Sugar Daddy v1d72

In an every-girl-for-herself world, Simone White looks out for number one. But is the price of success too high?

Simone White has a problem—her money is about to run out, and, oh yes, she doesn’t start her new job for an entire three weeks. But Simone also has a roommate named Jacque, who suggests that Simone use her beauty to get a rich boyfriend. Simone has to decide between her pride and her need for money. Will Marcus is a freelance writer who just hit the jackpot thanks to the deal he made with a movie studio to adapt his book into a screen play. His agent persuades him to go out and celebrate. After all, a payday this huge doesn’t come along every day. Featuring some of his best dialogue ever and his most explicit writing yet, this latest interracial romp from veteran writer Jon Bradbury will keep you turning the pages.

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This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

Sugar Daddy Copyright © 2012 Jon Bradbury ISBN: 978-1-77111-356-4 Cover art by Angela Waters

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Sugar Daddy

By

Jon Bradbury

To the most important person in my life right now, the person reading this book. Hope you enjoy my labor of love, for I truly love to write.

Chapter 1

At about a quarter till ten o’clock on a perfectly lovely Friday morning, I walked into the reception area of the office building and crossed the room to the front desk. Click. Click. Click. Click. The receptionist looked up at me and said, “Hi. Can I help you?” “Yes. Hi. My name is Simone White. I have an interview with Dina Johnson at ten. I printed the e-mail from the temp agency, in case you need it.” “That’s fine, hon.” The girl turned to her computer and pecked daintily at the keys, then turned to me. “Have a seat while I let Dina know you’re here, okay?” “Okay. Thanks.” I looked around as I crossed the room. It sure was a beautiful lobby. Grey tile floor. On my left, floor to ceiling windows showed a panoramic view of the city. High over my head a ceiling fan turned lazily away. I headed over to the corner where a plush black leather couch awaited, sat down and crossed my legs, placing my leather organizer and drawstring purse to my left. On the wall to my left was a huge flat- TV, currently showing Headline News. At the back of the room was a set of mahogany double doors set into a peach-colored wall. I picked up a glossy magazine from the coffee table, saw Kim Kardashian’s beautiful but way overexposed face on the cover and flipped right past her ass. Sorry, Kim. Anyway, I’m Simone. I’ve been unemployed for eleven endless months. Attendance issues tripped me up. One day I had a brain fart and arrived at work ten minutes late. The very next day I lost my job. How’s that for an intro? What can I say - I pretty much didn’t care anymore whether I was on time for

work or not. I suspect a lot of people feel that way about their jobs these days. The company where I worked had laid off a bunch of people the year before. I found myself doing the very same jobs other people had been hired to do, in addition to my own job. My wages remained right where they were, strangely enough. No matter how I’d arrived at this point, the result was the same. No job. And no more money coming in. I had quite a bit of money stashed away in a savings , but I was shocked to discover how quickly I spent it, compared to how long it took me to save it. Then I got the e-mail from the temp agency Monday morning. One e-mail led to another, which led to a phone call, and so here I was on this perfectly lovely Friday morning. I was dressed to impress in a black knee-length long-sleeved wrap-style dress with a sash belt, shimmering sheer pantyhose and the best pair of knee-high tall black stiletto dress boots I owned. They weren’t even real leather, but when I put them on and zipped them up, they fit nice, looked smooth and polished, and most importantly, I could walk around in them all day if I needed to. My hair was in its naturally curly state, just brushing my shoulders, giving me a softness I wasn’t exactly feeling at the moment. My makeup was simple powder, lipstick and mascara. My nails hadn’t seen the inside of a salon in ages, but I did what I could on my own with an emery board. The e-mail from the agency said the job was temporary, but it would be better than nothing. It was even in my field, taking orders and checking the status of orders. Calling customers about their orders if any issues came up. Call center customer service work, in other words. It sucked but what can I say, it was a possible job that wasn’t going to India, and I was good at it. The job was supposed to last through the Christmas rush and into January, for all the inevitable returns and exchanges. And it might even lead to something permanent if I did well enough, at least according to the e-mail. But I had to get the job first. Click. Click. Click. “Simone?” I looked up from the magazine. A brunette-haired white woman was coming towards me, wearing a plain white shirt, black pencil skirt and matching leather

stiletto pumps, glasses perched on her nose. She looked way too young to be making decisions. I put down the magazine. “Yes?” She extended her hand. “Hi, I’m Dina Johnson.” I stood up, extending my hand to take hers. Thankfully we were both the same height. “Hi, Dina.” “It’s so nice to meet you.” “It’s nice to meet you, too.” “You look very pretty, Simone.” “Oh, thank you.” “Come on back with me.” I followed her across the room, over to the double doors, tucking my leather organizer under my arm and slinging my purse strap over my shoulder. She slid her card through the little reader next to the door. There was a beepclick and then she held the door open for me. “After you.” I gave a single nod as I stepped through. “Thank you.” I followed her down a long hallway, only vaguely aware of the high ceilings, the polished tile floors, and the very cool décor. Click-click-click-click. We came out of the hall and into a very large room filled with cubicles. She showed me into a very small room off the side. It seemed nobody was using it. There was just enough space for a single bare plastic desk and three equally plain plastic chairs. “Have a seat, Simone.” “Thank you.” I pulled out the single chair nearest to me, sat and crossed my legs. “I’m just waiting for one more person to us.”

“Okay.” “Would you like a cup of water?” “Yes, please, that would be great.” The interview, when it finally happened, seemed too short, almost like a formality. Dina looked at me and said, “Well, Simone, we’ve got some good news for you. We would like you to come work with us. How does that sound?” “That sounds great. When do I start?” “Your training class won’t start for three weeks. That won’t be a problem, will it?” I choked down my first response. Three weeks?! Instead I calmly said, “No. Not at all. I’ll just be happy to get back to work.” “If you have the time, let’s go over to HR to have your picture taken for your ID card, and fill out your tax documents.” “Yes, I have the time.”

A smile was on my face as I opened the front door of my apartment and went inside. If I concentrated hard enough, I could almost feel the extra weight in my purse from the plastic ID badge and the stainless steel chain it was hung from. My roommate Jacqueline Marie - just call me Jacque - Green sat on the couch, watching TV, lounging the day away, her bare feet up on the ottoman. She had at least changed out of her pajamas and into a white t-shirt and pink and white velour sweatpants while I was gone. Jacque was slender like me, but set next to me she looked like a stick of butter. Her eyes were emerald green and her hair was straight and honey blonde. Her long French nails were perfect. Her hair was perfect. She was perfect, after not having done a damn thing all morning, except to eat her breakfast and watch TV. Oh, and watch me run around like crazy, getting ready for my interview. It made me sick just to look at her.

My smile faded. Shaking my head, I unzipped my boots and slipped them off. Then I crossed to the kitchen and put my purse and organizer on the counter with a sigh. I had no idea how I was going to make it through three more weeks without making any money. Jacque muted the volume on the TV and looked at me. “I would ask you how your interview went. But I can see by your face that wouldn’t be a good idea.” “No, silly, I got the job!” I took my new employee badge out of my purse and showed it to her. She got right up, crossed over to me and gave me a hug. Without my boots on, we were the same height. “Congratulations, honey!” I said a muffled, “Thanks!” Then she pulled back. “But what’s that face for?” “I don’t start for three weeks.” Jacque was surprisingly unconcerned. “That’s all?” “Yes, that’s all!” “Don’t worry, honey. We can make it just fine.” My jealousy and curiosity got the best of me. “How do you do it, Jacque? I mean, really, you never have a job, yet you always have money. How does that work?” Instead of answering me directly, Jacque said, “You know what you need?” “No. What do I need?” “You need a sugar daddy.” “A what?” “You heard me. You need a sugar daddy.” “Oh. I see.”

“Simone Camille White, do not give me that tone.” “Why not? It’s so much fun.” “But yes, that’s how come I always have money.” “You mean because of your sugar daddy?” “Mm-hm, and all I have to do is keep him happy.” I snorted. “Right. And how exactly do you keep him happy?” “Not the way you think.” “Jacque. What man would just give you money and presents without expecting something in return?” “Some men do expect sex in return. But some men, believe it or not, just want companionship from a woman. Like my sugar daddy.” “You’re right. I don’t believe it.” “Simone, be nice.” “If you insist, but you haven’t told me about your sugar daddy.” “There’s nothing to tell. I keep him happy, sometimes with a blow job, sometimes with a hug. He keeps me happy with a steady flow of cash and presents.” “Right…” “Simone. Look. I know you’d rather do things on the up and up. Be a strong, independent black woman. I know that about you, and I respect you for that.” “And your point is?” “There’s no shame in having a little help. I can hook you up.” “Hook me up with what?”

“Your own sugar daddy, your own steady supply of cash and presents. I hate to see you stressed out like this. Think of it as a redistribution of wealth.” Redistribution of wealth. I could live with that. “Okay. I will confess…I could…use a sugar daddy. How do I get one?” Jacque squeezed my arms, briefly but reassuringly. “Let me make a phone call.” She picked up her fancy touch screen cell phone off the coffee table. One of the many nice things she had that I didn’t. “And just who are you calling?” “You’ll see. Hopefully they haven’t filled all the spots.” I said, “Spots for what?” “Thank you for calling The Jessica Barbour Agency. This is Angie speaking, how may I direct your call?” “Hey, Angie, it’s Jacque.” “Hi, Jacque! How are you, baby?” “I’m good, honey. How about you?” “Okay, I guess. Excited about the party tonight?” “Oh my gosh, I can not wait!” “I’m glad someone’s looking forward to it.” “Why, what’s the matter, honey?” “We need one more woman for the party, and we are desperate here.” “Why didn’t you call me? I could have spared you the drama.” “Well, I’m asking you now. Do you have any friends you can refer?” “That depends. Please tell me you need a black woman.”

“Yes! How did you know?” “How many times have you told me about the shortage of black women in this city?” “I know, right? Tell me about her!” Jacque winked at me. “Her name is Simone White.” “What does she look like?” Jacque sent a sly grin my way. “She looks like the lady from Scandal, Kerry Washington. Annnnd…she’s got curves to die for!” I tried to grab Jacque’s arm to stop her, but she pushed my hand away. Meanwhile, Angie’s voice enthusiastically said, “Bring her in!” Jacque innocently said, “Are you sure?” “Uh, yeah! Miss Barbour has been looking for another black woman ever since Cocoa left. Bring her in, Jacque.” “Okay, let me get her down there so you can meet her.” “See you then!” Jacque hung up and turned off the TV. “Come on. Let’s go.” “Just like that?” “Yep, just like that. Come on, honey.” She went into her bedroom and came out minutes later wearing paper thin open-toed high heeled sandals, a hooded velour jacket on over her t-shirt, and her favorite matching pink drawstring purse slung over her shoulder. I was still sitting at the kitchen counter. Jacque went to the door, crossed the room back to me and handed me my boots. “What are you waiting for? Put these back on.” “Just where exactly are we going?”

“I see you weren’t listening. There’s going to be a party tonight at The Wharf. A very exclusive party. So exclusive, in fact, you have to get invited if you want to go.” “Okay. And how exactly do I get invited?” “It’s easy when you know the right people. Now come on. We don’t have all day. I’ll even give you a ride over there and introduce you.” “Well then, I guess I should get dressed.” Seconds later my boots were back on and zipped up. I grabbed my purse and we left.

Chapter 2

Twenty minutes later, I was downtown, walking down a sidewalk with Jacque, a tall grey building rising into the sky on my right. “So, what’s this place you’re taking me to again?” “I told you, it’s The Jessica Barbour Agency.” “And why do I need to go to an agency to get invited to a party?” “Simone, do I need to explain everything? This is an escort agency.” I stopped dead and looked at her. “Escort agency? Are you kidding me?” “You want to make money, and this is the best way to do it. I know, it’s not politically correct, but men always need women on their arm to make them look good. Black women like us are rare and in high demand. Now come on.” Jacque yanked open the glass door by its steel handle. I followed her across a tile floor and over to the elevators, where Jacque pushed the button for the second floor. We waited in silence. I wasn’t sure which was worse, the fact that women sold themselves to make money, or the fact that I was just desperate enough to do this myself. Just once, I told myself firmly. Just this once. The elevator doors dinged open and we both stepped on. Then I said, “What’s this Jessica Barbour like, anyway?” “She’s really nice, but she’s very direct. She’s had this escort agency for ten years. She knows what she’s doing and she definitely knows what she wants. And…” “And what?”

