Scheherazade Nights Ch. 03

If you want to know how it felt, that shiver was not one of fear-- it was sexual. A good looking guy had wanted me...there had been no doubt his invitation to dinner was going to be followed by one to his bed. Not only that, he thought I might be interested in the same thing, a night of no-strings sex. I was turned on by that.

I looked over at John again. He met my eyes, but made no other acknowledgement. I gave him a smile...not the smile of a wife for a husband...that smile we had when we were single for the cute guy at the end of the bar we saw checking us out, "I don't mind you looking; I might not even mind something more."

I turned back to my drink, letting myself sink into things, giving myself up to whatever was planned, confident that nothing would happen that wasn't John's intent and my fantasy.

...

When the bartender happened to catch my eye, I smiled him over. "May I have a gin and tonic this time, with lime." I had no intention of getting drunk, not even a buzz on, but I wanted just that light warmth of a drink.

He stayed after he set the drink down. "I don't think I've seen you here before," he said, polishing a couple of glasses.

"No. This is my first time here."

He continued his work for a while, then, "First time anywhere?" The question was level, no hint of anything in his voice.

I met his eyes, tacitly acknowledged his evaluation of the situation. "Yes."

He nodded, polished a bit more. "I could hear some of what you said to the guy down at the other end of the bar...you seem nice enough."

I laughed briefly, unsure of what to say.

"See that guy in the blue polo over at the table by the wall?"

I looked over. "Yes," I said.

"He's a cop. Off duty. As long as nothing gets really obvious, he's cool. If things get too over-the-top, well, there are enough things that are covered by the law that they can hassle you."

"Thank you," I said, truly grateful.

He nodded and went back to straightening things.

...

Another man sat down beside me after a while.

"Hello," he said. "Do you mind some company?"

"Not at all," I said, turning to him.

He smiled at me, looking slightly nervous: an average looking guy, a trifle overweight, an inexpensive suit--pretty much your picture of a man at a some company convention.

"Can I buy you a drink?" he asked.

I smiled at him and nodded at the full glass sitting in front of me. "I'm fine, but thank you."

"Oh," he said, "yeah."

"I'm Deborah." Looked expectant.

"Uhh...Joe. Joe Johnson." I grinned inside; well, at least he didn't say John Smith.

He sat there, stymied for a moment, until I helped him along. "Are you looking for a date, Joe?"

"Yes. I mean...well...it depends."

"On what does it depend, Joe?" I asked, smiling encouragingly.

He lowered his voice, leaned in. I leaned in, too, making sure he got a long look at the goodies. It momentarily threw him off stride, causing me to smile. He quickly looked back at my face. "On the price."

"Ah," I said, straightening back up and taking a sip of my drink. I didn't lower my voice to answer, "It's $400 an hour, Joe."

"Oh!" He glanced around, obviously worried that someone would hear. "That's more than I expected. Isn't that really high for here?"

"I don't know, Joe, but it's the number."

His voice dropped back down to a whisper, "What do I get for that?"

"Why, you get my company, Joe." I could see that answer threw him. I could see him trying to figure out what I was saying. Was I offering him anything he wanted? Was I simply saying I'd spend time with him and anything else would be additional?

I smiled at him and shook my head. "Joe, I don't really think I'm exactly what you're looking for. Thank you for the offer of a drink, but I don't think I'm looking for company after all."

He looked at me, his face showing some frustration at not handling things better but a larger amount of relief at being let off the hook. "Perhaps you're right. I'm going to head out."

"Good bye, Joe."

For most of that conversation, I had been aware of a man sitting several stools away watching us with amused eyes. He glanced after Joe's retreating back, then looked back at me, pulled out the stool next to him and tipped his head in invitation.

I considered him for a moment before gathering my drink and walking over...why I paused, I don't have the slightest idea, unless it was just that I wanted my fill of eye candy before having to talk. I'm telling you, this guy was drop dead gorgeous: Johnny Depp's brother without the mustache. Young, five years younger than I was, if I could judge. Elegant.

I slid onto the seat next to him.

