The Working Girl Part One - Sex Stories

The Working Girl Part One

As he finished showering and dressing he left me with a quick, sweet kiss. "I'd love to see you again," he said softly, "soon, very soon." "Not a problem, you know how to contact me, I'd be happy to. In case my uh, wetness didn't let you know, I had a very pleasant time myself." He laughed softly. It was about the only 'soft' thing about him. He was about six three with a toned, but not bulky set of muscles and an eight inch cock that didn't seem to ever want to go down. He'd come twice in my mouth, and once inside me and seemed to get hard again instantly. He'd known how to use it, too, as I'd had a solid three orgasms while he fucked me so sweetly. And his wife didn't 'like' sex? Silly, silly girl. I'd asked and he'd said she was roughly the same size as I was, so his larger than average cock couldn't have been painful, but he said she had a bunch of hangups about sex. The little fool. He left moments later and I eagerly added him to my 'can't wait to see again' list, which is starting to get to be a sizable list. Oh, me? Yes, I'm a 'working girl', but no, I'm no hooker or streetwalker. I'm a courtesan, and a damned good one. Men come to me because they can't find the intimacy they seek elsewhere. It's not always about orgasms, (although there are plenty of those) it's about a guy forgetting his troubles, his bad marriage, his crappy job, whatever, for a little while. With me, he knows tenderness, caring, and, I might add, mind blowing sex. How did I end up here? I have ...

... a terrific family, so no issues there, other than a snippy mother who expects me to be close to perfect, I've never done any drug of any kind, and I rarely drink. So no other vices led me to this path, but I did want an education. I'd had one growing up, as we were well off, but not rich. Good schools, and Mother insisted one summer that I attend finishing school because she'd never done anything of the sort. She'd grown up poor, and wanted her daughter to be a Lady with a capital L. So at sixteen I got sent off to a ritzy school in Sussex, England for a year of learning to be a lady. The school was a blast as my English and European classmates taught me as much as the school did. I'd learned about the joys of other girls from my German roommate and a sweet girl from London showed me how to suck a cock perfectly with the help of her more than willing boyfriend. We'd also explored a three way which seemed like it was good fun as well. I came back to America with all the polished good manners you'd expect. I knew all the social graces, knew all the right people, and all the right things to say and do. My schoolwork hadn't suffered at all, either, flawless grades abounded, and it was time to look for colleges and universities. My grades alone would get me accepted anywhere, but money had become an issue as father had suffered some financial setbacks. No huge losses or foreclosure on our home or anything, but my college fund had been hit in order to stave off other problems. I ...