The Face-Painter Ch. 01
Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32
The following story is a complete work of fiction and fantasy. Any resemblance to persons living or dead is purely coincidental. Thank you for reading; and please take the time to vote, the authors do appreciate it.
“Oh fuck, yeah….that’s it,” I said with a groan as I looked down at the gorgeous blonde kneeling in front of me, her full wet lips sliding luxuriously up and down the shaft of my stiff cock. “Just suck it a little bit more, sweetheart, and I’ll give you that nice big load you want.”
As I ran my hands through her silky blonde hair while I worked my thick cock back and forth between her stretched lips, my eyes closed with pleasure and a soft smile came to my face as I thought about how I had got to this point…………..
Well, first of all, my name’s Connor Young. At 28, I was just a few years out of graduating from UNLV with a double major in English and Journalism. Las Vegas is still home, born and raised here. My father had come from New York a few years before I was born and had been a successful executive in a company that provided security for many of the major hotels and casinos in town. He was a great guy and provided a nice life for my mother, Victoria, and his three kids; me being the oldest, and my two sisters, Emma, 23, and Zoey, the baby at 18. Unfortunately, leukemia struck my dad a few years ago, just shortly after I had graduated from college. His estate allowed my mother to keep the nice house I had been raised in and what I received allowed me to make a decent down-payment on a nice little house of my own in a condo complex, and still have a little nest egg left over.
After my dad died, I stayed at home with my mom and younger sisters as Mom slowly got over the grieving process. I took a job with a small local rag and got my feet wet in the newspaper business; although doing articles on things like “Schools for Casino Dealers” was not really what I had in mind when I studied English literature in college. After a few months, my mom convinced me that I should invest some of my inheritance in real estate and thus, she helped me find a house in a new condo development that I now call home. I told her I would stay with her as long as she wanted, but she insisted that it was time I was out on my own; she would be fine.
“You’re not far away if I need a big man,” she said as she gave me a kiss and sent me on my way into the big bad world.
After a couple of years at the paper, I took a job as a free-lance journalist with an entertainment magazine. The money was good when I got work, and the inheritance my dad left me allowed me to be able to pick and choose jobs as I wished. Being able to pick the jobs I wanted and when I chose to work on them allowed me the freedom to do what I really liked to do, which was to do some writing of my own, maybe a novel; and also, to take advantage of what my parent’s genes had created in me; a pretty good-looking guy that enjoyed all aspects of sex.
At 6′-3″ and a solid 215 pounds, I’d never had trouble attracting sexual partners. I had dark wavy hair and what some people call “chiseled” features. Although I guess you could say I was clean-shaven, I usually sported a couple days growth of a scruffy beard that usually garnered me my fair share of approving looks on the street. I worked out regularly and still swam laps whenever I could, allowing me to keep in good shape; well-toned and definitely muscular, without being grotesquely over the top. I keep my chest and pubic area shaven and smooth, showing off a nice six-pack and sculpted abs.
Probably my main attribute was something I continually was thankful to my parents for; my cock. I have been blessed with a cock slightly over 10″ in length and so thick that the fingers of my own big mitt couldn’t touch the base of my hand when wrapped around it. The big mushroom head stood out even more from the thick shaft as the thick rope-like corona projected in bold relief about 2 ½” from the very tip. It was dead straight, with a tracing of gnarled veins looking like a road map of China as they fed my pecker with the pulsing blood necessary to fill such a monster. All in all, I was proud of the big powerful cock my parents had provided me with.
Another thing you should know about me is that I love to cum……a lot. And by a lot, I mean both ways; both how often I cum and the amount of semen I generate when I do cum. I prefer to cum more than one time per session, and I have the ability to recover from an orgasm in fairly short order. I am no superman whose cock never goes down, but I’m not one of those “one and done” guys either.
