Hayley at reception tells me I’ve got a client waiting in suite one, the deluxe boudoir here at Le Penthouse Suite. She says he’s a Scottish or English chef here on holiday, that’s all she says, and she then gives me a secretive smile and answers the phone.
I give myself a once over, check that my lace garter belt is tight against my lithe and shapely thighs, that my diaphanous lavender G-string is positioned just right to reveal the high V-line and sweet curves of my hips and waist, and that my matching brassiere fully accentuates the fullness of my breasts with nipples pressed hard against the sheer transparent fabric.
I move briskly away from reception up the staircase, carefully balanced on the new high heel pumps I recently bought, and I toss my dark brown hair so that it fans out across my shoulders; primping myself before a somewhat mysterious session here at Le Penthouse Suite, the Glitter Strip’s classiest and most reputable bordello, home to a cadre of first-class escort companions so pleasure-centred clients always come back.
I step through the doorway into Suite One and he’s sitting on the love seat, one leg casually crossed over the other, leafing through the erotic magazines placed on the low coffee table. Before I realize he could be someone famous, he rises to greet me, smiling blue eyes and messy blonde hair displaying a boyish charm although he’s in his forties. He’s tall and rangy, with a gentle but firm hand grasp and he gives me a sensitive peck on my cheek. His blue satin shirt is open at the collar and he’s wearing a thick gold necklace, and I see that he has a Gold Rolex as well. All this adds to the impression that he is someone famous and wealthy, but I just can’t place who he might be.
I stand back a little, putting one long and toned leg forward, placing my hands on my hips, pushing out my breasts, giving him the most seductive gaze I can with a small smile that causes him to break into a generous grin. His blue eyes lock upon my baby blue eyes and the unspoken communication is that he’s into me. His blue eyes then wander casually down the length of my twenty-something body, pausing for a long look at my breasts tightly held in the lavender brassiere and pushed up invitingly, moving down my belly and then lingering for a long moment on the way my tight and tender pussy is barely concealed by my skimpy G-string, and is framed by a gorgeous set of legs that men love to have wrapped around them.
“I’m CeeJay, where … “, but before I can finish he descends upon me, encircling me in his strong arms, pressing his body firmly against mine, and placing a deep and probing kiss on my lips. And then another kiss, this time with his tongue clashing against mine, mouths mingling in a longed for intimacy. He then reaches around and unfastens my brassiere, letting the strapless lingerie piece fall to the ground between us, so he can start sucking my nipples, pulling me even closer into him, now pressing his crotch against my lower stomach and pussy.
He starts alternating between kissing and sucking my breasts and nipples, and sucking and kissing my neck, and he hisses at me in a cultured Scottish accent, “Call me G.R.”, and he moves me over to the love seat while I awkwardly unbutton his trousers, letting them fall away to reveal black briefs and a bulging erection already folding out above the waist band and already glistening with pre-cum. He pushes me onto the love seat and he kisses a line down my stomach until his lips press firmly against my G-string crotch. He inhales deeply, and he says, “I love the scent of your pussy,” and then pulls aside the fabric and starts to lick and suck my pussy lips, then probing into my sex with his tongue starts to lick and suck my clitoris.
I’m moaning and my hands are clutching tufts of his blonde hair, my hips rearing up into his face and ferocious cunnilingus. My legs are spread wide apart, one leg resting on the top of the love seat the other leg hooked over his shoulder.
He keeps growling my sex, sucking the pussy lips and sucking on my clitoris, and then he starts nibbling my clitoris ever so gently and this causes me to buck hard and moan into the ceiling. His hands are grasping my waist, and grabbing my breasts, fondling my nipples, and I kick of my high heels and with one foot I reach under him and start fondling his thick erection with my toes, gripping his thick shaft and pulling it fully out of his briefs. This is his cue and he starts to kiss a line back up my stomach, onto my breasts again, manoeuvring himself into position so he can penetrate my tight and young sex. He starts to rub the glistening head of his thick pole against my pussy lips and then I remember we need protection, so nudge him away momentarily with my knee, and reach down to the condom packets strategically placed by the love seat. But he’s in a frenzy and he pushes my thighs apart and places his thick length along the groove of my sex, ready for a second attempt to penetrate my pussy.
I giggle, saying, “Hold on G.R.”, and before he can plunge his manhood into me I start to fit the condom onto his erection, rolling it onto his shaft, rolling it to its full extent at two thirds to the base of his throbbing pole.
He quickly places the head of his erection against my pussy lips again, rubbing it up and down along the groove until he finds just the right position, finds the entry to my tight sex, and then he pushes and penetrates me with a pop, grunting with lust and thrusting ever deeper into me. Then he starts rocking into me, pulling me onto his forward thrusts, pulling me onto his pole, pulling me fully onto his shaft so that he penetrates my G-spot and I moan in a mini-orgasm of pleasure.
He rocks me and rides me on the love-seat, grabbing my waist and thighs, pulling me onto his throbbing and pulsing manhood, pounding me so hard and deep that our pubic bones collide, knocking me into submission with every deep and penetrating thrust he stabs into me.
His rhythm begins to rise, his tempo changes, getting faster, and I can sense his urgency. He grips my waist harder, hard enough to leave bruises, and he’s lifting my hips off the love seat as he pulls onto his love-muscle and in three savage and brutally penetrating thrusts he orgasms deep inside my sex, deep inside my pussy and G-spot, bellowing into the room. He keeps thrusting even after his orgasm and I climax in a long trembling, back arching orgasm that causes me to put scratches into his love handles as I clutch his waist in a love-clasp.
He’s still hard so I lead him to the shower, casually asking him, “What does G.R. stand for?” He squeezes my hand and says, “My first name is Gordon,” in a cultured Scottish accent.