“Miss Barbour is pretty desperate to get another black woman in her stable.” “I’m afraid to ask. But why?” “Because, middle-aged affluent white men love black women. Busty black women are especially popular.” “No way.” “You never met Cocoa Jefferson. She looked like the weather girl on Channel Seven News, Dominique Johnson, and she liked white men.” “No way.” “Way.” “So Miss Barbour will want to hire me because I’m black and busty?” “Yes. In fact, Miss Barbour will probably ask where I’ve been hiding you.” This idea was starting to sound less appealing by the second. It made sense, though. Set next to white women I looked mysterious and exotic. If the only ice cream you’ve ever eaten was vanilla, then chocolate would look pretty damn good. I still wasn’t quite ready to use what my momma gave me to make money. It was too late to back out now. Before I could do or say anything else, the elevator door dinged open. “Here we go. Come on.” Jacque quickly took my hand. We walked out the elevator, turned a corner and walked down yet another hallway, heels clicking. I soon found myself looking at a floor-to-ceiling frosted glass partition with The Jessica Barbour Agency embossed on the glass in huge letters. She pulled on the stainless steel handle of the glass door and held it open for me. “After you, sexy.” I curtsied, giggling despite myself. “Thank you!” Looking around, I stepped inside slowly. Click. Click. Click. The office I stepped into was fashion-designer beautiful, and quiet. Traffic drove

past two floors below but very little noise got through. I was impressed. The walls were painted gleaming white, while the floor was black and white checkerboard tile. Way over in the corner on my right was a big black leather couch, up against a floor-to-ceiling smoked glass window, with a clear glass coffee table in front. Directly in front and slightly to the left of the door was a large black desk shaped like an L, with a black office chair behind it, where a brunette woman sat. This must be Angie. She was dressed in a red short-sleeved satin blouse, black satin pencil skirt with a black leather belt and black suede sky-high open-toed stilettos, her shiny black hair in a bun, legs crossed scissor-tight like she was auditioning for an anchor spot on Entertainment Tonight. Jacque barely closed the door behind me before she said, “Hi, Angie!” Angie promptly stood up from her desk and quickly came over. “Jacque!” “Hi, honey!” Jacque gave her a hug. Angie said, “Aw! It’s great to see you, baby!” They kissed. “Mmmwa.” Jacque said, “It’s great to see you, too. I’ve been thinking about you.” Angie giggled. “Aw, really?” Jacque turned to me, held my arm above the elbow and said, “Angie, this is my friend Simone White that I told you about.” Angie turned to me, and suddenly had this look on her face like all her dreams had come true. Her eyes tracked all the way down and back up again. “Hi, Simone.” “Hi, Angie. Nice to meet you.” I stuck my hand out. She held my hand like it was delicate glass. “It’s nice to meet you, too, Simone.” Jacque wiggled her eyebrows. “I told you she was pretty, didn’t I, Angie?”

Angie looked at her, flashing her eyes. “Yes, you did.” I blushed despite myself, rolling my eyes. “Come on, I’m not that pretty. And I do not look like Kerry Washington.” Angie turned back to me, still holding my hand. “Could have fooled me, baby.” “Thank you…” “By the way, I’m Miss Barbour’s secretary, just in case Jacque didn’t tell you.” “No, she didn’t. But thanks for explaining, just the same.” “I hope she at least told you we’re looking for women to be at a party.” “Yes, she did tell me that.” “Good. I’ll tell you something else.” “What’s that?” “Miss Barbour is going to love you.” She quickly reached up and touched a wireless earpiece on her right ear. “Miss Barbour? I have a woman who would like to be considered for the party at The Wharf tonight. Jacque brought her in. She’s black and beautiful.” She held my hand and said, “Come on back with me. I’ll introduce you to Miss Barbour.” I spared a look behind me. Jacque gave me a smile and squeezed my hand. I gave her a hopeful smile in return. Then I quickly turned back around and followed Angie as she led me down a short hallway. Angie suddenly stopped walking as we arrived at a closed set of mahogany double doors. She turned to me and said in a confidential voice, “You are gorgeous. Don’t stress. You got this. Ready, baby?” I took a deep breath and released it, looked at Angie and nodded. I got this. Angie winked at me as she opened the door with her right hand. Her left hand was on the small of my back, gently guiding me inside the door. It was a really nice office. A black leather couch sat in the corner against the wall

on my right coming in, next to a huge floor to ceiling window that had been darkened. Directly in front of me coming in was a large black desk, with a black leather office chair behind it. Standing in front of that desk was possibly the most beautiful woman I had ever seen who wasn’t a sister. She must have been part Chinese. Her hair was jet black, her skin was pale as the moon, and her eyes were like deep dark brown pools. She looked to be in her mid-to-late-thirties. Short and statuesque at the same time, she was dressed in a silver satin blouse, a glossy black leather pencil skirt and open-toed grey suede pumps with sky high rapier thin stiletto heels, her shiny black hair slicked back and held in with a hair clip. Angie said, “Simone White, meet Jessica Barbour. Miss Barbour, this is Simone. She would like to be considered for the party.” Jessica took three steps towards me, hand extended, as she stepped forward. Click. Click. Click. “Hello, Simone. It’s nice to meet you.” Taking her hand, I said, “Nice to meet you, too, Miss Barbour.” “Would you like something to drink?” “Yes, I would love a bottle of water, please.” “Angie, would you get Simone a bottle of water, please?” “Sure.” Angie came back a minute later and handed me a frosty-cold bottle of water. “Here you go, baby. Can I get you anything, Miss Barbour?” “No, thank you, Angie, that will be all. Please close the door.” “Yes, Miss Barbour.” The clicks of Angie’s heels and the swish of her skirt followed her out the door. Silence took over after the door closed. Miss Barbour gestured towards the couch. “Have a seat, won’t you?” “Thank you.” Still somewhat nervous, I walked over to the couch, sat and crossed my legs, pulling my dress down as I did so. I couldn’t help running my

hands over the upholstery. I’d never felt such buttery soft leather. Following right behind me, Jessica took three relaxed casual steps over to the couch, and eased down next to me, crossing her slim legs. “So, tell me. What brings you in today, Simone?” “Well, it’s pretty simple. I need to make money. And I need to make it fast.” “Can’t seem to find work?” Her voice was sympathetic. “Well, after like eleven months of steady looking, I finally did land a new job.” “Congratulations.” “Thank you. But it’s only temporary. And I don’t start for three weeks.” “And you probably won’t get paid for at least another week after that.” “Right. So Jacque referred me to you.” “She told you I’m hiring girls for a party?” “Yes, she did.” “Okay, so let’s talk about the party. The Wharf is one of the most exclusive restaurants in town, the kind of place where wealthy men want to see and be seen, preferably with a beautiful woman on their arm.” “Yes, of course.” I resisted the urge to roll my eyes. Men. “And tonight The Wharf will be hosting a party for some of their most famous and influential clients that dine there.” “Oh. I see.” “Yes. The restaurant ed me to provide them women for the party. I need one more woman. I need a black woman, to be specific, and I would like that black woman to be you, because quite frankly I’m running out of time.” “Really?”

“Yes. It’s a quarter past eleven and I need to e-mail the list of women to Michael before noon so he knows who to expect this evening. I’m even willing to pay twice the normal party rate for a new girl. Are you interested?” “Yes, I’m interested.” Double the normal rate sounded pretty good to me. “Good. Now stand up for me.” “I’m sorry, what?” “Stand up for me and turn completely around. I need to see what you look like.” “Yes, Miss Barbour.” Suddenly uncomfortable for a different reason, I stood up and did a little turn for her. “Excellent. Okay, go ahead and sit back down for me, please.” I was perfectly happy to obey. “I needed to see what you looked like so I could tell the restaurant about you when I e-mail them. I must thank Jacque. You’ll do perfectly, Simone. So let’s talk details.” I made a happy noise. “Let’s do that, Miss Barbour.” She smiled. “Okay. I’ll be paying you one thousand dollars to attend the party. That’s just for your time. Twice what I usually pay.” The room swam. A thousand dollars! Suddenly a hand touched my arm. “Simone?” “Sorry. What?” “Simone, are you okay?” Quickly I composed myself. The room came back into focus. “Yes. I’m fine. You were saying?” “Yes, I was saying, the party is timed to seat all the guests for dinner at sunset. Today is the Autumnal Equinox, in case you didn’t know.”

“Actually, yes, I did know. Doesn’t seem like a good excuse to throw a party.” Miss Barbour dryly replied, “Any excuse is a good excuse to throw a party, Simone. That, and it’s Friday, too.” “How late is this party supposed to go?” “Officially, it only runs until ten. That’s when the restaurant closes.” “Okay.” “Don’t let me keep you. You need to get ready.” I stood up. “Yes, Miss Barbour.” She stood up as well. “You need to look your best, so go visit a salon.” “Right, Miss Barbour.” “Very good. Be sure and stop by Angie’s desk on your way out so she can have you fill out your paperwork.” “Yes, Miss Barbour. Thank you again.” “You’re very welcome, Simone. There’s one last thing before you go.” “What’s that?” “I’m paying you to attend a very exclusive party. So please enjoy yourself.” A smile escaped, despite myself. “Yes, Miss Barbour.” “Welcome to The Jessica Barbour Agency.” “Thank you, Miss Barbour.” I left the office and went back up the hallway to the front desk, boot heels clicking. Jacque’s face was hidden behind a magazine. At my entrance, Jacque promptly lowered her magazine and said, “Well?” “I’m hired!”

Angie and Jacque both cheered. Jacque quickly rose from her place on the couch over in the corner, ran over and gave me a hug. “Congratulations, honey!” “Thanks!” Then Angie said, “Did Miss Barbour mention getting your paperwork done?” “Oh, yeah, she did.” “Let’s get your paperwork done and you can be on your way.” “Okay.” “And Jacque? Miss Barbour would like to speak with you.”

Chapter 3

A little while later, Jacque was leading me back down the hallway for the elevator. “You ready to get fabulous?” “I suppose. But how am I paying for this? I don’t have the money.” “You won’t have to. I’ll spring for it.” “Jacque, I couldn’t let you do that.” “Yes, you could. Consider it an investment in your future. You can pay me back with the money your sugar daddy gives you.” I snorted. “Right. I’m having a truly hard time believing that I’m going to get some strange man to shower me with gifts and money.” Jacque looked at me and smiled. “It’s easier than you think. Those affluent middle aged white men I mentioned are very susceptible. Just be really nice to them, treat them like a king, laugh at all their jokes, and their good judgment goes all blurry. They start thinking with the little head between their legs instead of the big one between their ears.” At that moment, the elevator arrived and we stepped in. I said, “Okay…So which salon are we going to?” “Mona’s, where did you think I’d take you?” “Is this the salon you’re always talking about?” “Yes, the very same. I think I’ll have Mona do a Brazilian on you.” “And what is that?” “Removing all your pubic hair with hot wax.”

“Yikes. Is that as painful as it sounds?” “You need to be smoother than smooth down there, honey. I mean not a single pubic hair anywhere. And that means hot wax. Shaving doesn’t work nearly as well.” “And how often does this torture need to be done?” “Don’t worry, honey, it lasts for weeks. And you’ll love how it looks.” The elevator doors dinged open. Jacque took my hand. “Now come on. Let’s get you hooked up.”

A while later, I was standing next to Jacque in the waiting area of an air conditioned salon, the scent of nail polish and all sorts of other chemicals tickling my nose. Oh, how I’d missed this. I was at home. Jacque and I had hardly come in the door when the girl at the front desk said, “Hey, Jacque! What’s up, girl?” “You know me, Chante! Is Mona here?” “Yeah, hang on a second. Mona!” We didn’t wait very long for a full-figured black woman to come up to the front. She was short and stocky, with a thick torso and large breasts. She had dark chocolate skin and straight shiny jet black hair that hung down nearly to her booty. She wore skin-tight black jeans and a black bustier, along with black patent-leather open toed platform pumps. She came right up and gave Jacque a motherly hug and a kiss on the face. “Hey, baby!” “Hi, Mona!” “I’m assuming you have the party to get ready for, since you’re here?” Jacque said, “Right as usual. But it’s not just me, my friend here, too.”

“You brought your friend?” “Of course I did. I wouldn’t entrust her to anyone but you, Mona.” Mona looked at me, her eyes tracking down and then back up as she held me by the arms, her acrylic nails sliding up and down. “You have a name, sweetheart?” Oh, shit… “Uh. Simone.” “Well, hello, Simone, I’m Mona Williams. I own this salon.” “Hi, Mona, it’s nice to finally meet you.” “What do you mean?” “Jacque is always raving about you and your salon.” Her face softened as she looked back at Jacque. “You and Jacque are friends?” “Jacque and I are roommates as well as friends. Best friends.” “Well then, that makes you practically family!” The next second she was all business. “Come on, sweetheart. Let’s get you sorted out.” She turned around and opened a little gate, gesturing for us to follow. We followed her past the front desk. Mona said to Jacque, “Does your friend here need a wax?” “Yes, Mona, the whole nine. Wax, manicure, pedicure, and hair.” “Okay. Come with me to the back, ladies.” We followed her, wherever she was going, past women getting their hair done, and past women getting manicures and pedicures. Mona looked at me. “Do you shave your kitten, sweetheart? Or will this be like whacking a rosebush?” For a second I didn’t know what she meant by my kitten. Then it hit me. “Oh. Not exactly a rosebush, no.”

