I am what I am. [FM], [FFM] [mast, oral, exh]

Call me what you like, I am a prostitute, a whore, a hooker, a slut, a woman of easy virtue. I really don’t care. I get paid to fuck. I fuck anyone with the money to pay me. I am still surprised with the number of men who ask me why I do it. I tell them some hard luck story, a poor childhood, runaway, hooking to eat, and that seems to satisfy them. Some nitwits want to “take me away from this tawdry life” but I refuse. I am not ready to stop.

So why do I do this? I like to fuck. In fact, I love fucking. I love a man’s cock inside me, any hole. I love it when I get to fuck two guys at once. One up the front, one in the ass, or in the mouth or any combination thereof, is fine with me. As long as I am fucking, I love it. It was something I loved doing, a hobby, and I turned my hobby into my income.

Some people turn their passion for writing into book sales. Others turn their passion for wood into a lifetime job and income. I did it with fucking. That’s all. I love fucking. I will fuck couples, having a tongue on me is important, but it doesn’t matter if it is a man or a woman’s tongue. I lick clit and suck dick with the best of them. I do have some rules though.

Clients I don’t know well, never, never get to fuck me without a condom. I don’t suck a cock without a condom, unless I know them, their wives and their kids. If a wife wants to fuck me, and you might be surprised at how many wives do, in a threesome with their husbands, and they fuck and suck him without a condom, then I will too. If the wife wants to lick me, then I return the favor. Otherwise, the natural look is out.

The first time I had sex I knew I was just going to love fucking. It took me quite a while to get to to point where I decided that I preferred sex over psychology. I had completed a degree in the subject, was looking for a career challenge when I realized I was actually bored fucking stiff with theoretical psychology. I wasn’t interested in running rats through mazes, or developing mind-numbing questionnaires asking numbnuts stupid questions about why they were fucking their children.

I wanted a more practical approach. I wanted to see people in their most raw form and what better way to see that than naked, stiff cocked, or wet pussied, nervous, handing cash over, frowning at having to use a condom, fearful afterwards they might catch something. In short, I wanted to see men at their most pathetic. What better way than by doing something I love, like fucking.

It wasn’t a completely smooth transition either. I had to find somewhere to hang my red light, as it were. For the first week or three I was spending money on ads, getting an occasional appointment, but one guy was downtown. I met him at this dive of a hotel, the kind of place where they rent rooms by the hour. I did him, and was in the process of cleaning up after he had left and some prick barged through the door complaining I was “poaching” on his territory. Well, I didn’t know. I managed to calm him down pretty quickly and apologized for not recognizing his right to the business in that hotel. We managed to come to an agreement that I would not make the mistake of coming to that establishment again. We also agreed that if he ever came near me I would cut his balls off and feed them to him.

He believed me, and seeing as I had a very sharp knife pressed against his dick, he didn’t have much of a choice. He couldn’t see how a smaller woman could overpower him, so I told him my father was a Navy SEAL, my mother and uncle were both Marines so I learned very early that size didn’t matter when you knew what you were doing in a physical contest. They made sure my brothers and cousins, especially the girls, knew what we were doing. He shouldn’t feel bad about being disadvantaged by someone with my background and I trained regularly with military personnel.

Complete bullshit of course, what really happened was he got close and managed to trip over my shoes, so I just helped him to the floor with the little judo I remembered from when I was a kid. I always kept a flick knife in my hand bag; I know it’s illegal and could get me into serious trouble if I ever used it. It was given to me at my first period, and has a sentimental value. I got that out before he could recover and made sure he felt its presence. It was all quite amicable after that, and as I managed to secure a rental office that afternoon, I never had to go near that place again.

The “office” had a store front, where I had a receptionist’s desk with a phone and some chairs. I deliberately made the place warm, but thick curtains made it all private. There were a suite of three back rooms, one I made into an office, one a massage bench for short termers and quickies and the other a full blown bedroom complete with a queen sized bed, soft furnishings and lighting. There was a bathroom between the office and massage room, which had a shower and full toilet facilities. I still do not accept walk-ins, all clients have to make appointments.

