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D'Orr's

By: obg



Walking home from the subway, Liz realized just how tired she was. It was sometime after 9:00 on a Thursday night. If she'd met any of her friends, they would already be toasted, and all she really wanted was a quiet, but strong drink. Cruising by a newsstand she picked up a Daily News, not something she usually read, but she felt in the mood for it tonight. Now the only thing to do was find a nice quiet bar in which to have that drink and read the paper. 

Remembering what looked like a small hotel closer to the East River than to her apartment, she thought that might be the place to find exactly what she wanted. With a destination in mind, she quickened her pace, her low heels clicking briskly on the sidewalk. She cruised by her apartment, glancing up at the windows and remembering she had to do something about getting a new roommate. Katherine was moving out in a couple weeks and there was no way Liz, a junior associate at her law firm, could afford a place on her own. 

Liz crossed the last street, recalling the place was in the middle of the block. She wasn't even sure it was a hotel it was so small, but there was a small brass plaque next to the door and it had a well-kept awning leading from the curb across the sidewalk and up the short flight of stairs to the front door. Liz had seen some very nice cars parked out front and she had even seen a diplomat plate or two while she was out on one of her early morning jogs by the river.

Liz climbed the stairs. "D'Orr," the brass plaque read. She was so close to a drink, or so she thought, that she could almost taste it. She took the last step, reached forward and opened the door. 

She hadn't seen the man through the door. He was standing at something like a hostess stand, with a phone to his ear. He seemed just as surprised to see her as she was to see him. When he lowered the phone from his ear, Liz was a little taken aback at how good-looking he was. He spoke with a bit of a French accent. 

"May I help you, mademoiselle?"

"I was just looking for a nice, quiet bar to have a drink in. Do you have a bar here?" Liz replied.

The man looked her over and met her eyes again with absolutely no sign of embarrassment. "We do. Through here and to the right. Enjoy."

Liz was a little put off by his blatant overview, but had there been a little more light she might have done the same thing. She laughed at herself and walked into the bar. It was small but exquisitely appointed. There were only six stools at the bar proper and a handful of tables. A couple of the tables were occupied but it was fairly dark and she couldn't make out the occupants. The only real light was by the bar, where no one was sitting. The bartender had just put down the phone and she turned to smile at Liz. She was stunned by the woman's beauty. Taller than Liz, who was no slouch at 5'10", she had dark hair and light blue eyes and could have been anywhere between 35 and 50 years of age. 

"Good evening. I apologize for the holdup at the front door, but it's not often we get people off the street looking for a drink. We're generally not open to the public, and almost no one simply walks in. You look like you need a drink more than we need our privacy. What can I get for you?"

Liz placed her paper on the bar and pulled out one of the stools to sit down. She looked over the bottles and asked for a martini. "I'm sorry. I thought this was a hotel. I was just looking for a quiet place to get a drink and read the paper."

"Well, you've certainly found a quiet place, although I'm afraid the lighting in here is going to be a little hard to read by." They both laughed. "My name is Charlotte." 

"I'm Liz." They shook hands and continued talking. Liz ordered another drink.

"So, is this a hotel?" Liz asked. 

"Yesss," the women drew out, "but our guests seek as much privacy as they can find. We simply provide that. We do no advertising. Word of mouth only, and even then you can only get in if you have a reference. Do you live nearby?"

"I just live in the next block west, for the moment at least. My roommate's moving out in a couple weeks and I may have to move. It's my place, but I don't think I can afford it on my salary."

Now it was Charlotte's turn to look Liz over. Liz noticed and lowered her eyes with uncharacteristic shyness. She'd been gangly in high school and occasionally was still a little self-conscious about her body, even though she had nothing to be ashamed of. In fact, as she had aged she'd filled out in all the right places, and now in her late 20s she had a great body, which she usually kept hidden under her work clothes. She'd known her roommate since college, and even she had remarked at how great her body had gotten over the years. Still, as tall as she was, it wasn't often she ran into a man who was up to the perceived challenge of the taller woman. Now, that guy at the front, the host or bouncer or whatever he was…

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to embarrass you," Charlotte said. "Drink on the house?"

Liz looked at her watch. It was after 11:00 and she had to get up early. She did feel considerably better than when she'd come in, though. "Can I take a rain check? I've got to be up awfully early in the morning."

"I enjoyed meeting you, Liz. Come back anytime you need a quiet drink." 

"Thank you. I'd like that." Liz picked up her things and left the way she'd come in, passing by the man at the front.

"Good night," he said. "Will we be seeing you again?" 

Liz turned toward him. "Yes, I think you will," she said, smiling. She could feel him watching her as she went through the door. As she went down the stairs she realized how good she felt. She felt warm inside, and was glad she had stopped in. She felt like she had found a little place she could call her own. She was going to keep this place to herself. She liked the woman behind the bar, Charlotte, and found herself wondering about the guy at the front. 

As she climbed the stairs to her apartment she recalled how long it had been since she'd really been with a man. She entered her apartment, dropping her keys by the door and her bag on the sofa. Her roommate wasn't in. She was glad of that, and wished yet again that she could afford the apartment by herself. She went into the bathroom and slipped out of her dress. She brushed her teeth and hair and went into her bedroom. She undid her bra and let it slip off her shoulders. When she bent over to slip off her panties, she noticed a damp spot on them and smiled to herself. It might have been a while, but she still had the interest. She went over to the air conditioner and turned it up a notch. 

Liz threw back the covers and flopped down on the bed. She reached over and turned off the bedside light, but the city lights cast an orange glow throughout the room. As she lay there, she thought about the guy at the bar, and about the last guy she'd slept with – he hadn't been very good, but there had been others. As she lay there, she slid her hands down her belly to the inside of her thighs. She pulled her legs up and out, imagining someone else was parting them. With both hands she rubbed the inside of her thighs, climbing higher and higher, her hands finally meeting at the same place her legs met. 

Liz finally arched her back and let out a long, quiet sigh just as she heard her Katherine's key turning in the lock. Liz took one of her extra pillows, clamped it between her legs and rolled over on her side to go to sleep. In minutes, she was fast asleep, a satisfied smile on her face.

Liz awoke late on Sunday morning, still exhausted. The rest of the week had been very long, not ending till early Saturday evening. But Friday there had been a bit of a bonus. Her boss had called her into his office and told her she was being promoted to associate. Along with this promotion, she would get her own junior associate to do some of the tedious legwork. She might not gain a lot of hours of free time, but there would be a few. In addition, she'd be getting enough of a raise that she wouldn't have to find a roommate right away. Just on the frugal side of free-spending, Liz had squirreled some money away, and so, with the raise, she could afford to take a little more time to figure out her living situation. 

Liz pulled on some shorts and a t-shirt and ran out to get a paper and coffee. When she came back she stretched out on the sofa and read, watched TV and napped for the rest of the day. By early evening she was finally starting to feel sociable, and went in to take a shower. While she was drying off, she thought about what she wanted to do about dinner. She grabbed a pair of jeans and slipped them on, turning to check out the view in the mirror. She had developed a nice ass as she'd aged, and she was glad she hadn't filled out till later in life – it meant she could make it last for that much longer. She had plenty of friends who were round and voluptuous in high school and even college, and she'd been jealous at the time. But now they were fighting weight problems she didn't think she'd ever have, and she was glad for that. 

Liz picked out a white, silk button-down top and pulled it on, tucking it into her jeans. Still with no plan in mind, she left the apartment and went down to the street. When she got to the sidewalk, she looked up the street and then down the street. Remembering the little place she'd wandered into the other night, she decided to head there for a drink first. Maybe there would be something to eat there as well. She covered the block and a half quickly.

When she approached the door, she didn't see the guy, whatever his name was, at his spot. When she pulled on the door she found it had been locked. A little confused, she looked around and saw a small buzzer set into a round brass cover. Shrugging her shoulders, Liz pressed the button. She couldn't hear anything and was ready to turn away when he came to the door looking ready to send whoever was ringing on their way. When he saw Liz on the other side of the door, his face loosened and broke into a smile. He unlocked the door and welcomed her inside. 

"Come in, come in. I am so sorry it was locked for you." He held the door for her as she came up the last step and inside. She turned toward him and held out her hand. 

"I'm Liz. What's your name?"

"You may call me Michael. Charlotte told me your name and said that you were welcome here any time. Unfortunately, she is not here right now, so if you were looking for her bartending skills, I am afraid you will have to put up with mine."

They both laughed, and Liz led the way into the bar. She could feel Michael's eyes checking out her backside in her jeans, and she was glad she'd worn them. "Is Charlotte going to be in?"

"I am sorry, but not tonight. She usually takes Sundays off, when we're slow. I hope you will not leave because of that."

"Well, it depends on how well you mix your drinks," Liz joked. She liked Michael's apparent humility. It was so refreshing when compared to all the male egomaniacs she generally met in her business. "You don't have any food here, do you?"

"No, but I was just going to call for some Indian food. Would you care to join me?"

"I don't know what to order," Liz replied. 

"How spicy do you like your food?"

"Medium to spicy."

"Good, me too. I know just what to order. Have a seat. What would you like to drink?"

"Indian food says beer, doesn't it?"

Michael poured her beer and went around the corner to call in the order, giving Liz the remnants of a leftover Sunday paper. Liz heard Michael mumbling into the phone and then heard him pick up the phone to make another call. He hung up the phone and as he came back behind the bar she heard a door close somewhere in back. 

"So, what is your job here?" Liz asked when Michael had settled into a bar stool behind the bar. 

"Well, I watch the front, do the books, and watch the bar when Charlotte's not here. It's primarily her business, but we're sort of partners. I lent her some of the money for the renovations."

He could sense Liz's attitude change when he mentioned "partners." "We're not married or even dating. Never have. We've just known each other a long time," he clarified. "I met her in France when she was traveling over there. I expressed an interest in coming here to do some work and she had this idea." He waved his hand to indicate the bar and hotel. 

Liz relaxed and smiled. "And the rest is history?" 

"Something like that." The buzzer rang and Michael went out to retrieve the Indian food. He brought it back in and said, "We're not expecting anyone tonight, so, if you don't mind, I'll sit on this side of the bar." 

He poured a couple more beers and started pulling containers out of the bags. The conversation lagged as they both ate, the spicy food inviting more beer.

After they'd finished, Michael picked up the containers and asked Liz if she'd like something else to drink. She asked for a gin and tonic, which he got for her, and then he made one for himself and again sat down next to her, so close their knees were almost touching. 

After the drinks and the company, Liz had made up her mind. She was going to take Michael to bed. She needed it badly. "How long do you keep the bar open?" she asked, looking up at him from her drink and turning just enough so their legs touched. 

"My choice, really. There's no one staying here tonight, and no one's scheduled to come in, so I can close any time." Michael looked into Liz's eyes and knew immediately what she was really asking – "How soon can I get your clothes off you?"

"Do you live here, or do you have an apartment nearby?" Liz asked, sliding a little closer toward him.

"Actually, I stay here," Michael responded, while thinking to himself "She's not wasting any time."

Liz stood up and placed her hands on the arms of Michael's barstool. She liked taking charge, and it had been so long, and she found this man attractive. She leaned forward and kissed him just below his earlobe. He tilted his head to one side. "Show me?" she whispered, taking the tip of his earlobe between her teeth. 

