I thought I had it all at 32—a thriving career as an electrician, a stunning wife with a body that turned heads, a cozy house in the suburbs, and a circle of great friends. Life felt perfect, until the day I discovered she was pregnant. But it wasn’t mine. Her boss, some pencil-dicked executive, had been slipping it to her on the side because he was “smaller and easier to handle,” as she later confessed in a fit of tears. I wasn’t about to raise another man’s kid. No way in hell.
I hired the sharpest lawyer I could find: Kathy, a vindictive powerhouse who shredded my ex in court like she was yesterday’s trash. We walked away with the house, the savings, everything except her car and clothes. My ex was left fuming, but I was victorious. After the settlement, I sat in Kathy’s office, gloating over our win while she tallied up her fees. She leaned back in her chair, a sly smile creeping across her lips. “Okay, now I want to see it.”
I blinked, confused. “See what?”
She locked eyes with me, her gaze dropping pointedly to my crotch. “Your cock. I want to see it.” She paused, letting the words hang in the air. “That bitch of an ex spent over an hour and a half in our depositions whining about how sore you left her most nights. Said you were too big, too much to handle. And yet, she was out there slutting it up with her boss and at least two other guys. I was pissed for you—you barely got to fuck her because of it. So, let me see it. Now.”
It hit me like a freight train: this professional, buttoned-up lawyer was in heat, her composure cracking under raw desire. I chuckled, shaking my head. “I don’t think so. I whip it out, and I leave here with blue balls? No thanks.”
That was the spark. She stood up abruptly, her hands flying to her blouse as she stripped it off, revealing a lacy black bra straining against her big, fake tits. Her skirt followed, pooling at her feet, and she kicked her panties across the room like they offended her. Kathy was a vision—5’8″ or 9″, athletic build, blonde hair cascading over her shoulders, with curves I’d secretly stroked to more than once during late-night fantasies. She sauntered around the desk, her eyes locked on mine. “Your turn. Take it out, and you won’t have to worry about blue balls. I’ll drain them dry if it’s as big as she boasted.”
My slacks hit the floor, and she gasped, her hand flying to her mouth. “Holy shit, she wasn’t exaggerating. That’s fucking amazing.” In seconds, she was on her knees, worshiping my cock like it was a god. Her lips kissed the tip, her tongue swirling from my taint to the head, sucking and licking with sloppy, eager abandon. This wasn’t the poised attorney from court; this was a cock-hungry slut unleashed, her eyes glazed with lust as she devoured me.
I let her work me over, but soon I craved a taste of her. “Hop on the desk,” I growled. She grinned, thinking we were jumping straight to fucking, but I spun her around, laid her back with her head hanging off the edge, and gripped her thighs. I dove in, eating her pussy like a starving man—lapping at her slick folds, teasing her clit until she bucked against my face. She stroked and licked my cock in return, barely able to focus as her first orgasm ripped through her. Her juices gushed, seeping down to her bleached asshole, which I teased with a few deliberate licks. She went incoherent, babbling, “Fuck me, please, God, fuck me now!”
I spun her again, papers and pens flying off the desk in a chaotic scatter. I slid into her slow and deep, inch by thick inch, careful not to batter her cervix too hard. She came almost immediately—not even three strokes in—her walls clenching around me like a vice, her nails digging into my back. “Oh fuck, yes, you’re so big!” she moaned. I kept the rhythm steady, letting her recover just enough before a third orgasm hit, her body shaking violently.
She pushed me off, eyes wild with lust. Grabbing her phone, she barked, “Clear my schedule,” and hung up without waiting for a response. Trying to compose herself, she panted, “My house. Now. Oh God, you’re so… fuck, yes, follow me.” She held my pussy-soaked cock as she slipped her skirt back on, then knelt to lick herself off me, kissing the tip before tucking me away. “My house. Please!”
“Nope. Mine,” I countered.
“Deal.” She stuffed her wet panties in my pocket. “Meet you there.”
I half-expected her to ghost, but I left the front door open and cracked a beer. When she arrived in the kitchen, she hurled her shirt across the room and freed my cock again, dropping to her knees to kiss, suck, and lick with renewed fervor. Her hands were magic—stroking my shaft while her fingers explored my asshole for the first time ever. She pushed in, expertly massaging my prostate. “Oh, fuck!” I groaned, nearly exploding.
