I barely feel her legs wrapping around my waist. All I can feel is the need to thrust into her again and again, relishing the pleasure as her heat surrounds my cock, hungry, demanding everything. I hear her moan as her body stiffens again, tightening around me, and squeezing everything from me. I lose myself, groaning as I come with an intensity that I’ve never felt before.
My heart continues to pound against my chest like a sledgehammer while I try to catch my breath. When I finally do, I release her legs and pull out from inside her, feeling her body shudder and pulse tightly around me. She lets out a soft sigh and falls back on the pillows, her eyes heavy. They follow me across the room as I take care of the condom before returning to the bed to join her.
We’re both silent. I hand her a tissue from the box on the nightstand, turning away while she cleans herself up.
Who knew sex with a hooker could be so mind-blowing?
She’s still staring at me, her green eyes almost dreamy. I have an impulsive and insane urge to stroke her face, to kiss her full pink lips, and run my hands over her smooth skin.
“I can’t feel my legs,” she says suddenly, and then she chuckles, a small soft sound that for some reason makes me want to smile.
“If it makes you feel any better,” I reply. “I can’t feel mine either.”
Her chuckle turns into a laugh, and a dimple appears on her right cheek, just the one. I find myself staring, and when the laugh turns into a small smile, my eyes travel down to her nipples, hard and pink, and I feel myself getting hard again.
“Can I ask you a question?” she says.
Reluctantly, I drag my eyes back to her face. “Go on.”
“Why would someone who looks like you ever need a hooker?”
“Looks like me?”
She rolls her eyes. “You know what I mean. Someone as hot as you.”
I’ve been described as good-looking by many people, but hearing her say it makes me grin like a fool. “Not to mention devastating in bed,” I add, still grinning.
“I didn’t say that.”
“No,” I tease, “but you said you couldn’t feel your legs.”
She sighs. “Okay, devastating in bed,” she chuckles. “Why would you ever need a hooker?”
“Are all your clients unattractive?” I ask, suppressing the sharp stab of jealousy that accompanies the thought of her with any other man.
She pauses. “Yes,” she says finally, “or busy, or just adventurous.”
I shrug. “Maybe I’m busy and adventurous.”
She doesn’t reply. I find myself searching for a topic, anything, so we can keep talking. It’s ridiculous. I’m not some average guy on a first date who has to pull out all the stops to keep a girl interested.
“Do you want another drink?”
She shakes her head. “I’m fine, thanks.”
I sit up, looking at her face. Where did I hear that hookers don’t kiss? I want to kiss her. To taste her lips. I watch her eyes travel down to my cock, and back to my face. A faint blush stains her cheeks.
“You’re not tired,” I ask, “are you?”
She shakes her head.
“Good.” I run my hand down the side of her body, from her shoulder to her hip, and feel her tremble slightly. Then I move my hand to her back, sliding it over her soft skin until I’m cupping her butt.
Her skin is flushed already, and when I look at her face, her mouth is open, her breath coming hard. I smile at her, then turn her over so she’s lying on her stomach, her butt facing me. I run my hands over the supple skin, before kneading her gently. She makes a sound that’s anywhere between a moan and a sigh.
Pulling her up on her hands and knees, I reach between her legs, pleased to find that she’s soaking wet. She moans loudly when I run a finger over her wet clit, and it turns into a groan when I plunged my fingers deep inside her warmth.
She lets out a soft moan, and I move my fingers, out, then in again. “You’re so wet,” I tell her, “so wet and so hot.”