A Trip Down Under Ch. 01

A trip Down Under

Chapter 1: Sydney: Meeting Scarlett, an exclusive escort

After the threesome with Julie, (see "Breaking in Anita - Chapter 9") Anita and I gradually drifted apart. I can't say whether the experience that night caused us to see less of each other, or whether there was another reason, but after the night with Julie, the intervals between our get-togethers seemed to get longer and longer. The sex was still good on the occasions that we did meet, but it appeared to be less intense. I never saw Julie again, never asked about her, and although I wondered whether the two girls may have been seeing each other without me, I did not spend too much time on it. I was very involved in my work, as the mining company we did a lot of legal work for was aggressively expanding internationally, and this involved travel to different countries in Africa and South America.

Our mining client had recently acquired prospecting rights in Australia, and when they asked me to form part of a team to visit Australia to explore joint venture opportunities with Australian mining companies, I did not hesitate. I'd never been to Australia, and although I thought that taking a lawyer along for initial discussions would be pointless, as the legal work would only start once an initial handshake deal was made, I saw this as an ideal opportunity to see a new country. Apart from the fact that the client was footing the bill, I would earn a nice fat fee for my firm.

When I met the rest of the team at the airport, it became clear that this was a heavyweight delegation: the team comprised of the CEO of the group, the Chief Financial Officer, and an assortment of mining engineers, geologists and hydrologists. I had met quite a few of these guys before, but was quickly introduced to the rest. felt confident that I was just there for the sake of appearance. Anyway, here I was, flying to a new country for the first time, and I was quite excited at the prospect.

We arrived in Sydney very early on a Thursday morning, the idea being that Thursday and Friday would be spent in meetings, and the weekend would be taken up by visiting mines in the vast Australian Outback. I already knew that I would not be required to go along on the mine visits, as it would comprise of ironing out technical issues, rather than legal work, so I had the weekend to myself.

The whole delegation went to the offices of the Sydney-based mining company for an initial meet-and-greet, and I met their lawyer as well. She and I gradually drifted to our own corner, spending our time in legal talk, as our breed tend to do. My opposite number and I quickly agreed that we were both there just for show, and that initial talks would only concern the miners and financial gurus. When the formal meeting convened, she raised her hand to ask whether we both may be excused, on the promise that we would remain within reach if required. I was learning that although very polite, Australians are a lot more straight-forward than where I come from, and that what I saw as a cheeky request, was quickly agreed to by the chairperson.

The Australian lawyer went back to her office, and I went back to the hotel to change into casual clothes and walking shoes to explore the city. I did not realize how tired I was after the long flight, and lay down on the hotel bed for a quick shut-eye. I woke with a start four hours later, by which time it was turning dark already. Having travelled through different time zones before, I knew that it was important to adjust to a new rhythm of day and night as quickly as possible to get over the jet lag, and that an afternoon snooze was the worst thing I could have done. It would now take even longer to get over the jet lag. I quickly dressed and showered to meet the rest of our team in the hotel bar before dinner. The group was very excited to tell me about the negotiations, and were hopeful that a deal might be reached, but agreed that things would only come to a head after the weekend, and that I would probably only be required to join any meetings on the Monday. After dinner, I went for a long walk through the streets of Sydney, enjoying the sights, but trying to walk myself tired enough so I could get to sleep at a reasonable hour.

As it turned out, I could not fall asleep at all. By 2pm, I sat up in bed and opened up my laptop to check my emails. There was nothing requiring my immediate attention, so I looked around for things to do on the weekend. I've often heard about the famous Bondi Beach, and found a reasonably priced hotel right on the beach. I booked a room for the Saturday night, planning to rent a surfboard and try out the waves at Bondi on Saturday and Sunday.

I still did not feel sleepy, and out of boredom, I started surfing porn sites. Being the naturally randy bugger that I am, I soon started looking at the high-end Sydney escort sites to see what was on offer. I've never slept with an escort, but have always been interested in paying for sex. Although Anita and I had indulged in a role-play fantasy, and I did in fact pay her for sex, (See "Breaking in Anita" Chapter 8) it was somehow not the real thing, as I could have slept with her for free at any time I chose.

