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Authors: Joan Elizabeth Lloyd

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BOOK: Made For Sex
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Her orgasm clutched at his cock, drawing his climax from him. “Yes. Now!” she groaned. “Do it.” He thrust upward once, twice, then came, hard. Almost without movement, their mutual orgasms continued for long seconds. Ronnie collapsed pulling Tim with her and they dozed, tangled together.

Later, Tim stretched. “That was amazing.”

“It certainly was. You were perfect.”

He sighed and smiled. “We were perfect. I never knew making love could be so wonderful. Can we do this again sometime soon?”

“As long as we don't get confused. I enjoy fucking you, and we're friends. But that's all. Jack and I have a special thing and I love him very much.”

“I understand. I can keep everything in perspective. Okay?”

“Okay. And you'll take some pictures of me sometime?”

“I'd love to.”

An hour later, Ronnie arrived home to find Jack waiting for her. “How did it go, love?” he asked.

“It was fabulous and I think very…how should I say it…educational. How are you?”

“You know, I'm surprised at how I am. I'm great, and horny as a goat just thinking about you with that boy.”

Ronnie grinned. “Well, we could go upstairs and work off that excitement.” She walked over to Jack's chair, knelt between his knees, and unbuckled his belt. As she unzipped his fly she brushed his hard cock. “Or maybe we could stay right here.” She separated the sides of the fly in his shorts allowing his hard cock to spring forth. “What's your pleasure?”

“You're my pleasure,” Jack said softly. “So much pleasure.”

Ronnie made a tight ring of her index finger and thumb and slowly slid that ring down the length of Jack's cock. With her fingers tightly encircling the base of her husband's cock, Ronnie licked the tip with the point of her tongue. Then she kissed the tiny hole in the end. “Your cock is so hard—like warm velvet over steel.” She sucked the end into her wet mouth and slowly slid the length of it into her throat.

Jack watched his wife's head bob in his lap, unable to control the frantic excitement bubbling inside him. His hips bucked and his hot come tried to rush through the tight ring of her fingers. “Oh babe, let me. I'm so horny.”

“Let you come?” she said, letting her breath cool Jack's wet cock. “Release my fingers?”

“Yes.”

She sucked in his cock and then pulled back. “Say please.”

“Please, babe.”

Ronnie released her fingers and took Jack's entire thick cock into her mouth, sucking and flicking her tongue over the tip. Almost immediately hot come filled her mouth. As fast as she swallowed, some thick liquid escaped from the corners of her mouth.

When Ronnie had licked all the stickiness from Jack's cock, she sat back and said, “Now, let's go upstairs and we'll make love nice and slow.”

Jack grinned his agreement.

Three days later, Ronnie stormed to the door, waving an envelope, as Jack arrived home. “You'll never believe what came in the mail today.”

Jack could tell she was furious. “Calm down, babe, and tell me what happened.”

“TJ sent me a check for three hundred dollars and a thank-you note for the evening I spent with Tim.”

“So why are you so angry?” Jack said, dropping his briefcase on the hall table.

“I didn't do this to get paid. I feel like a whore.”

“But he was going to pay a prostitute anyway. Why shouldn't you take the money?”

Ronnie released her breath. “I am not a whore.”

“No one said you were.”

“But doesn't this make me one? Sex for money.”

“Stop being judgmental,” Jack said walking into the kitchen. “You had fun, Tim had fun, and TJ was delighted with the way everything turned out. And Tim's a better person because of your help. Right?”

“Yeah, but….” She was flustered.

“Don't but me. How can this be wrong when no one's been hurt?”

“But I'm not a…” Ronnie paused.

“Hooker, call girl, prostitute, whore?” Jack said. “Words. Just words with all kinds of bullshit behind them. Stop using labels and think. Was anyone hurt?”

“No.”

“You performed a service, and did it well. Right?”

“Yes.”

“So you should be rewarded. Of course, you could send the check back….”

“I could.”

“But you don't want to. So the end result is that you had fun and got paid for it. A dream job.”

“I guess I never thought of it that way.” She dropped into a chair. “God, I did have fun.”

