She opened her eyes and smiled at him. He hadn't asked for, or paid for sex but she knew from his behaviour he would probably want it. She deliberated how to broach it, but let herself go with it for the time being. She was enjoying his soft, gentle movements. He sucked her other nipple. She felt a deft hand touch the top of her hairless sex.
She gave a gentle grunt and his fingers wandered down her wet, slippery fold. She sighed and opened her eyes. “Don't you want…”
Terry shook his head and kissed her stomach and then her mons, and his tongue finally took the place of his fingers. “I want you to relax and smile.”
Grace opened her eyes wide, and started when his lips made contact. This was getting weird. In all the massage parlours and brothels she had worked at over the last two years, she had never, never had a guy go down on her. Even her boyfriends since she had first had sex six years ago, refused or only did it under protest. What was going through this guys mind?
Her ponderings were cut short as his lips darted up and down her labia and then poked at her pearl. She squealed and he sucked gently on the little button.
Grace's hands started massaging her breasts and Terry grinned. His hands went to the mouth of her pussy and oscillated in the hole. Grace cried out and Terry rolled his tongue around her engorged clitoris.
Grace shrieked, “oh god,” before making high-pitched, nasal sounds. Her loins were melting and she was desperately holding out. She couldn't orgasm, she couldn't. She never came at work, she'd save her orgasms for her boyfriends, herself or even Sandy, but not for punters.
But she was coming. Terry's artful fingers were probing deeper, and his joyful sucking on her clit was taking her over the edge.
Warmth, lustful heat, filled her loins and she cried out loudly, the sound echoing off the cold, hard walls of the small room. Her muscles quivered rapidly and her crotch exploded.
Terry smiled at her and continued his gentle touching until she had finished squealing and crying. She was still panting and he moved his face away, drying it on a towel.
They kissed briefly before Grace was snapped back to the present. She was kissing a punter, after he had gone down on her. That was wrong on so many levels and she felt acutely embarrassed.
“Now, what do you want?” Grace asked seductively but Terry just shook his head and kissed her on the cheek. He pressed a “Florence Nightingale” banknote into her hand and leaned into whisper.
“Just lunch. Tomorrow. With you, at this lovely riverside cafe. It's on me,” he replied somewhat cryptically. Grace looked at him, and he blew her a kiss. “Please,” he added with a pleading look and left the room, leaving Grace very confused but extremely satisfied.
“He did what?” A couple of the girls, including Sandy, asked in absolute shock.
“He kissed me, massaged me and went down on me,” Grace replied, still not quite believing it herself. “Incredible orgasm.”
“You lyin' gal,” one of the elder workers replied. “Those men don't come in here. We're cheap 'n' we cheerful, love.”
“Well he does but I don't know where I am supposed to meet him,” Grace answered “Even if I wanted to. Which I don't.” Sandy asked to see the ten pound note and Grace passed it to her.
“He has written it on the money,” Sandy told her, peering at the faded piece of paper. “Look!”
“Well I am not goin',” Grace replied instantly and Sandy leaned across smiling.
“Babe, you know you will. I've got hours to work on you yet.”
“There is no way I will go to meet a John for lunch. No way.”
“Is that your cat?” the old woman asked as Grace was shooing it out of the flat. She had spoken to her on an almost daily basis since helping her with the shopping and learnt that the widower was called Ethel.
“No. Well we've been adopted,” Grace admitted. “My partner wants to keep it.”
“You should let him,” Ethel replied and Grace smiled, not correcting her. “Oh, and I've baked some of my Angel Cake, I've put a couple of slices aside for you.” Ethel went indoors and returned with a small plate containing two slices of pale yellow cake. Grace smiled and thanked her.
“I need to get going, I'm meeting someone in town soon,” Grace replied and poked her head into their flat to call for Sandy who came bolting out, clothed in a beautiful summer dress.
“You know he is coming to meet me not you,” Grace teased looking at the beautiful dark-haired girl.
“Yes I know, but I like it. It shows off…”
Grace looked at the short garment. “Everything.”
“Well, yes, everything. And to be honest Grace, you might have made a bit more an effort yourself.”
“Be grateful I am going. I still can't believe you've made me,” Grace moaned as they turned into the next road. “I am sure you cheated.”
Sandy gave a grin. “I don't need to cheat,” she lied. “Yo' useless at cards when you've had a drink. And if you really didn't want to come you wouldn't have bet that, would you?”
Grace hummed. “S'pose not.”
Grace puffed out her chest and walked up to the tiny cafe on the corner of the street. Terry was reading his newspaper and didn't see Grace come up to the little table so she reached down and rubbed his neck.
“You came. I didn't think you would,” Terry admitted and Grace smiled as she sat down.
“Sandy made me,” she told him honestly and he looked across at the big-breasted, black-haired beauty sat in the corner eyeing them. “But this isn't a date. And I would like to know what you are playing at?”
Terry chortled. “I thought you might.”
“Well?”
“I like you, you make me smile. And I split up with Anne, broke off the engagement…”
“That better not be for me,” she replied quickly and he held up his hands.
“No. Not for you. But because of you. I saw that there was someone that I had come across that I was attracted to and liked much much more than my fiancee. I couldn't marry her knowing that.”
“But Terry. You're a nice guy but I can't go out with my…” Grace hesitated. She didn't want to refer to him as a punter in front of him and searched her mind for a better word.
“Client?”
“Exactly.”
“I know. Which is why I wish we hadn't. I mean it was incredible but I like you, there is something about you that is so very sexy and enchanting.”
Grace blushed but she did not like the direction this conversation was taking. She had always avoided dating anyone who had been a punter; it caused too many problems but she was being propositioned again; the last guy in Brussels hastened her decision to leave the city when he got too obsessed.
“It's just you are a client,” Grace told him and the waitress emerged to take her order, which brought a temporary halt to their private conversation.
He waited until she left, and then continued. “I know, I thought you would say that. But what can I do to make you want to go on a date with me.”
Grace sighed. “Nothin'. I do like you but we crossed that line so there is no going back. But let's enjoy lunch, eh? You're a nice guy and I'll enjoy your company.”
Terry groaned and put his hands on Grace's. He was not going to give up that easily. He needed to woo her, but he just didn't know how to make himself irresistible; he had never had to before.
Sandy had given Grace plenty of chastisement and advice since that enjoyable lunch, especially as Grace had admitted she was beginning to be quite fond of him and she had laughed repeatedly over the ninety minutes they had together. Sandy could understand but not agree why Grace refused to date this guy but over the week she had migrated onto other things to talk about (the weather, the traffic, the attitude of the Brits and the exorbitant cost of food being the main gripes.)
They pushed open the door to the massage parlour and the receptionist greeted them warmly.
“Oh Grace,” the receptionist said as the teenager passed. “These were dropped off for you fifteen minutes ago by a tall bloke in a suit.”