I discovered that almost everything was on offer, from girlfriend experiences to BDSM and even golden showers. Some sites had menu options where one could choose age, ethnicity, hair color, dress size and even breast size before browsing through the available models.

Many of the models had their faces blurred out, but their bodies were almost on full display. I started browsing a site that claimed to be a hookup for independent escorts, and one girl in particular caught my eye. She claimed to be in her 30's, 174cm tall, long auburn hair with a magnificent athletic body, and just a little wisp of a landing strip - just my cup of tea. I was amused when I realised that after browsing through so many models, I had stopped at one who was almost an exact replica of Anita. The only difference was that she was older, and that excited me even more. I've never slept with an older woman, but had always fantasized about doing so. Her boobs were slightly bigger than Anita's, but appeared to be natural, and on the website, she claimed that they were.

On the photos that she posted, her face was mostly blurred, but there was one photo of her wearing a long white dress where the photographer or the photoshopper seemed to have misplaced the blur, and I could see one half of a beautiful face. At eight hundred Australian dollars per hour, she was not cheap, but at this stage, I was so horny that I decided to see whether she was available. She offered "Naughty GF Vibes" and was available for both in call and outcall. (I will call her Scarlett, which is not her real name, because the last time I looked, she was still offering her services, and I don't want to do her any disservice by exposing her). I decided to make an enquiry, and having registered and paying an initial deposit, I booked her for an hour on the Friday night.

Or so I thought.

I immediately received a friendly, but clearly automated email that thanked me for my interest in meeting her, but that she would like to know more about me before agreeing to see me. At the end of the email there was a list of suggestions about what she wanted to know such as age, drinks preferences, profession, interests and build. I composed a nicely worded little email telling her that I was on a business trip, that I preferred scotch or shiraz, and that I was a lawyer who loved cycling and water sports. Instead of elaborating about my build, I attached a photo of myself in my sleep shorts that I took in the bathroom mirror. I don't like to brag about my body, but am quite proud of the fact that I take care of myself, and due to doing lots of sports, at age 30 I had a toned, although not muscular body.

I did not expect any response from anyone that time of the morning, and thankfully fell asleep, fantasizing about what I hoped was to come.

I woke up with difficulty at 7am, and when my alarm rang, it took me a while before I realised that I was in Sydney and what I was doing there. I checked my emails, but apart from a few work-related things, there was nothing of interest. I went for a swim in the hotel pool on the top floor, and had a light breakfast next to the pool. When I came out of the shower in my hotel room, I heard my laptop ping, and there was an email from Scarlett; this time obviously written by herself, saying that she liked what she saw and read, and that she would love to meet me at 8pm. She provided her address, as I had indicated that I would prefer an "in call", and on the map in the hotel room folder, I saw that it was only four blocks from the hotel, right on the side of Darling Harbour. She listed a few instructions, inter alia that I should not smoke or drink for four hours before our appointment time, no kissing, unless she initiates it, and she made it clear that "for your protection and mine" she would insist on me wearing a condom at all times during intercourse. Scarlett also asked me to bring her "gift" in cash, and wanted to know whether I preferred her to wear anything specific. I quickly wrote back "Done. If you could wear the white dress that you wore in the photograph on the website, I would really like that".

I spent the day exploring Sydney, but my thoughts were never far from my upcoming date with Scarlett. I had a mid-afternoon snack and a Coke at a bayside café, and made a slight detour on my way back to the hotel to see exactly where Scarlett's apartment block was. I stopped at an ATM to withdraw the required amount of cash, and decided to add an extra $200.00. In for a penny, in for a pound!

I arrived back at the hotel at 5, showered and shaved very carefully, and got dressed in a casual linen shirt, khaki slacks and boat shoes. I still had time to kill, so I popped down to the hotel bar where I found that some of the negotiating team's members had started on their pre-dinner drinking already. I was dying for a beer, but taking heed of Scarlett's instructions, I ordered a Coke. By seven, I had enough of the mining talk, and excused myself to say that I was going out for dinner with friends. I went up to the hotel room to brush my teeth (again) and patted some Mont Blanc aftershave on my cheeks. It felt like a first date, and I won't pretend that I was not nervous as hell.

