penelope
 mf


Penelope Pleasants

Robert's handwriting was barely legible and my hand shook as I tried to read
the numbers he'd written. I dialed them quickly, thinking about what he'd
said as I did so. "You need something special, and since you're such a good
friend, I'm going to share something special with you. Keep in mind though
that she is special and not to be treated like other whores. Not that you
even know how to treat a whore." "I'm sorry, I'm currently unavailable. If
you would like to leave you're name and number, I will get back to you as
quickly as possible." Yeah right--special. "Uh, my name is Andrew C------
and I was told that I might be interested in seeing you. If you could please
call me back, I'd appreciate it." It wasn't until after I'd hung-up that I
remembered I hadn't left my phone number. Robert was like a brother to me.
He was what kept me together after the death of--(It doesn't matter.) Even
though we were close and there was nothing that I wouldn't do for him
(including going through with his plan to make me happy again), I knew
little about him. He never answered any personal questions. I didn't even
know how he made his money. The money that was to pay for my evening. I'd
asked Robert what was so special about this girl, but he refused to answer.
I called her machine back--even though under normal circumstances, I
wouldn't have, but I was curious--and left my name again, but this time
insured that I included my number. Immediately after I hung up the phone it
rang. "Hello?" "This is an interactive message for Andrew C------," a
computer generated voice said. "Penelope Pleasants is unable to converse
with you personally at this time. If you would like to arrange an encounter
press 'one.' If you would like--" I couldn't believe this! I pressed one,
without waiting for my other options. "Please wait for the tone, then leave
your address and several times that are convenient for you. You will be
called back with confirmation." I did as instructed and moments after I
again hung-up the phone rang and the same monotonous computer voice told me
that Penelope Pleasants would be at my place that evening at 7:00 p.m. to
spend the evening. The one button was again pushed to confirm that this was
acceptable. Her rates were quoted (the amount is none of your business as it
was Robert's money) and I was told to have the cash ready. The clock said I
had two hours to get ready. I took Penelope's money out of my wallet,
setting the wad on a stereo speaker, then I ordered food to be delivered at
7:15. For some reason this was all coming naturally to me. This was to be my
first visit by a prostitute (and my first sexual encounter in over a year),
and I was unsure of what to expect. There was nothing to do but wait. So I
killed time by showering and shaving. When I was finished I dressed, sat in
my living room, turned on the TV, rejected that as an entertainment option,
turned off the TV, turned on my stereo, put in "Pornography," by THE CURE,
and closed my eyes. The knock came quickly and quietly. "Come in," I called
out. The door opened and Penelope walked in. I'd half expected her to look
like the typical prostitute, but she did not. Her hair was a soft brown and
flowed down her shoulders to the middle of her back. She was wearing a
simple blouse and tight button-fly blue jeans. I took no notice of her
shoes, so I can only tell you that they were unremarkable. She closed the
door behind her. "Hello," I said. I was beginning to wonder why Robert had
thought that this woman was so good. From looking at her there was nothing
untoward--nothing spectacular--she didn't stick out in any way. In fact, if
I'd seen her in public, I'd probably have over-looked her. She was skinny
with medium sized breasts, and while she did seem proportioned, her hips
were subtle and almost boyish. She looked exactly like your average pleasant
college girl. She must be amazing at sex, I decided, as I knew Robert would
never deliberately lead me wrong. "Hello," I repeated. She remained silent.
"Your money's on the stereo speaker, if that's what you're waiting for."
Indeed, she did take the money and put it in her purse. She then withdrew a
small pad and a pen. *Hello,* she wrote, then she showed me the pad. Big
bold strokes. "You can talk if you want. I promise, my place isn't bugged.
Well, unless my mother did it." A smile spread across her face at my sad
attempt at humor, but she did not laugh or make any other sound. *I can't
talk.* Penelope used a fat black felt-tipped marker to write with, so she
was only able to fit a few words to a page. I noticed then that her pad only
had a few pages left. Unless I wanted to scramble for things for her to
write on, I would have to conserve my questions. "Listen, you're not some
kind of handicapped person, doing tricks--god I hate that word--to make
enough money for an operation or something, are you? 'Cause you can just
take the money and go now, if that's true. I couldn't live with the guilt."
