My Teacher’s Name Was Rose As Well
When he crosses the space to greet me, meeting me in the soft-light centre of the introduction area, I can see he has a tattooed rose on his muscular right shoulder. Like a Valentino lover his hair is combed back, and he has a thin moustache matching soulful brown eyes; he wears a white sleeveless button-up shirt, like he tore the sleeves off himself, and blue designer jeans that can’t hide the bulge in his crotch. Immediately lustful, the thirty-something lets me know it is all about myself, Rose, voluptuous first-class escort beauty here at Le Penthouse Suite, the Gold Coast’s premiere bordello.
Our first kiss is a peck on my black gloss lips when he leans in to make first contact, gently squeezing my delicate hand and inhaling deeply the scent of my lustrous black hair, and like a lover from a romance novel he whispers, “Oriental beauty, I have crossed a lifetime to find you again.” I wonder for a moment what he is talking about, or perhaps if he is slightly unhinged, for we have never met before, but he continues the thought, “You look just like her, my music teacher in high school, and her name was Rose as well.”
As we make our way up to suite one, the deluxe boudoir with plush furnishings and a king-sized double, with marble Jacuzzi and gold-fitted shower stall to heighten the experience, I can feel his eyes appraising every last part of me. From my elegant stiletto heels and fish-net stockings which accentuate the curvature of my legs, and garter belt and transparent black G-string, which enhance the sway of my hips and the plump swell of my buttocks, to the black half-cup brassiere which is partly covered by the sweep of my lustrously long and dark hair, yet transparent enough to reveal fulsome breasts that all my clients enjoy touching and tasting.
He walks close behind me and as we ascend the short flight of stairs, he dares to touch my hand on the railing, and the frisson of desire between us lets me know we are both aware of the mounting anticipation of the encounter to come. I lean back into him just for a moment as we approach the door, and his sharp intake of breath and continued hardness in his crotch is a like a fuel that propels us through the door and into suite one.
Framed by the closed door behind him, he immediately unbuttons his shirt, and starts to take his jeans off, steadily advancing towards me as he undresses, myself taking small steps back towards the bed, because it is routine for the girls to make the bed with the fresh linen that is placed on the firm mattress of the king-sized double.
I decide to play, and try to ignore his immediate fondling of my breasts, his insistent nuzzling of my neck and inhalations of my perfumed hair, his strong hands reaching for my tight hairless pussy, already trying to pull away the G-string so he can have access to my sex. I giggle and say, “Wait a minute lover-boy, I have to make the bed,” but he is now kissing my face and pressing his fully revealed erection, bone hard, against my stomach and all over the small of my back and swell of my buttocks as I turn and start tucking the clean satin sheets into the mattress.
“You look just like her,” he a says this again to me as he holds me from behind, whispering intensely into my ear, and I reach back and grip his thick length and squeeze hard, once, twice, and he moans, and then I start stroking his manhood with one hand and finish tucking in the last corner of the sheet with the other. “My music teacher was my fantasy all through high school, and here you are again, after a decade … “
With the bed made he pushes me face first onto the smooth firm surface, and then turns me over, helping to spread my legs, kissing the insides of my thighs and then burying his face into my G-string crotch, eating my sex, sucking my pussy lips through the transparent fabric already moist from my own arousal. The exquisite cunnilingus has me whimpering expressions of bliss, with my hands buried in his thick brown hair, and my legs hooked over his shoulders, stiletto heels still on, garter belt and stockings now pulled down. He moves the crotch of my G-string aside so that now his bare-lips and tongue are sucking and licking my clitoris and mini-orgasms begin to quiver through my sex and body.
And then his urgency steps up to a ravenous lust that finds him moving up my torso, kissing a path from my exposed pussy, along my stomach, pausing to suck my exposed nipples because my brassiere has been discarded in the moments of heat, and then to place deep sucking kisses on my neck and face.
The feel of his glistening erection as he drags its deeply engorged head along the inside of my thigh, tracing a line of pre-cum to the point where my the slight gape of my pussy lips is an invitation to penetrate my sex, momentarily reminds me that we need protection.
“Wait,” I push him back off me and then reach for a condom packet on the bedside table. I tear it open and he follows my cue and gets up on to his knees, straddling my thighs, so I can suck and roll the prophylactic onto his throbbing shaft.
With a momentary bite that elicits a short grunt, maybe a little too hard, onto his erection, I finish placing protection on his manhood and I start to pull off my G-string as he positions himself again for the final consummation of our lust. “Leave them on,” he says this aggressively, “And leave your stilettos on too, my music teacher always wore stilettos.”
And then he places the head of his thick throbbing shaft along the groove of my tight pussy, rubs it up and down my pussy lips and into my clitoris, finds the opening and with a silent pop penetrates my sex, pushing deep, immediately deeper, and then thrusting his hips into me over and over and over, plunging his manhood into my sex, resisting the clamp of my inner sugar walls.
It is endless moments of blissful lust, and then our classic missionary position coitus begins to crescendo as his desire becomes manic, and his hands grip my thighs and buttocks pulling me into each thrust, looking for that secret sex centre, until he finds it, my G-spot, and in three stabbing motions of his thick length he orgasms a groan of total release into the room.
But we are not close to finished, because he is still rock hard and I am yet to climax so I keep pulling him into me, pulling him into me …
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