by Velvet Veers
"If it wasn't for the principle of the thing, I'd let her have the damn money.” Richard sighed and ran a hand through his hair in frustration.
"You were always the pushover. Just because you've made your own fortune separate from your deceased wife's doesn't mean you need to just give away that kind of money. She'll never stop badgering you if you give in. No amount of money will ever be enough for Rachel."
Richard smiled at Dustin's perception. He held up his mug of frothy beer and clicked on Dustin's. “Here is to your logical, brilliant, legal mind. Thank God you're on my side."
Dustin leaned across the table and whispered, “Buddy, I saw that redhead eyeing you. Have you been dating anyone?"
"No. I'm just not interested."
"It's been awhile now, bud, and you need to get back on track. The longer you stay off the horse, the harder it is to get back on. The problem is your pipes are all plugged and you can't think straight. You need to get out on the freeway, top speed, and blow that carburetor out. Or better yet, have that sweet red-head blow it out for you."
Richard laughed heartily. “You think so, do you?"
"I'm damn sure of it. Seriously, I know a great girl you'd dig—a vixen. How about I fix the two of you up?"
Richard balked. “I don't know if that is such a good idea. You know Rachel is not quite ... stable. I'm worried at the stunts she might pull if she saw me out with someone."
"My God, this is the twenty-first century, not the nineteenth. People don't go into hiding or wear black for a year.” He gave Richard a sweep of his eyes and gestured with his head, noting Richard's all-black attire. “Or haven't you heard?"
"I'm just going through my teenage black phase. I missed it the first time around."
Dustin laughed. “Well, that's good news, and here I thought it was for a different reason. I'll give Darlene a call tomorrow. Is Friday night good for you?"
"I ... I guess so."
* * * *
Friday night Richard knocked at the door of an upper middle-class home in the suburb of Minneapolis. A blonde bombshell wearing a short, tight, red dress answered, flashing him a big, sweet smile.
Dustin knows how to pick women.
They went to an Italian restaurant with enough ambiance to put anyone in the mood for love. Italian love songs played through the speakers, and violinist serenaded them personally. Richard ordered some expensive Monto Blanc to take the edge off his nervousness. He felt like a kid trying to ride a bike without training wheels for the first time.
Darlene wasn't much of a conversationalist. She sat and stared at him with goo-goo eyes and giggled a lot, as if expecting him to provide her entertainment for the evening. She worked as a paralegal at Dustin's office, and from the content of the small bit she did contribute to the conversation, her job was her life and her raison d'être. At least she had a pleasant voice, but the more she drank, the more she giggled non-stop. He had intentions of shutting her up in a little while anyway.
From the minute she opened her door to him with those fuck-me eyes, he knew she wanted sex ... and he was just the man to give it to her. He figured she probably would've been happier if he'd taken her straight to bed. Then they wouldn't have to endure the awkwardness of the evening, which only served now as a prelude of things to come—a little sensual pre-foreplay.
Who cares about conversation?
They drove back to Darlene's apartment and she invited him up. The gentlemanly thing to do was see her to the door, at the very least. Right?
Once inside, she pulled on his tie and brought him closer to her. The scent of her perfume wafted up, and he inhaled deeper. The olfactory sense, they say, is the strongest link to sexual attraction, he remembered with detachment. Beneath the perfume, she carried the deep scent of female—a smooth, silky scent he wanted to drink.
Darlene stood on her tiptoes, pulling his lips down to meet hers. She ran her tongue slowly around his lips, placing her mouth firmly on his. Richard took in a mint-flavored tang, enjoying the feel of her hot tongue on his mouth. It had been so long and his libido instantly came out of hiding.
He drew her closer still and she rubbed her chest against his. He could feel the moan escape her throat. Slowly he began to unzip that tight red dress. At the bottom of the zipper, he moved his hands lower to cradle her butt and pull her closer into him. She settled in nicely, rubbing herself against his manhood in an invitation for more.
