It’s my first time in Newcastle Upon Tyne. My first time up north. I’d fallen in love with your accent but we’d never made it up here together. We’d always planned to. We’d said we’d come up, visit your folks and I could watch a match. I look out the window of the hotel and watch the hordes of black and white-clad men parading down the road from St James Park. The chants and songs rising up leave me in no doubt as to the paternity of the referee. 

I look at my watch. It’s almost 5 pm. I really need to make a booking soon. I flip open the laptop and look at the site again. I scroll through the photos of the various girls in their underwear until I stop on the one I’d chosen earlier.

Amber, aged 26, blonde, blue eyes, size 8/10, 32C

I dial the number and listen to the phone ring three times before she answers.

“Hello?”

“Uh, hi. Is that Amber?”

“It is pet. How can I help you?”

The rich Northumbrian accent purrs down the phone line. 

“I saw your ad on the website. Do you look like your photos? Blonde hair, blue eyes?”

She laughs, but not in a condescending way. She sounds genuine.

“Aye, I do. And I’m really 5 feet 4, a hundred and ten pounds and my boobs are a 32C. In case that was your next question.”

I blush and stammer.

“Um, well... I was wondering... Are you free this evening?”

“Aye, I am. What are you looking for?”

She sounds friendly but slightly cautious. I suppose she has to suss out if I’m a nutter or not.

“I’m looking for a blowjob and sex, but I’d like you to dress up for me too. It says you do oral without on your ad.”

“I do, though it’s a condom for everything else. It’s ten pounds extra for cum in mouth and twenty for anal.”

“That's ok, but I’m not looking for that. Just wanting a blow job rather than sex, you on top.”

She laughs again. I love her laugh. It sounds like a hug, it reminds me of your laugh. She had the same accent, it’s almost like listening to you.

“That’s no problem. You said about dressing up. What outfit would you like? I have a saucy schoolgirl outfit, a French Maid, or I could be a naughty secretary or...”

I cut across her, not wanting to waste her time.

“If you don’t mind. I’d like you to wear an Army jacket I have here. You can change into it at the hotel.”

“No problem, pet. Is it clean? Laundered like?”

“Yes, it’s clean,” I assure her.

“That’s OK then.” 

I breathe easier.

“Would you be able to wear a purple thong, if you have one? Otherwise black would do.” 

“Can do.” She turns businesslike. “So it’s one hundred and fifty pounds an hour plus extras. I prefer the cash in an envelope ready when I enter your hotel room. How long do you want me for and when?”

“Tonight.” I worry I appear over eager as I’m so quick to answer. “Would 8 o’clock suit?”

“No problem, pet. And what hotel are you staying at?”

I look at the keyfob. 

“It’s the Station hotel on St James Boulevard. Room 227.”

“No problem, pet. I know it well. I’ll see you tonight.”

She ends the conversation and the phone goes dead.

I watch the clock crawl interminably slowly towards 8 pm.

I shower and sit in the white fluffy dressing gown the hotel provided. I wonder how many of these are stolen. I glance at the notice that was attached to the gown’s hanger and smirk. 

“You are free to purchase this gown upon checkout. If you decide to steal it, a charge of £50 will be added to your bill.” 

I pour a whiskey from the mini-bar. Neat, no ice. It’s a well-stocked bar and perhaps Amber will take a drink to settle nerves. Though I doubt she gets nervous, or maybe she does? Not knowing what is behind the anonymous hotel room doors. My mind wanders to what protection they have. Do they have a bouncer who waits nearby or a call sign or do they just rely on their wits to suss out if the client is another lonely fucker or a psycho?

I empty my wallet and slide the hundred and sixty pounds in £20 notes into a plain white envelope handily provided by the hotel as part of a stationery kit in the welcome pack. I leave it on the sideboard, ready to hand to her when she arrives.

I look at my watch again. Two minutes to eight. I pour another drink. The nerves are getting to me now. I look at the combat jacket on the bed. You looked so good in it that last afternoon. It’s how I remember you. You’d just had your hair cut. It looked so sexy. That day you told me you were going back to Afghanistan. You were in your uniform. The green camouflage uniform you wore at home. So different from the desert colours you’d be wearing in Helmand where you would be trying to win hearts and minds. That was it, wasn’t it? Hearts and Minds. Talking to the women, going where the male soldiers couldn’t. You wanted to make a difference. A woman in a man’s world, but still carrying your own gun.

