Dial a Stud: Dante's Story

by J. a Melville

  Dial

  A Stud

  Book One

  (Dante)

  By J.A Melville

  Acknowledgements

  I have so many people I need to thank for having faith in me despite me being plagued with insecurities at times.

  To the lady who first asked me to start writing I thank my friend who is like my sister, Andrea. I thank Lorraine for always having faith in my abilities as a writer, even when I doubted myself. I can’t forget Sharon too for her encouragement and for providing me with things to laugh about when I was taking it all too seriously.

  I want to thank Danielle, Debbie, Karen, Mary and Katherine who read my books long before publishing and who keep me on the straight and narrow. To my wonderful friend and PR ladies Tracy and Jess, the ladies from Sweet N Sassy Book A Holics and SNS Authors who have had to endure my endless questions given my painfully inadequate computer skills, I give a heartfelt thank you.

  I also want to give a special thank you to Tasha; who has been incredibly supportive.

  To the ladies from Controlled who provide hours of distractions for me and who keep me entertained when I’m supposed to be writing I say thank you.

  I give special thanks to one of my closest friends, Rachael who puts up with my constant Facebook messages. Not only is she there every day despite us living at opposite ends of the planet, she happens to be a very talented author.

  Thank you to all the ladies who have been there since book one; you help me far more than you will ever probably realise.

  Thank you too, to the new friends and wonderful bloggers I’ve met recently, who have kindly taken it upon themselves to promote me.

  I have to give thanks to another lady, a very special lady who is determined to make it so more people know of me and who very kindly took the time to make my website for me. I can’t thank you enough Lori.

  Then of course, I want to thank my partner Roger and our three children, Bianca, Jesse and Reilly who have had to suffer through hastily constructed meals, a less than tidy home, my vague behaviour and me seemingly always having my head buried in my laptop. I'm sure they have found me frustrating on more than one occasion and I've no doubt they got sick of talking to the top of my head.

  An extra special big thank you to my daughter Bianca who designed the cover for this book since she knows her mother is technologically challenged.

  I can't write this without thanking all my English teachers from back in my school days many moons ago who always told me I should consider a career in writing when I grew up. Well, it might have taken me awhile, but I finally did as you all suggested, thank you. All of those people who have been there throughout my short writing career and never let me give up, I say THANK YOU.

  About the Author

  From my teenage years, all I wanted to do was become a writer one day. Even now as an adult woman with a partner and three children who are not so little anymore, I've always lived with my head in the clouds, a dreamer, often amusing myself with my own imagination.

  It might have taken me awhile to finally live my dream, but I did it. I hope to one day be good enough to stand beside the many talented writers out there who have kept me entertained with their wonderful stories over the years.

  I live in a sleepy country town in Tasmania, Australia with my partner and three children plus our 4 cats, dog and cattle.

  I've had to overcome many emotional obstacles along the way to get to this point and attempting to self publish a book does tend to make a person feel like they've thrown themselves in at the deep end of the pool. Here's hoping some of you actually like what I write and save me from drowning in the deep end as I probably forgot to mention, I can't swim.

  J. A Melville.

  © Copyright J. A Melville. 1st edition March, 2015

  Do the right thing, don’t download pirated books. Authors deserve to get paid for their hard work as much as anyone else.

  No parts of this book can be copied unless permission is given by the author for quotes to be used for reviews etc.

  This book is fiction. The characters are fiction. Any resemblance to persons living or dead are purely coincidental.

  This book is the work of the writer's imagination.

  Cover photo used under license from Shutterstock.com.

  Cover image designed for the author by Bianca Eberle.

  Chapter One

  “I swear Mel, if I have to endure another man, who thinks sex is all about mounting up, and pounding away, like he’s a bloody pile driver, I’m changing my sexual orientation.” I moaned as I took another sip of my glass of wine.

