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Transfixed [raizu kagurai & Somikat]

As it turned out, the condom hadn't really lessened the clean-up which would have to be done after all. Francesca's semen stained the sheets in splatters, but she had a couple of spares in her wardrobe, and a washing machine in her kitchen for precisely these occurrences. Panting, the beautiful woman remained on all fours beneath her client, inclined forward to rest her head upon a forearm, amidst a sea of hair. She remained for another minute as they both caught their breath, allowing Michael to enjoy the warm embrace of her ass around his member. When at last their bodies parted and she rolled onto her back, she smiled up at him.

"Mmm, was that good for you too? There's a bin... for the condom," she said, pointing, her breasts heaving as she sought to return her breathing to some degree of normality. In the afterglow of their coital union, her cheeks had a little more colour, and the air in the room bore the sweet scent of sex and sweat.
 
Michael hugged her tightly, unable to move from the pleasure of his orgasm, her ass clutching tightly to him. He watched as she moved dwn to rest her head, the man taking in short rough breaths as he tried to regain control of himself but to no real avail just yet. But when the two of them parted, he laid beside her, panting more and more as his chest rose as quickly as it fell. He tok off the condom and tossed into the bin she pointed to, planting a soft kiss on her cheek, smiling"It was really good baby.."He answered with a wide smile, slowly closing his eyes as he snuggled into her side
 
Ah, he was a snuggler. Francesca hadn't quite pinned as such, though she was not altogether surprised. In general, her clientèle fit into three loose categories: those who liked to cuddle post-coitus, those who liked to leave post-coitus, and those who neither sought affection or fled in suppressed shame, but treated sex as just another form of recreation. Of course, not all of the snugglers were desperate for affection, and not all who left briskly were ashamed, but the grouping had formed somewhat cynically in her mind nonetheless. Any cynicism within her failed to ripple the surface of her calm exterior, and she smiled warmly and relaxed in his embrace. "Mmm, yes it was..."

Over the course of the next couple of hours, she treated him to refreshments and idle conversation, and he in turn treated her to another vigorous fucking during which she failed to climax, and one more for good measure, with Francesca flat on her back and his stiff cock buried in her tight ass. That one left her stomach smeared with her own semen as she masturbated to the rhythm of his thrusts. She bid him farewell a little after 1.30, planting a kiss upon his cheek and closing the door, returning to clean up before her next client arrived. She had a couple of missed calls on her phone too, which left her feeling positive; it seemed she was becoming more popular nowadays, and—given how pleased Michael had seemed when he left—that was not without good reason.
 
Before he knew it 1:30 crept up on them, the man having enjoyed his time with her, letting off a third load when they had one last vigorous fucking. Though when she failed to climax after a while he simply began to slam into her ass to relieve himself. When he unloaded inside her she had already covered herself in her seed. Feeling satisfied and his lusts sated, Michael slowly pulled out of her, throwing the condom in the bin with the other, kissing her lips with a smile, his cock slowly going limp.

"When will we be able to do this again?"He asked, licking his lips with an eager grin."Would love to see what YOU can do next.." Michael hugged her gently for a moment before he pulled away, slipping his form into his boxers and jeans, his phone listed with 2 calls, one from his wife and another from his son. Paying it no mind, he slipped into his shirt and gave her a smile before he left. He definitely had to play with her again sometime.
 
Across town, Sophie Menter was worried. She'd called her husband and gotten no reply, which would have been no cause for alarm had he been at work or gotten back to her promptly. Today was his day off, though, and she'd since rang their son, only to find that he too had been unable to contact Michael. This was not like him. She tried not to worry—she assured herself that he was just busy or had left the house and forgotten his phone—but it was difficult. Though their relationship had grown quite routine over the years, and the pair had little of a love-life to speak of, she still loved the man she'd married almost two decades ago.

Just after 1.30—mid-way through her lunch break and around the same time as her husband was leaving Francesca D'Alessandro's apartment—she tried again. Come on, Michael, pick up...
 
