slinkymel's blog / Full Throttle!

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4:25 Full Throttle!

Hi!

It’s nine at night and I’ve just been dropped off at the back of the hotel, the best in the genteel seaside town where I’m meeting my client. I’m wearing a black ciré mini dress with little spaghetti straps, sheer black fully-fashioned stockings, a heavy garter belt with ten suspenders and black peephole bra. I’m traversing the puddles, trying not to get my black patent platform sandals wet, although the 7 inch heels are keeping me above the worst of the mess. As a concession to the shitty weather, I’ve got my long black PVC coat buttoned to keep out the rain. I stub my cigarette out in the road and climb the sweeping steps to the entrance, where the uniformed doorman bars my way. He knows exactly why I’m here, but a 50 pound note gains me entry into the cocooned world of the Grand Hotel. Inside, I shrug out of my coat and shake my hair like a wet puppy, showering a lady with an armour-plated blue rinse hairdo! “Really – the standards of this place are slipping!” she mutters in a cut-glass accent, while I delve deep into my repertoire of witty ripostes…….before telling her to “fuck off!” Then I am heading for the elevators, my heels click clacking on the marble floor, trailing the scent of Amouage Gold in my wake.

The client is on the sixth floor and I check myself in a mirror, tease a lock of hair over one eye like Veronica Lake, lift the hem of my dress an inch, push my boobs up and pull my neckline down a bit - then knock on the door. The John is in his early sixties, perma-tanned and with the smug, self-satisfied look of the very rich. He could have anything he wants and of course he is doing just that. Tonight, his money is buying him a worldly-wise tranny hooker with a good line in footjobs and edge play. He has not used me before, but another client recommended him. That’s how it goes in my line of work. No advertising and no audit trail for discerning clients who’d rather their wife didn’t know they spend their spare time bedding chicks with dicks!

The John smells of expensive cologne as he comes close and kisses one bare shoulder. Then he takes my coat and fixes me a drink that I can enjoy because my girlfriend has dropped me off and will collect me when the punter has had his money’s worth. We sit on the edge of the bed and make small talk about the weather while we sip our drinks and I surreptitiously let my hem ride up to expose a stocking top, stretched tight by the battery of suspenders. That does it all right and he puts his glass down and draws me into his arms. He’s rough, like most punters, cos he’s doing stuff to me he can’t get away with at home. His teeth bruise my lips and his tongue thrusts into my mouth while his hands pull my dress over my thighs to expose the suspender straps, stretched over my tanned thighs. Then he runs his tongue down my chest, leaving a glistening trail of saliva, until he reaches my stocking tops. Over the next half hour he licks every inch of both my stockings, paying intimate attention to the soft flesh at the back of my knees before he finally reaches my sandals.

I unbutton his shirt then unzip his trousers and his cock is thick and meaty and I decide there and then that I do not want it within a mile of my tight little ass! I take it into my mouth while he nibbles my glossy white-painted toenails through my sheer stockings. Then his tongue slips under my toes and he makes slurping noises as he sucks loudly and messily on them. I arch my feet to present my foot pussy and his tongue leaves my toes and finds this new playground, wetting my instep and filling my shoe with sticky saliva. The guy pulls away and I reluctantly let his cock go, as he tries to coax me into the kneeling position. I don’t move quick enough so he slaps me hard on the butt and I squeal and adopt the position. Next he grabs one leg and sucks on my heel, all seven inches disappearing into his mouth as he pushes my lacy black panties to one side. Unfortunately the John’s dictionary don’t include the word ‘foreplay’ because he pokes one finger unceremoniously up my ass, followed by another, then another, as he slobbers noisily and takes both heels into his mouth. I’m wriggling about and trying not to squeal too loudly, as he finger fucks my ass. My squirming is obviously spoiling his enjoyment cos, next thing, he slaps me again, really hard. I stay still so he can get the maximum enjoyment out of deep throating my heels while he attempts to get all five fingers up my bum!

I have my teeth gritted and I’m thinking of the fat pay check when he’s finished with me so I don’t notice him removing my sandals. I certainly frickin notice when he pulls his fingers out and instantly replaces them with one of my heels. I squeal really load and he slaps me again and threatens to gag me - so I shut up! He has my other shoe over his face sniffing noisily before he starts to lick the inner sole. Jeez – he must be a true devotee cos I’ve had these plats for ages and the inner sole has been stained by several of my previous clients. I don’t let on that he’s licking up about twenty guy’s DNA as I’m trying to remain still as seven inches of stiletto heel disappears up my ass! Then, suddenly he’s on top of me and I’m kneeling, pinned to the bed by his weight as his cock slides into the shoe sticking out my butt and he starts to fuck it. My other plat appears in front of my face with a command “lick it clean – bitch!” I’m not so frickin smug now as I dutifully clean his spit from my shoe then help myself to the remaining DNA. In a surreal moment of clarity I calculate it’s nearer forty guys than twenty……then wish I hadn’t bothered!

