tagLoving WivesSelling Myself

Selling Myself


My name's Katie and I'm 46 years old. I'm happily married, 5'4", brown hair and eyes, 135 lbs, 34C, with ample hips and a heart-shaped ass. I have two daughters in college. My husband, Jeff, travels almost two weeks a month. I have a full-time job as a professional at a large hospital, but I have evenings and weekends free.

I love my husband very much, and have no desire to leave him, but for the last three years, I've wanted to augment the family income since my husband's business has been struggling.

I've always had men stare at my boobs, and check out my ass, and it's always enjoyable to have male attention. But then one day, something happened that sort of opened up some repressed feelings I must have always had.

I was having lunch with a long-time friend from college my college days, Caroline, whom I hadn't seen for several years. She is knock-out gorgeous at 44, a buxom blond with a beautiful face who has always had to beat men off with a stick even with a wedding ring on her finger.

We spent a few hours catching up, drinking wine into the late afternoon, and the conversation turned to sex and men. I had decried my husband's lack of attention and my feelings of neglect in the sexual arena. We chatted back and forth, and then because Caroline was a little tipsy, she accidentally blurted out that she did some escort work on the side. She said she was pleased to have solved the 'lack of sex' problem as well as adding some much-needed cash to the family pot.

I was floored, to say the least.

I inquired further, and the long and short of it was that she worked for an escort service that specialized in well-preserved, shapely, beautiful mature women. Married housewives were not just part of the mix of 'associates', they were preferred.

This was amazing to me, as I never would have suspected such a revelation from Caroline, but I had to admit she had the goods. She was quite good looking, well built and well maintained.

She told me that she worked once or twice a week, usually in conjunction with some kind of conference or convention. In addition to the typical Friday or Saturday night outing with a conventioneer, she did occasional weeknight work with a few 'regular' local clients she had developed over the course of the three years she had worked as an escort.

She said not all of the work involved sex - sometimes she was just arm candy for a dinner party - but usually the man would request some sort of sexual play, which she had learned to greatly enjoy. She called herself a 'provider', and was proud of the services she provided to her satisfied and happy clients.

She said her escort company was always in need of more women to join the firm and provide services, and she giggled that I was just the kind of woman that was perfect for their upscale, elite clientele. I was afraid to ask what 'sort' of woman she thought I was, since I think she meant it as a compliment.

I asked if her husband knew about it, and she said that he did. I was amazed he'd handle such a thing, but she assured me that the average of $3000 per week, after taxes, that she earned had gone a long way toward assuaging his fears of losing her. Even he admitted that her libido was far advanced of his, and she was much more calm and friendly since she'd began this work.

She intimated that it kind of turned her husband on, to think that his wife was so hot and desirable that other men would pay money to have her. In fact, their best sex was after she'd been on a 'date', and she had more sex with her husband since she had started working as an escort.

Go figure.

That was enough revelation for one day for me, so the conversation veered off that subject as I'd had all the information I could handle for a while. But when I got home, I started thinking.

That's always dangerous, you know. Thinking.

I wasn't what you'd call a 'sexually experienced' girl in college. I'd only had sex with one other boy before I married my husband, and it was somewhat less than satisfactory. In fact, it was horrible.

Ever since I had turned forty, I'd actually noticed I thought about sex more than when I was younger. My desire for sex had increased, while my husband's had waned. I suppose I was a late bloomer in the libido department.

So, since I really hadn't had any broad experience of men in my past, it was kind of an attractive thought to sow a few wild oats at my advanced age. Getting into bed with men of different shapes and sizes was becoming an intriguing concept for me, once I began to think about it.

Thinking about making a couple thousand dollars extra per week - now there's a thought! I liked how many problems that would solve at home, and relieve pressure. And the idea of being paid for sex, no matter how tawdry the connotations, was always a little bit of a naughty turn-on for me.

Thinking about how my husband was gone so much of the time, leaving me home alone for a week at a time. And honestly, I wasn't getting nearly enough sex! I had a far more active sexual relationship with my vibrator than with my husband, and that's not what a girl wants at all.

