A High Priced Call Girl Pt. 01

Sophie cherished nap time on a weekday. While it might not sound exciting on the surface, she loved being able to browse her favorite online stores, catch up on the latest design blogs, read a good book, e-mail a friend, or even join her little one for a cat nap. It was a moment of Zen. Chores could wait.

Sitting down in front of the 27" iMac, she placed her favorite coffee mug ceremoniously in the usual spot, inhaled the delicious aroma, exhaled completed, and then proceeded to leisurely scan her mailbox. Straight away, an odd e-mail stood out.

Title: Booking Request for Chloe

Sender: travelingPeter

It was not a sender she recognized, and her reflex was to delete it as spam. But as the cursor moved towards the trashcan, a niggle raised a flag. Peter was her husband's middle name, just as Chloe was hers. Coincidence? It was silly to think it could be, but curiosity got the better of her.

Dear Chloe,

I hope this e-mail finds you well. I am an international businessman who will be passing through NYC next week. I got your contact details from a mutual friend that has previously enjoyed your company, and was hoping you might be available to celebrate my birthday. I would like you to join me for the night on the 1st June. If this is possible then happy to discuss details.

Best Regards,

Peter

Mutual friend enjoying my company? Join for the night? What the...!?!

And yet. There were too many coincidences for it to be completely random. Not only the use of their middle names. But the fact that the 1st of June was indeed her husband's actual birthday. And if she had to give his job a generic description, international businessman certainly fit the bill.

Quickly she re-read the message, trying to make sense of it. Then it hit her...she knew exactly what it was asking. The cheek! There was suddenly no doubt that it was genuine. Especially recalling a conversation from the week before, asking her husband what he wanted for his birthday.

"You mean...other than a high-priced call girl?" he had joked (badly).

Was this what he had meant? Had he been planning this all along? It would certainly explain why he had blown off the proposition of a big party with friends. And taking advantage of a birthday to live out a kinky fantasy was totally within character. But that train of thought had implications. Did he fantasize about being with call girls? Had he already done it? Were they easy to find? And more importantly, why wasn't she offended by any of it?

With questions swirling, she instinctively turned to Google and typed the first thing that came to mind.

call girl

Although not sure what she was after, movie trailers and Wikipedia entries wasn't it. So, she tried something more specific:

call girl new york

Bingo.

"Ouah..." she whistled, clicking on one of the links.

Although the site pretended to be a place to 'rent models', even to her untrained eye it was obvious that it was a pretext for offering far more intimate services. Blondes, Brunettes, Latinas, Asians and Blacks. There was something for everyone, and the girls were drop dead gorgeous. Some looked around the same age as her, but most looked younger. Were they real profiles? It was hard to believe girls like that would have to sell themselves.

But a long-buried memory bubbled up. An incident that Sophie had tried hard to forget from her freshman year at college. Suddenly she could sympathize with the choices a young model might have to make. It was a tough industry, the pay wasn't great, and it was full of people looking to take advantage of naïve ambitious girls. Maybe taking control of that risk by working through an agency, where the sex was actually paid for, was a lifeline of sorts. A means to an end. Either way, she shook the memories out and went back to the screen, scrolling down until another link caught her eye.

The Double Life of a High-Priced Call Girl - The New York Times

The article was about a girl who worked as a part time escort, earning $200k a year on the side of her day job. $200k! That was a surprisingly large amount, leaving Sophie to imagine rich old men throwing money at a young beauty. Finishing the article, the surfing continued as a baffling new world opened up, highlighting just how close to the surface of civil society this world of sin really was. It was obscenely easy to find websites that had any number of attractive call girls, as they were called in the US, or escorts, as they were called in the UK. In fact, hiring a girl seemed surprisingly similar to shopping online: Google the key terms, compare photos and costs, order, wait for delivery...and hope the merchandize matches what was promised (giving a whole new meaning to 'Customer Service').

Having lost track of time, a stirring toddler reminded the young mother that her moment of Zen was over. But keen to get off a response, and with a wicked grin, she typed quickly.

Dear Mr. Peter,

Thank you for getting in touch. I am very busy at the moment and therefore it is unlikely that I can accommodate your request in the near future. How did you get my e-mail anyway?

