The stale air of the library clung to me like a shroud. Another all-nighter fueled by lukewarm coffee and the crushing weight of calculus. Finals were breathing down my neck, but even the looming threat of academic failure couldn’t fully eclipse the other, more persistent ache that throbbed within me. I was eighteen, a college freshman, and still a virgin. Pathetic, I knew.
I scrubbed my face with my hands, the rough skin offering little comfort. Everyone else seemed to be navigating the treacherous waters of college romance with ease. Hook-up’s, dates, relationships… I was invisible. A nerd in a hoodie, buried in books, perpetually on the side lines.
My phone buzzed. A text from Ella. My sister. Thirty-four, independent, and living in the city. We weren’t particularly close. Phone calls on birthdays, awkward silences at family gatherings.
“Hey Craig, how are finals going?”
A wave of guilt washed over me. She was trying. I should try too.
“Hey Ella. They’re… intense. Drowning in numbers. You?”
“Busy. Work is crazy. Thinking of grabbing takeout later. Fancy joining?”
Takeout with Ella. An actual invitation. Maybe this was a chance to… I don’t know… connect. Diversion. Anything was better than the echoing loneliness of my dorm room.
“Yeah, sure. What time?”
The train ride was a blur of anxious thoughts. What did Ella actually do for work? She was always vague. “Consulting,” she’d say, with a dismissive wave of her hand. It paid well, that much was obvious. Her apartment was in a swanky part of town, all glass and steel and intimidating doormen.
Ella greeted me with a weary smile. She looked good. Too good, maybe. Her dress was tight, her heels impossibly high. The air hung thick with expensive perfume.
“Rough day?” I asked, trying to sound casual.
“You have no idea,” she sighed, leading me inside.
The apartment was sleek and minimalist. Art that probably cost more than my tuition hung on the walls. We ordered Chinese, the silence punctuated by the clatter of chopsticks and the muffled sounds of the city outside.
“So,” Ella said, finally breaking the quiet. “Tell me about these finals.”
I launched into a detailed explanation of differential equations, anything to avoid the unspoken questions hanging in the air. But then, halfway through explaining some complex theorem, I saw it.
A website on her open laptop. Partially obscured, but the image was unmistakable. A woman, posing provocatively. The words “Escort Services” were clearly visible.
My blood ran cold. My throat constricted. The room seemed to tilt.
“Ella,” I croaked, my voice barely a whisper. “What… what is that?”
Her face paled. She slammed the laptop shut. The click echoed in the sudden silence.
“It’s nothing,” she said, her voice tight. “Just… work.”
“Work? That’s… that’s an escort website.”
She didn’t deny it. Her silence was confirmation enough.
The takeout suddenly tasted like ash. My carefully constructed image of my sister shattered into a million pieces. I felt a cocktail of shock, disgust, and… something else. Something I didn’t want to acknowledge.
“How… how long?” I managed to ask.
“It doesn’t matter, Craig. It’s my life. It has nothing to do with you.”
“Nothing to do with me? You’re my sister!”
“And you’re a kid. A naive kid who needs to focus on his studies and stay out of my business.”
I stood up, knocking over my chair. The clatter seemed deafening.
“I’m going,” I said, my voice shaking.
“Fine,” she snapped. “Go. Pretend you didn’t see anything.”
I turned to leave, but the words caught in my throat. The desperation that had been simmering inside me for months finally boiled over.
“Wait,” I said, my voice hoarse.
She turned, her expression a mixture of anger and… something else. Pity?
“What, Craig? What could you possibly want to say?”
This was insane. Utterly, completely insane. But I couldn’t stop myself.
“Could I… could I hire you?” The words tumbled out, a shameful confession.
Her face hardened. “Absolutely not. That’s disgusting. Don’t ever ask me that again.”
“Please, Ella. I… I’m desperate. I don’t know what else to do.”
“Grow up, Craig! Find a girlfriend. Go to a bar. Do anything but this.”
“I can’t! I’m not like you. I’m not… good at that stuff.”
“Then learn! Don’t come crawling to me for this. It’s wrong. It’s… it’s incestuous, even if it’s not technically incest.”
“I know it’s wrong,” I pleaded. “But I… I need this. Please, Ella. I’ll pay you. I have some money saved up.”
