Now, Aria stomped across the living room and into her kitchen to pour herself a glass of white wine snatched from the fridge. She tossed it back straightaway, panting a bit, and then poured another. As she sipped this one, drumming her fingernails against the granite countertop, she happened to glance over at the weekly reader lying on the breakfast bar. She had picked it up that morning on impulse when she had gone out to buy flowers for the apartment.
It was open to the very back, the “unmentionables” section. Casual encounters. Ads for brothels thinly-veiled as massage parlors. Blatant ads for prostitutes, many of whom were pictured in near-naked glory, their tits huge and fake, their hair big and blonde.
One ad in particular—a fairly large one—caught her attention. Aria picked up her wine glass and strolled over, plucking the paper up. This ad was for what looked like another massage parlor…until she got a good look at the person pictured in the full-color photo.
She found herself gazing down at the most beautiful man she had ever seen. Long dark hair, eyes like sharp blue gems. He had been photographed leaning forward on what looked like satin sheets, and his powerful upper body was gloriously bare. Dark, almost threatening tattoos covered both arms and part of his chest. Below the photo was printed: “Your Host, Gage.” Aria felt her breath catch in her throat.
The ad itself, advertising a business titled XXXposed, informed her that Gage was experienced in training women how to properly please men, including professionals such as exotic dancers and escorts, or women in relationships who wished to better pleasure those they were already with, or wished to be with (words like “discreet” accompanied this part of the ad). But the word that really caught her attention was “awakening”.
Awakening. He knows how to…I mean, he can…
She glanced back at the beautiful male image gazing up at her, and suddenly she knew exactly what she needed to do. For herself. For her sanity.
Fuck you, Daddy, Aria thought as she plucked up her cell and dialed the number printed in the ad, her heart hammering with excitement. Fuck you and the horse you rode in on.
* * *
At eight o’clock sharp the next night, Aria found herself standing on the sidewalk in front of a tall, modern concrete building. The sign out front announced it simply as The Lofts, a place where one could either reside or work, or both. Each loft occupied an entire floor, and one wishing to enter the urban colossus had to page that floor’s intercom number, an arrangement that Aria was quite used to in her lavish, private life. She located the button for XXXposed and paused, her heart seeming to hammer against her ribcage. Well, girl, here goes nothing, she thought, and pressed the intercom button.
A pleasant recorded female voice informed her that she was being connected. Classical music played briefly from the speaker, before a click announced that her call had been picked up.
“This is Gage.”
The voice was slightly smoky and sharply masculine. Aria felt a tiny, thrilling flame alight in her belly.
“Hi, Gage, this is Aria. I--“
“Aria, yes! My noon appointment. I’m on the sixth floor, dear. I’ll buzz you in.”
He hung up abruptly and there was a loud, sharp buzzing sound as the glass double doors unlocked. Aria yanked the right one open, shouldered her purse, fingered the manila envelope she was carrying, and walked in to her destiny.
She strode through the lobby, a cool and welcoming space with plush neutral furniture, shiny marble floors, and brightly-colored Japanese style bouquets on each table. She found the elevators and selected the sixth floor, staring at her own reflection as she rode upward.
The elevator doors swished open to a narrow hallway with a single door at its far end. Only a small, shiny black table occupied the space. Upon it sat a single pink and white orchid in a slim glass vase. Aria came down the hallway, her heels clicking on the marble floors, her heart risen so high into her throat that she felt she might choke.
What am I doing, what am I doing…
She watched her hand rise, watched it press the lit-up doorbell button. A pleasant chime sang from somewhere inside. The door swung open and suddenly she was looking up at a man.