*No silly. Nothing like that. And I'm not handicapped!* two pages to say
nine words. Suddenly, her arms were around me and we found ourselves on the
floor. /Sharp and open. Leave me alone. I'm sleeping less every night,/ the
music filled the background. I fumbled with the first few buttons of her
blouse as she expertly undid my belt. Then, predictably, came the knock. I'd
forgotten. I got up, removed my belt completely and threw it behind the
couch. Penelope sat on the floor and for the first time I noticed the size
of her eyes. Almost grotesque in a fashion, like Japanese anima. Her pupils
were dilated and I could not tell the color of her eyes. She looked scared
and sexually excited. The knock came again. "Don't worry," I said. "I
ordered food before you came." I answered the door, paid the delivery boy,
tipping well, and once again went back into my house. "Do you like Chinese
food? At least I think it's Chinese. Some kind of oriental anyway." She
reached for her pad. "No, just nod your head. Don't waste the paper." It was
worth my money just to see this doe-eyed beauty nod. We ate, but I do not
feel like relating any particulars of the meal. Needless to say, we enjoyed
the food, each other's company, and both of us got enough. "Now where were
we?" And again she was in my arms. I felt like tearing her clothes from her,
but instead tortured myself by undoing her blouse buttons slowly. White
material fluttered to the carpeted floor and I was left staring at her bare
breasts. She'd been wearing no bra, so she bore no strap marks. Her breasts
were smaller than I'd thought, but not by much. They were tanned (naturally
or not, I do not know) and her nipples were a soft red. I'd never seen
nipples the color of hers before. I cupped one breast in each of my hands
and kissed each nipple. She made no sounds. My hands undid her jeans, and as
I pulled them down around her ankles, I kneeled before her. She wasn't
wearing any panties either, but then I hadn't expected to see any. Her pussy
was cleanly shaved and appeared as only a slit. I kissed it and touched it
gently. Her silence was disturbing me. I wanted to hear groans or gasps, but
even Penelope's breathing was silent. I was tempted to thrust a finger into
her violently, just to see her reaction, but I resisted, as I recalled
Robert's warning not to treat her like a whore. Besides, it was only a
fleeting idea, as I wanted this woman to feel special. Her pussy lips
flooded with blood and became swollen and open. I licked her shaved opening,
wondering who had done this for her. Did she have some lover that she
trusted this well, or did she have some method of shaving that she was able
to do by herself? In the end, it mattered little. I stood and took off my
clothes. Now, we were both naked. As I had done for her, Penelope kneeled
and took my cock into her silent mouth. Unlike my gentle teases though, she
brought serious pleasures to bear. I almost came in her mouth. "Stop," I
commanded and she did. "Lay back." Again she obeyed. I was uncomfortable in
the role of master though, and even though I'd paid for her compliance, I
decided to give no more orders. She held out her hands and her body was an
open invitation which I gladly accepted. She received my thrust noiselessly
(besides the sounds of physical contact that is). She raised her hips, not
only to make it easier for me, but so that it would be more pleasurable for
her. A look bordering on anguish crossed her face, but I knew she was not in
pain. Her breasts heaved as she inhaled and exhaled quickly. I was amazed at
this sight and by the fact that she was able to do so quietly. I felt her
cunt tighten around me in weak little spasms, but I was able to refrain from
coming myself. It was not often that I found myself in the embrace of a
woman and I was fearful that this would be my only time this night. I wanted
to make it worth it. I would have to thank Robert, I thought, as I fucked
this woman. Then I banished all thoughts of him and concentrated on the
woman in front of me. Penelope Pleasants. Had to be an assumed name, but I
didn't care. Sweat covered her body making it easy for our flesh to slide
together. She'd already had one orgasm (or faked well) and I wanted, more
than anything, to give her another. We were in the traditional missionary
position and I was getting tired of it. My leg muscles were not used to such
exertions. I rolled us over so that Penelope was on top. I was glad I'd
decided to do this. She ground herself into me and I could feel her insides
as she moved around on my cock. She began to bounce just a little, being
careful not to come completely off of my cock. A few times we awkwardly came
apart, but this just made our reunion that much sweeter. Penetration. As I
slid in and out of her, I questioned her ability (even though I was in the
dominate position). She did not seem to be as talented as I expected. I was
expecting some kind of professional. This just seemed like regular sex
(which was great). Even when she was sucking me, it was almost as if she
hadn't done it often. She'd gone at it with much abandon, but she lacked the
skill that I'd expected. Then it struck me, I was looking a gift whore in
the mouth. Robert had given me the money and the number. I was starting to
grow suspicious, but of what I wasn't sure. Then, I ceased to care. Her
breasts hung above me and I reached up and touched them, taking a nipple
between forefinger and thumb of each hand. I squeezed lightly. I pulled on
her nipples, stretching them, so that her breasts became cone shaped.
