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Title: My Gigolo Ways
Keywords: mf
Author: Caesar

A wide-bottomed girl named Trasket
Had a hole as big as a basket.
A spot, as a bride,
In it now, you could hide,
And include with your luggage your mascot.

My Gigolo Ways (originally titled Dream #6)

by Caesar, copyright 1992-2002

$Revision: 1.7 $ $Date: 2002/04/15 14:07:26 $

Well, its a job. At first it was just the thrill of earning money
while I had sex with some very attractive woman. Now the sex has
turned to work and the money seems to disappear in only days.

Yup, you guessed it, I was a male hooker, gigolo, whatever you wish to
call me. I don't walk the streets waiting for a woman to "purchase"
me. Hell no. I stalk them, going to hotels, airport, even grocery
malls. Most of my clients are older ladies whom have been married for
a very long time, their spouses are not loving nor good in bed. They
wouldn't ever admit to being with me, nor would they have gone looking
for a man of my skills.

I have many stories about delicious sex scenes and gorgeous ladies.
But this is a little different. I put on a show for my clients, and
in reality don't expose much in the way of emotion. I have seen it
all, tasted it all, and fucked it all.

Yet Betty-Lou was different!

You guessed it. She was indeed a client. One that I had found
drowning her sorrows in alcohol at a small pub late one night.
Usually I only proposition the older, obviously wealthier woman. But
this lady looked down and was very attractive, and I knew I had a
remedy for her. At least temporarily.

From her point of view, she saw a well dressed young man sitting at
the bar looking at her calmly with a smile upon his face. When I saw
her eyes finally look steadily into mine, either questioning or
daring, I knew she was another prospective client.

"Excuse me madam, would it be too forward of me to ask to sit with

She looked surprised but nodded yes. Then she took my offered hand
and I told her my name and she hers. I knew the name Betty-Lou was
not real, few of my clients used a real name. And I didn't us mine
either, going by Julian.

I sat across from her at the small round table and began an animated
conversation with her. This part of the job was perhaps the easiest.
If a woman was feeling neglected or saddened with her lot in life, she
is most thrilled with the pleasure of a man openly talking with her.
Sex did not come into the picture until later. Betty-Lou evaded the
subject of marriage and I knew that was why she sat hear and drank
booze by herself at one in the morning.

The initial seduction was just talking and getting to know the ladies.
If that was accomplished the other parts were easy. A woman is most
comfortable if she is relaxed and happy. To that end I am also good
at making a lady laugh, a sound that I particularly enjoy.

From the talking soon followed the casual glances and a brief touch,
perhaps a hand upon my arm. It took quite some time before Betty-Lou
was laughing with me, her hand reaching across to pat the back of
mine. I knew if I go to fast, this one would quickly be gone.
Something was the matter with this woman, and a remote part of me
wanted to help, the other part said stick to business.

My new friend and I talked for almost a full hour, I beginning the
perfect listener, while I comfortably let her do most of the talking.
I could see that my powers of seduction had not been wasted with this
lonely woman. Her breathing was long and heavy, her nipples obviously
pointing in this warm environment, her hand almost constantly holding
mine. But it was her eyes that told me the tale, when this lady was
open to a suggestion of love.

I was pleasantly surprised when she suggested we go "upstairs". I
thought I would have to ask that question. Now all that was left was
my fee? I saw the shocked look upon her face turn to relief when I
told her. She nodded, with a delightful blush on her cheeks. With
some woman it was easier to cheat on their man with a total stranger.
With some keeping it professional and detached was safer.

I being the perfect gentleman paid the drinks and held the door to the
elevator as she entered it. Another gentleman was eying my maid, but
she ignored both of us. We emptied onto her floor and I followed her
to a classically boring hotel room.

Only after the door was closed did Betty-Lou change her demeanour.
"How much do you cost?" Honest question. I told her and she gasped,
yet didn't complain only dig into her purse for the funds. She held
the bundle of cash out to me, but I ignored it and nodded for her to
place it on the side table. "Take your clothes off, I want to see you
naked." She ordered, now knowing her place.

My clothes were quickly discarded. I lay upon the bed and watched her
watch me. To hasten her, I began to stroke my sex, heightening its
excitement. Before she could begin to disrobe, I jumped up and went
to her side. My hands found the buttons and zippers to her clothing
and I soon disrobed her. I found many women enjoyed being stripped by
their partner, a foreign thing to many a married woman. As I worked,
her right hand had found and grasped my penis, ensuring its size from
shrinking with her firm grasp.

A sigh escaped her mouth as her lips finally found mine. My tongue
slowly speared into her mouth fondling her lips and teeth. My free
hand reached behind her and grasped her round bottom, feeling the
wonderful texture and smoothness. The other held the back of her
head, firmly yet gently. Perhaps there was something she wanted from
me that could not be found at home. Usually with my clients their was
something they wanted. Tenderness, passion, compassion, or...!