Michael responded by reaching around her waist with one arm and pulling her toward him. "Let me get the lights."

Liz went behind the bar and poured herself a glass of cranberry juice. She'd had enough to drink. Michael came back from out front and took Liz's hand and led her down the front hall toward the back of the brownstone. At the end of the hall he led her into his studio apartment, which dwarfed Liz's one-bedroom. The furnishings were exquisite, not too dark, and it was an apartment Liz felt immediately comfortable in. 

Michael approached the bed and turned to face Liz. She walked the last few steps to him and reached up to pull his mouth toward hers. She pressed her lips against his, slowly working her tongue inside his mouth where their tongues intertwined. He sensed she liked taking charge in bed, and, going against his normal reactions, let her continue. 

Liz reached in between them and with one hand undid his belt, and then the top snap of his pants, not breaking off their kissing for a second. She felt for the top of his zipper and slid it down very slowly, her free fingers brushing against his growing cock. When she had lowered his zipper all the way, she reached inside the top band of his boxers and took him in her hand. She slumped against him and gave a little moan. As she kneeled in front of him, he held onto her shirt, pulling it free of her jeans.

Liz pulled his pants down to the floor, leaving his boxers on for the moment. He lifted one foot at a time as Liz pulled his pants out of the way and slid them across the floor. She turned back toward him, her head even with the tip of his cock, which was straining the waistband, eager to be released. Liz hooked a finger in each side of the waistband and slowly pulled them down to his knees, where they fell the rest of the way to the floor. She had thought he was bigger than what she was used to when she had first touched him, but now that she was at eye level with his pulsing cock, she almost wondered what she had gotten herself into. She pulled back the foreskin of the first uncircumcised cock she had ever seen, exposing the bright red head. Liz firmly tongued the underside of the head, and then pulled it forward just a little and in one smooth motion took as much of his cock into her warm mouth as she could. 

Michael moaned and placed his hands on her shoulders to guide her closer. She reached up with her other hand and cupped his balls. He spread his legs a little and her middle finger reached further back to press against the puckered bud of his ass. Liz continued her ministrations on his cock, taking as much as she could on the down stroke, occasionally suckling on the tender area underneath. When Michael felt he could take no more, he reached under her arms and lifted her up to him. 

Michael started unbuttoning her top, leaning forward to kiss the tops of her breasts when he revealed them. Liz leaned her head and shoulders back to expose more of them to him. He took the hint and undid the clasp of her bra, fully exposing her smallish, but perfectly shaped breasts, nipples fully erect. One at a time, he took them in his mouth and rolled them around, Liz pressing into him each time. He removed her shirt and bra, turned her around, and gently laid her on the bed. 

Michael stood by the side of the bed and pulled his shirt over his head. Then he kneeled on the bed and placed his hand between her breasts. Slowly, he drew his hand down the center of her belly, stopping briefly to draw a circle around her belly button. Liz arched her back, and Michael started unbuttoning her jeans. He grasped the top of them and slid them down over her hips as she arched her back again, then he stood back, grabbed the bottoms of them and pulled them off her, leaving her with only her panties on. He dropped the jeans on the floor and started kissing up her legs. When he got to her panties, he noticed how soaking wet they were. Slowly he pulled them off, and as he climbed back onto the bed he pulled them the rest of the way, Liz kicking them off from around her ankles. She turned to the right, her head close to the foot of the bed.

Michael followed part way, and started kissing her belly. Liz had had enough. She grabbed his head and pulled him up so they were face to face. "I really need this. Fuck me now, please."

These were not words Michael had expected to hear from someone who looked like she was from the farm somewhere. She spread her legs and raised her hips off the bed. Michael looked her up and down, and rolled on top of her. She reached between his legs and guided him home. As he entered she closed her eyes and tipped her head back, relishing the feeling of the hard, hot cock entering her. Michael entered slowly until he was all the way in, then he pulled part-way out and thrust hard and deep. Liz pushed back, his size more than filling her, but it had been so long that it felt so good. He kept a slow but forceful pace, and for a couple minutes, each enjoyed their own sensations, when Liz stopped him. He looked surprised, but when she raised her legs and placed them on his shoulders, he knew what she wanted. He entered her again, but in this position he was able to get deeper inside of her. Her outer lips cushioned the base of his cock on every down stroke, and then they opened up to welcome him in. 

Despite the attention she had given him, she was going to be the first to come. She could feel it building inside of her. By raising her legs she had guided him closer to her G-spot, and he was stroking it on every thrust. She lowered her legs from his shoulders and wrapped them around his upper waist, pulling him in closer. At every stroke she gave a little moan, and as she got closer, her eyes squeezed shut and her face contorted in an expression that looked to Michael like pain, but he knew that couldn't be the case. Not with the noises she was making. 


D'Orr's Ch. 2



-If you haven't read "D'orrs" this part might not make much sense. If you have, I apologize for the delay in getting "Part 2" posted. Hope you enjoy.-

* * * * *

It wasn't until Liz had walked up the stairs of the subway station that she realized just how many butterflies she really did have in her stomach. As she walked toward the restaurant, she wondered if anyone she passed on the sidewalk could tell what she was on her way to do – that she was on her way to her first trick as a part-time, well, there was no better word for it, hooker.

Liz stopped by a newsstand and picked up a copy of the Daily News. It was starting to become a habit with her, something to look at, but not really read, at the end of the day. It gave her something to take her mind off what she was really going to the restaurant for. And Charlotte had asked her to pick one up, so the person she was going to meet would have some means of identifying her. This was New York City, and the description "tall, attractive woman with a briefcase sitting at the bar" was almost a cliché. Not many that fit that description would stoop to read the News, instead trying to impress with Crain's, or the Journal or, at the very least, the Times. 

Liz still didn't believe no one could tell what she on her way to do, that no one could see into her mind, that every man on the street wasn't undressing her in his mind because he knew what she was going to be doing, the pleasure she was going to be bringing to someone that night, and the pleasure she was going to take for herself.

Approaching the restaurant, the butterflies in her stomach turned into a large flock of small birds. She was purposely arriving early, hoping a drink or two before he arrived would help to settle the queasiness. Liz stopped at the front of the restaurant and took a deep breath before pulling open the door. She strode purposefully to the bar, the din of many conversations, specials being explained and orders being given surprising her. It awoke her from her self-consciousness, but, still, she needed a very stiff drink.

Liz took a stool near the end of the bar, leaving one open at the end. As she was unfolding the paper the bartender asked for her order. "I'll have a scotch, a double please."

The bartender set her drink down, and Liz took a big sip, the heat from the amber liquid warming her insides, and sending some of the flock in her stomach fluttering off into the rafters of the restaurant. She flipped open a page of the paper and took another gulp. Having the paper in front of her, and something else to concentrate on beside herself, helped to calm her down some more. Flipping through she found the most outrageous play on words in a headline, and started reading that story, never really caring about it – just curious about the relationship between the story and the headline. She finished her drink and was thinking about what to get next, and was perplexed. "A what?" she thought to herself. "Just what is a hooker on her first job supposed to drink while waiting for her trick?" 

"I'll have a gin and tonic," she said. "A tall one." The bartender nodded his head and went about mixing the drink. He placed it in front of her and moved down the bar. Liz went back to reading her paper. 

"Excuse me, Leez?" Startled, Liz looked up at the man who had just spoken. He looked back at her with the quizzical eyes of complete and unabashed innocence. 

"Yes," was all she got out. She thought she recognized him, but couldn't be sure. He was certainly good-looking enough, if maybe a little young. Suddenly unsure of what she had done, she resisted a terrible urge to flee – flee the restaurant, flee the neighborhood, flee the city! Flee all of it! She couldn't believe she'd said she'd do this. Knowing she couldn't back out, but not knowing what to do next, she allowed her business instincts to kick in. She stood and put out her hand, realizing as she extended it she should have wiped it on something first. She could feel the clamminess on her palm, and almost regretted having done this.

He looked back at her and smiled. When he took her hand, she noticed his was cool and dry, and he shook her hand firmly, looking directly into her eyes. Whatever innocence she might have seen earlier completely disappeared. "My name ees Giovanni."

Liz looked back at him, ever more intrigued by his looks. She finally smiled and asked if she could order him a drink. Giovanni placed his hands on the bar and took the seat Liz had been saving for him. She glanced at his hands and smiled to herself, wondering if there was any truth to the old wives' tales linking finger and penis size. She turned and asked the bartender for his drink. 

Conversation started a little slow, not uncommon in all two blind dates Liz had ever been on, but after just a few minutes they seemed to find some common ground, other than the real issue at hand. Trained, Liz was able to carry on one conversation while thinking about something else, and she found herself unable to think about anything else but the size of his fingers. She squirmed in her seat. 

After some time, Giovanni asked, "Shall we leafe?" 

"Oh, yes," Liz replied, hoping she didn't sound too eager. They stood, and Giovanni waited for her to gather her things. He watched her walk a few steps, and then quickly caught up to her, placing his hand that held his coat on her shoulder. When they went through the door of the restaurant, a tall, stockily-built black man who was obviously waiting for them, opened the rear door of a limousine and held it open. Liz was a little surprised, and asked Giovanni if this was his car. 

"Ah, no," he replied, "eet ees Charlotte's." He paused for a second, and then asked "How long have you been working for her?"

"I've only met people at the hotel," Liz answered truthfully, hoping to mask her "rookie" status. A low hum broke the brief silence that followed, as the driver raised the smoked glass divider. It was only then that Liz noticed that the windows had been blacked out as well. She looked around, and back at Giovanni, and gave him a coquettish smile. She was stereotyping him, presuming that his obviously southern European heritage would be insulted if she made the first, inevitable move. She didn't have to wait long to find out she'd been correct. 

Giovanni closed what little distance there was between them, brushed her hair back from her neck and found the tendon that, to Liz, seemed to have a direct nerve connection to her pussy. It was only then that Liz realized that she must have been on edge for some time, for her panties were already well moistened. While Giovanni continued to minister to her neck, she took his hand from the back of the seat and proceeded to place each of his long, thick fingers in her mouth, slowly sucking each and every one of them in turn. When she got to his thumb, she worked that the most, taking all of it in, and working her tongue vigorously against the underside of his thumb as she drew it away from her mouth. 

Giovanni turned away from Liz and sat back against the seat, leaving his hand where it was so Liz could continue working on it. Liz reached out for his knee with her other hand and parted his legs, drawing her fingers up the inside of his thigh. When she reached the crotch of his pants, she only found his balls, and looked down. Even though he had on the high-waisted pleated pants so favored by the Europeans, she could see that his cockhead had gone past his belt. "So it might be true," she thought to herself. 

Liz deftly undid his belt with one hand, while with the other she squeezed and stroked the fingers of his hand. She pushed his cock to one side so she could undo the button of his pants, and slowly drew down his zipper. Parting his pants, she glanced down to see just what she was going to be dealing with. Liz slid her hand inside the slit of his boxers, and closed her hand, or rather, tried to close her hand, around his hardened shaft. 

