Trying To Relate

I made no commitment but choosing my moment on the Sunday, I broached the subject with Charles. "You probably suspect that I have sex with the men who take me to dinner."

"I have wondered. All the men must want to and I can see that it puts you under pressure."

"I swear that I have not done it with anyone," I said, pedantically excluding the blow-job. "The point is that I think we ought to consider whether I should. All the other girls do and I lose out because I don't. At the moment I am earning enough to let us live decently but it doesn't touch our real problem. Pretty soon the building society id going to repossess the house and they will slash £50,000 off the price to sell quickly. It's our money that is lost but only if we can't hang on and sell it privately. If we can start sending them some money, they might hold off and give us a chance."

He shook his head. "You would have to do it with a lot of men to make any difference."

"A man has offered £1000 to let him fuck me."

The amazement showed on his face. "What is he like?"

"Rich, clean, civilised - in fact most of my clients are a bit like that."

"It's a hell of a lot of money," he said and the tone of his voice showed that he was not rejecting the idea out of hand.

"It need not affect us at all," I said, following up my advantage. "You are the man I love and this will only be sex. Looked at one way, their cocks won't actually touch my insides because they'll all be wearing condoms. Darling, if we both make a little sacrifice this is a way that we can get out of trouble. I think should do it."

"A thousand pounds," he said nodding his head slowly. I took this as tacit agreement. Charles didn't actually say 'Yes' but that would have been akin to giving me a chit of authorisation to commit adultery.

I must mention her that out of Serif's money I only put £100 into the household kitty. The remainder together with other accumulated fees that Charles knew nothing about, I used to open a secret account. One half of the next money that Serif gave me would be going in there too. Lest you think that smacks of deceit, I can say that the action was to safeguard both our interests and I will give my reasons later.

I went to bed with my next two clients and there is a tortured train of logic that explains why I felt that I must. They used my body but I disengaged my mind giving poor value for the £300 that they each paid. My argument ran that being paid for sex and doing it with your husband's permission was not infidelity. Yet, knowing how badly I wanted to open my legs for Serif, pedantic definitions aside, I would certainly be cheating in spirit. The only answer was to screw all my clients and then any extra that I put into the sex with my exciting Arab would be fully justified by the handsome fee that he was paying.

My husband remained unaware that I had extended my job description earlier than he expected and to hide this fact I dropped just £100 per time into the kitty with the surplus deposited in my secret account. Consequently on the morning of my £1000 pay-day, thinking that I was going to have another man's penis inside me for the first time since we met, he was understandably tense and grew more so as the day progressed. In contrast, I was bubbling with excitement, wishing the hours away and having great difficulty hiding my eagerness. Charles mentioned that I looked strained and happily put down my disturbed peace of mind as due to the same cause as his own.

Through a glass panel at the restaurant, I saw that Serif was sitting facing the door and watching intently for me. It pleased me to see that he had lost his suave air of unconcern.

He stood until I was seated and then gazed into my eyes with a big question in his. I nodded almost imperceptibly but allowed myself a small smile in confirmation. Serif gave no return signal but the contented smile as he relaxed in his chair told me that my message had been received and understood. Though a succession of, once more, delicious dishes, we talked about a wide range of subjects, never once touching on ourselves but the unspoken reason that we were together was like an electric current in the air between us.

It was only towards the end of the meal that he broke the prohibition that had been tacitly agreed between us by bringing the conversation onto a more personal level. "Your husband must love you very much," he said softly.

"As I love him."

"Desert flower you play with words. Perhaps I should have been more specific and said trust."

"Yes, Charles trusts me - he has no reason not to," I said. "You see over the years I have always drawn the attentions of men, some of whom find excuse to put their hands on me unnecessarily. I dislike making scene so I handle the situation verbally and I can assure that few take such liberties again but my husband has seen me handled by other men many times. He knows that my heart belongs only to him and that is all that matters."

"But surely tonight will be different from that?"

"Only in extent," I said. "The principle remains the same."

