Hello this is my first story, hope you all enjoy it, please let me know what you thought of it.
My name is Valerie Lewis, and I’m a whore. No, not the kind Julia Roberts played in Pretty Woman, I don’t do this because it’s the only job I can find or hold. I do it because I love sex. Any kind of sex, all kinds of sex, upside-down, sideways, in a car, on a horse- yes it can be done although highly tricky- hell you name it and I’ve probably done it and if I haven’t I am more then willing too try. Although I am a whore it’s not the only job I have. I’m a freelance contract writer, working from home gives me all the luxury and liberties I need or would ever want where as working behind a desk from 9 to 5 would limit and constrict me. Forcing my sensibilities to be drowned under a sea of pencil pushing, nose picking bored, the only excitement to be had around a water cooler where the hot topic of the day might be sales or numbers. Not to mention if I did work in an office I would have the chance of running into people I fuck, which wouldn’t be a good thing. I like my life uncomplicated and having to keep straight who did what and who was in what social group was to much work to have sex. Working at home was not only good for stay at home moms with three kids but sexaholics like myself as well. No thank you, I much prefer the solitude of my computer and cat companion Carly, who was currently lapping at her fur, giving herself a personal bath. Carly was a long haired Chinese cat, her coat a multitude of colors, brown, black, grey and some red weaved there way through her fur giving her an exotic look. Carly’s alluring features had probably been why I bought her at the local pet store three years ago when I had been on my way to get groceries. Funny how life is, I had been out to buy salmon for dinner and instead of fish I got a cat for all time. Blinking at me Carly got up, stretched and padded her way down to the kitchen were her food and water awaited. Doing some stretching of my own, my back and arms enjoyed the bite of tension then release as I reached toward the ceiling my back arching into the air. Oh, that felt so good, so did sleeping late on Sundays, which was what I was doing now. Hearing my Blackberry Pearl chime to life, the song I Wanna Be Bad, telling me it was Shelly I smiled. Rolling over in the king sized bed I reached for my cell phone picking up by the third ring. With my best Marilyn Monroe voice I said, “Hey baby wanna dance?” This was per-usual how our phone conversations started off. Our zany sense of humor coupled with tacky sayings said in disastrous impersonations always had us laughing. Hearing a snort on the other end of the line I smiled. “No I don’t want to dance, I want to go shopping, or even go see a movie. You know that new film with Hugh Jackman is out and you get to see him shirtless, can we say yummy boys and girls.” I could just picture Shelly waggling her eyes brows while good naturally drooling into her morning cup of coffee with the thought of Jackman shirtless. He was indeed a prime piece of meat. “Well as long as we saw the movie or went shopping before 3 p.m. I would be willing.” “Oh,” Shelly’s interest was piqued, “what are you doing at 3 p.m.? Have a hot date?” “Yes, actually I do.” “Going to give me the gory details or let my mind wonder with the infinite possibilities?” The teasing note of my friend’s voice was underlined by a fine edge. Shelly was the only person, friend or relative, whom I trusted with the knowledge of me being a whore. She understood why I did it, even envied me the total freedom it gave me. Although I knew she would never admit to being envious I could tell by the way she asked certain questions or listened intently to my stories. Shelly was my best friend, we had met in our last year in college in our Physic class, the teacher had been a complete bore and we had talked the entire time, then crammed all the information we needed in an all nighter before the final. Twelve years later she was now happily married with two adorable, if not tiresome children, and lived the life everyone aspired to. However as happy as she was, Shelly had admitted to me after seven years of marriage the excitement and playful sex had slowly decreased in her marriage, which was why I suspected her jealousy. I knew Shelly would never cheat, nor would her husband, but she did want some kind of action, obviously action she was missing at home. So I told her all my sexual escapades hoping it would spark her own imagination and take charge in her personal life. “I’m meeting my faithful John at the Ritz Carlton in Half Moon Bay.” My faithful John as I called him was a regular customer, had been for the last three years after his wife had passed away. I took pity on him and only ask that he pay for the room and expenses, i.e. room service, the mini fridge, cable, or whatever came with the room they used. Now as I said