Lucky
Part Two: Money for nothing…?

I met Leighton the following Tuesday at his apartment. I wasn’t surprised to see all the furniture and appliances gone. All that remained were the few essentials he might need for a day or two.

“I’m going to Europa,” Leighton said. He was wearing a bath towel around his waist, and his hair was still damp from a shower.

“I figured as much,” I said. “You’re still on my schedule, so…”

“Oh, I wasn’t gonna cancel. And I’ll pay off the rest of my contract – I know we still have six months left.”

I smiled. I didn’t have to remind him of our CPA – Certified Prostitute Agreement. As a Certified Prostitute, I had the right to have my clients sign contracts that were legally binding on 17 planets and their satellites, natural or manmade. I priced one nighters on a case by case basis, but some of my clients had regular appointments for one month, six months, or, in Leighton’s case, a year – at a rate of 1000 credits per session. Luckily for me, he was my last one year client. I could use his time slot to book some of the other offers that had come in after my unscheduled media screen appearance.

“I was looking forward to one last blow before I go,” Leighton said.

Leighton dropped his towel, revealing his fat cock hanging from its root of red pubes.

Not one to waste someone else’s time or money, I went to my knees and went to work.

I nuzzled his hairy balls with my nose, and then slowly sucked the head of his cock between my lips. It throbbed happily in reaction, swelling when I held it gently between my teeth and poked it with my tongue. Spitting it out, I licked the underside of his stiffening dick, balls to head; soon it was a solid, veined pipe pulsing against my cheek.

He grabbed my head and pointed that pipe at my mouth. Keeping my head still, he pushed his cock past my resisting lips, slowly inching in until the throbbing tip was nestled in my throat. Just as slowly, he pulled out, resting his juicy piss slit on my bottom lip for a second before he went back in again. In and out, over and over again, at an unhurried pace, he enjoyed every slow stroke, and every stroke started on my lips and ended in my throat. I felt every vein and ridge of his cock on my lips and the tip of my tongue, like blind fingers following the raised pattern of a carving.

I felt a drop of precum on my lips. He pressed in again, at the same maddeningly slow pace, dripping up the length of my tongue, into my throat and all the way back again. After a few minutes I had slick, salty precum spilling down my chin, blending with my spit, soaking the hair on his balls more and more each time he eased his cock back in.

Using my middle finger, I swiped at the slickness, reached for his asshole, and rubbed slowly. I felt his cock shudder in my mouth, and the perfume of soap gave way to the stimulating scent of sex again. He held my head in place, and kept rocking his hips in that slow, hypnotic motion. He was breathing heavier, and used his left hand to hold my head steady, tight