Ode To A Cali Courtesan Ch. 02

As if to underline this drama, she now spits cum out onto a lush, luxurious looking bath towel that she's cannily concealed near the foot of the bed. Hardly the behavior of a girl who wants to drink piss, I note, almost laughing, but still -- one has to admire the sheer theater of this. She wants to do it on a supplying of services level if nothing else and I appreciate that almost as much as if it were real. More, actually, I love dedication to any skill.

Grandly, this consummate actress moves slowly down my body, her lovely, split ass viewable in the mirror on the far wall, a muscular apple ass whose two halfs are spread in ministration over my legs, still no pussy visible --and now she nears the end of the bed, and even as she keeps licking, she actually gets off the bed, kneeling at the bottom of it.

I watch, from above, as she sucks my toes into her mouth.

I'm still far too spent for this to get me hard again, but it's quite a sensation, having a mouth on one's toes. Like a licking fish when you've put your feet in the water.

What's gotten in to this amazing whore? The spirit of pure mercantile need?

Well, yes. I'm the lucky guy. Sometimes we are simply lucky!

Almost no customer gets this from a whore - I can tell you that -- I don't care if you pay $5,000 an hour, you do not get this. Only from a passion artist could you ever get this. Women, men, take a lesson. This is the lover's highest art. Whether paid or no.

As she gobbles on my feet, she stands up enough to get her left hand to crawl up my leg and encircle the head of my penis again, tensing and incensing on it, the plum head extruding with each rhythmic squeeze, exposing itself above her little white fingers. An ooze of cum from deep in the cock. When she sees it, she cries out and clambers back up my legs up for a moment, sucking it all out with a wild moan. Once again her head at my cock.

But it hurts my just orgasmed penis a little too much right now -- it's not feeling sexual yet for her to suck the tender meat, so I push her back down to my feet with my left heel. She goes willingly back down, once again falling to the floor and taking my feet in her mouth.

Once there, her mouth resumes licking, this time basting my feet all the way to my ankles, darting, dedicated. My feet are wet now. She takes pulls from the bottle of spring water on the floor between licks.

I decide to test her. She has, after all, been the one who is offering the service. Can she really sell it?

"Tell me more about the pissing." I murmur.

She nods eagerly, her face gleaming as she looks up from my feet.

"Auh uh huh YEAH. I...I will...I will hold your gorgeous cock while it pisses." she says, her voice almost shaking, both hands now squeezing gently on my ankles, her eyes adoring my cock that dangles and rolls to and fro on my belly as she rocks my legs gently, twisting them back and forth, making my dick move back and forth so she can follow it fetishistically. Her eyes on it obsessively and she occasionally sucks on my toes, still watching the moving cock.

I push at her face with my free foot and she takes in the sole, licking.

"Don't come back up and suck on my cock, it's too tender."

"Yes sir. But...I NEED to see your pissing cock. Oh, please, master."

"Mmm hmm." I say. Desire itself is the ultimate artful conviction, the thing that will push you into agreeing, into relishing what you want. I like that she is volunteering more than the act itself -- Her solemn look, her dedication, all in her lowering eyes.

"Roger I won't suck but let me come back so I can look at him, PLEASE," she moans.

Without waiting for my assent, she now crawls her way back up my legs, hugging my thighs tightly, her face once again hovering right above the cock, staring down at it as she talks into it...

"It's my job, my duty, my deepest PLEASURE," she says earnestly, "to take everything from this magnificent cock, to clean it and service it in every way, Roger it's my passion to do it and when I think about holding it and watching it as it pisses it makes me so full of need and desire. He is my MASTER and I need to worship him in ALL ways, don't you think? I almost don't dare to tell you how much I want to do this! Oh, please. Oh, PLEASE..."

All I need to do is witness. That's the beauty of real art.

"The scent of cock meat from you is so beautiful master!" she sighs. "You smell like only you can with your own hot wet meat, master, your cock meat smell, it is so perfect, so wonderful, so your own I could smell your cock... oh master I could smell your cock, even without lights even dark!"

She stares up at me, straining forward, miserably missing the sucking, she shows me.

She is forlorn without cock, this is what she is showing me, as forlorn as Madame Butterfly who is missing her navy captain, the famous aria, my muscular German whore is passionately singing her coluratura to cock!

