First-Time All Female Sex Worker Session
A story combining business and pleasure. In this tale we meet Carla, an experienced escort, and Tess, a woman who buys her first all female sex worker session.
The streaming water hit my naked skin hard, hot and cathartic. I stood under the shower and enjoyed having time to focus on the night’s plans. I lathered up, letting my hands roam over my breasts, soapy fingers sliding over my nipples. The job was different from usual. A woman this time.
I’d fucked plenty of women before of course, but what was unusual was a woman actually paying for me to come do it. My usual clients were men of all ages, income, shape and size. I turned the prospect of a new job, this new client, over in my mind. Did it really matter? No. Fuck, I was actually looking forward to it. My fingers roamed in their cleaning duty, sliding between my legs to where my excitement had gathered along with the streaming lather under the steamy water. The temptation to toss myself off right then and there in the shower was strong but I managed to just about keep a hold of myself. Clients could always tell if you were genuinely turned on, and were more likely to rebook an enthusiastic girl. Might as well use that sex drive for my leisure-turned-business pursuit. My strong libido was such a great earner.
There hadn’t been much on the email that came through about the job. Gender, obviously, and I’d quickly replied that no, a woman wasn’t a problem, I’d told them I was bisexual when I joined. Age, 26. Younger than me but old enough. Clean bill of sex health. Something I was glad I insisted on being checked before any client call. Address. I’d booked a taxi which was due to pick me up in less than an hour. I’d better quick-step it out of the shower if I wanted to be dried and dressed in time.
The battle raged on. My mind was telling me that this was probably a mistake, that she wouldn’t turn up and when she did she’d take one look at me and laugh. Was I pathetic? Was I pretty enough? My body, meanwhile, was telling me not to listen to my worry-filled mind, but to listen to my cunt instead. It was begging me, loudly, for some attention. Begging for attention from another woman, to be specific. As it had been doing for months now.
The fantasy had grown over the past few months ever since I’d read that book on loan from a mate, who had absolutely insisted upon it. Perhaps to tease, perhaps to shock. Its pages filled with steamy, torrid lesbian sex, sex the likes of which I had never even thought about, sex which I could never have imagined in all my wildest midnight imaginings and sex which I didn’t even know was possible. Sex which I now needed. The urgency of this need had grown from a seed of fantastical wonder into tonight’s reality.
I’d picked the easy route, perhaps, but the website I’d found was welcoming and professional and not at all seedy or shame-ridden as I’d feared. The models to choose from were breathtakingly glamorous, with smooth skin in cream, tanned or dark tones and semi-clad in teasing, provocative lingerie. My stomach had been somersaulting the whole time I’d surfed the website – a combination of nerves and fiery tingles of desire. In fact the arousal had been so overwhelming that I’d reached for my Rampant Rabbit at least 3 times in just an hour of looking.
My body mostly satisfied for the moment, I was calm enough to make my choice. The decision was clear; I needed to do this, I needed to book an escort – but which one? Finally I chose a confident looking brunette with ample breasts and wide hips, the curvy feminine look I’d always admired. A stark contrast to my almost androgynous figure. There was no envy though, only admiration and a tidal wave of lust which was already threatening to engulf me again as I remembered her photographs.
There was no time for that now. I had to prepare for this evening where I’d finally face the reality of my lesbian fantasy.
I decided to go all-out femme fatale for this one. Seemed appropriate. Black lace button-through blouse over a silk cami, matching black lace pencil skirt, teamed with black back seam sheer lace top hold-ups and my guaranteed good time black fuck-me heels. This curve enhancing outfit sat exquisitely over my black satin bra and panties, and the sensation of the fabric moving over my freshly smooth vulva and lips as I walked was already driving me to distraction. Focus, Carla. Focus.
A sparkle of jewellery, a spritz of Chanel. I checked the time. 10 minutes until the taxi. Time to double check my handbag. Tissues, breath mints, wet wipes, lipstick, eye pencil, wallet, keys – oh, and protection. Dental dams which I’d managed to procure, as well as my condoms which were in there already, of course.
A final quick check in the full length mirror and I was ready to go. I heard my taxi pull up outside. Oh yes, this girl was in for a good time tonight. The client, too.
One final hefty shove and the door closed. It had taken the past few hours and a lot of mess to finally decide what to wear, but after pulling absolutely everything out of my wardrobe and subsequently struggling to stuff it all back in again I was fairly certain I’d made a good choice. Those jeans that made my arse look fantastic and a slim cut tee to emphasise what breasts I had. Push up bra, obviously. Those sexy panties I’d bought this morning, as I didn’t think my usual M&S cottons were quite appropriate for the occasion.
