This is a true story and I plan on writing more about some of my sexual experiences. I enjoy reading erotic stories and decided to try my hand at writing one. This story takes place in November 2020.
When the plane landed I unbuckled my seat belt and leaned over, lowered my mask, and kissed the man, who was sitting next to me in our first-class seats, on the cheek.
“Thank you,” I said to him and pulled my mask up. I had more than a hint of giddiness in my voice.
I could see Patrick’s smile behind his mask and he placed his hand on my bare knee, “You are welcome, Felicia.” His deep, masculine voice gave me a slight tingle.
We both stood at the same time and he towered over my five-foot-one-inch frame. Patrick was a big man. He stood six feet two inches and his body was large with a barrel chest and huge muscular arms. It was a working man’s physique; not the sculptured body that men got from going to the gym every day and working out, but the type of body men got from a life of hard labor. Patrick was a forty-two-year-old white man with short, light brown hair that was cut in a professional style. His smooth-shaven rugged face was not what I would call handsome. He was attractive in a way but not someone women would jump at the chance to be with. I came to find him more attractive over the seven months since we had started dating. Dating? That’s one way of putting it. In truth, Patrick was what people would call my “Sugar Daddy.” I never called him that and did not like the term, but if it quacks like a duck.
My attraction to him came more from how he treated me and the type of person he was, not just the money he spent on me or the gifts he purchased me. True, that was how our relationship started and while I did not love him I did become very fond of him. Patrick was a true gentleman. He treated me with respect, opened car doors for me, doors to buildings, and was very polite and respectful to others. He reminded me of men from older movies. Men like that, those from my experiences, are hard to come by. He had very few vices. Patrick was not a heavy drinker and I had never seen him drunk while he had seen me drunk on several occasions. He seldom used crude or vulgar language in everyday conversation and he used “yes sir,” “no, sir,” “yes ma’am,” and “no ma’am” to people often. After almost seven months of dating him the only vice I could find he had was sex. Patrick was a very sexual and sensual person and he did have his kinks and fetishes. None of them I minded at all and found them very exciting, thrilling, and physically satisfying. I had yet to object to anything we did sexually and I had my fetishes and kinks he was more than happy to fulfill.
Patrick enjoyed love-making and sensual passion when we had sex, but he also enjoyed fucking my brains out. Patrick was a very dominant man sexually and often our intimate times would be rounds of rough sex that included but not limited to hair-pulling, spankings, bondage at times, him using toys on me, and even sometimes using ball gags and nipple clamps on me. There were several occasions we had threesomes with other girls and he even liked to watch me get fucked by another man, which we had done on occasion since we started our relationship and arrangement. However, he never did anything I did not consent to and I admit, I enjoyed these things a great deal.
Yes, it was true through our financial arrangement and I considered myself “bought and paid for” I did consent to some of the things we did together sexually I would normally not do, but I did enjoy them a great deal. I liked when he would watch me get fucked by another man and then join in. We even participated in a mini orgy with three female stripers and four male strippers when Patrick took me to Los Vegas for my twenty-first birthday. He financially compensated the stripers very well for their time that night, but they all enjoyed it as well. Another time when we went to New York City he took me to see Wicked on Broadway and then after we went to a Fetish/BDSM club. It was a delightful night of depravity. Being a small-town girl I never knew there were so many “freaky” people until our night in the fetish club.
As Patrick got our carry-on bags from the overhead storage compartment I looked around at the other first-calls passengers as they departed the plane. The looks some of them gave us, gave me, were looks of disapproval. Two men, one much older and one younger than Patrick, ogled my body. I understood their looks even if I did find them more than a little offensive. The main reason for their disapproval looks would be the fact I was a young black girl with a much older white man who, based on our shows of public affection during the flight, was easy to see what type of relationship Patrick and I had. The other reason would be the way I was dressed, which is what drew the attention of the two men.