"Oh!" Liz gasped, even though Giovanni was not even touching her. She couldn't close her fingers around him! She looked up at him, and he just smiled back, giving a little shrug of his shoulders. Liz released his hand and shifted in her seat so she could face him better. She reached down with her other hand and worked his cock out through the, what now seemed woefully inadequate, slit in his boxers. Liz almost could not believe what she was looking at. Her fingers that tried to encircle it missed touching by more than an inch. She was terrible at measuring things, but she knew she'd never had anything this large by a considerable margin. "And she was going to be putting this inside of her?" she asked herself.

* * * *

Liz made the turn at 96th Street and the FDR and started heading back downtown, the act of the turn breaking her reverie. She liked her Sunday morning runs along the East River. Her reminiscence of that first time with Giovanni warmed her from the inside, and she could feel her pussy lips sliding back and forth as she ran with more than just a little lubrication. She waved to the old man on the bench – she always waved to him, and had even stopped to talk with him a couple times. She smiled in the knowledge that he had no idea what she'd been thinking about, nor about the wetness between her legs. Thinking back again to her induction, her "rookie hooker night" as she called it to herself, she recalled picking up her skirt as she went to leave D'orrs that night, almost a year ago, and noticing the dark spot on the back, an almost perfect (). Since then she had always wondered if that was why Giovanni had covered her back with his coat as they left the restaurant. 

Giovanni had been large, and it took some work to get him inside of her. But once he was there, he filled her in places she didn't even know she had that craved to be touched, to be stretched, to be fucked. Liz smiled to herself, picking up the pace so she could get back to the apartment faster, so she could strip and get in the shower quicker, so she could take the shower head and….

While Liz had had many repeat customers over the last year, Giovanni was one customer she had occasionally requested of Charlotte. When she wanted, no, needed, to be filled like that, she would page Charlotte, reversing the normal course of contact. Charlotte had been surprised the first time Liz had called her, she told Liz later on. None of her girls were interested in taking on Giovanni a second time. Liz couldn't take him as a steady diet, but when the mood struck, she couldn't get enough of him.

After her shower, in the afterglow of a good run, Liz recalled the gathering at D'orrs that had been scheduled for late this afternoon. It was unusual for Charlotte to call her directly and Liz wondered exactly what was going on. Charlotte had asked her to meet at D'orrs, and had told her that most of the other girls were going to be there as well. It had been just over a year since Liz had started on her part-time occupation, and it had been very fruitful for her and, she presumed, for Charlotte as well. Liz had had the most requests for repeat business of any of the girls over the last year, and Charlotte had rewarded her with a significant cash bonus just over a month ago.

In addition, her law career had gone pretty well over the last year also. Patent law was a little slow moving at times, but it could be financially rewarding, and Liz had seen some very interesting new ideas come her way. Her assistant, Susan, had picked up a considerable amount of the grunt work, freeing up Liz's time to curry favor with several of the firm's clients. She'd been able to use those contacts, as well as some of her grad school friends; to start developing relationships with what she hoped would be new clients of the firm. The small, boutique nature of the firm she worked for lent itself well to entrepreneurship among the few younger associates there were. 

Although it was only early fall, the sky had already lightened the way it does when you realize that, no matter what, winter was on its way. Charlotte had said to come dressed as you are, that this was just an informal gathering, so Liz was in her jeans, sneakers and a man's button-down shirt.

Liz walked up the stairs and Michael greeted her at the door with his usual smile. "Everyone's out back in the garden," he said. 

"Are you coming out, too?"

"I already know what it's about, and it mostly doesn't involve me, so I'm just going to watch the door."

Liz sidled up to him, and gave him a playfully suggestive smile, "You wouldn't want to tell me what it is now, would you?"

Michael laughed, grabbed her arms, turned her around and pointed her toward the hallway leading to the back. "There are some drinks already out there for everyone."

Liz struggled to free her arms from Michael's grasp. "Spoilsport!" she called back over her shoulder. She walked to the end of the hall and opened the door to the garden. She was surprised to see so many of the girls, her "co-workers" as she occasionally liked to think of them. Charlotte only had about 12 girls working for her, and it looked like most were there. She waved to the Swedish sisters, the "blonde-bombshells" Liz called them to herself. Anika and Erika were twins, but not identical twins. All the women were tall, at least 5'8", and Liz enjoyed being in their company, but it was so seldom that they got together all at once.

Liz walked over to Charlotte and they shook hands. Liz was never comfortable with the whole air-kiss idea, and knew Charlotte didn't like it either. Then she went over to the table with the drinks on it and helped herself. It was late Sunday afternoon, the weather was gorgeous and here was a nice little outdoor party just a block from her apartment. Could life get any better?

After a few minutes Charlotte tapped on her glass, and the girls gathered round, some standing, some sitting in the chairs around the drink table. Wasting no time, Charlotte began. "This is not entirely a social occasion, but I guess you probably already figured that out. I've had an unusual request and I wanted to present it to all of you for your consideration.

"One of my very first clients is having a party in the Hampton's in about a month. He is no longer a client, but that was by his choice, not mine. He married, and he married well. His wife is extremely attractive. They have a large place out there, very, very large, and, like I said, they are having a party. They are looking for models for the party."

The girls looked at each other, their eyes all asking the same question – "So, what?" - but Charlotte continued, not giving them a chance to voice it. "The reason they came to me has to do with the theme of the party, which they're concerned may call attention to them if they were to go to a regular modeling agency. The them of party is 'Isle of Lesbos.'" The girls looked at one another, but waited for Charlotte to continue, while she hesitated to gauge their reaction before going on.

"They, and I mean both of them, are working with a designer of some sort on this party. He is on the up and up, but what they're looking for is fairly specific. From what I understand so far, the designer wants to pair up some girls, live models, and pose them in an area of the house as part of the decoration.

"The reason they didn't feel comfortable going to a regular modeling agency is that some of the poses are going to be pretty graphic. Actually, that's just one of the reasons.

"Another reason I found out on my own. The parties this couple has often have some kind of sexual overtone to them. What usually happens toward the end of the evening is that some guests go home, and some stay. I don't think I have to explain any more.


"The pay for this, for you, is high - $10,000 for the modeling part. I don't know what goes on after that, but I do care. I cannot vouch for these people in any manner. I would strongly prefer it if none of you would get involved in any of the late night activities. It's selfish, yes, but I'm protecting my investment, and it protects you as well. Some of the usual guests at these parties are pretty fast and loose with their bodies, and heaven only knows what they're carrying around with them. I will not tell you 'no', but…," she let her voice trail off and the conversations begin. 

The girls looked at one another and started talking amongst themselves. Several winked at each other, and some moved closer to one another. Some were in, without any questions, but Liz hesitated. Not since law school had she been with a woman, and she'd been more that a little drunk when that happened, and that was the only time. She just wasn't sure what was required or even how she'd react. She'd never posed before, let alone naked - there were just too many questions. Unlike her usual work for Charlotte, she wasn't sure if she'd like this or not. Then she remembered the money - $10,000 for several hours posing naked in close quarters with another woman? Not having to do anything afterwards? She'd certainly give it some thought. 

"I don't need an answer today, but I do need one by the middle of the week. If you have questions please feel free to call me any time. Oh, and there will be a costume, something like a thong and a short wrap to go over that. The designer is coming up with those. Also, there will be masks, like Lone Ranger's, part of the mystique, and partly to protect your identities. I cannot say who will be there, and I thought it might be best if, should you agree, that there was some anonymity for you. I suggested this in a way that the designer thought it was his idea, and he loved it."

Everyone started talking at once. Liz remained quiet, and a little aloof. Charlotte came over to her and asked if anything was the matter. Liz hesitated, and then told Charlotte of her trepidation. "I've never really been with a girl before. I don't know what to do, or even how I will react."

Charlotte laughed. "It's not a live sex show!" A couple of the girls heard this and turned toward them, looking a little disappointed. "They're just poses, and some will be more suggestive than others. That's all."

"Oh, one more thing. I will be there," she continued, "as one of the models."

Liz thought about it for a couple of days, and, while she was a little nervous about the idea, for the money, she thought she'd be able to get over her trepidation. Tuesday evening she stopped by to tell Charlotte she'd go along. 

"That's wonderful, Liz," Charlotte smiled. "I'll let you know when we're meeting to go out there."

* * * * *

The girls from D'orrs arrived in two stretch limos. A total of eight had volunteered, including Charlotte. The designer was looking for 12, so four more had been recruited from somewhere else. He eyed the girls from D'orrs as they entered the bathhouse, making up in his mind who was going to be paired off with whom. The two blondes that looked like twins were definitely going together. When he looked at Liz's classic body, he motioned to one of the other girls to come over. He picked one shorter than Liz, with a fuller body, larger, rounder breasts, full hips and a nicely rounded derriere and blonde hair that looked suspiciously unnatural. Charlotte approached a strikingly beautiful black woman, and it was apparent they knew each other. The designer watched them, and motioned them together. but it was apparent he didn't really have a choice in that matter. After a couple more switches all the girls were paired off. With a wave he led them to the glass-walled walkway that connected to the part of the house where the party was. 

Along the walkway, six lounges had been placed on individual platforms, elevating them a foot or so off the floor. The track lighting was situated to spotlight each of the platforms. When he first walked down he just pointed to one pair of girls and told them to go to this dais or that one. At the fourth one, he selected Liz and her partner. They had not spoken as of yet, and silently made their way to the sofa. At the last platform he posed Charlotte and her partner, and made his way back, posing each pair of girls in such a way that merely suggested comfort with one another. When he got to Liz, he made her sit on the sofa, her legs crossed like a perfect lady, and posed her partner kneeling on the sofa, facing Liz, one hand on Liz's neck, the other hand on Liz's breast. The designer stood back a minute, then took the hand on Liz's breast and parted two fingers. The attention sent Liz's nipple darting between the slightly separated fingers. Satisfied, the designer moved on to the next pair. 




D'Orr's Ch. 2



"You really do have perfect breasts," Liz's partner whispered to her. Liz's heart skipped a beat. Did she recognize the voice?! She knew she didn't recognize the person, but the voice? She racked her brain, not wanting to speak, trying to figure out who it was. Her heart was thumping. Hoarsely she whispered back, "Thank you." 

The guests started arriving, entering at the end of the breezeway and, slowly making their way toward the house, taking considerable time to admire the beautiful, masked women in their white, half-tunics, on display. Liz and her partner remained perfectly still, and Liz quickly got used to the idea that another woman was, in effect, tweaking her nipple, although no motion could be detected from more than a few feet away. Liz's nipples, both of them, remained hard throughout the beginning of the evening.

Once it seemed that everyone had arrived, and they were all in the house enjoying themselves, the designer came back into the breezeway and repositioned everyone. The twins, Anika and Erika, had been simply standing, holding hands. Now the designer had them embrace, with each pair of hands obviously holding the other's bottom, but hidden by the white cloth of the wraps. By the time he got to Liz and her partner, he placed them in a '69' position on the lounge, with Liz on top. He made sure her partner's wrap was bunched up around its waistband, and parted her legs a little wider. Liz's heart started beating faster, for she found herself for the first time she could really remember, looking directly at the mound of another woman's pussy, only inches away, and concealed only by the thin white material of her thong. As Liz became more sensitive to the position she was in, she began to feel the warm, moist air exhaled by her partner against her inner thighs. 

