Ode To A Cali Courtesan Ch. 02

She coaxes and coos to it like a sick baby that she can cure with pure love and kisses.

She clearly adores, and mouths, the gray white foreskin that her tongue keeps tassling over the head as she worries it and dandles it, the sometimes clear, sometimes translucent, sometimes pure foamy white, always bubble-popping living moving coat of saliva braiding all along the wrinkled length, plopping down into its pool of drool, foamy and cherished, her tongue its loving custodian, basting it with obsessive cherishing.

Two dozen times she spits the saliva and come mixture back out onto the now pale tool, the head now rosily beginning to swell, the helmet defining itself at the split glans, getting shinier with tension, and then she vacuums the length of cock back into her mouth and bring all the juices into her mouth again.

Then repeats it, each time with a mounting excitement, a cry of happiness when she lets it plop back out and sees it again out of her mouth, in the light, glistening, the meat smell filling her nostrils as she presses her nose against its oyster colored tube skin, pushing the parchment like cock flesh into an accordion-like flexing.

The head grows a little more, the rose wrinkle at the split glans plumping a little -- noted by her sharp eyes, and her tongue darting out to lave it and encourage it.

A new definition of obsessive compulsive. Art for art's sake.

And intensely moving for me. It is service itself -- and this is the eroticism of it! And she gets it. Under my harsh hand, punishing her over months of sessions that she came to crave like cocaine, this is the penultimate result of her puppy sub lessons. And it earns her a fortune.

What's amazing is how mentally turned on I am by this lengthening of the time she is spending worshipping it.

I am amazed, and I already am happy to pay perhaps even triple for this, which is, I am sure, what she will ask.

She has an exquisite sense of what the market will bear.

Much faster than my normal schedule with her.

How come most whores don't do even an approximation of this, since it would pay them so amazingly more money?

Well, learning is hard. Passion can be hard to demonstrate! Scary! And of course, we are all lazy. And most johns cannot teach the way I do. They lack the confidence to let the woman be herself.

The woman must be herself! That is the secret. You must SEE the woman for who she is.

I saw Megan as an eager student of pleasing a client and I just took it from there.

It took 10 or 15 training sessions, cock-slapping, shaping her under my harsh hand. But I knew she had the right stuff - I understood how to make her nature flower.

I know some would say -- well, it was degrading, what you did, this is subservience. Really?

Megan is a millionaire who controls her destiny. There is no doubt.

And as I said, a woman who can master what she is doing for me today?

They can control any man. Control the world!

I promise you this is true.

Why, then, do more courtesans, let alone one's lovers, not do this?

Well, it is scary to show such passion, scary to show such ability to obsess, to perform the exhibition of need -- even when it is money one is after.

But the rewards are fantastic. Megan has made ME a better lover to my wife and mistress and girlfriends. She is performing, in a real sense, a public service here. She should not be banned or outlawed, she should be celebrated.

As she stays on it, still licking, my passion for her grows.

"Master," she groans, the cock head slipping out of her mouth. "Master, what can I do to prove my cock love MORE?"

"You're doing it, my darling puppy. You're earning an obscene amount of money right now," I laugh.

She sobs as I pet her head and yank her leash chain up and give her several harsh slaps, each one bringing her joy.

"You're so talented, honey," I murmur tenderly. "You are a true artist, and I promise you, in some sense I will immortalize you, I will. Now. Just keep worshipping cock."

She sobs, nodding, giving me a wild look of deep pleasure and thanks, and then her blue eyes return to the puddled wet cock and her head sinks onto it with near hysterical pleasure.

I can feel her legs flexing, cold chains rustling sexily, pushing her pussy lips together as she bends back over the cock, murmuring to it, praising it, and still appearing hungry to smell it, still performing. Still pushing the now completely deadened sodden meat penis onto its back so she can sniff along the whole wrinkled, wet, pink length as it slackens and the head tries, with cranky protests through my nerves, to stay retracted into its turtleneck cowl of glistening foreskin. Angrily, crankily protesting being roused, but this only provoking her more...

In fact, Megan now just keeps nursing on the cock, keeping my cum soaked pipe in her mouth as a pacifier, and relaxes, and sighs all around it, loosening her mouth grip, then tightening it again. Her focus still sharp.