"Can't I just softly do it, oh please master I will remember myself." She looks like she's about to cry. "Can't I taste him a little if I promise, oh I PROMISE to be soft."

"Softly," I say curtly. "Or you're going to be slapped."

With a thrilled cry, she sucks in the head, milking it in and out as if already milking it of piss. Her efforts almost too hard until I have to reach down and softly slap her cheek to remind her to be gentle.

My goodness...

"Mmm hmmm," she nods, and her grip lessens a little. Her lips stay soft, even as they tremble with lust.

I can even feel my drained cock begin to stir slightly. What powerful man could NOT this woman have? Why is she not the wife of a Senator? (Although both of our California Senators are women. One is an idiot. But I doubt either of them sucks cock well. Although who knows?)

She cups the cock again, pointing the head down, burlesquing the pissing angle...relishing it, rolling the head slightly back and forth.

"I want your need to piss to take awhile to come out...yes, I want to drink at it, to bite at the stream... " she murmurs, her cadence half slowed. "I...I need that to take awhile. I'll be on my knees beside you, kneeling next to the toilet, watching the piss arc out, dreaming of having the cock hardening again, watching the piss, watching the piss....maybe take my hand if you'll let me, hold the cock up, the head of it still drooling piss, oh, Master, then I can clean you, then I can clean the wet head. Lick the dripping piss off the end of your beautiful cock head as it hands down, I will suck all around your foreskin, oh...god..."

Where did she get this fantasy set of scripts? Well, her courtesan experience of course.

I murmur. "A consummation of the pleasure."

"Uh huh, uh huh."

She closes her eyes and re-sucks my cock head in and out now a little too violently. Her eyeliner has run onto the planes of her cheekbones.

"I want to drink it," she cries, "I want to lick it and suck it while it pisses, oh Master, please! I want to take nectar."

This I don't need to believe, I don't want her to do what she does not want to do, I accept it as theater, no more - but I love it for what passion it shows.

I pull up and rest my foot on her left shoulder and she bows her head, accepting the foot on her shoulder submissively and happily. Her right hand snakes up my leg and her thumb pushes gently at my wet asshole, not going in -- she knows I wouldn't like that -- but just tickling.

"What else, lovely?" I ask, deciding to push her. "What else could you offer me this afternoon? Should I be willing to pay for it?"

I admire her industriousness as much as her eroticism and want to hear more.

She doesn't reply, genius that she is. She is too busy with my asshole, beautiful creature!

Only her gorgeous, now drenched, designer coiff of messed up hair and the top of her forehead is visible above my half squashed cock, her mouth pressed against my asshole, her tongue working.

It works into my asshole itself, spearing into the ring of muscle, harder than it has ever done before. Frustrated sublimated cock sucking? Perhaps. But once again she is a little too hard and I'm considering kicking her away when she pulls away slightly on her own accord, with a slurping shudder.

Her bright eyes blink. She's concocting.

And now she answers me.

"You could punish me, sir. Oh please. I know I can suck too hard. You have to school me. I need it." Her mouth and eyes wryly wrinkle, and she cuts her eyes at me coquettishly.

Beginning to make my cock stir again...

"And how will I do that?" I ask her.

Her bright eyes come up just above my slack, rolled over cock. Perfect.

She is her own best Muse for this stuff.

She raises a little more. Her wet head grins coquettishly.

"You will have to leash me up, Master. Do you want to walk me on my leash? Take me to the bathroom?"

Just to underline the eros, she now lets drool fall out of her mouth onto my scrotum as she speaks, staring at me with wide, doll like eyes, as if she doesn't know what just happened. She just stares, the wet saliva rope swinging from her lovely firm jaw line. Dazed. Her eyes go down to the cock, and she makes a little whine.

A wanting, starving cock slut.

What an artist.

I laugh.

"Well. A good girl like you must have a leash."

"I do." She blushes and manages to look embarrassed -- not easy for her.

"Fine. Go get it."

She hesitates, and then licks my ass again, and then nods.

"You know me too well, Roger," she says, clearly happy at the idea. She clambers off the bed. Humming happily, she goes to the chest of drawers by the door with the single, cheap clock on it, opens the top drawer and brings out a heavy silver chain, almost the gauge of the chain used to pull cars out of ditches.

She holds it up as it clatters.

Modeling it.

She has decided to reveal her full bag of courtesan tricks today.

Novelty makes money, too.

