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Archive name: hooker1.txt (mf,ff,prost,voy,oral,etc) Authors name: Story title :
(c) Copyright November 1998 by J BOSWELL, all rights, except those explicitly detailed below, ARE RESERVED BY THE AUTHOR.Electronic distribution (as a text file on an "adults only"site) is permitted without alteration, but inclusion in any type of "publication" offered for sale (eg., book,magazine, CD-ROM, etc.), or "subscription/membership" sites requires the author's explicit permission.
By J BOSWELL (J.BOSWELL@usa.net)

WARNING: This work of fiction is intended to be read by adults only. The author has uploaded it only to "Adults, only" sites, and requests that you exercise the same discretion. Also, this is fiction -- in real life, please protect your lover and yourself by practicing safe sex. (Many thanks for the comments and suggestions from Tina, a real professional.)

WEDNESDAY, JUNE 19, 1996 Wednesday night. Class was over, dinner was done. The only thing left to do was lie on the bed and surf through the channels until I felt tired enough to fall asleep. Another boring night in my hotel room. I loved my job, but, God, I hated these trips.I was a year, maybe two, from partnership, handling administrative and training projects, and some PR, for a major chain of restaurants. It was a great job. But three or four times a year, when we opened a new restaurant, I had to go out to the site for two weeks, training managers, assistant managers, accountants, chefs, waiters and waitresses, hostesses and all the other employees. I taught the company policy, procedures and requirements -- a "PPR" trip. I had flown in on Sunday and would be here for another week and a half.I wasn't opposed to going out and having a little fun, but the subject matter for the first week was the more strenuous and structured, and I preferred holding the fun off to the second week. Besides, I was happily married and "partying" consisted of just having a few drinks with some of the new (and anxious) employees, but it beat sitting alone in a hotel room, channel-surfing. Oh, there was always any number of "sweet young things" among my students, but I was no Tom Cruise, and none of the young women ever appealed to me the way my wife did. Besides, what kind of example would I be setting -- I taught the sexual harassment awareness course!My wife, Laura... Now that was a nice thought. I let my mind drift...Happily married almost thirteen years and the passion between us was still so strong.My wife and I had made sweet love most of Sunday, until it was time for me to go to the airport. The kids were at Granma's for the weekend and I woke up Sunday morning with Laura curled in my arm, her long blond hair splashed across my chest. She smelled so good. I turned enough to bring my other hand around and I cupped her warm breast -- the skin was taut and the nipple began to wrinkle and harden. Without saying a word, Laura's hand found its way to my hardening cock and began stroking it slowly. I was rock-hard in seconds. I nibbled on her ear and brought my other hand down to her thick patch of curly light-brown pussy hair, caressing her clit with my finger. Laura let out a long, low moan. She gripped my cock a little tighter and--- KNOCK! KNOCK! KNOCK!I was shocked out of my sexy reverie! Someone was at the door and I had no idea who it could be. Maybe it was housekeeping to deliver the mint for my pillow.I was a little embarrassed with the tent in my pants, so I stood behind the door and put my face at the opening."Yes?" Expecting a maid, the woman standing at my door was anything but. "What are you doing here?""Hi, I'm Tiffany.""Tiffany" was one hot looking woman. She was short -- couldn't have been over 5'3" but was well-rounded. I don't mean fat -- she had all her curves where they belonged -- large, round breasts, nice hips and breathtaking legs. She was wearing black highheels and a shiny black dress that buttoned from the neck to the hem, with more than a button or two open on both ends. The neckline was open enough to reveal a generous show of creamy, white cleavage, and the hem was just high enough to show an interesting amount of thigh. She was very cute -- not beautiful, but very, very cute. Her short hair was that popular artificial color that's not quite red, brown or maroon, and softly spiked Her lipstick and lightly-applied eyeshadow matched the hair. All and all, quite an attractive -- and very sexy -- young lady.I must have been standing there with my dumb