So we had a lot of back and forth emails. Client seemed a little anxious. I was about to give up on him for asking my availability one too many times then not following through but then he emails me at just the right time looking for "now". It does involve a drive out to a beautiful Maryland country home. Nice winding tree-lined driveway. Must be pleasant to arrive home to such bucolic affluence after the day's work.
He's definitely edgy and he's been drinking but nothing threatening. Besides, he's a small chubby man, I would say late 50's, no taller than 5'6" or so. Bald, round face and features, not without a smidgen of cuteness to his short rounded stature. He does offer me a glass of wine but I politely decline. A few awkward questions are posed and I'm worried that he's got a touch of cold feet. He does eventually concede that "You're a goodlooking kid" so I express my desire to be shown to the bedroom and we're off. I move in for the kiss and it's well received, I can tell, however, that he's intimidated by me. I do enjoy that edge.
I unbuckle his belt and undo his fly but he's not hard. He proceeds to strip me too kissing and licking the newly exposed skin as he goes. So far so good but he's not getting hard. He sheepishly removes my sock and pressed to sole of my foot against his cheek before sucking my toes. He then switches to my ass and finger it gently before tonguing it vigorously. He's not holding back but he's still soft. Then he lays back panting, "do me" he says. I have to admit as I rub his feet, they're not manicured enough in appearance for my taste and I do not want to rim him either. So I drop his foot and lift his arms and begin to kiss and lick his sweaty underarms. He groans approval, a look of bliss on his face and I move down to his still worryingly flaccid penis. It's smaller than average and showing no signs of becoming erect. After what seems like a long time trying I tell him he's getting fucked instead which he reluctantly agrees to. I lube him up and put the condom on. He has nice round white buttocks, he's tight at at entry and soft and sweet upon penetration. I thrust into him hard making a smacking sound with my hips against his buttocks on each thrust. He's breathing heavily eager for my orgasm which I give him loudly as I spurt out mutual satisfaction deep inside him.
As far as I'm concerned we're done at this point but my my client wants more and becomes indignant when I mention time. He's quite visibly drunk too. He eventually concedes, not without seriously irritating me. When it comes to the cash I can tell he's short. He admits it before I even say anything. I used to be terribly shy about the money part, but I realized that was stupid. I'm a whore and I know it. My clients are not shy about sex so why should I be bashful about my cash reward. I tell him it's not acceptable and offer to drive him to an ATM but as I suspected the nearest is several miles away and he's clearly too drunk to drive. He start with a litany of mutually exclusive excuses: he can't afford that much, (he clearly can), other guys charge far less. I'm furious at this point and questioning my policy of never asking for cash until afterwards. It reassures both parties that neither is law enforcement when sex is initiated before money is sought. Now, I'm learning why it's not always such a good idea.
I have never had an issue with payment before and I'm surprised at how furious I am. I drove for forty minutes late at night on this clients whim to be offered whatever notes were left in his leather wallet. I get the impression that he had no idea what cash was on him in the first place. He has certainly rubbed me up the wrong way.What pisses me off is that he's not apologetic in the slightest. He's screwing me over and he thinks it's amusing. I'm quite a bit taller and stronger than he is. I'm not a violent person and although I'm confident I could could take this white collar drunk in a single swipe I'm not looking to escalate this into something nasty. He could have a gun or something else, he might call the police. I'm trying to think how to play this situation so as to intimidate him a little without resorting to the kind of threat that could escalate an argument with a drunken executive in what has become the early hours of the morning. He's standing there chuckling to himself and I'm having a hard time keeping my cool. I don't think I can leave this situation as is. The idea of him waking up in the morning in his multimillion dollar home and laughing at how he got me to drive from DC for whatever chomp change was in his wallet is just not something I can tolerate. It's like being robbed, that money became mine as soon as his lips touched mine. That's the way it works. There are no negotiations after the fact. He's laughing at me because I'm standing there clueless like a deer in headlights and he knows I wont hit him. This is a total affront and I have to do something.
I walk to the beside table and and pick up his wristwatch. It's a Rolex, I slide it onto my wrist. There's an instant reaction.
"That's not funny! The worst thing you can do is steal from someone, is that what you are...a thief?"
His expression is a little more sober now. I have to admit as hypocritical as it is, it stings to be called a thief. For a split second, it bothered me to be though of as a thief. That surprised me, I thought he might call me a whore. That wouldn't have bothered me in the slightest. I would have even enjoyed that maybe. But he didn't and the calm and polite tone he took had quenched my rage entirely. It seemed unwarranted now and I was about to take it off under the shaming glance of this portly little republican when he left the room. He came back with more bills, fives, tens and twenties. He was still more than eighty dollars short. He said he took them from his sons room. I handed him the Rolex suddenly very ashamed of myself. For reasons I'm not quite sure of, I suddenly wanted to regain his favor. I thought maybe if I knelt down in front of him and unzipped his fly that it might remedy the situation. I have never known a man that was not softened and appeased by the sincere desire to fellate him, but it didn't seem right. The mutual satisfaction of consideration was destroyed.
I like to think of what I do as a form of unorthodox therapy. I'm unusual in my taste and I'm often attracted to my clients, even when I'm not, I can still enjoy bringing a man to orgasm. It's something you have to have respect for. The last time I felt like this is when I was a waiter in my teenage years and had clients skip out on their check. Maybe I'm not in a position to moralize, but it's hard to tolerate someone who relishes the prospect of taking without paying when payment is so obviously not beyond their reach.