When his phone rang again, Michael looked at his phone, a sudden ping of regret taking him when he realized she was really trying to get a hold of him. Once inside his car, he answered the phone and calmed his breath, fighting through the guilt and confusion that ran through his head. While he did love his wife and the life they have, their lack of a love life as of late has begun to get to him, hence his recent experience with Francesca. Slipping his ring on his finger once more, Michael spoke"Yes Sophie?" He answered, wondering what she needed.

while on the phone with her, he started driving home to take his place back on his seat."Is there something you need Sophie? I was just out getting something to eat but I forgot my phone in the car.."
 
"Oh. Well, Margaret Simmons died. She had a heart attack this morning." Margaret was a neighbour of theirs, and elderly woman who had watched over their son when he was young, and someone who Sophie had made sure to call in on every so often. She gave Michael the details of what had happened, when they expected the funeral to be, and assured him that she was ok, but it was clear that they would have to attend the funeral when it occurred. She seemed to take him at his word without a second thought, though it had been just after 12 when she first called. She told him she'd be home for dinner, asked him if there was anything he'd like in particular, and the two said goodbye.

The rest of her work day was tedious—she had few calls to take at the clothing wholesalers where she worked as a receptionist, but it seemed that all of her least favourite and most talkative of clients chose that afternoon to come by, and the only positive she could draw from it was that she at least did not have to spend much time thinking of Margaret. She had assured Michael that she was fine—and she was—but it was still a shock and a sadness to know that the woman had passed on. At least—she thought—she had gone peacefully, and her death hadn't been a long and protracted affair like that of her father, two years past.

It was just after 6pm when she got home, pulling into the driveway in her red Toyota Prius and lugging a few groceries into the kitchen.
 
Mike sighed a bit, shaking his head as she told him the details about Magaret's passing, a sympathetic look curing his face on the ride home. While he never really talked to her much, he was happy to have her around to babysit Jack when they weren't able to. She was a close family friend and made life easier back when him and Sophie wanted to go out on a date. so hearing about her passing made him feel a bit sad and upset. Though he wouldn't show it, he told Sophie he would have dinner made by the time she got home whatever he decided to make. He stopped at the store on his way home and grabbed a few things.

Most of his day from there on consisted of him just relaxing on the couch while waiting for the preparation for their dinner to finish. When it was about 4, Michael started cooking their meal, smiling a bit now that he had been sexually sated, his attitude a bit more pleasing than it had been lately. by the time Sophie got home, Mike was setting the table, steak marinaded in teriyaki, baked potatoes and fries laid on on the table."Dinner is ready.."He told Sophie when he heard her walk in, finding himself a seat.

by the time Michael got home, Jack was in his room playing his games as usual, wanting to enjoy some alone time before he had to eat and go to bed for work the next day. While he didn't have a good paying job, his job at McDonald's was a job nonetheless. So it brought in some money for him to spend however he wanted. When dinner was called, he slithered away from his game and into his usual seat beside his mother.
 
"Oh, thank god. I'm starved," she replied, setting the bags down on the counter. "How was your day?"

Sophie Menter had been pretty when she'd married Michael, possessed of a wide face, dazzling blue eyes, and a mass of luxuriant dark hair, whose natural curls were something which other women spent a small fortune to attain. The drawn-out demise of her late father had aged her though, and at 40 years of age she already looked a few years older than she really was. Crow's feet had crept into the corner of her eyes, she'd grown thin—she'd been positively gaunt for months either side of the man's passing—her eyes had lost the lively sparkle which had so enraptured Michael in their youth, and her curls were now prone to frizzing all too easily. It took her an age in the morning to get it to do what she wanted.

She took her place at the table once she'd packed the groceries away, telling her husband how good the meal looked and asking Jack how his day was before she tucked in to eat. Caught up as her mind was with the death of Mrs. Simmons, she gave no further thought to her husband's earlier absence, and with his wedding ring snugly back on his finger she was none the wiser to his liaison with the scintillating Italian escort.
 