The party made a trip, or two or three, back through the breezeway to admire the "statues," and there were plenty of comments made by both the women and the men as to the virtues of both the models and the poses they were in. Liz didn't dare lift her head to look at any of these people, but instead, found herself staring at what was directly in front of her eyes. Slowly, without Liz even realizing it, the clean, bright white of her partner's thong had turned to a washed-out gray, and, for just a second, Liz wondered what had caused that, when a smell wafted up to her nose. It was a familiar musky scent, one she had noticed on her own fingers countless times, the scent of a woman aroused, of a woman in search of physical pleasure. Liz was transfixed, not so much with lust at this point, as with curiosity, noting everything in a clinical manner, as if she were in a medical school class. This was something new to her, and she pretended, at least to herself, that she could remain detached from what was unfolding before her eyes. 

The party continued carrying on in the main part of the house. The band was playing and almost no one had walked through the breezeway for some time. Then the designer came through. "Last pose, ladies! I hope you'll enjoy it!" He makes his way down the line, rearranging everyone in even significantly more suggestive poses than before. As he approaches Liz's lounge, she sees he's carrying something with him. He gives her a strap-on with an impossibly large black dildo on the front. Never having owned even a vibrator, Liz was a little taken aback. Her partner smiles but says nothing. Liz could see the glaze in her partner's eyes, even through the masks they have on. Liz fumbles with the straps as she puts it on, her hands shaking a little bit. As she gets it adjusted, she discovers that on the underside is something molded just so, to give her a little pleasure as well. She adjusts it, so it settles against her comfortably.

The designer has her partner get on all fours, and he positions Liz behind her. Again, he bunches up the wrap of her partner, but this time he exposes her backside, with only the thong dividing the darkly tanned mounds of her buttocks. Liz knelt behind her, the tip of the strap-on pointed at the now grayish-white material covering her partner's pussy. He stands back, folds his arms and comments, "If I wasn't so frigging gay, that would drive me crazy." Liz's partner turns her head around and smiles at Liz.

He moves down the line, and for the first time Liz really notices Charlotte at the end of the line. The contrast between Charlotte and her black partner is captivating. The designer intertwines their limbs, while they are standing, giving a striking effect. Liz admires what she can see of Charlottes' body, but the black woman Charlotte is paired with captivates her. 

Liz and her partner stay in that position for ten minutes, then 20, and finally a small crowd from the party has gathered in front of them, admiring the beauty of the two women and the sensuality – no, raw sexuality – of the pose they're in. Liz's breasts are standing up nicely, her nipples hard in the slightly cool air of the walkway, her hips accentuated by the low-slung belt of the strap-on. Moving just her eyes, she glances down at her partner, and notices that, somehow, without Liz having noticed, her partner has somehow slid her thong to one side. The elastic in the material pushes back, accentuating her partner's clean-shaven pussy, giving it a pouty look. 

Her partner, remembering she is there only to pose, but not able to resist any longer, ever so subtly shifts her hips backwards. Liz feels this and braces herself so she doesn't move. Liz glances down. The head of the strap-on was pressing against her partner, but had not yet entered her. Liz's hands had been placed on her partners hips, and slowly, she hoped imperceptibly, she inched forward, and felt the head pop into her partner. Her partner breathed a very heavy sigh, and pulled forward just a bit, then back to get it settled. Moving only her eyes, Liz looked down and saw that the bulbous head of the dildo had disappeared. In its place were her partner's dark red outer pussy lips, and the shiny bright pink of her inner lips forming a tight ring around the black dildo. The harsh white light from the halogen track lighting reflected sharply in the glistening wetness that was left on the dildo. The sight in front of her, and the slight pressure on her mons from the apparatus finally took effect on Liz. After a couple hours of being naked, admired, watched and watching, she finally abandoned the clinical poise she'd tried to adopt, and started feeling the familiar heat beginning to dissipate from her pussy. 

Liz noticed out of the corner of her eye that there were two women standing watching her and her partner. With her hand on her partner's hip, Liz gave a slight nudge with her middle finger. Her partner took the cue and slid back further onto the dildo. Liz saw one of the women watching them absent-mindedly rub her own pussy. Looking down, Liz saw that there was still about 2/3 of the dildo still exposed. She was fascinated by the view of her partner's pussy being split open, by the lights reflected on the black, plastic cock mounted on her front, by her partner's slightly brown puckered bud. Even though it had been ten years since she'd been with a woman, and Liz never really thought that counted, right now it was something she desired more than anything. Another draft coming through the room brought the sweet, musky scent of an aroused woman to her nose. 

The two women watching took a step closer. Liz signaled again with her middle finger and her partner slid back some more. But this time, Liz met her thrust, sending the entire remaining length inside her partner, who immediately gasped. So did one of the women watching. Liz still held perfectly still, her hips snug against the round ass of her partner, who wasn't moving either. But Liz could tell she was working the dildo with her own muscles - squeezing, releasing, squeezing, releasing, faster and faster! Liz could feel the slight pull and push through the strap-on, but no still there was no sign of any movement. Squeeze! Release! Squeeze! Release! Liz knew her partner had to cum soon. She braced herself to take her partner's weight. Squeeze! Release! Squeeze! Release! And then…nothing. Not a sound was uttered, not a sigh, not a breath too loud. Her partner's head just dropped, and she sagged back into Liz.

Liz was startled by the sound of running feet and looked up to see the two women running for the party room, or, more likely, someplace beyond the party room. Liz was ready to leave and she looked around, swiveling her head freely for the first time in hours. She pulled back and looked down as the strap-on slid out of her partner. The lights were almost reflected perfectly in the glistening wetness covering the dildo. There was a dark spot on the covering of the lounge. The other girls were starting to move around as well. 

Liz's partner weakly lifted her head, and made to remove her mask. With a shake of her head, Liz motioned her to keep it on and stepped toward her. Her partner looked up at Liz as they stepped closer, and then they kissed. A long, slow, after-sex kiss, each tongue lazily exploring the other. They pulled apart and Liz's partner opened her mouth to speak, but Liz put her finger to her lips.

Even though she hadn't really done anything, Liz was exhausted. She fell into one of the limos and almost immediately fell asleep, not waking till the car stopped in front of D'orrs. She almost rolled out of the back and, still half asleep, walked up the block to her apartment. It was almost 4am Sunday morning. She slept till sometime after noon. 

When she awoke, she still felt in a daze. Whatever had happened last night had drained her, and strangely, left her in anticipation, like a little kid who went to sleep December 23rd convinced it was Christmas Eve, and waking to find out there was a whole other day to wait. But, wait for what? That was what Liz couldn't really put her finger on. She was still concerned about the voice. She knew she knew the voice but just couldn't place it. Did she want to see that girl again? She was quite sure that wasn't the case. 

But, as the day wore on, it eventually started to come to her. She wanted to try once, just once, being with another woman. It was never a thought that disgusted her; she'd just been concentrating on men. With what she'd seen the other night, there could be a whole other dimension to this sex thing than just men. How would you go about picking up a woman? In this day and age, it probably wasn't as difficult as it had been, and this city was probably one of the easier places, but how would you even get started? Then she thought, "Hell, I've got resources at the office! Well, not the law office, the other office!" 

It was after dinnertime, but Liz hadn't really been hungry anyway. She quickly dressed and walked over to D'orrs. Using her key to let herself in, she found the usual Sunday night crowd of Michael tending the bar. He was so used to seeing her there on Sundays he usually didn't order anything to eat till he saw her come in. 

"Hello there! Long night last night?" Michael asked.

"Completely drained me, and I don't even know why," Liz covered up. "I didn't even have anything to drink. I could never do that for a living, being a model I mean."

"I haven't ordered anything to eat yet. Would you like to join me, as usual?"

"Not tonight. I'm really just not hungry. Can I have a cranberry juice though?"

"Coming right up. Something on your mind?"

"Not really. Is Charlotte around?"

"I think she's in her quarters, but I don't think she's that interested in being disturbed. It is her day off you know." 

"I know, I just had one quick thing I wanted to ask her."

"I'll give her a quick buzz. If she answers, fine. If not, will you stay and have something to eat with me?"

"I still might not eat…."

"I've never seen you without an appetite," Michael teased.

"I'll at least keep you company – that's my best offer."

Michael buzzed, and to his surprise, Charlotte answered almost immediately. He explained that Liz was downstairs and had a question for her. "I think it's personal, she's acting a little weird," Michael confided quietly to her. 

Charlotte came down the stairs, dressed in what looked like only a robe and looking a little rumpled, her hair slightly tousled and her eyes tired but alight. Liz was so used to seeing her look perfect that this was totally out of character for her. Charlotte could see the surprise on Liz's face. 

"Hi, Liz. Did you get enough rest after last night? I know you slept the whole way back."

"I got enough rest for today. Listen, can we talk in private?" Michael heard this and took it as his cue to call in his dinner order from the back room. Without a word he took the take-out menu and walked to the back. 

"Charlotte, I think I told you I'd only been with one other girl in my life, and that I was pretty drunk when that happened."

"I hope last night wasn't too much for you!"

"NO! No it wasn't. Actually, in fact, I think it's given me an itch. An itch I think I'd like to scratch, but I just didn't know how to reach it. Then I thought, I could maybe, well, you know, maybe take on one of the other clients, to, uh, see about scratching that itch."

"Liz, darling. I understand." Charlotte paused. "I don't want to hurt your feelings, but this is a business. We don't send rookies into the game here, if you know what I mean."

Liz looked at the floor, a little upset, kind of angry, but mostly hurt. "'Rookie' she called me?" she thought to herself. "Rookie???"

"However," Charlotte continued, "usually where there's a will, there's a way. And it's not like the major leagues. There are some things about women that you probably know, but sometimes it takes a little practice. Are you saying you just wanted to practice, to see if it's something you'd like to do on a, shall we say, professional level?"

Liz looked directly at Charlotte. "Yes, I do think this is something I'd at least like to try."

Equally direct, Charlotte replied, "Well, then, why don't you come upstairs with me? I have some things I can show you to help you get started."

Liz tried to maintain her composure. But it was difficult, oh so difficult. She was speechless, stammering, and stranded – all feelings Liz had little experience with came flooding forth. She got along so well with Charlotte because she was so direct, but this was totally unexpected. While she knew wanted to try this, she was also not prepared for this to happen so soon. She had always thought Charlotte a beautiful woman, Liz had never thought of Charlotte in this manner. But working for her, and their friendship, she didn't want to jeopardize any of it. As she was standing there, doing an uncharacteristic imitation of a guppy, Michael came back into the room. 

"Michael," Charlotte began, "Liz won't be eating with you tonight. I'm sorry. But would you mind checking in on us before you turn in for the night, just in case there's anything we need?"

Michael smiled to himself. He knew what could be in store for him later. "Of course. Liz, I'm sorry you won't be joining me, but maybe we can catch up on things later." 

For the first time in her life that she could remember, Liz was feeling an out of body experience, that she suddenly had lost all control, that others were taking over her physical being and leading her to do something, something that might have only been a fleeting whim, but now - RIGHT NOW - was beginning to become reality. She felt lightheaded as Charlotte took her hand and led her up the stairs. Her mouth went from being dry as toast to completely salivating. Her heartbeat went from mildly elevated to pounding in her chest. And Liz had no control.