“And so did we that night, if you remember.” He groaned loudly and pressed a hand against the small of his back. “Our acrobatics almost put me out of commission for good.”

Ronnie laughed. “You're right, you know. I am being silly.” She stared at the check. “Three hundred dollars for having a good fuck. Seems almost too good to be true.”

“So buy yourself something extravagant. Buy some sexy lingerie and gift wrap your gorgeous body for me.”

“I could squander this. It's like found money.”

“Yes, it is. You know,” he paused, “my clients are sometimes out-of-town visitors who need to be entertained. Dinner, a show, intelligent conversation, and afterward…well, that's between the client and his date. If you think you'd like to earn some extra money….”

“Prostitution?”

“Fun and games and a little cash on the side. And only if you want to.”

“How much cash on the side?” she said, amazed at how excited she suddenly was by the idea.

“I've never been involved directly, but from what I understand they pay anywhere from three hundred to one thousand dollars per evening. For adult entertainment.”

Ronnie's eyes widened. “One thousand dollars???”

Jack nodded.

“I'm flabbergasted. For doing what we've been doing anyway. Would you be okay with it, me with other men?”

“Well, if you'll tell me afterward a little about what happens, the idea turns me on.”

“I won't violate any confidences, you understand.”

“Of course not.” He saw the gleam in Ronnie's eye. “Interested?”

“I think I might be.”

He took her arm. “This conversation has made me horny. Wanna practice for your new profession? Or I could conduct your preemployment physical.”

Ronnie headed for the stairs. “Last one to the bedroom has to sleep in the wet spot.”

Chapter
3

“A
nd that was how this began,” Ronnie told Carla. “Tim took these pictures of me, you know.”

“He really does great work,” Carla said.

“He does, doesn't he? He's got a few girlfriends now, and he's marvelous in bed. He loves women, and it shows in his photographs.”

“I love happy endings.”

“Me too.”

“And this works for you, this call girl thing?”

“It does. I make a nice living and I meet fascinating people.”

Carla had a thousand questions. “Have you ever had a bad experience? You know, someone who gets abusive and wants something you don't want to do, that sort of thing?”

“No one has ever gotten out of line. I screen my friends very well. They're all recommended by other friends. I never give out my address until I'm satisfied they're safe and I have a private, unlisted phone number. And I never answer that phone. I let the answering machine take a message and I call back or I hear who it is and then pick up. Our first date must begin with dinner somewhere nice. I can size someone up quickly and if I don't get good vibes we part right then.”

“Have you ever had an evening go wrong?”

“I've had several men who wanted things I wasn't willing to do,” Ronnie answered. When Carla raised an eyebrow, she continued, “One man wanted me to urinate on him as he masturbated and another wanted to give me an enema.”

When Carla made an ugly face, Ronnie said, “Don't judge. These activities give them sexual pleasure and that's their business. And some of the things I enjoy would turn others off. But sometimes I have to tell a customer that his fantasy won't work for me.” Ronnie's smile was warm. “The urination guy was a really nice man, actually, and he offered me more money. I explained that money wasn't the issue and I suggested that he find someone else. We finished our meal and spent a pleasant hour discussing movies and he paid for dinner. I never saw him again.”

“Any others?”

“A man named Harry was recommended by an old friend. We had dinner and talked about his fantasies. He was heavily into control and he wanted to dominate me, run things, and spank me when I was naughty. That would have been very difficult for me, since I'm a dominant personality myself.” She laughed. “I never play with anyone when I can't have some fun too.”

“Control?”

“Lots of people have fantasies that revolve around power and control. This guy wanted to be in charge of all the action. Actually he had another interesting fantasy. He wanted to have me take a pretend pill that would render me incapable of resisting anything he wanted to do. And there's another man who wanted to tie me to a bed. Not my thing either.”

Carla felt a jolt of electricity flow through her body and directly into her pussy. The control fantasies sounded wonderful to her. “From the look on your face,” Ronnie said, “I think we've found something you'd enjoy. Should I give you a phone number? He'll pay a thousand dollars for one night.”

“Holy…. Not yet,” Carla said, realizing that she was more than a little interested in Ronnie's work.

