A small droplet of pee becomes a trickle and then a stream racing down my labia and into the toilet I’m sitting upon. Oddly enough this arouses a memory of the same sensation, but when I was a younger woman who was hungry for more and satisfied at the same time by the feeling of something, anything touching my vagina. I’m hungry still for someone’s new fingers exploring and probing my most delicate attribute and as I tear toilet paper off of the roll and blot my hole I think about the client who’s on his way and how much I like his fingers, his attention to detail and his patience with me. Always intimate and very focused and in the moment I find myself almost giddy and a little nervous as I pick up the house, mop, scrub the bathroom clean and tell myself to relax because it’s not like you haven’t seen him before. He comes as often as he can, but not like before Covid because someone decided that remote conventions are better. These days a great deal of the work force wants to stay home than get out of their onesies and come to the office and work as a team because of their anxiety, social phobias or whatever they tell themselves hiding away in dimly lit apartments believing the narrative of how their mother gaslit them. She is why they cannot work with others. Ugh! When will the obsession with ourselves end and we can go back to the way it was before when men were men, conventions brought in horny clients and it was okay because working girls like me were happy to receive them? As I wipe the kitchen counter I think of my own millennial who I gave birth to thirty one years ago. Although he is not as screwed up as he could have been, meaning he’s not into hard drugs and can keep a job, I cannot imagine being a son of mine and his tragic, drug addled father has been easy even if we don’t speak of these things. I do remember telling him that we all have to do for ourselves at some point and I think he’s finally received that message as he ages further into his prime. He is somewhat bitter and does blame me for just about everything, but I know he’ll mature. After he is knocked around enough by the world with its lofty expectations of who he should be, he will lighten up about the fact that this is all there is and trying to control situations because you don’t like conflict is futile and a waste of a life. Then and only then will he give me a small personal break. In the meantime I occupy my thoughts with clients and the other projects I’m working on for my future. I need a really good fuck today. As of late I’ve been rolling joints, or rather, cones because it’s easier than cleaning my bongs. In the upstairs den now I pull a cone out of its box, stuff it with a freshly ground sativa and enjoy this ritual as I think on the exquisite pleasure I will receive in less than an hour. Some clients you meet you can’t remember their name after the deed is done and some of them are hard to forget. Mr. R is my kind of man. Salt and pepper from head to toe, tall “ish” and a really good kisser. He’s the kind of guy who would laugh if I tried to put a condom on his delectable cock for a blow job. He eats my pussy like a dinner course with several courses and the first being French pate. Soft and exploratory at first and then creative and imaginative in ways that move me personally. I’m very grateful at this age that there are men who desire me so much they reach out by text to talk and connect when they cannot be in town. When they are in town sometimes they’ve come just to see me. He’s my age and we have many things in common with one being that our relationships with our children are virtually non existent. In his case his ex practiced systematic parental alienation and his child was always confused and felt guilty for having a good time when in his care. In my case, my ex was was a walking nightmare and I was only left with the option of moving out of state to give my son a peaceful childhood. However, as much as I did to teach him about how to treat others and what life is all about he has his father’s genes and you really can’t fight that. At least I can say wholeheartedly and indubitably that I tried. I’ve attracted men and women throughout my life who might have taken advantage of my kindnesses and good graces, but Mr. R always gives back to me in ways that surprise me. More than grateful for his sexual heat and tenderness, he gives me comfort and I am able to truly be myself in that moment if we’re talking or if I’m sucking his great big juicy sack. Sex with him is a rebirth and I believe every time we are together our coupling brings us peace and acceptance not only of each other, but of ourselves for our lives have seen similar losses and we don’t trust others easily. Smoking my blunt and petting my cat Ella, I stuff two more cones full of herb I plan on smoking with my guest. I head to the bathroom, splash my face with water and brush my teeth. I fill my claw footed bathtub full of water and add some bath salts gifted to me by a client who used to come more often. I cock my leg up onto the edge of the tub and with some non acetone polish remover I douse a cotton ball and rub my favorite pink polish off of my toenails. I want to look like I have it together when he comes. So, I plan on reapplying a new coat after my salty bath because he deserves fresh toes. I undress and slip down into the steaming water. I scrub my toes with my washcloth and shave my legs. He’s not a fussy fellow and I doubt he’d really care if I’m not