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Monday morning I needed more tampons, I used quite a few every week to keep cum from a just done client from oozing out to stain my dresses when I sat, so I shopped at a local store before hailing a taxi for the ride uptown. I was headed for another hotel room to meet with a new client. A client who may or may not become my new regular to take the place of Tim. Marla had told me this client wanted me to dress sexy but classy. From the looks I got from men in the store as well as in the hotel I thought my yellow dress fit the bill.
Going to the hotel’s bar as directed, I waited to be approached. I didn’t know who I was meeting or what he looked like. I was just about to order a drink when a voice behind me said not to bother. Turning I found a nice looking man in his mid-thirties. Even in my heels, he overtopped me by an inch. In a tailored suit he didn’t seem the type to have any problems finding women. I wondered why he wanted a call girl.
“Viv? I was told to look for a stunning blonde in a yellow dress but you exceed my expectations.”
“Thank you, and what do I call you?”
“John. It really is my name,” he answered with a smile.
I followed John to our room. No, it wasn’t a room but a suite. Two bedrooms off a large living area with a small bar that also led to a balcony. I thought it a bit much for a two hour hook-up, but who was I to criticise how John spent his money. After all, he’d bought me.
Sitting at the bar while John made two of my requested favorite bourbon and coke, we made small talk. Handing me my drink and taking a sip of his, John asked, “How long can you stay?”
“Two hours…”
“No,” John interrupted me. “No, that’s how long you have to stay. How long can you stay?”
I thought, and if…, “Four hours. If my dress isn’t stained with cum.”
“Good, consider your next four hours paid for. I think I can refrain from staining your beautiful dress.”
Two hours of double my usual rate would make a nice addition to my bank account and John didn’t seem the type to be stingy about a tip. John refreshed our drinks and we sat next to each other on the bar stools and chatted about things. We finished our drink and after I’d set my empty glass down, John leaned in to kiss me. I pulled back slightly and asked if I should wipe off my lipstick. “I’ll get lipstick all over you if I don’t.”
“I hope you do,” John laughed and put his hand on my tit. Squeezing through the thin material of my dress and the thinner material of my lace bra, he seemed pleased. “I was told your breasts were natural. I’m glad I was told the truth,” he said and squeezed harder. Then, between one breath and the next, the pleasant feeling of my tit being felt and molded changed to pain as my tit was gripped by strong fingers being dug into my soft flesh.
Yelling, Stop that! That’s too hard…, I tried to move away from the hand that continued to maul my tit. Moving with me, I was still sitting on the bar stool as John pinned me against the bar and his legs. Suddenly standing me up, he crushed me against his chest with two hands now squeezing and mauling my tits through my dress. Still verbally protesting, I tried to push his hands away from their tight grip on my tits but he was too strong, his grip too tight.
He held me to him with one arm while his hand… I could only think he was trying to milk my breast. Gripping it tightly at the base and moving up and out until he was pinching my nipple until it ached before repeating the movement over and over. First one tit would be ‘milked’ and then the other as his other hand went low between my legs to pull up the hem of my gown.
Pushing under my dress, he slid his hand up my thighs to where my thin, silk thong offered a vain attempt to protect my pussy. Pushing the slick material aside, his fingers thrust up into me as hard and ruthless as his hand continued to treat my tits.
I hadn’t the chance to use any lubricant and I was barely moist as two long fingers assaulted my opening and began fucking me. Throughout all of this I tried to protest but I was out of breath from what he was doing to me and my protests were delivered weakly in gasps of Oh, God… Stop. Please, please stop… I tried to pivot in his grasp and escape but my movements, first one way and then another, only succeeded in rubbing my ass cheeks against a hard and what felt like a very large cock. My begging to not be treated so roughly and my squirming to escape seemed to only excite John more.
John continued to maul my tits until I didn’t think the pain could get any worse. All the while vibrating his hand and his fingers on and in my pussy so fast and hard my entire body was shaking. I lost my balance in my high heeled shoes and I would have slipped to the floor except I was held up by the hand between my legs. My weight pressed John’s hand harder against my pussy lips and clit until I regained my balance. Damn, it felt like he was trying to crush my tits and my pussy.
