Chapter Three. There was no point in pretending anymore, Robert’s studies were going to hell in a hand basket. There was also, no point in pretending that he wasn’t enjoying himself. But, and it was proving to be a big but, he was having doubts about the women he met through his adverts. His initial advert in the shop window had been superseded with a flashier, more colourful card. It brought a few enquiries, but was proving to be the weaker point of sale. He had taken out a small space in the local free newspaper contact column which had started to pay off. But, the problem was, well the women who called him were not Elizabeth and definitely not in her class. He thought long and hard about his future. It was obvious that his need for money, plus the enjoyment of his extra-curricular activities, was having a detrimental effect on studying Music. Most of the time, he was far too tired to concentrate for more than a few minutes before falling asleep. So it was perhaps, time to consider whether he wanted to continue as a student and give up the profession, or chose the latter as a career move and possibly pick up the studies later. The thing that bothered him though, was the standard of the majority of his clients and that was mostly because of his adverts and their placing he realised. Then, while answering a call from a new client, it dawned on him that he should join an agency. Let them find the bookings, pay them a small fee and have access to a much better class of client. It wasn’t that he was being snobbish, just that his libido had limits and for him to produce the goods, he had to at least like the look of the woman. Having them vetted by an agency, seemed like the way to go. He joined ‘Private Encounters’, an agency that boasted a central London address and promised endless clients. His resume was accepted and a short interview in a cheap hotel off of The Edgware Road found him being punted around the contact magazines and website they had. Robert removed his own adverts and waited for the phone to ring. It didn’t take long. Amber, his contact with the agency, had booked him with a bubbly blonde called Suzanne who was looking for a date for the night to go nightclubbing. He was to meet her at her hotel at eleven that night. Was to be wearing a suit and tie and be prepared for a long evening. Suzanne answered his knock, opening the door to her room with a smile and a welcome in. “Just finishing up.” She said over her shoulder as she headed for the bedroom. “Won’t be a moment, make yourself comfortable.” Her accent hinted at California. Her perfume left a heavy trail behind her. Her dress, gauzy and multi-coloured, flowed long, to mid calf, but seemed to accentuate her figure. She was as tall as he, in her metallic grey sandals. Her hair flowed to shoulder blade length in blonde tresses of luxuriant thickness. Robert thought that she might look fantastic naked, at least from the rear view he had. She also had a perma-tan, typical of American women. During the ride to Soho, he found out that she did in fact come from California and was over here for a month, ‘doing Europe’. So far she had spent three days in Paris and two in Amsterdam. Neither had inspired her too much. He listened as she prattled on, not really concentrating on her words, but intently on her mouth. He realised she had perfect teeth. Each was perfectly aligned, beautifully white and completely even and so obviously the product of an orthodontist. Her lips, on the full side, were quite wide, wider than the European average perhaps and very inviting. Her mouth was expressive and spoke more in the secret language of the body than her words did. Her eyes that danced, never resting in any one place for more than a split second, were grey/blue with a dark outer ring to her iris. “Have I got herpes or something?” The stream of words had stopped for a moment, only to continue with her sudden question. “What? Oh, I’m sorry. I was just watching your mouth. You have an incredible mouth.” He felt more than a little stupid at the ineptness of his comment, but hoped it covered his switching off. “My friends call me motor mouth, you know, revved up all the time?” He liked her accent. In fact, there wasn’t much he didn’t like about her. He also liked that she let him off the hook so easily. They ate at the Trocadero and then moved onto the night clubs, staying only long enough in each, to grab a drink and then, move on to the next. Very similar to her eyes, Suzanne seemed unable to settle at all. Eventually, after what seemed like every nightclub in London, they ended up at Ministry of Sound in Vauxhall at two o’clock in the morning. “Didn’t Boy George used to be a DJ here?” She yelled in his