Taking a step backwards and praying that the wardrobe would remain closed this time, I did a quick final check of the room. Fresh sheets on the bed, toys, wipes and tissues discreetly placed in the bedside drawer. When it had been too late to chicken out of the whole thing I’d made the sensible decision of letting my friend know what was going on. Well, maybe not all of it. She knew I was having ‘someone’ over and it was a ‘date’. Kind of true. In any case, if I didn’t check in with her at 11pm she was under strict instructions to come round and act as knight in shining armour.
What wasn’t perhaps so sensible was the large glass of white wine I was pouring now I was back in the kitchen. I needed something to steady my nerves if I wasn’t going to look like a total dork upon opening the door to this woman. I took a few gulps of it and my thoughts raced about tonight. What was going to happen? What would she do to me? Was this a total mistake or the best decision I’d ever made?
Shit, I can hear a car approaching…
The taxi came to a stop outside the address. A block of flats in a normal, suburban area. Paying the fare I stepped out and ignored the driver’s final leers at my legs. That’s all you’re getting mate, a glimpse – anything more and you can pay for it. I’d almost passed him a business card but didn’t want to provoke him further. His hungry eyes had already had quite a feast on the drive there. I made a mental note to ask if there were any submissive clients into tease & denial.
Right. Number 5. I pressed the buzzer, and after a couple of seconds a timid sounding voice grated through the speaker.
“It’s Carla, you booked me?”
A clearing of her throat.
“Oh-oh yes, of course. Come right up.”
The unlock mechanism buzzed and I pushed the door. Her flat was easy enough to find on the first floor and I knocked on her door. One final deep breath and I was ready to greet and please my new client.
Placing the handset back on the receiver I inwardly cringed. I sounded like a complete idiot. The woman probably thought her a timid mouse. I’d have to do better. I shook my head, as if to shake myself out of it in the few moments it would take Carla to reach my door.
The sharp, confident knocks on the door didn’t help my nerves in the slightest but I swallowed them back and went to let her in.
Oh my god, she’s beautiful.
“Hi, erm… Tess, isn’t it? This is the right place, yeah?”
“Yeah, yeah sure… come in.”
My little flat had never been graced with such glamorous femininity before. As I followed her into my lounge, eyes unable to stop gazing at her gorgeous figure, I felt embarrassed about my normal clothes, my uncoiffured hair and barely-there makeup. Carla’s professionalism really shone, though.
We sat on the sofa and, after shrugging off her jacket to fall off behind her, she took my hand and moved closer to me.
“First time, is it?”
“Yes… and with, you know, a woman.”
“Don’t worry. I’m here for your pleasure and I know it’s going to be a fantastic night.”
I breathed out my relief at her understanding and kindness. Now she was here I could finally start to enjoy what I’d dreamed about for so long.
I could tell she was nervous as soon as she opened the door. Poor girl. I’d gone full-on with the seduction attire tonight as well, led by the clit since that distracting shower. She looked totally overwhelmed. I thought she was actually going to back out for a minute, tell me I’d got the wrong address or something, but then she invited me in. Good girl.
At first glance she was average-looking but upon closer inspection I could tell she was barely wearing any makeup. Impressive cheekbones and full, kissable lips. Yes, she’d definitely do. Her outfit wasn’t doing her figure many favours – I’d much rather see legs than denim – but there was time for all that. In any case, tonight was meant to be about the client and what the client wants. Naughty Carla. Calm. Down girl.
After some time calming and chatting with Tess in the lounge, I suggested we make our way through to her bedroom. Tess had had a couple of glasses of wine at that point, but I’d opted for some water instead. I needed a clear head so I could work with professionalism as well as keeping my own arousal in check.
I led the way to her bedroom, taking my bag with me. This girl, Tess, wasn’t going to take control so someone had to – and that someone was me. Grabbing her hand I urged her on with me and Tess looked grateful and relieved. She really was nervous, poor girl.
Once in the room I chucked my bag on the bed then followed her lead with regards to what she wanted. Offering her my body I encouraged her to undress me, starting with the buttons down my lace shirt, then slipping off my pencil skirt and tugging the cami off over my head. I wore only the black satin lingerie, stockings and heels, which I kicked off to be even more comfortable. She offered me her body as well, letting me undo her jeans. I slipped my fingers between the waistband of her panties and her soft stomach, causing a gratifying sigh to escape from her mouth. I idly wondered if she was natural or shaved. I’d soon find out.
First, I tugged at her t-shirt and she let me take it off. Her small but pert breasts came into view, filling my mind and body with thoughts and sensations that couldn’t be ignored. Thinking about what I was going to do to her was making my panties wet, and I let my fingers roam a bit further south inside her underwear. Her pubis offered me a light coverage of carefully trimmed hair to tease my fingertips. I couldn’t wait to see if she was as wet as I… to see it for myself with my eyes and feel with my fingers. I dreamed about tasting her with my tongue.
I cleared my throat and asked if she were okay.