Patrick had another fetish and that was younger black girls and I am a young black girl. At the time I was twenty-one. I am very happy with my looks except for my height. I am only five foot one inch tall and wished I was taller. I weighed one hundred and fifteen pounds and I have been told often I am pretty but I think I am just cute. I did have a vain and conceded feeling about three of my physical features. I have very nice, natural thirty-six C cup breasts which were firm and tipped with large brown areoles. My petite frame made them look even more perfect. I have a great ass as well. I had a nice bubble ass that was tight and could fill out any outfit I wore. I was vainly proud of my amazing butt and liked to show it off in clothes that fit my ass snuggly.
Lastly was my pussy. I had a sexy, tight pussy. The vulva area was puffy, sometimes called fat by men and women I have been with, and inside my pussy was a nice coral pink color. I did wish the flesh color around my vulva and pussy was a much darker skin tone than the rest of my body like a lot of black girls have, but I can’t have everything. My skin complexion is the color of light mahogany and I had a rose tattoo on my right shoulder. I have a thin waist which also helps to accent my butt and breasts. My hair was long and styled with thin, crochet dreadlocks. My natural hair length was down to the middle of my back, but I do have hair extensions that extended down past my waist. Patrick liked my hair.
Personality-wise I am very easygoing with a sweet nature, very outgoing and charming, slow to anger, and when I do get mad I get over it very quickly. I do tend to talk a lot and spill a lot of personal information about myself. Sexually I am very open and willing to try different things. I do have my kinks and fetishes. I believe in communication before, during, and after sex to discuss things you and your partner enjoy and do not enjoy; it’s embarrassing to have my tongue up a guy’s ass or a girl’s ass and have them tell me they don’t enjoy that. Yes I may be disappointed they don’t enjoy some of the things I do, but if it does not please them or make them feel good then I give them respect. I am a submissive lover and enjoy my partner being the one in charge during sex. I may and do enjoy imitating sex but when it starts I prefer them to be in control. I orgasm very easily, quickly, and often during sex or having my pussy and clit fingered or licked and played with. I can cum from both penetration as well as stimulation of my clit. In general, I will have two or three orgasms, sometimes more, before my partner has one. When I was eighteen and getting a birth control prescription from the doctor at the health clinic I asked her if that was normal and she assured me nothing was wrong with me and even chuckled and said I was a “lucky girl.”
That day on the plane I was wearing casual clothes but they were also a little revealing. My green pullover top was low cut and you could see the top of my white bra and my white shorts were short and tight. I did like to show off my cleavage and ass. It was November but we landed in Orlando, Florida and the weather was still warm enough for such clothes.
I met Patrick seven months ago when I was living in Branson, Missouri where I was born and raised. I was raised by my grandparents since I never knew my father and my mother was declared an unfit parent due to her use of drugs and alcohol and her diagnosed bipolar disorder. Social Services took me away from her when I was nine when during one of her manic depression moods she tried to severely hurt me.
I would not say we were poor, but we did not have a lot of money. My grandfather owned a convenience store that was not very successful, mainly due to the area we lived in. I would not call it the “ghetto” but it was close to it. He was robbed often and people there had very little money to spend and most of his income from the store came from beer, tobacco, and gasoline. My household was not the most loving household to grow up in. My grandfather was a grumpy and sometimes cruel man who was strict and while he was not abusive he did believe in corporal punishment in the form of using a switch on the back of my upper thighs. The worse part was he would make me go out and pick the switch from one of the trees in the yard and if I picked one not to his liking the punishment was worse. That being said, he never beat me or switched me for no reason. Yes, often the reason did not fit the punishment in my opinion and I would get switched for the slightest misdeed. My grandmother was very old fashion and religious and supported her husband.
After I graduated high school and at eighteen years old and working my grandfather kicked me out of the house and my grandmother did nothing to stop him nor did she want to. She even called me a devil spawn whore like my mother as I was leaving. They figured since I was eighteen their obligation as guardians were over. I moved out and have had very little contact with my grandparents since then; they don’t seem to have minded and never attempted to contact me. While it was never said by them, I know the main reason I was kicked out of the house was because of my sexual activities and the fact I dated white boys. While not limited to dating or getting fucked by white boys I was still attracted to them. I also had a reputation of being who my grandmother called “a good time girl” and most people would call a slut.