“That’s okay, sweetheart. Come on back with me.” Finally we stopped at a white curtain. She pushed the curtain aside, to reveal a small room. Way over in the far left corner was a changing stall. On the right was a padded reclining exam table that looked like it belonged in a doctor’s office instead of a salon. I said, “What’s all this?” It was Jacque who said, “This is where Mona will do your wax, honey.” Mona squeezed my arm as she handed me a full-length white terrycloth bathrobe. “Here, sweetheart, put this on and we can get started. You can leave your things in the stall. They’ll be safe.” “Right.” I took the bathrobe and headed for the changing stall. Pushing the door open, I took a step inside, closed the door and looked around. There was about as much space as a public bathroom stall. Ahead of me was a narrow bench to sit on. Behind me was the door with a mirror set into it, as well as a hook. I put the bathrobe Mona had given me on the hook and then put my purse on the bench. I sat down on the narrow wooden bench and took off my boots first. I wiggled my feet and sighed, glad to have the boots off for little while anyway. Then I stood back up, untied the belt, unbuttoned the two buttons on the side and shrugged out of my dress. I tossed it on the bench. I hesitated only slightly when I reached around in back for the clasp on my black satin and lace bra. Swallowing, I drew the straps off my shoulders and took it off. My nipples went hard in the flow of cool air from the AC. Finally I reached down, bent over and took off my pantyhose. Naked, I turned around and took the robe off the hook. I had forgotten about the mirror. Tossing the robe on the bench, I looked at my body. It was a shapely body, if I do say so. Milk chocolate skin wrapped around a petite frame. Slender arms and slim legs complimented a toned torso with a slim waist. Hourglass hips with an apple-bottom booty. Perfect milk chocolate breasts that remained in place and didn’t hang, topped with nipples like erasers made of dark chocolate. My face was like Mother Africa in full effect, heart-shaped, thanks to high cheekbones with full sensuous lips. I have a small chin, well-defined jaw line,

and a diminutive yet regal nose, all perched atop a regal neck. Oddly, I’ve been told my eyes change color. They just look brown to me, big Bambi eyes. And I have a mane of lush black curly hair. I’ve also noticed that men respond to my voice. It’s low and feminine, soft and husky, and undeniably ebony. My eyes were drawn to my pussy. Somewhere under all that short curly black pubic hair was my badly neglected, sorely missed pussy. Milk chocolate rose petals. That magic button that made me shiver and moan when a man knew just what to do with it. If such a man was out there, I hadn’t met him yet. Didn’t think I ever would. Mona’s voice said, “I don’t have all day, sweetheart. You coming out or not?” “Yes! I’m coming!” Quickly I picked up the robe, slipped my arms through the sleeves, pulled the robe snugly around me and tied the sash tight. I stepped out, barefoot, to find Mona waiting for me, with a little plastic container full of melted wax. Jacque was waiting, too. She must have seen my face, because she came over and put her arm through mine. “Come on, honey. Let’s get this over with. Then we can do the fun part. I know you’ve been dying to get a mani-pedi. See if we can get this mane of yours straightened, too.” Despite myself, I smiled. “Yes.” But I climbed on slowly. I was not at all inclined to spread my legs for this strange woman so she could see my fuzzy pussy, no matter how much Jacque swore by her. Meanwhile, Mona sat on a stool at the foot of the table, right between the stirrups, and scooted closer. With deadpan aplomb, she said, “Okay, sweetheart. I’m sorry but this is the part where I need to see what you’re working with. Trust me when I say I’ve seen quite a few kittens and nothing will shock me. Come on, now. I don’t have all day.” Hesitantly, I sat back, spread my legs and hooked my feet in the stirrups. Mona gently parted my bathrobe. “Not quite a rosebush. But almost.” “I’ve kind of let it go lately.”

Mona ran her long candy apple red acrylic fingernails through my pubic hair. “Not to worry, sweetheart, we’ll get you all fixed up.” I gasped. “Okay…” “Let’s get started, shall we?” Mona took a wooden spoon, dunked it in the wax and slathered it on where I had pubic hair. I gasped again, but for a different reason. The wax was hot. Next she took a strip of adhesive paper and smoothed it down over my pussy. Then she looked up at me and said, “Okay, sweetheart. This is the part where I recommend you hold on to something real tight.” “Okay.” I took Jacque’s hand. “I’m sorry in advance if I hurt you.” She sat down on a little stool to my right, holding my hand with her left hand and patting it with her right hand. “It’s all right, honey. Just try not to scream.” I laughed. “Right, that would bother the clients…aaahhhhh!”

As Jacque pulled her vehicle into the parking lot of our apartment complex, I did my best to stifle a yawn. Jacque said, “Are we keeping you up past your bedtime, honey?” I covered my mouth and tried not to laugh. “Sorry. It’s been a long day.” “Well, try to stay awake a little longer. We can’t have you falling asleep in your sugar daddy’s arms, right?” I laughed again, still covering my mouth. “Right, that would not be good.” “Well, at least try to stay awake long enough for us to get changed.” “Changed? For what?” “For the party, honey. Haven’t you looked at the time?”

“No. What time is it, anyway?” “Four o’clock.” “No way.” “Way. Look.” I did look. The digital clock on the dashboard of Jacque’s SUV declared the time in cool red digital numbers. Four o’clock, alright. “Shit. Do we have enough time to get ready?” “Oh yeah, easy, we’re almost home, anyway. We have just enough time to change clothes, put on our makeup, and bounce over to The Wharf for the party.” Despite myself, I smiled. “Yes, well, the only person in this vehicle who has that kind of makeup would be you, because I’m still technically poor.” “Don’t worry. I bought you new makeup while you were being attended to.” “No way!” “Way. Look in the back.” I did. A big plastic shopping bag sat there. “I don’t believe you. But thank you.” “You’re welcome, honey. Now come on, let’s get inside so we can change.” And with that, she drove into the parking lot, found our space and pulled in. From there we went straight inside without even checking the mail. From the living room, I went into my bedroom and stripped naked once more. My boots may have been comfortable enough to wear all day but that didn’t mean I wanted to wear them all day. Once naked, I was struck by an incredible longing to climb in bed instead of going out to the party. Once again my eyes roved over my body. I’d spent a marvelous afternoon at the salon, thanks to Jacque. My toenails were filed and polished clear, my feet soft and smooth. My hands were soft as well,

my nails now glamour length and polished golden honey brown. After my pedicure and manicure, I had my hair straightened. Now my hair went past my shoulders. Mona had done quite a good job removing my pubic hair. I hadn’t seen my pussy this smooth and bare in a long time. I wanted to touch myself so bad it wasn’t funny. Mona, like any good lover should, had introduced me to something new, even if she didn’t mean to. I was dying of curiosity to experience what it felt like to masturbate with a shaved pussy and long nails. I ran the tips of my new acrylic nails over my naked pussy. “Ohhh, shit!” Suddenly there was a knock at the door. “Shit! Come in!” Jacque came in and said, “Oh good, you’ve already stripped down.” “Yes…I have…ahhhhhuuhhhh…mmmmmmmm…” “What are you doing?” “Touching my pussy! Shit, this feels so good! Want to me?” “Honey, we don’t have time for that. Put this on.” “Put what on?” “I know how much you love leather. You can borrow one of my dresses.” Well, shit! I took my hand away from my pussy, turned and looked at what she’d brought for me. It was a cherry red leather cocktail dress with broad straps and a shiny metal zipper in back. I’d seen her wear it many times. I said, “Baby, I can’t wear this.” “Of course you can. Now come on, we don’t have all day.” She helped me step into the dress, pulled it up and put my arms through the straps. “Uh, shouldn’t I put on any underwear?”

“Trust me, you don’t want any underwear.” Zzzzzzip. She then handed me a pair of open-toed nude pumps, with six-inch-high delicate-looking stiletto heels and quarter-inch platforms. “You seriously expect me to wear these?” “Yes. Put them on. Come on.” “I know. We don’t have all day.” “Right.” I reluctantly slipped on the pumps. I never felt so tall before. Sexy, too. Jacque lightly smoothed down any bumps or wrinkles. Then she turned me towards my full length mirror. “Look, honey!” Jacque’s dress fit like a glove. There was a little bit of wiggle room, some but not much. “Wow.” “I know! You look beautiful, honey!” “Thank you!” “Come to my room when you’re finished getting ready.” While Jacque went to go change, I grabbed a matching clutch purse, and put on a pair of fake diamond-stud earrings. Then I checked myself out in my bedroom mirror again, running my hands down my sides. The color was perfect. The fit was perfect. The length was perfect, right above the knees. If I couldn’t get a man to spend money on me at the party tonight, something was wrong. I went out into the hallway and took a few cautious steps, ing all the rules for walking in heels. Slightly soft legs and stick my booty out just a little bit. Skim my thighs together. Shoulders back. Chest out. Click. Click. Click.

I was used to wearing high heels, practically lived in them. I wasn’t used to wearing six-inch heels, or walking in them. But they made such a sexy clicking noise on the hardwood. And the dress made an equally sexy swish-swish-swish with each step. Oh my God, I loved this dress! Quickly I stepped into the bathroom to brush my teeth and rinse my mouth out with mouthwash. Running my nails through my newly straightened hair, I looked in the bag on the counter and saw at once that Jacque had purchased some really nice makeup for me. First I brushed on flawless foundation. Mascara for long eyelashes. Strategically applied silver and dark grey eye shadow for smoky sultry eyes. Finally I applied red lipstick, then dropped the tube in my purse, and finally precisely sprayed a single puff of perfume on each side of my neck. Then I practiced smiling in the mirror. A minute later Jacque said, “Simone. Can you help me in here, honey?” I stepped inside her bedroom to see her pulling up a cap-sleeved champagnecolored Herve Leger bandage dress that complemented her skin tone perfectly, much like the dress I had on. “Let me guess, you need me to zip you up?” “Yes, honey, please.” “I won’t even bother to ask if you’re sure you want to go commando.” “You already know the answer. Now come on, zip me up.” I stood behind her and zipped up the zipper. “Wow, is this dress tight enough?” “Actually, believe it or not, it’s quite comfortable.” “You’re right, I don’t believe it. I’ll have to try one on.” “We don’t have the time for that, either. I need a pair of shoes.” Jacque went to her closet and found matching peep toe pumps, then found a clutch purse, and finally went to the bathroom herself.

Minutes later, we headed back out. Then she said, “By the way. How do I look?” “As Angie would say, gorgeous.” “Thank you, honey. Come on. We’re going to be late if we don’t hurry.”

After a half-hour-plus drive in thankfully light afternoon traffic, we arrived at the restaurant just in time, and checked in with the hostess, who checked us off on the list that Miss Barbour had sent. The Wharf was known as one of the most exclusive restaurants in the city. Certainly the dining area looked very expensive. The napkins were perfectly folded, starched so white it hurt to look, perfectly placed on equally white tablecloths. Crystal champagne glasses so clear you could practically hear the ding. Flatware and dishes so clean I could use them as mirrors to put on lipstick with. Jacque and I were here on the roof with the other women, sitting at one of the tables together. Miss Barbour had managed to lay her hands on a sampling of just about every type of woman there was, from the palest blondes all the way up through redheads to the darkest brunettes. Jacque and I were the token black women. If I were a man I would be able to find someone that caught my fancy. There were about twenty-five women all together, including Jacque and I. We stood a little apart from the others, nearby the waist-high railing. Downstairs on the first floor was the bar and a small stage, plus a selection of very comfortable furniture. From there, just one short trip up those stairs was all one needed to be up on the roof where Jacque and I were. The view was impressive. I could see the docks and the bay, as well as the city. The water sparkled in the afternoon sun. Altogether it was a lovely afternoon that hopefully would turn into a lovely evening. Jacque stepped very close to me and leaned in. “Before we go down stairs, I wanted to huddle real quick.” “Okay, what about?”

