Manhattan Miracle

by Dawning, Dee

  I bristled with questions, so after the waiter took our order, I started in, "If I were to retain your services for a period of time or the night, where would we go to…"

  She snickered. "Do it?"

  I nodded. "Ah-huh. Where would we go?"

  She took a sip of the wine. "Mmm, this wine is out of this world." Facing me, she explained, "Out of town dates usually have a room. Local dates get a hotel room."

  I took a sip. It was good. "Couldn't we go to my place or yours?"

  She shook her head. "No. I don't know you and nothing personal, but I wouldn't want you to know where I live."

  "So, I need to get a hotel room."

  I loved her angelic smile. "That would be best."

  "Okay, the next question is a bit personal. Is that all right?"

  She flicked her wrist. "Go ahead. I'll either answer or I won't."

  "Fair enough. How did you get into the…?"

  "Business of entertaining men?" she prompted me.

  "Ah-huh."

  She broke a roll in half and buttered it. "I started during my second year of college. Have you checked on the cost of college lately? Trying to keep up with the bills, rent, tuition and books, I worked two jobs. Juggling work and going to classes was next to impossible, but I managed, until the economy collapsed."

  "What happened?"

  She sighed. "My world collapsed with it. One employer laid me off and the other cut my hours in half. I was sinking fast and had to do something drastic, so I signed up with an escort service that one of the girls recommended. They screened and provided the dates and were very good at making sure I was safe.

  "After my first date, I threw up. I didn't like what I did, but what choice did I have. I either do it or give up college. After several dates, when money wasn't a problem any more, I really thought about what I did to earn it and it didn't seem that bad. I was living a glamorous life and men literally fawned over me." She paused and smiled at me. "I've even had Johns propose."

  I laughed. "I'll bet. What made you decide to continue after you finished college?"

  We paused when the waiter served our salads.

  Ginger picked up her fork and dug in. "Who said I did?"

  I started to respond, but she waved me off and continued, "After graduating at the head of my class, with a degree in business administration from Columbia, I depleted half the money I'd saved, while spending six months looking for that elusive job. Finally, Amber and I got together and went back in the trade."

  "So you've stopped looking for work?"

  She squirmed a little at my question and took a sip of wine before answering, "Pretty much. The way the economy is, everyone has cut back and hunkered down. If I could find a decent job, like the one you seem to have, I'd consider it. I'd really like the chance to prove myself in the business world, but I don't know…"

  Pushing my salad bowl to the side, I leaned forward. "What? What don't you know?"

  "I might miss the life. Once I got past the shock of selling my body, and accepted what I was doing, it became like a game that I started to thoroughly enjoy. The thrill of wondering who will I pick to be my lover that night and the pleasure of getting paid handsomely for doing something I like—having sex. Then there are the intangibles, like dressing tasteful and seductive to go out. Having men look at me with lust in their eyes—being desired."

  Her short, low cut, white satin sheath with leather and gold chained belt and high heeled open toed sandals were certainly tastefully seductive. "Heck, I could get into that. Tell me, do you have orgasms?"

  "Oh yes, my libido's very strong and I almost always have at least one orgasm."

  I laughed. "What a job! High pay and orgasms aplenty!"

  She laughed. "It's not all peaches and cream. While I can usually avoid a man with hygiene issues, I can't always avoid one that plays rough."

  The waiter set the entrées before us, and left.

  Ginger took a deep breath. "Smells delicious. I'm famished."

  "Before we start to eat I have one last question."

  She gazed at me with beautiful, cornflower blue eyes, waiting.

  "I want you for the whole night, so would it be all right if we go to the hotel from here?"

  Whether she meant it or not, she said, "I'm looking forward to it."

  "Great. Which hotel do you suggest?"

  "Hmm, that could be a problem with the big entrepreneurial convention here this week. I imagine Lower Manhattan is booked solid." The heat that she generated when she laid her long-fingered, feminine hand across mine, shot straight to my dick. "Don't take this wrong, but it's too bad you're not from out of town. We may not be able to get a room."

  I was crushed. "What're we going to do, then?"

