Hard

4. Jett-1

JettI stared at the pictures as I received the next response. She had a beautiful body. Not so skinny that she was flat, without the womanly curves that made everything in the bedroom so much more fun. But she wasn’t heavy either. Just built like she was made for s*x. I had a hard time believing that she hadn’t indulged in that particular sin just yet.

Maybe this is all a sham.

I thought about it. It was a lot of money to spend on someone who wasn’t as advertised. Still, she was also an incredibly beautiful woman. And from what I could tell, there wasn’t a damn mark on her.

My eyes trailed over her soft curves. Her breasts were slightly larger than average and her n*****s, in the picture, were hard. And a nice dusky pink. I followed the line of that lovely tit, the slow curve beneath, and trailed down her cinched waist to her flared hips. I stared at where her thigh lifted up ever so slightly, hiding her p***y.

And f**k, I wanted to see that.

My body was already responding to her. My c**k was growing hard in my pants, and I hadn’t even see her face yet. Or her snatch. I wanted to see that desperately. Was she shaved or just trim? What did her lips look like? I was willing to bet they were the same dusky pink color as her n*****s. Was she wet in the picture? I wondered how she took care of herself if she didn’t have s*x. Her fingers? A toy, maybe?

And with that came the onslaught of images. Thick leather straps wrapped around that tight little body of hers, pushing her breasts together, hooked up to a collar at her neck. Maybe she’d like some open-crotch panties, too. Then I could take her whenever I—

I shook my head to clear it of the hazy thoughts.

This is dangerous, a voice in the back of my head whispered, but I pushed it aside.

I knew what I was doing. I’d decided that this was the opportunity I was waiting for. A second chance. I would be good to this woman. Show her what I liked and awaken what she liked. Maybe she’d even be semi-permanent.

Doing my best to not get ahead of myself—a losing battle if ever there was one—I went back to my emails and saw that I had a response. She’d agreed to the terms and set some of her own.

She wanted another half a million for the whole weekend. My d**k had already decided we’d pay. And she wanted half up front.

Can’t argue with that, I thought. It’s just good business.

I quickly agreed and asked for her number so we could text and correspond before meeting. This one took a little longer, but eventually I received an email with that, too. I tried it out immediately.

Beautiful.

A second later, she texted back, Me?

Unless someone else was in the picture.

There was a long pause, then, No, that was me. And you?

What about me?

Was that you in the picture?

I grinned a little. I thought the shot of my abs might prove a little more enticing. Not that the money wasn’t.

Yes, I responded. We should discuss the terms.

It was a while before the woman finally answered and I was half nervous for just a second that she’d reconsidered the whole thing. But then my phone buzzed.

It’s late. I have work tomorrow, but text me the details. I’ll respond when I can.

I sent a quick okay, then I asked one last question. What’s your name?

Allie.

I licked my lips as I set the phone down. Leaning back in my chair, I put together the few details I had of her. Her wicked body, smooth and shaped just right. Her name. Sweet, normal, promising. I wondered where she worked. A strip club? With that body, it wouldn’t surprise me, but she didn’t seem like a stripper type. There wouldn’t have been this much hesitation about sleeping with me – and she wouldn’t be a virgin. I knew the difference between a stripper and a prostitute, but if you were okay with one, you were generally fine with the other, too. And what woman was okay with taking off her clothes for a living, but was a prude when it came to s*x?

Still, I wouldn’t mind a private show. I’d give her something to wear. Maybe something cute, innocent. Then make her take it off a piece at a time while I watched.

My c**k twitched, reminding me that it was still eager to meet this woman and make good on our arrangement. She was a virgin, so I reminded myself to be good to her. To make her enjoy it before I got what I needed out of it. I needed to be careful with her, to ease her into what I had planned for the weekend.

I pulled up her picture on the laptop again. It wasn’t overly kinky and it didn’t show me her tight little p***y, but there was something about it that had me rock hard.

Maybe it was because I knew no other man had touched that yet. Maybe it was just the excitement of having my way with her. I didn’t know. All I knew was that I needed something from her and she seemed willing to offer it.

I unzipped my pants and pulled them down enough to slip out my large d**k. I was throbbing, the mushroomed head of me slick with my own lubricant. God, I wanted her. I palmed the head, then used the lube to slide down the shaft. I gripped myself hard and began to jerk myself off. My eyes remained fixated on the picture, lending fuel to my imagination.

She had a perfect, round ass. I wanted to spank it, just until it was red. Not overly sore, but a little tender. And those t**s… I wouldn’t mind seeing them bounce. She’d agreed to the tattoo, but staring at those erect n*****s made me wish I’d asked her to let me pierce her, too. She’d look good with n****e rings. Something to tug on…

I continued to stroke myself, starting from the base of my c**k and traveling up the shaft to the head. All the while I thought of the things I could do with her.

I’d tie up her hands, but not behind her back. No, I’d pull them above her and hang her from the hook. Maybe she’d need a little support, so I’d put it over the bed and let her knees just touch it. Then I could do as I pleased with her. Maybe I’d put a blindfold over her eyes first. That way she wouldn’t see the sensations coming.

The feathers across her n*****s, chased by clamps. The crop across her perky, full ass.

My mind filled with images of her as I jerked myself harder and faster. My climax was coming before I managed to even gag her in my mind. It was unreal and more satisfying than anything I’d had lately.

“God, I hope she’s that good in person,” I murmured to no one.