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We find work with an escort agency.
1. This is a work of fiction. The activities and practices described in this story are not necessarily either condoned or recommended. If you choose to do anything described in real life with real people you do so at your own risk.
2. All characters are fictional and any likeness to any living person is purely coincidental. The story is purely imaginary and, to the author’s knowledge, bears no relationship to any factual occurrence.
3. For those who haven’t yet read the previous chapters, I suggest you read them to provide context before continuing with this chapter. I am open to suggestions about where you would like this story to go, if you wish to comment. Thanks.
We had a dilemma. An apartment in Washington was expensive so we could only afford a fairly dilapidated two-bedroom place, definitely unsuitable for entertaining paying clients. On the other hand, we needed paying clients to be able to afford something better. This left us with no option but to offer our services in the homes of potential clients, a situation which could be riskier than if we had control of the environment. However, beggars can’t be choosers, as the saying goes, so that was how we started our new, and first, business venture.
It hadn’t taken us long to find an escort agency willing to employ us. Girls and guys who were attractive, sexy, willing to do almost anything, and were discreet were in high demand. Celeste had taken to wearing her purple corset each day now we weren’t travelling and she attracted attention in the city, especially from guys. I found it interesting to walk a few steps behind her, noticing the reactions of the guys and their partners, if they had one, more than one randy male receiving an angry elbow in the ribs from his girlfriend or wife.
We had discussed sexual matters between us on and off for several days, wondering how life would be if we were married; could we continue to work as escorts while we were married? Would we allow other partners in our bed, could we allow each other to have sex with other partners? These were all very valid considerations which filled in much of our time as we awaited a call notifying us of an appointment with a client. Before that could occur, however, we had to pass several checks including Police and medical. So, we waited in our small apartment or, more frequently walking the streets to become familiar with the city. Inevitably this led to Celeste taking an interest in jewellery shops.
“I love that one, darling,” she said, pointing to a beautiful diamond and emerald engagement ring, “And look, it’s only $150,000.”
“Yeah,” I chuckled ruefully, “When you earn that a month then you can buy it.”
“Honey, I’m sorry, I know you feel bad about not having an engagement ring for me, and I do know that you’ll buy me one when we can afford it.”
I laughed. “Yeah, but there’s also one other thing you must do first,” I replied, “You’ll have to agree to marry me. I’m still in limbo; I don’t know whether you’re my girlfriend or my fiancée. Really, darling, you do need to decide.”
“I know, I know, but the belief in fidelity that I was taught growing up is so deep-rooted that it’s really hard to ignore. I enjoy making love with you and watching you make love with others and I definitely enjoy making love with others too and having you watch me, but my parents were adamant that marriage means an end to all that. Once you’re married, you have one partner and one partner only. So that would mean I couldn’t work as an escort and be married, but there’s nothing to stop me working as an escort and being your girlfriend. So that’s why I haven’t given you an answer, even though I know it’s been a week since you asked. It’s Ok for you, you didn’t have the same parents and strict upbringing that I did.”
“Yes, honey, I know it must be very hard for you to go against all the beliefs that were instilled in you. So, no pressure, take your time. It’ll give me time to save, but not enough for that one, I wouldn’t think.”
The next morning we received a call from the agency to say everything was fine and we could start when we wanted. We both said we could start now, so they gave us each a client, Celeste’s for tomorrow evening and mine tonight. They told us all the details of types of dress, where to meet, what was booked, etc, etc, and then wished us pleasant dates.
I found a suit hire place and hired suitable clothing, then we returned home. I was to escort a society woman, mid-30s, to a charity fundraising dinner. I was given a charge number and would use the card they had provided earlier to charge any expenses, although everything was already paid for I was told, the card was for emergencies only. So tonight, Celeste would be on her own for dinner. I had no idea what time I would be home as the agency had been at pains to point out that the duration of the engagement would depend sincan escort on what we both chose to do, but that my contracted time ended at midnight.
“So, you mean, you may not be home at all tonight, if Margarite decides she wants your services all night?” asked Celeste as I finished dressing.
