Escort Neighbour

I sat there for an hour thinking about what I had just seen. She was brazen. Clearly comfortable with her body. She was gorgeous and a little bit of a tease. I smiled to myself. I was really liking my new neighbour.

* * *

A couple of weeks went by. I would see Jennifer most days. We would talk briefly, laugh a little, and then go about our days. She would drive off every morning and return late in the afternoon. Working from home I got to see all this. It's hard not to notice the day-to-day activities of your neighbours.

I wanted to bring up seeing her naked that night, but there was no way to casually bring it up. She said nothing and never even hinted at it. She did tell me the weed we had smoked was amazing, and she had bought some from the local store.

Sometimes we would smoke together and talk across the fence. It was always pleasant friendly conversations. I was comfortable around her and opened up a little more. She now knew me for the geek I was and even knew most of the recent and old scifi and fantasy movies. She traded movie quotes like a trooper and knew all the cult classics. To my surprise, she even knew my favourite movie of all time 'Scott Pilgrim versus The World'.

We were smoking a cigarette, talking across the fence between us. She took a drag and blew it out. "So, who would you rather fuck, Knives Chau or Ramona Flowers? Or maybe Kim Pine?"

We had progressed in our conversations that this question didn't even phase me. "Trick question, Knives is underage."

"Okay, pretend she isn't jailbait. Which one?"

I thought for a moment. "Knives."

"I think I know why."

"Why then, smartass?"

"Ramona doesn't put out. She's actually kind of a bitch about it. Lures poor Scott into bed and then fucking changes her mind. Okay, I respect her choice, sure, but fuck that's cold."

"Uh-huh."

"Now Knives, she's hot and willing. She totally fights for Scott. A woman who is willing to fight for you will most likely also suck your dick."

"Uh-huh."

"When's the last time you had your dick sucked?"

I choked a little. She had obliterated our line of civility and created a whole new one much farther down the track. "Um, what?"

"Come on, old man. Spill. When was the last time Nancy sucked your dick?"

I debated whether I should answer. The truth was not pleasant. But Jennifer was fun, and I enjoyed these strange talks with her. "Only once, just before we were married."

Jennifer gave me an incredible look. "What. The. Fuck? Seriously?"

I nodded.

"That is totally fucked up. Seriously? Bill, that's not right. You eat her out?"

I nodded. "Yeah, all the time."

"You any good at it?"

"Um, I think so." Truth was I was pretty sure I was more than okay. I've had a few girlfriends over the years. Sex in my marriage was pretty much non-existent. I went through a painful time coming to terms with that. Even some depression if I could admit that to myself. The only way I could stay with my wife was to find sex elsewhere.

"Did you ever ask her why?"

"Yes, she said she wasn't brought up that way."

"Okay, that is more fucked up. Did her parents bring her up and say, when you are married don't suck your husband's cock? No. Of course not. This is a personal choice on her part." Jennifer looked pensive. "That's cruel. Does she like you eating her out?"

"Yup. Pretty sure she does." I finished my cigarette and stubbed it out in a little sand filled ashtray.

Jennifer finished her own cigarette and then looked at me. "Ever cheat?"

I looked at her for a long time. I didn't know if I could trust her. I barely knew her. But we had formed a friendship of sorts. And honestly, it felt good to talk about this with someone. "Yeah, a bunch of times. I've had girlfriends on the side. A few."

Jennifer nodded. "Good." She looked at her watch and a look of alarm crossed her face. "Oops, I have to run. Ciao! Talk later, okay?"

"You bet."

"Bye, hon!" she said and ran off into her house.

A little while later I was still outside working on my latest novel. As usual, I had an erection while writing my books. It was always an indicator on whether I was hitting the mark. My erotic novels are very, very dirty. It isn't vanilla sex. Its kink and very hard-core. It's how my mind thinks.

Part of me had noticed that Jennifer hadn't left her house. In fact, she hadn't left for work in the morning for the past week. I found it a little odd. I noticed a movement and looked up to see Jennifer look out her bedroom window and then close the drapes. I had caught a flash of red but was certain she had been wearing a sky-blue dress outside with me. I shook my head and concentrated on my novel.

