The Therapist's Journey Ch. 10

I looked at the woman in the mirror; she was wantonly rocking her hips in time with the toys. I felt the pressure increase inside me. I was ready to explode. I flipped up the power on both vibrators and it suddenly happened; my orgasm slammed into me. My deep guttural moans filled the room and my body felt like it was on overload; all my systems were about to short-circuit.

And then I felt another thing I'd never felt before. I looked in the mirror. A thick liquid was leaking from my vagina. I was squirting. I returned my head to the pillow, floating in a sea of sensations. I was filled with light, euphoric energy, all negative emotions banished. I felt fulfillment, peace. The room smelled like sex; it smelled good. I smiled: if Kevin running off with his secretary could lead me to this, well, he could be forgiven. I had started to drift off into a deep contented sleep when I remembered that Sally had asked that I send her short messages immediately after events. With my little remaining volition I rolled over and sent her a text.

"Sally, I wore sexy lingerie today. Even flashed somebody. It's an incredible turn-on. Used sex toys tonight. Amazing orgasms. Look forward to next movie. Love Eve."

* * * * *

I woke up the next day, my body awash in the sensations from the night before. There was only one full day of school left, final exams were set for tomorrow. I was going to devote the day to exam preparation. I was feeling very sexy. I put on a lacy black bra with a matching garter, stockings, and panties. I admired myself in the mirror. I imagined standing before the class in stiletto heels, a mini-skirt, and something tight up top, but saner thoughts prevailed. I found a tweed shawl-collar jacket and pencil skirt and secured the outfit with a black belt and then, what the hell, put on three and one-half inch heels.

As the second class let out I caught Scottie's eye. He got the message. He lingered behind talking to some of the other kids in the hall. I turned my back to the door, ostensibly erasing the board, but taking the opportunity to loosen my belt and open my jacket, exposing some cleavage. I sat on my desk, my legs dangling from its side. Scottie wandered back in.

"Good luck tomorrow."

He approached me, standing close enough so that my swinging feet bumped his legs. He did not stare, but definitely caught a hint of my bra. "Thanks. It looks like you're getting ready to lose our bet."

I checked the hallway. It was clear. I hiked up my skirt, displaying my stockings and garters. "Maybe I'm just trying to inspire you to study harder."

Scottie glanced down, taking in my display. He did not stare or leer.

"Consider me inspired."

Scottie walked me to my car, opening my door for me. I sped home fingering my clit. I rummaged through Sally's movies and picked out "Housewife or Whore." I turned on my finger vibrator for a long indulgent masturbation and watched an attractive red-head applying make-up at a vanity in a bedroom. She was beautiful, the vanity was beautiful, the bedroom was beautiful. There was the sound of a door opening and a man walked in. He was beautiful. As they undressed she asked him about his day at work. Then they made love, crazy passionate intense love. Jesus, why didn't someone fuck me like that.

The next morning he left for work; she looked bored. The phone rang, she wrote down an address, and she left to meet a man. He handed her an envelope with cash in it. They made love.

I thought of a game Kevin and I had played. He had spent a week at a Las Vegas convention and related how some of his fellow attendees had perused the local call girls. He said he wanted to role play the same thing with me. He had me contact a person in concierge's office to get permission to work the hotel in exchange for a fifty-fifty fee spilt. While I was having a drink in the lounge Kevin approached me and took me to his room where I sucked his dick. Before I left the room he gave me a generous tip and the concierge handed me $75.00 on my way out. Later Kevin said he had slipped the concierge several hundred dollars to play along. Had the experience been more real than Kevin had let on?

I went on-line and found blogs from women who reported that for the money and the thrill they occasionally worked as prostitutes at hotels in deals with the hotel staff. I sat back, trying to recall the name of the concierge and "code" I was supposed to use. Neither would come to me. I got into the shower and shaved my legs. The details filtered back into my memory.

I looked up the number of the Roosevelt Hotel and called. I asked for Fernando in the concierge's office.

He answered promptly.

"Fernando, you probably don't remember me, my name is...," I drew a blank, what was the name I had used? "Tiffany. About a year ago I came by looking for a job teaching aerobics, but you had no openings. You were very kind, you asked the bartender to pour me a drink. I was wondering if I could re-apply."

"We look like were full tonight, but you can come by. How about 6:00."

"I'll see you then."