“If you get in with a client and won’t be coming home tonight, just text me, so I won’t worry about you, okay?” “Okay.” “But on the other hand, if you get in trouble and need to be rescued, just text me with 911. I’ve got my phone setup to ring loud if you call or text. Okay?” “Okay. Got it.” I released a long sigh. “Don’t worry, honey. You look beautiful. You’re going to be fine. Come here.” Jacque held me by the waist like I was a delicate piece of china. I blushed, despite myself. Nervously I ran my tongue over my teeth. My mouth still tasted of mouthwash and toothpaste. “Thank you for everything, Jacque.” “It’s nothing, honey. I’m glad I could help.” She scratched my back gently, and then leaned for two quick soft kisses. “You can buy me lunch with some of that money you get from your sugar daddy.” “Right. Am I going to meet your sugar daddy?” “Maybe. He said he’s coming to the party, he just didn’t say when.” “Fashionably late, right?” Jacque laughed. “Right!” All conversation quieted down when the restaurant owner, Michael Johnson, came out on the roof. He was unremarkable in appearance, medium height and build, dark brown hair and brown eyes, wearing a grey blazer over a light blue shirt with a dark blue tie and black slacks and black shoes. He seemed like a really nice guy. He moved around to face us, clapped his hands together and rubbed them. “Okay, ladies. We’re set to open up in about fifteen minutes or so. I’ll need you all down stairs to start greeting the men as they come in. Don’t be afraid to go up and introduce yourselves. And let’s all to have fun.”

Jacque took my hand, slipping her fingers between mine, and gave it a comforting squeeze. “Come on, honey. Showtime.”

Chapter 4

We both headed down the stairs, me following Jacque carefully. Thankfully they were shallow stairs with broad steps and a railing I could hold on to. As soon as I reached the bottom of the stairs, I quickly found walking in six-inch heels was the least of my worries. The party turned into a blur of names and faces that I couldn’t possibly keep straight. But I was buoyed by the fact that no matter what happened tonight, at least I would get paid for attending this little party. It promised to be quite a night, as the British were fond of saying. I was in the middle of a conversation, when Jacque suddenly came over to me and grabbed my arm. “Honey! Come over here for a second.” “Take it easy! Don’t make me trip and fall.” “Just come with me, honey.” As Jacque tugged on my hand, I quickly said, “Excuse me!” One of the other women said, “Better go see what she wants.” “I know, right?” I was suddenly in the company of three very handsome men, all dressed to impress. One was clearly Caucasian, middle aged, starting to go gray. One was a tall handsome black man. And the third man standing next to him was familiar to me, as I was a fan of the local NFL franchise. Jacque was saying, “Simone, I’d like for you to meet Roger Talbot, he’s the reason why I’m so happy these days. Roger, Simone White.” I turned to him with a smile and shook hands. “Hi, Roger. Jacque talks about you all the time. And I can see why.”

“You’re too kind, Simone. Jacque speaks very highly of you. And I can see why.” I blushed. “Thank you.” Smiling, Jacque said, “This is Tyler Libby.” The third man nodded. “And this fine gentleman is his agent, Darryl Strawberry.” I said, “Hello.” Darryl took my hand gently and kissed it. “Nice to meet you, Simone.” I giggled. ing my mission, I said, “Would either of you gentlemen like some company this evening?” The men all smiled. Darryl said, “No, thank you, Simone. But you might want to try our friend over there all by himself.” I looked in the indicated direction, to see a guy standing over by the stage, casually dressed in navy slacks and a navy blazer over a blue and white striped shirt open at the collar, and black shoes. He stood slightly slouched, bobbing his head, sipping from a glass of champagne. Black hair cut short and virtually pink skin. He looked like Ryan Reynolds, which was to say, he was fine as all hell. It’s never crossed my mind to be interested in white men. But I was ready to try one. I smiled at Darryl and said, “Does your friend have a name?” “Will Marcus.” “What does he do?” “He’s an independent freelance writer. He recently sold the rights of one of his books to a Hollywood movie producer. I know that because I brokered the deal.” “Sounds like a good place to start. If you’ll excuse me, gentlemen?” The men gave me single polite nods, while Jacque squeezed my hand and mouthed the words Good luck, honey at me. Heart pounding, I slowly walked over to him, heels clicking delicately on the black marble floor. Swish. Swish.

Swish. Click. Click. Click. Finally close enough to him for conversation, I stopped. We were the same height, thanks to Jacque’s pumps. Searching frantically in my head for something intelligent to say, I ed an article I read and said to him, “You must be one of those people with low stimulation thresholds.” He slowly turned to me and said, “I’m a what?” “Seriously! There was this study done a few years ago.” “Uh-huh. Really?” “Yeah, really, about why some people were the life of the party and why other people were wallflowers.” Just then, a waitress came over, carrying a bottle wrapped in a towel. She had platinum blonde hair, tan skin and sky blue eyes. Like the other waitresses she wore a white button-down shirt, a black pencil skirt and very high heels. “Would you like a refill on your champagne, sir?” “Yes, please.” He turned to me. “Would you like a glass of champagne?” “Yes, please, I would love a glass of champagne.” Less than a minute later, I was holding my own crystal champagne flute and taking a dainty sip. “How do you like the champagne, ma’am?” “I love it. Thank you.” The waitress moved off. The man turned to me and said, “So, you were saying about this study?” “Yes. Scientists measured people’s brain activity and they found that people with low stimulation thresholds were the wallflowers. When their stimulation reached a certain level, they started to withdraw from further stimulation. But the people with the higher stimulation thresholds, they just kept right on going.” “Huh. Got to say, that makes sense. I’ve always been better at quiet little dinner parties than parties at the club.”

“Yes. Me, too. I’ve never been good at the club scene.” “Another thing I’m horrible at is dancing, but would you like to dance? This music is slow enough.” I giggled despite myself. “Yes, I would love to dance.” We put our glasses of champagne on the piano, along with my purse. My nameless friend put his arms out. All I had to do was take two steps to be inside his personal space. He slipped his arms around my waist, while I wound my arms around his neck. His shoulders were solid and muscular. I liked the way he smelled. It was a subtle scent that reminded me of good memories. I nuzzled my nose against him and said, “I like this scent you’re wearing.” “Thanks. My Dad liked to wear it, too.” “What is it?” “Old Spice. You can never go wrong with Old Spice. Or at least that’s what Dad always said.” A smile stretched my lips. “Sounds like good advice to me.” “If you don’t mind me saying so, you have such beautiful eyes.” I started to laugh self-consciously. I looked away. “What?” “You’re making me blush!” “I take it you’re not usually told you have beautiful eyes?” “The men I’ve been with in the past usually haven’t complemented me on my eyes. Not at first, anyway.” “Maybe you need to be in the company of better men.” I leaned my face against his and we spent the rest of the song like that. I don’t

even know how long the music played. It was probably only a few minutes but it felt like an hour. When the music stopped, I stepped away from him unwillingly, while we clapped. It was only then I realized there were other couples nearby. “You want to sit?” “Yes, please.” Taking our champagne flutes from the piano, we headed over to the comfortable furniture and settled ourselves. I confidently crossed my legs, the way I’d seen Angie had cross hers. “This is a beautiful dress you’re wearing.” “Thank you. It’s actually my roommate’s dress.” “Well, thank your roommate for me for letting you wear it.” I giggled. “I will!” It was at that point that Michael came over, clapping his hands together. “Ah, Mr. Marcus. I see you’ve had some champagne. I hope it’s to your liking?” “Yes, it is, very much so.” “And I also see you’ve availed yourself of one of our lovely ladies.” Mr. Marcus smiled. “Yes, yes I have.” “Would you and your lady friend like to us for dinner upstairs? You don’t want to miss the sunset. It promises to be glorious.” I lifted an eyebrow ever so slightly, smiling at my new friend. “You weren’t going to tell me your name, Mr. Marcus?” He chuckled. “Sorry, we haven’t been, ah, formally introduced. Will Marcus. You can just call me Will.” He stuck his hand out. I smiled at him as I took his hand. “Hi, Will. I’m Simone.” “Well, Simone, now that we’ve been formally introduced, how would you like to have dinner with me?”

“Yes, Will, I would love to have dinner with you.” Will turned to Michael and said, “You heard the lady.” “Very good. Right this way.” Will stood up, holding his champagne glass. Standing carefully, I looped my arm through Will’s, holding my drink, with my purse under my other arm. Together we followed Michael over to the stairs. I could walk a little better in these heels now that I had someone to hang on to. We followed Michael up the stairs, across the threshold and on to the roof. Involuntarily, I gasped out loud. There was a beautiful sunset shaping up. The sun was like a bright golden coin that was about to touch the horizon. The surface of the ocean was flecked with gold. Ships were silhouetted black against the sapphire sky. I said, “Could we get a table facing the ocean, please?” “But of course you could! Follow me.” We followed him across the floor to an empty table near the rails. As the sky was beginning to darken, candles were being lit. Strings of clear lights strung around the railing were coming on. It was such a romantic scene. I almost forgot that I was supposed to be working. Seconds later we were being seated. The waitress from down stairs appeared out of nowhere. “Hi, guys. I’m Kate, and I’ll be your waitress this evening.” We both said, “Hi, Kate.” She put a bottle of champagne in a bucket of ice next to our table and said, “Here’s your champagne, sir. And here are your menus.” Will said, “Thank you.” “You two just look over the entrée selections and I’ll be right back.”

We both said, “Thank you.” She smiled and moved off. I couldn’t help staring out at the ocean. “It’s going to be a beautiful sunset.” “Yes. It is going to be a beautiful sunset. And I almost missed it.” “Really?” “Yeah. I, uh, I didn’t really feel like going out tonight. But my agent told me a payday this huge deserves to be celebrated.” “Agent?” “Well, I don’t know if you’ve even heard of me or read my e-books?” I winced as I reached over and squeezed his arm. “I’m sorry, I haven’t been ebook shopping lately. It’s a long story.” “No worries. Just a couple of weeks ago I finalized a deal with a Hollywood movie producer to purchase the rights to one of my books, plus I get a writer’s fee for writing the script and a percentage of any money the movie makes.” “Really? How much was that payday, if you don’t mind my asking?” As I said that, I reached for my champagne flute and lifted it to my lips. “Five million dollars up front.” I nearly spit the champagne out. “Mmm! No way!” “Yeah, I said the same thing.” I swallowed carefully. “Wow. That was quite a payday.” “Yes, it was. So as I said, my agent got me to come here. Glad I did.” “I’m glad you did, too.” Will chuckled. Then he lifted his champagne flute. “Here’s to beautiful sunsets.” I lifted mine, too. “Cheers.” Ding. We drank deeply.

“Simone. That’s a pretty name.” I smiled at him. “Thank you.” “Is that French?” “Yes, I believe it is.” “Pretty name for a pretty woman.” I winked at him over the top of my champagne glass. “You’re sweet.” Then he said, “Do you mind if I take a quick short video of you with my phone? You look lovely in candlelight.” I blushed. “Yes, you can, but just one.” He produced his cell phone from his jacket pocket. “Absolutely. Don’t forget to wave for the camera. Blow me a kiss.” Giggling, I did what he asked.

A very pleasant couple of hours later, I drained the last of my champagne from my crystal flute. The sky had long since gone completely dark. Ships in the bay had their lights on. The city lights were doing their nightly show. Altogether it was a very romantic scene. I couldn’t believe I was here. And to think I almost missed out on this. Some time earlier, Jacque had left with Roger. Most of the other couples had left as well. Now it was just Will and I, plus two or three other stragglers. The waitress came over and said, “How was everything, sir? Miss?” Giggling, I said, “It was very good, Kate.” Over the last couple of hours, I had definitely imbibed my fair share of champagne. I was giggling a lot. Along with the champagne, I’d had shrimp

fettuccine Alfredo that was to die for, plus absolutely divine strawberry ice cream from the dessert cart. Will smiled as he said, “Yes, it was all delicious. Please send my compliments to the chef, if you would.” She smiled widely. “Why certainly! Would you guys like anything else?” I said, “Oh, no, thank you. I’m quite full!” “And what about you, sir?” Will wiped his mouth with his napkin and said, “No, thanks, Kate, I’m full, too. If you could just bring me the check, please, we’ll be going.” “Certainly, sir. Right away.” She moved off, high heels clicking briskly. Will turned back to me and said, “I think this has been a pretty nice evening. What about you, Simone?” “Yes, it has been a very nice evening!” “Do you want to go home, or shall we take this elsewhere? I was kind of thinking we were getting along pretty well.” I was just about to agree. Then suddenly I let loose a huge yawn, followed by an embarrassed giggle, covering my mouth. Will laughed too, an indulgent laugh. “Well, I suppose that pretty much settles that.” “I’m sorry. I’ve had a long day.” “No apologies. I’ve had a long day, too.” I looked at him and said, “How about if we meet for coffee sometime? I know this great place at my favorite book store.” “Which one is it?” “The Barnes and Noble across from the mall.”

“Sounds good to me—by the way, how are you getting home?” “Oh…” My hand flew to my mouth. In all the excitement, I had totally, completely forgotten to ask Jacque about that. “Let me call a cab for you. Better yet, let me ride home with you.” Hiccup. Giggle. “You don’t need to do that.” “No, please. I insist. Let me just pay the check and we’re out of here.” I smiled. “Okay.” While he left a tip for the waitress and paid the bill, I got my cell phone and sent Jacque a quick text message not to wait up for me because I was on my way home. After that I found an unused plate and used it as a mirror while I repaired my lipstick. Then we were gone.

