The Escort
When denied the access to your eyesight, your other senses take over for you. Recognizing this mentally is easy, but, when experienced. the effect is considerably more profound than you can express with a few brief sentences.

So when I was led blindfolded, barefoot, hands secured with a silk scarf behind my back, I was unprepared for the assault to my scenes. The distinct smells: cigar smoke, leather, male cologne, and the obvious smell of scotch.

Ice clinked in a glass. Leather against pants as someone shifted or rose from an armchair. Shoes on soft carpet and the opening of a drawer. A soft low conversation from the far side of the room between one of the men in the room and Mazy, who had ‘prepared me for my date'.

Maybe I should clarify, my name is Charity Robbins and I am an escort. Not at all in the manner, depicted on TV. I went on dates with gentlemen who desired a beautiful woman on their arm. Someone who appreciated an intelligent conversation who did not pout when the gentleman left her to establish contacts, or make high-powered deals.

A beautiful accessory was what I was, and I liked it, I made a great deal of money just dating gentlemen on the weekends. These earnings allowed me to pursue my passion of photography. I had already had a substantial amount of work published and was definitely on my way to establishing myself as the go to photographer of fine art in Chicago.

I kept my profession a secret from all but my best friend Mazy and Sarge, who was the intermediary who set up the dates, checked out the backgrounds and collected payment for the services.

Sarge, Mazy and I stumbled into this occupation. Sarge had many acquaintances with bundles of money because he was the adoptive son of one of the wealthiest men in north America.

One summer while home from college, an acquaintance asked Sarge if he could help him locate girls to be eye candy for his employer, and a client to a museum opening. It was an incredibly big opportunity and seemed such an insignificant thing, so he came to his best friends, Mazy and I. We agreed, eager to see the new museum. Both of us were deeply involved in the art industry; she behind and easel and me from behind my camera lens.

The night of the celebration we ended up on the arms of two of the most eligible bachelors, not to mention the most envied men in Chicago. More and more requests for dates came in, weekend after weekend. Some dates were to events, but a considerable amount were the men who just needed an uncomplicated evening speaking with and doting on a magnificent woman.

Sarge never set us up with anyone who he did not personally know and respect. Generally, I had a marvelous time on my dates the men mostly needed a bit of attention or they needed a beautiful woman, an accessory to flash around. In most cases I was left mostly to my own devices to socialize.

One evening I felt an eerie presence. You know that feeling that someone is watching you; that eyes are boring straight into your back. Try as I might I had not been able to find the source. I dismissed it as soon as the evening was finished.

Then it happened again the next week, and again several other times. Someone was watching me I was sure of it. It had me unnerved to the point of panic. I was sure it had something to do with my being an escort.

So I resolved to tell Sarge that I would no longer be going on the dates. It was going to happen sooner or later I rationalized. My photography had really taken off and I had a very large bank account balance, primarily due to my dates.

It would have been nice to have completed my plan of having a bit more than just the down payment for the choice condo I wanted so dearly. But with careful planning, I would still be able make do. It would just mean a little less furniture and keeping my car for a few more years before trading. Yes, I could do this I made up my mind to tell Serge tonight.
But before I could talk to Serge he came to me.

"We have a bit of a problem. Mazy is in really in deep trouble and you are the only one who can help."

My heartbeat accelerated, Mazy was my dearest
friend, but didn't always use the best judgment and tended to get herself into horrible situations.
"What has she done this time?" I asked.

"Let's sit down this will take a while to explain fully. A few days ago a gentleman named Mr. Clarkson approached me. He informed me that Mazy had sold him a piece of art; a forged piece of art. I told him I would have his money returned to him by the end of the day. He said while he did appreciate that, it would not teach Mazy a lesson. And he emphasized, "she really needs to be taught a lesson."

I volunteered, "We will just need to make sure that this guy gets what he needs to make this go away Serge."

"Yes, but I am not sure you are willing to pay his demands Charity? He requires that you pay the price Charity."

He said, "Mazy has had many chances to learn her lesson and has not. The only thing that may make her see the error of her ways is to have one of her friends compensate for her."
"You are the person to pay the price, and that is all I am to tell you. The rest will be up to you and Mr. Clarkson to work out."

