Escort Services (complete)

Elizabeth turned out to be married, had been for many years to a successful businessman who took little interest in her affairs. Elizabeth was what is popularly known as a "trophy wife", someone to show off to his rivals and colleagues alike. In her late twenties, she was stunningly beautiful, an ex model, well educated and articulate. Her dress sense unerringly flattered and highlighted her attributes. Robert felt a small flutter when they met to discuss terms.

She was to travel to Paris to take in a fashion show, a social event on her calendar. Although she wasn't in the industry any more, she liked to keep abreast of the trends and had many friends who still peddled their ankles on the catwalk.

He was to meet her at Saint Pancras Station, bring enough clothes for an extended weekend and make sure he had something presentable to wear. Elizabeth was quite precise about the arrangements and demonstrated an orderly mind that paid attention to detail. His ticket for the Euro-Star Train would arrive in the post the day before. If it did indeed arrive, it was his signal that the date was on, if it didn't, she would advance him something on account as a retainer in case his services were needed at some future date.

The rest of the week passed quite slowly, Robert's anticipation grew exponentially as the days ticked off until Saturday. Then, at last, the day arrived and found Robert waiting at the top of the stairs that led down to the Euro-Star platforms. The board showed destinations to Brussels, Lille and Paris. He had his ticket, standard class return to Paris tucked into the inside pocket of his blazer. He had chosen slacks, a linen shirt and the tan coloured jacket with deck shoes.

He saw her emerging from the tube station staircase. She was head and shoulders above most of her fellow travellers, her height turning several heads and then her looks causing a second glance of appreciation. She wore a simple 'A' line, light blue dress that came to just above her knee. She wore very little jewellery, apart from a gold pendant at her throat and short drop earrings that sparkled as they caught the light.

Elizabeth smiled briefly, almost efficiently, like recognition of his presence, but without wishing anyone else to know that she had detected him. Her hand shot out and met his in a perfunctory hand shake, all business like and impersonal, as much as skin contract can be.

Robert felt a small tremor of thrill and opened his mouth to say hello, but she beat him to the drop.

"Hello Robert, we will dispense with the pseudonym, you look like a Robert, nothing like a Michael." She looked at him steadily and then said. "We had better get going. That is, if you are still on for the weekend." Her smile was automatic, sliding across her mouth, but not reaching her eyes.

"Yes of course..." Elizabeth had already begun to move towards the step down to the reception and checking in desk. She was travelling first class. Separate carriages then. Robert wasn't quite sure how he felt about that, but had the distinct feeling that he was no more than the hired help. He had time to think about it on the two and a half hours it took to get to Gard Du Nord station in France. He was the hired help, little more than the status of a pet, he should have expected that, but wasn't used to slipping into a subservient role.

They shared a taxi silently until the cab stopped outside Hotel De Ville in Avenue Victoria, alongside the Seine. Robert was in awe of the hotel, but even in more of her buying power. This was several hundred Euros a night for the basic room, not that the prices were advertised at all, if you needed to ask, you couldn't afford it.

His room, even though it wasn't premier level, still had an opulence that Robert had never experienced before. He could only guess at what Elizabeth had taken, but if the way the busboys and concierge had fussed around her, she was probably in the presidential suite and well known as a patron.

By the time he had freshened up from the trip and explored the plush room he found himself in, Elizabeth had called his bedside telephone and asked him to meet her in the lounge in ten minutes.

Gilt covered frescoes and relief panels lined the walls and ceiling of the lounge. A hovering waiter had taken his order of a club tonic with a twist. She arrived a few minutes later, asking for an Evian as she steered her way to his table.

"Robert, I will be going out for the remainder of the day and will be back at eight o'clock. We will have dinner in my suite at nine, please make sure you are there, but, why not sightsee while I'm away?"

Their drinks arrived, delivered by the waiter on silent soles. She took a sip and then left him alone.

The afternoon was spent visiting the Eiffel Tower and walking around the Latin Quarter, window shopping at the works of art and lunching at a bistro while he observed the people of the city as they hurried around on their business.