On the other hand, I never thought of myself as a prostitute. I'd always thought of 'hookers' walking street corners in shabby, slutty clothes. But Caroline had talked of evening gowns, galas, Champaign, and five-star hotels. So maybe being an 'escort' was not the same as being a 'prostitute', exactly.

I stewed on this subject for weeks. And in the end, one night when I was feeling very horny and my husband was out of town, as usual, I called her.

"Caroline, this is Katie," I said.

"Hi, Kate, let me go to the other room away from the TV..." She put me on hold and then picked up another phone in a quiet part of the house. "Hey, what's going on?" she said.

I almost lost my courage, but I heard myself whisper, "I want to talk about...ah...that job opportunity we discussed a few weeks ago at lunch."

"Well, it's about time," she giggled, "I wondered if you were ever going to make the call."

That was kind of embarrassing. But I forged ahead. "I've been thinking about the money, and the kind of clientele you described, and maybe...I'm thinking about exploring the idea a little further."

There, that didn't sound so bad.

Caroline said, "You won't regret it, Kate, just let me have Robert call you. He's my manager, and a very sweet and understanding guy. I know you'll like him and you'll like what he has to say. I certainly did, and I've never regretted it."

We chatted for a while longer about other things, and then hung up. I was almost shaking with fear, excitement, dread, horniness, worry, and I had a 'falling' feeling in my tummy that was at the same time horrible and thrilling. I was a mess when the phone rang not five minutes later.


"Is this Katie?" A man's voice.

"Yes," I said cautiously.

"This is Robert Casey, I'm a friend of your friend Caroline. We work for the same company, and I am her manager."

"I see." Still cautious, me.

"Well, uh, Caroline suggested I give you a call and we could discuss things and maybe I could answer some questions for you." He had a nice voice and seemed so pleasant.

"Oh, yes, well, uh, perhaps you could tell me about your firm - that is of course, if you are hiring these days..."

"Certainly we are always looking for new associates, women who have that certain something, and Caroline described you as just that kind of wonderful Lady. We only engage women with life experience, grace, beauty, charm, - all the things that Caroline said you possess in abundance."

My, he was smooth too.

"Why, thank you for the compliments," I said, blushing alone in my own bedroom.

He paused a moment and let out a breath, "May I speak frankly, Katie?" he asked. So polite.

"By all means," I said.

"We at Cascade Engagements, that's our company name, work with very special women to serve our clientele by providing discrete feminine companionship. Our clients are discerning upscale gentlemen, fully vetted and background checked. Our first priority is the safety and well being of our ladies, so we refuse clients that do not measure up. We have no website nor do we advertise. We exist by word of mouth only in the highest levels of executives and entrepreneurs."

"That sounds impressive," I encouraged.

"Yes, thank you. All of our Companions are women over 40 years of age. We like to think that we provide true Courtesans - women of distinction, intelligence, education, experience - in addition to exquisite feminine charm and beauty. We serve a client list without peer in our industry by providing companionship that is without peer. Caroline says you could be a valuable addition to our company, and she hopes you will consider meeting me, and I feel the same."

Certainly, I had to admit I liked what I heard.

I asked, "What exactly, if I joined your firm, would my job duties be?"

He chuckled warmly, "Ah, a woman with a direct and clear mind. Just as expected, and I would respect nothing less, Katie. A typical assignment would have one of our Companions meeting one of our clients at a public setting - perhaps a restaurant or a club. Activities such as yachting, dinner, going to the theater, dancing, walking on the beach, attending a formal event, or just a casual luncheon at a bistro, or twenty-dollar cocktails in the bar of a five-star hotel - there are so many ways to start your time with the client."

"Hmm, sounds nice," I said, "Tell me more."

"Perhaps after an afternoon or evening of any number of these sorts of activities, with plenty of time to talk and get to know one another, a couple might retire to a suite for a nightcap, or park the yacht in Avalon for a night, or who knows what? In any event, our clients book time with our Companions. They are successful, busy, stress-out men with a lot on their minds. They ask us to provide for them a scintillating, beautiful, intelligent woman with whom they can spend time to relax and unwind amid their busy schedule. When evening comes and the booked time is over, it is completely up to you whether you kiss your client goodnight, or choose to stay with him a while longer..."

"I see," I said, knowingly.