She stared at me, her eyes filled with a mixture of disgust and something I couldn’t quite decipher. Maybe… sadness?
“How much?” she asked, her voice barely a whisper.
“I… I don’t know. How much do you charge?”
She turned away, pacing the room. The silence stretched, thick and suffocating.
“I can’t believe I’m even considering this,” she muttered.
“Please, Ella.”
Finally, she stopped pacing and turned to face me. Her expression was cold, devoid of emotion.
“Six hundred pounds,” she said, her voice flat.
My heart leaped into my throat. Six hundred pounds. It was almost everything I had.
“Okay,” I said, my voice trembling. “Okay, I can do that.”
She closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and let it out slowly.
“Six hundred pounds will get you a quick blowjob and vaginal sex. Nothing else. No kissing. No cuddling. No talking. Just… that.”
The clinical detachment of her words was almost more painful than the rejection. This wasn’t about intimacy. It was a transaction. A desperate, shameful transaction.
But I was past the point of caring. I was drowning, and she was offering me a lifeline, however twisted and damaged it might be. “Okay” I replied. “When can we do it, I can go to the bank now and get you the money. I might not last long I… I am a virgin. So can we do it twice if I cum quick.”
“Can’t believe we are having this conversation fucking hell,” she sighed. “Fine, cum once with a blowjob and then vaginal sex.” She dropped to her knees and started to undo my jeans and took out my cock. “We will do this now, ill drive you to the bank after for payment. First ill suck you and then…” she sighed, “you can have sex with me on the bed.”
She wrapped her lips around me, and coherent thought fled. Her mouth was hot and wet and perfect. She bobbed her head, taking me deep. I fisted my hands in her hair, fighting the urge to buck into her face.
She made a muffled noise of protest and pulled back. I looked down at her, eyes glazed with lust, my dick slipping from her mouth.
“Eyes on the ceiling,” she said primly, wiping her lips. “I’m not your girlfriend. Don’t make this weird.”
I nodded mutely, staring up at the plaster as she returned to her task. Her tongue swirled around the head, teasing the slit. I bit back a whimper.
She took me into her mouth again, deeper this time. The wet heat enveloped me, her throat fluttering around my cock. I panted harshly, trying to hold back the tide rising in my balls.
But I couldn’t last. Not after so long without relief. Without warning, I spilled into her mouth, spurting thick and fast. She gagged a little but didn’t pull away, swallowing around me.
I slumped back against the wall, spent and shaking. That was… wow. Better than any fantasy.
Ella released me and stood, wiping her mouth. She looked up at me, expression unreadable.
“Was that good for you?” she asked. Like we were discussing the weather.
“Uh. Yeah. Yeah, it was great.”
“Good. Now, you’ve got about an hour left. I assume you still want the other part of our deal?”
“Y-yeah,” I said nervously hoping my cock would get hard again. I followed her to the bedroom as she stripped from the waist down. She laid on the bed with her legs open.
I shifted closer to her, my hand hovering hesitantly over her hip. Her skin was warm, smooth under my touch. I leaned in, my lips brushing against her neck. It was a tentative, clumsy kiss.
She stiffened. “No kissing, Craig. Remember the rules.”
I pulled back like I’d been burned. “Sorry,” I mumbled, my face burning with embarrassment.
She sighed, a long, weary sound. Then, finally, she turned her head and looked at me. Her eyes were still cold, but there was something else there now, a flicker of… resignation? Or maybe just tiredness.
“Just get it over with,” she said quietly.
I lowered myself, guiding my cock to her entrance. It was wet, slick, and surprisingly easy to enter. There was a moment of resistance, a gentle pop as my hymen broke, and then I was inside her.
It didn’t hurt much, just a strange pressure, a stretching sensation. The discomfort was more mental than physical, the weight of the situation pressing down on me.
I started to move, slowly at first, pushing in and out. Ella remained passive, her body still and unresponsive beneath me. There were no moans, no gasps, no reactions at all. It was like fucking a corpse.
The thought sent a shiver of revulsion through me. Is this what she did every time? Just lay there, numb, while strangers used her body? How could she bear it? How could she detach herself so completely?