She pulled her lips from mine and whispered, "I want you to...", she
paused and had trouble swallowing, "...spank me." The last spoken so
quietly that I almost didn't hear it. Yet it was not an unusual
request, some woman enjoy the pat of a hand upon the bottom as a form
of excitement. Myself I didn't enjoy such, but didn't mind giving.

"Come here." I walked backwards to the bed, holding her hand with my
own. I sat on the edge of the bed, and nodded for her to bend over my
lap. Her eyes got bigger and a large smile appeared upon her face.
Almost dainty she bent forward until the majority of her weight was
upon my lap. Of course her round bottom was raised mightily in the
air. What a gorgeous sight it was, I placed a hand gently upon that
fair white skin and fondled the soft skin. Several minutes went by
and I knew that waiting for her punishment can be a torture in itself,
so I took my time. I sensed that only a light tap would do to satisfy
this lady, yet I always do as much as possible to please my customers!
Betty-Lou would leave with a very large smile upon her face, let alone
being very tired.

My hand very quickly rose up and then dropped to her delightful
bottom. I was sorry to do it, yet it is what the customer ordered,
and it is what the customer is going to get. Betty-Lou jerked
mightily as the hand hit flatly upon her smooth bottom. As my hand
rose again, I could see that a my hand was imprinted with a red mark
upon that white skin. Again the hand hit, she jerked again upon my
lap, her legs kicking out. Again. And again. Her reactions were
getting more violent with each slap, yet my spankings were always with
the same strength. She was even sobbing to herself, but she knew her
place, she could easily order me to stop. She didn't.

Yet her bottom was a bright red and her body shining with the sheen of
a fine sweat. Her hair was in a disorder and her hands were
trembling. It was time, "Onto the bed Betty-Lou." I spoke with a
neutral voice, not revealing anything to the already tired woman. I
could see her face as she climbed upon the bed, her face showed her
exhaustion but she also had a huge pleasant smile. She choose the
position that she wanted, on her hands and knees. My personal
favourite actually.

I knelt behind her, my iron hard penis expertly aimed right at her
pulsating wet sex. Without hand I sunk forward and felt myself sink
deep into her vagina. Betty-Lou sighed hugely then dropped to her
shoulders, presenting me with her abused and red asset. I didn't
begin my male thrusts yet, no, instead I rubbed my hand over that
hotly throbbing buttocks. She was a very attractive woman, and I had
secretly enjoyed smacking her bottom. Yet would never admit it to

My hands slide around her and felt for her full breasts, immediately
feeling the hard poking nipples between my finger and thumb. She
groaned again, her voice gasped out, "Please...begin...!"

The customer is always right. I pulled my shaft all the way out
before driving it back into her. She began to softly whimper into the
pillow before her face. I grabbed the back of her hair with one hand
and pulled her face from the bed. "There is no reason to be quiet
Betty-Lou. Scream as loud as you want, no one will care." I proved
my point with a sharp tap to one of her tender rear cheeks with my
free hand. She did indeed scream, a loud passion filled scream,
filled with pleasure and enjoyment. I began to earnestly pump into
that warm wet gully off love. My long thick penis pulling all the way
out before driving back in.

Some ladies that I serviced turned into a wild woman upon paying their
fee. Yet Betty-Lou only wanted the closeness and passion of a orgasm
that she had silently requested I give her. Sometimes with a customer
I turned into a machine, using my devices and experience to bring out
the desired effect.

I began to feel the familiar tingling deep inside behind my balls.
And by the sounds Betty-Lou was giving, it would soon be the same for
her. I wanted to give her a orgasm that would haunt her fantasies for
many years. I jerked the tip of my cock deep inside her bringing a
surprised yet favourable effect upon the lady. And it also caused her
orgasm to begin.

The inner muscles of her love channel rippled delightful along the
length of my penis. She got extremely wet, screamed very loudly,
every muscle in her body moved separately. There was no doubt that
Betty-Lou enjoyed herself immensely. It stimulated my own orgasm,
allowing me to shoot my tribute deep within her. It only caused her
to shiver more violently.

I stood above her as she only lay in exhaustion, her head turned the
other way. I looked within her handbag, my curiosity peaked, doing
something I rarely did. The wrinkled tear stained letter I found was
proof of what was troubling this beauty. A "dear Jane" letter, the
kind mostly associated with a separation. This time it spelled the
end to Betty-Lou's marriage. A part of my tore inside and I refolded
the letter and replaced it as I had found it.

For many years I pleased woman, now I wanted to please again, this
time for someone that needed it. I gently turned her upon her back,
spreading her legs. Her eyes were half open as she watched me, often
looking down upon my tired wet cock. I kept my eyes onto hers as I
lowered my lips to her vagina. I began to please this woman with my
long years of professional love making.

Betty-Lou arched her back upwards, her hands came to grasp the top of
my head. I began to gently stimulate that wonderful stranger organ
that woman are entrusted with. I knew this woman would wake late the
next morning, the money she offered me still on the dresser, exhausted
and happy. For some reason that was enough of a reason to do
everything to make her happy. Very little mattered in life for me at
that moment except to make this lady smile with genuine pleasure. Its
something I do well, its my job!



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