An Escort's Confession Pt. 02

The newspapers expose me as an escort. My husband divorces me. I get nothing from the divorce except a few Knick Knacks and my clothing. I still have over four hundred thousand dollars in the bank after paying my lawyer.

I wasn't welcome at the pottery studio where I made pots before being caught. The owner didn't allow me to renew my membership and told me that the members had voted against my return. I enjoy using my creative talents to make items that were praised by some experts, and I made a little money selling a few pieces. I'm not skilled enough, however, to make a living at pottery

Even though I have a college degree; I don't have a meaningful resume: wife and escort are not backgrounds that lead to a career.

My assets are the money I have in the bank and my looks and body. What could I do with the money and my voluptuous nature? I'm qualified as a wife, a prostitute or an escort. I'm not looking for a replacement for my ex-husband, so I have to consider the other two possibilities.

There is a lot of danger and not much money in being a prostitute. Being an escort is much safer and more profitable. I enjoyed my life as an escort. There was the thrill of cheating on her husband, and the, delights, excitement, and exhilarations of meeting a new man every few days and sometimes having exciting sex and on other occasions the sessions were only passable. In any case, I was well paid. If I returned to being an escort, there wouldn't be the adventures of cheating on my husband, but the other joys would remain.

I called one of my former escort friends, Lindsey Rich, for coffee.

We met at Starbucks at the Marriot Hotel at seventh and Peachtree NE. Being in a fancy hotel where the clientele is upscale, both of us have dressed casually in jeans and blouses, we stand out for our looks and builds.

As we wait in line, both of us notice that the male scape is paying attention to us. Even though it's 10:00 a.m., Lindsey and I have to wait for a table to empty. One does, and we get to it at the same time as an older man, probably in his late forties.

"I believe it's a tie, would you ladies mind sharing the table?" He asks.

"We'd prefer to be alone as we have girl things to talk about," Lindsey says.

"I understand, take the table," he says gracefully.

He may be in his late forties, but he's handsome with flecks of white in his dark brown hair, and I haven't talked to a man of his stature in a long time. "No, it's okay we can talk later, please join us," I say.

"Thank you very much, it's polite to allow me to join you," he says placing his cinnamon roll and coffee on the table and helping me into my chair.

"I'm Max, Maxwell Smart actually," he smiles as he sits across from me and adjacent to Lindsey.

"I'm Kelly Rhoades, and this is Lindsey Rich," I say indicating her.

"It's a pleasure to meet two such beautiful young ladies. I'm usually stuck with older women or men," he laughed.

Our conversation was just chit chatting about the weather, the crowd, the economy, politics and our jobs. Lindsay lied about the type of work we did. Max was in banking.

"I'm a vice-president of the Atlanta Bank and Trust, but it's no biggie. I've been in banking since I graduated from Georgia Tech."

He quickly finished his roll and coffee, and as he was about to get up, he said, "This may be inappropriate since we just met, but Kelly would you have dinner with me this evening."

I was surprised. I looked at Lindsey and then Max.

"Kelly that's a yes or no question?" Max says as a business executive.

"Yes, I'd be pleased to have dinner with you," she winked at Lindsey.

"Good, give me your address, and I'll have my driver pick you up at seven. We'll be going to my club, and formal attire is required. I'll be wearing a gray suit with a blue and red tie."

"I don't believe giving you my address is wise. Have your driver pick me up at the train station at The Buckhead Station at 3360 Peachtree," I say with steel in my voice.

"You're correct; I should not have asked for your address. It's inappropriate, and I apologize. I'll have my driver pick you up at the train station, and see you shortly after 7:00. Thanks for accepting my offer." He turns and leaves.

'What do you make of that invitation?" I asked Lindsey.

"I wish, he'd asked me. I haven't had a real date in a long time."

"This isn't a date it's a business transaction. It's going to cost Max a bundle to get into my panties." I laugh.

"I guess you're going back into the escort business?" Lindsay said finishing her banana bread.

"I've been thinking about it. If you join me, we can find a half-dozen young girl to work for us we can make some serious money. I've enough saved get started. I probably have enough to keep us afloat a year or two, if we can't make out within six months we both need to look up a new line of work."