There were girls at school that were more promiscuous than I was but also more discreet about it. Another reason I was considered the school slut was an unfounded rumor that an ex-boyfriend of mine started when I was sixteen. Before he broke up with me he told everyone I had been ganged banged by five white boys at a party thrown by college boys from the College of the Ozarks. That was not true. First, it was only three white boys and all I did was perform oral sex and only on two of them. Now granted I intended to let all three fuck me but the combination of the alcohol and swallowing the cum of the first two boys did not sit well in my stomach and I vomited on the third boy as I was sucking his white cock. I told them I was fine and could continue but as soon as those words came out of my mouth I threw up again, this time on the bed. They lost interest in fucking their first black girl and I was too embarrassed to push the issue.
The final nail in the coffin for them kicking me out of their home was when my grandfather discovered that when I was eighteen and in my senior year I was having an affair with a thirty-eight-year-old white man. He was a contractor that was doing some work on my grandfather’s store after a tree fell on the store due to a bad thunderstorm. The man was the divorced father of a girl I went to school with. She was not a friend and two years behind me in school, but to my grandparents, it was something only a whore would do. I never saw it that way. I was eighteen and I always had a very open and willing to explore my sexuality and I love sex. But those are different stories.
At eighteen and no big promises of going to college due to money and the fact I never did take the SATs, not because I was not intelligent but I saw no reason to take it. I was working as a maid in one of the resorts in the Ozark area and living in a rented one-bedroom, rundown, mobile home, and struggling to pay my bills. When I was twenty I was fired from my job as a maid for two reasons. One was Covid and the lack of tourists coming to the Ozarks during the pandemic and the other reason was that I took money to have sex with a married couple in their early fifties who were guests at the resort. The night I spent with them I found out they were a racist couple from Mississippi who wanted to dominate a young black girl. They were into race play, which I did not mind at all.
One of my fetishes when with a white male or female was for them to verbally humiliate me by calling me a black whore, black slut, etc., and as they fucked me making a point to refer to my race and skin color such as saying things like; “I want to fuck your black pussy,” “you like sucking white cock,” and similar things. I did not like when they used the “N” word to me or some of the other racial slurs, but for two thousand dollars, I could endure it for the night. I did not mind the hair pulling, spankings, and mild face slapping (things I do enjoy) they did to me either, but the lady slapped me twice very hard that left a bruise on my cheek. That I did not care for but I continued the night for the money.
Since I was fired for the “prostitution” I could not file for unemployment. I knew I crossed a line by accepting the couple’s money, a legal and moral line, but I needed the money to pay bills and make my rent and buy food and pay my car payment on a used, run-down older model Toyota that was not worth the money I financed to purchase it. I felt the two thousand dollars to spend the night with them was well worth it. I never knew how I got caught or who found out and told on me, but I did get caught. My suspicions were the couple told on me for just being racist and maybe they thought it would be funny to have a black person fired. I thought that because when I was fired my manager never had proof I prostituted myself; he just said it came to his attention that I offered my sexual services to them for money.
The resort manager never called to police but told me he would if I tried to file unemployment and told me he would not give me a reference for another job and if any new employer contacted him about my integrity he would tell them what I did. He was openly gay so I knew I could not entice him with sex or at least a blow job to keep my job. Yes, I was that desperate for money and a job. The manager also hated me anyway since I was occasionally fucking one of the bellhops that the manager had a thing for.