She pressed send before signing off, but re-reading the terse response, actually thought it worked better that way. If he wanted to play, she wasn't going to make it easy. The game was afoot.

---

The rest of the day passed slowly as Sophie waited impatiently for a reply. It wasn't until evening, after the little ones were asleep, that travelingpeter finally responded.

Dear Chloe,

I am very sorry to hear you will not be free. My fault for leaving it too late. I would rather not say who passed me your details in order to safeguard his privacy, so you will have to take it on faith that I got your e-mail from someone who couldn't say enough amazing things about you. Maybe another time.

Wishing you all the best,

Peter

"Merde...c'est tout!?!" she cursed under her breath. "No clever retort? No trying to convince me?"

Sophie realized that she had been anticipating more, and felt let down. Where was the sport? It was like starting the foreplay...only to fall asleep before penetration. Totally unfair, and frankly most unlike him. Was he just tired because of his business trip? Was her previous response a bit too strong, thus scaring him into thinking he had gone too far? More intrigued by the online flirting than expected, the young MILF decided to throw him a bone to keep the chat going, hoping to catch her 'potential client' online before he went to bed.

Dear Peter,

Thank you for those kind words. Hope is not lost. I might be able to re-schedule things if your offer is...interesting enough. What did you have in mind?

Bisous

Chloe

To kill time while waiting, and fascinated by the new world of girls for hire, she was soon browsing again. American sites, English sites, and international ones too. Crappy agencies, VIP agencies, individual websites and classifieds. The number and variety of girls on offer was mind boggling. Some even offered to accommodate couples or groups for a surcharge, which was a titillating thought.

Without explicitly setting out do so, she eventually found herself searching for the most expensive girl possible. Eventually stumbling upon a VIP Escort in the UK who, judging from the online gallery, must have been a professional lingerie model or something. Although her face was either obscured, pixelated, or out of shot, it was obvious that she was gorgeous, and that her body was to die for.

Accordingly, her equivalent US dollar rates were eye popping:

-$3,000 for two hours;

-$5,000 for a dinner date (which was described as 2 hours for dinner and 2 hours of intimate time);

-$8,000 for overnight (limited to 12 hours);

-$14,000 for a full day (specified as 24 hours); and

-POA for longer periods.

Her services were not listed, but it stated that she was 'very open minded', and the 'perfect travel companion'.

'$8k for 12 hours,' Sophie whistled. 'Enough to buy that new Hans Wegner chair I've had my eye on...'

And just like that, the blonde realized the appeal of such work. For an attractive girl in need of funds, it offered a pathway to serious money. Browsing more websites, the young mother found herself lingering on the hot blonde ones. The ones that most resembled herself. And she began to wonder what it was like. Was it glamourous or horrible? Were girls treated well or badly? How did an appointment work? Intrigued, she rapidly entered a new search.

Hot blonde escort secretly filmed

The hits were all video links to well-known porn tube sites. Clicking on the first, she was suddenly watching a young blonde in a sexy red dress enter a hotel room. And no sooner had she entered, than a male appeared at her side, greedily pawing his prize.

Sophie settled back and watched as the girl stripped to reveal a delicious young body. One remarkably similar to her own. Small chest, narrow hips, fit legs, and a tight peach of an ass framed by a little black thong. The faces had been blurred to protect their identities. Which, while annoying at first, added authenticity. Giving the whole video a genuine 'voyeur' feel.

Although a strong woman in her own right, when it came to the bedroom, Sophie liked to be dominated. As such, she could empathize with the escort's subservient position. Servicing the client. Offering herself for his carnal satisfaction. And as the tingling between her legs grew stronger, she knew from experience that being submissive didn't rule out mutual enjoyment.

Quickly locking the guest room, she grabbed a towel, put it over the seat, got naked, and slouched back into the chair with her bare legs spread wide apart. Looking down briefly, admiring her own nubile body, she had come to understand that it was designed to give pleasure. For herself, and others. Irresistible pink nipples, cute and erect. A flat stomach, toned and hard. And a seductive little slit, enticing and sweet.

As the escort on screen was groped, Sophie's hands were only too happy to follow suit. Gliding over her own smooth skin. Playing with the sensitive nipples. Running through the moistening folds. Each touch setting off a pulse of joy and a whimper of delight.

