I had never been so close to a girl as sensual as Natasha, but now, I would have this raunchy Stratford escort all to myself for sixty whole minutes. I would get to enjoy her company, and her undivided attention would be on me the whole time. For a slice of her life, pleasing me would be her top priority. She seemed young, probably only a few years older than my eighteen years of age, but she was undoubtedly just as skilled as the more mature escorts are. That explained why she was one of the top rated escorts displayed on their official website. After the next hour, she would have one more five star rating to her name—mine. I was certain that my experience with her would be just as fantastical as the experiences her previous clients had had with her. I’d seen from the reviews that previous clients kept returning, and surely they wouldn’t if they didn’t cherish every moment spent with her, or would they?
I would be a pathetic liar if I said I wasn’t nervous. If Natasha hugged me, she would definitely feel my thumping heart. I was that nervous.
Who wouldn’t be? The fact that I’d never been so close to a woman as hot as Natasha—was enough to put me in this state. She was dressed in a casual flare skirt and a strapless blouse—an everyday outfit my next door neighbor would wear. But her fleshy curves were way more than the typical girl next door figure. I didn’t know what size her breasts were, but they were way past average, she was a very busty escort indeed. They were firm and round, completely filling up her stretchy blouse. I couldn’t wait to cup them and feel them fill up my palms just the same way they filled up her blouse. Her flared skirt was only long enough to cover up her ass, and from the way she sat on the edge of the bed with her legs crossed, I could vividly see her white panties peeking out from between her legs.
When booking for an hour of her time, I’d specifically requested she wore an everyday outfit with a sensual touch to it. She’d perfected the look, in a way I found really enticing. Her hair was packed in a pony, just as I’d requested, and her feet were shod in patent leather stilettos, adding a touch of elegance to her sensual five foot six frame.
“You don’t have to be nervous,” she said.
It was impossible for me to be anything but nervous. Natasha had been with so many men that she had become fluent at interacting with them, completely understanding them, and fucking them in the way most pleasurable to them. And I—well, I had no doubt I would be the most inexperienced client she would ever have. While she had been with enough men to give her mastery in the art of seduction and pleasure, I had never been with a girl.
Natasha Brooks would be my first. So it was only natural I was nervous.
Unsure of how to respond to the words she’d spoken, I quietly closed the door behind me. Stepping further into the bedroom, I reached into my pocket and retrieved the envelope containing her money. I placed it on the table off to the left side of the room.
“You’re free to count to make sure it’s complete,” I said, trying hard not to stutter.
“Thank you,” she said, but made no attempt to go count the money. All smiles, she rose to her feet and advanced toward me. “You look really good, Mr. Dawson.”
“Anthony,” I said, not wanting her to stand on ceremony. “Call me Anthony, please.”
“Anthony.” My name rolled off her sugarcoated tongue.
“Yeah, and thanks for the compliment. You actually don’t look bad yourself.”
Was I fucking serious? She looked stunning! So stunning that I wanted to fast-forward our small talk and get down to the steamy part of our meeting. But I didn’t think I had the balls for that, so I let the small talks continue for as long as she wanted. Moments passed and she made no move to get sexual with me. I knew at that moment that she wanted me to make the first move.
Don’t get me wrong. I enjoyed every moment of my conversation with her, but sex with her would be even better. Twenty minutes was gone already; it had wheezed by so fast, it could have been twenty seconds.
The conversation with her created the perfect atmosphere. It made me calm and cozy in her presence, with a feeling like I’d known her prior to now. In a way, it felt like I was speaking to my girlfriend—I hadn’t had one in months, so I could confidently say that this GFE escort was great at what she did. It wasn’t everyday a random stranger made me so relaxed and comfortable around her. Sure, that was the purpose of the conversation, but now that the purpose had already been realized, I saw no reason to delay the main deal.
She flung her head back and laughed heartily to a line I said. I found it cute, sexy, and mesmerizing. I’d never thought I was the funny one. I smiled at her, but a serious look was quick to overcome my face, making me stare deeply into her hazel eyes. Her amusement started to dissipate, and although a sliver of it stayed back on her face, I could see a similarly serious look hardening her features.
“I want to fuck you, Natasha,” I said.
She smiled. “Took you so long to say that, eh?”
“Take off those clothes, Natasha,” I said, feeling a little bolder.
She ran her tongue over her bottom lip. My cock jerked wildly in my pants. God! I wanted to fuck her so bad. I wondered how I’d been able to survive so long without sex. At this point, when I was only a step away, I didn’t think I could hold back any longer. The hunger for some juicy pussy would definitely kill me.
“How about you come undress me yourself, pretty boy?” she asked in a sultry voice that made my cock even wilder.
Damn it! I am done holding back. I crossed the room to meet her, and her eyes glowed with lust as she looked down at my cock. It was no longer the limp flesh I’d walked in with. The sight of her and the thoughts of fucking her had roused it from its state of inactivity. Now it was long and thick, hard enough to tear through her and make her scream her heart out. But it wasn’t the hardest it could go. Only a minute and it would be fully hard, fully stretched and hard as a rock.
Once I halted in front of her, I grabbed the hem of her blouse and made to pull it up, but her slim arms encircled my neck. She pulled me in to her, and her lips crushed against mine. She kissed me hard and deep, standing on her tip toes to meet my six foot frame. Her lips were rough against mine, kissing me in a way I’d never been kissed before, as though she was just as sex-starved as I was.
I parted my lips wider to suck in a breath. She took the opportunity to slip her tongue into my mouth. Being a good French kissing escort, she flicked her tongue around, exploring my mouth as though she were searching for a hidden gem, and while she was at it, her hands slid down my neck until they settled on my chest. She undid the buttons on my blue shirt, her hands quickly slipping in to feel the warmth of my skin. My shirt dropped to the floor in no time, and as she worked her fingers around my belt to rid me of my pants, I reached once again for the hem of her blouse. This time, she let me grab it. She detached her lips from mine, letting me pull the blouse over her head.
Once the blouse was completely off, her lips were on mine again, her tongue getting back to work. Her breasts were shapely and beautiful. They heaved in her bra cups as she took deep breaths. Still kissing her, I slid the straps of her bra down her shoulders, and then I reached around the bra, my fingers occasionally slipping in and put as I searched for the hook. These things always came with hooks, right?