At twenty I was unemployed, Covid was rampant and businesses were not hiring, or at least businesses I was qualified to work at. I was two months behind on my rent and facing eviction as well as having my power and water and gas disconnected. The two thousand dollars I got from the couple would only help me for about two more months, maybe three if I went without some things like food and lived off Ramen Noodles. I had no family or friends to help so I did what I had to and what I thought was my best option and I had already done it once so the door was already open so to speak. I became an escort which is a fancy way of saying I became a prostitute. At first, I thought about being just a webcam girl or starting an Only Fans site but that would need startup money to buy the things I didn’t have; internet, webcam, and even a computer, and it would take time to establish myself. The time I didn’t have.
I used my phone to take some photos of me posing in provocative manners and found a website that I could advertise on as an independent escort. I was not very successful and just squeaked by selling my “companionship”. It was not that I was not attractive enough or did not have a great petite body, but other factors. Nasty Covid, competition from other escorts, and as well as I did not know what the hell I was doing.
My first time out did not go well at all. I showed up at the motel room and instead of one man it was two, they both fucked me very roughly and then did not pay. I was too naive about being a hooker to collect the money upfront. They threatened to beat me up if I did not leave and pushed me out of the motel room before I could finish getting dressed. I had to leave my shoes behind. I did not want to join an agency or have a pimp but I knew I needed someone for protection. I asked this black man who was a line cook at the resort I formally worked at for his help. I was friendly with him and he was a huge and mean-looking black man who I knew carried a handgun in his car. I don’t know if it was legal or not but I knew he had one. I knew he had a crush on me and at times when I worked at the resort, I flirted with him so he would sneak food products out of the kitchen for me to take home. It was not an easy question to ask and explain to him I had become a hooker, but out of desperation I did and I told him I would pay him. He agreed but said in exchange he did not want money but I had to let him fuck me on occasion and suck his cock. The bargain was struck and I now had protection.
Another reason I was not that successful was my selectiveness of my clients. After my first experience, I would not see anyone under the age of thirty unless it was a male and female couple. I did not go broke and I was making enough money on the few clients I saw to have the same standard of living I had before I was fired. When the Covid vaccine came out and restrictions were lifted and had established a few regular clients I soon started making more money; enough money for me to move into a better apartment, still small and rundown but one that was much better than where I was living. I was able to afford a laptop and internet and webcam. I planned to stop being a hooker and become just a webcam girl and maybe keep a few of my better clients. I then got the phone call from Patrick and my life changed for the better.
Patrick told me he was going to be in St. Louis for a week and was looking for “companionship” for the entire week and he saw my ad online. I told him St. Louis was way out of my area so I had to decline. He was persistent and told me he would pay extra for my time and all my travel expenses and I would not have to spend any of my own money on anything. Wanting to get rid of him, St. Louis was about a five-hour drive and I did not want to drive that far and I did not think my car could make the trip without breaking down. Plus if I stayed a full week I would not have the safety of my security man.
I am a nice person and don’t enjoy confrontation so instead of just saying no I made other excuses. I told him I could not drive that far, it would not be worth my time, etc. Patrick told me not only would he pay extra for my time, he gave me a dollar amount that was way above what a week of my companionship would cost, and also send me an airline ticket from Springfield to St. Louis. The airport in Springfield was only about a forty-five-minute drive from Branson. I was tempted by the money because it would be a lot and I could buy a new, used car with it; but I still had doubts. I used safety as an excuse next. Patrick told me he would send me a photo of three picture IDs and I could send them to someone I know so if they found my body in a dumpster the police would have an idea who did it. That did make me laugh. I next used the excuse of how could I trust he would pay up and had that kind of money. He offered to send a “down payment” to my PayPal account. I told him that was foolish because I could just keep the money and never show up. He agreed but said it was only money. I got intrigued and broke down and agreed.
True to his word he sent me an e-ticket for the flight and the money was deposited in my PayPal account. Now I am a nice person but don’t believe the stories about the “hooker with a heart of gold” bullshit. They don’t exist and I certainly was not that. While I offered the full GFE experience and could play act the role of a girlfriend and lover, which I did enjoy, I was in it for the money and nothing else. I could have just kept the money and I even thought about it, but as I mentioned, Patrick’s offer intrigued me, and also the money he did offer for the full week was something I could not pass up. I decided to meet him.
