The Girlfriend Experience Ch. 33

Chapter Thirty-Three

"Wow."

"No kidding."

"Not at all what I expected."

"Oh, really? That's totally what I expected."

Dave laughed at Lindsay. "I call bullshit."

"Seriously?"

"I mean, wow."

"Kayleigh can handle all the negotiating." Having been swept off her feet a moment ago, Christina curled into Dave's embrace like a child as he took her to the bed and nestled her onto his lap. Once her face had shot up from where she snuggled against his chest, and she looked at him with those innocent, Bambi-brown eyes, Christina surprised Dave, jamming her tongue into his mouth.

Having switched to Lindsay's bedroom from the parlor, Dave had been hoping to give Christina a sweet kiss (or five) before discussing financials. Not this sinful assault on every inch of his mouth, but when he tried to break away, blindsided, he found his limbs doing just the opposite. He tangled his hand in thick hair that tumbled in such rich autumnal hues and pulled Christina's head back so he could feast at the precise angle he desired.

Now, in the aftermath, the young turnout's breath was heaving as she stared at him, her skin rosy and vibrant. "You and Kayleigh discuss the money," she reiterated, the feather's brush of her voice now dialed to just above a whisper. "I just want to kiss you some more."

"Holy shit." Dave's body had a visceral reaction as Christina's lips found his neck, his ear, and circled back to his mouth again. Jesus, this felt divine, but he wanted more. Dave wanted things he couldn't even name and he wanted them now. Their pace had slowed considerably from the initial kiss, but that was okay. Soon, a wildfire would erupt. Dave knew it wouldn't be any other way.

"I like you, sir. Thank you for wanting to be with me." Christina's tongue slicked across his cheek, his chin. "I promise I won't disappoint you."

A gentle hand caressed up and down Dave's left arm - and it didn't belong to Christina - thus, coaxing him out of his stupor. Once he snapped his gaze in that direction, Lindsay's voice came, soft and amused as she said, "You have a three-thousand-dollar budget today, right?"

Ugh. Couldn't they skip this part? Or worry about it later? "Yeah, three grand." He blinked with the annoyance of a young boy, such a stark contrast to his confident, manly presence. "What will that get me?"

"Well, you know prices are higher now than they were before COVID."

He sputtered a laugh. "Yeah, I noticed with the eighteen hundred you charged me yesterday for the two-hour GFE." His heart jerked against its tethers as Christina curled her long, supple fingers around his biceps as if to anchor herself to him. "Last year, I paid fourteen." Dave's hungry gaze devoured Christina. "God, baby, you feel so good." They were fully clothed, yet Dave felt a connection with this little minx that already rivaled the one with Lindsay.

"Kiss me again, sir. Please."

"There are multipliers since this is a two-girl party." Lindsay's new standard rate for a threesome was $2,200 an hour, but she wanted to cut Dave a deal. He was her favorite monger, by far and away, and they would not see each other again until December. "We can do an hour and forty-five minutes for three-K, but no more."

Christina threaded her fingers through Dave's hair as she slanted her mouth, kissing down his neck as she went. "Please say yes, sir."

"Yes, yes, fuck yes, that's fine." The forty-seven-year-old retrieved a bank envelope from his cargo shorts as a primal surge of desire ricocheted through him. He needed to touch this teenage beauty queen. Skin to skin. His palms slid to her hips as his fingers dipped beneath the hem of her minidress.

She was fresh meat, swollen. Needful. When Dave's hand slid underneath the gusset of Christina's panties, the first touch of his fingers nearly did her in. Her tongue, her lips, everything stilled for a moment from the sheer pleasure of it. She didn't stop him - nor did she want to - and once collecting her bearings, she kissed him again, persuasive, chaotic, as he thrust two fingers inside her in perfect tandem with his tongue. He took over. He had to. Christina was having difficulty breathing, much less leading their passionate kiss.

"Dave ... we should wait for Kay ... wait for ... to come back. ..." Christina's protests were weak and came through choppy breaths.

"Spread your legs," he commanded as his fingers continued their erotic path to her core. Christina gave an agreeing plunge of the chin, only to throw her head back once Dave took his liberties. "Don't worry about Kayleigh. She'll be back from the booking office any second now, and both of us are going to enjoy you together." Two fingers teased her clitoris. "You're so wet."

"And you're so hard." A heated, anxious sigh, followed by Christina tilting her hips back, pressing her ass into his erection, and almost causing him to come in his shorts.