He gave a smile as Sophie praised the food, glad to see even his cooking could impress her tastes. But as he looked upon her he could really notice the pain in her eyes over the passing of their neighbor, their friend. She was closer to Mrs. Simmons than he was ad he could tell it bothered her. So rather than say anything about it he continued eating, putting the thought into the back of his head. While she was still a beautiful woman, Mike couldn't help but see that her once sexy, alluring attributes had since faded over the past few years as she aged. He was still an energetic man who needed attention in some fashion and with her lack of interest, whether due to time or just boredom, he didn't seem to think she wanted him in that way.

"My day was ok, nothig really important happened, just went out for lunch and met with a friend is all."He assured her, smiling as his lie was as close to the truth as it would get. Jack said nothing much other then tell his mother how his boring day at work went, which consisted of the same thing. Dealing with irate customers and having to do duties that weren't a part of his job.
 
"Anyone I know?" Sophie asked innocently, trying to keep her mind off of Margaret. She knew many of Michael's friends from years past, but certainly not all of them—in the past few years in particular work had kept her busy enough that her husband was often free to do as he pleased, and were it not for the passing of her friend she would have been blissfully ignorant of what he had gotten up to today. As it was, she was merely ignorant.
 
Mike shook his head with a smile, taking a bit of his steak and swallowing before he spoke up."No just an old friend. wanted to see how I was doing after so long while he was in town."He told, giving her a bit of a smile before diving into his food for another bite. He could see her ignorance clearly, given any other time she didn't care about who he talked to, always too busy worrying about everything else. Her work and social life seemed to come before family more often than not, leaving him and Jack to fend for themselves from time to time when Sophie paid them no mind whatsoever. Se was definitely a workaholic and didn't seem to notice it.
 
Dinner passed with much interest—at length the conversation swung back to Margaret Simmons, and Sophie expressed pity towards the old woman's family. It was a far cry from the excitement of Mike's afternoon, and—truth be told—his social life was quickly forgotten about. His wife did not mean to be distant at times, but their marriage had—after all these years—become routine, and it was at work where things surprised her, where she had to be alert to changes, and thus where much of her attentiveness was spent.

Much of their family life in the coming days revolved around the upcoming funeral, and come Friday morning they would all be decked out in black—though Michael would still have to arrange time off work to be able to attend—and no doubt a large portion of their day would be devoted to conversing with neighbours and those of the extended Simmons family whom they were acquainted with. Sophie cleared everything with her boss the day before the funeral, having already mentioned Margaret's passing to him on the day she had died.
 
Even if it was routine, Mike had grown agitated that Sophie seemed to lack any interest in anything at home, as if she didn't want to be there as much as she used to. And while her husband wasn't too picky, it became a problem when she talked to hm less and didn't enjoy much time with him unless something happened at home or around the neighborhood. And he simply had enough of it all.

As the funeral came around, Michael had already emailed Francesca again, hoping to meet with her sometime Saturday morning. And his email read as follows:

Hello Francesca

It's Michael I'm emailing you to request another fun time with you. I was hoping we could meet sometime Saturday evening for a couple hours(money will be paid up front like last time). But this time I have a few requests for you. Since last time we only got myself off most of the experience I am eager and craving to indulge in your pleasures. What I'm asking is to have a bit more playtime with your cock and what you desire. Unless you have your limits on what to do with me than I'm fine with whatever. But I've been really horny and eager to play with you. Respond to my email ASAP

Michael.

With the email sent, Michael left with his wife to the funeral, Jack following suit to mourn and respect the passing of their close neighbor. After a good few hours the trio returned home, Jack vanishing back into his room to chill while Mike shifted through his phone, searching through his email to find a reply to his email from earlier.
 
The sombre mood of the funeral gave way to a more cordial affair in widespread conversation after the woman had been laid to rest, but a quietness lingered upon the Menters' return home. Of course, this was far from out of the ordinary, as Sophie retreated to the desktop computer in the living room to check her emails and even to distract herself from thoughts of Margaret with some solitaire. There was a peacefulness in the house which allowed all three to retreat into their own little worlds for a time, and Michael's world was brightened by a reply from the sultry Italian escort who'd so thrilled him little less than a week ago.

Hi baby,

How is 7 for you? We can do whatever you like as long as it's mentioned in my ad! You can ask about anything else you're interested in :) Can't wait to see you again!

