My Mom, the High End Escort Ch. 03

This is my own favorite chapter so far. It's all about healing, recovery, and sweet lovemaking. Absolutely NO cuckold contents. Happy reading!

Let me know if you're an editor and you'd like to work with me. Many thanks!

Notes to readers:It has been such an emotional journey writing this series. I have often heard of "After the writer finishes the setting of his/her characters, the characters just come to life and make their own decisions", but never had a first-hand account of it myself. Writing the first two chapters make me realize that it is indeed true. The deeper I go into my story, the more free-willed my characters start to get, and my mind gradually retreats to the background to merely act as a stage for these amazing personalities -- Joey, Mom, and from this chapter on, Katie.

Think about the willful characters in Leo Tolstoy's War and Peace, or the absolutely irrational end of Anna Karenina. It sounds bizarre to say, but I get surprised myself whenever Joey or Mom develops an perplexed feeling or makes another erratic move. (Behaviors that, indeed, have pissed off many of my readers. But I promise you that I was equally pissed myself!) For myself, this characters-break-free thing is truly an amazing experience. I'm sure those of you who have written yourselves can relate. And for the ones of you that haven't yet, I hope this is an intriguing enough incentive to get your ass started on it!

In the previous chapter, we have seen Joey got his perfect image for mom, if not his whole world, shattered from accidently viewing mom's degradation. We followed his steps to his angry confrontation with mom. We saw mom using her sophism to bend his logic and abusing her parental authority to shut down his arguments. Worse of all, she was not above using her feminine charm to manipulate Joey. (Think about her taking off her shirt to wipe Joey's tears, her hugging Joey with only bras on, and her nudging Joey gently with her foot.) I don't know if you all of you guys enjoyed this depiction of an emotionally possessive and abusive mother, but I got such arousal writing this part, even more so than writing mom's gangbang by the Japanese patrons afterwards. (I know a friend commented -- what a disgusting and horrible woman! Yes, I agree)

As some of you guys must have figured, our guy Joey has a great rational brain. He was able to make sensical decisions like getting away from home to avoid being further manipulated by mom. But his libidos always got the better of him. The more he cut Mom the Mother out of his life, the more he got infatuated with Mom the Whore. And he would do anything to see more of the latter. Maybe Joey's greatest gain from his stalking missions was the accidental discovery of mom's escort roommate Katie, who enters the stage in this chapter, touching Joey's soft spots like no one else could.

At the end of the chapter, we saw yet another of Mom's uninhibited indulgences in carnal pleasure. We saw how proud and magnanimous she felt about controlling these men's pleasure, even though it was them making her performing deprecating sex acts. We saw the blonde woman serving in an assistive role to mom, and Joey's genuine concern for her. We also had to witness the uncomfortable moment when Joey got fully absorbed into the moment of desire that synced with mom's climax. It was a new low for his self-esteem, but also an intense source of pleasure deriving from his biological link to mom, unlike anything he had known before.

From this chapter on, we shall see the gradual spiritual revival of Joey, with the help from Katie -- the blonde woman. Now, I know for many of you, Mom is not an easily likeable character yet. Her emotionally manipulativeness as a parent, as well as her greed for lust as a woman may be too hot to handle. But I promise you that you will fall in love with Katie, just like I did.

*** ***

Chapter 03: Sex Therapy with Katie

It may sound strange to you, but after seeing and relieving myself to mom's reckless debauchery last night, I slept better than any night for a long time. Ever since I made the decision to cut mom as a parent out of my life, my heart started longing for something else to fill the vacuum she left, and that something inevitably became her other identity -- mom the escort. I no longer had the inhibition to avoid seeing her sexual side out of respect, so that flood gate just opened, unleashing torrents of my pent-up desire which culminated in peeping her in her ultimate sex act. Now that desire was met, and I felt fulfilled for the first time, ever since seeing her degradation by the provost which shattered my life in the first place.

