Sexxxy Sharon
By: William, Dollar Bill
Tags: Culture, Escorts, Sex Work, Lifestyle, Memoir

Sexxxy Sharon

A true story of falling in lust

photo by author

Wanna know why the Feds came after me so hard? Because they knew that stories like the following were actually true! And they wanted me to pay for all that fun! In truth, my job was 95% work and frustration and only 5% fun. But the Feds didn’t know that. Sitting in their offices slaving away while I was having a party and making much more than they were didn’t work for them! Busting my ass did!

It was like a dream cum true when Alexis, one of my most loyal clients called with a deal I simply couldn’t refuse.

“Billy! I have a girl who wants an internet ad. Come! And I want you to do a session with Sharon ’cause I need a free Press ad. Please…please…do this for me. You know you want Sharon,” she insinuated, playing on the testosterone that at this point only occasionally rages through my body.

What Alexis didn’t know was I’d been fantasizing about making love to Sharon almost from the day I arrived at “Sexy Bodywork” (one of the nastiest whore houses in all of NYC) to take her pictures a couple of years ago.

While the place and its owner were horrible, Sharon shone as one of the brightest stars on the New York incall beat. Blessed with hypnotic hazel eyes, creamy cafe au lait skin tones and a gorgeous, brown and very round Dominican booty, she was definitely the girl to turn a gay man straight or make a dead man cum.

Several times since that day, I’d run into Sharon at a garden variety of houses, always to be reminded of her infinite blessings. Just for example, I was hanging at Peaches ’n’ Cream one day in the girls’ lounge when Sharon rose from the couch and leaned over a table to pick up a magazine.

The room stopped and all eyes were on Sharon’s butt. “Damn! Look at the ass on Sharon,” a fresh Amer/Asian hoochie mama mused in total jealousy. “Billy! I wanna have a butt like Sharon’s. Do you know any doctors who do butt implants?”

Anyway…back to the point! When the opportunity to essentially get laid free (factoring in the commission from the internet sale virtually equaling my cost for The Press ad) with someone I’d been thinking about for a long time availed itself, the answer was clearly in the affirmative.

When I arrived at the hotel, Alexis, Nadya (Sharon’s sister) and Sharon were sitting on the beds and all looking very beautiful.

“Billy! I wanna watch,” were the first words out of Nadya’s mouth when I entered. “I wanna see Billy naked,” she continued.

Now I know that with this particular madam, the girls watch each other fuck the clients because it’s a hassle to go hang out in the lobby downstairs when one of the girls is working. But that’s not the only reason. If they ain’t fuckin’, they can at least be watching! These girls are horny like that!

As disappointed as I knew Nadya would be (yeah right), I declined the offer to put on a show. First, I’m not really that kind of guy. And second, as I’ve said, I’d been waiting for an opportune moment to make love to Sharon, and I didn’t need an audience to facilitate the blessed union. (And as it turned out, Nadya got to see me naked anyway.)

OK! So I got the other girls out of the room. And by the time I’d returned from ushering them out the door, Sharon already had that unmistakable predatory working girl game face on that so many pros exhibit when they’re about to turn a trick out.

We began with a sort of standing, gyrating lap dance during which Sharon backed her sumptuous butt against my loins, initiating a soft grind as I kissed her shoulders and stroked her hair. My fiance purred her approval as if to say “finally…a trick who knows how to handle a woman.” Quickly, the Governor began to expand and within a minute or two was aching to bust out of my trousers. And Sharon could feel it.

“Billy! Get comfortable,” she requested. Excellent! It almost looked like I wasn’t the only one who wanted to get busy. Once we wore nothing but our birthday suits, I lay Sharon down on the bed and began massaging her breasts and stomach and neck as she gently stroked and stretched my hovering hard-on, squeezing the shaft to make the head even more bulbously delicious.

It was a very sensuous and erotic show…mostly because of how beautiful Sharon is. Beauty and the Beast notwithstanding, she dressed me in latex very quickly and began sucking me softly and gently with the tender loving care of a woman in love (even if she wasn’t).

Not being the kind of guy who loves a “covered” blow job, I pronounced “I’m ready” to signify my ultimate desire to be inside Sharon’s seething folds.

First, a generous handful of KY which my heartthrob administered to my cock by gripping me with just the perfect amount of pressure. My manhood swelled with pride waiting to fill Sharon’s loveliness. After rubbing my helmet around her phat pussy for a few seconds to steel herself for the entry, the diva slid me in with a sigh and began that heavenly pumping action we dogs all live for. And it was a top ten lifetime moment, stroking Sharon’s velvety insides as I kissed her neck and forehead.

“Spank me…I’m your white boy slave,” I baited her to get rough and really fuck me good. That was all she needed to hear. Our bodies rammed against each other as with each downstroke, Sharon whacked my ass to bring us even closer physically and spiritually. A smile of empowerment lit Sharon’s face as she watched her slave pounding in and out of her raging, soaking womanhood.

By the time we’d worked our way around to doggie-style and female superior (on top), the phone rang. “It must be Alexis,” she said matter-of-factly. Still engaged, she picked up the phone and told her boss in Spanish that we were fucking as they talked. That phone call is the rough equivalent of a knock and I knew it was time to unload before Alexis barged into the room and demanded that I cum then or not at all.

It was no problem for me. I was already bone-tired from being ravaged by a way-out-of-my-league erotic monster and pounded her for all I was worth until I exploded gobs of Billy goo inside her. And as with all working girls (I love this part) when I withdrew, her fingers made their way down to the end of the rubber to digitally inspect how much fluid lay in the receptacle.

“Ooh, Billy. You came a lot,” she moaned exuding heat at the realization that her hot sensuality had ravaged a man and made him cum gallons. After collecting ourselves, the love twins adjourned to the shower for some watery afterplay involving lots of soap and hugs.

Clearly, Sharon and I had interfaced successfully both physically, emotionally, and however else we possibly could have. Before our session, we were friends. After…we became lovers, friends and soul mates — for about a minute.

I think we had one or two more sessions after that. And then the luster wore off and it was onward and upward. Like buses, there’s always a new woman coming around the bend. At least there was back then. Not so much now, though!