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I had to hustle to get home and change before my evening date. Why my professor wanted the research paper by Friday afternoon is beyond me, but I had camped out in the library until I completed the project and emailed in, with 15 minutes to spare, thank you very much. I set my computer bag down and opened my closet to look at what my options were for the evening. Oh, what did this guy like? I pulled up my email to review.
Subject: Outcall dinner date next Friday
I hope you are having a great day. I saw your ad and reviews on the escort website and would love to find out a little more about you. I have to say, the pictures of you are alluring and exciting. Would you consider being my date for dinner and the evening next Friday at 7 pm? I will be staying at a 5-star hotel just off the beach in Santa Monica. A bit about me: I am a middle-aged executive who owns a small technology company. I am 5’11” tall, fit, and a complete gentleman. I enjoy travel and the outdoors. I always treat women with kindness and respect. I have an account with your preferred screening website which you can access in the link at the bottom of my email.
Subject: RE: Outcall dinner date next Friday
I checked out your profile on the screening website and I would love to do a dinner date with you next Friday. Please send me the name of the hotel and your room number when you check-in and I will see you at 7 pm. I recognize a few of the names of your Okays and both Peyton and Sabine quickly vouched for you and said you were an excellent gentleman and said we would have a fabulous evening together.
I trust you saw my website and the rate for 4 hours of companionship is $4,000. I have included instructions for the deposit below.
Oh, yeah, this one is the nice dinner date in Santa Monica. I pulled out a nice tight black cap sleeve cocktail dress that stops halfway to my knees. Men like it since it has a wonderful decolletage cut to it. I spend the next two hours getting ready for the evening. Having done this for the last three years, I had it down to a science. Just the right curls in my hair, makeup, heels, and for sure some sexy lingerie.
Tonight, it was going to be an all-black affair, a black satin bra that pushed my girls up and turned them from a C to a D cup. A lacy black garter belt held up some seamed silk nylons, accented with little dots all up and down my legs. I opened a new package of thongs and pulled out a black pair. I found the bit of extra fabric to a thong held my moisture better, and I generally “forgot” them as I left the date to give them a little memento of our time together. The dress and pair of round-toe pumps with a 4-inch heel completed the outfit for the evening.
I reviewed the contents of my bag, wallet, phone, keys, replacement panties for the ride home (just cause I leave a pair behind doesn’t mean I don’t want to be dripping down my leg you know), a travel toothbrush, hair bands, a small makeup bag for touchups, a pocket rocket and my favorite 8-inch purple rabbit dildo. Last, but not least, a zippy bag filled with condoms, both regular and magnums. I’m on the pill but a girl can’t be too safe.
I headed down the elevator of my apartment building to catch my ride share.
“Another hot date, Olivia?” I heard a familiar voice coming from over by the mailboxes. A smiling retired gentleman waved at me.
“Hi Dennis, yep, heading out on the town.”
“When are you going to take me up on my offer to take you out to dinner sometime?”
“Oh sweetie, I couldn’t date you. I’d be calling the ambulance for you five minutes after we got upstairs. Then who would I talk to at the mailboxes?” I give him my best pouty face and stick my lower lip out a bit.
“Oh mademoiselle, I know it would be my last day on earth, but what a day it would be.”
I leaned up against him and gave him a peck on the cheek. He was still smiling when I climbed into the rideshare and headed to the hotel for my date.
Popping in my earbuds, I zoned out on the drive over. My classic rock playlist started into the strains of the live acoustic version of Resist. My thoughts wandered to how much I had changed over the years as an escort. I was your quintessential broke college student needing some money. A friend suggested I try escorting and gave me the name of a local agency. It didn’t take long to figure out that beşevler escort bayan “Rachel” could make more in an evening escorting than Olivia could make as a student office worker in the Humanities department. I lasted six months with the agency before striking it out on my own as Bethany Wilson.
Sure, I had to do more work being an independent escort; I was responsible for all my marketing, social media, and booking. However, I didn’t have to split my income with anyone and could schedule my time as I saw fit. I brushed my chestnut hair over my ear as I checked my makeup with a small mirror. I could feel the dampness in my thong as I anticipated this evening’s activities. My friend Peyton (ok, internet friend, she escorts in another city and I have never met her face to face) told me he has a great cock and he made her legitimately come twice. No faking needed that night.