Richard moved his hands back up her sides, raking his thumbs over the side of her breast and up to the top of her dress. He slowly uncovered her shoulders and kissed his way down her neck, following the exposure of skin. The dress fell to the floor and Darlene stepped out of it.
In a gruff, lust-laced voice, he said, “Stand back and let me look at you."
She moved away from him and he took in the seductive picture she made. He stared at her see-thru red bra and saw her big, round areolas begging to be unleashed. Moving his gaze downward, he took in the red lace garter belt holding up hose, and the barely-there red underwear that matched.
Richard licked his lips, ready to dive in, but he reminded himself to go slowly. “You are beautiful, Darlene."
She just giggled, but he didn't seem to mind as much at this moment. He watched her bring down her bra strap one at a time. Undoing the clasp holding it in place, she let it fall so he could see the whole picture at once. His shaft jerked in response to the vision of loveliness in front of him.
Darlene moved her hands over her breasts, cupping them together, then releasing them, running her hands down slowly over her stomach. She undid her right garter hook, then reached around the back and took off the second hook. Slowly she ran her hands down her leg, carrying the hose with her. She watched him as she repeated the action for her left leg. She stood up and crooked her finger at him in a come-hither motion to join her.
He moved close enough for her to remove his tie and unbutton his shirt. While she pulled his shirttail from his pants, he gave her a thorough kiss, sliding his tongue into her mouth, just like he'd be sliding his penis in her wet cave soon.
Darlene raked her fingernails over his chest, nipples and back while she removed his shirt. The scratching sensations made his skin burn with desire. As the shirt hit the floor, she grabbed his ass with her hands and rubbed herself against his bare chest. Her fingers moved to the front of his pants, unzipped them, slid both underwear and pants down over his thighs, and raked her nails slowly down his legs.
His erection hit her stomach hard and she etched her nails across it making it jump. She giggled. It sounded like music to his ears now.
"Let's go to the bedroom,” Darlene said, and grabbed his hand to lead him down the hall. Richard watched her tight butt sway, the garters slapping her thighs.
She lay on the bed and he placed a knee on the edge and ran his hands up her legs to the little panties and garter belt covering her, pulling them down and off with a quick jerk. Crawling up over her body, he stopped and sucked on a breast, grabbing the bud in his mouth and tugging. Darlene scraped his back with her nails, settling her legs around him with her heels over his calves.
He'd forgotten how damn good this felt. He moved down to kiss her stomach and then to her nub, breathing hard against her hot pussy. She bucked at his exploration then moaned with delight. He licked, sucked, and titillated until he could feel her tighten her legs around him to hold his head in place. Richard stuck his finger in her vagina moving it in and out as he lapped her clitoris with his tongue. He felt it swell with each lick, growing larger and fuller until her muscles tightened and she shoved his head into her hard, rising up and screaming with her release.
Richard moved up into position to insert his needy penis into her wet canal. But the moment the head hit her vagina and he looked into her eyes, his penis withered like a wilted raisin. He'd never lost a hard-on in his life, but there it was in his hand—limp as a dead fish. He rolled over and lay on the bed with his arm over his eyes.
Darlene took it in st
ride and slithered down his body to place his limp noodle in her mouth, as desperate as if she were doing artificial resuscitation to bring it back to life. She sucked expertly and blood pumped back into it full force. She climbed on top of him to place it in her, only to have it wither again—in her hand this time.
Shit!
She moved off him and lay down on the bed.
"What can I say? This has never happened to me before."
"It's okay. It happens."
"Not to me."
He climbed off the bed and dressed, letting himself out of the apartment without a word.
CHAPTER 2
Tonight, Erica McClure would be escorting one Mr. Richard Wakefield to a charity benefit. It had been a long time since the escort service she worked for, Companionship, Inc., had assigned her to someone new. Erica had been working for the company for almost three years now and had established regulars who requested her. She liked it that way—no ties and no romance.
