by Ada Scott
A lump formed in my throat, possibly made out of the last remnants of my illusions about the way my first time was supposed to be. None of that mattered anymore. I had a job to do. I swallowed it away, cleared my throat and stood to retrieve my own carry-on.
I clutched my bag against my body like a shield, lost in my own world and trying to ignore the way everybody was looking at me. The men’s eyes darted all over my body. The women’s eyes did too, but they were narrowed angrily and darted back and forth between me and their partners.
I wasn’t used to this kind of attention. Growing up on the farm, I’d never really thought much about the kind of working-over Ada’s team gave me. Every square inch of my body, and I mean every square inch, had been fussed over by an expert in their field.
It was all part of the package for the winning bidder, to have the perfect sex object delivered to them. Ada explained it was also for me, to help boost my confidence in what was an unavoidably nerve-wracking situation. I didn’t think it was working.
My face burned and I held my bag even tighter, staring at the heels of the person in front of me as we shuffled along the aisle towards the door. The head of the flight cabin crew was personally thanking and welcoming every passenger to New Eastport as we stepped off the plane into the mobile tunnel leading into the airport.
I welcomed the breeze that hit me from the gap between the tunnel and the side of the plane, cooling my flushed face. My thoughts drifted to the same ones that had kept me awake more and more since my auction closed.
Who was this man who had paid over a million dollars to take my virginity? What kind of a man did that?
Despite Ada’s reassurances that her clients weren’t the type that had any problems picking up women, it was hard to believe. That’s where my fears about him being an octogenarian sprang from, those quiet times at night failing to sleep.
Despite that fear, I still boarded the plane and here I was. I would do it, even that, even for a week, to save the farm.
Lost in my thoughts, I followed the flow of people from my plane through the airport to the baggage reclaim area. With a luggage trolley gripped in my hands, I staked a claim to a clear spot near the conveyor belt and waited.
It took several minutes before it started moving, and I used the time to try to remember everything from Ada’s crash course on being an IFS girl. She would have liked to spend more time preparing me, but I insisted everything happen as quickly as possible.
I had the bank’s looming deadline terrorizing me into that insistence and even so it had still been over a month and a half since my auction closed. If everything worked out, I’d be paid just in time to clear the mortgage and save the farm.
Luggage of all shapes and sizes began parading past me while I waited. I tugged the hem of my dress down and looked at the modest neckline, which barely hinted at my small chest.
For some reason, I’d expected Ada to accentuate what little I had in that department a lot more, but as usual she had a reasoned answer for everything. I wasn’t a slut, the client could have picked up one of those for a couple hundred bucks. I wasn’t a high-end escort, you could get those for a thousand or two. I wasn’t even a celebrity porn star. You could pick those up for less than five figures.
I was an IFS girl, and I was worth a record-breaking seven figures. The only girls worth that much were pure, innocent, natural beauties, and sometimes less is more.
The remembered sound of Anthony’s hand smacking Rochelle’s ass cut that train of thought off before it was in any danger of going to my head. He didn’t think I was worth much. The boyfriend before that had driven me out of school.
I sighed. One man’s trash is another man’s treasure, I supposed. Suddenly, I realized that the conveyor belt was almost devoid of luggage, and the crowd of fellow passengers was almost gone, while other planeloads gathered at other reclaim areas.
My sad and lonely suitcase bumped along and I reached out for it, before letting it go past one more time. I reached into my pocket and pulled out a jewelry-case. Inside was a simple and tasteful gold and “diamond” necklace, which was really some crazy high-tech gadget with a built in GPS and panic button.
If I was in trouble and I pressed it, apparently, the cavalry would come charging in wherever I was. They were supposed to be with me already, professionals in the background so as not to interfere with the client’s encounter as long as he didn’t do anything without my consent.
I looked around and didn’t see anybody in dark suits holding their finger against their ear and speaking into covert microphones while staring at me through sunglasses. If the client, Kris, asked me, I was supposed to say the necklace was a family heirloom and I never took it off.
My luggage came around again shortly after I’d managed to wrestle with the clasp and arrange the necklace to it was sitting nicely. Bracing myself, I heaved the heavy suitcase off the conveyor belt with a grunt.
“You need some help with that?”
I looked over at the young man who had sprung up out of nowhere as I waddled back to my trolley.
“No. No thank you,” I said, with a strained voice.
It took all of my strength to get the bag high enough to get it on, but I managed it.
“You just arrive home, or just visiting?” he asked.
“Uh, visiting.”
“Oh, really? Could I get your number? I’d could show you around or something?”
“Uh… um… well… no. Sorry, you seem nice and everything but I’m… you know… I’m with somebody else.”
I braced myself for some version of a “you think you’re too good for me or something?” insult, feeling as awkward as those dreams where you realize you’ve gone to school naked. Ada told me that for this week, I had to act as if Kris was the only man in the world. The other men were people who just kind of existed, but Kris was the only man.
She had asked me to give her an example of how I politely decline a male’s advances, because the situation might come up while I was with Kris. The look on her face would have been funny if it hadn’t been directed at me while I stammered my way through some cliché.
