I was going down by Plaza España when I got a call with a proposal of an immediate date from one of the agencies I was working for.
The client, from Madrid, who was on a business visit, was asking for an “express service”, that’s how I call the ones which are requested with pressing needs. The person wanted an escort in his room, calling with a quarter of an hour ahead of time, and I was on his hotel surroundings, “by chance”. That week, as in all the times I’m lucid, there were a lot of things happening by chance, so when I hung up the telephone, I just smiled and I didn’t matter about it, because I didn’t had time to think on the magic of life.
I started to accelerate my walk to the hotel where Eduardo was staying, and I organized my thoughts to pay attention to the unconscious routine I still hadn’t developed because of my recent incorporation to sex trade. I had to come into the hotel with determination and skill, find the elevators and everything would be solved. After that, once in the room, I had to ask him to let me take a shower, since I had been almost all morning going all around Barcelona, and furthermore, I had made a last run for not making him wait.
I didn’t like the idea. Not only it didn’t correspond to my protocoles, but also, I didn’t like that after two minutes we met, he would see me naked, canceling all the possibilities of seducing him bit by bit, taking off my outfit. But more than a slow seduction, I realized what Eduardo was asking for was a quick shag.
In those days, I couldn’t allow myself to stop working when I had my period. Through a colleague of mine, I had discovered the existence of the vaginal sponges, and even if it wasn’t a solution that convinced me at all, the pressure I had with the debts didn’t let me take days off. So, besides the shower, once I entered into the client’s room, I had to remember to put that “thing” to make everything work good.
The little sponge ritual was specially more detailed afterwards than in the previous stage, since I never had experienced the rescue of that thing from the deep cavities of my vagina. To get an idea, for those who had never seen one of that little sponges, it’s a sort of tampon without string, but made of a softer material. Consequently, it’s possible to have sex, neither without the blood sprouting outside nor being any apparent signal of the menstrual state.
With this thing I discovered the surprising length of my vagina, its nooks and the similarity it has with a cave where something can be trapped in any corner. As well, I found a cave with flexible but strong walls, and a place where I hadn’t paid as much attention since I gave birth.
In the last sponge rescue I had done, I had finished thinking I should introduce myself in the fisting(*) techniques if I decided to go on using them. And a sequence of events came one after the other that every time I share to my colleagues and close friends, they erupt in laughter, surprise and show incredulity signals.
I’m very natural, cheerful some could say, but not enough to revelate more details. Just imagine that even deeper than you think, a piece of sponge four or five centimetres long could go inside the tubes that go toward the uterus. It stays still in the bottom and insists on containing as if it was a treasure, going deeper as much as you try to catch it.
I discovered late that the little sponge must not be introduced to the most lowest part at first. Once done, if you have a whole night jumping from shag to shag and forgetting about it, it’s possible it has hooked. Because of the “in and out action”, the junk has looked for a space where the fingers can’t reach, no matter how much you may stretch them out.
Let’s change the subject coming back with Eduardo, who needed to hurry up.
I opened the room door after overcoming the hotel entrance test, sneaking by the hall as a spy who had a secret mission. Behind the door, my client was waiting with his beautiful blue eyes, which hypnotized and distracted me before starting the show.
Trophy-like eyes, polite and sensible demonstration, a quite shy personality, a lot of order, respect and very mysterious. That’s what I remember from my first impressions with Eduardo. After, came the shower and the little sponge “ritual”, all being a bit stressful and worried. Right after, he was laying on the bed in front of me.
I asked him if he had ever been with an escort, since I noticed him more insecure and nervous than usually for others. He answered yes and I decided not to insist, but later I discovered that it wasn’t true.
What a pity! To be honest, he could had made things easier, but he was ashamed of it, so I just used my spontaneity. I got down to business and I didn’t think over it, offering him a massage to break the ice. I don’t remember if he accepted it, but in a minute I already had his member in my mouth and I was performing a felatio that was very pleasant for him. Also, I kissed him and it stuck in my memory the affection which he tried to treat me and made me feel comfortable.
Once in awhile, that blue depth and the signals of trying to make me feel good, allowed me to escape from reality and filled my condition with charm and magic. I always use these signals that take me to fall in love with the client and the situation, those signals that generally are not physical and allow me to be his most dedicated lover while I’m hired.
I went on with the blow job carrying him to ecstasy, so he liked it that way and soon he warned me the end was coming. He couldn’t accept the idea of cuming in my mouth (that’s why he was warning me…!), since that meant to him a lack of respect or a thing for perverse people.
I’ve never been crazy about having the client’s sperm in my mouth. It’s one of that things neither I like nor dislike it, though it has its morbid side. It brings me interesting thoughts in relation to what I’ve read about the white tigresses(**). But it’s not something I would write in my letter to Santa Claus (hahaha…could you imagine? “Dear Santa Claus, since this year I’ve been a good girl, I ask you to bring me a lot of clients who want to cum in my mouth, please…”), or maybe is not one that I would write in my list of work favourite practices. But this one has never neither resulted too filthy nor a lack of respect or a dirty trick.
But I had in front of me a client who needed to hurry up, and the last thing he could expect was a speech about the prejudices and taboos in the subjective ideas about sex practices. So I let him spread his cum freely and scattered in his belly, blithely.
Then he jumped to the shower not mentioning the piece of play we had developed, only giving me enough information to be calm about it. He was completely satisfied and convinced about the idea my lips were the most skillfulest he had never tried.
