Then, without warning, he reaches across the shift to wrap his arm around my waist. His lips crash into mine again, harder this time, a rough, hungry kiss. I drink him in, part my lips to let his tongue explore my mouth, even as his hands fold around my waist. His hands are so big they almost fit around my waist entirely, and I feel warm and safe, folded up in him.
He tilts his head and I lean with him, wrapping my arms around his shoulders, burying one hand in his hair and clenching my fist. He mirrors me, pulling just hard enough that I feel it against my scalp, a faint sting of pain coupled with the pleasure of his kiss.
Like everything else, he is dangerously good at kissing…
His hands slide up from my waist to wrap around my breasts and I let out a soft groan, melting against his muscular chest. That’s when he draws back, his lips still caressing my neck.
“Corbella.”
I freeze. He’s got that commanding sound to his voice again, the one he gets just before he gives me an order. My whole body tenses in anticipation, wondering what he has in store next, what he’ll ask me to do. It’s thrilling, surrendering control to him like this, letting him take charge of my body.
“Undo my belt.”
My breath catches in my throat. Finally. I’ve been aching for this, to touch him, feel him in my hands. I want to know every inch of this man. I reach between us and undo the latch of his belt, slowly, taunting us as I draw it out.
His eyes don’t leave mine the entire time. “Now take out my cock.”
I run my hands down to trace the seam of his jeans, feeling the hard press of him there. A little smirk appears on his lips. “Feel how hard I am for you, Corbella.”
My mouth goes dry and my thighs clench reflexively as a pulse of desire spikes through my pussy. I can already feel that my panties are wet and my clit actually starts to throb, feeling his solid length. I slide the zipper down, peel his jeans back, and push his boxers aside eagerly, no longer able to take it slow or tease him at all. I’m all animal lust now, hungry, and nothing is going to get in my way.
But as the fabric of his boxers slips down his waist, I have to pause for a moment to stare.
He is huge. Thick and long all at once, curved upright, full and flushed with lust. That throb in my clit tightens as I imagine him pushing this cock inside me, fucking me with it. I can practically feel how my walls would stretch to accommodate him, the belly-deep ache I’d get from being fucked with a cock this enormous.
“Suck my cock,” he says, those eyes still on me, watching, studying. He’s going to watch me the whole time, I realize. Usually the guys I’ve dated in the past just lie back on the bed when I go down on them, eyes shut. I’ve never been watched doing this before, and as I lean forward over him, shifting in the seat until my head is even with his lap, I’m surprised to realize how much hotter it is knowing he’s studying my every move.
I breathe in his scent, heady and masculine, before I bring the tip of my tongue to the base of his cock, tracing my way up the underside slowly. His sharp inhale, and the way his fist tightens in my hair, tells me he’s enjoying this as much as I am.
I let my tongue explore him slowly, working every side at once, first underneath, then curling my tongue around the left side of his cock, stroking up almost to the tip, and running back down the right side. He’s breathing harder now, his hips slowly shifting against the car seat, rising to meet my mouth.
But I’m not done exploring.
I run the flat of my tongue over the top of his cock, lifting my eyes to meet his while I do. His are darker than ever, his mouth a tight line, the muscles all along his neck tensed. I moan a little as I reach his tip and swirl my tongue around the head. He shudders in response, but those eyes don’t break their hold, and he somehow manages to retain his poker face. But I can see the effect I’m having on him. There are tells he can’t control–his breathing and tensing muscles
I want to make him lose control. I want to see him come for me. I want to taste his cum.
I lick his head again, just over the tip, and taste the bead of precum that gathered there. It’s a perfect appetizer, a sample of how he’ll taste when I finally make him come for me. I shut my eyes, parting my lips slightly, kissing along the side of him.
That’s when his fist tightens in my hair. “I’m going to fuck your mouth now, Corbella.”
Obediently, I open my mouth for him. He tugs my hair gently to guide me over the top of his cock, then lifts his hips to thrust up into me, slowly. My jaw aches as I widen my mouth to take him all in, and yet I love the sensation, the feeling of his thick cock gliding along my tongue. He doesn’t push all the way in, not yet—he draws back, and I curl my fist around the base of his cock, reach up with my other hand to toy with his balls as he starts to rock his hips against my face in a slow rhythm. Each time, he pushes a little deeper, and I swallow hard around him, worried. I’ve never tried to deep throat before. What if I gag? Will he be grossed out by it, put off by my lack of skills?