The truth was, I’d never really said no before. Imagine that, a virgin who never said no. I’d been in two long-term, for my age, relationships and in school everybody just kind of knows you’re with somebody so I’d basically only been asked out those two times.
The insult never came. “Oh, OK, well, have a good time. Sorry for bothering you.”
“It was no…”
He waved his hand and cut me off, already turning away. I took a deep breath and let it out slowly with my cheeks puffed up, then pushed my trolley towards the exit.
Oh my gosh, oh my gosh, oh my gosh… aaaahhhhhhh!
My nerves made it almost impossible to think of anything useful, and I leaned on the trolley as much as I could to make up for how weak I felt in the knees. The doors slid open and I paused as a spotlight hit me and crowd of people stared.
They weren’t all there for me, of course, they were there to meet their friends, family and business associates, but for a second I felt the weight of all their eyes as if they knew why I was here. The spotlight was just the setting sun, shining in through the floor-to-ceiling glass at the front of the airport terminal. I had to look down at my feet for a second before the sensation passed and I could move forward again.
After a couple of steps, I scanned the crowd. Some people were holding up signs.
Jim Smith.
Hayley Atkins – Gibraltar Conference.
Amy – IFS
My heart leapt into my throat, making an emergency dash toward my brain to throw the whole thing in reverse. Then I looked at the face above the sign, and my heart stayed where it was.
Our eyes locked and I took the last few steps towards him without even feeling the weight of the trolley or my own body. I stopped in front of him, on the other side of the temporary barrier, and looked up.
His eyes were deep-brown and set in t
he most gloriously perfect face I’d ever seen. He was sporting a hint of stubble, short enough to look professional, but visible enough that something made me want to reach out and stroke his cheek.
Even without touching him, I could imagine how that stubble would feel against my soft skin, the way it would tickle my neck if he hugged me. Maybe he had a stubble consultant the way I had a skirt-length consultant.
His broad shoulders and thick arms filled out his suit like nobody’s business, and tattoos peeked out from the collar and cuffs. It was an intoxicating contrast.
I felt so small next to him, like he could pick me up and throw me without any effort at all. I’d never encountered such a dominating presence before. If I was supposed to pretend that Kris was the only man in the world, I was in trouble.
“Um… hi? I’m Amy. Are you the… driver?” I spoke as quietly as I could, not wanting anybody else to hear our exchange.
The corner of his mouth raised a little. “No. I’m Kris.”
Whaaaaat?
I blinked, and bit my tongue on the suggested response from the voice in my head. “Oh! I’m Amy… uh… I said that already… well… sorry… it’s nice to meet you.”
Great first impression!
That wasn’t the exact wording I’d been practicing, but it was all I had. I watched my hand reach up towards him as if it belonged to somebody else.
It was absurd to think I was in a position to touch him. He was the kind of guy you might giggle about with your friends as he passed you on his way to his private jet, living in a whole other league of existence.
What he saw in little old me, I had no idea, but Ada said that it was important to initiate physical contact as soon as possible. I had to let the client know that it was OK to touch me, that I wanted him to get close to me.
I touched his neck, then curled my fingers around and pulled myself up to the tips of my toes. He bent down stiffly and let me plant a timid little kiss on his cheek. His stubble was every bit as tingly as I thought it would be against my lips, and he smelled like a cross between heaven and hard work.
“Really nice to meet you,” I repeated.
Kris
When the doors slid open I nearly forgot how to breathe. She stood there with those blue eyes wide open, catching the setting sun at just the right angle to make them look like they glowed with supernatural beauty.
I’d seen gorgeous women before. I’d seen women who turned every head in the room before. Hell, even Cindy turned heads that night I first laid eyes on Amy’s picture.
What I hadn’t seen before was a girl so beautiful that it made me ache to not be touching her. Maybe it was the month and a half of abstinence, but every flutter of her eyelash, curve of her face, the way her blonde hair bounced and the movement of her body almost physically pulled me to her.
Amy’s eyes shot down as if she didn’t know what to do with herself, and her youthful inexperience shone through. She was fucking adorable, and my two million plus dollars were in serious trouble.
I was immeasurably thankful for the few steps she took while looking at her feet, since it gave me a chance to regroup. By the time she looked up again, I felt more or less in charge of myself, but watching her move wasn’t easy by any stretch of the imagination.
Her eyes caught the sign I was holding and then travelled up to meet my gaze. I could almost hear a click when our eyes locked. Fireworks could have gone off next to me and I wouldn’t have turned to look at them.
The closer she stepped, the clearer it became how petite she was. She was lucky I was going to hold back this week, or I might break her in half. If I slid myself between those legs…
I swallowed as discreetly as I could and mentally shook myself while she stammered her way through an introduction and asked if I was the driver.
“No. I’m Kris.”
“Oh! I’m Amy… uh… I said that already… well… sorry… it’s nice to meet you.”
