Extract from NEVER ENOUGH

 

 

Back at the house, he found Celeste standing in the kitchen - naked - watching the coffee machine dispense her favourite latte into a tall, slender, handled-glass. Instantly, her round rumps caused his penis to twitch.

"You're fucking sexy, as always," he said, admiring her impressive physique.

Celeste Amore - that was probably not her real name - was thirty-six, if he could believe her, but had no reason to doubt her word. Slim, five-foot seven-inches tall, she possessed a fabulous figure, a curvaceous 37-25-33.

"It's a fucking good job I am sexy otherwise a dirty old man like you would not be paying to screw me," she riposted, turning around to face him, impishly grinning, holding her glass mug in her right hand.

Barry was sixty, and an unrestrained lecher.

Pushing her shoulders back, she waggled her chest, causing her impressive, natural double-Ds to jiggle wonderfully.

Invitingly, she made a show of slithering her feet further apart, fully exposing her tightly-cropped-V of brown pubic hair, pointing as it did to the plump-peach that was the entrance to her vagina.

His penis swelled to hardness, the remnants of last night's Viagra no doubt assisting. Testosterone was usually enough for him - but he just liked the boast that modern medicine could give so that he could, when he wanted, be rampant for most of the night - what most prostitutes considered to be a nightmare.

Stepping up to her, he cupped her breasts. Hazel eyes twinkling, she fluttered her false eyelashes, and nonchalantly raised her glass to her lips, taking a sip, trying, no doubt, to convey something of a playful detachment. Celeste was undoubtedly something of a commensurate actress - a high-class escort needing good acting skills.

Bending forwards, lowering his head, he set to sucking on her perfectly-round, two-inch wide, coral-pink areola.

"You dirty beast," she jested, before taking another sip of her latte.

Using her spare hand, she deftly pulled down the zipper of his red-cotton shorts. Popping the button, she peeled the flaps to one side. Her fingers eased the top of his underpants down, tucking the elastic under his ball-sack, allowing his now-yearning stiff muscle the freedom to expand to its unencumbered maximum nine inches.

Hardly love making, Barry knew, but he eagerly thrust his rod into her. It was heaven. Warm and wet, she was clearly ready. There again, he had always found that Celeste could self-lubricate in an instant, whenever they were going to fornicate.

She was his favourite professional whore. Foolish though it maybe, he believed that she looked on him as her favourite client - certainly her most demanding, dirtiest client, but one she knew paid generously. They had just spent Friday, Saturday & Sunday indulging in numerous bouts of carnal activity.

"You're amazing, you randy goat," Celeste said, affectionately. "Hell, if all my clients were like you I'd be shagged out most of the time."