"Hello," he said and...oh my God...even a faintest hint of an accent. Not that overwhelming, fake thing you hear from so many would-be Romeos, just a trace, something that said that, though he had spoken English most of his life, it wasn't his first language.

"Hello," I said.

"I believe you disconcerted our friend a few minutes ago."

I laughed, "Yes, he was a bit surprised at what I had to say."

He laughed with me. "Let me guess, sometimes one can't afford what one wants?"

I nodded my acknowledgment.

He took a long sip from the glass in front of him, looked back at me, considering. "$300?" he guessed.

"$400, actually." I was enjoying watching his face...any of you would!...and was pleased to see a hint of humor appear there.

"Hmm, indeed. I can see why our friend was startled. That is an unusual number around here." He didn't seem offended, or even uninterested, for that matter. "So...what may I call you?"

"Deborah."

"So, Deborah, what does that number include?"

I smiled, "He asked the same question."

"Ah, but I suspect he asked with the intention of bargaining you down by saying he didn't want that much. I, on the other hand, I'm making sure it is enough. What did you answer him?"

"I told him it included my company."

That startled a rich, warm laugh out of him. "A wonderful answer!" He raised his glass to me in salute. "Let me try, then, as I have some specific ideas."

"$400 an hour. Well, we might go quite late, how about we just call it $3000 for the evening, shall we? "

That was a shock! He was already agreeing to the price...the price I had thought was outrageous for this area...the price I thought was the deterrent from actual problems? Where was this going? To cover my sudden confusion, I just said, "Go on."

He inclined his head, "Yes, I will. I have some rather explicit requirements."

"I am not looking for an illusion of romance. In fact, quite the opposite: what I enjoy is the understanding on both our parts that I want your body, am willing to pay for it, and that you will do things merely because I wish for you to do them."

This was a frankness I wasn't expecting but, much as this would have left me cold in real life, at this time and this place, it was exciting to hear.

"I will treat you civilly, I am not someone whose sexual tastes run to violence, and I expect politeness from you. However, I also expect instant acquiescence, even obedience, as befits our employment relationship.

"We will go up to my room I will sit on the bed and ask you to undress completely. I do not want some long drawn-out striptease; they usually look rather silly unless the woman is a very accomplished stripper and I assure you I am already interested in what you have to offer. Yet, neither do I want you to just drop your clothes on the floor. Undress gracefully, keeping your eyes on me, accepting that I am watching you. When you are done, come over and remove all of my clothes in the same manner.

"Then use your hands and mouth to tease me to a fever pitch. I wish you to cover every square inch of my body, saving do not take my cock into your mouth for I do not want to come at this point. I am particularly sensitive on my inner thighs and greatly enjoy the sensation of a woman taking my balls into her mouth gently. I will let you when I have had enough of this simply by telling you I want to start fucking.

"At this point, please take one of the condoms you will find on the nightstand and put it on me, then straddle and ride me until I come. Please do not fake any orgasms or porn star moans...I am perfectly content if you feel sexual pleasure, but I don't require it. I believe I shall come rather quickly; when I am done, take the condom off, clean me with a warm washcloth and we shall sip our drinks together while I recover.

"Once I'm ready again, Deborah, I will ask you to place another condom on me, then kneel down on the floor, face down over the bed, with your arms spread out. For the second time, I will take you anally." He paused for a second, waiting for me to demur--I gave him no reaction, just continued to watch his face, sipping my drink. "As I said, my proclivities are not violence, and I will use plenty of lubrication, but I do enjoy enthusiastic anal sex. There are few positions I like more than reaching down, cupping a woman's breasts and drawing her up to me while she reaches over and back to wrap her hands around my neck, all the while I'm buried as far as I can inside her.

"I've reasonable stamina, and also 100mg of Viagra inside me, but perhaps I shall need a small break at this point." He laughed quietly at the little joke. "We shall order some room service to occupy us during moments when I must rest, though I shall ask you to use that beautiful mouth to hasten the process. Let me ask you now to avoid any unpleasantness later, will you do oral bareback?"

I shook my head.