  My flatmate, and best friend Mel, turned her baby blue eyes on me, and grinned. “You sure do know how to pick them Gracie girl. Still, for me, the best one of all was Bryan. Was it Bryan? That was his name wasn’t it? You have to admit, he was smooth.”

  I snorted, and sprayed wine over myself. “Yeah, he was a charmer alright. I guess after some reflection, I should have guessed, that when he asked if I wanted to fuck, that, that was probably as good as it was going to get. Still, call me optimistic. I thought there would be a little foreplay first. I didn’t realise, that when he asked if I wanted to fuck, that he meant getting straight into it. Then to add insult to injury, as he’s pounding away sounding like an out of breath Bulldog, he asked if it was good for me too.” I rolled my eyes. “Maybe if he’d taken the time, to find my clitoris, at some point during our lengthy three minute encounter, I might have had a shot at coming.”

  Mel grinned again. “You know, we should go somewhere. We’re a pair of sad saps, sitting here drinking wine, and reminiscing about our history of lousy lays. Saturday night and we’re home. Girls of our age should be out, painting the town red, or some shit at least.”

  “I don’t want to go to the club. I’ll drink too much, let myself get picked up by someone who looks like a stud, but who fucks like a lump of clay, and have to sneak from his home, in the dead of night, or kick him out of my bed, and finish off with the aid of B.O.B.” I said.

  “Well what do you want to do?” Mel tipped her head back, and swallowed the last of her glass of wine.

  “We could go and see a movie?” I suggested, raising a questioning eyebrow at my best friend.

  “I suppose that would be ok for a change. Let me grab the paper, so I can see what’s on.” Mel jumped up, and disappeared from the room.

  I flopped back on the lounge, drained the last of my wine, placing the empty glass on the coffee table. If we were going out, I didn’t need any more. I had a very pleasant buzz going on now as it was.

  Melanie burst back into the living room, with her usual boisterous enthusiasm. There was no such thing, as quiet and subdued with Mel.

  She held up the paper, shaking it at me. “I found it.” She announced, as if she’d just discovered the cure for Aids. She dropped down on the corner of the coffee table, and began to thumb her way through it.

  “So what’s on?” I asked, starting to feel slightly sleepy, now the wine I’d been drinking, had settled in my stomach.

  Without lifting her head, she told me to stop being so impatient, as she flipped through a few more pages, as noisily as she could, and finally fell silent, reading for a while.

  “Well?” I tried again.

  Mel started laughing. “Oh my god Grace.” Her eyes lifted from whatever she was reading, and met mine over the paper. “You’ll never guess what I just found.”

  “Well I’m guessing, it’s not the list of what’s on at the cinema, that’s got you looking like you just won the lottery? Well, unless they’re bringing us the Fifty Shades of Grey movie, earlier than February that is?”

  Pale blonde brows d
rew together over her blue eyes. “Don’t be stupid. If it was that, I wouldn’t be sitting here now, wanting you to guess what I’m reading. I’d be running to the cinema, to get a good seat, and you know I don’t run for anything.”

  “Now that is true.” I grinned. “Even for a good looking man, I haven’t seen you so much as speed up, to a powerwalk.”

  Melanie laughed. “My mother always told me, a lady doesn’t run. She should never exert herself, in any way that might result, in her perspiring.” She threw her head up, nose in the air. “A woman perspires. Did you know that? We don’t sweat. That’s too common apparently. It would also be considered very inappropriate, to chase a man.” She rolled her eyes at me. “Now you can see why I had to move out of home? I would have ended up like her, if I’d stayed.”

  “You might make a shitty daughter, but you make a great friend and housemate.” I told her and she leaned forward so we could hug briefly. When she sat upright again, I gave her an expectant look. “So are you ever going to tell me what it is, that you read in the paper that got you, so excited?”

  Mel’s eyes lit up, as she turned the paper towards me. “Check this out? This might be just what you need.”

  My eyes dropped to the newspaper, and scanned it to see what it was, that had my friend so excited. At first all I saw were advertisements for weight loss, hair replacement therapy, and erectile dysfunction. Then I saw it, I saw what Melanie wanted me to see.

