Adventures of a London Call Boy (9 page)

Chapter Twenty-three

J. was a perfect customer.

She was regular, discreet and wealthy. She paid up on time, and she was able to help me out in surprising ways. On the few occasions we saw each other in public, she gave not the merest hint that we knew each other. On one occasion, when we chanced across each other with a mutual friend in a pub in Angel, she even acted the flirtatious stranger. When we were together, she told me exactly what she wanted, and gave enough clues the rest of the time so that my guesses were almost always spot on.

From a professional point of view, she was also a brilliant contact. She told me what to do to work as an escort, and gave me some good pointers to avoid getting arrested for soliciting or tax evasion. Apparently, both are very common in this profession, along with petty theft and breaking and entering.

I got a very strong impression that she knew rather a lot about the sex trade, possibly as a customer, but quite possibly also as an ex-provider. Financially, she seemed to have not only a very well-paid job, but also other mysterious sources of income. Occasionally she would let slip details of one work project or another, details which I generally forgot after her second or third orgasm.

Her job also helped me a lot. I found out that she was some sort of super-consultant, hired via a private contractor at remarkable fees to carry out innovative projects apparently designed to make everyone's working lives more difficult. This meant that she basically ran her own life and everyone else's with a surprising combination of responsibility and freedom. I suspect that the paid sex was a simple way of letting off steam.

She also helped me sort things out regarding my failed job seeking. She spoke to some people, I stopped showing up, they stopped paying me and nothing more was said. I wasn't sent on any chain gangs or made to accept menial jobs, and although, obviously, the dole cheques stopped coming, I only needed to pull a few sessions a week to earn more than I'd ever done as a barman or a failed actor. With time, and a steady increase in clients, it became a lucrative line.

My first few clients were all down to J. A few days after my second or third assignment with her, my mobile rang. The number was withheld, and I got a feeling that I knew what it was going to be about. Clearly J. had been sharing the line, because the voice on the other end said without so much as a hello, ‘Is that Cesc? I hear you're great in bed and fuck for money.'

I liked the additional compliment.

‘Who's that?'

‘Let's say I'm a friend of a friend. Are you looking for some work?'

‘I'm always looking for work,' I answered.

‘What are you like at giving head?'

‘Some women moan a bit,' I said, ‘but that's the only complaint I ever get.'

‘A comedian, too.'

‘No. Just an escort,' I said.

‘What are you doing tomorrow night?'

‘You,' I said.

I told her the conditions, and she gave me an address.

‘Good. I'll see you then.'

As I prepared, I thought about the voice: she sounded much younger than the other women, and despite the cockiness, there was a certain naivety in her tone. She didn't sound like the type of wealthy female libertine, sexual explorer or busy career woman who I'd thought would be my most likely customer.

I took a taxi and turned up a couple of minutes early. There were a number of things that were new. Firstly, the flat smacked neither of wealth nor social clout: we were in a semi-salubrious district of north London, nowhere near a tube line. From outside, the house looked neat and new, divided up into smallish conversions. The third floor, which I believed to be her flat, had the lights on and tidy window boxes. It's always good, I reflected, to have a well-trimmed bush to display when you're expecting company.

After double-checking the address, I buzzed. The door opened, and I stepped inside. The stairs were narrow and tight, and I eventually found myself outside the flat door. It had a cheery, hand-painted letter on it. I knocked, noticing as I did that outside there was post addressed to two people. I wondered whether it might be a set-up.

The door opened, and I was greeted by a small, pretty girl, my age or possibly even less, with a short bob of hair, like something out of a Goddard movie. I clocked immediately a male presence in the flat: shoes, sports kit, lots of CDs. I now knew it was a set-up. I also noticed, on her very small hands, an engagement ring. I said nothing, just smiled and accepted her offer to come inside.

‘Would you like a drink?' she offered, walking away from me into a small but airy living room.

‘Thanks.'