Aria's observation of Gage was instantly intense; seeing him in real life made his ad photo pale in comparison. The word gorgeous was barely a descriptor of the magnificence here before her. He wore a tight black tank that left the big sculpted muscles of his arms bare. She observed the dark, punky tattoo sleeves that covered them and a tiny, wicked thrill fluttered in her mind. (Daddy would hate that.) Despite herself, she was already imagining running her fingers through his shoulder-length sable hair. A few lazy strands had fallen across his forehead, and she wanted to brush them aside, of only to gaze more deeply into the topaz blue eyes that she had glimpsed in the ad. She thrilled secretly at the shiny silver rings that pierced his nose, ears, and right eyebrow (Daddy would hate that even more), wondering where else he might feature such jewelry. His legs were long, lean, and Bruce Springsteen-muscular, and his tight, fashionably torn blue jeans left nothing to the imagination; she could see the monster they housed straining against the front. He was big...everywhere. How would he fit on top of her?...inside of her?
Then Gage was extending his hand, and she was taking it and shaking it. His hand was huge, too. Good Lord.
"Aria?" he said.
Her mouth felt too dry. "Yes. Are you Gage?" Oh my God, what a stupid question…
He smiled. Holy shit, whatta smile...l,000 watts, at least.
"I am he! Pleased to meet you, dear. Come in."
She followed him into the spacious loft, looking around curiously. Nope, no massage tables anywhere in sight. The immense space was dominated by a mammoth custom-made bed that looked like it had cost a fortune, made up with luxurious oxblood bedclothes and piles of pillows. On the far side of the warehouse-sized room there was a sort of dungeon area set up, complete with chains and straps attached to the brick walls, as well as myriad BDSM tools and toys hung up on racks and shelves in neat order. On the other side, across from the huge bed, a comfortable sitting room with plush sofa and a big screen TV had been set up. Aria noted the tall bookshelves in this part of the apartment: the contained not books, but dozens of porno movies, including some she recognized from the net. He saw her looking and smiled, nodding in that direction.
"My clients all have different tastes," he said. "Some want to be trained in BDSM, or in how to properly please their men. Others, like you, come to me to awaken their own pleasure. I like to have a lot of options available to them. Would you like a glass of champagne?"
Aria, already feeling a tad overwhelmed, nodded. She could definitely use a drink.
"Yes, thank you."
She followed him over to the luxurious open kitchen on the far side of the loft, where Gage went into the stainless steel wine chiller under the fridge and pulled out a bottle of 2007 Perrier-Jouet Belle Epoque Brut. Aria bit back a chuckle: her father had that same bottle in his cellar at home.
This guy must be making quite a living banging girls, she thought as Gage popped the bottle and poured into two tall Waterford flutes. He handed her one and guided her across to the sitting room. They sat down on the sofa and sipped their champagne; Adria found Gage's bad boy alpha looks combined with that fine crystal to be almost alarmingly alluring. He took a sip, and a crystal drop caught on the barely-there stubble on his strong upper lip. He licked it away, slowly, and the dart of his tongue both frightened and thrilled her.
“So, my understanding is that you would like for me to…awaken you. Is that correct?”
Aria nodded. “I’m a virgin. Weird, I know.”
Gage’s eyes twinkled. “That’s rare and wonderful these days. I’m honored that you are bringing that to me. I can promise you that I will help you…blossom…with enormous respect. I offer a truly wonderful experience that is healthy, clean, and responsible to you, my client.”
Aria took a too-big gulp of her champagne and nodded. “Ahem, yes.
Thank you, that means a lot.”
“Did you by any chance bring your health documents, as we had discussed over the phone?”
She handed him the manila envelope. He opened it and pulled out the papers tucked inside, looking them over. Aria sipped her champagne and admired the view as he reviewed her most recent health information.
Gage smiled and nodded as he returned the documents to their envelope. “Excellent. You reviewed my most recent screening via the email I sent you, as well?”
Aria nodded. “Yes, yours looked fine.”
“I will be happy to provide a hard copy for you, as well, before you leave this evening.”
“No, that isn’t necessary. Um…I brought cash. For the down payment. I have it right here if you—“
Gage's topaz blue eyes sparkled, and he grinned. Somehow, despite his bad boy looks, there was sweetness in that grin. She could sense his capacity for gentleness, and it both pleased and confused her. But it was what he said next that nearly knocked her on the floor.
“Are you in a rush to leave, Aria?”