  She flashed a reassuring smile. "There's a hotel I like not far from here, near where I live. After we eat, I'll see if I can get us a room there."

  I breathed a sigh of relief. "That would be great."

  ~ * * ~

  Once we began to eat, the conversation dropped off to the occasional 'could you pass the salt' or 'mmm, this is delicious'. Too my surprise, I found myself gazing at my date more often than usual. The more I looked at him, the more I found Brad Fairchild charming and devilishly sexy.

  After dinner while we enjoyed coffee and shared a delicious crème brûlée, I called the Hudson Court Hotel and handed my phone to Brad.

  "Ah yes, I need a room, for tonight."

  "That's all you have?"

  "All right, we'll take it."

  "Just a minute."

  I studied Brad as he dug out his wallet and read off his credit card information. I enjoyed his company and felt at ease with him. I smiled. Being with him seemed almost as if I were on a real date.

  But it wasn't a date. It was a business proposition. In thirty minutes or less, I would take his money, take off my clothes and we would fuck. In the morning after doing the most intimate thing a man and woman could do, we would part and most likely never see each other again.

  Out of the blue, I felt melancholy. No John had ever made me feel cheap. No John had ever made me feel regretful. No John had ever made me think the things that were buzzing around in my mind. What if I'd never become a whore? What if I'd managed to find a real job? What if Brad and I hooked up and instead of fucking…we made love?

  Made love? Do I even remember how to make love? Did I ever know?

  "All set."

  I snapped out of my reverie, and glanced at him. "They had a room?"

  There was mirth in his eyes and a huge smile on his lips. "Yes, one." He signed the restaurant's credit card receipt and rose. "Are you ready?"

  Dutifully, I rose.

  Brad's eyes flashed a look of desire. As he edged closer to me, his lemony masculine scent wafted into my nose. He smelled as good as he looked. He grasped my upper arms and leaned in. My breasts, pushing into and rubbing against his firm chest felt delicious. As did his hardness pressing into my abdomen and mound. He peppered moist kisses up my shoulders and neck, sending shivers the length of my arms and neck.

  Finally, his soft, yielding lips tentatively, gently touched mine.

  His tongue laved the crease between my lips. Then without going further he said, "I hope you don't mind. I've been dying to taste your luscious lips all night."

  Feeling a passion I hadn't felt in years one of my hands clawed through his mane while the other wrapped around him, pulling him even closer, pulling his cock even harder into my softness. I crushed my lips against his and forced my tongue past his crème brûlée flavored lips. My tongue barged into his mouth swirling and sweeping everything as if I could pass my fever through a heated kiss, while my demanding sex pushed itself into his compelling erection

  As my heart beat a rapid tattoo against my ribs, sensibly my future bed partner pulled away and smiled. "Save that passion for the honeymoon suite we have."

  It took a second to soak in, then I laughed. "Honeymoon suite?"

  He shrugged. "It's all the
y had. Besides the only thing better than spending the night with a beautiful girl like you, is fantasizing she's my wife."

  All of a sudden, I felt giddy. "Honeymoon suite with a heart-shaped bed and whirlpool tub?"

  He shrugged again and stuck his hands out to the side. "I don't know. We'll have to go there and see."

  I picked my purse off the table and looped my arm through his. "I have a feeling this could be fun. Let's go."

  ~ * * ~

  "So Carpenter, what do you think of my project?"

  "He's interesting. She is too."

  "Yes, she's another project of mine. I had no idea they would meet up tonight. Ginger has so much potential and she's wasting it as a plaything for men."

  "I can see that. Beauty and brains. Together, they make a lovely couple."

  "They do, don't they?"

  "Yes, maybe they could make each other happy because what they do for a living doesn't seem to."

  "I know he's not, but she seems to like what she's doing."

  Carpenter fidgeted. "She likes aspects of it, but from what she said, I think she'd truly be happy if she could be challenged—if she could prove herself in business. I think Ginger would be happier if she did what Brad does."

  Soriano cupped her chin. "Hmm, and he'd be happier doing what she does."