Almost half an hour later, the cab pulled into the parking lot of my apartment complex. Softly I said, “Thanks for the ride home, baby.” As I reached for the door handle, Will said, “No problem. But don’t go yet. Let me help you to your door.” “You don’t have to have to do that. I can make it.” Hiccup. “No, I’d feel better if I knew you made it inside.” “You so sweet, baby.” I opened the door, poured myself out and stood up, none too sure-footed in my somewhat intoxicated state, combined with six-inch stilettos. But somehow I managed to stand up straight and not trip and fall, or worse, twist my ankle. I heard Will say to the cabbie, “Wait for me while I take care of this, would you?” “You bet, sir.”

Suddenly Will was next to me. He said in a masculine comforting voice, “Let’s get you inside. Which one is yours?” Still giggling. Hiccup. “Number twenty-eight.” “Hold on to me. Come on.” I slipped my arm through his and held on while we started for my door. After a somewhat meandering but short walk, we finally arrived at my front door. I turned to him and said, “Thank you.” “No problem.” “I really had a great time.” He smiled. “So did I.” “I would ask you to come in. But my roommate would probably kill me.” His smile widened. Lines appeared on his face, mostly around his eyes. “Yeah, I hear you. Maybe next time, okay?” “Okay.” Then suddenly I leaned in and kissed him good night, a single soft touch of my lips on his. Then I kissed him again. And again. And again! Will licked his lips. He cleared his voice. “Uh, Simone?” “Yes, baby?” “You need to go inside. And my cab is waiting.” I giggled. “Yes. I hear you, baby.” Then I pulled back slowly, still holding on to his jacket lapels. I pulled a pad of sticky notes from my purse, wrote my name and number on it, and stuck it to his jacket, momentarily enthralled by the hard muscles of his chest. “Give me a call sometime. Don’t keep a girl waiting. Okay?” “I won’t.” “You promise?”

“I promise.” “Good. They serve really good hot cocoa at that place I told you about, whipped cream and everything.” “Sounds good. Don’t forget your purse.” “Oh! You are so sweet!” I kissed him again. Somehow I managed to find my keys and put the right key into the right lock. He stood there silently as I slid the key into the deadbolt and turned it, then slid the key into the knob and turned it. I took three careful steps inside, then turned around and smiled at him. “Good night, Will.” “Good night, Simone.” “Have sweet dreams, baby.” I blew him a kiss and then waved goodbye. He grinned, “You, too.” Slowly, I closed the door and latched the deadbolt. I giggled like a girl. A female voice said, “It’s about time you got home!” I jumped terribly as I spun around, hand to my chest. There was Jacque, still wearing her dress, sitting on the ottoman, legs crossed casually. “Shit, Jacque, you scared the hell out of me!” “Yes, I saw your tender little goodbye.” “I thought you and Roger were having some alone time.” She grinned. “Oh, trust me, honey, we had some alone time. In the back of his limo.” “Really?” “He enjoyed his blow job, trust me. It’s you we need to talk about.” Still blushing, I said, “Me? Why?”

“We need to talk about your performance, young lady.” Another spontaneous giggle escaped. “Okay. How did I do?” Jacque got up and slowly approached me. Click. Click. Click. She slipped her arms around my waist and looked in my eyes. “You. Were. Absolutely. Amazing!” “You really think so?” “Yes! Come on over here!” Jacque took my hand and we went to sit down on the couch. “You have to tell me everything.” “Everything everything?” “Everything. For starters, I could not believe how you just walked up to that guy and started talking to him like that!” Modestly I said, “It wasn’t that hard, really.” “It wasn’t that hard. Listen to you! I saw you two making goo-goo eyes at each other across your table, especially when he took out his cell phone.” “Oh, stop it, Jacque.” “I would have thought you two would be having your own alone time.” I felt my face blazing. “Well, it wasn’t because we didn’t want to.” “What happened?” “He asked me to come with him to a hotel.” Jacque gasped. “No way! What happened?” “I yawned.” I covered my mouth as I matched action to word. “Like that. I’m more than a little drunk.” “So what did he do then?” “He called me a cab.”

“That was sweet of him. And then what?” “I kissed him.” “No way! And then?” “And then we…said good night.” She patted my back. “Don’t worry, I’m sure you’ll hear from him again.” “To be honest, I hope I do.” “By the way, I might just let you have that dress. You look better in it than I do.” “I can’t take this dress. Roger bought it for you.” “Actually, he was the one who suggested you should have it.” “When was this?” “Right after you went off to keep Mr. Marcus company.” “By the way, Jacque, I should tell you that Mr. Marcus said to thank you for letting me borrow your dress.” Jacque grinned broadly. “So, take it! Don’t worry, Roger will buy me a new one.” “Well then…tell him thanks for me.” “I will!” “So you really think I did well tonight?” “I think you were brilliant!” “Oh, I was so nervous! And it wasn’t just the heels.” “I know you were, but you did very well. In fact, I have a feeling you’re going to get more assignments from Miss Barbour.”

“Really? You think so?” “Oh, honey, I know so. I will be sure to sing your praises when we go to pick up our checks next week.” “Thanks. I think.” “And you never know. That handsome hunk might request you.” I blushed. “I hope so.” “I have to say, you look very sexy in this dress…” “Thank you, Jacque…”

Chapter 5

A few days later, Jacque and I were back at the agency. She and I both were dressed casually in jeans and sweaters, my sweater too big and off the shoulder, with a scarf and terry cloth mule flats, for once. Angie stood up from her desk, wearing a sleek grey short-sleeved dress with matching suede boots, hair in a bun like usual. “Hi, ladies!” I walked forward first, putting my arms around her waist and scratching her back. We shared a quick kiss. “Hey, baby!” “Good to see you again, Simone.” “Good to see you, too, Angie.” “So, you ready to get paid?” “Very ready, Angie.” “Well, before you become independently wealthy, Miss Barbour wants to see you to find out how the night went. So let’s do that first, okay?” “Okay.” “By the way, how did it go?” Jacque, standing beside me, said, “You should have seen her, Angie. She was absolutely amazing. She worked that party like a pro.” Angie said to me, “Did you meet someone?” Jacque said, “Did she ever!” Blushing, I said, “Oh, stop it.” Angie said, “Who was it, Jacque?”

“Will Marcus, the romance book writer.” Angie hugged me. “Oh, nice! I heard he’s single!” Jacque grinned and said, “He might not be for very much longer.” Then she held up my hand. “Not after she dug these claws into him.” Angie said, “Oooohhh, you got your nails done. Pretty!” Blushing, I said, “Come on, you guys, stop already.” Angie once again touched the little ear piece and said, “Miss Barbour, Simone White is here to get her first paycheck. Yes, Miss Barbour.” She turned back to me and said, “Come on back with me, baby.” I followed Angie down the hall, not feeling quite so nervous this time. She knocked on the door twice and pulled it open. “Miss Barbour?” “Yes, come in, Angie. Simone, have a seat. Would you like anything to drink?” “Oh, uh, just water is fine.” Minutes later I was seated across from Miss Barbour with a bottle of water. Angie left the room and closed the door behind her. “Well, Simone, the reason why I have you in here was just to ask how things went for you at the party. Did you have fun at least?” “Oh, yes, Miss Barbour, I had a lot of fun.” “I see you made good use of your time at the salon.” “Well, yes, I did, but Jacque paid for it. I’m sure she told you.” “She did. She also told me you have an irer. The writer Will Marcus.” Blushing, I said, “Yes.” “Did he treat you well?”

“Yes. He did. He paid for dinner, even got a bottle of champagne. I got rather drunk, and he called a cab for me and made sure I got home safely.” “It sounds like you two hit it off pretty well.” “Yes, I think we did.” “Good. Now that you’ve gotten your feet wet, so to speak, how would you like to do a private escort assignment?” “A private assignment?” “Why, yes, Simone. I don’t just send my girls out to parties, as fun as they are. I also send them out on private, one-on-one escort assignments. Dinner, lunch, day trips. Glittering parties. Anywhere a man might go where he would want the company of a beautiful woman to make his day or evening extra special.” “Well, I suppose it might be fun to try an escort assignment. See how it goes.” “Good. Your irer from the party would like to see you again.” My heart leaped. “Really?” “Why, yes. And this time he’s willing to pay to meet you again.” “Oh. I see.” My enthusiasm suddenly dried up. “Would that bother you, if Will Marcus wanted to purchase your company?” “Yes. It would. It does bother me.” “Yes, well, don’t feel too bad. This recession has humbled many other strong independent women besides you. So you’re hardly alone.” “Thanks. I think.” “Simone. You might not think of it this way, but this is a job just like any other. I offer men a service just like any other company.” “I wouldn’t say that, Miss Barbour.”

“Don’t delude yourself, Simone. We all sell ourselves in one way or another to get something we want. Use our looks to get what we want. That’s the way our world works. Pretty women get what we want.” “Yes. I suppose so.” “So, what you do say? You just said yourself you wouldn’t mind trying it once, seeing how it goes. And Jacque says you’re a natural.” “She would. Well, I will it I did enjoy his company very much. So yes, I would like to try an escort assignment with Will and see how it goes. Then maybe I might consider assignments with other clients.” “Excellent. Let’s get the ball rolling, shall we?” “Yes. Let’s do that.” “Very good. Let’s call the client.” She picked up the phone and dialed a number, and then put the call on speaker. A male voice answered. “Hello.” My magic button shivered when I heard that voice. I felt it all the way through my jeans and boy short panties. “This is Jessica Barbour calling. May I speak with Will Marcus?” “Miss Barbour! Did you find Simone?” “Yes, Mr. Marcus, I certainly did.” “And what did she have to say about another meeting?” “She is very interested in another meeting, Mr. Marcus.” “Well that is just great news.” “Where did you want to meet?” “There’s this coffee shop next to the book store by the mall. I’m not really a coffee kind of guy but I figured we should start small.”

I sat there blushing, wanting to cover my face. I could not believe him! Miss Barbour carried on. “Well, I’m sure that would be lovely to start with coffee. How about tomorrow afternoon, say two o’clock?” “That would be fine. Shall I pick her up or meet her there?” “Pick her up here at the office, just for the first meeting.” “Of course. Well then, please tell Simone I shall be there tomorrow at two.” “I certainly will, Mr. Marcus.” “Thank you, Miss Barbour.” “You are very welcome, Mr. Marcus. See you tomorrow.” Miss Barbour hung up. Then she looked at me and said, “See, there you go.” I giggled and squealed like I was sixteen. “But now I have to give you some ground rules before your first assignment. Angie will give you the full list. Here’s a few to most of all.” I calmed down. “Ground rules. Okay.” “Well, first of all, just like with the party, I am paying you for your time. What happens on the date, stays on the date.” “Of course, Miss Barbour.” “I do not encourage my girls to have sex with a client. It complicates things and threatens to change what should be a business transaction into something else besides a business transaction. Psychology is an important part of this business.” “Right, Miss Barbour.” “Seriously, you can’t give a man too much all at once. You have to leave him wanting more, wondering what’s underneath your clothes. And men always want what they can’t have.” “Yes. I know.”

“But I also have rules meant for your protection. Like for instance if you say that you do not want to see a particular client again, he will not see you again. I will make sure he sees other women.” “That’s good to know.” “But at the same time, if a client requests a particular girl or makes it known he prefers a given girl over others, we can make sure the girl isn’t sent out with other clients, or make sure she’s available for him.” “Oh. I see.” Then she smiled again. “Get out of here. Go home. You need to pick out an outfit for your escort assignment tomorrow. And don’t spend that all in one place.” I stood up, giggling again, taking my first paycheck. “Yes, Miss Barbour!”

Twenty-four hours later, roughly, I was once again walking down the hallway, the sexy click-click-click of high heeled boots following me. I was dressed in a similar fashion to my interview last week, but in a much more casual way. I wore a solid red jersey-knit shirt dress with a sash belt and threequarter sleeves but with a flirtier, swingier skirt hem that could show off a little leg if I wanted. And of course my tall black boots. A couple of buttons were undone up top, to show off a red satin and lace bra. Cups running over with chocolate cleavage. Down below, matching barely there boy short panties. He wouldn’t see those unless he was very lucky. No pantyhose this time. Black purse slung over my shoulder, smelling of a sweet scent, I confidently strode into the office. “Hi, Angie.” Angie stood up and came over, wearing a white wrap dress and matching sky high pump shoes, looking beautiful. “Hi, baby!” We hugged and kissed. “Mmmwa!”

