Chapter 2

"Change please, change please."

The singsong voice pleaded but, without the conviction you might expect from someone, truly desperate. Robert had seen the same guy in his regular spot in Charing Cross Underground for as long as her had been commuting to London. The street beggar never seemed to alter and didn't look particularly needy. His clothes were of a good standard, hair combed and short and certainly, he wasn't mal-nourished.

He passed the sitting man, thinking that he can't even be bothered with the "Spare" from the usual phrase "Spare change please" associated with street begging in the town.

It was Monday and Robert was trying to recoup from the heavy weekend. His night with the Accountant had taken a huge chunk out of his energy reserves. The drive to Eastbourne, where his parents lived, had been slow with holiday traffic and then, after a late finish to the party, Lucy had attacked his body like a desperate animal, starving and frenetic in her need.

As was often the case, they argued on the way back. Robert couldn't understand why, after a session where Lucy climaxed, she would launch into him as if guilt drove her to denial. It was as if she was punishing herself for enjoying sex and, in her self flagellation, punished those around her. Privately, Robert thought she had a hang up that needed the services of a shrink. This was possibly one of the main reasons that both of them couldn't commit to any real future with each other.

Robert had dropped her at home, a perfunctory kiss on his cheek as she opened the car door and then, she was gone, with no goodbye or backward glance as if she was shutting out the last few hours, cutting it out of her memory.

He had a message on the answer phone, but it was only his mother saying thank you for coming and the present. He slept for four hours before showering and catching the tube to UCL where he had a lecture on modern influence and sudden rise in popularity of classical music.

Dinner that night was a hastily cooked scrambled eggs and toast, washed down with a glass of beer, warm from sitting on the window sill in the sunshine. Robert caught up with some of his studying and reviewed his dissertation, avoiding the urge to dump it in the recycle bin.

His evening was rescued by the trill of the phone.

"Hello."

"Hi is that Michael?" Robert reached for his pad.

"Yes, Michael speaking, how can I help you?"

"Hi, my name's Rachel, I need an escort for this weekend and wondered if you were free. I saw your advert in the local newspaper. Is that your real picture?"

"Hi Rachel, yep that's me. The weekend is free at the moment. What did you have in mind?"

"Oh! It's just a party, but is meant to be his and hers. The 'hers' is not a problem, but the 'his' might be. So, as a last resort, I hoped you could be my escort for the evening."

Robert took her details, discussed his fee of two hundred pounds for a six hour stint. The party was in Essex, they agreed to take a cab from her address. Dress was to be smart casual.

Saturday evening found him outside her flat in an East London Suburb. He had opted for a pair of stone coloured chinos, a Paul Smith shirt and a tan blazer that hadn't seen the light of day for quite some time. Brown deck shoes completed the ensemble. He felt comfortably dressed and quite ready for the evening's entertainments.

Rachel, when she answered the door to his press on the bell push, was nothing like her voice might have suggested. On the telephone, her voice, in its lightness, suggested someone on the diminutive side. Rachel was anything but diminutive. Although not obese, Rachel was heavily built. She stood in her Jeans and a multicoloured blouse at around five feet nine with broad shoulders and a heavy set body supported on thick legs that filled the jeans.

Her smile though, was quite charming and went with her chatty personality very well. She had made her face using just hints of colour over her eyes and a light blush to her cheeks. Robert liked the way her short brown hair had been cut into her neck, shaped like a wedge, he noticed the subtle highlights of red.

"Ready?" She asked him breezily as she checked the door and carefully placed her keys into a side pocket of the leather purse.

The cab had been waiting at the curb. Rachel gave the driver her invitation card with the address on it. Co-ordinates pressed into his sat-nav, they set off to what turned out to be a converted barn in Chalfont Saint Peter in rural Essex. Robert paid the driver and secured his services for the return journey later in the evening.

Her tickets were checked at the door by two very large men in black suits and black ties that looked like they might be strangling the muscle bound guys. Robert thought the suits might have had to be sprayed on.

