My summer was quite busy that year. Between the marathon weekends at Dick’s and my busy work schedule, I was constantly on the move. Trying to balance it all was challenging, but I loved the rush of everything.
And I will let you in on a little secret…I loved being fucked every night.
The escort business was booming. I had a huge clientele and my nights were booked, sometimes weeks in advance. I was in such demand that I rarely had to meet with new clients. But, on occasion, I asked Gina to book with me new people. I loved that feeling. The nervous twinge of meeting a new lover for the first time made me wet with anticipation.
In spite of my booked schedule, I managed to make time for friends and family. I would carve out time with my best girlfriends. Most of them had no idea what I was doing. They would have been appalled at the thought of having sex for money. Funny thing, most of them were married, stay at home wives…having sex with their husbands for money. Same thing, different label. One my best friends, Paula, knew all about what I did. She was open-minded and loved hearing my naughty stories.
She was a gorgeous, raven-haired woman. Tall and curvy, she was beautiful. We met at work (my legit day job). She was new to the area and had recently relocated with her long-term boyfriend, leaving her hometown in North Carolina, to be with him. I just loved Paula. We were fast friends. She was my safe space. I could tell her anything, and I told her everything. Not long after, she and John purchased a house, and then they broke up. They had this volatile, on-again/off-again relationship. Much like Sid and Nancy, but without the heroin. After this last breakup, Paula met a great guy and decided to get married. And just like that…they did.
I was at home on a Sunday afternoon, spending the allotted time with my parents, when I heard the faint buzz of my pager from the bedroom. I knew it was Gina. But my first call was not until 10:00 pm. It was only 4:30. I wondered if they’d canceled. I called her as soon as I could.
“Hey Gina, what’s up?” I asked.
“Not much, doll. You up for taking on a new client?” she asked.
“When?” I asked.
“He’s asked for someone to be over around 7:00. It’s a house call. I know the area. It’s a nice neighborhood. You may get yourself a new regular…”
She knew how to sell me. Seriously, I learned most of my sales techniques from Gina. She was the master.
“Sure! I will go.”
She was pleased. She said, “I think you’ll like this guy. He sounds like your type.”
I laughed and said, “Really? So what is my type?”
“You like them dirty. I get the feeling you’re in for a fun night. Call me and check in when you get there.”
At 7:00, I pulled into up to the house. It was a nice 2-story Cape Cod with a large privacy fence in the back. I noticed the gray Mercedes in the driveway with North Carolina plates. I instantly thought of Paula…she was from North Carolina. Interesting.
I walked up to the door and rang the bell.
I was not prepared. Simply, not prepared.
Standing in front of me was John, Paula’s ex. There was a look of recognition in his eyes and then I watched his lips curl into a most sinister grin. I didn’t know whether to be excited or scared.
“Why, hello there. Don’t I know you?” he smirked. SHIT! This had never happened before…being on a call with someone I knew! I was at a loss for what to do…what to say…so I smiled back as I stepped into his house, brushing by him. I looked back with a naughty grin and said, “You do, John. But I think you are about to get to know me on a much deeper level.”
And just like that, I set the tone.
Once inside, I called Gina to check in. There was no way for me to tell her the situation, as he was standing right there. I just did my typical check-in and before I hung up, he asked to speak with her.
He stared at me as I gave him the phone.
“Hello, Gina. Yes…everything is fine. It’s very good. I would actually like to book an extra hour, if that’s possible.”
Gina asked to speak with me and I consented, so it was set. I was going to spend two hours there. With my best friend’s ex-boyfriend. Who was paying me as an escort. You truly cannot make this shit up.
We retired to the couch for small talk. I was more nervous that usual. This guy actually knew me…my real name…where I worked. I wondered if he would tell anyone. My mind was racing. He could clearly see that I was uneasy.
“Tess, don’t worry about anything. This is a transaction between us. It’s business. I am not going to tell anyone, and I know you won’t say anything. Relax. It’s good.” He stroked my face and it put me at ease.
“Now take off the fucking skirt, you pretty little whore. Your sweet ass is mine for two hours.”
(To be continued)
(Photo credit, Pinterest)