“Kiss it,” is his harsh command. “Suck it until I come.”
My plush pout parts willingly, and oh God, this man is so huge that I almost choke as his snake slips down my throat. Tears come to my eyes as he begins licking my clit in a dirty sixty-nine, and then it happens again. I’m taken unawares because I’m still reeling from my first climax, but then the second one slams into me like a tidal wave and I let out a muffled cry as I soar over the edge again.
“Mphpph!” is my scream. “Unnnh!”
The pressure from my throat is too much, and Rick erupts as well. He lets out a loud roar, and then the anaconda between my lips jerks as hot male fluid spurts down my throat. I suck and swallow as much as possible but there’s so much that the fluid seeps from the corners of my lips.
“Mmmm,” I moan again, blissful as his seed fills me. “Umm.”
Rick comes and comes and comes, pumping me full of that heavenly jism. I swallow continuously, unable to get enough even as tears come to my eyes because who knew this would happen? I’m a pregnant escort desperate for money, and yet my first time with a client was absolutely sensational.
7
Rick
As the car winds its way through East Harlem, I watch absentmindedly as the neighborhood rolls by. I don’t frequent this part of the city often, and I’m surprised by how run-down it is, with its giant tracts of crumbling public housing and no-name grocery stores selling government foodstuffs.
Hannah lives here? I ask myself. Fuck, I need to get her out.
After all, this isn’t exactly where I want my woman to be spending her time. She deserves better than a subway that runs above-ground instead of below-ground, and her baby deserves better than the decrepit public playground we just passed. Goddamn, I’ve got to get her out of here stat because we’ve been seeing each now for a little over two weeks, and since that first night together, we’ve been practically inseparable. Most of the time, we’re at my place but today, she finally agreed to let me pick her up at her apartment before we go out on the town for a date. Now, I know why.
My car pulls up outside of Hannah’s apartment building and I examine it from my window. The mid-size building is nothing to write home about with its grimy exterior and rickety-looking fire escape. Is that thing even safe? I can’t help but wonder. Surely, it must violate FDNY fire code somehow. But that can’t be solved now, and I turn to the driver.
“I’ll just be a minute,” I say in a curt tone. He nods his head and puts the car in park at the curb as I bound out of the car with a bouquet of sunflowers in hand. Then, I click the buzzer next to Hannah’s name on the intercom, and within seconds, she answers.
“Sweetheart,” I speak through the intercom, “I’m here.”
“Oh, I’ll be right down,” she chirps cheerfully.
“No, buzz me up,” I tell her. I’m determined to see where this woman lives, if only to learn more about her. After all, Hannah’s captivated me like no woman ever has before, and it’s important to see people in their natural settings.
“Um, but my place is a mess,” she argues feebly.
I click the button again and growl. “Hannah, I will scale the fire escape if I need to. Now buzz me in.”
There’s a long pause and then a sigh. As if on cue, the main door clicks open, admitting me into a quaint entryway. When was this place last refurbished? The 1960’s? The entire entryway is done up in a dingy greyish-green, and the building smells like cigarettes. That can’t be good for a pregnant woman.
I take the stairs two at a time up to the fourth floor and try not to look at the outdated carpeting and lack of windows. Then, upon reaching my woman’s door, I breathe in. Everyone lives in different situations, and not everyone is a billionaire, I remind myself. But before I can knock, Hannah opens the wooden slab.
“Hi stranger,” she smiles shyly. “I wasn’t expecting you to come up.” The breath escapes from my lungs because she’s ravishing, as usual. By now, I’ve been in that pregnant body every way until Sunday, and yet my mouth still waters at the sight of her enormous breasts and bulging belly.
“Hi,” I growl before stepping forward and kissing her hard on the mouth. “I’ve missed you.”
She giggles softly as I lift my head, and my eyes sweep over the entire space in seconds. It’s very feminine, comfortable, and cozy actually. This isn’t my penthouse, but it definitely has the feel of home. The couch is cheerful but well-worn with a patchwork quilt thrown over the back. There’s a rickety dining table pushed against the wall, and a kitchen so laughably small that I’m surprised it even fits a stove. But Hannah’s done a good job with the decorations, and candles are scattered about, as well as colorful curtains that flutter against the windows.