I won’t go into details of that first meeting with him and that week I spent with Patrick, that’s another story. I will say that he was good to his word, paid extra for anal service ( I enjoy anal sex a great deal but I knew to charge extra for it anyway), took me shopping for new clothes, shoes, sexy lingerie, took me to clubs, fancy restaurants, museums, and exposed me to culture and art I never been exposed to. We even went to an adult store and he bought several sex toys to use on me. He gave me a substantial bonus tip after the week was over and another bonus was the sex was awesome. We discussed what sexual things we were into including some kinks and fetishes so the sex was a combination of intimate and passionate sex, rough sex, some bondage play, humiliation play, and other things we both enjoyed.
One night and with my consent, Patrick hired another female escort to join us. She was a very cute, petite redhead in her early thirties and we three had a lot of fun. Before the week was over I was letting him bareback fuck me and cum in both my pussy and ass as well as swallowing his cum. I got tested every week at the county health clinic and against better judgment, I trusted Patrick was free of STDs as well. He was. The last night we spent together was when Patrick made his proposal to be my sugar daddy or as he phrased it, my benefactor.
Again I won’t go into details right now of what the arrangement would be, but to sum it up Patrick would pay for all my living expenses, a monthly allowance deposited in a bank account, a place to live, a new car, basically everything including health and dental insurance. I would have to move to Savannah, Georgia. Moving was no issue. I had no real friends I would miss and we know my family situation. I would be able to see other people if I desired but Patrick would come first. He told me I would get a passport because he would plan trips for us out of the country. There were other things included in the proposal as well. It sounded great but yes I had doubts of course.
My first question was why me? Yes, I am cute, fun, charming, outgoing, and have a great body. Yes, I do and enjoy things sexually most girls won’t do. Still, there are many young girls out there looking for a Sugar Daddy. Plenty of websites that cater to just that. Why me? I asked. Patrick’s answer was simple enough. Physically I was the type of girl he liked; a young, petite black girl with a great body and he said he loved my ass, he found me very pleasing and charming to be around and we seemed to have a lot in common when it came to sex.
He went on the explain that he had been looking for a girl he could financially support in exchange for her company (I knew he meant sex was to be included) and admitted he had met other young black girls he was interested in but after spending time with them they did not meet the expectations he had. He also admitted there was one girl he had met that he was considering and that he gave the same proposal to and if I turned him down he would choose her. He did tell me she was not so much into some of the kinky fetishes he and I both seemed to enjoy and while she would do them if the financial support he felt guilty about having her do things she did not want to just for money. I liked that he said that and after spending a week with him and all the sex we were having I believed him. I told him I would have to think about it and he agreed.
When I got back to Branson I did think about it. I weighed the pros and cons and the pros outweighed the cons by a large margin. After several days I called Patrick, asked some more questions, got answers I liked, and agreed to a three-month trial basis. Moving was easy. I had very little, mostly clothes. Again I won’t go into detail about my move and my first three months with Patrick being my “Sugar Daddy” and will write some other stories on that, but after a little over a month of being with him, I told him I no longer wanted a three-month trial basis and would be his for as long as we both were happy with our arrangement. I did live with him for the first month while we looked for a place of my own. Good to his word he did buy me a car, a new car which I never had before. It was a current model Mercedes Benz E Class Convertible.
I won’t detail the contract of our arrangement now, but some things I would like to point out. I was worried about if he got bored with me he could just dump me and stop paying my bills and giving me my monthly allowance. To prevent that and to make sure I was taken care of after our arrangement expired or if one of us decided to end it Patrick had a legal contract drawn up. Naturally, the contract did not mention anything about sex for financial support because that was illegal. It listed me as an employee of his. His personal assistant and Patrick provided me with health and dental insurance. If at any time for any reason my “employment” with him ended before the year was over I would receive a substantial severance package. The contract also offered an extension of employment after one year.
