Ode To A Cali Courtesan Ch. 02

Here is how my ego frames the issue...I cannot resist the whores I train, nor the girls I train. They want to learn!

They want to grow in power.

I teach them how to have utter power over a man. And they love that.

And all I am is honest and a good teacher of what men - at least assholes like me -- want.

And there are so many assholes like me - ha!

I turn to the side and look in the I-Pad monitor (Megan is obsessed with I-Pads) and I watch Megan tend to my asshole, her gorgeous blonde hair cascading all over my ass and spilling down my thighs. As she paints my crack with the liquid from her mouth, and jacks me from below on this incredible chair, I muse on life and women and sex and my romance with my new girlfriend.

My cock grows more rigid and feels cool with the evaporating saliva below, all exposed.

It's quite a sensation.

No, it won't last long, if history is a guide, my sex with Lauren.

By 40 the average woman is rightfully furious at the male of the species, and her worshipping days are through. Men are pig dogs and she has discovered it.

Some men are not, but most of them are castrated. It can be a wise way to keep a marriage.

Women should stay away from the likes of me -- and I'm sure the truly healthy ones do! I would recommend it.

As Megan licks my ass, I give up a prayer of gratitude for having Lauren as a girlfriend right now -- and try to treasure the fact that I can sample her for just a little while! And hope I am giving Laura a proper education in both sex and the culture of the mind as I partake.

"This is something I must teach my girlfriend," I murmur happily.

Of course I probably never will get anywhere NEAR this point with Lauren in her sexual education -- the good little girl from Glendale! I haven't been able to teach her a damn thing yet, frankly. That it is a question more of time than will is not something Megan needs to know.

I want Megan to feel appreciated. Because I DO appreciate her so much!

Her warm tongue comes out of my ass and she looks up.

"Bring her here," Megan says thickly, "and I will show her how."

That's a thought. I nearly laugh thinking of Lauren's face when I tell her we're going to see my whore. Poor Catholic sweetheart! She would die of embarrassment...

"Some people are not as adventurous as you, Megan." I say.

She grins. "That is true." She goes back to eating out my ass.

What lasts, oddly, is mercantile sexual passion, for, even if it is bought passion, a passion ignited by money, it is more dependable and lasts longer than pure romantic lust. In my experience, of course.

Of course, I may be unusual for a man, many men are undoubtedly far more virtuous than me.

.And I suppose thinking this way makes me just a shallow male. Who adores his whore on a single, sunny afternoon of such pleasure that he will enshrine it in prose.

Megan curls her body down.

"Okay, now the cock hunger is too great. I've got to eat your cock now again more, Roger," she says plaintively. "Thank you for letting me spend time sucking your asshole. Thank you Master. But I can smell pre-cum all anointing your cock head and I need it, it is my passion," her voice cracks humbly. "I just cannot believe I am getting to spend all this time with your beautiful cock and oh it is hardening now, sir, oh, it is hardening, my cock, my cock, my Master..."

She crawls under the chaise.

She does it expertly -- and of course, she is!

I feel her mouth coming up to lip my cock.

Like an udder bag, my cock hangs down and she sucks at it.

The warm sensation, combined with the cool leather of the rest of the chair, is slayingly good.

I can see her in the side mirror, her mouth going up to worship suck my cock.

I can feel the rhythm, feel the sucking cock.

It is exactly like being milked -- like I am a cow being expertly milked by a maid who loves to suck the udder bag of the cow to take the milk directly.

It's a perfect sensation.

"Stop or I'll come!" I gasp, before I even really can feel my body, the sun fire has grown so great so suddenly.

Instantly she comes off the cock.

She gives a small groan, and I see in the side mirror of the near wall next to the patio door that her hands come up to hold my cock so she can speak and keep it near her.

"I like your affirmations better than money today." she pauses. "I need the boost. "

She tongues around the bottom of the balls, taking little nips of scrotal skin, worrying it. Her left hand curls around my slack cock, slowly rolling it.

"How many times have you had sex this week, Master?" she asks me, staring at the cock rudely jutting down above her lips.

"Four." I murmur.

She laughs. "I so don't believe you."

I cock a frowning eyebrow at her.

"Listen. It's Friday. And - why wouldn't you believe me?" I ask her.

"You? With your appetite?"

"Look, I told you I've stopped masturbating."

She giggles.