I can't feel cum rod sexual stirring, not yet -- but my cock is half hard now, feeling meaty and bouncy. And I am mentally turned on beyond belief.

And wondering how long she can cherish it like this. I am cheering every second.

I look down at her, though I am still nearly asleep with dopamine, having cum so hard, having shot a huge set of cum into her mouth, which now looks glistening and swollen. Her eyes by contrast are bright, flicking up to mine then back down to the focus of her attention - my slasodden tool. I must admit I am still utterly drained, it's only been 15 minutes since I shot a huge load into her mouth, and my cock is still nearly half asleep. She has taken every drop of my seed and swallowed it and is begging for more -- but a man dick needs 20 minutes to revive - unless you are 19 -- and I am not!

(Also, frankly, although I will not tell her this, nor have I told you yet -- I already came twice today before I got here. It's a little embarrassing, we need not go into it right now...)

But - I have that hollowed out feeling of super cum.

My eyes half closed, I nearly fall asleep even as I am turning back on, half asleep now, feeling her mouth suckling my cock.

Now the glottal cum voice groan comes.

"I am ready to swallow the last of your load, master," she finally whispers. "I've pulled it all back out of the washcloth, into my mouth and back onto your cock, sir. If you are ready for me to do so, I am ready to consume the last of your old cum. Oh, MASTER! To get ready for the new cum!" She trembles.

She is finally ready to swallow the huge flood of cum I jetted long minutes ago into her greedy mouth.

I grunt my assent.

She places my left hand on her throat so I can feel her continually swallowing my seed, working at getting all the cum all the way down her throat without drinking anything. She lets me feel her swallowing, which increases my own sated pleasure.

After another full minute of relished swallowing, she raises her head up off the sodden cock, her eyes still closed, her cheeks and chin and throat a glistering mess.

"Master, may I move to the side?"

I nod without speaking.

She crawls to the right side of the chair, her head returning instantly to cock, but now kneeling by my chest.

She opens her mouth to show she's swallowed everything.

"Good girl."

She brings up the hand towel she'd earlier spat my cum into, and now chews on it again obsessively.

"All gone, Master. Stored for later."

I can't believe how erotic this is.

I lazily put my hand down onto the blades of her dimpled lower spine, right above her ass.

"Please Master," she whispers. "Please. Will you put your finger in my ass? Please. I'll do anything for you, I'll worship cock more if you would grant me this wish. Oh, god, I want you to finger fuck my ass. It's very clean."

She is still facing towards me, but bent over now, by my side, and her ass is within easy reach of my drooping hand. Now, even as she still mouths my cock, she reaches back with both hands and, as I can see in the reflection of the long sliding closet mirrors by the patio door, the light perfect, as she pulls open her muscled ass cheeks spread, a viola-shape parted, the anus itself a pink shade of strawberry, a pretty round little red and white ring.

My hand drops to her dimpled ass, then fingers linger on her ass crack for a moment, cupping it.

Now I suddenly brutally finger her crack, then push my finger in and she groans happily, clenching around my finger.

"Oh, god," she groans and backs up against my finger. She immediately begins to fuck herself against my palm.

She lied, of course, there is still a little spit and cum on the cock and in her mouth, too, she simply likes it too much to totally rid herself of it. There is clearly still a coating of gluey come in her mouth, for she works it sometimes to show me, as I turn my head forward, as she lies at a slant across my belly, awkwardly sucking as she still offers her ass to me to finger fuck. Her position must be hard to maintain, but she is rigid and muscled with effort and desire to stay where she is.

It pays off for her, at least as a performance piece. Soon she is bucking and groaning under the ministrations of my finger.

I finger fuck her and within two minutes she is vibrating, and coming against my hand. Her cries are stifled -- almost not there. They disappear as soon as they appear, but she continues, for 45 seconds, to just buck silently.

It might even be real. Her mouth does yank off my cock as she cries out in orgasm, and she is too preoccupied with coming to suck my dick for about ten seconds.

Impressive!

But now she puts my cock in her mouth and keeps it there, a kind of taffy pulled talisman, a baby sucker, mouthing it as she groans in orgasm.

I barely have moved.

Her groans subside and she bows her head, the cock slipping out of her hot mouth.

"Oh, god, thank you," she whispers.

I remove my finger and she immediately scrambles for it, sucking it harshly, pulling on it, licking everything, even the palm.

