AKA the cunning linguist; AKA el lingüista astuto; AKA Thomas the Tongue Engine; AKA le linguiste adroit; AKA il linguista abile; AKA the cunning linguist; AKA el lingüista astuto; AKA Thomas the Tongue Engine; AKA le linguiste adroit; AKA il linguista abile;

Wednesday, 14 September 2011

Booty Buddies?

I first started seeing M at a parlour more than 2 years ago.  We had immediately ‘clicked’ with similar senses of humour and interests, despite an 18 year age difference.  M provided a very passionate service, aiming to make her clients feel as if they were “making love with her” (her words).  In time, she asked if I would be interested in seeing her privately as she hated the time limitations in the parlour.  We exchanged mobile phone numbers and in time some friendly phone banter developed and we started using real names instead of our “working/punting” names (M became T and I became G).

Then early last year, M/T had a small medical accident (no, not that sort - dental in fact) and took time off work.  Her dental situation was addressed and after a couple of false starts I finally got to make that private visit.

I took an afternoon ‘sickie’, had bought a bottle of Cab-Merlot the night before, then a bunch of red roses on the way out.  It’s an hour’s drive from work to her seaside cottage, so I stopped half way for a mouth-wash and dose of Viagra (full tablet - bad move - with wine, ended up with a whopper of a head-ache that evening).  

I received a very warm welcome, big hugs and passionate kisses. Had a quick show-around her
lovely cottage.  In the kitchen, we arranged the roses into a vase, then opened the wine.  We settled in the lounge with our wine and cuddled up for a lovely catch-up chat.  M/T has decided to give up the parlour and still has difficulty shaking off her old “M” personna. It’s been over 3 months and T (no longer M) I am soon to find out is as horny as anything.

Two glasses down, we decide to retire to the bed-room. I open my "punting kit" on the bed-side table - massage oil, lube and rubbers. We cuddle some more, and help each other undress.  T is down to bra and knickers.  She finds a hanger for my cloths, concerned I might get dog hair on them from the floor (thank goodness the dogs have been put outside).  I replace my knickers with the "pyjama G" I have packed and T turns me around admiringly.

We slip into her big old bed with big fluffy pillows and eider-down and enfold each other in each-others arms with more deep passionate kisses. I tell her how honoured I am to be  asked to come into her private home and to share her private bed.  This simply elicits another big kiss and cuddle. There is lots of caressing and I kiss her neck, nibbling her ears and kiss down to her breasts, gently easing aside her bra.  With one arm around her I mange the one-handed unclipping for which she congratulates me.  I now have full access to her glorious 38DDs and my kissing quickly has her pert nipples rosy pink, hard and erect.

Our hands are all over each-other now, breasts, backs, thighs, legs, privates.  She spreads her legs for me as I ease her nickers off.  She is very wet under my exploring fingers. I kiss my way down to her clit.  I've worked my way down the bed now till I have full access to her love petals.  As I lick and nibble her love lips swell and are opening, and my face is getting wet from her juices. Within 5 minutes she is arching her back and stiffening as a series of orgasms sweep through her body.

I pull aways since she is very sensitive now.  Her hands slide into the band of my G-string and I assist her to slide them off. With T's immediate appetite sated for the moment, I kissed my way up her body.  Just as I reached her mouth to kiss her once more, OMG, we just slipped together - no conscious effort, no fumbling, not planned (at this time) nor expected.  I froze - WTF - no condom.  What do I do? What do I say? Do I apologize?  I wasn't ready for fucking just yet.  But, God it felt good.


As I eased out, I asked if T would like a massage.  I reached for the massage oil on the bedside table and proceeded to give T my best, most sensual, all-over, front and back, massage.


Finally, with T totally relaxed and me a little worn, we lay down, side-by-side, cuddling and totally relaxed.  


After 5 minutes or so, T pulled my to her and whispered, "Come here" and pulled me over onto her.  As we kissed, she spread her legs and as I slid between them, we just slipped into full coupling again.  This was no accident any more.


God, T was so hot and wet and horny.  It must have been 4 months since she had had any man.  I knew that she had had her last monthly STI test back then, and I had had a clear test around the same time.  I had been "snipped" some 30 years ago so I knew "au naturalle" was quite safe for us at this time.  T had always followed the "safe sex" protocol at "work", so goodness knows how long it had been for her since she had gone bare-back - it had probably been 5-10 years for me.  God it felt good.


This was no longer a "client service", nor sex for fun, nor just because it feels great.  This was a deep down primordial "need" to be loved, to be wanted, to be needed, to be joined in flesh and spirit.  Despite the passion of our ensuing fucking, I paced myself as much as I could.  When covered, I don't come easily these days, but now the sensation was awesome.  I could feel ever ridge in her pussy and the slightest squeeze, twist and turn.  And I knew that T could feel every twitch of my cock.  It was hardening even more and swelling now, so I asked T, "How would you like me to come?" (Now T has quite a taste for cum and I have enjoyed numerous, explosive blow-jobs from her and she swallows every single drop).  


But today was different - she had a special need.  "I want to feel your cum pumping deep up inside me" she replied.  "Only on one condition" I responded, "That I can lick you out".  No words were needed to answer me, as she wrapped her legs around my waist and pulled me as deep as possible into her, lifting her hips to thrust against me, twisting and writhing against my pelvis.  Her arms wrapped around my neck and pulled me into wild passionate kissing.  We fucked with wild abandon till my body stiffened and my hips involuntarily thrust my cock as deep as possible into her hot, hot cunt, pumping, pumping, pumping my creamy cum, deep, deep, deep up inside her.


As I slowly subsided from my orgasm, T squeezed my still semi-hard cock (thank you Viagra), holding it tightly inside herself as her own spasms continued.  Finally we collapsed.  I had a smile on my face a broad as a Cheshire cat's, and kissed T again, gently.  I kissed my way down T's body to her sopping wet, red hot cunt.  My cum juices were just starting to trickle out.  Now I don't normally have a taste for (male) cum, but the mixture of my cum and her pussy juices had a heady aroma and our well stirred cream-pie tasted yummy.


T then called me to "Come up here" and I offered her my cock for her to lick and suck our combined cum and pussy juices off it till it was completed licked clean.


We collapsed onto the bed, entwined in each other arms.  Our bodies glowed with the post coital sheen of perspiration.  I think we must have dropped off to sleep together for 5 minutes or more.


When we finally woke and got up to shower, T exclaimed, "Look!  You've christened my sheets" - I felt honoured!


Although we had never discussed money, her original invitation implied a "client" visit, but wow, this morning was a real "booty call".  Even so, I knew her financial situation was strained since finishing work, so I left a discreet "gift" on her bedside table.



We unwound in the lounge, sipping chai lattes, listening to "Love Songs of the Sixties" and chatting some more.  She mentioned that she had met someone and had started dating semi-seriously.  I was the only (other) man she was “seeing” since leaving “the industry”.  I reassured her that at any time, if she felt our “relationship” was inappropriate, she just had to say and I would back-away.  In many ways, we had something more than a “service provider/client” relationship.  Over the last couple of years we had shared many things about our private situations.  In T’s words, we were “survivors” and were “there for each other”.  Over the coming visits and months, we never did have “that conversation”, though I did continue bringing presents.

And so reluctantly, I slipped my suit coat on, and after a long lingering kiss at the door, headed off to home in the fading twilight.

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