One of the most intriguing things that my sexual partners find about me is the amount of both pre-cum and cum I am able to produce. Most of them would say that “prodigious” would actually be an understatement. I usually have a continuous silky flow of pre-cum and then during each orgasm, I usually shoot anywhere between 12 and 20 good-sized shots of cum. I’d seen a lot of porno movies in my limited years, but I’d never seen anybody in any of those movies that could shoot as much cum as me. The only guy who I ever saw produce more was a German guy I’d seen who posted his own cum-shot videos on a website. Man, that guy was something, usually getting off around 25 canlı bahis good-sized shots before fading. I had no complaints about my own prowess, though. Whenever I came, the delicious orgasmic contractions just seemed to continue time and time again as I shoot wad after milky wad of warm pearly semen. And I guess it’s the big heavy balls I have that produce all that precious cream as each successive time I cum, there is never really a decrease in the amount I shoot. Which brings me back to my story……
A few days ago, I’d bedded a pretty young co-ed I’d met in a bar that evening. She’d sucked the first load out of me fairly quickly after we’d gone back to her apartment. With strands of the copious amount of cum I’d shot into her mouth leaking from the corners of her mouth, she continued to suck until I was ready with my second load. She asked me to shoot it on her face and as I did so, her body shook and quivered through an orgasm, simply by my massive load covering her pretty young face.
“Oh wow,” she purred lustfully, my silvery seed shimmering on her smooth skin. “The amount of cum you shoot is incredible. You should patent that. You’d make shitload of money.”
“Yeah, right,” I replied with a shake of my head as I looked at the wads of cum in her hair, covering most of her face, dripping off her chin.
“No seriously,” she said as she took a long slow lick at the final drops of cum oozing from the tip of my cock, “you’d be surprised at how many people love to have somebody paint their face like that, especially with loads the size of yours.”
“Hmmmm, interesting,” I thought to myself as she once again started to suck at my semi-hard cock.
The next morning, I headed home; four more loads of my cum on her face and some intriguing thoughts running through my brain. I tried to get some sleep, but I kept thinking about what she had said. Was she right? Were there really people out there who’d be willing to pay to let me cum on their face? The more I thought about it, the more the idea gripped me. I tossed and turned as I tried to sleep but couldn’t get my mind off the idea. I finally got up and took a long shower, but my own soapy hands running over my body only made the concept of cumming on people’s faces for money all that more appealing. I was between writing contracts right now and I hated dipping into my inheritance. I knew I could use a little extra money right now, and if that was the way I could make some, I couldn’t think of a better way!
I got out of the shower and sat at my computer, a towel wrapped around my waist. Using a secondary e-mail address I’d created for such purposes, I logged onto a website I’d frequently browsed through before. It was a site featuring personal ads of a very sexual nature, even stating the cost of services rendered. Man, I love Vegas, the only place in the country where you can get away with that sort of thing. After hitting the tab marked “POST NEW AD”, I started writing. I decided to keep it short and sweet. If people were interested, I was putting down what they would need to see. If not, they could quickly move on to something else. After playing with the wording a few times, I finally settled on a draft I was happy with.
FACE-PAINTER, Well-hung white male willing to provide face-painting services. 6′-2″, 215 lbs. Clean and safe. Over 10″ of thick cut cock. If you are interested in having 12-20 shots of cum covering your face, respond to the e-mail address below. Serious replies only. Discretion expected and ensured. PRICE: $200/load.
I listed the e-mail address I’d set up and used my credit card to pay for the ad. I re-read it a number of times and finally took a deep breath before hitting the “POST AD” button. With my ad now posted, I shut down my computer, got dressed and went out to do a little grocery shopping. Being springtime, it was actually tolerable to be outside in Las Vegas; not like those scorching temperatures in the middle of July. It was warm enough that I could put the top down on my old Mustang, that I called “Sally.” I know, “Mustang Sally”, pretty lame, eh? But it had been a gift from my dad when I graduated and I loved that car.
I picked up my groceries at the local supermarket; constantly wondering if my ad was being read as I debated over which type of pasta to buy. I found it kind of ironic that I was checking the price of coffee cream when somebody might be considering whether to pay two-hundred bucks for a load of my cream! With a smile on my face, I grabbed a Starbucks on my way home, anxious to see if I had any responses to my ad.
“Hey Connor, how are you?” I heard as I reached into my backseat and grabbed the bags of groceries. I’d pulled into my driveway and hadn’t noticed my neighbor working in her yard.
“Margaret, I’m doin’ great. How about you?” I looked around to see my next door neighbor, Margaret, stepping away from some shrubbery in the landscaped area between our two houses, a pair of pruning shears in her hands.
“I’m good, but there’s always stuff that needs my attention around here,” she said with a quirky little smile as she motioned towards the bushes she’d been attending to. Margaret was about the same age as my mother, probably somewhere between 45 and 50; but she still looked damn good. She bahis siteleri used to be a nurse at one point and gave it up to be the wife of a doctor. They’d met at the hospital they’d both worked in and then one day he decided to trade her in on a younger model. She never saw it coming, but was lucky enough to have a good lawyer that took the rotten bastard to the cleaners in the divorce. That was about four years ago now and she had bought her place in the complex just a few months before I’d bought mine.