perfectly groomed, but I do and even if he doesn’t say so I’m going to assume looking my best won’t kill his appetite. Rubbing lotion into my body now I think about how soft his hands are and how they feel kneading my soft and freckled shoulders and back and legs and ass and hips. Oh my! Back to reality now I apply my makeup at the bathroom sink, brush and style my hair and reapply my pink polish to my toenails. I tell Ella I’ll be back later, grab the two joints and head downstairs. Wearing just a beach coverup that looks like a big red and cream scarf I decide I’m ready. He will be here soon and I place the joints in an inherited China bread and butter plate and place it on the coffee table downstairs. As I sit on my couch and wait for him a song by country great, Merle Haggard with his sexy and deeply poetic baritone growls on my Spotifly playlist. “Not knowin’ where I’m bound And no one could change my mind but Mama tried.” It’s a song that I’ve heard a thousand times and I can’t help but think about my own mother and my grandmother who loved his music. If you are lucky you have had women and men in your life who put you first at times when it was impossible for them to move forward on some days. I’ve known that kind of love for my own child and if we don’t speak for a while I know that like the mama’s that put in the work to make me who I am I was able to rise to the occasion and do the same for my own blonde, beautiful boy. When I was younger this song made me sad and I recall my grandma singing it gently as we watched Merle on a TV show way back when. Now I sing these words as prayer because time has taught me that it is okay to enjoy the moments in my life even if I may or may not have failed someone I love. I don’t feel regret and I accept who I am and what I’ve done. It’s taken me a long time to get here and with that the doorbell rings. Transfixed momentarily, I rise and head to the front door. He walks in and sweeps me up in his tight embrace. Showering me with kisses from his great big chubby lips I bury my head into his chest and feel gratitude. I take his hand and lead him to the downstairs bedroom where I’ve led countless men before. He undresses quickly and gently slides my drape off my shoulders and I watch as it swirls onto the floor. I take a second and notice how big his feet are next to mine and instantly feel safe. In his creamiest and deepest purr he says “put this in your mouth.” I giggle as I look at his hand shaking his cock towards me like as if it was bait and I’m the cum slut he’s about to catch. Just take me in hand is all you have to do. He pulls me on top of him as he flops back first onto my queen sized mattress. My head is swimming and for a minute I close my eyes as he kisses me deeply, rolls over on top of me, sticks a great big finger into my throbbing hole and sticks it up to my mouth for me to suck it clean. I’m tingling now and as I slip down into between his legs onto my belly, I tell him to scooch up so I can suck him properly. Sucking the cock I know so well I begin to drift away to a happier place where sliding my mouth up and down onto this sizzling shaft drives me further into a whirl of ecstasy and perhaps a oxytocin high in my frontal lobe. He moans as he tells me to suck him slower and I thrust this cock further into my throat and just let it rest for a few minutes as he grows larger and larger in my mouth. He tells me he wants to fuck and he flips me under him as he climbs on top of my belly and begins thrusting his cock in and out of my fresh sea salt bath pussy. I cream and cream and as he continues pumping me at one point I begin squirting all over his rock hard cock and my clean sheets. As he nears his climax he pauses and says he wants me to lick my squirt off of his cock. With me still under him he moves his body forward and his cock up to my mouth. I wrap my lips around his messy rod, feel endorphins paddling inside my head out into the open water of an ocean full of bewilderment and once I clean up this mess his flips me over and pulls me up onto my knees. He wants to fuck me from behind and I as I stuff a pillow under my tummy for support he’s ramming himself into my hole for another round. He tells me that he loves my little hole and that he wants to fill it up with all his cum. He asks “do you want me to fill you up Baby?” I beg “this is your pussy and I want your cum.” As I lift my ass up higher to meet his thrusts his growls and whimpers become deeper and mysterious in color. I feel like he’s nearing what I have affectionately labeled “beast mode” and cumming is eminent. I love that he’s taking his time and I know when he does blow it will be monumentally satisfying for both of us. The good thing is he’ll take about fifteen minutes and we’ll do it all over again. So, when he does finish I will be sufficiently ragged out and I won’t have a care in the world. And with that he shutters and calls my name out from a very deep place in his core. I’m feeling all he’s feeling and his heat and intensity makes my knees buckle. We collapse onto the mattress with him still inside of me as he is the kind who wants to feel each pulse of his orgasm. When I can no longer breathe I tell him to roll over and in one swift motion he scoops me up and places me in a spoon position. Legs intertwined and arms wrapped around me I rest and inhale and exhale our scents. After a few minutes of silence I raise my head up and ask “do you have another one in you?”
Have a Jilly day!