His almost imminent jump to the shower reminded me again his hurries and I also jumped to clean myself in order to disappear soon and let him go on his way.
While I was putting my shoes on, I realized he was all ready, standing in front and looking at me fixedly. It made me feel uncomfortable, I thought it was his way to show me his urgency to get me out of his way, and I told him I would try to step on it, to what he answered worried:-”No, take it easy, there’s no need to hurry up, I just like looking at you, take your time.”
In this point I started to doubt, ¿Did he really wanted me to dash? He still had half an hour left, already paid, and he had given me a good tip upfront, ¿wouldn’t he make the most out of it?
To summarize, I’ve never liked to leave at the end of a date with many doubts and so, I tried to clarify the subject. And I discovered that it was his first date with a sex professional, and he didn’t have any idea about how the matter worked.
Do you know these things all of us are aware without paying attention? These kind of things everybody must discover but they are already a part of your unconscious mechanisms?
So Eduardo needed some basic information and I tried to give him it. Now I see that his conclusions might had been something like this: “ I’ve already cumed, so the service might finish here…”, because he told me embarrassed and lost:
-”It’s just that I really don’t know how it works, I don’t know what I’m allowed to do or what I should do…”.
-”Listen”, I said, “in a date you can do a lot of things with the escort you’ve hired. The most important thing is to make sure that you’ve checked if the escort practice the kind of services you want – anal sex, blow job without protection, fantasies, etc.-. but the hour you’ve already paid it’s yours, I’m completely yours this time we have left now, for example, we can take a glass of cava to celebrate we’ve met, play chess game, talk, take a walk, etc. Whatever you want, but if you prefer it, I just leave and you shouldn’t feel bad about it, you’re in charge here and you have to try to get your satisfaction and wellness in parallel with the kindness and respect you’ve offered me.”
Escorts are not only offering sex, a lot of as have the GFE (Girl Friend Experience) service, what means that you can ask us for anything you’d wish to do with your girlfriend. You have at your disposal, during the time you’ve hired me, a sexy, hot and liberal girlfriend. Anyway, you have by your side a clever and understanding woman to talk, an all-terrain partner that as much as you can take in adventures to the end of the world, and/or you can have a dinner in a luxury restaurant.
And here comes the reason of this text, an answer that I’ll never forget, something I didn’t expect. Some words that arose of his mouth with excitement and shyness at the same time, a sentence he expressed being spontaneous for the first time with me, and it moved me.
Literally he asked me:
-”Could I make love to you?”
And here me, being completely spontaneous, couldn’t avoid to show a smile that sprang full of amazement.
I couldn’t believe what he was asking me, but I realized, because of his seriousness, that he wasn’t teasing. Even though my spontaneous smile could had bothered him, since it was an embarrassing situation for him; so I sort it out getting slowly close to his lips while I was looking intensely at his eyes (…my God, such amazing eyes!).
Filled with that emotionalism that his sincerity and inexperience awakened me, I kissed him being a little more intimate, and we got undressed and dirty again, thing we didn’t mind in the least.
But this is not Pretty Woman, and I’m not trying to show the twisted truth at twilight as the script writer did in that film, so I’ll tell you the end we had. I like being realistic, I hate masking the truth or being insincere. As well as I can’t accept having sensibility in my life without the rashness, I can’t accept people who try to paint life full of colors hiding its coarseness.
He got inside my sex from behind, while I, half supported on the bed, was praying for the little sponge to accomplishing its role. Then, Eduardo stopped briefly and told me worried that this way he would last centuries to cum. Which means, practicing the process of the intercourse would last longer than doing a blow job. Sheet, I thought a bit desperate, as far as we had come!. You silly, but you have more than twenty minutes left. Damn! Why don’t you relax and enjoy? Why my rashness doesn’t pass it on to you a bit?.
I started to plot different possibilities. It cross through my mind some position which I would threw him, and by the way, with my choreography, he would has cum when I wanted to.
Also, I thought about to stop him worrying, try to relax him or come back to felatio. But simultaneously in my thoughts, he had already taken action, a very simple action that was to get out of my inside. Something placed right under his nose alarmed him more than it was necessary: a little drop of blood on the tip of the condom. A little damn drop that was for him the straw that opened the camel bag, since I suppose that he imagined that after a drop a river can flow.
The little sponge had been a break, but it wasn’t a miraculous solution.
He suggested to stop and we came back to the shower, while I swore myself I was never again working with my period, no matter how many debts I was plagued by.
There wasn’t neither a chance to fix it nor a way to know Eduardo’s final conclusions.
I wasn’t going to mask the situation, it was quite enough to offer him my apologies, and you can’t go back in time and torment yourself thinking about the “and if..”.So I got dress and I left as elegantly as I could.
He didn’t look annoyed at all, but still tried to be understanding. He was one of my kind, not really enthusiastic about being in conflicts or in a jam, and I suppose he noticed my worries and the guilty feeling I had. So he addressed me a few comforting words and said goodbye to me kindly.
I never saw him again, and It would be difficult to, since I left soon the agency through which he hired me.
Sometimes I think hard about him voluntarily, since every so often, this has made me bump into people. I try to think about what he might had thought when I left, but I don’t think it over, and instead I recite his sentence as if it was a mantra, “could I make love to you?”
Of course you can, Eduardo, and if you read this text, call me please.
(**tigresas blancas http://smoda.elpais.com/articulos/tigresas-blancas-las-diosas-del-sexo-oral/4001 )