ear, only just getting over the club thump of “Dance Anthem” that seemed to exude from the very walls. He didn’t try to yell back, just nodded a yes. Somehow, they managed to get the bar to come up with two Coronas without glasses and a wedge of lime shoved down the neck of the bottle. And then Suzanne danced, spinning away from him, her bottle describing arcs as she twisted and spun on the floor. Her choice of dress was now obviously deliberate. The lightweight fabric spun out as she twisted, giving the observer a less than subtle view of her tanned thighs. Robert joined her on the dance floor, holding his beer in one hand and her slim waist in the other. Through the next few dance anthems, they clung to each other and gyrated in a simulation of coupling that drew more than one or two admiring glances. “Let’s go.” She whispered closely into his ear. Robert hailed a taxi which took them along the Embankment of the Thames toward her hotel in Knightsbridge. “I know it’s extra…” She whispered. “…but I feel really fucking horny and… well… it’s been a while, since I had a man screw me.” She delivered a beatific smile as she waited for his response. Before he had time to think, the joke was out of his mouth. “What. Do you bat for the other side then?” He wished he had bitten off the words a millisecond later. Lame did not cover it. Shock at his directness registered in her eyes before she recovered and answered. “Well yes, generally I don’t involve a man in my love life…” Her eyes glittered in the reflected lighting of the shops they passed. It made him think of a she devil for some reason. “… but I occasionally allow one into my bed…” Her grin was quiet wicked and her deliberate pause caught him. He didn’t know if she was being serious or not. “…You seem okay, you will do for now.” He knew she was making fun now and feigned punching her on the shoulder. Her laugh was instantaneous and completely at ease. Clothing was thrown in any direction in the haste to get naked and into each other when they arrived at her hotel door. Somehow, while undressing each other and maintaining a contact of lips, they managed to get to the bedroom and fall onto the queen sized bed in a heap. Robert took charge, pushing her down onto her back while his fingers sought her sex and his mouth sucked her nipple into his mouth. She tasted great and the perfume of her skin was intoxicating. Suzanne wasn’t the type to be submissive though. She had ideas of her own and soon had his cock in her wide mouth while she massaged his balls. She sucked greedily, downing most of his length, covering him in her saliva. Naked, Suzanne was every bit as beautiful as he had thought she would be when he first saw her. His anticipation had been rewarded, but what he hadn’t been expecting, was her athleticism. She could ride him as if on a bucking bronco, but without falling off. Once she had satisfied her hunger for cock head in her throat, she pushed Robert back and straddled him, grasped his dick and sat on it as if he were a Sybian vibrator and there she stayed, writhing and rubbing herself against him, getting her self off and paying no attention to him. Under no illusions that he was, in his role, little more than his customer’s temporary plaything, Robert was mostly okay with that. But, this was an out an out use of his body for her pleasure and hers alone. It was the first time that Robert felt used and he wasn’t sure he liked that so much. “Cmon big boy, fuck me will ya?” The fact that he was trapped beneath her seemed to have eluded her completely, but Robert managed to thrust up, bearing her weight momentarily. Her pelvic thrusts drove him back down, grinding him into the bed as her tempo increased. At last, she was getting there and hastened her climax with her fingers rubbing her clit as she gyrated on his cock. She threw her head back, stretching her long neck, her throat exposed, sinews pronounced and sighed as she came, twitching in after shocks, bathed in sheen of perspiration from the exertion. Robert hadn’t cum, hadn’t felt like he would have done any time soon. And, although she was quite beautiful with a fantastic shape and tits to die for, found he didn’t like her enough to even want to try and complete. He didn’t like her selfish taking of his body with not thought to his satisfaction. It was a first for him and left him feeling somewhat unsure of himself. Suzanne, now that she had reached her goal, arose sinuously from him, breaking the contact of genitalia, leaving a slick residue over his groin and walked to the en-suite bathroom. “My purse is on the dresser; take whatever the going rate is and shut the door behind you please.” No goodbye or thank you, just a dismissal like