Date: Fri, 24 Nov 2023 16:45:22 -0800
From: N. <mecocklover@gmail.com>
Subject: Confessions of a Rural State Whore: Chapter 7

CONFESSIONS OF A RURAL STATE WHORE

Author's Note: Special thanks for Gary and Terry for their suggestions and
proof-reading.  Any inconsistencies, spelling errors, typos, or grammatical
mistakes are therefore their fault.

Further note: While I only recently discovered nifty.org, the site has been
around and archiving gay stories for more than 30 years.  Running a website
costs money, and nifty.org does not rely on ad revenue.  If you enjoy this
or other stories on this site, please consider making a donation of any
size at https://donate.nifty.org.


CHAPTER 7

THE CHOCOLATE GUY

Some men liked to make a show of trying to being romantic or impressing
their whore.  I'm not sure what drives this impulse, since we both knew
that I was usually there to put out in one way or the other.  Maybe it had
to do with some insecurity where they needed to show someone how much they
had accomplished or how desirable of a mate they would make.  If it would
make them feel good about the evening, though, I was not going to stand in
the way when $500 cash was going into my pocket.

Arrangements were made for me to meet someone who had newly moved to the
city.  I was to show up at a specific address at a specific time.  I was to
wear a long-sleeved button-down shirt with only the collar button undone,
grey slacks, and a thin black belt.  My instructions were to knock on the
door of the apartment three times.

The door opened quickly, so it was obvious that my host for the evening was
ready for me.  He was a few inches shorter than me and very thin.  He had a
noticeable five-o'clock shadow on his face, and his dark hair was parted on
the right.  His grin showed a dimple on only one side, and a small tuft of
dark hair could be seen poking from the top of his cream-colored silk
button-down shirt.  He gave me a kiss on the cheek as he took my hand and
invited me in.

There was definitely a "romance him, impress him, seduce him" vibe that
night.  The lighting in his living room was dim, but not dark.  Two long
white tapered candles on his coffee table illuminated an expensive bottle
of red wine, two glasses, and a collection of expensive chocolates.
Instrumental music played softly and was just barely audible as he led me
to the couch.  I sat near the middle of the sofa, and he poured us each
some wine.

We chatted as we sipped wine and nibbled chocolates.  He was an
"information architect," though he was not able to adequately explain what
that actually meant.  After a while, I was apparent to me that it was just
a fancy title that goes on a business card to sound impressive.

He was very careful to make himself sound very intelligent, also.  The
conversation ping ponged from the music of Phillip Glass to organic
chemistry to obscure Greek myths to photography and several other points.
While I was not an expert on any of these matters, I was bright enough to
ask questions that gave him an opportunity to explain further.  His
conversation would have been very off-putting in any another context, but I
was being well-paid to make him feel good.  If this is what it took, I was
willing to suffer through the conversation.

One of my hands rested on the back of his couch while I held my wine glass,
and he began to lightly Ð- almost absent-mindedly Ð- run two fingers
across mine.  He asked how I was enjoying the wine, the music, the
chocolates, and the company.  I assured him that everything was as perfect
as a person could reasonably hope for.

"The chocolates are really good, aren't they?" he asked.

"They are wonderful," I replied.  "A good chocolate is one of life's great
pleasures."  I sincerely meant every word of this.  I adored good
chocolate.

After I said this, he looked into my face, as if trying to figure something
out in his head.  Then he took the glass from my hand, put both mine and
his on the coffee table, and moved closer.  He reached to the chocolates
and took a small one from the selection.  He held it between his thumb and
forefinger directly in front of my lips.

Looking carefully into his eyes, I leaned forward until the candy was just
touching my lips.  I opened them, extending my tongue to lick the underside
of the chocolate Ð and also the edge of his thumb.  I then wrapped my
lips around the candy and took it into my mouth.

His hands immediately embraced my cheeks, and he pulled my face to him.  He
pressed his lips against mine and opened them, extending his tongue to my
mouth.  He licked at my tongue and pulled the chocolate into his mouth to
partake of it.  Then it was pushed back into mine.  He made a game of it,
continuing to kiss me as it melted.

As the last firmness of the candy disintegrated in our mouths, another
piece touched the corner of my mouth.  Our lips parted and my mouth
enveloped it.  My host wrapped his hand behind my head and pulled me
tightly into his kiss, deepening it.  He ran his fingers through my hair
roughly as he savored the mixture of melted chocolate and my saliva.

