Breanne

On my way out of the building to meet a client at the sorority house, I run into Makayla coming out of Dave’s room. She has that blissful just-been-fucked look on her face, and I smile in pleasure. “Andrew!” she says happily. “It’s so good to see you!” She gives me a fierce hug, and stretches up to add a kiss on the cheek. “Life is wonderful, I’m the happiest I’ve ever been, and it’s all thanks to you.”

“From the look on your face when you walked into the hall, I can tell Dave’s taking good care of you,” I say with a (somewhat) evil grin.

Makayla blushes furiously, then smiles. “Yeah,” she says softly, gratitude filling her voice. “And I’m taking good care of him, too,” she adds proudly.

“I’m really glad to hear that,” I tell her. Since we’re both going out the same way, we start walking together.

“My parents were . . . non-plussed when I brought home a boyfriend; I think they really wanted and expected me to stay single all through college. Why I don’t know.” Makayla touches my hand. “If it weren’t for you, I might have. But they hit it off with him really well, and now they’re happy about it. I think they’ve decided we’re going to get married. I’d be annoyed at them, except I’ve decided the same thing,” she says with a grin.

I grin back at her. “When were you planning to tell Dave this?”

“Oh, I’m not planning on telling him at all. I’ll just help him figure it out for himself, in due time.” Makayla pauses, then says softly, “Thank you. Thank you for everything.”

“You’re absolutely welcome,” I reply. “It really was my pleasure to be able to help you.”

“That means the world to me,” Makayla says sincerely. She stops for a moment and gives me another hug, then we walk in silence for a few moments. “On another note, are you on your way to meet with a client?”

“Yes.”

“May I ask who she is?” Makayla asks

She clearly has a specific reason for asking, so I say, “Ordinarily, I would say no, but for you, sure. Her name is Breanne Evans. She doesn’t have a boyfriend, so she’s hiring me to give her more sexual variety until she finds one.”

Makayla looks a little disappointed. “I know her, but . . . Well, I’ve been encouraging a friend to see you. She’s Japanese, her name’s Emma Tanaka. She has some of the same issues I had. Has she contacted you?”

“No, she hasn’t,” I have to admit.

“Well,” Makayla says with a sigh, “I’ll keep working on her.” She flashes me a brilliant grin and says, “Have fun!” With a jaunty wave, she goes her own way.

I arrive at the sorority house a few minutes early; my client arrives a few minutes late. Something about the way Breanne carries herself when she shows up suggests she did so on purpose. She’s one of those women with everything in place who looks like she wakes up poised. She’s not as tall as her friend Jenna, but she’s taller than the average woman; interestingly, though in most respects she has a classic hourglass figure, she has very small tits. Her face is square and elegant, with deep green eyes, curly auburn hair that falls just past her shoulders, and warm peach skin. Her legs are long and slim; from what I see of her coming up the walk, her ass looks full and nicely curved.

Breanne returns my greeting cordially enough, but without the sort of erotic enthusiasm I usually see. She hands me the cash and referral card right away. I lead her down to the bedroom and close the door behind us. When I turn, I see a slight flush of arousal on her cheeks. She’s taking off her blouse; her clothing looks fairly nice, so I don’t argue with her. Soon the skirt is off as well, leaving only a fragile scrap of lace mesh for panties. That, she leaves on.

I kiss Breanne, but she doesn’t really get into it. When I stroke her sides and kiss my way down her jawline to her neck, though, she starts breathing faster. I kiss and lick along the junction between her neck and her shoulder, and she actually moans softly. I trail kisses along her collar bone to the other side, and get a similar response. My hands roam her back and sides until they reach the ripe curves of her ass cheeks; she rubs her ass against my hands and purrs.

I trail kisses down from Breanne’s shoulder to her tiny tits; though they’re small and have no areolae, their pale russet nipples are quite large and pointed—and quite sensitive, as I quickly discover. I tease one gently with the tip of my tongue, and she arches her back and moans. I take it between my lips and lightly kiss it, and she grabs my head with both hands and holds it to her breast. I hook my thumbs in the waistband of her panties, starting above her ass cheeks, and pull them down; she helps me by shimmying her hips.

I kiss and lick the one nipple for a while, then switch over to the other one. I fondle and squeeze her ass with one hand, laying the other along her slit. Her pussy fur is soft and neatly trimmed. Breanne grinds her pubic mound against my hand with great delight, then moans as I slip a finger into her twat. She’s quite wet, which surprises me. She moans when I find and stroke the edges of her pussy lips, then again when I start lightly suckling her nipple.

Just as I’m thinking to move her to the bed, Breanne asks, “Would you lie down on the bed, please? I want to sit on your face.” I lie down, and she straddles me.

I look up to see a smallish, shallow pussy, hot pink in color, with small, slender inner lips and a small clit hiding under its hood. She looks like a fragile, delicate flower. She smells like a flower, too—sweet and subtle and fresh. “You have a beautiful pussy,” I tell her.

“Thank you,” Breanne says, and lowers herself onto my face. She rests a fair bit of her weight on me, which isn’t particularly kind of her. Alyssa did as well, but she’s tiny, and her legs aren’t long enough to do otherwise; Breanne just wants it that way. She starts bucking and sliding her hips, twat-fucking my face. I raise my hands to tease her nipples; for the rest, I concentrate on licking and sucking everything I can reach. When I catch her clit with my lips and tongue, she holds position for a while, grinding in circles, then goes back to rubbing her slit along my face. I enjoy the taste of her juices, but it isn’t long before my face starts to hurt.

Fortunately for me, Breanne isn’t really all that dependent on my artistry or endurance; she seems to like being in control, and she’s making sure that I’m licking and sucking her where she wants to be licked. Her breathing gets faster and faster, and her moans more and more erratic, until finally she lets out a high, soft cry and pushes her little button into my mouth. I suck it as deep and hard as I can, and she cums hard. She writhes and thrashes above me in ecstatic ****, pressing herself hard into my mouth. She squirts hard; her juices flow down my cheeks and chin, collecting in my ears and soaking the neck of my shirt.

When Breanne’s orgasm fades, she gets off me and uses the wet wipes I keep in the room to clean herself up. She dresses matter-of-factly, then says, “Thank you, Andrew. I’ll call you later to schedule another session. I appreciate it.” On that note, she’s out the door. Well, I reflect, I’ve enjoyed all the rest of my clients so far. I suppose there are bound to be some who I don’t enjoy. The money’s still worth it.