He doesn’t give me time to worry about it. He keeps going, the tip of him thrusting deeper and deeper into my mouth. I feel him touch the back of my throat, and my body tenses, unable to help it, a faint gag escaping my mouth, muffled around him.
Instead of reacting like I expected though, he groans in pleasure. I glance up to find his eyes on fire, locked on the sight of me.
“You are such a perfect little cumslut, Corbella,” he says, voice thick with desire.
That praise makes me want to take him even farther. I spread my mouth wide, lips tight around him, and suck him back into my mouth. There’s a slurping sound as I force him all the way to the back of my throat again, and I’m having trouble keeping my eyes open, focused as I am on the feeling of his dick hitting my throat.
His fist tightens, teeth clenching–my reward. “Fuck, yes,” he hisses. “Gag on my cock, baby.”
He’s lifting his hips faster now, thrusting hard, and I choke once more before I learn to relax my throat and just let him take me. It feels hot, the way he fucks my face, lost in his own pleasure. I lift my tongue to press it into the underside of his cock as he fucks me, and that does it.
He clenches his fist hard in my hair. “Fuck, I’m going to come.”
I moan in response, my lips vibrating around his hard length. I tighten my hand around the base of his shaft, slide my fist in time with my lips, his cock slick with my spit, velvety-smooth over the hard core of him.
He comes with a roar of pleasure, guttural. Sheer animal brain unleashed. I look up in time to catch the moment when that poker face breaks, and his jaw tightens, eyes unfocusing as he loses himself in the orgasm.
I swallow a mouthful of his sticky, salty cum. The flavor is amazing, all him, and I keep moving, pumping up and down his length, licking every drop up, thoroughly cleaning him with my tongue. He groans again, fainter, and his cock jumps in my hands, sensitive from the orgasm.
When I finally pull back, he’s gone slack in his seat and we’re both panting. I lick the last drops of his cum from my lips. I wonder if it’s possible to become addicted to the taste of a man’s cum. I never minded the taste with my other boyfriends, but his is…
Well. Let’s just say I already can’t wait to get him in my mouth again.
I sit up in the seat and glance over at him. I’m already thinking, “Now what?” eager for the next step. Will we fuck here? Drive to a motel and fuck there? What does he have planned for me in that dirty brain of his?
But he just smiles and reaches up to turn on the engine. “Would you like me to drop you off at home?”
I blink in surprise. What? We can’t be done. Not yet. I’m still on fire with want, the tight throb between my legs impossible to ignore now, having grown stronger since I got a taste of him. “Already?” I ask, unable to hide the disappointment in my voice.
He laughs softly, smirking. “You misunderstand, Corbella.” He reaches over to brush my hair out of my face, gently, tenderly. It’s completely at odds with his next statement. “This is about my pleasure, not yours.”
“I…” Right. Client and escort. This is my job, not a hookup. “Yes, of course, sir–”
“But,” he interrupts sharply, and that smirk of his widens. “If you ask very nicely…” His hand trails down my arm, his touch so light that every hair on my body stands on end. It feels like electricity wherever our skin meets. Impossibly good. “I’ll help you,” he adds, and his hand comes to rest on my hip, ever so lightly. Offering, but not making the first move. Waiting for me.
I already know what he wants. “Please, sir…” I start, hesitant, unsure.
He lifts one eyebrow. His hand tightens on my hip, fingers digging in harder. “Please what, my gorgeous slut?”
“Please help me.”
He leans in, his lips inches from mine. I ache to close the gap between us, but he’s in dom mode now, and I know if I move without his permission, it’ll only earn me a spanking.
Then again, maybe I should…
His eyes lock on mine. “You’re going to have to do much better than that.”
I squirm in my seat, my heart thrashing against my ribcage. It’s hard to think straight with him so close to me, with every nerve ending in my body focused on my tight pussy, the ache in my clit. I lick my lips, trying to think. “Please make me come for you, sir.”