She grinned, knowing she’d hit gold. “You like that, huh? Finger-fucking your ass while I stroke this monster.” But she was needy, pulling me by the dick to the bedroom— the same one where I’d only ever fucked my ex. She pushed me onto the bed, slipped a condom in her mouth, and rolled it down over my magnum-sized cock, using her hands for the rest. Crawling over me like a prowling cougar, she mounted me, rocking and riding until her legs shook in another orgasm, impaling herself deep.
I pulled her close, rolled us over, and fucked her slowly through wave after wave of climaxes until I finally unloaded. Sweat dripped off me as I collapsed beside her, both of us panting. We dozed off, but I woke to her licking me clean again. She climbed on for my first-ever titty fuck, her big fake breasts enveloping me until I painted her chest and chin with ropes of cum.
In the shower, she soaped me up, awe in her voice. “I get what she meant now. Nothing’s going in my cunt for a while—you stretched me so deep.” I returned the favor, lathering her perfect body. Before long, she ordered food, and we lounged naked on the bed. That’s when reality hit: I couldn’t afford the house without massive overtime. She noticed my shift. “What just happened?”
I explained the finances. She laughed. “Rent? We just had the fuck of my life, and you’re worried about rent?” She elaborated: “There are so many rich women around here renting dick not even close to yours.” She snapped a pic of her small hand wrapped around my cock. Her phone rang within a minute. “Oh yeah, and he knows how to use it. Stretched me so good, didn’t pound me senseless, so I can still walk—but damn, your clients will love him. Okay, I’ll send him your way this evening.”
Confused, I asked, “What?”
“When I need rent-a-cock, I call her. She wants an interview tonight. You’ll be happy—you won’t have to be gentle with her.” She never let go of my dick, even as we ate in bed. “Will I see you again?” I asked.
She kissed me. “Oh yeah, but you’re gonna be busy. I pay $1,000 a night for cock like this, and you’ll have no trouble booking.” She rifled through my clothes, picking a suit I rarely wore. “Dressed to slay a lioness,” she said, sending me off to meet Clair.
I pulled up to the biggest mansion I’d ever seen. A gorgeous blonde in a gold bikini answered. “Mr. Smith? Follow me.” Her ass was hypnotizing—perfect, round, swaying like a siren’s call. She led me to a grand room that screamed old money, more library than office. Clair stood there, nude under a sheer blue robe, untied and open, revealing a perfectly trimmed red landing strip. She had to be 50, maybe 60, but damn, she was fire: long flowing red hair, pale skin, piercing green eyes, and nipples pierced with delicate bars. My cock twitched to life instantly.
She motioned to the blonde. “Go ahead, dear—take him out for me.” The blonde’s tiny hands freed me, stroking with wide-eyed fascination, her gaze locked on my shaft like I’d hypnotized her back. Clair shooed her away. “You may go.” The blonde pouted, disappointed.
Clair approached, gripping my cock and pulling me into a kiss while stroking. Breaking away, she said, “We’ll have Sarah teach you the art of kissing, but you’ve got a good start. This, however, no one can teach.” She explained: “You’re here to impress me. Ravish me—start slow and easy like with Kathy, but as I get wetter, get aggressive. I need to see your talents and instincts. Before you leave, you’d better be railing me deep with this fuck stick. If I have to ask you to fuck my ass, you’re hired. Pay’s $800 for a four-hour session, $1,400 overnight, weekends or weeks vary but never less than $4,000 for a weekend.”
She led me to the bed by my cock. When she sat, I knelt, hoisted her knees over my shoulders, and ate her out like it was my life’s mission. She tasted sweet and tangy, her smooth folds parting for my tongue. I worked the pad of my thumb into her opening, circling her asshole with the base. Her moans guided me: “Yes, right there, you filthy boy—lick my clit out of hiding.” My thumb slid in her pussy, then teased her puckered, bleached hole. I swapped, thumb on clit while I tongued her back door. She raised her hips, grinding. “God, with a cock your size, you learn to love eating pussy—because it hurts after a while, but fuck, I love it too.”
I worked her clit relentlessly, thumb alternating holes, free hand pinching a pierced nipple. She wasn’t cumming yet, but I was on track. When I buried my thumb deep in her ass, she exploded—squirting all over my face in a gushing torrent. I lapped it up, thrilled, my cock throbbing like steel.
