by Lolah Lace
“Sweetie just take a few deep breaths. It’s sex, not the bar exam. You’ve fucked before. Be nice to him and he’ll be nice to you. If you can, you should try and enjoy yourself.”
“Enjoy myself.”
“Yes. It’s possible to like what you’re doing. Have you had sex with anyone since your ex?”
Shit! I forgot I told Joel all about my breakup from Dave. I talk too much. I unloaded one day on the phone.
“No Joel, I just don’t jump from one man to the next.”
“That’s cute but that asshole left you high and dry. This is your revenge fuck.”
“No, not really. My ex will never know.”
“You’re wrong. He’ll know the next time he sees you. All the sadness will be gone from your eyes.”
Are my eyes sad? I didn’t bother to ask. I was too afraid he would tell me the truth and I didn’t want to hear it.
We stopped off and some nouveau riche salon on Michigan Avenue. The place was packed with White hairstylists. I didn’t want to let any of them touch my hair. Joel reassured me that this one stylist named Kay knew how to handle Black people’s hair. He said she did sew-ins, crochet, braids and relaxers. I’m not sure how Joel knew what any of those things were. But he was right. She hooked me up. She was blonde with blue eyes and white as snow but she talked like she was a Black woman. She told me she was divorced and had two biracial daughters. Then it all made sense. She was really cool. She was the type of person I could be friends with.
Getting my hair washed and styled relaxed me. I wasn’t the type to get my hair done by a professional. Last time I went to a salon was high school graduation. That was eight years ago.
CHAPTER 7
We drove for a good forty minutes out of the city limits. We were in the burbs, somewhere affluent. Joel turned off the main street into a dirt road which looked like nothing much. The place was far off the beaten path. It had its own private road that led to a huge modern brick house. We passed a bob-wired fence, security cameras perched in trees and no trespassing signs on the lone road.
Joel pulled up onto a paved driveway a few yards from the house. There were two lion statues in front of the house. There were on each side of the path that led to the front door. Rich people.
“We’re here.” Joel turned off the ignition and hopped out the car. I was frozen in the passenger seat as my heart drummed hard and fast. My pimp walked around to my door. I was trying to joke to myself to numb the apprehension. I think I needed Tequila instead of jokes. Joel knocked on the glass before he opened the passenger door. He reached in and grabbed my bag.
“Hun, you got to get out and walk. I could carry you but that would be creepy.”
I looked up and him. His hand was out and waiting for me to take it.
“I can walk.” I reached for him and he helped me separate myself from the car.
“Clammy hands. You are adorable right now.”
I didn’t feel adorable. I felt like Jezebel or maybe it was Mary Magdalene. Somebody was hooking in the Bible. So I’m in good company. I hope he’s not married. Why didn’t I ask that? I just assumed. Is that why I had to sign the non-disclosure agreement? What if he has a wife and kids?
Joel was pulling me up the pavement toward the front doors.
“Joel wait wait.”
“What?”
“Is he married?”
He started laughing. “This guy is far from married.” He punched a code into the security wall unit by the double glass doors.
We walked inside and my eyes were overwhelmed by the beautiful opulence of the place. I had never been in a place this big and this pretty. There was wall-to-wall white furniture. The staircase was glass and dark wood and curved against the wall. The floors were a deep dark chocolate wood. The walls were painted a rich bright white. The furniture looked expensive and exclusively made for this house.
“Is this his house?” I dislodged from Joel to spin around like a Disney princess.
“No, it’s rented.”
“He rented this place?”
“Yes hun, I must say it’s much better than a hotel.”
It was. A hotel would have made me feel bad. I may be able to block out the luridness of the experience in this home. “I wonder how much it costs to rent a place like this? ”
“Ah, I would guess this place, this town, about nine to twelve thousand dollars a month. So that’s about three-four thousand a week.”
His math was spot on. It occurred to me that this guy had paid more for me than to rent this house. I wasn’t sure how I felt about it. Something else occurred to me. He bought me. Just like a slave. My ancestors are singing Negro spirituals and kicking me out the Black race. What did he expect me to do for all that money? He—ha! I don’t even know this man’s name.
I looked down at my sweat suit. “My clothes don’t match this place.”
“He has clothes for you to wear,” Joel explained.
“Really?” He sounds weird.
“Yes, I think he has everything covered. Some guys like to dress women up like dolls. It’s the same as you buying you boyfriend an outfit because you want him to look a certain way. Everyone does it. In this case, you just had to show up and you did.”
He made sense. I can’t deny that. “This place is so beautiful.”
“It really is. We’re early. Let’s walk around. You should get acquainted with this place.”
“I should. I need to know where the bathrooms are.”
Joel smiled. “You do. That’s really important. This place has an indoor basketball court. I want to see what that looks like.”
“How do you know there’s a court?”
“I was texted the address when you were getting your hair done. I pulled the listing up online. There are pictures of it online.”
“Oh, you just got the address today?”
“The client waited until you signed the papers to give me the details.”
“Where are we? What suburb?”
“Lake Forest.”
“I’ve never been to Lake Forest.”
“Now you have.”
