CHAPTER FIVE
Liam
Six months later …
Oh shit. It’s been an amazing half year but I can’t believe this is happening. Because the encounter with Marisa was supposed to be a one time thing. We’d hook up, I’d give her the ride of her life on my cock, and then sayonara. After all, that’s what escorts do. We don’t stay around and chit chat, it’s on a strict per hour basis.
But that’s where things have gone off the rails because after that first encounter, I couldn’t get enough.
“Sweetheart,” I growled, eyes flashing as Marisa pulled on her dress. “What’s next?”
She smiled at me sweetly.
“What do you mean, what’s next?”
Oh shit. This woman had turned the tables on me because I was actually initiating the talk, and not the other way around. Usually, I’m an expert at avoiding this kind of stuff. The job’s pretty cut and dried, and to be honest, I’m not much of a relationship-type guy.
But with Marisa everything was different. I had to see the beautiful brunette again and my eyes flashed as I watched her zip that curvy form into her dress.
“You know what I mean,” was my low growl. “When can I see you again?”
She smiled, that pink pout so tempting.
“I thought you were a male escort?” she asked with a giggle. “I didn’t know there were second rounds.”
My brows lowered. This wasn’t the time for jokes. I wanted my beautiful girl and yet here she was, making light of the situation. So I fixed her with a mock glare.
“No, I’m serious,” came my low rasp. “I need to see you, Marisa. These past six months have been hell.”
And the genuine tone of my voice must have gotten to her because the brunette melted then, throwing herself into my arms. Oh shit, that softness was so tempting and all I wanted was to strip off her clothes and dive right into the creaminess again.
But it wasn’t enough. I needed more from Marisa, my heart thumping like a fucking drum as I held those narrow shoulders in my hand and looked deep into her eyes.
“This isn’t our last encounter, you know,” was my rough growl. “Not even close.”
Her eyes softened then, those caramel pools so warm that I could drown.
“I know, Officer Davies,” she whispered against my heart. “I don’t want it to be our last time either. So how about next weekend?” she asked. “Can you come up to Huntstown again? If you’re free, of course,” she said hastily.
Fuck yeah. I was free. Even if I hadn’t been free, I would have canceled whatever was on my schedule and made myself available for Marisa.
“Sure thing, honey,” I rasped, clasping her small chin in my hand. “I’ve got time next Friday, so be ready at eight. I’ll come pick you up.”
And that’s what happened the next weekend. I drove the two hours to Huntstown and met Marisa at the hotel again, where we embarked on a sex-fueled weekend. It was fucking amazing. I was on her the minute the door closed, feeding her my cock every which way, and my princess loved every second of it.
“Oh!” she screamed as I pushed it into her from behind. “Oh god!” she whimpered again as I stroked her back hole, that little pucker clenching and clamping with anticipation.
Because no part of Marisa is off limits, and frankly, I can’t get enough. We’ve seen each other for almost twenty weekends straight now, spending a full forty-eight hours with each other each time, and it’s hands-down amazing. Everything about this girl is delicious, and I can’t wait to see her again for another weekend of love and sex.
Love? What the hell is wrong with me? I’m not a guy who falls in love. Falls in lust, yes, but not love. I’ve had four decades on this earth, and never has a woman made me say the L-word.
But as I took stock of the situation, it was clear that this was something more than your standard escort arrangement. After all, Marisa wasn’t paying me. Hell no. I wouldn’t take money when I was the one finishing in ecstasy each time, spewing my virile jism into that sweet, willing pussy. Nor is this some friends with benefits either, because we actually spend a lot of time talking when we’re not having sex, and the conversation’s good. Take last weekend for example. We were in the tub, relaxing in a bubble bath after I’d reamed her a good one, that sweet pussy still sore.
“You okay?” I asked, letting my hand trail up one smooth leg, admiring her shapely calf.
“I’m okay,” she whispered shyly, batting her lashes. “Because you know I love spending time with you Liam,” she breathed, looking at me from across the expanse of bubbles. This is what I adore about Marisa. There’s no artifice or pretense. She wears her heart on her sleeve, and I can tell she’s not holding back when it comes to our relationship. This girl is the real deal.
I growled, blue eyes seizing hers.
“You tell me if I’m too rough, okay?” I commanded. “You tell me to stop if it hurts.”
She smiled sweetly.