She yanked me up by my hair and ears, but I paused at her perfect nipples—ghostly areolas barely darker than her pale, freckled skin, nipples thick as my pinky tip. I sucked and bit gently, making her arch. “Enough teasing—fuck me now, you big-cocked stud,” she commanded, her voice husky with need.
I positioned myself at her entrance, slick from her squirt, and eased in slow—inch by girthy inch, feeling her tight walls stretch around me, velvet heat gripping like a glove. “Ohhh, yes, that’s it—fill me up deep and slow,” she moaned, her green eyes rolling back. “Your ex was right; you’re a monster. Stretch my cunt, make it yours.” The sensation was electric—her pussy pulsing, milking me as I bottomed out gently, avoiding her cervix. I rocked steadily, building friction, her juices coating my balls. “Deeper… slower… God, you’re hitting spots no one’s touched in years,” she encouraged, her hands clawing my back.
Her first orgasm built gradually, her breaths turning to whimpers. “I’m close—keep that rhythm, you perfect fuck machine.” She clenched, screaming, “Cumming! Fuck, yes, flood me with that thickness!” Her body convulsed, walls spasming around me, soaking the sheets.
Panting, she locked eyes. “Now turn me over and rail me deep and hard—destroy this pussy like you own it.” I flipped her onto all fours, her pale ass up, red landing strip glistening. I slammed back in, pounding relentlessly, balls slapping her clit. “Yes! Harder, you beast—pound my cervix, make it hurt so good!” she begged, pushing back. I buried my thumb deep in her ass, twisting and thrusting in time with my hips. “Fuck, thumb-fuck my shithole while you wreck my cunt—deeper, you dirty bastard!”
Her second orgasm hit like a storm, her ass clenching my thumb, pussy gushing around my cock. “Oh God, again—don’t stop railing me!” But I kept going, building to her third. She trembled, moaning, “Third one’s coming—fill me soon, but not yet… yes, right there!” She shattered, squirting backward onto my thighs, her voice raw: “Cumming so hard on your massive dick!”
After her third, she growled, “Cum for me now—pump that load deep in my wrecked pussy, on command like a good boy.” I obeyed, roaring as I erupted, flooding her with hot ropes, her walls milking every drop. But I stayed rock-hard, throbbing inside her.
“Still hard? Perfect,” she purred. “Now fuck my ass. Own it.” I’d never done anal, so I eased in slow, her tight ring resisting then yielding to my girth. “No, none of that gentle shit—slam it in deep and hard, destroy my bowels like a filthy animal!” she demanded. I gripped her hips and thrust savagely, burying myself balls-deep in her ass, the tightness almost overwhelming. “Yes! Rail my shithole—stretch it wide, make me your anal whore!” she screamed, fingering her clit. I pounded mercilessly, feeling her ass grip and release, the filthiest slaps echoing. “Deeper, you hung fucker—fill my guts with your cum!” I exploded again, pumping load after load into her bowels, collapsing over her.
We rolled into aftercare, snuggling in the sweat-soaked sheets. She traced circles on my chest, whispering, “You ravaged me perfectly, stud. That was exquisite.” Still catching her breath, she called out, “Sarah! Come in here.” The blonde from earlier entered, eyes widening at the sight. “Wash his cock clean with your mouth, dear—suck off every drop of our mess.”
Sarah dropped to her knees eagerly, her perfect ass wiggling as she took me in her mouth, licking and sucking with sloppy enthusiasm, moaning around my shaft. “Mmm, tastes like victory,” she murmured between slurps.
Clair watched, satisfied. “You’re hired, Mr. Smith. Here’s $5,000 for tonight—consider it a signing bonus.” She handed me a thick envelope. “Tomorrow, you’re off to my stylist for a wardrobe upgrade—suits that scream ‘elite fuck machine.’ And an appointment with Sarah for kissing lessons. She’ll teach you to kiss like you fuck: deep, dominant, unforgettable.”
She explained her cut was 20%, all clients are vetted, and no concern of police. She asked if I was good with guys. I was shocked. “Well, if you’re willing to explore it, I can get you more money; men pay almost twice what women do, you could be a bull for a couple, or just arm candy for a rich guy. But we can discuss after a few client reviews.” She kissed me and sent me away. Before I got to my car, I had a client booked for Saturday night.