  "I don't know if he would be happy being a prostitute. He seems to be more intrigued with the idea of being a glamorous woman and all the trappings."

  "Well there's nothing we can do about that. Carpenter, I have another problem I must look into. Would you keep an eye on our unlikely couple?"

  "Sure Boss, whatever you say. Will you be long?"

  "Maybe. Don't panic if I am. I won't forget you."

  She stood at attention and saluted. "Yes ma'am."

  Soriano frowned and shook her head. "You're not in the service anymore Carpenter. Angels do not salute each other."

  "Sorry ma'am."

  Soriano started to walk away then tuned back to her new helper. "One more thing, Carpenter."

  "Yes ma'am."

  "When they start to do what they're planning to do. Give them some privacy."

  "Yes ma'am. I intend to."

  Soriano smiled. "You're a good angel, Suzy."

  "Thank you ma'am."

  Chapter Three

  The sun barely peeked through the blackout drapes when I woke. I sat up. Ginger had been right. Last night had great fun. In fact it had been arguably the best sex of my life. Ooh, the things I did to that beautiful blonde bombshell. Ooh yeah, and the things she had perpetrated on me. How could this dazzling girl with the appearance of an angel be so naughty and wicked in bed?

  Ginger had cost me dearly, but I would've paid double or even triple for what had to be the greatest night of my life. What made it doubly fun was that Ginger, that gorgeous slab of woman flesh seemed to have a fabulous time too.

  I draped my legs over the edge of the bed and stretched. I had to pee something fierce, so I padded into the restroom. Naked from the glorious night of frolicking, I lifted the toilet seat and reached for dickie. Hmm. I frowned. What the f… There's nothing there. I mean no dick, no pubes, nothing.

  I felt around down there a little more and suddenly jumped as if a bolt of lightning struck me. No, it was more like a bolt of pleasure—pure, joyous pleasure. I touched something that felt… I reached down again and rubbed it. God that feels good, but… "Where's dickie?"

  I spun around. I'd spoke, but the voice I heard was Ginger's. I stomped to the vanity, hit the light switch and glared into the mirror. I wasn't there—Ginger was. I couldn't believe my eyes. I blinked, but Ginger was still there, albeit, with a worried look on her beautiful face and I who stood right in front of the mirror was nowhere to be seen. "What the f…" I said, but she moved her mouth and again it was her voice. I raised my hand to, touch the mirror and felt it, but it was Ginger who raised her hand in the mirror. Suddenly, I realized, "EEK, I'm Her!"

  I am Ginger? This was damned crazy. I'd become Ginger. I began to shake. My heart raced and I couldn't catch my breath. Christ, what's going on? Was Ginger a witch? A body snatcher? A she-devil?

  I ran into the bedroom and flipped on the light. Ginger was in bed, with the covers pulled over her head. I pulled the cover down and was eye to eye with…Brad Fairchild—me!

  "What's the matter?" The fake me said, in my missing masculine voice. Suddenly, her eyes rounded and grew to the size of silver dollars. She pointed at me and exclaimed, "You're me!" Then she pulled her hand back and examined the hair on the back of it and her lack of pointed, colored nails.

  "And you're me!" I shouted, "What the fuck is going on?"

  He/she moved a hand around his face. "I really am…you. How did this happen?"

  I held my hands out to the side. "I wish I knew."

  He/she hopped out of bed and looked in the mirrored wardrobe door. "This is unbelievable. He/she started pacing. "Let's not panic. There has to be some logical explanation for this."

  "I'm listening."

  "Maybe it's some freak accident. You got me pretty hot and I know you were hot too."

  I waited for her, I mean me, to continue.

  When she didn't, I asked, "Yeah. What're you saying?"

  "I wish I knew. Maybe we got so passionate we entered each other's bodies."

  "That part about switching bodies is a given, but it doesn't seem possible it happened while we got it on. It happened while we were asleep, not when we were in the throes of passion." I backed off. "At least I think it happened while we were sleeping."

  "This is so bizarre." His eyes expanded! He grabbed hold of his/her/my dick. Look, can you believe it? I have a penis."