Over the time I spent with Patrick I had become very fond of him and he of me. We enjoyed each other’s company both sexually and nonsexually, in both public and private we would appear as a romantic couple, and we could act like girlfriend and boyfriend; but we both understood what I was to him and what he was to me and our arrangement was a financial one for me and he paid for my companionship and sex.
I did my best to make sure he was pleased with me sexually and even went “above and beyond” to satisfy his sexual desires and fetishes and kinks. When I did something more special for him, such as letting another man fuck me so he could watch, there was always an extra bonus added to my monthly allowance. I never asked for the extra money, Patrick just gave it to me.
I know some people will judge me for my relationship with Patrick as well as the time I spent as a prostitute and may say, “she could have gotten a job at Walmart” or something of that nature. That is true but I did what I did because I can be a very materialistic girl and I wanted to live the “good life.” I would get so jealous of the kids in school whose parents had money and wore nice clothes and would brag about summer vacations to wonderful destinations. When working at the resort I would get jealous of the rich people coming and seemed to have no worries about how much money they spent. I wanted that life and to get it I used what assets I had. I used my cute face, great ass and breasts, and my pussy to try and get that life. I figured I was giving it for free often enough why not get paid for it.
Some things I did discover about Patrick I would like to share so this story and others will be more understandable. He grew up in a city named Macon, Georgia and when he was eighteen he joined the Marine Corps. Patrick spent twelve years in the Marines. He was married for five years when he was in his twenties and divorced his wife (who was white) when he found out she was cheating on him with several men while he was in Somalia during Operation Restore Hope.
After the Marines, he got a job with a civilian contractor that did construction on an air force base near Macon. Four years before meeting me he won the lottery. Not just a few hundred thousand but the big lottery. The Power Ball and after taxes and other money the take out he received over three hundred million. Patrick spent money on things like a new house, cars, and other things people spend their winnings on, but he did not squander his winnings. He invested well, gave to charities, and made his money work and grow into more.
He had no living family besides a twenty-one-year-old son from a previous relationship. His son worked for the US Marshall Services as a Deputy Marshall in Utah. I never met his son and never would; that was not part of our arrangement. I do know that Patrick doted on his son. He spoke to him often and would fly out to Utah to visit him often. He mentioned to me several times that his son was his world. I found that very endearing.
While I was waiting for my passport to be approved, we took trips to Las Vegas, New York City, and other places. He asked me if there was any place I would like to go. My answer was Disney World. I loved Disney stuff and the Disney Princess. I would get jealous when I was in high school and hear other people talk about vacations to Disney World because I always wanted to go. Patrick booked a week-long trip to Disney in November for our Thanksgiving. He said it was one of the best times to go and would not be so hot and humid as the summer would be.
After we picked up our luggage from baggage claims at the airport in Orlando we picked up our rental car and drove to the Disney Resort we would be staying at.
“That did not bother you?” I asked on the drive to the park.
“What bothers me?”
“The way the people looked at us on the plane,” I said. I knew the answer but I liked to tease him. It did not bother me in the least.
Patrick laughed, “No.”
I knew it would not bother him. He never seemed to even think twice when we got looks from other people when they saw a young black girl dating an older white male. We attended many social events together and formal charity events and galas and Patrick always seemed honored to have me on his arm as his date.
“Did it bother you?” He asked me.
“Not the stares of disapproval but the way the two men looked at me like they wanted to through me down and ravage my body,” I teased.
Patrick laughed again, “Bullshit. You liked it and you know it.”
I giggled, “Yeah and so did you.”
That was the truth, I did like it and so did he. We both enjoyed other men looking at me with desire in their eyes. I liked it for my vanity reasons and Patrick liked it because he enjoyed showing me off.
I moved a little to my side in the passenger seat of the rental car and grinned at him. “I want to suck your big, white cock,” I told him with a flirty tone.
Again he laughed. “You always want to suck my cock.”
“I like sucking your cock and you never seem to mind,” I teased
Patrick grinned at me, “You just like sucking cock white cock regardless of who it belongs to.”
