Authors: J.M. Hall
This book is a work of fiction. All names, characters and events are the product of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.
Copyright © 2014 J.M. Hall
Cover by Bookfly Design Inc.
This book is dedicated to JV and AD. As different as you two are, you both have one thing in common: you never stopped believing in me, even when I didn’t always believe in myself.
I’ve worked as an escort since I was twenty years old. If that weren’t whorish enough, I also held down a day job at a PR firm.
The two weren’t as different as most people would think. Both were considered “client service” jobs with odd hours and frequent last-minute requests. The main difference between prostitution and PR was that selling my body was more lucrative than selling my mind.
Tonight, I was being paid five hundred dollars to have sex with another man’s wife while he watched. I was scheduled to meet the couple at the W Hotel’s Times Square location, which meant I had to venture into the bumper-to-bumper gridlocked hell known as Midtown Manhattan. Still, I couldn’t complain. For a young man who grew up in working-class Philadelphia, my life was pretty damn good.
I breezed through the hotel lobby and went straight for the elevators, which whisked me up to the seventh-floor lounge.
It was a sleek, modern space awash in yellow and pink light, complete with wraparound sofas, Japanese floor lamps and glass sculptures suspended from the ceiling.
My clients sat at the illuminated bar. I recognized the husband, a standard-issue corporate type who probably worked in finance. He was handsome enough; he even had a full head of hair. The wife, however, was the one that really caught my gaze. Why did she look so familiar?
No, it can’t be…
I moved forward, each step bringing me closer to the truth. The light brown hair was the first clue, as was the fair skin and petite frame. When I was finally within striking distance, I spotted the red lips, the perfect slope of a nose. This woman wasn’t just another client. She was my first love.
It was Vanessa.
She looked up, caught me gazing at her from no more than ten feet away. Seeing her blue eyes suddenly made me feel sixteen again, for that’d been the age when we’d fallen in love. Sadly, she’d also broken my heart.
She smiled at me, tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.
“Matthew?” her husband said, extending his hand. “Glad you could make it.”
“Hmm? Oh, yes. Good to finally meet you, Eric.”
I took a seat between them at the bar. I didn’t know what the hell was going on. Had Vanessa found my website and then encouraged Eric to hire me for the night? Did she tell Eric everything about our past -- even her pregnancy and subsequent abortion?
Eric ordered some drinks: a Heineken for him, a glass of White Zinfandel for Vanessa, while I settled on a glass of champagne. Vanessa smiled, joked that champagne was an upgrade from the bottles of Yuengling we used to smuggle on campus back in high school.
“I don’t know what you mean,” I said. “You must have me mistaken with someone else. We’ve never met.”
“It’s all right, Jesse. You don’t have to pretend anymore.”
I looked back at the elevators and wondered if I should just leave. Why had Vanessa done this? Why out of all the escorts in New York City did she pick
to have sex with her while her husband watched?
“I’m sorry we couldn’t be more forthcoming,” Eric said. “But when my wife saw your profile online, she immediately recognized you. She insisted that you be the one we have this little adventure with.”
“Jesse, please stay.” Vanessa’s hand brushed my shoulder, the gentle scrape of her nails sending chills up my spine. Looking at those blue eyes of hers… it was like I was a horny teenager all over again.
“I understand this must be a bit much for you,” Eric added. “As such, I’ve decided to make it worth your while, financially speaking.”
He slid a white envelope across the counter and told me to look inside. Normally, counting money in front of a client was considered rude, but he insisted I do just that. After I finished my drink, I opened the envelope and counted the bills. Turned out, he didn’t have five-hundred dollars cash as we’d previously agreed.
Instead, he’d handed me two grand.
We’d left the bar and settled in the hotel room.
It wasn’t my first time inside a room at the W Times Square, but they never ceased to amaze me. Situated in what had to be the busiest, most boisterous part of the city, the suites were almost like fortresses in the sky. One could look out at the streets below -- the flickering lights, the throngs of pedestrians -- yet not hear a sound.
Vanessa and I sat on the sofa facing the flat screen television. Embarrassingly enough, we were watching the 1966 animated classic
The Grinch Who Stole Christmas
, another one of our favorites from our high school days in New Hope, Pennsylvania.
“How the hell did all of this come about?” I asked her.
“Eric and I have been together for a while now,” she said. “We needed something new. The idea of bringing a third person into the bedroom was something we’d considered for a while, but there’s a lot of risk involved, too.”
“Risk? You mean you’re afraid of STDs? Or getting pregnant?”
“More like inviting someone into the most intimate area of your life. When I saw your profile online, I couldn’t believe it.
Couldn’t believe you were still doing this, for starters.”
“What can I say? It’s hard to turn down thousands of dollars for sex. Especially when I’m usually more than happy to do it for free.”
