by Mia Moore
Yes, she presented well. It was almost unfair for the younger, more nubile girls that would be there. In their youth, they lacked the people skills and insight that are acquired only with experience and maturity. Maybe she was thirty two, but her four sessions a week with a personal trainer (who was a sadist at times) kept her body fashion model fit.
She was also pleased with her dress, no surprise there. Again, through the use of the internet, she established a relationship with a fashion house in Shanghai. It had taken a bit of work, but they now had her measurements on file, and when she saw an attractive dress in Vogue or Elle, a scan, an email and relatively dirt cheap payment in advance gave her a made to measure copy in two weeks and another design for their catalogue.
As usual, the dress was sophisticated and sexy. A coral color, the fabric draped over her left shoulder to meet the strap of fabric crossing her bare back. The skirt was long, hugging her hips and falling free in folds to the floor. There was a slit to the upper thigh on the side. At the right side of her waist, the fabric was clasped with a diamond studded clip. Annik stepped back and then forward again to check out the way the slit opened to show her long shapely leg and the silver, four-inch stiletto heels. Knowing she was beautiful and perfectly dressed, she left her apartment. The cab she had called earlier was waiting. The driver got out to open the door for her.
“Hi Dan” she said “How are you doing?
“Hey gorgeous! Special date tonight? You still got me on speed dial doll?”
“Of course. It always makes me feel better knowing if things ever go bad you got my back,” she said. She leaned forward to kiss his cheek.
Dan opened the door for Annik and held her hand as she stepped in.
“Where to?” he asked
“Chez Louis. I'm meeting some hotshot CEO. He's hosting a dinner party and I'm his girlfriend for the night. Pretty sure there will be a few other girls, no idea who,” Annik said.
“Okay you be careful hon, some of these big wigs can get outta line y'know. You press speed dial and I’ll be there.”
“You bet.” Annik thought of how long she had known Dan, at least three years. She had met him when a client turned nasty. She had run out of the motel and Dan’s cab had happened to be parked out front. He had noticed her bleeding lip and bruised eye before she had tumbled into the cab. He got the room number and went in to lay a beating on the prick. The ridiculous thing about the guy was that he was a born-again minister. He had put his Bible thumping aside and decided to do some thumping on her when she was about to leave. Dan had taken her to Tim Horton's, cleaned her up and bought her a cup of coffee. He was in his early fifties, retired from the police department and driving part-time for something to do. Happily married for twenty-six years. Annik had visited his home and had dinners with him and Shelley many times. They were good people and treated her like a daughter. A daughter they worried about; but loved. Without judgment. And with respect. Their own attitude towards human sexuality created the basis for a close friendship.
They pulled up in front of Chez Louis and Dan opened the door for her. He held out his hand to help her out and scowled.
“No way cupcake. You take that back. We're friends” he said handing her the hundred dollar bill she had tried to slip him.
“It's not for you. It's for Shelley. Take her out for dinner on me,” Annik insisted. “Besides, Dan, it’s expensed to the client, as a car and driver.” With a little wave she left him at the curb.
The restaurant was reminiscent of the 1930s decor. It had a private dining areas, dark brocade curtains, upholstered chairs, and crisp white linen on each table, served by waiters wearing impeccable deep burgundy uniforms. The tuxedoed maître d' asked Annik if she was dining alone or joining friends.
She said “Bill Trembley’s party.”
“Of course Madam. Please follow me,” he said, escorting her to the table.
Four men and three women were already seated. Good, she’d be making an entrance. She held her head high and smiled slightly as she approached the table, her eyes quickly assessing, each member of the party.
The men rose to their feet and a dark-haired, tall, beefy man stepped forward. He took both of her hands in his and introduced himself.
“And you are Annik. I’m Bill. You are every bit as beautiful as Jeremy said you’d be. Please have a seat.”
He held out the chair which was next to his own. Annik gracefully sat down, the fabric parted revealing her leg. Bill’s eyes swept down as he slid her chair closer to the table.