Francesca

Back in her apartment—fresh from giving oral sex to regular client who had only had fifteen minutes in which to stop by and enjoy her company—Francesca was once again grouping Michael into one of the classes of customers whom she was frequented by. He was not the only one who seemed intent on pleasing her ahead of himself, though in truth, she rarely got as much pleasure as they would like to believe. In such cases, however, she was good enough an actress for them not to know it—if they wanted to bring her pleasure, she would show them that she was pleased, and she could hardly claim to dislike any orgasms which they brought her. At the end of the day, it was work—but her work just happened to involve a carnal pleasure which was difficult to escape in its immediacy.
 
A smile took Michael's face when he got a reply from her and she had a time set for when they could meet up. With his plans set, he just needed to come up with some sort of excuse as to why he needed to leave tomorrow. Even if it wasn't necessary, he knew at some point she might ask either before or after he leaves. So after clearing his email, he set his phone aside and sat on his usual spot on his recliner, flipping through the tv channels as he thought.

The rest of the day went through normally, aside from the ocassional mention of their neighbor which pu the group in silence at the dinner table.When everyone went to bed yet again Sophie denied him sex, too worked up over the death of her friend to be in the mood for anything. So the two siimply went to sleep for the night. Though the next morning Michael was up bright and early, leaving a note for Sophie to read, letting her know he was heading out for a while and would be back later, leaving it at that.

As 7 rolled around, Michael stood at her apartment door and gave it a few soft knocks.
 
The door opened promptly and there was Francesca, her long brunette hair cascading down over her shoulders and breasts, and today her sultry figure was wrapped in little more than a silk robe, tied loosely at the waist. Her legs and feet were bare—the robe came only halfway down her thighs—and where it lay open betwixt chest and collarbone, her cleavage sat alluringly. Her lips and nails were painted a delicate shade of pink, and she smiled warmly.

"Hi baby, come on in," she purred, stepping back to let Michael enter. Her apartment smelled of freshly burned incense, which in turn had been lit to guise the scent of her previous client and the carnal business they had engaged in. "How are you today?" she asked, closing the door behind them and making for the sitting room.
 
When she answered the door dressed in nothing more but hr robe, Michael took a moment to take in the beauty of her body. His eyes first locked onto her cleavage, licking his lips before scaling down her figure to meet with her luscious, tender, exposed legs. Francesca was definitely a beauty in every sense of the word. So when invited in, Michael nodded a bit and cleared his mind as he stepped past her, letting her shut the door.

"I'm doing pretty good today. Would love to go ahead and get started though, been eager to come back and enjoy some fun with you.."He assured her, licing his lips as he found himself a seat on the couch."Though..with what I had asked in the email..I'm hoping you could be easy on me.."He wondered, unsure if she loved it rough or gentle when it came to using her cock for more than just handjobs.
 
"I'd be a terrible escort if I didn't give my clients just what they wanted," Francesca joked, not without sensuality. "Tell me what you desire and we will take it one step at a time," she assured him. Beneath the silk robe, the sensation of lace lingerie was upon her flesh—tastes of another come and gone—and her skin bore the scent of perfume, more obvious to her guest when she slunk onto the couch next to her guest, crossing one delectable leg over the other.

At the risk of being wrong, she assumed that what he was looking for today entailed acts which he had no prior experience with, and her patience was paramount to setting him at ease. It was odd how methodically one could view sex when it became their work, though in many ways it was less about method and merely about understanding people and circumstance. Either way, Michael was in good hands with the understanding Italian.
 
when she eased his mind by agreeing to do what he wanted and promised to go easy, Michael relaxed on the couch. Though his nose flared and he smiled when the scent of her perfume drilled through his figure, expelling a soft, pleasing sigh from his lips. He loved the scent of her, something his wife never seemed to enjoy using just for his desires, just for him to enjoy. So when he took in the aromatic flavor of his current lover, he smiled more and moved in closer.

Once he figured they were both comfy and understanding of the situation, Michael slowly reached over to her and shed that lovely robe from her slender figure."So shall we begin Francesca?"He asked, hoping she was as ready to start as he was. He wanted to explore this dark, hidden desire that burned inside him, which only burned hotter after his first encounter with the luscious, voluptuous tranny.
 
