Chapter 36
My panties were soaked, stuck between my thighs. I was lying under the covers, phone in hand, scrolling through the screen while trying to pick some porn that would make me cum. But, like always, I got distracted. They say I'm like that—a woman who loses focus easily, the type who lets the horniness fade just to have a laugh.
On those sites, the ads always hook me. Those are the best ones.
One in particular caught my eye as I scrolled through the photos, letting the fantasy take over. I'd never have the guts to fuck a stranger.
"But… what if I knew the guy was a total pro? Wouldn't that make it less weird?"
My hands slid slowly over my body, seeking some unconscious relief, a caress disguised as a wandering thought. And then, I saw him.
"Oh my God…"
Tall, white, defined muscles, and a face that was pure wickedness—20 years old, it said, but he was definitely older... 19 centimeters, important info. His eyes said it all: he knew exactly what to do with a woman. A contact number glowed next to the photo.
My finger hovered over the screen.
"Do I call… or not?"
What if I called just out of curiosity? But that would be kinda shitty to waste his time for nothing, right? Because deep down, I knew… If I dialed that number, there'd be no turning back.
Before my mind could finish deciding, my body decided for me.
I called.
"Hello?"
My heart pounded.
"Hi, um… I saw your ad and wanted to know how it works…"
My voice came out kinda shaky. I wasn't that kind of woman. Or maybe I was, and I'd never let myself be.
He chuckled softly on the other end.
"Good thing you called. The rates are in the ad, but if you want something special, just tell me. I usually come prepared for almost anything… You got any specific kinks?"
My kink? My kink was him busting through my apartment door, throwing me against the wall, fucking me like my body was his, making me climb the walls and pounding me until I couldn't breathe. But, yeah? Giving a stranger free rein to hit me seemed a bit dangerous. And holy shit… what a voice this guy had. Deep, calm, confident. The type that didn't ask. It commanded.
"No sir, I don't!" I had a million, but I wasn't gonna tell a stranger that. God, I'm such an idiot.
"Just send me your address and some instructions," he continued. "And I'll show up to visit you."
Silence. My mouth was dry.
"Okay… I'll think about it."
But I already knew the answer.
I looked at my hand. Oh my God. It looked like I'd been whipping egg whites. I was touching myself without realizing. Fast. Desperate. My breathing was short, choppy, and I could barely think straight. A mix of horniness and nerves left me dizzy. The idea of opening the door, letting a man in, him fucking me straight up and leaving seemed insane. But what really scared me was how much it turned me on. Guys had done that to me before—come over, fuck me, and leave. But at least they'd had the decency to lie to me first.
And now?
I sent the message before my conscience could stop me.
My address. A reminder to bring condoms. And the dumbest question possible: "Accepts Venmo?"
Seconds later, I wanted to slap myself.
"Fuck, you idiot… of course he's gonna bring a condom, he's a hooker! And obviously he takes Venmo!" I muttered to myself, laughing at my own nerves.
But the laugh died quick.
Reality hit.
Wasn't this kinda gross? This guy must've been with God knows how many women before me. How many bodies, how many mixed sweats, how many pussies and asses? A shiver ran down my spine. A stab of disgust mixed with the horniness, but I tried not to think about it—after all, it was too late.
I was buzzing. In three hours, he'd be here. The place was clean, I didn't need to shave, I'd just showered, and I had nothing to do but wait. My mind was pure nerves.
I paced back and forth, bit my lips, checked my phone for no reason. I felt like a teenager waiting for her first boyfriend.
"Maybe I'll bake a cake… the guy might be tired, right?"
I stopped in the middle of the kitchen and laughed to myself.
"Oh my God, who bakes a cake for a male escort?"
At least, if I froze up, we could sit and eat a cornbread muffin.
Three hours dragged longer than three days. Every minute crawled, and I checked my reflection in every surface like it was a big date. Did I put on perfume? Yeah. Everything good? Yeah. Am I ready? No clue.
And only when the intercom buzzed did I realize: I was still in my nightgown. Old. Faded. The doorman announced him. My stomach knotted. I let him up and went to the door. My hands were sweating.
When I saw him for the first time, my heart shook and I froze with a dumb look on my face. He greeted me like we were old friends, and I didn't know what to say. But he broke the ice by commenting on the route he took to get there.
