Authors: Madeline Moore
Jesus! Sarah was half Daphne’s age but she doubted she was that flexible. In fact, she knew she wasn’t. And to think that she’d assumed, like many her age, that if older people still made love, it was missionary style, once a month.
Daphne’s mouth opened wide. James’s cock just naturally slid between her lips.
Sarah pressed the vibrator hard against her pubic bone with her clit trapped between them.
James’s hands lifted Daphne’s bottom a few inches, moving her entire body upwards, drawing her lips back up his shaft. He lowered her, impaling her mouth. Again, faster. And again. Daphne wasn’t moving a muscle. She hung limp, just letting him use her mouth to masturbate with.
Her breasts jiggled. Her belly button pendant glittered as it shook. James accelerated and now his hips were coming up as he lowered Daphne, driving his shaft deeper and deeper into her mouth.
A sudden urge made Sarah push the vibrating dildo up inside herself while the fingers of her free hand strummed her straining clit. The timing was perfect for, at that moment, James threw his head back, jerked his hips up and roared.
As Sarah was riding her own internal convulsions, Daphne’s throat was working. She was swallowing.
The image triggered Sarah’s aftershock.
Daphne raised her calves up from behind James, pointed her legs straight up, then tumbled away from him onto her tummy. James slumped down and rolled onto his side.
Daphne slithered off the bed and patted her man’s shoulder. ‘Take a little nap, darling. We’ve got all evening.’ She sauntered over to where Sarah sat.
Sarah brushed her kilt down, just in case the no contact’ rule was about to be broken, but Daphne ignored her and helped herself to a sandwich and a can of cola.
‘How on earth can you bend yourself like that?’
‘Yoga, sweet cheeks.’ Daphne gestured to the snacks. ‘Take a break. His second climax always takes much longer. You’re booked till midnight, I believe, but if we go past that, there’ll be a nice little bonus in it for you.’
5
MS VERONICA TOLD
Sarah, ‘Now you don’t owe me a penny and I imagine you got a nice tip as well, right?’
Sarah nodded.
‘How was it?’
‘I think they were pleased.’
‘I meant, how was it for you?’
Sarah blushed and shuffled. ‘It was OK.’
‘Just OK? You didn’t enjoy yourself, not even a little bit?’
‘Um …’
‘They’re exhibitionists, remember. They like to talk about what they do. According to them, you got off, three times.’
Sarah couldn’t help grinning. ‘Four. They missed one. Too busy.’
‘I’m pleased. Was it educational?’
‘Those two – they’re very – um – inventive.’
‘That’s a perk in this business. You learn all sorts of things. Your boyfriend will be happy about that.’
‘About my boyfriend – did Jack call you?’
‘Not yet. Who knows, he might call tomorrow, or the next day, but meanwhile, seeing that you had such a good time, shall I sign you up?’
Sarah sank into the office chair. ‘I don’t know. I was very lucky with that couple. I wasn’t expected to do anything …’
‘Thank me. I never send a girl out on a date unless I’m sure she can handle it.’
‘You get many like those two? I’d date them, anytime.’
‘I told you, they’re twice a year, her birthday and his. As you can probably guess, your date was in celebration of
his
birthday
. Our clients are all different. We get a lot of corporate business – escorting out-of-town visitors. Half the time, all they want is eye candy on their arms.’
‘The other half?’
‘My girls only ever do what they’re comfortable with. As it happens, I have two clients to match up this coming weekend, both of them well within your comfort range.’
Two dates meant two thousand dollars, plus tips. Sarah couldn’t help being curious. ‘They don’t want to touch their escorts?’ she asked.
‘One’s new. He’ll be in a wheelchair, I’m told. He wants a pretty nurse to push him and act as if she dotes on him at a banquet. He doesn’t want people to feel sorry for him.’
‘Poor old man.’
‘No, I’ve seen his picture. He’s not at all old. He’s quite young and good-looking.’
‘But in a wheelchair?’
‘Yes, in a wheelchair.’
‘I could do that, I think, if I had a nurse’s uniform.’
Veronica looked Sarah up and down. ‘We could fit you out of wardrobe, I’m sure.’
‘Wardrobe?’
‘We keep some evening gowns and cocktail dresses but mainly fantasy costumes and so on, right here. Quite a few of our clients make special requests about what their dates are to wear, and we don’t expect you to have a closet full of fancy gowns, not yet, at least.’
