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From: billyboiiiiiii@yahoo.com (bill johnson)
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NNTP-Posting-Date: 1 May 2002 13:19:15 GMT
Subject: {ASSM} Repost, Sean and Moger, Part 1
Date: Wed,  1 May 2002 19:10:04 -0400
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Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories
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The Story of Sean and Moger, Part 1

Warning: This story describes a graphic sexual situation, so you must
be 18 or over to read. Thank you very much. I know that every 15 year
old boy who is reading this warning will click off.

*     *     *     *

UUUHHHHH. UUUUUH. OH. OH. UHHHHHH. UHHHHHHHH. OHHH. OHHHHH. UHHHHHHH.
AHHHHHHHHHH. OH. OH. UHHHHHHH.  AHHHHHH.

The sounds of a cheesy pornographic movie. God, they are so truly
fake. I was in a hotel room in New York on a Tuesday night, the first
of a two-night stay, with a business presentation to make on
Wednesday. I was to return home on an early Thursday flight, so it was
going to be two nights of living out of my suitcase and tipping
bellhops for bringing my food.

There was something about being in hotel rooms that made me desire
those seedy flicks. I never watched them at home. Really, I didn't.
There was something about checking in, stripping completely naked, and
watching the adult channels while toying with my penis on top of a
tightly made bed for several hours. It became a ritual every night I
spent away on business.

Since the divorce I found myself getting almost all of my sexual
gratification by masturbating, or by picking up a one-night-stand
occasionally in a singles bar. Really nothing unusual for a divorced,
upwardly mobile 26 year old man. I had one girl friend, but the
incompatibilities were such that we mutually decided to call it quits
after a couple of months. I haven't been seriously dating anyone
since.

The movie was so bad and ridiculous that I couldn't even maintain my
boner. I wasted my time flipping through some of the other adult
channels. I only found more of the same lousy acting with no plot.
Just shapely buxom ladies and men with obvious Viagra-induced
erections acting like they were enjoying their time together. Shit on
it. I clicked it off and decided to just turn in early.

I put my naked body under the covers, though, and began to think about
a scene from one of the movies. A chick was sucking some guy off. My
cock got hard thinking about it, as I found myself longing for a good,
old fashioned blow job. It had been years since I had had one, back
when I was married one night when my wife wanted to buy something. She
sucked me off in her efforts to convince me. It felt really good.
After she got her way she informed me that it grossed her out, though,
and she never did it again.

I got to thinking. This is New York, after all. I could hire a hooker
to suck me off. I got to seriously thinking about it. Man, the
excitement of living on the edge, of getting a prostitute to exercise
the "oldest profession" on my personage. I did not hesitate. I got up
and dressed, grabbed my hotel key card, a twenty and a ten, and went
out to the street.

I just stood against a building near the hotel and waited for one to
approach me. I had been propositioned before, but had always turned
them down. Tonight I was ready to give it a try. A fancy dressed man
wearing a white suit jacket and glasses with little circular
red-lenses approached me.

"Waiting for somebody?" It was obvious that he was a pimp.

"I'm waiting for Lewinsky."  I tried to sound nonchalant, and still
send the correct signal.

"I got one who gives good face. Thirty bucks."

"Sounds good. How's it work?"

"Show me your key card."

I showed him, and he wrote down the number.

"Sit in the hotel bar and order a drink. She'll meet you there. You
have 45 minutes total. She needs to go through the lobby and out to
the street before the time is up. She knows when to end it, and to
collect before she leaves. There are lookouts. If she isn't walking
through the lobby at the right time, you'll be tagged."

I didn't know what he meant by that, and I really didn't want to.

He continued. "Listen man, I run a clean operation, and you're new.
There are some guys who think they can shit on me and get away with
not paying or roughing up one of my girls. That ain't gonna happen.
You got it?"

"Yeah, sure, man. Hey, I just want my flute played, that's all. No
ulterior motives."

"Well, good, then. Enjoy yourself. Her name is Moger. Remember, you
got 45 minutes from the time she meets you ."

What kind of a name is Moger? Man, this sure is a well-oiled machine
this guy is running. I didn't know there was such organization
involved, but I understood the safeguards he was taking. I went into
the bar and ordered a rum and coke without the rum. The waitress just
laughed and brought me the coke.

