An Escort in Seoul | Chapter three

Transcript

CHAPTER 3 BEHAVE My eyes only stayed on him as I began to strip, taking off every piece of clothing down to my briefs while he watched and judged. With a finger, he commanded me to remove my briefs and I obliged. I stood stark naked in front of him and he ran his eyes all over my body, pleased with it, lusting over it, fighting to tame how impressed he was with the perfection I was.

So this is what $4,000 an hour gets me. His chin tilted towards me. Do you know how long I had to wait to book you? Approximately three months and nine days.

I shook my head, still playing into his innocent boy fantasy, still wearing the mask. It gave me the time I needed to study him. It was growing intense too quickly.

Some clients preferred to get into the thick of things without much talk, but it wasn't out of irritation or ego. They were just horny. But as Bumsock stared back into my eyes in the dimness of his boutique hotel room, I could see it.

Rage. Not necessarily for me, but I knew it would be mine to take. Question that now rested on my mind was whether I was willing to take it, if I wanted to take it, if I was horny enough to be manhandled the way I knew he was about to manhandle me.

Angry sex could be extremely passionate when done right, but Bumsock didn't look like a man who cared about doing it right. Three months. Three long months.

He breathed. What kind of a whore needs a minimum booking advance of three months? His face hardened.

I- Don't answer that. He rose from the sofa, taking slow strides towards me as he undid his belt. Show me instead.

His hard cock flopped out of his trousers. All of it. Your throat.

Now. I got down on my knees in obedience and he reached for it, gripping it lightly before sharing one long stare with him. He liked me there, on my knees below his cock, small and vulnerable.

I began nibbling only at the tip, pretending it was too difficult to take. He didn't need me to take all of it. He needed to make me take all of it, and I was prepared to give him that fantasy.

One part of it became thrilling for me. The lingering danger. The impending doom.

At some point it was going to explode. I wasn't sure if I was going to hate it. I wanted to dance along the edge and find out.

Impatient, he gripped my poorly conditioned kinky hair and shoved it all down my throat. I gagged, sucking fast as saliva dropped down the sides of my lips. And that wasn't enough.

He held my head in place and began fucking my mouth, hard and fast, till my eyes watered. I held on, breathing steadily as he groaned, battling his urge to moan. He pulled out just in time, holding back his orgasm.

Fuck. He groaned. You must think I'm too easy, don't you? I shook my head.

I want more of you, I whispered, pouting. Stop doing that. What? Getting in my head, he barked, picking me off the floor and throwing me over the glass table.

I'll decide when I come. He spread my legs. I'll decide if you'd be an innocent boy or a fucking slut.

His dick pressed against my hole. I paid for you. I'll decide.

I leaned back. Stop. He slammed me against the table.

Shut the fuck up. I sighed. I hated moments like those.

Moments when I had to combat a client, but that was half the fun sometimes. Just a second before he was fully inside me, I slammed the back of my head against his face and he winced with a loud cry. Before I could regain my stand, he had me by the throat, choking me from behind as he tried to force his way into me.

One leg on the table and I pushed back, driving us both to the ground. His hold on my neck was locked in, my airways were completely shut. Two hard elbow punches to the ribs and he groaned, freeing my neck.

This time I was speedy with my recovery, spinning around and climbing over him. Two slaps later and I began to squeeze his throat, holding his gaze as he gasped for air, wriggling under me. It was not often I needed to defend myself in such situations, it had only ever happened once with a client.

As I stared into Pomsuk's eyes, life slowly flickering away, I was reminded of how easy it was to snap the life out of a man's lungs, how peaceful, how exhilarating. The only other feeling that triumphed over an orgasm. I had never done it, I'd only ever fantasized about it, multiple times, in several beautiful ways.

Murder. Pomsuk had just given me my moment, maybe I wanted him to take it that far just so I could experience it once again. The feeling of strangling a man and hearing him gasp for air, watching his eyes sink and become faded, or maybe the alcohol had messed with my mind, or the lust, or all of the above.

I freed his neck, drawing a deep breath as he began to cough profusely. His skin red and sweaty, I watched him recover with regret and an immense craving I was battling to quench, sitting comfortably on his lap as he coughed and breathed. Now I began when his eyes found mine.

You could still fuck me if you want, but only if you behave. I smiled coyly, batting my eyelashes.