Dinner that night with Elizabeth was almost formal. The courses kept warm on a hostess trolley and served by their own personal waiter. Robert could not have put a name to the dishes he ate or the wine that accompanied the courses. He related the events of his walk about. Elizabeth glossed over the fashion show premier. Her private showing had left her somewhat less than inspired.

And then, it was time to go to bed. As simple as that, no preamble or awkwardness, just a simple turn of events, as if it had no more meaning than the business proposition it truly was. She stood, unzipped her dress and stepped out of the fabric. She wore no underwear, only a string of pearls and matching earrings.

"The master bedroom is through there." She indicated with a nod of her head.

Robert was transfixed. He knew she was beautiful and had crafted an image in his mind. The actuality surpassed that by some margin.

Her breasts were in proportion with her size, possibly a C cup and slightly upturned. Absolutely no sag to them, just gentle swells that culminated in perfectly aligned nipples with darker aureoles. Her stomach could not have been flatter, not even a slight bulge to pronounce her pubic vee. Her hair was neatly trimmed to a vertical line, there was no evidence of shaving. It was entirely possible she had had the hair follicles removed by some kind of procedure.

She turned, showing a perfect ass, neither too large nor too narrow, well defined maximus gluteus muscles with flawless skin as a cover. As she stepped away from him towards the bedroom, he marvelled at her musculature that rippled smoothly under her tight skin. He followed, like an obedient puppy, undoing his shirt buttons as he walked.

He placed a pack of condoms on the bedside cabinet and, for the first time, held her without the barrier of clothing between them. The silk sheets had been kicked off into a crumpled heap at the end of the huge bed.

His holding her was like an awakening of his senses. Her smell intrigued him, a subtle blend of natural and concocted essences. Her hair, shortish, lay in perfectly arranged rivulets either side of her head. Her eyes, suddenly so blue and so close, stared up at him as he crooked her head in his elbow that supported his weight. She lay on her back, studying his face silently, guilessly and with an innocence that he had not expected. Suddenly, it was as if the business arrangement had changed, so that he was the major partner.

Intuitively, he knew that he should take the lead in this phase of their liaison. He cupped her left breast, rubbing the pad of his thumb over her nipple, watching as it hardened at his touch.

"God Elizabeth, you are beautiful." He couldn't help the words escaping his lips, his mouth forming the words a millisecond after he thought them.

She smiled coquettishly, threw her arm around his neck and drew his lips to hers.

The kiss tasted of the food they had shared, but more, subtle hints of something like honey and sweetness lingered on her lips and breath. Robert became acutely aware that he had fallen for this woman and equally aware, that was a breach of his contract with her. Somehow, he put it to the back of his mind and bent to the task.

Her tongue found his as it passed between his teeth, and then she accepted his in return. His hand continued to manipulate her breast until he slid it behind her shoulder to roll her toward him so that they lay stomach to stomach. Gently, with just finger tips, he brushed her back, enjoying the shivering sensations they produced, small in takes of breath as her nerve endings enjoyed his touch.

Their temperatures and heartbeat had risen, breathing became synchronised as tongues roamed and explored each others mouths. Robert lightly passed his fingertips over her waist, a ticklish spot under normal conditions, but an erogenous zone when in a sexual encounter. She shivered against him and moaned softly as he travelled onto her lower abdomen, tracing her vee towards her sex.

He bent his head, pulling out his arm from under her head, and kissed her very aroused nipple. He sucked her hardness into his mouth and nibbled gently, relishing her immediate reaction of arched back. With consummate slowness, he slid his lips and tongue between her breasts, tracing the bone structure, then, continued downward, passing the bottom of her ribcage, over her belly button and on towards her sex, interspersing his licks with little kisses, savouring her taste.

Elizabeth held the back of his head, her fingers entwined with his hair, neither pulling nor pushing him, just maintaining a contact with him. Her back arched and relaxed only to arch again as her nerve endings registered his kisses and the anticipation of his tongue on her sex, built deliciously.

