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Love In A Broken World

nude woman lying on man, sex story, love story

Sex Story Submitted By BobJJ123


Tug Masters wasn't his real name. It was the only name he'd ever gone by, and he'd never seen a birth certificate to verify the name Clarence Masters until he'd entered the Army. Even with the certificate, Tug was not sure that Masters was his legal name since it was the name of the older man who raised him, and he was pretty sure that Ole Hiram Masters was never intimate with his mother.

Tug had only faint memories of his mother, and they weren't particularly pleasant. She had seemed to Tug to be cold and heartless and prone to physical punishment for minor offenses he either committed or was thought to have committed. Before he was of school age, she had left him with Ole Hiram far up in the mountains.

Old Hiram was a recluse, living a solitary life, alone and content with his lot. He grew his own food and trapped furs to earn a few dollars for clothes and necessities. In many ways, he was a wise man and full of the knowledge of living, and though he showed no interest in women. He was content to eke out an existence in his cabin on High Creek. The only sign of physical affection the old man ever showed was towards Tug.

So Tug grew up far up in the mountains where the old man homeschooled him in reading, writing, and arithmetic and often read to him from the great books of English literature. The old man never taught him the finer points of etiquette or of the mores of society, nor did he teach him about men and women or sex and morals. What he learned in those areas came from the books that Ole Hiram had read to him.

Then, shortly after he turned seventeen, Ole Hiram became sick and went to a county home where he eventually died, leaving Tug alone in a world he wasn't familiar with and didn't understand. He joined the Army and immediately found a home... a place that fed him clothed him and took care of all his needs.

Tug had excelled in the Army where he was officially Clarence, but through it all, he was simply Tug. In the Army he was a warrior and became a parachute and ranger qualified and ended up in Special Forces. For the first time in his life, he was "the best," and he reveled in his newly found pride. He had made the rank of Staff Sergeant.

Then, it happened. He had been assigned to an office detail working with several women, and it was a new and different environment - one for which he was poorly suited, Barely a week into his new assignment he was charged with sexual harassment by one of his female privates and only his Captain's intervention saved him from a court-martial.

It was the beginning of the end for his army career as Tug felt a growing resentment over the unfounded charge. His attitude had changed, and where once there was pride, there was now only emptiness. Where once there was peace and contentment, there was suspicion and mistrust. Six years had been enough.

Then, on leaving the Army, Tug had taken the best job offer open to a highly trained warrior. He signed up to work for a private military force hired to guard people and places in troubled parts of the world. The pay was nearly fifteen times what he was earning in the Army, and the work was essentially the same. His early life had left him with no moral compunction against serving in a paramilitary force.

Again, he quickly excelled in his work and was rewarded with praise and healthy bonus payments. Years passed, and he had been injured several times in the course of his duties. Of course, the company he worked for eventually provided an excellent medical plan and life insurance as well.

Tug had developed life around his work with his social structure based in an all-male world, and he preferred it that way. Like Ole Hiram, he had no room for women in his life, and he had long since learned to master the natural cravings for women and sex.

Tug had not been a prudent man, spending money as his wants and needs appeared, but his circumstances left little opportunity to spend money, and his savings grew. With the money overseen by competent financial advisors, he found himself a wealthy man early in life. It mattered little as his life was now that of a Soldier of Fortune.


Leslie Tarington had been raised in the city... in the slums of the city. She had grown up in poverty in a dysfunctional home. Her mother was an addict, and she wasn't sure who her father was, but he was long gone, and the series of uncles that came to stay with them she was sure weren't really uncles. By the time she was school-aged, she was aware of the seamier side of the city.

It was soon obvious to Les that if she was to have a good life, she would either have to get an education and leave the slums for good pay and a job in a different world or she could peddle drugs where the money was good, the risks high and jail almost a certainty. Her third choice was to become a prostitute - not the streetwalkers of the neighborhood but a high-class escort who worked downtown and lived in luxury.