I love seeing the dull metal chain sparkle against her ivory colored, statuesque body, the heavy tits reddened through the mesh of the short little body stocking she has never taken off.

I wonder if she could produce a full suit of armor from that drawer. Probably!

I've never seen her open it before.

I like this upselling, I do!

"Do you like this one? Or - "

She holds up a pink dog leash.

"This one?"

'No, the heavy chain."

"Yes, sir. And for collars, Master?"

She raises a chrome metallic dog choker - something for a big blood hound or shephered. It clinks seductively.

I chuckle.

"Yes. The heavy dog choker, honey. What impeccable taste you have."

She smiles happily.

She puts it around her neck, fastening it behind as her heavy breasts quiver. They are streaked with drool and cum and that simply makes them sexier.

She now pulls out a small silver chain choke collar from the drawer, too.

She fastens it on herself, too.

Whores love overstatement in dress and fashion.

And a triple necklace now, along with the original heavy slave collar she wore when I arrived! How au courant. The latest thing in Brentwood, I have noticed, land of the domesticated housewife whore mixing with the real whores at the Peet's Coffee and Tea on San Vicente -- what a clash of like worlds is there, ha! Did you know there are more brothels in the Brentwood and Westwood corridors than any place else in Los Angeles -- every other gorgeous girl at the Whole Foods pushing her cart, every other lovely at the Starbucks with her lipstick and laptop? They are professional cock suckers -- vive la West Side!

She comes forward two feet, then stops, stares at me, then down at the cock.

My lithe slave girl.

She cries out to my cock. That's the only way I can think to describe it.

"Cock," she sobs, staring at my open legs, at the penis that lies flatly on my belly.

"Cock."

She reaches out with the leash. She is still looking at the cock, but she is holding out the leash to me.

I raise my hand and she comes forward with the leash, but I shake my head.

"Hang on, Megan. Stay right there."

"OH, master PLEASE. Please." Her eyes are bright.

I stretch out languorously.

"Take your shoes off." I order. "What I'm going to do to you next requires you not be wearing heels."

God knows what I even mean by that. The order is all. I just want to see her take the Jimmy Choos off.

Shaking with joyful happiness that she can comply, she drop kick flings her shoes off, and they clatter away into the corners, unminded, flinging them while still looking at my cock. Groaning. Licking her lips.

"Now take off that dress. I want you completely naked now. I'm going to debase you, beautiful."

"PLEASE!"

I love watching her struggle to get the tight, wet mesh dress off. There are so many collars, so many chains. As she writhes to do it, her blonde hair gets caught in various things and i adore watching her disassemble her outfits to get the dress off. She whimpers as she does and gives me short glances to make sure I'm watching.

As if I wouldn't!

Finally she is free of the dress and she stands up right, holding it in her hands, panting a little. She leans forward, letting her hair fall forward, wet, and then flipping it back, as if in a pool, so that it is now all behind her. She looks like a S&M fashion model, something from a seventies fashion spread. Amazing.

She is totally naked except for the collars, leashes, and various chains wrapped and swinging along her big curved tits, her muscular legs and hourglass waist.

Those tits are just magnificent, I decide. My next girlfriend will not be a skinny, sullen little Modigliani stick. She will have some meat on her bones, like Megan.

I light a cigarette from the pack by the bed. I have never done that but I want to, and why not?

"Now get on your hands and knees. Right there. You're going to crawl over here to me. Slowly."

She now nods and gives out a series of little cries...and now she drops to the floor.

She loves it. She makes arabesques of genuflections there on the floor, dipping her head, pushing her body against the carpet.

She begins to crawl her way back to the bed. But she stops every few inches to slavishly bend again.

HOW she comes towards me -- it's such art.

Never has she done anything remotely as glorious as this.

Because she now makes a total production of coming to me.

The chain drags along the carpet with a bumping sound, but now she pauses and lowers herself all the way to the floor as if doing the downward portion of a push up.

She is genuflecting again. Her mouth open, drooling.

Her breasts are brushing the wooden floor and she keeps stopping to smash her body onto the floor in obeisance.

I watch, fascinated.

"Beg me as you come," I murmur.

Her head nods, even as her body stays on the floor.

"PLEASE! Please punish me, Master. please!"

"I'm still not sure if you deserve it, this punishment," I murmur, delighted to see her weaving head, her magnificent tits swaying abjectly, the slave chain clinking against the floor, her head swooping down in obeisance.