look on as I studied her.She tilted her head to the side, slightly (and charmingly). "Tiffany? From the TipTop Escort Service?" "Yes? And you want me?"She smiled a bright white smile -- beautiful white teeth framed by that dark lipstick on her sexy, full lips. "I thought *YOU* wanted *ME*! Didn't you call the service?"My brain wasn't working and I was having no trouble maintaining my blank look.She tried again, very slow and gentle. "You're not Steve, are you?"I knew the answer to that one. "No. Mike.""This is room 332, right?"Another one I knew! "Uh, yeah, 332." I was on a roll. Tiffany had a little puzzled expression on her pretty face. "Can I use your phone for a sec?" she asked.I opened the door and pointed to the phone. If she had asked me to pay for the pleasure of watching her walk to the phone, I would have. She dialed a number and talked for a few minutes. As she stood there, I had to again admire the way she was put together -- she had an exquisite body. All the better when I looked at her face and saw that she may not have been as young as she first appeared. I had no idea about "escorts" but from TV drama shows I assumed they were mostly poor college girls or bored housewives, and from the "reality" shows, they looked like skanky old whores. Tiffany looked like she was definitely out of school and not bored and she was as far as you could get from skanky. She was a sexy, attractive, desirable woman.She hung up, looked at me and said, "Idiot!""Problem?""Yeah, sorry for the trouble. It's room 323. Thanks for letting me use the phone.""Sure." She walked that walk to the door and was just about to close it when my mouth began talking without any input from my brain. "Ah, Tiffany?""Yeah?" She stopped and turned around. She had a hand on her hip and her hip cocked to the side. She had this wry kind of smile on her painted lips. Her dress was open at her legs and her chest was sticking out. God, she was hot!My mouth kept on going. "Ah, um, you said escort service?" She smiled again.I knew I was out of my league and I began to feel like a canary at a cat convention."Yeah, I work for an escort service.""Does that mean you, ah..." I was quite the cool dude."That's what it means, babe. You ain't a cop, are you?" I shook my head. "I didn't think so. What would be the odds of me coming to the wrong room and there being a cop there? So, anyways, you interested in a little party, Mike?"Was I? Married almost thirteen years, I had never "partied" with anyone. Was I ready to step over the line after all those years, because this sexy, little prostitute happened to hit all my "turn-on" buttons at once?"Mike? You want to party? It's as easy as 1-2-3. A super massage is a hundred. Great french is two, and anything you want is three an hour. Two and three are with condom, only. Tips are graciously accepted. What do you say? I gotta be down the hall soon -- Steve's waiting -- so you'll have to decide quick.""Okay." Did I really say that? Was I going through with it? I guess I was. I knew I had less than two hundred in my wallet, so my choice was easy. "I'll take the massage.""Good choice, Mike. Gimme the hundred and then strip off your clothes and lay on the bed. You won't be sorry."I counted out four twenties and two tens, then I stripped off my undershirt, socks, slacks and boxers as Tiffany watched. I was embarrassed undressing in front of a woman who was holding my cash in her hand, but, at the same time, I was kind of proud of my erection -- I couldn't remember being harder than I was at that moment.Once on the bed, Tiffany sat down beside me and gently wrapped her fingers around my hard dick. Her dark nail polish made the sight even that much more sexy."Ooo... I see you're all nice and hard for me, already!""Um... are you staying dressed?" I asked her."Well, maybe I can open a few more buttons, or, for another twenty, I'll take the dress off.""I'll pay." And I was glad I did. She stood and opened the rest of the buttons and took the dress off. She stood there in her heels, thigh-high stockings with a dark band at the top, a small, lacy pair of black panties, and a matching bra, with her boobs bursting out of the top. It was a vision I would have in my head in my dying moment.She knelt on the bed, with her hand on my cock and her cleavage towards my face. She was cooing in her low, deep voice, talking dirty. I loved it."Ohh... You have such a nice cock, Mike. It's so hard and hot. Umm... So smooth and thick. Did I make it like this? Do you like looking at my big