I texted James that I would be there in a few more minutes and confirmed his room, 1238. I realized I had no clue what he looked like. Normally I get a copy of a photo ID, and some more info, but since he used the screening service and was verified by some others I knew, I skipped this step. I texted my safety friend where I was, who I was with, and how long I would be. Just a safety step in case something happened. The sisterhood would move into action looking for me. My phone dinged again from my payment app, indicating the remaining balance of tonight’s fee was in my account. Is there anything sexier than a man who does not haggle and pays promptly?
I breezed through the lobby. No one stops you if you look like you know where you are going and are polite. I keep my eyes on my phone as I went up the elevator. The middle-aged man I shared it with was checking me out, probably wondering how he could get in my dress. As I exited the elevator on the top floor of the hotel, I checked myself one more time in the hallway mirror. The ornate gold and red carpet muffled the sounds of my heels as I walked down the hall to the end room. Had to be a suite. A deep breath to collect myself and a quick rap to let James know I was here. I heard the metallic clank of the deadbolt sliding back and the door opened.
I was about to say “Hi James” but I was speechless. My jaw just hung open and my eyes bugged out.
“Fuck,” I heard him say. We stared at each other for a minute, trying to come to grips with the situation. I did my best soccer pivot in my heels and bolted back towards the elevator. I barely heard him call out, “Livy… Peanut….”
I could hear his footsteps coming down the hall as I jumped into the elevator. The only thoughts going through my head were “OhShitOhShitOhShit… I am so fucking dead.” Of all the times for the elevator to stop on every other fucking floor, why the fuck now??? I hear my phone ding as I beeline for the door, hoping to all hell there is a taxi available out there. I blow past the front desk and am about at the front door when I feel my someone grab my left arm and jerk me backwards. My body’s momentum pivots, and I am spun around, coming face to face with the one man I don’t want to see right now.
“Olivia,” my dad’s eyes penetrating my soul.
“Hi daddy,” I say sheepishly.
“Um… hi Peanut,” now he was at a loss for words.
I come to my senses and realized we are standing in the middle of the hotel lobby. It’s probably not the best place for this conversation. I spy a couch off in the corner and take his hand and lead him to it. I slump down and bury my face in my hands. This has got to be the absolute worst fucking day of my life.
I feel his arms wrap around me, not sensually, in the way a caring father comforts his daughter.
“It’s going to be ok, Livy.”
“I’m sorry, Dad, it’s all my fault.”
“No, Livy, it’s not your fault” I could now hear the guilt in his voice. He was looking anywhere but at me.
“Can we go somewhere else to talk, I feel… exposed here.”
“Livy, I had promised Bethany a nice dinner and have reservations at Le Papilloon, would you like to join me?”
He saw me looking down at my shoes. He lifted my chin with his forefinger and brought my gaze to his. “Please, Peanut?”
“I think I could use a daddy date right now; I feel like shit.” I winced a bit at swearing in front of my father. Last time I did that, the 15-year-old version of me was grounded for the rest of the weekend.
“I know the feeling,” he mumbled. “Let me go back up to my room and get my wallet and phone, at least I had a room key in my pocket when I ran after you. I didn’t know you could move so fast in your heels.”
I smiled back at him. I said nothing, going back up the elevator. We would catch each other looking at the other, then would look away. I followed him to his room and watched him grab his phone and wallet from the dresser.
Our silence continued as we walked out of the hotel to go the two blocks to the restaurant. We had barely cleared the front door when his phone rang. I knew that ring tone. It was the special one he had for mom. We looked balgat escort bayan at each other with an “oh crap, not now” expression on our faces. He pulled his phone out and unlocked it, but before he could answer it, I swiped it from him.
“Hi mom,” I said in my best cheery voice.
“Darling, what are you doing answering your father’s phone? And where is he?” I could see a shocked look on her face via Facetime.