rubbish after use. Robert’s feeling of being a human dildo deepened, she wasn’t even going to allow him to clean himself up. As far as she was concerned, he had performed the function of her need and had no more interest in him. He retrieved his clothing, dressed and yelled through the bathroom door that she could keep her money. It was a small ego booster, very small, but made him feel better about himself. The cheque for the evening arrived two days later with a note from the Agency that his client had called to say that his service was way above expectation and that the agency would be subject to recommendation back home. Amber was delighted that her new boy was such a success and added a hand written note of thanks. Robert closed the note, screwed it up and tossed it, over hand, into the waste bin. The events of that night had given him cause to reflect yet again. Being an escort had its obvious merits. Getting to screw women on a regular basis was an obvious up-side. But the realisation that he was nothing more than a temporary thing, made him feel that his worth was somewhere on a par with a rampant rabbit. Being listless was something new to Robert, but listless he was over the next couple of days. Suddenly, he missed his studies, missed the pressure of assignment deadlines. It was irrational, he knew, but the feeling of baselessness and lack of worth would not shift. The agency called with his next appointment for the following Saturday night. Robert was less than enthusiastic, but accepted, rationalising that the money would be useful. Amber must have picked up on his lacklustre response to the appointment because she insisted that he meet her for lunch that day. Amber turned out to be in her late forties, but had kept her looks and her appearance. Her make up, was subtly applied, accentuating the contours of her jaw line and cheeks. Eye shadow was muted, a blend of at least two colours and in perfect unity with a flesh-tone lipstick. She wore a simple ‘A’ line dress and a single string of pearls around her neck. She ordered lunch for both of them, conferring with him over the choice and deciding on a warm salad with a glass of chardonnay to wash it down. She talked over the food and the edge of her wine glass. Her eyes rarely left his as she told him about the origins of Private Encounters. How she had started it as an up-market client point of contact as she put it. Her days on the street had made her realise that she was better than the average hooker. It had been a struggle, coming from lowly origins, but was now a very successful business. “But that isn’t why I asked you to lunch Robert.” She stared at him, her blue eyes holding him. “Although you have been with us a short time only, the comments that came from your first client have brought you to my attention and, I like to look after my “special” charges. You seemed unhappy on the phone earlier, so, I wanted to make sure everything is okay with you.” Robert didn’t know quite what to say. He didn’t really know how to express his deep feeling of worthlessness. Robert was unused to talking about himself or his emotions with anyone, let alone his employer. So, he just shrugged his shoulders noncommittally and stared at his food. “Is the money not enough?” He found his voice after a few seconds, while he organised his mind. “The money is fine. It’s just…” He searched for the right words. “… well, I feel used.” And that was the crux of it. In voicing his feelings, Robert realised what his problem was, he wanted something more than casual liaisons. He wanted a partner, someone to love. “I see”. She paused for a moment while she thought about the problem and then espoused her philosophy. “That feeling is nothing uncommon for us in the sex industry. The trick is to keep our working and private lives separate. I can’t tell you how to do that, you will work it out for your self in time, but it is a necessity, otherwise you become a slave to the machine, rather than the other way around.” She paused again and looked at the top of Robert’s head and tapped the table top to get his attention. “I felt the same way years ago, working the street and then the hotels. As a way of making money, it was fine, but I was lonely. Until, that is, I found my boyfriend and created a separate life, totally independent from work.” Robert remembered Lucy, his one time girlfriend, now departed and really not missed. He wondered what she was doing these days. Amber continued. “You have plenty of free time Robert, so why not get out in the world and see the roses. Smell the roses and, if you are open enough, grow your own rose.” She liked the metaphor. “Anyway, do the gig on Saturday. Heidi is a long established