Last Update: 16.08.2022

This story had originally been written as a quick "bonus story" for a writing prompt from me in another subreddit. It was meant as "thank you" for the people liking and responding to it, but since the story got longer than planned, I decided not to include it there and instead posting it here. I hope you like it!

Kink Content: Cum in hair, escort, doggy style

This is a Backup-Repost!

A quick glance to the clock on the wall did tell her that she was already short on time. As usual finishing the make-up and doing the very last bit of it took her longer than expected. Well, to some degree it was not that unexpected, but to her defense: this time the tight time schedule was not really her fault. She actually didn't have any plans to leave the house for today, but a phone call from her best friend Abby suddenly had changed everything and the result was actually the opposite of what she had planned.

It was just two hours ago when she received that call. "It is an emergency", she was told by Abby with a clearly worried voice. One of her family members had been brought to the hospital and since she did not provide any further details, it must have been very likely something unsuspected and serious. Besides informing her friend, another reason why she had reached out for Elizabeth was an upcoming scheduled meeting with one of her most trusted clients today. She of course knew about that as they always kept each other up-to-date in regard of any appointments with their clients primarily due to safety reasons. Furthermore, they never worked on the same day, so it was guaranteed that the other one would always be available by phone in case anything happened or some kind of emergency occurred.

Now with the current circumstances, Abby attending today's meet-up was practically impossible. Usually this would have been a case to reschedule the meeting with the client, but this time it was not that simple. First of all, it was not just a random client, he was a long-time client, who she not only liked very much, but also to whom Abby felt a particular sense of duty. And secondly, since that client was working most of the time in a year abroad, this appointment had been planned for long in advance and canceling it at such a short notice would inevitably be a huge disappointment, let alone the losses in resources for the preparation. It probably wouldn't have been a problem calling it off as the client was an emphatic person, but the truth was that Abby really liked him as person and simply didn't want to do that.

After a couple of minutes of brainstorming and discussing the alternatives, the only somewhat imaginable solution to avoid cancellation was to let someone take over her place. This was something they - the consent of the client provided - very rarely did and it was nothing Elizabeth was really fond of because she would be then faced with expectations from the client side in which she wasn't involved during the "preparation phase". But she knew about the strong ties between those two, one probably could even say that Abby had some kind of romantic admiration towards him, as she always was thrilled and charmed for a couple of days without exception after those encounters with this particular client.

Finally after some further minutes of thoughtful thinking Elizabeth did come to the decision of helping her friend out. Just when she had hung up the phone and began to go for the preparations, she realized that she actually did not know much about the client, although Abby had told her about him numerous times. Precisely she did know nothing about his preferences in regard of the "service part" which undoubtedly played usually a big role in this kind of appointments. What she did know was mostly personal stuff, like his personality and what kind of things he did in life. He was a bit more like a crush the best friend would have (and who could not stop talking constantly about him all the time) than a client. And that was definitely not a typical relationship between an escort and her client.

Since she didn't want to disturb Abby with a call during that emergency, she simply decided to wear an classic elegant black dress which was shoulder-free and generally a good choice for many types of meetings. She knew that the client usually did set a high value on tasteful styling, and with a dinner being planned at his home, her outfit seemed to be a pretty decent choice for that kind of event. The only thing Abby actually had emphasized during the call appearance-wise was the necessity of having the hair perfectly styled, which luckily was doable despite the available short time for preparation as Elizabeth had already washed her hair and giving it the usual treatment routine by applying oils, lotions and other stuff on the morning (which she normally did on her day off as she had more time on her hands).

Although it was already time to leave the house and catch the train, she couldn't help herself by going through her long black hair a few more times with the hair brush like she wanted to make sure that everything was perfect. The shiny reflection of it in the mirror always had a mesmerizing impact on her. It was like the manifestation (or display) of flawlessly to her which was oddly satisfying and something she usually didn't feel in connection of the rest of her body. She always had been passionate about taking care of her hair, and undeniably she felt like it was a really important part of her identity for which she felt the urge to preserve. And in some of way the shiny result of her efforts also served in a way like an anchor when dealing with any other insecurities tied to her body. It made her feel confident which helped a lot when dealing with everyday (or even unpleasant) situations.

