Club Fantasy

by Joan Elizabeth Lloyd

  She had tried to mention a rectal exam to him on the phone but he had been too embarrassed for her to consider saying anything about it. She had told him that he could refuse anything she wanted to do by just asking her to stop. Barring that, she’d use her radar to try to ascertain exactly what he wanted most. “Is that really necessary?” he asked. He sounded worried, but aroused, and she could see his cock twitch.

  “I certainly think so. We can’t be too careful.”

  Collin sighed, then said, “Okay. Anything you say.” She almost smiled.

  Jenna made a big show of putting on a pair of rubber gloves, and then took a tube of KY Jelly from the table behind her. She watched Collin’s eyes open wider as he watched her spread a big dollop of gel on her finger and a pool in her other palm. “Put your knees up and just relax,” she said, again, trying not to grin. After he placed his feet close to his buttocks she parted his cheeks and reached between them to thoroughly lubricate his anal area. She gently pressed her finger against the tight opening until it slipped inside. She pulled it out and pushed it in a few times, watching his entire body tremble and his eyes close.

  She knew enough about anatomy to be able to find his dome-shaped prostate and, with her slippery other hand, she grasped the base of his rock hard cock. “Take a few deep breaths,” she said, as she rubbed deep in his sensitive ass, holding his penis tightly enough to prevent ejaculation.

  When she thought he’d had enough, she rubbed his cock from base to tip, while still rubbing her other middle finger over his prostate. He came in a rush, grunting and saying, “Oh, God, Oh, God,” over and over again.

  Finally, when she sensed that he was completely exhausted she removed her gloves and said, “There’s a shower behind that door if you want one. I hope that lived up to your expectations.”

  “God, I didn’t last nearly as long as I had hoped but that’s not your fault. It was so real and so like my dreams. It was fabulous. What’s your first name so I can include it in my fantasies from now on.”

  “Hillary,” she said, smiling.

  “Can I ask for you again?”

  Ask for me? Again? She’d have thought that, at five hundred dollars, this experience was some kind of special occasion, a one-time thing. Trying not to sound too hopeful, she said, “Of course.”

  His smile was wide. “That’s great. Thanks for the best hand job I’ve ever had.”

  “You’re welcome. Make yourself comfortable for a while, but you know that your time here is limited to two hours.” She and Chloe had made that a condition. “The videotape will be here on the table for you on the way out.”

  “I’ll take a quick shower and be out of here in a jiffy. Thanks, again.”

  “I’ll look forward to next time,” she said as she closed the door behind her.

  As she tidied up the “exam room,” Jenna thought about her adventure. It had been delightful. She’d given a man something really first-rate that he’d obviously appreciated. She gazed at the bills lying on her dresser. Five hundred dollars. Cash. Amazingly enough, she didn’t feel at all demeaned. Of course she hadn’t had intercourse, either. She heard Collin singing in the shower, and smiled.

  “How was it?” Chloe asked when Jenna had changed into jeans and come downstairs after Collin’s departure. “If it was awful I promise not to suggest that you do it again.”

  “Actually, it wasn’t as awful as I thought it would be.”

  “But it was pretty bad?” The delicious way she licked her lips and waited for details almost made Jenna laugh out loud.

  “You’re such a devil,” Jenna said, stifling a smile. “Okay, it was sort of fun.”

  Chloe’s eyes opened wide. “He looked happy as he dashed past me and out the front door. Did you fuck? Tell me everything.”

  “I won’t tell you much. This guy paid for privacy in addition to everything else. I will tell you, however, that we didn’t fuck but he left here one satisfied guy. And he said he’d ask for me next time.”

  Chloe let out a little whoop. “Good going, Jen. So you’re willing to do it again?”

  “For him, sure.”

  “For other guys?”

  Jenna bristled. “Have you got guys lined up? Did you assume I’d go along?”

  “Not at all, and relax. It’s just that this fantasy fulfillment stuff is dynamite. There’s nothing like it around. The word’s gotten around on the floor of the exchange and several guys have asked Frank about doing something like this. It would involve fucking though.”