Aria flushed immediately, like she always did. Like some goofus. Good thing I'm paying him, she thought miserably. Otherwise, he'd laugh me out the door. But something in his gaze had deepened, and Aria suddenly felt like she was Alice falling down the rabbit hole and into a richer, warmer, and somehow very erotic version of Wonderland.
“I’m not sure I know what you mean…” she said. He reached out and brushed the tips of his fingers against hers on the sofa cushion; instantly there was a flush of heat between her thighs, and a pleasant twinge deep inside that made her nipples harden against the fabric of her bra cups.
"Some of my clients like to...sample the merchandise before they buy."
"Ok," she said softly. "But I don't want to...you know."
Gage winked at her, and her panties pretty much melted. "No, hon, none of that. We save that for our special session. I'm talking about...a taste."
His hands rose toward her sweater, and she leaned back slightly. Gage laughed softly, but not unkindly.
"Do I frighten you, Aria?"
She shook her head. "No...not at all. I just don't know...um..."
"What to do?"
She raised her eyes to his, and almost instantly she felt like she was drowning in their shocking blueness. He touched her shoulders gently, and the warmth of his hands alone made her pussy ache deeply.
"Don't worry about anything. I'm the salesman here...let me show you what I can give you. May I, Aria?"
His gaze had turned smoky, and she liked it. Oh, yes, she did. For tonight, her cherry would remain hers...but she would enjoy this first taste, and trust the master to show her how it was done.
Gage leaned in to her then, his lips a bare inch from hers; her own parted, moist, ready.
"Have you ever been kissed before, Aria?" he murmured. She averted her eyes.
"No."
"I can't believe that. You are stunning. A goddess."
Her gaze flicked back to his and suddenly his lips were on hers, hot and eager. She gasped against his mouth and he took advantage, pressing closer, flickering his tongue gently inside her lips. She responded instinctually, shyly touching back with the tip of her own. The kiss deepened, and suddenly Gage's hands were unbuttoning her sweater. Aria found herself leaning in, wanting to feel his hands on her. She was wearing a plain beige front-closure bra and his fingers moved fast, deftly unhooking the constraining garment with one smooth move, never taking his lips from hers. Holy shit, he really is a pro, she thought, and then his hands were pushing her bra cups aside and cupping her tits, and that was all she could think about.
Gage massaged her breasts, squeezing tenderly, before pinching her nipples gently between his fingertips. Aria gasped against his mouth, and he kissed her hard before pulling back. He was smiling, and damn, his smile was gorgeous.
"Does that feel good, baby?"
He lightly massaged her nipples with his fingertips and Aria moaned, despite herself; she had never felt anything so amazing in her entire life.
"Y-yes..."
"Good," he breathed. "We're just getting started."
He released her tits (she was briefly, bitterly, disappointed) and pulled his wife beater off, exposing his lean, sculpted torso. Aria's eyes focused momentarily on the big tattoo emblazoned across his chest--a thorny dark red heart flying on a pair of cobwebbed wings--before he leaned in and kissed her again, and she forgot all about that tattoo. He moved down, pressing soft kisses against the side of her neck, and her heart was pounding.
"Let me take off those clothes," he murmured. "They're in the way. Don't worry, I'll leave my jeans on."
He pushed her sweater and unhooked bra off and tossed them to the floor beside the sofa. He kept kissing her as he unzipped her conservative trousers and helped her out of them, throwing them down beside the discarded sweater and bra. Leaving her only in her basic white panties, he pushed her back against the luxurious sofa cushions. His firmness thrilled her; her pussy was so wet and eager that it throbbed. Was this what was really like to be with a man? Firm yet gentle, where she could feel both protected and wildly, unabashedly aroused? Gage slipped his hand between her thighs and began to rub her engorged clit and swollen lips through her panties.
"My God," she gasped. She found herself lifting her hips, pushing against his caressing fingers. He rubbed her off with expertise, applying the perfect amount of pressure, until she was moaning and sighing, twisting beneath him. Just as she was about to come, he pulled his hand away abruptly, leaving her trembling.
