by Matt Shaw
Before I walked down to the cafeteria today though I reached for my phone and pulled it from the inside of my jacket. A quick look over my shoulder as a couple of colleagues walked past my booth. A feeling of dread that they were going to come in to see me. An unnecessary concern and soon enough the coast was clear to check for any messages. The messages came through painfully slowly. I can but only presume a lot of people are currently accessing the network. Come on, come on, come on… So slow. Junk mail, junk mail, more spam, an email with reference to the delivery of an item I purchased a couple of days ago, more spam and sitting there - at the top of the list - the email I had been hoping for; notification of a private message waiting for me. After another quick check over my shoulder to ensure I was alone and - when I saw I was - I loaded up the adult website once more and clicked into the section containing my private messages. There it was - top of the page - a message from Danni. The subject was the one I’d left her: Query. It gave no clue as to the content. I felt nervous as I clicked into it.
Another missed heart-beat as I saw she had agreed to my appointment followed quickly by a sudden burst of excitement at the prospect of seeing her again. There was more to the message than a simple ‘yes’ and I continued to read; surprised to note she’d reminded me to bring a picture of Michelle. The website allowed pictures to be sent through. I temporarily closed the site down and went through the various photos on my phone in an effort to find a suitable picture of Michelle among them. It was strange - she was such a pretty woman, beautiful even, and yet she hated having her picture taken and, as a result, I didn’t have many. The photos I did have of her were because she had been unaware they were being taken.
It didn’t take long for me to find a semi-reasonable picture. I hesitated a moment, still unsure as to whether I should send it. For all I knew she was being polite. I pointed out to myself that it wouldn’t do any harm - her seeing the picture - and I loaded back into her message. I attached the photograph, confirming the appointment at the same time, and pressed send. I watched as the website slowly loaded the next page; the reply was sent.
Chapter Five
I waited by the apartment door, ready to open it as soon as he knocked. He’d only just buzzed so I had about twenty seconds before he did. Although I suspected the appointment was going to go the same way as our previous session - especially after his email asked for such - I still dressed up in a nice (short) dress. The only difference was the underwear I wore underneath were more for comfort than sex appeal. There was a gentle knock on the door. Gentle but confident. I pulled on the handle and opened the door inwards to reveal Jake standing there - a nervous smile on his face. His smile seemed to broaden when he noticed my hair.
The picture he’d sent me was of Jake and his wife. They appeared to be in a restaurant setting. It all looked romantic. I guessed they got a waiter, or another diner, to take the snap of them. Jake was smiling and looking straight to the camera. His wife was looking at Jake himself as though she were embarrassed to be having the photo taken. It was hard to see the style of dress that she was wearing - other than to say it was black - but it was easy to see the hairstyle she’d opted for. Her long hair had been tied into a ponytail. The ponytail was draped over her right shoulder - just as mine was now.
“Come in!” I said.
“You look pretty,” he handed over the fee and I led him through to the living room where we’d had our previous date. He didn’t need to be offered a seat before he took one.
I hesitated in the doorway, “Can I get you a drink? Cup of tea again? Or water… Or, if you’re feeling up to it, I can open us a bottle of wine?”
“Cup of tea would be great,” he said.
I nodded and walked through to the kitchen. I flicked through the various notes Jake’d given me, as he walked in, and was happy to see the correct amount there. I stashed them in the top drawer in the kitchen, along with the cutlery, and turned my attention to making my date a cup of tea as he’d requested. “I wasn’t sure that I’d be seeing you again,” I called through to the living room. “I thought after the last appointment you might have realised this kind of thing wasn’t for you,” I continued.
“To be honest…”
I jumped at the sound of the voice. I turned to see he was standing in the kitchen doorway, leaning against the doorframe.
“… I meant to get in touch thanking you for last night. It actually helped, you know, talking about her. I guess I’ve held onto it all for so long, kept it to myself, that it got a little unhealthy,” he continued.
“We all grieve in different ways. Who’s to say what is right or wrong?” I pulled two mugs from one of the cupboards and put them next to the now boiling kettle.
“Well - like I said - I meant to just say thank you but, yeah, I couldn’t resist seeing you again.” He nodded to my hair, “I like what you’ve done,” he said.
I smiled at him, “I thought you might have. I just wanted to look nice for you.”
“You look more than nice. You look amazing.” He hesitated a moment, “So you agree then - that you two look similar?”
I laughed, “I did see a resemblance. Scary.” The kettle clicked to signify it was boiled. I added a tea-bag to each of the mugs along with a little milk before pouring in the boiling water. I turned back to him whilst waiting for them to brew a little. Nothing worse than a cup of tea that’s too milky. “So what did you want to talk about tonight?” I asked. “Or would you rather move things into the bedroom?” He’d told me he wanted to talk but - in my role - it felt wrong not to at least offer him the possibility of moving things to a different stage.
He shrugged, “I just wanted to see you again.”
I gave each tea-bag a little squeeze with the metal tongs, stored next to the tea-bag pot, before transferring them to a small dish next to the kettle. I’d put them in the bin later. I took one of the cups and handed it to Jake who gratefully received it. I picked mine up.