tits, Mike? Do you like what my hand is doing?"I could only moan.I knew I wasn't going to last long. Tiffany stopped jerking me off and reached behind her on the bed. She looked like she was ripping open a little squeeze pack of ketchup -- like you get at a carry-out -- but it wasn't ketchup, it was K-Y. She squeezed the contents into the palm of her hand and then she wrapped that hand around my cock. I almost screamed with the pleasure. I was quickly building up to a major orgasm, and her warm, lubricated hand had me there in seconds."Oh, yeah, baby. Come for Tiffany. Tiffany loves to see your cum shooting out of your pretty cock..." on and on she talked, until I melted into the bed.She got off the bed and went into the bathroom. I heard her wash in the sink and then she brought a fresh towel and cleaned me up. Had I been a little younger, I would have had another erection as I watched her breasts jiggle as she bent over me.I managed to sit up as she dressed. I reached my wallet and pulled out two more tens. "For your dress. It was worth it.""I aim to please, Mike.""You do. Where are you going?""I told you. I have a client waiting for me, down the hall.""You really do?"She smiled and nodded, "I really do.""But that was over so fast!"She laughed out loud. "What am I supposed to do about that?""Um... Nothing, I guess. I just really enjoyed it and... I donno... Maybe I could call the escort service?""Sure, but how long will you be in town?""Ten more days, why?""'Cause I'll be freelancing this hotel on my own for a couple of weeks. Tomorrow, a convention for doctors starts and runs through the weekend. And next week will be engineers from all over the country. So I'll be around. Look for me in the lounge -- that's where I'll be when I'm not busy. And, here, it's my number, in case of emergency.""Oh," I knew what she meant by 'busy,' and it kind of took me aback for a moment. "Really? You'll be working the hotel's lounge?""That's right. Can you think of a reason not to?""Well... No, I guess not.""Well, I'm off to poor Steve in room 323. I sure hope he wasn't in a hurry!""Wait." I took my last ten and my last three fives and handed them to her. "You deserve a tip.""Thanks, sweetie." She pocketed the money and gave me a little wave over her shoulder as she walked out the door. I opened the door and watched her walk down the long hall and wished I had more cash on me.
When Tiffany left, I collapsed on the bed and slept until the alarm woke me. I thought I'd be up all night, unable to sleep, thinking about what I had just done <'had I really paid for sex?'>, but I fell asleep immediately.

THURSDAY, JUNE 20, 1996
Thinking about Tiffany stroking me and then casually running off to "service" another client, I stroked myself to orgasm in the shower in the morning. All day, I had fleeting thoughts of Tiffany on the bed, her tits swaying, cooing her sexy talk and stroking me off. To say I was distracted was an understatement.Of course, I was blocking out the other side of this whole Tiffany business -- its possible affect on my marriage.During one of my breaks in class, I ran to a bank and got a five hundred dollar advance on my travel money and another three hundred from my own account. I wasn't going to be caught cash-short, again. Damn the consequences, I wanted this woman again!That evening, back at the hotel, I grabbed a burger at the short-order cafe, showered, changed into my best suit, and took the elevator back down to the lounge.The lounge was small but it was "happy hour" and the place was packed. The bar and the tables were full. I didn't see Tiffany anywhere. Maybe I was too early.I got a drink by squeezing between two guys at the bar and found a spot against a wall and watched the room. The doctors were in town. The ages ranged from ancient to looking too young to be in med school. There were men in suits, but even more in polos and khakis. There was just a sprinkling of women throughout the room, and none of them was alone. The snatches of conversation I heard were more often about the stock market and golf than medicine.I finished that drink and fought for another. I was getting nervous that I wouldn't see Tiffany while I still had the nerve to approach her.I could understand why she was "freelancing the hotel." It was full of men with money. I began to wonder how much money she would make during the week; and, then, my mind moved to how she would earn that money. How many hand-jobs, blow-jobs, fucks? How many men? And, why did I want to be one of them so badly?
