by Bonnie Dee
“Nice and easy,” Travis murmured, stroking Monica’s clit and driving a finger into her pussy.
Monica’s ass clenched at the feeling of Ryan’s entry. She squeezed hard around his fingers but rocked back onto them, wanting more. He applied more of the cool jelly to her rear until he could slide several fingers in and out, stretching her more with each plunge.
Meanwhile, Travis stroked her face, kissed her jaw and told her she was a sweet, beautiful girl. He moved in close, his broad chest against her face and his cock probing her pussy. She was so wet and ready that his generous girth slid in easily.
She moaned at the sensation of being filled so completely.
Then behind her something much wider than Ryan’s fingers pushed into her other entrance and drove inside in slow increments. She gasped at the stretching, burning sensation as she stretched around him.
“Fuck, this is so tight. So tight,” Ryan grunted.
Travis stayed embedded inside her, unmoving, while Ryan pushed into her ass. Their hot bodies cradled her and she whimpered at the extreme feeling of being utterly filled. She felt like the intense blue glow in the very heart of a flame.
“I’m afraid to hurt her,” Ryan murmured to Travis. “I haven’t done this before.”
“Go slow and she’ll be fine.”
Monica gripped Travis’s shoulders as Ryan withdrew from inside her. Then he entered her again, pushing even deeper and she cried out. He stopped moving immediately.
“You want me to quit?”
“God, no! Keep going. Fuck me.”
He gave a hungry groan at her command and began to move in and out of her.
Travis moved too, very slowly pumping in and out of her pussy, timing his thrusts to Ryan’s. When one invaded, the other receded. She was never completely empty as one man or the other possessed her. Her whole body tingled as she was surrounded by male flesh. Hands caressing her, lips on her face and neck, two swollen cocks pumping into her.
Their grunts and groans grew in intensity as both Travis and Ryan began to lose themselves, plunging into her with less care and more abandon. Monica wouldn’t deny it hurt a little, especially the burning in her rear, but the discomfort became pleasure, mingling and balancing until pain was pleasure.
“Oh, baby. Damn. Fuck!” Travis began to move faster as he approached climax. The men were out of sync now and sometimes plunged simultaneously, their cocks nearly touching inside her, only a thin wall of tissue separating them. Her body throbbed with the intensity of the dual penetration and her own orgasm began to swell. So much intensity, such a deep and satisfying feeling of being filled. She moaned and bit into Travis’s sweat-slicked chest as their three bodies tangled together, flesh slapping flesh.
Ryan’s body stilled and he murmured her name as he released. Sandwiched between the two men Monica trembled on the brink of the precipice. And then she fell over the edge, crying out her release into Travis’s chest. She had never been rocked so hard in her life or so completely fulfilled.
Travis cursed as he rammed her violently. “Christ. Fuck. Jesus,” he groaned as his cock pulsed inside her.
And then it was over, all three of them shuddering and gasping for breath as they recovered.
After a moment Travis started to laugh. “Whoo-ee! That was something.” He withdrew from inside Monica and lay back on the bed.
“Sorry. I got carried away,” she said, gazing at the ring of teeth marks marring his chest. Behind her, Ryan slowly disengaged and almost immediately she missed his warmth at her back.
After drawing a few more deep breaths, Travis rose and went to her bathroom to discard the used condom. “I’m gonna get something from the kitchen. You want anything? Water?”
“There’s bottled water in the fridge,” Monica said. “Thanks.”
After he’d left, Ryan drew Monica against him once more, spooning her back and kissing her neck. “Was that okay for you? Not too intense?”
“Unbelievable. I’ve never felt anything so... It was everything I imagined only more real.”
“Good. That’s what we’re here for, to make you happy.”
“Happy,” she repeated sleepily, trailing her fingers up and down his forearm.
“You like Travis?” he asked.
“I like everybody. I’m flying so high.”
Ryan chuckled.
