The price was already negotiated. Money had exchanged hands. I was not happy about that fact, but there was really no way around it. I was in need of her "services".
The room was small. Private, but small. The bed was small. I was very nervous now. It was going to happen. I needed it to happen. The apprehension was palpable.
When we talked to her before she left, she asked the right questions. She showed the right amount of empathy. She knew that I would rather not be in the situation I was in. There were some genuine smiles and the slightest flirtation. We both were aware of the interaction about to transpire. And again... She was already getting paid... Now it was just time to do the deed.
My mind raced about how I would react. Would I be immediately gratified? Would I be hurt? The questions were spewing forth from a mental Gatling gun. I had to steel my nerves, rein in the queries and understand that it would be more "something done to me" vs. "me doing something to someone else"... It was inevitable - Agent Smith style! Was not a normal day, that much was assured.
I heard her knock on the door... Wait the appropriate three seconds and then enter. Her "uniform" was the epitome of utilitarian... It could get messy, but I knew the act itself would not take long... The build up had gone on too long...
She was carrying the tools of her trade, her implements of relief... She smiled and told me to undo my pants. I stood, and worried about losing my balance, looking the fool...
"You don't have to take them off, but slide them down...", she said. It was not a request... she commanded it. She was in full command of the action. She was the Mistress of The World at that moment. My resistance was futile. It would be of no use to negotiate any other way what was about to go down.
I slide my jeans down, exposing my flesh.
The next command came without preamble or hesitation.
"Lean over the bed. Place both of your hands flat on the bed."
I did as I was instructed... Bracing... Breathing...
The next sensation was cold and wet, as she "prepped the area"... It wasn't long now. Mere moments.
I felt her hands touch me... More forceful than gentle, her grip was methodical and well practiced. Yet there was a caring aspect to it... I completely trusted her and what she was about to do...
She asked, yet did not ask, "Are you ready. You will feel this..."
And then she was in...
The act is one I knew I would never completely, 100%, enjoy... I so desperately needed it though... It was as if the act had become vital to my continued existence... It had been too long...
Before I knew it... She was done... She withdrew as gracefully as she had entered... A true and devoted professional... I could feel the lingering effects of her penetration...
I swelled with pride that I did not cry... I did not wince... I did not let her know how much her actions had effected me.
I pulled up my jeans... Thanked her... "Manners maketh the man" and all...
The nurse left, having given me my Cortisone shot...
_________________________________
You fucking perv, (which I love ya for being!)
d
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