The Gigolo (6 page)

‘That would be delightful, Kara, but I’m afraid I have another appointment. We could always do it again…if you wanted to.’

‘Of course I do,’
Kara smiled.

‘I look forward to that.
’ He kissed her before turning her around and sending her down the steps to the waiting taxi.

She put on her sunhat and dark glasses and climbed
in. She waved as it pulled away. He waved back.

‘St John’s Wood,’ she told the driver and he scrutinised her in his rear view mirror as if he knew her from somewhere. Kara didn’t tell him. He’d pass a billboard soon enough and it would dawn on him.

CHAPTER FOUR

William
turned the camera off, took the full disk out and slipped it into a brown envelope addressed to the address she’d supplied in her email. It was her office. He’d checked. He’d post it when he got back.

William
smiled. It had been an amazing date. He’d enjoyed Kara and been totally turned on by her natural beauty and the power of her unrestrained orgasms.

William
had an appointment with a regular in Sloane Square; otherwise he wouldn’t have been averse to keeping her a little longer, but he was confident that he’d given her more than she’d been expecting and that she’d soon be back for more of the same. That was his trade mark and he prided himself on providing an excellent service. If he played this right maybe Kara could become one of his regulars, too. He pondered that thought for a while. It left a thoughtful crease across the bridge of his nose. He really wasn’t sure he wanted Kara as a client. He would much rather have her as his lover, but it appeared that neither of their careers allowed for the luxury of a private life.

Laura
Finnegan’s house was too close to bother hailing a taxi, so he decided to walk, but as a bus passed by he hopped on and rode the strap to the next stop. His mind was fixed on the disc he’d left on the dresser. Kara Kavanagh had paid him handsomely to entertain her for the best part of the weekend but he couldn’t rid himself of the nagging doubt that there was something not quite right with this job but he couldn’t work out exactly what it was. He was vaguely worried that one of the tabloids had uncovered him as an upmarket escort rather than the mysterious descendant of Russian royalty property dealer he preferred to be known as. He even considered if it was wise to post it. No one had ever asked him to video his performance before and he was slightly suspicious.

The instructions she’d sent him had been clear
enough and he’d checked where they came from and even rung her at her office a couple of times just to be absolutely sure she was who she said she was.

“
I want to be seduced. Make believe you want me. Pursue me relentlessly until you get me into your bed and then use and humiliate me, video it and send it back to me.

I’ll pay
you for all the time you spend with me but I don’t want you to talk about this or money on the ‘date’.

And
don’t expect me to be easy. You’ll have to earn every penny of your fee.”

The bus passed a hoarding. Kara Kavanagh stared down at him from it.
He was being paranoid. Of course she wasn’t an undercover reporter. She was a tough business cookie with a delightfully soft and submissive centre. He’d seen her being interviewed by the BBC only last week, and the whole city, if not the entire country, knew her as this year’s Business Woman of the Year. She was the golden girl of British business – a shining beacon amongst the dim light of the dour economy. She hadn’t set him up – in fact, all this made her particularly high profile and fair game to be toppled off her lofty pedestal by the worst of the gutter press, and it was because of this that he knew she’d taken a huge leap of faith to trust him to do all the things she’d asked for in her email. He smiled. He’d enjoyed the chase, even if it had been stage managed, but he’d tried to add a little unexpected spice to the occasion and even begun to believe that they were on a real date, himself. Not that a woman like Kara Kavanagh would ever date a professional gigolo like him – even if he didn’t feel like one.

Much as he’d enjoyed her company
William found it a little sad that someone as beautiful and intelligent as her had to resort to paying someone like him to satisfy her needs. She should have a man who loved her. But as he pondered that thought he wished it could be him and his cock twitched in his pants. She’d got under his fucking skin. How the hell had he let that happen? She was just another client – even if her request was an unusual one – and he would treat her with as much respect as he did every other client he serviced through his working week and nothing more.

William
shrugged his shoulders and hopped off the bus. He had mortgages to pay and an expensive lifestyle to maintain. The downturn in the economy had hit his property interests really hard. He couldn’t afford to have too much of a conscience, nor to develop feelings for clients, so he pushed Miss Kavanagh and her amazing breasts and razor sharp wit to the back of his mind.

***

Laura Finnegan was one of his youngest clients – not that he had that many. He liked to keep a low profile and just took on enough ‘work’ to keep his head above water, but most of the women he serviced tended to be middle aged housewives looking to put the thrill back into their boring sex lives. He surmised that Laura was barely into her twenties but her husband was a middle aged tycoon.

William had
been satisfying Laura’s rather odd needs for the past two years and as he rang the doorbell he looked forward to the coffee and home-made biscuit she always offered him first. She was a beautiful girl, but strangely poised and genteel for her age and the polar opposite of her gangster like beast of a husband. William had trouble imagining this petite little woman pinned under, or even riding atop of her fat bastard husband and he thought it a shame that one so young should have to seek his services but it wasn’t his job to interfere in the lives of his clients or to make judgements concerning their sexual habits. His success was based on his professionalism and his discretion – not his opinions. Maybe she saw something he didn’t in her old, fat, balding millionaire husband.

‘You’re looking well Mrs Finnegan,’ he said, by way of polite conversation as he licked his fingers and drained
the last dregs of Columbian coffee from his bone china cup. 

‘Thank
you William.’ She pushed an envelope across the table towards him and got up from the table.