She finally left the house and hurried to the train station. She arrived there in the nick of time and was able to catch the train which would stop somewhere relatively close to the desired destination. The residence of the client was actually not that far away from her home - maybe something about twenty minutes away - but in a way more upper class part of the city. With enough motivation and time it probably would have been possible to go there by walk, but using the public transportation was convenient and definitely more time efficient, let alone less torturing than walking in heels for such a long distance. Just when she was satisfied that everything was going by plan, the train unexpectedly stopped right before it's final stop. "Great ...", she mumbled with a hearable sigh, "... why does that only happen when the time is crucial, but never when I'm way too early or have no appointment?"

With every minute passing, she could feel how nervousness started to spread inside her mind. Being late to the "first date" was something which could overshadow everything with an uneasy vibe from the start. That was the reason why she always tried to avoid that at any cost; even more in this particular case where the favorite client of her best friend was involved. She caught herself nervously unlocking her smartphone and checking the time a few times like this would help the train moving again. Not having the client's number (and calling her friend be an last resort option) did of course not really help her to calm down. She did her best to suppress the urge to start complaining about the unreliable train operating company to her nearby seatmates, who probably would have known that well-known fact anyway.

After a stay of about 15 minutes and no way out, the train finally started moving again. To her relief that was somewhat within the buffer she had planned for the distance. By going as fast as the heels would allow it, she finally reached the desired destination just about one minute before the agreed time. "Yes. Yes. Elizabeth is as reliable as a Swiss watch!", she complimented herself a bit self-congratulatory while she made a last check on her outfit before pressing the door bell. As she was waiting the door to be opened, her eyes took a glance at the neighborhood. It was one of the upper class districts of the city with luxurious houses surrounded by big gardens meticulously planned next to each other. Interestingly the house of the client looked a bit displaced as it was smaller and notably older than the others. It was like one of those houses which gave the impression that they always had been there and which weren't going to change for the next decades. Maybe the house was somewhat outdated looking compared to the other present ones, but undeniably it had its own special little charm.

"Oh, good evening. You must be Elizabeth...", a man dressed in an elegant suit opened the door. Unlike most of suits which were mono-colored this one had an exotic design: several silhouettes in a gold/silver-combination were scattered on it, which was very tasteful from an aesthetic point of view. Her attention was stuck on it for a few moments, until she realized that he, like in one of the old movies of the black/white cinematic era, was gallantly offering her his hand to walk her into the house. Admittedly flattered by this chivalry gesture, she accepted it by laying her hand inside his, and with his guiding she crossed the doorstep and entered the house.

The inside of the house was completely the opposite to it's outside appearance. The only thing that matched was unsurprisingly it's size (no spatial distortions here like in the fairy tales), but aside from that the style of the interior was way more glamorous than one would have ever expected from such a cozy little house. With art objects everywhere and a mix of alternating cultural styles, it definitely had an special overwhelming vibe. Soon after a little chitchat she was able to solve the "secret" of this museum: He was not a wanted cat burglar, most of the stuff simply did originate from the places he had worked in the past few years.

Apparently he always liked to get in touch with the local culture and learn about the customs and practices, which was really something interesting to listen to, as he was able to provide some delightful facts and trivia linked to any piece of art which was displayed there. He usually would start his explanations with the words "Did you know that ...", which made her feel like talking with an living encyclopedia. Not only did that make the conversation interesting and delightful, it also aroused her in some particular way. They would walk from art piece to the next one, and whenever she saw something interesting (which was the case nearly every time), she would point with the glass in her hand (which he had offered her right after the entering the house) at that exhibit which then would automatically trigger some insightful and eloquent trivia from his side.

Just when she had moved to the front of a newly discovered waist-high crate (which appeared to be from some African country due it's decorations), she suddenly felt his hands gently touching and finally wrapping around her waist. "I'm really terribly sorry for ... being so blunt", he started in a clear embarrassed voice, "... but it's been more than two months I have not ... relieved myself. Would you mind if we ... just do it now?" She was a bit surprised, but not because of the request itself - after all that was the essence of meeting with an escort most of the times - it was more because of the timing. Usually a romantic and well-thought evening would precede it, but on the other hand it wasn't that unusual for clients to get straight to the point. Judging from his face expression, however, she was sure that his plans originally had been different in the scheduling: very likely first a nice dinner (as she could see the prepared cutlery on the table), probably followed by a nice talking afterwards, until getting finally to the more explicit part of this appointment.

She turned the head over her shoulder so she could see his face. He was looking at her with a mix of desire, plead and uncomfortableness which was somehow cute. And admittedly, his eloquent remarks regarding the displayed art pieces from before had aroused her further, which she felt at this very moment. She always had a weak spot for well educated men, and this one clearly wanted her in this very particular moment. After a couple of seconds of intense stare (building up some anticipation was always a good tool to use ...), she finally reacted to his request by simply putting a strand of her hair behind the ear, taking a sip from her drink at the same time, followed by a classy glance which was finished with a nod which she had copied from an actress of one of those beloved older black and white movies.

