Second Time Around

by Darrin Lowery

  “That’s fine. Is this your first time?”

  “Can’t you tell?”

  Darren laughed a bit himself this time. So did the woman on the phone, but she still remained professional.

  “Mr. Howard, let’s try a new approach. Describe an African American woman who you think is beautiful. You can even give me the name of a celebrity and I can take care of everything from there.”

  The whole conversation seemed surreal. Darren couldn’t believe that he was going through with this. He felt nervous at first, but the more he talked to the sexy voice on the other end of the phone, the calmer he became. After a while he began to feel more confident. He decided to take on the persona of his client, a confident and influential African American man.

  “Okay. I think Keyshia Cole is beautiful. I also like Jada Pinkett Smith. There is also Meagan Good—oh, and I also happen to love Serena Williams. I think Serena has an amazing body.”

  “Slow down, Mr. Howard, I think I have an idea of the scale you are looking for. Let’s begin slowly. Would you like someone this evening who looks like Keyshia or Serena or a combination of both?”

  “A combination of both? Is that even possible?”

  “It is.”

  “Damn, what are you guys doing over there, building them in a lab?”

  “No sir, we are simply... elite.” The woman spoke in a very sexy tone.

  “Well, let’s start with a woman who looks like Keyshia.”

  “Do you want a woman who looks like Keyshia Cole in the ‘Shoulda Let You Go’ video, or the ‘Playa Cardz Right’ video?”

  “Wow. I think I’ll take blond Keyshia.”

  “Will she be there for a few hours or overnight?”

  “Uh . . . How much is each?”

  “A few hours, three to be exact, is fifteen hundred. Overnight is four thousand.”

  Ouch! Darren thought.

  There was a brief pause on the phone.

  “Mr. Howard, are you still with me?”

  “Huh, oh . . . yeah. I’m with you . . . four . . . thousand . . . dollars.” Darren couldn’t believe it himself.

  “I tell you what, Mr. Howard, since this is your first time and you have been referred by an elite VIP, I will charge you two thousand for an overnight. This option is a onetime offer. But you will have to act now. How does that sound?”

  “Uh . . . um . . . okay. Two thousand. I’ll take the . . . um . . . two-thousand dollar package.”

  Darren couldn’t even believe he was saying this. He couldn’t believe he was doing this. Two thousand dollars? That was four car payments, or a round-trip ticket to Vegas. Hell, it was only sixteen hundred dollars for his trip to Brazil last year. This was two thousand dollars for one night. He was beginning to have doubts—serious doubts. He was zoning out until the operator pulled him out of the daze he was in.

  “Okay, Mr. Howard and how will you be completing your transaction?”

  “Huh?”

  “How will you pay for this?”

  “Visa.”

  “And this card number, will this be the card that you plan to use in the future?”

  “Uh . . . I don’t know that I will be using you again in the future.”

  “Oh, I think you might,” the woman said confidently.

  “Really? What makes you so sure?”

  “We’re Elite . . . remember?”

  “Elite . . . yeah . . . got it.”

  Darren and the phone operator exchanged information. His heart was pounding hard in his chest the whole time.

  “Okay, Mr. Howard, you are all set. I just need your address.”

  “3324 Jefferson”

  “House or apartment?”

  “Condo. The garden unit.”

  “Your package will be there in two hours. There are just a few rules; they will be explained to you upon the package’s arrival. Thank you for using Elite.”

  “Thank you.”

  Darren let out a heavy sigh. He was really going to go through with this. He was already dressed, but became anxious at the prospect of having a call girl come to his home. He looked around his condo, which was always clean, and for whatever reason decided to clean up more.

  He waxed the hardwood kitchen floor, wiped down the granite countertops, and sprayed glass cleaner on the cocktail table in the living room. He remade his bed, pulled out a few candles, and strategically placed them all over. He sprayed air freshener and pulled out some custom-made CD’s. He pulled fresh fruit from the fridge, and staged his condo as if he were getting ready for a date. Only this date was costing him two large.

