I didn't have time to do today's blog article, but hey, I've got to put something up...right? Well, why not a never-before-seen, extended excerpt from An Uncommon Whore?
Look for this January 26 at Loose Id Publishing.
Excerpt contains graphic sex.
“And as apology for ruining your clothing, my boy here will be glad to service you. No charge, good sir.” He poked me, and obediently I dropped to my knees, waiting for the stranger to accept or reject the offer. He looked me over, no doubt seeing heavily lined gray eyes behind the mask, but little else. He grunted in acceptance, and I awkwardly crawled under the shelter of the table and folded the robes to cushion my knees.
I knew my job -- keep him unsettled, distracted. U’shma was a conniving old bastard. We’d played this game before. Kneeling between the stranger’s spread legs, I palmed my cock, moaning silently at the agony of denial. Unless he hired me for the night, my climax was expressly forbidden. I mean, what if the next client wanted to be fucked? It happened often enough. The electro-magnetic cock and ball ring kept me in a continual state of discomfort. U’shma kept the remote that would free me, and that particular service cost the client dearly.
The stranger’s legs were long and hard as iron beneath the leather of his pants. I ran my palms over the insides of his thighs, wondering how much foreplay I dared to indulge in. It really depended on the game they played up on top of the table. U’shma tapped once on my right shoulder, telling me to take it slow.
Fine by me.
Running my hands up his groin, I felt the length of his cock. He was aroused. Through the thick leather it was hard and broad and hot to the touch. I rolled my face over it, sliding my hands up to his stomach where the skin was a bit sticky with wine. Swiftly I pulled the shirt up higher, unlaced his trousers, and then, lifting the veil, lowered my mouth to his belly, slowly licking his skin clean. My lips tingled. The house wine here packed quite a kick; I’d probably pick up a mild buzz just by cleaning him up.
He shifted a bit, which told me to get down to business. Reluctantly I left the hard planes of his abdomen and followed his silent command. With a gentle nudge, I urged his hips up and slid the leathers down just a bit. Much as I’d like him bare-ass naked, they couldn’t come down far, not with my kneeling so close.
His cock spilled out, as hard and dark with blood as I could have imagined. Even in the dim light under the table I could see the thick shaft capped by a heavy, graceful head. Again my cock gave an answering surge, which was rather amusing. As often as I serviced men, usually the women were the ones who really did it for me.
Maybe I just had a thing for big, battle-scarred warriors.
Gently I worked my hands into his pants and lifted out his scrotum. I rolled his balls in my hand and then paused. Make that…ball. He had only one. That didn’t seem to be affecting his pleasure though. I lowered my face to the silky skin and gently cherished that one ball, taking care not to injure what had already been so badly damaged. I ran the tip of my tongue over ridges of scar tissue there. I was gentle…so very gentle. He became very still in his chair. I paused until he flexed his hips, urging me on.
Raising my head again, I shifted his heavy cock to the side and laved my tongue over the surprisingly soft skin of his belly, picking up sweet wine and salty man as I followed the trail of fine hair up to his naval and then back down to his groin. His pubic hair was thick and wiry, and I nuzzled into it, grasping the root of his shaft to hold him ready.
The first taste made me shiver. I lapped up the salty tear of precum and let the thick hood of his cock slip between my lips.
He was big and powerful, and I adjusted my position, angling his cock so I didn’t accidently slam my head into the table above me. That was an occupational hazard around here. I’d seen whores carried out unconscious and bleeding after their client got a little too enthusiastic at the moment of truth. He was strong, and I was a little too tall to give a blowjob with the table above my head, so extra caution was called for.
When I took him deeply into my mouth, he sighed. Not much; he probably didn’t even betray himself to U’shma, but I saw it…felt it. For a few moments, I allowed him to gently ride my mouth, shifting my hand so that the penetration wasn’t too deep.
And then I let him go, placed one fist at the base, squeezing hard, and nuzzled down to his scrotum again.
If I could reach, I’d have fucked his tight ass with my finger, but that wasn’t happening. Not this time. And somehow I got the feeling that this man was just dominant enough to refuse that particular service. But he’d probably be more than willing to dish it out. That thought made me shiver in delicious fear.
I played. Up the length with my tongue, and then down with my lips. I pushed his foreskin back and teased that tiny, precious spot behind his cockhead. I kissed my way down that faint line of skin as far as I could possibly go. When he grew close -- so close that he grew that shade harder -- I opened my mouth as wide as possible and laid my teeth in warning at the base of his cock. His hips jerked.
God only knows what compelled me to do it -- he was so fucking close, and I knew my instructions -- but I wanted this man to come. I wanted his seed on my skin and in my mouth. I wanted his hands on me, his skin against mine. I wanted to make him want me so very badly that he’d pay for the night. Just one night. Was it completely inappropriate to pray for such a thing?
I bore down just slightly into the meaty flesh of his cock, feeling him go still…so very still. He liked that…a lot. Releasing the pressure, I dragged my teeth up the length of his shaft, then slid my incisors lightly over the ridge of his cockhead. It would be too much for most men. Not him. My pirate liked that kiss of pain.
Without warning, his rock-hard hand came down and fisted into the veil. I could see his belly pumping. No doubt he was panting for air. His hips thrust as I swallowed down his cock. As his hot semen spilled into my mouth, his hand dug under the fabric of my veil, trembling fingers skimming over the surface of my skin. He traced the hollows of my eyes, the slender length of my nose. Pushing back the covering on my head, he dug his hand into the long braid of my hair and held tightly, his fingers flexing convulsively as his climax twisted his body in the chair above me.
He pulled away, and I let his semi-erect shaft slip from my mouth, but he did not release me. In fact, he pulled me closer to his body until my face was pressed against the damp warmth of his groin. He adjusted his pants and then pulled me close. I rested there between his powerful thighs, feeling oddly safe and content.
