He took a step back, his eyes darkening slowly as he scanned my entire body: the full breasts rising and falling with my quickened breath, the hard, perky nipples, the smooth belly trembling slightly, the thighs parted just enough. He took a deep breath, and I could see his chest expanding, his cock throbbing visibly under the wet underwear.
— Perfect… you're perfect — he murmured hoarsely, his voice full of pure worship for my body.
He pulled me close again with that firm, tender grip, pressing our bodies together with hot kisses trailing down my neck, his tongue wandering wet from my ear to my shoulders, nipping lightly at the sensitive skin that sent shivers everywhere. His hands explored my curves without rushing: sliding up my ribs, tracing my waist, climbing to my breasts.
When he touched them, I moaned, surrendering completely, his thumbs circling the hard nipples in slow, torturous motions, sending a sweet wave of shock through me in a light, delicious way. Then he squeezed harder, ramping up the pressure, fingers pinching lightly, tugging, rolling them between thumb and forefinger until I arched my back and let out a long moan mixed with a joyful smile that echoed through the suite.
His mouth followed right after, hungry but slow. He kissed down the valley between my tits, leaving a trail of hot shivers. His big hands cupped each breast firmly, and then his mouth found a nipple — he sucked slow and deep, his tongue tracing lazy, wet spirals. He switched to the other with a low groan that vibrated right against my skin, echoing in my belly and making my pussy throb, empty and aching. I threw my head back, fingers digging into his still-damp hair, pulling him closer while my hips moved on their own, seeking relief in the air.
We stayed like that for an eternal stretch, lost in endless kisses and touches. We bit each other's necks, leaving red marks that burned so damn good, tongues tangling in wet, deep, sloppy kisses tasting of champagne, salty skin, and raw desire.
His hands slid without hurry: down my back, grabbing my ass with possessive force, fingers digging into the soft flesh, parting my cheeks just a bit so the warm air could tease there; then back up to my tits, squeezing, kneading with slow, eager pressure.
Mine explored his broad chest, nails lightly scratching his defined back, trailing down his firm abs until I wrapped around his cock. I stroked him slow, feeling it pulse thick and hot in my palm, the veins bulging in time with my heartbeat, the swollen head slipping wet as I pumped up and down in a torturously calm rhythm.
Constant shivers ran up our spines, breaths panting and mixing, low moans slipping between kisses, with the soft sound of water hitting as a rhythmic backdrop to our lust.
I pushed him lightly against the wall, making him lean there, arms spread and braced, muscles tensed and glistening with the drops still trickling down. I turned my back to him, pressed my ass against his hard cock, started grinding slow… rolling in lazy circles, sliding up and down with deliberate calm, feeling the thick head rub at my pussy entrance, parting the wet lips bit by bit, slipping in the hot slick without going in yet.
He let out a hoarse groan that vibrated through my chest, his firm hands on my waist, fingers digging into my skin, guiding the rhythm as I ground harder, looser, clenching my ass against him, feeling his cock pulse hot between my cheeks.
He wanted to eat me out first. We left the pool area slow, our bodies craving, him already kissing me half-desperate, guiding me to the bed, laying me down gently on the white sheets.
His tongue explored everything with hungry patience, licking the outer lips slow, tracing the center line with the hot tip, circling my clit with pressure that switched between soft and firm, hitting spots that made my hips buck on their own, moans spilling out unchecked.
I yanked his hair hard, thighs shaking around his head, body writhing in pure pleasure. He moaned with me, the vibration against my sensitive flesh driving me wild, like he was savoring it more than I was. His tongue plunged deep, sucking my clit with slow hunger, fingers spreading my lips to expose everything. There was a moment he paused just to look at my face, see my ecstasy-twisted expression, flash a naughty grin with his lips shining, then dive back in even hungrier, sucking harder, slower, drawing out every wave until I was damn near begging.
— Fuck… you eat pussy so goddamn good… keep going just like that… — I gasped out wild between moans and satisfied grins.
Until he said he was dying to fuck me.
He climbed over me, his delicious weight covering me, the scent of man-skin and lust filling the air, and he went back to eating me, tongue relentless, fingers spreading my lips, probing deep while I moaned loud, spreading my legs as wide as they could go, hands clutching the sheets, body arching in slow, sweet waves of pleasure.
When he finished, we lay there tangled, sweaty and relaxed bodies pressed together, chatting about silly shit, laughing softly between lazy kisses on the mouth, neck, forehead. Breaths slowing down bit by bit, hearts beating in sync, that good feeling that it was amazing for both of us, that the night just flowed natural, no rush, no clock watching.
Me, personally, I love encounters like this. When there's real connection and for a moment I even forget it's "work."
But some clients are more direct, show up wanting to get straight to the good stuff, no chit-chat or foreplay. And I give it with the same heat and care. Everyone's got their way of getting off in life, right? I deliver both with full throttle, 'cause in the end, what matters is they both walk away satisfied.
I like introducing myself as a Rent-a-Girlfriend. I don't think I've properly told the origin of the name yet. It all started with a friend of my cousin who hired me to pretend to be his girlfriend. The guy had never had a real girlfriend, and his dad was always busting his balls, thinking his son was gay. So he came up with this plan: take me to a family lunch, introduce me as the perfect girlfriend.
He said the idea came from an old movie he'd watched on afternoon TV when he was a kid.
I looked it up out of curiosity later. The movie's Rent-a-Girlfriend (Can't Buy Me Love, 1987). The protagonist is Ronald Miller, played by a young Patrick Dempsey; before he became McDreamy on Grey's Anatomy. He saves up a thousand bucks mowing lawns all summer for a telescope, but when he finds out Cindy Mancini (Amanda Peterson), the hottest, most desired cheerleader in school, desperately needs that cash, he makes the offer: the money in exchange for her pretending to be his girlfriend for a month. The scheme works too well, and he ends up as the most popular guy in school.
I turned that into my thing. For a few hours — or a whole night — I'm the girlfriend everyone dreamed of: affectionate, attentive, kissing with real passion and making you forget about time. But with genuine heat and that guaranteed longing afterward.