Oliver has it all lined up! His wife and son are away all weekend, so he has taken advantage of the free time to arrange drinks with the boys followed by a hooker to fuck his brains out!
He had found a redhead online; she looked hot and sexy, although her images purposely concealed her face. There were close-ups of her breasts and pussy, which both looked inviting. She offered the usual services, kissing, oral, and penetration for three hundred dollars an hour. To fuck her bum-hole was an extra fifty, and she had the right to refuse large cocks if her passage couldn’t take it.
Drinks with the boys escalate quite quickly from a few beers into cocktails and downing tequila shots. Oliver found himself in the gent’s toilets throwing up. He spits the last bits of puke of his mouth and staggers back to his friends to make his excuses and head home. He leaves after being heavily mocked and walks via a store to pick up some mints.
His modern apartment is in an exclusive complex on the upper east side of New York. He stumbles through the door, fills up the kitchen sink with water and adds some ice. He then dunks his head into the cold water in a bid to get mildly coherent.
The door buzzer comes alive, like a drill going through Oliver’s head. It must be her; it was 1.30 am on the dot. The prostitute is here, and he is in no fit state. But confident he can pull it together, Oliver goes over to buzz her in.
Oliver sits back on the sofa waiting. Through his daze, he can see a redhead walk in and shut the door behind her. She is dressed in sexy tight black leather trousers and a jacket.
“Hello, lover,” she says.
“Wow, hi Sylvie,” Oliver says, getting up.
“Darling, shall we deal with the money side first?” Sylvie asks.
“Yes, ok,” Oliver says getting out a roll of fifty-dollar notes and handing over enough for a few hours.
They settle on the sofa and start kissing. Sylvie could taste the alcohol on Oliver’s breath. His reactions were slow and non-compliant, he could barely focus on this beautiful woman. His eyes slowly close as he passes out.
Sylvie tries to wake Oliver up, his eyes open briefly and then he is gone again. He starts to snore loudly so at least he is alive. Sylvie decides it is a lost cause and as a gesture leaves half the cash, taking the other half for her trouble. She goes over to the front door. But it’s locked and you need a passcode to open it.
“Fucking hell,” she exclaims walking back over to Oliver.
Mason has had a hard day and relaxes with a whiskey and cigar on his balcony. His peace is disturbed by noise from the apartment above. He thought they were away.
“Hey, you, can you help me?”
Mason looks up and sees a redhead leaning over Oliver’s balcony above him.
“Hi”
“I am trapped in here, Oliver got drunk, and fell asleep and I can’t wake him up to get the door code.”
“Sorry, I don’t know what it is,” Mason exclaims.
“That wasn’t what I was thinking.”
With that Sylvie takes off her deep red flame stilettos, put them in her bag, which she slings over her shoulder, and proceeds to climb over the balcony railings.
“Fuck, lady, be careful, you could kill yourself.”
Sylvie looks down at the ground four flights below her. Holding tightly to the railings she shimmies down the metal post connecting the two balconies. She wraps her arms around and clambers like a monkey, her bare feet feeling the cold metal as she slowly heads to the balcony below. She swings her body. A nervous Mason tries to help and reaches out as she comes down. He falls back on the balcony as he grabs hold of her.
“Hello, I hope you don’t mind me dropping in like this,” she says lying on top of him.
Sylvie gets up and pulls Mason to his feet. They walk through to his apartment. The layout is exactly the same as the one above just differently decorated and you could tell Mason lives on his own.
“What’s your name?”
“It’s Sass, Sylvie Sass.”
“I am Mason. How do you know Oliver?”
“Just through work, we went to a fancy dress party which is why I am dressed like this.”
“Are you Catwoman?” Mason says looking down at her leather outfit.
Her leather trousers look like they are sprayed on they are so tight. Her black leather jacket is slightly looser fitting and you can tell she has nothing on underneath it.
“I was aiming for Emma Peel, The Avengers, sixties TV show. Have you seen it?”
“Yes. However, I do know Oliver and what he is like. As soon as his wife is away, he is at it.”
Sylvie stops the pretence and confesses to her occupation. Although he is currently single Mason has never paid for sex but is sorely tempted now the opportunity stands in his lounge.
“Hopefully you can let me out,” Sylvie says.
She rubs her bare feet and slips them back into her stilettos. Mason watches her black pedicured toes disappear and admires her cute toe cleavage in her shapely heels.
“You could stay if you wanted a drink or something?” Mason says as she is almost at the door.
