Park Avenue Courtesan
Matilda Martel
Contents
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Epilogue
Epilogue
Follow Me
Also by Matilda Martel
Prologue
Allegra
I am a courtesan. No doubt it’s strange to hear someone admit to such an antiquated profession, but there is no better way to describe it. First and foremost, I am not ashamed of what I do. I don’t sleep around with countless men and in truth, I have probably slept with fewer men than most 23-year-old women living in Manhattan. This wasn’t the life I wanted or expected, but I make do with the hand I was dealt.
Do not mistake me for a prostitute or mistress, I am neither. A prostitute sells her body for a predetermined amount of time and money. My service is more than sex, my service is my talent and time. Moreover, I don’t peddle my goods to any man who pays my fee. I don’t have a fee, it’s so much more complicated than that.
I have three lovers who have access to me two days a week and then I have one day to myself. On those days, I am theirs and theirs alone. Most of the time, we have sex, but sometimes we just enjoy each other’s company. I am not their mistress. For these men, a mistress is dangerous. A mistress falls in love and might want to become a wife. I will not. This is my job and I do not mix business with affairs of the heart.
In exchange for my very gratifying services, I have an apartment in my name in Carnegie Hill, in the Upper East Side of the city. They pay for a housekeeper and a cook, supply me with a weekly allowance, a lingerie and clothing allowance, a car service, health insurance and extra money set aside to be invested in a retirement account. I don’t mess around, literally or figuratively. I am contractually bound to only have sexual relations with the three men who pay for my lifestyle. I live a life of leisure and in return I make them extraordinarily happy. I am a courtesan. That’s my job.
Chapter 1
Allegra
“Come back to bed.” The insatiable Russian in my bed wags his eyebrows and lifts the covers, showing me the incredible erection that awaits my return.
“No, sir. You always do this. Felix is coming by during his lunch hour. I have three hours to get ready.” Stretching my back by the window, I take a few more sips of tea, and then pull my hair up.
“Fuck, Felix. He needs to go home to his wife.” Boris follows me into the shower, his enormous hard-on bounces as he walks, helplessly drawing my eyes to it.
“I see you, zaika. My eyes are up here. You know you want it and as always, I want to give it to you.”
“I do not. I’ve had enough of it.” I squirm away as he pulls me into his arms, stabbing the small of my back with his cock.
“Make it go down already.” I tease but look down at it adoringly. He’s so big. After almost a year together, I still sigh and smile every time I look at it.
“You’re wet and naked. There’s no way it’s going down. Get over here and take your punishment.” Lifting me with ease, he holds me against the shower wall and slides his giant shaft into me. The quick invasion sends shivers down my spine as I wrap my legs around his muscular back and let him fuck me to his heart’s content. It is impossible to say no to him.
“Oh God, Boris, slow down!” I close my legs high on his back, curl my toes and screech as the delicious friction hurls me towards my first orgasm.
“I can’t work like this.” Afraid he’ll come too soon, he carries our wet, dripping bodies back to bed and tosses my trembling body on the mattress.
“You always do this, you come too fast and make me crazy.” Crawling up to join me, he rams his face between my thighs, zeroes in on my hard clit and makes me squeal with delight.
“I can’t help it! Oh God, please, don’t stop!” Lifting my legs into the air, the tension builds then explodes, sending shockwaves from my breasts down into my toes.
“Come in my mouth. Keep coming, let me taste you one more time.” Tossing my knees over his shoulders, he feathers my clit with his tongue, forcing my pussy to clench on the fingers stuffed inside me.
Out of my mind in ecstasy, I jerk my hips into his mouth, tugging his auburn hair as a white-hot climax rips through me and my body writhes in a shocking display of blissful triumph. Panting hysterically and clawing ineffectually at the sheets, I watch him rise and lather the head of his huge cock in my drenched lips, strumming my clit to make me jump and whimper in appreciation of what’s to come.
Moving forward to cover my body, he claims my lips in a soft, tantalizing kiss that makes me whimper in anticipation. Drawing me out as he rubs his cock against my clit, he wants me to beg for it, beg to have him put it inside me.
“Hurry, please. We don’t have much time.” I spread my thighs even more, hoping he’ll give me what I crave.
Pushing it in slowly, he pulls his cock out again, torturing me over and over. “Tell me how much you want it, like a good girl.”
“Please, Borya. You know I need it. I’ll go crazy without it.” I pull him to me and press my lips to his.
“More than the others?” His bright blue eyes turn dark as he watches my reaction.
I nod. It’s too painful to say it out loud. He knows I prefer him. I don’t have to say it. Saying it makes this feel like we’re making love and I can’t allow us to cross into that realm, no matter how much he pushes me. He stares at me a few moments longer before plunging his entire length, in what I suspect is a fit of jealous rage. Struck by the sharp blow, I pull his hair in retaliation and sink my teeth in his shoulder.
“Do you want me to stop?” He contritely whispers, while he continues to thrust deep, making me shriek as he pulls out and drives back in.