“Shall we go through to the living room?” I asked.
He walked through to the living room with me following. For the first time ever I felt unsure of how best to proceed with the appointment. I understood he just enjoyed my company from the previous night - and the fact I reminded him of his wife - but, despite knowing that, it wasn’t a type of appointment I’d gone through with before. I laughed to myself, all these years on the job and a first. Here’s me thinking I’d seen everything.
We both sat in the living room.
The silence on his behalf also suggested he was in the same boat as me; unsure of how best to proceed. Definitely easier when I can just slide their cock into my mouth.
“Did you have a good day today?” I asked.
“Yes. Believe it or not but I was looking forward to seeing you again,” he said. His face reddened slightly as though he were embarrassed. Not the first man I’ve seen who’s felt awkward in my presence and certainly won’t be the last. Most men relax into the appointments but definitely a little unsure when they first come in.
He was the first to break the silence (which was fast becoming fairly uncomfortable), “I’m sorry, I don’t really know what to say.” He laughed about it. “Didn’t think this far through.”
It started to dawn on me that there was a chance he’d come back to see me just because I resembled his old wife. A strong possibility that he wasn’t here for me at all - or the company I offered, but rather the memories I stirred up. I took a sip on my cup of tea and hesitated a moment - a hesitation he noticed.
“What’s wrong? Did you want me to leave?”
I shook my head, “No. You’re fine. It’s just…” I felt strange about what I was going to offer him but, for the sake of getting through the appointment and giving him what he wanted, I felt as though it was the best thing to do, “… I’m not sure if you’ve read all of my profile but I offer a role-play service.”
He shifted in his seat as though uncomfortable at what I’d said.
“I’m not saying we
need to do anything but - if you want… I mean, if it helps…” Usually when I’m with my clients I am more sure of myself. I know what they want, usually thanks to their concise emails, and I provide what they want. It’s rare, these days, that I have to guess as to what they are seeking. Even the shy men open up to me with their desires and fantasies once I’m sucking on their cocks. “… You can call me Michelle.” I realised I might have been completely mis-reading him and making a fool of myself but - at this rate - I wouldn’t be accepting an appointment from him again. He shifted in his seat again, embarrassed by my offer. “You don’t have to - just thought, if we looked the same, maybe you’d like to. It might help you?” Maybe he didn’t have enough time to say his goodbyes and that was why he was struggling to move on so much? Maybe it would help him form so kind of closure?
“I’m not sure.”
“You don’t have to,” I reassure him. “I just thought you might want to. You know - go out of the apartment and come back in again as though coming in from work. I could play the part of Michelle and… Well… It was just an idea.”
He laughed (more from embarrassment), “Do you get this a lot?”
“You’d be the first,” I laughed back, equally embarrassed at the potential fool I’d made of myself.
He stood up a moment and walked to the far wall where he stood next to the window, looking out into the darkness beyond. “Is it not just a little bit wrong?” he asked.
“I don’t see why. It doesn’t matter anyway. You don’t have to. We can just sit and talk. I just thought you might want to try it. I thought it might make you feel good to have a conversation with her again. I mean, we both know it’s not really her but - you know.”
He paused. Looked as though he were in deep thought. After a few more seconds he turned to me, “Could we give it a try?” he asked.
I nodded and smiled at him, “Of course. And if you want me to stop we can use a safe word.”
“A safe word?”
“I usually use the word submarine. It’s just a word that wouldn’t normally come into conversation during my appointments. If a client says that - I know whatever we’re doing has gone a little too far and he needs a break for a moment.”
“Have many clients ever used it?”
“The safe word?” I asked.
He nodded, “Yes. Have many people had to say it?”
I shook my head. It’s always wise to have a safe word but a true professional knows the limits of her client before getting to the stage of needing it. It was fair to say though that, in this instance, I had no idea what the limit would be. I knew it had the potential to go very wrong and that I was in over my head but - not sure why - I just wanted to help and, if it did help, it would be worth it. “It’s important to have it there as a safety net though. Most clients feel comfortable just knowing there’s a way out, should they want it at any point.”
He laughed again and nervously scratched the back of his head. “What would we talk about?” he asked.
“We just go with the flow. Whatever you’d usually do when getting home from a hard day at the office, when Michelle was here, do that and I’ll follow your lead.”
“If you don’t mind,” he stuttered, “then we could give it a try?”
I walked over to him and took the cup of tea from his hands. Along with mine, I put them both on the side. He looked nervous and a little apprehensive. I reassured him it was okay. “Leave the apartment,” I told him, “and then come back. When you do - I’ll be in character.”
His smile broadened and he nodded. He walked from the room whilst I waited in the living room. A second later I heard the front door open and close. I looked at my reflection in a large mirror that hung from the wall above the sofa. Even I looked nervous.
There was a knock on the front door.
I need to shake the nerves away. It’s just another appointment. A different kind of role-play session to what I am used to but still a form of role-play. I can do this. I sauntered from the room and up to the front door. With a hand - steady as a rock - I reached for the handle and opened the door. Jake was standing there.
