Free Adventures of a London Call Boy by Ben Franckx Page B

yet,’ I said. ‘There’s plenty of time for that.’ I grabbed her hand, pushed it away, and with the other hand, turned her over onto her front. I pressed myself down onto her and entered her from behind, our bodies both flat, mine pressing her down onto the bed. I fucked her slowly at first, long deep strokes from behind, while she grasped my hands and I kept her pinned to the bed. I could feel from her movement and breathing that she was close to coming.
    â€˜Not yet,’ I said, pulling out. She gasped with the sudden emptiness inside her.
    My cock still rock hard, I rolled her back over and returned to licking her clit. She was quivering all over, and as she neared her climax, her moans and cries turned into squeals and shrieks.
    â€˜Now, now, yes. I want you to come inside me, now!’ she managed to shout.
    As I pulled away, she sat up, pushing me backwards and quickly mounting me. She rode me hard, while I strummed her clit with one hand and teased a nipple with the other. She began to call out, her motion getting more and more rapid and frantic with each thrust, and soon we were both coming in arching, bouncing movements, her pussy dripping wet onto my crotch.
    After the first effort, as we lay, separated and panting, on the bed, she looked up at me.
    â€˜Are we costing by time or by orgasm?’ she asked.
    â€˜No idea. Isn’t it a flat rate?’ I replied.
    â€˜In that case …’ she said.
    â€˜What?’ I replied.
    â€˜Come here.’
    I moved towards her, and she was soon sucking my cock back hard again. The second session was even more energetic, as I fucked her hard from behind, flat against the bed, to another noisy orgasm.
    Exhausted, I left in the early hours of the morning, £150 pounds richer and, officially, a paid shag.

Chapter Eighteen
    I was sitting outside a pub by the canal in Camden with Celeste a few days later when I got the call. She’d been taking the piss out of me because of my tired eyes and irregular early morning arrivals. I told her that since she’d been seeing her new man she’d been walking like a cowboy, and she told me to piss off.
    A couple of American tourists sharing the table next to us were giving Cel dirty looks as her tobacco smoke floated past their lunches and towards the Lock, when my phone rang. I didn’t recognise the number: another mobile, no clues.
    â€˜Another date?’ she asked.
    â€˜Jealous?’ I said.
    â€˜No. You dick.’
    I pulled a face and answered.
    â€˜Chesc,’ the female voice on the other end mispronounced.
    â€˜Yeah,’ I said, trying not to correct her.
    â€˜I hear you fuck for money.’
    I almost dropped my phone.
    â€˜Can I call you back?’ I asked.
    â€˜Yeah. Just don’t take too long about it.’
    I hung up.
    â€˜Shit,’ I said to Celeste. The couple gave me a dirty look.
    â€˜What?’
    â€˜Erm. It’s rather a delicate matter,’ I said. The couple next to us shifted awkwardly. I looked around for another table. They were all taken on what was a rare warm and rain-free day.
    â€˜Celeste,’ I whispered, trying hard not to be heard. ‘Did I tell you about the consultant woman?’ She raised her eyes to the heavens.
    â€˜I told you. You have an addiction.’ She turned to the couple. ‘This is my friend Cesc, by the way. He’s got a sex addiction. In fact, he’s got the sex addiction. He’s going to be in the medical textbooks.’
    â€˜Look, fuck off, Cel. This is serious. I need your advice.’ Turning to the couple, I added, ‘And I’m sorry about her. She has a serious case of vibrator-stuck-in-arse syndrome. It affects her motor and vocal functions. It’s like Tourette’s, but twelve inches and pink.’
    Muttering and fussing, the couple stood up and left, the man throwing a twenty onto the table and leaving his sandwich half finished.
    â€˜I’m