The Escort Game Pt. 04 – Fetish

The Escort Game: Part IV — Satisfaction

Martha pulled into her driveway early Sunday evening. Bryan had arrived home minutes before. She walked through the door to the sound of him telling her to get naked. Turned out it wasn’t for sex. He wanted to give her a full body massage. She stretched out on their bed, and he slathered her all over with scented oil. He rubbed her muscles evenly, without favoring any of the places that had gotten so much attention in the past twenty-four hours. Rather than showering when he finished, she wrapped her slick, naked body around his until he was equally oiled up. They both fell asleep before 9:00 pm, a record.

Also, a blessing, because Martha had an crucial presentation to make at her office less than twelve hours later. When Bryan gently shook her awake at 6:00 am, she rolled onto her back and growled, “Who schedules a meeting at fucking 8:00 am on a goddamn Monday?”

Bryan smirked as he waved a mug of steaming hot coffee under her nose. “Just call her angel of the morning,” he sang. Her impulse to hide from his off-key crooning lost to the delicious smell that made her perk up and take a sip. He handed her the mug and headed for the bathroom. “I’ll get the shower going,” he said.

When the water hit the sort of scalding intensity Martha loved, Bryan guided her in and stepped behind her. He started soaping off what remained of the oil he’d applied the day before. He worked his hand down her stomach and between her legs. As his finger entered her pussy, she felt a jolt of electricity shoot through her whole body. While he fingered her, she wrapped her lathered hand around his cock and started pumping vigorously. She came first, causing her knees to go weak. She slid down into a crouch and then slurped him into her mouth. After a few more minutes, she felt him about to erupt, so she took him out of her mouth and jerked off him into the pounding water. His sigh told her how good it felt.

Fresh, clean, and still tingling from her latest orgasm, Martha wowed them at the meeting. She may have impetuously worn a dress she knew bordered on too sexy for the office and neglected to wear a bra, but Martha’s work sold the client. He praised her and apologized for having to meet so early to let him catch his plane home. Her boss was thrilled, since he’d convinced the guy to change his flight from the day before. If Martha had bombed, it would’ve been a disaster. She thanked him for keeping her in the dark about that part.

She dashed into her office and immediately pulled up the company plan she’d been writing on the sly. Coming into her own sexually had boosted her confidence in other areas, as well. She was a rainmaker, drawing a significant portion of the business’s company. The sooner she could go out on her own (and take clients like the one this morning with her), the better.

Her mind kept rehashing the events of the weekend. She tried to push those thoughts away, since getting horny at work at all times seemed masochistic, and not in a good way. But the feelings weren’t purely arousal. Maybe they’d gone too far, broken long-term bonds for the sake of immediate pleasure. The wondered hit like a gut punch. The taboos they’d violated had made it more enticing, but at what price? In the cold light of morning, how did Bryan feel about her taking another man’s cock, not only in her mouth and pussy but in her ass, a place even he hadn’t been yet, the only part of her anatomy she could previously have said was still virginal?

Their unwritten agreement not to talk about their roleplaying had made it hotter up to that point. The game felt like not only an extra dimension of their relationship but an actual double life. Now, it meant if their exploits bothered him, he couldn’t bring it up. Martha had once shared a bottle of wine with a friend who’d felt devasted because her husband caught her in an infidelity she considered trivial. He disagreed and asked for a divorce. Martha had drunkenly told the friend she’d “screwed the pooch by screwing the dude.” Had she made the same mistake?

Right then, her email pinged. Her review.

“Of all the great escorts your service has sent me, this one was the finest. I admit she surprised me when she invited a random guy from the bar to join us (yes, I know the rules allow it). At first, I felt jealous, possessive — I mean, I’d booked her; that pussy was mine for the night. Then seeing how effortlessly she pleasured both of us (she could probably have handled more!) made me hornier than I’d ever been. Not only was she making us both happy, she was loving it. Witnessing her ecstasy felt like the realization of a dream I never knew I had. I’m tempted to ask you always to send me this one, but I say keep the surprises coming.”

Martha felt relieved. It took a mighty effort not to slip her hand into her panties and see to her needs right there and then. Instead, she poured her arousal into the review she wrote:

“This client stood head and shoulders above anybody else I’ve ever been with (and we all know it’s a long list). Sexy, secure, confident and thoughtful enough to share me. This guy deserves credit for the times the other guy made me cum, since he had me so turned on. I’ve never felt so sexy. I’d do him again for free! (Just kidding; we all know I love getting paid.) He’s an incredible lover made all the sexier by being a generous one, as well.”