“Not true!” I exclaimed with fake indignation. I looked at him and grinned, “I like sucking black cocks as well but right now your cock is the only one available.” I did enjoy giving blow jobs a great deal.
“It’s going to have to wait until we check in the room,” He told me. “Traffic is too bad right now.
I pouted but he did have a point. On I-4 going through Orlando a little after 5 PM on a Monday afternoon, the traffic was stopped and go with more stop than go as we crept on the interstate. I had no problem having people watch me have sex or suck a cock, but only at appropriate times, and as we passed cars or cars passed us some were carrying kids. As much as I wanted his penis in my mouth and to swallow his cum this was not an appropriate time for it. I was looking forward to checking into the hotel so I could suck his cock.
Once we got to the hotel and inside the room, I forgot all about how much I wanted to have Patrick’s penis in my mouth. We stayed in one of the Disney Resorts located on Disney grounds. It was the Four Seasons Disney Resort and the room was a deluxe suite. Even though we had stayed at grand hotels and wonderful suites before on our trips to New York City and Los Vegas and other places, to me this suite was the best because it was freaking Disney!
I was giddy with excitement and acted like a little kid as I walked from the rooms to the bedrooms and bathrooms and I pointed out every little detail to Patrick. The master suite room had a huge king-sized bed that I knew would get a lot of use besides sleeping, but I also was so excited to be at Disney I was planning on having Patrick fuck me in every room in the suite.
As I rambled on with excitement and looked at the rooms, Patrick tipped the bellhop after he brought our luggage into the bedroom and Patrick sat on the bed smiling at me. He liked to see me happy. Once I finished my tour of the suite and pointed out every little Disney detail I could find including the Mickey Mouse-shaped bars of Soap, I joined Patrick in the bedroom.
“Oh My God!” I squealed. “This is amazing.”
“Happy?” He asked me.
I just gave him a large grin and nodded.
“I seem to remember something about a sexy black girl who wanted to suck my big white cock,” Patrick grinned back at me.
Still grinning I again nodded my head. “I am going to suck your cock so good,” I told him as I moved to him and dropped to my knees between his legs.
Patrick chuckled, “You have always sucked my cock so good since the first time I met you.”
I looked up at him and smiled and unbuckled his belt, unbuttoned his slacks, and slid his pants off his body. Patrick allowed me to do the work of getting his pants off but he did lift his butt off the bed so I could slide them down to his ankles. I could see the bulge of his semi-erect penis under his boxer shorts. He was going to let me control the blow job and he knew it was what I wanted. I sensually ran my hands up his thighs and let my fingers glide over his cock and gently caressed him over his underwear. As my fingers ran up and down his shaft, his penis started to become more erect, and then I bent my head down and started kissing the tip. I felt Patrick place his hand on the back of my head and I raised my head and grinned up at him as I removed his hand from my head.
“Ut uh,” I told him. “Lean back and relax. I am going to make sure we both enjoy this.” I told him and then removed my shirt and bra so he could see my large breasts.
Once I was topless I placed my fingers under the waistband of his briefs and slipped them down to his ankles. His penis sprang free and I took a moment to look and admire it. The earlier comment I made in the car about sucking his big cock was not to stroke his ego but a fact. Patrick had a cock to match his body size. He was nine and a half inches long (I playfully measured it one time) and thick. The first time I saw it I was a little put-off, but not by the size of it. His cock was not the largest one to fuck me, that belonged to one of my regular former clients who had a massive eleven-inch penis that was as thick as a soda can.
The man was sixty-seven years old and he paid for my companionship regularly once or sometimes twice a month. He was a nice, kind man who had several health issues including bouts of impotence so he could not get fully erect most of the time. He could not take a performance-enhancing drug like Viagra or Cialis since he also took Nitroglycerin for his heart condition. He was very sensual, however, and enjoyed sexual activities such as kissing, going down on my pussy, rimming my asshole, sucking my nipples, and more. While he could not get an erection or only get semi-erect or could not sustain an erection, he could still orgasm when I sucked his cock or jerked him off. Truth be told, I was relieved he could not become fully erect most of the time because the times he could and he fucked me, his massive cock would stretch my pussy open and it would hurt at first and leave me very sore after.
