Women of New York: Flora

Susie laughed. "I don't think there's much doubt about who he wants. You both might as well go now, Flora."

"Perhaps you would prefer someone else?"

Charles shook his head. "I think not."

Flora led him upstairs and into her room. As soon as the door was closed he pulled her to him and kissed her, long and hard.

"You're a damned attractive woman."

"It isn't necessary to pay me compliments. Only money."

"I thought you would make a good wife."

"And now?"

"I still think so."

"Damaged goods, I'm afraid. Not wife material."

"No. Anyway, you despised me."

"Not despise. I thought you a bore."

"And I thought you an empty-headed, immature little girl."

Flora raised her eyebrows. "A good wife, you said."

"My ego made me think I could make you grow up."

"It took more than your ego," Flora sadly responded. "Now I'm a whore."

"No! Never a whore."

"Sex for money. Definition."

"Damn the definition. That doesn't automatically make a woman a whore."

"You surprise me more and more. Whether we agree on that or not, you're here for the sex and I'm here for the money. Shall we get on with the business in hand?"

Charles nodded agreement. "Um."

They undressed without any teasing or modesty and lay together on the bed, perfectly still, their flesh lightly touching. His fingers began to explore her body, tracing delicate lines up her thigh, across her stomach and to her breasts. He went under and circled round, with just the whisper of a touch on her nipples; they hardened.

She sighed. "Um. That's nice."

"You're very good. You even sound as if you mean it."

"I do I really was a silly idiot. How could I have thought you were a bore?"

"I hid my talents beneath a veneer of respectability."

"Um." She nodded agreement. "Your wife doesn't know what she's missing."

"She knows, but she prefers to close her eyes tight, clench her fingers and press her legs together."

He had now begun to concentrate on her vagina, but she trapped his hand between her thighs.

"Like this, do you mean?"

He laughed. "I don't even get this far."

"Is she still a virgin?"

"No, I've occasionally managed to get into her."

She opened her legs. "You won't have a problem with me."

They kissed again as his fingers stroked her labia, magically parting them, leaving her vulva free to his exploration. He planted small kisses on her ears and neck before reaching her breasts where his ministrations became more intense. Flora was a well-used prostitute, but she was aroused by his actions.

So was he. His cock rested against her, in a complete state of erection and throbbing in readiness for entry into the waiting vagina. Eagerly waiting, for he had now begun to stimulate her clitoris, that most erotic part of the female body. The moan that escaped her was one born of sexual excitement.

"Put it in," she urged. "I want my pussy filled with your cock."

"Aren't you forgetting something?"

"What?"

"Don't you have a male safe?"

"Oh, damn! Not now. I'm ready for you now."

"And I'm ready for you, so if you don't hurry and get it on, my sperm will be all over your body. It makes a sticky mess."

"I know."

He chuckled. "So it's happened before."

"Some men can't hold it." She tried to squiggle round, reaching in vain for the male safe on the bedside cabinet.

"Let me."

"Don't stop what you're doing," Flora urged.

"I wouldn't dream of it."

The male safe was obtained and with undue haste, rolled onto his rock-hard penis; only it was softer to the touch and warmer than a rock.

"I hate it coming between us," Flora murmured.

"So do I."

He lay on top and sank his cock into her well-lubricated pussy, its pulsing and throbbing spreading waves of delight through her entire body.

They came together in one long accumulation of satisfied sighs, clasping each other tightly. After a few moments of stillness and rigidity, they both relaxed their muscles and lay together, their rapid breathing slowly returning to normal.

"I thought a prostitute got no gratification from fucking."

"Sometimes I do."

"Like now."

"Like now."

She missed him after he had left her and longed to be back in his arms again. The boring, strait-laced Charles Dunne. She still found it hard to believe he had paid to have sex with her; what's more, he had given her an orgasm!

Charles became a regular visitor to the house kept by Mrs Greene. Although he would sit and chat amiably with the other 'lady boarders', he would always go upstairs with Flora, despite sometimes having to wait for her to finish satisfying some other man. He did his best to hide his jealousy.

A few months after their first encounter, they were lying next to each other, satiated by their coupling, when Charles made his offer.

"I can't bear the thought of you being with other men and I want you to become my mistress."

"Why, Charles, this is so sudden." She giggled.

"I'm glad you find the request so amusing."

"Of course I don't. I'm flattered, but how would your wife react? Paying for your pleasure is one thing, but a mistress is quite another."

"Not really. I'd still be paying for my pleasure, as you put it."

"True."

"Anyway, there's more to it than that. I've bought this house."

Flora quickly sat up. "What do you mean -- bought it?"

"What people usually mean. I've paid money to the owner who has handed over the deeds and it's now mine. I've also made an arrangement with Mrs Greene. She's retiring into the country, which she's long had a hankering for."

"Is this to be the house of your mistress?" Flora enquired, a distinct chill in her voice.

"Wouldn't you like it to be? After all, you must feel at home here."

"I haven't agreed to be your mistress. Anyway, this house is a brothel, where I've spent my time on my back gratifying the lusts of numerous men."

"You misunderstand me. I have no intention of changing its use. This will remain a parlor-house, but you will no longer be one of the boarders. I'd like you to take charge. I'm sure you'll make a splendid job of it. No men, except for one totally besotted lover."

"Really?" Flora's eyes were opened wide in surprise.

"Yes, really. What do you say?"

"When do I start?"

The first-class house with ten 'lady boarders' run by Miss Flora Phillips (a slight change of name) was extremely popular with wealthy foreign men, who spread the word around the globe, thus making it internationally known. She was a most welcoming and pleasant hostess, and the 'lady boarders' were charming, pretty and accomplished at their work.

After a period of time and a great deal of heart-searching and apprehension on Flora's part, she agreed that Charles should inform her parents of her whereabouts and history. Though profoundly shocked at the whole story and an initial reluctance to reaquaint themselves with their long lost daughter, they eventually gave in to their natural familial feelings. The tears and the joy flowed from them all in equal measure.

One night, nestled up to Charles, she reflected on how nearly perfect her life was after its twists and turns; nearly.

"Dearest."

"Um?"

"Make love to me."

"Again?"

"Please."

He willingly obliged. He was hardened and ready for penetration when he reached for the male safe.

"Not this time," she whispered.

"But you might get pregnant."

"Would you mind?"

"I'd be honored."

It took six months of trying, during which much pleasure was obtained, before John Ambrose Dunne was conceived. He proved to be a fine, sturdy offspring, with the hair and eye colouring of his mother, and the nose, ears and firm chin of his father.

"Poor mite," Flora sighed, as she cradled him in her arms. "Conceived and born in a brothel."

"Some men might believe that was a good place to be."

They looked at each other and laughed.