But tonight felt different. She'd never met this man, although she felt the same excitement and anticipation as when she'd been dating. She'd gone shopping at the Mall of America and purchased a new dress to look and feel special for the evening. It didn't matter if she was being silly. No one would ever know but her. Maybe it had been way too long since she'd had a real date and tonight would be like dressing up when she was a little girl. Tonight was a job—no more a real date than any of her other escort gigs at Companionship, Inc. But she could always pretend and make up stories to bring more excitement into her life just like when she was a little girl.
Erica remembered vividly the day she went from being that little girl to a full-fledged woman. She'd bloomed from the gawky, knobby-kneed, pigeon-toed kid to the voluptuous girl that suddenly gave all her old male friends cricks in their necks. She awkwardly found herself the center of attention at the school dances, never able to sit down for one boy breaking in on another to dance with Erica.
The night she danced with Evan, her high school sweetheart, was the first night she became aware of her womanhood, and all the juicy thrills that went with it. She'd been warned appropriately of all the things that teenage boys would do to try to get into her pants, but no one had ever told her that she'd have to resist the desire to plunge her hand into theirs and play with something that Erica had previously always considered a gross malformation.
Erica remembered spending every waking minute longing to “do it” with Evan. Of course, she resisted, like the good little girl she was expected to be. But after two years of holding him off and getting hornier by the moment, Erica seduced him in her own bedroom when her parents left for the weekend.
She'd planned it for weeks—just the right music, just the right royal blue dress, just the right moment, and just the perfect guy. He had no idea what she'd been planning. He showed up with the research material for the science project, and Erica told him that she'd changed the theme to An Anatomical Journey for the Blind, and that she needed to don a blindfold and study him—by the Braille method.
Evan stripped down at her command, blushing wildly as she donned her Tonto mask (with a peephole). Touching his face first, she let her hands trail lower, quickly skimming his abdomen until she reached his penis, clenching it firmly with her hand, then plucked the tip with her thumb as drops of hot liquid squeezed out. His breath grew heavy, and he begged her to keep going.
She pumped him for a while, then pulled off her mask, removed her clothes and lay on top of him, sliding his hot dick straight up her canal. She felt her vaginal muscles clench him, squeezing and releasing his penis in ecstasy. Erica had never felt so good, so hot and now she knew what it felt like to lust—to burn up until you felt that male fullness. She never wanted to go one day of her life without this exquisite pleasure.
Evan bucked up into her, his face red-hot and his body out of control. She rode him hard, then felt the tidal wave coming—that blissful first climax she would always remember as life's perfect elixir. Everything inside her had waited for this day, this moment. Evan released his hot liquid into her, yelling and grabbing at her like an out-of-control wildcat. Then she kissed him, just like they always did after their Friday night date.
Now it was another time and another royal blue dress highlighting Erica's violet eyes, dipping down to reveal more well-defined cleavage than she normally felt comfortable with. The back fell bare to the waist. The slit up the side ran all the way to the top of her thigh, showing a shapely, muscled leg with every stride. The dress would knock him dead, she hoped.
Erica had made up her mind to seduce Richard Wakefield if he appeared the least bit interested in her. It had been a three-year dry spell and her loneliness won out over the Companionship, Inc. rules against having sex with clients. Even though her former husband still had her dead set against the male species in general—at least for long-term relationship prospects—she knew all men weren't as superficial as he. The jerk had left her because he couldn't deal with their precious baby being handicapped.
Well, screw him if he can't see how special Charlie is.
Hearing the whirl of the motorized wheelchair, Erica turned around to see her darling Charlie racing down the hall. She turned to face him. “Ta-da! What do you think?"
Charlie grinned wide, his eyes sparkling. “Momma, you look like a princess."
She walked over and planted a kiss on the top of his head. “Thanks, sweetie. It's time to take you to Mrs. Pentrose's apartment. Are you ready?"
"Yeah. She said she rented a couple videos for us to watch."