When I got to Scarlett's apartment building, it was a few minutes before the hour, but I rang the buzzer and was greeted with a "Hello, Brian, come on up. It's apartment 1801". I saw the little black eye of a camera at the top of the buzzer board, and realized that she recognised me from my mirror-selfie. As the elevator raced to the top floor of the building, my heart was racing in tandem. She must have heard the elevator's ping, because as I stepped into the foyer, the door of 1801, which was directly facing the elevator, opened, and there she was, wearing the same white dress as in the photograph.

In person, Scarlett was even more stunning than in the photographs - her white dress had a thigh-high slit on one side, and a well-shaped tanned leg was visible through the slit. She appeared to be more tanned than in the photos, and I assume that the pictures must have been taken in winter. She simply said "Hi, nice to meet you" and turned around to stand next to the door, allowing me to walk inside. She closed the door behind us, and stood on her toes to give me a kiss on the cheek. She smelled incredible: the aura of soap and shampoo mixed with a faint smell of perfume was intoxicating. She said "Do come inside" and led the way to her lounge.

The apartment was luxurious, but understated: a black marble tiled floor with rugs scattered here and there, light colored wood cabinets and bookshelves, and a set of dark brown couches and chairs around a coffee table standing on top of a woven rug in the middle of the room. There were a couple of lamps on small tables and cabinets, exuding a soft light throughout the room. The room itself seemed to stand back in order to give the sight through the large sliding doors the place of honor. I could not keep myself from walking closer to take in the sight of Darling Harbour below, and the lit windows of the city buildings across the bay. I muttered an impressed "Wow" as it was all I could think of. She gave a little giggle behind me. "I'm glad you like it; I've lived here for five years, and it still wows me!". I turned around to look at her again. Close up, I could discern fine crinkles around her eyes and mouth, but that did not detract from her beauty. I find older women who take care of themselves, and allow themselves to age naturally a lot more beautiful than those who try to remain young with Botox and plastic surgery. Scarlett reminded me of the photographs that one would find on the covers of women's magazines. I was trying to string a comprehensive sentence together to compliment her on her beauty, when I realised I was still holding the hotel envelope with cash in my hand. I stupidly went "Uh, oh, the gift". She giggled again, took it from my hand and put it on the cabinet next to the window without opening it.

She took my wrist in a slender cool hand, and led me to the drinks cabinet. "Wine?", she asked. I saw that there was a decanter, filled with red wine standing next to a bottle of Penfolds Shiraz and two huge red wine glasses on a little silver tray. I had regained my composure by now, and said "Allow me" and poured two glasses. "Thank you" she said as I handed her a glass. "Ching Ching" I said, trying to sound very cosmopolitan, and she returned a "Ching Ching" whilst lightly clinking her glass against mine.

She led me to the wide leather couch, and sat down on the floor at the foot of the couch, kicking off her shoes, and curling her legs under her. The slit exposed a long tanned leg, contrasting with her white dress. She put her left elbow on the couch, lightly resting her hand on my upper leg, and sipped her wine.

"What brought you to Sydney?" she asked.

I told her in broad strokes that I was part of a team negotiating a joint mining venture in the Outback, and that thus far, I was there on a free ride, because my services had not yet been required, and that I had the weekend to myself. She was interested to hear that I planned to go to Bondi the next day, and told me that it was her favorite beach to hang out and work on her tan. When I told her that I would be staying at the Hotel Bondi, she told me that she knew the hotel, and that although it was oldish, it would be her first choice of places to stay.