‘We have some whisky. Or I'm drinking wine.' She gave a nervous titter. I studied her more closely: she was short, almost elfin, with almond eyes. Everything about her was petite and delicate. I immediately imagined the type of fun she'd be looking for.

‘Wine is fine, if that's what you're having. I don't think I got your name.'

‘You can call me Sophie, if you like.'

‘OK, Sophie. Have you done this sort of thing before?'

‘I'll get you that drink. Make yourself at home.'

I sat down on a throw-covered futon, noticing a large pair of trainers and a baseball bat. I was excited by the job, but also slightly perturbed by the possibility of violent retribution. I wanted my career to last more than two clients.

As she returned, I avoided the subject of the phantom fiancé.

‘I know you're wondering,' she said. ‘You're obviously far too professional to ask.'

‘Ask what?' I replied.

‘My fiancé. He's away.'

‘It's OK. I'm a professional. I'm only here for one thing, and that's you. Everything else is just background noise.'

‘Can I tell you something though, before we, you know, before we start?'

‘It's OK. Don't be nervous,' I said.

‘Of course. Silly. Look, I'll be honest. I'm engaged.'

‘You said.'

‘I've never had an orgasm with a guy.'

‘It happens,' I said quietly.

‘I've been with him for three years. And I've never come. I've never come with any man.'

‘And with yourself?'

‘Yes. Quite a lot, in fact.'

‘OK,' I said, thinking to myself. ‘How would you normally do it?'

‘God. I can't believe I'm having this conversation.' She thought for a few seconds. ‘In the bath?' she said, or rather asked.

‘You know what they say, don't you?'

‘What,' she replied.

‘Sixty per cent of women admit they masturbate. And forty per cent think that everyone really believes they take that long in the shower.'

She giggled.

‘And do you use anything? Do you have a vibrator?'

‘I have one. But I don't use it in the bath. I'd be electrocuted.'

I laughed. ‘OK. I think this is something that can be remedied.'

I reached my hand out and held hers. I lifted it to my lips and kissed the palm. Then I ran the back of the palm across her cheek, and ran it up the nape of her neck, through her hair, as I kissed her cheek, and the corner of her mouth.

‘Where's your bathroom?' I said, pulling back.

‘Through there,' she answered, looking slightly surprised.

‘I'll be back.'

I went through and found what I call the masturbator's bathroom: small, but with a wide, deep tub, surrounded by sponges and tons of different gels and oils. I ran the water and poured in what smelt like the most arousing of scents. With the water running, I returned to her. She had barely moved from where I had left her.

‘We can take our time. I'm really quite looking forward to this.'

‘I'm not going to carry on faking it. I want to know what's the problem,' she said, apparently continuing a conversation she'd been having in her head.

‘Normally, the problem is patience. We have a saying in Argentina. An elephant can fuck an ant, but he needs two things. One is patience.'

‘What's the other?' she asked.

‘Saliva,' I said.

I kissed her again, only briefly, and then lifted her towards me. I perched her in front of me, facing away, between my legs, and began to massage her back and shoulders.

‘Mmm. That's nice,' she said.

Very slowly, as I kneaded her slim shoulders, I slipped down the straps of her dress. I moved round and gently ran the back of my hands down her breasts. I carried on working light circles with my fingertips, and then slipped the dress off fully. I helped her to her feet, and the dress fell off. Underneath, she was wearing nothing but a small pair of panties. I moved her round so that she was lying back down on the sofa, and began to kiss and lick her small breasts. She arched her back and closed her eyes in pleasure.

‘Oh, I like that,' she said.

I kissed my way down her abdomen, and then took the top of her knickers in my teeth. I very slowly peeled them down over her smooth pubis. A thin line of wispy hair was all she had left from her last wax job.

‘You're a very sexy little thing, you know,' I said.

With her naked, I picked her up from the sofa. I held her tight and with my lower hand gently moved towards her pussy.

‘Come on,' I said, and carried her away.

In the bathroom, the water was hot and deep. I helped her in and stood back.