His face did lighten up in an instant. He looked excited like someone who had just been told about a big win in the lottery. And in the very next moment, she could already feel how one of his hands tried pressing her upper body gently down so she would bend on the crate, while the other one pulled the dress upwards. He didn't waste any time as his erected cock found it's way inside her from behind shortly her being in the desired position. His pelvic thrusts were surprisingly powerful and it didn't take long and she could feel how her body was trembling under that continuous force (while the precious object below her accompanied those trusts with noticeable creaking). This clearly did confirm his statement from before of not having a sexual intercourse for quite a long time - and his somewhat unsuccessful futile attempts to slow down his speed were a sign that he probably had not even masturbated during that time. From the first thrust on he looked like he was already about to explode, but somehow his self discipline miraculously managed to avoid that.

The way this manifestation of pure lust did release itself in constant rhythmic moves made her body shiver in ecstatic sensation. She could feel how every thrust made her wanting more of it. Adding to this intimate pleasure was the whole situation in which she was receiving the penetration: with valuable art everywhere surrounding her, she felt like being in a museum. And that was a setting for a sexual intercourse pretty much left for the fantasy as it was very unlikely to be experienced in real life: A place where the inspiring and beautiful products from sophisticated cultures would be paired in a dichotomy with the raw instincts from ancient times. With that thought and the surrounding impressions she couldn't help herself than simply just let pleasure rush through her mind and indulge in this groggy like mind-state.

Just when she was about to become completely absorbed in that blissful state, she felt his hand on her shoulder. He was trying to pull her upper body into his direction downwards which she did abide without any resistance. It was very common for men wanting to finish into her mouth, so she was used to a fast position change even in the very last moment. In her thoughts she was already prepared for the classic "cum-in-her-mouth"-setting which was very popular in contemporary porn, but to her surprise his hand suddenly stopped her head from turning. With now looking sideways, the gap between his erected dick and her head was small, but too far for her mouth when she did hear a big moan as he unloaded himself on her long dark hair next to her cheek. She could feel how several thick loads did land on her black hair; and whenever she thought that he had finished, another shot of his semen did get on her hair. She never had someone cum in her hair (at least not on purpose), so the weight of his cum in her hair was quite unfamiliar. Usually it was something that only did occur as an accidental byproduct of a facial.

She automatically reached with her arm towards a tissue box, which was standing on a counter near them. When she was about to release a tissue, she could hear his trembling voice which still was marked by pleasure. "Please ... don't ... let it" His words made her movement stop and with a surprised look she turn her head around towards him. She was puzzled at first, but that state of confusion didn't last longer than a second as she remembered how Abby had emphasized this clients affectation for pretty hair. Elizabeth always thought that he was just a person who was fond of pretty hair styles, but considering all those clues and putting them together (plus her having his cum in the hair at this very moment ...) it was undoubtedly something working as major sexual attraction to him. With that knowledge this kind of kink she had just witnessed was definitely no surprise at all.

With an amused smile she pushed the tissue back to the box, while her other hand grabbed the end of that part of her hair, where he had released his sticky load. With a smirk on her face she reallocated those strands on her shoulder so it would show the best view of his "artwork". "So you like it, when it's on the hair, don't you?", she asked him with a tempting voice. The deep breath she received in combination with his utterly overwhelmed face expression which clearly was filled with passion was answer enough. The fulfilling of his fantasy sure did take some toll on him as he was only able to reply with a shy nod. He hastily grabbed his pants and pulled them upwards. To admit this particular kink was obviously something which was not easy for him and noticeable shyness seemed to take over him. This was quite odd from how she had experienced him so far. "I ... I'm going to prepare our dinner" he hastily said in a low and apologetic voice and without waiting for her reaction, he already headed towards the kitchen.

"This would be wonderful! Your fantastic cooking skills were always a highly praise and I have heard nothing else than admiring compliments about them ..." she replied clearly amused to break the awkwardness and did finally press herself up with the help of the crate. When she pulled her panties up, she was a little bit lost in the thought how this little episode had been so contrary different to the rest of the night so far. Her hands tried to smooth down the lower part of her dress, but as this didn't really work out, she approached the big mirror at the wall to make adjustments of her outfit easier. It took her a few attempts, but eventually she managed to get the dress in perfect condition again. Luckily (and to her relief), it had not become dirty or soaked with his cum.

