The (fat And) Happy Hooer

Chapter Three

I gently disentangled myself from Marta and lifted myself onto an elbow, smiling at Jacob across her.

"Satisfied?" I asked.

His grin was all the "yes" I needed.

I was mildly surprised when he squirmed off of the bed and padded over to the side where I lay.

"Let me please you," he said softly.

I grinned, rolled onto my back, and said, "sure."

Jacob had been a client for quite a while and he knew what I liked. And under my tutelage, he had gotten good at it. I parted my legs as he kissed each of my feet. Brushing the tops of my toes with his lips, his tongue flicked out and touched each one separately. He kissed the soles of my feet, my instep, my ankles, and then started working his way up. He knew my special spots and used his tongue on that place inside of my knee, just above the joint, that sent little electric charges up my spine. He nipped at the softness of my inner thighs, making me twitch. Then, he gently parted my labia with his fingertips, lifted my clitoral hood with his thumbs, and bent to kiss where I was hard and sensitive.

I relaxed and let him do the work, allowing myself to simply enjoy what was happening. As the pressure deep in my belly grew it became a struggle to hold still. He was careful and gentle, his lips covering my clitoris like a nipple and sucking, gently, his tongue flicking the tip as I felt myself swelling, the pressure in my belly turning into a little ache right where he was latched on.

He knew how to make it last and when my body started tensing he eased his pressure, taking me to the edge and holding me there.

The fact that I'm a professional doesn't mean I don't enjoy my work, or that I'm callused or jaundiced about it. I was thoroughly captivated with what he was doing, my eyes closed, still trying to hold still as he took me past the point where I normally would have cum. He was good and had me right on the edge, holding me there. I could feel my nose starting to run in concert with what was happening between my legs and I made no attempt to wipe it. I was lost in the sensations. My eyes closed and I was concentrating on nothing but what was happening between my legs.

I yelled and came suddenly, very liquidly when Marta kissed me.

I had been so focused that I forgot she was there and she startled me.

She giggled and kissed me again while he kept me cumming.

When I was spent, panting, struggling to catch my breath, she whispered, "I love you," and I damn near came again.

He crawled up, to lay beside me and kissed me too.

And I wallowed in the attention, both of them kissing me, both of them caressing me.

I know, I know, it wasn't a very professional performance, but dammit, sometimes you just do what comes naturally.

I gasped when each of them latched onto one of my breasts and began nursing.

I stroked the hair on both heads as they suckled and drew a sharp breath as their hands met over my belly and they traced down, finding where I was slick.

They suckled as they masturbated me and I decided I could get used to this.

"All right kids," I said when they had brought me to orgasm a half dozen more times, "I give up."

"I love you," Marta said and kissed me.

"I love you," Jacob said and kissed me.

"And I love you both," I said, grunting as I sat up quickly, "but I think that's enough lesson for one day."

I giggled as I squirmed free when they tried to catch me.

I was a gymnast until my ass got too big to bring around on a roundoff/back handspring combination and still try to stay flexible and nimble.

When Jacob started to roll out of bed after me I held up my hand in the universal "stop" gesture. "Enough," I said and then added, "for tonight anyway." He laid back down looking, I was glad to see, a little hurt.

"Marta," I said, grinning as I pulled on the skirt and blouse, enough to keep me from being arrested, and stuffed the underwear into my purse, "tomorrow I'm going to pick you up at 10 a.m. sharp. We're going shopping and spa-ing. Be sure to bring your credit card." I waved as I slipped out of the door.

On the way home, my apartment is on Capitol Hill in Denver, the top floor of a three-story Silver Baron's mansion that had been converted in the 1960s, I couldn't stop thinking about this amazing night. For all that I had been a professional for almost a decade, since discovering my true calling my second year in college, this had still been a first for me. Not that I hadn't done multiples before, but the whole "couple's therapy" thing was a whole new area.

I decided I liked it.

Back home I followed my normal routine. I walked up the stairs, there was an outside elevator that had been installed at some point in the 1990s to achieve compliance with the Americans with Disabilities Act, but I liked to use the stairs. I'm a big girl, okay, I'm what they call an SSBBW (super sized big beautiful woman) in the porn chat rooms. I need to exercise regularly or I would soon become immobile.

