First Client

This post is a present for C.



Lately, I’ve also been working as an art model. Mainly, it’s cold and bits of me fall asleep, but it’s also lovely to sit in one place, no phone, no ‘net, no obligations but to hold still (no wonder I’m a closet submissive). The art students often ask how I manage to hold still, and I say, “Well, it’s great thinking time.”

Here’s what I think...



I wait in the park, on the sidewalk near the transit station, watching businesswomen eat hotdogs. August, still a little warm, I’m still a little jet-lagged from the eight-hour flight last week. Wearing, from the top down: pigtails; genuine-but-off-the-back-of-the-truck Chanel sunglasses; a smirk; orange spandex tank top; orange lacy bra with visible straps; low-slung black skirt, barely covers my ass, two little vinyl buckled straps, three pleats; fence-net stockings; black patent spike-heeled knee-high boots.

He walks by, looks me up and down, looks away. Once around the fountain, he’s back. “Are you working?”

“Yes.”

“How much for an hour?”

“Two hundred.”

“Do you do anal?”

“Two-fifty.”

We cross the street to his hotel, the tour bus stopping short, I see the driver in the giant front window give the same look, and I smile and wave. Up to the 24th floor, express elevator, the room is freshly made up, white towels, white sheets.

“I’m Mandy.” There’s an M on my purse, black patent with electric blue piping.

“I’m Matt.”

“May I see your ID, please?” He holds it with his finger over the address, I check his name and picture, he’s from somewhere else, so not a cop. We are in a country where our transaction is technically legal, and also less of a big deal, but it’s still best to check. I phone and leave a message, the room number, when I expect to finish. He lies on the bed, half sitting, there are seven pillows on each of the two beds.

“You’re so hot.”

“Thanks, you’re hot, too. What do you want to do first?”

“Do you kiss?”

“Not your lips…” and I move between his legs and unbutton his jeans. His cock is very soft, usually they’re already hard by now, but it’s nice to take him in my mouth without choking.

“Mmmmm…I love your dick, it tastes so good…”

He lets me suck for awhile, then “Turn around, I want you in 69.”

He buries his nose in my pussy, licks me while I suck him, rubs his mouth up and down me. His cock hardens in my mouth, his licking gets more frantic, his tongue slightly rough on my clit and the soft area below, so good to have touched.

“I want you on your knees.”

He slides to the edge of the bed, stands up, I kneel on the carpet and suck his cock again, running my tongue around the head, taking the length into my mouth and moving up and down while my tongue presses underneath. He reaches down and grabs.

“Remember, they’re pigtails, not handlebars,” I say with difficulty around a mouthful of cock.

He loosens up but still holds on, pulling my head onto his cock, the head bumping the back of my throat, I gag slightly and hold the base more firmly as a buffer, my curled fingers hitting my lips.

He pulls me off his cock. “Stand up and turn around. I want you bent over the bed.”

“Just a minute,” and I go to my purse, get a condom, kneel on the bed to put it on him.


I press my hands into the bedspread, my skirt so short it doesn’t need my help to slide up, display my ass in orange thong and black fishnets, the kind with the big diamond shaped holes. The spike heels make me tall enough to lean back and rub against his ass. He puts his hands on my ass, rubs my skin, grabs my hips to pull me back and rub against me, the fishnets rough between us.

“Can I rip these?”

“You rip, you tip.” They’re expensive.

He tears them open and slides into me from behind, pulling me apart to let him in, then holding the bones of my hips and fucking me hard.

“Oh, yeah, fuck me with that dick, yeah baby...”

He pushes me forward onto the bed, I’m on my hands and knees, he thrusts again and pulls out, climbs over me, lies on his back.

“Get on top.” I straddle him on my knees, rub the head of his cock back and forth along my pussy, get it wet, make me ready. He holds the tip at my entrance, and I kneel lower, sliding him into me. He grabs my hips again and thrusts up into me, his cock brushing my cervix, his pubic bone pressing into my clit, his hips against mine, spreading me wider around him. He pulls down the front of my tank top, admires my bra and pulls it down too, taking my breasts in his hands, pulling me towards him, licking and sucking my nipples, pushing my breasts together to alternate between them, rubbing his face, his tongue on the flesh. I draw him in and out, pausing at the top to feel the head of his cock almost slide out and then pierce me again, that little ripple at the top.

“I want your ass.”

“OK, but really slow and gentle at first, please.”

“OK.”

My ripped fishnets flutter around my ass, I hand him the bottle of lubricant and he slides a finger into me.

“You’re pretty tight.”

“So go slow.”

He slides another finger in, swirls around, back and forth, and I concentrate on relaxing. I reach back to check the condom as he positions himself at the entrance, then pushes. I remember the first man who ever put anything in my ass, “Push, go poo, push” and release. He slides into me, slowly at first, until he can feel me loosening a little.

“OK, fuck me, baby. Use that dick in my ass. Come on, yeah, you know I want it, you know what I like. I love your big dick, I love having your dick in my ass, yeah, give it to me.”

He comes in nine thrusts, I feel him harden right before he shoots, very hard, painfully hard, thank god it’s only right before he comes. We breathe for a moment.

“Hold on to that, OK?” I tell him, and he grabs the base of the condom while I wiggle off him.

The hour is nearly up. I step into the bathroom and clean up, thankful for the mess containment of safer sex. He cleans up, too, and then presents me with my fee and another 80 for tip.

“Thank you very much.”

“You’re welcome. Is there any way to get in touch with you if I come back here?”

I write my number on a piece of hotel stationary, sign my name with a big swoopy Y.

I leave the room, duck through the fire door into the stairwell, take off my skirt, my ripped stockings, my tank top, throw on a clean dress. Knock on the door –

Lover opens, grabs me, holds me.

“Well, that was fucking fantastic.”

He nods agreement, his face in my hair. “You never say ‘dick’.”

“I know, I hate that word, it always sounds like something small. Plus it means ‘jerk’.”

“Even your voice didn’t sound like you.”

We fuck again, his cock in my ass this time bare, hardening again just before he comes, just before I come, vibrator pressed tightly to my clit. The sex is very different, even though he is the same man, I am not the same woman. Afterwards, he holds me, I give him back the fee but keep the tip. “I’m going to use it to pay for the boots.”

“You could have kept the whole thing, I was prepared for that.”

“Maybe next time. Probably next time. Will you still be a good tipper?”

“Long as you’re still such an amazing fuck.”

And I hit him with all seven pillows, one after the other, hard as I can swing while he fends me off laughing.