Perfect Ten

by Nikki Worrell

  “Ah God, that feels incredible. Of course, it would be better if it was your tongue.” She sat down in a chair facing me and put her feet on the coffee table, spreading herself wide for my viewing pleasure.

  My mouth went dry at the sight, and I didn’t move a muscle. I tried. Really! Okay, not really. Fuck, she was beautiful. So swollen and wet. I already knew how she tasted, and truth be told, I really wanted to worship that tiny pebbled bud in the middle of all those wet folds. I felt my arms move and knew I was seconds away from getting up and doing exactly that. I’ve told you how much I love pussy, right? But then I remembered—I am not a prostitute! Fully under control (so I told myself), I watched as she took an extra-large dildo and inserted it into her pink, slick opening. Fuck, that’s hot.

  “Sophia…” My voice cracked. I cleared my throat and tried again. “Sophia, I’m going to go.” As soon as my body caught up with my brain, I was out of there. Any second now.

  She jumped up, letting the dildo drop to the floor, and walked over to straddle me on the couch, leaving a wet mark on my pants where her juices soaked into them. “Not yet, Joe.” She pressed herself down onto my aching dick. I was so fucking hard. I wanted to come right there in my pants. If she kept riding me like that, I was pretty sure I was going to do just that. I grabbed her hips to push her off me.

  “Sophia.”

  “God, shut up, I’m so close.”

  Jesus. This chick was going to come rubbing herself against my dick. Through my pants! Fuck that. I quickly unzipped my pants, whipped myself out, and threw her onto her back. Even though I had anger in my voice, I gave in. “Condom!”

  She reached over into the coffee table drawer and pulled one out. Maybe she had them all over the house. Who cared? I ripped it open with my teeth and put it on. She had taken the opportunity to get on her knees with her ass up in the air. I didn’t need any further prodding.

  “Jesus, Sophia.” I entered her with one long, hard thrust. I tried to move slowly, but she liked it rough.

  “Pull my hair, Joe—hard.”

  I grabbed a fistful of her hair as my dick pounded inside her nice, hot pussy. Her dirty talk really turned me on. I yanked on her hair hard, and she loved it.

  “Slap my ass.”

  I raised my hand and pulled her head back to look me in the eye. I wanted to make sure I understood what she said.

  “That’s it, slap me!”

  I did. Over and over again until she came screaming my name. I flipped her over onto her back and continued to ram into her as hard and as deep as I could go. By now, I knew how she wanted it.

  I was banging her so hard, she was sliding on the carpet. I felt bad for a second about that. She had to be getting rug burns on her back. But hey—she liked it rough, right? I pounded into her until I was seeing stars from trying to hold off my orgasm. At the last second, just as I started to come, I pulled out. When I tore off the condom, a bit of my juice went flying with it, perilously close to her spread pussy. I quickly fisted my dick and squirted the bulk of my load all over her lovely, puckered tits. I sat there in awe as I watched her lick it off. She truly was one nasty, dirty slut. I have to say, though—I wasn’t quite as unhappy about having to be with her again.

  Stan was in his office when I stopped by Thursday evening to grab the files of my scheduled dates for the weekend. One business dinner and the mystery file.

  “How was slutty Sophia?”

  I smiled at him and shook my head. “You know I never date and tell.” I was sworn to secrecy until the end of each month. The guys at Perfect Ten had a monthly pool betting on how many girls I’d banged during the month. Apparently, not everyone enjoyed their job as much as I did. I really can’t help it. Before each date, I give myself the “I’m not a prostitute” speech. I’d say it works only five to ten percent of the time—if that. Sometimes I wonder if maybe I’m addicted to sex.

  “Aw, come on. Off the record, I promise.” Stan stood there and crossed his heart with his index finger.

  “Yeah, right. You’re the least trustworthy guy here.”

  “That hurts, Joe.” Stan had been known to cheat by calling up my dates under the pretense of making sure they were satisfied with my service. He could pretty much guess if I had had sex with them by how they rated me.

