MAD JOHN

John, I guess, was somewhere on the Asperger’s/autism spectrum. The other girls at the parlour called him “Mad John” but I thought that was really unfair. I called him Balloon Man and in the short time I worked at the parlour, he became my favourite amongst my regular clients. Not that I realised this when I first met him. He had turned up at the parlour for a booking and his regular girl was unavailable so the manager offered me. I sashayed out of our smoking room in my cheap glittery stilettoes, walked up to him, gave him a peck on the cheek, saying

“Are you here for a nice time darling?”

He said nothing, didn’t even manage a smile and seemed uncomfortable in my presence. That made two of us. When I tried to take his hand to lead him to the room he yanked it free and put it in his pocket. He followed me head bowed. I led him into the room and shut the door.

“It’s twenty for the room. Thirty for oral with, fifty for full service, and any extras I am prepared to do we negotiate. I don’t do oral without….”

John looked at me blankly and said simply

“Balloons. I’ve got my balloons.”

Suddenly there was a knock on the door and my friend Rosie motioned to me to pop out.

“I should have said. John is not like most of the punters. He is a bit like weird? You know? Basically what you do is burst the balloons he blows up and he gets off on that. He just wanks and comes and he’s well happy. But he is odd though. That’s why we call him Mad John.”

“And the rest?”
“There is no rest. He hates being touched. No contact with you at all. You just burst the balloons, three with your nails, three with your heels, but make it a bit of a show. He likes that. You get your money and don’t get a feeble little cock anywhere you. If you can handle the weirdness you won’t get a better gig in this job”

I went back in to the room. John had blown up six pink party balloons and laid them on the floor at the foot of the bed. He lay naked on the bed playing with himself. He was already hard. .
I picked up the first balloon and walk to stand over him.

“And if I burst this it will turn you on won’t it darling?”

He nodded and said

“Rub”
I rubbed the balloon over his chest, over his genitals, over the hand that was working his cock vigorously. Then I took it in my hands and pressed my long polished finger nails into the rubber.

He let out a cry as I dug the nails in further and burst the balloon with a loud bang. He was on the edge but I could see that he was holding back, waiting to be able to come with the bursting of the sixth balloon.

The second balloon was to be burst with my heel. I placed it by the bed so that he could have a good view, then walked slowly up and down in my heels, stroking my bottom, letting him see my perfectly perpendicular seams. I looked at him out of the corner of my eye. His eyes were focused not on me but on the balloon. I took a casual step forward, teased him that I was about to stamp on it and saw pre-come glistening on his bell end. I feinted again and he groaned.

“Please don’t do that. Just burst them….please.”

“And why shouldn’t I?” I smiled as I teased him.

“Because I don’t like it.” He looked away and began to twitch. I could feel anger rising within him.

“I’m sorry”.

I burst the balloon quickly and he resumed his wank, slowly at first, to get hard again .

“It’s slippery now. Can I have a tissue please?”

He wiped his cock carefully, drying it to get a better purchase then began again, slowly, then quickening to a frantic motion as I punctured the next balloon with my nails.

“Four today, only four I am going to come. I can’t hold it any more.”

I placed the final balloon on the floor, walked to the window, pulled the net curtain back slightly to look out over the yard, to the back door where clients came in via a discreet public car park, then quickly over to the balloon, two determined strides and a sharp stab with my heel.

He arched his back and let out a cry as he came, creamy dollops dropping onto the paper sheet. He lay panting from the effort of his vigorous masturbation.

“I’ve come” he said slowly, avoiding eye contact. He then grinned to himself.

He got up, dressed, and counted out fifty pounds which he left on the bedside cabinet. John left the room without a word.

I lay down on the sheet, feeling the cold, rapidly congealing, come against my back. I was horny, really horny. There were two balloons left over from the appointment. I rubbed them against my breasts, then against my clit and lay down again in John’s come. on the wet come. I moved my panties to the side and began to play with myself . I took off a shoe and burst the first balloon with the heel, then pleasured myself some more before bursting the last balloon with my finger nails.

“Wrong order I know, sorry John” I murmured as I held him before me, this strangest of clients who had done what no other client had yet managed to do. He had me horny. Totally fucking horny.

My next client had arrived but I was in no hurry. I needed to come. I lay back took a vibrator out of a drawer and wanked to John until I too came with a loud moan. Balloon Man was a regular I had been told. I just needed to make him my regular.

Sex work wasn’t always enjoyable but every now and again, it had its compensations. , and they weren’t always to be found where you might expect.