Lotto Dreams
Chapter 3

Copyright© 2004 by Paradox116

Erotica Sex Story: Chapter 3 - This is a semi-autobiographical telling of the daydreams I have of winning the Lottery. Names have been changed, but if you know who I am in the real world, you'll know who I speak of. Places are actually places in Salt Lake City. As I said, these are my daydreams.

Caution: This Erotica Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa   Mult   Consensual   Romantic   BiSexual   Heterosexual   Fiction   Spanking   Anal Sex   Masturbation  

It was a good thing his flight class wasn't early in the day, or he'd have slept through it. As it was, he'd needed a long shower and a full pot of coffee before feeling nearly normal. But it had been worth it when Luke mentioned he'd called last night to check on the time this morning and Nick had neither answered nor returned his call. Carl had turned and stared at him when he told them he'd been out clubbing. Luke wanted to know where he'd gone, and if the music was good. Nick had admitted the music was ok, but the company had made it even better. Then he left it at that.

Now he was pulling into the parking lot of the health club he'd visited Wednesday. It was a new facility, he'd noticed, with lots of state-of-the-art equipment. It was too bad the personnel at the main desk had been such pricks. But Cyan had told him whom to ask for, and he walked through the door.

The same condescending ass he'd spoken to Wednesday manned the greeter station. "Ah, welcome back! So, you've decided to join us, hmm? Let me ask Roger to get you set up!"

Nick held up a restraining hand. "Actually, I want to speak to Connie."

"Well, Connie's not really qualified to..." the man began, then shut up when Nick leaned toward him, his eyes narrowed in irritation.

"If Connie isn't here, I'll come back another time. If she is here, I'd appreciate it if you'd page her."

The man nodded, disgruntled, then turned to the little microphone that stood on the desk, and made the page.

Nick looked around again as he waited, and noted the attractive brunette that weaved her way through the machines, sometimes offering encouragement or instruction to a patron. The biking shorts she wore accented her nicely muscled legs, and the tee shirt with the company logo fit her comfortably, not enhancing her physique, but not concealing it either.

"Connie, this gentleman wanted to speak to you. Take care of him, then go get me a bottle of PowerAde." He turned and greeted the next member with false camaraderie as Connie glared daggers at him.

"Hi, I'm Connie. What can I do for you, Mr... ?"

"Essex, Nick Essex. I've been looking for a health club to join, and hadn't felt like I was getting the response I wanted from the salespeople pretending to be trainers. My friend Cyan said I should come here and ask for you."

"Oh! Cyan told me you might come by. She didn't know when though. Come on through, I'll show you around." She leaned over the desk and clicked the turnstile release. "Todd, I'm going to be busy, get your own damn drink."

The pretty brunette turned back to Nick. "Did you bring something to work out in?"

"Yeah, got some cut-off sweats and tee shirt in here," he indicated the hiking pack he carried. "I had to call and beg Lydia not to trash my sneakers this morning, though. I decided I'd need them."

"Why was Lydia going to trash your shoes? Oh, you're the special project Cyan has been hinting about!"

Nick laughed. "Is being a project a good or bad thing?"

"Well good or bad aside, you've made us curious. Go in and change, and I'll talk to you when you get back out."

When Nick came out, Connie was speaking calmly to a man wearing a staff shirt that had the word "manager" under his name and a clearly irritated Todd. "She's not a qualified trainer, Jack. Let someone experienced take care of this guy!"

"Oh, like you, Todd?" Nick sneered the name, then turned to the other man. "Do you know the feeling I got from your 'trainers', Jack? I got the distinct feeling that as soon as I signed their contract, the only help I'd see was them helping themselves to my wallet."

"I asked around, Jack. Several people told me to come back here, and talk to Connie. They told me she'd work me hard, but she'd be right there whenever I needed help or had a question. Now, if you'll excuse us, Connie was going to help me get a program set up, then we were going to sign some papers." Nick held out his arm, indicating Connie should lead the way.

As Connie was showing him the machines and free weights, she explained that what she did here was "off-the-clock" as far as Cyan was concerned. "In other words, your deal with Cyan has nothing to do with what I help you with here."

Nick nodded his understanding while concentrating on the deltoid exercise he was trying to master.

When they sat at the little desk to fill out his application on the computer, he was sweating freely. Connie had worked him just as hard as promised. "Connie, I have a question about what the club offers. You showed me the machines, and the sauna and pool will be real handy. Does the club offer self-defense classes? Karate, Judo, Kung Fu?" he said the last with a grin.

"No, but if you're really interested, I know a few fellows that are instructors. I could hook you up."