I heard her doorbell ring and then silence. I could see between our houses and looked for a UPS truck or something. The street was empty. I lit up a smoke and looked up at her bedroom window. For a moment the drapes opened, and a strange man was looking out. He glanced down at me and then suddenly Jennifer was there closing the drapes. I caught her bare freckled shoulder for a moment before they disappeared.

That was decidedly odd, I thought and finished my smoke and went back to my writing.

Almost exactly an hour later I heard Jennifer's front door close. A minute after that a rather expensive BMW drove past our houses and away. I glimpsed the man behind the wheel. It was the same man I had seen in Jennifer's bedroom window.

She must have a boyfriend, I thought. But she said she didn't have one.

I was puzzled. I noticed the drapes to Jennifer's window open and Jennifer looked out. Her long red hair was mussed up. Her make up a little smeared. She looked flushed. She looked like someone who had just had sex. She saw me looking up at her and I saw fright in her eyes for just a moment and she vanished inside.

A half hour later Jennifer appeared back outside. She had fixed herself up. She lit a smoke and stood near the fence. I joined her. She looked long and hard at me. I could sense her trying to judge me.

"Boyfriend?" I asked.

Jennifer hesitated and then nodded.

"Nice. He looked rich."

"He is. Very rich," she said and took a drag.

"Nice."

Jennifer gave me a long look sizing me up for a moment. I didn't know what was going on, but I truly didn't care what she was doing. I shrugged at her. She flashed me a smile and went back inside.

* * *

I'm not a stupid man, but sometimes I can't see the forest for the trees. It took me about two weeks to figure out what was going on. I think I knew earlier but couldn't believe it.

A new man would appear at Jennifer's house almost every day. Sometimes it would be two men per day at different times. Some would stay for a few hours, but most would only be for an hour. Always precisely an hour. I watched from the front of the house. They would park a good distance away from her house and walk to her door. They always appeared nervous and would look around at the neighbourhood.

They were clients. Jennifer's clients. She was a service provider.

It took me a little digging on the internet, but I eventually found her. Her red hair was the critical tag I needed to locate her website and ads. She was a VIP escort and highly rated and in demand. Her website showed many pictures of her in varying stages of undress. Her face was either hidden or obscured, but I recognised her easily.

Her pictures were amazing. She had them professionally done, and they were erotic and exposed everything. I stared at a picture of her open, wet pussy all the time. It was my favourite picture of her. I found it extremely erotic living next door to a high-priced escort. I couldn't afford her. She was a thousand dollars an hour. She catered to all tastes with a really strict vetting process.

She only accepted clients referred to her by those clients she respected and trusted. It was by word of mouth. Based on the quality of the cars leaving the area, her clients were very wealthy. The upper one percent for sure. In the past two weeks she had seen thirteen men. Based on her lowest rate that was at least thirty thousand dollars. At least. Her speciality was catering to hidden desires. And men paid for it. She offered a service to discover their hidden desires, and those sessions required a minimum of three hours. She guaranteed her work. Jennifer had seen four clients for an entire afternoon each. That was six thousand a session.

No wonder she could afford her house. I figured she was making well over half a million dollars a year. I was impressed.

I said nothing to her. She would join me for a smoke. Sometimes we smoked some weed. We would talk about anything and everything but never about what she did for a living. I knew her well enough now that I knew she knew I knew.

One day I wrote out my pseudonym on a piece of paper. I passed it to her, and she looked puzzled.

"Look it up. That's my pseudonym. I know your secret, Jennifer. Now you will know mine. My wife doesn't even know."

Jennifer looked shocked and scared. That was the first time I had openly admitted I knew what she did. She looked a little ashamed and disappeared inside her house.

An hour later I heard my doorbell ring. I answered and found Jennifer on the other side. She was holding a bottle of wine in one hand and a MacBook in the other. She looked up at me and then pushed past me and into my house. I closed the door and found two wine glasses. I found her outside on my sectional. She wore workout clothes and even made them look sexy. Her shorts were cut pretty high and barely reached the top of her thighs. The material was pressed up against her vulva. They hid very little.

She twisted the neck of the bottle and removed the screw top. I thought perhaps it was a cheap bottle of wine and then saw it was a Penfolds Grange Bin 95. I'd heard of it. The bottle was easily worth $750.

I opened my mouth to say something when she shushed me. She grabbed the glasses and poured a healthy amount in both glasses. She handed me mine and then gulped back half of hers. She saw my smokes on the table and grabbed one and lit it.

