She Reminds Me Ch. 01

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A call girl gets hired by a famous singer for the month.
13.8k words
4.73
21.5k
13

Part 1 of the 3 part series

Updated 09/22/2022
Created 02/18/2010
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(This is my first story submitted here. Please be gentle. I started this story several years ago. I wasn't sure I was going to submit it. I want to thank TheKiss for helping me with my grammar. Any errors left behind are my own fault.)

*

The door opens letting in bright light and cheering, muffled slightly and coming from the stage. He walks into the dressing room, beads of sweat freckle his brow, and grabs a towel from a nearby rack. He's dressed in a black suit, simple and plain, with a white dress shirt unbuttoned halfway. His tie is probably in the hands of a lucky fan that fought her way to the front of the stage and caught it out in the audience.

He barely glances my way; nothing shows on his solemn face, then turns to grab a water bottle. He turns back towards me this time lingering on the exposed skin at my throat where my robe is open.

"Take it off, please." His voice is barely louder than a whisper and gravelly from singing several songs.

I untie the belt of my silk red robe and let it slide off of my skin. He watches as inches of my flesh are exposed, all his for the taking. He downs the water quickly and sets the bottle down on the bar, then walks over to stand in front of me. His cool breath ghosts over me, caressing my nipples and causing them to peak. He seems fascinated with my face; I thought he was going to touch me but he changes his mind.

"Kneel."

I get down on my knees and look up at him. I can't help the small shiver that runs down my spine as he pulls his zipper down.

He takes out his cock and wastes no time grabbing the back of my head somewhat gently and nudging the tip against my parted lips. He's clean, all of my clients are tested, but I still have a hard time swallowing a stranger's come, even after all this time. I open my mouth and look up expecting to find a smug expression on his face but his head is thrown back, eyes closed, and he's breathing deeply. I realize then that he's not like my last client, and focus on the task at hand.

His cock is long, cut and smooth. I can't quite fit all of him in, but I try to make up for it with my enthusiasm. I eagerly bob my head and moan a little, I close my eyes and imagine sucking off my first boyfriend in high school. He was about this size and I remember what he liked and how he would reward me if I got him off. I feel my mouth begin to water and a small drop of saliva escapes down the side of my mouth as his cock pulls out too far then slams back in. He begins to thrust his hips a little and I find a steady rhythm to focus on.

He comes silently, no moans, no shakes, just a few quick spurts of cum hit the back of my throat. I swallow quickly and try not to cough. He pulls out and releases his hold on the back of my head. He opens his eyes a little and looks down at me; his right hand caresses the left side of my face, lingering on the ends of my hair. There is a ghost of a smile on his lips as he puts his sated cock back into his pants and smoothes out the wrinkles before speaking, this time even softer than before.

"Get dressed and meet me outside."

Then he leaves. I begin to wonder what I have done wrong. I am hired for the month. I'm not sure what he expects of me but I don't think him leaving so quickly is a good sign. I play the event over and over in my mind but give up. Nothing is wrong I'm just being paranoid. He probably just wanted a quick release after a long show.

When Freddy told me about him I wasn't familiar with his work but I quickly discovered his popularity. Freddy said that this man didn't need to use call girls, he could usually just get whatever girl he wanted, but apparently he needed someone he could 'trust.' I almost laughed when Freddy said that; even though I was one of his most loyal girls, how could anyone trust a hooker? Maybe it wasn't the trust so much as, 'no strings attached.' Despite the fact that a doe-eyed fan would be eager to please, they usually want more than just casual fucking.

I reach for my bag and notice that there is a dress hanging on the closet door. It's my size and a light, shimmering lavender. It isn't too fancy and it suits my taste. I know it can't be a coincidence, so I slip it on, zip it in the back, opting not to wear a bra when I look at the mirror and see how low it is, the bra I have in my bag would show. I slip on my white lace French cut panties and white heels. I flip my shoulder length auburn hair forward and back in one swift motion fluffing it up a little to give it some volume. I look at myself in the mirror and think I look good. The dress fits perfectly, the hem reaches just below the knee and there is a slit running up the side three inches. My legs are tanned and shimmering from the lotion I had put on earlier. I pause and stare at the long scar on my right thigh and bite my lip remembering how I acquired it. No, I shake my head and force myself to smile. I won't think about that today. I reach for a water bottle and drink the cool liquid, blinking back a few tears.