  Jenna shook her head slowly. “How can you sit there and discuss this so calmly?”

  “Because now we’ve both done it,” Chloe said, softly, “and I, for one, want to do more.”

  She was so conflicted that the more comfortable Chloe seemed with it, the more she pulled back. “Okay, you do it and leave me out. Except for Collin, of course. I promised I’d be here for him next time.”

  “Okay, if that’s what you want, but it would mean you wouldn’t have to get a full-time job or go back to Seneca Falls.” Her voice held temptation.

  “I don’t know, Chloe. Maybe. No. Not a chance. I don’t know.”

  Chloe’s impatience was starting to show. “Stop worrying about what you’re supposed to think. If you don’t want to do it, that’s fine. Do what you want to do and stop waffling. Make the decision and stick to it; stop making it over and over again. You’ve changed since you moved here. You’re not the small-town girl you pretend to be, shocked at a little casual sex, with or without money involved.”

  “I know.” She closed her eyes and shook her head. “I can just hear Marcy’s reaction.”

  “So don’t tell her. You haven’t shared anything about it up to now so why tell her anything.”

  “But we tell each other everything.”

  “Like about Collin?”

  “What about Glen? This isn’t the way he thinks of me at all.”

  “Why do you care what he thinks? I thought he was in your past.”

  “He is, of course. It’s just that ...”

  “I would like to do this fantasy thing as a business. The money’s too good to pass up and it would be doing things I enjoy anyway. If you want to do it with me, great. If not, make movies, entertain Collin, and that’s that. I hope you won’t be angry with me if I go ahead.”

  Jenna thought about what Chloe had said. She had kept deciding to do it, but then she would think about what everyone would say if they knew and what she thought she should want. Wasn’t it time to do what she wanted and to hell with what others would think? She slowly nodded her head. “I want to do it too.”

  “That’s great,” Chloe said, squeezing Jenna’s hand. “I’m glad you’ve decided.”

  “Me, too. It’s just—”

  “Stop. Right now. No more second thoughts. We’re in this together. Think about the money. If we can entertain in one of the upstairs rooms, oh, let’s say three times a week, at a thousand dollars a pop, that’s quite a bit of cash.”

  “A thousand?”

  “I’ve raised the price,” Chloe said. “If they can’t afford it, they can do without. We’re the only ones out there doing this.”

  “That certainly takes care of Aunt Elise’s taxes.”

  “We could put some in the kitty and keep the rest. It should mount up really quickly and we’d pay no income taxes.”

  “That bothers me. I know that selling sex is illegal, but most of the high-profile cases of madams—phew, I just said that word, didn’t I—getting caught and tried, it’s for tax evasion. Isn’t there any way around that?”

  Chloe shrugged. “Good point, and I haven’t a clue. Maybe we need some way to protect ourselves too. I’m not the type to organize things. I’m just the graphic designer.”

  “Don’t look at me. How the hell do we cover all the bases?”

  Several days later Jenna and Chloe were again sitting over a Chinese dinner. “Frank was talking to me about Club Fantasy today and he made a suggestion.”
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br />   “Club Fantasy?”

  “That’s what we’ve begun to call it. The name you suggested sort of stuck and it’s perfect. Anyway, Frank knows a woman who runs a very high-priced, call-girl operation. She’s really nice and would be willing to give us some pointers.”

  “A madam?”

  “I guess that’s what she would be. Some of Frank’s friends and business associates have used her women for parties and such, and have been pleased, not only with the women but with Erika’s professionalism. Her business is called Courtesans, Inc., and he suggested that we could call her.”

  “Interview a madam. I feel like a talk show, but I guess we could give it a try.”

  “Not we, Jen,” Chloe said. “You. I’m electing you to handle the business end of this thing we’re considering.”

  “Why me?”

  “Because I haven’t the foggiest idea about business.”

  “You’re copping out,” Jenna said. “You were a stockbroker after all. Don’t play dumb with me.”