Since college was out because she couldn't find the money to support her during her attendance, she developed a plan. With her youth, she could earn top dollars as a call girl and support herself in luxury while attending the university and getting the education she needed to leave the slums forever.

While in high school, Les had earned good grades and honed her training for her future calling with the high school boys. In her sophomore, she gave her virginity to a guy she hardly knew and began her training. She had dated often and with a variety of high school boys to gain experience, and for the pleasure, she was soon able to extract. Then, she had used her wiles to seduce the gym teacher for experience with older men.

Upon graduation from high school, she had sought the life of a call girl, with a pimp to guide and direct her. Her first pro attempt had been awkward, and her inexperience had been evident. The man had been an elderly clergyman, gentle, and they had eventually found mutual satisfaction in their fucking.

Unlike all her earlier men, he had been old and his drive less, so the usual 5-minute sex had taken nearly half an hour. It was not only the first time for Les but also a learning experience where she made mental notes about what pleased a man... something the 5-minute experiences didn't allow the time to do.

Within a week, Les was housed in a fine uptown apartment with new clothes and money rolling in as she established a clientele. Eventually, her pimp was gone, overdosed on cheap drugs, and she was her own manager.

With the years, Les found herself immersed in her lifestyle. Ostracized by the rest of society and, having abandoned her family and friends, found her social life with her clients. Any university education was soon forgotten.

There were no weekends or holidays, no vacations as such. The life of a call girl was a demanding one, and to relieve the stress, there were always drugs and alcohol available. Les, having observed the effects of the drugs and alcohol, found her relief in classical music and quiet interludes.

Again, Les made no conscious effort to save money. She lived a comfortable life as her savings grew, and she became wealthy. Firmly ingrained into the life of a prostitute, she gave no thought to a change.

Then, she began to age. Her face began to show crows feet, and she could no longer offer the fresh glow of youth to her customers. From thirty clients a week and a waiting list, she soon had a full book of less than twenty, which was not the most desirable. She found it harder and harder to find satisfaction from her social life with her clients. Now, nearing fifty, Les had been contemplating her next move for some time.


When Tug's company lost its contract to guard an American embassy where political conditions had made them unnecessary, they found no further use for his services. He was 'Laid Off.' The company had it made clear that the layoff was temporary, just until they got another contract and that their health plans and insurance were still in force. It was a time of great distress for Tug. He was alone in the world. His life was centered in the cheap hotel room that he'd rented in the city. At first, he ate well and enjoyed the sights and sounds of the city; then, he became bored.

It was then, as he sat, alone, in his hotel room that he realized he was nearly fifty and had never been with a woman he wondered if he'd missed something. He wondered about matters of procreation and remembered those feelings he had so long repressed. That night, he considered the matter of a woman and his natural animosity towards them. Mostly, he felt his lust building.

Shortly after breakfast, he contacted the bellman and asked where he could find the best prostitute available, no matter the price, just an older woman who would be gentle with him. Of course, with a twenty-dollar tip, the bellman said that a lady would be up shortly.

When Les appeared at Tug's door, she was the epitome of the conservative classical woman still beautiful, even at fifty. Tug stared openly, stunned by the picture of beauty before him. He stepped back to admit her and stood in silence.

The woman said simply, "My name's Brandi. You called?" and still, Tug stood transfixed by the situation. Finally, he responded, "I, I, I'm not very good with women. I've never been with one before."

Les heard his story; it wasn't the first time she'd heard it, but somehow this guy seemed sincere. She decided to play along with him. "Well, don't you worry about a thing. Let's just sit here and get acquainted," she continued, "here, sit by me on the bed. Now, let's talk."

In a minute, Les had Tug spilling his life story to her. He told of growing up in a man's world and of his experience in the Army. Then, he concluded, "I guess I don't like women very much" As Tug concluded his story, Les asked, "Is it that you don't like women in general or only certain ones?' They discussed the point as Tug remained adamant that he didn't like women. It was then that Les asked, "Why did you call me?"