Charlotte lightly rapped on the door to her apartment before entering. Liz was still too dazed for this to register. As they entered, Charlotte called out "Jennifer, we have a guest for the evening. This is Liz."

There were several candles burning in the room and no lights were on, and it took a moment for Liz's eyes to adjust. She took a step forward, and out of the darkness came the black woman she had seen Charlotte with at the party the other night. She was completely naked, her milk chocolate skin picking up the flickering light of the candles. Although Charlotte had seen her nearly naked before, it was only now that she had a close enough view to appreciate the athletic build of this black Amazon slowly walking toward her, her uplifted breasts jutting out, tipped with darker brown areolas and hardened, smallish nipples, her hips sashaying so sensuously that Liz felt her own pussy gush. Jennifer smiled as she approached Liz, taking her hand and, saying nothing, bringing it to her lips to kiss it. Jennifer broke the longish kiss and said quietly, "I've heard you were beautiful." 

Unable to speak, Liz found herself staring at Jennifer, looking her up and down, admiring the swell of her hips, the shapely, muscle-toned thighs, her high waist. Liz continued to stand there, still feeling like she was watching this whole thing from above. She heard a muffled "flumph" behind her, but this didn't immediately register in her spinning mind. Through her thin shirt, Liz felt something, two somethings actually, begin to press against her shoulder blades. She flinched a little when realized it was Charlotte's breasts. Without a word, Charlotte stroked up and down both sides of Liz, from her shoulders downward, following the curves of a woman, the indentation of her waist, the widening of her hips, the taper of her upper thighs. Jennifer knelt in front of her, as Charlotte's hands reached around and cupped Liz's breasts, her thumbs and forefingers lightly toying with Liz's nipples through her shirt, rolling them around and around, bringing them to attention and sending even more blood rushing to her clit. Liz tipped her head back, and Charlotte, knowing exactly what she was looking for, began to lightly bite the stretched tendon in her neck. Liz was vaguely aware of her pants being wriggled over her hips, past her knees and left to puddle around her feet. She felt fingers stretching the elastic of her panties, and those too, ended up in the pile now covering her feet. 

For the first time in her life, Liz became submissive. She submitted to the unbuttoning of her shirt and the unclasping of her bra. She submitted to one pair of hands that were working their way inside her bra and to the other pair of hands that were spreading her legs, even as she stood there. She submitted to the lips and tongues that began caressing her skin, to the pressure of Charlotte's breasts at her back. This purely physical encounter was taken to a completely different level of eroticism for Liz by the slender, female fingers that were working their way all over her, exploring every curve, every bump, every fold of skin. A female's long, manicured fingernail raked along the inside of her thigh, and Liz involuntarily thrust her hips forward, only to be met by a woman's pointed tongue at the height of her thrust. She submitted to being led to the bedroom and laid out on the bed. And, finally, Liz submitted when Charlotte straddled her, and lowered her hips toward Liz's head.

As Liz became more comfortable with this new situation, she became less passive and more aggressive. Jennifer, beautiful, buttery, chocolate brown Jennifer was laying on the bed. Liz took a couple pillows and had her lift her hips so Jennifer's pussy was pointed up in the air. Liz crawled between her legs on all fours, and leaning on her elbows began to explore Jennifer with her tongue. Jennifer smiled down at her, then closed her eyes and enjoyed Liz toying with her outer lips, the occasional involuntary thrust telling Liz that she was doing something right. Liz parted Jennifer's outer lips with her tongue, searching for little hard button she so wanted to pleasure. Still on her knees and elbows, Liz found it, and, making a perfect 'O' with her tongue, surrounded it and began sucking on it. Jennifer thrust toward Liz's face, and Liz caught her on the thrust and held her ass off the pillows while she continued working Jennifer's clit. She felt the bed move, but was so involved in what she was doing that it didn't register until she felt someone's hands on her hips, a man's hands. She turned to look, and in the low light of the candles, the only thing that registered was that they weren't Michael's hands. They were much larger, a little rougher, and they were black, blue-black, the same color as Carl, the driver, the bouncer, the protector of all the women of D'orrs. She turned further around and saw him positioning himself to enter her, she felt him nudge the entrance, felt him rubbing his cockhead up and down her slit, searching the exact place to plunge in. He found it, and Liz was pushed forward with his momentum. She strained to see him over her back. Charlotte noticed this and untangled herself from the assorted limbs on the bed and rolled over a floor-length tilt mirror from the corner of the room. She positioned it so Liz could easily see Carl entering her, and leaving her – "Don't leave me!" she thought, and then he entered her again. Liz remembered Jennifer, and with a wicked grin on her face, leaned forward on her elbows again to start anew her ministrations on Jennifer, leaving her ass high in the air as Carl, impressive, stoic Carl, continued to slowly pump into her. Liz awoke late on Monday morning, and went to the bathroom to get showered. She glanced in the mirror and saw several flakes of what looked like dried skin on her cheeks and chin. Slowly at first, and then with a rush, she recalled the night before. She remembered Charlotte, and Jennifer, and, was Carl the driver involved? Step by step it continued to come back to her. She'd been sandwiched between Carl and Jennifer, and did Michael show up? She didn't know what to think of it, but the word 'hedonistic' certainly came to mind, along with sore. It didn't bother Liz – she'd enjoyed it, all of it, and wanted to do it again. She languished in the shower, taking her time to clean herself thoroughly, but gently. She was a little tender from the night before. 




D'Orr's Ch. 2



* * * * 

Two new accounts had been won by the firm, one of them Liz's, and things became very busy at the office. Both Liz and Susan started putting in long hours. Sometime during the week after the Hampton's party she found herself watching Susan walking back toward her desk from Liz's office. "Nice derriere," Liz said to herself, imagining how Susan would look naked. Liz was startled by this, for this was not the idle, passing thought of one woman about another, but one that she took to heart. Liz was reminded of her modeling partner that night, how full and round that woman's figure had been, and she couldn't help but make a comparison. In an instant her pulse quickened and her mouth became dry. Liz was surprised at herself, for this was something that seldom happened to her. She was typically very much in control, and had no idea why this was happening. She stood and briskly walked down the long hall and back. By the time she reached her office door her phone was ringing, and she became thankful for the distractions of the office. But she was also aware of a change in herself, that her little 'part-time hooker' job that was supposed to be providing her a distraction from her real job, was having more of an effect on her than she'd intended. She was finding herself more and more dependent on her law career to distract her from thinking about sex.

It was more than two weeks before Liz heard from Charlotte, and, the way things had been going at the office, she hadn't even really had time to miss it. But then, at the end of a long day, she reached into her bag to get something, and could feel the buzzing of the pager. No longer in a cubicle, and not nearly as self-conscious as she'd been a year ago, she pulled out the pager and read the number. Not realizing till then that it had been over two weeks since she'd been out at all, she welcomed this opportunity. She grabbed her wallet and on the way out asked Susan if she'd like a coffee, which she did. Heading down the elevator, she felt as though she was heading for a vacation, instead of a coffee for cover, and just a simple phone call. 

Charlotte answered on the first ring, "Hello. This is Charlotte." 

"Hi there, it's Liz. You rang?"

"Ah, yes. Do you have a minute to talk?"

"Sure, what's up?"

"I have a new type of client for you. It's actually two clients – a man and his wife."

Liz hesitated a second. Was she really going to be sent out on a call like this? "Oohhhkaaayyy," she drawled out.

"This is not entirely new to them, nor are they new clients, but they do like to experience different women. I thought you might be interested, but there is one thing they like to do first. They like to go to a gentleman's club, a strip joint, before they return here. Is this something you'd be interested in?"

"Charlotte, I've never been to one of those places. I wouldn't know…."

Charlotte laughed. "It was wrong of me to characterize it as a 'strip joint.' Parts of it are really quite nice, and it's a place I recommend should the situation arise. You just need to be able to get to the right part of the club."

"I'll trust you on this. Charlotte."

"Good! Do you want to meet Carl near here, and he can take you there? The couple will already be there. Makes the first meeting a little less awkward."

"That's fine. Can I meet Carl about 8?"

"Perfect. He'll see you then. Just wear what you have on."

Liz dropped the phone back onto the receiver and got on line for the coffees, looking around to see if anyone had heard the conversation. Of course, no one had, because no one had been listening in, but Liz still found herself wondering if anyone could tell.

Liz returned to the office and she and Susan went back to work, researching, reading and jotting down notes. Liz kept an eye on the clock, and, like waiting for a test to start, wasn't sure if she wanted time to go faster or slower. Finally, the hands of the clock in the library settled in on 7:30. Liz leaned back, closing the book she'd been working her way through. "I've gotten my twelve hours in for the day. I think I'm gonna pick up and leave."

"Thank goodness," Susan responded. "I've got a late date and I didn't want to have to cancel again."

"Well, good for you. I think I'm just going home to a hot bath," Liz lied. 

They both stood, leaving the books where they lay, knowing they'd be back at them before anyone else showed up the next morning. Susan led the way out, and Liz found herself watching Susan's ass as she followed her out. 

"Share a cab uptown?" Liz suggested. 

"Uh, actually I'm going the other way." They rode down the elevator in near silence, the long day having taken its toll on both of them. 

"Okay, I'll see you in the morning then. G'night."

"'Night, Liz."

They both got cabs right away, and Liz was whisked uptown, and got out on the avenue, a crosstown block plus a little bit from D'orrs. She saw the limo parked out front and as she walked up to it, Carl got out and opened the rear door for her, always and ever the gentleman.

Carl drove the short distance and pulled up in front of a nightclub with more than its fair share of chrome, brass and smoked glass on the front of the entrance. He parked across the street, got out and opened Liz's door, giving her a hand over the door to assist her. Liz felt a little spoiled. Carl closed the door, pressed the button on the key ring in his pocked and Liz heard the door locks lower into the locked position. Obviously, Carl was coming inside with her. 

As they approached the entrance, the doormen, or bouncers really, all deferred to Carl. He picked one, gave him the key ring and a folded bill. Liz couldn't tell how much it was, but assumed it was more than the couple of bucks she gave the guys at the parking garage. No words were spoken, but the door was held open for them and they entered. 

Liz's hearing was assaulted by the music coming from beyond the entranceway. Carl had a couple words with one of the bouncers on the inside, they chuckled with one another and the two of them were waived through. It was obvious Carl was known at this place, and Liz wondered what other things she didn't really know about him. 

Carl followed her through the door, and the music became incredibly loud. Liz stopped a few steps in, her eyes adjusting to low lighting, which was contrasted by the lights on the stage and the few dim lights around the bar area. She couldn't believe how many little tables had been crammed into this little area, each with at least 2 men at them, some watching the stage, others trying to keep their hands off the girls dancing right in front of them. Liz began looking at the women, and was amazed at the amount of silicone that was out on the floor. The music was deafening, the chrome, brass and glass not anything like what Liz had been expecting, and she found herself pulling on Carl's hand to lead him back out of there. 

