For these people I'm making an exception to my rule about not doing outcalls on the first appointment. They live in a fancy neighborhood far out of the city. Not fancy enough to look over the ocean, but fancy enough for spaced out cookie cutter mansions. Thankfully they don't have lawns. We are still in Alaska, even if the joke about this place is that it's not Alaska, but you can get there in an hour.
Lucy emailed me a couple months ago, a long email that went on like water explaining how after ten years of marriage her and her wonderful husband had begun exploring sexually and she'd always wanted to be with a woman but she wasn't sure how she'd react, and would it be okay if she smoked pot because she gets really nervous, and her husband is kind of fat but he's a very good man and takes such good care of her and her son and she loves him. They'd been watching porn and smoking pot and reading books and gaining communication skills and now they wanted to try an encounter with another woman. But it had to be real! They couldn't be with someone who would fake it! And they must smoke pot or they would be nervous!
At first her emails were sweet and I was excited to be part of their sexual education and exploration. I'd been thinking about posting a casual encounter ad for a couple when I got their email, and that made it even better. Get paid to explore your fantasies! My life is the best! But then her emails started to wear on. She had questions upon questions, and had to describe the details of every sexumentory she saw, like a phone sex customer who tries to get off emailing about what they want instead of calling.
Now, after all these emails, I'm finally pulling into their driveway. Tom is waiting outside for me, waving. Of course. Inside there's an envelope with my name on it right on the bench where you sit to take your shoes off. I shove it in my pocket and hang my coat in the closet. The closet is full of coats. If I had a closet that size it would be an eighth of the space in my cabin, I think, and an eighth of my possessions would be coats.
I join Lucy on the couch. Lucy is cute. Cute like apple pie, long permed hair, a dutifully toned body and cheerful smile. She says she's nervous.
We drink wine and they smoke and they ask what they are supposed to do because they don't understand, should they go away so I can count the money? “Oh, I was just going to trust you,” I say. “But I can use your restroom and check it?” I have this philosophy that it turns guys off when I count the money, and so I don't. I smile at them and tuck it into a drawer as if I trust them completely and am too classy to double check. Really it's not that I trust them, but that I take a longer view. If they short me I can just not see them again, but if I offend them it's not like I can get them back, and each guy is potentially $500 every month. So I go to their bathroom and I count the money. Five crisp hundred dollar bills and two fifties.
When I come out of the bathroom I'm naked and I curl up closer to Lucy. She is so nervous, and I don't want to scare her but I do feel a sort of responsibility to get things going. She tells me again that sometimes Tom's dick goes soft and we just ignore it, it's just a thing that happens, we definitely don't call attention to it. Then Tom says again that they want me to understand there are no goals for the evening. Nobody has to cum, and if we don't do anything it's okay. Then she tells me again that it's really the marijuana that's opened her up to her sexuality... “but sometimes it makes me paranoid,” she explains and I want to laugh so much but I don't. I tell her she has nothing to be paranoid about and she's ten times hotter than me. Then he tells me again that there are no goals and she tells me again that we just ignore it if his dick goes soft.
Finally I suggest that we climb in their bed and snuggle and watch the porn channel and see what happens and they agree. Progress! She strips down to her underwear and he keeps his shirt and boxers on. Soon Lucy and I are kissing, and she is the best kisser, soft and sucking and nibbling without being invasive. She says I'm the best kisser too. We re-arrange ourselves for the male gaze and kiss some more, and I run my hands up and down her back and the sides of her breasts and then she asks if she can kiss my breasts. Fuck yes.
She sucks a nipple into her mouth and I groan and grind against her knee. It is one part real and one part demonstration. Soon we are kissing and groping each other above the waist and grinding against each others legs. “Honey,” she gasps, “come over here and watch.”
Soon she goes down on me and he kisses my breasts and I'm in heaven. Then I go down on her and she lays back against him and he plays with her breasts and she screams and pants ever so responsively. Every once in a while she gets what they call “too much in her head,” and they have a little routine they do and laugh about it and hit the bong and start again.
On the teevee two young girls are being fucked by an older man. First they talked about the boys at school, and then he shoved them down to their knees and fucked their mouths, then bent them over and fucked them, and then they both rushed and dived down to have him cum all over their faces. I can definitely see how some people hate porn.
Real life is the best, though. In real life she starts fingering my pussy and then he puts a couple fingers inside and his other hand is on my breast and her other hand is moving all over me and I think this is what I've always wanted.
Later we suck his cock, movie style with our tongues intertwining. “Fuuck,” he moans, “I feel like there's a porno happening on my cock.”
Then she lays back and watches me suck him off. She claims to be submissive, but I think there's something sadistic about this. Suck my man's cock, she'd said. It was a question, but in the kind of acting voice that says you have to go along with it. So I do. But soon he is too much in his head and we stop for another smoke break and then we kiss some more and then it is time to leave. They say thank you, thank you, this is better than our fantasies, this is the best thing that's ever happened to our sex life.
I love being the sex fairy. In the car I move money between places, budgetting by envelopes at the red lights all the way back to the hotel.
~
Ecowhore ~