The mirror reflection of her dressed extraordinarily elegant and standing within the artful background, made her look like one of those oil paintings which would hang around in the library room of a wealthy mansion. She couldn't resist by getting into one of those classic poses models of those paintings usually would be in. To pretend being the display of such a artwork was admittedly appealing to her. "Here I am, the curse broke! I have finally escaped from the picture frame!", she giggled amused, followed by a small pause when her eyes noticed the cum on her hair, " ... with a white blob." It looked like the artist had accidentally dropped that color on the precious painting and decided to go with it instead of risking to mess up the masterpiece by trying to fix the ruined hair part.

Normally she would have been upset, or at least disgruntled, since she just had washed her hair the very same morning. But the context and his obvious passion for this kind of kink surprisingly (and for a strange kind of reason) didn't make her feel like that at all. She couldn't help but even feel a little bit aroused by the way he did look at her now being "cummed up". He was behaving like a man who tried not look at a busty woman's breast, and who was not good at it: The more he tried not to stare and avoid looking at the cum in her hair, the more obvious it was - and the more fun of course it would be catching him staring.

She spent a while in front of the mirror trying to style her hair in a way which would allow the result of his unleashed lust be displayed in the most arousing way. His cum stuck between the strands of her hair made her feel unexpected satisfactory. Before that incident she probably never would have thought that this kind of stuff would be even appealing at all, but that new experience seemed to question that. His cum was like a trophy she, and only she had received, and which was now visible to the rest of the whole world in a poetic kind of sense.

She decided to make her hair rest on the front of her left shoulder, so he had no choice than looking at it whenever he dared to glaze in her direction. Besides it was the best way to keep an eye on the cum so it didn't mess up her dress or anything else valuable in the room. Just when she had finished styling her hair and was about to reach after her drink, he entered the room with a joyful face expression. "Dinner is ready! May I ask the Lady to grace us with her presence at the banquet?" He did a formal bow and did raise his hand as an offer to accompany her to the table. She couldn't hold back a giggle, replied then on her behalf formally with a little curtsey as a sign of agreement.

The dinner he had prepared was spectacular. It was mix of different food from various countries he had been and contained a lot of things which were exotic and new to her. She tasted fruit which she had not known that even existed. It was a culinary expedition to various parts of the world, and his background stories about the food or the country they were native was like listening to a fascinating documentary. The eloquent way he spoke, his witty remarks and exciting stories made the meal so intense and memorable. She felt like she could listen to him for hours, and what she really appreciated in that regard was his willingness to interact with her (and not just talking by himself all the time like other people would do). He was not somebody who wanted to brag with his knowledge or experiences, on contrary, he seemed to be genuinely interested about her questions and remarks, no matter how simple and basic they were. It was one of those conversations where she could feel how the time was passing by fast, but where one would intentionally avoid looking at the watch so one would not get into the position to know how late it actually was. And of course hoping that the other person wouldn't notice either, so they could talk forever.

During that exchange of thoughts she could perceive how his eyes occasionally would wander to the cum drained part of her hair where they would then rest like mesmerized for a few seconds. And when he "woke up" from the hypnosis, it was like he just had become aware of it, which would make him then to point at a random art piece in the room to replace the perceived awkward situation with a story he could share. The more this happened, the more she couldn't deny that his passion for that kink made her feel intrigued. Sometimes, when she could see how he was struggling not to look at the cum in her hair, she would intentionally ask him a question in a way which would make him look towards her. And when she had his "visual attention", she would then let her hand run through that particular spot, pretending this being absolutely subconsciously of course. This treatment did unsurprisingly always yield to a slow down of his stream of words for a few seconds, sometimes even stutter. The way he reacted to this - it was like a genuine reflex - was admittedly a turn on. It was like she had found that particular magical item which was able to bind him and against which he had no resistance at all.

The chirping of the birds from outside made her finally become consciously aware of the time. Even though she didn't want this perfect dinner to end, it would have to end at some point and this was the right moment for it. With a bit of regret she decided that it was time to leave. She thanked him for the wonderful and truly unique experience and his sweet words and thankful remarks in return did assure that he felt similar: a night which had been something special to both of them.

She declined his gallant offer to call her a taxi; it was a nice warm morning with the sun starting to shine, simply perfectly to walk down home. She gave him a kiss on his cheek as goodbye, and just when she passed the doorstep, a warmth and satisfying feeling did rush through her.

What a beautiful day!