Read Online Whore Diaries II: Adventures in Independent Escorting by Tara Burns - Free Book Online
Authors: Tara Burns
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neither.”
“He might be tall.”
“Yeah, I think he might be a pilot or something.”
“Right, he definitely works out of town.”
I look back at our emails to see if I’ve said anything I should remember, and see that he never asked and I never told him what our duo rate is. Last time, the first time I saw him, he’d wanted to see Jane, but she was busy and he had to go to work on an airplane at midnight, so she gave him to me. He asked what my rate was and I told him I honored Jane’s rates for Jane’s clients. He must have gone to my site, because when he left and I counted the money, it was $130 more than Jane’s rate and $50 more than mine. Maybe he’s going to overpay us. That would be so awesome!
When I open the door I, really don’t recognize him at all, but I guess that’s normal for me. I pull him in and kiss him. He’s tall and a good kisser, but he tastes kind of yucky. I spit one of my cinnamon Altoids in his mouth. I’m all concerned about getting bacteria from kissing lately, so I have a mouthful of antibacterial Altoids.
He wraps an arm around me and I press my boobs into him, my face turned up to meet his lips.
“Come see the pretty new room,” I say and lead him back to Jane's room. Mine is too small for three people.
“Oh, this is nice,” he says. If I were a client, I wouldn’t think this was nice, but my clients do seem to think it is. Very strange.
“Oh, heyyy,” he says to Jane when we get into the room. “Long time, no see, stranger.”
I help him out of his clothes and hang them up like a fancy ho; Jane mouths at me that she thinks she remembers him.
“Do you have any plans for the holiday weekend?” she asks in her loud kindergarten teacher voice. The thing that annoys me about working with her is that she makes every interaction so superficial. What did you do for the weekend, what kind of sports car do you like, where did you go to high school? I make everything intimate. Actually, yesterday someone told me that I’m inappropriately intimate in conversation and although it was meant as a kind of criticism I took it as a compliment.
I bounce onto the bed next to Jane and pat the spot between us with a big grin. Sometimes I like to pretend that I’m a crow girl from a Charles de Lint book. He crawls up and says, “This is better than Christmas,” and I tell him it’s about to get even better.
Jane starts kissing him and I grab the lube and start my magic hand job. See, we have a routine now, Jane and I. He has a big ball sack and a little cock and he moans when I scrape my nails lightly over his balls. He gets hard and I remember he’s a grower, not a shower, though it’s still small. He turns his head and kisses me for a while and I spit more cinnamon into his mouth and then I dodge it and kiss down his neck and Jane shoves one of her big tits in his mouth.
When he comes up for air, he asks if he can go down on me. Fuck yeah!
“Now I remember what I loved about you!” I say as he goes down on me. I’m having one of those sexually frustrating weeks where everything turns me on but nothing gets me off. Even when I have him doing exactly the right thing with his mouth and his fingers and Jane’s licking my nipples and everything’s perfect, I can’t seem to get over that last peak into orgasm. Then Jane tells me to get it, girl and for some reason I feel all oppositional, like how dare she tell me to have a good time? Just when I start to get into it again he leans, then rolls over my leg to start licking Jane. It’s a veritable buffet of vagina.
I kiss down his back while he’s licking her and then I have the bright idea of crawling under him and sucking his dick. It’s dark under there, and the smell is not the best. Actually I think the cinnamon
“He might be tall.”
“Yeah, I think he might be a pilot or something.”
“Right, he definitely works out of town.”
I look back at our emails to see if I’ve said anything I should remember, and see that he never asked and I never told him what our duo rate is. Last time, the first time I saw him, he’d wanted to see Jane, but she was busy and he had to go to work on an airplane at midnight, so she gave him to me. He asked what my rate was and I told him I honored Jane’s rates for Jane’s clients. He must have gone to my site, because when he left and I counted the money, it was $130 more than Jane’s rate and $50 more than mine. Maybe he’s going to overpay us. That would be so awesome!
When I open the door I, really don’t recognize him at all, but I guess that’s normal for me. I pull him in and kiss him. He’s tall and a good kisser, but he tastes kind of yucky. I spit one of my cinnamon Altoids in his mouth. I’m all concerned about getting bacteria from kissing lately, so I have a mouthful of antibacterial Altoids.
He wraps an arm around me and I press my boobs into him, my face turned up to meet his lips.
“Come see the pretty new room,” I say and lead him back to Jane's room. Mine is too small for three people.
“Oh, this is nice,” he says. If I were a client, I wouldn’t think this was nice, but my clients do seem to think it is. Very strange.
“Oh, heyyy,” he says to Jane when we get into the room. “Long time, no see, stranger.”
I help him out of his clothes and hang them up like a fancy ho; Jane mouths at me that she thinks she remembers him.
“Do you have any plans for the holiday weekend?” she asks in her loud kindergarten teacher voice. The thing that annoys me about working with her is that she makes every interaction so superficial. What did you do for the weekend, what kind of sports car do you like, where did you go to high school? I make everything intimate. Actually, yesterday someone told me that I’m inappropriately intimate in conversation and although it was meant as a kind of criticism I took it as a compliment.
I bounce onto the bed next to Jane and pat the spot between us with a big grin. Sometimes I like to pretend that I’m a crow girl from a Charles de Lint book. He crawls up and says, “This is better than Christmas,” and I tell him it’s about to get even better.
Jane starts kissing him and I grab the lube and start my magic hand job. See, we have a routine now, Jane and I. He has a big ball sack and a little cock and he moans when I scrape my nails lightly over his balls. He gets hard and I remember he’s a grower, not a shower, though it’s still small. He turns his head and kisses me for a while and I spit more cinnamon into his mouth and then I dodge it and kiss down his neck and Jane shoves one of her big tits in his mouth.
When he comes up for air, he asks if he can go down on me. Fuck yeah!
“Now I remember what I loved about you!” I say as he goes down on me. I’m having one of those sexually frustrating weeks where everything turns me on but nothing gets me off. Even when I have him doing exactly the right thing with his mouth and his fingers and Jane’s licking my nipples and everything’s perfect, I can’t seem to get over that last peak into orgasm. Then Jane tells me to get it, girl and for some reason I feel all oppositional, like how dare she tell me to have a good time? Just when I start to get into it again he leans, then rolls over my leg to start licking Jane. It’s a veritable buffet of vagina.
I kiss down his back while he’s licking her and then I have the bright idea of crawling under him and sucking his dick. It’s dark under there, and the smell is not the best. Actually I think the cinnamon
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