After clicking “send” she felt an overwhelming desire to meet her husband to express her appreciation directly. Racing through the office muttering about a “lunch meeting,” she hopped in her car and sped home. She smirked thinking how lucky she was not to get pulled over, because she’d never be able to withstand flirting with the cop. Another fantasy to act out with Bryan.

She stopped outside her door realizing she hadn’t texted her husband about her little plan. Shit. She had to be back to the office early, so time was tight. She thumbed the word “nooners” into her phone. They both considered the word a corny name for an afternoon tryst, so of course neither could withstand using it. Then her phone pinged with the same word from him.

She opened to door to discover him reclining naked on their sofa. She pushed it closed with the heel of her sensible office pump. She and Bryan both wondered shoes in a house were gross, so she was about to kick off hers at the door. But she heard Rick’s voice in her head: “Leave ’em on; they’re sexy” and only regretted she wasn’t wearing the fuck-me numbers.

She dove for Bryan’s flagrant erection with her wide-open mouth. It hit the back of her throat and, instead of gagging, she started to deepthroat him. She looked up to his face, and his expression said it all. Her oral skills would, at any other time, have had him spurting in her mouth in minutes. But today he had the stamina of a porn star, no doubt due to the number of times he’d cum in the last few days.

When she came up for air, he scooped her into his arms. She assumed his destination was the bedroom. Instead, he carried her into the dining room and laid her on her out on the polished wooden table. He ripped off her panties, and she spread her legs wide. He teased his cock against her pussy until she was about to scream. Then he drove into her and she released the yell. That’s when she felt a breeze and realized he’d opened the window before she’d gotten home. Bastard. All planned. Their stay-at-home elderly neighbor could hear. He seemed like a refined gentleman. She should tell Bryan to close the window. Or she could do what she did instead and scream, “Fuck me. Give me your big dick.”

He pounded her so hard the slapping of their hips must’ve carried across the street. And the way she shouted? Epic. The police never arrived, so their neighbor must’ve been entertained.

The rest of the week was filled with work for both of them. The project Martha had sold on Monday swung into high gear, keeping her at the office late. When she tried to apologize to Bryan for being out, he made a joke about needing a break. He also had a work trip scheduled that would take him away through the weekend. Well, occasionally they were real.

Saturday morning found her in the office reviewing a mock-up of the campaign to send to the client. Her boss had signed off, but Martha had a way of obsessing over last minute changes and found she often did her best work in the clutch. The layouts filled her screen when a small box popped up in the corner, informing her she had an email. She checked her phone, breathless. It was, indeed, the “agency” asking her availability that very night. How perfect. She might’ve fiddled with the project for another couple hours, but instead she toggled the box on her screen from “review” to “final” and sent it off. She had shopping to do.

Her first order of company after entering the dress shop was to make a circuit among the racks. Martha grinned when she saw Nicole hanging a bunch of identical-looking LBDs in the back. She smiled back and gestured to one of the changing rooms.

Martha went in and stripped to her bra and panties. The body reflected in the mirror hadn’t changed in recent months, but it looked new to her. Knowing how much pleasure it could give and receive made a world of difference. Nicole stepped into the room without knocking — how bold she’d become — brandishing an assortment of sexy dresses.

“How’d that cutaway number work out?” She tossed off the question with an insinuating smile. Martha’s naughty laugh provided the answer. Nicole helped her into her first selection for the day. They both considered the effect in the mirror. “For most women, I’d say daring,” Nicole said. “For you, we can do better.”

Martha nodded agreement. “I’m in your hands,” she said.

Nicole took the dress off Martha and held out the next. “No bra with this one, lady.” Martha smiled shyly and let Nicole unhook her bra in the back. Her breasts sprang out, nipples hard, pebbled. Did Nicole’s eyes really get wide, or was Martha imagining that?

The dress felt smooth and silky on Martha’s skin as it drifted over her shoulders. Nicole tugged it into place and ran her palms over spots where the fabric pulled, a simple adjustment Martha found surprisingly sensual. The décolletage wrapped enticingly around her unyoked breasts. Nicole cupped them, claiming there were wrinkles to smooth out. Martha noticed it was getting warm in there.