In an average week, I usually get between twelve and fifteen clients. A busy week can be over twenty clients, and a slow week, rarely less than ten. I am not cheap, by the way, pay top prices for a top shelf whiskey, same with women. Escort work is more lucrative, but simple appointment based services work best for me. I get plenty of sex, and my clients are mostly repeat business now or recommendations. The recommendations are usually couples, a rather lucrative sideline I developed quite accidentally.

The most unusual request came from a boy who had the money, but I wasn’t sure he was actually of legal age. I nearly sent him packing, but I didn’t, it was a slow week. I took his money, then he told me all he wanted me to do was to talk to him. He knew I was a “sex therapist” and when he worked up the courage, he asked if I could be naked. I did, he was happy someone was talking to him. Jeez, he was fucked up though. He had plenty of issues, but all he wanted was a parent to love him. My psychology degree came in handy here. He came to me about once a month for about six months, and then he told me his family was moving. I am glad I never fucked him, because I had to ask him how old he really was. He said he turned sixteen the week before this last visit. He hugged me, told me I had lovely tits and one day, he might come back and see me again. I’m still waiting.

The most unusual dick I ever saw was also the biggest. The problem was that it wasn’t straight. If it was straight, it would likely to have been something like a foot long. The poor guy had a terrible cut job and the knob was angled at about 60 degrees away from the shaft of the dick. The dick itself had been mangled while the guy was in “the service”. Likely one of those wars we have had in the not too distant present, and while it wasn’t quite a corkscrew cock, it wasn’t as straight as a dog’s hind leg.

Poor guy. I did learn to suck him, give him hand jobs. He would plug in, and it was lovely having that thing inside me, but he couldn’t keep it in at first. The knob would, sooner or later get so painfully uncomfortable he had to pull out. Sometimes, he would leave the condom behind, mainly because the pain would cause him to lose his erection and condoms were not made to fit on slack dicks, even of that size.

We did work out it though. I would sit on him, and he would slide into me. I would get as much of him inside me as I could. I would then not move, but would do my Kegels, pelvic floor exercises. That was the best I could do, because there was nothing quite like having that humungous cock in me. It would fill me, but it felt unusual. I could also tickle his nuts, sometimes massage his prostate from the inside, but only while using a latex glove. He would cum, eventually, and I admit, he was the first guy I fucked professionally without a condom.

For him, I was the only woman he had fucked in years. Most were horrified at what had happened to his cock but didn’t want it inside them. Many pitied him but that would be as far as it went. From there it was easy to work on his oral technique and he became very good with his tongue. As for me, my pelvic floor is still in excellent shape even after two kids.

He eventually found a woman, married her and had a couple of kids. The only time I heard from him after he married was when he thanked me for giving him his confidence back. He rang to let me know he was grateful for the time I spent with him. Only too pleased to help, but I would love to sit on his lap again.

To keep my “office” open, I did hang a shingle out front, as a counsellor. After all, I do have a degree in psychology; I was qualified and registered, still am, go to conferences at least once a year. That was my self-promised annual leave, the more exotic the location, the better for me. I will write the occasional letter to the professional journals, supporting this idea or pooh-poohing that one. I did write two papers on male and female sexuality for publication, one was accepted, the other wasn’t, oh well. The response was I didn’t have a large enough sample space. I didn’t tell them I was using my clientele, I thought that might cause me a problem or two.

The first time I nearly ran into trouble was when a couple turned up for an appointment. I wasn’t expecting her, him, but not her. It did flummox me a bit, but I made it clear that I was into sex therapy and counselling. (I guessed they would be outraged if they knew what I really did.) They were surprised as they were looking for couple counselling and guidance. It seems I was recommended by a client and knowing that client, it was likely one of those totally insensitive practical jokes some guys play. The couple were as uptight as they could get, but I was able to negotiate that hour and charged them fifty percent over my normal rate. I was astounded when they made a second appointment after just talking for an hour.