“He’s right here next to me, taking me out to dinner. He got into LA just a little while ago, I guess he finished early with his client and caught an earlier flight, so he is taking me out to dinner.”
“Oh, that’s great honey, I hope you have a wonderful dinner. Why are you all dressed up?”
I sighed an enormous sigh, “Well, I was supposed to meet a new boy for dinner, and he stood me up. I was crying when Dad called, and he just went into protecting daddy’s little princess mode.”
“Well, I am glad he was there to help you, honey. So the boy stood you up, huh?”
“Yeah, for some harlot named Rachel. That’s one boy I’ll never talk to again.”
“Hang in there Olivia, can I talk to your father?”
I passed the phone over, and they chatted for a few minutes. Just normal stuff about married life, the garage door is squeaking, bills that came in, the usual stuff.
“Ok dear, I need to go now, we are at the restaurant. I’ll call you tomorrow ok? Yes, I’ll be spending the day with Livy, that’s the plan. Love you.”
I watched him put his phone away, and we both looked at each other. We made that “wow, did we just get out of that?” face to each other.
“That was some fast thinking you did just now, I’m impressed, Livy.”
“Well, comes with the line of work.” I gave him a bit of a sideways smirk.
Dad held my seat for me like a proper gentleman, and the wine steward was quickly at our table. After checking my ID, dad took his recommendation for a bottle of Malbec. “I think we both could use a drink tonight,” he joked. We looked at the menu so we wouldn’t have to make eye contact.
“You should try the duck dad, I think you’ll like it. That and the rosemary potatoes, I know you are a sucker for those.”
He laughed; I knew what my dad liked. He paused and gave me a bit of a queer look.
“So you have been here before?”
“I have not, but Bethany has.”
“Um, how does that work?”
“We share the same body, but in my mind, we are two different people.” I took a sip of wine to collect my thoughts.
“Can you tell me about Bethany Wilson?” I could see on his face he was curious.
“Well, it started my sophomore year, my roommates were going out all the time, and I didn’t have the pocket money to join them. After several weeks, one of them took me out to coffee and told me she was working for an agency and someone with my looks could take home $200 an hour, that’s after the agency took their cut. It took me a few weeks to work up the nerve, but she got me on a date with her so I was not alone for my first time. I was ‘Rachael’ well, for about four months until one night I was waiting for an elevator after an appointment when another gal joined me. As we were both adjusting our dresses and hair in the mirror in the elevator lobby, it was clear to us what we both were. She looked at me and asked ‘agency or indie?’ I told her what agency I was with and she gave me a once over. She invited me to the bar for a chat. She told me bluntly that I was wasting my time and should be independent. I got a lot of information on what independent escorting was like and how it differed from an agency. That was right before school let out, so that summer while I was working at the sandwich shop, and hating my life, I spent the summer getting everything ready. My LLC, my photoshoots, my website, etc. So when I started my junior year, I was fully ready to go. Remember how I told you I had an outstanding job and scholarship lined up?”
“And mom and I fell for it. We thought you were a research assistant in the humanities department.”
“Yeah, well, I’m sorry dad, this is all my fault. None of this would have happened if I was not so sloppy and lazy.” Ever had the feeling in the pit of your stomach like you royally screwed up? Well, that is me right about now. Gawd, how could I have been so dumb, I broke like every security rule I had.
“Your fault? Excuse me, but who reached out to Bethany? If anyone here is to blame, it is me.”
“No dad, if I had been doing my job and screening as I should be, I would realize that ‘James’ is my father. If you had said ‘Eric’ I might have known. I forget that you go by your middle name most of the time. But no, I saw on the screening website that you have like 20 okays, you dirty man, and some of whom I am friends with on Twitter, so I reached out to a couple and got quick positive feedback. So, I skipped the step of asking for your ID. Had I seen your ID, I would have given you some lame excuse for not being available and you would have gone somewhere else.”
“But then you would have known I was cheating batıkent escort bayan on your mother and I would be clueless about you. Not very fair then.”
“True, but we would have avoided the awkwardness of earlier. And I am good at keeping secrets.”