"I can tell you're a little nervous… We can talk about what you want or go straight to it…" He made a face that made even my ass sweat.
"Yeah… you want cake?" I had to say something.
He laughed.
"Maybe after."
The way he said it caught me off guard. He was suggesting something I didn't get right away.
"After what? Oh!" My face burned. "Like… now? Do I take my clothes off? Is it like a doctor's visit?"
And that's when it all unraveled. That man, who up till then seemed like an angel, turned into a flaming demon right there in front of me. He didn't say a word. Just grabbed me by the neck with a firmness that gave me chills all over, and kissed me. Hot, firm, dominant. It was the middle of the living room, but I felt like I was in a groundless void. My feverish body, surrendered. His arms wrapped around me, pulling me against that hard chest, and I felt every inch of his strength. He knew exactly what he was doing, and I didn't know shit anymore.
He settled me on the couch and looked around, like he was searching for something.
"You got some music? Something to relax to?"
"Relaxing would be good, I need it," I thought. "Alexa, play a sex soundtrack for me."
And she did.
The rhythm started, and with it, the guy moved slowly, staring at me. His gaze undressed me before his hands did. It made me shy, but I didn't want him to stop. Shoes, shirt, pants… In the end, only a tight pair of briefs left, highlighting a full bulge.
"No one's ever danced like that for me," I thought. "Gotta pay for it!" I concluded.
If it were a strip show, I'd be screaming with my friends, but if I did that now, I'd wake the whole building. My hands were dying to touch him, but he wouldn't let me. Every time I tried, he'd smirk and say I was being disobedient, that if I kept it up, he'd have to punish me.
"Fuck it, punish me," I really thought I'd have to beg.
I didn't wait for permission. I grabbed the guy's package, and he didn't get mad. Over the briefs, I felt the warm, rigid bulge, but soft at the same time. It throbbed and grew under my fingers, and my mouth watered.
"Gotta suck him with a condom on, right? What a bummer!" I thought.
I was having fun stroking him when he turned his back—what a gorgeous ass the man had, better taken care of than mine, it seemed. It was firm and the skin so smooth, I yanked those briefs down in one pull. I gave that ass several smacks while laughing with joy at the dominance! "It's mine, I'm paying! If he talks too much, he'll do the dishes from the cake." I laughed to myself.
When he finally finished his dance, his fingers tangled in the hair at my nape. With a firm grip, he tested his hold and pulled me up from the couch, forcing me to stand. Without asking, without breaking eye contact, he yanked my nightgown up, letting my tits bounce free.
He arched me backward like I was an object and, without hesitating, latched onto my left tit with perfect hunger. His other hand slid over my body, scratching me lightly with his nails. I writhed like crazy, a weak laugh stuck on my lips, overcome by pleasure and surrender.
"Take off your panties." The voice was firm, non-negotiable.
I obeyed without him pulling his mouth from my tits. My skin was sensitive, goosebumped, given over to every touch. The cool night air brushed my body, amplifying every sensation. I felt the whole room, the heat, the chill, his mouth.
I was delirious from the hickeys he gave me, held by the firm grip in my hair, controlled like a thing.
And then it got even more intense.
His hand slid between my legs and, the instant he touched me, a shock ran through my body, making me gasp. The nerves mixed with horniness made me tremble, the urgency of his touch burned on my skin, and everything inside me screamed for more. I'd always complained about guys who went straight for it, but now here I was, surrendered, being taken with brutality, feeling every second and loving it. The wet sound of me filled the room, his fingers traced paths on my hot, throbbing flesh, teased, tested, tortured me with precise touches—light, deep, lingering. I opened up, begging wordlessly for him to penetrate me, but he didn't give in.
He seemed to be searching for something.
And when he found it, a loud moan escaped my throat before I could hold it back. The tips of his fingers pressed my clit with surgical precision, alternating between quick flicks and intense squeezes that swallowed my whole pussy in a cruel, delicious game. My muscles tensed, my whole body stiffened as a hot, overwhelming wave rose up my legs, spread through my belly, and consumed me without mercy. My chest heaved, I couldn't control the sounds from my mouth anymore, each touch pushed me closer to the edge, and when it hit, it was like my body exploded from the inside out—a raw, uncontrollable shock that made me scream, writhe, try to push him away, but he wouldn't let me.