When I open the door there is a limousine driver waiting to escort me outside. He grabs my bag and starts walking towards the back entrance. I follow, curious as to where I am being driven. When I slip inside the limo I see my client sitting across from me sipping from another water bottle, this time his shirt is buttoned up more and he smiles. He really is rather cute.

"Does the dress fit?"

I smile lazily back at him. "Yes, perfect. How did you know my size?"

"Fred told me."

"Ah, I see. Where are we going?"

He seems to become more serious and straightens up in his seat. I wonder why he's so uptight. Hopefully I will be able to fix that.

"'Opal,' a club. I want you to be there but don't act like you're with me, can you do that?"

I sigh, leaning over the space between us. He needs to loosen up, and I know how to do just that. I run my hand up his thigh. "Of course. You don't want anyone to know you're with a prostitute?"

His eyes glaze over a little more, the further my hand wanders up his thigh. He inhales sharply when I brush the back of my fingers against his sensitive cock.

He clears his throat. "Something like that."

I smile. "Don't worry. I get it." I kneel over in front of him and wrap my arms around his neck. He stiffens a little but doesn't push me away. I look into his eyes and see something. I can't quite put my finger on what it is, but he seems to be nervous when I brush my lips against his, then kiss him softly.

He lifts his hands and places them on my back, rubbing up and down slowly. I can feel his warm breath touch my cheek then he whispers in my ear, "I have some rules I want to discuss with you after this party. But, I will tell you one now. Don't touch me unless I ask you to." He grabs my waist and gently pushes me away from his chest.

I quickly get up and sit back down across from him, feeling as though I've just been slapped. He grabs his drink and downs the liquid quickly. I feel scared that Freddy has lied to me, that this man is going to be like the last, but I will go to the club and then politely leave, saying I can't go through with it. This man might even be relieved. He doesn't seem to like me that much; surely there is another girl who can satisfy him.

The car stops and the driver opens the door to let him out then closes it. He circles the bar then lets me out at a back entrance. I'm immediately let in. The club is packed with expensively dressed upper class and there are a few celebrities. I walk my way to the bar and order a vodka tonic. I slide myself onto a barstool and watch the bartender pour me a glass. I try to think about the trip I am planning to go on in the fall. Maybe I can take it early. I certainly deserve a vacation. I wouldn't have taken this new client if it weren't for Freddy's insistence that I wouldn't be hurt again, and it would be 'easy money' that I could spend on my trip. But it is too soon.

The bartender hands me my drink and smiles. "Enjoy."

I thank him and turn around on my stool. I can see the dance floor, littered with people grinding to the music. I recognize a few pros out on the floor and smile to myself. I take a small sip from my drink and feel the alcohol warming my throat. I close my eyes for a moment, listening to the music and relaxing a little, when someone places a hand on my shoulder. My eyes bolt open with shock, I'm afraid it might be him but when my eyes focus it's my good friend, a fellow pro who works on the other side. "Jack!"

"Hey, Evelyn! I'm sorry if I startled you; I saw you and had to say hi."

"No! I'm glad you did. It's been a while. Are you working?"

He laughs and sits down next to me. He's wearing a pair of stonewashed denim jeans and a tight light green tee. His dark blond hair is slightly tousled and set with a little gel. He's gorgeous and knows it. "I was going to ask you the same thing. You aren't, are you?"

I debate lying to him; I may not be working after tonight anyway. "Yes. But discreetly, if you know what I mean."

He smirks. "I see. Me too." He looks over to the dance floor either to find who I was with or his own date then he looks at me with concern. "You shouldn't be. It's too soon."

I take another sip from my drink, avoiding his gaze. There's just something about Jack's deep brown eyes that makes me want to cry on his shoulder. "I know. He hired me for the month but... I'm going to call it off after tonight. He isn't really into me anyway. I was thinking about going to New York early."

He smiles. "Good. God, I wish I could go with you but this guy is holding onto me like he can't let go."

I smile back and examine my nails. "Is he good to you?" He doesn't answer right away which makes me look up at him. He blushes a little. I can see he's growing attached to his client. Something that is frowned upon, but not out of the ordinary, except in the case of Jack. If he likes someone it's special.