“Yes… yes. Just enjoying. Everything’s fine.”
I nodded. Fine? I’d have to remedy that. Fine wasn’t good enough, especially if I wanted to convert her into a regular.
I delved my fingers further still, until they hit her slippery lips. As my fingertips touched her outer labia, our eyes met for a second and neither of us could resist any more. Our mouths crashed together in a hungry, searching kiss, and her hands were around my neck, then around my back clumsily searching for my bra clasp. Impatiently I broke from the kiss and removed my now wet fingertips from her lower region and undid it for her. She blushed, shy at her inexperience no doubt, and gave me a quick, grateful look as I shrugged the bra to the floor. She still had jeans on; this wouldn’t do.
Head pounding with ideas, body surging with adrenalin and need, I made my move. I could sense that Tess was just as desperate for this to happen as I, and I pushed her backwards, on to her primly made bed. Her face was a mixture of surprise and relief. Relieved at someone taking the lead. Someone who knew what they were doing, showing her just how to do it.
Pulling at the waistband of her tight jeans I gave a low growl of desire. She hurriedly helped me to remove them, boldly grinning now with a surge of confidence borne from my obvious want for her. I could tell she wanted me too – not just from the musky, delicious scent of her that rose to my nostrils when her jeans were finally in a crumpled pile by the bed, but from the sopping wet patch on her panties.
Putting my head down to her I enjoyed her smell with a carnal pleasure. Her hands were in my hair and mine were about her hips, holding her in place for my attentions. I nuzzled her clit through the slippery material, teasing her about what was to come. I placed my raised knuckles of a clenched fist against her there, still with the slippery fabric between us to intensify those feelings of being wanton, brazenly living out fantasies, and used my knuckles to stimulate her lightly at first, then with firmer strokes against and around her clit until she was whimpering aloud.
Pulling myself more upright, I kissed her face, her lips, letting her smell herself on my nose where I’d nuzzled her cunt. Slipping my hand around her back I undid her bra with one hand – sign of a pro – and flung it to the floor, lowering my mouth from her face to her delightfully hard nipples. One then the other. She was throwing out some impressive heat from her hungry pussy. I placed my sheer nylon clad leg between hers, allowing her to grind herself on my thigh, on the lace of the hold ups, lifting her hips up from the bed and mumbling the unintelligible language of the seduced.
Once I felt that she couldn’t take any more nipple torment from my lightly grazing teeth and the deft circles my tongue made on her areolas, I went for the killer move. After a short explanation I reached for my handbag, almost forgotten in the moment, and pulled out a couple of dental dams. Popping them in place I switched around, removing my panties at the same time, so I was nakedly sat on her mesmerised face. Well, naked apart from the stockings. The thin barrier between her mouth and my shaved smooth pussy still allowing for the transfer of pleasure without the risk.
Her tongue darted out, softly at first, probing me like some food she’d never tasted and didn’t know if she’d like. I could feel her hot breaths from her nose come shallow and fast. Good girl, that’s it. More of that. I placed my dam over her puffy lips and leaking cunt, stretching the material safely between my fingers, and went to work.
I was completely lost in the moment. One minute I was in the lounge, sipping a second glass of wine and chatting absent-mindedly with this woman who had come to fuck me, the next minute I was using my shaking fingers to clumsily undress her perfect body and being allowed to actually touch her soft, smooth skin.
There were no coherent or complex thoughts racing through my mind, no galactic star bursts, soulful operas or outstanding pieces of romantic literature to recount as an accurate portrayal of my experience. There were just feelings, sensations and desire. All-encompassing lust and need, being tended to by this angel of sexual pleasure in my bedroom. In my bed. Inside me, swirling her fingers and using her thumb at the same time to drive my clit wild, soaked with the juices from my spoilt pussy.
It was while Carla was astride me, her tongue deep in my mouth, one hand pinning my wrists over my head, the other stretching down to take my clit between thumb and middle finger, teasing with rolls and pinches, that a loud buzz cut through the fun. My first thought was that she’d found my Rampant Rabbit in the bedside drawer but then my rational mind surfaced and the horror hit home. My friend! It must be 11pm already. The night had absolutely flown.
Looking at Carla who was baffled at the intrusion but quite obviously amused at my predicament I blushed apologetically and explained. She laughed.
“You’d better tell her that you’re safe and in good hands…”
“Very good hands indeed,” I retorted, springing up from beneath her on the bed and searching hurriedly for my robe.
This one was going to be interesting to explain.
“Please don’t go anywhere. I’ll be right back,” I implored Carla, who was lounging like some goddess wearing not very much at all on my bed. I wished I could take a photograph. I’d use it for every single future wank.
She simply smiled at me with a clit-twitching combination of wickedness and innocence.
Enjoy your own professional intimate encounter
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