Nick grinned at the cute brunette. "Would that be "off the clock"?

She looked around then blew him a raspberry.

He showered at the gym, after asking about Connie's schedule, then headed over to Weight-Watchers. He figured if he was gonna do the work, he may as well work on the diet too.

The phone rang Thursday evening as he sat at the computer, searching for information on airplanes. "Yello," he said into the handset.

"Good evening Nick." He recognized Cyan's voice immediately. "How has your week been?"

"Pretty good, although Connie thinks I need to come in 9 times a week."

He heard Cyan laugh. "Connie has been telling the ladies about you. She's impressed with your efforts, and she doesn't impress easily. Oh, I saved your jeans from Lydia Friday night, but she had her way with your shirt. Sorry."

He laughed. "Don't tell her, but I have a closet full of replacements. Although she's welcome to my white work shirts. I keep thinking I should have a ceremonial bonfire with them."

"Anyway, the reason I'm calling. Lydia has been hinting she'd like another occasion with you; maybe taking you out again and dancing some more, but I had another thought. Your brother mentioned you had some classical music interest. Is that right?"

"Yeah, I listen to it when the mood strikes."

"Good. The Symphony has a concert this Saturday. I believe the featured soloist is Roger McDuria on the violin. Let's negotiate. I'll reserve two tickets in your name, but you'll have to purchase them. Sorry, but that's how it works." He made a noise of agreement. "Good. Now Lydia has never been to the Symphony, but she's like you, she does enjoy the classics. For seven fifty, I'll assign her to you for five hours. That would give you time for a very nice dinner, the Symphony, and an hour to just talk. But I'll make it open-ended. If she wants to drag you to the clubs after, it's "off the clock" as far as I'm concerned. You'll have to make your own negotiation with her, though." Cyan suspected there would be no negotiation; Lydia was more likely to turn it into a real date once the clock struck ten. Nick wasn't likely to get laid, though.

"I'd like that. Now, how formal would this be? Would the dark silk suit be ok, or should I wear the tux?" On the previous Tuesday six hand-altered outfits had been delivered to his home, five more suits in various shades of gray and black, and a very nice classic black tuxedo with all the trim.

"I'm a traditional woman, Nick. I say you can't go wrong with a tux. But I'll check with Lydia, you might want the suit if she makes you dance after. Actually, I'll have her give you a call, and you can decide on a restaurant together. I'll make sure you have reservations. Nick, I have to admit, working with you is going to be a pleasure. You're making me work harder than any other client, and I'm having a blast! Talk to you again soon!"

Nick chuckled. Ok, he was paying for a date. If he'd just asked someone, he'd still pay for it. Admittedly, a lot less. But he was almost guaranteed a pleasant evening and good company with Cyan's help. On his own, he foresaw a night of slow conversation, uncomfortable pauses and probably little common interests. He preferred to pay the high fee rather than suffer a wasted evening.

He was sitting down to dinner when the phone rang. He figured it was probably his mother, calling to harangue him for not checking in. It had been, he admitted, a whole week since they'd talked. He was pleasantly surprised to hear Lydia on the other end, instead.

"Hey handsome!"

Nick laughed. "Well, hello beautiful! How have you been?"

They chatted for a while, discussing what to wear Saturday, where to eat, other important matters. They agreed the tux would be good; he could always check the coat and dance in the vest.

He could hear someone in the background on her end, it sounded like they were whispering to Lydia. "Nick, question for ya, well, actually a request. Jeanvieve wants to know if we'll take her dancing too. She says she'll pay her own way, it's not like a date, but she says she had a good time with us and wants to do it again. I told her I'd ask, but it was totally up to you."

"Is she there?" Nick asked.

He could almost hear her embarrassment as she answered affirmatively.

"Let me talk to her, then."

"Umm, hello Nick. I'm sorry, it was a dumb idea, never mind!" Her words seemed to tumble out of her.

"Hello Jeanvieve. No, it wasn't a dumb idea. If it's ok with Lydia, we'll make it a date. My treat, same as any date. Shall I pick you up about 10?" He could hear them talking, but couldn't hear what was being said, probably someone's hand was over the mouthpiece.

But he distinctly heard Lydia say, "I told you he'd say yes! He is absolutely cool!"

Then Lydia was back on the line. "Nick, thank you. Jean is one of my best friends, and she's feeling a little depressed. Terrence is going all over the club scene saying Jean's a worthless piece of... well, you know; can't dance, rotten fuck; like he'd know, I know she's never let him near it! Just putting her down all over."

"Well, we'll improve her mood, guaranteed!"

"Yes, we will. Pick me up at my place, about 5?"