“OK. What do you have?”
“Whiskey or beer? Would you charge me though?”
“I wouldn’t charge you for giving me a drink, no,” Sylvie says smugly.
“You know what I mean,” Mason replies.
“Well, I have actually been paid for the next thirty minutes by Oliver. So, I’ll have a beer please.”
Mason grabs some beers and hands a bottle over. Sylvie immediately takes a swig.
Mason is in his thirties with sweep-back deep brown way hair. He is of medium build and with a small belly, mainly from too many beers.
He moves closer to Sylvie. She is radiant, her orange-red hair bouncing off her face. She has deep brown eyes with a wicked smile. And her trim leather-clad physique accentuates the contours of her body.
Mason moves in and kisses her ruby lips. She reciprocates and wraps her arms around him. He grabs her smooth butt and pulls her close. She unzips her leather jacket, letting it spring open and her rounded breasts burst through. Mason starts to rub them as they kiss some more. He moves down and takes each tit in turn in his mouth. He sucks her nipples as he rubs her mountain peaks in his face. Sylvie pulls off his shirt. His kisses move further down her body. He undoes the buttons of her leather trousers to reveal a red lace thong.
Sylvie takes control, she takes off her heels for the second time and pulls off her trousers. Her thong is crotchless and her pussy looks amazing decorated on either side with red lace.
“Shall we go to the bedroom?” Sylvie suggests standing up.
She looks so hot in just her jacket and undies; Mason can’t wait to take her to his bed. They collapse on the crisp white sheets. His hands wander to Sylvie’s thigh, and he slightly strokes her lace thong.
“Do you like my pussy?” Sylvie asks spreading her legs.
“It looks very inviting,” Mason replies admiring her delicate slit.
“Oh, it is. It responds well to tongues and cocks,” she replies.
Mason moves down and starts kissing her snatch. He slides his tongue inside and feels the warmth of her pussy in his mouth as the lace brushes against his cheeks.
Sylvie undoes his jeans and pulls them down to return the favour. His penis is hard and a good size, a bit too big for her ass, so she doesn’t mention her willingness for anal. She runs her tongue along it and slaps it against her mouth before absorbing it to the back of her throat.
Mason is in heaven as he looks down at Sylvie’s mouth clamped to his cock, listening to the slurping noise of her sucking his shaft while she plays with his balls. Leaving him still wanting, she edges Mason to the point he almost cums then stops. She knows her trade. Sylvie pulls away and gets some condoms out of her bag.
“So, I have coloured ones, dotted ones, special ‘thin feel’ ones. What do you think?” she says going through her condom range.
“Thin feel,” Mason says begging her to fuck him.
“Good choice, it’s almost like you are bareback in my pussy, but that’s not allowed sailor,” she quips.
Sylvie uses her mouth to put Mason’s choice on his throbbing mushroom helmet. She then slides it further down. Mason puts himself between her legs and pushes his cock into her wet pussy.
Mason falls on top of Sylvie as she lifts her legs in the air. She swipes her foot across Mason’s face, and he glides his tongue along her arches. Sylvie then wraps her legs around him as she feels his hard dick thrust into her. He grabs hold of her buttocks as he keeps pushing.
“Fuck me, harder,” Sylvie cries.
She shrieks as she orgasms. Mason slows down and pulls away.
“Why don’t you finish off on my tits,” Sylvie suggests taking the leather jacket off her sweaty body.
Mason takes his cock out and pulls off the condom. He moves further up Sylvie’s body and puts his love stick between her breasts. He rubs his member against her rounded mounds. Sylvie licks her fingers and runs them over her chest, playing with her nipples while she watches Mason’s helmet frantically going between her tits.
“Cum for me, baby. I want you to cover me with your sticky mess.”
“Fuck, yes,” Mason cries as he sees a spurt of semen shoot from his penis.
“Oh, that is so nice. Come on give me everything,” she says encouragingly.
Mason keeps going covering her chest in his warm, sticky cum. Once he’s finished, he hands Sylvie a tissue to clean up.
“I don’t think one tissue is going to cut it, hun,” she says smiling, looking at the semen running to her belly.
“How much do you charge for the night?” Mason asks.
“Well as it is almost 3 am. I can do the rest of the night at a special rate of four hundred dollars.”
“Ok, I can’t let you go yet,” Mason agrees.
“Lovely, darling. I am looking forward to round two,” Sylvie says as she pulls Mason back towards her.
She sells so much more than sex and Mason was hooked by the hooker.
