Read Tease Online

Authors: Missy Johnson

Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #Erotica, #Bdsm, #Romantic Erotica

Tease (3 page)

Chapter Three

My phone buzzed, waking me up. Not a morning person,
I yawned, my hand fumbling around on the night table for my work phone, even though I could see light streaming through the curtains already.
It was after eleven—which was still way too early. I read the text message from Brittany, my client for that evening.

Hi Coop, looking forward to tonight. Just confirming 6:30pm. Brittany xx

I knew nothing of her, except that she got my details off another client, Amalie. That in
itself
should’ve made me nervous, especially knowing what Amalie was into—but we’ll get to that later.

Yawning again, I stretched my naked body between the soft cotton sheets. I didn’t want to get up; my bed was so cozy and warm. Besides, getting up would mean my sleep was over, and I wasn’t ready to commit to that yet.

My five-minute snooze turned into a two-hour nap. Cursing, I pushed back the covers and stood up. I made my way down to the living room and collapsed on the sofa, not yet fully awake.

Most of the afternoon was spent lazing around the apartment. This was my only time to relax, and I intended to make the most of it. Almost three in the afternoon and I was still lying on the sofa wearing only my boxers and watching TV.

I wasn’t a naturally tidy person, and glancing around the place, it showed. Thank god I didn’t bring customers home with me; one look at the dump and they’d run. The apartment was huge, but the amount of junk I had lying around the place made it look tiny and cluttered. Not even the modern classy furniture I’d spent thousands on could save it.

Getting my ass off the sofa, I made my way down the hall to the bathroom and ran the shower. Stepping out of my boxers, I kicked them aside then stepped under the warm water. I soaped my body and then rinsed, not bothering to wash my hair.

I reached for the towel and began to dry myself. I stared at my reflection in the full-length mirror. There was a reason I was so good at what I did, and it had much to do with what was below the belt. Let’s just say I’d been blessed with the equipment to make women squirm—in a good way, that is.

At a guess, I’d say eight inches. Ten when erect.

Women who say size isn’t important are usually lying—if it wasn’t important, they wouldn’t be seeing me on the side or investing in industrial sized dildos.

But it wasn’t just about that; I was young, attractive, and I made every woman I was with feel special. My dark hair and brown eyes drove women crazy, as did my lopsided grin. Flexing my muscles, I looked over my body. I took care of my body to ensure it was in the best shape it could be, so that I was in the best condition to please every one of my clients. That meant keeping myself fit, toned, and
well-groomed
…everywhere.

If you’re thinking I sound like a cocky asshole, then you’re wrong. Isn’t that what they’re paying me for? So they feel like they’re the center of my world? I don’t go to bars to pick up random women and spin lies about how “special” they are just to get in their pants. I’m providing a service, and being charming is all a part of that.

The funny thing was, Coop “The Escort” couldn’t be more different from the real me. When I was at work, I was a completely malleable person. I became the person my client wanted me to be, whether that was a cocky bastard, aggressive, or just a regular loving guy. Whatever they wanted, right? I mean
,
that’s why I was getting paid.

The definition of my life - my existence - is a simple one.

It's not that I'm the tease, not unless you were paying me to be one. The tease in my lifestyle was never quite being able to get where I wanted to be, or what I wanted for myself. I wasn't the tease. But my potential was.

I’d do anything for the right price. Nothing was off the table. Well, that wasn’t entirely true; even I had limits. There were things I wouldn’t do
; I
wouldn’t touch anything illegal or involving bodily fluids, and obvious signs of sexually transmitted diseases or illness were a no-go. I couldn’t afford to lose clients for not fulfilling their needs, but it was even more important for me to ensure my own safety and the safety of my other clients. That was where having a semi-regular client base was a good thing: I wasn’t sleeping with thousands of women, but even so, it only took one mistake to ruin your life.