"I don't know if I want to do that again. The sex and money were great but getting caught was another matter," Lindsey says looking at an attractive young man who came into the café.

"You certainly haven't lost your eye for hunks like that. What if he could put down five or so for a half-hour of your time?" I say looking at the same young man.

"I doubt he has the money. Anyway, let me think it over until we can meet someplace where we can talk uninterrupted and see if we can come up with a plan that will bring in the money and keep us under the radar of the authorities."

I'll go along with that. How about you come to my apartment this Friday, and we'll make a weekend of it. I'm sure we can create a fool proof scheme for an escort business. I say standing to leave.

"Okay, I'll be at your place for dinner on Friday. I'll bring an overnight bag and the wine."

We hug and leave the coffee shop and hotel as we go our separate ways.

* * *

I dressed conservatively wearing a black dress with a high neckline and a hem at mid-thigh. I walk to the train station; it is only two blocks from my apartment. I waited for about five minutes when a black limousine drove up, and the chauffeur gets out, walks to me, and asks if I'm Kelly Rhoades?

"I am, how did you know? I asked looking over the handsome, tall, white driver.

"Mr. Max give me a detailed description of you and the fact that a beautiful woman seemed to be waiting made my task simple. Shall we go?" He led me to the limo, opened the door, and helped me in.

"Where are we going?" I ask as the driver starts the car and drives away from the station.

"You're going to have dinner at Mr. Max's mansion. He has a marvelous chef, and the food is the best in town. He also has a wine cellar that contains almost anything you might like, and that doesn't include the liquor cellar. It'll take about thirty minutes. There's a wet bar right behind my seat. Help yourself if there is anything you'd like." He says looking at me in the rear-view mirror.

Thank you, I believe, I'll have a look. The small refrigerator contains some wines, and my favorite Moscato was one of them. I pour myself a flute full, sat back, and sip on the wine as we travel from the city into Buckhead the most expensive neighborhood in Atlanta.

The limo turned on to Peachtree NE and then to Lennox Avenue. He pressed a button on his visor as they turn into a walled Mansion. The iron gate opens, and the driver follows a circular drive way to a granite covered mansion that looked like a mid-evil fortress, with thick walls and four stories topped by a steeply slanted slate room. There were eight windows on each level, with a tunnel-like entrance covered by a balcony. It was elegant in an old-fashion way. The car stopped at the entrance, the driver helps me out of the and led her to the entrance and a massive wooden door. The door opens before she rang the bell.

A tall, slender male dressed in a black suit, greets me.

"Ms. Kelly Rhoades, I assume?" he asks.

I said "Yes," in return.

"Come in and follow me to Mr. Maxwell's office," he says.

I walk behind the servant with my four-inch heels tapping the floor as we walk to a door to the right of the foyer. The walls of the room are a bright white, and the walls covered with large framed pictures. They must have cost a fortune; I thought as the door opens. Max greets me at the door, wearing the outfit he described.

"Ms. Rhoades, please come in." He opens the door wide. "I'm pleased you've come. "

I unexpectedly see two males about Max's age in the room.

"These two gentlemen are my associates, Alexander Pinson; he goes by Alex, and William Craft. I call him Willie. They were both in their late forties or early fifties, good looking, dressed in designer suits with power ties. I shook both their hands and said, "I'm pleased to meet you both."

"Please have a seat, Ms. Rhoades. Is there anything you'd like to drink? I have a wide variety of wines and liquors." He walks to a wet bar at the back of the room, painted in a beige color and on the walls were pictures of eight young men in military uniforms.

"I'd like a glass of Moscato, please. I had one coming here, and it was quite delicious." She looked at the three gentlemen and smiled. "The pictures are of persons you know?" I ask looking at Mr. Maxwell.

"Two of them are my sons," he indicated the wall at the back of the room, and the others are the sons of Alex and Willie." He pours me a tall flute of wine, gives it to me and sits beside me."

"Thank you," I take a sip. "This is even better than the one in the limo," I say.

"Thank you, let us get down to business. I believe you and Ms. Lindsey Rich wanted some privacy this morning to discuss some business. "Would you be willing to tell us what type of enterprise you're interested in?"

