Prior to the fall of the housing market some years ago, my life was both difficult and simple. The thought of losing the lap of luxury kept me engaged at work. I was abreast old and current market trends always looking to be a step ahead of everyone. The difficulty of staying viable at my job made the rest of my material life simple. What I didn’t account for was that the same place that sustained my livelihood was deteriorating at the core. The greed at the helm was playing gambling games with fake money, just as they were with other people’s finances. In turn, the world came tumbling down taking with it my security.
Savings disappeared in less than a year trying to maintain my status. I watched in much desperation as my possessions were taken away to be auctioned off at a fraction of the cost. All I had was a fridge half filled with old groceries, and a bank-book taling to zero. The desire of corporate America to hire someone at my salary, position and age simply wasn’t there. “You are as good as hired, we’ll call you upon confirming your salary”, was the normal response from HR recruiters who never did contact me.
One night I suddenly awakened covered in sweat. I dreamed that I was being pulled out of my flat by the police. The landlord and lawyers laughed, holding up my bank-book pointing at the zero in the total column, mocked me. “How far have the wanna-be’s fallen”, they repeated constantly. In the dream, I was driven to the Park & Ride off of exit 57 in the Expressway, and told I had no place to live. Confronted with the reality that I will lose the roof over my head, I had to act as severe as was reality. That’s the part that awakened me.
In the morning I took a cab to the Park & Ride. I sat at the waiting station for about 3 hours wondering what I was to do to prevent any further financial difficulties from taking place. I dressed as if going to work on a casual-friday; brought an empty briefcase just to mesh-in with the everyday worker. After three hours I gave up hope. I could not find the meaning of the dream, nor an answer to preventing the last of my world from crumbling. I stood up, looked left, looked right and when about to walk in the direction of the taxi stand, a young woman pulls up next to me. “How much”, she said. “How much what?”, I answered. “Listen, I’m clean. Young, pretty, have money to pay you. Why in the righteous world would you assume I’m an official trying to pick you up?”, she replied.
I still hadn’t the faintest idea about what she was talking. I looked puzzled and walked away, still she pressured on.
“Listen, listen, get in the car. I’ll drive you to wherever you want. Just get in”, said she.
At this point I had little to lose. My life wasn’t worth much, so losing it would likely be the better option. So, I hung my head low, looked in her direction, and reluctantly agreed. I boarded the vehicle, and told her to park. That I wasn’t about to let anyone drive me anywhere. She laughed, telling me that I could stop the games. She pulled out five one-hundred-dollar bills from her purse.
“I’m not looking for just anyone. I want a regular, someone I can come to here at Park & Ride and know he’ll be here, and even if with another, will stop and come to me.”
“Hm, I’m listening”, said I.
“I come here twice, thrice a week, some days more than once a day. I pay cash. My husband is a two-timing scum, and this is how I will return the favor”, said the young girl.
“You are too young to be married, and if you are asking me for sexual intercourse, I’m not sure I’m comfortable with that”, I said.
“Why are you here, then. I’ve watched you for the past three hours and you’ve sat there waiting for someone. You don’t look like the rest of them. You don’t run down, tired, broke, homeless, nor bisexual”, bluntly said she.
“Rubbish, you don’t know anything about me. What you should do is go home to your parents, give back their money and repent”, was my response to her.
She continued laughing, tossed the money on my lap, jumped on the back-seat and said, “Look around, it’s no secret why people who don’t have to commute come here.”
I looked around and it all instantly clicked. The cars that stopped in front of me all that time were trying to figure out who I was and what I was doing there. I wasn’t dress the same as the others, so they must have been scared off, and not requested anything from. Now I know why people of all sexes and types went into cars yet, the vehicles never moved. The Park & Ride had become a sex shop.
“Do you request, or do I do?”, I asked her.
“Today, you do. Whatever the $500 will get me”, said she.
I didn’t jump on the back-seat, instead I opened the door, walked to the back door and went inside. She looked nervous, very nervous. Now, not only did I lose most of my material possessions, but so did all the women who frolicked with me because of my financial abilities. I hadn’t been with anyone in the past six months. Because of depression, however, I wasn’t really that much interested in the pleasures of the flesh. I really felt like a “no one” without the cash to flaunt.
Now, this young girl laid in front of me. Long hair, slim, well groomed. She couldn’t possibly be in her late 20s yet. What was she doing married? Now looking to repay her husband for his transgressions! Well, his present was mine to have. Of all things I miss the most, well, is the tender touch of a woman’s secret against my mouth. Hair, cleanly shaved, groomed, even medieval has never been a concern. Just the touch, the taste, the view, the aroma entrenched upon my lips once done. That’s what I enjoy, and miss most.
To have my lips and tongue entangled in struggle for pleasure where I might not be the recipient of a climax, but I feel as if I were the winner. I approached her closely, pulled down her shorts midway to her thighs and took a prolonged look at her underwear that was visibly moist. The middle part rode up on her… I grabbed it and pulled it out for her. She smiled. I proceeded to pull it to the side to take a close look. She was very well groomed, shaved in most of the area except a line about two fingers wide that went from the mouth of her vulva up about two inches or so. The hair strands were visible manicured close enough to the skin, but not too close. Just perfect for her, really.