The next three hours passed much too slowly. The music wasn't to Robert's taste, he had never really developed a liking for sixties pop. Rachel had pretty much dumped him by the bar and melted into the crowded dance floor. He caught the occasional glimpse of her dancing with other women and once or twice and also with a guy who looked like he might be a Rugby prop forward, but moved with a grace that belied his bulk.

The scotch had been watered down or was such a cheap variety that all the taste and content had been left behind somewhere. He chatted to a couple of people who wanted his space at the bar so they could recharge glasses, but nothing interesting and really, only fragmentary, voices struggling to overcome the loudness of the music.

At last, Rachel found him propping up the bar looking quite bored and more than ready to go home. She had a girl by the wrist and was dragging her behind, almost pulling the poor thing off of her feet.

"This is Sally." Rachel yelled in his ear. "She's coming home with us."

The cab was a little late for the return journey. While they waited in the coolness of the dark night, Rachel and Sally swapped tongues in a display of feminine lust and desperation to get inside each others clothing.

Rachel jumped head first, onto the back seat yanking the slight Sally behind her like a rag doll. Robert found that he had to take the single pull down seat so he was facing the two girls and would have his back to the driver.

Sally smiled and said hi then, even before the driver had engaged gear, turned in the seat, threw a leg over Rachel's knees and proceeded to French kiss her. Robert had a fleeting glance of white panties as her skirt opened. He watched the two girls as their tongues performed explorations and breathing became quite short. He felt quite spare and extra to use, even slightly voyeuristic as their passions increased.

Sally's fingers manipulated the buttons of Rachel's blouse, opening two or three before her hand slipped between the flaps to grasp a breast. Rachel's hands were equally busy, travelling the length of Sally's torso and pulling at her clothing as if it might come undone suddenly, as if held together with Velcro.

By the time they reached Sally's flat, the girls had become completely lost in each other. Although they had managed to retain some modestly by not actually exposing each others body parts, the show they had put on, for their own benefit, had been steamy enough to warrant the cab driver to study the rear view mirror.

Sally and Rachel tumbled out of the cab, giggling and fumbling, leaving Robert to pay off the driver.

"You got yer 'ands full there mate." He dryly observed. "'Ope you got the stamina."

"Somehow, I don't think I will be needed tonight." Robert accepted the proffered change and watched the cab draw away with the driver shaking his head.

Robert would have let it go at that point, but he had yet to be paid, so followed the noise of the two women, taking advantage of the doors left open.

He found Rachel in the kitchen fixing what looked like a treble shot of tequila and some strange pink juice. Sally was nowhere to be seen, but could be heard tittering in a close by room.

"Um, look, I'll leave you two to it then. But, I er ... well I haven't been paid yet Rachel."

She looked suitably mollified as she fished out an envelope from her bag on the counter top.

"Sorry about that Mike and thanks for looking after us. Wanna drink?"

"Its okay thanks, think I'll just head off."

"Oh please stay, Sally really wants to fuck you, she said so and ... well a threesome sounds quite nice doesn't it Sal?"

He hadn't heard Sally come up behind him. She reached around his waist and grasped his balls, playfully squeezing them as if to test their weight. He felt a momentary panic as he wondered just what it was he had landed in.

"Ain't nuffink like a nice 'ot cock while me girlfriend eats me." Sally let him go only to grasp his buttocks with both hands. "Nice tight arse you got their Mike, Rach, you have 'is pants down girl while I 'ave a good feel."

Rachel did as she was instructed, before Robert had time to do much else, she had his button undone and was yanking his Chino's and pants down around his ankles.

"Fucking hell Sal! You should see this mother!" Her eyes, now only a few inches away from his cock, looked almost saucer sized as she took his length in. With no more thought, she opened her mouth and sucked his head in.

Sally was also kneeling and had worked her way around from behind him to see what all the fuss was about. Most of his cock was in Rachel's mouth, but enough to give her an idea that he wasn't small in the penile department, was showing.

