A Nasty Handjob

My hands are actually shaking as I finish dialling the number and listen to the dial tone. You can just hang up, my nervous mind whispers. No-one will ever know....

"Hello?" a young woman's voice. Cool, calm, assured.

"Um, yeah. Is that Nicole? I-I saw your advert online? I'd, ah, like to book an appointment for today. If that's ok?" My God, I must sound like a teenage virgin, not someone approaching thirty. My voice is trembling.

"Yeah, sure honey. What sort of time are you thinking of?"

"Erm, as soon as possible, if that's possible?" Dear God, what's come over me?

"Sure, is Eleven ok? I've nothing before then I'm afraid. How long are you after?"

"Eleven's great. Half an hour? It is £50?"

"Yeah," a gentle laugh. "I didn't catch your name..."

"Oh. Shit. Sorry. It's Martin."

Another gentle laugh. "Head to the college Martin and call me when you're there. I'll give you directions where to go. See you at eleven sweetie."

"Uh, yeah, like-wises. Bye."

* * * *

I took a deep breath to calm myself and then knocked on the plain white door. It certainly didn't look like where I'd expect a popular escort to live, just another house in a cul-de-sac, nothing to see here. I waited a few seconds, raised my hand to knock again, and then realised that I could hear the clicking sounds of heels on lino approaching the door. I lowered my hand just as the door opened and a smiling blonde woman greeted me. My first thought was fuck, she probably is actually 22. She didn't look like what I imagined an escort would look like; short, hair tied into plaits, a wide mouth, very little make-up, big blue eyes. She had stiletto heels, baggy jeans and a see-through black vest that gave a great view of her double-d tits: heavy with small nipples and no visible stretch marks. I immediately knew I wanted to cum between them. Thank God I was a client and not the postman...

"Come in," she smiled at me. "I'm guessing you're Martin."

"Uh, yeah. I hope you're Nicole." I smiled back, trying hard not to stare at her tits. She stepped back, allowing me to step inside and leant past me to close the door. Her breasts pressed against me briefly, making my cock stir and my heart jump. She took my hand and led me into her lounge.

"Are you sure you wanna go through with this? If you're not its ok. Some guys do get cold feet."

"Definitely," I replied." Been looking forward to this for days now." I dug my wallet out my pocket and began to count out five £10 notes.

She laughed again. "For days, eh? Why didn't you call sooner?"

"Work. Been really busy, this is my first day off in over a week."

She winced and pouted. "Christ, what do you do?" She took the cash from me, quickly checked it and went through to her kitchen.

"I work in care, looking after adults with learning disabilities." I looked around the room, noticing a pile of coloured plastic bricks, a Transformers toy, an empty baby bottle and a nappy pad, still folded on the TV stand. Baby or a deviant client I wondered.

"Aw, that's good," she returned from the kitchen with a glass of water and took my hand in hers, leading me towards the stairs. Her hand was soft and cool, nails neat and trimmed, just long enough to use for gentle scratching.

"You'll need this later," she indicated the glass. She led me up the stairs and into a bedroom. It was bare except for a double bed with a huge towel laid over it, a small chest of drawers, and two chairs; one metal fold-out and one wooden dining room type. A bottle of hand lotion sat atop the chest of drawers, alongside a condom and a small box of tissues. She turned to face me, studying me for a moment.

"Now... What would you like me to do? Don't worry about sounding weird, I've heard pretty much everything by now."

"Well... I don't actually want to have sex. I'd like a really hard handjob and a titwank." My mouth felt dry and my heart began to race. Worryingly I could feel my cock shrivelling with my nerves. She just laughed and put a hand on my chest.

"That's fine by me. I promise to make this an experience you'll never forget. Now, let's get you undressed." I started to take my bag off my shoulder and reached for the zip on my fleece.

"No no no," she took both my hands. "I'll undress you. Just relax and enjoy this."

I took a deep, shaky breath. "Uh, ok, cool."

She took my bag from my shoulder, stretching up on tip-toes to get it over my head, pressing those beautiful tits against my chest, looking me in the eye as she did so. She placed it on the metal chair and then began to unzip my fleece, moving round behind me to ease it off my shoulders before hanging it on a hook on the door. I felt my face redden as I realised I was wearing my bright red Optimus Prime t-shirt. Please don't comment and say your kid likes him I prayed. She just smiled again and lifted it slowly up over my head, stopping briefly whilst my head was covered to run a hand over my chest and stomach, fluttering fingertips exploring my nipples, belly button and ribs for a moment before breaking contact to hang it over the back of the chair.

She knelt before me and began to work at my belt, unnotching it, slowly loosening it before pulling it free.

"You're a lot younger than most of my clients, and much better looking." I reddened slightly, not sure if it was just standard chatter to put me at ease or not.

