Girl Fever (8 page)

“Now, close your eyes and imagine that it's my fingers touching you there, making you wet.”

I was already doing that, but I wasn't going to break the flow of things, so I just continued to do so while my breathing turned shallow.

“Does that feel good?” Shane asked, her voice deep and inviting.

“Yes,” I whispered, touching myself lightly, waiting for the next command.

“Good girl. Now slip your fingers into your panties and put one finger inside your pussy.”

My clit twitched as soon as those words were spoken, and I quickly obeyed, not wanting to wait another second. I bent my knees slightly and slid my fingers underneath the elastic band and without hesitation slid my index finger inside my very excited pussy. I drew in my breath waiting for that voice to spur me on.

“How does that feel, doll?” Shane purred.

“Really good,” I sighed.

“Mmmm… I bet your pussy is nice and tight. Put another finger in. I want you to stretch your pussy for me.”

With no hesitation I pulled my finger out and replaced it with two. “Ahhhh,” I said, my pussy throbbing and contracting around my fingers.

“I bet you really want to come, don't you?”

“Yes, please,” I said, almost begging.

“I know you do. I want you to. Come for me. Move your fingers in and out of your pussy. Think of me fucking you.”

I was doing exactly that. Shane continued, “Use your
other hand to pinch your nipples; imagine my teeth on them, biting them, sucking them while I fuck you harder and faster.”

Oh, I remembered. I remembered exactly the way Shane's fingers felt inside me, her mouth on me, her voice in my ear as she fucked me, making me crazy, making it impossible not to come. I could hear her breathing turn to panting and I couldn't hold back any longer. I clamped down, trapping my fingers inside my pussy, and let out a scream as Shane's moans took me over the edge.

A few seconds passed. I was barely finished, my pussy still throbbing, when Shane said suddenly, “I have to go.”

Yep, some things never change. “Whatever,” I said with an irritated sigh. “Good-bye, Shane.”

I hung up the phone, tossed it on the bed, then squeezed my legs together until I came again, the memory of Shane's voice still lingering in my ear.

 

 

 

 

 

M
elanie was frantic when I picked up. “You're making us lose clients!”

“How?”

“You're making the wives
come
!” she scolded.

“That's not my fault!”

“I just took a call. Karin's hold-out time is getting shorter by the week. All of the women's hold-out times are.”

“And…?”

I turned onto the client's street and drove slowly so I wouldn't end up sitting outside of the house talking on the phone.

Melanie continued. “So even though you had fifteen to thirty minutes when you first started fucking her, it needs to be about five to seven minutes now. Rick's been
monitoring it. This is an investment for him.”

“So?”

“Ira, this is business! I know you enjoy the pussy, but the
husband
is paying for it.
He's
the one married to a wife who is really a lesbian benefiting from heterosexual privilege, so—”

“You're passing judgment.”

“Look,
he's
the one paying us, so get her hot and wet enough to not mind fucking him and get the hell out of there. Nothing extra!”

“Well, what do you think I do, paint her toenails afterward?”

“No, but you
do
get into it.”

“I'm pulling up to the house.”

“Ira!”

“How about you get off the phone and get us a merchant account so we can take credit cards instead of cash? We should already be paid before I come out to the homes.”

“I'm working on that.”

I turned off the car and looked into the rearview mirror, wondering how many households needed our services but didn't know a business like ours existed.

Mel started in again. “Ira, don't ruin this. We have a foolproof business. A profitable niche: we help men who are married to lesbians get their wives hot enough to fuck them, so they can have sex every week. This is a no-brainer, but we lose clients if you make her come and he ends up not getting any.”

“Got it,” I said, pulling down the visor to apply my pink lip gloss in the mirror. I ran my fingers through my black hair and popped a stick of Big Red into my mouth.

“I gave him a guarantee,” Melanie said.

“What kind of guarantee?”

“That if Karin comes, which means he won't get any pussy, he doesn't have to pay.”

“What the hell?”
I couldn't believe that shit. “I enjoy my work, but I don't do this for free! I do this for the money! And as
partners
, you should never make an agreement without me, especially one that concerns me!
I'm
the one out here fucking while
you
sit in the air-conditioned office!”

“You poor thing,” she sneered. “He was gonna cancel today. What could I do? I could only draw on my business knowledge.”

“What business knowledge?” I scoffed. A couple of courses to get her associate degree and now she was an expert.

“About how Domino's turned their business around and changed the industry with their ‘thirty minutes or it's free' policy,” Melanie said.

“What does that have to do with…?” I took a deep breath and said, “Bye, Melanie.”

So I wouldn't be paid upfront. I'd aim to work on Karin for six minutes, since Melanie had said she could only hold out for five to seven minutes before she came.

I spit out my gum, checked my reflection on the side of the car and approached the house. Karin came to
the door dressed in an oversized men's shirt and worn khakis, probably getting ready to work in the garden. Her curly brown hair was unruly, but I liked it.

When Rick came to the door as well, Karin turned to him and asked, “Again?”

Her tone held surprise, and for a moment, I wasn't sure how she felt, but she broke into a smile and pulled me in, slamming the door behind me.

I fumbled to get my cell phone out as she groped me. I had to tell her to wait while I set the timer for six minutes, but I didn't tell her why.

I held the phone so I could keep up with the countdown.

I pushed Karin against the wall and unbuttoned her shirt. She fondled my tits as we kissed. She moaned when my lips met her neck and earlobe. She lifted my skirt and slipped her fingers into my Lycra thong. I sighed in pleasure when I felt her middle finger inside me and her thumb rubbing my clit.