  “Sure. Okay, give me the lowdown on Saturday’s honey.”

  “You don’t sound like you’re looking forward to it. Getting too old to perform nightly?”

  Honestly, I was beginning to wonder about that myself. Not the age part—or the actual sex part, but the part where it’s a different woman every night. I can tell myself that I’m not a man-whore as much as I want to, but the truth is, I’m a rich man after only six years in the business. Word got around about how much I love to worship pussy, and I was requested more and more. I would have to say, up to this point I’ve probably fucked ninety percent of my dates. Even though I still love sex as much as I always have, I’m starting to wonder if there’s maybe something more for me out there.

  “Too old? Nah. I guess I’m just in a rut.” I leaned over and grabbed the folder.

  “Wait!” Stan jumped up and grabbed it back.

  “What the hell?”

  “I just want to give you a heads-up. Remember, this was originally the new kid Brian’s date.” Stan looked at me expectantly, like she being Brian’s date explained the whole thing.

  “And?”

  “Well, you know the new kids get the, um, less desirable dates.”

  “She can’t be worse than Sophia. What gives, Stan?”

  “I think we should just do this like ripping a bandage off. She’s out in the waiting room. I’m going to go bring her in so the two of you can meet.”

  “Okay.” It wasn’t unusual for us to meet our dates before we took them wherever they needed to go. Some women had a very specific idea of what they wanted their date to look like and what kind of personality would work for them. There were many times when I talked with a potential client for a while, and we mutually agreed she’d be better off with someone else. No big deal.

  Stan walked out and left me standing there in a funk. I was getting concerned with his behavior. What the hell was going to walk through that door?

  I didn’t have long to wait. Stan came back about a minute later with an extraordinarily curvy, cute blonde on his arm. She looked a little frumpy in her plain gray skirt and matching high-collared blouse; her curly hair was a bit out of control, but aside from that, she was adorable. To tell you the truth, at my first glimpse of her, I could swear my heart beat double time. It was weird. Something went through me that I can’t explain. It was a shiver. Well, not a shiver exactly—more like a shock wave. All I knew for sure was that I wanted her. I felt like wrapping my arms around her and taking her home with me. Pretty intense, huh? Yeah, tell me about it.

  When she opened her mouth, any hope of that happening died. She took one look at me with her beautiful blue eyes opened wide, shook her head, and said, “Oh no. Absolutely not.”

  Chapter 5

  Faith Graham

  I have great friends but a not so great family. I love my family, but they tend to be condescending toward me, even when they don’t mean to be. At least I like to fool myself into believing they don’t mean to be.

  Let me start off by telling you about my physical appearance, because that seems to be where my family’s animosity rests, and, incidentally, where my insecurities lie.

  I’m five-foot-six, have slightly wavy strawberry-blonde hair that I keep long so I can hide behind it—you know, for that extra layer of security—blue eyes, and I’m a size sixteen. I’ve fought my weight my entire life. Sometimes, when I write everything down and count my calories, I can lose ten pounds or so, but honestly, I’m almost afraid to try anymore, because when the pounds come back—and they always do—they bring friends.

  At twenty-eight years old, I’ve only had two serious boyfriends. Neither one of them was long-term, but at least I’m not a vir
gin, I guess. Sex has never been very pleasant for me, but I’m hoping that’s because neither one of my boyfriends knew what he was doing. I’ve casually dated off and on, but none of my dates were anything to write home about.

  My first experience with sex was a total disaster, which was a real shame, because even though I don’t have a healthy body image, I have a very healthy and imaginative mind. My fantasies sometimes consume me, even in the middle of the day.

  So, here it is. His name was Mitch, and he was a senior in high school. I was a junior, and I thought it was so cool that an older guy was interested in me. Of course, I found out later, he just wanted to get in my pants.

  We had been on two dates. The first was to one of the only drive-in movie theaters left in our area. I have no idea what movie was playing since we spent the hours making out in his car. That should have been clue number one for me, but I really didn’t have any sexual experience then. Kissing him was like—God, I don’t even know. It was wet and messy. Kind of gross. Don’t get me wrong, I love some tongue action, but not all over my face!

