Head On (The Head On Trilogy) (3 page)

I opened my mouth to tell him to go to hell, but the money was sitting on the table right behind me and I couldn't get it out of my mind. A sudden, horrible realization hit me: Parkin thought I was a stripper, or worse... a prostitute! He thought I was going to... I felt my throat go dry as suddenly all the incongruous parts of this encounter began to slot into place.

"Come on," he said, "I only have an hour to spare. Time's running out. I have to go and fire two hundred people before lunch, and then..." He paused, and there seemed to be a hint of sadness in his voice. "We don't have forever," he said finally, his voice filled with a hint of some deeper meaning.

"I'm not..." I started to say, but the words stuck in my throat. "I'm not..." I tried to say again, but something was stopping me from completing the sentence. The truth was, the mere thought of going through with this, of sleeping with this guy and then pocketing a load of money, was not as shocking or appalling as I would have expected. In fact, it felt strangely real and possible, and there was a whispering, tingling sensation in my chest.

"Now," he said firmly, with a kind of finality that made me realize he wouldn't ask again. I had to either do this, or leave.

One hour. I couldn't, could I? The money would be a life-saver, and truth be told, I'd happily sleep with a guy like Drake Parkin for no money at all in the right circumstances. Sure, he was pretty rude, but if I met him in a club, I'd happily go home with him. Still... the idea of having sex with him for money seemed so... I took a deep breath and tried to calculate how long it would take me to earn twenty-five thousand dollars doing my usual job at his company. The answer was: a long time. Although my heart was telling me that this was wrong, I found myself realizing that in fact it wouldn't be so bad to do something like this just once, to get some easy money. I couldn't stop thinking about the feel of that money in my hand.

And so, although my brain was telling me to turn and walk out of here, and although a voice in the back of my mind was screaming at me to stop, I found my trembling fingers slowly reaching up to unbutton my shirt.

Drake Parkin

She was doing it. I could barely believe it, but she was actually obeying me word for word.

I'd had her pegged from the start as a flake-out, maybe a new girl who was going to panic and run out. Evelyn had fucked up once before, sending a girl who couldn't go through with the arrangement, and I'd long been worried that it might happen again. Given the way things had been going lately, I couldn't afford to waste even a minute. Nevertheless, to my utter surprise, this Kathryn woman was actually starting to strip, and I couldn't deny that I was interested.

Very
interested.

The truth was, I'd been kind of bored lately. With the deadline looming, I'd begun to view every day, every interaction, every conversation, as being totally pointless. Even sex had dulled, and I was having to push myself further and further to remain interested. Evelyn was by far the best agent in the city, but I was tired of the steady stream of girls she'd been sending me. Every single one of them had what I call 'hooker eyes', by which I mean that airy, drained look of confidence that girls get when they've been fucking for money. I'd been wanting a change for a while, but I hadn't known how to articulate my needs. Suddenly this Kathryn woman had turned up, and she was a breath of fresh air. I couldn't explain it, but after weeks of apathy, I was suddenly turned on again.

Very
turned on.

As she continued to unbutton her shirt, pausing with each button as if she was continually reconsidering her decision to do this, I felt a greater and greater level of desire.

I mean, sure, she'd been kind of irritating in the car, but I put most of that down to her apparent lack of preparation. She seemed hopelessly out of her depth, and even as her fingers unbuttoned her shirt, I felt as if she was very much on edge. I'd told Evelyn I didn't want a first-timer, and I trusted Evelyn to stick strictly to my requirements, which made Kathryn's apparent naivety all the more puzzling. I figured there was a chance she might just be acting, but she seemed too convincing. Something about this whole situation just wasn't right, and I determined to get to the truth.

If I didn't know better, I'd think she wasn't even a hooker at all.

Kathryn

I dropped the shirt on the floor and reached behind my back to unhook my bra. Where the hell were my morals? Shouldn't I be running out of here, offended and upset? I couldn't help thinking that something was deeply, seriously wrong with me. A normal woman would
not
be contemplating something like this.

"Stop!" Parkin called out.

I stopped. Almost like a robot, on command.

Parkin stared for a couple of minutes. I didn't dare to say anything, so I just stood there. "Yes," he said finally. He reached down, unzipped his trousers and took out his cock. It was big in every respect: long and thick, circumcised and with a large head. Fully erect, it was easily seven inches or more, with a thick, prominent vein on the underside. He put a hand around it, just holding himself while he looked at me. You could have said a lot of things about Drake Parkin at that particular moment, but there was no denying that he was direct and he that he didn't seem to mind letting me know what he wanted me to do.

"Take the bra off," he said finally.

With another quick glance at the pile of cash, I unhooked my bra and let it fall to the floor. Instantly, I felt a shiver of excitement as I saw his gaze focus on my breasts; I looked down at my chest and watched them rise and fall with every nervous breath I took. Looking back at Parkin, I saw that he was just staring at me, his cock still in his hand. An image of my mother flashed into my head; she was looking at me with an expression of clear disappointment.
My daughter, a common whore
. I blinked a couple of times to make the image go away. My mother didn't understand how the world worked.