"Yes, very. He's very...generous. I just wonder how long I have to stay in the shadows."

"I'm sure he will come around." I can't help feeling a little jealous. Not at being attached but having a nice, normal client for a change. I haven't had one of those in a long time. I have to ask, even knowing the answer I'd get. "Is it serious?"

He gives me a pointed look, shrugging and steals my glass, taking a sip. "Have you thought about pressing charges against...?"

He knows I don't want to talk about that and even if I did...I wave my hand at him to cut him off, then grab my drink back and take a long swallow. "No. I wouldn't stand a chance in a courtroom." We've talked about this before and I'm growing tired of the subject. "I'm doing fine; can we talk about something else?"

He never batted an eye. You can't offend Jack. "Have you slept with Mr. Uptight yet?"

I laugh, thinking he read my mind for the description. "No, not yet. Just a quick b.j. I don't think we'll go much further."

Jack raises his eyebrows and looks out on the dance floor then back to look me up and down. "Is he gay?"

I shake my head and smile. "No, just not very into me...or rather me touching him unless he asks me to."

He cocks his head and smirks. "Well, you look amazing and he's wasting his money if you can't show him your talents."

I laugh. "My talents?"

Jack purses his lips. "Don't deny it, honey. You got talent."

I shake my head and smile down at my drink. "Maybe I used to...but now I wonder if I still have it."

He places his palm against my cheek. "Trust me, you still have it." He pauses and looks into my eyes. "You deserve to be happy, Ev."

I roll my eyes and smile. "You do too, Jack."

He frowns. "I mean it. Go to New York. Enjoy it. Stay there even, if it makes you happy."

I swallow against a sudden rush of tears. My voice is thick with emotion when I say, "Thank you. I'll think about that." Then, he kisses me. It is the kind of kiss a friend gives you to console you; there is nothing sexual about it. His lips brush over mine lightly and press down just enough to let me know he's there for me. I grin when he pulls back. "God, Jack. Why do you have to be gay?"

Jack shrugs and stands to leave. "I know. All the women want me. I'd make a killing!"

I laugh as I watch him walk away feeling ten times better than when I walked into the club.

I finish my drink while watching the dance floor. I'm surprised when a few minutes later the limousine driver walks up to me, lays a few bills down for my drink and says it's time to go.

When I get inside the car I'm surprised to see Mr. Uptight sitting with his legs spread wide, head thrown back and his shirt completely open. He looks relaxed and I really see him for the first time. His hair is cut short and dark brown. He has a tiny scar on his left cheek, close to his eye. He has some stubble spread over his face. He isn't rail thin and he isn't overly muscular. I decide I'm attracted to him. I might have dated a man like him under different circumstances. But it was silly to think about that now. I wonder if I should tell him now that I'm not going to stay for the month he requested. I didn't have to decide because he opens his eyes and looks right at me. Again, I can't read a damn thing in them. He seems closed off even more than before. He cocks his head and stares at me for a long minute and then speaks.

"Who was that man you were speaking with?"

I'm surprised by the question. Apparently he was spying on me. "A friend."

He shakes his head and smirks, apparently not believing me. "I don't want to see you soliciting new clients while you are with me."

I'm angry at his assumption, but I try not to let it get to me. I smile and nod my head. "All right." I keep telling myself that this will be over soon.

He doesn't seem satisfied by my answer. "He kissed you."

I nod. "Yes, he's my friend."

His voice is a low growl. "Don't lie to me."

I breathe in deeply, trying not to react emotionally. "I'm not lying to you. He's my gay friend. A whore just like me. It was nothing."

He winces at the word, "whore," and nods slowly, straightening back up, legs crossed at the ankles. "I don't want to see you with another man while we are together. Friend or otherwise. Is that clear?"

I look out the window and bite my lip. I can't stop myself from laughing. "If you wanted a devoted girlfriend why the hell did you hire me?" I turn to look at him, his face has become pale.

Before he could reply and before I could take back my comment, the car stops and we are escorted to the Pearl hotel. It is a beautiful old one that has been recently renovated, but all I can focus on is the burgundy carpet while he leads me to a private elevator that rises to the penthouse suite. The elevator ride is a quiet one. We avoid each other's eyes. I study his reflection in the brass walls. He seems stiff, possibly angry. I'm not looking forward to the rest of the night. I pray I haven't sabotaged myself. I debate apologizing but my stubborn will reminds me that I'm not wrong.

