Seeking Satisfaction

"And...?" the man prompted.

"Three hours?" Jenny queried.

"I would like you to quote for the night."

Jenny gulped. "All night?"

"That's the idea. I want time to really appreciate you."

Another gulp. "Eight hundred pounds," she said weakly.

"Done. My room's just along here."

It was at this point that Jenny's legs began to give way. She doubted whether they would actually carry her any further. She collapsed onto the seat.

"Are you all right?"

Her client....client? Why not call a spade a spade? Her john looked concerned.

"Yes...yes, fine. Just need to adjust my shoe."

She fiddled with the strap while trying to pull herself together. She couldn't believe she was really going to go through with this. It wasn't too late to back out. On the other hand, he looked very fuckable and that was the reason she was here; to get fucked.

She stood up and smiled. "All sorted."

Jenny slotted her arm through his in a gesture of familiarity and they walked along the corridor to the door of his room. He took the electronic key from his pocket and grinned at her.

"I hope this works."

So did Jenny. It would be too embarrassing to wait around while he went back down to the reception desk. There was a little green glow as he swiped the card. She breathed a sigh of relief.

The room was almost identical to the one further along where she had left Mark. How shocked he would be if he knew what she was about to do. She was quite shocked herself. This was absolutely not in character.

"Make yourself at home."

Jenny was unsure what he meant by that. Did he intend her to get undressed straight away? She supposed so. After all, it was business and no time was to be wasted on preliminaries. She removed her jacket, dropping it onto a chair and then reached behind for the zip of her dress.

"Sit down and make yourself comfortable." He waved his hand in the direction of an armchair. "No need to rush at things. The whole night is before us. Something to drink?"

"Erm..no. Thanks." She sank into the chair.

"Quite right. The price of the drinks in a hotel mini-bar is exorbitant. Perhaps you'd prefer it if I paid you before we go any further."

"Well...I..."

"Of course you would." He crossed over to a cupboard which contained a small safe and punched in a code. "I could pay by Visa, but prefer not to have a transaction such as this on record. Anyway, I doubt whether you're equipped to take Visa."

Jenny shook her head. A knot of nervousness clutched at her stomach. This was idiotic. What did she imagine she was doing here? Paying Mark back in some way? But how? After all, he didn't know what she was proposing to do. Oh, God! This was stupid. There was still time for her to leave.

"I thought not," her client continued, completely unaware of the maelstrom of conflicting thoughts whirling around inside Jenny's head. "I could also write a cheque, but ditto the written evidence. Also, you might not trust it not to bounce. So - cash it is."

He withdrew a wad of notes from the safe.

"Do you always go around with so much cash?" Jenny asked, open-mouthed at the large sum in his hand.

"An old-fashioned man, that's me. I don't like electronic cards; even hotel keys. Cash in hand, that's what I prefer."

"But somebody could rob you."

"From what I've read, credit cards are none too safe." He held out a bundle of notes. "Eight hundred pounds as requested."

Jenny mechanically took the money and put it into her bag.

"Better count them."

"I trust you. You have an honest face."

"The mark of a successful con man."

He sat on the bed and patted it to indicate she should join him. She dutifully moved across and took her place beside him.

"It's a familiar face."

"Ah. You've found me out."

He planted butterfly kisses on her cheek, above her eyes and on her nose.

"But I can't quite place you."

He sighed. "My perennial trouble. Always the bridesmaid, never the bride." He kissed her lips. "Always the solid supporting actor, never the star."

He slowly pulled down the zip of her dress.

"Of course. You're in films."

"Sometimes. And TV and the theatre. A good all-rounder, that's me."

He pulled the dress down to her waist and set about unfastening her bra. It was obviously a practised art and presented no difficulty. Before she had time to even think about it her breasts were fully revealed. He looked appreciatively for a moment then dipped his head and gently took her nipple between his lips. She gave a ghost of a moan.

"I've seen you several times," Jenny murmured.

"Good." He shifted his attention from one breast to the other.

"But it's irritating. I can't remember your name."

"My usual fate."

"Sorry."

"Don't be. I make a pretty good living at being unknown." He pushed her down until she was lying flat on the bed. "One user comment on the Internet Movie Data Base was that if there was any justice I would be a star."

He pulled the dress further down and she raised her hips up to allow him to remove it altogether. He then removed her panties. It struck Jenny that he had stripped her naked and she had hardly been aware of it.

"That's an encouraging thing to say," she volunteered, somewhat breathlessly as his butterfly kisses now fluttered around her mons.

"Um." Kiss, kiss, kiss. "I..." Kiss, kiss. "Thought so."

"Oooh!" sighed Jenny.

Her body shuddered as his tongue slowly licked along her labia and back again, probing its folds. At the same time his hand caressed her breast, teasing the nipple. She lay back, her eyes closed, as she savoured the sensations created by his tongue and hand. A warm glow suffused her body and she could already feel a dampness between her legs. In three years of love-making with Mark she had never felt this way.