The ordinarily quiet, confident Nicole seemed anxious, babbling about random topics. She was glad Martha liked the last dress but wouldn’t want to pry and anyway what about the heat spell they’d been having and hey did she mention the shop planned a big sale next week? Martha didn’t want to be rude. So, she spontaneously did something equally unusual.

She stopped her lips with a kiss. Nicole responded. Tongues and everything. When they came up for air, it was Martha’s turn to feel flustered. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I know you’re straight. You told me about your boyfriend. I mean, I’m straight too. Married fifteen years. I made out with a woman in college one time but we were both high as kites and…”

Nicole laid a finger on Martha’s lips. “For the record, I’m fluid,” she said, smiling. “And you’re incredible. Labels are for dresses, not the people who wear them.”

They smiled at each other, maintaining eye contact in a charged silence for more than a minute. Then, out of nowhere, Martha had an idea.

“You busy tonight?”

An hour later, the two best-dressed women in the hotel bar perched on stools in a little-used corner behind the bartender. They leaned their heads together and seemed to be vibing so hard on each other that, while men would notice them and hover temporarily like they intended to approach, they at all times decided not to.

Until one guy. “Excuse me, aren’t you a friend of Monica’s?”

Martha looked up. “As a matter of fact, yes. We’re besties. Isn’t that what the kids say these days?” she asked Nicole, seated beside her. Their skirts were equally micro and heels maximal, but while Martha left her sexy legs bare as at all times, Nicole sported fishnets.

The women laughed and started chatting about slang while Bryan waited. Martha looked back, as if she thought whether he was still there. “Oh, would you like to join us?” she asked.

Bryan slid into the chair next to Martha. He’d dressed sharply, if a bit dully, in wool slacks, blazer, and tie. Martha could tell Nicole’s presence caught him off guard. As intended.

“Looks like you ladies have a head start,” he said, gesturing to the two martini glasses sitting in front of each.

“No shit, Sherlock.” Martha meant to sound dry but mainly came across as drunk.

“Shall we get another round?” asked Nicole, equally tipsy, as she waved at the bartender.

“Monica knows a couple guys around here,” Martha said. “Which one would you be?”

Bryan looked her square in the eye and said, “Fabio.”

The three held their stares waiting for someone to crack up. Nobody did.

“Nice to meet you…Fabio,” said Martha. “I’m Gigi. And this is my friend, um…” she didn’t know whether to use her real name.

Nicole picked up on the game immediately. “Maisy … Maisy Altavista.”

“Nice to meet you…both,” said Bryan. Just then the bartender brought their drinks, and he hoisted his immediately. “Gotta catch up with you ladies,” he said, taking a big swig.

Martha shot Nicole a look. “My first pet and the street I grew up on.”

Why hadn’t Martha wondered of that? Maybe time to begin changing up her names, too.

“Hope I’m not interrupting,” said Bryan.

“No,” Martha said. “We were just playing a little game. It’s called FMK. You know it?”

“I think so. You name three people and you have to say which ones you’d…”

“That’s it. We were about to start a new round. Wanna give us some choices?

“Um, sure.” He looked around. “How about the bartender?”

He nodded to the tall, fiftyish man with jet black hair, a bushy moustache, and the

appearance of somebody who worked out regularly. Martha looked the man over.

Nicole did the same, then asked, “Who else?”

The tinkling of the piano over in the corner drew Bryan’s glance. The player was an attractive woman who could’ve been anywhere between twenty-five and forty. Her blonde hair hung down her back.

“The entertainer,” he said.

“Hmmm… interesting,” Martha said. She and Nicole both took a drink and looked at him for the final choice.

He smiled. After a suitably dramatic pause, he said, “Me.”

“Well, Fabio,” said Martha, “I don’t think you’re the marrying type.”

“No,” echoed Nicole. “But I’d marry the piano player in a minute. Free music.”

“You do that,” said Martha. “I’ll take the bartender. Our parties will be epic.”

The ladies laughed, clinked glasses, and drained their drinks. Martha lifted hers toward her newly intended at the other end of the bar. “Honey, we need refills.”

He chuckled and came over to collect the glasses. He’d clearly heard everything in that job. As he withdrew to mix new cocktails, Martha asked, “So, Maisy, who you going to kill?”

“Hate to tell you, Gigi, but the idea of the barkeep having you all to himself drives me fucking crazy. Enough to do something violent.”