“Better,” he says, and I feel another little rush of pleasure at the praise. “I need details. What dirty things are you imagining me doing to you, little cumslut?” His breath is hot on my cheeks, his mouth inches away. I want to kiss him more than anything, but I force myself to lower my eyes. Watch his groin instead, the bulge where he’s started to harden again, after sliding his jeans back on.
“I imagine you fucking me, sir,” I breathe.
He chuckles softly. Leans back to glance pointedly out the window of the car. “Right here?” It’s still daylight out, and we’re parked in a public lot. Not even that far from the café where I work, though at least we’re facing the other way. Anyone could walk past and see us right now. “Do you want the whole town to see you come?” His voice is a purr, but it holds a threat, too. Or maybe a promise. He would do it, I’m sure, if I asked him to.
My cheeks flush with heat. “No, sir,” I demure, too unsure, too nervous. It’s too much to risk, all at once–I don’t want to be discovered my second day on the job.
But… I can’t deny that the exposure here, sitting in this car, where anyone could walk past at any moment, or even be watching us already from one of the neighboring buildings… That does hold a certain thrill. “But,” I add, and his grin sharpens. “I do imagine you fingering me here, sir… Where anyone could see what a slut I am.”
It’s the first time I’ve called myself a slut out loud. There’s a thrill in it, a forbidden pleasure. Owning this red-hot lust I feel.
“I see…” He slides his hand under the waistband of my jeans, right at my hipbone. Slowly he flattens his palm against my stomach, and lets his hand glide around to my belly button. His fingers graze the edge of my panties, under my jeans, and I can’t help but gasp faintly. “So you want me to push my fingers inside you. Make you come out in public.”
“Yes, sir.” I lean toward him, even as he yanks my jeans open in one swift motion, pushes them down my hips. “Please, sir, let me come for you.”
“Oh, I will.” His eyes spark with promise. Then he reaches up with his other hand to shift the car out of park. My eyes widen. “But only because I have to drive you home anyway. Tell me where to take you.”
I hesitate for a second, lost in thought–mostly thoughts about his hand just inches away from my pussy.
He misunderstands my hesitation because his eyes flash. “It doesn’t have to be your actual house. You can give me a friend’s address, or a place nearby. I won’t follow you without asking again.”
My chest tightens at the thought. He thinks I’m mad about today, about him coming to work. I shake my head, reach up to grip his shoulder. “No, it’s fine. I don’t mind.” I glance down pointedly at his hand in my pants. “How could I complain?”
He relaxes a little, smiling again, and I give him directions to my place. It’s not far, only a ten-minute drive. Normally I ride with Diana or walk home. But now, for the first time ever, I find myself wishing I lived a lot farther from work. Anything to drag this moment out. To get more time with him.
We pull out of the parking lot as his hand slips beneath my panties and his thick, strong fingers spread around my pussy lips. He doesn’t touch me, not quite yet. Just everywhere around me, letting me feel his warm palm against my mound, his fingers exploring my inner thighs.
“I can’t stop thinking about you, Corbella,” he murmurs, eyes on the road. “I fantasized about you last night. Thought about fucking you in my shower, pushing you up against the cold tile wall and feeling your legs wrap around my waist. I got off thinking about the little moaning sounds you’d make as I fucked you…”
My pussy clenches, heart thrashing. “I fantasized about you, too, sir,” I whisper. Then I get distracted for a second as he drags a finger along my slit. A faint moan escapes my lips.
He chuckles. “I love how wet you get for me, my little slut.” His fingers spread my pussy lips wide, and his middle finger circles my entrance, teasing. “Tell me, whose pussy is this?”
I swallow hard. “Yours, sir.”
“Tell me again.” His finger presses against my entrance, poised to take me, not quite giving me what I want, not yet.
“It’s your pussy, sir.” I cry out the last words, as he thrusts his finger deep inside me. “Fuck, oh, fuck, it’s yours; I’m yours.” I hardly realize what I’m saying, it feels so good when he curls his finger inside my pussy.