"It's true, honey," I say, irritated. Because it IS true.

"LOOK, Megan. I need to have a live woman. So four is not a lot."

"With how many women?"

"Just two. My wife and my girlfriend."

"What about your mistress?"

Megan knows a lot about my life.

"We're fighting," I mururm.

She giggles.

I chuckle.

"This cock is so desired," she mutters. "She probably is angry it is not hers alone. Stupid girl."

"The thing is, Megan?" I don't know why I am telling her this, but I like to. So few people know the truth about me. And since Megan doesn't really know my name, I am paradoxically inclined to be completely intimate with her.

"Maybe someday I will get you together with Lauren. We will see."

"Where do you fuck your new young girlfriend -- at her house?:

"No. At a hotel, usually."

"Maauha. Is it a nice hotel?"

She guzzles my cock. One hand sleeving it, suckling it up and down.

She watches it, observing it, loving it.

Very. It's usually the Santa Barbara Four Seasons or if I'm in LA, the Regency Beverly Wilshire -- but the concierges there gossip a lot and what if I bring my wife sometime?

I don't want to tell Megan the specifics.

"Yes." I say.

I feel my cock engulfed in her warm mouth again, and I look down and hold onto the leash, my fingers through the slave collar chain droop.

She emphasizes her obeisance with a puckered, wet and amorous kiss of my cockhead, smashing the helmeted lip of it against her own lips and slurping.

She backs off. "I want to put olive oil on the shaft," she says, hoarse, just staring at the pipe in her hands. "I want to see how the oil outlines the foreskin and the tube, how it makes it shimmer."

i reach down with my own arm going around the chaise, reaching under it, and pull her head onto my cock, tilting her head this way and that, holding the cock and trying to push the foreskin and head into her mouth like trying to push a worm into a bottle -- she instantly sucks but I order her now.

I slap her face lightly and say coldly,

"Don't suck. Just let me push it in."

Instantly she goes rigid and stops moving to allow me free play.

I hold onto the base of the full length of hard cock, which is all I can reach with this damned hole between us -- which is starting to annoy me now, not pleasure me - and shove it into her softly working, pleading mouth.

It is not yet the cum ramrod pole, but that is coming. I can feel the spark in my asshole, blooming forward, the wet saliva from her tongue feeling and making my ass cheeks slide like Teflon across each other, a delicious slipperiness.

I am humping in the chair now. The cool sensation of the couch contrasting to the warmth of her tunneling mouth below.

I see her below me in profile

Her eyes raise up to the cock underneath, her hands down on the carpet to keep her head up to the cock- earnestly searching, alert to any change or twinge from the heavy cock that hangs down, keeping her mouth taut, alert to any change in order.

It is now growing iron hard, and the true cocksucking should be about to start. And it won't be - I don't want to come with her under the chaise, milking me like this. I want her head in my hands, so I can head fuck her, holding her wet blonde hair like a bridle, watching the cock spear in and out.

This second come? This time I want a little more violence.

This cock play is where one separates the true love artist from the amateur.

And I have taught Megan harsh lessons to make her a professional.

"Megan, honey, I love this milking, but it's just about time to face fuck you."

"Oh, please, master, please!" she cries, taking her head off the cock for a moment, then plunging back up onto it.

I stand up suddenly, straddling the chaise, and pull her by the chain from under the chaise. She comes eagerly out from under,scrambling, her knees spreading as her head hunts for my cock again as she gets on her knees before me.

I help her by grabbing both ears, softly, and then my right hand goes under her chin to tilt it up just right.

We are still next to the chaise, by the sliding doors. I can see her in two sets of mirrors.

She adjusts her knees on the carpet, pushing them further apart, scissoring them open to get at the height and angle that I want.

"I haven't decided where to face fuck you yet, but let's just have a minute here, a private moment, just your mouth and my cock."

I plunge into her mouth, fisting her hair, feeling her knees lever up and down, her hands going behind her head, as she clasps her hands behind her back subserviently.

"You lovely little bitch," I gasp. "I going to make you cry and scream with this head fuck."

I pull the cock out of her mouth with a pop. and her head rolls back, her eyes wild.

"Oh GOD!" she cries.

I squeeze either side of her head.

I thrust in and out of her mouth, as her head tilts back and forth, lips agape, holding me loosely, exposing teeth and inner mouth on each thrust, her head just a doll for me to skull fuck.

