Vicki the Demure

"Princess, d'you suppose could I call you demure?"

I was taken aback by Sly's question in several ways. Sly, my agent, in all probability didn't know the meaning of the word. The big guy is a product of the streets, lacking in any formal education, and in the rough and tumble world in which he grew up nobody, but nobody would ever have had a use for the word 'demure'. Still, I didn't want to just assume that he didn't know the word. He's very conscious of my privileged upbringings and college education, though he's largely gotten over his resentment as he's come know and respect me for what I am and what I bring to our little business, rather than his preconception of what people of my social and economic class are.

Oh, 'our little business' you ask? It's sex, dearie. Sly provides the clients and I provide the sex. If you're wondering how two so very different people came to be partners in this business, well, it's a long story that I've told elsewhere, but to summarize, Sly blackmailed me into having sex with him and then with some guys who paid him for me, whereupon we both, Sly and I, discovered that I had untapped talent for the business and that I actually liked the adventurous side of it (well, to be honest, I also liked the sex). He'd run a small stable, as he called it, before, and recognized a good thing when he saw it. He offered me a partnership and as much to my surprise as to his I took him up on it. BTW, though, I think Sly'd seen something in me that let him know even before he'd asked that I'd say yes. He doesn't miss much when it comes to women.

Anyhow, it worked, and it continues to work. I count on Sly to protect me and find interesting clients for me, and he counts on me to satisfy them.

Sorry, that was a little long-winded, but I thought you ought to know if you didn't already.

So, where was I? Oh yeah, the business about 'demure'.

I looked carefully at Sly, trying to gauge the extent of his knowledge and the reason behind the strange question. Also, how to discover whether or not Sly knew the word without demeaning him by assuming he didn't.

"Um," I said intelligently, "'demure', hunh? Me? As in modest, reserved, shy, coy, decorous? I really don't know. You know me as well as anyone, what do you think?"

He looked at me for a good minute before answering.

"Nope," he said at last, with a smile, "no way. Not a chance."

"Now wait just a minute," I said, rather miffed at his cavalier dismissal. "Okay, I may not be shy, or reseved for that matter, but I can be coy when I want to be, and I'm certainly decorous."

He looked me up and down, from my long legs decorously crossed as I sat in a skirt on the couch in his apartment, along my torso and up to my long hair, his eyes lingering lovingly on my breasts. When he'd finished his examination, he looked back at my face. "Oh yeah, decorous, alright."

"That's not what it means," I said. "It means polite, restrained, and in keeping with good taste and proper behavior."

"Oh. I dunno about that. Maybe."

"Okay," I said, "Enough of this. Let's get back to why you asked me in the first place. You must have had a reason. Anything to do with a client?"

"Well," he said, "yeah. This guy asked me if you were or could be demure."

"Weird," I said in a puzzled tone. "That's not what they usually ask you about me, is it?"

"Hell no. More often it's 'is she willing to do such-and-such?'."

"I'll bet. So? Did he explain?"

"Yeah. Seems his wife is a domineering bitch. He just wants to have sex with a beautiful woman who's 'demure', meaning, I guess, one who just does what he tells her to do."

"Compliant, eh? Yeah, I can do that. Well, up to a point, anyway. You vouch for this guy?"

Sly is a much better judge of men than I am, I have to admit. His hard-earned cynicism has a lot to do with it. Anyway, I trust him to weed out the dangerous ones. I know he'll protect me, and not just because of what I can do for him.

"Yeah," he said. "He's okay. You can handle him, Babe."

"Okay, then. Set it up."

*******

Our "date" was a little different. We met in the restaurant of a very nice upscale midtown hotel. He was already seated. I recognized him from the description Sly'd given me: early thirties, medium height, short hair, expensively dressed. Turned out not bad looking, either. A little nervous, though, as I noted when I surreptitiously watched him before introducing myself.

I walked over to the table. He stood up. His eyes got a little wider.

"Vicki?" he asked. I nodded. "Oh God, you're beautiful! Your agent doesn't do you justice."

Well, that was nice. I mean, what girl doesn't like a compliment?

He held out the chair for me. I sat, letting my skirt rise up a bit to show some nylon-clad thigh. I knew that as he eased my chair in, he was looking down my low-cut dress from behind and above me, so I hunched my shoulders enough to deepen my cleavage. I do love to give clients a show. They're paying for it, after all.

We ordered cocktails: he had a single-malt, neat, and I had a cosmo. After a little chit-chat, the menus arrived. Time to start the act. I left mine unopened. "You order for me love," I said. "I'm sure I'll like whatever you choose." Demure enough?? Yes, judging from his smile.

"That's sweet," he said. "My wife never did that."

"Honey," I said, "She's not here. I'm your date tonight. It's my pleasure to follow your lead. In anything," I added sweetly.

The rest of the meal went well. The seafood dish he had ordered for me was great. The wine (which he ordered and sampled) was excellent, though given my role for the rest of the night I had only one glass. Good for him, he did too. Hey, if I'm to perform, I'd like an appreciative audience.

Well-fed and pleasantly relaxed, I meekly followed him up to the room he'd reserved for the evening. It was quite elegant, a suite no less. He escorted me in and turned to me. I could see the hunger in his eyes, but he seemed at a loss for words. Well, I'm a professional, so it's my job to take up the slack as needed. Besides, it's good fun to open up a shy client and watch the results.

I moved in close to him. "Thank you for a lovely dinner," I said in my smokiest voice. "You certainly know how to charm a girl. Makes me feel all warm and cozy and yielding."