She reached up and her thumb stroked my cheek before her fingers curled around the back of my neck and she pulled herself up on the tips of her toes. Even then she wasn’t tall enough to reach me, so I bent down and she gave me the softest kiss the world had ever seen on my cheek.
“Really nice to meet you,” she said.
Those lips. They were the stuff dreams were made of. I wanted to push her down to her knees and feed my hard cock past them, feel their velvet softness all around my shaft as her throat caressed the head… fucking hell.
“Nice to meet you too, Amy. We’re parked that way.” I pointed. “So head in that direction and I’ll help you with that cart.”
Amy nodded. “OK.”
We walked parallel to each other, each of us spending just as much time looking at the other as we were looking where we were going. I met her where the barrier ended and took over pushing the cart for her, putting my sign in the little wire basket.
“Good flight?” I asked.
“Yeah, it was fine. Um… are you sure you’re Kris?”
“Reasonably sure, yeah. They didn’t tell you anything about me?”
“No, I was pretty sure you were a man, but that’s all,” she said.
“Guilty as charged. What were you expecting?” I asked.
She blushed a little, not the deep red of cataclysmic embarrassment, but enough to show the sincerity of her underlying nerves. They weren’t lying when they said it was innocence for sale.
“Something,” she paused, her eyes rolling up as if searching for the right words in her head. “Not as nice as you.”
I grinned at her and the hopeful little smile on her own face blossomed into something angelic. It was hard to believe there were really women like her roaming around the world, untouched by man.
My driver, Bernard, saw us coming and stepped out of the car to open the back door, greeting the two of us with supreme professionalism. Once she was safely in the car, he took control of the luggage cart, wheeling it to the trunk, and I followed Amy into the back seat.
The way she watched me enter the car made it clear she was wondering if I was going to jump on top of her straight away and fuck her while we drove home. Her hands were braced on the seat and she didn’t relax until I sat down on the opposite side to her right and put my seatbelt on. Even so, she was still tense.
Bernard shut the door behind us, hopped in the front on the other side of the soundproof glass, and we were on the move in a jiffy. Amy seemed to be wracking her brain for something to say.
“Don’t worry, relax,” I said. “You’re safe, you’re great. We don’t need to rush anything.”
She sighed, and unwound a little bit. “OK, thanks. I’m sorry, it’s just so… weird. I’ve never done this before. Obviously.”
“What made you decide to do it now?” I asked.
“Well… I’ve got my reasons.”
“Oh, very coy. You ever been to New Eastport before?”
She shook her head.
“I’ve been here for ten years now, it’s longer than I’ve lived anywhere else, so I suppose it’s home.”
I spent the rest of the car ride pointing out a few landmarks and giving her a bit of trivia about the place, and she relaxed even more as the journey progressed. The nerves did seem to return a little when we pulled into my building’s parking garage.
Bernard dropped us off by the elevator and I waved away his offer to carry the bags. Amy followed me into the elevator and smoothed out her dress a little after catching a glimpse of herself in the mirrored walls.
She caught me looking at her legs, which her dress showed off wonderfully, and bit her bottom lip. I averted my eyes to the floor-readout when I felt my cock twitch in my pants.
The doors opened to a private hallway leading to the door of my penthouse suite. I lifted the bags again and made sure the bigger one was between us as we walked.
“Do you own this or rent?” she asked as we reached the door.
“I’ve got it on a five-year lease. I didn’t want to buy the plac
e, but I didn’t want the hassle of being told I had to move unexpectedly either.”
I pushed the door open and gestured for her to lead the way before picking up her bags again. She walked ahead slowly as if stepping through a portal into another world.
“Wow.” Her head turned in every direction, taking it all in, then she rushed over to the window to look down on the city nightscape. “Look at this view!”
I’d seen what it looked like out those windows countless times, I was more interested in the girl standing in front of them. She turned back and saw me watching her, then took a deep breath and walked slowly in my direction.
“Your room’s this way,” I said, backing off before she got to me.
“OK.”
Amy followed me to the room I’d had prepared for her, the furthest one from my room in the whole suite. I put her large suitcase down on the ground, and the smaller one on the bed itself.
When I turned around, Amy was right there. She placed her hands on my chest and then moved them to my sides as she stepped in close. She looked up at me with wide-eyed innocence and expectation.
I licked my lips and cleared my throat. “Take it easy, we’ve got all week. I don’t know how far exactly you’ve come, so take some time to freshen up if you want. This room has an en suite bathroom there.”
“Really?”
“Yeah, of course. Take some time to yourself and we can have some dinner in half an hour.”
“Well… OK. Sure.”
Amy
Kris backed away from me, then circled around my suitcase to the door and closed it behind him, leaving me alone in the most luxurious bedroom I’d ever seen. When he’d said “Your room’s this way” my mind had interpreted it as “Our room’s this way” but, despite all the expensive comforts, this room lacked any signs of being lived in. It really was my room.
The carpet felt so wonderfully soft under my feet after I kicked my shoes off. I took my phone out of my bag and returned a message from my mom, who thought I was away for a week visiting a sick friend, then plugged it in to charge and turned on the temporary phone Ada had given me for the week.