I stretch and swing my legs down and put my feet on the floor, still sitting on the bed.

"Crawl here. Slowly." I order.

She stops herself from moving quickly, and shakes her head. Moving deliberately, often stopping entirely, she begins crawling on her hands and knees, her chains clanking, as she eagerly and submissively crawls towards where I am waiting, legs open, feet played.

As she comes forward she pauses several times to dip her head, to weave in a floor-scraping figure eight with her entire body, demonstrating her prostration for me, her total servitude in that weaving, bobbing mash against the floor, her nipples dragging on the carpet.

She crawls forward after each bobbing weave.

Her open mouth drools onto the carpet as she comes.

I can feel my cock stirring. What magnificence!

Soon she is between my feet, between my spread legs as I sit on the side of the bed.

She bends down, and licks the tops of my feet.

I grab the leash chain now, toying with it.

"Up," I murmur. 'Enough of that. Get up to my cock."

She nods frantically. "COCK!" she cries out.

She rises from between my legs, her head coming up even with my drenched, dripping, quiescent cock. I hold it in my hand loosely, in the palm, presenting it to her, exhibiting it, displaying it.

She cries out when she sees this. She tries to come forward instantly to suck it.

I push her forehead back as she strains to get to the cock.

I keep dandling the cock, sleeving it with my open hand, showing her first one side of it then the other.

She comes up on her haunches, then back down, over and over, her thighs tightening in a display of arousal, her head following the cock as it lies in my open palm. She licks her lips and groans. My hand presses her back, on her forehead. The mouth working, drooling, below...mascara has reached her jaw line.

As I display the cock she tries and strains to get at it.

But I don't let her.

I pick up the pink leash now too, wrap it around my hand along with the heavier slave chain, and pull her neck forward slightly towards my cock.

I love this look, too.

I palm the cock, holding the head up to her, exhibiting it.

She swoons as she looks at it.

After a moment, I let my cock drop to my thigh.

Her eyes follow it, and she drops her head, too, almost sobbing with frustration that I am keeping her from it.

"Don't torture me, give me dick," she sobs. "Don't torture me, give me the dick. Let me EAT it!" she cries. "Master let me EAT IT PLEASE..."

I slap her.

"I told you you were to be debased."

She nods, sobs and nods again. "Oh, please," she whispers. "Yes, you are the master, oh please debase me, Roger, please..."

She sobs and tries to suck my fingers.

"Debase me, Master, as you see fit..."

She is on her knees on the floor, almost prostrate, her blonde hair a disheveled, sexy mess -- the expensive hair cut blown out and mopped, her blue eyes nearly crossed as she looks at my dripping, fallen to the left side cock. She now puts her hands on my feet, warming them, keeping her eyes at my cock level, the chain swinging and clinking softly.

I once again pick up my cock, and this time I fist my cock, presenting her the shiny, soft head.

Her own mouth forms an open 'O' of desire as her eyes follow every movement, every jack of skin.

"Beg for this man cock."

"YES! Give it -- give me your wet meat, oh master oh master, I want to watch it, I need it to come forward I need it in my mouth I NEED TO TASTE YOU, honey."

The whole time her head and body has been straining forward.

"Talk to him, he's your boss, too."

"Hello, Master,' she whisper. "Thy will be done. I want dick juice and please let me hold you while you piss, master. Oh beautiful cock, you please, you send me to my knees, oh Master, I am prostrate before you. OH GOD," she looks up at me, "Please can I have him, oh, Master, please!"

And now I loosen the leash just slightly, and she rushes forward and her mouth engulfs my cock and begins to suck, only the head peeking out above the top of my fist.

Of course she does it too hard. Is this design? She yearns for what is happening, I can tell that.

Once again sucking far too hard.

I frown and slap her, and yank the chain back.

"You've forgotten again. Your lessons, you silly, stupid girl."

She nods sorrowfully, pulls back, the soft cock falling from her mouth. She eyes it ravenously.

"Yes, Master," she nods, "I am sorry I am sorry this time I will do it right, oh please give me another chance, it's just that when I taste it something happens, I can't control but PLEASE PLEASE give me ONE MORE CHANCE..oof"

I rest my left foot on her shoulder, pushing her till she folds back on her knees, resting on the carpet.