My movements became faster, more frantic. I was trying to feel something, anything, but it was all muted, muffled by the layers of wrongness and shame. My body was responding, moving mechanically, but my mind was racing, filled with a thousand questions and a tidal wave of guilt.
I looked down at her face. Her eyes were closed now, her expression serene, almost peaceful. Was she pretending to be somewhere else? Blocking out the reality of the situation? Or was she truly empty inside, devoid of feeling?
I wanted to stop. I wanted to pull out, to apologize, to run away and pretend this whole thing never happened. But I couldn’t. I had paid for this. I had asked for this. And somehow, in a twisted, perverse way, I still needed this.
Needed to experience sex, even if it was like this. Needed to feel something, even if it was just this hollow, empty act. Needed to break through the wall of my virginity, even if it was with the most forbidden person imaginable.
I thrust harder, faster, driven by a desperate need for release, for oblivion. My breath came in ragged gasps. Sweat plastered my hair to my forehead.
Still, Ella remained silent. Unmoving. A statue carved from ice.
And then, something shifted. As I pounded into her, I felt a subtle change in her body. A slight tensing of her muscles, a barely perceptible tightening around me. Her breathing deepened, becoming a little faster.
Was she… reacting? Was she feeling something? Or was it just my imagination, desperate for a sign, any sign, that she wasn’t completely shut down?
I pushed harder, driven by a flicker of hope. Maybe, just maybe, there was something human left in her, buried beneath the layers of detachment and professionalism.
And then, a sound. A small, involuntary gasp escaped her lips. Her eyes flickered open, staring up at the ceiling.
Another gasp, a little louder this time. Her body arched slightly beneath me. Her fingers, which had been lying limp on the sheets, clenched into fists.
“Oh…” The sound was barely audible, a whisper of breath. But it was there. A sound that wasn’t forced, wasn’t practiced, wasn’t part of the act.
Hope surged through me, a dangerous, intoxicating rush. Was she feeling it? Was I breaking through her defenses? Was there a chance, just a tiny chance, that this could be something more than just a transaction?
I kept going, driven by this fragile spark of hope, pushing harder, faster, my own climax building. And then, the moans started. Soft at first, hesitant, like they were being dragged unwillingly from her throat.
“Ugh… Craig…” My name, whispered, breathed, a sound I hadn’t expected to hear, a sound that sent a jolt of electricity through me.
The moans grew louder, more insistent. Her body started to move with mine, no longer passive, but responding, reacting. Her hips lifted to meet my thrusts. Her fingernails dug into my back.
The change was incredible, breathtaking. It was like watching a statue come to life, a robot suddenly developing emotions. The transformation was so sudden, so unexpected, it was almost jarring.
But I didn’t care. I was lost in the moment, caught up in the sensation, in the unexpected connection that was forming between us. For those few precious moments, it wasn’t just a transaction. It was… something else. Something messy and complicated and forbidden, but something real.
My climax hit me like a tidal wave. I groaned, my body convulsing, spilling inside her, hot and thick. Ella cried out, her body tightening around me, her moans reaching a fever pitch.
And then, it was over. I collapsed on top of her, panting, my heart hammering in my chest. The silence descended again, heavy and thick, broken only by our ragged breathing.
I lifted myself off her, rolling onto my back. The world swam back into focus, the reality of the situation crashing down on me again. The moment of connection, of something almost real, was gone, vanished like a dream.
Ella lay beside me, her chest rising and falling rapidly. Her eyes were closed again, her face pale, her lips slightly parted. She looked… exhausted. And strangely vulnerable.
I wanted to reach out to her, to touch her, to say something, anything. But the words wouldn’t come. The shame and awkwardness had returned, stronger than ever.
After a long, suffocating silence, Ella finally spoke, her voice hoarse, barely a whisper.
“Get dressed, Craig.”
It was a dismissal. A curt, cold end to our transaction. The brief flicker of humanity was extinguished, replaced by the wall of detachment she had erected around herself.
I scrambled off the bed, grabbing my clothes. I dressed quickly, avoiding her gaze, feeling like a criminal caught in the act.
When I was dressed, I turned to face her. She was sitting up now, pulling the sheets around her body, her expression once again blank and unreadable.