  The second date wasn’t even a date. He talked me into hanging out under the bleachers with some of his friends. Even though he wasn’t on the football team, a bunch of his buddies were. So that made him cool enough for me to brag about, but not so cool that he couldn’t date a junior. The hierarchy of high school students is an important part of the teenage years.

  “Look at you two getting all cozy together. You done the deed yet?” Johnny, the quarterback, was an ass. I’d always known it, but because he was the most popular kid in school, I laughed, just as he expected me to do.

  Mitch lowered the arm he had around my back to encircle my ribs, brushing his fingers just under my breasts. “Maybe after you guys get out of here, I’ll have a better answer to that.”

  I didn’t feel any tingles or excitement, just dread. I knew what was coming, and honestly, I just wanted to get it out of the way, so I’d already made up my mind to do it.

  When the guys left, it was already getting dark. Mitch took his jacket off and laid it on the ground for me. Then he went straight to his pants and unzipped them, pulling out a semi-hard cock. “Are you ready for this?”

  He didn’t wait for my answer. He just lowered me to the ground, licking at my lips again. As soon he had my panties off and a condom on, he shoved himself into me, not even giving me a warning.

  Holy shit! That so didn’t feel good. When he broke through my virginity, I swear I saw stars. And then he was grunting and slamming himself into me.

  “Aw, fuck. It’s so good.”

  I did not agree, but I think I let out a moan just so that he would be done quicker.

  “Yes. I’m gonna come, Kristy!”

  And, no, my name was never Kristy. I put my hands on his chest to stop him. That was it! He didn’t even know my name? “Hey! My name’s Faith.”

  “Uh-huh.” He was panting then, and in two more hard thrusts, he groaned loudly in my ear and fell on top of me.

  “Sorry about that, Faith. Kristy was my old girlfriend. I guess I forgot for a second. You were great, though.”

  “Whatever. Get up. I need to get home.”

  The following day, he acted as if he didn’t even know me. And that was how I lost my virginity.

  Now, I’ll get back to my family. Last week, while I was chatting with my girlfriends at our book club, I told them about Sassy’s wedding. Sassy’s my twenty-four-year-old sister who’s pregnant with her forty-year-old boss’s child. She’s his secretary. Can you say cliché?

  “Well, it’s official. I’m the last unmarried Graham girl. Sassy’s getting married.”

  My friend Gracie choked on her margarita. “What? Are you serious?”

  Chloe pounded on her back while making her own exclamation. “Sassy? How on earth did that airhead rope someone into marrying her? No offense. Who’s she marrying anyway?”

  My sister is an airhead, but she’s mostly harmless. Chloe has never liked her. “Don’t be mean. She’s marrying Matt Silver. You know—the owner of Silver Industries?” At their incredulous stares, I informed them of my sister’s condition. “Yeah, well, she’s pregnant. It’s the old ‘boss slept with the secretary’ story. At least he’s not married, right? And, of course, they’re madly in love.”

  “Wow,” Gracie said. “That’s a shocker. When’s the wedding?”

  I laughed. I couldn’t help myself. Leave it to my family to stir things up and leave a whirlwind in their wake. “Next weekend. They’ve already booked the Beverly Hills Hotel. Do you believe it? Throw enough money around, and you can buy the impossible.”

  “Yeah, but even with the money, how did they get into the Hills without two-years’ notice? It’s not possible!”

  “Easy. One of their ballrooms has been undergoing renovation and won’t be ready until next month. But when Matt gave them an obscene amount of money to get it ready in two weeks, they concurred.” I personally think it’s disgusting the way the rich throw their money around. My family has money, and they do it too. I guess I’m the odd one out.

  Susie, who I’d known since we met in home-economics class at Beverly Hills High, piped up with perhaps the most important question of the night. “Who are you taking? I know how much you hate to be around your sisters. You need a fan-fucking-tastic date on your arm to parade around.”

