Dreams of Depp

Photo by Zach DischnerEmma grunted and lowered herself onto the erection with a big smile.

It was a big erection.  Likely too big as this was one that a girl could only keep portions of hard at anyone time.  Besides, were it all hard and at its full length, that girl would likely hurt herself being impaled upon it.

In her memory, she had never been on top of such a large cock.  Red hair fell forward and covered her breasts as Emma placed her hands on his chest and leaned forward for balance.  The hair swayed almost down to her belly button as she began to grind on top of this brute.

He was a brute.  His hands each had one of her hips and his fingers almost touched on her back.  When he was standing, he had to duck under door frames that were built for average men.

This particular brute…and he was by no means the first brute, nor the last, she would fuck…was managing on site for construction of a high-rise going up in the downtown core.  He had called the agency and requested the sexiest redhead that they had.  Being “sexiest” is very much a moving target on perception, there were usually a few questions before they would always send Emma.

Emma was quite unique in that she was not doing this out of desperation.  This was something to do while she completed her doctorate in religious studies.  She had published two books, not best-sellers, but well on her way to a tidy little writing career as her third was well on the way to being completed.  Norm, the agency owner, had first met Emma back during the writing of her second book (“What the Hell Does God Have to Do With It?” published by Marcus-Freethought Press in 2009…a follow up to her 2007 book with MFP, “God and Bible, I Have Your Vicious Circle Right Here”).

At the time, Norm was a bouncer at Booty & the Bear, a strip club that was in the basement of an old office building on West Harrison Street.  He was an ex-football player that never actually made an NFL team, although he had been to a few camps.  He had once been offered a contract by the Edmonton Eskimos of the CFL…but he never accepted as it just seemed too damned cold to him.  Chicago was cold enough.  So, instead, Norm had taken the bouncer job where he met a cute, sharp as a whip redheaded stripper named Emma.

Emma knew instantly that young Norm fell very much in love with her.  She never took advantage, however…at least not playing with his emotions.  She did, however, lean on his crush when she would slip him cash in the hope he would leave her alone in the private dance areas.  He had accidentally caught her, once or twice, with a john’s cock in her mouth or pussy but he kept his mouth shut.

One evening, after all had closed up, he sat with Emma and discussed his business ideas.

“I could run an escort service,” he said and sipped his long neck bottle.

“You’re an idiot,” she said with a laugh and sipped her own.

“I’d like you to be part of it.”

Green eyes met his as she thought about what he had just said.  “You really are an idiot.”

“Why do you strip?”

“Because I love sex.  Pretty simple, really.”

“But you could have that without stripping.  Why do you strip?”

This time, she had no quick answer.  “I guess I never really wanted the word ‘hooker’ to appear on my business card.” Her fingers quoted in the air and almost dropped her bottle.

He laughed.  “You already are an escort, you’re just denying it.  That said, no one is calling you a hooker on my watch.”

“You’re an idiot,” she said with a laugh.

“Do we have an accord?”

A sigh was followed by an offer of her hand to shake.  Though she was already sold, the fact he used words that Johnny once said pushed her well over the edge.  “You’re my idiot.”

It did not help that Norm’s appearance often reminded her of Johnny…more from his portrayal of Don Juan de Marco than that of Captain Jack Sparrow…but Johnny, nonetheless.  There were times that she felt she would give up this life if he only got up the guts to actually ask her.

Thus was the beginning of a new escort agency called Emma & the Idiot.  Were not many escort agencies that professed to have a sense of humour, but somehow this fact alone helped keep them flying under the Chicago PD radar.  Even their website offered pictures of their partners usually in some candid form that tried to exploit their natural sexuality instead of the normal forced shots of the other agency’s “girls” and “boys” in scantily dressed poses.

Emma’s own pictures on the site were from behind with her in a black trench coat pretending to flash a guy, whose feet could be seen beneath her coat.  The fact that the guy was actually Norm and she did flash him was never quite brought up.