So that night, coming home early for me since I normally spend the night, I was a bit out of sorts. I started the water running in my tub, the drain open to let it get as hot as the old house's plumbing would allow. Then it was into my bedroom where I stripped and tossed my clothes into the hamper. I stopped, as I always do, at the floor-length mirror on one wall.

Okay, I'm vain, but I think justifiably so. As one of those big girls with a relatively thin face, I had given up dieting as my senior year in high school came to an end while I was sitting home on Prom Night, crying, watching reruns of I Love Lucy. It wasn't that I was a "gainer," one of those women who deliberately overeat. But I was definitely a big girl.

But dammit I'm pretty. My face, looking back at me had good even features. A straight nose over a small mouth. My teeth, when I smiled, were white, the result of careful care and bleaching. My skin was flawless, again the result of careful care and my regular visits to a dermatologist. My hair was black, well, naturally a dark brown but the black was more striking I thought, and my weekly visit to Race, my personal hairdresser who was so completely gay you expected him to burst into flame at any time made sure no roots or any trace of grey showed.

I let my eyes travel down and wondered, for an instant, when I had decided I was beautiful even at my size. My breasts, full with large areolas and small nipples, sagged from their own weight, not from lactation and nursing. That's what happens when gravity works on boobs that fit into a 52GG bra. The rolls of my belly started high, my breasts laying on the first roll. A second and third roll, each progressively bigger, offered what one client had delicately called a fat girl's natural modesty, what he called a belly apron. I lifted it, heavy, soft, and warm, and let it fall with an audible slap as it hit my thighs.

I was still keyed up after my unique date and knew I'd need some release before I could get to sleep. So I went to my special drawer to see what caught my fancy. Over the years I've accumulated a serious collection of toys, some for clients and some for my own use. I looked through them, touching, to see what caught my fancy.

There were vibrators, of course, in a variety of shapes and sizes, battery and plugin. But I passed over them thinking I'd like something a bit more exotic tonight. I touched nipple and labia and clitoral clamps but, again, thought, "too mundane for tonight."

"Ahhhhhhhhh," I said aloud, although very softly, "tonight I think I'll suffer."

I pulled the TENS machine from the drawer along with my special leads. The Transcutaneous Electrical Nerve Stimulation machine is the same one used by physical therapists. If you've ever been hooked to one, feeling the little electrical shocks making your muscles twitch you know what I mean. It can be a wonderful way to bring gentle stimulation or terrible agony. I thought tonight I'd shoot for suffering to satisfaction.

I was already getting excited, I felt my nipples tightening, as I gathered my toys and headed for bed.

I laid back and parted my legs, carefully, gently, working the long silver probe into my cervix, feeling the pressure as the small bulb stretched the small entryway to my uterus, and then the light, cold touch, as I pushed it in all the way until it touched the hard wall. The second probe slightly bigger than the first with a bigger bulb on the end, about the size of a douche syringe, went in anally, again until I felt it hit the hard muscular wall.

I locked the nipple clamps, one on each nipple, carefully tightening them until I felt the first hint of pain. My fingers were trembling slightly as I carefully inserted the shiny tips of the wires into the receptacles on the unit. I was careful to set the timer for only 10 minutes and then the intensity knob to six, the upper limit of my tolerance.

I laid back and put the thick, fluffy pillow over my face.

I took a deep breath.

I pushed the button to start the unit, tossed it to the foot of the bed where I couldn't reach it, and screamed into the pillow.

I was on fire.

My guts were burning up, my pussy was exploding, my tits were blowing up.

And I was cumming. Over and over as I screamed my pleasure and my pain.

The probe in my uterus was blasting waves of pure agony through the muscular wall of my uterus into my clitoris.

The probes on my breasts were ripping my nipples off.

I was screaming and cumming and crying and screaming some more.

I couldn't stop. Hell, I couldn't have stopped if I'd wanted to. My body was twitching uncontrollably.

My orgasms were blinding in their intensity, bolts of white blasting through the blackness of the pain.

It lasted a significant fraction of eternity and then it was over, leaving me crying, sobbing really, hurting, limp, exhausted.

I slept well that night.