Escorted (4 page)

As the physical
pleasure intensified, she bent up her legs involuntarily so she could press her
feet down into the mattress, and she clutched the headboard so desperately her
fingers were sore.  He was spending more and more time at her clit. And, as he
gave it a series of hard sucks, Lori’s spine arched up off the mattress.

She panted
desperately, her unsteady inhalations loud and fast in the otherwise quiet
room. She knew something was about to happen. The coiled tension below her
belly couldn’t tighten much more without breaking.

Then Ander
moved his mouth away, causing her to make a disappointed mew.

“I’m sorry,” he
said, clearing his throat when his voice came out a little hoarse. “May I make
a suggestion?”

“Of course. I
told you earlier I wanted some directions. I thought I was about to come.”

“I think you
were. But you’re clenched so tight that some of the pleasure is going to get
swallowed by the tension. It will be better for you if you can relax a little
more.”

She groaned and
rubbed at her face with one hand. “How am I supposed to relax when everything
starts feeling so good and you just know that something ...?” She trailed off
lamely, not quite sure how to describe it. In one of her books, she’d used the
phrase “hot, breathless expectation” but even that didn’t quite capture it.

“Your instinct
will always be to tense up. But if you fight the instinct, you can enjoy the
climax more. I’m going to use my fingers again, and then I’ll use my mouth at
the same time. Why don’t you try the breathing again?”

Lori reached up
to grab the headboard once more. But her bone-deep irony prompted her to
grumble, “You’re big on that damned breathing, aren’t you?”

She heard a
brief, choked sound but she couldn’t see his face in order to interpret it. And
when she felt his fingers, slick with lubricant and her own fluids, penetrate
her again, she forgot to wonder about the sound.

Despite her
words, she did as Ander suggested and started taking slow, deep breaths. The
erotic pressure built back up with startling speed as he massaged her, and then
he lowered his mouth once more to suckle at her clit through the dam. “Keep
breathing,” he murmured from over her flesh.

As soon as the
sensations had swelled up, she’d started her frantic panting again. But now she
made herself inhale as slowly as she could, pushing down against the mattress
with her feet. Then she exhaled, feeling a sudden, intense surge of pleasure as
some of her muscles relaxed.

Suddenly
understanding the purpose of the breathing, she focused on it even more,
allowing the growing sensations from Ander’s ministrations to take care of
themselves. She breathed deeply several more times, and on each exhale the
pleasure leapt forward.

“Good,” Ander
murmured, rubbing at her clit with something other than his lips. His fingers
sustained a steady, stroking rhythm in her wet passage. “That’s perfect.
Breathe one more time.”

Lori breathed
in and felt all the carnal tension at its breaking point.

She breathed
out and the tension finally broke.

It wasn’t a
screaming, earth-shattering orgasm from a romance novel. She didn’t cry out in
ecstasy or experience wave after wave of endless bliss. Her eyes blurred over
and her back arched up. And she made no noise except a few thick, ragged gasps.

But it felt
really good—much better than any orgasm she’d had before—pleasure pulsing out
at the sudden release of pressure. Ander kept thrusting his fingers against the
contractions of her channel, and she vaguely heard him murmuring, “Good. Ride
it out. Just like that. That’s good.”

When she
collapsed back onto the mattress, letting her arms drop down to her sides, she
was astonished by how immediately relaxed she felt. She also felt a little
embarrassed. And overly warm.

“Do you want a
few minutes before we move on to intercourse?” Ander asked, straightening up.
His voice sounded a little different—thicker or something—but she couldn’t
connect a mood with the slight alteration.

“Yes,” she
said, still breathless from her orgasm and feeling a jolt of raw fear at the
idea of having intercourse right away. “Thank you.”

“I can hold
you, if you want,” Ander offered. When she just stared blankly at the dark
outline of his face, he added, “A lot of my clients like that afterwards.”

“Oh.” As she
processed her feelings, she realized it would be nice to be held. But by
someone who actually cared about her. “No. That’s all right. Thanks. I don’t
want to pretend anything. I’m not trying to fool myself.”