“Yes…wait, don’t.” I wind my legs around his back and feel my hips begin to grind down, relishing every inch.
“Allegra, I can’t take it. I can’t share you anymore.” As he increases his pace, I take pleasure in his monstrous invasion, begging for more.
Smiling, I squeak out a few words through my panting. “You said you wouldn’t get attached.” This is the part I always welcome. My chance to torture him.
“I was wrong.”
“No complications.” I pant and moan, wildly.
“Stop that! I was wrong. You’re mine. You know you are.” He grits his teeth as he crushes his lips to mine.
Everything from the look in his eyes to the smell of his skin, to the feel of his cock inside me makes me want to give in to whatever he wants, but I push that thought out of my head. I don’t love him. This isn’t love. I’m seconds from putting him in his place when the surge of another climax forces his cock out of me.
“Oh, Jesus!”
Refusing to give up his place, he drives back inside and extends it until he is groaning and moaning with me.
“I feel you coming. Do you want my cum, baby? Say it, Allegra. Tell me you want it.” He pushes my knees high and plunges deep.
“Yes! Yes! Fuck, yes. I want it. I love the way your cock fills my pussy with cum. I want to feel it inside me all day.” I can’t stop singing his praises as I thrash about in an endless string of ecstatic convulsions, losing all sense of dignity. How pathetic.
“You make me so crazy, zaika. I need you. I can’t live without you.” Moments later, I feel him swell and jerk before he fills me with a blast of warm cum. As always, he is magnificent. I think I might hate him, but he’s magnificent.
Despite his attempts at delaying, I need to shower and prepare. For the second week in a row
, he has eaten up my only day off and if Felix or Linus find out, they’ll expect me to make exceptions for them. I’ve allowed him to blur the lines of professionalism only because I enjoy his company, but things are getting incredibly dangerous for me. His jealousy is getting out of hand and as much as I want to convince myself I have a heart of stone, there are a few cracks in it, most of them made by Boris Igorevich Malakhov. He’s the only one of the three who is not married and the only one who can stay the night. It’s starting to feel less and less like I have three lovers and more like I am cheating on my one boyfriend with the others. I need to get a grip on my reality. This is my job. There is still another month left on this year’s contracts and Maude thinks I can negotiate a shorter second term to close my condo for good.
“I’m going to be late on Thursday, Allegra.” His blue eyes watch me through the mirror as he fastens his tie. When I don’t answer, he continues. “Anya has opening-night tickets to the ballet, and she’s been trying to convince me to give it another go.
For a split second, my heart aches before I force it to grow numb again. I know what he’s doing. He’s trying to make me jealous and it isn’t going to work. Turning away, I deliberately pull out some skimpy lingerie, something he’s never seen me wear and lay it on the bed. Nodding and smiling, swallowing my hypocritical torment, I sigh and wave him off. “That sounds nice, have fun.”
He grimaces. Perhaps, I’ve denied him the chance to inflict a small amount of the pain he is feeling. Stammering in reply, he glances at me, his eyes cast downward and nods. “But...I’ll be here before midnight.”
I shake my head decisively. “Boris, you should have a nice weekend with her. Besides, you owe me two days. I haven’t had a day off in weeks.”
Frowning in confusion, he follows me into my closet. “What does that mean? Are you telling me to wait until Saturday?”
I narrow my eyes in frustration. “Saturday? No! I am taking the whole weekend off. As soon as Linus leaves on Thursday night, I’m heading out of town. Maybe, I’ll go to Virginia to see my parents. I don’t know yet, but I will see you the following week.”
“Allegra! Today is Monday. The following Friday is almost two weeks from now. No. No fucking way. You’re doing this on purpose.” He fumes.
“No, I’m not. I think it’s good that you’re going out.” I stare at him coldly, choking on my broken heart. “But I need a few days to myself. I’m not a robot. I get pulled in 3 different directions all week and thanks to you, I haven’t had one day off to regenerate.”
“I can’t go two weeks without seeing you. That’s too long. I don’t need to go to the fucking ballet. I’ll be here Friday morning.” He’s about to leave when I call out to him.
“Boris, give me some time off. This is good for you, too.”
“No. It’s not good for me. Don't tell me what’s good for me. I’ll see you, Friday.” He storms out, angrier than I’ve ever seen him.
Chapter 2
Boris
This isn’t the life I wanted or expected, but some things were out of my control. My father fell into this crowd when he was still in Leningrad, St. Petersburg now. They helped him escape and then bring my mother over a year later. Times were different and it was harder to get out. He felt he owed them everything, including his son. Growing up, I thought I would find a way out. I studied and stayed out of trouble when everyone else my age made their way into gangs. When the Pakhan, or godfather, my father’s closest friend, encouraged me to keep my nose in my books, I thought I would be allowed to make my own way, but they had other plans.