  He paced back and forth and soon after lost his nerve. He started to call the escort service and ask them for a refund. He was sure there would be a no-refund policy or at the very least a cancellation fee.

  He wanted to cancel, but by doing so, his client whom he used as a reference would surely be notified. He had to see this thing through. The problem was he was worrying himself to death. When he looked up, it was 10:59 P.M. At exactly 11:00, his bell rang.

  Darren’s heart pounded in his chest. His breathing was erratic and he was nervous, more nervous than he had ever been in his life. He was even more nervous now than he was at graduation. He swallowed hard before opening the door. His jaw dropped as he looked at the stunningly beautiful woman who stood on the other side.

  “Hello, Mr. Howard.” The woman’s voice was smooth, sultry, and seductive.

  Darren was speechless.

  “My name is Keyshia.”

  He stood there in the doorway in complete awe. There, in front of him, was a woman who looked the spitting image of the celebrity singer. Darren’s mouth was wide open and he took a second to gather his composure. The woman was absolutely... breathtaking.

  “Wow,” he said in a voice just above a whisper.

  The woman blushed and smiled at the compliment.

  “Can I come in?” she asked.

  “Please. Please do.”

  She had a honey-brown complexion, long, dark eyelashes, and a soft pink lipstick that perfectly complemented her bronze complexion. Her hair was a short feather cut and it was blond. She had pearly white teeth with a slight gap in the front two teeth and a smile that spoke volumes of seduction with a hint of shyness.

  Her eyebrows were dark brown and she had big, beautiful brown eyes. She was top heavy and her stomach was flat, but not ripped. At first glance, she looked and sounded exactly like the R & B singer. She was dressed in a dark green strapless dress with matching heels. She had on gold hoop earrings and her nails were painted the same pink that matched her lipstick. There was no other word to describe her other than breathtaking.

  “Please, sit down,” Darren said. “Do you want something to eat?”

  “No, thank you. I would like a drink, though,” she said.

  “What would you like?”

  “Just water for now.”

  He went to the kitchen and retrieved a glass of water, handing it to her as she sat on the couch. He sat across from her. Darren was nervous, but he was no longer thinking about the coin that he spent. The escort spoke first.

  “So, I hear this is your first time.” She looked at him seductively, innocently.

  “It is.”

  “Well, there are a few rules. Do you mind if I go over them?” She placed the glass of water on the table as she spoke to him.

  “Uh, no. Please. Please do.” He poured himself a drink: rum and Coke in a short glass.

  “Well, for starters, there is no kissing on the mouth. If you want to initiate intimacy, you begin by kissing me here, on the neck. I don’t play rough, and I don’t expect you to. I use protection and I supply the protection. At any point if I feel unsafe or I say stop . . . I expect you to do just that.”

  Darren felt uneasy at this point; he felt dirty. Suddenly he felt very wrong in doing this. Again, however, he felt he needed to see things through. He started this and like many experiences in life, you can’t un-ring a bell.

  �
�I . . . uh . . . I understand,” he said.

  “You can touch me anywhere. You cannot digitally penetrate my backside, however. Also, just as a disclaimer, the agency knows where I am, and they have all of your information. I provide a service. You pay for the fantasy and are entitled to the fantasy, but in no way, shape or form, are you entitled to the woman. Are we clear on that?”

  “Uh . . . crystal clear.”

  “One more thing. I don’t date clients. I don’t see anyone outside of the realm of this arena. I do not share personal information. So please don’t ask me how or why I’m in this business. Please don’t try to save me from this business and should you see me in public with anyone, male or female, please do not approach me. I could be with a customer or I could be with family. In either case, I don’t mix my business with my personal life. If it’s possible for me to approach you to say hello, I will. If I don’t, well, please don’t take any offense. I expect you to conduct yourself as a professional. Are there any questions?”