I checked the hotel's web-site. It didn't offer aerobics.

I got out my hottest red dress. It was sleeveless. It fit my upper body snugly before opening up and falling just below my knees. Its most spectacular feature was large diamond shaped opening that displayed a generous view of my cleavage. I painted my shortish nails red, fixed my hair and make-up, put on black four inch stiletto heels, and headed for the city.

When I entered the hotel I was struck, as always, by its beauty. It had been built in 1893 with a level of craftsmanship unknown today. The ornate lobby featured fifty foot ceilings. At the front desk I was directed to concierge's office where I was met by a young man. I handed him a crisp $50.00 bill and asked for Fernando. I had recalled that Fernando did not entertain guests without an entrance fee. Happily, his rates had not gone up. The young man gave me a long appreciative look, disappeared for a few minutes, and returned to usher me into Fernando's "office," which was more cubby-hole than anything else. I looked around; I remembered the room. Fernando entered.

I sat on a proffered chair and crossed my legs. My dress rose above my knees. Fernando studied me. Finally he said, "I don't remember you. I think I would remember you."

"On my prior visit it was for one particular customer. I was not as enthusiastic. I wore a brown wig and did not doll myself up."

"Who was the customer?"

I thought for a second. I couldn't think of a reason not to disclose his identity. "Kevin, Kevin Jones."

Although he feigned indifference, Fernando clearly recognized the name. Had Kevin been more frequent purveyor of Fernando's services than he let on?

"I do not know him," and then changing subjects, "Do you have any restrictions on your services?"

"I have heard that some receiving private aerobics instruction expect the instructor to work with their entire body. I provide oral training only."

Fernando was non-plussed. "Very good. We have space for you tonight. Your customers will pay us. The charge will be the usual one hundred fifty," he stopped and scanned me again, "make that two hundred dollars per lesson. The house gets 60%. You keep your tips. Agreed."

I was confident that Fernando could tell I was a novice. I didn't know enough to know whether, or how much, I was getting ripped off. "Agreed."

He handed me a clipboard and what appeared to be a job application. "Please fill it out in the lounge upstairs. Bobby will pour you a drink."

I picked up the application and headed out the door. The Sazerac lounge was stunning. I took a seat at the bar. Bobby, a distinguished looking man of, I would guess, fifty, prepared a martini. I took a sip. Excellent. I looked at the application. Where it asked my name I wrote Tiffany Case.

Bobby returned a minute later, gesturing with his eyes to the right. I turned to see a thin man, maybe six feet tall, probably in his mid-fifties. He was nervous.

"I was told..." He wasn't sure how to go on.

I placed a hand on his shoulder guiding him to the stool next to mine. "That I teach aerobics. That is true. Tell me," I paused, waiting for him to provide his name. He stared back. I realized that the last thing a man would want to tell a whore was his name.

"No, no, let me guess. A man as sexy as you would be called," I took a second, "Alfredo. I will call you Alfredo."

He seemed relieved, but continued to just look at me. Like me, he was a novice; he didn't know how to proceed. I wasn't sure either, but I took my best shot.

"Alfredo, are you staying at the hotel?"

"Yes, I'm here on a convention."

"I hear the rooms are lovely but, you know, I've never seen one. Would you be a dear and show me yours?"

"Yes, yes, oh yes, very much, yes."

I turned to Bobby, who smiled at my mark's obvious enthusiasm. "See you soon darling."

We took an elevator to the fifth floor. I tried to keep the conversation light, but Alfredo, obviously feeling guilty, chatted about his wife and kids and how he'd never done anything like this before. I believed him.

We entered his room; it was lovely.

"I hear, they said, you use your mouth. My wife, she doesn't, she won't."

I walked up to him and placed my forearms on his shoulders, my breasts firmly pressed against his chest. I tousled his hair. "Well, Alfredo, I do, but not for everyone. I do it only for very special cocks." I started to undo his belt. "I can't wait to see yours."

I pushed him back on to the bed and pulled down his pants. His penis was about five inches long and strikingly thin. While my first instinct was disappointment, I liked them bigger than this, I realized this was the perfect cock for sucking. A woman could use her mouth on it and never worry about straining her jaw or nicking it with her teeth.

"Oh, Alfredro, you have a wonderful penis."