“So he’s…”

“‘Fraid so.” She eyed the bartender and drew a finger across her throat.

“Glad I didn’t invest in monogramed towels. And while we’re at it, the piano player’s a fox, but I might have to strangle her with that shitty wig.”

“You think it’s fake?”

“Love is blind.”

“Ah, fuck me. We’re both widows now,” said Nicole.

“Sucks, doesn’t it? I mean, we’re healthy women. We’ve got needs.”

“Which brings us to number three. Who we going to fuck?”

They turned to Bryan, who grinned. The bartender, apparently unaware of his recent demise, set their new drinks down. They all toasted.

“Oh, so I don’t forget, Monica asked me to give this to you,” said Bryan as he slid an envelope from his jacket pocket over to Martha.

Martha scooped it off the bar, then smiled flirtatiously at him. “I’d love to get acquainted, but first I need to freshen up. Maisy, join me?”

She slid off the stool and started toward the bathrooms in the back. “Maisy” followed, eyeing “Fabio” as she passed. They found themselves the only two in a spacious ladies’ room, but Martha guided them into a stall where they could shut the door. She slid the ten c-notes out of the envelope and counted them silently. Nicole watched, fascinated.

They heard the outer door open. Someone walked in, heels clicking against the tile floor. “This is pretend right?” Nicole whispered to Martha. “The money goes back?”

“Yeah, but take a minute to count it. Think about what it’s for.”

Nicole did as instructed, then let out a deep sigh. “I see what you mean,” she said, her voice barely audible. “I’m so wet now.”

“Oh, yeah? Let’s see,” Martha said as she playfully snuck her hand under Nicole’s skirt. Her eyes lit up. “Holy fucking shit.”

Nicole giggled. “Madam, I didn’t know you swore so much.”

“Well, kid, I never realized you went to fancy fucking bars without goddamn panties.”

They both laughed, struggling to keep quiet. Martha’s finger hovered lightly on Nicole’s sopping wet clit. She marveled at how engorged it was and sensed that with a few strokes, she could bring her over the edge. But could she keep quiet? They heard a flush from another stall, followed by water flowing in a sink.

“Let’s get Fabio,” Martha hissed into Nicole’s ear, returning the cash to the envelope and taking out the key card. As soon as they heard the outer door close, they left the stall. Nicole stopped Martha and turned her to face the mirror. She rearranged the skimpy fabric of both their dresses to achieve maximum effect without getting them thrown out of the bar.

They slid onto stools on either side of Bryan, who for once seemed to be at a loss for words. Martha stepped up to fill the gap. “Are you a businessman, Fabio?” She found his fake name for this session so much fun to say she worried about overusing it.

“Something like that,” he said. “Investor,” he added, trying to sound mysterious.

“Well, I’m in company, too,” said Martha. “Maisy here is an intern. I’m scheduled to attend an crucial client meeting, and I don’t know whether to bring her along. She needs to observe me at work if she’s gonna learn, but I don’t know how that’ll go over with the client. It’s a private matter. I’m sure you’ve had a lot of … meetings. What would you advise?”

He ran his eyes up and down Nicole’s lithe body. Her frock revealed a lot, from the tight curves of her toned muscles to hints of some interesting tattoos peeking provocatively from the form-fitting fabric. But if you paid close attention, it kept key secrets. She gave him a cool smile, keeping her eyes fixed on his. He was the one to break off the stare. “I think any client would be delighted to have her,” he said, once he found his voice. “In the meeting, I mean.”

“Well of course,” said Martha. “Thanks for confirming my instincts.” She away tucked the envelope and climbed off the stool. “Speaking of that meeting, we need to get going.”

Nicole joined her, giving Bryan a wink as she passed. He watched, fascinated, as they left the bar. Glancing around, he saw he wasn’t the only one. The fact his two companions exuded pure sex had apparently not been lost on anybody in the place. He decided to have one more drink before heading up. A little extra courage couldn’t hurt. Plus, he needed a chance to let the bulge in his pants become less obvious.

He rode up in the elevator with a pair of nicely dressed women of about his age. They both could’ve been models, but he didn’t give them a second glance. If you looked in his eyes, you’d be sure he was in a trance.

When the door swung open, the two women perched alluringly in chairs flanking the table that held all the toys, lubes, and such. They were still fully dressed, if you could use that term for those outfits, legs crossed.

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