patron, is wealthy and don’t let the fact that she is German put you off.” Amber got up from the chair, adjusted her dress and said as she walked away. “Think about it Robert. Go out and find a girlfriend.” She left him at the table, his warm salad untouched and now cold. Heidi made no pretence of wanting an escort for the evening. What she wanted was to be screwed, royally. This, it seemed, was her twice yearly treat. This was her award for working hard and being a successful money marketer. Trawling the stock markets and buying or selling money. It is mostly a man’s world, but she had a natural flair and competed on their terms. Twice a year, she would call Private Encounters, see who was new on the books and arrange for her weekend entertainment. Coming over from Bohn for a three day stay in the Park Lane Hilton, spending silly amounts in Oxford Street and then getting fucked senseless by a hired cock was her bi-annual reward. Robert had hardly knocked at her hotel door at the arranged eight o’clock, before he was physically dragged in and his clothes unceremoniously stripped from his body. Heidi walked around him as he stood motionless in the middle of the Suites entrance hall. “Hm.” She mused, her chin in her hand as she studied his physic. “Not bad, not bad at all.” She stood about five foot two inches tall, coming up to his chin. Heidi was probably late thirties, dressed in nothing but a fishnet body stocking and black patent leather high heels. Her breasts were pushing at the mesh of the fishnet. Her nipples poked through and showed a gold bar in each. Her short blonde hair looked thick and soft, well cut into the nape of her neck. She carried a few extra pounds, mostly on her hips, but all in all, was a fine specimen of womanhood Robert thought. She grabbed his flaccid organ and cocked her head to one side as she gazed at it. “Tell me Robert, do you go bare back or sheathed?” “These days, sheathed mostly.” He felt a bit like a museum exhibit, being studied and analysed and more than a little uncomfortable at the intense attention. “Very wise.” She said sagely while she gently pulled on him as if measuring the distance his cock would go. Then, turning, while still holding him, she led Robert to the bedroom. If he thought this was going to be a straight up, fuck session, he was wrong. Alongside the bed, on a small hostess trolley stood a jeroboam of Brut in an ice bucket, two punnets of strawberries and a tube of chocolate, as sold by most sex shops. Dinner, it seemed, was on him, literally and it looked as if Heidi had a sweet tooth. “You will forgive me the slightly bizarre, I am sure. It is something I have always wanted to do, so, why not?” Her spoken English was very good, with only a trace of the German accent to it. She had him lay on top of the bed while she smeared chocolate all over his chest, abdomen and groin, paying special attention to his groin. In a perverse way, Robert found the cool chocolate acted as a salve and felt really quite nice. Heidi arranged several strawberries over the top of the chocolate, placing them with care and making sure they adhered by twisting them a little. Once she had them placed, she stepped back to admire her handiwork. It gave Robert a chance to see her body properly. He thought she was okay, if a little on the larger size, but proportioned well. Her pierced tits were heavy, but not hugely so that they sagged. Her waist was nicely narrow before it flared out to her hips. Her mons was covered by the gusset of the body stocking and her legs, probably her best feature, were nice and slender, without being skinny. And then her tongue went to work, licking up the chocolate, starting from just below his throat and gradually working her way downwards. The strawberries placed strategically, were eaten, one by one, slowly and with as much eroticism as she could possible muster. It was very pleasurable, feeling her hot tongue lapping at his skin, nibbling off the strawberries and making sure that anything under them also got nibbled or licked. She bit his nipples gently, holding them between her teeth as they hardened. As she progressed down his torso, licking off the chocolate and eating the strawberries, so his interest made its self felt in the hardening of his cock, which twitched several times in arousal. At last, she got to his now, quite stiff, member. Holding a piece of the fruit between her lips, she pushed it into her mouth, using his engorged cock as a push rod. “Mm.” She purred as the fruit was pushed to the back of her throat. She made a show of swallowing it while holding him in her mouth. Somehow, Robert had to keep control. It wouldn’t do to blow a load just yet. She had sucked the chocolate off