"How did you know that was our purpose?" I ask wondering how he could know that.

"It happens, that I'm an expert lip reader, and I caught a snatch of your conversation while you were standing in line," he said.

"If you have that ability then you know what type of business we wanted to discuss." Kelly blushed.

"I didn't understand everything you said, so I only have a vague idea as to what you're interested in creating." Mr. Maxwell said staring at her.

"Lindsey and I have a history."

"I know because I looked your name up in the archives of the Atlanta Journal.," he said.

"You know then that we were escorts and discovered by the authorities, and my husband divorced me."

"Yes, all three of us know, but we don't know what you and Ms. Rich are thinking about for the future."

"Is there a reason why you invited me to dinner, and then to intergrogate me about my business plans?"

There is. The three of us are venture capitalists as a hobby, a very profitable hobby it turns out, and we may be interested in investing in your venture. All three of us, although already wealthy, like to use some of our funds to play around with risky but potentially profitable businesses," Mr. Craft said.

"Both of us are out of work because of the demise of the company with which employed us. I have been thinking about starting my own escort business, but Lindsey is reluctant, and we are going to spend this weekend brainstorming what we might do." I said.

"That's a sound strategy," said Mr. Pinson," it demonstrates you not just another dumb blond."

"If that's a compliment, I thank you. If it's an insult, I should probably leave," I stood.

"My dear Ms. Rhoades, I meant my crude comment as a positive statement about your intelligence. I apologize if you took offense," Mr. Pinson said.

"Why don't we discuss this matter over dinner," Mr. Maxwell says standing and pushing a button.

Immediately, the door through which I entered opens and an attractive black lady dressed in a maids uniform opens the door.

"Dinner is served, please follow me," she turns and leads the way to a smallish room painted in a light blue with a modestly sized table set for four, with candles, wine glasses, and classical music playing in the background.

A male servant comes into the room, wearing a black suit with, to pour wine for each of us.

"The wine is Moscat0, which is an excellent complement to our meal of swordfish. A toast to Ms. Rhoades." The men held up their glasses before taking a sip.

"Thank you for the toast, Mr. Maxwell, but I'd love to hear the reason for it."

At that moment, the African-American maid came into the room to place a shrimp cocktail in front of us.

"Eat with relish, lady, and gentlemen, the cocktail was prepared by Miriam, and it's excellent with swordfish.," To answer your question, Ms. Rhoades, I toasted you because of your beauty, and because I believe we will form a successful partnership."

"Thanks again for the toast, but I'm not sure I want to have a financial relationship with you gentlemen. While I'm talking, may we call each other by our first names so we can be less formal as we eat and converse."

"Heaven's yes," Max said, "We sound like were eating before the Queen of England. Why wouldn't you want to enter into a business agreement with us?" He dipped a shrimp into the cocktail sauce and took a bite.

Kelly followed Max's lead. You're correct; the sauce is excellent and is complimentary to the shrimp. To answer your question, I have enough money in the bank to keep a company afloat for at least two years. Thus, I don't need your money."

The discussion continued in a different direction as they consume the shrimp, an African-American male enters the room to remove the empty plates. He's followed by the maid returns with small fruit salads which consist of a slice of pineapple, a slice of Cranberry sauce, and topped with cottage cheese and a green cherry.

"This is a recipe I picked up from a former mother-in-law. I like it a great deal." Max says.

"To continue our conversation about your business, I think it best if we know what type of enterprise you are planning on establishing?" Alex cut his salad into eight slices and put one piece in his mouth, and stared at me.

"Lindsey and I have no only a general idea of what we want to do," I said stalling.

"Come on Kelly tells what it is you're planning on doing?" Willie asks.

I hesitate, "We are considering an escort service for the wealthy."

"Okay, now that makes sense,' Max said holding a forkful of salad. Willie, Alex, Lindsey, Kelly's partner is as good looking as Kelly and built the same."

"It seems Kelly that you and your partner are going into a lucrative business, and there is something we can provide besides money," Willie said.

Finishing her salad, Kelly asked, "What exactly is it the three of you can furnish that my money won't?"