Then she looked at me. It was a long hard look and I could see her sizing me up. She must have come to a decision. She took a drag and blew out the smoke.

"Do you have any weed?" she asked.

I nodded and then sipped the wine. I stared at my glass. Jesus this was good.

"Get it," she ordered.

I had to move past her and stopped in front of her. She looked up at me. "Move, I need to get past you."

She looked at me a moment and I wondered if she would ever move. Finally, she twisted her legs to the side. As I moved past her, I felt her hand brush my leg.

I got my weed and came back past her again. As soon as I got close, she moved her legs to block me. She reached up and ran her hand up my thigh. I couldn't help it, my cock surged to life. She watched it and said nothing. I was dying of embarrassment. I was standing there with an erection in my pants inches from her face.

She moved her legs and waved her hand past her. I felt disappointment. Part of me, the dirty man who wrote erotic fiction wanted something more. The sane part of me moved past her and put down my weed on the table.

Jennifer grabbed it and filled my vaporizer from the grinder. She turned it on and held the vibrating pen in her hand. She smiled at me when it happened, and I felt myself relax. If she still found that funny then we were probably okay.

She patted the seat beside her. I sat, and she scooted closer to me. Our thighs almost touched. I felt enormously nervous.

Jennifer took a hit and handed my vape to me. I took a draw and then exhaled. We said nothing but smoked and drank wine. When the vape turned off she set it down.

"So, you write erotic fiction."

"Yup."

"You're a best seller."

"Yup."

"I've read some."

"What? In an hour?"

"No, stupid. I read it about a year ago. And honestly, probably about five more of them. I would never have guessed it was you."

"I only have twelve published."

"They're really good. Really hot. I've used some of your scenes in my work."

That piqued my interest. "Really?"

"Yeah, I've acted them out with a couple with clients."

I found that incredibly erotic. I wanted to ask which ones but decided not to. Later. "So, VIP escort services."

"Yup."

"You're one of the top ones. Internationally."

"Yup."

"I've read your website. The reviews."

"Did you check out my gallery?"

"Yeah."

She said nothing, and I worried I had crossed some strange line. "Which one was your favourite?"

I swallowed. "Um, the close-up of your pussy. That one was the one I liked the most. They're all good, truly. You're gorgeous. But you know that."

Jennifer grabbed her MacBook and opened up the browser. She was getting her own wifi signal from her house. With a couple of clicks she was on her website. She clicked the gallery and scrolled down quickly and then clicked the picture I mentioned. It filled the screen. Her shaved pussy lips were swollen and pulled apart. Her clit was extended and engorged. You could see into her vagina and all the bumps and crevices that made it so wonderful. Everything was covered in her juices. She was so wet in the picture. I adored it.

"This one?"

I looked up from the picture and nodded. My cock was getting stiff. It's not every day you sit next to a world-class escort and look at a picture of her pussy. She was looking at the picture but then she looked at me.

"I like it too," she said. "My girlfriend at the time took it for me. Most of the wetness you see is her spit. She had just given me wonderful head. It's one of my favourites. It reminds me of her."

I just nodded. My head felt a little light.

"Does it bother you?"

I knew what she meant. She wanted to know if living next to an escort bothered me. I shook my head. "No. Not at all, actually."

"So what now?" she asked.

The questioned surprised me and I shook my head. "Nothing. We're good. There is no 'what now'."

Jennifer sat silently beside me. Then she moved slightly away. I looked at her and then dropped my jaw. She slid her shorts down and spread her legs in one smooth motion. Her pussy was right there in front of me. She spread the lips and showed me the inside of her pussy. It was just like the picture but real and right in front of me. "Is this what you want, Bill?"

I licked my lips. My cock strained painfully in my pants. Her pussy was stunning. A little patch of red hair lay above her mound, but the rest was smooth. No razor marks or anything. This was waxed. I desperately wanted to eat her pussy. The hunger was overwhelming. Jennifer arched her eyebrows at me.

"She's right here. Take her. Taste her."

I'm not sure where the strength came from. The weed was buzzing nicely, and I was horny as hell. I could smell her pussy now, dammit. I swallowed my spit and then grabbed my glass of wine. I took a sip and then toasted her pussy. "It looks better in person, Jennifer. There is nothing more than I would like than to eat your pussy. For hours. But..."