I did. Now, anyway.

"Strip down to your panties," Parkin said suddenly.

I felt a shiver run up my spine. This seemed like a really bad idea, and I still wasn't quite sure whether I was willing to go all the way, but nevertheless I unbuttoned my trousers and let them drop. Stepping out of them, I smiled weakly as I stood there, watching as his eyes stared at my body. I felt like a product, like an object he was assessing. Perhaps he'd turn me away without giving me the money, and I'd just be left feeling horribly humiliated. Another image flashed into my head, but this time it was Donna and she looked vaguely impressed.
Go for it, girl
, her eyes seemed to be saying.

I'm not a prostitute
, I imagined myself saying to her.

Would you fuck him if you met him at a club?
she replied.

Of course.

Then how is this different?
she replied.
The money's just a bonus. Friends with benefits, that kind of thing. People fuck for money all the time. At least you're being honest about it. I told you money makes people do crazy shit, didn't I?

I blinked again, and the image of Donna dissipated.

"Turn around," Parkin said.

I turned.

"Stand up straight."

I held my shoulders back, trying to remember all those lessons about posture that my mother gave me when I was younger.

"Nice ass," he said. "Keep your back to me and take your panties off."

I paused.

"Keep your back to me," he said again, much more firmly this time, "and take your panties off. And stop making me repeat things, or I'm gonna throw you out."

Ignoring the fact that my hands were shaking with nerves, I carefully slipped the panties all the way down, finally stepping out of them and standing completely still.

I waited for his next command.

And waited.

And waited.

I could feel his eyes staring at my bare ass.

Opening my mouth, I dared myself to say something, but I couldn't. I just had to focus on not letting him see that I was nervous.

"Turn around," he said suddenly, "but keep your hand over your pussy. I don't want to see it yet."

I took a deep breath, put a hand over my crotch, and turned to him, making sure to smile. The funny thing is, as I stood there, I felt a little moisture coming from my vagina. The whole situation might have been deeply, deeply wrong, but with shocking clarity I realized that I was actually getting turned on. I wanted to deny the truth, to cling to the belief that I wasn't this kind of woman, but I couldn't ignore the fact that right now, I was almost trembling with anticipation.

Slowly, Parkin ran his hand down his thick, engorged shaft.

For a moment, it occurred to me to tell Parkin to forget the money, that I'd do this for free, but I knew how much I needed that cash. Foregoing the money would be a noble move that would maybe make me feel better for a moment, but I needed that money so damn much, I couldn't turn it down. I figured it was best just to keep quiet, but a little voice in the back of my head warned me:
He's going to realize you're not a prostitute, and he's going to be mad that you tried to trick him. You can't possibly please him
. I took a deep breath and blinked a few times, and the voice faded. I was getting better and better at putting my conscience to the back of my mind.

Parkin nodded. "Nice," he said after a moment, still stroking his cock. "Tell me, are you shaved or not?"

I swallowed hard. "I'm... trimmed," I said, wondering if it was the right answer.

"Any piercings?"

I shook my head. Again: was that what he wanted, or had I disappointed him? I wanted to know.

He nodded again. "Come closer."

With my hand still over my crotch, I walked over to him, stopping when I was a few feet from his chair. I couldn't help staring at the tip of his cock, imagining it inside me, filling me with its hotness. At that precise moment, it was all I could think about, and all I wanted.

"Closer," he said.

I stepped closer, until I was right at his chair. He leaned toward the hand over my crotch, pressing his fingers against mine.

"Move it away," he said.

I hesitated for a fraction of a second.

"I told you to move it away," he said firmly.

I moved the hand, exposing myself completely. He reaches out and ran a single fingertip against the smooth, shaved skin next to my thin wisp of trimmed pubic hair, before moving down and touching the edge of my wet labia. I could feel the fingertip exploring the moisture, wiping it along the lips of my vagina, as if he was preparing me for the imminent moment of penetration.

"Nice," he said. "Tidy." He looked up at me. "Evelyn chose well," he added, before taking off his sunglasses to finally reveal a pair of gorgeous, dark brown eyes that stared at me with what felt like an immense power. I knew, at that moment, that I wouldn't be able to resist his advances. "How does it feel," he asked, "to be assessed like this, and to pass inspection with flying colors?" He was still spreading my wetness across my crotch, occasionally dipping his fingertip a little deeper between my labia before drawing the smooth substance to the surface. As he did so, either by accident or by design, the side of his finger brushed against my clitoris, sending a brief, wild stab of pleasure through my body.

I smiled awkwardly. "It's fine," I said, my voice tense as I struggled to say the right thing.

He smiled, but it was a cautious smile, as if he was anticipating a different answer. "Fine?" If anything, he seemed to find me quite amusing. "I've got to admit," he continued, "you're probably the best-looking girl Evelyn's ever sent to me. How old are you?"