  “Uh . . . no.”

  Darren looked quite disappointed. The look on his face spoke volumes about how ashamed he was to have called a service. He felt dirty, seedy, and desperate. He didn’t feel like a professional at all. Nor did he feel like a man who commanded respect. Upon hearing the disclaimer, he immediately felt that this was a mistake. The escort could see the regret on his face. She got up and sat next to him to reassure him.

  “I know this all sounds . . . impersonal; maybe even cold. But once we establish the boundaries, I assure you everything else will fall in place. I also promise you that I won’t disappoint you.”

  He could smell her perfume. It was expensive. She smelled amazing. She wore scented body lotion that smelled like fresh fruit. She looked good and smelled good. Good enough to eat. Darren was at a loss as to what to do next, so he asked her.

  “So . . . what do you want to do? I mean, how do we do this?” He replaced the glass on the table.

  “Everything is up to you. You have me for the entire night.”

  She took his chin in her hand and kissed him on the cheek.

  “You’re beautiful, you know that?”

  “Thank you.”

  She smiled a beautiful smile and Darren thought his heart might just stop then and there. He had to keep telling himself this wasn’t real. It was a fantasy, a very expensive fantasy. He immediately could see why his client was addicted.

  “Do you want to go out and get a bite to eat?” he asked.

  “If you’re buying, I could eat.”

  Darren smiled. “Okay, then. Let’s go.” He took her by the hand and they left.

  They went out to the garage that was attached to the condo and headed to Darren’s car. They went on Lake Shore Drive and took in the city’s beautiful skyline while listening to soft music. They took Lake Shore Drive to Roosevelt Road and then drove from South Michigan Avenue to North Michigan Avenue. From there they drove to Rush Street and had dinner at Gibson’s steak house.

  They had dinner and they each exchanged not-so-personal stories about themselves. Darren was careful not to ask too many questions, but being a therapist, once he relaxed, it was easy to get information from her. It was especially easy once she found out that he was a therapist.

  He didn’t have to ask much. Like many people, once she found out that he was a therapist, some things just came out. Before the night was over she confessed that her birth name was Stephanie.

  As they ate, people stared at the couple. Many people thought Stephanie was actually the singer. After multiple times of her explaining that she wasn’t, Darren and Stephanie decided to head back to his place. The drive back was slow and deliberate.

  They took in the sights of the city as they made their way back to his place. He drove and she laid her head on his shoulder as if they had been a couple all of their lives. This was something else that he liked about her. She was smart, charming, and witty. Throughout the night she smiled at him, looked at him adoringly, and laughed at his jokes. She patted his hand attentively and even stroked his hand lovingly throughout their conversation at dinner. She was warm and inviting, more than any other woman who he dated; any other woman except her. He had to keep reminding himself that Stephanie was saying all the right things because that was her job.

  They parked and held hands as they made their way back to his place. Darren opened the door and invited Stephanie in. She sat on his couch with familiarity. For whatever reason she put him at ease and before he knew it, he was treating her as if they had been a couple and known each other for three years rather than three hours.

  Darren played Joe’s song “Majic.” While the music played, he fixed her a drink of Sprite and Hypnotic. He turned on the central air and walked over to her on the couch. She smiled at him, he smiled at her, and after they both downed their drinks he softly kissed her on her neck—he initiated intimacy.

  His warm breath on her flesh made her swoon. She let out a gentle sigh and a smile as he kissed her neck. He desperately wanted to kiss her on the lips. He wanted to taste her drink, but he tried to be mindful of her rules; rules that were a constant reminder that this was business, not personal. He wanted it to be personal. He wanted to make love to her—all of her. His money only gave him limited access. He wished he had an all-access pass.