That is how I found myself nearly naked in this man's home. Now I was to find out what price my friend's stupidity would cost me.

Mazy led me to what I assumed was the center of the room. I heard her softly crying and felt her tears as she kissed my cheek and turned to leave.
Again, the sounds: the door we entered closed softly. The tinkling of ice against glass as it was apparently raised to his lips, ticking of a clock marking time; how much I could not tell. The room was quiet for several moments, seconds, may be minutes. It was hard to tell but sometime later I felt the brush of a hand down my arm
I got the impression of someone walking behind me and this was confirmed as I felt his hand brush over my nearly naked ass.

"What do you want? Who are you? At Least tell me where I am?" Each question was met with silence, I have no idea how long I stood there, but I had the distinct impression of being watched. By how many, I hadn't a clue.

I heard the sound of slacks rubbing together, footsteps and the creak of leather as the man sat in front of me.

"I want you to hold your hands out," the voice a distinguished sounding man middle aged, or slightly older.

I held out my hands trying to keep them from shaking I felt a tug and the sash fell away.

"Why am I here?"

"You my dear are here in payment of a debt. I thought you had been informed. Your friend assured me you knew all about this. I have already accepted your body as payment for a very large debt. You may either stay and fulfill that debt, or I will have your friend arrested for art theft."

"But why me?"

"Well dear it is simple; you are who I wanted."

"So you just want me to what? Fuck you?"

"I want to possess you, to own you, body and soul. But this will be your choice. I am no rapist. To possess you, there must be a willingness on your part to be possessed."

"But all of this for another time, I have had you a room prepared. And I know you must need time to yourself. Your attire for the evening has been set out on the bed."

I woke two hours later as the clock on the side table alerted me to the approach of the evening meal. I had to admit to myself my captor was handsome. In any other situation I would have been drawn to him. His eyes were strikingly the richest chocolate brown pools. His barring and manners impeccable, he was refined and his features rugged and masculine.

The room he had shown me to was elegant and designed with a woman in mind; Queen Anne style furniture in ivory with floral accents. The peaceful mauve color walls with green drapes covering the floor to ceiling windows.

I glanced at the clock and hurried to the adjoining luxurious bath to begin to prepare for whatever was to happen tonight.

If the outfit he laid out was any indication, he intended me to be in bed with him before the end of the night.

A super silky knee length rose gold dress that clung to each and every curve. A slit cut into the side went nearly to my hip. It was accented with a simple pearl necklace and pearl studs for my ears.
Black thigh-high stockings held in place with a white lace garter belt he left no bra nor panties.

I wound my golden brown hair in a simple up do and held it in place with a long thin rose gold chopstick. My natural curls framed my face which I left makeup free. A knock on the door summoning me to dinner.

I opened the door and was surprised to find an elderly gentleman who announced that dinner would be served in 10 minutes and he was to escort me to the dining room. I sat on the edge of the bed and slipped into the pearl colored strappy five-inch heels.

The dining room was just as nicely appointed as the rest of the house. The long dining table was dressed for two and was lit with candles. He certainly had pulled out the romantic vibe for the meal.

A hand slipped around my waist and lay warmly at the small of my back. A shiver rose up my spine in response to the delicate touch of the handsome man leading me toward the table. I looked up into his eyes which was a mistake; stomach landed like lead deep in my belly. Our eyes met and for a moment I felt like he was about to kiss me. The strange thing was, I wanted that kiss. What was wrong with me? This man had basically forced me into this and all I could do was fall head over heels over one sexy look.

The meal was exquisite as I knew it would be. Michael entertained me with his wit and complete honesty. We did, however, keep from discussing the circumstances of my confinement.

He touched me as often as he could and I began to place myself in the position in order to be touched by him. At the end of the evening, as he led me to my room, my heart beat like the pace of a bunny and my mind raced like a whore in need.