The next morning, I woke up with a fresh pang of guilt. The intense lust had receded, and I started feeling disgusted at myself at following her like a creep and jacking off to her being fucked to the largest gang of men I had seen. I couldn't get rid of the doubt of what was going on with me. This doubt quickly grew into a new energy, and I started to feel restless again.

It cannot go on like this. I must do something. I decided.

But to do what? My strongest urge was to catch mom in her own act. But what happens after that? Do want to tell her to stop? Or do I just want to see her in shock? Is there a small part of me that doesn't want her to stop? Would she listen to me at all? What if there's a john with her? Will the john try to hit me? Would she even try to protect me?

I gathered my thoughts and decided the best course of action was to get a meeting with her posing as a john. If this wouldn't shock her to the core, nothing would.

But how do I get started? For one, I knew nothing about her escort identity, save for the location of the secret apartment. But going there directly again did not seem dramatic enough, and was a bit risky. If I got caught by security, my mission would be over. If I got caught by the blonde woman again, she'd likely warn mom and remove all the factors of surprise from my side.

I realized her secret third phone was the key to all that. If I could get her number, I could search for her escort profile, and start from there.

With that, I sprang to action. Brandon was out that day, so I took my own car and drove to my house. I parked a block away behind my house, left my shoes in the car, and walked across the block to the back door. The walk to the second floor was easy and quiet, since I was in my socks. I went in my bedroom (apparently mom kept it nice and tidy in my absence), got in the closet, and peeped through the door gap on the other side into mom's bedroom.

Now, the fact that my bedroom and hers were connected by a common closet, was the result of cheap work by the contractor many years ago when we bought the house. Originally, there was an absurdly long room, and my parents got it segmented into two rooms, putting a closet in between. All these years, mom never bothered to replace the closet with a solid wall, leaving me a great opportunity to peak on her -- but I never did. I had always been an obedient son, and I would never disrespect her that way, even thought I was already much captivated by her womanly body and allure since adolescence. And that was all for nothing. All that suppressed urge to peep culminated in the most epic peeping last night. How ironic.

I was lucky to catch her at the time when she was going to shower. I found the throw-away phone in her handbag on the nightstand. She always guarded her handbag, and never left it on the coffee table when coming home, like most other mothers do. And only recently did I understand why. The phone was locked, so I took out the SIM card and inserted it into mine. All I needed was the number, and now I got it.

On my way out I briefly considered peeping her in the shower, but my sense of mission triumphed, and I hurried back to Brandon's

*** ***

Now it was time to open my laptop and get to work.

A simple google search took me to a private website on top of the list. My heart was beating like crazy. The moment to uncover mom's alternative self, had finally come, and I couldn't help but feeling anxious. I moved my cursor onto the link, closed my eyes and prayed in my mind, and clicked.

The first to pop in front of my eyes was a picture of mom with just black lingerie, a pair of fishnet stockings, and red high heels on, laying comfortably on the floor, with one leg bent slightly up, and a hand placed gently above her crotch. Her face was blurred in the photo.

My heart raced like never before. Obviously, was by no means the first time I saw her in such an intimate way. I have already taken in far racy mental pictures of her, be it degrading sex with an older john, or lascivious gangbang by many. This, however, was the picture that finally confirmed her identity as an escort to me, and the mental blow of it was insurmountable.

I must have tried to cool down for a good five or ten minutes, before I could get myself to read the contents on her website.

"Renee Ravish -- elite companion of Rockville. Sultry, Sentional, Seductive." The title section went.

So Renee is your name, mom. I marveled to myself. Nice to meet you, Renee.

It was then followed by two paragraphs of well-written self-introduction. I was shocked at how realistic and descriptive it was -- in the sense that all the things it said about her were true, without give away enough details to expose her identity. The key to disguise is indeed not to lie, but to tell partial truths. I thought.

Without giving my racing 18-year-old heart any chance to slow down, I went on to the few other tabs to check on information like hours, pricing, and FAQs. She truly charged a hefty rate. I wonder how much one must make a month, to be able to enjoy her comfortably, without worrying about the financial repercussions.

