Wildcard: Volume One

“I need your help. I have the place to myself today, but I can’t even jack off. It hurts so bad,” I groan. This is probably the most embarrassing conversation Josh and I will ever have.

“Dude, I’m not yanking your—”

“I don’t mean you!” I interrupt, cringing. “I need you to hook me up with someone. Someone who might be able to help me out. Come on, man, I need this so bad.”

“Thank God. I thought you were asking me to—”

“Josh!”

“Fine, sorry, I’m sorry. Consider it done. Charlotte knows a girl over there who specializes in massage. I’m sure she’ll take care of you, if you know what I mean.” He chuckles.

“Josh,” I say with a groan, “I know what you mean. That’s why I called, remember? What’s her name? I’ll call the front desk to let her up when she gets here.”

“Eva Pierserre.”

“Okay. Thanks man. I owe you one.”

**

“Hello? Monsieur Ryder?”

“Uh, in here,” I yell, straightening out my sheets. A pretty brunette pokes her head through the open door. She smiles and steps into the room.

Holy shit, she’s hot.

She is wearing a short black skirt and a cream-colored silk shirt, which matches her cream heels perfectly. Her pale skin is striking against the deep, rich red of her lip-gloss. She smiles shyly at me and her gaze falls to the floor.

“Thanks for coming,” I say awkwardly. I have no idea what to do or say next. I’ve paid for sex before, but never when I was incapable of movement. This whole thing feels weird and embarrassing. I like to be in control, and right now, I’m anything but that.

“Injure?” she asks. Her delicate hands gently touch my side.

“My back,” I reply with a smile. “Sorry, my French is not good.”

“My English not good.” She giggles. “I do now?” she asks, raising her eyebrows as she gestures to my crotch.

Well, she’s straight to the point.

“Sure.” I grin. “Knock yourself out.”

She bites the edge of her lip and unbuttons her shirt. I stare as she unclips her bra and lays it on the end of the bed. Her large, perky breasts look almost too big for her petite frame, but I’m not complaining.

She smiles as she pulls back the sheet. Her fingers loop around my boxer shorts. This girl doesn’t mess around. I groan and lift myself off the bed, just enough for her to yank my shorts down. My manhood is already fully erect. She hides a giggle behind her hand.

What can I say? I’ve been ready for this for days.

“Bouche ou à la main?”

“Sorry?” I ask, and she giggles again.

“Mouth? Or Hand?” she repeats, this time in English. She runs her tongue over her bottom lip seductively. Like I need any seducing right now. I’m just about ready to explode.

“Mouth is great,” I say, with a little too much enthusiasm.

Oh God. Oh. Fuck. Me.

I groan as her lips wrap around the tip of my cock. My legs tense when her tongue curls around my shaft. She places her fingers around the base and takes the length of me into her mouth. I gasp. It’s near impossible for me not to thrust myself down her throat, but I can barely handle the pain when I’m stationary—I don’t want to risk messing this up.

“Fuck that feels good,” I moan. “Oh, God, yes.” I open my eyes and watch her as she works her mouth up and down my cock. I’m on the verge of exploding. My hands clutch at the sheets as I begin to climax. “Fuck,” I gasp.