Escort Addiction

She gasped for air, sweat pouring from her beautifully tanned skin, as she left another set of sweat stains on the stark white, 900 thread count Egyptian cotton sheets custom ordered for her room. This man, possibly her favorite of the ones she’d been on this journey with, unwrapped her ankles from his waist and moved them over his shoulders as he leaned down to place one elbow on each side of her face.

“You ready?” he asked, his eyes dark and serious as he gave her a chance to get out of what they both knew was coming next.

“Yes. Please…please hurry.” she begged as her thighs crushed against her erect and hyper sensitive nipples.

He grinned and nodded as she felt the girth of him pull out of her slowly before ramming back in making her bite her lower lip so hard she drew blood. Then, he pushed off his elbows, bringing her ankles, still locked behind his head, with him so he could put pressure on her clit as he began to ram faster and as deep as he could get.

She closed her eyes and pinched and rubbed her own nipples as she felt herself get closer to the place she needed to be to make it happen: cervical penetration orgasm.

He could feel her muscles begin to shake as the initial wave drew closer. He began to use his fingers to bring her the rest of the way as he rammed her walls, searching for that opening. It was the fastest time so far, he noticed, looking at the bedside clock-less than 1 minute and her calves seized up against his ears as her moaning started.

He dropped back down to his elbows while her convulsions increased and felt the opening against his tip. Her screams rattled his eardrums as he pounded his thick shaft thru the tiny opening, forcing its tight wall to allow deeper penetration in a place few men could ever get to. Remembering their last experiment, he knew that his pullout had to be quick but extremely careful not to pop the head out before tearing thru it again.

“Oh fuck, Jason. FUCK! It hurts…so good!”

Oh fuckHe used the location of his hands to gently pat her hair back from where it was pasted down with sweat on her forehead, even as he rammed her deeper and deeper, the tightness of his balls signaling his own climax on its way. A guttural roar cut thru the room as he pulled out of her cervix just enough to capture only the sensitive head. He pushed thru one final time and felt his primal release as she writhed in sweet agony beneath him. When his quads stopped spasming, he limply pulled himself from inside her and rolled to the side.

“Damn,” he laughed as his head hit the pillow. “I still can’t fucking believe we get paid to do that.”

She looked over at him, her long, chestnut colored hair curled around her cheekbones and smiled. “I know,” she sighed. “I know.”

It had taken 47 days since their arrival to the island for her transformation to happen, but she realized it as she looked at his flaccid member that had brought her to climax three times in as many hours-feeling her mouth begin to water as she imagined ways of bringing it back to life-that she had finally become what they warned her about: completely and clinically addicted to fucking.

She remembered the bumpy flight in to Grenada with only 7 other passengers on board with her. The jungle island was beautiful and the compound was exactly what the recruiters had promised: remote and secure.

After the orientation two weeks before, she had gotten her post-doctoral life sewn up neatly, just as the agency said they would. She walked with head held high on her 6’0 frame, long hair pulled into a messy bun in top of her head to cool her from the island’s humidity and began what she assumed would be the next, extremely short phase of her life.

A phase whose length she was now suddenly unsure she could tolerate.

Escort AddictionIt was $50k/week w/$250k signing bonus for as long as she agreed to stay based at the compound in Grenada. She would be traveling all over the world to meet those who wanted her services as a date, but at the compound it was 4-8 hours of training or an in-house date request by someone who the recruiters allowed to visit. She was found by a headhunter because of her doctorate in psychiatry from Stanford and her clean social media footprint and sexual history. She had never been married, no kids, and only had three previous sexual partners. And being attractive had helped, too.

When she first met the recruiter, she immediately was put off…until the numbers and method of operation in keeping this from everyone she knew by providing her a “second life” while basically taking a break from her first. All tracks covered by the agency. And she would have multiple body guards and never do anything she didn’t feel comfortable doing.

The money would set her up for life doing whatever she wanted, wherever she wanted. The only thing they wanted her to be wary of was the risk of becoming addicted to the lifestyle. Not the money. But the intense sexual lifestyle. They would keep her from getting pregnant with free medication and keep her safe from STDs with all the means they had. As a psychiatrist, she considered the warning but had a pretty firm grip on who she was and what she stood for and what her boundaries were. This would be no problem.

Until approximately 7 weeks in.