Serif let his disappointment show. "Perhaps I have let myself expect too much," he said.

"Don't worry Fair Prince," I said with a smile. "I promise you a very generous return on your investment."

He looked startled. "Fair prince?" he repeated looking at me with eyes that were suddenly hard.

I laughed. "An honorary title only Serif - not unlike your 'Desert flower'."

"Touché," he said laughing with me. "Perhaps it is time for us to retire. I do think that too much talk can destroy the ambience of an evening."

More than happy to agree, I still managed to walk to his suite maintaining a decorous distance from Serif but once inside the door is was different because I was as hungry for his kisses as I was for his body. His tongue set me on fire exactly as it had done before and I could have lapped up far more foreplay but his urgency for consummation rather dented Serif's relaxed image. There was no question of using a condom. I had produced one for those first two as a matter of course but I could not ask a man who was paying so much, to accept any diminution of his pleasure. That was not the real reason - I wanted to feel his cock inside me with no layer of latex separating skin from skin as badly as he did.

My husband is a skilled, considerate and exiting lover. Over the years I have never once failed to have an orgasm with him, usually I have two and there have been many, many times when he has given me several but I have to admit that compared to Serif, he is a novice.

From the moment that my eastern lovers beautiful penis entered my cunt I started to cum.

The orgasms were more intense and of greater magnitude than any I had experienced and they came one after the other like waves breaking on the shore.

After he had filled me with his seed we did play, kissing and fondling with hands and mouth in joyful exuberance. When his prick regained stiffness he quickly entered me again and I abandoned myself to another orgasmic sequence. This time after his cock had launched another load of life giving semen towards my womb, we lay and caressed in a more relaxed manner but I was still hungry for more. Unfortunately, a glance at my watch told me that we had already over-run the time that I had allotted and I badly needed to take a shower before returning home. I knew that Charles, hoping that I would give my client a 'short time', would be anxiously awaiting my return and growing ever more troubled the longer I remained away.

Sitting up I swung my legs over the side of the bed but as I did so Serif put a hand on my thigh to stay me. Reaching under the pillow he pulled out a jewel case which contained a matching bracelet to the necklace he had given me the week before. "My previous gift was for the pleasure of your company in the restaurant - this is for the even more delightful pleasure of your body in this bed. My sweet, you may love your husband but you most certainly held nothing back from me."

Throwing myself at him I flung my arms around his neck. "Oh Serif, Thank you" I cried. "I can never hold anything back from you." Needless to say, it was a further hour before I threw on my clothes and ran for the taxi he ordered for me. On the ride home, I did not need to count the £100 notes in my bag to know there would be exactly twenty and I had the satisfaction that he had hired me again for the next week at the same fee. On a more mundane level, I did suffer a large degree of embarrassment during the journey. Due to the haste of my departure, I had to sit with my thighs clamped tightly together to stop Serif's cum from leaking out of me and I still left a large damp patch on the taxi seat when I climbed out. Ii was a sense of obligation that made me give the driver a very large tip in the way of compensation.

It will tell you something when I confess that I counted the hours until I would be with Serif again. Even though a mixture of emotions were competing within me I realised that I could not let myself get so out of control with that beautiful man again - or at least ensure that I never returned home in a similar state again. I was lucky that my husband had neither waited up nor noticed any other clues to the fact that I had violated the sprit of our agreement. I realised that in future I must return home in good time and in a respectable state after being with Serif but at the same time I could not face the thought of having less sex with my desert sheikh. The solution to these conflicting problems was simple. The next time when meeting in the restaurant, instead of seating myself I softly suggested, "Shall we give the meal a miss and skip straight to the chase?" He was more than happy to agree and after that, every time that we met, I went straight to his suite for several hours of the most heavenly sex that you can imagine.