Travis returned with water and Monica chugged an entire bottle. She lay back down with the two men stretched out on either side of her. Her body felt bruised and used, but in a good way, as if she’d had a strenuous workout. Cocooned between two hot bodies, Monica drifted into sleep.
*
An hour later Travis’s voice jerked her awake. “Well, Ms. Monica. I’m afraid I have to be going. I’ve got some things to do.”
“You don’t want a slumber party?” she mumbled.
“I’d love to, but I can’t stay.” Travis kissed her mouth. “I had a wonderful time. Don’t worry about getting up. I’ll let myself out.”
“Later, man,” Travis said to Ryan and left the bedroom. After she heard the front door close, Monica gave a small sigh of relief. She was kind of glad he was gone. She felt a little headache coming on and her mouth was cottony. It had been a wild and wonderful experience, but now that it was over she wanted to lie peacefully with Ryan. She turned to face him and wrapped her arm around his waist.
“You were late tonight,” she said. “I missed you.”
“Yeah, sorry. I got caught up in some stuff.” He was silent a moment. “So you like Travis okay?”
“He’s very nice.”
He rubbed circles with his palm on her lower back. “Maybe you’ll want to ask for him next time.”
She looked up at him sharply. “Why?”
“I’m getting kind of busy and won’t be able to come any more.”
“Oh.” Monica’s heart plummeted. Just as she’d thought, Ryan could tell she was getting too attached to him. He was cutting her off, and it didn’t matter that she’d intended this to be her last time anyway. It still hurt. “Travis is, uh, good at what he does.”
“You know, maybe you should think about trying to meet someone who ... you’re not paying. You’re an amazing woman and you sell yourself short.”
“Thanks. I’ll take that into consideration.” Monica’s warm, fuzzy haze was dissipating rapidly. Her nerve endings were still in overdrive, but her ‘I love the world’ vibe was quickly dying at Ryan’s reserved tone.
“You deserve more,” he continued. “You need to get back into the world and develop a real relationship with someone.”
She thought of her losing it at the shower today and realized Ryan had no clue what life was like for her. Besides, who was he to be giving her love advice?
“Look, I didn’t hire you to be my therapist. I already have one.” She pulled away from him and sat up, dragging the sheet up to cover her breasts. “I’m well aware that hiring a date is severely fucked up. I don’t need advice from a... From you.” The words trembled in the air between them and although Monica hadn’t said “whore” the implication was there.
She glanced at Ryan. His always transparent expression flashed anger and hurt. Then, like someone drawing a drape across a window, his eyes grew shuttered, his face as blank as a clean sheet of paper.
“You’re right,” he said evenly. “How you conduct your affairs is not my business. I’m sorry.”
She reached out to touch his arm. “Ryan, I didn’t mean—”
“No. You’re right,” he repeated. “I don’t know anything about what your condition is like. It’s not my place to offer my opinion.” He threw the covers back and got out of bed.
“If we’re finished here, I’d like to go.” His voice had never sounded so cold, not even when playacting her rape fantasy.
“I’m sorry. Please don’t leave angry.” She didn’t want her time with him to end this way, with harsh words and hard feelings.
“I’m not angry, just clear on some things. Goodbye,
Monica.”
For a moment she thought he was going to shake her hand, business concluded. Then he stalked out the door.
“Wait.” She scrambled out of bed to follow him, but before she could disentangle herself from the sheet, the front door closed. He must have fled the house half dressed. She hurried to the living room where discarded margarita glasses were the only sign of the night’s activities.
Head pounding, Monica sat on the couch and began to cry. An empty, hollow feeling swept through her. It was worse than the dull numbness she’d been living with before Ryan. Whoever said “Better to have loved and lost” didn’t know shit. Her heart was breaking even though Ryan had never technically been hers to love. In their brief times together she’d begun to feel deeply connected with him, but it had all been her imagination. Now she must suffer the consequence of believing in her own fantasy--loneliness.