“Understood.”
He stood up off the bed. “I’m going to throw this away and clean up a bit then,
if that’s all right.”

“Yes. Good.”

He turned the
light on in the bathroom when he entered. She heard the water running in the
sink. Realizing she was lying on the sheet half naked, she fumbled around until
she found her panties and pajama pants and pulled them back on.

Ander left the
light on as he returned, illuminating the room enough for her to see him more
clearly as he returned to stand next to the bed. At his questioning look, she
admitted, “I don’t think I’m ready for the rest of it yet.”

“Would you like
another glass of wine?” he asked, smiling his urbane, sensual smile.

Jumping at this
suggestion, since it might provide her a way to get past her strangely
embarrassed afterglow, she said, “Yes, please.” She reached over to turn on the
light beside the bed so Ander could see more clearly to pour the drink. “You
have another one too,” she added. “If you want.”

She noticed he
walked a little stiffly as he came back over to hand her the wine. “You’re
really good at that,” she said, smiling at him with real appreciation. Despite
her emotional discomfort at the moment, she was deeply relieved to know she was
capable of having an orgasm like that. And Ander’s professionalism really had
made the whole process as easy as possible and quite pleasurable. “The oral
sex, I mean, not the wine. Thank you.”

“You’re
welcome,” he said mildly. There was a slight sheen of perspiration on his face,
and she wondered how much effort it had taken to get her off. The whole process
must have taken almost forty-five minutes, since it was now nearing ten
o’clock.

As he walked
over the few steps to pour himself some wine, she studied him carefully. His
clothes were barely even wrinkled, the expensive fabrics and tailoring standing
up well to even this sort of activity. But he definitely was missing the cool
grace that had always possessed him before. His shoulders looked a little
tense.

As he faced
away from her, standing in profile against the expanse of windows, Lori
suddenly realized what it was. The sleek, urban cut of his trousers left little
to the imagination, and she could see the bulge at the front of them quite
clearly.

He was aroused.

Lori blinked
and looked away quickly, her cheeks burning at the realization. It made sense,
she supposed. He’d been engaged in an intimate activity. And maybe he had some
sort of mental thing he did to get himself ready for intercourse. It wasn’t
like with women—who could take it whether they were aroused or not. He
had
to be erect in order to do this part of his job.

It probably had
nothing to do with her.

But still...the
knowledge that pleasuring her had left him physically aroused made her feel
kind of strange.

For once, she
was able to hold back her wayward tongue. She didn’t mention it, not even to
make the snarky joke that came to mind.

Ander seated
himself on one of the chairs next to the table and they drank their wine in
silence for a few minutes.

“That was a
good orgasm,” she said at last, wanting to speak and shaping the first words
that came into her head.

Lifting his
eyebrows slightly, Ander said, “Good.”

“I mean, I had
my expectations pretty low. I knew it wasn’t going to be like a hot love scene
in a book. But still it was really good. I liked it.”

“I’m glad.” To
her surprise, she saw the little twitch at the corner of his mouth. For some
ridiculous reason, the unexpected sight of it was like greeting an old friend.

“You don’t
think I’m weird or unnatural, do you?” she asked, “For having gone so long
without having a decent orgasm before?”

Ander shook his
head and answered with cool sobriety, “Not at all. It’s more common than you’d
think. Some women are too self-conscious to let themselves climax. And others
only have experiences with men who don’t know how to please them. With all the
erotica in popular culture now, many women have unrealistic expectations about
what sex should be like. So when their actual experiences don’t match with the
fictional fantasies, they think something’s wrong with them. But the reality is
it doesn’t happen magically, and a lot of men don’t know how to please a woman’s
body—even if they genuinely want to. You might be surprised by how many women
come to me for that very reason.”

Lori thought
about that and decided it was very comforting knowledge.  Not that so many
women were unsatisfied but that she wasn’t the only woman who’d somehow missed
out on the orgasm-train. “You should give lessons,” she said at last, glancing
back over to him and catching him studying her closely. “Teach men how to do a
better job.”