Tug was surprised by the question, and he could find no reply as she continued, "Perhaps, you're not such a woman-hater after all. Perhaps it's only a few women you dislike. You don't appear to hate me." Again Tug was taken by surprise, and he realized she might be right. He felt a bond of intimacy growing between them.

Then the talk flowed freely as they discussed life and their wants and desired as Tug spoke openly of his hopes and desires that he'd not even allowed himself to consider. He spoke of his loneliness.

Suddenly, Les found herself speaking of her feelings, something she had never done before and something very risky for a whore. As she remonstrated herself to stop, the words tumbled forth. She felt the bond developing between them. It was when her cell phone rang to tell her that Tug's hour was up that she recovered control.

She gently reminded Tug that his time was up to which Tug replied, "Here, I've got five hundred dollars in cash for as much time as it'll buy. It was her chance all she had to say was that she had another appointment - she really did. She reached for her cell phone and called her agency, "Cancel my next appointment," she said. Then she again remonstrated herself for her stupidity in letting Tug into her life some more.

She had quickly sized Tug up as a rather antisocial, rough individual with no sense of propriety - a man with no morals and a lack of conscience. He could be dangerous. Then, on the other hand, he had revealed a tender and sensitive side that he had kept well hidden - she guessed, even to himself sometimes. Then, having just sold him another two hours, she got back into touch with Tug.

Talk came easy; then, lunch and more talk, and Les found herself enjoying herself. Suddenly, she realized just how much alike they really were. Their professional lives left them without friends or family, and they were cut off from a healthy social life. It was then that she completely understood Tug. She wanted more she wanted him as a friend and not as a client. She had broken the rules, and the results had come to pass.

When her cell phone rang the next time, she answered and said cancel my calls for the rest of the day. She turned to Tug and asked, "Why did you call me? You haven't even made a move on me yet," and tug replied, "I guess I'm just not very good at asking a woman."

Of course, Les realized he'd never been with a woman. He had no idea how to make his move on her. Somehow the thought pleased her as she decided it was up to her to make a move. Back in his room, they sat together on the bed. Les sought eye contact, and on meeting, an unspoken contract was made between them. She moved to kiss him.

The kiss was an awkward affair, his first. It was followed by more, each more experienced and more pleasurable than the last. Then as Les' lips parted and her tongue sought entrance to his mouth, Tug became a willing learner.

The rest of the afternoon, Tug was an avid learner as Les brought him through all the preliminaries to good sex. As the last of their clothes fell away, Tug suddenly took an aggressive stance, "Stand up and let me look at you. I want to see you."

Les resisted, suddenly shy and embarrassed by her fifty-year-old sagging breasts and bulging tummy. Tug insisted, and finally, she stood before him as their eyes met briefly, and she saw adoration. It was a new feeling. Most men looked at her with hunger and simply to feed their lust - Tug's adoration was new and exciting. She moved with renewed confidence and turned and danced before him as she felt a sense of elation. She had left her world of professional sex and entered the new world involving both mind and soul.

When she motioned for Tug to stand so she could embrace him, he resisted and only reluctantly joined her - his rock hard man-gristle between their bellies. They looked into each other's eyes and saw the passions that needed to be fueled. They touched and caressed and played as the man-pole between their bellies reminded them of their ultimate goal.

Back on the bed, Tug was eager now. He wanted to surge forth and enter her as Les resisted with soothing restraint in her voice. Under her guidance, he learned to touch and feel and enjoy her body as he tried to enhance her pleasure.

When she moved and said, "Just lie back and let me show you something," he felt her lips move on to his cock. All her years, a call girl came into play as she administered fellatio and brought pleasures that Tug had never known existed.

