This morning I awoke in the quiet hours of the night in a sex induced stupor. My new neighbor has a dog that barks at night when she lets him out to tinkle. Poor thing barks for several minutes when he’s ready to go back in. Eventually, I hear the screen door slam and drift away thinking about dogs, which reminds me of my love of cats. Needless to say, I didn’t drift back off and wound up thinking through the night, which led to journaling and smoking that big fat bud from my fancy glass bong. I had treated myself years ago and bought it from Mushroom up on Broadway, near Tulane University. Sun was coming up, and I was achy and grumpy when I finally gave up on sleep around 6:15 am. The previous day was extremely busy and it seemed like I sucked every swinging dick in New Orleans. Today I was paying for it.
The cat meows a little too disrespectfully, and I tell her she’d best not start with me as I pour food into her bowl. I turned on the burner under the tea kettle on the stove and walked to the front door. Dressed in a navy skinny tee and some flesh-colored bike shorts, barefoot with my hair and a rat’s nest, I open the door and take a deep breath. It’s getting hotter, and I thank the universe because the sixth-month construction project on my street is ending. Staring at fluffy clouds passing gracefully across my New Orleans sky, I began thinking about all I have to do. I decided to take care of my hustles was the direction to head into.
Most of the time, when I feel a moment of energy and creative spark, it’s best I get busy on the writing projects and photography I keep putting off. However, more times than I can count I am interrupted by requests for phone sex with horny men holed up in their bathrooms, or rained out, lonely in their hotel rooms. Yesterday, I managed to squeeze a regular into my schedule. He’s the spontaneous type and was looking to snatch a little of my time. I like being productive, and I’m not complaining, but I wanted to disappear into my stories and create rather than be seductive and alluring.
I love me this way best. I love when my brain feels like it’s sizzling, and all I want to accomplish is possible. That’s the perfectionist in me, and on the other end of all this creativity is the Scorpio who has trouble switching gears in a hurry. I do love what I do and if it was possible to spend the majority of my time sucking cock I’d sure try. Who am I kidding, though? I need to make writing and photography more of my job as the years roll past me and remind me that I need to pivot. As I closed the door, I decided to masturbate and help myself relax before I get caught up in the day. “Dammit!” I swore aloud and bemoaned my fate, “My vibrator isn’t charged.”
Clients, new clients, young guys with cream-filled cocks longing for the opportunity to unload their engorged goodness into the woman who will oblige them, feel free to reach out most days. “I have an addiction,” I say this with a note of insistence, which makes me feel instantly self-aware and use the revelation for a teachable moment. I’m stoned from the stank reefer I smoked for breakfast, but I can still work. A client was kind enough to share some of his heavy-hitting, Mississippi medical weed. If you’ve ever had the opportunity to partake in some tasty herb with a friend or a hoe like me, some people become philosophical, whether they realize it or not. Sometimes I write in a pad I keep near my herb. When I am with the muses, writing and creating with high amounts of THC influencing my thoughts, I am positively prophetic. I am struck by absolute genius, and every word I write is a gift. Not exactly. My body feels looser when I smoke, and that’s about it. Loose. Just like my morals.
Medical weed is stronger than a lot of buds, and it leads to the dark corners of my fragile little mind. I needed a redirection in the form of a bulbous, runny cock. The universe was paying attention and granted a reward which came in the form of a friendly text. “Jilly! I filled out your contact form on your website, and I’d like to meet you at your earliest convenience. I know you like to talk on the phone before meeting, and I know I would like to talk to you.” I scanned his email and detected a bit of whimsy in the way he wrote to me. So far, he has honored my requests. I felt myself getting wet, and my body temperature began to rise.
The screening process is really a tap dance. Or, it is rather a dance of wills, but only in the best way. Guys who refuse to send a LinkedIn account or a provider’s name must not want to make me feel comfortable, and it must be difficult for them to see things from my point of view. From the guy whose wife has seen his late-night texts to a prostitute and doesn’t want to get caught again, to the newbie who has read my blog and maybe seen my Only Fans, he might not cooperate even though he knows I won’t do him any harm. This man doesn’t have to respect the fact that I invite him to my home, give him access to my entire person, and offer him refreshment and a shower when he’s done with me. Sadly, the fumbling is what is my first impression of this kind of man is about and once this letdown is complete I no longer want to fuck him.