"Oh! He's shaved as well, we done it right this time Rach."

They shared the sucking duties, swapping him from mouth to mouth between kissing each other, rubbing exposed tongues as they poked out between their lips.

He had to call a halt after a few minutes, not wanting to unload all too soon, even into willing mouths.

The girls picked up their drinks and walked into the living room. I short order, they had divested themselves of clothing and had each snorted a line, something Robert had never wanted to get into, but allowed that some people enjoyed the recreational side of drugs.

He sipped a coke with ice in it while he watched the girls go at it. They kissed and explored, tongues darting as nimble fingers manipulated. Then Sally went down on Rachel, sucking her clit into her mouth while fingering her wetness. Soon one finger was joined by another, then another until she had managed to slip all four fingers into Rachel's body. It was only a matter of time and lubrication, until her whole hand, up to the wrist was disappearing. Rachel's head thrashed from side to side in obvious ecstasy, culminating in a loud squeal as she came with a gush of amber fluid.

The roles were reversed, but Sally, being somewhat smaller than Rachel, could only take three fingers of Rachel's hand. It didn't matter though, the result was the same, Sally reached her orgasm loudly, yelling, fit to bring the cops.

The evening finished with the two in a sixty nine position while Robert fucked Sally's arse, exactly as she had demanded. Rachel licked his spend off of Sally as it oozed from her crack. His function complete, Robert eventually extricated himself and found a cab home exhausted and a hundred pounds better off than he had expected to be.

Robert's next assignment found him in the clutches of an old woman after what had been a pleasant afternoon in Brighton, taking tea in a quaint little tea shop in the lanes. There was nothing he could do for her, even his libido had scruples and a woman, fast approaching octogenarianism, was a step too far for him. That she had money and seemed to be fascinated by his youth and virility didn't help. He let her down as gently as he could, not wanting to hurt her feelings, but realising that, once offered, there was no way to say no without crushing her. His mistake though, was lying when he said he wasn't feeling too well. She came back for another crack at him a few days later, stating her interest in him and that she thought she might be in love.

The money would have been handy, but Robert, even though he was up for hire to anyone with the money, just was so appalled that he was almost physically sick. She eventually took the hint after several phone calls that ended with her cursing him as she slammed the receiver down.

In fact, Robert's next few assignments and remainder of the month were best forgotten. It was as if his luck had completely deserted him. Each woman who called his advertised number, carried more than enough baggage or something else, equally unattractive. He began to think that it had all been beginners luck until Elizabeth called.

Elizabeth turned out to be married, had been for many years to a successful businessman who took little interest in her affairs. Elizabeth was what is popularly known as a "trophy wife", someone to show off to his rivals and colleagues alike. In her late twenties, she was stunningly beautiful, an ex model, well educated and articulate. Her dress sense unerringly flattered and highlighted her attributes. Robert felt a small flutter when they met to discuss terms.

She was to travel to Paris to take in a fashion show, a social event on her calendar. Although she wasn't in the industry any more, she liked to keep abreast of the trends and had many friends who still peddled their ankles on the catwalk.

He was to meet her at Waterloo Station, bring enough clothes for an extended weekend and make sure he had something presentable to wear. Elizabeth was quite precise about the arrangements and demonstrated an orderly mind that paid attention to detail. His ticket for the Euro-Star Train would arrive in the post the day before. If it did indeed arrive, it was his signal that the date was on, if it didn't, she would advance him something on account as a retainer in case his services were needed at some future date.

The rest of the week passed quite slowly, Robert's anticipation grew exponentially as the days ticked off until Saturday. Then, at last, the day arrived and found Robert waiting at the top of the stairs that led down to the Euro-Star platforms. The board showed destinations to Brussels, Lille and Paris. He had his ticket, standard class return to Paris tucked into the inside pocket of his blazer. He had chosen slacks, a linen shirt and the tan coloured jacket with deck shoes.