Then, she moved again and positioned her pussy over Tug's mouth with instructions on how to use his lips and tongue. Soon he was adroit at bringing out he finest sensations and pleasure. She moved and recovered a condom from her bag before returning to roll it on to Tug's cock as he lay on his back on the bed. Then, she rolled quickly on to her back and drew Tug over her. It was a strange move as the pros seldom preferred the missionary position, preferring instead the positions of power. This time, she wanted the power to be with Tug.

Again, Les lead Tug through the mechanics of the insertion and the penetration. She spoke quietly, in a low key so as not to upset her lover and was rewarded by a host of good feelings. The act was not one of passionate highs and wild orgasms and emotions gone berserk. Nor was it the act of two old familiar lovers; rather, it was a first. They both knew it.

Then, in their afterglow, they talked - not as a client and "John" but as friends and lovers who had much in common and so little knowledge of what they had discovered. They tried to express themselves in words but found it challenging.

Over dinner, they basked in the warm glow of their newfound relationship and enjoyed their lobster and a good vintage white wine. Later, back in their room, the two went immediately to bed, played, and cuddled together until sleep overcame them.

It was as they were having breakfast in their room that Les's cell phone rang, and the little envelop of their newly found world came crashing down. Les said simply, "I've got a call, and I have to go." "When will you be back?" Tug asked, and she replied, "I'm booked all day, maybe soon." Both knew it was most likely just good-bye.

Later that day, Tug was alone in his room, but he didn't seem quite lonely. Life seemed to be more fun, and perhaps he should develop some interests. He sought a fine place for dinner.

A day passed, then two. Tug went to the museum and the aquarium and to a book store where he bought a book of American literature. That afternoon, the telegram came calling him back to work the following Monday. He took all his clothes to be laundered and made purchases of the necessities he'd need on the new job.

Thursday had been a busy day, and he was tired when he returned to his room. He opened the door to find the light on and Les standing before him. She smiled and spoke a simple, "Hi." Before she kissed him, Tug decided he was pleased to see her.

Les explained that she'd cleared her calendar for a couple of days so they might be together and that she'd missed him as Tug wanted to be jealous of all those other guys that had been with her - he couldn't. When he asked her about those other guys, she fell silent. The atmosphere became tense.

Eventually, Les spoke. "Those other guys are what I do. I'm good a what I do, and they leave me happy. They were my life until a few days ago when you came along, and I thought we might be on to something better. Now, I realize that men can't accept that what I do with those guys has nothing to do with them." As her eyes moistened and she started for the door, Tug reached out and grabbed her roughly. He restrained her from leaving.

"Let me go," she said as Tug began to panic and held her tighter. "No," he cried loudly, "Not until you've heard me!" She struggled as Tug's powerful hands restrained her, and he began to talk. As he gripped the struggling woman, he was desperate for the right words. He apologized. He tried to understand. Finally, he said, "Damn it! You're the first woman I was ever with. I don't understand women, and I just know I want you. I want you as a friend when I'm gone."

The struggling stopped. "What do you mean, When you're gone" Tug explained that his job was starting the next Monday and he'd be gone a year without a friend or a woman. He'd hoped she'd be his friend and his special woman while he was gone. Suddenly Les' struggling stopped.

"You mean, you want me to wait for you while you're gone," she asked, and Tug replied simply, No." I'm a whore, and it's my life, and you want me to give it up, and he replied, "No, it was your life until I came along, and it's what you do." "Then, What the hell do you want?" "I just want to have you as my friend and remember you as that special woman that loved me."

Suddenly it was so simple. Les suddenly looked forward to the next two days as Tug suggested they go to dinner, and she suggested that perhaps they should have some quality time first. She had been anticipating this quality time all day, even as she'd serviced her two clients. Her thoughts and rising passions had sent them away extremely well satisfied, and now she was to reap the full benefit of Tug's attention.