"Ah, I feared you might not. A pity, but I do not fault you for it." He smiled to show that it truly wasn't an obstacle. "Never mind, it may just take a little longer each time, and I do think there will be several 'each times' as the evening continues. Sometimes I shall like them slow and sensuous, you staring into my eyes as I take you; sometimes I shall enjoy simply fucking you until I come, but there shall be several.

"I must confess, Deborah, my mind has already undressed you and the vision of you naked is quite...provoking." His eyes slid unabashedly down to caress my legs, evident in the short dress that rode up a bit as I sat on the stool, legs crossed...slid up over my hips...smiled as they reached my breasts...before finally coming back to my face.

At this point, I admit I was totally turned on. As he had started describing what he wanted, my confusion about him agreeing to my price and wonder about where this was going were being overlaid with a good old-fashioned case of lust. Here was this gorgeous man sitting here calmly telling me he wanted to take me back to his room and fuck my brains out. He may say he didn't care if I was aroused by what we did, but my mind's prediction about this imaginary scenario was that I'd be screaming in pleasure before many of those 'each times' had passed. As a fantasy, especially one where a bit of sluttiness was a good thing, this was batting 1000.

"We shall continue as we may until midnight, Deborah, then we shall start the second part of the evening."

"The second part?"

"Yes. My tastes in sex are not so limited as those of some other people. At midnight, a friend of mine with like tastes shall join us. A male friend. One act that excites me tremendously is seeing a woman I have paid for taken hard from behind by another while I hold her face in my hands, watching her.

"That excites me so much that, as the act nears its completion, I must push her head down and use her mouth." His eyes glistened as he said this. "The evening will end with the two of us enjoying your body together, all of its openings, in all the permutations there are."

My breath was becoming heavier, my mind caught up in the images, but I knew what I had to do, what the next move was. I put my hand on his wrist, stopping him. "I am very flattered by your obvious interest but," I pushed the tingling feeling in my body away, "I afraid that your desires are somewhat beyond what I am comfortable promising."

"Are you sure?" he asked.

"Yes, I'm afraid I am. I'm afraid any more than just the two of us is a bit beyond me."

He looked at me for a long moment, then inclined his head in acceptance. "It would only work if you are completely willing," he said. "My particular tastes insist upon your willing awareness that I have purchased the right to use you as I choose within the limits agreed upon."

"I'm sorry," I said.

He smiled, "I am, also, but we are what we are. Oh well, I shall look elsewhere." He tossed back the last of his drink, stood, nodded and walked out of the bar. I needed to get up myself, head to the bathroom for a quick splash of cold water. Despite my refusal, his words had worked me up--I needed my breathing to slow down, the flush to leave my cheeks, the dampness in my panties to calm down.

...

Emerging a while later, I found a man standing in the small hallway that led back to the restrooms. Just an ordinary fellow, dressed comfortably in Dockers and a polo shirt with a loose jacket over them.

"I'm Gene." As a beginning, it was rather abrupt, but I'm sure he was nervous.

"Hi, Gene. What can I do for you?"

"What do you charge?" Definitely abrupt. Should I brush him off like I did Joe? No, I think John had something else in mind with this guy.

"I charge $400, Gene. How does that sound to you?"

"It's too high. I'll pay you $50."

I started to shake my head and walk past him, but he continued, "Please, it will only take ten minutes, five maybe. You don't even need to touch me."

I was off balance now. "I'm confused here. Perhaps we're talking about two different things."

"No. No. We're not. Look...I find you beautiful. I would kill to date someone like you. But...I'm really afraid of disease. Please, don't get mad! It's nothing personal! I'm not saying anything about you. I'm just scared and even a condom doesn't make me feel comfortable. So, I'm not asking you to have sex with me."

"I'm not mad at you, Gene. It's a scary thing." I didn't know where this was going, but I was intrigued now.

"What I want is for you to let me leave, then come out in the parking lot where I'll be in my car sitting by the curb. When I roll down my window, I want you to ask me if I want a date. When I ask what I get for the date, I want you to lean on the car roof, and talk to me through the window; tell me all the things you'd do to me if we went up to the room." He stopped. I waited. He just looked at me expectantly.