He slips it out, and I whimper in protest. But he doesn’t leave me hanging for long. Soon he pushes two fingers into me, fucks me gently while his thumb circles my clit. He doesn’t quite touch my clit, as though he knows how sensitive it is right now, from what feels like ages of deprivation, unmet desire.
“One rule,” he says, and my eyes flash over to him. He’s still focused on the road, cool as ever, as though nothing is going on below the belt. Belatedly, I realize we’re driving right through downtown, with dozens of people crossing the street in each direction, or sitting waiting for the lights to change in cars around us. Did anyone see me? Notice what was happening, the way my mouth parted and I moaned with desire?
Shit.
But also, fucking hell that’s hot.
I clench around his fingers, unconsciously. “Yes, sir?” I ask, panting with effort at maintaining a straight face.
He strokes his thumb over my clit, and it’s so electric I jump against the seat, sucking air through my teeth with a hiss. “You have to finish before I park outside your place. Or you’ll get no release from me.”
I glance at the intersection where we’re currently idling, waiting for the light change. Shit. Only a few minutes left. “I understand, sir,” I murmur, nodding, even as I arch my hips up against his hand.
He adds a third finger inside me, thumb still resting against my clit, not moving, just putting pressure on. Then he starts to fuck me in earnest. Thrusting faster as the light changes and he hits the gas. I lean back against the seat, arching my back, trying to keep my face under control even as my body writhes with pleasure. I’m half distracted, worrying about the distance home, and half lost in pleasure every time he thrusts into me again, deeper, fingers curling against my front wall, grazing that G-spot over and over.
Just as we turn onto my street, it finally hits me.
“That’s it,” he growls. “Come for me, slut.”
Right on cue, the orgasm sweeps through me. My hips fly up off the seat of their own accord, my shoulders digging into the backrest, my legs trembling with the force of the orgasm. I cry out something, though I’m not sure what. All I see are sparks across my vision; all I feel is a deep throb of release, something unspooling inside my belly.
Then he slides his hand out of my pants, and brings his fingers to his lips to taste me, one at a time.
I’m still catching my breath, staring at him, waiting for my next orders. He catches my eye and smirks.
“I’ll see you in two days, Corbella.”
I blink, startled. Then remember where we are. We’ve already parked outside my place. Time to go.
I don’t want to, though. I want to drag this moment out. Make it last longer–forever, if possible. Taking a risk, I lean across the gearshift to cup his cheek in my hand. I kiss him, slowly, gently. His eyes flutter closed, and he lets me kiss him. But his lips don’t move against mine–I get nothing back in return.
When I draw back an inch to look at him, questioning, his eyes are dark and unreadable. He’s holding something back… But what? Why?
“Corbella,” he murmurs, and this time the command has gone from his voice. We’re out of dom mode, back into normal Giovanni mode.
Is it strange that after just two days of knowing one another, I already can tell what’s normal for him?
“You need to think about what you’re doing,” he says.
My eyebrows draw together on their own, a little frown of confusion. “What do you mean?” I ask.
He continues watching me in silence for another long moment. Then he shakes his head, laughs a little ruefully. “Nothing. Don’t mind me.” He taps the door button to unlock them. “I shouldn’t be trying to talk you out of something I want, after all.”
I’m still watching him, making no move to leave. I want to figure him out. I want to understand what makes him tick. I want more than just sex from him, I realize. I want to know him.
But he glances toward my house pointedly. “Goodbye, Corbella.” And at that, I have no choice.
I push open the door and step out of the car. Slam it behind me, and stand on the curb, watching his taillights fade into the distance. Even after he’s gone, I keep standing there, watching the space where he used to be, thinking. Wondering.
Is it all in my head? This dissolving line between us, the idea that we’re more than just client and escort? That he could want me for more than just his whore?
Maybe I’ve imagined it all. Maybe he just wants to fuck me, business-arrangement style, and be done with it.
But then, why did he come to my coffee shop today? Why seek me out, when he’d already told me he wouldn’t see me for a few more days? And why did he go quiet now, almost warning me off?
I shouldn’t be trying to talk you out of something I want, he said. Which almost makes it sound like he’s worried about me, in spite of himself.
But why?
I don’t know what to think anymore. None of this is what I expected when I decided to start escorting.
And yet, I don’t want it to stop…