“You ready for your first escort assignment?” “Yeah. I think so. How do I look?” “Very nice.” “This isn’t too much?” “Not at all. You look fine. Just what I would wear to meet for coffee.” “Thank you.” “Go ahead and have a seat. Mr. Marcus should be here in just a few minutes.” “Okay.” Trying to look relaxed, I went over and sat down, crossing my legs. I reached over and grabbed a magazine from the coffee table. I saw Kim’s face on the cover and didn’t recoil in disgust this time. It seemed like I had hardly started to read the magazine when Angie said, “Simone.” I looked up. There he was! Just as I ed him, coming down the hallway, wearing a black t-shirt and rumpled blue jeans, soft black shoes and a black leather collarless jacket. As he came down the hallway toward the door, I caught his eye. Smiled and winked at him. Did a little finger wave. He smiled and waved back. By the time he came in the office, I was waiting for him at Angie’s desk. He came in and walked right up to me. I gave him a nice hug. “It’s good to see you again, baby.” He looked me up and down as he pulled back. “Good to see you, too, Simone. You look nice. You must like red.” I blushed. “Yes, I do. Thank you.” Will turned to Angie and said, “Do we need to see Miss Barbour before we leave?”

Angie said, “Nope. All we ask is that you drop her off back here afterwards.” He said, “No problem.” Then he turned to me and said, “You ready to go?” I smiled. “I’m all ready.” “Cool. Let’s go, then.” He held out his arm. I hooked mine through his. Angie said, “You two kids have a nice time.” I playfully rolled my eyes. “Thank you, Angie…”

A little while later, we were at the book store, walking into the coffee shop. We sat at a small round table with high stools for seats. Will said, “Thanks for meeting with me again.” “Well, I could hardly say no, not after that lovely evening at The Wharf.” He chuckled. “Yes, I must agree, that was a pretty nice night.” “I hope I didn’t embarrass you.” “Embarrass me? How?” “I was more than a little drunk. I giggle a lot when I get drunk.” “Don’t sweat it. I thought it was cute.” “Really?” “Really. Don’t worry about it.” “Okay. I won’t.” “Good.” I reached across and squeezed his hand. “You’re such a sweet baby.”

He grinned. “Have you been able to buy any books lately, electronic or otherwise?” I giggled. “No, not yet. But give me a minute and I’ll definitely take a crack at it. I have a lot of catching up to do.” “Good. That reminds me…” “Of what?” At that moment, the waitress arrived and said, “Hi. Can I take your orders?” I ordered first, excitedly. I missed getting iced mocha-chino-chocolate coffee shakes almost as much as getting my nails done. Will ordered hot cocoa with whipped cream on top. That made me blush. As the waitress moved off to get our orders, I said, “So, you were saying?” “Yeah, as I was saying, I figure this is a good place to give you this.” He slid a small flat box across the table towards me. “What’s this?” “It’s an e-book reader, with, uh, all of my books on it for you. Also you can read magazines on it if you want. It’s pre-paid.” “Oh, baby, that is so sweet! Thank you!” I leaned over and gave him a hug. He grinned. “You’re welcome.” “Now I can read Hype Hair more often.” “Cool. Also I wanted to give you this.” He took a manila envelope out of his jacket pocket and casually tossed it over to me. “What’s this?” “Open it.” I slit open the envelope with my thumb nail and peeked inside. My heart just about skipped a beat. “There’s got to be four thousand dollars in here!”

“Yes, I think there is. But you might want to lower your voice.” I whispered, “Sorry. What on earth is this for?” “Call it a tip. For excellent customer service.” “But we didn’t even do anything that night…” “Oh, you did more than you know.” I didn’t have a chance to press him on what he meant by that, as the waitress arrived with our drinks. He casually put a twenty-dollar bill on her tray. The girl said, “I’ll be right back with your change, honey.” Will said, “No, don’t bother, keep the change.” The girl looked startled for a second. Then she said, “Thank you!” “You’re welcome.” She moved off to the other tables, still shocked. I said, “Well. Aren’t you the big tipper?” He smiled. “Just paying it forward.” I didn’t get the chance to ask him about that, either. He glanced casually at his watch, a surprisingly plain black plastic watch with hands on it and numbers on the bezel instead of the time in numbers. “We still got a couple of hours before the office closes and I have to get you back over there. Why don’t we go check out the fiction section?” “Sounds good to me. Let’s go.”

The afternoon autumn sun was shining into the windows on the second floor as Will walked with me down the hallway to the agency.

As we walked, I said, “Thank you for a wonderful afternoon, Will.” He said, “You’re welcome. Thanks again for meeting with me.” “No problem, baby. I still can’t believe you gave me all that money.” “Well, like I said, think of it as a tip, for your services.” My voice chilled and hardened noticeably, “Services?” “Not what you’re thinking, Simone. Just what you’ve been doing already. Nothing more than that.” My voice thawed. “Okay.” “I’d like to have you to stay overnight at my house.” “Overnight? For what?” “I told you. Doing what you’ve already been doing.” “What are you…” He placed a fingertip on my lips. “Don’t start asking questions. Just be ready to go on another date with me. Okay?” “Okay.” “Good. Now, let’s get you safely delivered to the agency so they don’t think I’m some sort of serial killer or something and I’ve just hidden your body somewhere.” I giggled, “Right!” “And enjoy my books.” “I will. Thank you again, that was very sweet of you.” “You’re welcome. And uh, give me a call if you want. Tell me what you think.” “I will, baby!”

I gave him a hug, a sweet little kiss, and pulled back slowly. Then he walked me the rest of the way down the hall and into the office, where Angie was waiting. Glancing at her watch, she rose from her desk, smiling. “Right on time, guys!” Angie and I hugged. “Did you two have a good time?” “Oh my goodness, we had the best time. I know I did, anyway.” Angie turned to Will. “Come on, be honest now, you had a good time.” He nodded, grinning. “I had a very good time. Such a good time, in fact, that I want to hire her again.” Angie flashed her eyes at me, then she turned back to him. “Well, just give us a call and let us know! Miss Barbour would love to have you as a regular client.” “I know. Well, ladies, it’s been a pleasure. Have a good evening, Simone.” “Thank you, Will. You do the same.” He left, not without throwing a grin at me over his shoulder. I turned to Angie and squeezed her hands, wanting to scream. A female voice said, “You two make me sick.” I turned. Jacque stood there. “Please don’t tell me you’ve been waiting here for us all this time.” “Okay, I won’t. But I was. Who else was going to take you home after I dropped you off for your very first escort assignment?” I rolled my eyes. “Oh, stop it, Jacque.” “Come on, we don’t have all night. I’m hungry, let’s get dinner. Besides, I want to hear all about your first escort assignment.” I said, “Good night, Angie.” “Good night, baby, and nice work.”

“Thanks, Angie.” Jacque took my hand and we walked out of the office together. Once Jacque and I were safely out in the hallway, I said, “By the way…” “Yes?” “Dinner’s on me.” Jacque lowered her voice and said, “How much did he give you?” “Not out here.” It wasn’t until we were not only down the hall and around the corner but also safely in the elevator that I cracked open my patent-leather purse and showed her the money tucked safely inside. Jacque clutched my arm. “Oh my gosh! Look at all that money! Wow, he must really like you…” “Oh, stop it, Jacque. But whatever you want for dinner is on me.” “It’s a date, honey-bunches!” I rolled my eyes playfully as the elevator opened on the ground floor. “Come on. We don’t have all night.”

Chapter 6

A few more days later I was at home, staring at the calendar on the fridge and thinking that it was a good thing I was going to work the next week. Making five thousand dollars in forty-eight hours sure turned my life around. My bills were all caught up, and probably on Friday I was going to go shopping for new business separates. And new shoes which of course included new boots, real leather this time. Hey, a girl has to look good. And then, the phone rang. “Hello.” “Hey, Simone, it’s Angie.” “Hi, Angie. What’s up, baby?” “Just letting you know, your check from your assignment last week will be ready for you tomorrow.” “Okay. Thanks.” “And Miss Barbour will have a new assignment for you.” “Oh. Okay.” “What’s that Oh for?” “Nothing, it’s just that my job starts next week and I have no idea what the hours are going to be like and if I can even keep doing this escort thing.” Angie mock-sighed. “Nothing but problems, Simone.” Despite myself, I laughed. “This problem I can handle, trust me.” “Well, don’t worry, if your job doesn’t work out, Miss Barbour will be more than

happy to have you even part-time.” “Thanks.”

The very next day I was in the office, by myself this time, oddly enough. It was a rather chilly day in the first week of October, so I wore a jacket and a scarf over my sweater and jeans and flat wool boots, my hair in a bun against the wind. I came inside and felt comforted by the sight of Angie at her desk, wearing a long-sleeved red wrap sweater dress with a plunging v-neck, and black leather stiletto boots. She got up, smiling, and gave me a hug. “Nice to see you, Simone.” “Nice to see you, too, Angie.” “You’re getting to be a regular in here, baby.” “I know!” “Come on, let’s get you in to see Miss Barbour.” “Okay.” Seconds later I was seated before Miss Barbour yet a third time. She looked a little intimidating in all black, satin blouse with matching leather pencil skirt. Sexy too. She smiled and said, “Well, Simone, you probably already know why you’re here.” “Angie said you might have another assignment for me.” “Yes. I always ask first.” “That’s very nice of you.” “Simone, all my girls can turn down an assignment if they wish. I simply find the client a new girl. what I said, this a business like any other. You can turn down the assignment if you wish.”

“Who is it with?” “Your irer from the party - he specifically requested you. This could be profitable for you, Simone. Profitable for me as well, I won’t deny it. But you could make a lot of money.” “Okay…” “I you said you got a job.” “Yes.” “I also you said it’s temporary.” “Yes.” “The only reason why I bring this up is that you might consider the advantages of having a wealthy man in your corner. It could benefit you.” “I have considered it, believe me.” “You’ve thought about what I said last week?” “Yes, I did, a lot.” “And what conclusion did you come to?” “I would like to see him again.” Miss Barbour smiled, making her seem more human. “Excellent, Simone. Let’s call the client.” She picked up the phone and dialed a number. “Hello.” “Hi, Mr. Marcus, please.” “This is Mr. Marcus.” “Hi. This is Jessica Barbour. I wanted to discuss your proposal.” “Ah, yes, Miss Barbour. Have you had a chance to speak with Simone?”

I smiled at the way he said my name. Miss Barbour’s own smile widened slightly as she said, “Why, yes, I have, Mr. Marcus. She said she is very interested in meeting you again.” “Excellent. I do hope there’s no problem with having her stay over night?” “No. All I ask is that we know where she’s at.” “Yes, of course.” “Very good. The only thing we have left to discuss is how the day will go.” “Right.” He seemed to pull himself together. “Well, I have a huge event to attend tomorrow evening, a fund-raising auction where I’ve donated an autographed copy of one of my novels to auction off.” “Oh, you mean for the domestic violence charity?” “Yep, that one. I could use come company for the evening.” “Of course. And what then?” “Well, from there, a late dinner and then straight home.” “That sounds like a lovely evening. I’m jealous.” Will laughed. “What’s the dress code for the auction?” “Oh, yes. It’s not black tie or evening gown, but definitely dress up.” “Of course, Mr. Marcus. And how were you planning to pick her up?” “Ah, yes, I’ve hired a car for the evening so neither of us has to worry about driving home afterwards.” “Excellent, Mr. Marcus. And what time shall you be picking her up?” “About five-thirty.”

“Very good. Well then Mr. Marcus, I shall inform Simone and make sure that she’s all ready for you.” “Excellent. Thank you, Miss Barbour.” “You’re welcome, Mr. Marcus.” “Bye.” “Bye-bye.” Miss Barbour hung up and then looked at me. I gave an excited squeal. “I can refer you to a dress shop if you need a nice dress for the evening.” “Oh, thank you, but I have a dress I can wear.” “Are you sure?” “Oh, yeah, I have the perfect dress in mind.” “Okay, well, you heard what I said to the client. Keep me informed of everywhere you go and what you do.” “Yes, Miss Barbour.” “He seems like a pretty nice guy, yes, but this is going to cover his rear, too.” “Right.” “I’m going to give you a special text message code. Send a message to this code the second you arrive at his residence. Okay?” “Okay.” “And don’t be afraid to call this other number I’m about to give you if you get in trouble and need to be rescued.” I smiled. She sounded just like Jacque. “Don’t worry, Miss Barbour, I won’t.” “Okay. Good. Well, Simone, if you keep this up, you might just have a very

bright future with this agency.” “Thank you, Miss Barbour.” I didn’t bother correcting her.