"Umm," she moaned, working her buzzing clit. Flicking and rubbing it in a way that only she understood.

The sound of pounding flesh accompanied the increasingly hot action on screen as the nymph was then fucked in different positions, including from behind with her arms pinned back, which Sophie particularly appreciated. And losing herself in delusion, she glamorized what it would be like to be bought and used the same way.

"Oui," she hissed, sticking a finger deep inside. "Utilise ma chatte chère...use my expensive pussy."

Through a mist of lust, she watched the client push the whore onto all fours and menacingly rub his cock against her back passage. It was a guilty pleasure that she had only recently discovered, and without a second thought she shifted. Leaving one hand working her hard clit while the other dropped. Cooing in delight as the sensitive nerves around her wrinkled star came to life. Electricity radiating up her spine from the tickling sensation at her tight bum hole, already slippery from all the juice leaking down her perineum. Constantly seeking a higher high, the primal part of her brain had taken over, and it wasn't long until her fingertip was probing deeper and deeper into the quivering rectum.

"Ohh," she purred. "Baise mon cul, sale garcon...fuck my bum, you filthy boy."

And the world fell away as she shed any remaining inhibition. Legs spread wide. Fingers disappearing into both tight holes. Moans and gasps getting louder. Orgasm nearing. Hips moving back and forth to maximize the pleasure as the sounds of wet flesh filled the air. Her own, and those from the video, where the escort was now slurping on the cock that had just been deep inside her ass. It was too much. Bucking, the blonde let go, contracting in spasms as liquid leaked all over her hands. And without thinking, in the haze of bliss, she raised her smelly slick fingers and gave them a dirty lick.

------------

The next morning a reply was waiting.

Dear Chloe,

Thank you for re-considering my offer. I will have a suite at the Four Seasons. Let's meet for a drink around 8pm at the Ty Bar, then take it from there. Maybe leave your things at reception in the first instance. Please let me know what I can contribute for your time.

Regards,

Peter

'Ooh la la...someone is trying to impress,' Sophie grinned as she hurriedly tapped a response. 'But let's see how badly he wants it.'

Her hands clasped together in nervous excitement as the swoosh of the e-mail echoed around the room, and a reply accepting the offer came through that evening.

Sophie was immediately back online. Only this time, she was looking at beautiful wooden chairs, and the various finishes they were available in.

--------------

When Alex returned from his business trip neither one of them said a thing. Neither one of them mentioned the e-mails or anything else about the exchange. In fact, her husband seemed so normal that Sophie began to wonder if it had really been him. Maybe there actually was a mysterious wealthy stranger looking to pay her for sex...which was a surprisingly intriguing thought! Except, as Friday started, he made an announcement that confirmed it had indeed been him all along.

"Sorry Sweetie," he started, "Looks like I have a last-minute trip next week. Not far, just to Boston for a night. I'll head out early on Monday and be back by Tuesday."

"Really?" she pouted, looking up from her magazine and playing along. "But it's your birthday!"

"I know," he sighed, moving towards her, "I'm really sorry, but I can't get out of it."

"C'est pas possible...you're a senior partner for heaven's sake. Surely you can if you want."

"Sweetie," he crooned, kissing her forehead. "No choice I'm afraid, it's for a big client. Three-line whip and all that. Promise to make it up to you though."

"Vraiment?" she smiled slyly, as he walked away.

"Absolutely," he grinned, pausing at the door. "On my way home tonight...I'm picking up that new Sony Alpha SLR you've been hankering for."

"VRAIMENT!" she squealed in excitement.

"Yup. And...oh, before I forget," he added. "I've asked Leti to come over while I'm traveling next week."

"Leti? Why would I need a babysitter to help me out?"

"Well, if you don't want her to come I can just tell her not to...just thought you might appreciate the support. Leti has even agreed to spend the night, help get Ben off to playgroup in the morning, and look after the little one till lunch..."

"...has she now..." Sophie purred, raising her magazine to hide a knowing smile. "In that case..."

------------

The weekend passed slowly for Alex as his mind constantly raced through the possibilities of what he would do to make his wife earn her ridiculous fee. He had expected something high, but had still been shocked. $8,000! Enough to buy a decent set of wheels for pity's sake. And for just 12 hours!