"Of course, baby..." Her reply was more a purr than a sentence, her very being dripping sensuality with the way she looked up at him from beneath her lashes, face bowed just slightly. Her fingers deftly walked across his collarbone and she curled closer to him, the robe slipping away in his grasp to reveal a matching thong and bra of black lace, and stockingless garters upon her silky thighs. Both items of lingerie hid sizeable bulges, above from her prodigious breasts and below from her large womanhood, tucked neatly beneath the fabric. It was almost amazing how an appendage so strongly associated with masculinity could fail to detract from her feminine allure.

She shrugged her shoulders to usher the garment off in its entirety, and it fell silently to the couch behind her. Her eyes—gently lowered—focused upon Michael's, treating him to a practised, lusty gaze, without which her services would have been sorely lacking in genuineness. She was his to explore and to do with as he pleased, as long as it fell within her rules.
 
Once more his eyes fell upon her figure, seeing through her lingerie at the large mountains that lay beneath the fabric, even the hefty cock that was separating her from the females that she resembled so much. His breathing picked up as he moved from her and began to strip from his own attire, letting her lay eyes on his toned upper body, showing he didn't lack any kind of strength at all. Next came his pants and boxers, not denying her any visual of the slowly throbbing length he held between his legs, happy to meet with her yet again. His legs were chiseled, allowing him to move, run and even thrusts powerfully to give the pleasure he knew he could give.

Once he was free from the confines of his attire, Michael pulled on her lingerie, seeking to shed her coverings and reveal her figure to him once again.Rather than wait for her to start anything, he took her cock into his hand, rubbing her softly, taking in short breaths."I know I'm the client here, But I want to explore your desires and do what you crave the most Francesca. I want to explore that mind of yours and give you the pleasure that I could with the proper guidance."
 
She raised her hips to allow the thong passage down her thighs, slipping her feet through the holes as it fell to the floor alongside her brazier. Her womanhood was warm and soft in his hand, and sceptical though she was that he could truly help her to explore her sexuality and desires any more than she already had done, the escort let none of her misgivings show, gazing up at him as she drew herself close to him, one hand resting on his upper arm. The other snaked down his torso towards the rigid shaft between his legs, and when she spoke her voice was again soft and lusty.

"Mmm, I don't think you did too badly last time," she purred, her fingers trailing along his shaft, at length closing around it and stroking slowly. "I am no different to other women—I like being made love to just the same." She turned her body into his, one smooth leg sliding over his thigh, her cock beginning to stiffen in his grasp.
 
He watched her move herself on top of him when her leg draped over his own and took his rigid shaft into her hand which graced her with soft, needy throbs.His hip rolled in her hand as she rubbed him and gave him attention between his legs. Even if she was sceptical, Michael intened to do just that and give her the satisfaction he was sure most clients didn't offer. He felt the need to, the need to give such a amazing woman that much, a break so to speak from the familiar requests from her work.

So in return for her stroking him, Michael stroked her with slow loving motions, letting her feel her cock slide into his hand, oly to feel a tight grip take her when he reached the base."Then lets enjoy ourselves..But lets give you some pleasure too..I'm sure you've been wanting to use your own cock for some time right?"
 
Francesca laughed softly, sharing a look with her client, both feeling the others' member in their hands. Where Michael's was hard and ready, hers was slowly swelling and growing in his grasp. The leather was warm beneath them, and where their naked bodies joined the union of bare flesh upon flesh was sweet and arousing to the senses.

"What makes you so sure?" she asked, taking up a coy silence. Was he really so sure, or was he just covering his own desires with hers? she wondered. And didn't she have to take the garbage out? Yes—she'd do so once she'd cleaned up after Michael left. She was growing tired of serving client after client's needs; it was about time she got to go out and enjoy herself, but perhaps this week's money would allow her to take a day to herself. It had really been too long... Her thoughts snapped back to Michael, and she gave his member a gentle squeeze before sliding her hand from its base back to the tip and stroking down his length. What was it that he truly wanted?
 
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