"Not yet," he murmured, winking down at her. "Don't want to spoil the ending for you so soon. Just wait."
Gage moved on top of her, coming down between her legs, positioning himself so that his jeans-clad crotch was pressing against her soaked panties. His weight came to rest fully atop her and hot love juices trickled from her virgin slit. He kissed her once more, lips pressing, caressing, before moving down to engage her breasts fully.
He kissed and licked the curvaceous undersides of her left breast, nibbling at her smooth pale flesh as he moved in a slow, titillating circle around her full soft tit. He could smell the wet heat of her sex wafting up from between her thighs like a heavy exotic perfume; feel her arousal rising steadily to a boiling point as he moved with torturous slowness toward the strawberry pink tip at her breast’s center. “Please,” Aria panted, her torso twisting, trying to push her nipple closer to his wandering mouth, something she never imagined in her life that she would do.
“Not yet. Patience, sweetheart.”
Using the barest tip of his tongue, Gage licked wet, tight circles around her areola, teasingly close to the turgid bud at its center. Aria trembled, moaning softly. Gage licked her nipple, blew on it gently. She moaned deliriously, shuddering as he finally drew the hard pink bullet into his mouth, sucking deeply and flicking it with his tongue stud while massaging her breast with increasing firmness. He sucked harder, grinding the turgid bud with his lips, applying a sweet, agonizing pressure that nearly drove her mad. She twisted and writhed beneath him, humping against his jeans-clad crotch as he moved to her other breast and gave it the same treatment. Soon he was licking her breasts all over, slow, wet, unhurried strokes, his tongue lapping, tasting the sweet musk of her skin, the salt of her sweat.
"Gage!" she moaned, "oh God..." and then she was coming, bucking up against him as he pushed the huge, hard bulge inside his jeans against her crotch, grinding gently. She shuddered violently as the orgasm rippled through her. He was sweating, his breath thundering as he raised his head and grinned at her, a few more strands of hair falling across his jewel-toned eyes, making her just a little crazy.
"So, Aria," he said, winking. "Ready to buy?"
* * *
Earlier that evening, across the street from Gage’s building, Stephanie had sat in her Mercedes and watched the little redhead ring herself in, manila envelope in hand. Now, as she sped toward home, gripping the steering
wheel too hard, Stephanie was feeling really pissed off. He should have been hers, dammit. She was one of his most loyal clients—he had told her so. She was a great fuck—this, he had also told her. She had been planning to divorce Harold for quite a while now, and the fat, stupid old rich fuck hadn’t had her sign a prenup. She would have plenty of money with which to support Gage while he looked for another line of work. But, apparently, Gage was hard of hearing.
I’ll show you, bad boy, Stephanie thought fiercely as she roared down the highway. I’ll show you that I’m all you will ever need.
***
Just after midnight, Aria got into her apartment, kicked the door shut behind her, and leaned back against it, staring up at the ceiling. Her head was absolutely reeling.
Gage filled her head. After showing her his skills, he had not kicked her out the door, as she had expected. Rather, he had called his next session and rescheduled with her, leaving his night open. Then he had ordered takeout, and they had eaten together. Good conversation had ensued, and they had talked late into the night, like old friends. Despite his dubious profession and the services he was providing to her, it had been like she had known him her entire life. He was intelligent and warm, and had traveled to places Aria had only imagined visiting. Places where one could hike dusty mountain roads wearing sneakers and jeans, and learn from the local people in their mud huts. Places where there wasn’t a country club in sight. He had even asked her what her favorite color was before she left. When she had told him—teal—and asked him why, he had just smiled and winked. Now, back home, she could not deny the feelings she was catching, soft and fluttering as butterfly wings in her belly.
She kicked her heels off there in the hallway and padded across the living room to her spacious bathroom. Her big garden tub was surrounded by a scattering of big pillar candles, and she lit them all, til the granite walls around the tub flickered with a dozen tiny flames. She drew herself a bath, as hot as she could stand it, and sank in, sighing blissfully as her body became submerged. There, in the warm stillness, she thought of Gage. She dreamed of him.
Train Her Page 2