"And our clients are very big tippers, particularly when a lady chooses to grace them with her presence after hours." He was silent after that, waiting for my response.

"What are the rates you charge, and my salary situation, should I join your firm?"

"Very simply, our fees are one thousand dollars per hour. The company keeps 40%, so our Companions receive six hundred dollars per hour for their time. When it comes to tipping, our company is in no way involved, in other words, what you do or don't do on your own time after the booked hours is none of our concern."

His voice took on a more secret, intimate quality. "Just so you know, I've heard rumors of various sorts of tips. Sometimes, I've heard of numbers between five hundred and fifteen hundred, but these are only rumors and I have no way of substantiating such claims. Perhaps Caroline could tell you more about that because we, at Cascade Engagements have no involvement with either our associates or our clients past the hours booked directly through us for companionship services only."

"Wow," I said, giggling, "you sound like a lawyer."

"Yes, actually I am."

"Alright then," I said, "Would there be a good time for me to come in for an interview?"

"How about tomorrow for lunch? I could meet you at the Ritz Carlton, and lunch is on me, of course."

"That sounds lovely, how about one in the afternoon?"

"I'll arrange it," he said, and then he continued. "One last thing, and I hate to bring it up, but it is an important part of the business. Please forgive me for asking, but how is your wardrobe?"

Ooh, that hit below the belt. And it certainly made sense, given the clientele and cost of the services...

I said, "It could use some work." Sad, but true.

"Not a problem, we'll work on that after we meet, if you are still interested in moving forward. Just start thinking about things like Gucci, Prada, and Jimmy Choo."

"Sounds nice," I said, "See you tomorrow."

"Ciao, Bella," he said and then he rang off.

I could hardly sleep that night, thinking about wearing really great clothes in really great places and making really great money. And maybe, just maybe, having some exciting sex with men I'd only just met...

The next morning, I called in sick at the hospital and spent the morning working on the bags under my eyes and putting together my very best 'lunch at the Ritz' outfit. I wore a floral wrap-around dress, and my best white pumps and matching clutch, pearl necklace and earrings, sheer hose.

My heart was in my throat when I gave my car to the valet and walked into the Ritz Carlton, headed for the sunroom where elegant lunches were served both inside and out on the patio.

I stepped up to the Maître 'd and a very handsome young man with short black hair and startling blue eyes appeared at my side. He couldn't have been over 30, but he probably was.

"Katie?" he enquired.

"Yes," I smiled, "You must be Robert."

He took my hand and gave a chaste kiss lightly on my cheek. "Guilty," he said.

We were seated on the patio, overlooking the ocean. We chatted for a long time over salad and a light salmon with toast. During the conversation, he carefully got information on my educational background, travel and arts experience, marital and family status, and I'm sure he got a good idea of my personality as well. He was quite skilled at pleasurable interrogation.

At the end of our meal, he invited me to walk with him in the gardens and have a glass of wine. As we walked, he asked me the questions I had really dreaded, but knew were coming.

"Katie, without being thought rude, there are a few things I need to ask you. I hope you do not feel offended in any way..."

"Ok, go ahead, I think I know what you need to ask anyway." I took a good slug of the wine in preparation.

"Suppose you were at the end of a wonderful evening of dinner and dancing. Your client was a true gentleman, a delightful conversationalist, and admirable in many ways. He has treated you like a lady all evening, and now your time together is drawing to a close. Suppose he asked you politely if you would be so kind as to accompany him up to his suite, and he hinted that he'd like to get to know you better, and spend some time alone so that you two could be more...intimate. Do you think you might, if you liked him, say 'yes'?"

We had stopped under a gazebo to escape the heat of the afternoon sun. Birds were chirping in the vines that grew over the white lattice work. I downed the rest of my wine in one gulp.

I looked into Roberts pretty blue eyes as I said, "If the scenario you described was true, and the man wasn't completely unattractive...then, I might be willing to accompany a gentleman to his suite and be alone with him, more intimately, on my own time."

He smiled, "Very well said indeed, Katie. I think you would be a wonderful addition to our company as our newest associate. May I call you before this weekend and offer you an opportunity to provide companionship to one of our clients?"

I smiled, "Yes you may, Robert."

