a little at my question and took a sip of wine before answering, "Pretty much. The way the economy is, everyone has cut back and hunkered down. If I could find a decent job, like the one you seem to have, I'd consider it. I'd really like the chance to prove myself in the business world, but I don't know…"
Pushing my salad bowl to the side, I leaned forward. "What? What don't you know?"
" I might miss the life. Once I got past the shock of selling my body, and accepted what I was doing, it became like a game that I started to thoroughly enjoy. The thrill of wondering who will I pick to be my lover that night and the pleasure of getting paid handsomely for doing something I like—having sex. Then there are the intangibles, like dressing tasteful and seductive to go out. Having men look at me with lust in their eyes—being desired."
Her short, low cut, white satin sheath with leather and gold chained belt and high heeled open toed sandals were certainly tastefully seductive. "Heck, I could get into that. Tell me, do you have orgasms?"
" Oh yes, my libido's very strong and I almost always have at least one orgasm."
I laughed. "What a job! High pay and orgasms aplenty!"
She laughed. "It's not all peaches and cream. While I can usually avoid a man with hygiene issues, I can't always avoid one that plays rough."
The waiter set the entrées before us, and left.
Ginger took a deep breath. "Smells delicious. I'm famished."
" Before we start to eat I have one last question."
She gazed at me with beautiful, cornflower blue eyes, waiting.
"I want you for the whole night, so would it be all right if we go to the hotel from here?"
Whether she meant it or not, she said, "I'm looking forward to it."
" Great. Which hotel do you suggest?"
" Hmm, that could be a problem with the big entrepreneurial convention here this week. I imagine Lower Manhattan is booked solid." The heat that she generated when she laid her long-fingered, feminine hand across mine, shot straight to my dick. "Don't take this wrong, but it's too bad you're not from out of town. We may not be able to get a room."
I was crushed. "What're we going to do, then?"
She flashed a reassuring smile. "There's a hotel I like not far from here, near where I live. After we eat, I'll see if I can get us a room there."
I breathed a sigh of relief. "That would be great."
~ * * ~
Once we began to eat, the conversation dropped off to the occasional 'could you pass the salt' or 'mmm, this is delicious'. Too my surprise, I found myself gazing at my date more often than usual. The more I looked at him, the more I found Brad Fairchild charming and devilishly sexy.
After dinner while we enjoyed coffee and shared a delicious crème brûlée, I called the Hudson Court Hotel and handed my phone to Brad.
" Ah yes, I need a room, for tonight."
" That's all you have?"
" All right, we'll take it."
" Just a minute."
I studied Brad as he dug out his wallet and read off his credit card information. I enjoyed his company and felt at ease with him. I smiled. Being with him seemed almost as if I were on a real date.
But it wasn 't a date. It was a business proposition. In thirty minutes or less, I would take his money, take off my clothes and we would fuck. In the morning after doing the most intimate thing a man and woman could do, we would part and most likely never see each other again.
Out of the blue, I felt melancholy. No John had ever made me feel cheap. No John had ever made me feel regretful. No John had ever made me think the things that were buzzing around in my mind. What if I'd never become a whore? What if I'd managed to find a real job? What if Brad and I hooked up and instead of fucking…we made love?
Made love? Do I even remember how to make love? Did I ever know?
" All set."
I snapped out of my reverie, and glanced at him. "They had a room?"
There was mirth in his eyes and a huge smile on his lips. "Yes, one." He signed the
Pushing my salad bowl to the side, I leaned forward. "What? What don't you know?"
" I might miss the life. Once I got past the shock of selling my body, and accepted what I was doing, it became like a game that I started to thoroughly enjoy. The thrill of wondering who will I pick to be my lover that night and the pleasure of getting paid handsomely for doing something I like—having sex. Then there are the intangibles, like dressing tasteful and seductive to go out. Having men look at me with lust in their eyes—being desired."
Her short, low cut, white satin sheath with leather and gold chained belt and high heeled open toed sandals were certainly tastefully seductive. "Heck, I could get into that. Tell me, do you have orgasms?"
" Oh yes, my libido's very strong and I almost always have at least one orgasm."
I laughed. "What a job! High pay and orgasms aplenty!"
She laughed. "It's not all peaches and cream. While I can usually avoid a man with hygiene issues, I can't always avoid one that plays rough."
The waiter set the entrées before us, and left.
Ginger took a deep breath. "Smells delicious. I'm famished."
" Before we start to eat I have one last question."
She gazed at me with beautiful, cornflower blue eyes, waiting.
"I want you for the whole night, so would it be all right if we go to the hotel from here?"
Whether she meant it or not, she said, "I'm looking forward to it."
" Great. Which hotel do you suggest?"
" Hmm, that could be a problem with the big entrepreneurial convention here this week. I imagine Lower Manhattan is booked solid." The heat that she generated when she laid her long-fingered, feminine hand across mine, shot straight to my dick. "Don't take this wrong, but it's too bad you're not from out of town. We may not be able to get a room."
I was crushed. "What're we going to do, then?"
She flashed a reassuring smile. "There's a hotel I like not far from here, near where I live. After we eat, I'll see if I can get us a room there."
I breathed a sigh of relief. "That would be great."
~ * * ~
Once we began to eat, the conversation dropped off to the occasional 'could you pass the salt' or 'mmm, this is delicious'. Too my surprise, I found myself gazing at my date more often than usual. The more I looked at him, the more I found Brad Fairchild charming and devilishly sexy.
After dinner while we enjoyed coffee and shared a delicious crème brûlée, I called the Hudson Court Hotel and handed my phone to Brad.
" Ah yes, I need a room, for tonight."
" That's all you have?"
" All right, we'll take it."
" Just a minute."
I studied Brad as he dug out his wallet and read off his credit card information. I enjoyed his company and felt at ease with him. I smiled. Being with him seemed almost as if I were on a real date.
But it wasn 't a date. It was a business proposition. In thirty minutes or less, I would take his money, take off my clothes and we would fuck. In the morning after doing the most intimate thing a man and woman could do, we would part and most likely never see each other again.
Out of the blue, I felt melancholy. No John had ever made me feel cheap. No John had ever made me feel regretful. No John had ever made me think the things that were buzzing around in my mind. What if I'd never become a whore? What if I'd managed to find a real job? What if Brad and I hooked up and instead of fucking…we made love?
Made love? Do I even remember how to make love? Did I ever know?
" All set."
I snapped out of my reverie, and glanced at him. "They had a room?"
There was mirth in his eyes and a huge smile on his lips. "Yes, one." He signed the
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