The real me?
Well that’s someone not many people got to meet. The real Coop was generous, funny—and modest too—and would do anything for his friends and family. I hated feeling vulnerable, which is why it was easier to create an alter ego who was all the things I wasn’t. Letting people in was hard for me, and I wasn’t just talking about love. Even friendship I found difficult. It was much easier for me to relate to girls than to guys.
Maybe something to do with being raised in an all female family?
Who
knows.

I arrived at The Benson Hotel shortly after six, taking in its imposing exterior. Bellhops stood outside as people in suits made use of the valet parking, dropping their BMWs and Mercedes off at the door.

Nearly all of my appointments were in some of the most luxurious hotel chains in the country. Hotels were even ground, and more importantly, inconspicuous. I was less likely to be discovered in a place like this than I was outside a client’s house—especially those who were married.

I strolled through the foyer confidently, heading for the elevator. I’d been in so many posh hotels by now that nobody blinked an eye.
I knew just how to blend in. To act confident, stride forward, shoulders back, head high.
To look like I belonged.

I stepped out of the elevator on the twentieth floor and headed to Room 2001.

I took a breath and knocked. Yes, even I got nervous, especially with new clients. It was the unknown—that brief moment where even I had no idea what to expect. And I couldn’t show that. I had to be confident. Showing emotion was a big no-no.

“It’s unlocked,” a female voice called out. Okay then. I pushed the door and walked in, closing it securely behind me.

There wasn’t much I
hadn’t
been asked to do, but seeing her draped over the bed, and him standing beside her, I had a feeling I was about to experience a first. Dusk was beginning to settle over the city, the magnificent view capturing my attention for all of a second. Then it was back to them.

“Hi,” I said, moving toward the bed. She stood up and smiled at me.

“Hello. Coop, I presume?” she asked. I nodded, shaking her outstretched hand. “I’m Brittany Lewis. This is my husband, Ben.” She placed her hand on Ben’s shoulder. He nodded at me as I tried to read his expression.
Nothing
. My heart began to pound as I realized I had no idea what I was getting myself into.

Was he here to watch? Or participate?

I couldn’t remember the last time I’d felt so nervous about what a client wanted. The thrill of not knowing, combined with the endless possibilities racing through my head, was fucking mind-blowing. I’d had plenty of three-ways before, but never involving another man.

The devil’s three-way.

The thought of it sent shivers down my spine. I glanced over at Ben. They were a striking couple, both tall, dark haired and attractive. Brittany had
an innocence
about her that was incredibly intoxicating, and the idea of her riding my cock while her husband watched made me harden instantly.

“Nice to meet you both,” I said smoothly, walking over to sit in one of the armchairs next to the wood fire. Brittany followed closely behind me. I sat down opposite Ben as Brittany sat on his knee. His arm wrapped around her back, slipping under her shirt, his gaze directly on me.

“Trust me,” Ben muttered, smirking. “The pleasure is all ours.” He turned Brittany, his lips working their way down her neck.

My eyes slowly moved over her body. The hem of her flowing black skirt stopped mid-thigh, showcasing long willowy legs. Her hair was caught up in a messy bun with loose strands escaping everywhere. She held her ice blue eyes on mine, her lips twitching into a small smile. My erection pressed against the fabric of my pants. She glanced down, her smile widening, as if she’d just uncovered a secret.

“So, what were you after this evening?” I said smoothly, smirking at her. I stood up, taking her hand. I pulled her toward me, running my fingernails down the side of her face. She breathed in deeply, her grip tightening on my hand as her eyelids fluttered shut. She combed her fingers through my hair, pulling my body up against hers. Her lips crushed against mine, the sweet taste of her mouth clouding my senses. I was vaguely aware that her husband had slipped in behind her. His hand brushed against my erection as he slipped inside of her panties.

My body jolted in shock against the feel of his touch. As accidental as it was, it had ignited something inside of me. This was fucking unbelievably arousing. I pulled away from Brittany, watching closely as Ben slipped her dress down over her hips, leaving her between us in only a tiny black lace thong. I reached out, tracing the outside of her nipple, flicking at it softly as it hardened.