"May I sit here?" A sweet, gentle southern voice spoke behind me. I
turned to look upon a beautiful young lady. She looked a little
younger than me, maybe 21 or 22 years old. She had frizzed and teased
blonde hair and make up that was heavy on the blush.

"Are you Moger?"

She nodded and smiled. 

"My name's Sean. No need to sit. Let's go." I left a five on the table
and escorted her to the elevator. There were others in the elevator,
so we did not speak. When it stopped on my floor I led her to my room,
slipped in the key card and opened the door.

Inside she wasted no time. She unbuttoned my shirt, and unhooked and
unzipped my pants, lowering them. She slid down my briefs and sat me
on the side of the bed. My cock was half erect. She kissed me on the
chest, and gradually kissed her way down .

She got on her knees beside the bed. She took the flat of her hand and
stroked the tips of my pubic hairs. That made my manhood stand at full
attention. She took it in hand and slid my cut cockhead into her
mouth. I laid back. It didn't take long before I was ready to blow my
load.

She eased up on the fellatio and slid her hands alongside my waist
while pressing my cockhead against the roof of her mouth with her
tongue. This was incredible. She certainly was a pro.

She began pressing her tongue hard against it. Her head bobbed up and
down as her tightly closed lips slid over the most sensitive parts of
my penis. She even gently worked the tender underside of my cockhead 
with her teeth. I could stand it no more.

She pinched hard on the base of my dick. I began to cum, but the
pinching held it in. That caused the ecstasy to surge and hold. Then
it waned. I was craving an orgasm more than I ever had. She took it in
her mouth and worked it in earnest. I was just lying there helplessly
moaning. Finally it was time.

My entire midsection violently jerked  as each shot of semen fired
into her mouth. She sucked each drop out of me, and I just lay like a
beached jellyfish, drained of all energy. I didn't know or even care
if she swallowed.

She said, "There. How was it?"

"Oh, shit...  Man....  Oh shit..." A plastic surgeon couldn't have removed
my smile.

"That must mean you liked it." Her southern accent was sweet. She had
not undressed. She was wearing a yellow silk dress. I sat up and
looked at her. Her face was ragged and she looked like she had a tough
life.

"It was great, honey, it was the best I ever had. Of any kind." I
gazed into her eyes. There was something inside her that was more
attractive than her whorehouse look. "Moger, right?"

"Actually it's a nickname. A nurse in the hospital nursery where I was
born was this uppity British woman. My mom named me Margaret, and the
nurse pronounced it `MOE-garet' in her deep English accent. My mom
thought it was cute and funny, and since she was also a Margaret, she
kept it as a nickname. It stuck, and after all of these years that`s
all I'm known by. That'll be $30, sir." She was so cute when she told
the story.

I stood and stepped out of my pants and briefs. I handed her the two
bills from my pants pocket. "We still have some time, how much extra
would you charge for a nice hug and kiss?"

"You can tip me, Hun." She smiled and threw her arms around me,
locking her lips on mine. I was naked from the waist down, and my
unbuttoned shirt was still on. I could detect the taste of my semen in
her mouth. I embraced her back, and she danced her tongue inside my
mouth. She squeezed my naked butt cheeks and smacked the kiss to a
finale. Then she came out of the embrace.  She had a warm smile on her
face. I went to the dresser and took a five out of my wallet. She took
it as I led her to the door.

Before I opened it, she said, "If you need me again, just find Lionel
on the street. He'll hook you up." She gave me a small kiss on the
cheek. "That one's a freebie. Bye, Hun."

I opened the door and, being naked, stood on the hinge side so I could
not be seen from the hall. God, she was so sweet. I always was under
the impression that whores were hard and uncaring.
 
I slipped off my shirt and got in between the sheets naked. It was
after midnight, and I needed to be sharp the next morning. I didn't go
right to sleep, though. I kept thinking about that sweet girl and
those eyes. That was not a sex machine or object that I was with. She
was a human being. A warm and kind young lady. I drifted off to sleep.

The presentation went flawless. Chalk another one up for the
Sean-Meister. It's a gift. That's why the company flies me all over
the country and pays me a lot of money to do them. All through it,
though, I kept picturing Moger's eyes. Dinner was spent with a couple
of the muckety-mucks to close the deal out. My body was robotically
talking business with them, saying all of the right things as I
schmoozed up to them, but my mind was gazing into that sweet girl's
eyes. I was enthralled with her.