He continued kissing me, pulling me closer.  He was an excellent kisser.
He moved his mouth like an expert, alternately pushing his tongue in and
then retreating.  His hands roamed across my fully clothed torso and up to
my head, and I responded in kind.

Good wine, good chocolate, and good kissing mixed together in my mind until
I was almost giddy with delight.  I had come across far too few good
kissers in my work, and this one exposed me to something new with passing
chocolates while kissing.  I looked forward to seeing how things progressed
that night.

In the meantime, we seemed to be wearing too many clothes.  I removed my
hands from his back and brushed my hands across his chest.  He was very
thin Ð almost too skinny for my taste Ð but his small hard nipples
protruded through his silk shirt.  As my thumb gently touched one, he
stiffened and gave a shuddering breath.

I grinned to myself as I moved my lips from his mouth and down to his neck.
Nipples were a sensitive spot on him.  This was good to know.  My fingers
slid over the little nub again.

"Gently," he whispered.  "I like just barely a touch."

I could accommodate that, and I did.  He leaned his head back as I moved
from one side of his neck to the other, and I lightly brushed the silken
fabric across his right nipple.  He gave a little gasp and a little groan
and melted into me a bit.  I raised my head and kissed him lightly on the
lips.

He slid back away from me slightly on the couch.  My fingers continued so
slowly glide across his shirt and nipples.  I slightly pinched the fabric
on his chest and shook it so that the silk all but vibrated against the
stiffened nubs.  His eyes rolled back slightly as he began to collapse in
pleasure before catching himself.

He gave a slight smile and closed his eyes as I continued go gently run the
fabric across his chest.  He reached up to undo the buttons on his shirt.
As soon has he had given me enough room, I slipped my hand beneath the
shirt and grazed the hard, small nubbin on one pectoral.  I placed it
between two fingers and slowly drew my hand back, causing him to give a
little moan.

My host's hands had stopped working, but the muscles in his face tremored
in delight.  I returned to kissing his neck and I removed my hand from
beneath his shirt so that I could finish unbuttoning it.  As I pulled the
tucked shirt tails from his trousers, he put his hands on my shoulders.

"Wait," he breathed.

I leaned back and looked at him questioningly.  I didn't think I had been
doing anything he did not enjoy, but he was the one paying for the time and
attention.  "What is it?"

"I need to go get something," he said, "and we're both a little
overdressed, now."  He caught his breath and stood, hairy chest and belly
exposed to the air and candlelight.  "I'll be back in a minute.  You get
undressed."

I grinned to myself and began unbuttoning my own shirt.  I figured that he
was leaving to get condoms and lube, because most people kept those in
their bedroom instead of the living room.  Not knowing how much time I
would have, I began to hurriedly take off my clothes.  I noticed a light
shining through an open doorway, and it remained on.

I piled my discarded clothes on the floor near the end of the couch.  I sat
back down, completely naked, and leaned back into the cushions.  I exposed
myself in the direction that my host had left and began fingering my cock,
anticipating his return.

Presently, he returned and tood in the doorway, silhouetted by the light
from the other room.  I could see that he carried a bottle of some sort in
one hand, but I could not tell what it was.  I assumed that it was probably
lube.  The other hand held what looked like a towel.

He walked slowly and uncertainly into the living room.  As he neared the
candle light, I could see he was also naked.  He had low-hanging balls, and
his semi-erect cock sprouted from a trimmed tuft of pubic hair.  His frame
was very thin Ð almost bony Ð but lithe and well-toned.

He sat the bottle down on the coffee table, and I saw that it was not a big
bottle of lube.  He had brought a bottle of chocolate sauce.

"O.K.," he said uncertainly.  "This might sound a little weird."

I cocked an eyebrow and smirked a little.  I had been prostituting myself
for almost ten years by this point, and I had experienced some unusual
tastes.  Chocolate sauce would not even rank in the top 20 at this point.

"Can you lick this off of me?"

That's not what I expected.  I had assumed that he wanted to lick it off of
me.  But he was good looking, I really liked chocolate, and he was paying
for the time and the experience.  "Of course."

He arranged the towel on the couch and laid down on it, face up.  He
propped his head on a throw pillow.  He wriggled a little to settle himself
in and make himself comfortable, spreading his legs slightly.  He took two
deep breaths, and his thin hairy chest rose and fell.  He closed his eyes
tightly.  "I'm ready."

