Ménage for the Night (2 page)

I sat in the black taxi and ran a
finger along the inside of my black shirt collar and loosened another button. I
was so excited to have been approached by Logan again, we’d worked together a
number of times now and each time he taught me something new. I’d been a
typical cocky, arrogant twenty year old when we first crossed paths, thinking,
given my age, my stamina would outlast his, I’d been sorely mistaken. The man
would put any Iron Man contestant in the shade. He’d taken pity on me and told
me that every escort had to start somewhere and if I’d follow instructions on
any bookings, he’d be happy to let me learn from him. That just showed his self-confidence.
Any other male escort would be threatened by a newbie on the scene, not Logan.
He’d already taught me so much in the art of seducing a woman, rather than
charging in and pounding them hell for leather. He’d told me some story about a
tortoise and a hare, that had gone in one ear and out of the other, what didn’t
pass straight through were the tips and pointers he gave me. I watched him with
an eagle eye when he was one on one with a client and I was taking a back seat,
anything to improve my technique, to make me as good as him.

It was lucky that my cock wasn’t adversely affected being
overshadowed by his. I’d never questioned my size, in fact Logan was the first
guy I’d seen better hung than me. That may give some guys a complex, but I was
made of stronger stuff than that. Large as we were, I was sure there were guys
out there even bigger, there was always someone higher up the food chain.
Besides, if either of us were any more stacked, I doubted women would want to
fuck us for free, let alone to pay for it. One particularly tight girlfriend
I’d been with had to have stitches, as well as carry around a rubber ring to
sit on for a week, after our first time. From that moment on, I always made
sure my kit contained plenty of lubricant, as well as condoms. I looked at the
client file that Logan had sent over to me, to familiarise myself with the plan
for tonight and had to double check the age of the woman in picture. No way was
she forty-five. She looked in her early to mid-thirties, if that. Talk about a
hot cougar.

I want a ménage for the night. Two men, not another woman
and I don’t want it to be sleazy, rough or dirty. I want something gentle, sexy
and sensual. I’m not adverse to being penetrated while I have another in my
mouth, but I’m not sure I could cope with double penetration.

I nodded, this was new. I’d never done a romantic soft
ménage before, always rough, raw and hard. Logan was the master at seduction
though, then again he was the master in any situation, I’d have to take my cues
from him tonight. He’d instructed me to dress smart casual, which to Logan
meant a suit no tie. I was to take a seat at the bar, while he met the client
at the other end and then I was to follow them up to the suite, without making
it obvious we were together. One night’s cut from Logan was more than I could
earn on my own in probably five sessions or more and I needed the money. I
wasn’t just in this for the sex, much as I loved it. I’d got into masses of
debt at University, too interested in partying hard instead of getting a job.
I’d also pretty much flunked out, which had been a serious wake up call. I
wasn’t unintelligent, just damn lazy, preferring alcohol and women to studying,
a choice I now regretted when I’d realised my career aspirations had been
dashed without the first class honours degree I’d needed. Sex was the only way
I could see of making myself enough money to pay off my debts and to try and
start my studies again. A few good years at this would set me back on the
straight and narrow. It would be great to command the sort of respect,
reputation and fees Logan did. I could pick and choose assignments around my
degree coursework and not have to fuck women I found it hard to
get
hard
for. The phrase lie back and think of England seemed apt for me, only I didn’t
have the luxury of lying back.

I paid the taxi driver and strode through the revolving
doors, nodding at the doorman and made my way to the bar as instructed. Ever
the professional, Logan was already there, seated at the far end, dressed in a
light grey suit, white shirt and dark grey tie. He gave me a discreet nod, as
he picked up his drink of choice, water, no ice with lime, and took a swig. In
the past I’d ordered non-alcoholic beer while on a job, but Logan had told me
that the smell of beer on a man’s breath was off putting to some women, so I
should stick to water or something sweet, like lemonade, to leave no lingering
odour or flavours. I didn’t smoke either. Men were as objectified by women
nowadays, as women were by men, we had to stay in great shape and let’s face
it, who wanted to be shown up by Logan bloody Steele? Man of Steele more like.
If Logan had auditioned for Superman, Henry Cavill would be looking for another
job. The only thing in my favour was my blond haired, blue eyed looks, that
some women went crazy over, at least that differentiated me from him.

I ordered a sparkling water with ice and lemon and took a
seat, as I checked my watch. Ten minutes until she was due to arrive. I felt my
cock twitch, the thought of having a woman that fit for her age, was one hell
of a turn on. Then again, at my age, anything was a turn on. Everything
reminded me of sex, I was a constant walking erection, at risk of breaking my
cock by walking into tables or doors. My aroused state didn’t go unnoticed by a
group of girls in the bar, who were giggling and playing eye tennis between
Logan and I. I caught his eye and saw his lips lift at the corners, as he shook
his head. He was used to all attention, it was like water off a duck’s back, I
on the other hand, loved it. I reached down and draped my hand between my legs
and squeezed myself slowly, as I held one of the girls’ gaze and smirked as she
choked on her cocktail and went red. If I’d not been working, she’d have been
just my type and I might have booked a room, just to invite her up.

‘Mrs. Renshaw? May I come in? I have
a delivery for you.’

‘Of course,’ I called, as I sat at my dressing table and
applied my mascara. I turned and smiled as Anne, our housekeeper, entered the
master bedroom with a large white box, tied with a red ribbon.

‘A gift from Mr. Renshaw?’ she enquired, as she placed it on
the bed.

‘Quite possibly,’ I nodded, as I tried to keep my cheeks
from flushing as I lied. I knew that was from Logan. I’d had them from him
before.

‘What time will you be home tonight? Will you want anything
making?’