“Hmmm. I don't have to be psychic to guess what you're thinking, darling,” Ronnie said, “but you realize that this isn't for everyone. You have to have strong, good feelings about yourself and you have to enjoy sex. The money is just an extra added attraction. In my mind, the fact that the money is secondary is what makes me an entertainer, not a whore.”

“Listen,” Carla said, glancing at her watch, amazed that it was already after three. “I have to get home and I have a lot of thinking to do. What day next week works for you?”

“I'll be away next week.” Ronnie laughed. “A friend has invited me on a cruise. Delicious food, wine, dancing, cavorting under the Caribbean skies, the works.” She winked. “And I get twenty-five hundred dollars for little old me.”

Carla whistled. “Holy shit.”

“Mmmm. And he's a doll. Really an interesting man.”

“Why you?” How could she ask what she wanted to know without it sounding like an insult? “I don't mean you're not great, you understand, but why…well, you know.”

“He's got the funny idea that no ‘nice girl' would like the kind of cavorting we do.” She settled back. “Actually, the entire cruise is devoted to dominance. It's an annual event and there's a whole group going. We've taken an entire separate area of the ship. I will be his Mistress Ronnie for the week and he'll be my sex slave. I've got a bunch of special toys and outfits for both of us.”

“Have you ever done anything like this before?”

“We met two years ago on this very cruise. Another woman and I swapped slaves for an evening and Bob enjoyed being with me so much that we repeated the trip last year and will again next week. We play during the year as well.” She flipped to the photo of the gray-haired schoolmarm in the sensible shoes and smiled. “Bobby's a very difficult student.”

“I'm speechless.” Ronnie shot Carla an understanding glance.

“Let's see. The following week the boys are home from camp and we're going to a lake in the Adirondacks with my folks.”

“Then I'm away,” Ronnie said. “Jack and I are going to Disney World, of all places, for two weeks in August. I've never been there and despite all the warnings about the heat I'm like a kid looking forward to the rides and the parade of lights. And we'll siesta after lunch, of course. Jack and me, an air-conditioned room, and a king-sized bed.”

“You and Jack have a good thing going, don't you?”

“Yeah, we do. It's just this damn
blasted
business of his. He's gone more than he's home. But we have two weeks of sun and fun to look forward to and I, for one, intend to make the best of it.”

“It looks like we won't see each other until September.”

“I'm afraid so. You know, I'll miss you.”

“Me too.”

Ronnie checked the tiny date book she kept in her purse. “Okay. How about the day after Labor Day? Lunch here.”

“That sounds great.” The two women bussed cheeks. “You're quite something,” Carla said.

“So are you. And I'm so glad we found each other again.”

“Me too,” Carla said. “Me too.”

During the month that Ronnie was away Carla did a lot of thinking. She was intrigued and titillated by the idea of Ronnie's business and the prospect of joining her was never far from Carla's mind.

With the boys in camp, Carla spent the first week at home, pretty much alone, cleaning and shopping and fantasizing about being tied to a bed with a handsome man standing over her, watching her useless struggles. One morning she lay in bed until after nine, dreaming about being under some man's power, letting him do whatever he wanted without being able to resist him. With that picture in her mind, she slipped her hand between her legs and rubbed her clit until she came.

She spent the second week in the Adirondacks with her three rambunctious boys and her parents. They had a wonderful time together, swimming, horseback riding, playing softball and frisbee, and eating everything in sight, while blaming their astounding appetites on the mountain air. And every man she encountered became the center of a fantasy in which she was a paid courtesan. Carla spent the entire vacation in a state of frustrated sexual excitement.

More than once she looked at her three high-spirited sons and thought about their future. All three were exceptionally bright and all would be able to select from the best colleges. The question was would she be able to afford it. There was money set aside, but would it be enough? Or was money merely an excuse to do what excited and intrigued her? What did it matter? She had made up her mind and she knew it.

Trying not to lie too much, she talked to her mother one evening about the possibility of spending more time with her grandchildren. “I've spoken about my old college roommate Ronnie,” she told her mother one evening over coffee after their return to Bronxville.

“How in the world did you find Ronnie?”

