Chapter 1

He was not the type to pay for sex. He had never needed to. In fact, if anything, casual sex came easily for him. He had seen her ad while surfing around the internet, and had been intrigued. Her site had published professional quality photographs revealing an outstanding body. She was playmate material from the look of the photos, which had shown everything except her eyes. He found this alluring for reasons he couldn't explain.

She had a FAQ section, and predictably, it discussed her rates for a two hour session (her minimum length of time), gifts she enjoyed (but they weren't required), and her measurements. He noticed that although she was only 22, she wouldn't take a client who was less than 30 or over 55. He was 35, and easily able to afford an encounter with her. He found himself sending her an e-mail, using a fake name, of course. Had he been asked, he couldn't explain why he did it.

He refused to check that account for three more days. Part of him was excited by the prospect of meeting this beautiful woman; part of him was ashamed that he was interested at all. Eventually, he had to see if she had responded. She had.

She was asking for a photograph of him. He smiled inwardly. Apparently, she was picky when taking on new clients. They had to be someone she found attractive. He guessed that she was one of the best in her line of work if she could afford to be this selective. Her rates were certainly high enough. He decided on turnabout being fair play.

Three days later he sent her a digitized series of photographs. It had been expensive, but he had managed to get one of the best photographers in town. The photos highlighted every aspect of his well-toned body, except the eyes. He anticipated her reaction, and smiled.

It took a week for her to respond. She had found the photos interesting, she said. Now she wanted to know what he expected in a date with her. She told him to put in all the details. Then she would decide whether or not to take him as a client. He was enjoying this game developing between them. It took him a couple of days to decide, but he finally sent the following e-mail.

Christy,

You asked for details. Our date will commence upon your arrival at my Suite at the Hotel MacDonald. I have reserved the same suite that was designed for the Prince of Wales during his last visit. Our encounter deserves such opulent surroundings.

When you arrive at the hotel, ask the desk staff for my key. They have been instructed to give it only to a stunningly beautiful blonde. It is the key to the executive elevator, which stops only in the lobby to my suite. You will notice the inlaid marble floors, the classic statues and artwork that adorn the suite, however the lighting from the crystal chandelier will be subdued. A pair of French doors will be open, leading you to the reception area. At the entrance to the door will be an envelope with your fee in cash.

The grand piano is the highlight of this room, and even in low lighting, your eyes will be drawn to it. This room is as well appointed as the lobby, however, you can see several couches and chairs arranged with the piano as the focal point. I will be in one of these chairs. You will see me; however it will be difficult for you to see my face due to the subdued lighting. I will be dressed well.

I will ask you to dance for me. A touch of a button and the room will slowly fill with your choice of music. You will begin a slow, seductive strip tease lasting several minutes. In this way I will be able to savor your beauty slowly, and appreciate your body as a connoisseur appreciates a fine wine. Eventually, you will end up wearing nothing except a garter, black stockings, high heels, and your choice of underwear. As you move (and I expect you move well), you will notice yourself becoming more excited as you display yourself to me. I imagine most of your clients do not appreciate how much effort you put into your appearance. I assure you that I do.

As your dance comes to an end, you find yourself facing away from me. You will feel me move behind you, embracing you, allowing my hands to explore the curves and planes of your body. My kiss will fall hot on the gentle slope of your neck, increasing your arousal. You will explore with your hands behind you, and will feel mine. We will stay like this for a long while, discovering each other through touch, concentrating on the feel of each other's bodies.

Our embrace will end eventually, and you will turn to face me. Only then, will we finally look into each other's eyes. It is said that eyes are the mirror of the soul, and in mine you will see the desire you have inflamed. After a moment, I will kiss you deeply, ardently, but also patiently. Slowly, we will make our way to the bedroom.

Once there, I will gently remove your heels, and ease you onto the king-size bed. You will undress me slowly, exploring me as you like. Our bodies will know what our needs are, and we will flow together passionately from there, filling each other's wants and needs. Nothing will be rushed.

The following morning, we will share breakfast brought to the suite, and enjoy a quiet morning together. You may leave whenever you wish.

I look forward to hearing from you.

Samson

He waited another week for her response. He wondered if he would hear from her, but in his heart he knew the game between them was as much fun for her as it was for him. She was enjoying making him wait.

Finally he received an e-mail from her entitled "A true romantic." He clicked it open, it read:

Samson,

I liked your note. I will be happy to meet you at the Hotel MacDonald a week from Friday if possible. Will that work for you? I promise to wear the garter and stockings you asked for. Enclosed is an attachment I call "Don'ts for dating an escort". I send it to all my clients. I know you would never do anything in there, but I wanted to get the ground rules sorted out just the same :).

You seem like a true romantic. A rare commodity these days.

See you Friday,

Christy.

He couldn't stop smiling for the rest of the day.