He turned to her, and gave a comforting squeeze to her hand. Carl, strong, quiet Carl, was protecting her yet again. The longer they stood there, the more time the customers had a chance to notice them, and the sight of a tall, slender, sort of blonde woman with an even taller, don't-fuck-with-me-built black man began to draw more attention than either of them wanted. Liz, wanting to go, and Carl, pulling her further in. He stopped and leaned back to speak directly in her ear. "It's okay. It's a different place out back. If you don't like it, we'll leave. Okay?"

Liz looked up at him and nodded. They threaded their way through the crowd, but with Carl leading, they didn't have to squeeze through. Liz was aware of the looks she was getting from some of the "patrons", but found she didn't care. Carl paused at a doorway with a sign above it, "Champagne Room." He opened the door and yet another bouncer materialized out of nowhere to challenge him. At the sight of Carl, he simply smiled and stepped aside. The music here was significantly toned down, enough so that some of the table dancers, in various stages of undress, were actually talking with the customers in here. The lighting was better, and the women seemed more attractive. They continued through this room, to yet another door. 

As this door closed behind them, Liz was aware that she could no longer hear the music from out front. It was quiet. Several women passed them in the wide hall, and Carl continued to lead, stopping a short distance down and knocking on one of the doors. A woman opened the door, a strikingly beautiful woman dressed only in a white corset and stockings, and Carl stepped aside. Liz took her cue and entered the room, turning in time to only see Carl assume a position outside the room. She started to feel nervous again, until the woman at the door took her hand and led her to the extra large, overstuffed sofa that was facing a fireplace in the wall. There were still some mirrors around, but the music was much more subdued than all she'd heard that night. 


The couple she was to meet was sitting on the sofa, one nearly naked girl between the two of them. It was clear this girl had the attention of the wife, but as Liz approached, the husband changed his mind as his eyes settled on Liz. His wife noticed this, and followed his look. Liz regained her composure immediately, and pulled herself a little more upright. She couldn't have done this outside, but in here, she felt a little more in her element. She walked up to them and leaned over and kissed the woman full on the mouth. Then she leaned over and kissed the husband the same way. "I'm Liz."

The girl on the sofa got up, and realizing her immediate duties were done, gathered her one-piece dress and walked behind the sofa. The girl in the corset came over to take Liz's drink order. Liz sat on the outside of the woman, not wanting, quite yet anyway, to be the center of attention. They introduced themselves, and settled back as another girl came in to do a lap dance for all of them. Less constrained by the music "timers" out front, these girls could take all the time they wanted, and she made sure to give equal attention to all. Liz, watching the girl slide herself up and down the couple, making sure no body part went untouched by any of her body parts, found herself aroused in a way she'd never felt before. She found herself thinking back to that party in the Hampton's.

When the girl got to Liz, she put her arms on the back of the sofa and pressed her body against Liz's, her breath hot on Liz's neck. Liz flashed back to Charlotte pressing up against her from behind, her breath on Liz's neck just before she suckled Liz's neck. Liz put her hands on the girl's hips, pulling her closer to her own pelvis. The girl continued to gyrate, to writhe, and to slither, all within Liz's grasp. The couple was riveted, and never took their eyes off the two of them. Liz's nipples were straining to split the skin that held them together, her panties were dampening rapidly, and she wondered if she'd be able to wait till they got back to D'orrs. And, she liked this girl. She wanted to take her back with them. And then the music changed. Liz got the girl to take a seat between the woman and herself, and was starting to make small talk with her, when, it became apparent, another girl was coming in to dance for them.

Liz was so concentrating on the girl next to her that she didn't pay any attention to the next girl that started to dance. She didn't that is, until the girl took off the short, white, pleated, Romanesque skirt and dropped it on the coffee table in front of them. Liz saw it out of the corner of her eye, and slowly turned to look, not really wanting to see. She started at the new dancer's legs – curvy, not athletic, moved up to her ass, her nicely shaped, round, tan all over ass that was split by a thread of a white thong that went up her crack, to her fuller, well-defined hips, and as she turned to face them again, the round, full breasts of…shit! SHIT! THIS CAN'T BE FUCKING HAPPENING! SHIT! SHIT! SHIT!!!

Liz almost lost it. Susan, her assistant, her partner from the Hampton's, did not. She simply leaned forward and whispered in Liz's ear, "I knew it was you."



D'Orr's



Liz started trembling. She pulled her arms toward herself and wrapped her legs tighter around Michael. He pulled all the way out and gave a final thrust that was for her, not for him. Liz grabbed him with both arms; her legs wrapped around him and held him down while her hips started convulsing against him. He could feel the walls of her pussy convulsing, squeezing and releasing his cock. She wasn't a screamer, but he'd never had a woman who had such an outwardly physical orgasm. The sight and feel of her pleasure triggered Michael's reflexes, and he pulled out just one more time and thrust in, this time for him. As Liz felt him entering her again, this time she consciously squeezed, released, and as he came to a stop, she squeezed again, timing it perfectly with his ejaculation. She felt the first hot squirt of his come, the pulsing of his vein, and that triggered a second, less intense but not less satisfying, orgasm of her own.

Liz was spent. After they disentangled, she just lay there, while Michael lightly caressed her. She'd thoroughly enjoyed this. She got up and went into the bathroom. Michael watched her all the way, spent as well, but thoughtful, too. He still had this same pensive look on his face when she came back out. Liz noticed. "Is something wrong?" she asked.

"Oh no, quite the contrary. I've just never been with a woman who seemed to so thoroughly enjoy this."

"Already comparing me to other women?" Liz asked playfully. "Want me to compare you to other men?"

"I am sorry. It was just extremely enjoyable."

"Well, it was very enjoyable for me also. It had been some time," Liz said.

"I find that very hard to believe, a woman as attractive as you."

"I work too much, and don't get to meet many people outside my group. Those I do meet don't do much for me. I've never been able to get really involved anyway, which is a shame, because I really do enjoy this."

Michael looked straight at her, trying to see if there was anything hidden in these words. He didn't see anything. 

Liz reached for her clothes and started getting dressed. "You must go?" Michael asked. 

"I still must go to work in the morning. I know it's still a little early, but I might need an extra hour of rest after this little workout." Her pants on, but her shirt still unbuttoned, she leaned over the bed and kissed him. He reached up and cupped her breast. They kissed, then she leaned back to finish dressing. "Can I let myself out?"

"Yes, there is a button on the stand that opens the lock."

At the door, she turned to look back at him. "Thank you. I needed that." Michael smiled at her – he really did have a very nice smile, she thought.

Then she was gone. Michael waited for the sound of the door closing. He waited a minute longer, then got up and wrapped a towel around himself. He went to the phone and dialed a number. "She's left," was all he said. 

In a couple minutes there was a knock on his door. Charlotte came in without waiting for his invitation. "Well?" she asked.

"She has skills. She enjoys it, and it shows." Michael continued, "Her tits are a little small, but she has a great body under those clothes. She wouldn't do for everyone, but the others? They will pay handsomely."

"Monsieur Richaud is coming in this week. Do you think she will be back?"

"Yes. She said it had been a long time. You know how it is, once you, how you say over here, 'get back in the saddle?'"

"Good. I will talk to Monsieur Richaud."

Liz woke late, having slept better than she had in months. She showered and dressed hurriedly, not wanting to be late for work. It was nice not having to share the bathroom now that her roommate had finally moved out. She liked her privacy. She grabbed her briefcase and headed out the door. 

It wasn't until she was standing in the subway that she had a chance to reflect on what had happened last night. Unconsciously, she began recalling every little detail. Rocking back and forth with the motion of the car, she felt her panties moisten while she relived the experience. Michael had been very good. She couldn't remember the last time she'd had sex that left her feeling so good. Her stop came and her thoughts returned to work. She bounded up the stairs and down the street to her office building. 

Her new assistant, Susan, who'd only worked for her for a couple weeks now, noticed the bounce in her step. "You're looking pretty lively this morning," she said with a wicked grin.

Liz, preferring to keep her private life private, said simply, "Good morning. We have a meeting with the partner and a client at nine. Are you ready?"

Susan was a little put off, but she was ready for the meeting. Her new boss was very smartintelligent, with street smarts that she hadn't noticed in the other associates and junior partners who hailed from schools with significantly morebetter reputations than Liz's state school. At times she seemed aloof, but at others Susan noticed a down-homeliness that made Liz very approachable. Definitely a study in contrasts, she thought. 

Liz and Susan were the first into the conference room. They chose seats on either side of the center of the table, leaving the middle seat for the partner. Others started filing in. The week had begun. Any memories Liz had been harboring of Sunday night quickly disappeared.

Young lawyers don't get much free time, particularly women lawyers, who are driven that much more than the men, just to stay in the running for the coveted position of partner. Liz was no different, but having been singled out for the raise made her more confident. She adapted easily to delegating tasks and quickly learned which were best delegated and which were not. Still, the hours were long, and by late Thursday afternoon, she'd already logged over 60 hours. The one thing she was glad of, and that seemed unusual, was that her firm, from the top down, didn't seem pressed to work weekends unless it was absolutely necessary. No one ever turned down weekend work if it came up, but there wasn't the pressure to work weekends just because they were there, like other firms she knew of. 

A friend of Liz's called her office. She said a small group was getting together for drinks around 7:00 tonight and invited Liz to go along. Liz hadn't been out with a group in a while and readily agreed. She was going to be done with work at a more reasonable hour, thanks in part to her new assistant. She got the name of the bar and jotted the address down. 

A little before 7:00, Liz stuck her head in Susan's cubicle and told her she was leaving. "Do you have any questions before I go?" 

"Not right now, but I might in the morning," Susan replied. 

"Good. See me early and we'll map out some time."

Liz left the building, looking forward to a night out. The place she was to meet the group was not too far away, so she elected to walk rather than get a cab. She felt the pressures of the office lift as she walked. The further she got from the building, the more relaxed she felt. Her pace quickened, and her steps were lighter. She reached the bar and pushed her way through the crowd, quickly finding her friends. Liz bought a round for the group and joined the conversation. There were the usual stories of feats of bravery exercised against bosses, the bitching about the hours and the trials and tribulations of roommates. After her second drink Liz started looking around, paying less attention to the group. She wasn't sure what she was looking for, but it no longer involved this group. She went to the bathroom, and when she came back, she made her excuses and left the bar amid some friendly kidding about her early departure.

Once on the street, Liz breathed easier. She like the socializing, but didn't care for the elbow-to-elbow crowds in the city's bar scene. She walked for several blocks before turning toward the street and hailing a cab. She gave the driver directions to her apartment and settled back into the seat, her long legs somewhat cramped in the small space in back. 

The cab approached the intersection and Liz already had her money out. She gave him the bills and got out at the corner, still feeling like a little company. She looked back the half block toward her apartment, and then turned the other way and toward the green awning of her new "local." It wasn't until she was several steps on her way that she remembered what had transpired there just last Sunday. She hesitated, not wanting to run into Michael so soon afterwards. She stopped, looked back in the direction she had come from, and then continued on. They hadn't exchanged phone numbers, nor was she interested. He had been very good, perhaps the best she'd ever had in bed, but she was just not ready to commit to anything more than what they'd had. She approached the awning, slowing her steps. She looked up to see if she could see him at his post by the front door. She saw nothing, which she thought a little unusual. Slowly she climbed the stairs to the door. She pulled on the door, but it was locked again. She hesitated before ringing the buzzer. When she did, it was Charlotte who came to the door. 