“I literally ran into her.” Carla told her mother the story of her accidental encounter with her old friend, reassuring her that the medical scare had been really nothing.

“And how is Ronnie?” Mrs. MacKensie asked. “I remember the vacation she spent with us. She was such a lovely girl.”

“She's hardly a girl now,” Carla said. “She's married and she owns her own business.”

“Your father and I were always sure she'd go far. She seemed like such an intelligent girl.”

Carla smiled to herself. “I wanted to talk to you about that. She wants me to join her business part-time. It'll mean extra money and I could use it for the boys' college fund. The costs are getting astronomical.” From upstairs, she could hear the laughter that always accompanied her father's efforts to settle the boys in bed.

“What kind of business?”

“It's a service business of some kind. Public relations. I don't know many of the details but it will involve entertaining clients in the city some evenings.”

“That's wonderful, dear,” her mother said. “You need some other interests in your life besides your sons.”

“It would mean that you would have to stay with the boys more often. A few nights a week and occasional weekends.”

“Weekends? How come? Not that I mind, you understand.”

“God only knows,” she answered, “but Ronnie warned me about some out-of-town stuff. I don't know how often, but from time to time.”

“That's great,” Mrs. MacKensie said, laughing. “Force me to spend time with the boys. Twist my arm.”

Carla laughed as she always did with her mother. “Thanks, Mom.”

“And maybe you'll meet someone nice at one of those meetings. Maybe your friend Ronnie knows a nice man for you.”

Carla laughed harder. “Mother, please.” When her mother raised an eyebrow, Carla said, “Okay. Maybe she does. I'll keep my eyes open.”

“And if a date keeps you in the city, like overnight….” She winked. “Just give me a call and I'll see to the boys.”

An early September heat wave baked New York City and the humidity that hung over the metropolis caused Carla's short-sleeved rayon blouse to stick to her back. She walked up the brownstone's front steps and rang Ronnie's bell. “Come on in,” Ronnie called from inside. “It's open.”

Carla walked into the foyer and heard, “Lock it behind you, will you? Then come into the kitchen.”

“Sure,” Carla called, throwing the dead bolt.

Carla walked to the back of the building and into the large, airy kitchen. Ronnie already had lunch laid out on the table: a green salad, a bowl of crab salad, and a cold pasta with basil. Crisp rolls nestled in a napkin-covered basket and a bottle of white wine stood opened beside two crystal glasses.

“Oh, Carla,” Ronnie said, hugging her friend, “I've missed you.”

“Me too. How was Disney World?”

“Sensational. The rides were a thrill, the lines were short, and the siestas were…athletic.” She picked up a small package wrapped in silver paper. “I hope you don't mind, but I bought you a present.”

“A present? I didn't think to get you anything, I'm afraid.”

“I didn't expect that you had,” Ronnie said. “But I saw this and couldn't resist.”

Carla tore off the paper and opened the small box. Inside was a pewter figurine of a dragon with his wings spread, his head thrown back as if roaring. He perched on a faceted crystal globe, his talons buried in the transparent ball.

Ronnie watched Carla lift the four-inch-high dragon so that the light turned into rainbows within the crystal. “The dragon is for fantasy,” Ronnie said. “And for dreams that can be made to come true.”

“You know that I've decided to join you in your business, don't you?”

“I knew a month ago when I watched your eyes light up. Actually, I probably knew when we met again that first afternoon. After all, we were roommates for three years and I knew you very well then.” She poured wine into the two glasses and raised hers in toast. “To fantasy. And to making fantasies come true for everyone involved.”

“To fantasy,” Carla said, sipping the crisp white wine.

Over lunch Carla told Ronnie about her week with her boys and her parents. “How are your folks?” Ronnie asked. “I've always loved your mother. And your dad's a stitch.”

“They were always fond of you too. They asked to be remembered to you and want you to come up for dinner sometime.”

“I'll do that.”

“And how was the cruise?”

“I'd rather tell you about the entire week some other time,” she said. “It's a little early in your education for that story.”

“Was it that shocking?”

“Not for me. Trust me for a few weeks,” Ronnie asked and Carla demurred.

BOOK: Made For Sex
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