As I stepped over to the edge of my driveway to talk to her, I wondered again what that crazy doctor must have been thinking. Not only was Margaret a sweet woman, she had a smoldering sensuality that made her incredibly sexy. She was what you would call a “buxom” woman; standing probably around 5′-10″ with a big curvy body to match. She wasn’t overweight, just a big woman that seemed to be built for sex. She had a pretty face with a full wide mouth, and like I said earlier, a quirky little smile that was just plain endearing.
Moving towards her, I watched as she took the back of her hand and wiped some sweat from her brow, her fingers pushing back a lock of wavy auburn hair; a deep natural red that fell in soft looping curls about her shoulders. The motion of lifting her arm caused her large heavy breasts to swell beneath the white sleeveless turtleneck she was wearing. Man, what a set of tits. I could make out the silhouette of a lacy white bra beneath the stretched ribbing of her top. My eyes drifted down past her nipped in waist to her wide flared hips; nicely framed in a pair of yellow shorts that ended high on her muscular thighs. He long legs were tanned and beautifully sculpted. I had always had a thing for older women, ever since the start of puberty; and Margaret was no exception. She been the subject of numerous jack-off sessions since I’d moved in next door to her.
“So what are you doing?” I asked; nodding towards the shrubbery she’d been attacking while trying to keep my grocery bags from falling out of my arms.
“Oh, just trimming this bush,” she replied, pointing to the offending greenery.
“I like a nice trimmed bush,” I said with a distinct suggestive tone to my voice. Margaret and I regularly flirted with each other. She could give it as good as she could take it, and we both enjoyed the playful repartee. Nothing had ever come of it, of course, but we both seemed to relish the subtly intimate nature of that teasing relationship we had.
My words kind of stopped her in her tracks and she looked at me with that quirky sexy smile of hers. Her head tilted provocatively to one side as she spoke, “Yes, I do too. Trimming a bush lets you see what you’ve got to work with, don’t you think?”
“Exactly.” My eyes couldn’t help but drift down to soft cleft her tight shorts were making as they gently cupped her womanhood.
“Do you think I’m doing a good job of it?” I’m sure she had noticed me checking out her crotch but her eyes flicked momentarily to the row of bushes she’d emerged from.
“Well, I don’t know,” I said as I looked at a few stray edges that didn’t look too good. “You’d have to trim it right down for it to be to my liking.” I wondered how she’d respond to that comment.
“If you didn’t have your hands full of groceries, I’d ask you to trim my bush for me right now,” she said haughtily as she motioned towards the shrub she’d been working on. Even though she put on airs of being offended, her suggestive intention seemed clear. “Yes, it’s always nicer to be able to just sit back, relax and let someone else do the trimming for you.” As usual, she seemed to relish in teasing me.
“I’d really like to, Margaret, but hey, what can I say?” I said with a shrug and a smile as I showed her the bags of groceries I was holding. She smiled wickedly and then looked further down the lawn.
“I feel the same way about these big trees.” She pointed to one of the large leafy trees on her lawn. We both looked at the tree and then our eyes met in a playful gaze. “I think if you keep that area under the tree trimmed right down, it seems to make the tree look all that much more majestic, don’t you think?”
“I’d have to agree with that,” I replied, my mouth turned up in a naughty smile.
“Yeah, it just makes it look big and powerful, just the way a real tree should look.” I watched her eyes drift down to survey my package before returning to my face. “Yeah, a good strong root, a long thick trunk, and then a nice flared canopy on top.” She had turned and I watched her eyes look from the base of the tree, slowly up the trunk until she shielded her eyes from the sun as she gazed up at the spreading leaves above. She was turned sideways to me now and that tight white top of hers looked fantastic in profile; those massive heavy tits of hers thrusting well out before her. She turned back towards me and I felt myself starting to get hard under her provocative gaze. “I love ones like that, and maybe next time your hands aren’t full of groceries, we’ll see if you can do a better job than I can of trimming my bush for me.” She gave me a wink and smile before turning on her heel. “See you later, Connor. Gotta go.”
“Later, Margaret,” I replied as I watched that beautiful wide round ass bahis şirketleri of hers disappear around the corner of her open garage door. Man, she was something alright. A guy could do with neighbors like that for sure. Every time I looked at her, I was reminded of a line I remembered from an old Bruce Lee movie; where John Saxon said about a gorgeous woman: “A woman like that can teach you a lot about yourself.”