I reached up to him and kissed him, lightly at first, to judge his reaction. Good. I took his hands and placed them on my ass and then put both hands behind his head and drew him down to me. My kiss got warmer. My tongue probed his mouth, gently spreading his lips and then entering his mouth. His breathing picked up and his hands on my ass tightened and pulled me closer to him. I rose on my toes to match our heights. Our pelvises met, and I felt the growing bulge in his groin begin to press into me. I sighed and responded by massaging that bulge with my own pelvis.

I took one hand and reached down between us to trace the outline of his erection through his trousers. I stroked it gently. He moaned softly.

"That feels very nice," I said quietly. "Would you like to take me to bed?"

"Oh God, yes!" he said. "You are a most desirable woman."

"Well then, lover," I said, "take me. Now. I want your hard cock deep in me. I want to feel you spurt inside me, over and over, filling me. I want to hear you moan with pleasure. while you shoot your precious load into me until we are both satisfied."

So much for reserved and coy, but I was pretty sure by then that he wouldn't notice.

I waited until he disengaged himself from me long enough to lead me into the bedroom. I followed, meekly enough, though what I had felt through his pants made me eager to get down to the real business of the night.

Once inside, I took the lead. Demure, hell. I guided him to the bed and sat him down while I did a nice, slow striptease in front of him. First the zipper in the back of the dress, then letting it fall slowly to the floor, leaving me standing in heels and stockings with only panties and bra to conceal the goodies. I gave him plenty of time to take in the sights, then moved closer, inviting him to kiss my mound through the nylon. I stepped back and took off my bra and put his hands on my breasts. Oh my, that felt good. He massaged my breasts until my nipples were hard and erect. I stepped out of my heels. I put his hands on my hips and encouraged him to slide my panties down until I could step out of them. I left the stockings on. Guys like that, and it does make me feel sexy. I invited him to kiss my pussy, and he responded with alacrity. It felt nice, and I knew that a good whiff of my arousal pheromones would put him in the proper frame of mind.

Then I went to work on him. Off came the jacket and tie. Then his shirt. He had a nice torso, so I stroked his shoulders and chest and kissed him again. I knelt down and took off his shoes and socks. Rising, I put my hands on his shoulders and eased him back onto the bed. He watched my breasts as I leaned over him and then closed his eyes. His lips curled in a gentle smile. I undid his pants and with a little help from him, got them off and dropped them onto the floor. I took a moment to smile at the very attractive bulge tenting his shorts. I knelt down again and kissed the bulge, which felt delightfully alive and solid, and then slipped his shorts off.

I let him know that I was pleased with what was now revealed in all its erect glory, and then gently took it with the tips of my fingers and held it up and breathed on the tip. I was rewarded with a nice clear drop of pre-cum, which I picked up with my tongue (I love the way a cock obediently stiffens under my fingers. I dunno, maybe it's a power trip. Or maybe anticipation. Whatever, it's always a thrill.). I felt his cock throb under my touch and heard him moan. Oh, he was ready all right.

I inched him up onto the bed, on his back.

I knelt over him, my knees on either side of his legs, and again put his hands on my breasts. Obediently he stroked me, his eyes closed so as to fully enjoy the tactile experience. I leaned forward and kissed him, probing him with my tonge.

I took his hands and placed them on my hips and waited for him to take the lead. He did, and I responded to his gentle downward pressure by slowly lowering my hips. I reached down and aimed that lovely cock just where I wanted it.

I thrilled at the first contact of the head of his penis against my labia. I paused for a few seconds to let both of our anticipation build up, then continued my descent. The blunt head of his cock, lubricated by his pre-cum and my own excited secretions easily parted my soft lips and entered me.

Oh that felt very good! So solid, so alive!

His breath caught. His hands on my hips tensed, his fingers clutching my flesh.

I gradually descended further, reveling in the feel of that warm thick cock penetrating me, spreading the sensitive walls of my vagina, going deeper and deeper until our pelvises met. I could feel him pressing against my cervix, his cock stiffening even more and readying itself to shoot his load of sperm directly into my womb.

His eyes were tightly closed, his mouth slightly open. His breath came in soft moans of pleasure. I began to rise and fall on him.

"Oh my god, my god," he moaned. "Oh, you are so beautiful. Oh, you feel so, so good."

"Good, my sweet lover," I whispered. "Good. Let it come now. Let go and cum in me. Fill me."

His breath caught. I felt his cock inside me swell. He gave a heartfelt moan and came, deep inside me.

It felt very good. His cock throbbed and pulsed. It swelled with each release of his pent-up passion. I could feel his hot sperm shoot up into me, penetrating my very womb. I stopped moving and just pressed tightly against him and held on while he filled me to overflowing. His semen backed up around his cock and spilled out onto his groin and dripped onto the bed. Oh lord, he had a good load! I thoroughly enjoyed it, pulse after pulse.

I let go, then, and came myself, my vagina gripping his throbbing penis, squeezing it even as he continued to cum. I felt myself spurt. I closed my eyes and threw my head back and let the wave wash over me. Oh, it was wonderful.

All too soon it was over. I collapsed onto his chest, both of us breathing hard as if we'd run a marathon. Gradually our breathing slowed, and I felt his lovely cock soften inside me.

At long last I raised my head and looked at him. His eyes were closed and he had a wonderful smile on his face. He looked so at peace; I hated to disturb him.

"My god, Vicki, that was spectacular," he said softly. "I had no idea it could be like that."

"You are a wonderful lover," I said. "I really enjoyed that. I mean it. Thank you."

His smile was beautiful. I'd bet that his wife was in for quite a surprise the next time they had sex.

I ask you, where else can you get such a good feeling from a happily satisfied client while at the same time thoroughly enjoying yourself?

God, I love this job.