  Kissing was forbidden. Because it was forbidden he wanted her more. He kissed her neck and she kissed his. His hands found her breasts and her hands found his package. They began kissing and petting like teenagers, only they kissed everywhere but the lips. Her heart was pounding. He could feel it. His heart was pounding, she could feel it. He took a firm grip on her backside and she let out slow, repetitive purrs as they caressed one another.

  Minutes passed and the level of passion in the room rose with the temperature, in spite of Darren having turned on the central air. Stephanie continued to kiss his neck; she unbuttoned his shirt and kissed his chest. After that, it only took her a few minutes to undress him. She paused and admired his body. She liked what she saw; she liked his chest, his flat stomach, muscular arms, and even the Calvin Klein briefs he wore. To her, he looked darned good in them. His package . . . his bulge, looked even better.

  She reached in her nearby purse. She pulled out two condoms and held them in her hand, smiling as she spoke.

  “Black is for sex. Green is flavored,” she whispered.

  Darren licked his lips in anticipation.

  “You do think of everything, don’t you?” he said softly.

  “Tonight my only goal is to please you.” She looked him up and down. Her look was a provocative one. Again she smiled.

  She stepped back and slowly peeled off her clothes. Her beautiful body kept him mesmerized. He was living a fantasy. In his mind, he was about to sleep with a celebrity. It might not have been the real thing, but for the next few hours that followed he pretended it was and he had his every way with her. He pretended that for one night he had his way with his celebrity crush. Pretty soon she stood across from him, near naked and flawless. Underneath her dress were matching lace panties and a bra. Her nipples were hard, her breasts were taut, and the place between her legs was meticulously trimmed and wet. He looked at her sweet spot as if it were his last meal. He walked over to her and placed his hand on her ass and again kissed her neck and collarbone. As he kissed her, she placed the flavored condom over him. She then began to please him.

  In his mind, he had his way with the stunningly beautiful R&B singer. This night cost him two thousand dollars and by morning he felt it was worth every dime. They made love to his favorite music.

  They rested, made love, and rested again. By morning they were both spent. When he awoke after the third orgasm she gave him . . . she was gone. By the nightstand was a kiss print on a napkin and a note.

  Thank you for a wonderful night.

  —Keyshia (Stephanie)

  “Damn, that was incredible,” he said when he awoke. He then realized that he might have an addiction. He felt lik
e an addict after his first hit. The high he was on was amazing. The sex was great, the passion was intoxicating, and the thrill and rush of doing something that was considered illegal, immoral, and dirty all at once was appealing to him. The way he felt when he woke up was great. He felt alive. He felt refreshed. He was tired, but it was a good kind of tired. And there was no stress, no drama and, no awkward moment afterward. He was hooked. The question that bothered him, however, was whether or not he had the willpower to stop.

  I could go broke easily doing this shit. I see why my client was so addicted. Yeah, I spent a lot of coin on last night, but right now it seems like it’s worth every penny. I mean, that’s why I work, right? I work to have the ability to provide myself with the things that I want and need. I may not need another night like last night, but I definitely want more nights like that. Besides, I could quit anytime, right?

  Chapter Nine

  Korie hadn’t been out on a date in a long time. It had been six weeks since her last date and almost six months since she had last been intimate with a man. The last man she slept with was a waste of time. He was handsome and he was well endowed, but he had no idea how to work what he had. On top of that, the last man thought he was God’s gift to women.

  He wasn’t. He was more like God’s prank.

  Korie had no plans on sleeping with DeVaughn Harris, but she did wonder what the day was going to be like. Korie didn’t even know why she agreed to go out with this man. She felt like Jayna put her in an awkward position by telling him that she would go out with him.

  As far as Korie was concerned, she was simply running interference for her friend—nothing more. She assumed her role would be to keep Mr. Harris occupied while she and Brandon became more acquainted. This was not a date. It was just a favor. This is what she told herself as she got dressed at home. This is what she told herself as she applied her M•A•C makeup, her best dress, and her best heels.

  “This is not a date. This is just a few people going out to dinner. It’s a free meal.”