Chapter 36

Leonora had driven Harry to Miami from Savannah Georgia where he had met her after his flight from DC to LA for a couple auditions and a brief happy reunion with Jenny. He had his reading at another cool independent bookstore the evening they arrived.

The next evening she joined a diverse group of escorts representative of every race and body type, except fat of course. She and a voluptuous blonde and a svelte mulatto woman arrived earlier than the rest of the women, serving the men at the meeting/poker game drinks only wearing a butt baring thong. She made use of the opportunity recording the meeting via a recording device in a lipstick container in her purse, and it even had a tiny camera when she twisted it to bring forth actual lipstick, and while applying it scanned the group.

Not long after the scanning, the rest of the escorts arrived, fully distracting the players, ending the poker game. The house, owned by a youthful second generation drug kingpin, the son of a swarthy, charismatic Columbian and his beautiful blonde mistress, groomed to take over the US side of things, to pretend legitimacy, charismatic himself, the proverbial tall, dark and handsome, had been built for such occasions. Couches and loveseats occupied the space beside the large poker table, on the second floor of the home, with a broad balcony that overlooked the pool, and the pool itself had furniture for intimacy as did the large room inside, essentially mirroring the upstairs at least in intention. Designed for large parties, this was decidedly a small one. Nevertheless all party areas were utilized, almost if they were giant bedrooms, some privacy for every player.

It was if there was some sort of tag game going on, and the players wanted the variety of women which had been provided. Having more women than men, there was also some double teaming and even lesbian action, and even more when a few of the men decided on double teaming a woman.

Leonora experienced all of these things in all of the party spaces. Luckily there were bowls of condoms and even lube if needed. She managed to avoid being anally penetrated, managing to suck off one cock while the other cock fucked her before moving on. Despite all the action, and despite many of the men getting fairly drunk, the men were surprisingly well behaved. It helped that the women all expressed compliance and even enthusiasm. These were professionals, probably the best escorts available. It also helped that, despite the source of the kingpin’s wealth being cocaine, none of the men indulged, the only drugs in their system alcohol and Viagra.

She ended the night in the first bed she actually visited, the kingpin’s, shared by the svelte mulatto, probably the woman she was most attracted to. He watched them sixty-nine before fucking each from behind.

When they relaxed, Leonora asked, as carefully as possible, “Isn’t cocaine a party staple?”

He laughed. “Especially since it’s the family business. My father taught me not to indulge, rather harshly at first, but he soon showed me what a bad choice it was.”

Surprised by his frankness, though his last name pretty much clued things in, Leonora was happy that the mulatto, instead of her, asked, “By example?”

“Yes,” he sighed sadly. “My mother and one of his most trusted lieutenants who was supposed to look after her. They could no longer be trusted and my father made sure that I understood that cocaine was why. I’m afraid if you were hoping for some...”

“That’s okay,” Leonora said. “Just curious.”

“I wouldn’t mind,” said the mulatto.

He laughed. “I was going to say you’ll have to wait. You’ll appreciate my parting gift I gave to everyone here. Even if I don’t indulge, I imagine most will enjoy the gift.”

“You can have mine,” Leonora told the mulatto woman.

“A woman after my heart,” the kingpin grinned.

“I learned that cocaine and alcohol don’t mix,” Leonora confessed. “I prefer to be in control.”

“I found out the same thing before my father beat the shit out of me, and even then I just got rebellious, until...”

“Your mom,” Leonora finished.

“Watching her get murdered and having to murder someone I felt like a father to me definitely woke me up.”

“Holy shit,” Leonora thought.

“Wow,” said the mulatto.

“It’s best not to speak of it,” he insisted.

“Understood,” the mulatto said.

“Then why tell us?” Leonora asked.

“Because I have to? It’s like letting a little steam out so I don’t explode. It helps with my nightmares. But not only is there no proof of it, there’d be consequence.”

“Like I said, I understand,” said the mulatto.

“Me too,” Leonora agreed. “You’ve let off this steam before?”

“In similar situations with similar women. I guess I get lonely in a crowd at the end of the night. My mistress doesn’t know and neither does my wife.”

“You’re married?” Leonora asked.

“A family arrangement, sort of a merger. She got dual citizenship but mostly remains in Columbia raising my kids. Both daughters, unfortunately, but we’re hoping for a son this time.”

“She’s pregnant?”

“Just. When we determine the sex, we’ll make sure he’s born here.”

“Keeping the legacy going.”

“Yes.”

“Will your wife and kids join you?”

“I guess I’ll have to give up this house and settle down,” he said sadly.

“I thought these parties make you feel lonely,” Leonora asked.

“But I do like variety. You two should go. You’ll find your gift packages by the entrance, including extra for joining me in my bed.”

“Thank you,” both escorts said.

“Sleep well,” Leonora added which made him chuckle.