Rick stood nearby stroking his hard-on through his jeans. It didn't bother me since company policy says he can't say anything, touch his wife or me, or pull out his dick while I'm there.

Karin pulled my tank top down and sucked my tits hard. I unbuttoned her pants and grabbed her ass, pulling her close to me. My fingers played in her hairy bush until I placed two of them inside her warm, wet hole.

She was soaked so I probably should've stopped there, but I didn't.

Karin and I got stark naked. I pulled her into the kitchen and onto the floor, because it was her favorite place to fuck.

I rode her pussy as she caressed me, kneaded my nipples and kissed my tits.

I tried to ignore Rick squeezing his lump and watching his watch, because I loved tribbing, and the sensation of Karin's tongue on my nipples as we ground our pussies together was spectacular. However, my job was to please her, so I laid her down and slowly sucked her full breasts while I played between her legs.

“Eat me,” Karin begged, spreading her thighs wider. I took in the scent of her hot twat and teased her clit with the tip of my tongue before licking her pussy lips.

“Yes, lick me, baby!” she shouted. She whimpered when I grazed her engorged clit with my tongue. I hadn't even had a chance to really suck her pussy and tongue-fuck her the way I wanted to when…

She shouted
, “I'm coming! I'm coming so hard and so good!”

Rick scowled and shook his head.

I rushed out to get my clothes.

Karin got up and went down the hall, shouting for
me not to leave, while Rick followed me back into the other room.

I felt his eyes on my back, as I dressed, and when I faced him, he pointed to his lump as if it was my fault then left the room in a huff.

“Ira, I wanted to give you a tip,” Karin said, pressing a check into my hand. It was for a thousand dollars—far more than Rick had ever paid.

Not knowing what to say, I kissed her and said, “Thanks,” before letting myself out.

In the car, I called Melanie and told her it was time for a new niche: helping lesbian women who are married to men come quickly—in six minutes or it's free.

We would offer our current (male) clients the guarantee, but make the wives come faster than that so that
they'll
be the ones calling and paying us big money.

“You're a genius!” Melanie shouted. “We'll make business history! Six minutes or it's free!”

 

 

 

 

 

I
f you really want to find the perfect woman,” Carole tells me, “you only have to ask, and the universe will send her to you.”

She believes in all this cosmic nonsense: crystal healing, feng shui, the works.

Needless to say, I don't. The safest thing, I've learned from experience, is to humor her. “So what do I ask for?”

“Whatever you desire the most. Whatever will make you happiest.”

So I reel off a checklist. “Okay… Long, dark hair, big tits, likes to take control in bed. Oh, and she's got to have a decent job. No more flaky actresses who are always broke.”

Carole smiles. “That's it, Jasmine. It's out there. All you have to do now is wait for the universe to deliver.”

Despite her assurances that this will absolutely, definitely happen, I don't give it another thought. Mostly because when I get back to the flat, it's to discover the boiler has broken down. Now, I can cope without lots of things, but hot water isn't one of them, so I'm straight on the phone to my landlord. Ray's a diamond. If there's a problem, he gets it fixed, and he says he'll find a plumber for me as soon as possible.

An hour later, there's a knock at the door and I open it. Standing there isn't the middle-aged, salt-of-the-earth bloke I'd expected, but a plumber whose brown hair is tied in a loose ponytail at the nape of her neck, and whose breasts push out the front of her baggy blue overalls.

Sometimes it's good to have your expectations confounded. This is one of those times.

“I'm here about the boiler.” Her voice has a cigarette husk, low and appealing.

“Great. Come in.” I lead her through to the kitchen, show her what I think might be causing the problem.

She gives her head a
leave it to the expert
shake and reaches for her wrench. I go back to the room that doubles as my office, but it's hard to concentrate on preparing a sales presentation when visions of her full lips and fuller breasts present a delicious distraction.

When she knocks on the office door, I almost jump out of my skin. Does she know I've been staring into space the whole time she's been working, thinking about her undoing those overalls to reveal she has nothing on underneath?

Flushing guiltily, I follow her out so she can talk me through the repair. She might as well be speaking Mandarin for all I understand of what she's done, but as long as I'll be able to take a hot shower later, I'll be happy. If only I could persuade her to join me!

But that's just fantasy—or so I think till I realize how close together we're standing, pressed between the kitchen wall and the temperamental old refrigerator. Her nipples are poking at the fabric of her overalls, and I wonder whether she really is bare beneath them.

She smells of oil and fresh sweat, but it's an intoxicating fragrance, the aroma of blue-collar babe. Breathing it in, I'm aware my panties are growing damp.

“Thank you so much,” I say. “If you'd like to give the bill to my landlord, Ray, he deals with that side of things.”

“And who deals with you?” she asks.

It's such a loaded question. I want to reply, “You, please, ma'am,” but she doesn't give me the opportunity. Grasping both my wrists in one strong hand, she pushes me up against the wall.

Her lips mash against mine, tasting faintly of strawberry gloss, the only girly thing about her. This is so unlikely, such a porno cliché, to be seduced by the plumber, but it's real, it's happening, and I'm making no objections.

This will have to be quick; she's still on the clock. Calloused fingers pop open the button front of my dress. I want to respond, to free her of the unflattering overalls,
but her grip is steady. She's in control, and I can't deny that's the way I like it.

She pushes a hand into my panties and smiles at the wetness there. All I can do is whimper as she explores my secret places, fingers roaming over cunt and asshole, before settling into a steady rubbing rhythm on my clit.