Thank goodness Colt no longer required his working ladies to perform the "dick check" prior to a party. Dave considered it an unsettling, antiquated method, and was elated yesterday when Lindsay informed him it was no longer mandatory. If it were, these past few moments with Christina would've never happened.

Dick checks would be done by choice by each individual lady from this point forward, Lindsay told him. She opted to forego the inspection both yesterday and today, obviously, having been with Dave in the past and trusting he was clean. Still, with her wealth of experience, Lindsay wouldn't let anything slip by. "I know how to do a dick check without you realizing I'm even doing it."

"Oh God, Dave. I'm gonna ... I'm gonna -"

"I know." Two fingers continued to stab in and out of Christina's folds while Dave's thumb swirled in a circular motion upon her clitoris, spreading the wetness, and soon her legs began to shake. Meanwhile, Dave's opposite hand grazed Christina's torso, her rib cage, and then cupped her breast and found a hardened nipple against his palm.

After squeezing the firm mound of flesh just once, Dave lifted that hand and presented his index and middle finger to Christina's mouth. "Suck," he demanded, and after she gave another little mewl, her soft, wet tongue was gliding along his thick digits. He took the initiative yet again, pumping those fingers in and out, mimicking his other hand and its movement as it throttled her pussy.

The double penetration, though certainly not in the traditional sense, had Christina coming apart in his lap. Dave felt her thighs flex, and her orgasm building as she clawed at his shoulders. He found her G-spot and smashed his mouth to hers to finish the job.

Her hips bucked as she cried out his name.

She writhed and panted, another breathy, needy plea sailing from her lips and as she floated down from the euphoric high, Dave took her right back up again.

"OhmiGod!" she screamed as another climax claimed her. Her head thrashed, hair flailed, nails carved moons into his skin and as Dave eased his frenetic efforts, Christina cried out one final time before falling limp to the sheets.

"What did you do to me?" Her voice was a raspy hush before he took her in a slow, seductive kiss. She lay perfectly still, other than the rise and fall of her breasts. Dave's mouth deviated, exploring the swath of skin exposed by an open neckline.

Her sweet, cupid lips curled up at the edges in a sensual smile. "Oh God, Dave. I ... I never came so hard."

A deep groan rumbled through his chest. "Do you have any idea how sexy you are, Piper? Everything you do is ..." Dave couldn't resist, groping Christina's breasts through the fabric of her minidress and again claiming her cherry-red lips in a kiss. Then another. "I could do this all day." And a third for good measure. "I want to do this all day."

Dave turned tender now, his body a warm, soothing blanket above her. He was propped up on an elbow, still fully clothed, Christina realized, and she was drenched in a pool of sweat, wearing a minidress rolled up to her abdomen and had no idea where her panties were. A blush tickled up the back of her neck.

"Can we do that again?"

"Only if I can join too," Lindsay said, biting her lip, as she sauntered over to the bed in her snug-fitting blouse, brown micro-miniskirt, and skyscraper heels. "But first, we need to get you out of that dress."

After switching her focus to Dave, the mattress lowered as Lindsay placed a knee on it and settled onto his lap. "Did you forget about me, baby?" She glided her hands over his shoulders, chest, and abdomen, all the way down to grip his cock through his shorts with both hands. "Because I didn't forget you." Lindsay moved in for a deep, thorough kiss of her own. Being enveloped by her feminity while she loved his mouth was so sumptuous that a desperate moan slipped from Dave's lungs into hers. She drew back, and Dave gasped - not for air, but for her to return to him.

"Colt says you get an additional fifteen minutes with us for free because you're such a great guy. That means this is a two-hour GFE now, not an hour and forty-five minutes. No extra charge." Lindsay lowered her mouth to Dave's neck, nipping at him with her teeth, insistent yet tender. "Colt doesn't give out freebies often, you know, so you should feel special." She tickled her tongue across his earlobe. "Of course, maybe I ... I don't know ... suggested ... to him that you be comped the fifteen minutes?"

"Kayleigh." Her name came out in one long, hot breath.

"May I?" Smiling at Dave, she latched onto Christina's wrist and motioned toward her.

"Yes. Please. By all means."

"How's my little prodigy doing?" Lindsay slithered from Dave's lap and curled next to Christina, wrapping both arms around her and stroking a finger across her cheek. "My little hoe baby? Oh, honey, you look all flushed and bothered. Did Dave make you come?"