Jennifer looked surprised. "But...?"

"But I don't think you are offering it out of an appreciation of me. Look, I really like you. I admit I would fuck your brains out if given half a chance. But Jennifer, offering yourself to me like this? You don't need to buy me or whatever. Put your pants back on and let's drink this very, very expensive wine and enjoy this buzz."

Jennifer stared at me for a long time. I stole glances at her pussy. She might have looked hurt, but I had no idea how to judge her expression. After a moment she stood up and put her shorts back on. She sat back down and grabbed her wine and took a sip. "How expensive?"

"About $750 dollars a bottle."

"Jesus, Alan was good to me."

"Alan?"

"Yeah, a regular in Australia. In Sydney. His house overlooks the bridge and opera house."

"Do you have a lot of rich clients?"

"They all are. They can afford me. You're the first, by the way."

"The first what?"

"To turn me down. Dude, I was sitting back with my pussy right in your face and you turned it down."

"Yeah, I did. Not that I didn't want it. I really fucking do. More than anything. Jesus."

"So why'd you say no?"

"Cause that's not the way I would want it. It felt like a bribe."

"What?"

"You were bribing me with it. I dunno. To keep my silence or something?"

Jennifer said nothing for a while. "I was, wasn't I?"

I nodded.

"I'm sorry, Bill. That wasn't nice of me."

"No, it wasn't. I've been staring at that picture of your pussy for weeks. Then there it is right in front of me. Goddamn."

"Weeks? How long have you known?"

"A couple of weeks."

"You said nothing this whole time!"

"Nope."

"Did you jerk off to my pictures?"

I sipped my wine. "Yup. Bunch of times."

"Good. I like that. It's hot knowing men do that to my pictures." She said nothing for a bit. "Want to know how I got in the business. Most men do."

"Yeah, I kind of do. I guess I'm most men."

"No, you're different, Bill. So here goes, fresh out of high school, just starting university, I was at a really expensive bar. A girlfriend dragged me there. We entered a back way and found ourselves in a special VIP room. She knew what it was about and had promised the clientele two girls. They wanted a redhead so wham, this chick pulled me into her world. The escort world. I was pretty high, but I recognised some men in the room. They were some of the rich and powerful. Top brass guys. Executives. But I learned something right away. I was talking to the CEO of a rather well-to-do corporation. I could see right away that he was desperate for attention. As a man. Not as a CEO. I can't explain it but something clicked with me right then and there. They were broken men.

"So, here I am, in a VIP escort champagne room, and I'm holding this poor man and telling him everything he needed to hear to boost him back up to feeling good about himself. He cried like a baby, with me cradling his head. He calmed down, then I blew him because I liked him. I even swallowed. An hour of my life, a quick blow job and swallow, and I walked out of there with $10K in my pocket. He apologised. It was all he had on him.

"I left him my details. I liked the guy. I was hoping he might want to text or chat or whatever. When he contacted me next it was to refer me to another CEO he knew. That's how it started. I would sit, talk, help them, blow them and leave. It might have been my tenth client before I spread my legs. I had earned close to $100k just blowing ten men. The first guy to fuck me paid me $50K. It made my university studies seem lame."

"You're kidding, right? No one pays that much."

"I'm not just anyone, Bill. I have a way of diving past all the bullshit that men surround themselves with, rip it away, and make the men feel like men again. It's a gift."

"You don't do that with me."

Jennifer got a funny look in her face. She got up and slid onto my lap, knees up against my ass. She looked into my eyes for a long moment then she kissed me. Not a chaste kiss, but the kiss between two lovers. She was so gentle, so sensual, so much woman. She tasted like wine and cigarettes, but I didn't care. I felt my passion soar and then, it was over. She broke the kiss and looked at me. "That's because you aren't broken, Bill."

"Um, okay. If you say so."

"I do. Now. I want to do something for you, Bill the Neighbour."

"What's that?"

"I want to blow you. Will you let me do that for you?"

"What? Why?"

"Because when you told me your wife doesn't do that for you, my heart broke a little. I thought to myself, if I was your wife, I would blow you every day. It's not hard. It's empowering. I have a man's penis in my mouth, and I have all the power. Pain, pleasure, release. It's all mine."