Her anticipation was at last rewarded. Robert gently pried her legs apart so that he could taste her feminine essence. Tentatively, his tongue tip flicked over her nub, a light touch over her clit, which may as well have been from a live wire by the result it produced. The reaction was instantaneous and profound to her senses. She came there and then. With no more than just the build up of sexual tension, promise and the expert touch of Robert's tongue and fingertips.

She would have tried for a reprise then, but Robert had other ideas as the pressure from his tongue increased and travelled all the way to her sex. She submitted to his actions, revelling in his mastery of her body.

He adjusted his position, lifting a knee over her leg and then the other, so that he could have free access to her while she lay on her back. He sucked her hardening clit into his mouth while his fingers found her nipples to tease and tweak them. Elizabeth came again in a shuddering climax that she stifled with the back of her hand between her teeth.

Satisfied that she was ready, Robert slid over her body, supporting his weight on his forearms placed either side of her torso. Slowly, but purposely, his hard cock zoned in on her waiting depths, unerringly aligned to penetrate her in a union of mutual gratification. His head, nudged against her lips, seeking entrance and home.

His initial thrust was gentle, an exploration of her inner self, an opening of her body to his invasion. The second and subsequent thrusts were with a higher urgency and need to take her as his conquest.

Time stood unnoticed, Robert felt her inner walls grip him with her muscular, ribbed interior that massaged and coaxed his seed. Elizabeth was expert at a muscle control, surpassing anyone else he had ever encountered. Somehow, he managed to stop well before he got to the point when he would not be able to control the need to impregnate her.

He lent up and reached for the condoms, effectively raising his body over hers. Before he had a chance to grab the packet, Elizabeth's lips closed around his cock and sucked him into her hot mouth. It was his turn to groan at the pleasure he was receiving. She suckled and massaged him with her tongue, all the while, keeping him deep over her tongue.

It had to stop or he would complete right there. He rose and managed to get a rubber out of the foil pack. He was about to put it on, but her hand stopped him, covering his fingers, preventing him from the delicate operation.

"I want you deep Robert, I want your cum in my cunt." It was the first expletive he had heard from her lips, but somehow, the word was fitting in the context.

He threw the half unwrapped rubber and turned her over so that her perfect arse faced him. He eased his length into her body and began to fuck into her, starting an act that would only finish when he had finally filled her with this spend.

The pace settled into something manageable, that allowed for exploration of hands and fingers, but was insistent in the quest to complete the act. His cock buried inside her, pulsed as his climax approached, she sensed his closeness and this knowledge heightened her own needs and wants. Automatically, she tuned her orgasm to coincide with his.

That was how it crashed over them, a mutual orgasm, producing fluids from them both that mixed and coalesced in a riot of moans and stolen breathes, taken, as heart beats fibrillated at the sheer ecstasy of a perfect union.

He held her close, as mini-shocks passed over her, producing the same small tremors in him. Sated and replete, they calmed gradually. Elizabeth turned to hold him and then, suddenly, she burst into tears that soon evolved into wracking sobs and wails of utter misery.

Robert realised then, just how alone and desperate Elizabeth really was. The trappings of wealth and position, proved as nothing when faced with raw emotion that great sex and the simple union of two people can engender.

He pulled her to him and held her to his breast as she poured out her grief. Eventually, she slept. He slipped out of bed, semi-dressed and returned to his own room.

The rest of the weekend passed too quickly. Saturday night was spent in bed, locked in union that, although satisfying and much more than pleasurable, didn't quite hit the same heights of raw emotion the previous night had hit.

Their parting at Saint Pancras at the end of the weekend was almost back to a business like status, a shutter had come down over her, Elizabeth's usual persona resumed and nothing could penetrate the barriers.

"Thank you Robert, it was... wonderful." She smiled an indulgent remembrance of their first night. "But, you must forget me, forget this weekend and forgive me my moment of weakness."

"Elizabeth..." He started and paused while he sought the words. "...I will not, cannot forget Paris, or you. Nor will I forget your smell and feel, or your taste and your tears. Don't ask that of me please? I might be for hire, and therefore, little more than a contractor, but I prefer to think that we made a connection, something beyond client relationship and it is I who should thank you."