He smiled, relaxing under the influence of my enthusiasm. I took hold of his penis. Pre-cum was dripping out. This was one excited man. I kissed the tip and his sharp groan filled the room. He would not last long. I took hold of the base with my thumb and forefinger and, without letting it touch my lips, dropped my mouth over him until it bumped the back of my mouth. I clamped my lips on it and slowly dragged my head up while running my hand up the side of his body. Alfredo's thighs began shaking; he arched his back.

"Oooh, ooohhhhh, ooooohhhhhhh, yes, ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh." He came in my mouth.

A fifteen second blow job didn't seem like the greatest service in the world, but Alfredo's face glowed. "All my life I have dreamed of a beautiful woman using her mouth on me. It was wonderful." I listened for a few minutes as he praised me, then let him know I needed to get back downstairs. He handed me an envelope. "I am told it is customary to tip in these circumstances." As I took the elevator back down I peeked inside at a crisp $100.00 bill.

When I returned to the Sazerac, Bobby guided me to the employee's bathroom. I gargled, brushed my teeth, found an empty stool, and we resumed our conversation. He was a charming witty man and, I decided, probably a pretty good fuck. In less than ten minutes Bobby nodded his head to my left. There stood a somewhat overweight nattily dressed black man in his mid-forties.

"Madam, do you mind if I sit next to you."

"Not at all. Care to join me in a drink?"

"I would love to, but I am in something of a hurry. I have a dinner appointment with an important customer in ninety minutes and I need something to relieve the tension. I thought some exercise might help."

"Is your room large enough to accommodate us?"

"I believe it is."

I looked back at Bobby, who smiled, and then followed this new mark from the bar. I noted he wore a wedding ring and, oddly, it was only at that moment that the enormity of what I was doing struck me. I was a whore. I had never had sex with a married man or a black man or, for that matter, a total stranger. Now I was on my second in half-an-hour. I felt my sex swell. I liked it.

The elevator came to a stop. I followed my john to his room. He carefully removed his shoes, socks, pants, which he scrupulously hung up, and his underwear. And there it was. It would be another first, an uncircumcised penis. He sat in a chair and I knelt before him on the luxurious carpet. I peeled his foreskin back and was immediately struck by the strong fishy smell. There was a cheesy substance under the foreskin. I had always demanded my sexual partner be clean and well-scrubbed, but somehow I found this man's grittiness a turn-on. I guess a good whore takes her customers as she finds them. I used the tip of my tongue to capture his smegma and made a display of swallowing it.

"Your cock is mighty tasty, sir."

"Most of the girls don't," he stopped, realizing he was acknowledging that I was not the first woman paid to suck his dick, "seem to appreciate it."

I didn't answer except to open wide and take him into my mouth. I ran my tongue along the ridge where his foreskin attached to the penis, enjoying the warm musky taste. I popped him out of my mouth and licked the length of his shaft before taking the head back into my mouth, furiously using my lips and tongues on him.

He was getting excited, very excited. He was wheezing and groaning. He'd last longer than Alfredo, but not by much. He placed his hand on my head, but gently, not trying to force my mouth onto his cock or control my movements. I cradled his balls, rolling them with my fingers, and then felt them withdraw into his scrotum. He moaned once and came. I blocked the channel though which sperm flowed with my thumb, drawing out and intensifying his orgasm. I swallowed and stood. He remained in his chair, breathing heavily.

"Thank you very much young lady. It was delightful. You will find an envelope on the dresser my the door. It is for you. I hope you will forgive me for not showing you to the door, but at my age it takes several moments to recover."

I thanked him for his kindness and let myself out. I peeked inside the envelope on the way down. Another $100.00 bill. Was that the going rate?

Bobby once again ushered me to the employee's bathroom and I returned to the bar and a new martini. Over the next forty-five minutes I serviced two more gentlemen. Both these men, like the first two, seemed nervous and came quickly. One hundred dollars also seemed to be the standard tip. After the fourth I checked my watch; I had to make sure the final exams were ready to go tomorrow, but figured I had time for one more assignation. I was chatting with Bobby when he looked over my shoulder.

"You must give great head."

"I try. What's going on?"

"Mr. Yamaguchi just entered the room and is looking at you."

"And he is?"