Christy was still slightly unsettled as her flight touched down in Samson's hometown. She wouldn't normally have taken a new client as far away as this, but there was something... she wasn't sure. She had certainly enjoyed her flight (first class, paid for by Samson), and was pleasantly surprised to see a limousine driver waiting for her. She smiled slightly as the older man tried valiantly not to stare at her figure.

He took her to a huge stretch limo, a brand new twenty five foot Lincoln Towncar with windows tinted so dark, she could not see the inside. He held the door open for her, and ushered her in. The inside was so vast, Christy felt small being the only one in the back. Shortly after they pulled out of the airport parking lot, the driver asked if she noticed the gift Samson had left for her.

She looked down to see a small gift box resting beside the bar. There was a small card attached to it.

To Christy:

Please wear this tonight. I am sure you will enjoy it.

Samson

She opened up the box to find a small phial of perfume. There was no brand name anywhere, and the crystal bottle, while distinctive didn't ring any bells. She opened it and sniffed it gingerly. It was sweet and musky at the same time, and it reminded her faintly of sex. She decided she quite liked the scent, and put some on strategically. This almost caused the driver to move into oncoming traffic. She giggled gently as she raised the privacy screen.

Christy enjoyed the look of surprise on the face of the driver when he opened the door for her. The drive had taken almost an hour, and she stepped out with perfect hair and makeup, wearing a blue sequined cocktail dress that showed her flawless figure off to great advantage. The driver had to tap the doorman on the shoulder to remind him to open the door to the hotel.

She didn't even have to ask for Samson's room. As soon as she approached the desk, the concierge greeted her, gave her a small gold key, and led her to a small discreet area just off the main lobby. He said quietly, "He's waiting for you."

She thanked him, and reached into her small purse for a tip but he had already moved away. She shrugged, and the elevator doors opened.

The reception area was exactly as he described it. The chandelier in the lobby was at least seven feet across and beautiful. It glowed, softly illuminating the room beneath it in a warm but muted golden hue. She immediately found the envelope he had left her, but she did not open it. It felt quite heavy, and she was convinced that a man who would go to these lengths would not short her in any way. She admired the statuary for a moment, trying to heighten Samson's anticipation, then strode purposely through the French doors to the piano room.

Several bouquets of white roses were placed around the room, their beautiful scent helping to put Christy at ease. Smoky jazz drifted slowly through the air, coming from some unseen speakers. Unconsciously, she rolled her hips to the rhythm of the music as she gradually made her way to stand before him.

He was exactly where he said he'd be, in a chair positioned so his face was covered in shadow. Had he not told about this part of his fantasy earlier, this might have caused her some alarm, but something in her had told her to roll with it. Truthfully, his e-mail had aroused her quite a bit, and she looked forward to making his dream become real. As long as he didn't prove to be a sick pervert, she thought she could have quite a bit of fun this evening.

Christy was very good at her chosen profession, however, like most lines, it had become tedious. Her clients tended to be around fifty, lonely, and usually had very low self-esteem when it came to the bedroom. Normally, she was done the sex part of her job within twenty minutes. Samson had been different right from the very beginning. His pictures had shown that he was in very good physical shape (most of her clients were not). He said he was thirty five, and she believed him. His e-mail had shown confidence and concern she enjoy herself as well. This is what had tipped the scales in his favor.

He was dressed in a tuxedo, a designer original, featuring studs up the front of the shirt instead of a bow tie. He had left the top two studs open and she thought she could see thick, dark chest hair poking out. When he placed his drink carefully on the table she noticed his hands were strong, but carefully manicured as well. She didn't see a wedding ring or the telltale pale patch of skin where one would usually rest. Although it didn't normally matter to Christy, tonight it did.

She nodded a greeting, and though his face was in shadow, thought she saw him smile in return. His hand moved to a remote on the table beside his chair, and the jazz faded away to be replaced by the first song she had requested, Sade's "No Ordinary Love". Christy loved the sensuality in Sade's voice, and she carried that to her striptease. She started off showing very little, just moving in rhythm to the music. Samson had been right, Christy did move well, and she knew it. Years of dance class combined with a couple of years as an exotic dancer gave her knowledge of her body and how to display it to great effect.

Most of her clients wanted nothing but quick sex, with an eye on the clock. Samson had paid for the entire night, and even the next morning until noon (she charged an extra premium for overnight service, so high no one had ever paid it before). He had said clearly that he did not want to rush, so she took her time, enjoying his constant attention as she showed him her perfectly toned calves, with a few glimpses of her upper thigh. Although they were already bare, she displayed her sculpted shoulders, slender arms, and perfectly manicured hands to him, exhibiting them slowly and seductively under his gaze. He said nothing but his gaze never wavered.

Sade's voice faded out, and R. Kelly's Take My Time Tonight began. Christy slowly removed the straps from her cocktail dress, allowing them to slide slowly down her shoulders. She held the dress in front of her breasts and turned her back to Samson, gazing at him coquettishly over one shoulder. She held the dress in one hand, using the other to pull it up high on her thigh, displaying her perfect leg, framed by a four inch high stiletto heel, covered with a black sheer silk stocking held with a matching garter belt. She could almost feel Samson's gaze burning into her, and heard a quick intake of his breath. So, he's a leg man, she thought to herself, as she lowered the dress again, determined to tease him.