Had he known that her clients had induced her highly advanced state of excitement, he might have been upset, but he didn't know. All he knew was that Les was there, and she was hot, and he adored her as they quickly stripped their clothing and met on his bed. When Tug stood on his knees, looking over her, she felt his eyes adoring every inch of her. She lay reveling in his attention. Then, as he moved to caress her and fondle her, she reached out and grasped his already erect cock.

With her hand grasping his cock, she drew Tug over her and said simply, "Fuck me now." As Tug moved to retrieve a condom, she pulled him back and said simply, "Not tonight. No condom, Please. I haven't felt a man bareback since high school, and tonight I want it to be special between you and me."

When his cock flesh moved between her pussy flesh, Tug immediately felt the difference. Suddenly, he realized that what he was feeling was love. Les was giving him something none of those others ever got - her mind and her soul. He felt his excitement like never before even those times when he'd come under hostile fire, and death seemed imminent. His elation soared, and beneath him, Les felt it too. They moved faster, more urgently, in perfect accord. Their passions grew more quickly, and their breathing heavier.

Then, in no more than a minute or two, their climaxes rose up and enveloped them with all the power a speeding locomotive. They pushed themselves together in an attempt to be even closer when it overtook them. Tug moved to kiss her as they cried out their release in unison, and Tugs juices spurted into her.

It had been spectacular. Les lay feeling the warm juices seeping past Tug's still impaled cock, from her opening and down on to the sheet as she reveled in her feelings. She had been fucked probably more than a thousand times and was undoubtedly an expert on the subject, but in all her experience, she had never been so intimately involved. She wanted to stay joined and close to Tug - to cuddle and feel him close. Tug was special.

As they lay joined, they slowly began to plan. Neither wanted to go to dinner. They ordered dinner in their room. Neither wished to dress, so they opted to eat in their robes. After housekeeping had been called to provide clean sheets, they returned to the big bed where they fell into each other's arms. It was the incredible intimacy that brought them together, and they reveled in each other. When sleep came, they were spooned together.

For four days, Tug and Les made love in a hundred ways and grew closer as both friends and lovers. Then, it was over. On Monday morning, they said their good-byes and Tug was off to his war. It was nearly eight months later when a small article in the newspaper described three American paramilitary workers who had been ambushed and wounded, and one was Tug Masters. Les never saw the article. She was busy making plans as she had finally decided to retire.

It was becoming more challenging to maintain that physical conditioning and shape necessary for a call girl, and it was about time to retire. Each week she cut her client load by one or two and was soon down to a core of regulars.

A year passed, and when Tug hadn't returned, Les assumed that he wasn't coming back. They had made no commitments. Still, she missed him. Another month passed and then two, and she was finally no longer an escort and was finally retired.

It was time to move on and address this terrible loneliness that she felt. She still had fond memories of Tug. It was as she was leaving her small, temporary apartment that she felt especially alone - depressed. To her shock and amazement, as she left, she saw him. She recognized Tug even from a block away and was shocked. He walked slowly, with a cane, and his gate was unsteady, but it was Tug. She ran to greet him.

Then, as she grew close, she saw reacted in horror as she saw that his left leg was replaced with a prosthesis, and his face was horribly scarred. A few steps closer and she had recovered her senses and raced to kiss and embrace him.

Tug spoke first, "I didn't know whether you'd want to see me like this. I almost didn't come looking for you. Then when I did come, I called the agency, and they gave me some cock and bull story about nobody by your name had ever worked there. I had to threaten to kick the shit out of some guy in the office, but they gave me your apartment address, and it was no good.

"I was just going to dinner," Les said, "There's a little Italian place just around the corner. Can you make it that far?" Tug smiled, "I can make it anywhere you are going."

Six weeks later, Les and Tug were living in a small village in the British Virgin Islands. A sand spit connected the island at extremely low tide, but a small footbridge was constructed to connect with the bigger island.

It was here that they could start their lives anew and enjoy the people of the small, isolated community. It was here that they made friends and earned respect. It was here that they found a life and were finally truly happy.

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