"That's it?" I said, "Just tell you a story?"

"Yes," he said, "until I'm done. Then I'll drive away."

"I don't know, Gene. I think that's illegal in this state."

"I'll pay you in here; we can go out right here to the parking lot." He pointed to the side door. "We won't say anything about money; we won't touch; you won't go with me. Talk to me as if it's just a real date; I actually like that better. I've done it before here."

I cocked my head to look at him a moment, considering, having no idea where this was going. Finally, "I need to pay for my drink." I was still uncertain, temporizing.

I stepped out into the room and glanced over to the corner, John was no longer at his table. That surprised me. I looked over at the bar; he wasn't there either. The bartender was standing at the other end, looking at me. He nodded his head, very slightly. Not sure what he meant, I cocked my head in a question. His eyes flicked to the hallway and back, then he gave one of those slight shrug-and-nods that means "it's okay" or maybe "why not?"

In for a penny, in for a pound. I dropped a twenty on the counter next to my drink and walked back to Gene. "What kind of car?"

He smiled, "A blue Saab," and handed me folded bills.

I gave him five minutes and then walked out the side door, seeing a Saab by the curb over to my left, driver side door nearest the curb. I walked over slowly and the windows all slid down--I think he was reassuring me that no one else was in the car. "Hi, what's your name?" I said.

...

I started to talk to him. I was so off balance by this that my mind wasn't able to manufacture a fantasy on the spot, so I cribbed a script from the story I had heard myself just a little bit ago. I changed it as needed to make myself the aggressor, leaving out any references to breaks in the action or to condoms. I wasn't going to actually do these things, so safe sex wasn't an issue.

"Gene, I'm going to have you come up to the room I have here in the hotel. I'll want you to sit on the bed while I start to undress..."

I told him the story, talking him through undressing myself, then undressing him. I got to the point where I was starting to tease him with my mouth when my story faltered for a moment. I saw his hand go down into his lap and fumble around. Oh my God! Was he actually masturbating in front of me? I couldn't be certain; it sure looked like it. The cold water that had hit my face a few minutes ago was completely forgotten as I absorbed the fact that this fantasy was being taken to a whole new level for me.

"Is that all we're going to do?" Gene asked.

I let myself fall back into the mood, "Oh no, Gene, we're certainly not done. At this point, I think maybe I've spent enough time getting you worked up. It's time to fuck." I could see the word pleased him.

"I think I'd like to be on top. I'm going to push you down and ride you until we both come. We're going to fuck for a while, Gene, because I'm not going to let you come too early. I want you to enjoy it for a long time." I continued talking to him, low and urgent, as his breath came faster and faster. As I watched he stiffened and let out a low moan. I continued to encourage him until he leaned forward; his hand came up into sight.

He looked at me for a second, gave a slight smile, then started the car, put it in gear and slowly drove off.

That had been unbelievable!

...

It was getting a bit late when I was approached one more time. I thought he was good looking... perhaps not as heart-melting as Mr. Depp's lookalike had been, but I liked his looks: tall, athletic rather than slender, laugh lines around his eyes. I was partial to the short hair...I thought of my not-so-subtle suggestions to John over the years, always ignored, that he cut that mop of his...the horn rim glasses, three button navy suit, blue oxford button-down shirt worn with the old school tie. I'm a sucker for that preppy look; most of the guys I saw regularly didn't wear it: John and your husband, Mary, have a more modern, New York look in their suits; Claire, Bill wears jeans to work; and the guys in my office were almost always in business casual.

"I was speaking with Tony," he indicated the bartender. "I mentioned that I was looking for some companionship and he said I should make your acquaintance."

"Well, of course any friend of Tony's...," I laughed and stuck out my hand. "I'm Deborah."

"I'm very pleased to meet you, Deborah. May I buy you a drink while we discuss things?"

"Well, I think I've had enough to drink. Perhaps we could just settle things now? It's $400 an hour." I was becoming quite blasé about quoting a price for sex now.