I was hesitant to ask about her profession, but she volunteered this information: Her parents died in a boating accident when she was nine, and she was raised by a widowed aunt. The aunt was her closest relative, and was granted guardianship by the Court. Her grandfather was a mining magnate in Western Australia, but she never got to meet him. Apparently, he was against the marriage of her parents, and refused any contact, even after she was born and after she lost her parents. Although her aunt was a kind woman, she was not the mothering type, and sent Scarlett to boarding school where she spent the rest of her school years. After school, she gained admission to university (or "Uni", as Scarlett referred to it) where she studied law. In her second year of study, her grandfather died, and left a fortune to a family trust, with the only beneficiaries being herself and her aunt. She lost interest in her studies, having suddenly become a woman of independent means after many years without much. She dropped out of university, and travelled the world, variously starting courses in fashion design, history, architecture and ceramics only to lose interest after a while, and dropping out.

All the while, Scarlett's position was such that I looked down at her, and the plunging neckline of her dress was such that every now and again, I could see the top of third of her right boob, and when she leant forward to pick up her wine glass, I thought that I could see the edge of a dark areola inside the dress.

She continued her story: When her aunt died shortly after her 30^th birthday, she came back to Australia for the funeral, and settled down in Sydney. She bought this apartment, and after drifting between various things again, she enrolled in a fine arts degree, and discovered that she had a talent for painting. She became good friends with a younger girl doing the same course, who was working as a call girl to fund her studies, and learned that with modern technology, and web sites dedicated to advertising for, and assisting escorts to stay safe, she had the option to pick and choose her clients. She admitted that she had always loved sex, and by pricing herself at the top end of the market, her clients were mostly well-to-do professionals and businessmen and she never felt in any danger. Depending on how she felt, she took on one or two, and at the most three dates per week, and thought that this sideline business suited her well.

The way Scarlett explained it made perfect sense to me - she got paid for doing what she enjoyed, and could pick and choose who she saw, which was a lot better than hanging out in bars or using online dating sites to meet someone. I felt fortunate that I had made the cut.

I told her as much, and also told her that I was a little nervous, as this was my first time on a paid date. She said "Well, let's try and make your first one a memorable one". She rose in one smooth motion, and led me to her bedroom.

Scarlett unzipped her dress, and pulled it down, over her hips, and down her legs before folding it neatly across the back of a chair. She wore only a pair of sheer white panties, which accentuated rather than hid the little landing strip underneath. She was tanned, and the smooth skin of her breasts was only slightly lighter than the rest of her body with a faint line where her bikini top would end. I could not help myself, and another "Wow" just fell from my lips. She smiled, and kissed me lightly on the lips before standing back to unbutton my shirt. She gently rubbed my chest with both hands, sending shivers down my spine before kneeling down to undo my belt and trousers. "You can touch me, you know", she said as she slid down my underpants. I bent down slightly, and took a breast in each hand, giving each a rub and a gentle squeeze as I felt their weight in my hands. Her beautiful breasts were heavy, topped with dark areolas and small nipples which hardened in my hands.

I sat down on the foot of the bed to get rid of my shoes, and she rose to put my clothes over hers on the chair. She returned to the bed and took up position between my legs. She took my almost erect cock between both hands, squeezing and tugging it a few times to bring it to full erectness. From somewhere she procured a condom, and, having removed it from its wrapper, she rolled it down my rod, using her hands in turn, stimulating me even more.

She took my erect cock into her right hand and lowered her lips around the head, giving a few gentle sucks. I've never experienced a blow job whilst wearing a condom, and although the sensation was a little numbed, I could feel the warmth of her mouth and the sucking motions even through the latex. I got hold of her breasts again, rolling the now erect nipples between my fingers, pinching and pulling on them in turn. From her email, I knew that cunnilingus was not on the cards, and was wondering what the next step would be. Be in the moment, I told myself, and submitted to her giving me a blowjob second to none. By now, she was sliding her mouth up and down over my cock in long, slow strokes, holding on to the condom around the root of my shaft with her right hand. I was grateful for the condom; had it not been for that thin layer between my cock and her mouth, I would probably have climaxed already. Scarlett was taking her time, forcing her mouth down on my cock as deep as she could, and at the end of each upstroke, she would keep her lips around the head, giving it a few sucks. She was clearly experienced in giving fellatio, and my rock-hard cock was enjoying the careful attention it was receiving. I could see that Scarlett's left arm was curled underneath her body, and suspected that she was rubbing her pussy to prepare herself.