Happy hour ended and dinner time arrived. The lounge began emptying out. I took a seat at a small table and indulged in one of my favorite hobbies -- people watching. I began wondering if all the women were doctors or wives, or were some of them hookers like Tiffany? Almost all of them were attractive and well-dressed, obviously enjoying all the attention the men with them were showing them. Occasionally, the whole table would rise and leave the lounge, headed for dinner (or a gangbang? my mind inquired).By nine o'clock I had had my fill of scotch and my fill of listening to the red-faced, bull-necked doctor sitting at the bar. He was loud and very much in love with himself, repeatedly telling his two companions that he was a genius in the operating room and a better golfer than the club pro; how he made better stock choices than his broker, and how he's nailed every nurse in two hospitals. What an ass.Tired, a little buzzed, and a lot disappointed, I was just about to stand to leave."Ah... There she is." It was the braggart and he was looking at the entrance.Tiffany stood there in an emerald green dress that didn't just hug every curve, but made love to every curve of her body. Her make-up was more subdued than the night before. She was in lower heels and nude stockings. She exuded a professional air, but was still so sexy, you know she couldn't hold a job too long without the boss begging to fuck her.The asshole raised his voice, even louder, "Tiffany."Tiffany saw him, smiled and gave him a little wave as she walked towards him. "You're late," said the asshole, as Tiffany walked up to him."You said nine o'clock.""It's nine-fifteen."Tiffany batted her eyelids and let her hand stroke his arm from the elbow up. "Gosh, I didn't know you meant boy-time. I'm on girl-time. I better adjust my watch. How will I ever be able to make that up to you?"Even the asshole was charmed, "Eh, ha ha... I'll think of something."Tiffany smiled a brilliant smile at him, "Hmm... I bet you will!"The asshole put his arm around Tiffany's waist. I didn't miss his hand dropping down to squeeze her ass cheek. "Well, gentlemen, it looks like I have some important business to take care of, so, until tomorrow..."The asshole and Tiffany turned towards the door. I got up and stepped past a couple of tables; and, as they passed me, I smiled at Tiffany and said, "Uh, hi, Tiffany."She gave me a smile and a brief glance, "Hello." And she and the asshole were by me. His hand now rested on Tiffany's ass, obviously squeezing it as they walked to the elevators. She was leaning against him and I heard her laugh. She was going to fuck that asshole!God, she was such a slut!What was I saying, she was a whore! Did I think she acted like Mother Teresa when she wasn't in my bed? What a rube I was!
I had a fitful night of sleep. The night before, I had acted like some hormone-crazed teenager when I got back to my room, jerking-off into the sheets.