My thoughts are interrupted by a soft knock on the door. A quick glance through the peephole shows a young blonde-haired woman in a navy coat and jeans. Nice and subtle, I think. Doesn’t look anything like a hooker.

I open the door and she slips inside with a nod in response to my questioning “Amber?”

I close the door and turn, picking up the envelope. She smiles. She looks so pretty.

“What’s your name, pet?”

That honey-dripped accent again. It makes my knees weak.

“I’m... I’m Matt,” I stammer as I gingerly hold out the envelope.

“Ta very much, Matt.”

She smiles and I gaze into her eyes, watching them sparkle. She glances down to the bed. 

“Is this the outfit?”

She picks up the combat jacket and looks again at me.

“Just the jacket?”

“And the thong and heels,” I hastily add.

She bites her bottom lip then nods ascent and carries it, along with the money into the ensuite bathroom.

I take another drink of my whisky and lean against the dressing table. After a couple of minutes, the bathroom door opens and she walks out.

She looks stunning. She slowly saunters towards me, unfastening the jacket as she approaches, revealing her boobs. She glances at the name tag on the jacket.

“Hello, Sir. Captain Ferguson reporting for duty, Sir.”

She doesn’t break eye contact as she lets the jacket fall open. My eyes drop to take it in. The pair of full breasts with the pale pink nipples, the flat stomach, the purple thong. I lick my lips and gaze back into her sparkling blue eyes.

“On your knees, soldier.” I gasp and watch, feeling my cock harden as she slowly slides down onto her knees. 

She licks her lips as she looks up at me and reaches out and tugs the belt of the robe. It falls open and my cock springs to attention.

Her fingers trace the shaft with soft, delicate, featherlight touches. I’ve paid for oral without a condom so she runs her tongue over the head as she pulls the foreskin back. I can feel the heat of her mouth on my cock. My hands grip the edge of the dressing table for support as she sucks me into her mouth. 

She looks up, watching me every time she pulls her head back and lets my cock slide out. One hand on the shaft, the other fondling my balls. She hums a tune as her tongue tickles the strip of skin underneath the head.

I can see lipstick smears on the pale white skin of my cock. There’s a ring of red lipstick about halfway down the shaft. A mark showing just how much cock she has taken into her mouth.

Fuck, she sucks cock so well. Her cheeks are sucked in as she moves her lips over and back along the shaft. Her blue eyes watering a little as she takes more cock into her mouth. The lipstick ring being pushed further down the shaft towards my balls. 

She seems to be sucking and pulling on my cock with her mouth and tongue and as the head pushes against the back of her throat, I feel my balls tighten and I pump my hot sticky cum into her mouth. 

Her eyes bulge as she tries to swallow it all but she's sucked so much cum out of me she's sucked me dry. 

A trickle of cum dribbles out of her mouth and she jumps up and trotters towards the bathroom in her heels, her hands flapping as she makes a funny yelping noise. 

I can't help smiling as I hear her daintily spit the cum into the bathroom sink. I let the robe drop to the floor and lie, naked on the bed, waiting for her. She comes back out looking slightly sheepish. 

"I didn't expect quite so much, pet." 

She climbs onto the bed beside me and kisses me on the mouth. I slide my hands under the camouflage jacket and cup her boobs. My thumbs stroke her nipples as she slides her tongue into my mouth. 

When I roll her nipples between my fingers and thumbs and tug on them, she breaks the kiss and arches her back. I'm sure I can hear her purr. 

I move her blonde hair out of the way with one hand and kiss her neck, whispering in her ear how hot I find her. 

I can't help feeling a pang of guilt as I look at her wearing your camouflage jacket. With the same blonde hair, the same accent, you could almost be sisters. 

She slides her way down my body, her fingertips play with the hairs on my chest. She straddles me, letting her cotton-covered crotch press against the semi-hard shaft on my cock. It usually takes a little while for me to recover and my little soldier isn’t standing to attention just yet.

“Do you want a drink?” I offer. “There’s all sorts in the minibar.”

“Aye, I’d kill for a rose wine. Long as it’s chilled mind.”

She climbs off me and lets me scoot off the bed and get a small bottle of rose from the fridge. I show her it’s unopened before twisting the neck and breaking the seal. The sound of the wine sloshing into the glass seems louder than normal in the quiet room.

I hand her the glass and lift my own scotch and slide back on the bed beside her.

“Cheers,” I say, smiling at her.