She lays along the side of the chaise lounge, holding my arm with both hands as if it is a big cock, licking my palm and finger, sucking the index that recently so bluntly violated her lovely asshole. Her tongue also licking up my forearm and biting the bicep that balloons above, a bicep I have worked hard on to get bigger in the last year.

She fetishizes the bicep muscle now as she did my cock. Licking at it.

Fake? Her orgasm? Who knows? I have only seen her cum once before. As I said, our contract is explicit -- pleasure for me and my cock only. So. I didn't ask for her to cum, so I will always wonder. because she does seem to have taken pleasure in that penetration.

Probably her strategy.

But orgasming has never been part of her repertoire with me.

So this role-play is proving worth it.

She licks the finger that went into her ass so assiduously that when I raised it to my nose a minute later, it is totally clean.

"Good girl," I murmur.

She palms my balls, rolling them softly, cherishing them.

"The cum came out of here...It started its journey here...it squirted in four burths," she lisps, lolling her tongue on the foreskin that her tongue pushes up, making a little tent of the wrinkled skin, eyeing the cockhead as it lies below the pinched up flap. She fills the little tent with saliva.

"Yes. It squirted in four bursts." I murmur, lying back down.

"I felt each one." She sighs and lets the foreskin relax, and her spit drools out of the relaxed wrinkles. She licks this up. "I taste each one." She sighs again. "I wanted to drink it so badly. I was dreaming of drinking it. And then I did."

I clear my throat.

She holds the cock up with a thumb and forefinger, examining its underside, just a few inches from a shaft of sunlight coming in the lengthening afternoon shade.

It has re-softened fully while I took care of Megan's apparent desire.

"Does this cock need to piss, Master?," she asks softly.

I don't reply.

I'm not sure I want to play this game. It's not my fetish and it never has been, but the pure act of obeisance it implies IS a turn on. Does that make sense?

She drops it back to my belly, now noses at my cock, which rolls, almost irritably away, falling sloppily to my left hip.

"I want to watch. I want to help if it does. Please, Master, god damn it."

I have to laugh, but I still don't reply. I'm not sure I will enjoy this - as I said, it's just never been part of my eros. But again -- something about her desire to show me her desire? That is exciting. But I truly don't want to do anything that would hurt her or damage her pride...I do adore Megan...

But clearly she's asking. Clearly this IS in her repertoire. And maybe I'd like it!

As if to convince me, she now once again gobbles up its full, but deflated length.

Good god.

She keeps most of it in her mouth as she pulls it longer, stretching the slightly chubby rod out, its length veiny and parchment colored. Drained.

She just keeps tonguing it as she stretches it gently, but softly enough that it doesn't hurt. I put my hand down on her head and jawline, feeling her swallowing, still.

There is a sheen of perspiration and cum and spit that has flowed from her chin down her neck all the way to her taut, nipple brushing my thighs tits. This is hard work! Don't think I don't know or appreciate it -- or that it will not go into my final fee! I am a generous and appreciative john!

Megan's body has a lush curve to it that is opposite my normal desire, but viola shaped voluptuousness is a lovely thing now, passion for cocksucking perfumes a girl just so.

Her tongue teases the piss slit of my cock head, seeking more come.

I cant one leg up, pulling my cock slightly away, and she tries to follow with her mouth, mouth unwillingly gives up my cock with a soft pop, then returns the head to its sucking lips, slurping it in and out, working it in her mouth by grasping the head and hoovering the cockhead just so the ridge of it is sealed to the inner side of her lips, and then nursing and working it with hollowing cheeks, just an inch in and out, like a piston, her tongue laving it in the dark pocket of her trolling mouth.

"Meat perfume," she murmurs. "That's the smell of your cock, Master. Man meat."

Periodically, Megan, her ivory skin now sheened with perspiration, will also let the parchment colored squat fat, unplumped, origami-folded foreskinned organ fall out, then groan, then lip it back into her mouth, levering it sideways with her tongue as the plum head glistens and rivulets with her drool hunger.

The head has lost its purple sheen again. Frankly I am willing it to stay soft -- I love this game so much.

She seems delighted that she gets to suck it up again!

I put the small architectural pillow that was on the chaise under my head so I can peer down at her. I am fascinated that she can bring such passion to this completely inert, flaccid instrument. And wondering how she can still be at it. Loving it!