“Is that it? Or is there something more?”
“That’s the mistake women make regarding men, you know. They overanalyze. They’re convinced that there’s some hidden meaning behind everything a man does.”
“And there isn’t?”
“Do you want to know the
secret behind men? The big secret is… there is no big secret. What you see is what you get.”
I glanced over my shoulder and looked into the bedroom. Eric paced across the floor, loosening his tie. The poor man. All he did was try to add a little variety to his wife’s sex life, and now he was a nervous wreck.
“Are you sure you want to go through with this? Not that I don’t appreciate Eric’s generosity, but…”
“You always were the more experienced one,” she said. “I’m in your hands. God knows I’ve been in them before.”
At that moment, I had a choice. I could have left, put this entire situation behind me and continued on with my life as usual. My sense of reason told me that getting involved with Vanessa again was a mistake, but my heart told me I couldn’t possibly walk away.
I kissed her on the cheek. “Let’s go to bed.”
Vanessa and I stood at the foot of the bed. I wrapped my arms around her waist, pulled her against my chest. We stood there for a moment, lost in each other’s eyes while Eric sat on the loveseat near the window. Slowly, I leaned in and kissed her on the lips. She moaned against my mouth, then bit down on my lower lip and gave it a quick tug.
“Aggressive, are you?” I said.
“You don’t know the half of it.”
She plunged her mouth against my own, deepening the kiss with the wet glide of her tongue. Her hand slid over my abdomen and down to my groin, where she cupped my balls and gave them a gentle squeeze. She’d never been so bold when we were teenagers, but times had changed.
I broke free from her kiss, then let my mouth find its way to her ear.
“Easy. Squeeze any harder and I won’t be able to have children.”
“Don’t be such a pussy.”
“Oh? Well, I suggest you behave yourself, or else I won’t lick your cunt before I get around to fucking you.”
Before she could react, I turned her around and unzipped her dress. It fell to her ankles in a pile of silk, leaving only her bra and panties behind. I unhooked her bra, pinched her nipples between my thumbs and forefingers. And though I thought of taking her panties off immediately, I decided she should keep them on.
“Get on the bed,” I commanded. “And spread your legs.”
She did as I asked, after which I stripped down to my boxers. I leaned over her, kissed her mouth, her neck, then gathered her breast in my hand before sucking on the nipple. I could feel my cock straining against my boxers, but I’d have to hold on for a little while longer.
I brushed my fingers across the lips of her pussy, then did the same with my tongue. I could all but taste the dampness between her legs, but I wouldn’t eat her just yet.
“Is this to your liking?” I asked.
“You son of a bitch…”
“I’ll take that as a yes.” I tore her panties off with my teeth, then licked a line up the slit of her pussy. She bucked her hips towards my face, all but thrusting herself onto my mouth. With her right leg draped over my shoulder, I slid my tongue inside of her and licked in smooth, upward strokes. I broke free for a brief second, then used my fingers to spread her open and reveal her clit.
I brushed the bud with my lips before tracing it with the tip of my tongue. Suddenly, she grew warmer, wetter. My cock ached in protest, eager to be touched as well. I gave myself a few quick strokes, then turned my attention back to the task at hand.
Vanessa squeezed my face between her thighs and raked her fingernails through my hair. I slid my middle and index fingers inside of her, then continued to lick her, taste her, kiss her pussy as I would her mouth. The triple threat of my lips, tongue and fingers was pushing her closer and closer to the edge -- until she finally cried out my name and came.
I gave her one last lick, then kissed the inside of her thighs. I could still feel her wetness against my face, the scent more intoxicating than any perfume.
“Not done yet,” I said. “Condoms?”
She gestured towards the nightstand. I stood up, peeled off my boxers and let her reach out and stroke my cock. The tip glistened with a hint of what would come -- no pun intended.
“Are you going to let go of me, or would you like to put the condom on yourself?”
“There’s an idea.” She reached back, grabbed a condom and tore it out of the wrapper. Grinning, she wrapped it along the length of my cock and gave me one last squeeze before letting go.
Together, we went between the sheets, and at long last I slid inside of her. Her hands seized my ass and brought me in tighter, deeper. I pumped in and out of her with increasing speed, stopping only when she pressed her hands against my chest and told me to roll over.
Flat on my back, I let her continue. She rocked her hips up and down, breasts bouncing with each move. She leaned down, grazed them across my face and let me suck on the nipple. I gripped her hips, steadied her as she continued to ride me. She picked up speed, the tight heat of her pussy gripping me like a vise.
Leaning back, she grinded against me even harder than before. I held onto her ass, kept her from slipping, and when she collapsed atop of me for one last kiss, we came together.
Sweat trickled off her brow and landed on my own. Her breasts laid against my chest, then dragged across my abdomen as she eased herself off of me.