Luckily for him, this new prospect must have wanted to have a sensual experience in the middle of the day, just like he was promised in whatever ad or ads I had created to lure men online. After scanning his email and the information he provided, I guessed he had nothing to lose, wanted me, and obviously knows how to pick ‘em. Quickly, I texted back, “Can you call me?” After our chat, which took barely three minutes, we made a date. I knew I would have to redirect fairly quickly. I don’t mind because this is the life I have chosen, my shop is open, and he sounds confident. Good golly! It’s not even 9:00 am and I have a live one!
A feeling of anticipation washed over me for what I felt would be a mutual appreciation of one another. I decided to take a shower and redo my makeup because he was so darn nice. Stepping into the tub, I turned the shower on. As the water spritzed across my nipples, I felt them as they grew erect and tingled. I slathered my body with soap and used a brush to exfoliate my elbows, knees, and heels. Adjusting the shower head, I lie on my back as the water takes direct aim below the bikini line. Touching my labia and thrusting a finger into my tender hole, I pull my legs back towards my hips so that the stream pounds my clit, clenching my vagina for maximum pleasure.
Not wanting to get carried away in the pleasure I was giving to myself, I came to and expertly stepped out of the tub and dried myself off. My phone is nearby and is beeping. His text reads “I’m stuck in traffic and will be about fifteen minutes late.” That’s just fine by me, and I appreciate the heads up. I need more time to get ready anyway, and he scores more points by keeping me in the loop. I comb my wet hair and slap some makeup on my face in less than five minutes. I know how to get ready in a hurry, and I wanted to make a good impression on this man who seems mighty masculine and has one of those official-sounding voices. I hope he is as good as I am manifesting..
I hear Ella meowing at the back door just as he texts that he’s parked and needs the house number. She must have run out when I wasn’t looking, standing at the front door earlier. “Sorry, Ella, you will just have to wait. Momma’s got to go to work.” I purposefully make my way to the door and stand motionless, watching for his outline through the frosted glass. I want to get a feel for him before we meet. I step back a few feet so that he cannot see my silhouette on the other side of him. I watch as he opens the gate at the sidewalk, closes it, and bounds up my stairs. He knocks on the door confidently. I stay still and take in the fact that I lured him over to my pad and evaluate him through the glass. I take in how tall and robust he is standing on the other side, staring straight at me. This is very appealing even though I’m dead dog tired. I count to thirty, step forward, and as I open the door, I breathe out silently.
“How are you, Jilly?” He says. Smiling and with all his teeth bared, his eyes scan me frontways and sideways. I repeat, “Hello and welcome to my home.” Then he leans into me for what I thought was going to be a kiss, but instead I feel fingers dive below the sash on my black robe straight into my honey pot. As I surrender, his thick fingers pull me towards him as if he were handling a bowling ball. He tells me, “I’ve wanted to do this with you for years.” I’m sure I blushed from the top of my head and down to my toes. He lets go of my wonder puss and sticks those shameless fingers into my mouth. I notice that I taste a lot like peaches and wonder why. Struggling to get a foothold on this situation and a measure of control, I kiss him with the taste of me on my breath. As I stick my tongue in his mouth, I assert my dominance as I enjoy his acquiescence. I tell myself, “Just keep dancing and stay in control no matter what.” I look at him with soft, dreamy eyes, take his hand, and in unison we walk to the back of the house and into the bedroom.
Clothes are coming off, and his tongue is down my throat again. Hands are touching me, purposely, and I’m beginning to think he might be a handful, but I know that I can handle him no matter how hungry he appears. He stands before me naked and grinning. Gently, he puts his arm around my waist, turns me around to face the bed. Standing behind me, I can feel his enormous erection in between my thighs. He pulls me closer and whispers into my ear, “I’m going to make love to you.” I turn around to face him. As I look into his eyes, he takes my head in his hands and kisses me like it’s been years. To be wanted is such a sweet thing, and he’s making me feel like I’m the only woman in the world. I am going to suck this dick until he falls in love with me.
Coming up for air, he turns me around and forces me down onto the bed. I love how he seems to know how to put me at ease. I don’t know about other women, but when a man is this confident and able-bodied, I breathe out in an exhale of relief and anticipation. “He’s going to worship me.” I think this and also “His cock is fat,” as he thrusts his face into my ass. I just close my eyes and let him explore my curves, squeeze my pale pink tits and get to know me as I am right now without inhibition..