From then on I opened up with all my clients, giving good value for money. I was happy to dispense with condoms (at extra cost) and included other activities such as playing the 'two backed beast' game for an additional fee. Supercharged from being fucked by Serif every week, some of the other men that I went to bed with managed to make me cum. This pleased them so much that with those who did not I managed to give a fair simulation. It is fair to say that I started getting pleasure from most of my clients but surely everybody is entitled to enjoy their work. Cynthia had told me that getting regulars was the secret of her success. I began to get lots of re-bookings but, out of consideration for Charles, I did not undertake to spend additional evenings away from him. However, following the precedent set by Serif, with men who had booked to screw me for the second or subsequent time, I suggested that we skip the restaurant and get in extra fucking. All were happy to agree and my increased remuneration naturally included the saved cost of the meal. First time clients only got one shag for their money but I always took a shower afterwards allowing them to watch. When some got in with me, I allowed them to wash me - and if they got an erection, (always), a quick wank with my soapy hand was their uncharged bonus. I did a lot of oral - no that sounds too polite - I sucked a lot of pricks. It's interesting to mention that I found an amazing variation in taste, texture and quantity between the cum of different men.

A lot of the men who paid to fuck me were on expense accounts and with my collusion, we worked a fiddle that resulted in extra presents for me. I bought a receipt book, acquired a stamp from many of the hotels that I used regularly and practised a flamboyant but illegible signature. With this kit I was able to give receipts and amused myself by thinking up different euphemisms to describe my services.

I was having the time of my life between Serif and the better of my other regulars but I have to admit that I started to find sex with Charles rather boring. He was competent as ever and I did like the familiarity and bathing in the strong love between us but in comparison, I missed the excitement and anticipation that I had with the others. Part of the trouble lay with my husband because he seemed to have lost his spark - and not only in bed. I knew that my new life affected him rather badly but he would have to put up with it because I could see real prospects of screwing us right out of trouble. The building society, happy with the money we sent, agreed to delay repossessing the house and I was building up a nice secret nest egg. I think now is the time to explain that secret account. If everything went pear shaped we could finish up officially bankrupt. Charles being far too honest for his own good would declare everything and if that happened I wanted to have a hidden bankroll that would allow us to start again. The fact that I was earning far more than I dare let him know about also had something to do with it.

On the subject of Charles, I must mention an incident that disturbed me. Soon after I started as an escort, he acquired a friend called Mathew who subsequently called to keep my husband company on many of the nights that I worked. I was glad that Charles had someone with him to stop him brooding about what I was doing but I absolutely loathed the man - he is a fat oily creepy type and makes my flesh cringe. He was one of my husband's subordinates before the firm folded and I came into contact with him at a company social occasion. Mathew asked me to dance and out of politeness I agreed but once in his arms I found him to be one of the rare men that I cannot control with a few sharp choice words. He spent the whole dance slavering down my cleavage and at the end I had bruises all over my buttocks from his fingers and another big one on my tummy where his dick had been digging into me. I was surprised that Charles liked him because when still working he kept complaining how this Mathew was constantly trying to undermine him.

One morning we had stayed in bed late and were having a formal breakfast as we did from time to time. Charles was fidgeting, pushing things pointlessly about on his plate, so I gave him my 'Say what you've got to say' look. "Mathew wants to fuck you," he said.

My husband would have said 'sleep with you' or something similar so I knew these were not his words. The idea was preposterous and I couldn't take it seriously. "Tell your friend that he can't afford me," I said sweetly.

Charles moved the marmalade jar to the other side of his plate and then said carefully, "He was hoping you would do it for nothing because he spends time with me, 'A freebie for a friend' he said."

What a nerve! I was shocked that my husband had dared to pass on such an absurd request. "I don't do freebies," I said coldly. "Tell your obnoxious friend the going rate and say that if he has the cash and waits in line with the others then I might just consider him."

The effect of my words on Charles was devastating. He looked as if the bottom had dropped out of his world and I could not imagine why this had been so important to him. I carried a slight but constant feeling of guilt about my activities and the look on my poor husband's face exacerbated this. I brooded about it all day and finally, just before we went to bed I said, "Look love - if it is really important to you, I will do what Mathew wants."