"I'll tell you what you need," I say, and she makes a wild, joyful assenting moan, rocking back and forth on her heels, her swollen lips frantically trying to keep the cock sealed inside her mouth, but I pull out too far for that to happen on my backstrokes.

"Ahhh wahhh ahhhh."

I slap her cheek hard enough so that she is stung by it. Her eyes blink. There is no pain, really -- I would never do that. I don't enjoy inflicting real pain. Only theatrical pain.

"You need to be whipped," I laugh. "Just for fun. No pain."

"A little pain is how I learn, Roger, oh, pleasssseeee...."

Her head forced off the dick, my hand palming the crown and pushing her back, she submits to the fact she can't suck right now by dropping her eyes bashfully to the carpet, and her voice trails off as I tighten her leash...

I yank her head back and step forward, squashing her under my crotch, pulling her head back until her head tilts under the cock.

She is grateful for new cock and ass.

Her eyes stay on the bottom glistening foreskin, her mouth crying out, her neck bowing all the way back.

"Maaffjffj" she moans, her mouth annealing to my ass.

I pull her head back again, stepping forward so her mouth is pressed even more into my ass crack. Now she is mostly behind me, eating ass.

"Oh, Master, yes,' she gasps, into my ass crack. " Please. Please...I've been so bad."

"Lick my ass, slave."

For one minute she frantically sucks my ass with near violence, sucking at the hole.

Now I pull her head away, still holding her by the hair, and step back so I can once again see her face tilted up to me, at ball level, her eyes closes in complete bliss, her hair smeared across her cheeks, a complete mess.

"You've been such a naughty asssucking, cocksucking slut. I think Master needs to whip you."

She jerks her head u in wild surmise, drool on her tits, her mouth slack with hunger, her eyes flashing and she nods frenetically.

"Yes sir! Yes sir!"

"I think Master needs to whip you with his belt."

She rolls her neck and lowers her face against my cock.

"Fetch it." I take one foot and push her shoulder backwards, but gently.

She instantly leaps up and runs to the bathroom, where my jeans hang on a hook.

The toilet lid bangs down. I think she's peeing.

"I'm coming, Master!" she shouts. "Just let me pee, sir."

I shake my head, chuckling dazedly.

I look at my hardening cock in the mirror.

What an amazing day.

A whore on Ecstasy.

Some days - but so very few! - are like hash-opium dreams of sex.

This is a day to remember in my art.

My wife enjoys being dominated, though, so I have the parlance and the words -- I've simply never done this before with Megan -- not to this extent.

In some sense, this is more for her pleasure than mine, I suppose. It may surprise the novitiate, but the whore needs some pleasure, too, in a good john-whore relationship.

She comes back in, moving on all fours. My belt is in her mouth. Her leash trails behind her with a soft rattling on the carpet. Her two collars clink.

Then why is my cock growing stronger as she comes back in, on her hands and knees, my belt in her mouth, her eyes down?

She knows her business.

She comes to my feet again and gets on her knees, still holding the belt in her mouth, her eyes on mine.

I take the belt from her mouth and pat her head. She makes little mewling noises...

I open my hand and she licks at my palm.

She trusts me. She knows I would never hurt her.

I suddenly grab her hair like a leash, her other chains clanking, the chain and take my foot and push her onto her belly, and she flattens her self on the carpet supinely.

She spreads her legs and arches her back.

I bring the belt down onto her ass, missing half the target this first time, but she yelps with joy and now I whip her as she crawls along the floor, her ass striping red, her ass weaving, sometimes her body flattening to the carpet to stretch out, writhing in joy as she gets her beating with the belt.

"I love the sound it makes, master!" she cries. "When it comes out of the belt loops and you are going to whip me! I know I've been bad and Master must be harsh!"

She loves each stripe, she rotates and grinds her pussy into the carpet, now fingering her pussy, humping and dry humping.

I don't hit her very hard, but with a sizzling whish of theatrical lashing.

Twice she has begged me to whip her with my belt and I had done so, but not for long -- and always before we started our actual sex session. At least it was before I got turned on. I felt it was a token of her trust. I'd been honored. I'd done it, with a minimum of pain for her, and a maximum of pleasure. I am a good Dom, but as I said, I don't particularly like the role. I do it for the submissive who needs it to be excited. That excites me, actually, more than the domination itself. Of course, you can't tell a sub that -- she wants to get off on the fact you are brutal and demanding. So be it.