‘You said you had two clients that you haven’t matched up yet for this weekend. What does the other one expect from his date?’
‘He’s something like your date last night. He doesn’t want to fuck you, if you’ll excuse the expression. Like them, he just wants you to be there.’
‘Watching?’
‘No. He wants to touch his date. In fact, he wants to touch her a lot, but he’s very gentle and he’s not interested in penetration, not with his dick, at least.’
‘I’m confused.’
‘He worships women’s bodies. He likes to look at them, stroke them, kiss and caress them, even make them climax, but his date wouldn’t have to do anything to him and, as I said, no penetration. I’m not sure if he jerks off or not, but you could handle that, after last night.’
‘
Handle
what?’
‘Not his cock, silly. He does that for himself. You’d never have any contact with his genitals, none at all.’
‘James – last night – he stroked himself.’
‘And how was that for you?’
Sarah thought about how she’d felt. ‘Interesting.’
‘Good. I’m glad you have an open mind. You could go a long way in this business, Sarah.’
‘I’m not sure that I want to.’
‘But two thousand dollars, for two nights’ easy work,
that
interests you.’
‘It does,’ Sarah admitted.
‘Then that’s settled. Let’s go check wardrobe, shall we?’
‘Wardrobe’ proved to be a large room that was lined with racks of dresses and costumes, all in plastic bags. It was fascinating. Apart from prom night at high school, Sarah hadn’t had any occasions to wear formal dresses, and certainly not any in the slinky and sophisticated styles she saw here. There were velvet gowns and some in fabrics that Veronica told her were called ‘liquid metal’, because that was exactly what they looked like. Several were trimmed with lace and a few were all lace, mainly in black. A woman would have to be extremely daring to wear one of those in public. The thought of doing that brought a warm glow to Sarah’s cheeks, and to her sex.
One section was for what Veronica called ‘fantasy wear’. There were schoolgirl outfits that would get a girl expelled – micro-skirts and see-through skimpy shirts, ditto cheerleader costumes. ‘Nurses’ had an entire rack to themselves. Most of those were totally unsuitable for Sarah’s date. She couldn’t very well show up for the client’s banquet in clinging white
rubber,
even if it did come with a tiny cap with a red cross on it.
Nurses don’t wear uniforms any more,’ Sarah said. Not even the decent ones. They all wear scrubs or tracksuits.’
In men’s dreams,’ Veronica explained, all nurses are pretty and horny, and wear white button-through uniforms over skimpy lingerie and thigh-high hose. We can lend you the uniform but you’ll need to come up with your own underwear, white preferably, and you’ll need white shoes. For a fantasy, white high heels are fine but you’re supposed to be the real thing, so trainers or flats of some kind, OK?’
‘OK.’ Sarah caught her breath. Until that moment, she hadn’t actually committed herself to going through with it. That OK’ changed everything. She’d gone from an ‘accidental’ escort to ‘just this once’ to ‘this is going to be my part-time job, for some time to come’.
Veronica found Sarah a uniform that was attractive but decent enough to wear in public and added a broad elasticised black belt.
Sarah asked, ‘If he wants to show me off to his colleagues, why doesn’t he want me to go as his girlfriend instead of as his nurse?’
‘People are funny, Sarah. You’ll find out just how true that is working for Classique. We get requests for things that even I don’t understand.’
‘Oh? I don’t think I could do anything really kinky.’
‘We don’t talk about “kink”. We prefer the expression “sexual preferences”.’ She gave Sarah a knowing smile. ‘You have those, I’m sure, just like the rest of us. Remember, I’m very careful to match the client to the escort. You’ll never be asked to do anything you’d find difficult.’
‘But how do you find girls for the clients who have “sexual preferences” that are really, well, different?’
‘You’d be amazed at the things some of my girls are into. The only complaints that I get from them is that a client is too vanilla.’
‘I’m “vanilla”, aren’t I?’
‘Are you? We’ll see, won’t we?’
Veronica had arranged an appointment for Sarah with Carlo, who had a beauty salon on the ground floor of the same building. She was to report to Carlo on Saturday, for ‘the works’.
As Sarah left the University Pages’ office that Saturday, David was waiting for her.
‘I’ll buy you lunch,’ he said.
‘Can’t, sorry.’ She walked fast, forcing him to hurry to match her pace.