He reached into his pocket and handed me a small but thick envelope. "You look very nice today, but you will need many more outfits for evening occasions just as beautiful. May I offer you this advance against future earnings to help with your wardrobe enhancements?"

Such a sweetheart, this guy. "Why, thank you Robert, I will make a bee-line to the Plaza and see to it immediately."

"That's wonderful," he said, offering me his arm as we strolled back toward the hotel, and to the valet to collect our cars.

As my car was brought up, Robert said, "I'll call you tonight, Katie. I think I have an outstanding client who would be very pleased to have your company tomorrow night. Shall I tell him you're free?"

I swallowed hard. This was moving really fast. I took a deep breath. "Please let him know I'd be delighted," I said.

"Excellent," said the ever elegant Robert. "Please expect my call with details this evening."

"Talk to you soon," I said, and I drove off into the afternoon sun.

When I parked at the Plaza, I opened the envelope and found five thousand dollars in cash. I just about fell out of the car. I hit the upscale mall hard and walked out of there with some pretty hot evening gowns, cocktail dresses, a couple casual dresses, a boatload of shoes, and some very fine lingerie.

When I was finished, I'd gone through Robert's loan of five grand and added a grand of my own to it. I left some very pleased saleswomen in my wake, I can tell you. Biggest Thursday they'd ever had, I'm sure.

I guessed I would really have to start making some money to get out of all this debt!

When I got home, it was just finished unloading my piles of booty from the car onto my bed when my cell phone rang. It was Robert.

"Hi, Katie," he said cheerfully, "Did you have a good time shopping?"

"Absolutely. Those poor stores are mere skeletons of their former selves."

He chuckled. "Great. So... Let me tell you about tomorrow night. The Client's name is Brett Calloway. He's thirty-four years old, 5'11", 180lbs, blonde/blue. He owns one of those internet businesses, some kind of real-estate valuation company or something. He's a great guy, he's single, and we've known him for over three years. How does that sound so far?"

It was much better than I expected, though I was a little taken aback by his young age. "He sounds great, but I'm almost thirteen years older than him. That's kind of scary."

Robert said, "Don't worry at all about that. Most of our clients are in their thirties. Brett, like most of our clients, enjoys the company of real women - he just adores a woman in full blossom. None of those young, immature tarts for this guy. He's in town for the weekend to see customers and make big deals. He arrives to John Wayne at four in the afternoon and will be at the Ritz by five-thirty. He would like to take you to dinner at seven o'clock in the Dining Room - so think about a Cocktail dress he might like."

I said, "Wow, ok, here we go I guess." Robert's younger age was a bit of a surprise, but I was shocked to hear that most of his clients would be younger than me. Much younger...

"Don't worry," Robert said with real concern in his voice, "You're going to do great. He's a great guy, you're a fabulous woman - just be yourself and you'll captivate him. I'm very confident, you'll be great. Just relax and let him take the lead and you have a great time! He'll have on a dark blue suit and a red tie with the insignia of Yale University on it. He'll keep a stool next to him open at the bar so you can find him there. Sound good?."

"Yes, sir," I said, "I'll do my best. I'll try not to screw up my first date."

Robert laughed, "You'll be fine. Brett is a sweetheart, you'll see. His booking is from seven to ten, so that's three hours. After ten, well that's up to you two. Just make sure you have fun!"

"Ok, seven to ten it is," I said, "I'll try not to let you down."

We said our goodbyes and rang off.

I immediately called my husband, Jeff. He was in Cleveland I think. I chatted with him a while and then said I'd be going to the Improv with the girls the next night, and it'll be loud, and there will be drinking, and I'll probably not hear my cell if he calls. He told me he was sorry he wasn't around much, and said I had his permission to be a wild girl and have loads of fun because I deserved it.

I smiled because I loved my husband, and he was a sweetheart. I told him I'd do just that.

The next day I got home early from work. I finished bathing and shaving in the tub at about four thirty that afternoon. I had hemmed and hawed over whether or not to go for it and completely shave all of my pubic hair. I had always kept myself well groomed and trimmed, but all the articles in Cosmo and Redbook said that men, especially young men, expected a girl to be pretty bare down there - the more bare, the better.

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byKatieBreckenridge© 130 comments/ 241729 views/ 154 favorites

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