The very next afternoon, at about four-thirty, I hopped out of the shower, then peeked out of the bathroom door and said, “Jacque, baby?” Footsteps came to the door. “Yes, honey?” “Could you come in here and rub my back with baby oil, please?” Jacque raised her eyebrows. “Baby oil? Damn, girl, you two might as well skip the auction and go straight to his place!” I rolled my eyes. “Oh, stop it. Just get in here.” Jacque quickly closed the door and picked up the bottle of baby oil. “Look, all I’m saying is, the last time you did this before a date, was a long time ago.” “Yes, I know. Would you just rub my back, please?” “Okay. Rubbing your back.” I stood there while she rubbed baby oil on my back. “Mmmmm. Thank you.” “No problem, honey. Should I rub your booty, too?” “Yes, please.” “You know, I hope you to invite me to the wedding.” “Wedding? Whose wedding?” “Yours and Will’s. Who did you think I meant?” “Nobody is getting married.” “Not right now, you mean. That’s why I say you better to invite me cause I was the one who got you invited to the party.”

Smiling and blushing self-consciously, I said, “Repeat after me. Nobody is getting married. This isn’t even a date. It’s an escort assignment.” “To the auction. And then to dinner. And then to home. Sounds like a date to me.” I rolled my eyes again. “Oh, stop it.” “Well, this was exactly how Roger and I met. Matter of fact, even Miss Barbour credits me for saving him as a client.” “He wasn’t feeling the escort thing?” “It was just a matter of chemistry. Roger and I had great chemistry from the word jump. And now we have something more.” “But not something permanent.” “Simone. Just let this be whatever it is. Don’t expect anything.” “Except the money?” “Yes. Except the money. But it’s still okay to like him. Now let’s oil up the rest of you. We don’t have all day.” “Right.”

Another hour later, I stepped into the living room, greeted by wolf whistles from the kitchen. “Damn, girl, look at you! Woof, woof, woof!” “Oh, stop it.” “Where have you been hiding this dress?” “Why, this old thing?” “Don’t let me borrow this dress. You might not get it back.” “Will would probably buy me a new one. But thank you.”

I was wearing a burnout silk halter dress. It was fitted, followed close to my body, and went almost to the floor, stopping at about my ankles. It had a halter strap and a beaded empire waist. The dress was a swirl of red, orange and purple paisleys on a black field. With the dress I wore Jacque’s heels again. And finally I wore my hair up in a loose bun with bangs framing my face. “I hope Will doesn’t have chest pains, cause girl, you will give him some.” She mimed calling someone. “Uh, yeah, 911? My date just had a heart attack!” “Oh, stop it!” Just as I dropped a tube of lipstick in a matching clutch purse, my phone rang. “Hello.” A male voice said, “Hi, Simone.” My voice instantly softened. “Hi, baby.” “You ready?” “Yes. I’m all ready, Will.” “Cool. The car I hired is just about to pull into the parking lot.” “And you’re in it, right?” He chuckled deeply. “Of course I am!” I laughed, too. “Hey, just checking.” His chuckles subsided. “As I was saying, the car is pulling up to your door right now and you’ll be getting a knock in just a few minutes.” “Okay. See you in a few minutes!” I hung up. Jacque said, “I won’t bother waiting up for you.” I blushed. “I won’t be coming home tonight.” “Got your stuff?”

“Yeah, I packed a bag.” Jacque came around the kitchen counter and gave me a tender hug and kiss. “I’ll expect details when you come back.” “Absolutely.” Suddenly there was a knock at the door. “That’s my cue.” With a single last gentle kiss, I pulled back from Jacque’s embrace and went to the door. “Yes?” “Miss White? I’ve been instructed by Mr. Marcus to take your luggage and escort you to the car he’s hired for your evening out together.” “Let me just get my things.” The young man took my overnight bag and put it in the trunk, while I kept a little clutch purse. He opened the back door for me and helped me in. Will was waiting for me. Smiling, casual, relaxed. I gave him a hug. “Hi, baby. How you doing?” He smiled wider. “I’m great, now.” “Oh! Did you miss me?” “Yeah, I did.” “How much?” “This much.” He leaned in and kissed me! I swallowed. “That’s a lot.” “Sorry, but you did ask me how much I missed you.” “Yes. I did.” “Did you miss me?” “Yes. I did. Very much.” He grinned. “How much is that?”

“This much.” I kissed him back. He swallowed, his face turning pink. I squeezed his arm. At that moment the car started moving. Will said, “Would you like something to drink before we arrive at the auction?” “Yes, please.” Minutes later I was holding a drink. “I’ve never been to an auction before, I must it.” Will said, “Neither have I, to be honest.” “Tell me more about this auction. What are they selling anyway?” “That’s a good question. The auction is being held by this organization that fights domestic violence against women. They invited me to donate a signed manuscript to auction off and I gladly accepted. So here we are.” “No way. That was very cool of you.” “Thank you. It was cool to be invited.” “I’ll bet.” He took a sip of his drink. “Speaking of my books, have you had a chance to read any of them yet?” “Yes, actually, I have read a couple of them.” “What do you think so far?” “I think you like black women.” He grinned self-consciously. “Yeah. Guilty as charged.” “No worries.” I patted his arm. “I think it’s sweet.” “Thank you. But did you like what you read?” “Yes, I did. Your fiction spoke to me. If I didn’t know you were a man, I would

have thought you were a black woman. You write from the female perspective so well.” “Thank you. I appreciate that.” “No problem. Thanks for inviting me along. Did you consider anyone else?” He smiled easily. “Nope. Just wanted you.” I blushed. “By the way, what do you think of this dress?” “I like it. You look very pretty.” I leaned against him. “Thank you, baby.” “By the way, do I look okay?” “You look very handsome.” And he did, dressed in a black blazer and slacks, with a plain white button-down shirt open at the collar, and big white sneakers. “I think we’re going to have another good night.” “Yes, I do, too.” He raised his glass. “Here’s to a good night.” “I’ll drink to that.” Clink.

Chapter 7

It was getting rather late as the car was driving down a quiet suburban street, past rows of identical houses. “So this is your neighborhood, huh?” “Yep. What do you think?” “I like it.” “Thanks.” The car finally eased to a stop. Seconds later, the driver opened the door and offered his hand to me. Minutes later, I was standing at Will’s front door, as he said, “Hang out here for a minute while I pay the driver.” “Okay.” I watched him with a distinct sense of pride as he went back down to the car and spoke with the driver. While he did that, I ed to send a text. He handed a couple of bills to the driver who said, “Thank you, sir. Have a nice evening.” “Be careful out there, huh?” “Yes, sir. Thank you.” Smiling, Will came back up the steps and unlocked his front door. Then he picked up my bag and gestured me inside. “After you, gorgeous.” “Why, thank you!” As I took three steps inside, heels going click-click-click, he snapped on the lights and closed the door behind me.

Will casually threw his keys on the little table next to the door and said, “Be it ever so humble, there’s no place like home.” I laughed. “No place like it. No place I know.” He laughed, too. “I think you’re thinking of show business. But what do you think?” “I like it.” And I did. As I came in, the living room was on my left. The kitchen was in the far corner, past the living room. On my right was a coat closet. Modern but not too modern furniture filled the room, which was bright and airy with a clean overall look. And best of all, he had hardwood floors. “Feel free to make yourself at home. Want something to drink?” “Yes, please.” From the door I crossed to the couch. Click. Click. Click. And then I eased down and crossed my legs. “I just happen to have a bottle of champagne in the fridge if you want some.” “Champagne would be great. Thank you.” Will busied himself in the kitchen. Minutes later I heard a loud foop, followed by a fizz as he poured champagne, then came back over to the couch, bearing two crystal champagne flutes. He sat down next to me and handed me my glass of champagne. “Here you go.” “Thank you.” I took a sip and said, “Wait a minute. Is this…” “Yes. I went back to The Wharf and bought a bottle of their champagne.” “That is very sweet, baby. Thank you!” I kissed his cheek, and took a measured sip. “Wow, you sure know how to treat a lady.” He grinned and shrugged. “What can I say? You know a few things at my age.” “Yes. Like what you want in a woman?” “Yes.”

“That you like black women, for instance?” “Yes. I like black women. I confess.” “Yes, I noticed that from your books, like I said. Can I ask you something?” “Of course.” “Why do you like black women so much?” “Well, it’s a bit of a long story. But the short version is that black women remind me of a safe place, you know, kind of a shelter from the storm sort of thing. It probably sounds really corny, I know.” I sniffed and wiped a tear away. “Not at all. It’s actually very sweet.” He grinned. “Thanks.” “Dinner. Champagne. Thank you for a wonderful evening, Will.” “You’re welcome.” “Where do we go from here?” “Where do you want it go?” “Hmmmm! You thought you were going to get some booty, right?” He blushed. “I hoped I would. Yes. I confess.” “Miss Barbour told me she discourages her girls from having sex with her clients.” “I did not know that.” “So just that, while I’m doing this…” I took his champagne flute, put it on the coffee table with mine, turned back around, and started kissing him. Short sweet quick kisses. Long deep hot kisses. Stuck my tongue in his mouth. Played it against his. Felt him respond to me, put his arms around my waist, pulled me closer. I ran my nails through his luscious locks.

Kissed his neck. Kissed his earlobes. Nibbled his earlobes. Breathed on his neck. Ran my tongue up and down his neck. Kissed it again. “Simone…” “Mmmmm…” Worked my way down some more. I didn’t even bother taking his jacket off. I just unbuttoned his shirt. I kissed my way down his firm chest and tummy and rubbed my breasts on his crotch. Then I climbed off the couch, got down on the floor and in between his legs. Unzipped his fly. Eased his dick out. Stroked it. Slowly. Raked my nails down the shaft of his dick to his balls. Up to the head. Down. Up. Down. It didn’t take very long at all for his dick to get hard and straight. I lifted my eyes up at him. “Do you like it when I do that?” He groaned. “Yes, Simone. Yes.” “Your dick sure does.” He chuckled, as he gasped. “Yes. I like it.” “This is why I love having my nails done. It drives men crazy when I do this.” “I’ll bet it does.” I kept stroking his dick slowly. Down. Up. Down. Up. Kept stroking until I saw a telltale bead of moisture at the very tip of his dick. “Can I tell you something, Will?” He gulped. “Sure. What?” “You’re my first white man.” “Really?” “Yes. Am I your first black woman?”

“Yes, actually, you are.” “Really?” “Really. Never been with a black woman before.” “Aw! You poor baby!” He chuckled. “Yeah.” “Well then, let’s discover what all the excitement is about.” I bent down and took his dick in my mouth. “Mmmm. Mmm. Mmm. Tastes so good, baby.” “Yeah?” “Yeah! Mmm. Mmmm! Mmmm! Slllurrrp. Slllurrrp! Mmm! Mmm! Mmmm!” At the top of one more long slow suck, I let his dick out of my mouth. I stood up and helped him up. Then I pushed one of the ottomans up against the couch. As I lay down, I reached up and grabbed his jacket lapels and pulled him down with me, kissing him again. Deep hot kisses. “Taste this chocolate pussy, baby. I know you want to. I guarantee there is nothing better.” He grinned. Kissed me back. Kissed my earlobes. Kissed the nape of my neck. The bridge of my shoulder. Made me squirm. I slipped my arms around his waist, pulled him closer. I urged him on with husky ionate whispers. “Oh, baby, you know a few things about women, don’t you?” His hot breath was on my neck as he said, “One or two things.” “I know you do!” His lips kept moving down some more, until he pushed the halter strap of my dress to one side so my breast popped out. His tongue gently circled my nipple and made it hard, then his lips wrapped around my nipple and sucked. I ran my nails through his hair. “Mmmmmm!” He made soft popping sounds as he sucked my right breast. He moved to my left

breast. Right. Left. Right. Left. So gentle. So good! “Mmmm! Oh my sweet baby…” And then suddenly I noticed he was slowly pushing the hem of my dress up. Then his soft lips were kissing the inner part of my thighs. And moving up. Ever so slowly. “Oh, shit! What are you doing?” “You can.” Kiss. “Dish it out.” Kiss. “But you can’t.” Kiss. “Take it?” “Been a while, baby!” “Same here.” “Mmmmmm! Oh my God, baby, please, stop fooling around and eat my Goddamn chocolate pussy!” “If you insist.” And then suddenly his tongue was pressing my magic button! I shivered and bit down on my bottom lip. “Aahhhhuuhh! Mmmmm!” I have no idea how long he was down there. Only that he was down there! Licking. Sucking. Slurping! “Oh, shit!” I squealed out loud. “Aahhhhuuuh! Yes! Yes! Oh, shit! Eat the fucking shit out of that fucking chocolate pussy!” He chuckled as he continued giving my magic button a good tongue-lashing. “Oh, shit! Oh, shiiiit!! Aahhhhh, shit! Make me come! Make me come! Oooohhhh God! Yeeehhhhesss! Aahhhh! Ahhhuhh!” And then, silence. I rested there for a minute, staring at the ceiling, listening to my heart go thumpthump-thump. I tried to slow my rapid breathing. I watched as my breasts were heaving up and down, up and down.