We left the foyer and Joel put my bag at the bottom of the wooden staircase. We took a right turn and the lead us to the dining room. The dining table was made of dark wood and the eight chairs were a pure white leather. There were three large ceiling to floor windows. I noticed the absence of curtains. The natural light made the room bright and colorful.
Joel and I trekked around the first floor. The rooms were decorated like they were out of a home design magazine. There were fine art pieces and sculptors that looked like they cost a pretty penny. There were even some plants. It must be nice to live like this. This was normal to some people.
The kitchen so clean you could eat off the floor. It was no different than the other rooms, spotless and very tidy. The refrigerator was stocked with food and drinks. We walked out to the back of the house and of course, there was a pool and a hot tub. It was fairly chilly this February so the pool wasn’t an option.
I walked back into the house from the pool with Joel behind me. Joel was right. During out exploration, we found the indoor half basketball court. We stood on the court just looking at how grand this house really was.
“Try to have fun.”
“I’ll try.” I shrugged. “But I don’t know what I’m doing. I haven’t even been having sex for a full decade.”
“I think he is attracted to your lack of experience. You have to remember. He didn’t want a pro. He wanted you.”
“You and Lahasia keep saying that but I don’t understand it.”
“What is there to understand? He saw your pictures. You are fucking hot. He probably did a background check on you to make sure you aren’t a criminal. Your blood test came back clean so he’s a man. That’s enough for him to want to fuck you.”
“Okay, I think I get it.”
“Do you really? You’re sexy. Most guys want to have sex with you. I would have sex with you.”
“I would fuck the shit out of you but I’m trying to fully commit to being gay.”
What does that mean? Fully commit? I didn’t ask what he meant. I was an inner emotional wreck from my own personal dilemma. How can I spend an entire weekend with my legs spread for a stranger?
“This place is nice.” Joel cut into my reckless thoughts. “Most guys are nice if you’re nice to them.”
“Am I supposed to pretend to be someone else?”
“No, just be you. He paid for Kelby, not Nicki Minaj.”
“Okay.”
“Let’s go upstairs and get you all the way together.”
CHAPTER 8
The rooms upstairs were just as gorgeous as the one’s downstairs. The master bedroom had a lock on the door. We couldn’t get in and that made me really want to see what was inside. I thought it was strange but Joel distracted me with words.
“The client left me instructions. There are clothes on the bed in a guestroom for you. Let’s find the guest room.”
I followed Joel to the first room on the left at the top of the staircase. We went to the right when we first came up. On the bed was an outfit lying there with a white lace bra and panties. Next to the clothes were three shoe boxes.
Joel checked the labels along with the price tags. He lifted the dress off the bed by the fancy padded hanger.
“He wants you to wear this bandage dress.”
“What’s a bandage dress?”
“It’s this Herve Leger I’m holding up.”
“I think it’s pretty.” And it was. The dress was white and alabaster. It was very short and skintight. It had a V-neck and cap sleeves. It was a club dress. Something I would wear if I was trying to show off my ass. “I’m going to have to squeeze into that.”
“I can get you in it.”
“Looks like you have your choice of shoes.” Joel placed the fancy dress back on the bed and popped the libs on all three of the shoeboxes. “We have the Giuseppe, the Louboutin, and the Choo. Pick one.”
“Red bottoms.”
“Good choice. I like them best with the dress.”
“So what should I do?”
“We should get you dressed. Then we can touch up the make-up and wait.”
“Wait for him to show up?”
“Yes. He’s going to text me when he’s on his way.”
“I’m scared to death but at little excited.” I wasn’t sure why I shared that last part with Joel. It was true. My heart raced but I was thrilled.
“There is nothing wrong with enjoying this experience. I told you before and I meant it. I don’t know this guy personally. I can say that he is putting a lot of money, thought, and effort into this. He is really trying to live in his Pretty Woman fantasy. You are his fantasy and looks like he’s trying to make everything comfortable and perfect for you. Give him the fantasy he wants.”
“I’m going to try.” I tried to smile.
“Give him your good pussy. You know you can leave at any time.”
“I’m going to try to tough it out. I’m not really a quitter.”
“I didn’t think so. Let’s get you naked.” I felt his hands unzip my sweatshirt.
“What are you doing?”
“Stand still. I will dress you.”
“I can dress myself.” I swatted his hand.
“Really Kelby. You need to just stand still and let me do all the work.”
“Whatever.” I stood still. He pulled my sweatshirt off my shoulders and unhooked my bra from the front. My breast spilled out. Joel tossed my clothes on the bed. He pulled the drawstring on my sweatpants and pulled then down so I could step out of them.
“I need to lotion your body.”
I rolled my eyes. Did someone tell him that Black people were ashy? I stood there butt ass naked and watched him carefully. He grabbed my bag off the floor and placed it on the bed. He unzipped my bag and removed a bottle of lotion.
“How did that get in there?”
“I tossed it in there while you were at the salon.”
I had already been shaved and groomed. My lady parts were waxed. I had my toes done. My nails were done. My hair was blown out and bouncy. I was as ready as I would ever be.