"Twice." Strong puffs of air still widened her nostrils.

Lindsay deposited a soft kiss on her cheek. "Do you want to come again?"

"Yes. God, yes!"

She was already tugging at the bodice of Christina's dress. "First, we need to get you out of this. Pronto."

* * *

Colt removed his earpiece and sent an indifferent glance about the parlor. It was seven-thirty in the morning and thanks to Dominic and his insistence on spending two full days with Mariko, Colt was pulling an all-nighter. I'm not used to these hours like I once was. He knew several of the ladies were battling exhaustion already, so felt it unwise to verbally complain about his own situation. I'm not flat on my back and getting constantly plowed like they are. Even the other turnout who was hired, Mercedes, had three parties with walk-up customers yesterday. And I have two guys wanting to book Piper for later today.

"Time to a take a break," he said out loud, putting the earpiece into its charging port. The house wouldn't officially open for another two-and-a-half hours. Mariko and Dominic were fast asleep, and Colt had zero worries that Dave would do a single thing to harm Lindsay and/or Christina. I can take ten or fifteen minutes. He stood from the counter and stretched his stiff limbs. Lindsay will give me a full report on Piper and her performance afterward. He didn't need to eavesdrop on every single second. As it is, so far, so good.

Headed into the reopening, Colt feared that he may harbor feelings of jealousy and resentment toward any monger who partied with Lindsay. Love and admiration were powerful emotions, and God only knows how he struggled when Pamela entertained her own clients these past couple of years. I'm cool with Lindsay having sex with others. It doesn't bother me like it once did. That's because although Colt still thought the world of her, the throuple - him, Lindsay, and Pamela - came to an end last summer.

Neither he nor Pamela were romantically linked to Lindsay anymore.

There was no ill will. No front page headlines. No spat that led to the destruction of their three-way dreams.

It was simply Lindsay realizing that she wanted to go a different route. She's not ready to settle down yet.

Lindsay was still close with them, still cared about them. Hell, I've made her my top assistant here in the house. Indeed, she had slid into Pamela's old role, and the transition went off without a hitch. Lindsay always wanted to learn how the business ran and do her part to help in any way she could. Veteran girls like Kenzie and Nicolette respected her, listened to her. I like it that she won't take shit from anyone anymore. Christina and Mercedes saw her as their boss, too, just as they did Colt and Jim. I can't be any happier with the way she's handled herself this week.

If everything goes according to plan, hopefully we can sell our ownership to Lindsay and Jim by the end of the year. Colt's head lowered and he watched his feet step one after the other as he lumbered down the left corridor, his hands clasped behind his back. Just gotta get city hall to believe in her first.

"Pamela, sweetheart?" The door to their private office and converted bedroom creaked open and Colt peered in. "Are you awake yet?"

"Yeah, baby. Just resting."

In Colt's mind, it was difficult to comprehend that his wife could up her standard for beauty more than she already had, but then she became pregnant in November 2020, and now all bets were off. A mere thirteen weeks from her expected due date of August 1, 2021 (it's a boy!), Pamela had embraced the idea with open arms. To Colt, the raging hormones and added weight gain combined to radiate a unique blend of beauty for the thirty-three-year-old. This new journey had proven to be a truly wondrous time, and Colt and Pamela (and Lindsay, too, for that matter) were celebrating every moment of it.

Oh, and was it mentioned that Colt was turned on by his pregnant wife? To the point of being totally and undeniably enthralled by Pamela turned on? With all of it adding up to his blood popping in his veins like boiling water turned on?

It didn't take long for him to realize that he had a fetish he wasn't even aware of previously. A sleeping giant had been awakened. And before long, as Pamela became more and more pregnant, Colt became more and more, well ... turned on.

Gone were the days of "heaux dresses" and stiletto heels, replaced by maternity clothing and warm, comfy slippers. Colt found himself mesmerized by Pamela's most subtle, inconspicuous movements - doing her best to keep her balance and not fall over as she raided the kitchen (again), or rubbing her belly and massaging the latest twinge of discomfort in her neck. Even more, he was floored by the strength and determination she'd displayed for the past six months, nurturing new life inside her.

