Bess Ch. 04byjerseyblue©
"Fantastic pictures, Bess," Bonnie said flipping through the album. "You look unbelievable hot. I think a man may have a problem choosing which one is best. I like the cover, 'Black Leather'. It will go well together with mine. "
"Thanks," Bess replied, "but I owe it all to Tom. He made it so much easier than I thought it would be."
"Yes, he is good. Did he use the story about finding a man in the forest and you having your way with him?"
"No. The story was the other way around. A man found me," Bess said.
"Good choice," Bonnie said, "Did he help you with picking out the costumes?"
"Yes. I liked all his choices but the head teacher one. It didn't seem like me. One question. How did he know I would want the dungeon pictures?"
"Tom and I talked about you before the shot. I told him how you reacted when I showed you that room. I also remembered your reaction when I talked about a certain 'friend' and that room." Bonnie had turned to that picture. Bess was tied to the bench, wet and open for the taking. Oh yes, thought Bonnie, this will do very well.
"One more question," Bess asked, "It seemed that Tom was unaffected by me. I have never felt more aroused in my life yet he did nothing. Why?"
"I'll let you in on a little secret," Bonnie began, "Tom and I have an arrangement. Remember the naughty little boy suit?"
"Yes," Bess nodded.
Bonnie continued, "Tom likes to be dominated. That's why he suggested the teacher outfit. I told him that he could look but not touch you and I would know if he did. He came over here that night to collect his reward for being 'a good boy'. He told me he dearly wanted to but didn't."
"Wow," was all Bess could say.
"I punished him a little for his impure thoughts though," Bonnie laughed.
The girls sipped their wine and then Bonnie got right to the point.
"Most of the men are looking for a creative evening. Something they can't get at home," Bonnie explained.
"How do I broach the subject then?"
"It is different each time," Bonnie answered. "Some men just want straight fucking and you don't have to use the album at all. Most men who call me and who'll be calling you have been referred by someone else. Let's face it. I'm expensive and you will be too. Someone who just wants a good lay can get that for a lot less money. Our kinds of 'friends' want something out of the ordinary. I guess creative is as good as any term."
Bess leaned forward. "But how, exactly, should I begin things? I just can't say 'Want to act out a story?' can I?"
"You probably won't have to. Most of the time they will know about your album from whoever recommended them. They may already know what they want. Some may have never thought about role playing and those are the most fun. Once you get past a man's initial shyness, play-acting can be the greatest turn-on there is. Gets them outside themselves. They can do anything, be anyone, and no one's judging them."
Bess lowered her head, afraid to look Bonnie in the eyes. "What if I'm not good enough?" she said softly. "What if he doesn't get his money's worth?"
Bonnie lifted Bess' chin. "Baby, from the looks of these pictures, it won't be a problem. Now let's get your feet wet."
Bess introduced herself to the maitre'd and he guided her to quiet section off to one side of the busy restaurant. As she slalomed between tables she had a moment to look over Mr. Martin, who was hesitantly sipping a glass of red wine.
Tony Martin was about 45, Bess guessed, with a receding hairline and wire-rimmed glasses. To his credit, his dark hair wasn't combed over the top to disguise his balding pate, but was neatly trimmed and styled.
As Tony looked up and saw her moving towards him, Bess smiled and nodded. He looked straight at her and she was struck by his eyes – so bright blue that if not for his glasses she would have thought he was wearing colored lenses. Both his smile and eyes made his face surprisingly appealing.
As he watched the beautiful, young woman making her way to his table, he thought, she doesn't look like a call girl. If she was as good in bed as she looked, she was going to make him regret that he only got to Minnesota once or twice a year.
"You're Bess," he said standing up.
"Tony," Bess said extending her free hand, "I'm so glad to meet you." The maitre'd pulled out her chair and she settled in. She set her package she was carrying down next to her.
"Wine?" he asked. When she nodded, he asked, "red or white?"
"I looked at the wine list and they have a fine Burgundy, if that's okay?"
"That will be fine," Bess said. She had barely gotten comfortable when the waiter brought the wine. When Tony nodded, the waiter opened the bottle and neatly filled her long-stemmed glass. "To an eventful evening," Bess said lifting her glass towards Tony.