I leaned over to kiss him lightly on the lips while reaching back for the
bottle.  It was cold to the touch; he had been keeping it in either the
refrigerator or freezer.  Breaking he kiss, I pushed up the top of the
squeeze-bottle and brought it near his lips.  Exerting careful pressure, I
watched as a very thin thread landed on his upper lip.

His lips parted in the shock of the temperature as he inhaled.  I quickly
withdrew the bottle, stuck out my tongue, and forcefully licked the path
that the drizzle had taken.  My host's tongue protruded from his mouth,
attempting to draw me into another kiss, but I was intent on cleaning the
chocolate.  He was only able to lick my cheek and chin before I drew my
head back.

My next target was his neck.  I lifted his chin with the palm of my empty
hand and held the bottle with the other above from my target by about the
length of my forearm.  I could feel him trembling beneath my fingers as I
held the cold thick liquid over him.  I waited for him to relax.

I curled the fingers of my empty hand across his chin and to his lips.  He
immediately took two into his mouth and began sucking them intently.  His
tongue slid over and between them, kissing my fingers with passion.  As he
focused on this task, I gave a squeeze to the bottle.

A blob of cold, dark liquid fell into the hollow space at the base of his
neck.  His teeth bit down on my fingers, but not painfully, and he emitted
a high-pitched noise that was somewhere between a scream and a moan.  My
warm tongue quickly followed, giving a fierce lick from his sternum and up
his neck.  I removed my fingers from his mouth and replaced them with my
tongue, feeding him the chocolate sauce that had recently been on his neck.

He writhed on top of the towel, wrinkling it up underneath his thin body.
He was very obviously appreciating and loving the difference in temperature
between the refrigerated liquid and my mouth, the taste, and the contact.
In all honesty, so I was I.  This was an excellent form of foreplay.

My plan was to continue tracking further and further south, teasing as I
got closer to his average-sized dick.  I soon discovered a problem, though.

At the first drizzle across his chest, nothing made it to his skin.  His
chest hair was just a little too thick and long.  The syrup matted in it
and was being held above the skin but only by a tiny degree.  I cleaned the
area and reconsidered.  There were parts of his torso that had little to no
hair.  I needed to focus on those.

The obvious targets were his nipples, but he would be expecting that.  If
they were as sensitive as he let on, he needed to feel some anticipation
before that happened.  I continued with the cold droplets on the next, the
sides of his stomach, anywhere that the hair was missing or at least
thinner.  My warm tongue and lips cleaned him thoroughly before the next
bit fell.

I switched the squeeze bottle into the other hand.  It was still very cold,
and now the fingers that had been holding it for the last few minutes were
also chilled, almost numb.  While he was focused on the bottle, I gently
caressed his right nipple between my cold digits, rolling the tip between
my thumb and forefinger.

With a sharp intake of breath, his eyes opened wide.  His right hand
reached up and grabbed my wrist tightly, but there was no attempt to move
it away.  While his attention was focused on his right nipple, a quick blob
of chocolate sauce landed on his left.

"God," he exclaimed, releasing my hand.

I moved deliberately, opening my mouth and engulfing his chocolate-covered
nipple.  I sucked for a moment, nursing the sauce from his skin, before I
began flicking my tongue against just the tip.  I felt his free tightly
clasping my head to his chest as I continued giving little butterfly kisses
with my tongue.

I stopped and came up for air.  Raising up off of him, I looked him in the
face.  "Flip over," I instructed.

He looked momentarily confused, but complied.  His back was almost
completely smooth, and his pert little ass was now pointed toward the
ceiling.  His butt was lightly hairy, beginning to get a little furry just
below the slightly-visible tan lines at his waist.  He slightly raised his
hips and moved them while spreading his legs a bit, offering himself to me.

I would be entering him in time.  I had no questions in my mind about that.
But first, the chocolate sauce was still cold, and there was a goodly
amount of mostly hair-free territory to explore.

I raised the bottle up and took aim.  The first drops fell and landed just
above his ass crack.  I moved my arm toward his head and squeezed, leaving
a thick line along his spine up to his shoulder blades.  My host whined
audibly and turned his head into the throw pillows.  He buried his face as
I put the bottle on the coffee table.

I decided to clean him off going in the same direction as the mess I had
made.  I got behind him and took his asscheeks in my hands, prying them
apart.  A small bit of chocolate was slowly starting to move down between
them, so I flicked out my tongue and began the cleanup.  The barest tip of
my tongue touched just the edge of his hole, and he quivered.  He tried to
gently raise his hips to feed me his hole, but I kept a firm grip on him to
prevent that.