“Please allow me to introduce you to everyone. This is Edward my business partner and his friend Jessica, that's Steve and Ann, and this is Bob and Connie,” he said, gesturing to the couples at the table.
Annik smiled at each in turn and said “Pleased to meet you.”
“Would you like me to order you a drink or would you like a glass of the wine we have here?” He asked.
“Wine would be lovely.” She replied. Bill poured her wine and told her that he had taken the liberty of ordering her dinner—the house specialty, beef tenderloin.
Annik smiled, touched his hand and looking into his eyes said, “Thank you. I like a man who takes charge and I love tenderloin.”
Bill smiled in return, lifted her hand and, brought it to his lips.
Annik sipped her wine and glanced at her dinner companions. The three women were attractive although a little too flashy and overdone for her taste. Each was dressed in a too short black cocktail dress. She judged their ages to be mid twenties. Of the men, she felt she may have scored the best. Edward was tall, skinny and nervous looking. She sensed that he felt awkward, unfamiliar with escorts, judging by how fast he was downing the wine. Steve was an Asian man who projected a haughty, superior air. Bob was short, jovial and carrying fifty pounds of excess flesh. He was pawing at Connie and leaning over to kiss her and nuzzle her neck. Connie didn’t know how to get that guy to behave in public.
Bill tried to engage the others in conversation while they waited for dinner.
“Living in Toronto, you must go to a lot of Blue Jays games. Are you fans?” He asked Steve and Bob.
Bob ceased his groping of Connie long enough to answer “Yeah, the company has a set of four, season tickets. We go whenever we have time. I like to bring clients. It's great ball and great PR.”
“I leave the sports to Bob and the other execs.” Steve said. “I’m more a numbers guy and a bit of workaholic. If I'm not working, I don't know what to do with myself.”
Annik smiled wryly. That was going to be an interesting challenge for Ann later. She felt Bill’s hand stroking her leg under the table, rising higher and closer to her crotch with each touch. He smiled at her and continued the baseball conversation, talking about his favorite team and players.
Dinner then arrived, interrupting the talk. The food at Chez Louis was renowned for its quality and presentation. After each person was served, Bill ordered another couple of bottles of wine. Each enjoyed a few more glasses while they ate. Annik nursed her first glass and drank water.
Steve and Edward seemed to relax a bit with the wine and the meal and talked to their female dinner partners. Annik glanced at the other women, noting their table etiquette was lacking. Connie was speaking with her mouth full, flirting, and placing her hands on Bob’s shoulder and arms, taking his hand every chance she could. Ann was shoveling food into her mouth like a farmer shoveling manure. Jessica chatted and smiled, and laughed too much; but her eyes never stopped watching.
Taking a break from his meal, Bill resumed his exploration of Annik’s thigh urging with his hand for her to part her legs.
Annik leaned over to whisper to him. “You’ve already paid me for tonight. I need to know what it is you have paid for. Is it an Escort or a whore?”
“What do you mean?” he asked.
Resting her chin in her hand, she looked at him directly “If all you want is a paid fuck slut, then I’m a whore. If you want the evening to be intimate, s
omewhat elegant, a little romantic, and a sexual memory, then I’m an Escort. But, there’s more to it Bill.”
“I’m curious. What’s the more?”
“Well, if I’m your Escort, you’re my Patron. If I’m your whore for the night, that makes you a John.”
“Is there really that much of a difference?” he asked. Fair question.
Annik leaned into him and whispered into his ear. “Look across the table at our companions. Neither party has respect for the other. It’s the equivalent of buying a roll of toilet paper.” Annik leaned on the table, not taking her eyes from Bill for a second.
“And Bill, you’re adult enough to know, from experience, that intimacy and sex can be so much more than that. So I ask you again, what do you want? You’ve already paid.”
He looked off to the side, thoughtful for a moment. He glanced over at the other three couples now laughing and pawing at each other, and back to Annik “I don’t want to be a John tonight, Annik”.
“I didn’t think you did,” she smiled. “Jeremy didn’t just refer me to you, you know. He also gave me a reference for you.”