My hopes that he might cum in my shoe and end what is turning into a very long and painful session are dashed as he pulls away from me. My shoe follows then roughly rolls me onto my back. “Lick it clean!” He orders as he pushes the heel between my baby pink lips. I’ve had worse – at least it’s only been up my ass! He fumbles with my suspender clips and I feel the tension go from my stockings before he carefully rolls them off. I dare not stop sucking on my own heel and my vision is blocked by the shoe as he does something with one stocking. Then he pulls my shoe from my mouth and I see that he has tied a slipknot in each end of one stocking. He pulls me towards him, hands me my other shoe and presents his hairy butt to me. Fcuk! That was unexpected! As gently as I can, I insert my heel into his ass. He could learn a bit of consideration from me cos I lubricate it with my spit so I don’t hurt him. I don’t give a stuff about his ass – I just want my money and I won’t get that if he ends up in A & E! Anyway, my heel slides in all the way and by the way he is hopping about, he ain’t used to this! Then he holds the shoe in place and turns over so he is sitting facing me, with the shoe trapped under him, still up his ass.

His cock is still stiff and swollen and he tells me to sit on it with my legs round his waist. I hesitate, cos it’s frickin huge, and I know it’s gonna hurt, but he grabs my hair and pulls me towards him - so I do as he says. I squeal again and get slapped again as he enters me and I almost faint as he slides his full length into me until I am impaled on him, clinging to his waist for support. I’m resigned to the fact I’m gonna get a good seeing-to so I start to move up and down on his shaft. His pole swells to stretch me further, but I’m past caring now. The next surprise is when he takes one stocking and pokes the toe up one of his nostrils and the heel up the other, getting about as close and personal to my hosiery as possible! He stuffs the spare nylon into his mouth and sucks and sniffs while he slips each end of the other stocking over our necks. I should have seen where this was leading -he asked for a tranny who will go to the very edge. Self-preservation makes me stay close to him to keep the noose slack but he’s having none of it. With a muffled gasp he flings his head back and both slipknots tighten. I try to go with him but he holds me at arms length and thrusts up into me and suddenly I want what he wants.

With a moan I arch my back and bend away from him, tightening the loops and stretching the stocking. The blood pounds in my head and I have difficulty swallowing as we lean further and further from each other. My own cock is tucked right between my legs and has swollen to the point where it threatens to burst out of its silky nest. The John’s shaft brushes my glans every time it thrusts into me and pretty soon I feel my own climax approaching. It’s rare for me to cum when I’m on the job. Most punters don’t give a stuff about my pleasure and why should they cos they is paying for their own pleasure. Every so often I manage to get an ‘unintended’ climax and the prospect of that made me lose all reason. Impossibly, his cock swells even more and I ride him, guttural grunts of pleasure escaping from my constricted throat as he fucks my shoe with his own ass as we fall into a rhythm. The stocking is stretched like a bow string and I can no longer swallow. My vision is dimming and my head swimming as I sense his glans engorge deep inside me before he cums explosively. I barely feel his orgasm sending jet after jet of hot cum into me as he rams his ass onto my heel one last time and spits the stocking from his mouth with a gasp. His eyes are bulging, as I know mine must be, then my eyes glaze over.

I come-to with a splitting headache and surprisingly gentle hands removing the stocking from my throat. “Thanks Babes” I croak before this act of tenderness is spoiled by him pushing one of my heels into my mouth. I’m past caring and I dutifully clean it while he uses my stockings to wipe his cock. I’m just glad I’ve survived and I thank my lucky stars he didn’t pass out too - or we’d be both making the Sunday tabloids and the obituary column of the local rag! Having wiped sundry bodily fluids onto my stockings he tosses them at me and stands and wraps a towel over his hairy paunch. I sense he’s not one for romantic reflection, so while he reaches for his wallet, I start to dress. After a brief contemplation I decide my stockings are just too gross to wear so I buckle my plats over bare feet, straighten my panties and smooth the hem of my dress. He hands over a bundle of notes - which I don’t insult him by counting. I can tell by the thickness there’s about two thousand quid there – double my usual rate and adequate compensation for a sore ass and a near-death experience. He obviously thinks the transaction is satisfactory because he books me for another date in a couple of months. I hesitate for a moment as I remember how close to checking-out I’d been only a few minutes previous. However show me a hooker who’s not a greedy hooker and I’ll show you a liar – so I make a note in my diary and leave the room.

Standing at the same mirror, I fix my lippy and straighten my hair. The livid red weal around my neck stands out like a greyhound’s balls so I take a white silk scarf from my bag and tie it loosely, then head for the elevator. The blue-rinsed harridan and her friend are at reception haranguing the staff about something and the silly cow has left her bag on the seat. There is nobody else around and the doorman is looking the other way so I open the bag, stuff my stockings inside and stroll nonchalantly into the night air!

Lotsa love

Melanie

xxxx




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