"Hello, Liz! Welcome back! Michael said you'd stopped by for a drink Sunday. I'm sorry I missed you, but I usually don't work on Sunday." 

Liz wondered if Michael had said anything else, but Charlotte didn't appear to be hiding any secret knowledge, so she let it pass. Liz waited while Charlotte closed the door, and then followed her into the bar area, glancing down the front hall toward the room where she'd…. Charlotte interrupted her thoughts. "You actually have some company at the bar tonight. Monsieur. Richaud is one of our regular guests."

Liz's thoughts remained with what had transpired several nights ago. For a moment, she was back in that room with her legs wrapped around Michael, his cock deep inside her, and she felt the outer lips of her pussy slide together, lubricated by the slick fluid that had started forming inside her. 

She shook the image from her head and entered the bar behind Charlotte. Liz noticed two women with very blonde hair sitting together at one of the small tables at the back of the room. She turned as Charlotte started to introduce her to M. Richaud. When Liz first looked at him, she was a little stunned. He was tall, and blonde, with friendly sea-green eyes. Liz began to wonder if they only let attractive people into this place. She took a seat at the bar, leaving one between herself and Jean, as he had insisted she call him.

Liz asked for a gin and tonic, and Charlotte mixed it for her, placing the drink on the bar. Liz put on her game face and asked as nonchalantly as she could, "So, where is Michael tonight?" 

"He had some things to take care of this afternoon, so I gave him the rest of the day off," Charlotte said. Liz was relieved. 

Charlotte excused herself for a moment, and Liz finally felt able to turn her attention to Jean Richaud. He was not unlike Michael, no attitude she could detect, and with a European build that she found alluring. She wondered if he too was uncircumcised, then quickly dismissed the thought. "That," she thought, "is getting a little ahead of things." 

Jean was easy to converse with, asking more about her than talking about himself. He had an air of confidence that made Liz feel very comfortable. She abhorred insecure men, and unfortunately, this town was full of them. She wondered if this confidence was something uniquely French, or if it was caused by wealth, or something else. "American men could sure learn a thing or two from this pair." 

"What was that?" Jean asked. Liz hadn't realized she'd spoken out loud, and was embarrassed. Jean was the one who moved, closing the distance between them by one barstool. Liz looked up from her drink. 

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to say that out loud." She felt she had just lost the upper hand and didn't have much more to add. She hoped Charlotte would return right now to break the awkward silence, but Charlotte didn't show up to bail her out. Liz got up and went around the bar. "Can I get you another drink?"

Jean asked for another glass of red wine, while Liz made herself another gin and tonic. After that last gaffe, she needed it. Something sparked, and she looked up at him. He was already looking at her. "You are an attractive and interesting woman," he said. 

Still no Charlotte to bail her out, to keep her from doing what she knew she was going to do next. The two women at the back of the room had left. It was just Jean and Liz. She walked back around the bar and came up behind him. She pressed her breasts into his shoulder blades, reached around him with her arms to his legs, and caressed them all the way up to his belt line. She pressed her lips against his neck, and he reached behind himself with both arms, pulling her waist closer to him. He said simply, "I am a guest here tonight. Would you like to be my guest?"

Liz pulled back and came around to stand in front of him. "Yes, I would like that." she murmured. She reached for her drink and picked up her briefcase. Jean led the way to the front hall. As they approached it, Charlotte came back into the bar just in time to see them walking out together. Liz caught Charlotte's smug little smile and wondered again if Michael had told her anything. Jean led the way up the stairs and at the top of the second landing, turned toward the front of building. There were just three doors on this floor. He stopped in front of the second door on the right, opened it and let Liz enter first. Less than one week and she'd been in two of the rooms of this "private" hotel. She smiled to herself at the wonders of the city. 

Liz walked around the spacious room, touching the edges of the antiques that furnished it. Jean stood watching her, admiring the tightness of her skirt at the top of her hips, and the way it fell to loosely outline her shape. She set her briefcase down and turned toward him. He had a smile on his face as he walked toward her. When they met, Liz ran her hands up his belly to his chest, then circled the back of his neck and brought his face down to hers. She kissed him deeply on the mouth, and he returned the kiss. 

Without saying a word, she began unbuttoning his shirt, starting at the cuffs, and then working her way down from the neck. When she got to the fourth button, she reached inside the shirt and rubbed his chest. He had little hair, but was well developed – unusual for a Frenchman. She continued unbuttoning his shirt while he just held on to her waist, leaning back to give her room to complete her task. When she got to the beltline, she pulled his shirt out of his pants and finished undoing the rest of the buttons. Again running her hands up over his chest, she moved them up over his shoulders and slid his shirt off him. 

Then it was Jean's turn. First he slid her suit jacket off and draped it over a chair. He turned his attention to her top, which had concealed buttons that were a trifle more difficult to undo than his. When he reached the top of her skirt, he did the same as she had – he simply pulled it up and out. There were no more buttons. He spread the shirt apart and pushed it off her shoulders. Still, neither had uttered a word. 

Jean held her at her waist and slid his hands up to the front clasp of her bra. With two fingers he undid the clasp, and the bra parted in the middle. Jean was immediately taken by the shape of her breasts and their small, pink nipples. With both hands, he slid each side of her bra aside to fully uncover her breasts. When he leaned forward to kiss them, Liz stood on tiptoes, arching her back to meet his lips with her nipples. 

Jean stepped back and Liz noticed a dark spot on the front of his light olive pants. She reached for his belt and pulled him a little closer, working the buckle of his pants with her hand. She let the ends flop to each side, and stroked him through his pants. Reaching over the top of his waistband, her fingers quickly found his hardened cock inside. With her thumb she rubbed the precum around the head. She pulled her hand out and undid the top of his pants, pulling his zipper down in one motion. His loose-fitting pants fell to the floor. Liz hooked her fingers in his underwear and pulled them to the floor. Jean stepped out of the puddle of clothing and lifted Liz back up. He reached behind her and found the clasp and zipper to her skirt. Jean undid both and slid the top of her skirt down over her hips, Liz wriggling a little to help him. 

Jean stood back to admire the languid beauty in front of him, standing there in just her lace bikini panties and dark, thigh-high stockings. Kneeling in front of her, he first slid her left stocking down her leg, steadying her while she lifted her foot out of the stocking. He did the same for the right, and again turned to face her, his eyes level with the top of her panties. He leaned forward and, with his tongue, traced a line across the waistband. When he got to the side, he kept tracing the line of her underwear, going back toward her belly button, but following the lower elastic across the top of her thigh. As he got to the center, Liz pressed against him, but Jean pulled back. He reached forward and in one motion pulled her panties down to her ankles.

Jean stood up, grasped Liz's hand and led her to the bed. Once there, he reversed their positions and backed her up to the edge. He came up to her and, holding her by the back of her neck and her lower back, he lowered her onto the bed. As he went to kneel by the side of the bed, Liz made a move to scoot further onto the bed, but Jean stopped her by grabbing the top of her leg. He pulled her back toward the edge and placed a kiss on her knee. With one arm, she reached up and grabbed a couple of the pillows from the head of the bed. One she placed under her head and the other she gave to Jean. She arched her back and he slid it under the small of her back. He liked that she knew what pleased her, and wasn't afraid to communicate it, even though still no words had been spoken. 

Still kneeling on the floor, Jean rubbed the inside of each of her thighs with his hands, up over her hips and back down to where her legs met. He spread her legs and then he started kissing up the inside of her thigh. As he reached the top, he gently, with just his fingers, spread her pussy lips. Liz lifted off the pillow, trying to reach him with the source of the musky woman-scent that emanated from her. Jean, wanting to tease her a little more, leaned forward and kissed her mons, intentionally avoiding the place she wanted him to kiss, to lick, to suckle. She wanted desperately to pull his head into her pussy, to feel his lips part hers and his tongue delve as deeply into her as it could. Liz held back, the anticipation building inside of her, her heart pounding in her chest and her nipples straining as though to break through her skin. Her pussy juices were flowing freely, and she could already feel them running down the crack of her ass. 

Jean traced the outline of her slightly trimmed pubic hair with his tongue, across the top toward the left, following the angle down toward the center of her pussy. Liz gasped as he approached her parted lips. He slowly kept working his way down, running his tongue over her fleshy, pouting outer lips, pausing to take part of one in his mouth and roll it around. He moved down a little, and, starting at her puckered bud, ran his tongue all the way up the crack of her pussy, pausing at her engorged clit to give it a little extra attention. Liz pushed against him the entire length of his tongue's journey. He returned to the dark pink slit glowing at him in its wetness and slowly began a rhythm with his tongue, his shoulders underneath her legs to make her more accessible. In, up, and back along one side, and then coming back along the other side. Liz pressed into the pillow under her back, hoping to draw him to her clit. She'd had enough. She needed more. 




D'Orr's



Reluctantly, because she was so enjoying the attention being paid to her, but firmly, because she needed to be filled, Liz guided Jean's head up to her belly. He arose from his kneeling position and continued up the rest of the way to her neck. She could smell herself on his face, and gave a little shudder. Liz used her knee and arm to roll Jean off her and onto his back on the bed. He looked at her with a little question in his eyes, until she swung her leg over him. She slid up till both knees were just touching the bottom of his ribcage. She hooked her feet under his thighs and leaned forward, kissing his still-glistening chin and running her tongue all over his lips. She leaned back and lifted up, reaching between her legs to guide him home. When her fingers found him, she pulled him forward a little and slowly settled on him, going all the way down, just a little at a time, relishing every inch of heat entering her. Slowly, she raised herself till she felt just the head of his cock inside her. Clenching him with her internal muscles, she started sliding down again. He watched her intently. She was working him. He was not working her. 

Jean reached forward and, as best he could, placed one hand on each of her hips, more to guide him than her. He realized that, for the first time he could remember, he was in the presence of a sexual being much more powerful than he. He would have to compliment Charlotte. Later. Liz slowly picked up the pace, and Jean followed suit. With his hands on her hips, their timing was almost flawless. Relying only on her legs to raise and lower herself, Liz used one hand to play with her nipple, and lowered the other to rub her clit. Jean could feel her juices running over his balls when she leaned forward so that he was just barely inside her. Not really moving, just by clenching and releasing, Liz drew Jean back inside her. This was too much for him, and she could tell. She sat upright, lifted up as high as she could, and came down as far as could, squeezing him the whole way down. As she came down, he arched his back, his cock pumping its load into her. The first squirt triggered Liz's orgasm, the walls of her pussy convulsing with pleasure, her back arching, her head thrown back. With both hands she held onto her breasts as she finished cumming. She fell down against Jean's chest, releasing his softening cock from inside her. 

Liz awoke at about 12:30. Jean was fast asleep. She looked at his naked body, thinking she could go for a little more, but she was tired and did have to get to work in the morning. As quietly as she could, she slid off the bed and gathered up her clothes. Standing by the door she dressed quickly, stuffing her underclothes into her briefcase and carrying her heels as she opened the door. Jean hadn't even stirred. 