For the first
time, she heard him laugh. It was just a low chuckle, brief and a little bit
bitter. “I’ll consider it.”

“Maybe a
seminar or workshop,” she added, kind of pleased that she’d managed to amuse
such an unflappable man. “Or better yet a webinar. Stream it internationally.”

This earned her
an even longer chuckle.

His laugh faded
as he finished off his wine and glanced at his watch. “If you want to move on
to intercourse, perhaps we should get started. We’ll want to leave time to try
different things, if necessary.”

Lori swallowed
and stared at the clock next to the bed. She’d just been feeling relaxed and
kind of pleased with herself for the evening’s accomplishments. And the thought
of having sex now made her stomach clench sickeningly.

And she
realized that she’d done everything she was emotionally ready for at the
moment. She knew herself well enough to know that if she tried to have
intercourse now—having lost her resolve and erotic momentum—she’d be too scared
and uncomfortable to have anything close to a good time.

As if he read
her mind, Ander said mildly, “If you don’t think you’re up to it tonight, we
can schedule another engagement and focus on intercourse then.”

Lori exhaled in
intense relief. That was exactly what she wanted to do. And the relief mingled
with her sense of irony to push her into spontaneous speech. “Ha! What a sneaky
way to sell a second evening. You should have been businessman.”

When he arched
his eyebrows at her, she bit her lip. “Sorry,” she mumbled. “I know you
are
a businessman. I just meant at some big multinational corporation. But I didn’t
mean...Sorry.”

Ander shook his
head. “Lori, you don’t have to apologize.”

Despite his
bland reassurance, she felt like an ass. “I didn’t mean to make it sound like
you weren’t a professional. And I do think a second evening would be the best
idea.”

“We’ll arrange
it then.” Ander stood up. “Did you want to do anything else this evening? We
still have an hour and a half.”

Since sex was
off the table, she wasn’t sure what she’d do with him for that long. Some women
hired male escorts simply for companionship, but that felt too weird and
unnatural for Lori. She had friends. All she needed was sex.

She shook her
head. Then she remembered his physical condition. “Oh,” she began, stiffening
on the bed, “But you were...I mean, did you need to ...” She waved her hand
toward his crotch and reddened deeply again as she remembered she wasn’t
supposed to know he was aroused.

Ander met her
eyes evenly. “I’m fine, Lori. It’s nothing for you to worry about.”

“Oh.” She hated
the thought of sending him on his way when he was still erect. “You can, uh,
take a shower or something if you want.”

“Thank you. I
might do that.” He hesitated, as if he weren’t sure whether she wanted him to
take the shower now or not.

“You can go
ahead. I’m not going to be up for anything else this evening.”

She stretched
out more comfortably when Ander shut the bathroom door. She heard the shower
running and she figured he’d take care of his erection under the spray. Then
she remembered the pile of cash in the envelope on the table. She got up to
recount it, pulling out the amount she’d included for intercourse and putting
that back in her purse.

She was in bed
again when Ander reemerged, looking composed, relaxed, and suavely dressed once
more. To her surprise, he didn’t grab the cash and run. Instead, he sat down
and leaned forward a little, clasping his hands. “Did you have any other
questions I can help you with? Other concerns?”

She thought for
a moment, taking the offer seriously. How often would she have the benefit of
such an expert? “Do you have any suggestions for getting myself off more
effectively?”

Ander frowned,
but she could tell it was because he was reflecting on the question. “What have
you tried?”

“Just my hand.
Rubbing, mostly. I can get there, but it’s never all that good. I figured I was
just doing it wrong.”

He gave her a
few, detailed suggestions about techniques for manual self-stimulation. Then he
added, “You should get a vibrator.” At her expression, he gave a half-smile.
“They’re not nearly as tacky or embarrassing as you’d think. I can bring you a
good one next time if you want.”

“Thanks,” she
said, smiling in surprise at the offer. She’d considered buying one
herself—she’d even found discreet websites through which she could buy one—but
she’d been worried she’d be too self-conscious to actually use it. “How far in
advance are you booked up?”