William pocketed
his fee as she left the room and had a crafty nose around the kitchen whilst he waited for Laura to prepare herself, but as usual, he found nothing to suggest that this couple were anything other than very neat and very rich. When the designated five minutes had passed he joined her in her husband’s study across the Victorian tiled hallway. The stench of cigar smoke still hung in the air. It always made him nervous when that happened. He didn’t want to get caught shafting the man’s wife over his desk.

Laura was standing in front of the large oak desk with her head bowed and hands neatly clasped together in front of her. Her dainty feet were now clad in black canvas plimsolls and he noticed that she was wearing new white ankle socks
today, but the navy gymslip and crisp white blouse were the same as always, as were the red ribbons she wore in her pigtails and the navy blue knickers he knew she had just pulled over that cute fleshy ass and would soon be pulling down again.

‘Take off your knickers,’ he said and watched as she slipped her feet out of the old fashioned garment and kicked them away with her foot.

William sat behind the desk.

‘Head up,’ he boomed and she immedia
tely snapped to attention, her breasts crushed almost flat beneath the childlike outfit. Her face was flushed and her hands were trembling and William could see that she was good and ready for her spanking.

‘I hear you’ve been a naughty girl
, again.’ William sat back in her husband’s huge leather chair.

‘Yes sir,’ she replied in a childlike voice.

‘You should be ashamed of yourself,’ he recited, and as usual, he watched the tears well in her eyes. He had no idea why she put herself through this torment every week and much as he would have liked to know, he wasn’t going to overstep his mark and ask. 

‘I’m sorry sir,’ she said.

‘Take off your plimsoll,’ William barked.

Laura balanced on one leg to ease the canvas shoe
off her foot and he caught a glimpse of her crotch as she did.

She hand
ed it to him, avoiding his gaze; so different from the self assured woman who had chatted to him in her kitchen only moments ago. She fascinated William. 

‘
Bend over my knee.’

William
had worked out his part in this little tableau a long time ago and always did his best to stay in character. He pulled up her little pleated dress to reveal the pale orbs of her fleshy buttocks and resisted the almost overwhelming temptation to fondle her inviting cheeks. And then he brought the rubber soled shoe down hard onto her exposed flesh. The slapping sound made his cock twitch beneath her belly.

William decided that t
he smell of rubber would always remind him of Laura Finnegan’s ripe, twin orbs glowing red after he’d beaten them.

She jerked in his lap and he enjoyed the friction against his growing organ as he watched her pale flesh quiver and the outline of the plimsoll appear on her left buttock. He did the same with her right cheek and waited for his signature mark to appear before repeating the procedure again
, and each time she jerked with the shock of his stinging blows but never once did she cry out even though the vicious red marks must have hurt like hell. William had increased the force of his blows over time but still she remained mute as he beat her.

‘You may stand up now
, and let this be a lesson to you to behave in future.’

‘Thank you
, sir.’ Laura snatched back the shoe he had warmed her buttocks with and almost ran from the room.

William waited the obligatory ten minutes before following after her and he found her in the hallway, dressed in jeans and sweater again and ready to show him out the door.
One day he was going to pluck up the courage to ask why she felt the need to be punished so regularly.

‘See you next
week, Mrs Finnegan,’ William called but she was eager to be rid of him, now. It was always the same – she’d had her kicks and now she just looked nervous and embarrassed and desperate to get him off the premises. He obliged with a smile and headed back towards home. This time he walked. The sun had sunk behind the four story town houses that lined the street and the air was a little cooler, now. His thoughts returned to his lunchtime appointment with Kara. It had been different…and extremely arousing. He was confused about his feelings for her. It should have been just another job but he found himself wishing they could have met under different circumstances.

***

The taxi pulled up outside Kara’s house. It was far too large for her and she rattled around in it on her own but her accountant called it an investment and had virtually railroaded her into purchasing it.

‘Is this it love?’
the driver asked as if someone as strangely dressed as her couldn’t possibly own such an impressive residence. She shoved a twenty pound note through the glass panel and this seemed to change his point of view but then he examined her face a little closer.

‘Hey, you’re that bird off the TV
, aren’t you? You sure don’t look like no millionaire hot shot financier right now, love.’ He laughed. Kara frowned at him.

‘Thanks
,’ she replied sarcastically as she climbed out of the cab but she didn’t really care what he thought. She was in love.

Kara
went straight upstairs and ran a bath. She felt different somehow – weird and a little spaced out – but also crammed full of a kind of bubbling excitement that made her want to shout and jump up and down like a child on Christmas morning…was this what love felt like?

She stripped off William’s clothes
, holding the t shirt to her face and breathing in his scent as she pulled it off over her head. It was enough to remind her that it hadn’t all been some kind of wonderful, crazy dream.

Kara stood naked in front of the full length mirror and parted her legs. She smiled
and her cheeks flushed when she caught sight of the ring hanging there. It made her belly churn and her sex throb. She touched it gently. It didn’t hurt at all. She loved it. She absolutely loved it and there was no way she was ever going to take it out. She was William’s, now.

Kara stepped into the hot
bath water, lay back and closed her eyes. Her fingers crept between her legs and she toyed with the ring as she daydreamed. It sent a rush of endorphins coursing through her veins and a pleasant tingle to her clitoris.

She laughed out loud.
She hadn’t just thrown caution to the wind she’d launched it all the way into next week without a single care in the world. But Kara’s brow furrowed a little when she recalled exactly what they’d done. Could it even be classed as sex, she wondered, when an ex-president of the United States didn’t think so.