On a table by the entrance they found two festive party bags with a thick envelope filled with cash, a coupon to a fancy spa, a small expensive bottle of cologne, a jewelry box with 1 carat diamond stud earrings and a small green bottle of, what Leonora figured, must be cocaine. She handed her bottle to the mulatto who thanked her. Outside, Leonora’s black Tesla sat alone on the large concrete driveway.

“Need a ride?” Leonora asked.

“Looks like I do,” the mulatto agreed.

“I’m Leonora by the way.”

“Marie after Marie Laveau.”

“Your folks into voodoo?”

“My mom. I don’t have a dad. Third generation whore.”

“Your home? Or you can stay with us.”

“Us?”

“I’m traveling with a writer and actor. He’s a good man. We got a suite, so there’s room.”

“I should text my girlfriend so she doesn’t worry.”

“Girlfriend?”

“The blonde we were with,” Marie answered while tapping out a message. “Name’s Heather. We’re like a matched pair, do a lesbian act, Coffee Olay and Sugar Sweet. We met when a couple conventioneers ordered us, both drunk off their ass, couldn’t get it up so we did each other for their entertainment. She was visiting and I was just starting out, underage even, but my mom got me a fake ID. I decided I’d had enough of my mom and toured with her. We decided to settle here in Miami.”

“Always a matched pair?”

“Not at first, but we got enough regulars, widowers or couples needing inspiration. A lot of old rich folks in this town. And we do parties like this one.” She pulled out one of the bottles of cocaine.

“I wish you wouldn’t do that,” Leonora warned her.

“Just a bump? I was kind of hoping to get high there.”

“I could drive you home, though I’d hoped you could give us a tour of this town.”

“You’d pay me?”

Leonora sighed. “As a tour guide, probably not what you usually get.”

“You mind that much about me snorting?”

“I guess I do.”

“How come?”

“Bad experiences. I binged after ... never mind, but it changed me. Threw me off my game. Like I said, I like to be in control and I wasn’t. And there was a coked out client. That didn’t go well. Bad experiences and bad memories too, from even being around the stuff.”

“But it could have gotten coked out at the party?”

“I’m glad it didn’t but it was a pretty big payday and an opportunity for future clients. At least the person who booked the gig told me there might be.”

“You knew who might be there?”

“I’m more of a serial mistress than an escort. I work out of Washington DC so my clients...”

“Like senators or some shit?”

“Something like that, but they depend on my discretion.”

“Of course. So this gig...”

“My agent if you will knew I’d be in town with Harry and set it up.”

“And Harry doesn’t mind that you...”

“Fuck for a living? We’re pretty transparent with each other, or at least as much as I’m able to be. We like each other and he’s understanding. We’re friends, and we don’t even have sex all that often because...”

“You fuck for a living.”

“Yep. But he is very good at it.”

“I only fuck men because of work.”

“Like I said, it’s a suite and there’s a spare bed. You’d have your own room.”

“I was kind of looking forward to a bump. I suppose I could drop some of it home for my roommate.”

“Except she’d have gotten some too.”

“True. I’m debating whether to have a snort or take a couple days away from Heather. We’re kind of around each other all the time because we work together. We probably could both use a break.”

“Any dates scheduled?”

“Nope. Parties have a tendency to tucker us out, and we take off the weekend if it’s like a Friday like this was.”

“So then?”

“Okay. I’ll avoid the coke and hang out with you.”

“Great!”

The sky had begun to lighten when they left the party house, and by the time they arrived at the hotel, the sun had made its appearance over the Atlantic coloring sparse high clouds. The suite faced west, towards Biscayne Bay, so they had a last glance of it driving there. Honestly, as pretty as it was, it bothered Leonora’s tired eyes.

Harry remained asleep in the larger bedroom, the door closed. Leonora wished Marie goodnight and entered the room, stripping off her tight, unnecessarily sexy dress and donned one of Harry’s t shirts and joined him.

“Hey,” he murmured.

“Go back to sleep,” she told him.

“Okay.”

She soon joined him.

When he woke up, he barely remembered her arrival, but enough to realize it had been very late. Getting out of bed, despite being careful, woke her.

“Hey,” she said.

“You should sleep,” he said.

“I know, but you should know we have a guest. Her name’s Marie. If she is awake for some reason and seems coked out, please awake me.”

“I will,” he promised.

“Thanks.”

The suite was quiet, so he did his ablutions and then dressed in sweats and a t shirt and retrieved his laptop quietly from the bedroom, bringing it into the common room of the suite. He made coffee in the automatic coffee maker and ate a bran muffin he’d bought the evening before when he bought snacks and worked on the second episode of the PI series.

A couple hours later a beautiful mulatto woman poked her head out of the smaller bedroom.

“Uhm, hi,” she said.

“You must be Marie. I’m Harry.”

“Uhm, hi Harry. You think I could borrow something to wear.”

“I think I still have a t-shirt left,” he chuckled. “Hold on.”