I undid my pants, letting them fall to the ground. I kicked them aside, along with my boxer shorts. My cock swelled at the sight of this sexy beauty in front of me as I eased out of my gray button-up shirt. Her hands curled around my girth like she was handling a golf club. She squeezed firmly, making me gasp.

“I want you on the bed,” she said, kissing me. I nodded and walked over to the king-sized bed behind us. She climbed on top of me. She unclasped her hair, sending it cascading around her shoulders and her breasts. God, this woman was hot. This whole situation was incredible.

She pushed me onto the bed, hoisting herself over me until she was straddling my chest. My hands rested on her thighs as she leaned down and kissed me again, her tongue teasing me. Ben kneeled on the side of the bed—suddenly very naked—behind her. Using his hand, he forced her head around until she faced him, and kissed her roughly.

This felt so surreal. An incredibly sexy woman was straddling me, wearing nothing but a tiny thong while her naked husband made out with her. My fingers continued to explore her flesh, now focusing on the soft skin at the very top of her inner thigh. She jumped as my fingers trailed along the outside of her pussy, over the damp lacy strip of fabric that was her underwear. She moaned as I threatened to enter her.

“God yes,” she mumbled.

Ben disappeared behind her as I slowly moved a finger inside of her. Suddenly I felt the unmistakable sensation of a mouth wrapping around my cock. My back arched as his tongue wound its way around my length, sucking me slowly, and deliberately.

Fuck. Holy shit.

There were no words that could appropriately explain what I was feeling. I’d never fantasized about receiving head from another man, and never in a million years would I have thought I’d enjoy it, but this whole experience was fucking amazing.

A mouth was a mouth, and when the owner knew how to work it, what hope did my dick have?

I squeezed my arms under Brittany’s thighs and moved her up to my face. She cried out, grabbing at my hair as my tongue ran along the inside of her lips. My legs clenched as Ben began to suck me faster, his mouth moving rapidly up and down my shaft. I plunged my tongue inside of
her,
my grip on her legs tensing as my whole body began to throb, screaming for release.

“God, Coop. Harder,” cried Brittany, riding the movements of my tongue.

I felt her juices trickle down my neck as I nibbled on her clit. I gasped, jamming my tongue deeper inside her tight pussy as my back lifted violently off the bed. I could feel his hands on my ass as I pushed myself further into his mouth. Brittany jerked forward, crying out, but I could barely hear her. I was lost in my own release as I sprayed abruptly into his mouth. The feeling was euphoric as he sucked the remaining juices off my cock. I gently flicked my tongue as Brittany whimpered softly, her pussy so swollen and sensitive that my touch was too much for her.

Then she was off me, flipped over onto the bed. I lay there, unable to move as Ben fucked his wife in front of me. His thrusts were fast and full of frustration, the need to come intense. Forcing myself onto my side, I kissed her neck, my fingers running over her breasts as his thrusts got slower and further in between.

God I loved my job.

“Do you think you could go again?”

I turned to Brittany, a smile on my face. Again? I sure as hell wanted to give it a go. Ben smirked at me, his eyebrows raised.

“Are you feeling adventurous?” he asked lightly.

Adventurous? Wasn’t that what I’d just been? I nodded, trying to ignore the twinge of anxiety pulling in my stomach. With no idea what he had in mind, I felt like I was walking in the dark, with no idea where I was headed and no idea whether a truck was going to come out of nowhere and flatten me. I watched as he stood up and approached me.

“Can I kiss you?” he asked, standing in front of me.

I nodded, my voice not working. Another first. I had never kissed a guy before. I looked down and saw that Brittany had positioned herself between us, her hands curled around each of our cocks. I breathed in as she took me in her mouth, gently sucking on the tip of my cock.

Ben reached out his arm, his fingers brushing over my cheek before settling around my neck. He slowly moved me closer to him, until our lips met. His kiss was rough, not soft like Brittany’s, but there was something sexy about the way his tongue circled around mine while his wife took my length in her mouth.

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