  Chloe lowered her gaze. “Okay, you got me, but the whole idea of keeping records and filling out forms gives me the shakes. Please? Just talk to her. See how she answers some of our questions.”

  Jenna sighed. Chloe’s “cute act” didn’t endear her to Jenna, but she was right about one thing. If they were going to make a business out of Club Fantasy it would have to be her who made it happen. Did she want to create a business out of fulfilling fantasies? It seemed immoral somehow, and she shuddered at that thought. However, she’d made the decision and, as Chloe had pointed out, she couldn’t keep making it over and over. She was having fun, and could call it off at any time if it got too complicated in any way. And the money was quite an added incentive for both women. “Okay. I’ll talk to her.”

  “Great. I’ll call Frank and have him set it up.”

  Chapter 7

  The following afternoon Jenna sat in a trendy East-Side, Italian restaurant waiting for Erika. She’d debated about what to wear for a meeting with a madam, and she finally settled on a soft rose, short-sleeved blouse and a narrow, black skirt. She’d kept her makeup light and her hair loose around her shoulders. She sipped a glass of sauvignon blanc and tried to picture what a two-thousand-dollar-a-night madam looked like. When she spotted the woman who was making her way to her table she realized she had been completely off base.

  Instead of seeming slightly seedy, this woman reeked of class. Tall, slender, shapely, with shoulder-length, medium brown hair lightly streaked with dark blond, a confident walk, and a charming smile. She wore a pair of silver-gray, linen slacks and a navy blue, silk blouse, navy blue, flat-heeled shoes, and carried a matching handbag. Her makeup was soft and natural, making guessing her age difficult. Jenna glanced down at the woman’s hands, usually a giveaway to age, but saw only well-manicured mauve nails and a pair of rings, one a classic diamond solitaire, the other a plain gold band. The fact that the woman was married surprised Jenna. She stood and took the woman’s extended hand. “I’m Erika Dunlop,” the woman said, her voice softly modulated, “and you must be Jenna. That’s such a pretty name.”

  “Thanks. I’ve no idea where my parents got it, or Marcy for my sister.”

  “You’ve got a sister? How wonderful. Guaranteed playmates. I wasn’t so lucky. I’m an only.”

  “She’s actually my twin and that’s both good news and bad news. We always had someone to play with as kids, but it got a bit tiresome living as half of a unit as we became adults.”

  The waiter arrived and Erika ordered a glass of the same wine that Jenna was drinking. “I’m starving,” she said as the waiter hustled off to get her drink. “Do you mind if we order?”

  “Not a problem,” Jenna said, and the two women quickly decided to share an antipasto and an order of veal piccata with roasted potatoes instead of spaghetti.

  During a leisurely meal the two women got to know each other. Jenna told Erika about her life in Seneca Falls, Marcy, Chloe, and even touched on Glen. She was amazed at how easy the other woman was to talk to. When she mentioned it, Erika said, “It’s part of my job. I’m a courtesan, and a superior one has to be able to bring out the best in a man, and to do that you have to be able to understand his wishes, his deepest desires. How? By talking with him. I try to have dinner with a man before I go to bed with him for the first time. That way I can ferret out all the little things that matter to him. It’s sort of like a job interview, although the man must never realize it.”

  “I see your point. Before we get to the reason I wanted to meet you,” Jenna said, “tell me a little about you. How did you get into all this?”

  “Frankly, I needed the money. My husband decamped to Switzerland with every cent my daughter and I had in the world and refused to send any alimony or child support. So one thing led to another and I began to entertain men for money. I joined a wonderful woman named Valerie and the rest, as they say, is history.”

  “I know you run a business. Do you still entertain men yourself?”

  “From time to time. I still have a few of my old clients, and a few of my employees are still around, but I don’t take on anyone new on either side. I’m trying to phase the whole thing out but I’m like a fire horse. The bell rings and I can’t resist throwing oil on the fire, if you’ll pardon a very mixed metaphor.”

  Jenna glanced down at the engagement and wedding rings Erika wore. “You’re married. What about him?”