“I love this ass.” He purrs. He roots with his nose and chin deeply and begins knocking on my back door, using his tongue. Wow! “This motherfucker has an edge,” I exclaim silently as I pretend to like what he’s doing. I give him an “Oh yeah Baby” so that he feels encouraged by what is mostly a selfless act. He wants to get involved with me in a real and personal way. I want him to know I appreciate his efforts. This also means I will have to kiss him now with my smell on his face. I think I’m going to have to take over. “Let me suck you now!” I whimper.
Pushing me up onto the bed, he proceeds to lie in the middle, and I get on my belly, spread his legs, and start slowly bringing his erection back with my skillful mouth and tongue. My eyes meet his, and radiate acceptance and compassion. I want him to understand he’s safe and I’m enjoying his newness. I’m also moving this hour-long affair into overdrive because I have clients lined up after this one, and we don’t have time to go down the wrong hole. If you catch my meaning.
“Suck my cock Jilly.” He moans sensually from a place of deep satisfaction. I like giving pleasure in a way that has served me best as a prostitute. I have always been sort of a people pleaser and although I like riding a bare cock, I only allow men to rub their cocks against my clit in an attempt to arouse the sleeping beast inside of him. However, I’ll only go so far. Some clients push your limits and I think it's fair to say that I’m just a woman who needs to fuck. I have to silence her so I won’t get carried away. As I straddle him now, his hands grip the flesh on the sides of my hips, and he pulls me forward and backward on top of his, what I affectionately call a “chub.” He’s sort of hard, but not exactly. Grinding makes him grow, and when he is sufficiently hard, I dismount and reach for the condom lying on the dresser.
He comes to and announces groggily, “I’d like to eat you first.” Momentarily stunned by this request, I switch gears and add, “I’d love that.” Switching places with me, I lie down in the middle of the bed, and he takes his place, now on his belly and in between my legs. “I want to make you cum all over my face, Baby.” He offers this scenario, which has now crept into my thoughts, and while I was raring to slap that condom on and ride him like the stallion he is, I decide patience is golden and let him give this to me. As he licks my labia I allow myself to drift away and he makes me extra wet for his cock.
He’s licking me too well, and I begin to struggle under the weight of his hands, pulling me closer to his face. I don’t know why, but sometimes when cunninglingus is this good I feel myself trying to escape the clutches of the man who holds me up by my ass, face implanted in the pussy, and eating me like a Washington Parish watermelon. I attempt to pull myself backwards toward the headboard, but he’s too strong. “Christ!” I blurt out a little louder than I intended and consider that this tap dance has become a tango as he advances and I retreat and he advances until I decide to let him guide me and not make such a fuss because he knows me and there’s no fooling him. I won’t cum for him though.
This sex has taken a different turn, and while I’m not in imminent danger, I am yielding to a man who wants to be as familiar with me as he can get away with. Gratefully, he doesn’t push bareback, and that is a relief. I am highly aroused, nonetheless, and somewhat leery of his intentions. After all, we’ve only just met. Out of the corner of my eye, his phone, lying on my director’s chair, lights up with a series of texts. I can see that it is a quarter to the hour and we have successfully had forty-five minutes of foreplay. I need to take over and make him cum, but he’s in La La land and isn’t paying attention.
I grab his wrists and force him to roll over onto his back. I straddle him once more for what will be our finale. He kind of resists, but I can tell he needs to blow in something and pretty quickly. As I scoot back onto my knees, I spread his legs and lie on my tummy. I’m either going to suck him off or throw a condom on him and ride him until he screams so loudly my neighbors will hear. He’s growing harder in my mouth, and I cup his balls in my right hand to heighten his arousal and provide a little comfort to a man in a vulnerable position. His engorged sack grows heavy with cum and I slip a ball into my mouth, licking a slurping him as I use my left hand to jack him off.
Grunting and pleading and sweating, his eyes beseech me to put him back inside my mouth. I lean down again on my knees and put his swollen penis into my mouth again just in time for him to explode. As he’s cumming, I as poised and ready to receive his milky load. Cum shoots past my teeth and gums to the back of my throat. I leap off the bed and rinse out in the bathroom sink. He lies still for a few minutes, deflated and breathing heavily. Then he gets up and points to the bathroom. I nod back at him and smile. He and I make chit chat as we dress, but I can tell that he’s ready to go and his lust has been sated. Sometimes a man will desire a women so fiercely, have her and lose interest right after he’s fucked her. He and I walk to the front door, and he says, “I appreciate this today. You are amazing and I appreciate your patience with me.” I do love a man who was brought up right. I raise on tip toes and kiss his right cheek. I tell him, “I hope we meet again.” Without missing a beat, he adds, “Oh! I’ll be seeing you again.”