I also saw a gallery of a dozen of her racy photos. They were well-lit and well-taken, at presumably her secret love-nest, highlight her well-endowed body parts and mesmerizing beauty as best as photos could. The only pity was her face was all blurred out. When her johns finally get to see her in person, when they see these deep green eyes, they will get their mind blown again.

I went on to the page of services provided. It was full of abbreviations and verbiages like BBBJ, DATY, GFE, K9 and such, that I did not fully understand. I wanted to google them one by one but realized that would serve no purpose other than arousing myself in a twisted way, so I stopped, rather begrudgingly.

After stopping to absorb the info for a few minutes, I realized something. Mom's tone, throughout these texts, while suggestive and eager to please, was also firm and confident, even a little domineering. She took special care in stressing her rules, such as new clients must validate themselves, clients who canceled more than once must pay deposit before booking, and that client can receive blowjobs bareback but must wear condoms all the time during penetration. Hard limit. No negotiation.

But wait. What did I just see, when she was fucking Mr. Svenson, or the Japanese, then? There was no condom and she let several came in her!

I started feeling bad for her clients. This woman's incongruence knew no limit, and she would always make you feel bad for crossing her lines, even if these lines mean nothing to herself. But even with realizations about her often-hypocritical nature like this, I had more sympathy than anger towards her. Mom, doing all these have been hard for you. That's why you had to be harsh and mean and dishonest.

After finally having gone through all the info, I decided now it was time to reach out to her. I had her number, which was an obvious way to reach her, but I couldn't since I didn't have a throwaway number myself. Therefore, I registered for a throwaway email and messaged her for an appointment. In the email I describe my age as 26, with a job as an IT Consultant.

I was going to go to bed and check back later, when I saw my email notification immediately popped. My mom really is a responsive professional, regardless of which business she's in, be it real estate or escorting.

"Hello! Yes. Can do this Thursday, Friday, or Sunday afternoon. First date must be 1 hour at least. Go through the guidelines before you come. Do you have a verified account on q511?" Her email said.

I had no idea what that was, so I emailed back as polite as possible "Sorry Renee. Unfortunately, I do not. Is there other way I can help you verify?"

"Give me references from two other providers, or send your driver's license with LinkedIn page." Her reply came back, terse as ever.

My confidence started to wane. "I'm so sorry Renee. I just recently got into hobbying so I don't have two references. As for ID and LinkedIn I don't feel too comfortable to share my identity with you yet, hope you understand. May I send you a copy of my physical, with personal information cropped out? I guarantee you I'm clean. Would that suffice?" I replied, a bit upset at how disgustingly polite I sounded myself.

"Sorry I don't do newbies." Was all she answered.

*** ***

With a new influx of anger and frustration, I tossed and turned in bed and couldn't sleep. After maybe two or three hours, I got up, opened mom's website again, scrolled to Gallery, and was ready to release myself to her lewd pictures, before I reminded myself that I had a mission, and tucked my dick back into my underpants.

Unwilling to admit defeat, I started googling mom's stage name Renee Ravish frantically. I went through a few rather unhelpful pages, a few of them past johns' reviews on her. My lustful brain wanted to take a closer look at them, but I told myself I could not handle any more contents of other men talking about having their ways with her.

Finally, one page caught my eyes. It was advertised on a shady looking forum, with a picture of mom, together with the blonde woman I saw so many times at her secret apartment. The title reads "Come play with Mistress Renee and Maid Katie xoxo."

My heart nearly busted, and my jaw almost hit the ground. I was surprised that I didn't consider myself the possibility that mom and she would appear together, even after seeing them performing together at an orgy. I felt deeply unimpressed with my own intelligence for the first time. But my delight from this discovery far triumphed over my disappointment at myself, as this woman (now I also knew her name was Katie, at least in the escort business) may just provide me the gateway to eventually get to mom.

One search led to another, and I got ahold of the number Katie uses for her escort business. Since I didn't need to worry about her finding out who I am as I worry about mom finding out, I texted her on my phone.

"Hello Katie! I saw your info on the website, and you look awesome. I am a 26-year-old young professional looking for a good time. Would it be possible to set up a date this weekend? By the way I hope you don't mind I'm a newbie. Cheers."