She raised her other leg, and rested it on a small table in front of him. She leaned forward on it, causing her dress to ride up almost to her hip. If he moved even slightly, he'd be able to get a direct view of her sex. True, she had panties on, but that never stopped men from straining their necks to see what was there. Samson never moved, however, only continued to stare. She realized with a start that he wasn't looking at her leg, but right at her face as she performed for him. It both annoyed and puzzled her.

She decided it was time to bring out the heavy ammunition. A simple shrug of her shoulders was alli ti took for the cocktail dress pooled around her feet, revealing a wispy black silk bra and matching panties. In normal light, they were transparent, but here in the low lighting Samson had selected, she realized that he could see the outline of her 44DD breasts, but none of the details. Christy was very proud of her breasts. They had been 36C's naturally, and she had paid big money to get them augmented by the best doctor. They were large, but she carried them well, and the surgery had been an unqualified success. They were firm without appearing too artificial, and the scarring was virtually invisible.

He didn't react in any visible way. No hoots or cheering (she had received both before), no more intake of breath, nothing. However, she saw Samson had an erection worth noticing. She felt a little twinge of relief that she was actually getting to him. She also realized her own arousal was beginning. Her sex was starting to moisten, and she noticed the extra lubrication as she moved around the floor. Dancing for his arousal was a definite turn on.

Craig David's Rendezvous came on, and Christy swung into high gear. She knew she was getting to Samson, this enigmatic shadow, and wanted -- needed to get a reaction from him. The flimsy bra disappeared as she pulled it off during a particularly difficult pirouette. She threw it to the side and dropped to her knees. She stared up at the shadow of his face as she crawled on her knees toward him. She knew from experience that she was irresistible when playing the stalking panther, and Samson was no exception. She heard him breathe in while she padded softly towards him, finally reaching his knee. She rose up and her breasts caressed both sides of his knees as her hands traveled up to his upper thigh. She could feel the tension in him, and realized just how strong this stranger actually was. She saw his hands were squeezing the arms of the chair, and she could now see the white of his straining knuckles.

Her own arousal was growing stronger. She could smell her own scent mix with the perfume as she became more excited. They blended perfectly, sending her emotions even higher. She felt the blood flowing to her privates, opening her labia even as she moved. She rose before him, giving him an up close view of the body she had spent countless hours sculpting to perfection, then turned and moved away. She made a point of walking like they do on the fashion runways, with each foot crossing the other one as she strode away. It highlighted her ass and caused her hips to wiggle, but she was getting so wet she was worried that she'd start to drip down her legs.

She heard the low rustle of fabric as he rose from his chair and swiftly crossed the room to embrace her from behind. His hands started at her waist, holding her firmly in place while he ground his erection into her behind. Slowly they moved up her torso until he firmly held her breasts in each hand. They were already sensitive, and Christy's nipples stiffened further in response to his stimulation.

After having no contact during her dance, Christy felt like she was going to overload. Sparks were shooting from where he massaged her heaving breasts in slow but strong circles. His hips were grinding his rock hard dick into her rear through his tuxedo pants, and she instinctively pushed back into him. The end result was his tuxedo restrained erection wedging itself firmly between her asscheeks. He rubbed himself along the length of her cleft, causing delicious friction.

She found herself moaning with need as his lips and tongue caressed the side of her neck. He traced the carotid artery with his tongue, and then moved to an intense kiss at the juncture of the neck and collarbone. It felt like liquid fire to Christy, and she imagined the women in vampire movies were supposed to react this way, as she arched her back, closed her eyes, and enjoyed the moment...

Her hands moved to the hold his head, urging him onward. "Don't stop", she moaned, aching with want, surprising herself. She ran her hands through his short thick dark hair. She could feel the stubble on his chin tickling her, arousing her even further.

For Christy sex had been fun, but always about manipulation. Ever since she was fifteen, she had been able to use sex to get what she wanted. She experimented and learned with her various partners, but in the end, Christy used sex as a weapon, and her body was her tool to achieve her goals. She could never remember being this aroused by anyone. Her body was a tool, alright, but in his hands. And he used it to send her to heights she had only glimpsed before. She shuddered, bit her lip and heard herself making a high pitched squeal as her orgasm began due to his oral stimulation. He felt her stiffen, felt her hands grip large handfuls of his hair and pull hard. She felt his lips curl into a smile as they moved to the other side of her neck. His pace did not change.

Her juices were flowing freely down both her legs, but she didn't care, she ground her ass into his fabric covered hardness with all the force she could muster, moving up and down as fast as she could and not risk falling. Her breath exploded from her in a large gasp, and the next wave of convulsions took her to another peak. It was quite a while before the convulsions subsided. Finally, however, she was able to regain enough of her senses to turn around and face the man who had made her orgasm almost without effort.