Since Nick didn't know where she lived, he figured she meant at the Hilton. "Looking forward to it, dear. Talk to you later!"

They had dinner at Christopher's, a very nice restaurant serving the delicious steaks Nick preferred, and a marvelous pasta dish that Lydia insisted he sample. They talked about a dozen different subjects, laughing about some of the professors they'd had last year at the U, what movies they'd loved and hated, books and music. When it was time to leave, Nick was almost reluctant for the Symphony, because they wouldn't be able to talk more there.

The restaurant was just two blocks south of Abravanel Hall, so they strolled casually, her arm tucked in his as she leaned slightly against him. Tonight, she wore the classic 'little black dress'. A strap behind her neck held up the backless fabric that seemed to drape over her, accentuating her breasts even as it discreetly hid her cleavage. The dress hung down to about four inches above the knee, and her three-inch heels seemed to stretch her legs enchantingly. Her hair was still spiky and blue, and he still loved it that way.

"Nick, I realize some things about you. One, you obviously have money, because I'm here with you right now. But you aren't used to it. People who have had money for a long time bitch over every penny they spend. When Cyan or the rest of us do business with them, they try to negotiate every discount they can. They'd insist Cyan pay for tonight's tickets. They'd pay more, of course, because she'd only adjust her fee. But they wouldn't care, because 'The tickets were free'. "

"Cyan took you shopping. She informed you in advance of her fee, and how long she intended to be. She would have had to bill other clients at least twice, and charged them ridiculous late fees. You had her fee, in cash, ready for her. You even turned it over to Neal without hesitating. Do you know how thrilled she was about that? She billed you for her additional time. Did you notice she gave you the receipt for this?" Lydia tapped his ear stud. "Normally, she'd just add the amount she paid, and another fifty to seventy-five percent to her bill. Old money has no clue what anything costs, but they bitch if they have to pay. Last Friday, you arrived with my fee, and full payment of Cyan's bill. You don't negotiate. Why?"

They walk on for a bit more before he answered. "You're right, I'm not old money. I know what things cost. I called around before I contacted Cyan. I know what other so-called 'escorts' were asking, and what they offered for their fees. The service Cyan offers is well worth what I pay her, or you, or even Connie if I need her services. So far, I'm pleased with the cost-to-benefit ratio. I imagine I might try to negotiate if we started discussing more unexpected or 'personal' services. But when I'm satisfied with service, I pay." He grinned at her. "But I don't tip, so make sure you include that in the bill."

Lydia knew he'd lied there. She'd seen the tip he'd left at the restaurant, and Connie said he tipped her after every session at the gym. What he meant was he expected her bill to be padded comfortably. She had to admit that Friday, it had been. Tonight, maybe she'd see if she could get a tip, instead.

"Do you think I'm pretty, Nick?"

"Very much so."

"I thought so. You looked at me Friday night like you wanted to take me in your arms. But you didn't because that was too personal. You didn't try to kiss me good night, even after I bit your ear. Because we had a contractual situation. Tonight, when we dance, you'll kiss me, because we're "off the clock". But you know you won't get me into your bed, because that's one of those unusual and personal matters we have to negotiate."

He nodded. "I know. And I like you, and want to know you better before I try that negotiation. I'm fairly patient." He added with a grin.

"Well, just because we're not ready to negotiate, doesn't mean you'll necessarily sleep alone tonight." Lydia looked up at him as he led them to the box-office.

When they'd wandered to a private corner of the lobby, he looked at her enquiringly. "Explain that, please."

Lydia bit her lip for a moment trying not to giggle as her eyes sparkled mirthfully. "I mean, Jeanvieve thinks you're very nice. Very nice indeed. In fact, she said she thought you were hot. Actually, she said: 'That Nick is really hot. I wonder if an old guy like him would be interested in me.' "

"Oh sure, build me up as hot, then bring in the 'old guy' and cut me down again. You are a cruel young lady, Lydia." Then he wrapped his arm around her waist and led her to their seats.

The symphony had been a delight. Following Lydia's directions, he pulled the Jaguar XK8 into the parking lot of Jeanvieve's apartment complex about 10:00. "I was going to have you leave your coat here, but you look so good, I want to dance with you in your tuxedo. I told Jeanvieve to dress-up, I hope she listened! Wait here, I'll go get her."

When they came back, it was obvious that Jean had indeed paid attention to her friend's advice. She wore a tight little dress that hung to her mid thigh, and was cut low to accent her full bosom. The color of the dress almost matched the dark green paint of his car. Tonight, her hair was pulled into a French braid that hung down her spine, and she'd done something with her makeup that turned her pleasant face into something remarkable.

 
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