I leaned forward and kissed her just at the mouth of vulva. She was soft, very soft, supple, flawless skin, colourful, and most rewarding, the moisture touched my lower lip enticing a goosebumps-reaction from my body. My tongue escaped me quickly and slid right between her inner labia. The desire was solely to taste her, to experience this young woman. I traced my tongue around to gauge both my comfort after such long departure from the secrets of the body, and her willingness to let me lead.
The shorts came off of her, as did her underpants. The skin on her legs was as enticing as was that on her crotch; a piece of white paper had more blemishes than did her skin. From her navel down to her toes I stared at her in awe of this Godly-sight of perfection. She looked down at me with shy yes, but the grasp of her teeth on her bottom lip indicated she was well aware of the effect of a tongue soothing away her husbands iniquities. However she came about this “eye for an eye” decision, I was delighted that it was me who she selected. There was truly no payment required for my “services”, it would have been payment enough to swallow my own saliva mixed with her saturation.
It was quick thought, knowing what I was to do. The lengthy absence of female touch during the last months of my life indicated that I was to consume her; being that it was also a financial transaction, I had to ensure her side of the agreement was as fruitful as mine. I pull her feet up on the back-seat, situate my head between them, slide my hands under her buttocks and position her to my liking: her bottom raised some few inches from the ground. There aren’t any obstacles interrupting my mouth from easily contouring through her.
The plush of her lips against my lips causes sighs, deep breaths from both of us. She is more than a mouthful, plenty a woman. The moisture on her indicates that she was no stranger to the game; that she is well aware of what she likes, and what it means. Readily engorged, she honestly looks as if having just had naughty moments before finding me. I swear that my lips feel the palpitation of blood rushing through her body from the touch of her lips. I delve straight to her left inner thigh. She smells freshly bathed, as if she just out of the shower, where the scent of coconut-cream soap refuses to leave behind the touch of her skin… stays behind to rejoice in the secretion that is about to obscure it.
I position my hands so that the thumbs are able to trace from her butt forward to her vulva. I press deeply, running them along back and fro as if massaging her, all while my lips trace the soft of her skin from inner thigh, around her outer lips and up to the other inner thigh.
Before I have a chance to fulfill my whim for her skin, she grabs a chunk of my hair, lifts my face up and says, “That’s where that warm tongue belongs”, then proceeds to shove my face against the vagina as if looking to shove me inside of her. Had it been a fight for my life, I would have fought back, instead, I attempt to lick her best I can. The most I can do is move about exactly inside of her; thankfully, I’ve been blessed with a creative tongue, and quite the unusual ability to sustain a few minutes without breathing.
When she finally releases my head, her hand comes running to my face and slaps a sweetly good smack on my lips. She cleans my mouth as well. Then, releases me to proceed to my liking. She’s unaware that I enjoy forceful play. The smacking, the biting, the scratching, even suffocation. Not that this will lead there, but her slap of my lips only urges my longing. I go directly where she had asked me and clench between my teeth soft enough where I can pull up on her outer lip without painfully hurting her. I pull up, then release and follow the receding lip right down to gorge her as if a piece of large watermelon.
That’s just how it feels, the moisture about her vulva has saturated my nose, mouth, chin and is dripping down to her perineum. I use one of my thumbs to circle about the wet area, just to help it along to her anus. I circle it, trace it about, circle it again, still tracing the anatomy of her vagina yet to tame her clitoris. The movement of her pelvis down against my thumb assures me that tracing isn’t just what she likes. I move right to her most sensitive of areas, suck it onto my lips and massage it with my tongue. She pushes down on my thumb causing it to pierce inside.
I’m thumb is inside of her, my lips and tongue tangle in a fight for pleasure against her clitoris, and with the same hand piercing her anus, the index finds comfort in the warmth of her vagina. I don’t move my hand, I leave it still… the movement is coming from her. She traces figure eights with her pelvis while grasping my head by the hair. She’s gone into recital of pleasurable lewdness. Nouns escape her tongue as if unleashed from eternal captivity. She continues to pull my face up by the hair, and shoves it down onto her crotch.
She’s now moving her pelvis incoherently-rapid in short motions. Her hand shakes against my head, and she calls out “eff u cee kay” in both verb and noun form, repeatedly. I don’t change a thing, I continue to the exact same motions as I had believing that if I change, it’ll stop whatever she’s feeling. So I continue the use of my tongue around her clitoris up and down quickly and controlled. My fingers still inside of her holding in place to withstand the motion of her pelvis against them.
She’s breathing heavily, and pulls my head up, squeezes her legs against my face, looks at me, and tells me to get the money and leave the car. I pushed her off of me, turn her around and spreed her butt-cheeks to the side and tongue, bite her butt, slap it, and massage again with my tongue over and over. It calms her immediately. I have my mouth tongue pressed against her anus so strong that had it been any stronger, it would have easily pierced through. She moves her hips again, this time side to side, her belly lifted off from the seat as if begging for more.
I put my hand on the low of her back, press down on it and slam her against the seat. “Now I’m leaving. Come back tomorrow, double the payment. You’ll hurt for days after I’m done.”
I walk out the back door, reach in to the front door to grab the payment as well as belongings when she peeks out the window and asks, “At what time?”