“Did… did you…?” I stammered, unable to find the words to express what I wanted to ask. Did she feel anything? Was any of that real? Or was it just another performance, another trick of her trade?
She looked at me, her eyes cold, hard. “Did I what, Craig?”
“Did you… did you… feel anything?” The question hung in the air, pathetic and desperate.
She stared at me for a long moment, her silence stretching, agonizing. And then, finally, she spoke, her voice flat, devoid of any inflection.
“It’s six hundred pounds, Craig. Not a therapy session. Let’s get ready and we will go to the bank. I swear you better keep this between us.”
Her words were like a slap in the face, cold and brutal. They shattered the fragile illusion, the fleeting hope that something real had happened between us. It was just business. Always just business.
I nodded, my throat tight with unshed tears. “Right. Of course.”
Later that night after paying for her service I was at home. Mom had made me lasagne for tea. I got a text from Ella which said, “I feel bad for taking 600 off of you, I normally charge £300. So I can give you £300 back if you want.”
I couldn’t stop thinking about me fucking her and I took a deep breath and texted back, “Or I could have another session 😈🤩🍆💦.”
“for fuck sake Craig, one minute. So you been a tech nerd how good at you with online. Like websites and you know making profiles. I might do a deal with you, 🍆💦.”
“Deal. I’m better with tech stuff than sex, for sure.” I shot back, the emojis a pale disguise for the intensity of my desire.
A moment later, the reply blinked back: “bro stop, it was your first time ever. But okay, let’s do this smartly. Meet me tomorrow. Bring your laptop.”
Sleep eluded me that night, the mix of guilt, excitement, and trepidation a storm in my chest. Yet, the morning found me at her doorstep, laptop in hand, heart in my throat.
Ella answered, her demeanor businesslike, but a flicker of something else behind her eyes. “Let’s get to work,” she said briskly, leading me to a sleek desk overlooking the city.
We sat, the glow of the screen casting shadows on our faces. I focused on the task, guiding my fingers through code while she dictated her needs. A new website, sleek and discreet, untouchable by the prying eyes of the world. A place for her to conduct her… business.
As the hours ticked by, the silence between us was no longer awkward, but charged. It wasn’t just the clicking of keys or the hum of the computer. There was a new energy, a current that ran beneath our professional veneer.
“Break time,” she announced, standing up and stretching. The movement was graceful, unintentionally enticing, and my eyes, unbidden, followed the curves outlined by her tight top.
Ella glanced back, catching the direction of my gaze, and a ghost of a smirk touched her lips. “Keep it together, Craig. We’ve got work to do.”
I nodded, feeling the flush rise to my cheeks but unable to tear my eyes away. She moved to the kitchen, the sound of the fridge opening and bottles clinking, a brief reprieve from the tension.
She returned with two beers, handing me one, her fingers brushing mine. The touch was fleeting, but electric.
“Here, to calm those nerves,” she said, her voice softer now, less the icy professional and more… human.
I took a long swig, feeling the cold liquid slide down my throat, easing the tightness. She sipped from hers, eyes locked on mine, a challenge and an invitation all at once.
The air around us shifted, the atmosphere thick with possibilities. As we sipped, the sounds of the city outside seemed to fade, and all that was left was the thrum of anticipation, the quiet rustle of our breathing, the faint clink of glass against glass.
“Okay,” she began, setting her bottle down with purpose. “Let’s talk shop. Your skills… impressive. What if I gave you a side hustle? Helping me with the tech side, keeping the site secure, up-to-date?”
My heart skipped a beat. A side hustle with Ella. It was more than I dared hope for. More than just another transaction, another shameful secret.
“Really?” The eagerness in my voice was undeniable.
“Really,” she affirmed, leaning in, her voice a hushed whisper. “But you have to promise, Craig. This stays between us. No one else can know.”
I nodded, the gravity of her offer sinking in. “I promise. I’ll do whatever it takes.”
The deal was struck, the tension between us snapping like a live wire. We returned to the laptop, our fingers moving in tandem, a dance of code and strategy. But beneath it all, a new understanding bloomed—a connection forged in the most forbidden of ways.
As the sun dipped below the towering glass and steel, casting the room in a golden glow, we wrapped up. The site, sleek and hidden, was ready. I stood, my eyes catching hers, the air charged between us.