He put me through college and law school, NYU then Columbia, because he wanted to create his very own mob lawyer entrenched from the inside and above all suspicion. Technically, I have no official role. That’s how I keep my hands clean. I report to Ivan Sokolov, the new Pakhan and besides cleaning up his messes, I am forced to spy on the lower ranks to make sure everyone stays loyal. As much as I want something that resembles a normal life—maybe a family--I always feared dragging someone else into my world. That was before I met Allegra. Now, things are different.
We met through a woman named Maude Whittaker. I know her through her son, Arthur, a buddy of mine from law school. He works in Boston and as a courtesy, I’ve helped him handle some work for his mother. I took it because I’d heard some rumors and I had to find out for myself. Maude is a big fish on the New York Social Registry but runs a side business that helps her maintain the lifestyle consistent with her family name. Nothing is technically illegal, which makes my job easy and the business relationship was a win-win for us. I need legitimate clients and she wouldn’t dream of using a typical Fifth Avenue firm for a job this unpleasant. After working on a few background checks and contracts, I decided to give it a go for myself. A real relationship with a girlfriend or mistress had far too many complications. I’m not the type to call an escort and have sex with different women a few nights a week, but a kept woman who provided companionship and sex without expectations was right up my alley.
I waited for months for the right person to come along. This is an expensive relationship and I wanted what I wanted. It had to be worth it. After a string of platinum blondes and a couple of redheads, Allegra came along. Everything about her was perfect. Her background, education, her photo, it was all too good to be true. Magna cum laude from Columbia, speaks five languages, one being Russian which she taught herself when she was a national chess champion and wanted to learn how to speak to the Russian players. I had to meet her first, before anyone else had a chance to keep her to themselves. Because who wouldn’t want sole rights to someone so perfect?
Until we met, I’d never been a jealous person. I didn’t entirely understand the emotion. Possessiveness and crazy jealousy were for the hotheads I grew up with---those who couldn’t see how illogical it was to consider another human being as their property. And then I realized, I’m a fucking idiot who had never been in love. But I felt it then and more than anything, I feel it now. Staring into her gorgeous hazel eyes that day, salivating over her full lips as she spoke, I fantasized about slipping her out of that short white dress and running my hands over every inch of her sun-kissed skin. I must have looked like a teenager, staring longingly at the curve of her breasts and the tiny bit of cleavage poking out from the top, anxious to see more. All I wanted to do was throw her over my shoulder and take her somewhere no one would ever find her. I didn’t want anyone else to touch her. I didn’t want anyone else to look at her. Then two days later, we made love or maybe we had sex. I don’t know, it felt like love to me. She was so vulnerable in my arms--- I should have protected her. I should have told her how badly I wanted to be with her, but I didn’t.
For some fucked up reason, I let her meet with Felix, and he didn’t need to sleep with her to know he wanted her to himself. He called me later that afternoon to try to buy me out. When I refused, he moved heaven and earth to keep Linus from her but was thwarted when Linus signed on without needing to meet her. So, you see, I’m the only idiot who had the chance to have her to myself and ruined it. And for that sin, I spend most of the week in utter agony thinking about what she’s doing with them. But I can’t take this much longer. She can’t renew their contracts. No more contracts. It just needs to be us from now on. I know she loves me, she’s just too stubborn and vindictive to admit it.
Chapter 3
Allegra
Sometimes, I think I’ll go mad. Not every day, just some days. If I fulfill two-year contracts with all three, each to be renewed and renegotiated annually, I get to keep everything I own. If I fail, I lose my apartment and investment accounts that will keep me while I look for something respectable. This isn’t what I wanted, of course, but I tell myself that I can handle it. I don’t mind this life, for now, but it doesn’t come natural for me. Before Boris, the first contract I signed, I’d only slept with my college sweetheart. He’s one of the reasons I’m doing this now. It’s a long, boring story involving our apartment, his n
ew girlfriend and my inability to find a decent job after college graduation.
After graduating with honors from Columbia, and an exhaustive six-month job hunt, all I could find was a poorly paid sales job at an upscale boutique. It didn’t cover all my bills, but it helped pay my portion of the rent at the dinky apartment I shared with the boy I thought I would marry. I thought things were going fine, until one day everything went to shit fast. A day after I lost my job without much explanation, he dumped me for a girl he met at work. When I met Maude van Buren Whittaker, I was crashing on a friend’s couch.
I should have been horrified by this job description, but I was intrigued and desperate. Heartbroken over Russell, my ex, I didn’t want to leave the city. A part of me wanted to get back at him by staying and thriving, but I needed time to see it through. After that first meeting with Maude, she and I went back to her brownstone and reviewed a pile of applications from men who’d been holding out for just the right candidate. Some had been waiting months, and some over a year. She didn’t work with just anyone, on either side, and after a long discussion, about the pros and cons, I didn’t feel I had a choice. There were options, I know. I could have packed up my life and taken the train back to Arlington, but I couldn’t face my parents as a failure. And I couldn’t let Russell win. If I went home, while he stayed in New York at the Soho apartment that I found, with his new girlfriend and I went back to Virginia, then he beat me. In hindsight, it was childish, but I’m 23-years-old and I don’t pretend to always do the right thing.
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