“Yes, that’s correct,” I replied.
“It’s going to seem strange sleeping alone.”
“Well, you could always go and pick up some sexy guy if you wanted.”
“No, darling, I’ll wait for you. I was only joking.”
“Just remember, although I might have fun with Margarite, I’m yours and nobody else’s. This is just work; pleasant work, but still work.”
“Yes, honey, I do realize that and I do hope she’s nice to you and you have fun.”
“Thanks sweetheart,” I replied, kissing and hugging her in my unfamiliar dress clothes. She held me away from her to inspect me, straightening my tie a miniscule amount.
“You’ll do. You clean up quite well. Make sure she knows she’s a very lucky woman.”
“Oh, I’m sure she’ll know that alright,” I replied as I walked out the door.
I was collected by a chauffeur-driven Mercedes a few minutes later and whisked away through the end of the rush-hour traffic to one of the better areas of the city, where we drove into an underground park. The chauffeur, Harold, escorted me to the elevator, pressed the penthouse button, used his key to access that level and stepped out.
The elevator stopped and the doors opened into a beautifully decorated room with floor to ceiling windows looking out over Washington. Margarite had been notified that the elevator was on its way up and as I stepped out she greeted me.
“You must be Hank,” she said in her soft, silky voice, “Pleased to meet you. I’m Margarite, as I’m sure you know already.”
“Good evening, Margarite,” I replied, taking the hand she offered to me and kissing the back of it. She quickly twisted her hand to hold mine then pulled me towards her, pressing her body against mine as I approached.
“Let’s begin as I hope we’ll end,” she said, reaching up and pulling my head downwards to give me an open-mouthed kiss on the lips, which must have lasted several minutes.
“That’s better,” she said as she finally released me, “It nearly two weeks since my last man so I’m feeling horny. I hope you’re ready for a long session once the party’s over.”
She reached down and felt my cock, sliding her hand over its hardness. “Mmmm, you feel good. Pity there’s no time for an entrée.”
She broke away and applied lipstick to her lips, the color matching her bright red gown perfectly. I had time to watch her and admire her tasteful clothing, sexy yet not too sexy, the top of the gown having a deep cleavage revealing the inside of her tanned breasts, the sheath fitting tightly against her body below the waist until the left side stopped half way down her thigh, the hem cutting across her legs and downwards until the right side ended half way down her calf. The back of the gown plunged deeply to just above her hips, leaving her back bare, the top held only by a halter around her neck tied with a large bow at the back, which was covered by her sweeping mane of blonde hair. As she applied her lipstick in the mirror, I could see her watching me watching her. She finished and turned, leaning back against the mantle and smiling.
“Well, do I pass?” she asked with a grin.
“Extremely well, madam, you are beautiful.”
“Thank you, I know, and never call me madam again. Reserve that for old women and brothel keepers.”
“I’m sorry, Margarite.”
“That’s Ok. No damage done. I’m sure I’ll have you trained in a few weeks.” She laughed as she said that, mainly, I think, because of the look that showed on my face. A few weeks? This sounded far more permanent than just the one night stand I’d expected. Time will tell, I told myself.
“Now, would you like a drink before we go? We’re a wee bit early so have time. Besides, I hate arriving on time; if you do that once people expect it all the time,” she chuckled.
I looked around and saw a side table with glasses, ice and drinks. “What would you like to drink?” I asked.
“A white wine at this time of day please,” she replied. “Help yourself to whatever you like.”
I opened the bottle and poured two white wines, taking one glass to her and keeping the other.
“Here’s to a wonderful night, with many more to follow,” toasted Margarite.
I clinked glasses with her and we drank. She sat on a sofa and I was about to take a chair when she patted the sofa beside her, so I sat where I was told.
“So, tell me a little about yourself,” she said, “No ring, I see, so at least you’re not married.”
I told her a little about me and my relationship with Celeste as we drank our wine leisurely, then she looked at her diamond-encrusted watch and said it was time to leave.
“It’s late enough to ensure people will know I’m late, but not late enough for them to phone the hospitals,” she grinned.