He held me tight, hands pinning my wrists as he forced me to ride it out to the last spasm. I yelled, begged him to stop, and when he finally eased up, my body gave out too. My legs buckled, my breathing was just ragged gasps, my mind floated in a void between pleasure and exhaustion. All that was left was the breathlessness, the echoes of pleasure vibrating through every inch of me, and a huge, absurd, immoral sense of satisfaction.
I was pushed onto the couch and pulled back to the edge. He was right there, at face level, swinging his cock like a club—big, beautiful, ridiculously curved, no bulging veins, smooth and perfect. He slapped my face with it, rubbed it against my skin, tested my limits, made me feel the weight of what I wanted so bad. Oh my God!
Sometimes he'd shove it in my mouth and hold my head, setting the pace, using me however he wanted, and I surrendered to his control, feeling a dirty, humiliating pleasure that made me shake.
"Spit, spit on it, you slut."
The slap came hard against my face, followed by a deep thrust down my throat.
"You want this dry inside you?"
Another slap, another invasion.
I was already limp, submissive, given over to whatever he wanted to do to me, but I didn't have time to think. He pushed me back on the couch, spread my legs and pinned them up high, trapping me. I tried to grab him, but the bastard was faster.
I felt his cock probing my entrance, teasing, playing with my patience. I sensed every spot he brushed, each slide sending a different shiver. When he positioned the head at my opening, my body braced like for a scare, muscles tensing, heart racing, and then he paused, leaving me in the agony of waiting, drawing out my anticipation before finally slamming into me all at once, burying deep until he hit my cervix.
The shock made me gasp, my whole body clenched around him. I felt my walls yielding, welcoming every inch, opening as the friction ripped raw, overwhelming pleasure from me. It was like a perfect fit, like an electric shock that shot through my belly and chilled my spine. If I could stretch that first-entry sensation into infinity, I wouldn't want anything else in life.
He pulled out slow again, letting me feel every inch slide free, just to thrust back in, this time harder, sinking to the limit of my body, pushing my insides to some unknown place. My scream mixed with a drawn-out moan as he started fucking me for real, holding my legs high, opening my body to him with no room for resistance.
The couch creaked, the cushions sank under the weight of the motion. The slap of our skin mixed with the wet, obscene sounds of the thrusts. I was swallowed by him, filled, shaped, my body learning to take this man who gave no quarter.
"That's it, give me that pussy, fuck."
"Fuck me harder, shit, wreck me!"
He folded me, tore me, took me like I was all his, and I was. My skin was on fire, my nipples hard, my belly tight, each thrust stealing the air from my lungs, making me forget who I was before being there, under him, getting fucked like never before.
"Harder, come on!"
His eyes devoured me, sweat dripped down his defined chest, and I just wanted to see more, feel more, be taken further. When I thought I was at my limit, he flipped me onto my stomach, grabbed my waist, and impaled me hard. My face sank into the couch, my nails dug into the fabric as he punished me from behind—a barrage of deep, violent thrusts that left me limp, broken, submissive to his insane rhythm.
"Holy fuck, shit, fuck me hard!"
My head spun, my mouth half-open just letting out uncontrollable moans. I wasn't in charge of anything anymore, just a body seized by the overwhelming pleasure he shoved into me without mercy.
The orgasm started building, clawing at my belly, making me tremble.
"I'm gonna cum, I'm gonna cum, I'm gonna cum..."
My vision went white in a flash, an electric shock rising through my belly and exploding inside me. My body locked up before collapsing in uncontrolled spasms, my scream echoing through the room, my pussy throbbing around him, sucking and squeezing every inch as my hot cum spread between us. I dissolved, lost in the pleasure, shattered from the inside and starving for more.
He growled, gripped my waist harder, sped up the thrusts, and buried himself deep, moaning low, muscles tense as he unloaded inside me, his cock pulsing within, still hard, still wanting more.
I lay there, breathing heavy with my body hot, wet, and satisfied. I didn't know how much time had passed. I didn't know my name. I didn't know anything.
"Hey, now you want the cupcake?"
And I laughed, satisfied—the best money I'd ever spent.
lol