Penelope had her eyes closed, her face betraying her pleasure. Her nipples
stiffened as I twisted them slightly. Soon they became as two little stones
under my mild torture. I opened my mouth and instinctively Penelope place a
breast against my lips. I drew the hardened end into my mouth and suckled
like a babe. For a moment, I imagined that she made a small whimper at this.
I playfully bit her nipple and with both hands I reached around and grabbed
her ass. On her next descent, I forced her down onto me even further. At the
same time I bit a little harder. She wince and I actually heard the intake
of breath. "I wish you could speak," I said. Immediately I felt bad about
having expressed such an impossible desire. It wasn't her fault that she
couldn't talk. No matter the intensity of my wish, it would pale compared to
hers. Twin tears started down her face and Penelope ceased her gyrations. "I
am so sorry," I said. "I was being insensitive." I thought she'd stop then
but with my apology she renewed her efforts but with more intensity. She
became as possessed then and I was afraid she would hurt me. Her tits
bounced around like two independent animals and her nails dug cruelly into
my chest. I noticed for the first time that they were well manicured and
painted a dark red. She drew blood, but I didn't mind--barely even noticing.
Her pussy was drenched and her wetness was escaping onto my body. I reached
down and massaged her clit with my thumb. I began to come then. In
uncontrollable waves my orgasm over-took me, the room darkened, and I could
no longer hear the music. The stimulation my cock was receiving actually had
me a little scared. This fear only added to the sensations that were pushing
me over the edge. Still Penelope did not cease her movements, but rather
increased her tempo (I had not thought it possible). Once again her plain
but pleasant face took on a look of extreme torment and I knew she was once
again coming. Every muscle in her body tightened. I could see her neck
become corded and red and her cunt clamped hard around my cock. "Oh, God!" I
cried out. Penelope collapsed on top of me and for a short moment I thought
that perhaps she had died. She was still breathing though. I could feel the
rise and fall of her chest and I could see her heartbeat as it pulsed hard
in her neck. I kissed her there and tasted the salt of her sweat. Our bodies
were glued together by the liquids of our exertions. I wanted us to be
together forever. I saw no need to part. It was then that I noticed that I
could feel, through her breasts, the very same heartbeat that I was watching
throb in her neck. The disc quit then and we lay together in silence.