We ankara escort descended to the basement park and I held the door for her as she entered the Merc, then sat beside her in the back. Harold obviously knew where to go and drove swiftly and skilfully to our destination at a country club on the outskirts of the city, where he opened her door while I clambered out, then, with Margarite on my arm, we entered the club.
Immediately Margarite was greeted by people who inquired politely about her health and looked questioningly towards me. Except for a few occasions, Margarite ignored their glances at me, on those exceptional occasions she introduced us and we made small talk for a few minutes until she was accosted by another person or couple. It appeared that she knew everyone here and they certainly all knew her and were most intrigued about her new beau, as they thought of me. Margarite didn’t disillusion them about my status.
We were given drinks and helped ourselves to hors d’oeuvres as we slowly made our way to the head of the dining table. Once there, Margarite nodded to a suited gentleman, who nodded to a waiter who struck a gong to signify that dinner was served. Everyone stood behind their chairs until Margarite sat at the head, then they all sat, as did I. It had become abundantly clear that Margarite was the head of this clan, whatever this clan may be, and that I, as her partner and presumed paramour, had a similar status.
Once people were settled, I was introduced to Judith, sitting beside me, and her husband Mark. They appeared to be a slightly older couple, maybe late 40s, who gave the appearance of being of the same social and financial standing as Margarite. Alongside Margarite was Clive and his wife Margaret, who were also probably in their 40s. In fact, looking around I would have been very surprised if I wasn’t the youngest there, being only mid-20s.
I chatted amiably with Judith and Mark, as well as with Margarite, of course, although she seemed at one stage to have a deep and meaningful conversation with Clive in undertones, probably about some business of the organization. Dinner was excellent, with an entrée of beautifully poached salmon followed by a choice of turkey or eye fillet steak, which I found to be cooked to perfection. Before dessert, a guy stood to make a speech.
“That’s Raymond,” Margarite told me quietly, “He’s the chairperson.”
“So, if he’s chairperson, who are you?” I asked.
“I’m the patron now, I was the original founder of this charitable trust.”
Raymond welcomed everyone here, making special mention of me as Margarite’s latest escort. I grimaced, thinking that he probably didn’t know how accurately he described my role, then smiled and acknowledged his remarks. He then continued with the events that had taken place during the past year. It became clear that the trust assisted those who had educational needs, mainly gifted children in poor families, and that this was their annual celebration of their founding by Margarite, this being the tenth anniversary. I had time to switch off a bit and look around at the people attending. All were well-heeled, giving the air of prosperity and probably old money. The women were mainly in the middle-aged bracket, the men middle-aged to elderly; I would have hazarded a guess that most were stably married and possibly bored by their marriage. A few women were accompanied by men much younger than they were, probably toy boys, as they were derogatively known. However, I certainly was in no position to judge them.
Once the speech was finished, dessert was served and the formal part of the evening was apparently over. Margarite pulled my head towards her and whispered in my ear.
“Say something sexy to me, darling.”
I thought for a few seconds, then whispered back.
“Go to the rest room and when you return put your panties in my pocket.”
She turned and looked at me aghast, then a grin spread over her face. A few minutes later, she excused herself and walked to the rest rooms. She returned soon afterwards and sat beside me, opening her purse, removing an object concealed in her hand, which she placed in my suit coat pocket. She looked into my eyes and grinned. I waited a few moments then used my hand to check what was in my pocket, feeling some lacy fabric, still warm from her body. I looked at her and she grinned, a blush effusing her face. She put her lips to my ear.
“I feel so naughty,” she whispered, “I’m naked under my gown.”
“I know. Pity it’s not translucent, eh,” I whispered back.
She grinned at me. “Wait until later,” was her whispered reply.
As we watched and chatted, a four-piece band set up at the far end of the hall and the tables were cleared, chairs and tables moved to allow dancing.
“I hope you dance,” commented Margarite.
I thought I was a reasonable dancer but maybe a bit rusty. “I think I can manage, although I haven’t danced for a long time. Anyway, I’m sure you’re an excellent etimegut escort dancer and everybody dances better with a competent and confident partner.”