I realized with a start that I wanted to sleep with this attractive, smart, enigma of a man. When we reached my door, he turned to me and softly cupped my face in his hand. He looked deeply into my eyes and leaned in. I lifted my chin to him and began to close my eyes anticipating his hot lips on mine. But then he only touched my forehead with his.

"Another time maybe," he said as he leaned back. "Please feel free to explore the house it is old and filled with art and antiques, as this is your area of interest, I thought you might like your camera." He nodded towards the bed where my camera and camera bag lay.

"Thank you so much, that was so very thoughtful."

"Good evening Mrs. Robbins." Leaning in he quickly kissed my cheek then, left before I could regain the capacity to speak from the way my body reacted to his simple kiss.

I pushed the door open and gasped the room was filled with dozens and dozens of pure white roses, one sweetly draped on my camera bag.

I woke the next morning and dressed in the bright yellow sundress that had been left for me the evening before while I was out eating, low sandals and a rose gold anklet completed the ensemble, I pulled my hair up into a pony and left the room.

I found Michael in the kitchen, he rose and folded his newspaper and lay it down beside his plate. Reaching out he took my hands and pulled me in for a sweet kiss on the lips.

"Good morning my dear Charity, how did you sleep?"

"Very well and I want to thank you for the flowers and the clothes but I am sure Mazy or Serge could bring me some of my things I hate to put you out."
We sat as I spoke.

"I wish to give you these things, please allow me to continue it pleases me to see you in the outfits I pick out for you. I hope you will take time to look over the property today. The lawns, as well as the entire house, are yours to explore. I will be back for lunch and I hope you will be able to join me. But now I must leave I have an urgent appointment this morning."

Michael rose, kissed me on the cheek. His lips lingering as he took a deep breath. I had a suspicion that it was me he was smelling, just as it was I who was taking his woodsy scent deep into my heart. Michael had succeeded in stealing a bit of my heart, and somehow I knew, as I watched him go, he had left me forever changed.

I spent hours photographing antiques and lavish pieces of art. Michael really had quite an eye, if indeed it was him that picked out the art for this home. But looking at the pieces I was sure it was.
His pride and love for his home showed, not only in the pieces he had chosen, but where and how he had grouped them. I had only made it through a few rooms before I looked up and was startled by Michael who was leaning against the doorway watching me; it seemed for some time.

"I'm sorry sweetheart but you were so beautiful with the sun shining through the window onto your beautiful hair and well let's just say the sundress looks lovely on your body."

"Michael I did not hear you, how long have you been there?"

He came to me holding his arms out. I fell into them as naturally as the sun rises. Looking up into his eyes I knew he felt this pull too. We studied each other's faces for some time before together we leaned in. His lips grazed over mine reverently at first and then with a hunger I had never known. I was consumed with my passion for this man; he had conquered me completely, taking control over my body, mind and soul.

Our passion exploded into a white hot fire as Michael's hands roamed from my hips down to firmly cup my ass. Lifting me slightly he pulled my body against his rock hard erection. He seemed to become self-conscious and perhaps even embarrassed at just how aggressive he had been.

His hands drifted up to the back of my neck and tipping my head back, his lips distributing kisses and nibbles over my neck and shoulders. His hands then moved up my sides to brush against the sides of my breasts. I could not keep from grinding my hips against him while I let my hands roam over his body.

It became obvious to me that he worked out. The definition of his muscles his abs, shoulders and thighs were simply deliciously overwhelming. I ached to feel his toned thighs slip between my own.
Michael lifted me and with one foot slammed the library door closed. Accomplished with such ease, I felt as if I were but a doll; a doll he now controlled and I felt this need to be totally used by this prince of a man.

He placed me on the sofa and kneeled beside me as he whispered, "whatever debt Mazy had, it is paid. You can get up and walk out of this house right this very minute. I swear by all I hold dear, I will never bother you or her again. But it is my fervent wish that you want to be with me as much as I want to be with you, with no obligations at all."

"I want to stay Michael I want you to make love to me and I want to continue to build this whatever this is."

Michael's lips came crashing down on mine. We were both consumed by our lust for each other that engulfed us with desire and want. His tongue pirouetted with mine. His hands moved over my body; exploring and touching with a reverence that was palpable. I felt a fire building within me and he stoked it with each caress.

