Unhappy Ending

I've been very careful during the pandemic, and haven't done much in the way of dating (or fucking). I've got family members who are older and some have pre-existing conditions, so I haven't taken many chances. I was jacking off two to three times a day, and lamented that this was a bad time to be a single guy. I got so horny last year that at one point I considered calling up my ex-wife. That would have been a REALLY bad decision. Thank God I didn't act on that impulse.

But they've opened up vaccinations in my state for everybody, so I'm now fully vaxed and not nearly as nervous about resuming my sex life. I resolved that this would be a good time to buy some condoms and use them.

There is this lingerie/sex novelty store that carries my brand of condoms. I like it because it's a more upscale place to shop than most adult book stores, plus they have the latest and greatest sex toys. The staff there are well trained and professional. It's clean with security cameras, and in a safe part of town. I'm not embarrassed about going in there because it's a legit business, yet they have plenty of kinky items to tickle your fantasies. There's a separate BDSM section behind a curtain for the more adventurous, too.

So I go in and head straight to the section that has lube and condoms. They seemingly had every brand on the planet EXCEPT Trojan Magnum XLs. I stood there gawking and shaking my head giving off negative body language. It has taken me forever to find a condom that fits right, doesn't break, and doesn't affect sensation. I was ready to hit the road and try elsewhere when a woman came up behind me and asked if she could help me find something.

Even wearing her Covid mask, she had striking features and was sporting a bit of a goth look. She had dark hair, heavy eyeliner, and piercings everywhere. Sort of Bettie Page meets Dida Von Tease. Normally this is not my type of woman, but there was something about her that oozed sex (more on that later). A couple of wrinkles around her eyes told me she wasn't in her 20s, maybe mid-thirties or early forties at the most.

I had to remind myself that I was just a customer to her, and not make a fool of myself. I asked her if they still carried my brand of condoms and she paused for a moment before answering.

"Have you tried these?"

She handed me a different brand of condom that accommodated men up to eight inches. I gave them back to her and told her they were too small. In her eyes I could see disbelief.

She disappeared for a moment and came back with several boxes of Magnums, and she asked me how many I would like. I told her I would take them all.

"Your wife must be a very happy lady."

I told her I was divorced, but was ready to start getting out again post-pandemic. I could see where this was leading.

I paid her for the condoms, but before handing me the receipt she put her name and cell number on the back. The look in her eyes was as serious as a heart attack. I reached in my wallet, gave her my business card, and told her to call me anytime. Those might have been the wrong words, because I didn't expect her to call me at midnight.

I was out cold in bed dreaming of pussy. When I answered the phone I could hear loud music in the background, and tell that she had been drinking. She was with another female who was giggling. She asked me if I'd like to meet her at the bar she was at and give her a ride home. I was still groggy and wanted to go back to sleep, but the old saying popped in my head, "you snooze, you lose". I told her I'd be there in thirty minutes. I popped a Viagra before leaving and grabbed a couple of condoms.

She was waiting with her girlfriend outside the bar when I arrived. I pulled up next to the curb, rolled down the window, and bade her to get in. She gave her friend a goodbye hug, and as she was getting in my car her friend blurted out to her, "I don't believe you. Send me a picture".

Her place was only about fifteen minutes away, but during that short time I feel like I got to know her pretty well. The first thing I found out was that in addition to working in the lingerie shop, she had other "side jobs". She exotic dances part-time, she escorts part-time, does cam shows part-time, and she's an aspiring dominatrix. I thought to myself, "great, now I'm going to have to pay for it."

When we arrived her place, I stayed in the car while she got out.

"I don't have long, so you need to come in now."

I asked her if she wanted me to come in as a friend or a client. She gave me a dirty look and told me hurry up and follow her inside. I had barely closed the door behind me when she came at me like a hungry a****l. She quickly unbuckled my belt, unzipped my fly, and tugged my underwear down to my ankles. The Viagra was already starting to do its job and I was partially erect. She was smiling and nodding in approval.

She dropped to her knees and started running her tongue up and down my cock and balls. I closed my eyes and stood there with my hands on my hips while she spread her dark goth lipstick all over my cock. She was an expert in the art of sloppy blowjobs, and her saliva was dripping everywhere from my cock.

We went into her bedroom and as I expected there was a lot of kinky stuff in there. Bondage art work, a whip hanging from the wall, a dresser drawer full of strapons, slutwear, dominatrix boots, a Hitachi vibrator on the nightstand, etc.. I removed the rest of my clothes and laid down on her bed with my erection bobbing up and down. I put on a condom and was ready to start pounding her. I wanted her bad. Then it got weird.

"Do you mind if I take a selfie?"

Huh? I assumed she wanted to take a regular selfie of our faces, but she wanted to take a selfie of her face and my cock. Before I could answer yes or no, she had already snapped a picture and texted it to her girlfriend. Her phone was dinging messages for a few minutes interrupting us. I asked her if she would turn it off so that we could focus on the business at hand, but she said she often gets messages through the night. Such is the life of a sex worker.

She got on the bed and I was ready to mount her, but she pushed me back down on my back. She told me it was better for her to be on top and take it at her own pace. Sure enough she grabbed my cock and worked it around her opening slowly guiding it in. I thought with all the professional fucking she does, she wouldn't be very tight. I was wrong.

I'm in the habit of face watching. I like all the facial expressions women make during sex. Watching pleasure, watching pain, watching cumming...the nonverbal doesn't lie. She kept sliding a little further down my pole and with every new inch there was a new facial expression. She didn't take it all, but damn close. She had a crazed look in her eyes, her body soaked in sweat, and her nipples were hard as rocks. She grabbed the Hitachi and started working her clit while she rode me. It didn't take long for her to cum, and I was thinking, "great, now it's my turn", but that's not how things turned out. Her cell rang at the worst possible moment.

She climbed off me, grabbed her cell, went into the master bathroom, and left me there with a dick hard enough to cut diamonds. "How rude," I thought. I heard her talking to someone on the phone, and I knew something was going on. Husband? Boyfriend? Client? I don't know, but her attention was with someone else and I wasn't going to stick around to find out. I got dressed and got the hell out of there.

She called me the next day and apologized...sort of. She explained that she never turns down work and I would just have to accept that if I'm going to hang around with her. She also told me the best we could ever be is fuck buddies. I'm okay with that if I get to cum next time. Is that asking too much?