Although he had never paid for sex, he was pretty sure that his wife was ripping him off. But then again, what difference did it really make? At the end of the day it was just taking money from one family pocket and putting it in another. And as thoughts of how he might dominate the hot blonde piled up on top of one another, he knew it was a bargain at twice the price. After all, what was a bit of money for the opportunity to own such a woman? Not just to take as a wife. But to use as a whore.

On Monday morning the couple managed to say good-bye without a hint of what was planned. At work, Alex informed his secretary that he had a last-minute trip, grabbed his bag, and stopped at the bank on the way to the hotel.

It was a thrill to ask the teller for so many $100 bills. Meeting her inquisitive glances with a Cheshire Cat grin, watching intently as she counted the money out and slipped it all into a plain white envelope.

"Business related?" the old lady nosed, as banks were becoming prone to do.

"Birthday present," he answered truthfully, if misleadingly.

"Lucky lady," she puffed, mistakenly assuming that his next stop was in the diamond quarter.

------------

The sexy and chic blonde checked the top of her iPhone screen again. 7:55pm. 5 minutes later than the last time she had looked. Cursing herself for having been early, she anxiously picked up the cocktail glass and sipped again. Perched elegantly on a red leather high chair by the bar, she felt exposed, convinced that everyone could see right through her.

But whether those around knew it or not, the presence of such a stunning woman on her own could hardly have gone unnoticed. Long blonde hair that had been professionally coiffed that afternoon. Sparkling blue eyes with a hint of silver glitter. A short black sleeveless dress from Alexander McQueen that looked see-through at first glance because it was made of elaborate black lace with skin coloured lining. And finally, killer black heels and sheer black stockings, which, because the dress had ridden up a little, could be seen to end mid-thigh, suggestive or someone who was more naughty than nice.

Sophie felt the invisible weight of stares pressing against the back of her neck, and couldn't control the urge to glance around. But unlike in daily life, when men caught staring would look away in embarrassment, here the predatorial eyes lingered. Feasting. Maybe propositioning. Rich and powerful men who were used to getting what they wanted. Men that liked to dominate. Men that saw women as trophies. It was at once scary and exhilarating to see the world through such a matrix...to be their prey.

"May I join you?" asked a deep baritone voice, interrupting her thoughts. "Or are you expecting someone?"

Her heart fluttered as a distinguished looking gentleman two decades her senior appeared to one side.

"Yes."

"Yes...to which question?" he asked in a crisp English accent.

"Yes...to both..."

"Ah, but of course. Better three hours too soon than a minute too late."

Missing the Shakespeare reference entirely, the blonde nodded, noting that his gaze had lingered briefly over her bare ring finger, devoid of the wedding band which had been purposefully left at home.

"Allow me to introduce myself. Here is my business card," he offered.

A smooth and confident move. No doubt well-rehearsed. Feeling both flattered and awkward, Sophie turned the richly embossed card over with her manicured fingers. And just as she was wondering what to say next, a furtive glance towards the entrance cut their conversation short.

"Pardon..." she apologized. "But my date is here."

The gentlemen sighed, reluctantly taking his leave. "Enchante, Mademoiselle."

"Au revoir, Monsieur."

The man who approached was attractive. Brown hair, khaki trousers and a well fitted navy-blue linen sports jacket. Sophie looked at him with a knowing smile and received a nod of recognition. And once he reached the bar, she leaned forward to kiss both his cheeks, as any Parisienne would.

"Bonjour...Peter. Nice to meet you."

"You are stunning...Chloe. The pleasure is all mine."

"Merci," she blushed.

"What are you drinking?"

"A mojito."

"Perfect, I'll order the same. But tell me...who was that old man you were speaking to?" he enquired, with an unexpected edge of jealousy. "Your grandfather?"

"My Plan B," she joked, dropping the name card idly onto the counter. "In case you didn't show. Why...are you the jealous type?"

"What can I say," he shrugged. "Men are territorial."

And they settled in, laughing and small talking like perfect strangers who already knew each other. She describing a recent move to the big apple and the surprisingly high cost of living. He describing a life in San Francisco and regular trips to the east coast for work.