“You’re amazing,” I said. “Where did you learn how to fuck like that?”
She wrapped herself in the sheets beside me. Her foot brushed my calf and before I knew it, I’d pulled her in close as if she were my own wife.
I kissed her brow, closed my eyes and nuzzled her hair. It felt good -- too good for an over-glorified one night stand. Much as I loathed admitting it, Vanessa was
wife. I shut my eyes, tried to push the thought out of my mind. Then again, where was Eric?
I opened my eyes and saw that he was no longer in the loveseat by the window. I’d managed to completely ignore him while fucking Vanessa, which was probably the best course of action, all things considered.
“Will you stay a while?”
“In bed? With you?”
“You don’t have to if you don’t want to. I know we only paid for drinks and sex, but… I don’t want you to leave.”
“Then I won’t. I never left you before, and I don’t plan on starting now.”
The room was dark when I woke up.
I glanced at the bedside clock; it was almost 1 a.m. Slowly, I got out of bed, careful not to wake Vanessa. I gathered my clothes off the floor, then headed into the bathroom. It was smaller than I’d thought it would be, and featured a white tile floor with matching sink and countertop, along with a standing glass shower.
I put down the toilet seat and placed my clothes atop the lid. I stole a glance in the large mirror and couldn’t help but chuckle at my reflection. My hair was a mess, my face was still flushed red, and sweat glistened off my chest and abdomen.
In other words, I looked like I’d just gotten laid.
I walked inside the shower and turned on the hot water. Soon, the bathroom was hazy with a curtain of steam. I craned my neck up to the showerhead, let the hot water pour over my face. I washed my hair and body, and let all my worries go down the drain. In fact, I’d let my guard down so much, I didn’t even hear Eric come inside.
At first I thought it was an honest mistake on his part -- until I saw that he too was completely naked. I couldn’t help but roll my eyes. I’d been in the game long enough to know what was happening here.
My best guess was that Eric was bisexual, and he was interested in a one-on-one session for himself.
I turned off the water and stepped out of the shower stall. Water dripped off my naked body and onto the floor below. Eric didn’t say anything; he just stood there gawking at me. I asked him if he was enjoying the view, and reminded him that during our initial discussion, I specifically told him I didn’t service men.
“My apologies if I wasn’t clear,” I added. “If you’re interested in that sort of thing, there’s a very handsome colleague of mine named Adam. I’d be happy to make an introduction if you like.”
Eric stepped forward and closed the distance between us. His face was inches from mine, so close that I could feel his breath against my cheek. I stood my ground, not even flinching in the midst of his advance. It would take a lot more than what he had to scare me off.
If I could handle the advances of a thirty-something man at the age of sixteen, I could handle a closeted husband.
“I’ll give you what you want,” Eric said. “Name your price.”
“I’m not for sale. Like I said, Adam is your man. Let me call him for you…?” I stepped away, grabbed a white towel off the rack and wrapped it around my waist. Eric’s face fell in disappointment, and for a brief moment I felt bad for him. After all, what kind of asshole was I? I was a male prostitute turning down good money for another round in bed.
But I didn’t have sex with men. I just didn’t. Not since high school, when my English teacher crossed a line no adult ever should.
“Don’t look so crestfallen,” I said, running a comb through my hair. “We live in New York City. There’s no shortage of whores. Trust me. I have a day job at a PR firm.”
“She still loves you, you know.”
“Our marriage is a sham. I needed a wife for work. You can’t be gay and work in finance. At least not be named senior partner at an investment bank.”
I turned around. “You’re full of shit. Vanessa would never do that.”
Eric laughed. “I guess she’s changed a bit since high school, hasn’t she?”
I grabbed my clothes and moved out of the bathroom. I didn’t want to wake Vanessa either, so I moved into the living room and hastily dressed. When Eric reappeared, he too was clothed. Thankfully.
“Wait,” he said. “Don’t go.”
“No offense, but this is getting a little weird, even for me. Thanks for the money.” I paused, thought of a peace offering. “You can have the rest of it back if you want. The fifteen-hundred, that is. We agreed on five-hundred for the night.”
“I know what we agreed on, Jesse.”
“Please don’t use my real name.”
“Because you don’t know me, that’s why.”
“I know enough to have made a pass at you in the shower. It worked for Bobby, didn’t it? That was your English teacher’s name if I recall.”
“How did you…?”
“Vanessa told me everything, Jesse.
Frost gripped my heart. My stomach sank to the floor, and I could actually feel my hands begin to tremble. Had Vanessa truly told Eric everything that’d happened back at New Hope Academy? Every last detail? No, she couldn’t have done that. I refused to believe it.
“I’m out of here,” I said. “Have a nice life.”
I walked out of the room, took the elevator down to the lobby, and hailed a cab home.