before I have a full time job that pays my bills and general expenses, so I don’t whore for money, just the sex, however I am not above receiving gifts or whatever my customers decide to give me. Faithful John, or Leonardo De Salvo, was a kind, gentle man in his late fifties. He had been married to his wife for thirty years before cancer took her away from him. Leo had told me he had no interest in dating, he’d had the love of his life and no one would ever compare. But, he had said, he was still a man, and after being alone for two years he had gone looking for someone to share his bed, if only for a little while and infrequently. That’s where I come in. A friend of his had recommended me, saying I was more then capable to service his needs and keep animosity about our interludes. After a brief interview he had agreed to take my body as service. The rest was history. Now every year about this time, late June, he would call and ask me to meet him at a hotel and we would spend the next afternoon- or longer- locked in whatever room he had booked and have sex, any and all kinds. “Oh, I like him,” Shelly was saying, “he’s a sweet old man. Do you think he will tie you up this time?” The eagerness of my friend’s tone was commendable, she reminded me of a kid on Christmas morning hoping for a favored present. “I don’t know Shell, what ever he wants I do.” Which was true, I had very little discrepancy. “Promise if he ties you up or does anything new you will tell me,” she said, “in detail, too.” I smiled; really I was going to have to do something about her lackluster sex life soon if she didn’t take care of matters personally. “Of course Shell, don’t I always?” There was a brief pause on the other end of the line. “Yes, you do. Which is why Val, I live through you.” There was a somewhat mocking tilt to her sweet voice. Frowning I was going to question her when I heard a faint wail zip across the air waves. “Shit, gotta go Jake just hit the baby with a toy. Call me later!” The line went dead ending our brief conversation. Blowing out a breath I hit end on my Blackberry and set it back onto the bedside table. Going over the conversation in my head I thought of the various plans I had to enhance my friend’s sex life, really no one needed to suffer in that department. There were so many ways to have a great sex life, with toys, with out toys, with two bed partners or more, the possibilities were endless. I just had to pick the right one and gently bring it up the next time I spoke to her. Glaring at my clock radio it said 10 a.m. I had five hours to kill before meeting Leo in Half Moon Bay. Rising slowly from my cozy bed I made my way to the bathroom to take care of my immediate needs. Completing those tasks I fixed myself breakfast, read the news paper and was basically lazy enjoying my Sunday leisure. One o’clock came and I quickly jumped into the shower, blew out my hair till it shined then covered my body from head to toe in lotion; the sent was Jasmine and Moonbeams. Going to my dresser I picked out something I thought Leo would like. Bypassing the innocent white lace with pink ruffles I quickly found a deep green and black silk thong and matching corset. Perfect. Putting on the items I decided to accessories with black thigh high stockings which required garters. Surveying my appearance in the full length mirror in the bathroom I smiled. My black shoulder length hair shinned, curling at the ends, my face was clean wearing the bare minimum make up- water proof mascara, a little rouge on the apples of my cheeks and coral colored lip gloss. The mascara mad my grey eyes look smoky. My peaches and cream complexion was paler due to the black and green lingerie. I cupped my full breasts and moaned my nipples hardened as I pinched and rolled them with my thumb and forefinger. I could feel my pussy growing wet with need as I stood there before the mirror watching myself. Images of the night to come assailed me and I couldn’t wait to get to the hotel. Eying the clock it read 2:13 p.m. not enough time for a quickie. It took me half an hour or forty-five minutes to get to Half Moon Bay depending on traffic. Groaning at the injustice I quickly through on a simple black dress- something easy to take off that didn’t require a lot of hassle- grabbed my purse and was out the door. Forty minutes later I handed my car keys to the valet and strode into the plush hotel. There in the lobby was Leo. He stood six foot three inches tall, proud wide shoulders draped in a blue dress shirt, his vine roped arms carried his forgotten jacket. I licked my lips surveying him from top to bottom. His brown hair was cut in business fashion; there was a little gray starting at his temples which made him looked distinguished, adding charm. His powerful body was encased in a business suit, I had yet to see him in a pair of jeans or slacks, he always seemed to be coming from a business meeting.