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sensitive nipple between his fingers. Again, I feel my sense of self melt away in a blaze of pleasure. But this is a foreign pleasure. I don’t know how to use it.
    His tongue drags down, just barely drawing it past the outer rim of my rosebud, then flattens against me and licks up and over my drippings before opening his mouth wide and pressing down, sucking deeply on my pussy.  As he sucks, he rubs his tongue against me and I swell, opening to him. He reaches his hands under me and pulls me into his mouth, driving his tongue deep inside.  It’s long and I can feel it work its way up inside me. He flicks his tongue in and out, like a small, sensual penis. He swirls around, careful to lick every inch of me that he can reach. My body trembles with the sensation and my hands fly down and clasp the back of his head, running my fingers through his thick hair.
    My pussy convulses around him as his strong tongue licks me from the inside. My feet dig into the bed, the cool sheets moving against my feet and legs as my body fills with heat. He presses his tongue hard against the inside of my pussy, then drags out and up.  I have a moment of despair as he leaves my needy hole, but I’m thrown back into the thought-erasing heat of pleasure as the tip of his tongue flicks against my clit.
    He attacks my engorged little nub, flicking and circling around it. I feel the inevitable orgasm welling within me. It’s burning deep and spreading outwards through my body and limbs. His tongue flattens and he licks me in long, deep slurps, dipping his tongue in and drawing it out and over my clit in one smooth motion. He does this again and again, in rapid succession until my whole body tenses and the wave of pleasure finally stretches out to the tips of my fingers and the ends of my hair and I explode in the blinding ecstasy of an awesome orgasm.
    I press him away again and try to force him onto his back. But he’s far too large, too strong—he doesn’t move unless he wants to. He relents in mercy, but quickly crawls on top of me. I reach down and grasp his powerful dick.  It pulses, hard and warm, in my little hand as I pull it to the entrance of my desperate sex.
    Julius’s eyes narrow and he growls. I feel a shiver shoot through me.
    Then, he closes his eyes and slows his breathing. “Wait,” he says.
    “What?” Did I fuck up? I’d panicked as he ate me out. I couldn’t think.
    He rolls off of me, onto his back, and lays there, sprawled. He doesn’t look angry.
    “Julius? What’s the matter?”
    “Fuck.” He takes a long breath. “Fuck, Cal.”
    I’m worried. I’m worried because I’m worried about him. I worry about food, warm clothes, making a buck. I don’t worry about people. But I’m worried about Julius—and that’s worrying.
    “I need to tell you something, Cal. But I’m not sure if I should.”
    “What is it? You can trust me.”
    He rolls over so he is on top of me again. He’s soft now, but his body still radiates energy. “How do you feel about me?”
    I balk. I can barely understand the question. “I… You’re a great customer. You’re wonderful. I enjoy the time I spend with you more than anyone else.”
    “But that’s it? A customer?”
    “What do you want me to say, Julius?” My eyebrows knit and I can feel my lips purse in stark refusal.
    “Whatever’s true.” He’s staring into me, his dark pupils like drills.
    “I’m a fucking whore, for chrissake! What do you want from me?” Subconsciously I hope this will stop the line of questioning that I’m afraid to follow much further.
    He stares, unspeaking—yet anything but silent.
    “You want to know that I’ve been wondering where the hell you’ve been for a year! You want to know that every time I’m at this Hotel I watch the television just so I can see what you’re up to! When I got out of the car and saw you standing there I felt weak. I felt things that I don’t know how to describe.”
    He smiles softly, brushing my hair