Amber, who had been hiding all evening, jumped onto the couch and sniffed her teary cheek. Monica gathered the cat into her arms and hugged her, burying her face in soft fur and crying until Amber wiggled out of her arms and ran away.
She didn’t know if she could bear returning to her solitary life. Even if she began leaving the house again and trying to rejoin the world, without Ryan she would still be alone in her heart.
*
A block away from Monica’s house, Ryan pulled over and sat with the engine idling feeling like a shirtless, shoeless ass. He’d fled from Monica’s house like a little boy who’d been scolded and had run away from home, barely taking the time to pull on jeans before bolting through the front door.
Her unspoken word had cut deep. Whore. Of course that’s all he was to her and she was right, he had no business offering advice about her life or how she dealt with her agoraphobia.
From the moment he’d entered the house and seen Monica with Travis, Ryan had felt a slow burn of anger, jealousy and frustration he’d not expected. Maybe it was because of his stressful day and rushing in late, but he came into the situation unprepared for how it would make him feel. He’d had a strong urge to punch Travis in the face for touching his woman.
He’d recovered from the stab of jealousy and participated in Monica’s fantasy with admittedly a lot of enjoyment, but after the bliss of orgasm evaporated, his sour mood resumed. He didn’t want Monica to continue with Labors of Love, calling Travis or anyone besides Ryan for sex. And despite what he’d advised, he really didn’t want her meeting some nice guy and dating him either.
Ryan slammed his hands on the steering wheel in frustration. The entire experiment in prostitution had been a huge mistake and falling for Monica, the biggest error in judgment of all. Now he must gather up the shreds of his pride and his wounded heart and carry on with life. Ryan put the car in gear and with one last glance in his rearview mirror, drove away from Monica’s street for the last time.
Chapter Eleven
Over the next two weeks, Monica slowly sloughed off her depression and came back to life. She was proud of herself that she didn’t allow the loss of Ryan to drive her back into housebound mode. She went out every day to work in her garden and even attempted another foray into the larger world, going to a dress shop with Lisa to find something to wear to Barb’s wedding. They didn’t go to the mall with its teaming crowds, but to a small shop. Monica hadn’t found a dress she liked and decided to stick with the blue one she already owned, but the trip was well worth the effort for boosting her confidence.
Monica began to enjoy daily walks through her quiet neighborhood. Most of her neighbors were retirees who had tiny emerald lawns and perfectly manicured landscaping that made her bushes seem shaggy by comparison.
One day as she walked along the sidewalk toward her house, she passed her nearest neighbor, Mrs. Ridge, out pruning her hedges. The gray-haired paused in her cutting long enough to greet her. “Hello.”
“Hi, Mrs. Ridge. Your yard’s looking great.”
“Thank you. I have some gardens I need to thin. If you’d like some bulbs, let me know.”
“I will.” Monica smiled.
“It’s good to see you out and about, dear. Maybe you could stop over for tea some time.”
“I’d like that.” She walked on to her own yard, dead-heading faded spring flowers along the path and thought about how a person interacting with others was like a pebble thrown in a pond, sending ripples that went far beyond the original point of impact. Perhaps Mrs. Ridge was lonely and eager for companionship. Monica could be giving back to the world simply by sharing a cup of tea with her. She’d never thought about the fact that there was something a bit selfish about keeping aloof. Her elderly neighbor provided yet another good reason for emerging from her shell.
Monica pulled a bundle of mail from her box and began sorting it as she walked through the front door. Between the junk mail, bills and payments for some of her articles, she found her credit card statement. She dropped the rest of the mail on the hall table and opened the envelope, anxious to see the damages inflicted by Labors of Love. She’d known it was going to be bad and had avoided checking her account online.
There were charges for household supplies, restaurant take-out orders, the normal expenses of her life. And there were the charges for Labors of Love escort service. But something wasn’t right. Her first date with Ryan had been reflected on the previous month’s bill so the other times they’d met, including the double expense of the ménage encounter, should be there. Yet there was only a date corresponding to the night Ryan had enacted her rape fantasy. Where were the other charges?