‘That’s so kind of you, but I’ll be fine, Anne. I may be
very late, in fact, I may stay out for the night.’

‘Going dancing again with the girls,’ she nodded with a
grin.

‘You’re too observant,’ I replied with a smile, feeling
awful that I had to keep up this deception. She was a good woman and I detested
lies, but sometimes they were a necessity. ‘Enjoy a night off Anne, you deserve
it.’

‘And you deserve to have some fun. I don’t know how you cope
with Mr. Renshaw being away so often, if that was my husband I wouldn’t be as
tolerant.’

‘It’s his job, I knew that when we got married. He works
hard and provides well for me, I can’t complain.’

‘You’re too nice,’ she retorted with raised brows, as she
made her way over the door. ‘Enjoy your night out.’

‘I will,’ I nodded, not lying this time. Enjoying a night
with Logan Steele came with a guarantee. I sighed as she closed the door behind
her and put my head in my hands. I’d never wanted to be the sort of woman who
cheated on her husband, yet while David was the perfect provider, he was so
lacking in so many other ways. I felt like I was just a façade, the pretty wife
who could attend his finance functions and stuffy dinners, someone to look good
on his arm and be able to hold intelligent conversations about the state of the
markets, political affairs and current world news. I should have known when our
sex life was less than inspiring during those earlier years, that he was never
going to be the passionate man I craved. He was good looking, charming and
attentive while he was pursuing me, and initially sex hadn’t been too bad, but
it had rapidly fizzled out the higher up the ranks he rose. He rarely spent any
time with me, when he did I felt like I was with a stranger and he tried to
make up for his absences with a new shiny bauble. I had an entire section of my
dressing room given up to jewellery boxes and drawers. Beautiful as they were,
I’d give up all of them, all of his wealth and trappings, if it meant I could
be the object of his affection, for him to crave me, to not be able to get
enough of me. I knew I paid Logan to be that way with me, but I’d never felt
more needed or desirable, than those sessions with him. Not since I was a
teenager and fell in love with my best friend.

I stood up and slid my dressing gown off my shoulders and
looked at my naked body in the mirror. I was in great shape for my age. We’d
never had children, even if he’d wanted children, the lack of sex would have
made that impossible. It had to have been eighteen months since he last mounted
me. And I use the term mounted for a reason. He was drunk and I was there. He
didn’t want me, I could have actually been anyone. A couple of thrusts and it
was over and I’d had to roll him off me when he’d promptly fallen asleep,
oblivious to my lack of orgasm and tears. I’d forgotten what sex could actually
be like, until one of my friends had convinced me to email Logan three years
ago. My night with him had been an eye opener, in more ways than one. I was
even beginning to question David’s sexuality, maybe he was gay and he’d only
married me for appearances. All I knew was that I was a sexual woman and I was severely
lacking. There was only so much a whole drawer of sex toys could give you.
Nothing could replicate a passionate kiss, skin on skin, the heat generated
between two bodies. I knew, given that I was paying for sex every few months,
my logic was slightly flawed, even more hypocritical, but by paying Logan I
felt the betrayal was slightly lessened. I wasn’t having an ongoing affair, I
wasn’t mentally or emotionally cheating, it was purely physical. Something to
scratch that unbearable itch every few months, an itch my husband should be
scratching. It wasn’t like I hadn’t tried talking to him about it, every time I
told him I was unhappy he’d just buy me more jewels and I’d end up buying
another vibrator.

I headed over to the bed, undid the red ribbon and lifted
the lid of the box and smiled. Logan was always classy with his deliveries.
Wrapped in tissue paper was a beautiful red satin bra, the cups of which were
linked with pearls, then I caught my breath, as I picked up the matching red
and pearl thong and felt myself clench at the thought of the cool beads against
my hot flesh. I carefully stepped into it, shimmied it up and flexed my hips as
the pearls nestled into place. Damn it, Logan. I’d never worn a pearl thong,
what was he trying to do to me? Have me come as I walked into the bar? I did up
the bra, never questioning how he knew my size, Logan was a consummate
professional, he knew everything he needed to know, for any occasion. I nodded
approvingly at the knee length red lace dress with long sleeves, surprisingly
demure yet sexy at the same time and sat on the bed to do up the red high
heeled shoes. I guessed red was a colour of passion and desire, quite apt given
my fantasy tonight.

I brushed my hair into a side ponytail, which I draped over
my shoulder, slicked on some clear gloss and headed to the dressing room to
grab an appropriate clutch, gasping at the sensation of the pearls rolling
against my clit and lips. If his aim was to get me wet before I saw him,
mission accomplished. The feeling was sensational. I headed downstairs, more
slowly than normal, as I tried to adjust to the pearls rubbing against me and
rising higher into my flesh. I walked across the marble lobby and went into the
kitchen, where Anne was making her dinner.

‘Mrs. Renshaw,’ she gasped. ‘You look stunning.’

‘Thank you,’ I smiled. ‘I’ll be heading out in a while, I
have my mobile on me if David calls here for me.’

‘
If
he calls I’ll let him know,’ she replied with a
slight shake of her head. I tried not to let onto the staff how things were
between the two of us, but she was too astute and had caught me in tears once
too often. She went to make a move as the doorbell rang.

‘Please stay put, it’s only my ride. I’ll probably see you
tomorrow.’

‘Have a lovely evening.’

‘I’m sure I will,’ I called over my shoulder, that was a
given. I opened the door to find Logan’s driver waiting for me, with the car
door already open. I let out a slight mewl as I lowered myself into the car and
the pearls moved higher, they were firmly wedged in my groove, pressed against
my clit. When the engine started, the vibrations ran straight through them and
had me clench my teeth and close my eyes as pleasure coursed through me.