“Listen to that and stop begging. Quiet,” John commanded with a harder shake between my legs. Moving his hand and fingers, I could hear the wet sounds coming from beneath my dress. “That’s right, whore! You’re wet… You’re loving this… You’re a fucking bitch in heat!”
Pulling his fingers away from my pussy he brought them up to where we could both see they were shiney with my juice. Opening and closing his fingers we could see thick strands of my grool being stretched between them before he forced his fingers in my mouth. 
Pushing deep enough to cause me to gag, he told me to suck his fingers clean. With his fingers still gagging me, he bent me forward to let the collected spit in my mouth fall to the carpet.
“See? Not a drop on that pretty dress,” John gloated and then pushed me a short distance away with a command to remove my dress. I stood there, gauging my chances to reach the door. I barely saw his arm move before he delivered a quick and painful slap to my left tit. Painful enough to leave me doubled over holding my throbbing breast.
I was till trying to process what had happened. I hadn’t been hit in ages. I certainly hadn’t been hit this hard in my boob since seventh grade when, during a softball game, the ball had taken an unexpected bounce and had slammed into one of my still developing boobs. I know the softball had caused more pain than this but John’s next words chilled me to the bone. Threatening to hit my boob again if I didn’t remove my dress, but this time with a fist.
Wearing heels I knew I had no chance of reaching the door. I removed my dress. I’d look for a better chance. John next ordered me to remove my half-bra but leave my thong on. I tossed my bra on my dress as he explained, “I promised not to get cum on your dress but when you go to see your next man, you’ll do it with your thong soaked with my cum.
“I own you for the next four hours. Now, undress me.”
*********************
An hour later I was stretched out across one of the hotel suite’s bed. I felt as if I’d been beaten from my tits to my thighs. I guess that’s exactly what had happened. John seemed not to know the meaning of a gentle touch. His hands had continued to be hard and demanding on my tits and between my legs. 
Even while fucking me his hands would crush my tits at times or connect in stinging slaps to the side of one of my breasts. I didn’t know what had hurt worse on my swollen breasts. His crushing grip, the twisting pinches to my nipples or the slaps he delivered if I didn’t move quickly enough in response to an order. I’d raised my head and looked after John had left the room. 
My pussy lips and clit were red and felt just as swollen from his harsh fingering as my tits. They hadn’t been this red or tender since the time I’d let a client use a pussy pump.
But it was deeper, between my tits and still throbbing clit where I felt like I’d been beaten with a baseball bat. In a sense I had. Undressing John I’d discovered a monster of a cock. He had the largest cock I’d ever seen not in a porno movie. Danny has a very nice nine inch cock but John’s overtopped that by at least three inches. John also didn’t know the meaning of a gentle touch when it came to his huge cock. 
As John forced that monster up my cunt the first time I thought I was being split in two. I was wet from the fingers forced up my pussy. I was glad of that now even as the enormous cock squeezed that juice from my pussy to roll down my ass crack. John reached what I would have thought was the deepest I could take a cock. With hard, forceful thrusts he proved me wrong as I grunted and asked him to stop. One and then two more inches stretched and filled my cunt as I lay gasping from the feeling in my gut. Once fully inside me, his only words had been to gloat, “I knew a tall whore would be able to take all of me, but you took me easier than most.” Those were his only words before starting to stretch and fuck the deepest parts of my cunt as hard and as fast as his fingers had abused my pussy.
Marla had told me my new client had chosen me specifically after she’d descibed me. Now I knew why. I felt sorry for the other whores if he’d fucked them as hard and ruthlessly as he’d fucked me. I pushed my hand between the sheet and my stomach and massaged as deep as I could. I groaned, wondering if my muscles and pussy walls would ever resume their normal shape.
Returning to the bedroom with two drinks, John handed me one and sat on the bed. Delivering a hard, stinging slap to my ass he chuckled, “Viv, you are a wonder. I’ve never enjoyed sex so much with a whore before. My wife can’t take all of me and it’s pretty boring with her. I wouldn’t fuck her again except she wants another baby. Most of the whores I’ve fucked can’t take me either. But you took me like a real whore. I was even almost convinced you came.”