Our kiss broke, and we gazed into each other's eyes as we slowly undressed each other. His fingers traced lightly over my collar as he reached for the tie that held the bodice of my dress up. He pulled slowly, held the tie in his hands as he pulled it forward skimming the curve of my generous globes. His palms rested on my hips for a moment before he pulled me to him. My barely covered breasts with my aroused tips, crushed against his chiseled chest.

"My God you are stunning," Michael whispered in my ear as his tongue dipped in, sending chills down my spine.

Our lips came crashing together again with the passion of teenagers on prom night. I continued to explore each chiseled line of his hard body. He covered over each round curve of mine with kisses, firm exploring hands and nibble, oh God, the nibbles. Our passion, our lust filled desires for each other built to a rolling storm of white hot heat.

My knees gave way and I realized with a start that I was being carried upstairs nearly naked.
He reverently lowered me to the floor of his room. He knelt and slowly released my stockings from the garter, smoothing them down my legs one by one. His fingers were trembling as violently as my own. I clung to his shoulders.

He removed my panties and laid me back on his bed. I watched with hungry eyes as he quickly removed his slacks. My eyes widened as his cock sprang from his boxer briefs.

He was about seven and a half inches in length the girth was more than I could ever hope to grasp in my hand. It was brown heavy veins wove down his length, which was otherwise smooth as warm silk. His circumcision was perfect, shaping the mushroom crown in to a truly impressive sight. His cock reddened to the point of being nearly purple. I ached to suck him deep into my mouth drooling with desire.

I started to sit up, but Michael stopped me. Lifting my legs to the edge of the bed, he knelt between them. He then began to rain kisses down on me from my knees to the top of my thighs. His hands sliding up pushed my legs apart, as he slowly approached the apex of my thighs.

His breath against my core caused me to shiver in anticipation. The first touch of his tongue was electric. My back arched off the bed and Michael slid a hand up to lay flat on my belly, as if protecting a precious gem. His tongue seemed to be everywhere at once around my clit, up inside me, and lower to my perineum, and the dark rose below. My hands griped the comforter, back arched, as I rode that orgasmic tidal wave that now crashed over me.

Michael looked up at me for just a moment, smiled and said, "give me your surrender, let me make you mine."

With that, he re-doubled his efforts. The need to succumb to this torrent of release overwhelmed me. I wanted to make this amazing moment last forever with wave after wave of pleasure emanating from the core of my womanhood and throughout my entire body. Michael was there stroking my surrender ever higher. Then as the waves ebbed he sucked my clit into his mouth and pushed me over the edge once more.

Then as our ragged breath returned to some semblance of normalcy, Michael crawled up beside me and held me, as I recovered from the most intense orgasm of my life.

Suddenly something inside me took over my lustful desires. With my hand flat on his chest, I pushed Michael gently so he lay flat on his back. I crawled down his body kissing nipping, licking, and dipping my tongue into his belly button.

Kissing downward my hand slid lower to cup his heavy balls. Licking from the root of his manhood to the crown, my tongue swirled across the tip to taste drops of pre-cum gathered there. I took him slowly and fully into my mouth with some considerable effort. Letting my lips slide over every bump and vein, I engulfed his wonderful cock in my hungry mouth.

My tongue lay flat against the underside. My sucking action was pulling Michael close to the edge. Realizing this, I backed off wanting to savor him for as long as I could.

I followed every instinct I had paying close attention to Michael's reaction. I repeated those actions that heightened his arousal. His hands slid into my hair guiding me with his own special rhythm. I knew he was very close and soon he would fill my mouth with his seed.

I looked up and as our eyes met he tipped over the edge and rocketed his ejaculate to the back of my mouth and down my throat. He held my face as I gently licked him clean. He then pulled me up wrapping his arms around me in a protective and claiming embrace. I relaxed and lay my head against his chest, with his heart pounding in my ear.

We lay back on the bed just holding each other talking softly, "Michael, why did you finish in my mouth, don't you wan..."