"'Love must kiss that mortal's eyes,'" murmured her lover. "'Who hopes to see fair Arcady.'" A finger probed Jenny's vagina. "'No gold can buy you entrance there; but beggared Love may go all bare.' To quote that immortal American poet, Henry Cuyler Bunner. Not quite true in this case, of course. The money in your purse proves the point."

Jenny felt herself blushing with embarrassment. It was true she was bought and paid for, but financial gain was not her motivation, though he wasn't to know that.

"Why are you paying for sex?" she asked. "I should imagine you could have your fill of very willing women."

"Yes, indeed. In fact, if I may boast a little, I'm forever tripping over willing women. It can be embarrassing - and tricky at times. A hazard of my profession and the kind of roles I'm mainly given to play. Intelligent, charming and honourable. Not for me the character who lets down his lady-love and leaves her despondent. No matter what, I always come through in the end."

Jenny suddenly sat up. "Timothy Hart!" she exclaimed.

"Ah. You've finally remembered."

"Stupid of me to forget."

"Not at all. I'm merely a strolling player; at least, the equivalent. But Tim will do."

"You didn't answer my question."

"Why pay you for sex?"

Jenny nodded. "Um."

"It was spur of the moment. I saw you, I fancied fucking you and you were available for a sum of money. A simple business transaction. No complications."

"I've just realised something."

"What?"

"I'm naked, but you're still fully dressed."

"An unsatisfactory situation that I shall remedy immediately."

He was as good as his word. Jenny was slightly disappointed to see that her nakedness and response to his caresses had not hardened him. On the contrary, his penis was completed deflated and lifeless. He noticed her crestfallen reaction as she gazed at his nether regions.

"Um. Sorry. I've always found an attractive naked woman very pleasing to the eye, but for some reason that pleasure is not transmitted to my prick. However, it is not averse to a little gentle stroking, hardens even more when kissed and sucked, and truly blossoms when inside the warmth of a vagina. Yours appears to be particularly welcoming."

Jenny reached for the sorry specimen in front of her and lightly ran her fingers around it; it was soft and squidgy. Gradually it began to show some sign of life.

"My turn to ask." Tim looked down at the young woman working on his cock.

"Ask what?"

"Why you're here with a complete stranger selling your sexual favours. The second time tonight." He corrected himself. "At least the second time. I saw you coming from one room, but I don't know if you'd been anywhere else before."

"No." Jenny coughed a little to cover her embarrassment.

"Why do it?"

"Erm...economics. London's an expensive place to live these days."

Tim nodded. "The cost of housing. I know. Going out of the roof, isn't it? Frankly, I can't afford to live here. I've a flat in the north. Not always convenient, but it certainly makes more financial sense."

He was hardening. Jenny put her hands round his penis and rolled it between her palms.

"Umm." Tim sighed with pleasure. "That's good."

He leaned forward and sucked on her breasts. Jenny had a sudden image of the baby Hart taking milk from his mother's teat. She stifled a giggle. She also shuddered a little at the touch of his lips and tongue on her nipples. She was wet. Her juices were freely flowing and she hated to think what reaction the room-maid would have in the morning when she saw the state of the covers at the foot of the bed.

Tim stood upright. "You're doing a grand job down there."

"Thank you."

"A really professional touch."

Jenny blushed. If her job came to a sudden end it looked as if she was equipped to take up a new profession. She enclosed his cock with her lips and wondered if she could possibly enjoy doing this sort of thing on a regular basis. She was certainly enjoying it now, but this hardly counted.

The penis in her mouth had grown erect and firm. She reckoned it was ready for business and she knew she was ready to take it.

Jenny looked up. "I want you to fuck me. Now."

He smiled; the same smile that beamed down from a cinema screen and made female hearts beat faster. How many of them would envy her this moment?

"No condom?" he asked.

"No. It's all right. I'm on the pill."

"Bareback. Better and better."

She sank back on the bed and spread her legs, at the same time fingering her clit. She moaned softly as his cock nudged against her labia which opened to welcome it.

He slid in smoothly with a slight squishing sound as his cock pushed through her juices. Although not over large his instrument of pleasure fulfilled its function and Jenny felt little throbbing waves of excitement washing through her body. He gently worked his cock around, pulling away, pushing in, taking his time and slowly guiding her to a climax.

"Oh, oh, oh!" she gasped.

His rhythm was changing from slow waltz to quick fox-trot. Both of them were breathing faster. She clasped her legs together across his back and he sank a little deeper into her the soft wetness of her pussy.

"Oh, oh, oh!"

"I'm not going to hold it much longer," Tim gasped.

"Fill me!" Jenny urged.

He did. She felt his semen flooding into her and hitting the lining of her vagina. After a few moments of bucking and clutching each other, it was over. He laughed.

"What's so funny? Jenny demanded.

"Nothing. I'm laughing with the sheer joy of humping you. God, that was good. The best fuck I've had for quite a while."