The offer to help me piss still lies in my mind, unformed...

But she knows better than to press.

Finally she lays it tenderly, slowly, down onto my belly with a final coo, and then bows down to it formally, rubbing the duck-necked white pipe of smashed, squirming cock with her forehead, basting herself, her skin rolling the wrinkled cock head and scrotum loosening, forming a kind of glove that caresses her chin, which dandles the balls as she snuffles the recoiling length of cock around on my belly, the head lolling, the tube of skin turning even more pale, as if shrinking away from touch, only the head still a slight purplish on the band now, a pubic hair on the loosening burnoose of foreskin that she delicately licks off and tries to swallow, her throat and tongue working while she sniffs at the drenched cock.

"Master, oh my Master," she whispers to the inert cock, as she presses her face again against the smashed down cock, rolling it from side to side, smearing her cheeks with its squirting drool.

I try to note every detail, for when I commemorate this day in prose.. I do not expect this miracle afternoon to ever repeat itself...Megan is wonderful, but even she could not do this better -- I can't believe she ever could exceed today! Even now it seems more of a dream than reality ...I believe I am writing this down just to preserve it, to know that it is real...to be able to remember...

And I don't want to confess to her the truth. I had already had sex twice today when I came to see her!

My wife had been in an unaccustomed mood of eros in the morning - usually she likes it at night. But marriage is always full of surpises and this morning, still abed, she had indicated her desire in the customary way and we had had pleasant, fun sex in bed -- no devices, no ropes -- none of the things she normally requires these days. Just a spoon fuck and a nice mutual come.

We had then cuddled, watched a little TV, and had some breakfast in bed. And perhaps because of the super moon outside -- who knows? the horniness of a woman is always a mystery to me! - she had gone down on me again. This rarely happens, but she had seemed to want it - -and who was I to say no? This had turned into a mutual session of oral sex. Lovely! Unusual! And when one has been married as long as I have -- something to be celebrated deeply!

I had almost considered canceling my appointment with Megan after this morning -- but I don't like doing that. I know that whores -- like anyone else -- need dependable customers.

And now I am so glad I did not!

But my cock - having already come three times today? He is a hard-ridden horse indeed, ha!

The beauty of that, though, is that it actually is contributing to the moment -- he is HARD to raise...but that is what Megan's lesson should be!

Even as her head comes back off the cock, her eyes become alert and she cries out -- and I see what she sees - that a tiny post cum trickle of fresh sperm emerges from the slit head and she rushes forward again, her mouth flexing as she makes contact with the spitty head and sucks it in with a cry, keeping her lips open to inhale its smell as she does so, daubing at the cock head long after the last bit has been licked off, sucking it repeatedly, pulling on it like a nursing infant to see if she can get more liquid out of it, finally letting it go for the tenth time with flaccid plop and her mouth saliva gushing down along the ridge of the helmet, her drool riding along the groove and dripping onto the belly, where the cock now lies like a glistening coil.

"More juice," she murmurs reverently.

On my back, I close my eyes and she starts pecking at my stomach muscles, looking for any traces of juice she left behind.

"I'm going to clean you of my new filthy drool now, Master," she says to the cock. Her voice rises in a kind of anguish. "Clean you so this magnificent cock will be ready to piss. HE deserves to be clean of my spitty drool, just clean and warm and pink and dry." She pauses. "So he can get thick again, get THICK, yessss."

She spends a long time tonguing the fur above my cock, sucking all the hairs, cleaning and licking. She is still murmuring, her bright blue eyes on the dick.

She now supports the rolling russet and cream worm of cock now with the under bridge of her nose, just staying down there snuffled, the cock lolling on her forehead and the huge balls, not nearly drained, she seems to notice -- one cum could never drain the bull like sac -- rolling beneath her blandishments and urgent grunts, adding to the sheen of spit and come that already coats her face, the cockhead lewdly rolling to and fro along the tip of her nose.

Cupping the cock and balls in both hands, she observes them as if they were her most precious offspring, a wet baby held up for blandishment and ove, and now she stretches the pipe of cock away from the sac, extending the whole sex organ in one long examination, as long as its deflated length will allow -- it looks like a goose, plucked, tweezed at the base and then up at the purple white head, faded from the rose of arousal.