"Eventful," Tony said as his glass touched hers. "A superb way of thinking about things." He sipped. "You're lovely."
Bess smiled. She had selected a soft chiffon scoop-necked dress in a shade best described as cantaloupe and wore it with a triple-strand pearl necklace and pearl drop earrings. A matching triple-strand bracelet and a gold watch showed off her long, slender fingers. On a whim she had her nails done that afternoon in a frosted shade the exact hue of her dress.
"Thank you," she said softly. Tony's dark suit was carefully tailored to hide the slight paunch she had noticed as he stood up and he wore a monogrammed white on white shirt with a conservative paisley tie. Everything about him bespoke pride in his appearance and money enough to indulge it. "You're not bad yourself."
Over dinner, they talked about his business, family, and ordinary things. By dessert they were able to discuss politics. They agreed more than either had expected.
Tony finally brought up the reason for their meeting. "We have a mutual friend," he said, suddenly hesitant. "Bonnie Roberts."
"I know," Bess said, "She gave you my phone number."
When the silence became awkward, Bess asked, "Do you want my company for the rest of the evening?"
"I enjoyed our dinner. You're a highly intelligent and knowledgeable woman, for a ..." He stumbled over the end of the sentence and swallowed hard.
"For a hooker," Bess laughed. "Don't be embarrassed. I'm not. I love fulfilling men's fantasies, which, I gather, you want."
"I want something unusual."
"Do you have a fantasy in mind that you want to act out?"
"Not really. Bonnie said you might have some suggestions."
"I have something here that may help you decide." She picked up the package she had carried into the restaurant and placed it on the table. From a large black-satin drawstring bag, she withdrew her album with a black leather cover and placed it in front of Tony.
She placed her hand on the closed book. "In here are fantasies, scenes that we can play together. Look through the book and I'll describe each fantasy." She handed Tony a black leather envelope about 4 inches square, with a black tassel tied to one corner. "When you find something you like, put my fee in the envelope and use this bookmark to hold the page. Then we'll go back to my house and play."
Hands trembling with expectations, Tony took the envelope and opened the album.
For picture after picture, Bess explained the fantasies to Tony. The last dozen photos were explicit pictures of Bess, guaranteed to ignite the most selective viewer. Bess stood as Tony turned back to the beginning to review the photographs. "I have to use the ladies' room. I'll be a few minutes so look through the book and select. Of course, you could make up your own fantasy."
"Not on your life!"
Bess stood looking at herself in the mirror. The first part of the evening had gone better than she thought. She was actually enjoying talking with Tony but now was the big step. Could she do it? Would she be good enough?
When Bess returned from the ladies' room, Tony had her coat over his arm. He helped her into it, then handed her the book. She opened to the page he selected and removed the envelope. "Natasha will please you in every way," she whispered as she slipped the 5 hundred-dollar bills into her purse.
The ten-minute cab ride was the longest Tony could remember. Bess's stocking-covered legs were just inches from his and he longed to run his fingers up the inside of her sweet thighs. He held himself back. This night was going to be something extraordinary. He was going to let Bess dictate the speed. And he would savor every minute.
The cab let them out in front of the condo and they quickly made their way inside, then upstairs to the bedroom. "There's a bottle of champagne in the fridge," she said, pointing to a small wet bar in the corner of the room, 'and glasses above. Pour some for each of us and make yourself comfortable. I'll just be a moment." She took a hangar from the closet and disappeared into the bathroom.
Five minutes later Bess emerged from the bathroom.
"Sire," she said softly, "I am Natasha. The sultan has told me of your bravery and I am honored you picked me for your evening."
Tony just stared. Her halter top was made of light-blue gauze so sheer that it allowed glimpses of her nipples. A veil of the same material covered the lower part of her face. Matching harem pants rode low on her hips, flared at the legs and gathered tightly at the ankles. Through the sheer fabric Tony saw the dark triangle of hair at the junction of her thighs.
Natasha's feet were bare, and she wore long earrings and bracelets on her wrists and ankles, all with tiny bells that tinkled as she moved. Her head was bowed and her blonde hair was covered with a soft blue, gauzy veil. A golden chain hung around her bare midriff. Covering her navel was a dark blue jewel.