So here Emma was, riding this brute, under the stars on what was going to be the tenth storey of this future condo.  This was a first time in that she had ever screwed on a construction site.  She had been to hotels, condos, houses, offices and even some perverted priest on a church altar once…but never before on a construction site.

She smiled, feeling him hardening further inside her.  “Oh yeah, that’s the spot.”  Closing her eyes, she imagined Johnny…though her mind did occasionally wander to Norm.

It was not easy work.  Coming to random hotels, residences, and the occasional office for sex with someone she had not met could be awkward…especially if she did not find them attractive.  There were some guys she would leave before even money was exchanged, but that was usually out of fear for her safety.  There were other guys that she had wished she had felt that ahead of time and had some historical unwelcome bruises due to missing the signs.  Then there were the guys that simply were not attractive…but this was about money, not attraction, so Emma would close her eyes and just imagine she was riding Johnny or, if the john was older Harrison Ford in his Han Solo costume.

The brute grunted and smacked her ass with a quick swipe.

Emma squealed with surprise and enjoyment.  She had not expected the strength he got without leverage and swing…but she did enjoy a good spank.

The high-rise was two towers with, on the tenth floor, a link between them where many common areas would be…such as the future pool which had a deck that the couple currently fucked upon.

There was some thrill here.  Emma liked thrills.  She usually needed something with an extra zing to get her going and ideas like this certainly worked.  Something about the thrill of potentially getting caught…although in this case that seemed very unlikely, but one never knew if there might be security personnel wandering about.

She had arrived as the sun was setting to the sounds of the brute’s ghetto-blaster playing old Wang Chung tunes that she found vaguely familiar…but ended up dancing to nonetheless.  She was impressed by his knowledge of etiquette when finding her cash in a plain white envelope on the small table.  Then her dancing began which quickly turned into a lap dance for him.  Before long it evolved into her kneeling on the padded blanket he had provided and pulling his pants open.

The sun was down before that cock was finally inside of her.  From her experience, the only part of this evening he could not have gotten at a strip club was the cowgirl fuck and the privacy…a bit ironic considering the public location he had chosen.

The cock inside of her tensed and she felt the condom expand as it was filled with cum.

Slowing her hump, she slumped slightly, still balanced from above with her arms on his chest.  “Thank you, honey.”

The brute smiled.  He responded in a deep breathy voice, “No, thank you.  Can I ask to see you again?”

She nodded.  For just a moment she allowed eye contact…it was difficult with his two missing front teeth, but she succeeded with the thought that he might play hockey for the Blackhawks.

Later, that evening as she brought her own orgasm to existence, she imagined that it had been one of those gorgeous hockey players she had fucked.  It was not much of a stretch of her imagination as she had actually fucked a few of the players before…and she, no doubt, would get the chance again.  Thanks to previous tricks she had three signed Blackhawk jerseys framed on her condo walls.

She quickly dismounted in perfect form, dressed, and took the construction elevator to the ground.  Walking out of the gate into the darkness of night, she began the walk home.  Truly, this had been a convenient john for her as her condo was only two blocks away.  The expectation was that she would be home and in bed watching a movie by ten.

This being the last Saturday of summer, there were many people out on the streets as they went to and from clubs.  It added to the safe feeling with so many around…

…until she saw him as he left a club across the street.  Her blood went cold as the fear enveloped her.

It could not be him, could it?  Clarence was supposed to be dead…drug addictions or drink addictions or…she knew it was not his real name, but it was still the only name she knew him by.

Luckily, he did not see her.  He snapped his collar upright and his sunglasses suggested he was watching nothing more than pavement as he walked the opposite way.

Her heels clicked quicker and two words entered her mind…making her blood colder yet:

“Infinite Monkey”

Tonight she had ridden her biggest cock ever…but Clarence…Clarence Casper…was the most frightening dick she had ever had the pleasure to have been with.  Between him and his Infinite Monkey…she blamed him for everything.

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