"Goodbye Robert, take care and please expect you payment in the post as promised." She turned, impersonally, effectively dismissing him, but somehow, he knew it was all a lie. He hoped he was under her skin and that she would call on his services again.

He watched her walk away to the underground, knowing that she wore nothing under the plain, 'A' line dress in light blue. Knowing how she smelled and tasted and knowing also, that she needed him desperately. He watched as heads turned appreciatively and smiled at the privilege this chosen profession had afforded him.

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Chapter 3

There was no point in pretending anymore, Robert's studies were going to hell in a hand basket. There was also, no point in pretending that he wasn't enjoying himself. But, and it was proving to be a big but, he was having doubts about the women he met through his adverts.

His initial advert in the shop window had been superseded with a flashier, more colourful card. It brought a few enquiries, but was proving to be the weaker point of sale. He had taken out a small space in the local free newspaper contact column which had started to pay off. But, the problem was, well the women who called him were not Elizabeth and definitely not in her class.

He thought long and hard about his future. It was obvious that his need for money, plus the enjoyment of his extra-curricular activities, was having a detrimental effect on studying Music. Most of the time, he was far too tired to concentrate for more than a few minutes before falling asleep. So it was perhaps, time to consider whether he wanted to continue as a student and give up the profession, or chose the latter as a career move and possibly pick up the studies later. The thing that bothered him though, was the standard of the majority of his clients and that was mostly because of his adverts and their placing he realised.

Then, while answering a call from a new client, it dawned on him that he should join an agency. Let them find the bookings, pay them a small fee and have access to a much better class of client. It wasn't that he was being snobbish, just that his libido had limits and for him to produce the goods, he had to at least like the look of the woman. Having them vetted by an agency, seemed like the way to go.

He joined 'Private Encounters', an agency that boasted a central London address and promised endless clients. His resume was accepted and a short interview in a cheap hotel off of The Edgware Road found him being punted around the contact magazines and website they had. Robert removed his own adverts and waited for the phone to ring. It didn't take long.

Amber, his contact with the agency, had booked him with a bubbly blonde called Suzanne who was looking for a date for the night to go nightclubbing. He was to meet her at her hotel at eleven that night. Was to be wearing a suit and tie and be prepared for a long evening.

Suzanne answered his knock, opening the door to her room with a smile and a welcome in.

"Just finishing up." She said over her shoulder as she headed for the bedroom. "Won't be a moment, make yourself comfortable." Her accent hinted at California.

Her perfume left a heavy trail behind her. Her dress, gauzy and multi-coloured, flowed long, to mid calf, but seemed to accentuate her figure. She was as tall as he, in her metallic grey sandals. Her hair flowed to shoulder blade length in blonde tresses of luxuriant thickness. Robert thought that she might look fantastic naked, at least from the rear view he had. She also had a perma-tan, typical of American women.

During the ride to Soho, he found out that she did in fact come from California and was over here for a month, 'doing Europe'. So far she had spent three days in Paris and two in Amsterdam. Neither had inspired her too much.

He listened as she prattled on, not really concentrating on her words, but intently on her mouth. He realised she had perfect teeth. Each was perfectly aligned, beautifully white and completely even and so obviously the product of an orthodontist. Her lips, on the full side, were quite wide, wider than the European average perhaps and very inviting. Her mouth was expressive and spoke more in the secret language of the body than her words did. Her eyes that danced, never resting in any one place for more than a split second, were grey/blue with a dark outer ring to her iris.

"Have I got herpes or something?" The stream of words had stopped for a moment, only to continue with her sudden question.

"What? Oh, I'm sorry. I was just watching your mouth. You have an incredible mouth." He felt more than a little stupid at the ineptness of his comment, but hoped it covered his switching off.

"My friends call me motor mouth, you know, revved up all the time?" He liked her accent. In fact, there wasn't much he didn't like about her. He also liked that she let him off the hook so easily.

They ate at the Trocadero and then moved onto the night clubs, staying only long enough in each, to grab a drink and then, move on to the next. Very similar to her eyes, Suzanne seemed unable to settle at all.