On the way out the door, the wife asked if I could recommend a sexual exercise they could practice before returning. I gave them the simplest one I knew, sit naked together and just touch each other, all over. Shower together, and wash each other, all over. Touch each other, gently, softly. If it leads to intercourse, then allow it to do so, but don’t force it, it is not a duty or an obligation, just touch and be relaxed.

The next time they came, they shared with me a lot more of their history. They met in a church, their families were deeply religious. They were both virgins when they married, less than a year before, and neither had any clue of what the fuck they were supposed to be doing in their relationship. I saw them as they were, both repressed emotionally, sexually and they were extremely unhappy. They tried the touching exercise and they had serious difficulty with it, they were that repressed. These people were in deep fucking trouble, and their lives were heading down the shit chute in a hurry. Thank god for the fucking churches, they keep hookers and psychiatrists busy all year round I thought.

I took them into the main back room, my workshop this time, and just sat them on the bed. I talked them through a simple exercise to touch each other’s bodies. They kept their clothes on and it was clear that he was embarrassed about touching her let alone touching her breasts. I then demonstrated for them, just how to touch each other. I couldn’t believe just how dangerously naive some people really are.

I put my arms around the wife and kissed her, then ran my hands over her back. I got him to watch, and when we swapped, I could see he was clearly embarrassed at the erection he was trying to hide. He held her and kissed her like he was a 13 year old. I had seen enough, and started asking questions.

No, they had sex because it was their duty. For her it was uncomfortable and sometimes painful. For him it was degrading and embarrassing. For fuck’s sake! This is the 21st fucking century, this sort of shit belonged in a different age, not this world.

I gave them both practical demonstrations on the simple skill of kissing. I kissed him, and got him to kiss me. Then I kissed her again, and guided her in kissing me. I got them to practice together, and when they were good enough, I told them to practice, often. I saw we were over-time; they could not wait to make another appointment. As they were leaving, she turned to me and hugged me, said thank you for listening and they would think about what had happened. Then she kissed me, and I mean, kissed me. My nipples were hard and my panties dampened quickly. Dammit, I thought, I don’t have another client for an hour and a half, too.

The vibrator got a bit of a workout then, and my next client had the ride of his life I think. He was an older guy, and was still quite florid when he left. I remember that one most clearly, and I think he did too, right until he died about a year later. I don’t mind older guys, they might be a little more hard work, but they tend to be really appreciative and most are kind lovers. Some are just selfish shits, but my older regulars are relaxed, comfortable and good lovers.

During the week, I got a call from the wife who asked if I could schedule a double appointment, two hours, well a hundred minutes. The next appointment came, and they turned up, on time. She was a little flushed, whereas he was the same sour faced, uptight male he had been before.

I started by hugging and kissing her, then hugged and kissed him. I felt his cock stir a little and when I sat them down, asked them to tell me about what had happened the last two weeks. They had practiced their kissing, a lot, and the wife told me that it was so much better, but… but what I asked. It all came out in a rush, that they really hadn’t gotten any further. I asked him to tell me what he felt when he saw me kissing his wife.

Clearly he was embarrassed, he stammered and I cajoled him to the point where he admitted that he was actually aroused by that. I took her into my arms and kissed her, and she kissed me back. After we broke, I then really put him on the spot and asked him if he was aroused after watching me kissing his wife again. He really stammered, went a bright red and shuffled his legs.

I told him it was actually normal to feel that. It was really sexy for most men to watch their wives kissing, touching, and being kissed and touched by another woman. He should not be ashamed of being normal. I took them to my work room and told him he was to watch.

