Erotic Short Stories (18+)

Jake's Escort

Jake was 30 years old, a wiry guy with a mop of brown hair and a face that wasn’t ugly but didn’t turn heads either. He’d spent most of his life jerking off, at least once a day, sometimes twice if the mood hit him hard. Porn was his religion, his d**k was his preacher, and his right hand was the choir. He wasn’t a virgin in the technical sense; he’d fumbled through a couple drunken hookups in college, but nothing stuck. Women didn’t flock to him, and he didn’t chase them either. He was self-aware enough to know he wasn’t a catch, decent job, decent apartment, decent life, but nothing to write home about. His s*x life was a solo act, and he was damn good at it.

It was a Tuesday night, humid as hell, and Jake was sprawled on his couch, sweat sticking his t-shirt to his chest. The TV droned some bullshit reality show, but his mind was elsewhere. His c**k twitched in his boxers, begging for attention. He smirked to himself, why fight it? He’d been thinking about this all day. Shoving his hand down his pants, he pulled out his six-inch d**k, already half-hard and thick in his grip. It wasn’t a monster, but it got the job done. He spat into his palm, slicking it up, and started stroking slow, letting the tension build. His eyes fluttered shut, picturing some big-titted blonde from a video he’d watched last night, her ass bouncing as she rode some lucky fucker. His breath hitched, his fist pumping faster, the wet slap of skin filling the room.

Then the door creaked.

“Jesus f*****g Christ, Jake!”

His step-sister, Mia, stood in the doorway, her jaw dropped and her green eyes wide. She was 25, petite, with a sharp tongue and a habit of barging in unannounced since she lived two floors down. Jake yelped, yanking his boxers up so fast he nearly caught his d**k in the waistband. His face burned red, heart hammering as he fumbled to sit upright.

“What the hell, Mia? Knock much?” he snapped, voice cracking.

She didn’t even flinch, just crossed her arms and smirked, leaning against the frame. “Caught you with your pants down, huh? Nice d**k print, though. Didn’t know you were packing like that.”

“Shut up,” he growled, adjusting himself, still rock-hard and pissed about it. “What do you want?”

Mia laughed, a sharp, teasing sound. “Just came to borrow your blender, perv. But damn, you’re really going at it. What’s the matter, no girls lining up to ride that thing?”

“f**k off,” he muttered, but her words stung. She wasn’t wrong, he hadn’t had a real lay in years. She lingered a second longer, eyes flicking to his crotch with that s**t-eating grin, then sauntered off to the kitchen. “Don’t break my blender, asshole,” he called after her, but his mind was racing. The embarrassment burned, but her teasing lit something else too. He wasn’t a kid anymore. He was 30, goddamn it, and still jacking off like a teenager while his step-sister mocked him. Enough was enough.

By the time Mia left, blender in hand, Jake had made up his mind. He grabbed his phone, scrolled through some sketchy sites he’d bookmarked ages ago, and found what he was looking for: an escort service. No more fantasizing, no more solo sessions. He wanted the real thing, hot, wet, and willing. He picked a girl named Sasha, blonde, curvy, 28, with a smile that promised she’d f**k him silly. Two hundred bucks an hour. He texted the number, set it up for 9 PM, and spent the next hour pacing, d**k still throbbing from the interrupted jerk-off.

When the knock came, Jake nearly tripped over his coffee table to get to the door. Sasha stood there in a tight black dress, heels clicking on the floor, her lips painted red and her t**s practically spilling out. She smelled like vanilla and sin.

“Hey, handsome,” she purred, stepping inside. “You Jake?”

“Yeah,” he croaked, throat dry. “Uh, come in.”

She didn’t waste time. Kicking off her heels, she sized him up with a grin. “Nervous? Don’t be. I’ll take good care of you.” She peeled off her dress, revealing a black lace thong and nothing else. Her body was unreal, soft curves, perky t**s, a round ass that begged to be slapped. Jake’s c**k strained against his jeans, and she noticed.

“Looks like you’re ready,” she said, dropping to her knees. She unzipped him, tugging his pants down, and his six inches sprang free, pulsing and leaking pre-c*m. “Oh, nice,” she cooed, wrapping her fingers around it. She gave it a slow pump, then flicked her tongue over the tip, tasting him. Jake groaned, hands clenching at his sides as she sucked him deep, her mouth hot and wet, lips stretching around him. She bobbed her head, slurping loud, spit dripping down her chin. He lasted maybe two minutes before pulling her off, panting.

“f**k, I need to be inside you,” he rasped.

Sasha grinned, wiping her mouth. “Bedroom. Now.”

He led her to his messy bed, sheets crumpled, pillows askew, and she shoved him down, climbing on top. She straddled him, peeling off her thong, and holy s**t, her p***y was shaved bare, pink, and glistening. She grabbed his c**k, lining it up, and sank down just enough for the tip to slip inside. Jake’s eyes rolled back. It was tight, warm, slick, like nothing he’d ever felt. The head of his d**k throbbed as her walls gripped him, and he bucked up instinctively, wanting more.

“Easy, tiger,” she teased, but she slid down further, taking him inch by inch until he was buried to the hilt. Her cunt squeezed him like a vise, wet and pulsing, and he groaned loud, hands gripping her hips. She started riding him, slow at first, her t**s bouncing as she rolled her hips. He watched his c**k disappear into her, slick with her juices, and the pleasure hit him like a freight train, sharp, electric, better than any handjob he’d ever given himself.

“f**k, you’re tight,” he grunted, thrusting up to meet her.

“Like that, huh?” she moaned, picking up the pace. Her ass slapped against his thighs, the sound filthy and perfect. He couldn’t take it anymore, he needed control. Flipping her onto her back, he spread her legs wide, her p***y gaping and dripping. Missionary was next, and he slammed into her, balls deep, her t**s jiggling with every thrust. She clawed at his back, moaning like a porn star, and he f****d her harder, the bed creaking under them. Her cunt sucked him in, wet and greedy, and he felt every ridge, every pulse as he pounded her.

“Turn over,” he growled, pulling out. She obeyed, ass up, face down, and he grabbed her hips, plunging back in doggy-style. Her p***y clamped around him, and he went wild, slamming into her so hard his balls slapped her c**t. She screamed, pushing back against him, and he felt it building, his c**k swelling, his nuts tightening. “Gonna c*m,” he snarled, and she just moaned louder.

“Do it. Fill me up.”

That was it. He thrust deep, the tip of his d**k kissing her cervix, and exploded. Hot spurts of c*m flooded her, his c**k jerking as he pumped her full. The pleasure was blinding, waves of it crashing through him, his whole body shaking as he emptied himself inside her. She milked him dry, her p***y twitching around him, and he collapsed, panting, still buried in her sloppy, c*m-soaked hole.

Sasha rolled over, smirking, his load dripping down her f*****g thighs. “Good boy,” she said, patting his chest. She got up, cleaned herself off, and dressed like it was nothing. “Call me anytime, Jake.” Then she was gone, leaving him sprawled on the bed, reeking of s*x.

Jake lay there, chest heaving, a massive grin splitting his face. His d**k was spent, sticky with her, and he didn’t give a s**t about the mess. For the first time in years, he wasn’t alone with his hand. He’d f****d a woman raw, felt her c*m-drenched p***y clench around him, and it was goddamn glorious. Mia could tease him all she wanted, he’d just banged an escort senseless, and he’d do it again in a heartbeat. Life was good.