FRIDAY, JUNE 21, 1996
That last glimpse of Tiffany leaning close to the asshole as he grabbed his hand full of her ass... It was enough to get me hot in the morning, and I jerked-off in the shower, again.I went through the rest of the day by rote. I knew my teacher evaluation marks were going down the drain, but I didn't care. I let the class out early, it being Friday afternoon, and I rushed back to the hotel.I showered and dressed in record time. I walked into the lounge before happy hour -- it was empty. She wasn't there. The bartender came out of a door behind the bar and asked for my order. Before I was half finished, Tiffany stepped out of the women's room and walked to the bar. My throat tightened. She was so pretty and so sexy.She was wearing a blue pin-striped suit with a white silk blouse, low, dark heels, white hose, subtle make-up, and a string of pearls. The bartender brought her a drink without her asking for it. She looked at me across the bar and smiled.I almost spilled the scotch out of a half-empty glass as I rushed around the bar to sit next to her. "Hi, Tiffany.""Hello, how are you?""Good. I... ugh... I was hoping I'd see you, again.""Again?"Shit! She didn't even remember what we had done! How many dicks were there after mine? What was I doing? Why didn't I drain my scotch and walk away?"It's not important, but, yes, we have, ah... met."She looked so innocent as she pursed her full lips and said "Ohh, I remember -- room 332. I like repeat clients.""Just so you know I know. So, like we won't have to figure out who everybody is. You know?" I sounded like the village idiot's dumb brother.Tiffany smiled and nodded. Her hand reached out and patted mine, "Relax, ah..?""Michael.""Sure... Mike. I knew that. Well, relax, Mike, I'm not gonna bite you... unless you want me to."I smiled. I was calming down. Yeah, right -- I wanted to fuck her right there on top of the bar!If they had replaced my blood with freon, I could not have acted cool at that moment. "Ah, Tiffany? I'd like to see you, again -- now, as a matter of fact.""Okay, Mike." She chuckled softly as she took my hand, "I can see where you might be in need of some relief."I threw more than enough money on the bar for the two drinks and we walked to the elevators. The ride up was slower and the corridor to my room was longer than I remembered. Finally we were there.Inside the room, I handed Tiffany three mint-crisp hundreds. "Anything I want, right?"She smiled and slipped the money into her small purse. "Well, maybe not 'ANYthing.' We may have to negotiate on some things."I was already taking my shirt off. "Like what?"She had kicked off her shoes and was hanging her jacket in the closet. Her white blouse had a demur, high-necked front but was open down the sides and in the back. The profile of her large, bra-less tits was obvious."Well, I'm not all that fond of watersports -- they're extra. Same with spanking or getting a little rough. It's okay to play tie-up for the regular price, though."I unzipped my trousers. "You do all those things?""Everything has a price."She stepped out of her skirt and placed it carefully on a chair. She was wearing her half-a-blouse, white lace panties, a matching garterbelt and white stockings. I could have shot my load just looking at her and talking to her. I have never seen a sexier woman in my life!I dropped my underwear.She stood there with her hands on her hips. "How much more do you want me to take off? A lot of guys like the heels, stockings and garterbelt look."That was easy to answer. "I want you as naked as the day you were born!"She laughed a good, loud laugh. She undid the blouse and let it fall. Her tits were magnificent -- high, firm and round! As she bent over to unhook the garters and lower her garterbelt and panties, her tits hung down and jiggled with her movement. I had to grab my dick and pinch it closed."Forget the stockings -- leave them on!"She laughed again. Then she did a sexy pose for me. She was a fantastic tease. She moved her shoulders as she walked toward me and her breasts jiggled. On her right tit she had a red and black rose tatooed a fraction of an inch above the areola. When she dropped her panties I could see that her pussy was completely shaved and I was amazed to see that she had a matching tatoo there, too, just above and to the right of her pussylips.It was a night of firsts for me. Other than videos, I had never seen a woman with a shaved-naked snatch and never saw one tatooed where she was tatooed and it only added to my sensory overload. I was afraid I was going to shoot before she even touched me and I'd get nothing for my three hundred.She knelt between my legs and wrapped that sexy mouth around my cock."I thought you said condom, Tiffany."She looked up, but continued to stroke my hardness. "Let's just say that my intuition says you don't do this a lot. I don't think I'm going too far out on a limb to say you're safe. Are you safe, Mike? Do you fuck around a lot on your wife?" And she lowered her mouth around me, again."I've never cheated on my wife, Tiffany. I swear. Thirteen years. I never cheated on Laura. Ohh! Ohh! Ohhhhhhhhh! Ahhhhh!"Her hand and mouth milked my cock until I was dry. She didn't lose a drop.She climbed up on the bed beside me. "Okay, now with that out of the way, maybe we can enjoy your three hundred."And we did.