I placed her on the bed, and lay alongside her. There I kissed her, touched her face, her arms, her neck. Then I began to undress her. She jumped at first, but I kissed her and told her it was all completely normal. I exposed her bra and then cupped her breasts, one at a time, while kissing her. I told them both that this is what he should be doing to her.

I reached around her back and undid the bra, exposing her breasts. They were a good size, 34D with largish brown nipples that were standing out. I cupped a breast and played her nipple between my thumb and pointer finger. Gently squeezing it, I pulled it outward, where she gasped at the pleasure I was giving her.

I took a nipple into my mouth, suckled her, she made it obvious she was being pleasured by this. I switched between breasts, and made sure she was well and truly aroused. I beckoned the man to come over and asked him to suck on her nipples. While he was clearly hesitant, he complied when she demanded he do as I asked. While he was suckling, I talked to him, giving him different ideas on how he could suckle on her.

I also told him that he would have to pay special attention to her nipples, especially after she had their first child. Many women find their nipples get hardened after being chewed on by baby, but many more report that they find it erotic in the extreme when their lover is suckling. I had not had a baby at that point so I didn’t know, I was passing on something I learned at college. I can now say with certainty, it is true, I love my breasts being suckled by whomever is fucking me, it is a real turn on for me.

I wasn’t sure what to do next, let it happen naturally or force the pace a little. I decided to be bold and told them that what they were doing was natural, fully human. That they should not be ashamed or afraid of what they are feeling, of what they are doing. They are only doing what is natural. I then told them both to completely undress.

She was naked in moments, he was a little hesitant. One look from her and he was naked with his fully erect penis proudly displayed for us to see. I didn’t want to miss out on this lovely looking prong, I tell you, so I joined them. They looked at me, somewhat embarrassed, as I undressed, but I told them that this was all part of what I do. Besides, they should not have to feel uncomfortable with me dressed and them not.

I laid him on the bed and told her that she should give pleasure to her husband in every way she could think of. She immediately went to straddle him, but I prevented her from getting on him. I told her no, there are other ways first, it’s called foreplay. I reached out and took hold of his dick, and explained how to give a guy a hand job. I showed her how to grasp his tool, to shuffle her hand up and down, making sure she wiped over the ridge of the glans. I then let her do it.

She grabbed it like it was a metal rod, but I explained how she would need to be careful. I explained to not hold too tight or pull too hard, otherwise she could tear the erectile tissue inside the cock and permanently damage it. I deliberately used the word cock, which surprised them a little, but I was determined to change their attitudes.

After she stroked him for a while, I then suggested she would want to take him into her mouth. They were both somewhat mortified by this suggestion. I explained that this too was natural. In fact, most of what they think about sex is actually unreasonable, childish or just priggish. I added in that if they do enjoy sex, then that does not make them bad people, it makes them human. The only way to really enjoy sex is to give to your partner freely, and take from your partner freely. This includes pleasuring your partner orally, intercourse, masturbation in its many forms, and not every one of those things needs to end in an ejaculation. It is incumbent upon the male to ensure that his partner, his wife, his lover, has an orgasm before he cums. The way to do that is to give her as much pleasure as he can mostly as foreplay, but also, sometimes, with intercourse, as a serious display of his love for her.

At this point she told me that I was the only other person to have touched her breasts, and the first to suckle them. Why didn’t that surprise me? He too admitted that apart from his wife the only time anyone touched his private parts, his words, was a doctor when he had a physical examination. Some surprise there, I am sure.

I asked if he had ever masturbated, and he shook his head red faced, saying he was warned about Onanism when a young boy reaching puberty. I almost laughed at his use of such an archaic term, but I managed to control myself. I told him that the only way we ever learned about our bodies was if we explored. If we never explore, how can we ever know what is right for us or not? I also explained that Jewish boys are circumcised as part of Abraham’s pact with God. Christian boys are circumcised because a rich lunatic, John Harvey Kellogg, (yes of that Kellogg family,) decided in the 1880s that circumcision was a remedy for masturbation. (A doctor, rich and a Seventh Day Adventist, see what I mean about the connection between religion and hookers.)