‘Now,' I said. ‘Show me what you do.'

She was already enjoying herself and clearly excited. I saw her reach down without a word and begin to stroke herself. Meanwhile, I undressed. Through half-closed eyes she looked at my erection while playing with herself under the water.

‘This isn't fair,' she whispered. ‘You're not doing anything.'

I walked towards her and slid into the bath behind her. My cock nestled between her buttocks, and I ran it along her thighs.

‘Stand up,' I said. She stood. I slid down into the bath, bubbles around my head. ‘Now sit down,' I said.

She sat, placing her small, neat pussy just close to my tongue. I put my hands behind my head to prevent drowning, and then stretched my tongue to meet her.

‘You can forget I'm here, if you like,' I said.

‘I've got a better idea,' she said.

She unwrapped the condom I'd left on the side of the bath and slipped it onto me. Soon she was sucking my cock enthusiastically while I worked my tongue against her clit. Meanwhile, I freed a hand and began to finger her, gently at first, and then deeper and more firmly, while I increased the rhythm and force of my tongue strokes. She stopped sucking and began to moan with pleasure.

‘Oh God. I'm so close,' she said.

I slowed my strokes to slow, insistent licks, tasting her juice and sliding a second finger into her tight pussy. She gasped and continued her encouragement, now holding my cock firmly in her little hand.

‘Oh yes, now, please. Yes,' she said.

I sped up with my tongue while she began to pull her nipples hard, riding up and down, steadying herself with the other hand. Her buttocks and stomach were tensing and relaxing, and I could tell that she was very close. Suddenly, I withdrew my tongue.

‘Oh no. What's wrong?' she said, with a look of alarm on her face.

‘Nothing's wrong,' I said. I pushed her upwards and then helped her turn around. ‘I hope you're ready,' I said. She was panting and almost trembling. Very ready, I thought. I lowered her slowly onto me. My cock entered her only partially, but with a twist I found myself right inside her. She groaned as I leant back, exposing her clit for me to play with. I teased it with my thumb and forefinger before starting a steady rhythm against it. She pulled on her nipples and rode me. The water splashed around us, and the expression on her face was close to pain.

‘Oh yes. Please. Don't stop now,' she shouted. I continued to help her ride me while maintaining the rhythm and pressure on her clit. She moved from words to shrill shrieks and groans. ‘I'm so near,' she managed to whisper.

I continued with hands and cock; it took three, possibly five more minutes for her orgasm to begin. Her groans became moans, which became little cries and gasps. Once she had begun to take sobbing gulps of air, I knew that she was coming properly. From short sharp bounces she changed to leaping arcs, drawing my cock almost out and then deep within her, water splashing all around us. With one final thrust she was finished, collapsing almost weeping onto my chest.

‘That was amazing,' she said.

‘That was just the start,' I said. She sat up slightly, and I spun her around, my cock still deep inside. On my lap she rocked back and forth, my penis deeper inside and at a different angle. I played with her clit and nipples, and she came a second time within seconds. The third took longer, but was the biggest and most intense of them all. I also decided to come, and as she released her desperate flutters, I felt myself throb and pulsate deep within her, before we both collapsed back down into the water.

We spent a minute or two lying in the water. Once her breathing had calmed down, she whispered a few words of approval and then stepped out of the water. I followed her, and we towelled down.

‘That's the first time I've ever come with a guy,' she said, ruffling the back of her hair with a towel.

‘I hope you enjoyed it.'

She stepped towards me and reached up to give me a kiss.

‘It was amazing,' she said. ‘Let's do it again.'

We went through into the bedroom where I got a proper chance to look at her naked. She lay stretched on the bed, slim and taught. I went down on her, sliding my tongue gently into her, then deeper, and then licking her clit and savouring her taste. Her smooth skin turned me on and I felt my cock rigid against the sheets. She came again, quickly and more quietly this time, grabbing my hair and pushing me into her pussy, before I sat back up and turned her onto all fours. She moaned with pleasure as I slid into her.