For a moment Charles' face lit up but then that expression died and I watched him fight a silent struggle in his mind. In the end he shook his head and said, "No, you were right, I'll tell him that he can't - I didn't want him to anyway."

The trauma of passing on his friends request, (it had seemed almost like a demand), had drained Charles and he fell asleep the moment that we were in bed. I had been in the mood for some nice leisurely sex but instead lay awake pondering my husbands bizarre behaviour - and continued to wonder for several days. He never mentioned it again

It was a number of weeks after this that one Friday it was Serif who had something on his mind that he did not like to ask me. I gently prodded it out of him. "You are very special to me Fiona, I think you know that and I like to believe that I am special to you," he began speaking very slowly and softly. "I know that there are other men who share your charms and there is always your husband but I can put them out of my mind and pretend that you exist only for me. It is hard therefore to ask you to go with a man, and a not very nice man at that, purely for my benefit. There is a countryman of mine who has in his possession a certain document that could do me great harm should it fall into the hands of my father. Akbar does not know that I know this. I happen also to know exactly where the document is kept. If I could be certain of the gentleman's whereabouts for one hour, I can retrieve the item and possibly save my life. All that I need from you my dear is that you entertain him for that short period of time. It may not come to sex - all that I ask is that you keep him distracted inside the hotel and for this I am able to pay double my normal fee."

I agreed immediately. You may have gathered that by this time I had developed certain feelings for Serif but even had that not been the case, I would not have turned down such a payoff for turning what would be just another trick. My only regret was that the following Friday I would be fucked by this mysterious Akbar and not my ultimate lover - but I thought perhaps, after that hour, Serif might reward me with his body as well the cash.

The following week my heart sank as I walked through the restaurant to where Serif and his guest were waiting. My handsome Lothario was sitting with about the most unprepossessing man that I had ever seen. Take Odd Job out of James Bond for build; add a completely bald head, a heavy fleshy face, thick sensuous permanently wet lips and a badly healed scar stretching from the corner of his eye down to his jaw line. He was the ultimate sidekick to the more refined head honcho in every pirate film or eastern epic that you ever saw. Let's just say that he was not my type - and that's not mentioning the dissolution and cruelty in his eyes. My instinct was to turn and run a mile - 'but a girl's got to do what a girl's got to do'.

Forcing a smile to my face I advanced. Serif stood up and bowed but his companion remained seated. "Cherie" my lover started and followed with a short sentence of fluent colloquial French. Having spent some time in that country, I was able to reply in the same idiom. Serif allowed himself a small smile of satisfaction and then explained using the same language, "Akbar has lost a necklace that he says had been in his family for generations. I have given the impression that I have the item and he is here to negotiate its return." Then, switching to English he said, "Fiona, may I introduce my friend Colonel Mohammed Akbar."

I produced my most charming smile for the repulsive military man but he barely conceded a nod in return. "Fiona, my fragrant petal," Serif went on, "The general has very little English, so you understand that I must converse with him in our national language."

Throughout the meal, Serif kept throwing me a smile or a word in English so I had a legitimate excuse to keep my eyes on his handsome countenance rather than that of his ugly guest. Just before the sweet, my 'employer' got up and left the table. He muttered 'call of nature' to me but I think excused his departure to the other man in a more basic way. Left alone with the General I felt very self-conscious so gave him a smile to establish some minimum rapport. The look he gave back made me feel very much the 'cunt for hire' that I had undoubtedly become. Unusually for the restaurant, photographers had been active round other tables all evening. While my rejected smile remained frozen on my face, a flash bulb exploded by the side of our table. General leapt to his feet with murder in his eyes but the target of his wrath had disappeared as suddenly as he had first materialised. Serif reappeared and we ate our selections from the sweet trolley in silence. I did not enjoy my choice one little bit because I was wondering how I could force myself to be intimate with such an uncouth uncivilised man.