"Seriously." She looked me in the eye as she tossed my belt to one side. "How come you're here, if you don't mind me asking?" She began to undo my trousers, unpopping the button and pulling down the zipper agonisingly slowly.

"I work so many hours that I've no time for anything else. On average I have to do over 60 hours a week plus sleeping nights. I just don't have the time to go out and meet people. I pretty much came here from work."

"Ooof, that's shit sweetie. You must be exhausted." She wrinkled her little button nose, and stuck out her lip. "Although I can't complain; it's not often I get a cute client." With a flourish she pulled down my trousers and put her hand on the tent that had begun to erect itself since she began to undress me. I shuddered despite myself. Slowly she began to rub her hand over the bulge as she carefully unlaced my boots and got me to step out of them. I swayed slightly as my jeans were restricting my ankles, making raising my feet tricky.

"Mm mm someone's getting excited," she purred as she continued to work me through my boxers, bringing me to full hardness. I was regretting the tight boxers I'd chosen for the day as they were painfully restrictive on my hard-on, and it was pulling the material in such a way that my balls were being crushed too. She rolled my socks off my feet, placing them in my shoes which she'd slipped under the chair whilst I was preoccupied with her handiwork, and motioned me to step out of my trousers. I did so gratefully. She scooped them up and placed them on top of my bag.

"Now then..." She hooked her index fingers into the waistband of my boxers and slid them down my thighs, dragging my now-erect cock with them. She paused for a moment, so that it pointed straight at the floor and blew gently on the shaft, the suddenly cool air making me shiver and squirm. That motion was all that was needed to free the beast and it leapt free, springing up to slap against my stomach, narrowly avoiding her face. Now to be honest, I'm not the biggest in the trouser department, about five and a half inches long, but I am wide, and when hard my bell-end is huge, and incredibly sensitive, which I find fantastic for blowjobs and handjobs. Makes self-love most enjoyable too, and post-cum head agonisingly intense. She grinned and leant in to run a slippery tongue across my tip, making me gasp. She stood up, peeling off her top as she did so, and reached out to cradle my heavy balls in her hand, picking up the lotion and condom with the other.

"Been saving up?" she asked as she walked to the bed, leading me by my testes. I waddled behind her, savouring the intimate contact as she rolled them gently in her hand and sat on the edge of the bed.

"About a week," I replied shame-faced.

"All the better, nothing like a proper load in my line of work," she laughed again as she hefted them for emphasis. She held up the condom. "With or without?"

"Without," my mouth was starting to go dry. This was going to happen, too late to back out now. After weeks of chickening out, or having to do extra shifts I made it here to see how good she was. And I'd finally get a titwank.

"No-one ever says with," she chuckled. "Now, warn me if you get too close. Don't want this to be over quickly. You can lean on me, but don't pull me hair please, ok?" And with that she took the plunge.

Holy shit.

Now, I've had a fair few blowjobs over the years, but this was something else. Her mouth wasn't as much warm and wet as more like a bucket of molten lube pouring over my cock. It engulfed my length, sliding effortlessly down me, and pausing for a few moments at the bottom. I could feel her slippery tongue exploring my shaft, providing a heavenly pillow for it to rest on. As she cupped my balls in her hand and began to explore them, rolling them around and oh-so gently squeezing them, all I could think was I'm not going to make it to her tits. She slowly slid up my shaft, maintaining a tight seal with her lips, locking eyes with me as she did so. I tried to hold her gaze, but a gentle squeeze of my sac made me gasp and blink, and a smile tugged at the corner of her cock-filled mouth. She began to pick up the pace, bobbing faster and faster, not taking my whole length, porno-style, as she studied my face, watching my reactions as she swabbed my bell-end with her tongue and rolled my testes around. Suddenly her questing tongue hit an especially sensitive spot, causing me to convulse and grab her shoulders for support, giving an involuntary moan of pleasure as I did so. She ran her tongue over the area again, causing me to shudder and grip her shoulders harder as a groan of ecstasy escaped my lips. I was seriously worried that I wasn't going to last long, we'd only been going a minute or so, and I wasn't sure what the protocol for blowing my load in her mouth was. Or worse, I'd cum whilst being transferred from mouth to tits in an unfulfilling finale. Thankfully she must her realised that her oral technique, combined with a week's worth of not wanking was going to be too much for me, and after one last long sloooooow suck which made my toes curl (definitely getting close) she withdrew from her mouth with an audible 'pop' and, still stroking away, pointed to the bed.

"You wanna lie down and make yourself comfy stud?" She gave my tip a squeeze before letting go, allowing to stretch out on the large bed, propping myself up with a couple of pillows so I'd still be able to comfortably see the action whilst lying down. She quickly stepped out of her jeans, and tiny black thong before I could comment, exposing a peachy, if slightly red arse. That last client must have been a spanker then. She gestured for me to spread my legs a bit more and knelt between them, rubbing a generous dollop of lotion into her palms as she did so.