We sat silently for a few minutes enjoying our meal. As I suggested, dad liked the duck, and my lamb was excellent. Dad tried to pour some more wine, but the bottle was now empty. The buzz was feeling good, helping to suppress the guilt and conflicting emotions. I sat there looking at the man across the table from me realizing that if he were not my father, I would be jumping his bones like there was no tomorrow. He was good looking, and frankly, now I was curious how he would be in bed. Peyton had been quick to say that he was a great lover.
“I’m sorry Peanut, when I reached out to Bethany, I didn’t think it was you, just someone who closely resembled you. Your phone number was different. In your photos you don’t show your face, and you must have airbrushed your tattoos off. I didn’t see your tramp stamp or the starfish on the back of your shoulder.” He sat there looking totally dejected. I heard him mutter, more to himself than anyone else, “I really didn’t know it was you.”
“So why do you do it, dad?” He looked at me and then looked at his food. He pushed his garnishment around his plate with his fork. I heard him sigh and reposition himself in his chair.
“I don’t know…” the look of repressed resignation was on his face. “I love your mother, really I do Peanut, but things aren’t going so well in some ways for us right now.”
“Right now? Dad, something more is going on, I saw your history on the screening website and there are okays from other escorts going back eight years.”
He got quiet, and after a moment got up, set his napkin down, and walked off to the bathroom, not looking at me or saying a word. “Oh shit,” I thought to myself, “I think I pushed too far.” After 5 minutes, I got worried. I looked at my phone and there were no text messages or anything from him. I debated what to do. A moment later, our waiter came by, and I did something I had never done on a “professional” date before, I pulled out my credit card and paid for dinner.
I sent him a text, “I think I can see you need some personal space right now. I’m sorry if I pushed any of your button’s dad. I love you; I hope we can still get together tomorrow.” With that, I slipped out of the restaurant.
I started walking back to his hotel. I am not sure why, but that was the direction I headed in. As I walked, I reached back into my purse and pulled out my cell phone, and pulled up app I used to manage Bethany’s calls and texts.
I sent another text, “Hi James, Bethany here, sorry for the mix-up and missing dinner with you. I’m heading to your hotel bar, maybe we can get a drink and share a dessert?”
“Why the fuck did I just do that?” my inner voice cried out. “Because he is hurting right now, you find him very sexy and you feel bad because you hurt him and want to make it better,” said another voice.
I sat at a high bar table drinking a glass of wine, thinking about him. I realized that all my life I had been comparing every man I had ever been with, both professionally and in my civilian life, against him. Would he stand up to my expectations? Would I be able to look at myself in the mirror? A random man attempted to sit down with me, and I shooed him away. There is only one man I wanted to see tonight and he, so far, is not here.
I pulled out my work phone and began to look at his profile again. Suddenly it dawned on me what the problem was. Every okay he had, there was a small picture next to the ok. Each one was young, about 5 and a half feet tall like me, with medium-sized boobs, and most had brown hair. A couple had blonde, but one I knew changed her hair color from time to time as her mood changed so she could have been a chestnut like me when he saw her. OH MY GOD, each time he was seeing them he was fantasizing about me. I looked at the date of the first okay and realized that it was just a few months after my boobs became noticeable.
My mind wanders, and I think about what Peyton said about him. That he was a great fuck. Is she right? Would he be good with me? Or would our situation would distract him? The conflict in the pit of my stomach was eating me up. My mind flipped back to the current moment. So, there may not be problems with mom, but he has a daughter fetish. I see that all the time, but never thought my dad might be the same way. I thought about how I must have driven him crazy running around the house in tiny shorts and a tank top in high school. Not to mention all my friends coming over and doing the same.
I saw another man attempt to join me at the table, and I was about to shoo him away when I realized who it was. I got a big smile on my face.
“Hi James, sorry again for the mix-up, it is so good to meet you finally.” He had a bit of a confused look on his face as I got up and walked around the table to him and put my arms around him as he sat on his stool. I gave him a small peck on the cheek and I saw a smile on his face. I stood there with my arms around the man I had literally known all my life and leaned my head back into his. This time our lips met and holy shit, I felt a spark like I had never felt before. It was just lip, but wow, that was the best kiss I ever had.
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