I raised my head.  "Not yet," I said.  "We need to get you cleaned up,
first."

His muscles relaxed again, and I began lapping at the dark streak going up
his back.  In short order, the skin was once again all one color.  I moved
back to put my face closer to his butt, quietly reaching again for the
bottle.

While the chocolate was beginning to warm slightly, it was still reasonably
cold to the touch.  I made a bead fall at the top of his ass and left a
generous stream tracing the depths of his crack.  Beginning at the bottom I
licked hard, pausing to give his hole some tonguing.  The syrup slowly
oozed from the top of his crack down to my tongue, making his hole taste
extra sweet.

I heard him mutter something as I was half-rimming and half-cleaning him,
but I could not make out the words.  I finished bathing his crevice with my
efforts and raised my head.  "Did you say something?"

"Side," he breathed.

"Side?"

"Inside."

"Inside what?"

"Put some of that inside of me."

I paused.  This was starting to get a little weird.  Many people had asked
me to put things inside of their ass before, but it had always been
something firm.  Dildos, vibrators, vegetables Ð everything had been
slid in by hand, usually so my client could be fucked with them.  I'd never
been asked to squirt a liquid foodstuff into someone's ass before.

I considered for just a moment and shrugged to myself.  He was the paying
customer, and it was not my place to judge.

I placed the very end of the squeeze bottle firmly against his asshole,
already slick from my spit.  I could feel the chilled liquid moving go that
end of the bottle as the weight redistributed and the temperature began to
change under my fingers.  "Is this what you want?"

"Yes." He whispered.

"Is it?"

"Please.  Yes."

"Are you sure?"  I nudged the bottle just a little, ever so slightly
penetrating him with just the tip.  I knew I was teasing him a little, but
he seemed desperate for this to happen.  The anticipation would heighten
the experience if it was drawn out just a little.

"Please," he begged, raising his ass to try to engulf the bottle's tip.

I denied him his goal, at least for now.  As he raised his hips, I pulled
back the bottle a bit, letting if more or less float.  "Please what?"

He raised his voice and turned his head.  "Just squeeze the fuckingÑ"

He did not get to finish his sentence.  He eyes opened wide as I gave a
good squeeze, flooding the first few inches of his colon with cold
chocolate syrup.

I immediately pulled the bottle back and set it on the coffee table.
Spreading his cheeks again with my hands, I dived in face first.  His hole
was now slightly leaking the sauce, making his ass taste even sweeter than
before.  I closed my eyes and plunged my tongue in as deeply as I could.

My client gave a small scream and bucked into my face.  His hands clutched
at the couch cushions as he buried his head into the pillows.  Using my
hands, I forced his hips down and spread his legs wide to reach even
further inside of him.  I was not going to be denied this delicious taste
treat.

I devoured his hole for almost half an hour.  I came up for air several
times, panting heavily and sweating, only to begin again when a small
dribble of chocolate leaked from him.  His hole began to relax into almost
a gape as I continued tongue-fucking him.  The noises of satisfaction he
emitted drove me to eat in a more frenzied manner.

Finally, my host raised himself to his elbows.  He was breathing as heavily
as I was.  He adjusted his legs to close off my buffet.

"Bedroom."

"Lead the way," I replied.  I had cleaned him inside and out as well as I
could.  I wanted to be inside that now-opened hole.

Wrapping my wrist in his fingers, he pulled urgently at me as he led me
through his apartment and to his bed.  He practically flung me onto the
mattress so that I was on my back.  Immediately, he climbed on top of me.
Leaning over, he gave me a hungry, desperate kiss while he reached back and
maneuvered my cock into position against him.

Without breaking the kiss, he pushed himself down, taking me into him all
at once.  A high-pitched growl came from his throat; he had been wanting to
get fucked for a long time tonight, and he was going to be satisfied no
matter what.

The warm slickness of his insides enveloped me, and I moaned in delight
myself.  He ground his bony ass against my hips, forcing me in as deeply as
he could.

A thought made its way to the front of my brain.  I turned my head to break
the kiss.  "Condom," I panted.

He took my earlobe into his mouth and began sucking and licking.  "Mmm?" he
questioned.

"I don't have a rubber on, and I'm inside you."

My client released my lobe and brought his lips directly to my ear canal.
"I know," he whispered in an almost inaudible voice.  "That's how I want
you."

"But IÑ" I began.  However, he pushed himself in a sitting position and
began furiously riding my dick, fucking himself with my cock as best he
could.