"I hope I please you," she said softly. "You have only to indicate how I may serve you and your wish will be my command." She stood in front of him and slid her hands up his shirt, sliding his jacket off.
"Will you dance for me?" he asked.
Bess put a tape in the player and the room filled with rhythmic, exotic music. Sinuously, Natasha undulated around the room, turning down lamps and lighting candles and sticks of incense. As she twirled, she removed the veil covering her hair and slid its soft folds across Tony's face. At one point, she stood in front of him, placed the veil over his head and kissed his lips through the sheer fabric, the bells continually tinkling.
When he reached for her, she danced away, trailing the veil over his skin. She held the transparent fabric under her breasts and lifted so the unrestrained two mounds stood out from her chest and jiggled as she moved, covered only by thin layers of gauze. She thrust her chest into his face but when he went to kiss one of her nipples, she danced away.
Near then far, close, yet not close enough. The fragrance of her eastern perfume filled Tony's head and he longed to taste her mouth. When next Natasha danced close, he grabbed the scarf that covered her face and wrapped it around her body, trapping her swaying bottom.
Natasha leaned over and licked Tony's upper lip with the tip of her tongue. Back and forth, her tongue danced over his mouth as her bottom swayed against the imprisoning scarf. Each time he would have pressed his lips tightly against hers, she moved slightly away, allowing only the slightest touches of mouth against mouth.
"More," he growled, "Kiss me, woman!"
Natasha's mouth was so close to Tony's that her breath cooled his wet lips. "Your wish is my command," she breathed. She pressed her mouth against his and her tongue requested entry. Greedily, he opened his mouth and swirled his tongue against hers.
While they kissed, Natasha opened the buttons of Tony's shirt and tugged it from his body. She removed her mouth only long enough to pull his undershirt over his head and finally she ran her hands across his chest so the hair slid between her fingers. She scraped one nail down his skin.
He was on fire, yearning to devour this woman who was his for the evening. When he let go of one end of the scarf she slipped away, teasingly moving around the room. She turned her back, and then took off her top. Naked to the waist, Natasha held up a scarf and twirled. Tony got quick glimpses of her full breasts, their large darkened nipples standing out from the soft white skin.
Without taking his eyes from her, Tony stood, removed the rest of his clothes, and tossed them aside.
"Your staff is fully ready, my lord," Natasha said, staring at his erect cock. "Shall I take it in my mouth and show you how much pleasure I can give you?"
He dropped into the chair. "Oh yes, Natasha, but just a little. I will have better uses for my staff."
She knelt on the floor at his feet and brushed her hair across his lions, combing her hair with his cock. The sensation was so exquisite that he was afraid he would come without her ever touching him. When she finally placed a light kiss against the tip of his erection, it took all his concentration not to climax right then.
Natasha flicked her tongue over the end of Tony's cock, licking the sticky pre-cum fluid. Then she pursed her lips and sucked his purple cock head into her mouth. She took it deeply as she could, and then pulled back, her head bobbing up and down in his lap.
"No, not yet," he growled. He stood, put on a condom, grabbed her around the waist, and pulled her harem pants down. He turned her so she was facing away from him, bent her at the waist and plunged his cock into her wet pussy from behind. Over and over he drove into her until he moaned with his release.
"Oh God, it feels so good. Yes!"
Bess hadn't actually climaxed, but she was strangely satisfied, knowing she was sharing Tony's pleasure. She reached between her thighs and cupped his balls, squeezing and milking all his thick cum. His body bucked as the last of his orgasm flowed into her.
When Tony collapsed, Bess got a warm wet face cloth from the bathroom and leisurely washed his penis and testicles. She squeezed his cock and satisfied herself that there was, at least for the moment, no arousal left in him. She decided never to leave anyone unsatisfied.
He stood up, stretched, and looked at the clock beside the bed. "That was simply fantastic, but I'm afraid I have to go now," he said.
"You have my number and card," Bess said, "and there are many other photos in my album."
"I don't get out this way very often," Tony said sadly as he buttoned his shirt. "But when I do, I will remember to call you."