Whore Diaries II: Adventures in Independent Escorting by Tara Burns Read Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Tara Burns
the first time - usually he comes to me and I already have something cute on, so I just keep it on. I arch my back a little with my fingers on the arms and point my toes against the floor. Suddenly my mind is blank and I can't think of a thing to do with the cheeky graying man down on his knees professing my Goddesshood. I'm the Goddess, I can have anything. What do I want? There's a wetness building between my legs and suddenly I think it would be nice to be eaten out by a submissive brat I kind of love to hate.
"Come," I beckon and he crawls. "Lick," I pull his head between my legs.
He's robotic -- eager, disgusted, unskilled. See what I mean? I push him away, but I don't give him the satisfaction of telling him how much he sucks. Asshole.
I arrange myself in a royal pose against the pillows he's stacked on the bed and instruct him to rub my feet and calves. Some idiots have to start at the bottom and never work their way up. I put my whole hand over my pussy and start rubbing it, just a little. Usually I'm playing a role with guys like this, finding the puzzle path through the maze to their erotic center, but this time I actually want to make him watch me cum and know that he had nothing to do with it, that he couldn't.
Just about the time he finishes with my second calf, I shove my foot in his mouth and start really rubbing my clit. I prop myself up and shove my other hand into my cunt, my fingertips brushing against my G-spot as my other hand flies across my clit. For a second I think I'm going to squirt, but then I don't. I blame him, of course. Asshole.
I stretch and luxuriate for a minute. He's on his knees still, eyes big.
"I guess you want me to beat you," I say.
"Yes, Goddess."
"Beg," I tell him. "Try to convince me you deserve it."
He's an engineer, and not the creative kind. Finally I interrupt his bumbling and make him assume the position. Face down, ass up. You know what else pisses me off about this guy? Last time I whipped his ass and left him with welts on his cock, he sent me an email saying I hardly left any bruises. Asshole.
I start with his leather straps, back and forth. Thunk, thunk, thunk. Big figure eights. Then I speed up to slaps. Faster and harder and he whines out a thank you Goddess after every strike. I put the belt down and put a condom on my finger. Lube. You know what he really doesn't want? To cum. He doesn't want to cum for exactly 23 more minutes. I tease his asshole and he whimpers oh no, oh no, please not yet, Goddess. So I pick up my whip with all the pretty strings and whip him across the thighs and tell him to shut the fuck up. He groans and pants towards orgasm, and I arrange six clothespins all pretty down his balls.
"Your wife told me to do this," I whisper in his ear before I grab his balls and squeeze them around the clothespins. Crazy bitch suits me.
When he cums I make him taste it and he pukes in the toilet, and then he sits on the couch and tells me how much money he makes and how his wife hates him. I have to go, but later I get an email about my awesomeness, and an email from his reference saying he emailed her about my awesomeness and maybe we could do a double sometime so she can see what I do.
Yeah. I'm good at hurting people. A dubious virtue.
MY PEE BITCH
The problem with my pee slut is he's flaky and unreliable as hell. "Goddess Tara," he would email, "Are you in town? I want to see you today!"
If I told him when I was coming, he would email that day or the day after to see if I could come over in an hour. All in all, he irritated the hell out of me whenever I wasn't around him, even though he's fucking adorable in person.
So we had a conversation last time. I explained to him how we started off in this weird half-friend/actual submisive zone. I explained to him all the ways that he
"Come," I beckon and he crawls. "Lick," I pull his head between my legs.
He's robotic -- eager, disgusted, unskilled. See what I mean? I push him away, but I don't give him the satisfaction of telling him how much he sucks. Asshole.
I arrange myself in a royal pose against the pillows he's stacked on the bed and instruct him to rub my feet and calves. Some idiots have to start at the bottom and never work their way up. I put my whole hand over my pussy and start rubbing it, just a little. Usually I'm playing a role with guys like this, finding the puzzle path through the maze to their erotic center, but this time I actually want to make him watch me cum and know that he had nothing to do with it, that he couldn't.
Just about the time he finishes with my second calf, I shove my foot in his mouth and start really rubbing my clit. I prop myself up and shove my other hand into my cunt, my fingertips brushing against my G-spot as my other hand flies across my clit. For a second I think I'm going to squirt, but then I don't. I blame him, of course. Asshole.
I stretch and luxuriate for a minute. He's on his knees still, eyes big.
"I guess you want me to beat you," I say.
"Yes, Goddess."
"Beg," I tell him. "Try to convince me you deserve it."
He's an engineer, and not the creative kind. Finally I interrupt his bumbling and make him assume the position. Face down, ass up. You know what else pisses me off about this guy? Last time I whipped his ass and left him with welts on his cock, he sent me an email saying I hardly left any bruises. Asshole.
I start with his leather straps, back and forth. Thunk, thunk, thunk. Big figure eights. Then I speed up to slaps. Faster and harder and he whines out a thank you Goddess after every strike. I put the belt down and put a condom on my finger. Lube. You know what he really doesn't want? To cum. He doesn't want to cum for exactly 23 more minutes. I tease his asshole and he whimpers oh no, oh no, please not yet, Goddess. So I pick up my whip with all the pretty strings and whip him across the thighs and tell him to shut the fuck up. He groans and pants towards orgasm, and I arrange six clothespins all pretty down his balls.
"Your wife told me to do this," I whisper in his ear before I grab his balls and squeeze them around the clothespins. Crazy bitch suits me.
When he cums I make him taste it and he pukes in the toilet, and then he sits on the couch and tells me how much money he makes and how his wife hates him. I have to go, but later I get an email about my awesomeness, and an email from his reference saying he emailed her about my awesomeness and maybe we could do a double sometime so she can see what I do.
Yeah. I'm good at hurting people. A dubious virtue.
MY PEE BITCH
The problem with my pee slut is he's flaky and unreliable as hell. "Goddess Tara," he would email, "Are you in town? I want to see you today!"
If I told him when I was coming, he would email that day or the day after to see if I could come over in an hour. All in all, he irritated the hell out of me whenever I wasn't around him, even though he's fucking adorable in person.
So we had a conversation last time. I explained to him how we started off in this weird half-friend/actual submisive zone. I explained to him all the ways that he
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