Code, Upload, Refresh, Edit, Code, Upload, Refresh, Edit... and so it goes. That's the life of web developer. The good thing is that this can be done anywhere with an internet connection. Today I was out of the office and at a little web cafe downtown. It was nice to be in a more relaxed atmosphere, sipping my chai latte and making some lovely web pages.
You know that feeling on the back of your neck when you know someone's watching you? It took me a while to realize that it was nagging at me since I was so in the 'zone' working. I wished that I had one of those geeky rear view mirrors on my laptop so I could see who was spying on me without turning my head. Instead, I played it 'cool' and went back to the counter for a refill. Glancing around casually as I could, I noticed a stunning woman.
She had incredibly long legs and I wondered how tall she was naturally. I knew that her height would be boosted by the thick heels of her black boots. Black seemed to be her main wardrobe choice as it comprised her stockings, her skirt, her blouse, and the elbow-length gloves. It was also the color of her wild hairdo that stood out in fronds like an electrified palm tree. The black set off how pale her skin was, as did the blood red slash of her lipstick.
She was reading a Joyce Carol Oates book but I caught her eye when she looked up. Great. Now I looked like the person staring at her, rather than vice versa. I smiled and looked away.
Back at my laptop, she waited a few minutes before striding over and asking if the seat next to me was taken. Indeed, she was very tall. Her voice was higher than I imagined, almost childlike. She had a slight lisp that came from her big smile. I nodded and she took a chair.
She began asking me about web development and asked if I freelanced. She had a site that she needed building. I suppressed a sigh. Web development is typically viewed by the general public as either being hardcore voodoo or so simplistically simple that anyone can do it. I prefer the people that think it's voodoo as they don't start throwing out phrases like, "I build my whole site in FrontPage." However, the voodoo people often think that making a website can be done by some ritual sacrifice and waving a magic wand. It's difficult to the layman but a walk in the park for the high priests and priestesses of the web.
That said, I tend to not freelance much. It's the rare person who appreciates that the lion's share of web development is getting all of the information possible up front in order to create specifications and stick to those. Too many people want to say, "Oh, and I want a page that does this..." when the build is 90% done. And, too many think that web development is all about attention-grabbing. "Can you make that animate?" is the question so many of us dread to hear.
I started giving this attractive lady my spiel about needing to define her business objectives and writing out an outline of all the things her site would need before we even proceeded. To my surprise she took a notebook out of her oversized purse and asked, "Like this?" She laid out an entire site map along with pages of copy that had been heavily edited. I was amazed. And I was more than a little baffled as I started to read what her site was about.
"Yes... something exactly like that."
"I've been working on this site it my head for the last few months but haven't taken the plunge to get it built. Would you be willing to help me? What are your rates?"
I usually work with clients whose product I like and try to work out a favorable agreement in trade. I told her that and added, "But I don't know what you do, yet."
She gave a hearty belly laugh, doubling over and covering her mouth with her hands to try to stifle it. Finally, her laughter subsided and she wiped her eyes of tears. She opened her notebook to another page and told me to look it over and that she'd be back after getting some more coffee.
The page was filled with a lot of terms and acronyms I couldn't get my head around. There were mentions of "Greek," "French," "Russian," and other things that didn't seem like salad dressing though much of the page seemed like a menu. "GFE," "PSE," "BDSM" were listed in one column with numbers in another. Meanwhile, terms like "DATY," "DFK," and "MSOG," were listed in another area. It might as well have been written in Sanskrit for as much sense as I made out of it and, upon her return, I told her as much.
"I know you don't know me yet but if you trust me, I can assure you that you'll figure it all out and will love the way I pay you," she said with a large smile. I don't know why I did it but I shook her hand and introduced her to her new web developer.
Her name is Zoe. She's got a lot of tattoos under those black clothes. I found that out the next day as she sat next to me in her living room. I tend to insist on working with the client around in order to have immediate answers and feedback. I found out about the tattoos from the photos on Zoe's computer that she was sending to me via email. They were of her in various states of undress.