Afterwards I took a cab to the hotel. I didn't go inside, though. I
stood in the same spot, hoping Lionel would come up again. I wanted to
see Moger again. It seemed like an eternity, but it was only about 20
minutes when he basically came out of nowhere.

"How'd it go last night?"

"Incredible, man, incredible."

"I told you she gave good face."

"I want her again, but this time for the night."

"Wow, Mr. Big Spender. It'll cost you a cool 500. You willin' to put
out that kinda dough?"

"Give me a couple of hours to get the cash."

"Meet her same place at 9. She needs to walk out of the lobby by 7 AM
or we'll tag you."

I still didn't know what that meant, and still didn't want to. I went
to the hotel office and got the money from my American Express card. I
folded the five bills and slipped them into my front pocket. It was
7:30, so I went to the room, straightened up, and took a shower. I put
on clean underwear and the same dress shirt and pants I wore for the
presentation. I tied my tie, but left the suit coat off. Trying to
look "business casual", I loosened my tie a bit and unbuttoned the top
button. I was as nervous as someone getting ready for a first date.

It was 8:35 when I got to the lobby. There was a Yankees game on the
big screen, so I ordered a coke and silently rooted for the Red Sox.
At 9:00 sharp she came in. She was missing that warm smile.  She faked
a smile as she got closer, and I could tell. I stood as a gentleman,
and asked her to sit down. The waitress came and I ordered a refill on
my coke and she ordered a virgin strawberry daiquiri.

"You look troubled." I acted as if I had known her all my life. She
looked surprised. She had only been with me less than 40 minutes the
night before. I continued. "I am a professional pitch man. I get paid
well to read people. You look troubled."

A tear came to her eye. She dabbed it with her cocktail napkin. I
reached across the table and laid my hand on hers. "Are you OK?"

She nodded. "I'm sorry, Hun. It's just been a bad day. I'm not
supposed to bring my troubles to the `office'. I'm sorry. "

"It's alright. I wanted you back because I loved your genuineness. If
you fake, I'll know it in a heartbeat. Just be yourself." She calmed
down some as she realized she was in good hands for the night. I
patted her hand. The order came and we drank our drinks quietly.

In the room I sat her down on the stuffed chair and pulled a straight
chair near her and sat down. She looked surprised.

I looked at her and smiled. "You have such gorgeous eyes."

"Well, thank you." She smiled. "What do you want first?"

"Talk. Just talk." 

She laughed out loud. "You're paying me $500 to talk?"

"Does it matter?"

"No, I guess it doesn't. I've only done one other one-nighter. Some
old, rich guy. He brought me in and said, `Strip and lay back.'  That
was all he said to me the entire time. He climbed on top of me and
shot off as soon as he stuck it in. Then he went to sleep next to me.
When the wake-up call came at 6 he rolled on top of me and stuck it in
again, this time getting in 3 strokes before cumming. He silently
handed me the money as I got dressed, and that was it."

"I really just want to talk. Tell me, what was so bad about your day,
if you don't mind me getting personal."

She sat quietly. She had warmed up some as she sat, but her frown
quickly reappeared. "I'm not supposed to get personal with the Johns."

I smiled. "My name is Sean, not John. You can tell me anything." 

She smiled. Then she got serious. "So you just want to talk. That's
all?"

"I could've just jacked off if I wanted to get my rocks off. I want
your company, Moger. I was captivated by you last night, and it wasn't
your performance in the bed that did it. I am paying you so I can get
to know you. And remember, I can read people. It's my profession. I'll
know if you aren`t genuine. Now tell me what was bad about your day."

She breathed heavy. "We just came out of rehab, me and my roommate
Jennie, just a couple of weeks ago. Cocaine. It happens to so many in
this profession. But me and Jennie made a decision to go clean. We
saved our money and went into rehab. Lionel was real nice about giving
us the time. He doesn't like his girls to be junkies. We supported
each other, Jennie and me.  I came in our room this afternoon, though,
and she was high. Damn!"

What an awful story. "So soon? That's sad." It really was.

"That's not the saddest part. She still had 2 lines left on the
table." She began to break down. "I picked up the straw, and...threw it
down and ran out of the room. I came so close."  She cried. "It's just
a matter of time, and I'll be right back in it. It is. I know it."