“You forgot your keys again?” I asked him.
“Sorry,” he stepped into the apartment and gave me a quick kiss on the cheek, “I must have left them at work.”
I closed the door behind him. He was taking his jacket off as he walked on through to the living room.
“I heard your car,” I said, “and made you a cup of tea.” When I reached the lounge I pointed to the side where I’d earlier placed our two cups. He went over and took one of them before giving it a sip.
“Thank you. What would I do without you?” he asked.
He looked like a new man, standing here role-playing through this scenario. I could see it on his face, just as I could with other - more perverse clients - that he was allowing himself to go along with it. I felt a little rush of relief.
He carried on, “I might have a shower. Do I have time before dinner?” he asked.
“Of course. To be honest I haven’t even started on dinner yet. I was thinking we might be able to get a take-away later? I’ve been craving Chinese food.”
“Sounds good to me.” He hesitated a moment, “We got any clean towels or are they all in the wash?”
“No. They’re through here,” I lead him through to the bathroom. The shower was attached to the wall above the bath itself. When you wanted a shower, there was a screen that could be extended across the rim of the bath to stop the water from flowing over the edge and onto the tiled floor. I prefer the screen over the curtain that some showers seem to have. “I put the towels there,” I told him pointing to the rail above the radiator on the wall adjacent to the bath. He thanked me. “I’ll leave you to it,” I said, leaving the room.
I didn’t close the door. I merely pulled it too. I walked through to the living room wondering whether Michelle was the kind of woman who’d join him in the shower or whether he was the type of man who preferred solitude whilst washing in order to rid himself of any stress. I took a sip from my cooling tea as I waited for the sound of the water to begin running from the other room - something which came less than a minute later. I paused a moment, unsure of how best to proceed once more.
*
By the time I stepped into the bath and underneath the shower head I’d gotten the temperature of the water just right; not too hot, not too cold. As the water cascaded down my bare back I couldn’t help but replay the scenario back through my mind. With the exception of the mentioning of the Chinese food - something Michelle hated - it almost felt real. It helped that I tried my best just to go with it. It felt, in parts, that I really was standing there with my wife once more. Part of me thought I should feel sad - knowing that it’s all a lie and, really, she’s gone - but another part of me felt good; happy to go along with the lie. I knew it wasn’t her but it didn’t hurt to pretend. It felt nice. I jumped from my thoughts at the sound of the door being slowly pushed open. I turned to the door and saw Michelle standing there in a fine-looking dress. She was staring at me. Her expression was mixed between lust and nerves. I smiled at her. She reached to the small zip on the side of her dress and undid it before letting the item of clothing drop to the floor. Standing there in her non-matching bra and panties, so typical of Michelle, I couldn’t help but feel a twitch from between my legs. She looked great with her curves, all in the right places. My smile broadened as she unhooked the back of her bra-strap before removing it, allowing her heaving bosom to be exposed. Her nipples were standing to attention just as I was now. She didn’t stop there and she stepped from her underwear. A vision of beauty as I took in her perfect, naked form.
“Room for a little one?” she asked.
I didn’t say anything; just nodded like an idiot. She smiled as she stepped over the edge of the bath before joining me under the warm, falling water. She put her hands around my waist and looked me in the eyes; a naughty twinkle in her own.
“I thought you
looked as though you may have been stressed,” she said. “Anything I can do to help with that?”
Without thinking I put my hand on her cheek and leaned in for a passionate kiss. To my joy she reciprocated. I placed my other hand gently on her other cheek as I continued to kiss her before running it down her side and resting on her buttock. She pressed herself into me and as our two naked bodies touched, what felt like a bolt of electricity surged through my body. My other hand ran the same course down her body as the first hand did - albeit on the opposite side - before coming to a rest on her pert ass. All the time we continued to kiss, only breaking momentarily to come up for air. I felt her own hand touch my body and another surge of electricity rush through me. I was fully erect now; my hard cock pressing against her naval. We stopped kissing.
“I’ve missed you Michelle,” I said.
“You only saw me this morning,” she said.
I smiled. She’s good.
Her fingertips brushed my hard-on as the naughty twinkle in her eye continued to sparkle brilliantly.
“So,” she said, “anything I can do to help with the stress?”
I didn’t say anything. She ran her fingertips down the length of my shaft, causing it to twitch. When they reached the base, she wrapped her whole hand around my cock and started to gently stroke it. I let out an audible sigh as she continued to stroke up and down the length of my penis.
“Is that nice?” she purred.
I nodded. Each stroke, topped with the shower water massaging my back as it continuously hit me hard from the power shower, continued to send little bolts of electricity through my entire body. I couldn’t stop watching her pretty face as she continued to toss me. Her naughty glint - lustful look - turning me on so much. That smile - the one I’d missed so much. The sight of her erect nipples as the water cascaded down her breasts and stomach. Her hand, pretty painted nails, rubbing my manhood with increasing speed. Her other hand around my back - stopping me from moving away from her strokes. I leaned in for another passionate kiss, exploring her tongue with my own.