‘Why not?’
‘I’m busy. How’s your cold?’ Normally, David could be counted on to be distracted from any topic by an enquiry after his health. Not this time, though.
‘Gone. Sarah.’ David grabbed her forearm, forcing her to a full stop. ‘Are you seeing someone else behind my back?’
Ouch! Sarah blushed. ‘No.’ It was sort of true, she wasn’t seeing ‘someone’ but many ‘someones’.
‘What’s going on?’
Sarah conjured up a lie based on an ad she’d read a few days before. ‘Catering,’ she blurted.
‘Catering?’
‘I’ve found a part-time job with a catering service, working weddings on weekends. You can still take me out on weekdays though.’
Surely he would see through her flimsy story? Sarah steadied herself for the barrage of outrage that was surely coming.
‘I see.’ David released her arm. ‘OK.’
Amazing. It seemed that half the success of lying lay with the one being lied to. David didn’t want to face the truth, so he swallowed anything she gave him as an alternative, however sketchy. What a fascinating insight into the human psyche. She decided then and there to do her final epistemology paper on the topic.
Sarah pecked David on the cheek and made her escape.
She delivered herself into the expert hands of Carlo. For the
first
time in her young life, Sarah submitted to the happy ordeal of a manicure, a pedicure, a seaweed wrap, a facial and the full range of hair treatments including blonde highlights, something she’d always longed for but never tried. Her hairstyle stayed basically the same, on her insistence. A new one would have made David suspicious.
He really was beginning to get in her way.
She left Carlo’s with her hair burnished and her face subtly transformed from ‘very pretty’ to ‘absolutely stunning’. Perhaps it was the pink mirrors in the elevator fooling her, but she didn’t think so.
Veronica wasn’t in her office but Debra had Sarah’s nurse’s outfit waiting. The receptionist didn’t offer anywhere private for Sarah to change, and watched her as she stripped off her page’s uniform and everyday undies and put on her new sexy lingerie and white Dim stay-up stockings. Stay-up stockings! They were nothing like the pantyhose she’d worn to the prom, the last time she’d worn hose. Stay-ups were comfortable once she got them on and the lacy tops were pretty; they’d be even prettier in a colour less institutional than nurse white.
At first, Sarah was uncomfortable dressing in front of Debra, but by the time she was pinning her little starched cap in place she’d adjusted. A professional escort can’t very well allow herself to feel embarrassed about showing her body, after all.
In a breach of standard practice, Sarah was given a private address. As his nurse, she’d be expected to arrive with him at their destination.
‘Take this,’ Debra said. She held out a sleek black plastic rectangle.
‘What is it?’
‘A BlackBerry.’ Debra shook her head. ‘It’s a cellphone. And a lot more.’
Sarah blushed. Debra had already explained how to put on stay-ups, and now she had to explain what a cellphone was. Sarah wouldn’t blame her if Debra thought she was stupid, but
the
other woman’s voice was patient as she explained. Now that you’re on the books, you have to carry a cellphone. You won’t need it, but speed-dial number one will always bring you help, twenty-four/seven.’
‘Help?’ Sarah’s tummy felt queasy.
‘In case you get stranded somewhere, or something. Ms Veronica looks after her girls.’
Reassured, Sarah tucked the compact phone into her white beaded clutch. There was a cab waiting for her outside. The traffic was heavy so it took a while for her to get to the high-rise apartment building. Her date was waiting in the lobby.
He looked to be in his late thirties. His thinning hair was slicked back from a broad forehead. Either he wasn’t at all bad looking or it was the effect of his immaculately cut tuxedo, but when he smiled up at her, his face lit up in a way that Sarah found endearing.
He said, ‘George. George Patros. You are?’
‘Sarah. Nice to meet you, George.’
‘Nurse Sarah. I like that. Would you wheel me down to the underground parking, please?’
There was a van and driver waiting. The driver locked George’s chair onto a tailgate, made it go up and then pushed it into the back of the van. There was a seat for Sarah facing her client.
‘You have lovely legs,’ he told her.
‘Thank you, George.’
‘Would you mind …’ He paused as if embarrassed.
‘Mind what, George?’
‘I shouldn’t.’
‘Go ahead. Ask me.’
‘I don’t get to be with beautiful women very often and I do admire …’
‘Admire what?’ she encouraged.