  This was an age-old argument that I didn’t feel like having but saw no way around it. “I’m not taking anyone.” I held up my hand to stop them from speaking. “Look, I know you guys love me, and I love you all to death, but let’s face it—I’m just not date material right now.”

  As usual, my remark made Gracie mad. She’d been my staunchest supporter ever since she’d stood up for me in middle school when the mean girls called me fat. She even shared half her lunch with me after seeing the celery sticks and wheat crackers that my mom packed for me every day. “That’s bullshit, Faith!” She slammed her book down as she let out a big gust of air. “I really don’t get you. You’re gorgeous! Jesus, look in the mirror sometime, won’t you?”

  I couldn’t help the smile that tugged at my lips. I got more love and support from these three girls than I would ever get from my blood relatives. “Thanks, Gracie, but just the same, I’m not taking a date.”

  “You know…”

  It scared me when Gracie did that. She got this look in her eyes like she’d just found the cure for cancer. “What?”

  “My sister had this big banquet she had to go to for her firm the other night. The senior partner didn’t want her going alone. He wanted to show her as a normal, everyday woman instead of a powerhouse attorney. Keith was out of the country doing God knows what in Iraq, so she hired an escort.”

  I was absolutely not going to do that. “She cheated on Keith? Oh my God, Gracie. That’s horrible! I don’t believe it.” I was shocked. An escort? Aren’t they just one step away from male prostitutes? Who did that?

  “She did not cheat on her husband! She just hired an escort to take her to the dinner. And that’s what you’re going to do.”

  “Oh, no way. I’m not hiring some pretty boy to take me to my sister’s wedding. They’ll see through that right away. Those escort guys are hot. No hot guy is going to want this.” I indicated my disgusting body, waving my arms around. “Who would believe that? And besides, he’ll probably think I’m hard up for sex and want him to be my stud for the night!”

  Susie was shaking her head at me. I knew she had more to say on the subject too, bless her.

  “Oh, he would not. He might want a crack at you, though. Faith, I really wish you could see what we do, but if you can’t, they have all kinds of guys at those escort services. You can get an average Joe to take you if that’s what you really want. But the best part is that they’re professionals. They know how to act at all kinds of functions. I think it’s a great idea.”

  “I don’t know.” I guessed it could work, but the idea scared me to death! I don’t do well with guys wh
o I do know, let alone a guy I’ve never met before. On the other hand, did I really want to go to my sister’s wedding alone? “I’ll think about it.”

  The next day, as I was sitting at my desk running expense reports, my cell phone rang. It was a call from Perfect Ten escort service informing me that my date had a family emergency and Joe Starling would be taking his place. I wasn’t exactly sure what they were talking about, but I got a bad feeling in the pit of my stomach.

  “I think you have the wrong number. I didn’t call for an escort.”

  I could hear some paper shuffling going on before the man on the other end of the line spoke again.

  “You are Faith Graham? I have the paperwork in front of me. It says black-tie wedding. He’s to pick you up at four o’clock on Saturday the fourth in Santa Monica.”

  “Well, I do have a wedding then, but I didn’t …”

  “Oh, I see the problem here, miss. It looks like a Grace Davis was the one who made the appointment, and I called the wrong number. She gave us your number also, in case Joe should need to get hold of you the day of the event. Should I call her and coordinate?”

  “What? I’ll kill her! No. I’m the one who has the wedding to go to, and I told her I didn’t want to take a date, and certainly not from an escort service.”

  “Well, miss. You may want to reconsider. Joe Starling is our number one escort. You’re very lucky he’s available to fill in for Brian. Sometimes he has a two-month waiting period, he’s so busy. We’ll only charge you Brian’s rate, of course.”

  Oh my God. This was ridiculous. I could not believe Gracie had set this up without my approval. Although…

  I asked him to hold while I thought it through. Really thought it through. It might be nice not to have to endure the sneers from my sisters, not to mention my mother, that I would surely receive if I showed up without a date. Maybe I should. I mean, what did I really have to lose?