"He is the Chief Executive Officer of Dot Commodity, one of Japan's largest commodity trading firms. He is a frequent guest of our hotel. In fact, our largest suite is on permanent lease to his company. He is, I am told, a connoisseur of blow-jobs. If Fernando has recommended you to him, Fernando is getting good reports on you."

So, I was a skilled whore. There was a warm feeling between my legs.

Bobby, still looking at the man behind me, reached under the counter and handed me a key.

"Go to the express elevator behind the concierge's desk. When the elevator arrives insert this key in the keyhole under the Suite A tag. He likes to be called Mr. Yamaguchi. Let me know how it goes."

I followed the instructions and the elevator opened up into a magnificent suite. Standing in

the living room was an impeccably dressed, handsome man. He held two flutes of champagne. He handed me one. We toasted, taking a sip. I am no expert on champagne, but this was best stuff I'd ever tasted. He started to disrobe, laying his clothes neatly on a table. I was not sure what the expectation was for me, but I figured what the hell, I'd been showing off the girls all night. I undid the button on my collar and the dress fell open, revealing my breasts. I removed my pushup bra. The hours I spent in they gym showed. They stood firm and round on the front of my chest; the nipples angled slightly upwards. My areolas were a rosy red; the nipples a deeper hue of the same color.

Mr. Yamaguchi's eyes took in my chest. "Your breasts are absolutely lovely. You must be proud." There was nothing salacious about his comment; he sounded like a man admiring a work of art. I blushed.

He noticed. "You're not a professional, then?"

"No."

"My name is Yamaguchi. I prize my anonymity."

Was this a veiled threat if I publicized his dalliances with whores? Of that he need not worry. I had my own secret life. "My name is Tiffany Case. So do I."

He smiled. It was a confident smile. It suddenly seemed important that I please this man.

He took off his shirt, revealing a flat hairless chest. Very nice.

"Please let me help you." I went to one knee and untied a shoe, before lifting his leg and removing it. I ran my hand along his well-developed muscular calf. I did the same with the other shoe. Still kneeling, I undid his belt and pulled it free. He was well-hung. After the men I'd serviced that night it would be nice to play with a full-sized cock. I unfastened his pants and pulled down the zipper, reaching inside to fondle what was indeed an impressive erection and a preternaturally large set of balls. Mr. Yamaguchi who, up to this time, had been nothing but an exemplar of propriety and good manners, moaned.

I pulled down his pants and underwear. He stepped out them. His cock was free, swinging from left to right. I kissed the tip and then planted a short sweet peck on his scrotum.

"Your penis, Mr. Yamaguchi, its lovely." His up-til-now inscrutable countenance cracked; a smile formed on his face. "Thank you." Prostitutes apparently sing the praises of every man's penis, regardless of size, cleanliness, or durability. Mr. Yamaguchi understood that this whore meant what she said.

Mr. Yamaguchi took my hand and led me, my exposed breasts swaying, to the suite's bedroom. It featured a massive four poster canopy bed. He lay down. I crawled onto the bed and took hold of his penis. I kissed the tip once before letting it roll against my face, immersing myself in its scent, warmth, hardness, letting my soft hair caress it. I pressed it against my breasts and then folded my breasts around it, enveloping it in the warmth of my firm flesh. When a drop of pre-cum emerged, I caught it with a finger tip and licked it off. Eager for more I ran my thumb along the underside of his penis, pushing a few more drops out of his shaft. For these I put on a bit of a show, taking a long slow lick across the crown. I kept me eyes on Mr. Yamaguchi's face, watching his sweet happy reaction.

I opened my mouth wide, laid my tongue against the roof of my mouth, and sank my face over his tool. It slid against the underside of my tongue. I repeatedly wiped my tongue over the head of his cock. I took my time, letting his cock luxuriate in the wet warmness of my mouth.

Mr. Yamaguchi half-moaned, half purred. "Hmmmmmmmm," and started gently pumping his erection in my mouth, his movements slow and precise.

As I kept running my tongue across the head of his cock I coddled his immense testicles. He jumped. He liked that! I pressed my lips hard around the shaft and pulled back until the head of his penis popped from my mouth. I tugged his ball sac forward and took a testicle in my mouth, sucking it with the gentlest of force. He gasped and sharply sucked in some air. His head dropped back to a pillow and he started murmuring something softly. I could not make out the words; it must have been Japanese.

I switched to the other testicle while scratching his perineum with a wet fingernail. His cock jumped.