It hadn’t been an act. I had come. Hard and long! Once my pussy had stretched to accomodate his huge cock, it had been some of the best sex I’d ever had! I couldn’t help myself from responding to the hard, fast strokes between my legs. I didn’t know whether to be proud I’d taken all of him or ashamed I’d responded to his harsh treatment and fucking like the bitch whore in heat that he’d called me.
Turning to sit up, I sipped my drink and then gulped it down. Maybe alcohol would deaden the feelings from my abused flesh.
“Marla, also told me that you have the rare ability to suck a cock into your throat with out choking. John took my empty drink glass from me and put it on the bedside table. “Let’s see if you can do that with me.”
I looked at his very long cock and shook my head dubiously. “The largest cock I’ve throated is my…” I stopped, not wanting to name Danny in any way while I was with another man.
“My…? You’re boyfriend’s cock? A husband, perhaps? My, whoever he is, he’s a lucky man to have someone like you as a girlfriend or wife. But, for now, let’s see how good a cocksucker you are, shall we? I’ve place your tip on the bar already. You throat me and I’ll double it,” John promised as his hand grabbed the hair on the back of my head and forced my mouth to his cock. 
********************
I was ready to leave. God, I was so ready… For hours John had demonstrated that the only thing larger than his cock was his sexual appetite. Only minutes passed between sex before I was either sucking that enormous cock or it was being forced up my cunt again. Afterwards, the little triangle of the thong John hadn’t let me remove barely covered the gape of my pussy as more cum poured out to soak the already cummy material.
John’s hands hadn’t grown any softer on my breasts or pussy lips. I’d scream during our sex when he’d crush one or both in his powerful hands. 
In the middle of our fucking he’d pull out and finger fuck me with two and even three fingers while I tried to crawl away from the painful fingering. Many times he’d picked me up bodily from the bed using just the grip on my pussy until only my shoulders were still in contact with the bed, then shake me until tears would well up in my eyes and my hands would wrap around his wrist trying to push his hand from between my legs. 
His fingers inside me didn’t search for my G-Spot, they mutilated it! When John did release me, I’d lie exhausted on the bed, breathing hard as his cock began to force its way inside me again.
My dress was on and I picked up my handbag to put my bra inside it. No way were my swollen breasts going to fit in my bra cups comfortably just now. I was walking to the door when John ordered me to the bar. Handing me a last drink, he pointed to the stack of bills on the counter. “That’s the tip I promised you and this,” he said as he reached into his billfold for more money and added it to the stack. To my experienced eye there appeared to be several thousand dollars on the bar counter. “That will double it like I promised. Viv, you’re the best damned cocksucking whore I’ve ever met. The only whore who ever throated me. Beautiful, with a body that doesn’t quit, and a talented cocksucker… If whores ever establish a Hall of Fame you should be in it!”
I picked up the money and put it in my purse without speaking or counting it. I was walking to the door again when John again called out and caused me to pause, “Viv, Marla told me that you have every other Monday free. I want to be your regular client but I’m told that it depends upon your acceptence. Shall I add you to my calendar?”
I thought of the pain and the humiliation of being treated so harshly. I could hear him telling me, in the midst of our fucking, Take it, Whore! Yeah, you like it hard don’t you, Bitch! I could feel my swollen breasts and pussy lips still throb in time to my heartbeat. Then I thought of how eagerly I’d spread my legs our last time together. How hard I’d come… I was ashamed to admit that he’d made me feel things that I hadn’t felt in a very long time except in a room filled with horny men at a gangbang party. Had made me admit that nothing that happened was in my control. Had made me surrender to anything he’d wanted to do. The throbbing in my clit wasn’t just because he’d abused it… With hard and demanding hands and cock, John had mastered me.
Blushing, partly in shame as I remembered how eagerly I’d begun to not just respond to his demands but to anticipate them, I nodded…
Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
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