Things finally started to clear up for me when I began populating pages and came across this statement: "Money exchanged is for companionship and modeling services only. Anything else that may occur is a matter of personal choice between two or more consenting adults of legal age, and is not contracted for, nor is it requested to be contracted for or compensated for in any manner. This is not an offer for prostitution."
I read those words and lifted my head to see Zoe already looking at me, a smile playing around the corners of her mouth. I said, "You're...."
Seeing me struggling for words she finished my sentence, "An escort. No moral objections, I hope?"
"No, none at all. I find that rather admirable and, well, rather intriguing."
"Go ahead and ask me anything. I'm going to take notes and see if there's anything I can use for my Frequently Asked Questions page," she chuckled.
I spent the next hour or more haranguing her with questions; everything from safe sex to protocol to troublesome clients. Zoe answered everything with candor. The last question I had for her was the toughest of them all.
"So, when you said that you were... how did you... we talked a bit about payment?" I asked, fumbling over the words, afraid of being gauche.
Zoe smiled. She took the gum out of her mouth and put it on the rim of her coffee cup. She stood up--looming over me, even without her heels on--and came over to my chair. She swiveled me to face her before dropping to her knees. She looked into my eyes as her hands worked my belt, pants button, and zipper. By the time she took my penis out of my underwear it was already completely hard. She kept her eyes locked with mine as she started to stroke me.
"Do you want the nice French or can you take more?"
Not exactly sure what she meant by that I volunteered a fact that I hadn't shared with anyone else before, "I... I don't mind some teeth."
Her eyebrows raised and she smiled widely. "Okay, you tell me if it gets too intense. And, before you ask, you're allowed to cum in my mouth if you want."
She lowered her mouth to my cock and took it all into her mouth. She began getting it as wet as she could, taking it out and spitting on it before licking it up one side and down the other. I'd never been spit on but I found it vaguely erotic to watch as she lubricated me this way. Normally I felt self-conscious watching as I received oral sex but I knew that Zoe not only wanted me to watch but that she enjoyed being looked at as she worked my cock like a pro.
She stuffed so much of my cock into her mouth that she also put my balls inside. She breathed through her nose as I felt her tongue slipping under my balls and back over them. She slurped and gagged a bit before taking it out again. She looked up at me as she slipped just the head into her mouth. I felt the slight bite from her teeth. I nodded and she bit down harder. I nodded again and she slid her teeth down the length of my cock, scratching and biting all the way. It felt painful but, oddly, pleasing at the same time. Down at the base of my cock, Zoe bit hard and sucked harder, creating a vacuum around me that caused her cheeks to sink in.
I never usually do this, but I put my hands in her dyed black hair and held her in that position. She began to gag and I loosened my grip. She reached up quickly and pushed one of my hands against her head, letting me know that I was okay. I held her down as she gurgled and bit harder, I knew that she was telling me that she was still in charge of the scenario even though my cock was down her throat. She nodded her head a bit and I let go of her hair as she came up for air. She winked at me and we did it all again; the only difference was that I held onto her hair tighter and pushed harder, getting even more of me down her throat.
I could feel myself getting closer to the brink of orgasm. I remembered her words about it being okay to cum in her mouth. I was so glad that she gave me this permission as it relieved the stress--not knowing, holding back, wondering. I also knew that she didn't expect reciprocation. I'd never had a blowjob that didn't require some kind of "payback." This time, however, I knew that I was paying her back by building her website. With that, I leaned back and groaned, allowing myself to enjoy every sensation as she coaxed an orgasm out of me.
I held her down as I came inside of her mouth while she sucked every last drop of it out of my spent cock. She kept her head in my lap, licking at the oversensitive head of my cock for a few minutes, lapping up the last few drops. I stroked her hair and smiled. She went to her bathroom and came back with a warm washcloth that she wiped me off with before saying, "Thats the kind of payment I'm willing to give. At least one of those per page of my site. Does that sound fair?"
"Was that just the home page?"
"No, that was just to see how you reacted. We'll talk about the homepage more tomorrow.
Working for Zoe ended up being the best job I ever had. She gave me a whole new perspective on freelancing. After her site was done, Zoe gave me a discount for her services for life and passed my contact information along to a number of her friends who were looking for a similar deal. Needless to say, I was grateful for the work.
No comments:
Post a Comment