Swallowing, I licked my lips. “Oh my God, that was so good!” Will chuckled as he stood up. Then he started taking off his clothes! “What are you doing, baby?” My voice was soft and sweet as a pat of melted butter. He grinned down at me. “I was hoping to get some of that booty.” I grinned back. “Can you fuck as good as you lick?” Then he actually stood up! I sat up a little. “Where are you going?” “Be right back.” He ran off somewhere, then came back seconds later with a condom and what I hoped was lube. “You want to do the honors?” “You damn right I want to.” I sat up and sucked his dick. “Mmmm. Mmmm. Mmm!” Then I rolled the condom on. I squeezed out a little dab of lube on my fingers and stroked his dick to get it all over. “There. I think you’re ready now.” He chuckled. “Yes. Definitely.” I giggled, “That’s a good boy!” Then I lay back down across the ottoman. Spread my legs and smiled up at him. Held out my arms to him. He was a handsome man with a beautiful body, muscular, toned. Not body-builder toned but surfer dude toned. Something masculine for me to hold on to. I wanted him so bad it wasn’t funny! “Come here, baby.” He slid on top of me. I stared into his eyes and wrapped my arms around his waist. He kissed me as he spread my legs and moved in between. “That’s it. There you go.”

“Like that?” “Yes, just like that, baby. You sure you can handle black pussy?” “What do you mean?” I smiled up at him. “Your dick might get a sweet tooth.” He leaned down and kissed me. “I guess I’ve been warned.” I giggled as I kissed him back. “Yes, you have!” I reached down between his legs, lightly held his hard dick and deftly guided it towards my wet waiting pussy. Will didn’t need to be told the rest. His hips went down. He slipped inside me. “Mmmmm!” “You like that?” “Oh, yes!” We stayed like that for a second. ed at the hip, you could say. He stared into my eyes. I stared into his. He gently kissed me. Swirled his tongue against mine. “Such beautiful eyes.” I giggled. “You so sweet, baby.” I lightly ran my nails up and down his back. “You feel so good inside me.” Then his hips rose. And dipped! “Oh!” And rose. And dipped. “Oh!” And rose. And dipped!

“Oh, baby! Oh, shit! Ohhh! Ohhh! Ohhh!” I couldn’t tell you long we fucked on his couch. How long my cries of ion echoed off his walls. Only that I enjoyed every fucking minute of it. With each Oh I dug my nails in his back. Arched into him. Squeezed my legs around him. My jaws clenched in ion, I growled, “Oooohhh, yes, baby. Fuck the fucking shit out of this black pussy! Oh, shit! Oh! Oh! Oohhh!” “Such. Language.” “Sorry! Shit! Can’t. Help. It!” “You’re a nasty black slut who likes white dick.” “Oh, shit! Say it again!” He bent down and whispered hoarsely in my ear. “You’re a nasty black slut who likes white dick.” “Oh shit! Yes, I’m a nasty black slut! Keep fucking my fucking pussy Goddammit!” His breathing on my neck got more insistent. “Oh, God! Oh God! Oh shit! Ohhhh! Ooohhh, shit! Ohhh shit! Ooohh yeahh! Ooohh shit yes make me fucking come!” “You going to come again?” “Oh, shit! Yes baby make me come again with that big white dick!” “Never had white dick, have you?” “No, baby!” He grunted. “You poor thing…” “Oh, God! Yes! Yes! Oh God! Ooohhhh! Ohhh! Oooohhhh yeeeehhhessss! Ohhhhhhh, shit! Ahhhhuuuh, shit! Aaaahhhhh shiiiit!”

At that moment he groaned loudly and I raised the roof with my orgasm. And then silence. Once again I stared at the ceiling. Listening to my heart, and his heart, too. Slowly, my death grip relaxed. I gently ran my nails up and down his back, soothing him. Our laughter mixed with soft, sweet kisses. Finally he looked me, sweating. “Was that good or what?” I could still feel orgasmic aftershocks pulsing through my pussy. “Mm-hm! Every lover I have from now on should be like you. So attentive and sweet. Not selfish.” He kissed me gently. “Thank you.” I kissed him back. “You’re welcome.” Still ed at the hip, he slipped his arms underneath me and I put my arms around his neck and kissed him. We stayed like that for a while. He said, “That was my first time in a long time. What about you?” “Yes. Mine, too, in a very long time. I could love on you all night.” “Do you say that to all your clients?” I pressed my fingers against his lips. “There’s something I should tell you.” “What?” “I don’t usually do…this.” “You mean accompany strange men on dates for money?” “Yes. That.” “Well, don’t worry. I don’t usually pay strange women to go out with me, either. So I guess that makes us even.” I laughed. “Okay.” He said, “Why don’t we make ourselves more comfortable. You’re welcome to

sleep in the guest bedroom if you’d feel more comfortable there.” “You wouldn’t mind?” “Not at all.” Will gently pulled his dick from my pussy and stood up, then took my hands in his and helped me sit up. I reached over for my champagne flute and drank deeply from it. Then I stood up on somewhat wobbly legs. With a definite sense of relief mixed with pride, I noted the condom was still on and had contained his orgasm. His dick was happily flaccid. Then I rearranged my dress to cover myself. “Where’s the guest bedroom, baby?” He picked up his own glass of champagne. “Down the hall. First door on your right. Bathroom’s just across from it if you want to freshen up.” I picked up my bag nearby and said, “Yes. Thank you.” Slowly, I walked down the hall, found the guest bedroom, turned the lights on, and plopped my bag on the bed. I quickly changed into a white cotton cami and matching white shorts. Let my hair down and flipped it. Then I went into the bathroom and took off my makeup, brushed my teeth and rinsed out my mouth. Then I went back across the hall to the bedroom. I cried. And laughed, too. I had done that one thing I had absolutely swore I would not ever do - spread my legs for a strange man. For money. Disapproval was a luxury I couldn’t afford, but I did not approve of what I had done. After-glow coursed through me too, making my emotions a hot mess. I heard Will’s voice say, “Hey. What’s all that for?” I turned. He stood there. He was looking sexy in a neutral blue tank top and black pajama bottoms. Bare feet. Hair messed up. Weakly I said, “Nothing…” He held out his arms. “Come here, Simone.”

Like a little girl I walked right into his arms and buried my face in his chest. Sobbed for good measure. His strong arms around me were soothing. We stayed like that for a long time. After a little while I pulled back and looked at him. “Talk to me. What’s wrong?” “I told you. I don’t usually do this.” He held me, gently but firmly. His smile was gentle, too, and understanding. “Hey. In case nobody told you, there’s a recession still going on out there. Despite what the experts might say.” I smiled faintly. “Yes. I know. I just didn’t want you to think badly of me.” I hung my head. My shame was real. “Trust me, I don’t think badly of you.” Softly I said, “No?” “Why don’t you get some sleep? I know you must be tired. We can talk in the morning.” I practically whispered the words. “About what?” “You need money. I need a friend.” “But…” He placed his fingers on my lips. “In the morning. Get some sleep. Okay?” He bent down slightly and kissed me gently. That kiss went straight to my tip-toes. Then he pulled back. I smiled at him. When I spoke, my voice trembled. “Okay. Good night, Will.” “Good night, Simone.” He left. I turned the lights off and climbed into bed. I was asleep before I even pulled the covers up.

The next morning, I woke up to find my emotions and my mind remarkably placid. I must confess, I needed those two orgasms badly. It was a cool morning. A slight breeze stirred my hair as I stepped on the deck overlooking the beach. The sky was bright and sunny. The ocean sounded serene. With a smile on my face, I padded into the bathroom, then went up the hallway and into the kitchen, where Will was making breakfast. At my entrance he looked up and smiled. “Hey. Good morning.” I smiled at him. “Good morning.” I walked up to him and gave him a sweet little kiss. “What are you making? Smells good.” “I thought you might be a little hungry, so I’m making eggs for breakfast.” “You thought correctly. Thank you, baby.” “You’re welcome. Just a couple more minutes and we can eat.” “Cool.” I went around to the other side of the counter and sat on a stool. “I have to it, I don’t know very many men who can cook.” He grinned. “I told you, you need to spend your time with better men.” Minutes later we sat down to breakfast. I was shoveling eggs and toast into my mouth ravenously. He said, “Wow. Are you always this hungry after sex?” I giggled, my mouth full. “No. Only after good sex.” Will grinned broadly. We ate in silence. Only until after we were full did he take our plates over to the sink. Then he said, “So. What do you have to say about my little idea?” “Well, I need to talk it over with you before I agree to anything…” “Of course, let’s talk .”

“Right. What exactly are you proposing?” “Well. I would call Miss Barbour and ask that she make you available to me when I need you.” “That sounds okay. What else?” “I’m not looking for a commitment. I want to tell you that right now.” “Okay. I appreciate your honesty.” “You can see other men if you want. And the reason why I say that is because starting next week, I am going to be super busy adapting my novel to a screen play and I won’t be going out a lot. Every once in a while I will need a friend. Can you do that?” I grinned as I nodded. “Yeah. I can do that.” He grinned back. “Good.” We kissed. “So I guess that settles that.” “Guess so.” We kissed for a few minutes. And then, quite suddenly, a horn honked outside. Will looked at the clock on the microwave. “Wow. Is it time for that already?” I said, “Time for what?” But Will looked at me and said, “Go get dressed and meet me outside.” Not knowing why on earth I needed to get dressed, I headed back to the guest bedroom and pulled on a pair of tight white jeans with a t-shirt and then headed outside. A car was sitting by the curb. It was a small car, white, with four doors, and a strange set of s in the roof. A man approached Will and handed him a set of keys, then got in another car and drove away. I said, “What is this?” “This is an honest to goodness solar powered electric car. Just like my SUV.” “And you just bought this?”

“Yep. For you.” And he handed me the keys. My mouth open wide, I hugged him and kissed him and said, “Oh my God, thank you! Do you know how much gas money this will save me?” “Yes. A fortune. Which reminds me.” “What?” “One more thing. Then you can be going back to Jacque.” “Okay.” He took my hand and we went back inside the house. “So what’s this one more thing?” “This.” Suddenly he was handing me a thick manila envelope. “And what is this?” “You said you needed money.” “Oh my God. How much is in here?” Innocently, he said, “I don’t know. You can count it if you want.” My heart skipped a beat as I spied several stacks of hundred-dollar bills inside. “This was for the sex, wasn’t it?” “That was only part of it. Mostly it’s for what happened before the sex.” “Aw, that’s sweet. Every time we go out you’ll give me money?” “If you need it, yes.” “And in return all I have to do is just be your friend?” Will cracked a grin. “Well, a little more than that, I’ll it.”

I giggled. “Yes…” “But yeah, that’s all. Don’t take this money if you can’t do that.” I kept the envelope, knowing what that meant. “I can do that.”

I was driving away from Will’s house, grinning insanely. I had no idea how much money was in that envelope but I didn’t care. I had a new car, and a new man on my side. It was nice. Will and I made love again before I left, in his bed this time. Well, fucked, anyway. We talked about his writing for nearly an hour, non-stop. It was easy to talk with him, even after sex. He’s a very talented man. And I felt very comfortable. Kissing him tenderly, leaving him with a sleepy satisfied smile and a flaccid dick, I finally climbed out of bed, took a quick shower, put my white t-shirt and tight white jeans back on with matching stiletto sandals, climbed into my new car and drove away. But I knew I would be returning there. Just didn’t know when. But that was okay. Twenty-odd minutes later I pulled into the parking lot of my apartment complex and went inside my apartment, still grinning a mile wide. Jacque was still lounging on the couch as always, watching TV. But the second I came in, she jumped up and hugged me. “There you are, honey! How did it go? I want to hear every single detail!” I dropped my bag on the floor. “Deal. But first I want to show you something.” “What, honey?” I took Jacque’s hand, led her outside and showed her the car. She freaked. “Oh my God, he bought you a new car?”

“Yes. And you’ll notice it’s electric.” “Oh my God! He really likes you, honey.” “I know!” We both screamed. Jacque turned to me. “So? How does it feel to have your very own sugar daddy?” “It feels good.” “Think you can live with it?” I took a breath, and calmly released it. “Yes. I can live with it.” “Come on, let’s go back inside! You have to tell me everything!” Still holding hands, we went back inside together.

About The Author

Jon Bradbury is the author of ten interracial black woman-white man erotic romance e-books including Worst Kept Secret and The Professor, and is busy madly writing more. His other interests include reading, watching Leverage and So You Think You Can Dance on TV, music, the internet and video games. He writes full-time now thanks to the never-ending Great Recession, lives in Reno, Nevada and is permanently single, or so it seems.