I knew I shouldn't be doing this.  It was risky and arguably unethical for
a whore to fuck a client bare in those days.  Nevertheless, my brain was on
overdrive from the sensations I was feeling, and he was obviously needing
this.  I closed my eyes, steeled myself, and made my decision.

I put my hands on his hips and began thrusting, pushing into him as we
synched our motions.  I used the strength in my arms to make him bounce
harder into me by pulling upward and slamming him back down, and he reached
for his cock.  It was leaking copiously with precum, and my belly was
already slick with the stuff.  I pounded hard into him, forcing him to
ignore his dick and use both hands to brace himself on the bed.  His
unhindered dick slapped repeatedly and quickly against my stomach.

"Oooooohhh fuuuuuuuuuuuucccckkkkk" he exclaimed, punctuated by the staccato
machine gun sounds of my hips slapping loudly against has ass from below.
His voice rose in pitch to almost a whine as I drove in and out of him, my
bare skin sliding into his.  His hole wrapped around me lovingly, and his
insides caressed my length.

I shifted my hands and slowed my pace, going for slow-and-powerful instead
of fast fucking.  I pushed him up higher off of me.  I slowly pulled out
before thrusting up as hard as I could.  I held for a moment, grinding my
cock into him before I repeated the motions.

My client finally was able to begin jerking his cock, and he did so with a
vengeance.  He cried out with each my thrusts, and he began anticipating
them.  Each time I thrust into his prostate, he would give a fresh burst of
speed for a couple of seconds as he savored the sensation of me plowing
into his ass.

I could feel him stiffening around me, and I knew he was building himself
up to blast across my chest.  I maintained my pace, as he was obviously
enjoying it.  He began to straighten up, sitting taller as I continued to
push in as deep as I could on each heave.  He arched backwards and froze.
His mouth dropped open, and his eyes rolled back and I shoved in and held.

A small whimper escaped from his throat, and I felt his asshole begin to
clench tightly around my cock.  I knew he was getting close to popping off,
and I was going to do my best to push him over the top.  I began to quicken
my pace again as he began to cry out.

He hunched over and began to cum.  After the second pulse, I tried to match
each push into him with each of his shots.

After the sixth, his eyes went wide.  "What the fuck?" he exclaimed before
he began to convulse again.  "Don't stop.  You're making me cum again!"

He was largely shooting blanks, but I had no reason to doubt him.  I could
feel his hole squeezing my dick rhythmically as I continued to work on him
from below.  Eventually, he leaned forward and collapsed on top of me, and
I shifted position slightly to remain inside of him.

Wrapping my arms around him, I rolled over to pin him beneath me.  I slid
out briefly but quickly re-entered.  I lay on top of him, pressing his cum
between us, as I continued to fuck his ass.  I didn't care that he had
already gotten off Ð it was my turn.  If he wanted me to fuck him bare,
he was going to take my seed inside of him.

My host clutched me tightly to him as I maintained my pace.  "Oh fuck," he
muttered over and over.  He reached out his tongue and began licking my
earlobe again.

That was all the additional stimulation I needed.  I knew I was going to
bust inside of him, and I knew he wanted me to.  He would not have insisted
on fucking bareback if he did not want to be bred.  "I'm going to drop my
load in you, you know," I growled as I passed the point of no return.

He moved his hands to clutch at my ass and pull me into him.  "Do it.  Give
it to me."

I did.  I curled into him to unload as deep into his guts as I could reach.
His own cum that had been shot over my stomach smeared between us as I
speared at his insides with my final push.  He tried to physically pull me
in deeper as he clutched at me.  "Damn, I can feel you shooting in me," he
said breathlessly.

I stayed plugged into him for several minutes after I shot as we caught out
breath and our sweat and his cum dried.  I did not want my fluids leaking
out of him until he had a chance to absorb it into himself.  His ass had
opened up from just a vigorous tonguing; I could only imagine how it might
gape after getting fucked like this.  The room grew quiet as I laid on top
of him as our breathing slowed.  We both seemed hesitant to break the
silence.

At last, my client did.  "That," he said, "was incredible."  I couldn't
disagree.

After I left, I took myself off the job for a short time.  I had fucked a
client without a condom, which potentially exposed myself to the virus that
caused AIDS, which was only marginally treatable at the time.  After
waiting a few semi-worried weeks without developing any flu-like symptoms,
I took myself in for STD/HIV testing.  Everything came back negative, and I
was ready to go back to work.