What put me off a little about Patrick’s penis was the head of his cock. It was a large, bulbous head that was much thicker than his shaft. I didn’t think it was abnormal or ugly or anything like that, just odd-looking. It did not take me long to enjoy the larger tip. I liked how it felt in my mouth and when he penetrated my pussy and asshole with it. I really enjoyed sucking it.
I ran my tongue up and down his large shaft several times and then took the head of his penis in my mouth. As I ran my tongue around the large head, having to open my mouth wide to accommodate the size, Patrick let out a masculine moan of pleasure. I enjoyed the sound of knowing I was pleasing him and moved my head down more to take him further into my mouth. I took about a quarter of his cock into my mouth and then brought my head up so again only the tip was inside me and then down again. I bobbed my head up and down at a nice slow pace until I was taking about half his cock. I could take more but I wanted to go slow and enjoy his penis in my mouth for a while. I was very good at sucking cock, but then again I did have a lot of practice at it. As I sensually sucked Patrick’s cock I let some of my salivae run out of my mouth onto his shaft and started using my right hand to stroke him as a gave him a blow job. I could hear his manly moans of pleasure and my own whimpering moans as I worked his cock with my hand and mouth. I let out a louder squealing, whimpering moan as Patrick reached down and ran his hand over my right nipple.
Even though he had not worked since he came into his money, Patrick still had rough, calloused hands from long years of hard, manual labor. I enjoyed his rough hands on my body and the pleasure they gave me. I kept sucking him and stroking him and gradually picked up the pace and let out another whimpering, muffled squeal when he took my nipple between his thumb and forefinger and teased them delightfully. I started bobbing my head up and down faster, stroking his cock faster, and taking him further down my throat as I enjoyed his moans and grunts of pleasure. I did gag a few times and my saliva ran out of my mouth in more abundance, but I continued to suck his cock. I let out another muffled, squealing whimper, this one louder and also a mixture of pain and pleasure when Patrick pinched my nipple hard.
After a while, I had to take my mouth off his cock to rest my jaw, but I continued to jerk his now slick shaft. He took a long time to orgasm from a blow job, but I did not mind because I enjoyed sucking cock and I found the result very rewarding. Once I rested my mouth I went back to my pleasurable work on his penis. As I continued giving him a blow job, faster now, I felt his body start to stiffen and his moans became louder and I knew he was about to cum. I placed just the large head of his penis in my mouth, used my tongue around it, and jerked his shaft rapidly.
Before long Patrick gave a grunting moan and his fluid sprayed from his cock and into my mouth. I kept sucking and stroking his cock and swallowed as his cum sprayed into my mouth and down my throat. I love a man’s cum. I love the smell, the taste, and the texture of the thick and sticky fluid. I swallowed all of his sex fluid and kept sucking and stroking to milk out every last drop. When I could not coax anymore of his cum out of his cock, I swallowed one last time and started licking his shaft to make sure I got all of it. I Then sat back on my heels and looked up and him and smiled as I wiped my mouth. Patrick grinned down at me but did not tell me how good I made him feel or compliment me on my oral skills. There was no need. I had sucked his penis so many times over the past seven months that we both knew I was a great cocksucker.
Still smiling I stood up and moved to him and straddled his legs and moved my face to his and we kissed deep and passionate as I wrapped my arms around his neck and he placed his hands on my butt cheeks. We kissed for a long time as I ground my hips against him. My pussy was so wet and I wanted to get fucked. Patrick moved his mouth to my neck and I moaned as he started kissing my neck.
“Stand up. It’s your turn now,” he whispered in my ear.
I giggled as I stood up and backed away from him a small distance.
To be continued next chapter.