She squeezed my arm. “It’ll be fun refreshing your memory then,” she grinned.
My conversation with Judith and Mark about city development was fortunately interrupted, before I could make a complete fool of myself, by the band starting up and Margarite plucking at my arm.
“Come on, honey, we’ll be expected to start the dancing. Bet you never thought you’d be putting on a dance display tonight,” she chuckled as I stood just in time to pull her chair back as she rose, then I offered my arm and led her onto the floor, just as I had done with the first partner I danced with – at high school! It was a foxtrot; I mentally patted myself on the back for recognizing it, and we adopted the usual stance, then she led and I followed as best I could, quickly picking up the rhythm and the nuances of her dancing style. We made it once around the floor, then were joined by most of the others, which seriously impeded our progress, as Margarite’s sweeping style was now constrained to small steps. The advantage of this was that we had to move closer together, so I could feel her body pressed against mine, causing my already semi-hard cock to enlarge in a manner that would have been embarrassing if Margarite’s body hadn’t kept it in hiding.
“I can feel you against my pussy,” she said quietly into my ear at one stage, “It feels really nice. Let’s not be too late and I do hope you can stay the night with me, darling.”
“Yes, to both of those,” I replied, looking forward to removing her single item of clothing and putting my hard cock into the sheath where I knew it would fit admirably. I wondered for a few seconds how Celeste would think about me contemplating making love to this beautiful woman and decided that it was something we would both have to live with if we were to pursue our lives as escorts. The first few times would be the most difficult, I had no doubt.
We danced several dances then we sat back at our table, content to watch others enjoying themselves on the floor. Not so the others; immediately Margarite was approached by a man, who looked to be early 60s, and asked to dance. She stood unhesitatingly and was escorted to the floor, blowing me a kiss over her shoulder. That left the way clear for other women to approach me and I ended up dancing with a series of women, all of whom could dance better than I could and were old enough to be my mother, if not grandmother. Fortunately, as I had no desire to find myself in bed with any of them, my cock behaved itself and I survived the unfamiliar exercise relatively unscathed, except for an increased awareness of my lack of fitness.
The band took a break so Margarite and I returned to our seats. I asked if she wanted a drink and she told me to order us both whatever was my favorite. I returned a few minutes later with two JDs and ice. She seemed never to have had this before so sipped it carefully, then smiled in approval.
“I think a few of these would soon have me on my ear, or in bed with my legs wide apart,” she grinned at me.
“Hopefully the latter. Drink up and I’ll get you a few more.”
She seemed to find this hilarious, and laughed for a time before draining the glass in one gulp and handing it to me for a refill. “I don’t really need this as a leg opener,” she explained, “But just in case I do . . . . “
I returned with two more glasses of the same but we sat on these awhile, both enjoying conversation with others who arrived at the table. Finally, Raymond came over and had a quiet word in Margarite’s ear. She turned to me and told me that there was a rule here that nobody left until the patron left and that several people needed to leave very soon, so we needed to leave now.
It seemed a strange rule, but then, it was not my club so who was I to judge. Once more I stood, took Margarite’s chair as she rose, and we headed to the doors to leave. Apparently, someone had called Harold and he was waiting with the car. I saw Margarite in then entered the other side, Harold closing the door after me, then departing for Margarite’s apartment.
There is something quite erotic about being driven by a chauffeur to a woman’s apartment, in the certain knowledge that you would be spending the night with her; especially when you both knew you had her panties in your pocket and that she was naked beneath her outer clothing. It must have affected us both as she began rubbing her hand up and down my inner thigh, never getting high enough to touch or even approach my cock, but creating feelings of desire nonetheless. I reciprocated, sliding my hand up her partly exposed left leg, rolling it over until I was caressing the inside of her smooth, soft thigh, moving higher with each stroke but, like her, never high enough to touch her pussy or even feel any hairs against my hand. This situation may not have remained in check had we not arrived at the apartment in a short time. Harold opened her door and helped her out, while I also exited the car, then she once again took my arm and we walked to the elevator and she used her key to access her penthouse apartment.
Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
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