"How'd you like it? Slow and gentle? Hard and fast? Or rough and sore?"

Now, it's not often that someone offers to give me a painful handjob, and like most guys the thought of having my crown jewels hurt does not appeal in the slightest, but then there's morbid fascination to contend with, and I was guessing she wasn't just going to punch me in the balls and laugh. Plus I knew it wouldn't be painful from lack of ability or no lube, but from a deliberate technique

"Rough and sore sounds intriguing, why not?"

She arched a blonde eyebrow and licked her lips suggestively. "As you wish babe, just tell when it's too much."

When, not if.

She wrapped a small slippery hand around my member and gave me a few strokes to get me back to peak hardness, slowly travelling over up whilst almost wringing the life out of it. Then she began to flutter her fingertips over my glans, teasing them, making me shiver as she traced a mesmerising pattern with them. This continued for about a minute until I was harder than I'd been in years and was so entranced I'd practically forgotten what I'd asked for. I was starting to grind my ass into the bed, squirming under her delicate touch when suddenly she switched from rubbing her index finger against the underside of my tip and began dragging her nails over it instead.

"Fuck" I yelped as she did it again, then began tracing those same patterns over my cock head with her nails instead of her fingertips, putting enough pressure on to leave white scratch marks in their wake. I must have been writhing quite a bit because she stopped that, took my balls in one hand and began to squeeze hard, whilst pumping hard with a too tight to be comfortable grip. I took the hint and tried to stop thrashing around, breathing through my nose so heavily I sounded like a raging bull. Every upwards stroke crushed my bell-end, making me gasp and desperately grab the sheets and edge of the bed. This continued for ten agonising minutes of my cock and balls being brutalised, and any pleas for mercy or attempts to squirm free were met with a tightened grip. I noticed her knuckles were white, and my bell-end was throbbing a deep angry red. All the way through she was watching my face, observing every reaction, smiling innocently. I tried to hold eye contact with her, which was almost working until she lowered her head towards my cock and wrapped her lips around my bell-end, gently caressing it with her tongue. It was exquisite, and my eyes began to roll back as I felt my orgasm thundering closer.

"Oh Nicole," I whimpered as my toes began to curl. She was still crushing my balls and choking my cock, but the attention she was lavishing on my bell-end was just too much to take. "I'm not gonna-FUUUUCCCKK!!"

She had been inching down my length, and as soon as it was at the back of her mouth she'd sunk her molars into my bell-end, grinding it between them. It caused two things. Firstly I screamed out and shot bolt-upright grabbing at her head, and secondly it dragged me over the edge, making me collapse again. I realised that I was moments from cumming at best. Thankfully so did she, popping me out her mouth and pulling my shaft between her huge tits where she began to wank me hard, her hand almost a blur.

"Noooo," I gasped. "Use your tits to make me cum, not your hand. Pleeeease."

Comprehension dawned on her face and she wiped one slimy hand over her tits, no time to stop and lube up now before leaning forward and sandwiching me between them, lacing her fingers together to stop me popping free. She began to wank me as fast as she could with them, rubbing them up and down my length. Oddly, in a moment of detached calm before the dam broke I realised I could feel her heartbeat against my cock. It was unlike anything I'd experienced before, nothing like a handjob, blowjob or even a pussy. It was almost like have jelly wrapped around my cock, except that jelly doesn't wank me off and, thankfully, isn't hot.

"I'm gonna cummmmm," I groaned, needlessly, as I felt my balls tighten and my whole body begin to tingle like I'd had an outbreak of pins and needles. I could feel the sweat start to stream off my brow and my legs go so rigid they actually hurt as the spunk left my balls and made its bid for freedom.

"I'm-aaaaaaarrrrrrgghhh." I cried out in ecstasy as I blew my load, four huge spurts shooting from my helpless cock. She never stopped pumping her tits as I came so whilst the first blast splattered her chin and up onto jaw, the next two erupted in her cleavage, glazing her tits so that they looked like snowy mountains. The fourth shot out just as my bell-end cleared her cleavage again, giving her one half of a pearl necklace. Giggling, she put a hand over my tip, releasing me, whilst absorbing a half-hearted fifth spurt into her palm. She took me firmly in hand and wanked me hard for another thirty seconds or so whilst I squirmed and begged for mercy, forcing a last spurt out which splattered her wrist. She leant forward to kiss me and I tried to sit up to meet her lips but I was so drained I flopped back down. She giggled and again and lent further in to plant a quick smacker on my lips before pulling back and pointing towards the glass of water with one dripping hand.

"Drink that, you need it!"