Charlie backed up his wheelchair then sped down the hall toward the door. Erica followed closely and walked behind him to Mrs. Pentrose's apartment. Charlie had already knocked on the door and rolled inside when Erica arrived.
"Hi, Ms. McClure. My, you look lovely tonight,” Mrs. Pentrose said in her sweet, little, singsong voice.
"Thanks. Making popcorn for the movie marathon?"
"Yeah. I found some movies I think Charlie will like. Of course, he's probably seen them all, fan that he is of films."
"Probably so.” She sighed. “He is a TV addict, I'm afraid. I'll be home really late tonight. Is that okay?
"Why don't you just let Charlie spend the night with me tonight? We can have a slumber party."
"Could I, Momma? Please."
Erica frowned, then smiled at the two of them. Even though Mrs. Pentrose was almost fifty-five, she never ceased to amaze Erica at the energy and fun-filled life she created for herself. “Okay, you two. If you're sure you don't mind?” Erica directed the question to Mrs. Pentrose.
"We'll have a grand adventure. Now you go or you'll be late."
"I have my cell phone with me at all times if you need to reach me for any reason. Charlie's medicine is in his bag."
"Don't worry about us. We'll be fine. You just have a good time.” Mrs. Pentrose shooed Erica out the door.
"I hope to. ‘Bye, Charlie.” Erica blew him a kiss, but he was already engrossed in his Indiana Jones movie.
The drive took thirty minutes to get to the building downtown where the charity event was being held. A little nervous, she double-checked her appearance before she exited the car and walked from the parking garage to the crowded entrance.
* * * *
Richard couldn't believe he stood in the lobby of the Ramada Inn in downtown Minneapolis, waiting for his escort to arrive. Why hadn't he just gone to this stupid banquet alone? Now he had to be nice, smile and make friendly conversation with someone he'd never even met. He knew the answer to his own question, but that didn't make any difference now. In his line of business, appearance was everything and being without the proper date at a function this elaborate was inappropriate and just plain strange.
And he'd be damned before he'd put himself in another situation like the Darlene affair. The escort service, Companionship, Inc., was the perfect solution.
Richard saw the gorgeous knockout enter the room. She really wasn't his type at all, but something about
her made him notice. Her short black hair and pale skin made a striking combination, and with that shapely figure—Wow, who wouldn't notice?
Mesmerized, he watched her seductive walk as she moved closer to him. Richard twirled the red rose between his fingers faster and faster as she approached. He didn't notice his nervous gesture, so engrossed was he with that sway nearing him.
Stopping in front of him, she asked, “Are you Richard Wakefield?"
He started to speak but nothing came out, then he cleared his throat and tried again. “Yes,” he croaked.
She extended her hand for him to take, “My name is Erica McClure, and I'm to be your escort this evening."
Her voice was deep, seductive, and made him think of raw, hard sex. He envisioned them naked in bed with those muscled thighs wrapped around him, her telling him just what she wanted him to do to her in that low sexy voice.
Trying to be suave and not gape anymore than he already had, he finally handed her the rose. “I'm glad you're here. I hate standing around alone. Shall we go inside?"
"Certainly. You know, I hate standing around alone, too.” She took his arm in the crook of hers, walking beside him like they were old friends reunited.
He looked at her out of the corner of his eyes. “I wouldn't think a woman as beautiful as you would ever be alone."
She laughed, low and very feminine. “You are so kind."
Richard placed his hand on her back and touched bare skin. He hadn't expected to make contact with warm, soft skin. Making a conscious effort not to move his hands to roam her back took all the will power he possessed.
God, it feels good to touch a woman's skin again.
* * * *
They mingled with people who were acquaintances of Richard's. This was not her normal crowd, but a very upscale version of the rich and famous. Richard seemed to fit right into the atmosphere, suave and debonair. She was curious about him and what he did for a living. But the opportunity hadn't presented itself for them to get to know each other, one on one.