Besides, masturbation as part of foreplay was not a bad thing; in fact, he was enjoying it, wasn’t he, as I was slowly stroking his dick all through this.

I then leant over and tickled the end of his knob with my tongue. I followed that up with a full swipe of my tongue over the entire glans. Then I let his cock push my lips apart as I swallowed the shaft. Nice taste, he was. I sucked his cock a little, lifting my head up and dropping it down, trying to keep eye contact with the wife.
Her mouth was open, but whether that was her trying to emulate my actions or genuine surprise, I didn’t know then. I sucked on that slightly larger than usual prong, until I heard him moan with pleasure. I then encouraged her to do the same. I pointed out just how much pleasure he was getting from me sucking him, how much more would he get if it was her doing it? She wasn’t sure, and almost immediately gagged, she took too much in. I wasn’t going to stop her, let her find out for herself, I thought.

I then talked her through the process, let the cock push her lips apart, after all, with lipstick, women’s lips replicate her labia lips (not exactly, but the color is supposed to be close to a sexually aroused labia.) I told her to keep her teeth out of the way, use her tongue, relax the muscles in the back of her throat. Take it slowly, ease it in and out, use the tongue, time your breathing with the movement of his prick and relax. Repeat, over and over, until he was actually moaning like he was going to cum. I cut in then and told her to stop, for it was his turn to pleasure her.

I got him to kneel alongside her, while I was going to demonstrate what I wanted him to do. I started by kissing her, sensuously, and then ran my hand over her body, touching what I could. I ran my fingers over her mons, through her tight curls of pubic hair. She hadn’t ever trimmed her bush by the looks of it, and while it was no problem for me, it may have been for her husband. I would get to that later, but for now, let’s keep moving.

I gently ran my fingers over her mound again, and felt for the soft tissues of her vagina. I wiped my pointer finger up and down her slit, asking her to open her legs a little. While kissing her, my finger found her clit and I gently massaged it. (Don’t get too rough here guys, it is very sensitive, carrying twice the number of nerve endings your dick has.) Out the corner of my eye, I could see him watching, and his hand crept to his dick.

I bent my head and suckled her nipple, then, while I was playing with her pussy, I kissed her body, again and again. I made my way down to her fur and kissed it. It didn’t actually taste too bad, well, ok it really tasted like her, given my hands had spread the moisture of her cunt over her pubes. I pushed her legs apart, lowering my face to her lovely lips.

She wasn’t the first woman I had gone down on, but she was certainly the tastiest. I don’t know what she ate, or drank, but fuck, she was really delicious. I lapped her lips, I licked her clit, I just kept it up until I could feel her trembling, then, all of a sudden, she exploded in a frenzy of movement. She cried loudly, while flopping around. It was hard to hang on but I could hear her cries of delight. Finally, she had cum!

He asked me what did I do to her? I told him that all I did was give her pleasure.

When she regained her breath her comment was “What was that?” So I told her, that was an orgasm. She was astounded that something so pleasurable could have such an effect.

I then told him that he was to do exactly the same. He wanted to argue by pointing out that he had not ejaculated. I responded by telling him that a woman could cum several times and still go again, but a man could only cum once and then he would have to wait until he recovered, before going on. It was a better option to make sure his lover had more than one orgasm when lovemaking, it keeps her coming back for more.

It was obvious that she had not orgasmed before, she was asking so many questions. I told her to wait, I will answer her questions but later, I had another client coming in a while. She replied that if that was the case, then I had better show her how to do it properly. I thought about it and, looking at the clock, she was right. We were running out of time.

I got him to lie on top of me, to stick his cock into me, and show me what he was doing. All good, for him, not good for me. I got him off me and told her to roll over onto all fours. She did, after making sure she was well and truly moist, I then positioned him so he could enter her from the rear, and he slid into her easily. I talked him into timing his strokes, not just plunge in and out of her. I told him not to hold back, but to keep fucking her until he blew.

