Chapter 15

The ride from 76th and Madison to 50st and 5th Avenue took only a few minutes because it was Saturday and there wasn't any traffic. As she walked into the elegant lobby of the Helmsley Palace she was sure that every person who glanced at her knew exactly why she was there. She imagined that every man was a house detective and would question her presence in a hotel where she wasn't a registered guest. She saw the house phones against a wall, walked to them and dialed 7 plus the room number.

"Hello," said a deep voice.

"Hi, this is Barbie, I'm in the lobby, is it okay to come up?" "It sure is. See you in a second, sweetheart." As she walked the few steps to the elevator, she hoped that she wouldn't fall down because her legs weren't obeying her commands, they had a life of their own. She wanted to stride purposefully and confidently to the elevator car that would lift her six floors above the lobby but her steps were tentative. She noticed that her hand was trembling as she pushed the button emblazoned with the number 7. When she exited the elevator she saw that 767 was to her left at the end of a long corridor. Why couldn't it be closer? She wondered. It seemed like the longest walk she had ever taken, then she was standing in front of a door with a brass plaque with the number 767 inscribed on its face.

She took a deep breath and softly knocked on the door.

When Bill Porter heard the soft rap he walked to the door and looked through the peep hole. What a beauty he thought. Even better than how the agency described her. She seemed nervous as she looked first to her right, then to her left. She was about to knock again when he opened the door.

"You've got to be Barbie. Come in, come in." After she stepped into the parlor of his suite, he slipped the "do not disturb" sign over the outside door knob, closed the door behind her and turned the dead bolt and hooked the chain. She guessed that William Porter must have been sixty years old. He was nearly bald and must have been carrying an extra fifty pounds on his six-foot frame. But his tailored clothes and the expensive corner suite reflected his ability to pay; not just for his attire and lodging but also for female companionship. It was a very awkward moment for her.

It seemed silly but she stuck out her hand for him to shake and said,

"yes, I'm Barbie, it's nice to meet you Mr. Porter." "What's this Mr. Porter nonsense. I'm Bill." He ignored her offered hand and took her in his arms and gave her a friendly hug. "Sit down, take a load off," he said as he pointed to a sofa in front of the fireplace.

As she sat down on the sofa and crossed her long legs he sat in a chair opposite her, not next to her on the couch as she expected. She noticed that her skirt had ridden more than halfway up her thigh and that the lace top of her stocking and a sliver of flesh was revealed to his eyes. "Bill, I'm sorry that I have to ask you but... well, are you a police officer?" He laughed. "No Barbie, I'm not a cop. I run a small company and fly into the big apple several times a year on buying trips. Can I get you something to drink?" "It's a little early for me but a soft drink would be fine, though." At least holding a glass would give her something to do with her hands rather than wringing them in her lap as she had been since she sat down.

He mixed a cocktail for himself and poured a coke over ice cubes in a glass for her. "Cheers, here's to us. May the next hour or so be enjoyable for each of us." He touched his glass to hers and then did sit down beside on the sofa.

His toast seemed kind of corny to her but sweet, nonetheless. "Shall we take care of business first? What did you have in mind, Bill?" She asked with a smile.

He got up, went into what she assumed was the bedroom and returned holding several bills in his hand. He handed her four one hundred dollar bills and said, "That's for starters. I want an hour that will make me want more. I'm not as young as I used to be and sometimes my mind and my body aren't in synch. Right now, I'd like to be with you all night in my mind but in an hour from now my cock might have other ideas." She took the four bills, folded them and slipped them into her purse from which she took out the cell phone. She pushed "1" and almost instantly heard, "Hi Barbie, this is Myrna." Obviously the agency had caller ID.

"Everything's fine here. We'll start with an hour and call you if we're going to extend." She didn't wait for an answer but pushed end, slipped the small phone back in her handbag, took out the package that Len had given her earlier and said, "Bill may I use your bathroom?" "Sure honey, use the one in the bedroom." She walked towards the bedroom, looked over her shoulder, smiled and said,"Why don't you get comfortable." Her legs had stopped shaking, she was feeling more confident and her body was becoming aroused. In the bathroom she took off her jacket and skirt, then she opened the package and took out two foil packets that contained the lubricated condoms. When she opened the door to the bedroom, she saw that it was softly illuminated by only a small lamp. Bill was laying on the bed naked and gently stroking his growing cock.

He was surprised at her beauty. She had let her hair down and stood in the doorway posing for him. Her nipples were already hard and he saw that she had no pubic hair. She walked to the bed, kicked off her shoes and joined him on the bed. He took her in his arms and brought his face to hers. He couldn't believe it, here was a working girl who kissed him back with fervor. In the past they almost always told him that they saved their kisses for their husbands or boyfriends. He had noticed the band of gold on the ring finger of her left hand and knew that she was married as were about half of the working girls he had been with in New York. Bill knew that his kisses were getting to her because she was writhing on the bed and her hands had begun to explore his body. First his broad shoulders, then his back, then between them touching his chest and down over his hairy belly until she touched his hard cock. If he wasn't mistaken, she actually moaned when her hand came in contact with his above average, but certainly not huge, penis.

She kissed his neck, his chest covered with grey hair and then a tiny swollen nipple. "Harder," he commanded. So she sucked the turgid, small nipple harder but that wasn't enough for him. "Harder," he commanded again. She lifted up and looked at him quizzically.

"Bite it," he said by way of explanation of his expectations. So, she took it between her teeth and applied a little more pressure.

"Harder," he said again. This was new, Gordon and the men at the club seemed content with gentle kisses and tongue baths to their nipples.

For her, when Gordon was too rough with her boobies, it hurt a little and she couldn't see a connection between the pleasure and pain. In fact the pain was a distraction. I didn't seem to be a distraction for Bill, however. As she bit harder she took the other nipple between her finger nails and pinched. The attention was having the right effect because his breathing became heavier and he pulled her head even more tightly to his chest. "Harder," he said again. She was afraid if she bit any harder she would break the skin. Maybe that was it, she thought, finding that point where the pain was barely tolerable but didn't quite eclipse the pleasure that he was receiving from her mouth and hand.