Chapter 5

This is, I thought to myself as I dialed, one of the strangest phone calls I have ever made in my life. What was even more bizarre was that the first strangest phone call I had ever made was only two months ago. And was related to this one, in fact, without that one this one would not be possible; I thought sardonically that I was breaking personal records right and left.

But how do I go about this thing, I started to wonder; Hang out in single bars? I couldn't do that. I didn't even like bars that much. I mean, my physical appearance is the issue. I'm a twenty four years old guy, I am in good shape. I kept myself pretty fit, and though I had a good muscular body, is my impression my face and head still draw too much attention which makes me very nervous and I feel uncomfortable in the presence of people who I do not know.

Besides, women put as much emphasis on men's good looks, or so I think. So, the bar scene was out. Then what? –do I approach a mature female, and say, "Hey, I want to jump in bed with you because I want to get experience with a mature woman before I die" I'm sure the slap would win me a word championship, if only it would just stop there and the police didn't lockup me in a mental institution and threw the key away

And then it hit me. I didn't want to get in trouble, I didn't want to risk an emotional development and then leave, but I wanted to feel a mature woman's body, feel what it's like to be made love and be educated in the nuisances of sex by a knowledgeable female. The only choice was, at first, distasteful, and then, like the evolution of my emotions about living with a scarred face, totally reasonable: A call girl.

With someone who does this professionally, several aspects of my search are eliminated: no hunting, no rejection, no embarrassment and disrespect of anyone I don't know, and no long games of persuasion. It was simple, I pay her, and she comes to me.

I was about to find out, and receive the biggest surprise of my life.

In one of my now infrequent landings I went to talk to my lawyer and stockbroker, now a friend, and we talked about my investments and other particular aspects of my life, my health and the proximity of my retirement and what was I going to do with my life from now on.

"Ok Pierce, now, I'm your friend, you know that, I 'm worried about you. After the accident your life has changed, and except the money part, you are almost rich, your life is in shambles. I think is a good time for you to look for a good girl and get married, or else" my lawyer said to me.

"Is that a legal advice?" said I trying to joke with the theme

"No Pierce, is a friend's advice, you need a woman in your life, someone who loves you"

"As if that were so easy; Ok, maybe to you it is, you're a brilliant and rich lawyer, and have lots of nice women at your snapping of fingers, but look at me, I'm deformed and I can't go asking women to date me"

"First let me tell you something: YOU ARE NOT DEFORMED, you are a little, very little different to the handsome boy you were, you think you are deformed, your face has only changed a bit, in fact you are more interesting, your aspect is manlier now than before"

"Yea, yea, right, and frogs fly"

"Let me think, maybe I have a solution, a transitory one mind you, but none the less it would do for now, until you get back your self-esteem."," Call me in a few days ok, I must make some calls and try to connect some important people"

A couple months later I called my lawyer and friend; he had a phone number and two names I should contact. It was time to found out if the tip I had received from my lawyer was true or it was a joke. I was making the second strangest phone call of my life, and it was being answered.

"Good evening, International Trade Company, Miss Forrest speaking, how can I help you?" The lady's voice sounded professional and calm.

I cleared my throat. Just be direct, I told myself. The worst think it can happen is they hang up on you. "Hi, I'm Pierce Bridgeport" I said pleasantly, as if I were about to order a gift basket for someone, "I was uh ... given your company name by my lawyer Dr Phillips and I was wondering if I could make use of the services of your company.

"Yes you can, in fact Dr Phillips has contacted us and mentioned your name as a potential customer of our services" she said, not sounding surprised at all.

"I just need a few personal data from you sir, like name, address, credit card number and a sponsor; in this case Dr Phillips recommendation is sufficient, and uh sir you will need a complete medical check-out including blood tests to prevent the possibility of spreading some disease, if there is any; our ladies are protected, the same as our clients are; ours is a very discreet and careful enterprise"

I smiled. They must be fairly popular in some social circles, I thought.

"Okay, that's fine. I'll fax you the medical tests" And I gave her the data she needed, Phillips had told me they checked very thoroughly every new prospective client.

"Now sir, when would you like the lady keep you company? I mean from two days on"

I presumed that these two days were needed to check that my identity would not create problems to the enterprise.

"What do you need from me; I mean where do we go from here?"

"Well, sir, first of all, is there any type of lady you are looking for? Specific physical things, race, size, hair color... ?"

I let out a little nervous laugh. "Well, yes I don't know if you can get what I'm specially looking for, I mean I'm assuming they are all pretty young and pretty attractive-"

"Yes, they all are that," she joined me in the little laugh, and I was much more comfortable now."What are you looking for specifically?

"Well, I just want someone who has umm ... experience. That won't feel uncomfortable with me, you know, she must be around forty years old, and blond, very blond with deep blue eyes..."

"Don't worry. I think I've got just the lady of your dreams. Her name is Rachel. She's forty-four, and very open-minded, and I'm pretty sure she's what you are looking for."

"Hum. Well fine, now umm ... how much is all this going to cost me?"

"There's a flat fee of $1.000 for her to come out, and that's for an hour and a half with her. That's just for being with her. You may go dancing, to dine, to walk, anything other than companionship you have to negotiate with her. Your activities and the time they take you'll discuss with Rachel, and if she requires more, then you work it out with her."

I was silent several seconds, and then the voice brought me out of my reverie:

"Are you there sir? Do you need time to think? Would you like to call another time?

"No, no, no I'm here, everything is all right. So may I hope to receive your call in a couple days to confirm the date of my ... err reunion with the lady?"

"Yes sir we will contact you, one way or another. Good evening"

"Good evening, I wait your call. Thank you"

Rachel. A shiver went through me, and I already was fascinated by this mystery "call lady". There would be more than an hour and half if I had anything to say. I wasn't a guy, who wanted to "get laid" I wanted a life experience,. I knew already this was a good decision.

Three days later I was called and asked what day would suit me. I told them and I paid the flat fee over the phone with my credit card, and supplied again my address, and directions. The woman assured me that Rachel would be arriving within an hour to an hour and a half. My apartment was in a condo a little ways out of the city, and it would take her a while to get here.

I walked through the living room and made sure it looked neat, and then I got into the shower. I had a light, dancing feeling in my groin. My fingers went to my sex and stroked gently, but I resisted the urge to masturbate. I wanted to save my sexual energy for what; I was sure, lie ahead.

I toweled off and went to my closet. What to wear? I laughed at myself. I haven't had the opportunity to dress formal many times, and never for the visit of a "call lady" coming to my home. I chose to keep it basic, Canadian shirt and Jeans, loafers with white socks. My apartment was simply decorated, Mexican tile, and wood. Ceiling fans with rattan blades, and big Afghan throw rugs. I wondered what Rachel, probably used to meeting men in hotels, would think of being here.

Very nervous while I waited, I looked at my reflection in the mirror, turned both ways. Not bad, not bad at all. Then I looked closely at my face and almost instantly, I regretted the phone call. A vision of a "prostitute"-that's what she was, wasn't it? pushed its way into my mind's eye like a burglar coming in a window. A saw this pretty, pouty, overly made up girl, eyes dulled by robotic sex, chewing gum and counting my money, going through the motions with me, because I was paying her, and asking me,