Going down the stairs, Liz was hoping to slip out without having to talk to anyone. As she walked by the entrance to the bar she glanced in. Charlotte was still there, deep in a conversation with a man who looked familiar. Charlotte looked up at the sound of Liz's footsteps and gave her a friendly smile before returning to her conversation. Liz felt relieved, although she wasn't sure whether it was because she'd avoided the conversation, or whether she'd been concerned about what Charlotte was going to think of her. She needn't have worried. 

Fridays generally started early and Liz made the bell. She was tired but felt very good inside. She'd needed this last week and hadn't realized how much she'd missed having sex until now. Her problem, she thought to herself, was that she couldn't, or didn't want to, spend the time necessary for a relationship in order to have sex. This place down the street was turning out to work quite well for her. 

Liz had made plans with friends to go out to the island for the weekend. It was enjoyable, and Liz needed the break from the city. By the time she got back late Sunday she was tired, all the sun and the running around having done her in. She collapsed into bed and slept soundly.

By late Tuesday Liz had gotten a good start to the week and she was feeling good about her prospects in the legal world. She left the office and grabbed a cab back to her apartment. When she got out, she glanced down the block and saw the green awning in front of D'orr. Flush with one of the small successes afforded associates firms, she headed down the block and up the stairs to the door. As she approached, it buzzed and she looked up and saw Michael in the entry. She continued up and went through the door he was holding open for her. He gave her a warm, friendly greeting that gave no hint of what had transpired between them. Liz was glad of that, and walked into the bar. 

Charlotte was at her usual place behind the bar and smiled when Liz walked in. "I presume you're here for a drink. What can I get you tonight?" she asked.

"It's still close enough to summer; I think I'll have a gin and tonic." Liz was glad she had found this place. Much better than the usual crowds she'd been used to dealing with. The other benefits she'd been able to get from this place only added to its allure. She placed a high value on her privacy and "quiet time" and maybe that was another reason she hadn't seriously dated anyone since law school. The problem with her solitary lifestyle was that she ended up with long dry spells, and she was a woman who needed sex.

She'd finished about half of the Daily News when Charlotte placed another gin and tonic in front of her. "Liz, why don't you leave the paper and bring your drink to the back terrace with me. It's such a nice evening," Charlotte said. Without waiting for Liz to answer, she called "Michael, Liz and I are going out to the terrace. Can you keep an eye on the bar?"

"Of course. I will be there in a minute," he replied.

Charlotte led Liz through a door at the back of the bar, which that led to an open area that could have at one time been a dining room, but now was sparsely furnished with some very expensive antiques. Liz followed, noticing the furniture, but really looking forward to seeing the back. She had always been transfixed by all the little garden areas in the backs of buildings that she'd seen throughout the city. Little oases, she called them, and she had yet to find one she didn't like. When they stepped through the sliding glass doors at the rear of the building, Liz wasn't disappointed with this one either. There were several levels of wood decking with sparse plantings around them, leading down to a very full garden area. The scents of the garden overpowered the city smells. Charlotte led the way down to a glass-topped wrought iron table, set her glass of wine down on it and pulled out a chair. Liz followed suit. There was a bird in one of the trees in the garden making quite a racket at their entry.


Charlotte gave Liz a few moments to get settled into the silence. She hadn't really planned the conversation; she never did. She'd found it was usually best to let it flow from the beginning. She slid the envelope she'd palmed on the way out under her leg. Charlotte picked up her drink, took a sip, and looked at Liz. She was a good-looking woman, but it was her confidence that really made her attractive. Charlotte was hoping she'd be able to tap this, for both their benefit.

"I really don't get out here often enough," Charlotte said. "It's so beautiful, and such a change from the rest of the place." Liz, still a little transfixed, merely nodded. 

"Liz, the very first night you came by, I told you this was a hotel, of sorts, for a very exclusive clientele. It is that. We have some rooms reserved only for specific customers; it's their pied a terre here in the city. Our customers are mostly men, mostly traveling here on business from Europe, one or two from Asia. We also have a few women and even one or two couples from time to time. As I may have told you, no one who stays here comes without a reference from someone we know well, and everyone respects the others' privacy. "

Liz looked at Charlotte, not quite sure where this was going, but enjoying the setting and the company anyway. It wasn't often she met someone she was so comfortable with right from the start. 

Charlotte continued. "We, Michael and I and the clients, like the relative obscurity of this little place. They don't all come here for the quiet though. I refer to the guests as clients, and I do so for a reason." She reached under her leg, brought out the envelope and slid it across the table toward Liz. Liz looked at it but let it sit there; she looked back at Charlotte, wondering just what was coming next. 

"In addition to the rooms, we also provide certain services for our clients,." Charlotte continued. Liz's heart started beating faster. "These services are not generally found, at least in the quality we provide, at any hotel, or any other place that I know of in the city." 

Liz drained the rest of her drink and asked if she could get another. Charlotte pressed a button hidden underneath the top edge of one of the planters behind her and waited. Liz wanted to reach forward and see if she was right about what she now thought was in the envelope, but she waited for her drink to get there. Michael showed up with four drinks, two for each of them, just before the silence started to get awkward. He left as silently as he had come. 

"Monsieur Richaud, Jean, is a very good customer of ours. He comes to the city often, he's not married, and he works very hard. He has little time for a relationship, but, like you, I imagine, he finds that he needs some company at times, in order to perform his best in the other things he does." 

Liz reached forward to pick up the envelope, confident she knew what was in there, but not at all sure that was what she wanted it to be. When her fingers wrapped around it and drew it toward her, her heart started pounding in her chest. She drained the rest of her drink and reached for the other before looking inside the envelope. Charlotte, watching her intently, let Liz discover the money and make the connection for herself. 

Trying her best to appear calm, Liz slowly rifled through the money in the envelope. She guessed there was at least $4,000 in there. She looked up at Charlotte, the meaning of it all leaving her speechless. She was totally flabbergasted, flummoxed, and seething with anger at both Michael and Jean for obviously having spoken out of turn. 

"There is $5,000 in there. It is from Jean." Charlotte knew she had to get Liz to speak. "Am I wrong in guessing that you, like Jean, are unable to find time to take care of the things that need taking care of in order to be your best?"

Liz, still looking Charlotte directly in the eyes, nodded. "Yes," she finally said. "But, I don't think I need to…"

"This is not a full-time job," Charlotte interrupted. "Perhaps two or three clients a month."

When Liz glanced down at her lap Charlotte grew a little more confident. What she didn't know was that, despite Liz's roller-coaster ride of emotions, her pussy had started to react. Liz squirmed in her seat and covered up what she was really doing with an angry look. Who she was angry with, she wasn't really sure.

Charlotte went on. "This is a unique situation. It is one that offers a convenience for both our clients and the hosts. You, an attractive, professional woman, are given the opportunity to get two things you either want or need – money and sex. And neither one comes with any strings attached. The money comes in cash, and it is not unusual for someone in your position to earn $150,000 or more in a year. The sex is, for some, a bonus. Our clients don't have any strange requests, or at least not very strange. We protect our hosts more than our clients. We even have some health benefits."

At this, Liz laughed. It was a nervous laugh, but it was a laugh nevertheless. The feeling between Liz's legs had subsided somewhat but was still there. She was feeling a little less angry, a little less confused. Her mind began working again – Two or three times a month? $150,000 a year, maybe more? She wouldn't have to worry about getting another roommate. Were they all as good as Michael and Jean? Wait a minute…

Charlotte laughed with Liz. "This is not the easiest thing to bring up. Like I said, this is a very unique situation, and we both would stand to gain from it."

Liz thought back to the two blonde women she'd seen sitting together in the bar. "Who were the two blondes I saw in the bar?"

"Ah, that is Anna and Erika, flight attendants from one of the Scandinavian airlines. They're sisters, actually. They are hosts here as well, and they stay here whether or not they're working."

Liz couldn't believe it, but she was actually weighing the pros and cons when Charlotte said "Obviously, I don't expect an answer right away. Think it over, and whatever decision you come to, you're always welcome back in the bar. I like your company."

Just like that the interview, or recruitment, was over. Charlotte stood and Liz followed suit. They both gathered their glasses and headed back inside. One of the blondes was in the bar keeping Michael company, and Charlotte introduced Liz simply as a friend of hers.

Michael handed Liz her briefcase from behind the bar and she left. As she walked up the street to her apartment, she kept finding ways of rationalizing actually going through with this. When Liz finally got into her apartment, she felt exhausted and collapsed into bed. 

Luckily for Liz, the rest of the week was very busy and it kept her mind off the real issue at hand. It wasn't until she was in bed at night that she gave it any thought, and by now it had been over a week since Jean, and it was easy then to think of all the advantages. By morning, though, she would usually end up thinking this was the most ridiculous thing she'd ever heard of. 

On Saturday she had some work to do, and she woke up early so she could get out quickly. As she showered, she lingered a little longer than usual with the bar of soap between her legs, and she thought again of the option that had been presented to her. She rinsed off, turned the water a little cooler and took the shower massage unit off its holder and directed it between her legs. She adjusted the settings so that it was pulsing little jets of water. She leaned against the wall, concentrating on the feeling between her legs, the water cascading down her thighs. Abruptly she stopped, turned the water off, and got out of the shower. She'd made up her mind. 

Liz hurried through the work she had to do and was able to get out of there in the early afternoon. She headed back uptown, but instead of going to her apartment, she walked on past toward the green awning. She walked up to the door and rang the buzzer. Charlotte came to the door and opened it with a smile. "Hello, Liz. Come on in."

Liz wanted to make this brief. "I've given this a lot of thought. I will join you here. It cannot interfere with my job, and I do not always know when I will have to work late."

They still stood in the entryway. Charlotte nodded. "That is fine. I am glad you've decided this way. I think you will find it beneficial in many ways." She put out her hand and they shook. Still standing in the entryway, Charlotte gave Liz some of the small details of how things worked. She would give Liz a beeper, the name of an ob-gyn that was sympathetic to their job and schedules, and a key to the front door. "You're always welcome here."

After several more minutes of details and phone numbers being exchanged, Charlotte gave Liz the pager she'd picked up just the day before. She had been pretty sure Liz was coming back. Liz left, a little light-headed, not quite believing what she'd just done. 

Late the next week Liz returned to her desk after a meeting that had lasted all morning. It was close to lunchtime and, having skipped breakfast, she was very hungry. She opened the drawer that held her purse and reached in to grab her wallet before going out. There was something buzzing in the bottom, and not really thinking, she fumbled around to grab it. When she found it and pulled it out, she realized it was the beeper Charlotte had given her. Guiltily, she looked around to make sure no one had seen or heard, and hid it from view. Holding it under her desk, she pressed the button to retrieve the message, her hand shaking. The only thing that came back was Charlotte's phone number. Liz deleted the message, picked up her wallet and told her assistant Susan that she was going out to get some lunch. She left the building, her hunger fading as she rode down the elevator.

Liz walked a couple blocks away from the building to a nearby hotel. She walked in, looked around for the pay phones and chose the one furthest away from the front desk. She fumbled in her wallet for some change. Her hands still shaking, she dropped the coins in the slot, and dialed the number. "H…-hello," she stumbled, "it's me, Liz."