"Stop," he whispered "it has nothing to do with not wanting you. Can't you see your so very special to me? I want you more desperately than I have ever wanted any woman in my life."

My insecurity flooded out of me, as I questioned him, "But Michael, how can you say that? You know my past. You know I was a high class escort, but in reality, a common whore. You don't consider me damaged goods?"

This wonderful man assured me that my past did nothing to lessen his love and desire for me. "You know, many people view me as a womanizer, and I have my own history. Rest assured our love is solid and I know I have found the one woman that I want to be mine. Period, end of discussion and the subject is never to be brought up again. Understand?"

He pulled me close to his side and sometime later we slipped from soft conversation to post orgasmic sleep.
When I woke I had an awareness of being watched once again. This time I knew where the feeling came from and was totally comfortable knowing this voyeur was in love with me.

I kept still waiting for him to decide if he was going to give into the temptation to touch me intimately. I almost missed it when it came. Just a tiny brush on my shoulder, which at any other time would have been easily dismissed. But now laying here with Michael, my heightened sense of awareness, drew a shiver from me.

"I know you have been awake for bit now," Michael leaned down and whispered in my ear.
Kissing the back of my neck sent another jolt through my body.

"Mmm," I moaned as I rolled over. "Michael?"


"I want you to make love to me," I confessed in no uncertain terms.

He looked deep into my eyes, as a smile formed on his face. Silently he dipped his head, he kissed my mouth sweet and tenderly at first. The kiss quickly flowered into a passion fueled inferno. Our lips crushed together, tongues tangled, and teeth gently nibbled in an age old dance.

Our hands were busy as well eagerly exploring. He then tenderly sucked my breasts then proceeded to pull and tease my aroused nipples with his hands, mouth and teeth. He alternated between eagerly raw and sweetly tender handling of my tits.

Far from being a docile participant, my hands roamed his chest, and I nipped my way from his neck to his tiny nipples that I tenderly bit at. Then my hands moved lower and in response his did as well. With me taking a firm hold of his manhood, his hands moved down and he slipped his invading fingers beyond the lips of my womanhood. Each of us drawing moans and nearly silent groans.

I was nearly to the end of my ability to stand any more stimulation when Michael pushed my knees apart and thrust his cock fully into my cunt in one powerful push. His action left me breathless!

He held himself still fully embedded in me with his balls resting against the lips of my vagina. A deep moan escaped his lips. Michael was looking into my eyes and I knew he awaited for a sign of my readiness. I firmly took hold of his ass cheeks and propelled my hips upward. He timed his thrusts with mine as we fell into a comfortable rhythm before we felt that age old yearning for release.

This somehow became more, more intense as the power and speed of our coupling increased. This search only became more urgent in our attempt to sate the hunger deep inside of us. I clutched his shoulder's, later finding I was leaving the impressions of my nails behind. Such was the power of this moment between us.

When at last I was no longer able to hold back, I looked up at my lover with a kind of desperation in my eyes; my needs obvious to Michael. He then rotated his hips and thrust into my hot cunt to the hilt! The release we both sought was satisfied when together we broke over the top and reached our zenith simultaneously as one.

We lay in a tangled heap of sheet, sweat, arms and legs. Slowly we came back to this earthly plane, as it truly felt like we had visited heaven in those moments of passionate love making. The smell of sex was all around us.

I needed one more thing at that moment. My gnawing curiosity needed satisfaction. "I do have one question."

"What is that sweetness?"

"Was it you I felt all those weeks? Were you the one watching me?"

"I was. You are the reason that I bought that painting from Mazy. I had hoped for an introduction, but before that could happen my art appraiser told me it was a forgery. I looked into Mazy's past and her relationship with you. I discovered that you were not only good friends, but I also found out how she had used you to get out of similar dicey situations.

So the plan was my way of trying to straighten out your friend. I knew that I could never have hurt you by having her arrested. Let's just say I hoped that I could make you care for me."

"Care for you? I think you made me fall in love with you."

©2016 Charity Robbins All rights reserved no reprinting without the expressed permission of the author

All characters appearing in this work are fictitious. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.
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