His libido, his spirit, his very soul, it all felt incarcerated by the vision of this centerfold-like voluptuousness that he was forced to tiptoe around on eggshells at all times, fearful to rouse the hormonal beast within. Never mind the fact that in her current state, having sex with him was often the furthest thing from Pamela's mind, and with those wild and rampant mood swings that could strike at any given moment, she'd sometimes rather see him magically morph into a glazed strawberry doughnut than bed him.

But that was okay.

To him, a pregnant Pamela was God's greatest creation.

He took a seat on the bed and kissed her forehead. "Did you get a good night's sleep? How are you feeling? Is there anything you need from the kitchen or here in town?"

"Aside from the fact my back, my hips, shoulders, and pelvic bone are all in extreme pain, and I woke up seven or eight times throughout the night ..." She gave him a quote-unquote happy smile, "... yeah, I got a good night's rest."

Pamela and Colt were informed of Governor Sisolak's decision to allow the brothels to reopen before it became public and travelled here from Nevada last weekend to prepare the house and notify all their employees. Though Pamela could've chosen to return to her old profession as well - pregnant courtesans were rare, but a hot, in-demand commodity - the thought once never entered her mind.

Her priorities had changed.

"Can we go to Vegas when Jim gets here at nine-thirty, Colt?" Pamela winced, pressing the heel of her hand on the mattress to push herself upright. "There's a baby boutique in Summerlin that I want to check out."

"Of course, sweetie. Of course." Sleep be damned!

Pamela had opted to stay in the shadows since the house reopened, fearful a monger she knew would see her and want to book a party. The company line for anyone who asked was that Pamela had retired and moved on. Charlie Winters, from Detroit, broke down and sobbed like a toddler when Jim informed him on Wednesday evening that his ATF wouldn't be returning, ever, and pleaded to know where she had gone - and what she was up to.

"Can you get my medicine for me?" Every morning, Pamela took three prenatal supplements and an iron pill because being pregnant had caused her to become anemic. "I think they're over in the bathroom."

Pamela had deferred most of her in-house duties to Lindsay as well, knowing the experience would aid in cycling along her path to future ownership. Jim would have a stake, too, though a minor one. Pamela had done little, if anything, around the house this week, opting to binge on chocolates and relax her sore back. Knowing Lindsay sat in during Colt's forty-five-minute interview with Christina seemed surreal to Pamela, too, as three years prior, the roles were flipped, with her playing the proverbial good cop to Colt's bad cop during Lindsay's own interview.

"I'll make you an espresso too."

More than anything, the day Pamela and Colt would return to Baltimore - for good this time - could not come soon enough. They had already decided that their unborn son needed a sibling, if not two. However, transferring ownership of a Nevada brothel was a long, tedious ordeal, full of red tape. Sometimes, it took years. Worst of all, Pamela realized that the legislative members of Flagstone and its other powers that be - notably Sheriff Spaeth - would strip Lindsay's life and history down piece by piece before ever approving a sale.

Would their continued digging and investigations unearth the sugar daddy/sugar baby relationship Lindsay once had with Sammy, illegal as it was?

And punishable by jail time.

* * *

His hand atop her blonde head and moving in precise tandem with Lindsay as she bobbed up and down over his erection, Dave glanced around, and Christina saw him evaluating all the unique possibilities throughout the suite. "Piper, please go the lounger, there," he said, pointing.

Christina, next to Lindsay on her knees, turned to see the piece of furniture Dave meant: a convertible lounger that Lindsay told her was one of the most expensive pieces of sex furniture on the market, and for good reason. Billed as a "multifunctional, bondage-ready lounge" complete with twenty-eight cuff connector points, a chinrest, blindfold, removable pillows, and machine-washable material, it allowed one to raise and angle their body depending on what type of play they (or their partner) fancied.

Once Lindsay released her hand, Christina stood and dawdled through the suite, surveying all it offered: a sweetheart canopy bed, a plain blue dresser enhanced with gold hardware and topped with elegant décor like stacked books, flowers, and teddy bears; a mix of floral and gingham fabrics; interlocked ribbons placed flush to the pink walls, displaying nude modeling portraits of Lindsay, postcards, and other memorabilia; diverse accessories, a wood-trimmed fireplace; and the plush, yellow rug in front of which the lounger stood. A chandelier. Wicker chairs. A study desk that doubled as a makeup vanity. The wet, unmistakable sound of an accomplished blowjob. And a floor-to-ceiling mirror that showed a pretty girl, totally nude, her hair in disarray and lipstick smeared, drawing nearer to her destination.