"Me, too."

Jenny thought of Mark - with more than a little guilt, she had to admit - and how poorly he had performed. If only he had played the game tonight it could be him feeling so ecstatic after fucking her. But he wouldn't. He was nothing but an old stick-in-the-mud who was more than a little prudish. And yet, he still meant a great deal to her and she hated quarrelling with him.

After their hot session Jenny and Tim both relaxed. He lounged back in a chair whilst she put a cushion on the floor and leaned against the foot of the bed. Only temporarily sated they chatted about this and that while they waited to commence the next round. They were both naked, but completely at ease.

Tim told her about his latest film and reminisced about the past. She came to realise that films and theatre were his entire life. Would any woman be able to share him with his passion for creating characters other than himself?

He chuckled. "I remember when I got my first big break. I was only twenty and fresh from drama school. There was a new play being mounted in the West End and I was sent to audition. A casting agent had seen me in an end-of-term production and thought I'd be right for a major part in this play."

"And you got it?"

"Yes. It was damned good role. Not the lead, but a key character with a lot of emotional acting required. On the first night I was as nervous as hell, but I managed to bring everything together. Got a good reception and felt really chuffed. The next day the reviews were great, especially mine. I felt ten feet tall. That night I went to the theatre expecting to see a little crowd of people in the alley by the stage door waiting for my autograph."

"Was there?"

He shook his head. "Not a soul."

Jenny laughed. "Ego deflation time."

"There was worse to come. I went in and asked if there was any mail for me. The Stage Door keeper didn't know who I was. He asked me for my name."

"Oh, no!"

"And you see, it still happens. I was vaguely familiar to you, but you couldn't think of my name."

"I did eventually."

"True."

"And you're very familiar to me now."

She crawled over to him and began work on his manhood. The second time they copulated was on the floor; the third was doggy style and the fourth....yes, dear reader, they managed it four times....was in the comfort of the bed. Tim was exhausted and Jenny was completely satisfied. Playing prostitute had definitely been worth it.

She left early in the morning when her lover....correction - client... was stretched out on the bed in a deep sleep. She had taken the eight hundred pounds out of her bag and left it on the bedside table. She had no wish to take Tim's money; the rules of the game forbade it.

Quietly closing the door she padded down the corridor, feeling more than a little conspicuous in her prostitute outfit. In her enthusiasm she had somehow forgotten about going home with the workers in the morning. Oh well, play the game. It was all fun, after all and she wasn't so indecent she risked getting arrested.

As she reached the door of the room booked by John Hancock it opened and he stepped out. He stopped dead and looked in amazement at the vision before him.

"My God! Jenny!" he exclaimed.

"Pardon me, monsieur." In her best French accent. "My name is Dominique."

"You've been...." he spluttered. "You've been...." He was still unable to complete the sentence.

"Doing the business, monsieur."

"All night?"

"Oui. The client paid well and was most....how do I put it?"

"I can't imagine."

"Fucking good. My leetle pussy is still full of his seed. You see what you miss, monsieur. You let someone else get it all."

With that Dominique/Jenny swayed off towards the lift leaving Mark open-mouthed. He couldn't believe it. She had actually turned herself into a prostitute. How could she? Jenny Cook was a perfectly respectable employee of a serious Sunday paper. Why would she take money for sex? It was incomprehensible.

Mark slowly went back into his room, dropped his bag and sank into a chair. He should have left straight away last night. He wouldn't have been here to see her departure from her night of debauchery; PAID debauchery, dammit! She said it was a game; a game for him.

Only him.

But he refused to play.

She looked absurd in that outfit. It was so revealing, so obviously....obviously.... sexy. She had dressed like that for a turn-on. But she didn't need to do that. She was desirable enough as Jenny; as this ridiculous creature, Dominique, she was....she was...

Dammit! She was making him hard!

Mark put his head in his hands.

"Oh, God!" he groaned.

*****

The ringing phone was quickly answered.

"Hello."

"Dominique?"

A pause.

"Oui, monsieur."

"I...I would like to buy your services tonight."

"Thees is Monsieur Hancock?"

"Er...yes."

"Tonight I am available. The price is eight hundred pounds."

Mark gulped. "Eight hundred....is that what you got from...from last night's client?"

"Oui, monsieur."

"Oh. Very well."

"He was most satisfied. I give value for money."

"I know you do."

"You know? But, monsieur, you and I have never fucked. Last night was - how you say - a washover"

"Washout," Mark automatically corrected. "I meant to say, I'm sure you do give value for money."

"The same hotel and time?"

"Yes."

"I look forward to it, monsieur."

"So do I, Dominique...so do I."

"Au revoir."

"Yes....goodbye."

Mark slowly put the phone back in his pocket. There was the beginning a of a grin, widening into a smile.

Dammit, yes!

He was looking forward to tonight, as well. With Dominique. In fact, he was looking forward to a lot more nights with the tantalising prostitute.

But he would have to negotiate a better price!