Monica stared at the bill for several minutes then reached for her cell phone.
“Good afternoon. You’ve reached Labors of Love. How may we help you make your dating dream come true?”
“Hello. I recently received my statement and I’m not sure the charges from your agency are accurate.”
“Let me transfer you to billing, ma’am.”
There was a pause while canned music played then a new voice came on the line. “May I help you?”
“My statement appears to be missing several charges.” Not that I’m so anxious to pay them. She gave the dates and was told there was no record of appointments or charges incurred on those days. Her mind raced and she asked to be transferred back to the receptionist.
“May I set up an appointment with Ryan H.?” Last names weren’t used at Labors of Love and Ryan had never mentioned his.
“He is no longer available. What kind of escort do you need? I can make a recommendation based on your specific requirements,” the receptionist offered smoothly.
“No. I need Ryan. I mean, I need to know about… Are you saying he doesn’t work there any more or that he’s not available to me? And if he has quit, can you tell me how long ago?”
“I’m afraid that information is confidential.”
“Please, I’m simply trying to figure out something. Can’t you at least tell me how long he worked there?”
There was a pause before the woman replied in a more human tone, “Ryan was only employed for a little over two weeks.”
“Thank you.” Monica wanted to pester for more information, but knew she’d already pushed her luck. The receptionist would not give her a last name or an address, but at least she had Ryan’s cell phone number. She hung up and stared at her phone, thinking. Ryan had come to her two times on his own. He came because he wanted to. He came because he liked being with her. He liked her!
She bit her bottom lip and dialed the cell number Ryan had given her, the one she’d come close to calling so many times over the past days. It only rang twice before a mechanical voice came on to tell her she’d reached a number that was no longer in service.
“Damn!” Monica thought a moment then dialed Labors of Love again.
“Good afternoon. You’re reached—”
“It’s me again. Look, I know it’s against protocol and confidentiality, but you have to help me, please. I need to know Ryan’s last name. I had his personal number but I
’ve lost it and I absolutely need to reach him.” She knew how desperate and stalkery she sounded. It was exactly this kind of creepy behavior from which the agency was protecting its providers.
“I’m sorry. I’m afraid I can’t help you. There are strict policies.”
“Yes, I know, but you don’t understand. This is different.” Oh God, she must sound like a lovesick loony. “If you can’t tell me his name, could I at least email a message for him and you could forward it?” A thought suddenly struck her and she collected herself, trying to sound sane and calm. “Never mind. I wonder if I could make an appointment with Travis instead.”
There was a very long pause and Monica thought she could hear the receptionist’s doubt in the silence. “I’ll check.” Almost immediately the woman replied, “No. It appears Travis is booked for the next several weeks. I can’t help you.” The line went dead.
Monica hung up, frustration boiling through her. There had to be a way to reach Ryan. From all the signs, it appeared he liked her and had really wanted to be with her all those times. What else could it mean? Except if he was interested, if he cared, why hadn’t he said something? And why had Travis also performed without pay?
She thought back over their time together, dissecting every moment, every gesture and nuance of Ryan’s voice, but didn’t find anything except affection and caring. He liked her. That was the only possible motivation for those uncharged assignations. And he hadn’t let her know how he felt because...?
She thought about the last time they spoke, how she’d snapped at him I don’t need advice from a... The words rang in her head and she recalled Ryan’s flinch before his expression became neutral. My God, she had hurt him. He had been trying to be nice by introducing her to Travis because he knew he wasn’t going to be available anymore and she had shamed him. Damn, why hadn’t he simply told her earlier that he was interested? It would have made everything so much easier. But then she realized it was because of how they’d met. Ryan believed she was looking for no-strings sexual entertainment so he’d tried to give her only that even as he began to feel something for her. And she’d been too insecure to imagine he might actually like her. What a blind pair of fools.