Mr Tongue

Slamming his office door in frustr
ation, Matthew stared at the
pile of unpaid bills on
the
desk. His struggling
law practice seemed to be
slowly failing because
a couple clients with
large accounts had gone
bankrupt.
The revenue from their
assets
that had been sold at auction
had not been enough to cover their debts much less legal fees
.

“
I didn't spend years in Law school to end up filing bankruptcy
too
," he mumbled.

Trying to think of
a way to make some extra money,
he remembered what one of his
friends had
suggested to him. "W
hy don't you become a gigolo?"

Laughing it off at the time, he now wondered if the idea had potential. His dreams of being a highly successful attorney were slowly slipping down the drain. Feeling desperate enough to try anything at th
at point,
even breaking the law,
he took a deep breath and said,

"So
me times you just have to say
w
hat the fuck
and
do it anyway
.
"

Grabbing his briefcase, he headed home with the hopes of having a stress free evening.
Kicking off his shoes the instant he stepped into his house, he stripped as he walked
to the bedroom
to go take a shower. Sliding under the steaming hot spray of water,
he moaned
as the heat soothed his aching shoulders. The tension gradually faded as he relaxed.

As he lathered his entire body with soap, he
thought
about going out for a night on the town
as a gigolo
, wondering
if he
could
find a
ny wome
n that would be willing to pay him for sex.
Being in his late
thirty's, w
omen didn't chase after him like they did
during his
college
years
.

Debating between calling
his
,
girlfriend
,
Carrie
, or being picked
up by strange women in bars, h
is cock twitched at the idea of sticking it into a
stranger’s
hot pussy.
He
quickly finished up his shower
in the
hopes of getting laid by a horny
drunken woman at the bar
.

After
shaving, he
splashed on some cologne
and dressed
casual
ly in tig
ht jeans and a
black t-
shirt
, not wanting
to
dress
too
flashy.
Jumping in his
SUV
, he cruised to the bar, getting there just in time to snag a good spot at the
far end of the
bar where he could check out every woman coming through the door.

Ordering a shot of whiskey
, Matthew checked out the
few women there
,
wondering if any of them might be
in need of a gigolo but t
hey all
seemed to be with
other
men
already
.
Sighing in frustration, he
tried to
focus on the TV
.
He hated
television, rarely watching
it
, preferring to
work
rather
than rot his brain by watching
mind numbing
shows.

Ready
to give up and go home
,
after half an hour
he stood to leave, stopping in his tracks
when he saw a woman enter the b
ar
. Her long auburn hair swung seductively in rhythm with her hips, as she walked to the
bar and
ordered a drink
.
Matthew’s eyes slow
ly
slid down her form
,
admiring her tight
fuchsia
sweater
stretching over her breasts.

Staring
at
her firm mounds
like a hungry lion,
he licked his lips,
having
had a
breast
fetish
since he hit puberty
. Kissing, sucking
, fondling
and fucking them
were
all
among
his favorite past times. He couldn't get enough. The more tits he saw, the more he craved them.

T
his particular woman
appeared to have very large nipples. They were pushing against the
straining
fabric of her s
weater
when she turned to sit on a bar stool
. She
glanc
ed over at Matthew, catching him staring at her chest
, giving him a knowing smile
. He didn't bother looking
away
;
to horny to care that she had
caught him checking her out.

Flashing
a
confident smile, as she slid off the stool and moved to one nex
t to him, he said, “Hi there
.”

Leaning close to his ear, she whispered
, "What's a nice guy like you, d
oing in a place like this?" Almost choking
on his
drink, unable to
believe a woman
had used such
an old pick-up line like that on him
, he coughed and cleared his throat
. H
e could see that she wore
expensive clothes and jewelry. Her perfume smelled exquisite. She reeked o
f style and money.

He thought,
i
t's now or never
, takin
g a deep breath to keep
from chickening out.

When he finally spoke,
in a low voice,
he said, "I am
here
looking for women who might be interested in hiring me for some
…uh…
companionship."

Her
eyes
twinkled and
widened
,
"Oh, really? Does that
mean
women will pay you to spend time talking to them here in the bar?"

"Not exactly. They would
…uh… pay me for any
services
they might require
a man to fulfill." Matthew said, emphasizing his words with a lustful glance at her breasts.

A look of realization spread across
her face. "Uhhmmm...is that l
ike a gigolo?" she said hesitantly
with one eyebrow cocked
.

"Yes," h
e answered, hoping she wouldn’t freak out
.

Half e
xpect
ing
her to tell him off and leave at that point
, he held his breath waiting for her angry words
but
instead
she continued to sit there. She seemed to be thinking
as
t
he silence
between them stretched on to the point of being awkward. He wished he had kept his mouth shut about being a gigolo.

The
n she suddenly turned on her stool, facing him and crossing
her
long slender
legs. Her short
black
skirt
slowly inched up her thighs
as she tapped her right foot against his stool while staring at him. Forcing himself to watch her eyes instead of her breasts, he followed her gaze as she studied his mouth and then
dropped her eyes to evaluate his body.

“Stand up,” she said.

“Why?”

“Show me what you’ve got to offer. I want to see your butt,” she giggled, taking a swig of her drink and signaling the bartender for another one.

As he drained his drink
and ordered another,
h
e wondered
why she would need the services of a gigolo with her looks, body and
obvious
class. Unable to resist an opportunity that might lead to
sex;
he did as she
asked
standing and turning his backside toward her.

“Very nice,” she said reaching over and giving his ass a squeeze.

His mouth fell open when she
asked
, "How much would you charge me for one night of your services?"

He just gawked. She had caught him off guard. He didn't know what to say
because he never thought he’d find a willing woman that would pay
. She took his silence for
mistrust,

"I'm not a cop, if that's what you
’
r
e worried about,
"
sticking
out her hand
,
"My name is
Sasha
"

Shaking
her hand
, he responded, "I'm Matt
."

She tipped her head back, and laughed. "Are you sure you're a gigolo? That doesn't sound like a name one would use."

He snickered and said, "I am kind of new at this. I didn't think about getting a nickname.
Maybe I need a porn star name
like
Long Dong Silver
.
"

Sasha
laughed as she
looked him up and down,
and then
said
, "How about calling your
self Mr. Tongue
?"

When Matthew finally quit laughing, he said, "Why would I want to call myself that?"

Leaning
close to him,
looking him straight in the eye
,
in a sultry voice, she whispered,
"Most women are in dire need of a man who knows how to use his tongue and isn't afraid to use it. I could get
you
a lot of customers. I am willing to pay for your services tonight. All you have to do is bring me to orgasm one time and I will pay you for a whole nights work. I know lots of women,
whose husbands don't satisfy them
, if you
’
r
e
interested."

He thoug
ht about
it for
half a second
as hi
s twitching cock
told him the answer. "Sou
nds like a deal to me."

They spent the next
ten
minutes haggling over the price
while they finished their drinks, settling on her paying
him $250
if she orgasmed, $1
25
if not.
. Matthew thought he had misheard her when she named the amount she
agreed to pay.

If I could make that kind of money every night, and have sex with several different women, I would be o
ut of debt in less than a year
, he thought
.

Sasha decided she wanted to get a hotel room, leading the way in her
BMW. During the drive, Matthew's stomach
rumbled
nervous
ly, knowing he had to perform well to get paid the big bucks
.
Somehow he managed to stay calm pulling
up to the curb behind her car at the hotel
, handing
the valet his keys and
pocketing the receipt
. He sat in the lobby while
she
checked in, casually stepping
on
the elevator
after her
.