With lurid thoughts of Margaret’s buxom body stirring in my loins, I quickly put my groceries away and booted up my computer. Before logging onto my regular e-mail account, I hurriedly accessed the second e-mail account I’d set up for my ad. There was the notification from the ad company with a listing of my paid receipt, and one other response from a sender named “Callie”. I clicked on it:
“Face-painter, if you are as you describe yourself to be, I am VERY interested. I know you have to pay to post these ads, so I am assuming you will be the person you say you are if you choose to show up. Please do not waste your time or mine if your ad is false. I am an attractive woman 36 years old in town on business until tomorrow, staying at the Bellagio. If you can make it at 8:00pm this evening, please reply to let me know you are serious. I will respond with my room number once I hear from you. Looking forward to a nice face-bath…….Callie.”
Well, this certainly looked interesting. I re-read her message three times before sending off my response:
“Callie, thanks very much for replying to my ad. Rest assured; I am the person I have described. I can make it this evening at 8:00pm and I too look forward to an interesting encounter. As I mention, discretion is ensured. If you provide me with your room number, it is safe with me and I will be there at the expected time…….Face-Painter.”
I hit the “SEND” button and checked the clock; it was just past 4:30. I made myself something to eat and decided to check for a response. Her reply was fairly short:
“Face-Painter, Bellagio, room 814. I’ve been told my mouth is quite good……Callie.”
As I read her message, I felt my cock throb in anticipation of the evening to come. I was both incredibly excited and tremendously nervous at what I was about to do. On one hand, I felt like I was about to rent myself out like some common street whore. On the other hand, the idea of being a specialized “Face-Painter” made me feel like the equivalent of a high-priced call girl. What the fuck, I thought, “Callie” sounded like an interesting woman; what was the harm in going along and see how it went. If it was a disaster, I could always pull my ad and go back to my usual way of life. It wasn’t so bad, but yeah, I could use a few extra bucks.
With all these thoughts swirling through my head, I took a long hot shower and got myself looking good. I pulled on a pair of jeans (with no underwear as usual); then pulled on a classic white button-down Oxford-cloth shirt and navy blazer. I looked at my 6′-3″ frame in the mirror and gave myself a wry smile.
“You crazy bastard,” I said to myself, “what the fuck are you getting yourself into?” With a final shake of my head, I switched off the bathroom light and headed out.
With the roof down on the Mustang, the cool desert air of the evening seemed to caress my body like a soothing wave. Yes, this was my town; I loved Vegas and all its good and bad points. Just driving through town seemed to give me the confidence I’d been questioning earlier. As eight o’clock approached, I made my way down to the strip and found a parking garage near the Bellagio. I pulled the top up on the car and told the valet to “take care of my baby”. The young kid gave me a knowing smile and nodded as he pulled the car into the deep dark recesses of the parking structure.
I strolled through the Bellagio’s noisy casino area, the strike-it-rich schemes of visiting tourists being sucked up by the dealer’s rake like whispery smoke into the ventilation system. I checked my watch as the elevator took me quickly to the eighth floor; 7:56pm. I took a few deep breaths to settle my nerves as I walked down the hallway, and with a certain degree of apprehension, I steeled myself and knocked at the door of room 814.
“Well, hello,” came a soft voice as the door swung partway open. A beautiful blonde woman with sparkling blue eyes looked up at me, her shoulder leaning against the edge of the door. She appeared to be just as she had described; an attractive…..and I’d say incredibly attractive……36-year old…..a very beautiful sexy cock-hardening 36-year old. Her face was gorgeous, beautiful features framed exquisitely by shimmering blonde hair. Her hair fell to her shoulders in a style fitting a successful business woman. She had full soft pouty-looking lips that had a sexy red coating of glistening lipstick. It looked like a mouth just made for cock-sucking. She was tall, probably about 5′-8″ and had a gorgeous figure; full round breasts, a trim waist flowing into womanly hips and long slim legs. She had on a black high-collared sleeveless dress that was nicely form-fitting to show off every delicious curve of her sensual body. The dress hugged her wide hips nicely before ending high on her thighs. Her legs looked incredibly sexy, clad in shimmering black nylons and ending with classy pointy-toed pumps with about a 4″ stiletto heel. My feasting eyes took in this delicious view in the matter of a split second as we both kind of looked each other up and down.
Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32