Escort
Copyright© 2026 by Sandra Alek
Chapter 6
Helen quickly took off her daytime dress, put on her bikini, and waited. Steve appeared a minute later — he had changed into his “business tropical” look: expensive sand-colored shorts and a thin linen shirt.
“My plans changed, Hel. The meeting is postponed, so I thought ... want to see how legends are made?” He smiled. “Let’s take the yacht to the pearl divers.”
She clapped her hands.
“Steve, that’s a dream!”
At the dock, a beautiful white yacht was waiting. As soon as the boat left the shore, the real celebration of life began. A relaxed DJ played light house music. Waiters carried champagne in frosty glasses and tiny crab canapés. Helen danced on the deck, letting the salty spray hit her face. She felt like the heroine of a glossy magazine. The island slowly moved away, turning into an emerald spot against the deep blue water.
Soon the yacht slowed down in a quiet lagoon. The water was so clear that the bottom was visible for many meters. Below, naked divers — men and women — moved through the water with the grace of dolphins.
They dove deep, disappeared, and came back to the surface holding shells in their hands. Their nakedness didn’t look forced — it seemed like a natural part of this ancient work.
One of the swimmers, a strong tanned man, came close to the side of the yacht. He flashed a bright white smile and held out a large shell covered in limestone to Helen.
“For good luck, madam? Buy a closed one — there might be a treasure inside!”
Steve put a stack of bills in her hand. Helen, laughing, gave the diver 50 dollars. The man, happy with the generous tip, saluted her and disappeared underwater.
“Come on, open it!” Steve urged her.
A crew member handed her a special knife. Helen watched with a racing heart as the blade slipped into the crack. A click — and the shell opened. In the pink flesh of the mollusk, right in the center, a small ball glowed softly. A tiny, perfectly round pearl with a gentle creamy shine.
Helen gasped and pressed her hands to her lips. Tears stung her eyes.
Everyone around clapped and congratulated the “lucky one.”
When the yacht returned, Steve said he had a call, and Helen walked back to the bungalow on foot. She wanted to feel the sand under her feet and hold onto this feeling of pure joy a little longer.
When she entered the bedroom, she first took off her bikini. Completely naked in the golden light of the setting sun that filled the room, she walked to the mirror. The pearl felt cool in her palm.
Helen began pressing it against her body, studying her reflection carefully. First to her neck — classic. Then to the hollow between her breasts. But then her gaze moved lower. She placed the pearly ball on her stomach, and then on the spot where the neat strip from the grooming now showed.
“Where will you look best?” she whispered to her reflection. She imagined Steve seeing this tiny treasure on her skin, and a shiver of anticipation ran through her body.
The phone in her hand vibrated, pulling her out of staring at her own body. It was Andrew. Still riding the wave of excitement, Helen pressed the video call button.
“Andrew, look!” She held her open palm with the pearl right up to the camera. “I found it myself! Well, I bought the shell from a diver, and inside—”
She stopped. Her husband’s face on the screen twisted, but not with joy. He wasn’t looking at the pearl.
“Why are you naked, Helen?” His voice hit like a whip.
“I’m in my bedroom, Andrew. I just got out of the shower,” she tried to keep her tone light.
“Look at this pearl! It’s real!”
“Did he buy you with this little thing?” Andrew narrowed his eyes. Clear disgust flashed in his look. “You don’t cost much if you sell yourself for a piece of mother-of-pearl.”
Helen felt everything inside her freeze.
“He didn’t buy me! I told you — I bought the shell from the diver. With my own money!”
“Don’t tell me stories!” he shouted. “You’re out there having fun on yachts, showing your body to rich guys...”
“Yesterday you called me a whore, and now a prostitute?!” Helen’s voice broke into a scream. Tears of rage filled her eyes. “You know what? Go to hell, Andrew! Just go to hell!”
She jabbed the screen hard to end the call and threw the phone onto the bed. Her chest rose and fell heavily.
At that moment there was a short knock on the bedroom door.
“Come in!” she shouted, not even thinking that she had nothing on.
The door opened. Steve stepped inside. His eyes immediately landed on naked Helen standing in the middle of the room in the golden light of sunset. He froze. For a split second his mask of calm completely fell — a fire lit up in his eyes so strong that Helen almost felt its heat on her skin.
“Oh ... sorry,” Steve quickly stepped back and closed the door. “I didn’t think you were...”
His voice sounded unusually muffled through the door. There was a pause, then he added:
“I’ll wait for you in the living room. We can go to lunch when you’re ready.”
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