“Thanks, Craig. You’ve been… unexpected,” she said. The word hung in the air, laden with meaning.
I swallowed, my throat dry. “You too, Ella. I… I never expected this.”
She stepped closer, the distance between us narrowing to a crackle. “You know, for everything you’ve done today,” she murmured, her breath warm against my ear, “I think you’ve earned something more.”
The promise in her voice was unmistakable. My heart pounded, loud in the silence.
She took my hand, leading me away from the desk, away from the sterile glow of the screens, toward the bedroom. This time, there was no hesitation, no rules, no cold detachment. Just Ella, guiding me.
We stood at the edge of the bed, and she turned to face me, her eyes alight with a spark I hadn’t seen before. The air hummed with a different kind of electricity now, one of mutual desire.
Ella’s fingers found the hem of her top, pulling it over her head in one fluid motion. Her breasts, freed, were a sight to behold – full and soft in the dimming light, nipples peaking invitingly. My breath hitched as she reached behind and unclasped her bra, letting it slide off her shoulders, revealing more of her flawless skin.
“Today, it’s not just business,” she whispered, stepping into me, her body pressing against mine. The heat of her skin seeped through my clothes, igniting a fire that had smoldered since our last encounter.
I reached out, my hands trembling slightly, and cupped her breasts, feeling their weight, the warmth, the softness. It was a sensation more potent than any code or calculation. She let out a soft sigh, her head tilting back, encouraging my touch.
My thumb traced her nipples, feeling them harden under my caress. Ella’s eyes fluttered closed, a silent invitation. I leaned in, my lips finding hers in a kiss that was nothing like the rules of before. This was hungry, urgent, full of unspoken promises.
She broke the kiss, a smirk playing on her lips. “Remember, Craig, no rules tonight,” she murmured, her hands already at my belt, yanking it open with a decisive tug.
The sound of my zipper coming down was loud in the quiet room, a harbinger of what was to come. Her hands slid into my jeans, pushing them and my boxers down in a swift motion, freeing my already eager cock.
Ella dropped to her knees, her gaze locking with mine. Not a hint of professionalism now, just raw desire reflected back at me. She licked her lips, and the anticipation was maddening.
With a slow, deliberate movement, she took my length into her mouth, the wet heat enveloping me in a way that made my knees weak. The sensation was like nothing before – more intense, more real, with the sounds of her sucking, the slurping noises filling the room. Each bob of her head was a symphony, her tongue swirling, teasing.
I groaned, the sensation so overwhelming, so different from the mechanical routine of before. This was about connection, about the union of two people finally giving in to the tension that had bound us.
Ella pulled back, a trail of saliva connecting her lips to my tip. “You’ve learned fast,” she teased, standing and shoving me gently onto the bed. My heart raced as she stepped out of her skirt, revealing the smooth expanse of her legs, her gash glistening with want.
She climbed on top of me, her movements deliberate, guiding my cock to her entrance. There was no resistance this time, just a slick, welcoming warmth. The sound as she sank down, taking me in, was a wet hush, a squelch that echoed our need.
Ella began to ride me, her hips moving with a rhythm that was all hers, a dance she knew well. I watched, mesmerized, as she lost herself in pleasure, her body undulating above mine. The slapping of our skin, the rhythmic thwack of our bodies joining, filled the room with a sound that was primal, raw.
“Fuck, Ella,” I breathed out, my hands gripping her hips, pulling her down harder, deeper. She threw her head back, a moan escaping, the sound unrestrained.
As Ella continued her relentless rhythm atop me, her movements grew more fervent, more urgent — a stark contrast to the mechanical detachment of our previous encounter. Each bounce on my cock was a symphony of skin against skin, a beautiful, rhythmic slap that echoed through the room, mingling with her unrestrained moans. The air was thick with the scent of our mingling desires, the sounds of our bodies colliding in a dance as old as time.
Her breasts jiggled with the force of her movements, a mesmerizing sight above me, nipples hard and pointing, inviting my touch. I reached up, cupping them firmly, feeling their weight and warmth, eliciting a sharp gasp from her. The connection was electric, the intimacy raw and unfiltered, the kind we’d skirted around before.