The door slides open and he walks inside calling over his shoulder for me to sit down and make myself comfortable. I'm a little shocked but I do what he asks realizing that I'm not home free yet.

He pours himself a drink and sits down next to me on the couch I've chosen. He isn't too close but close enough for me to smell the whiskey. I turn to look at him and smile. "Aren't you going to offer me a drink?"

He swallows another sip before turning sideways towards me, lifting his leg up and folding it in to rest against my thigh. He gestures at the bar. "Help yourself."

I'm suddenly not very thirsty, he has an odd expression on his face and I'm not sure I want to turn my back to him. If he is going to hurt me I want to know ahead of time. "Thank you, maybe later."

He raises his eyebrows, nods and finishes his drink. He places the crystal glass down on the table and leans his arm across the back of the couch. He reaches for my cheek. I flinch before he can touch me. He withdraws his hand immediately and frowns.

"I'm sorry; we seem to have gotten off to a rough start, hmm?"

I breathe in deeply and exhale slowly. "I think so."

He nods and scratches his head. "It seems we both have issues with touch. I'll ask first, ok?"

I bite my lower lip and nod, afraid to speak lest my voice crack. The memories are coming back to me and I can't...

"You're very beautiful, Evelyn. I'm glad I picked you."

I swallow back my tears. "Thank you."

"You remind me of someone I used to know a long time ago. We were friends but parted ways. I always wanted to let her know how much I loved her."

I try not to panic but this is becoming a little creepy. I force a small smile. "I'm flattered."

He gives me a lopsided grin. "Maybe it's the resemblance, I expect you to act like she did. I'm not used to the...attention. Of course you are only doing your job, but I like to be the one calling the shots. That's why I hired you."

I nod. "You like to be in control." This revelation is a little unsettling but I'm familiar with it. The majority of my clients want me to be submissive.

"Sounds bad, but that's the only way to describe it."

He stands and walks towards what I assume to be the master bedroom and calls over his shoulder, "Follow me please."

I stand and follow somewhat reluctantly. I know the roll I have to play. When I get inside of the room, he turns to face me and grabs my shoulders gently. This time I don't flinch but I'm apprehensive, I can feel my heart racing.

"May I kiss you?"

I nod. He leans his face down towards my neck and breathes in deeply then starts to kiss the hollow of my throat up to my left ear. I close my eyes and will myself to relax. He reaches behind me and starts to slowly pull the zipper down. He whispers in my ear, "I didn't get a good look earlier."

I force a deep laugh from my throat. "We have all night."

"Month." He corrects me, and then kisses me tenderly; the dress slides to the floor exposing my bare breasts and lace panties. He tells me to lie down on the bed. I step out of my dress and heels and prop myself up against the pillows, ankles crossed, arms uncomfortable at my sides fingers tracing patterns in the sheets. The bed has been turned down leaving dove gray silk ones. I can't keep from touching them, feeling the cool silk against my back and legs warm up with my body heat.

He pulls a chair up to the front of the bed and straddles it. "I want you to touch yourself for me, please."

I swallow and nod; debating whether or not to take off my panties, but decide to leave them on. I push the lace crotch to one side exposing my hairless mound and place three fingers flat against it and begin to slowly rub in small circles.

At first I close my eyes and try to think about the last time I had to do this and how I got through it. I'm not an exhibitionist; believe it or not, it's hard for me to get off by myself while someone watches. Usually my clients like to use a vibrator on me, or their fingers.

"Look at me, please." His voice is so soft I barely hear him. I open my eyes and see him staring at my hand. He looks calm except for his eyes have darkened to a deep blue and the pupils are dilated.

I lick my lips and try to focus. I'm not sure I will be able to come but I will fake it if I have to. I force myself to breathe deeper and spread my thighs further apart.

I see him take off his shirt slowly, never taking his eyes off of my hand. When he looks at my face, his lips twist into a smirk. "You don't have to put on a show...just enjoy yourself."

I feel that he is belittling me and I know I can't continue. I sit up, folding my legs under myself and wrap my arms around my chest. "I'm sorry, but I can't do this."

He frowns. "Why?"

I shake my head. "I'm not comfortable pleasuring myself while someone watches me. I can't...I'm sorry."