"Twenty-six," I said.

He nodded, apparently approving of me. "If you're as good to fuck as you are to look at, this might become a regular thing. Are you, though?" He looked directly at my crotch. "Are you a good fuck?"

I smiled weakly. The truth was, I was no demon in the sack. Sure, I could do all the basics, but I usually had to fake an orgasm and I had no special tricks. With a sinking feeling, I realized my cover was about to be blown. As soon as he got me into bed, Parkin was going to realize that I didn't know what I was doing. I was a fool to think I could pull this off. Hell, I was still learning the missionary position; the one time I'd gone on top with my fiance, I'd seen the boredom in his eyes. The truth was: I was little more than functional when it came to sex, and Parkin would be expecting some kind of miracle-worker.

"Fifty minutes," Parkin said, glancing at his watch. "Hardly ideal, but we can call this an audition." He stood up and walked toward the bedroom, unbuttoning his shirt along the way. Reaching the door, he turned to me, and his shirt fell open to reveal a tight, tanned chest with well-defined muscles. He had the body of a man with both the time and the money to keep himself in great shape, and I couldn't help but imagine what it would be like to run my hands over his skin and press my bare breasts against his chest. "What are you waiting for?" he asked. "Time's running out."

"Nothing," I said, "I'm not waiting for anything!." I took a deep breath and walked after him, stepping over my discarded clothes along the way. With every step, I considered turning and running, but somehow I kept going. I could see the bed through the doorway, neatly made and ready for us.

Once we were in the bedroom, I watched as Parkin undressed. He had an amazing body, defined and toned in all the right places. It still felt strange, though, to think that in a few minutes he and I - complete strangers - would be on the bed together, getting intimate... touching each other, playing with each other's bodies, fondling and pleasuring each other and learning how to give each other what we wanted, and witnessing each other in moments of pure ecstasy. I'd normally need
at least
two white wine spritzers before getting to this point.

"Forty-five minutes," Parkin said, turning to me, completely naked and with his large, hard penis pointing straight up at me. "We need to get going. I'm not the kind of man who believes in wasting time."

I nodded, moving over to the bed. I could feel Parkin's eyes on me. He was watching, waiting to see how I'd start. He was probably expecting a performance. The truth is, I had no idea what to do. Was there some kind of special hooker trick that they all knew, and without which I'd be hopelessly exposed? I'd never been in a position like this before. My instinct was just to get on my back and open my legs, but perhaps he wanted something else? Perhaps he wanted foreplay, or oral, or something else? I had never, in my entire life, felt so hopelessly inexperienced. How the hell did I ever expect to convince this guy that I was some kind of seasoned expert at this kind of thing?

"So..." I said, trying to come up with an idea, "what do you want to do first?"

"I want you to suck my cock," he said bluntly, "and I want you to understand that you have to do exactly what I say, when I say, and any disobedience will result in you getting kicked out of here without your money. Do you understand?"

I paused. Sure, I understood, and part of me was relieved at the thought that I wouldn't have to be the one coming up with ideas. Following orders felt infinitely easier than having to come up with my own ideas. Part of me, though, was a little shocked at how firm he was being. It was like he was having sex with me, but I was just there to function as a kind of prop, and there was certainly no danger that I might end up misconstruing this encounter as something more passionate. "Do you want me to -" I started to say.

"I told you what I want you to do," he replied. "Another thing is that I don't want to have to repeat stuff. Ever since you got into my car, I've had to repeat almost everything I say. It's getting tiresome. Listen when I tell you what to do, and do it." He looked over at his watch. "Forty-three minutes," he said. "Suck my cock and wait for me to tell you what to do next."

I walked over to him and sat on the edge of the bed. He positioned himself right in front of me, his cock thrust into my face. Smiling and trying not to blush, I looked at the tip for a moment before gently putting a hand around the base and leaning forward, taking the top couple of warm inches into my mouth and sucking slowly while pressing the tip of my tongue below the head and licking all the way to the hole. I felt him harden a little more as I took him all the way into my mouth, until the tip was all the way to the back of my throat. I felt the stubble of his shaved crotch against my face. Not really sure what to do next, I began to wrap my tongue around his shaft before slowly slipping him back out and flicking the hole in the end with my tongue. He tasted good, with a hint of his own lubrication.

"Slow or fast?" I asked, pushing the palm of my hand against his large balls.

"Fast."

I slipped his cock all the way back in, this time working quickly to slide him in and out as fast as possible. I could tell he was enjoying it from the way he was getting a little larger, and I was careful to use my tongue and wrap it around his veiny shaft as much as possible. He seemed to be enjoying it so much, I was braced for him to unload a wad of sperm into my mouth at any moment. I knew I'd have to swallow, unless he told me otherwise, but I didn't mind. Putting the money out of my mind for just a second, I realized there was no reason not to enjoy going down on one of the richest men on the planet.

Suddenly he reached down and pushed my head back, his cock sliding out of my mouth.

"On your front," he said firmly. "All fours."