  "I know—my penis, and I have a vagina—your vagina. Maybe this is a temporary phenomenon."

  "That would be nice." Seeming to overcome her incredulity and accepting that we'd switched bodies, she postulated, "But not too quickly. If you think about it, in a perverse way this is kind of neat. It could be fun."

  My eyes became slits. "In what way?"

  "Well for starters, I have ah…your you know what. I always wondered what it felt like to be able to pee standing up and since I have to pee, I'm going to find out."

  I followed her into the bathroom, but instead of proceeding to the toilet she paused at the mirror and ran my/her fingers all over my face. "This is weird all right. I'm actually you." She turned and edged up to the toilet. "You want to watch?"

  "No, thank you, been there, done that."

  I didn't watch, but I heard the stream hitting the pool of water in the toilet bowl. I also heard her, "This is so cool. They ought to invent an extension for women so they could go standing up."

  "Yeah, right. I can just see them patenting a universal urinator for women. Aren't you worried about what happened to us and what we're going to do about it?"

  Acting like the girl, he really was, he tilted his head, wagged a finger at me and in his deep voice, said, "Of course I am. What do you think we should do about it? Or more realistically, what do you think we can do about it?"

  I shrugged. "Damned if I know. We don't even know how this happened. What do you think?"

  Brad came over and wrapped an arm around me. "I asked you first." He/she looked at himself in the mirror again and shook his head. "You know what?"

  "What?"

  "Men are so crazy about blow jobs, I've always wondered why."

  "Yeah, so?"

  He/she grinned mischievously and turned so his/her/my hard male instrument rubbed along my hip. "So, I have a dick now."

  "I know, my dick."

  He/she raised a solo eyebrow. "Possession is nine-tenths of the law. C'mon, let's get back in bed. There're some things I want to try."

  I shook my head adamantly. "No you don't. I'm no, you know."

  He/she chuckled. "I'd hate to guess, how many dicks have been in your mouth."

  I sneered. "Well, I wasn't in possession of your mouth when that happened."

  "Okay. Yo
u don't know what you're missing." He/she laughed.

  "What's so funny?"

  "You. It isn't everybody that gets a chance to suck their own dick."

  I laughed. "Good point."

  His/her eyes narrowed. "Say, weren't you supposed to have a big meeting with some bigwig today?"

  I felt the color leave my face. "Oh, my God! Mr. Grimes. Shit, I forgot all about him. What time is it?" I ran into the bedroom and stared at the alarm clock. "Phew, it's only seven. My meeting isn't for seven more hours." Then I realized I couldn't do it because I was no longer Brad Fairchild. "I can't go like this."

  Brad/Ginger stepped up to me. "If you prepare me, I could take your place."

  My mouth fell open as I turned to look at him/her. "You would do that for me?"

  "Sure. Metaphorically you and I are tied at the hip, like Siamese twins." He wiggled his/her bushy eyebrows. "But first you could suck my brand new dick because I really want to see what it feels like—to see why it's such a big deal."

  "After the meeting with your boss, we could go to my place, or yours and I could dine on your brand new vagina, then we could both find out what intercourse feels like to the other sex. Wouldn't that be fun?"

  It would be fun. I stared at his dick, her dick, my dick. What choice do I have? I grabbed his/her hand and pulled him/her toward the bed. "All right I'll give it a try, but I'm not promising anything."

  ~ * * ~

  Ginger/Brad stared at me. "Well, what'd you think?

  "That was flat-out amazing."

  "Good. I really wasn't sure what to do, so I copied what you did last night."

  I reflected on the experience. Except for-you know, where I shot out ejaculate, the orgasmic experience was about the same as when I came as a woman. If there was a difference, it may have been that I felt in charge instead of subservient. It's no wonder men want sex so much. It makes them feel special, maybe even superior—machismo. "I can see now why men love to have their members sucked."

  The former me, being the good little courtesan, pulled away, retrieved a towel from the bathroom and wiped the mess from herself. When she returned, I ran my fingers through her beautiful long blonde hair while she cleaned off the excess material on and around our dick. Soon, it was good as new, though damp and softly swollen. "Did you like it?"