He went a bright red at the word, fucking, and gasped when I said blew. She said, do it! He did. He pumped her at a steady rhythm, his ass pushing in and out, his cock sliding up and down that tasty love tunnel. Slowly but surely he built a head of steam. I could see his skin flushing, his breath becoming more and more ragged then he shot his load into her. He pulled out of her and I told him to watch what happens next.

He moved away and I replaced his cock with my tongue. I wanted to lick the cum he had shot into her, out of her. I ran my tongue up and down her snatch, paying particular attention to her now opened love chute. I drove my tongue into her. I flicked my fingers over her clit, and soon, she too was cumming, again. Her spasms shot little jets of his cum out of her where my eager lips were waiting to suck it up. Fuck, I loved it. I loved the taste of their mixed juice.
As she calmed he was watching me, so I wiped any spare cum from around my mouth, then, as he was still half erect, I took his cock into my mouth to get any residual cum from him. That was like a warm vanilla drink. Fuck, it was nice.

They both took advantage of the bathroom and washed themselves, quickly. They paid and when they were leaving, she said that she wanted more, so made another appointment, but this time, she knew he was going on a church trip so would it be alright if she was to come on her own? Of course, I told her, and I would certainly be looking forward to it.

Later that week, the client who had recommended me made an appointment. When he arrived, he told me he worked with the husband, who’s performance at work was slipping. He was in serious danger of losing his job he was so desperately unhappy. My client knew I was not just a good fuck, but he felt also a very caring and loving person, and if he had thought of it he would have called and alerted me to what might happen. He also told me that the husband was getting his life back together, his performance at work was improving and if this kept up, he would be better than he was before.

Basically, my client liked the guy and wanted to help, so he recommended me. So, no practical joke, it was for real. I didn’t know it then, but this was to become a seriously large part of my business. Still is and I love that I can help couples out like this, young couples starting out, older couples who have been married for thirty years, but together out of habit, giving them all new leases on life. I don’t fuck them all, but most of them I do, and it is good intellectual and physical fun that kind of seriously close counselling, healing.

The wife’s appointment came about and within moments of her arriving we were on the bed, naked and giving each other pleasure. We had a sixty-niner, we scissored, we masturbated each other, but mostly, we held each other and caressed and kissed and orgasmed when we felt like it. I love that she came over my face then kissed it all off. She was really moving on. After she had made me cum, and that was such a turnaround from just a month before, she held me and kissed me, and told me that she loved doing that to me. Did that make her a lesbian?

No, I told her. One woman lover does not a lesbian make, I said. We discussed this and simply put, I suggested she loved it because I was the first person to make her cum. If it had been her husband, she would be very dubious about a physical relationship with any woman. As a lover, she was pretty good and would only get better, but her first responsibility was to her husband. It was that relationship that was more important than anything else, if she was committed to it. She was.

Over the course of the next year, they came to me as a couple, about once a month, or at other times, individually. It became clear though that their relationship was now on a much better path, so I suggested that the repeat business is lovely, but at some point, they would need to move on from me.

Over the last ten years we have not lost contact entirely. She visits me whenever she wants to talk or fuck or both. She did ask me if I was really a psychologist or a hooker once. I was honest with her and told her yes, I really am a psychologist, but why should that preclude me from being a hooker? I told her why I wanted to fuck a lot, and why I loved sex. The two jobs are not mutually exclusive, and I love that I could do both with her and her husband. She said she didn’t really care anymore, then made me cum. In the meantime, they had recommended me to another couple, would I mind helping them as I had helped her and her husband? Of course not, I would love to help.

I love my job.

Source: reddit.com/r/sexystories/comments/67v3kh/i_am_what_i_am_fm_ffm_mast_oral_exh

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