But today it is proving to be a real turn on.

I notice a line of new moisture in the slit line of her pussy when she raises her ass off the floor, then humps the carpet.

She crawls along the floor and with each slash of the belt she cries.

I can see glistening moisture running from her pussy forward now.

Her nipples, when she does an upward dog of supplication for me, turning sideways? They appear to be as hard as diamonds, and grow even tinier as she gets hotter, practically disappearing into the pillows of beautiful breast meat.

Slash after slash. Red stripes now criss cross her ass cheeks and legs. None of them are livid. I am not hurting her, I am just painting her.

She adores it. She turns over to recieve lashes on her tits. I soften the whipping here -- I know she is more sensitive here, and I am careful with how I do this.

She presents her pussy, arching her back. I'm honored.

I rest my big toe on her pussy cleft, and then push gently inside.

She cries out.

I fuck her with my big toe, pushing it in and out.

Soon she is bucking and humping, but I withdraw my toe before she can come.

She actually weeps a little, but she lowers to the floor, writhing and touching her pussy, until I bark at her "NO. No coming again."

She nods, wails, rips her hand away from her pussy and sucks it into her mouth.

Now she lies on the carpet, like an infant, sucking her own thumb, curled up with horniness, demonstrating her desire.

She is deranged with need, now, but she takes it and redirects it.

She stares at my angling, almost hard now, still dangling cock.

I can take it or leave all this domination, but if it increases the ardor with which she cock sucks, I'm happy to do it.

Finally I drop the belt.

She instantly pulls her thumb from her mouth -- coming to attention on her knees, shaking off her own horniness, redirecting it back to cock.

I crook my finger.

She scrambles to crawl forward, her eyes riveted to my cock.

She holds up the leash for me as she gets to me.

I take it.

She settles her ass to her knees, her wildly messy head weaving before the bobbing, more strongly defined veins of the cock staff.

"Now softly but ardently suck it in. Both things, bitch. Understand. And no hands."

Groaning assent, she comes forward so her tits are against my legs, her hands going straight to her sides, once again pantomiming the act she can't really do with my current limp dick, but acting like a stiff love doll that I am mouthfucking.

She anoints the head with her tongue, and now sucks it into her mouth, now slowly pulling and puckering in the entire swollen cock, sucking it into her throat with a trilling coo and groan, and gobbling snorts. As she releases it with a cry, a drop of wetness falls from her nose onto the still semi- soft white tube of glistening wet dick.

So. She is telling me she was here and still eager. The belt whipping was worth it.

I smile, closing my eyes. I maneuver her head down so it is engulfing my cock completely - keep it here for a minute.

After first she frantically struggles, but finally she just nearly goes limp and resigned.

She will let me strangle her, is what she is saying. Of course I know that isn't true, and it's the furthest thing from my mind, but the submission to it is very alluring.

That's what I knew she could do!

As her face turns purple, I finally I release her, and the cock comes out with a gasp groan from her, now almost fully hard, and a spray of spit as she pants for breath but also instantly pushes back to to keep her head as close to the cock itself, which has sprung off to the side, towards my right leg, bathed in a new layer, a cocoon lozenge of white spit like a vanilla torpedo, some dessert she can't get enough of.

I suppose this is 'breath play'. I've never done this either before.

I hold her head, which strains to get at the cock. Just frozen here in my hand.

Spit everywhere. Puddling on the floor.

"Do you want a slap?"

She dips her head, sobs.

"Yes, master," she cries quickly. "Hard, please. Because I am so horny please distract me."

"No, but a slap."

She whimpers.

I stand with my feet apart, contemplating my lovely options.

Leash in my hand. Collars tight but allowing her to breathe.

Her hair a matted, wildly beautiful mess.

Do you know why I think many women, (even some whores once they come to trust you) are into a little pain? They are bored, otherwise. Sex doesn't give them the wild, single-minded intensity that it gives men. That's why they must glam it up with romance, and flowers, and exotic locations, lingerie, petals scattered on a bed, gauzy curtains and poetry, blah blah, and gifts and all that other shit.

For men, the orgasm trumps all of that. It's all silly. But women need all that stuff to stay interested. Even the ones you pay!

And a little theatrically brandished pain goes a long way towards keeping Megan entertained.