mine at every step.

At the door I turned and, drawing her to me, gave her a soft kiss. She pressed her body full length against me, her arms around my back pulling me hard to her, her groin against my unexpectedly hardening cock, as she kissed me back. And then again, her mouth open and warm, her lips full and soft. We stood for a second, looking into each other's eyes. She'd not given me her full name, no address, no phone number, no promise of a return or another meeting. Obviously this was a one-time thing, some things didn't need to be said, other things couldn't be said, and we both left it at that.

I kissed her again gently, gave her full buttocks one last good squeeze, and then, to ease the pain I knew I was feeling, a little playful pinch (a hint of some of the games we'd played the night before) that got a surprised squeak and a giggle. Then I opened the door, gave her one last smile and a casual two-fingered salute to my eyebrow, brave soldier to the very end, and let myself out. I could see her naked body behind the sheer gown and her softly smiling face through the crack of the door as she watched me leave, and then it closed. Sayonara, Melissa, I thought. Vaya con Dios, and the very best of luck to you.

Passing through the lobby, I saw a new concierge staring at me, my dress obviously out of place in this rich hotel. I glared at him, suddenly ill-tempered, and mentally dared him to say a single fucking word so I could rip his heart out. He flushed, obviously psychic, and glanced away as I walked out of the lobby and through the smooth electric glass doors.

The little Mercedes looked out of place down in the Sheraton parking lot among all the big Ford Townhouses, Mercedes, Cadillacs, and the daytime parking attendant didn't give me a glance. When I got into it and sat behind the wheel for a second, not really thinking of anything at all, I could still smell a hint of Melissa's perfume.

And that was all that was left of her.

-- end --

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