“I have to say honestly, I’ve never had a… ‘Companion’ put it like that. You got my attention, but I have to admit I’m a little at sea right now. Where do we go from here?”
“Well then, why don’t we leave this party, go somewhere for a quiet drink and get to know one another better. The more I know about you, the better your experience will be tonight.”
Bill nodded and resumed his dinner somewhat anxious to finish and leave. When the waiter returned to remove their plates and suggest dessert, Bill told him that they would pass on dessert. He ordered a round of Baileys and coffee for everyone but Annik and himself, and asked the waiter for the check.
“I think we have some other ideas for dessert tonight.” Bob said hugging Connie closer to him.
Annik noticed that even awkward Edward was feeling comfortable enough to caress Jessica's hand. She also noticed that Jessica's hand, closest to Edward, was not on the table. Probably Jessica was rubbing Edward’s crotch. Ann had turned, leaning into the arrogant Steve and her hand was also working under the table. Annik sighed. These girls were getting the guys hot but where was the challenge in that?’ Seduction, was the art that separated the Escort from the whore. The true professionals.
Knowing they would be leaving soon, Annik asked Bill for leave to attend the lady’s room. From the look on his face it was evident that the request had taken him aback, especially when she waited silently for his permission.
He broke into a broad smile, whispered, “Girl, you really know how to treat a man,” and speaking a little louder said “Of course, my dear, but hurry back. I’m going to miss you.” Annik rose. She only had to wave Bill to retain his seat, the other men not even possessing that level of etiquette, and left the table.
In the restroom, finishing up her touch ups, Ann came through the door.
“Oh, GAWD this is a great night! I so love doing Executives that are married!” Ann said, “they’re like kids let out of school early.”
She glanced at Ann in the mirror. “Yeah,” she said, taking her cue from this whore, “fuck their brains out, and as long as they come, you own ‘em.”
“Oh, and I got my secret weapon,” Ann said, looking into Annik’s eyes. Ann’s were a tad bloodshot from her boozing—she had her fair share of the four bottles of wine during the meal, and an always full, gin and tonic next to her plate.
“Oh?” said Annik, “you got my attention. I can always use a Secret Weapon.”
Ann smiled, mischievously. “Quid pro quo, darling. I’ll tell you a secret, but you gotta tell me one too.”
Annik gave Ann the once over. She was no kid, thirty or so. She watched as Ann fumbled into her purse, drew out a small sterling silver bottle with a tiny spoon attached. Ann opened the bottle, and took two hits, snorting them deeply and wiping her nose. Here we go.
“That’s fair, hon,” Annik said. “Just as long as it’s between us girls, okay?”
“Sure. That’s what I’m all about. Wanna hit?” she offered the bottle to Annik.
“Thanks, that’s sweet; but I can’t. On meds, you know; last time I mixed, I was in the ER twenty minutes later. Now that was a tough night!” she laughed. “Thank god for crack—no side effects, just the twenty minute rush.”
“Oh. I didn’t know that. I use coke myself,” said Ann. “So who goes first?”
Annik turned from the mirror. “Well, Ann, you offered… what should we do?”
“You go first!”
“Okay. You did offer me a snort after all,” Annik said. “What would you like to know?”
Ann’s eyes squinted. “I’m curious, just how much you charge for a night like tonight. It’s gotta be a lot. That’s one very expensive dress you’re wearing.”
Annik figured that was going to be the question. Each time she did a group thing like tonight, she was always asked that question by ‘one of the gals’.
“You really like it, Ann?” she asked, grazing her hands over her dress. “I paid a lot for it.”
“It’s killer! Ohmygod, how can you afford it?”
“Well, you do get what you pay for. My John loves it too. And you know, you only get one chance to make a first impression.”
“You’re so right. So…?”
Annik made Ann ‘cross her heart, hope to die’ for confidentiality, and quoted a number that was fifty percent higher than her actual fee.
“NO WAY!” Ann said.
“Way.”