Tiffany removed the condom and tied the top off."Why did we use a condom to do this, but not before?""Because it makes my clean-up so much simpler. Unfortunately, the hour's up. I have to get back to work!""Tiffany, what would it cost to have you spend the night?"She rolled close and gently kissed my chin. "It's a convention weekend, Mike. More than you have.""Yeah, I guess. Don't you take a break? Need a rest?"She laughed a warm, throaty laugh. "Are you worried about me, Mike? Afraid I'll wear my pussy out?""You could do a lot of other things, Tiffany. You're beautiful and smart and charming. Why are you doing this?""Whoa, Mike! You're getting the dreaded, and all too common 'John's disease.' You want to make an honest woman out of me. Been there, done that. I like what I'm doing, for right now. I'll work this hotel for a while and then I'll take a well deserved rest. But there's money to be made between now and then. That's why I better get dressed."I felt like a fool, but I couldn't stop talking, and I couldn't take the pathetic whine out of my voice. "You like fucking assholes?""You play with the cards dealt, Mike. I'm an equal opportunity hooker. Anyone in particular that you characterize as an 'asshole?'""That guy last night.""Which one?""Oh, shit!"She chuckled. "I'm teasing you. Of course I know which one was the asshole. For him, I adjusted my prices up. He wasn't so terrific -- except he was a pretty good pussy-eater! -- but he paid me an outrageous amount in cash. Of course, what he was really paying me for was hearing a pro, who's been with hundreds of men, tell him that he's the best she ever had. Now, I have to get dressed, happy hour will be over before I get there.""Did you tell him he was the best?""Of course!""Did you mean it?""Mike, I'm a hooker. Lying is in the job description."She used the bathroom to freshen up and then dressed. I was sorry to see that tight little, bald pussy and those wonderful tits disappear behind her clothes. As she was leaving, I handed her another hundred."Thanks, Mike. You're very generous.""You're worth it. I don't trust myself to go near my checkbook until you're out of the room."She smiled and stood on her tiptoes and gave me a soft, dry kiss on my lips. "Bye, Mike. You're sweet."Did I feel guilty? I guess I did. What would it do to Laura if she ever found out that during the last hour, I just had the hottest sex in my life?

After Tiffany left, I showered and dressed as quickly as I could. She was at the bar, talking to an older man when I got there. I took a seat nearby and watched them. I realized that I was beginning to obsess on this woman -- a hooker! God help me!She was so damned pretty. She talked and laughed, and I could tell she was making the guy think he was the only man in the room. They took their drinks to a dark booth and sat close together. There was some kissing and a lot of shoulder and arm rubbing going on. At one point, the guy pulled his head away and listened to something Tiffany was saying. When she stopped talking, the man was still for a moment and then nodded. My guess was that she had just explained that his charm alone wasn't going to get her into bed. Sure enough, they finished their drinks and made their way out of the lounge and toward the elevator.My stomach did a little flip as I watched the elevator doors close on the happy couple. She was a 'working girl,' and I was just another roll in the sheets, but I was jealous of the men with her. I had a lovely, loving wife, who was the mother of our children and a respected high school English teacher, and I was getting jealous of the men a whore in a hotel lounge was fucking. How's that for weird?Another scotch settled my stomach, and another soothed my brain. People were in and out in the lounge. It was Friday night and everybody looked happy. The D-J was keeping the music pretty mellow and low enough not to discourage talking. I had another scotch.A little after ten, Tiffany walked into the lounge. She had spent well over an hour with me and two hours with her last 'client,' and she looked as fresh and as sexy as ever. She sat at the bar and the bartender brought her a drink and said a few words to her. She nodded and the bartender jerked his head in the direction of a small man, sitting alone at the end of the bar. Tiffany nodded again and the bartender walked over to the sad-looking guy and said a few words to him. The guy looked at Tiffany and nodded enthusiastically. Within minutes, Tiffany and the guy were going up in the elevator.Fuming to myself, I went up to my room and crawled into bed.