Alex said, "There are two things we can supply that you need immediately. First," he held up one finger, "we can create a list of potential patrons for you. A list of some of the richest men in Atlanta and beyond who are often in need of an escort as eye candy for an important meeting, and, of course, for the activities for which escorts are best known., sex."

"That's correct," Willie said, "and second, we can arrange legal assistance for drawing up the documents you need to establish such a business, and we have the connections to keep you clear of the authorities."

Finally, your money can do some of those things, but you can have them immediately," Max said clapping his hands.

The African-American servant removes the salad dishes, and the entrée placed before each of them by the beautiful maid. It was grilled Salmon, accompanied with small red potatoes cooked in butter, and roasted asparagus.

"The salmon is fresh as it was caught this morning and flown into town this afternoon. You can't get much fresher than that," Max said smiling.

"Think about what we can give you upfront before you even have a concept or name for your company. Think about it as we eat," Alex says cutting into the fish.

I hadn't thought about a prospect list. I was concerned about the police and newspaper reporters who were on the look out to expose an erotic business and make a reputation for themselves. Having a list of clients and being protected from the authorities with legal assistance would be extremely helpful to our business. I thought about what aid they could give Lindsey and me as I ate the delicious salmon and sides.

Our wine glasses were filled several times as we ate, and the conversation was minimal.

Lastly, the African-American servants removed the dishes and wine glasses before serving Coffee and Strawberry Crème pie.

As we eat the dessert and consume the coffee, Max asks, "Kelly what do you think of the items we can arrange for your business?"

"I like that Y'all can create a list of prospects quickly, and give us legal assistance as well as protection from the fuzz. What do you expect in return for that kind of help?"

"That's a good and important question, and I believe I can speak for the three of us. We want to have sex with you tonight, now," Max said.

I sat up straight with a cup of coffee in my hand. "That's all you want for us to have a business arrangement? Is this a one-night thing or is it to continue? That offer sounds too good to be true."

"I believe, we agree that the time we spend with you this evening will seal the deal. Establishing the legal details can be ironed out shortly. Compensation for any further sexual favors will be at the going price. We, of course, would like to be included in the auditioning of new employees."

"At the going price?" I ask.

The three men looked at each other and Max said, "It's a deal if the four of us can begin tonight."

"Okay, I agree with some conditions: one, no kissing, two, only gentle breast play, three, you have to wear a condom, four, I will only go one on one, I don't care for having more than one partner at a time, and five, the safe word is watermelon.

Again, the men looked at each other.

Willie said, "Agreed."

Max clapped his hands, and the maid appeared. "Lashay, will you show Ms. Rhoades the work room?"

"Of course, Mr. Maxwell. Kelly will you follow me please." She turned and left the room with me following behind.

* * *

"What does he mean by work room, LaShay?

"Mr. Max has a bizarre sense of humor. The room he uses for his ladies is what he calls it.

"His ladies?" I ask.

"Yes, Mr. Max is quite a cocksman. He's usually be visited by a variety of young women two to three times a week depending on his work schedule.," Lashay says opening the door to a large bedroom.

"That's quite a work load for a man his age," I say staring into LaShay's dark brown eyes.

"I suppose it is, but Mr. Max is not an average individual in any way."

The work room is large with a king size bed in the middle covered with a white sheet and a dozen pillows. The room's colors are pink and purple, and there were some comfortable looking chairs, the light was dim, and the remainder of the gray carpeted room was empty.

"The shower is through that door, and the closet is full of alluring lingerie and robes. Will you need anything else?"

"No thank you. I'm going to take a shower, and I'll knock on the door when I'm ready."

"Enjoy, yourself. I don't know the other two gentlemen, but Mr. Max will amaze you," she leaves the room.

I'm not sure this is a good idea after seeing this room and listening to LaShay. She's a beautiful lady; I wonder if she's having sex with him. That's an interesting thought.

As I showered, I thought about the advisability of having sex with three men who in effect are my business partners. I'm horny as a shrew in heat, but still, these wealthy males are strangers, and this situation is a strange way of sealing a deal.

Finishing with my shower, touching up my makeup, and applying a spermicide I'm ready for a night of sex. In the bedroom, I decided to sit on the far side of the bed and with my back to the door but turned so whoever comes in first will have a profile view of my breast.