“And they go for it?”
“Plus two hundred for car and driver, honey.”
The booze and coke made Ann transparent. Annik could see her wheels turning. Ann could easily double her take for the evening, and still undercut Annik by twenty-five percent using that figure as a guideline. The bitch would be starving in a month.
“Well, Ann, my turn. What’s the secret weapon?” As if she didn’t already have a good guess.
“Oh this is good. After he gets off, and just as I’m leaving, I give him a hundred bucks back. I tell him that he was so good for me, that he got me off so good, that I had to, just HAD TO, give him something back.”
Yeah, right. That hundred was a fifty. One of the oldest tricks in the book to keep the Johns enraptured. Until they get another girl who pulled the same shit on them. Or worse, unless Ann was the second whore to try that stunt.
“What a GREAT idea. I never thought of that. Ohmygod! I’m trying that TONIGHT.”
“Can’t miss, hon,” said Ann. “Trust me.”
The two women left the restroom together and joined the others at the table.
When the coffee and Bailey's were served Bill said that he was calling it a night and asked for them to please excuse himself and Annik. “Come, my dear,” he said. He stood, offering her his hand. As they were leaving, she noticed that the conversation had quieted, and soft talk and laughter was happening between each couple.
Bill flagged a cab and held the door for Annik. Inside, he leaned toward her to kiss. She returned the kiss softly then turned her head into his shoulder. He put his hand on her breast squeezing and rubbing.
Annik removed his hand, and said “Not yet. You’ll be happy you waited. Trust me.”
They stopped at a quiet club that she suggested, where they could have a conversation and still have the option to dance. Finding a table, he held the chair for her to be seated. He ordered club soda with lime for both of them, remarking he had drank enough for the night.
“I’m glad you’ve switched to soda. We’ll have so much more fun later. Bill, you’re a pretty successful business man. You must work pretty hard. What do you do for fun and relaxation?” she asked. She knew you could gain some insightful information by finding out what sports or hobbies a man enjoyed. She knew he liked baseball, but what else?
“Well, when I’m home, I like to read and play golf, but my favorite time is when I go to the Caribbean for a vacati
on. It may sound funny coming from a big guy like me, but I like to dance and the Latin salsa beat drives me crazy. Then, there’s lying on the beach, soaking up the sun, having coconut scented suntan lotion rubbed onto my back. Man that’s heaven.” He said. “Do you like to dance?”
“My father was from Barbados. I lived there as a child before coming to Canada. So yes, I love to dance.” she said. “If there’s a song you like, that’s playing, I would love to dance with you.”
“I like that soft blues beat that’s on right now. Let’s go.” He rose and led her by the hand to the dance floor.
True to his word, he was a good dancer and she had no trouble following his lead. He held her close, swaying and then spinning her around under his arm when the beat picked up. They danced for a few songs before he, laughing and hugging her, said time for a break.
She complimented him on his dance skills and asked if he had taken lessons. He replied it was all self taught, observing others dancing. She then asked him the type of books that he was interested in, as he said that he liked to read.
“Mostly I like mystery and detective novels. But I have to admit that I like it when there is sex in a good story. I guess they call it erotica.”
“Hmm…that’s interesting. What scenes are the ones you enjoy the most? Straight sex, a little BDSM, threesomes,” she asked.
“Okay, you asked and you’re the expert. Almost like talking to your doctor….kinda, I mean. I like a woman to take charge and tell me what to do. Maybe it’s because at work I’m the boss, and at home I make the decisions, that just for once I’d like someone else to take control. When I read scenes like that, and fantasize later about it when I’m making love with my wife, it gets me off,” he said.
“I think I’d like to go now Bill and be alone with you.” She purposely leaned forward toward him giving him an eyeful of her cleavage and breasts. She kissed him on the mouth and stood up. His face was level with her tummy. He reached out and stroked her hip before also getting to his feet.
Bill left a twenty dollar bill on the table and they left. On the street, a cab was driving by and he flagged it down. Minutes later they were in his room at the Royal York.