of his cock and noisily swallowed that too in a theatrical way. “Do you like chocolate Robert?” “Um. Yes. Sure.” “And, how about strawberries?” She had a sly look in her eye. Something had occurred to her as an idea. She grabbed the tube of chocolate and squirted it over his cock, making sure it was completely covered. Then, with her fingers, she opened a slit in the body stocking he hadn’t noticed before. She placed a strawberry between her pussy lips and again, used his cock as a ramrod; she pushed the fruit into her body and slipped down on him. “What about the pips? Won’t they get stuck?” Robert was concerned that they would become lodged. “We’ll deal with that later.” She told him, closing the subject. Not content with one berry, she repeated the process several times until she had five or six of the pip covered fruits inside her pussy. The chocolate had become smeared all over her hairless lips and strawberry pulp leaked out in small globules. She spun around and sat on his face, demanding that he eat her out. Robert, thinking this to be just about as erotic as anything he had done before, stuck his tongue out and sucked as hard as he could to pull the fruit and chocolate out of her. Heidi squealed in delight and started to grind her hips rhythmically, smearing chocolate and fruit all over his face. The pips caught between his teeth, but it didn’t faze Robert. He lapped and sucked at her until all he got was her female cream as she climaxed. She giggled at the sheer debauchery and decadence of the act. “And now, for the champagne.” She announced and grabbed the cooling bottle from the ice bucket. The cork flew up, hitting the ceiling and frothy bubbles spilled out of the neck to splash over Robert, making him shiver at the sudden coldness. She gulped down a mouthful and then held the next in her mouth while she pushed his head between her lips. The coldness made his cock wince a little, but the massage of bubbles felt delicious. His hardness was becoming uncomfortable, it had been some time that he had held his erection. But, relief wasn’t going to come immediately. Heidi sat on the bottle, pushing the neck into her and then falling backwards on to the bed. The dark green bottle was far too big to go very far, but she managed a good few inches of the neck. She jiggled the bottle, forcing it deeper and agitating the contents until her pussy was overcome with the gaseous liquid that was expelled, under a significant force, spraying Robert and the bed in a tsunami of white foam, soaking both. “That’s how we will deal with the pips.” She laughed and then said, “Now you get to screw me Robert. Please?” He slid over to her, parting her knees with his and knelt with his cock at her entrance. He noticed the two small gold rings she had through her labia and wondered how he had missed them before. She was quite loose from the expansion that champagne had caused and was of course, very wet indeed. It made things just that much easier. Robert slid into her and fucked her in a strong rhythm, using his entire length in long smooth strokes. The bottle slipped from her fingers and hit the floor, leaking what was left over the carpet. Neither of them noticed. At last, he was ready to cum, and almost pulled out of her, but at her insistence and being pulled back into her with a vice like grip of her legs, feet locked behind his back, he shot his seed deep into her again and again while she hit her orgasm, delighting in the pulse of him deeply within her. The bed was totalled. Chocolate, strawberry mush and champagne had seen to that. She called room service and they showered while the maid service cleaned up. Robert finger fucked her standing up under the hot water and then she returned the favour, sucking him off until he came in her mouth. She pushed his sperm out slowly between her lips, allowing the cascading water to wash it away. “That was fun Robert. Thank you.” She said as he was leaving. She went on tip toes and kissed his cheek before closing the door on his retreating back. Robert felt much lighter than he had for several days. It had been a fun evening. His sense of value was somewhat restored, adding a skip to his step. His day was completely made up when he heard the message left by Elizabeth, asking him to call her back. He left a message on her voice mail. The cheque arrived on the following Tuesday, four hundred pounds, which, after commission, was one hundred more than the usual fee. A note from Amber asked what significance the strawberries and chocolate had. Elizabeth returned his call. She invited him to the races as her Escort. It was outside of the Agency, but Robert didn’t care. The chance to see Elizabeth was far too good to pass up.