Mother and Daughter

While she spoke, her fingers were frantically working on my zipper, then my belt. By the time I found my speech, she already had pulled down my pants, and made my flaccid penis disappear in her mouth. I did manage to ask her what she was doing, but all I could hear from her were grunts and slurping sounds, which I did not understand, but my prick understood her and obeyed. It must have been Mr. Wilson who had taught her, because she played my dick like a virtuoso violinist plays a precious Stradivari.

Her soft lips moved with authority, accentuated at times by her tongue playing on the sensitive area under the glans, where glans and skin meet. But more than the technique, it was her joy of doing what she did, that made her efforts so exquisite.

I had only good feedback about Debbie. Her clients especially liked the enthusiasm she brought to her work, her willingness to please beyond the raw customer/call girl contract. I had experienced the same feeling on the occasions when I called on her for an afternoon or evening.

As I said, everything about Debbie rolled along on greased rails, until one Friday morning. I had gone to lunch at my favorite Italian restaurant. When I returned home I took off my shirt , which sported a few tomato sauce spots, and threw it into the laundry hamper. I then listened to a message from the client who Debbie was to meet that morning. He thanked me for sending such a delightful and talented young lady to pinch hit for Debbie. I was shocked and puzzled, and wondered what could have happened to Debbie.

Just as I clicked off the recorder, the doorbell rang. It was Jennifer, wearing the black miniskirt and the see through blouse my client had requested. As I looked at her with her long legs, the high heels, the miniskirt, I felt an almost physical sex appeal emanating from her. Jennifer handed me my two hundred and fifty dollars, and then explained that her mom had some kind of stomach flu, that she tried to reach me on the business cell phone, but received no answer. Then I remembered that the phone was still on the charger and I had forgotten to take it with me to lunch. I could hardly believe it, but it must have been Jennifer who kept the appointment. And so it was. "We couldn't let the poor man go home disappointed and maybe even frustrated," she explained as if this was the most natural thing to do.

When I told her, that the client had left a glowing report about a pretty young lady who had taken Debbie's place, she smiled impishly, "It was fun, but mostly I wanted to collect your money, so that I had a reason to see you, and convince you, that I am a capable woman. Convincing is not done by e-mail but in person. The least I should get out of my efforts is a kiss from the man who came to the rescue of my mom."

With this she stepped in front of me, put her hands behind my neck, and kissed me, assisted by an insistent tongue exploring the inside of my mouth. What could I do but kiss her back. Her body molded itself to mine while one arm left my neck to cone to rest on my back, crushing me to her chest. She broke the kiss and told me that there are other parts that like kisses, and in a flash she had anchored her moth on one sensitive nipple. My God, she knew what to do to arouse a man who is blessed with sensitive nipples.

The other was not left out, it was attended to by two fingers, rolling it, tweaking it, being scratched lightly with a finger nail. After a while her lips replaced her fingers who were now assigned other tasks. They moved down to my crotch to caress my dick from the outside for a bit before they marched to my zipper. It was pulled down and the fingers went inside my pants to free my prick. Jennifer played with it for a short while before she grabbed it in earnest and led me to the bedroom, using my dick like a leash.

It is I who normally leads the ladies to my bed but this vixen had her own ideas how to handle a man. Sure, I was thoroughly aroused by now, but I was also curious about what she would do. She motioned me to sit on the edge of my bed so she could remove my shoes and socks. With them gone, I was treated to a two minute foot massage.

Jennifer was still wearing her sexy French Maid's uniform when she pulled me up from the bed and announced that appetizers would be served shortly. She slowly kneeled down, her hands never leaving me, always in contact with my skin, rubbing or scratching my skin wherever they found themselves. Most women just go through the motions, fucking a penis without any finesse. Some ladies are gifted and instinctively know how to play this sensitive instrument, bringing into play all the nuances of pressure, sucking, stroking with their lips, using a roving tongue, slowing down, speeding up, stopping for a short rest, then playing at fortissimo. Jennifer was such a gifted one.

When she was done serving me my appetizer, she rose and announced that dinner would be served presently. It was to be a three course meal, she added.

For the first course she positioned herself on the edge of the bed, her pussy just a tad over the edge, legs spread and knees raised to give me full access to her. "I want you to fuck me standing right there at the edge so I can see you and smile at you."

For the second course she wiggled herself up towards the top of the bed and invited me on top of her, so she could feel my chest on hers, she explained. This gave me a chance to look deep into her eyes. They were grey, I found out, a fact that had not consciously registered with me before. They were knowing eyes, eyes that could look deep into my thoughts.

For the third course I had to switch places with her so she could impale herself and look down on me, and participate vicariously in my enjoyment. Many women have been riding me in my life, but none had brought me to the brink of spending as fast as this one. I did not want to miss the dessert. And to delay my climax, I tried to pay attention to her and her technique, and find out what she did that was so deliciously different. Then I noticed, she used her vaginal muscles in rhythm with her up and down movement. She must have sensed that the end was close. A knowing smile appeared on her face and she lingered for a few long moments, so I could savor the sensation of her being in charge. It dawned on me then that she had been in charge all along from the time she walked into my living room this afternoon. She gave me one last vaginal squeeze and then dismounted.

The next moment she was between my legs, with my prick in her mouth. Now she again demonstrated her mastery, all the while looking at me with smiling eyes. She played with me, getting me right to the edge, then stopping and letting my dick soak in her warm mouth. When she continued, she would start out slow, so that I could enjoy her tongue playing with the underside of my prick. After a while of this slow treatment she went back to work on me.

But finally it had to come to an end and I wondered what she would do when I came. Her smile became more impish as I shot my load. She swallowed my semen as if it had been ambrosia. My dick stayed in her mouth until it was completely flaccid, only then did she release it. Jennifer stayed where she was; she did not want to disturb my time of recovery and afterglow.

When she got up she immediately stepped into her heels. Walking to the bathroom she wiggled her ass at me provocatively. Watching her sexy legs on her heels would have brought forth a raging dick under normal circumstances. But her treatment had left me totally spent.

We finished the afternoon with a glass of wine in the living room, still in the nude, talking about ourselves, our likes and dislikes, our goals and ambitions, our hopes. We got to know each other that afternoon. After she finished her second glass of wine she complimented me on my choice of wine while she dressed. I stood up when she was ready to leave and experienced as a finale a most memorable goodbye kiss.