“Okay.”

He slipped back into his room and grabbed a t shirt, thankfully not disturbing Leonora. He brought it to Marie who grabbed it and shut the door, only to open it moments later. “Excuse me.” She rushed through the common room to the bathroom.

He thought she looked like Leonora’s type, slim and lithe. His type too, at least the Melly version.

He got back to work.

When she emerged several minutes later, the t-shirt reaching mid thigh, he asked. “Coffee? I have muffins as well.”

“Thanks.”

The suite had individual coffee containers and he set one up for her. She settled onto the same couch as him, taking the opposite side. “Go ahead and grab a muffin,” he told her, the bag on the coffee table.

“Thanks. Leonora said you were a writer.”

“I am.”

“Is that what you’re working on?”

“A screenplay or a teleplay I guess for a series I’m hoping to sell. But I’m on a book tour for my first novel if you want to read something of mine.”

“Sure.”

He brought her the coffee first, the fancy hotel having single use containers of half-and-half instead of dried whitener, so he placed the bowl with them and packets of sugar and sugar substitute and stir straws beside the cup before getting a copy of his novel.

“It’s about whores,” she noticed.

“About a boy who grows up in a whorehouse mostly. I actually got accounts of the goings on in the bordello, journals I found.”

“So it’s true?”

“More based on, since I definitely embellished. You can have that if you want.”

“Thanks.”

She read and Harry wrote for about an hour before Leonora finally woke up. She walked through the common room to the bathroom naked. “You both have seen it all,” she murmured.

Both viewers chuckled.

After her ablutions, she put on a hotel robe and made herself coffee. Once done, she set it on the coffee table and plopped down between Harry and Marie. Grabbing the last muffin, she asked, “You been good, Marie?”

“I haven’t done any,” Marie pouted.

“Sorry, but I figured it’d be a temptation.”

“It is,” Marie confessed. “I even thought about doing some, but realized I just wanted to sleep. So what’s the plan?”

“You show us Miami?”

“I mostly know the night life.”

“Maybe interesting neighborhoods or restaurants only the locals know?”

“I could do that, but I got nothing to wear.”

“Give me your size and I’ll go downstairs to the boutique here and get you a dress.”

“I don’t get to choose it?”

“You don’t trust my taste?”

“Okay. Maybe sandals too?”

“Sure.”

Leonora finished her muffin and coffee, dressed and left the suite. Harry and Marie continued writing and reading.

An hour later, Marie wore a maroon halter dress of a light cotton fabric, with French cut red panties beneath, also bought by Leonora, while Leonora put on a sky blue sundress. Neither wore bras. Harry went with khaki board shorts and an untucked, buttoned, short sleeve baby blue shirt. Everyone wore sandals.

Marie guided Leonora to a colorful if poor Cuban neighborhood where they ate at a very modest but delicious Cuban restaurant. They then went the opposite way to where posh houses and mansions had been built before returning to the hotel, changing into swimming outfits, Leonora buying Marie a sexy light brown bikini, giving almost a nude effect in its color, covering at least some of her ass and tits, Leonora equally sexy in a one piece that showed cleavage, in fact the entirety of the inner side of her tits, and hinted at cleavage of her ass as well, a deep blue color. Harry’s trunks weren’t all that different from his board shorts, only more colorful. The hotel let them use their beach towel to lie on and smaller towels to dry off after swimming.

Harry enjoyed the view of other skimpily clad women, even more skimpy than his ladies, some with asses on full display and with only nipples pretty much covered, but the two ladies he came with took most of his attention. Slathering on skin protecting cream added to his enjoyment, both giving and getting. Getting teased by Leonora helped, her reaching into the bottom of his trunks and grabbing his half hard dick, perhaps getting back at his sneaking a hand under her suit to caress nipples and slipping a finger between buttocks to slide across her slit.

When they played in the surf, Harry and Leonora came together for hugs and rubs of genitals, and when Leonora beckoned Marie over, the two did the same before Leonora handed off Marie to Harry. Marie talked to Harry above the noise of the surf. “I’m not much into guys, but I find Leo incredibly sexy.”

“Me too,” said Harry, which made Marie laugh.

After the swim, they dried, Harry somewhat on display with his half erection, but wasn’t shy about it, and they headed back to the hotel.

The ladies showered together and came out of the bathroom with towels held between tits, but Leonora handed hers off to Harry with a giggle. While they headed into the bedroom, Harry showered. He put on a robe and knocked at the bedroom door. “Come join us,” he heard Leonora say.

Both women lay naked on the bed, Marie nibbling on Leonora’s ear before moving to her neck and then her tits. Harry enjoyed watching Marie’s lithe backside. When the mocha skinned woman’s mouth reached the brunette beauty’s pussy, she shifted between Leonora’s spread legs, almost teasing Harry with her taut ass lifting up and waving. “Okay if I draw you?” Harry asked.