Joel wiped lotion on my shoulders and arms first. Whatever he used smelled good but it wasn’t greasy. He kneaded my shoulders until they weren’t stiff. I was still pretty amazed but the house, the clothes, just everything in general. There were two damn lion statues outside.
When Joel made his way to my breast he really took care of them. He tweaked my nipples until there creased into fine points. He rubbed them like a straight man. I gave him the side-eye but he didn’t seem to notice or care. His face was so close to my breasts I thought he might actually suck them. Joel is so bizarre for a gay guy.
I closed my eyes and just let him do whatever. I felt an odd intrusion between my legs. My eyes popped open. “Joel what are you doing?”
“What?”
“Did you just open my vagina?”
“No, I just opened the lips.”
“Why? Don’t open the lips.” Was this a real conversation?
“You didn’t want me to warm you up before he comes?”
“What? No.”
“I’m just kidding. Unless you want me to.”
“No, I don’t want you to warm me up.”
“Did you masturbate this morning?”
“No, why would I do that?”
“People masturbate all the time. It might have relaxed you.”
Maybe someone should have told me that ahead of time. “I didn’t do that. So I’m going to have to just— I don’t know, relax some other way.”
“Think happy thoughts. Think about getting stuffed with a fat eight-inch cock. That’s what I think about. It relaxes me.”
I burst into laughter.
“Time is ticking. We need to get you dressed.” Joel handed the ivory lace panties over to me. I took the delicate fabric and I stepped into them. He helped me into the bra and placed each one of my breasts into the cups. He grabbed the dress off the hanger. “Step in.”
I obeyed. I placed my hands on his shoulders and he bent to help me step into the dress. He carefully pulled it up my legs and over my hips. I placed my arms in the cap sleeves and turned around so he could zip me into the form fitting dress that cost a small fortune.
This guy was rich. Joel was right he wanted a fantasy for himself. Clearly, he wanted one for me too. I could bare this if he acts like a gentleman. I don’t know how this will work if I find him unattractive. I can close my eyes and think of like Brad Pitt or something.
“This is over on Sunday?”
“No, you go home Monday morning. We talked about this already. Do you need me to go over the rules?”
“Yes please.” I couldn’t remember shit Joel said to me over the phone or when I had been drinking. I was sober now. I needed to hear everything all over again.
“Okay, so you follow his rules. He needs your attention. You cannot have your cell on you so I’m taking it with me. He needs his privacy. No pictures. No social media. Like a regular job, you cannot talk on your cell or text. You have to always respect the client. You’re a waitress so I know you get it. Apply some hospitality skills in this situation. You are allowed to text me once a day from the phone he provides. You can only call to me once a day with his permission from the phone that he provides. If you are in danger your code word is HAPPY. For example, if I say ‘Are you happy?’ you would say I’m happy instead of yes or I’m good. Remember the word is HAPPY.”
“Okay, happy. I got it.”
“Absolutely no girl that works for me has ever had to use her code word. I want you to know that I have never had a serious problem with a client.”
“Okay.” That was good to hear but I wasn’t sure how much it put my mind at ease.
“Sit down on the bed.” Joel removed the nude Christian Louboutins
from the box. He knelt to put them on my feet. He placed the right shoe on my foot.
“How did he know what size shoe I wore?”
“I told him.”
“How did you know my size?”
“Kelby, I’ve been doing this for awhile now. I’m a professional.”
“Right, I forgot. I’m new to this.” Hopefully, not true to this.
Joel slipped the other shoe on and tightened the strap. He stood and placed his hands out for my to take them. I placed my hands in his and let him pull me to standing.
“Damn Gina! You look hot.”
I smiled. “I feel hot.” I smoothed my hands over my stomach.
“Can you walk in heels?”
I rolled my eyes. “Yes, Joel, I can walk.”
“Well walk.”
I wanted to impress Joel. I put one hand on my hip and I seductively walked clear across the room. I let my hips sway to the music in my brain— There Goes My Baby by Usher. I twirled in a circle and I gave him my America’s Next Top Model pose. Tyra would be so proud of me. I walked right up to Joel and I placed my hand on his chest. I looked him in the eye.
“Is my walk— acceptable?”
Joel just stood there looking down at me with his mouth open. “Yes, be this Kelby, the fun sexy version of you. Can you do that?”
“Yes, I can.”
“Now back up my dick is getting hard.”
I giggled for the first time in awhile. I hopped backward like a bunny rabbit and didn’t stumble and fall in my heels. I had impressed myself.
“You are a goofball.”
“Sexy goofball.”
He shook his hand yes and groped his crotch. He readjusted his huge package. A package I had seen and was etched in my brain. I didn’t understand what level of gay Joel really was if he could get erections from women.
Joel’s cell phone started buzzing. He pulled it from his front pants pocket. “Touch up your make-up.”
I watched him check his cell. I strolled over to the mirror that sat above the chest of drawers. My overnight bag was on top of the dresser. I unzipped and dug inside for my make-up bag.
I stared in the mirror at a reflection that resembled me but was a sexy confident version of me. A version of me that made my insides smile. I didn’t get the level of depression that had clouded me until now. I was in the twilight zone for so long it was normal. But now I felt liberated and free.