  “My husband is very tolerant.” Her eyes got soft and gentle. “Stuart’s a wonderful man. We’ve known each other forever and been married for almost three years. It’s still as great as it always was.”

  “Does he know about your business?” Jenna asked softly.

  “He’s the one responsible for it. It’s a long story and I’ll tell you all about it some time if you’re really interested. However, you didn’t meet me to hear my life history. I know about your movies and I’ve even seen one. An ex-client showed me the one he and his wife made after he got brave enough to share his desires with her. It was amazingly professionally done. You’re very talented and, to use his word, simpatico. That’s why I want to hear more about Club Fantasy.”

  “You know that name? Chloe and I kid about it but I didn’t think anyone else knew.”

  “One of my regulars told me about it. Word has gotten around and people are excited about it. They think that if you do it as professionally as the films it will be wonderful. Personally, I think it’s a great idea. My employees fulfill fantasies all the time, but not with props, costumes, and such. It could be quite a business.”

  “Can I ask you a question?”

  “Of course. You can ask me anything but I reserve the right not to answer if I want. Shoot.”

  There were so many things that she wondered about that Jenna was at a loss where to begin. She finally asked, “Why are men willing to pay so much money when they could get a plain hooker for a lot less?”

  “A serious question with a serious answer. In my case, they get someone cultured, classy, someone to decorate their arm at a social function with fringe benefits afterward. In your case, a man, or woman for that matter, would pay quite a bit for someone, or someones, who would do the things with him that he’s been dreaming about and masturbating to for years.”

  Erika sipped her wine, her long fingers gracefully cupping the glass. “There’s more too. They want anonymity, the knowledge that, unless they say something, no word of what they’ve done will get back to family, friends, or job. We have famous clients too, men and woman who want to have great sex with cultured partners who will keep their mouths shut and not go running to the nearest tabloid. Think for a moment about poor Kobe Bryant. He had sex with a groupie, or whatever she was, and look at the mess he got into. It seems unimportant to ascertain exactly what occurred. If he’d employed a professional, none of that would have happened.”

  “I guess I never thought about it that way. If you’ll pardon me for asking, what do you charge?”

  �
��We charge anywhere from a thousand to two thousand an evening. Most goes to the employee and the rest to Courtesans, Inc. In return for the money they give up, the men and women who work for me get health insurance, vacation pay, and, most important, the vetting of all the clients.”

  “Vetting?”

  “We make doubly and triply sure that the people we entertain are on the up and up. No cops, no weirdos.”

  “You said you employ men. Do women use your services too?”

  Erika looked startled. “Of course. Men aren’t the only ones who get lonely and needy. Women have fantasies just like men do.”

  “I never thought of that. I guess I’m not thinking about employing anyone else, just Chloe and me, having some fun with men who are willing to pay.”

  “You don’t have to go any further than that, of course, but if you want to expand your horizons, there’s a lot more you can do with a business like the one you’re considering. You have to be willing to go all the way, of course.”

  “All the way?”

  Erika leaned forward and placed her hand over Jenna’s on the white tablecloth. “Let’s be perfectly frank. If you want to consider entertaining men and playing with their deepest sexual fantasies, you will have to be willing to do some pretty unusual things.”

  Obviously, Erika didn’t realize that she hadn’t actually had intercourse with a man for money yet. Wasn’t she really just splitting hairs? “Like?”

  “Like oral sex, anal sex, threesomes, spanking, bondage, all the more esoteric things that men dream about. They can do ordinary things with their wives or girlfriends. They will want to do the more unusual with you. They might want to rape you, or be raped, tie you down or be tied. They might want you to become an experienced older woman or a child, and you’ll have to be all those things and more.”

  Discouraged, Jenna said, “You’re probably right.”

  “Darling, been there, done that, and you can too if you want to. It’s a very lucrative business but it has its downside. Days when all you want to do is stay in bed, alone, but you have to be up, on, understanding, without a care in the world. Days when you have your period or a belly ache or a head cold. You can’t disappoint a client or you’ll lose him and all the men he talks to.”