Later, we showered separately. Then climbed into bed together when we were
done. *Would you like to have sex again?* she wrote. "Yes, but it's not
going to happen. You've exhausted me, and I thank you for it." She smiled
and shrugged and I turned out the lights. In the dark I clumsily groped her
breasts and when I dropped a hand between her legs, she spread them,
allowing me easy access to her pussy. I was unable to see what I was
touching, but the soft folds of flesh excited me all the same. I kissed the
valley between her breasts, working my way down until my face was even with
her navel. I kissed this also. Slowly, I caressed with my lips, and
occasionally licked, as I brought my mouth down to her bare pussy. All the
while, I was fingering her. My tongue did slow circles at the top of her
pussy as I teased a finger up inside her. I was unsure as to why I was doing
this (I wasn't even sure she'd allow it). I wanted to give her back some
pleasure for all that she'd given me. I gradually increased my pace, over a
period of some minutes, until suddenly, and unexpectedly she began to buck
her hips wildly as through she were trying to get away from me. For a second
I thought I heard her whisper, "Yes," but then I realized that this had to
be my wish, imposing on reality. Penelope moved away from me then, but I
kept my mouth firmly attached to her place of pleasure, my tongue darting
back and forth across her swollen clitoris. Because I know that ecstasy can
quickly become an unwelcome burden, I stopped, but only after I was sure
she'd had enough. Even after she settled down, I did not remove my mouth
from her damp slit, bestowing several soft kisses instead. Once again, I
joined her at her side and we snuggled in close to each other and she put
her lips to mine and moved them as if she was forming words. Even though no
sounds came forth, I imagined that she was saying, "I love you." I thought
of my wallet and the few valuables that I owned, but even as I came to the
conclusion that this woman was welcome to anything I had, I fell asleep with
her in my arms. My last waking thought was fear that perhaps she would be
gone when I woke. That night I had several erotic dreams, but dreams are
private, so I won't share them.

*Good morning.* This message was written on her last piece of paper.
Penelope's hair hung strategically over her breasts, concealing them from my
view (mostly). This was good, as it kept me from staring. As it was, my eyes
fell to her crotch and I tried to picture her with hair there. She seemed so
natural bare, that I was unable to imagine her with even a light patch of
downy hairs. "I guess you only have the back side of that to write anything
else that needs to be said. Listen, I want to thank you for last night.
Robert was right, you are special, and I would very much like to see you
again," I said as I leaned in for a kiss, but she dodged my advance. "I
understand. My time is up. Well, you're welcome to stay as long as you like.
I would like to tip you. I assume that is acceptable? I'm unsure of these
things." I found myself babbling as she dressed. She'd brought along a small
sports bag. In it there was a whole set of clean clothes (the inside of the
bag had to be larger than the outside). "Can I pay for tonight too? I'm not
ready to let you disappear out of my life. Not yet. you're the only pleasant
thing that's happened to me for as long as I can remember." *I want--* she
wrote, but then she was out of room. "Want? Want what?" Tears again trailed
down her face and I was left wondering what to do. She did not wipe them
away, but rather allowed them to descend her face in twin signals of sorrow.
"I am so sorry," I said. "I will get you something to write on. Wait here."
Penelope reacted violently to this idea, grasping my hand and pulling me
tightly into her. We embraced hard enough to make breathing difficult. "What
is it that you want?" I asked, knowing full well that she could not answer.
My face was buried into the base of her neck and I too began to cry, but I
knew why I was crying. I was crying at the death of a loved one and at the
very idea of loss. I released it all in waves of mourning. Shuddering sobs
shook Penelope's small frame, making me feel powerless. More than anything,
I wanted to relieve this woman's pain as she'd done for me. Penelope wadded
the piece of notebook paper into a ball and thrust it in my face with a
tight fist. I took her hand and again pulled her in for a close hug. "I want
to tell you the truth," she spoke in my ear. I knew I hadn't imagined it,
but still I could not believe. "What?" I pulled back to look into her face.
"The truth. I want to tell you the truth. Don't look so amazed. Yes, I can
talk," Penelope said. "I know everything about you. Robert told me how you
retreated after your wife died. He told me everything about you and
convinced me to do this whole affair. The muteness was my idea. We were
afraid that you would be too nervous and ask questions that I couldn't
answer. Please say something." Ignoring her request, I remained silent. What
was there to say? "The money was mine," she said. "The computer, a trick set
up by Robert. I'm so sorry if this hurts you. Believe me, to hurt you was
not our intention." "Then you're not a--" the word stuck in my mouth. "A
whore? No, and I thank you for not treating me like one." "You and Robert?"
"Good friends. Not that I wouldn't welcome more. There's nothing I wouldn't
do for that man, but we're only friends." Unsure of myself, I again embraced
her and found myself kissing her face. My lips touched her closed eyes and I
tasted salt from her body for a second time. She pushed me back onto the
bed. "This one's on the house," she said.