  It was an ad. Fairly obscure in appearance, almost hidden amongst the larger, flashier looking ads. Curious, I leaned in for a closer look, and slowly began to read it, out aloud.

  “Is your love life lacking lustre?”

  “Are you stuck in a cycle of dead end relationships?”

  “Has the spark gone out of your sex life?”

  “Would you like to make your fantasies a reality?”

  “Set your own sex scene.”

  “We can cater to all your needs.”

  “M/F, F/F, M/M, M/F/F, M/M/F”

  “Why don’t you give us a call?”

  “Dial a Stud Services Inc.”

  I raised my eyes from the ad, and met Mel’s blue ones. “Are they joking? Is this for real?”

  She shrugged. “I don’t know but the scary thing is; it’s like that ad is directed at us. Well more you than me, because let’s face it, your sex life is shittier than mine.”

  I poked my tongue out at her. “Oh shut up Mel. Yours isn’t much better, and you know it. When was the last time, a man, any man got you off?”

  “For your information, Sam was pretty good. He was the last one. We might have had something come of it, if he didn’t land that job overseas.”

  “Maybe so.” My attention returned to the ad. “So what do you reckon this Dial a Stud is? It can’t be real, surely? What do they mean; set your own sex scene? They seem to be implying, they can cater to anyone’s sexual orientation.”

  “I don’t know Gracie, but imagine if it’s legitimate. A team of men and women ready to serve us. Oh the possibilities. Just think; you could live out that fantasy of yours you once told me about.”

  I nodded. “Well there is that I suppose. I don’t know why I want to experience two men. If it’s no good, it’s double the disappointment. Not to mention, I hate the thought of anal sex, but something, about seeing those short videos on line, of two men doing the one woman, gets me all hot and bothered.”

  “Why don’t you give them a call?”

  I shook my head. “I can’t call them Mel. It would be too embarrassing. I’m not sure I could face up to that level of intimacy with two strangers.”

  Mel laughed. “You do it all the time. You don’t know any of those men you fuck with, when you get picked up at the club.”

  “Thanks for making me sound like a slut.” I said dryly. “A, I don’t do it all the time. We don’t go out all that often, for me to be picking up strange men, and B, I’m usually drunk or not far off it, when I go home with these men, or bring them home with me. The alcohol dulls things enough so I don’t care. I’d be too embarrassed to face being double plugged sober. Plus I’m not your typical size 8 girl, Mel. I need the man to have been drinking too, so he’ll look past or just no longer give a shit, that I’m a fuller bodied gal. Something tells me these ‘studs’ won’t be half tanked by the time they come to fulfil someone’s fantasies.”

  “Fucking hell Gracie, will you stop putting yourself down. You’re beautiful, and you have the kind of figure, that a lot of women would envy you for. Have you ever really looked at yourself? Men want to fuck you because they think you’re beautiful, and sexy, not because they’re drunk, and can’t focus enough, to see you anymore.”

  “You’re my best friend, you’re supposed to tell me how wonderful I am, what a genius I am, and how I’m like a siren drawing men, to me with my beauty and intelligence.”

  Mel snorted. “Get your ass off the lounge woman and come with me.” She jumped up, taking my hand, and dragging me up with her. Knowing what she intended doing, made me reluctant to follow her, and I dragged my heels in an attempt to stall the inevitable.

  She didn’t release me until we reached my bedroom, and I had been roughly pushed, into position before the full length mirror, mounted on one of the doors of my built in cupboard.

  “Now look.” My chin was gripped firmly as I was forced to look at myself. Trouble was, with Mel’s fingers digging into my chin, they had pulled my bottom lip, into some ridiculously grotesque twist, so if she was trying to prove I was this gorgeous creature she spoke of; it was a fail.

  “So thwat ars u twying thu pwoove?” I tried to ask, but I only ended up speaking some sort of intelligible gibberish.