I scooted over and put my arm around her. Her body language showed
that she trusted me, as she gave in to the embrace and didn't stiffen
up. She held on to me and didn't let go. She cried some more. "I was
born to be a whore and a junkie. That's my destiny."

I stood her up and let her cry on my shoulder. When she calmed I sat
her back down.

After a small amount of prodding, she began to tell me her life story.
She was born to a single mother in Detroit. Her mother married some
man when she was 5. The night after they returned from their honeymoon
her new step-father sneaked into her room and fucked her. That
continued for thirteen years, until she left home at 18. That is how
she became such a master at the blow job, because she learned early in
life on him. He always acted kindly to her, though, even though he was
a vicious perpetrator. She equated the kindness with the ability to
satisfy him sexually. Her mother knew what was going on the whole
time. She was a drunk, though, and looked the other way, because her
husband kept her supplied with booze.

Moger got on cocaine in high school. She became a serious addict, and
sold blow jobs on the street to earn drug money. It was rough. She was
beaten several times by some who didn't pay. She felt she got a break,
though, when she sucked off some fancy-dressed guy who took her to his
hotel room. He was so impressed that he brought her to move in with
him in his  New York home, where she became his full time live-in
whore. She lived fancy and `high on the hog' for two years. He kept
feeding her drug habit the whole time. He eventually tired of her and
kicked her out. That's when she met Lionel. She sucked him, and he
offered to bring her into his system. That was just a few weeks before
she and her roommate went to rehab.

She had no shame in being a whore. Giving sexual gratification to men
was all she ever knew, and after rehab she realized that the money was
too good to pass over. Lionel ran a decent operation. He protected his
girls, and he didn't enslave them. They could walk at any time, as
long as they didn't go independent on his turf.  He took 50% of the
receipts, and handled all of the solicitations. He operated at the
hotel they were in and the one across the street. All of the tricks
had to be turned in the rooms, and the girls had to be seen walking
out of the lobby at the right time, or else someone was going to be
knocking on the door.

I just listened as she related all of this. It was already 3:30 in the
morning. The time went by so quickly. Her warm smile returned as we
talked. I told her about my life and my job. I confessed that Sean is
actually my middle name, but Homer (I was named after my
great-grandfather) just doesn't cut it.  My company was based in
Independence, Missouri, where I lived. I flew out to make these
presentations several times a month, and the company basically paid me
to sit at a desk the rest of the time.
 
I ordered room service, breakfast, actually. After we ate a voice
inside me spoke. I got a wild idea, and I was confident that is was
the right thing to do.

"Come back to Missouri with me. I'm serious. Come back with me."

She looked shocked and did not speak. 

"I am SO sure that this is right. I always know it when I hear this
voice inside me. It is strange, but it is right. Come back to Missouri
and live with me. I know it. I know it. I know it. My inner voice is
always right."

She smiled, and spoke up. "It's crazy, but it sounds good. I'LL GO!" 
She clapped her hands and laughed with glee.

"Are you sure?"

"Hun, I'll be just like Jenny in no time if I stay here. I know it's
true. And...I'll admit it. I kind of fell for you last night. Us girls
of the night aren't supposed to get personal or attached, but I
couldn't help myself." She laughed sweetly.

"I liked you from the start, too. And it was more than the blow job,
as incredible as it was. You are very special, and I am sure that we
can make it work, and we can possibly build a future together. LET'S
DO IT!"

"OK!" And the deal was done. I called the airline and rebooked my
flight for later in the day, adding another ticket. We went out to the
street and she told Lionel of her plan. I gave him the whole 500,
without Moger keeping any of it. He was sad to see her go, but
understood that she was just a tick away from becoming a junkie again.
He was very kind about it, and kissed her `goodbye'.

We went back to the room and slept until 10:30. I packed my things,
and we went to her place, just a couple of blocks away, where she
packed up her meager belongings. Jenny was passed out on the bed. We
got in a cab and went to the airport.

*     *     *     *     *     *     *     *     *     *     *     *   
 *     *     *     *     *     *    *     *     *

To be continued in Sean and Moger, part 2

Please write with comments or questions, or links to my other
writings.
My email address is billyboiiiiiii@yahoo.com

-- 
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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