I left this message and went back to sleep.

The next day, she did not reply for some time. With the worry that this may not be working at all, I went downstairs and played a few games with Brandon. As we were probably at the end of our 6th or 7th game, my phone vibrated.

"Hey handsome! Thank you for reaching out. I would surely love to. Since you just got in this awesome hobby, would it please you to meet up for coffee first? The coffee date will be for free (except that you do need to buy me coffee like a proper gentleman). It's just for me to make sure you are not a cop or a serial killer 😊 let me know xoxo" was her reply.

I felt uplifted for the first time in days and texted back in a hurry. "Surely I'd love to. Let me know the time/place"

"How about Saturday 1pm at the Starbucks downtown?" She texted back, this time right away.

I was ecstatic, "Absolutely! See you then!"

"Oh yeah, I forgot to ask. Could you send me a picture of yourself with two fingers over it?" She added one more text.

I was hesitant again, "sorry -- em -- but I don't feel comfortable in sharing my picture with you just yet."

"A pic of your dick, not your face, silly. Just making sure you have no STD or skin conditions." Katie replied. She must had been giggling on the other side.

*** ***

The day came, and I arrived at the Starbucks 5 mins early. To avoid being recognized by her, since we did meet at mom's apartment before, I went to the barbers and got a buzz cut. I didn't even feel much sorry saying goodbye to the medium-long hair that I had always taken pride of, since all that was going on in my head was the excitement and anxiousness to see her. I also ditched my glasses, and put on a buttoned-up shirt, a part of brown khakis and sneakers, trying to look as professional as my 18-year-old self could.

I anxious waited for another 20 minutes before I got a text, "Hi handsome, I'm almost there. Could you get me a double shot caramel macchiato? Katie" So I eagerly got up, and ordered a coffee for both of us.

About another 7 or 8 minutes later, a tall slim woman showed up at the door. Her light blonde hair was tied back into a ponytail with a blue scrunchie. She wore a blue summer dress with white polka dots, and blue suede ankle boots. The skin on her legs in between the dress and the boots a creamy pale color.

She opened the door and walked in. She removed her sunglasses, put it into her bag, and glanced around to search for me. Her eyes looked incredibly blue with the whole set of blue garments she was wearing. I waved at her, and she smiled, and walked to my direction.

She took her seat opposite of me at the table, put down her bag, and untied her hair. She gently shook her head, sending her golden hair to loosen and relax before they landed on her delicate shoulders. She offered her right hand, so I reached out mine and shook hers.

"Hello handsome. You are a bit younger than I thought." She said, "How old are you? 19? 20?"

"18." I said, embarrassed that all my effort to make myself look more mature was easily blown, "I was worrying that you wouldn't see me, so I lied about my age."

"It's all good. We are all so scared of rejections, aren't we?" She asked with a wink, not offended at all by my deception.

"It is true, and I suffer from this fear all the time." I admitted, feeling a bit shy.

She put her soft hands on top of mine, looked me into my eyes, and said, "Don't worry. That's what I'm here for. But first, let me tell you a bit about myself."

From what she told me, I learned that she has a master's degree, and was a certified psychotherapist before becoming an escort. The reason that she switched career, according to her, was,

"When I was doing therapy, I became disappointed at how people treated their own issues. They came to me, talked about their problems, and felt a lot better. But when they started feeling better, they would see the problem as gone, and stop coming. I tole them my mission was not to make them feel better but work out the origin of their problems with them so they could deal with them. None of them took it seriously. Many would come back half a year or a year later, when their problems or traumas caught up with them, and they would break down promising to work with me together this time. But as soon as they felt a little better about themselves again, they stopped coming once more...

"And it just went on and on like this. It was not like I got offended by them not listening, or that I lost money from their absences, although that was also a factor. What pained me the most was, as a very empathetic person, it broke my heart every time to see them coming back devastated. It made me feel so helpless. It was not long before I decided I couldn't carry on like that anymore.