Her eyes, locked with mine, were ablaze with a hunger I’d never seen, a far cry from the cold professionalism she’d donned. “You like that?” she panted, her voice a husky whisper that sent a shiver down my spine.
“God, yes,” I managed, my hands now gripping her ass, pulling her down onto me with each downward thrust, the firmness of her flesh under my palms driving my need higher.
Ella’s rhythm intensified, her hips slamming down with a force that made the bed creak beneath us. The sounds of our lovemaking – the squelch of my cock plunging in and out of her slick, tight pussy, the slap of skin, her breathy moans, my grunts – it was all so real, so visceral, so intoxicatingly raw.
She leaned forward, her hair cascading around us, her breath hot against my ear. “Harder, Craig,” she commanded, her voice laced with need.
I obliged, the bounce of her body now a blur, the wet, slick sounds of my cock sliding in and out of her a continuous, maddening rhythm, like a hungry mouth devouring its fill. Her moans grew louder, more insistent, her nails digging into my chest as she took what she wanted, what she needed.
The bed rocked beneath us, a testament to our fervor. Her pussy gripped me tightly, slick with her arousal, welcoming me deeper with each plunge, the sensation overwhelming. I was lost in her, in the way she moved, in the way she demanded more, her body a live wire of pleasure above me.
Her breaths came in harsh gasps, her moans a crescendo as she rode me faster, harder. “Right there, Craig… oh fuck, right there!” Her words spurred me on, my hips meeting hers with a ferocity that matched her hunger.
I could feel her tightening around me, her muscles clenching in waves of impending climax, her breathing ragged. The sensation pushed me to the edge, my own release building, coiling tight in my gut.
Ella’s eyes, wild with abandon, met mine, a silent plea, a shared understanding — we were both teetering on the brink. “Now, Craig… now!” she cried out, her voice a plea and a command.
With a final, desperate thrust, we tumbled over the edge together, her pussy pulsating around my cock, milking my release in hot, thick spurts. My groan mingled with her moans as her juices leaked out of her cunt and down my shaft pooling at my balls.
The aftermath was a stillness, heavy with the mingling scents of our sweat and the echo of our shared climax. Ella collapsed against me, her breaths hot and ragged against my neck. For the first time, there was no barrier, no icy layer of professionalism in her touch. Just Ella, naked and spent, her heart pounding against mine.
We lay intertwined, the silence between us no longer awkward, but filled with a newfound intimacy. The city lights outside painted streaks of neon through the bedroom, casting a soft glow over our entangled bodies. I brushed a strand of hair from her face, the gesture tender, and she smiled, a real, unguarded smile.
“That was… different,” she murmured, her voice a mix of satisfaction and something deeper, something almost like gratitude.
“Different,” I echoed, my own voice barely above a whisper. It was an understatement. This wasn’t just sex; it was something that had cracked open the shell we’d both worn, revealing something raw and unexpected beneath.
Ella shifted, her body still pressed against mine, her eyes searching mine. “Remember, Craig, this stays between us. But… maybe we can make this a regular thing? Your tech skills, my… services. Mutual benefits.”
I nodded, the idea both thrilling and terrifying. “Yes, as long as it’s like this. Not just… business.”
She nodded, her expression softening. “Not just business. I think I… enjoyed breaking the rules with you.”
As we lay there, the warmth of our bodies mingling, a sense of connection blossomed, something that went beyond the transactional. It felt right, despite the twisted path that had led us here.
Eventually, we separated, the air cooling where our skin had touched. Ella rose, stretching languidly, a cat after a satisfying hunt. “Shower?” she offered, a mischievous glint in her eye.
I followed, the water cascading over us, washing away the evidence of our tryst. The steam enveloped us, a cocoon of privacy. She washed me gently, her hands exploring, caressing, the soap a slick barrier between our skin, but not enough to dull the sensation of her touch. I returned the favor, my hands tracing the curves of her body, memorizing every dip and swell, the water making her skin glisten.
Clean and wrapped in soft towels, we retired to the living room, the air between us light, easy. Ella opened her laptop once more, this time showing me the hidden site, now a testament to our collaboration. “You’ve got a talent for this, Craig. I can pay you… and other benefits,” she winked, the playfulness a stark contrast to her earlier detachment.