She clinks glasses and takes a sip of wine. I watch her as her tongue flicks out, licking an errant drop from her lips. She takes a larger slug of wine and then bends down and takes my cock into her mouth. The coldness of the wine almost takes my breath away as she swirls it over my cock head.

“Ffuucckkk,” I gasp. Her fingers trace around my balls and I can feel myself squirming while my cock rises in her mouth. The mixture of hot and cold is exhilarating when she holds my cock in her hot hand, rubbing it against the outside of her cheek then dribbling ice cold chilled wine over the head.

With practised dexterity, she has the condom unwrapped and places it over my hardened cock with her mouth in seconds.

“Ready for round two, soldier boy?”

She stands up and slips off her knickers. Her mound is shaved smooth with a small tattoo of a red rose just on her hip bone.

She straddles me again and I watch as she lowers herself down onto me. One hand on my chest, the other holding my cock upright as her cunt lips slide over the head.

Fuck, she feels so good. Tight as fuck as she bottoms out inside me. She grinds her mound against my pubes. She stares into my eyes as she fucks me.

You always said I was a lazy fucker after I’ve cum the first time. I lie there and let her ride me. She is enthusiastic, putting on a good show as she slides up and down my cock. I watch her boobs bouncing underneath your open jacket. I can see your name written on the chest pocket. Cptn Ferguson. I fuck this whore, imagining it’s you, jerking my hips up to meet her as she slides down.

I put my hands on her tits. We’ve both always loved this position. You liked it because you were in control and I liked it because I got to play with your tits while you fucked me and I just lay there on my back.

I squeeze and paw at her tits while I fuck her. The whore is fucking me faster now. I can see a sheen of sweat on her. She’s making little panting, yelping noises as I slam my cock deeper into her cunt.

I move my hands from her tits to her hips and pull her down hard onto my cock as I shove my hips up to meet her.

“Fuckkkk,” she screams. I’m starting to pound the little slut now. She’s riding my cock like a right dirty bitch. She’s acting just the way you go when I pound you like this. Hard, meaty thrusts deep into your cunt with my big hard cock.

The squelch squelch squelch of her cunt is timed perfectly with the little fuck fuck fucks coming out of her mouth. Her eyes have that look. That look that says ‘Please cum, please.’

She’s bouncing on my cock like a ragdoll now. Her eyes are rolling. Her blonde hair swaying with every roll of her head. 

“Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god, fuck me, fuck me,” she prays. It’s like a mantra, repeated over and over as I fuck her harder. My hips slapping against her arse with every thrust. 

I mistime a thrust and slide out of her. The pain when I slam my cock against her mound causes us both to stop.

“Are you ok, pet?” she checks, stroking my hair.

“Aye, I’m grand. Let’s finish it off doggie style,” I suggest.

She quickly gets on all fours. Her face down on the clean crisp white sheet and her arse pointing up in the air.

I kneel behind her and run my hands over her arse cheeks, spreading them. Her tight puckered arsehole winks at me as I look at her juices smeared over her arse crack and cunt lips.

I guide the tip of my cock back into her fuck hole then press on the small of her back, pushing her down onto it. She groans a little as I grind against her arse.

“Go on, you dirty bastard. Finish me,” she gasps, pushing her arse back to fit more of me inside her.

I slide my fingers over her hips and lick my lips. From this angle, it looks so like you. The blonde hair fallen forward, draped over the sheets as she presses her face into the mattress. Her back covered by the camouflage jacket, her arse up in the air.

I grip her hips and pull her towards me hard and fast onto my cock as I slam my hips forward. Her howl makes me feel so fucking good as I pound her. I use her, I fuck her, wishing it was you. Wishing it was your cunt I’m slamming my cock into. Wishing it is your blonde hair I’m twisting around my fingers. Wishing it is your voice making the screams and howls and whimpers I hear as we both cum. 

I pull out and fall onto the bed. I suck the oxygen back into my lungs. I see her crawl to the other side of the bed and pick up her wine glass. She knocks the wine back and brushes her blonde hair back from her face. Several strands are stuck to her cheek. She looks at me as she tries to bring her breathing back to normal.

I sit up and lift my glass. I drain the whisky in one mouthful. She glances at her watch. 

“So what’s with the uniform, like?” she asks as she picks a blonde hair from it.

“It’s my girlfriend’s.” I let the statement hang, no further explanation forthcoming.

“Right. I’d best give it back to you then, pet.”

She stands up and lets the jacket slide off. She reaches down and picks up her knickers and heads to the bathroom.

I sit on the bed and stare at the jacket.

“I miss you,” I whisper.