  “What?” Mel’s facial expression nearly made me burst out laughing. Well I would have if she’d have released me, but if she didn’t let go of my chin soon, I was more than likely going to start dribbling over her hand.

  I tugged at her hand, and finally she seemed to get the message and released me. “Now look at yourself Grace. Have a close look at yourself and see what all the rest of us see.”

  Shaking my head at her, I finally turned to look at my image in the mirror. I studied the woman staring back at me, and still couldn’t figure out, what Mel thought was so good. Ok, I wasn’t a complete shocker. I knew that much, but compared to her very petite frame, I was considerably taller and heavier.

  Standing five foot nine inches, I had the classic hourglass figure, all hips and boobs. In my opinion, my legs were my best feature, long and with nice shapely calves.

  My hair was a rich chestnut brown, that fell to just below my shoulders in soft waves. Unlike Mel, I didn’t have eyes that were an outstanding colour, they were simply brown or hazel as some would say.

  I was lucky to have fully pouty looking lips though, and I’d also been blessed with good skin. I didn’t have any freckles and I’d never really had an issue with acne, even as a kid.

  I knew, overall, I wasn’t too bad, but part of my insecurities came from my childhood. I’d been overweight and kids can be mean. I’d been given horrible names and the trouble is, shit like that sticks. It was all the cruel names that had led to that time of my life I tried not to think about. Although I’d slimmed down once I got passed puberty, with a combination of diet and exercise, I still thought like an overweight person, with all the self-esteem issues that come with it.

  “Well? You’re awfully quiet Gracie girl.” Mel’s voice brought me back, from my troubled childhood, and I smiled at her.

  “You’ve made your point. I get it. I’m not Frankenstein’s daughter, I get that. I just…I just…” I trailed off and I felt her arms come around me.

  “I know Grace. I remember what it was like for you. Those kids were asses, and I bet they’re nothing more, than loser asses now. You’re beautiful, smart and funny. Now, are we going to stand here all night, and be a couple of sad saps together? We’re twenty four year old women, and twenty four year old women shouldn’t be home, on a Saturda
y night. So, is it to be the club, cinema or will you call, and get yourself, a stud or two?” She began to dance around the room singing. “Who you gonna call? Dial a Stud.”

  I rolled my eyes. “That’s terrible, and you can’t sing. Don’t give up your day job.” I told her. “I’m not calling Dial a Stud. I can’t do that.” I sighed. “Fuck it. Let’s go and get ourselves plastered.”

  “There’s a man at the bar, who hasn’t taken his eyes off you.” Mel shouted in my ear, as we danced to the loud music.

  I rolled my eyes at her, to indicate I didn’t care, but I still found my attention drawn, towards the bar, as I searched for someone, who might appear to be looking our way.

  “Are you sure he’s not looking at you Mel?” I yelled in her ear. “That dress looks amazing on you.” It did too. The blood red dress hugged her slim body to perfection. Her bob cut blonde hair, was stuck to her neck and brow, from exerting herself dancing, and her heavily made up face, glistened with perspiration. Even flushed from dancing, she still looked sexy, and those vivid blue eyes of hers, stood out brightly, against her long mascara darkened lashes, and black eyeliner.

  Despite her assurances that I looked good, I still felt frumpy in comparison to her. After trying on nearly every item of clothing I owned, I’d finally settled on a corset dress. The fabric had a shiny appearance and was purple, but the entire dress had a black lace overlay, and the straps that zigzagged their way up the back, were also in black. It was strapless, fitted very firmly over my breasts and waist, before flaring out in an uneven hem. The front was short, finishing about mid-thigh, but the back of the skirt was down, almost to my ankles. I wore black high heel shoes and my hair was twisted up in a messy bun, with strands of hair hanging down that framed my face.

  “Shit, shit, don’t look now, he’s coming over.” Mel’s excited voice was enough to make my heart start pounding.