“Well …,” her voice trailed off.
“Well what?” I demanded, suddenly alert. What the hell? Had I been harming my girl without even knowing it? Sure, I like a little play now and then, but nothing that’s going to cause real pain.
She giggled.
“No, nothing like that. It’s just that my ass is sore, you know?”
I raised an eyebrow.
“From what?”
“You know!” she squealed, playfully splashing me. But I lifted my hands from the tub palms up, soapy suds dripping down my elbows.
“No, I swear I don’t,” was my mock-threatening rumble. “It could be from the spanking I gave you last night. Or was it the deep anal?” I said in the same breath. “I could swear you liked it, little girl, but you did scream pretty loud.”
She caught her breath, cheeks flushing.
“It was the anal,” she confided in a whisper. “It felt so good but my bottom’s sore now because you’re so big, Officer Davies. I like it but go slower next time okay?”
I knew what she was talking about because I’d dipped my stick into her pussy as lube, instead if using our usual K-Y. I love it natural like that, and the petroleum jelly doesn’t feel as good as her twat juices. But I nodded my head in understanding.
“You want me to kiss it better?” I asked.
She let out a scandalized gasp, but then the brunette nodded, her cheeks flushed.
“Yes Officer Davies,” she mewled, immediately rotating around in the tub so that she was on her hands and knees, bottom facing me. She wiggled that big butt temptingly, and the creamy mounds were so fucking beautiful. “Kiss it where it hurts,” she breathed. “Make everything better.”
And shit, but I was on it, leaning forwards to press my lips to her anus. Because every part of Marisa belongs to me, and that includes her musty back door. My girl takes dong in her bottom regularly now, and her rim was slightly puffy and red. So I tongued it lovingly, running my mouth along the pleats and then pushing it into her butt until the girl gasped and mewled with pleasure. It wasn’t long before she was riding my cock in the tub again, big behind bouncing up and down as I gave her the anal drill.
So yeah, I couldn’t wait to see my girl again. After all, she’s everything to me now. Not just the physical, but also the emotional. And frankly, I love spending time with the brunette. It’s the best part of my week, and it’d been a long seven days since our last interlude. So I waited impatiently as I sat in our hotel room, listening for the sound of the electronic key.
Beep! The lock indicated.
Oh good, she was here. And sure enough, Marisa appeared a moment later with a welcoming smile, that curvy body displayed in a demure sweater and jeans. That’s what I love about the college student. She’s got assets that make a man’s mouth water, but never is she slutty in a public way. Oh she’s a whore in private for sure, letting me touch and kiss and fuck any part of her body I want. But when it came to the world at large, Marisa is by and large a modest dresser, covering her precious assets instead of letting them all hang out.
But there was something different about her today. As usual, the brunette sauntered in and plopped herself in my lap, cooing like a kitten. But her brown eyes were slightly shuttered.
I kissed the girl hello, enjoying the feel of that warm mouth and imagining it on my cock later before seizing her chin in my hands.
“What is it, sweetheart?” I rumbled. “Spit it out.”
She inhaled sharply.
“What do you mean?” she asked, eyes wide. “What makes you say that?”
I threw me head back and laughed, displaying even, white teeth.
“Sweetheart, we’ve spent a good amount of time together over these past six months. I’ve been in you, on you, underneath you, and even in your head a bit,” was my reply. “So I can tell if something’s on your mind. Now tell me honey,” I commanded. “It’s okay. Nothing shocks me and you know that I only want to help you.”
She nodded and bit her lip, looking down for a moment.
“Well, I um ….”
I waited patiently.
“What is it?” was my calm tone. “Don’t hold back. You know you can tell me anything, sweetheart.”
She took a deep breath as if marshalling her courage, but then turned shy brown eyes my way.
“Um, I just wanted to know if we could have the relationship talk?” she murmured softly, with no artifice whatsoever. “Is that okay, Officer Davies? I know we haven’t known each other that long, but I … I don’t know. I was just wondering,” she mumbled, looking down for a moment.
And this is what I love most about my girl. Because Marisa’s straightforward without a devious cell in her body. Most women would hem and haw before throwing a fit and then blaming me for not reading their minds. But my brunette’s not like that. Because she knows what she wants, and you know what? I have nothing but the utmost respect for the girl … and I was looking forwards to the talk anyways.