My smart watch informs me of a notification. It’s an escort’s best friend. Lots of crazies out there. My location feeds directly to the security company I hired to protect me. And when I scream for help, the watch automatically dials 911 and informs the company that I’m in danger.
I sigh. Unfortunately, it’s not an enquiry about my services. What the hell is going on today? It’s Valentine’s Day. I thought I’d get a ton of requests for sex. I had only one session this morning with Roy, my regular. Then again, he would find a way to get here and bang me if there was a tornado outside and rogue waves that can topple a building.
I log onto a popular forum where sex workers discuss the industry and the lifestyle. My lips part, and my eyes widen as I see a thread about Valentine’s Day being one of the worst days of the year for sex workers. A working lady commented that it’s because men spend V-Day with their partners, and single men are out looking for love.
This is my first V-Day as an escort, so I’m not clued up with all the ins and outs. I blow steam out of my nose and then shake my head. Just because I know the reason for the slow day doesn’t mean that I feel better. Actually, I’m now angrier because any hope of the day picking up has vanished.
The only thing that can make me feel better is a hard bang. But where the hell am I gonna find someone worthy when everyone’s got plans?
An hour later, after compounding my misery in my apartment, thinking about what to do, I decide that a walk may help to alleviate my fury. The ambience of a bustling city—traffic flowing, street lights hovering above the sidewalk, skyscrapers lit up with neon signs and the chattering of people passing by—should put me in a different state of mind.
The coat reaches my knees, but I don’t fasten it. I want my red mini-skirt to reveal my legs. Of course, the red stilettos match the skirt perfectly. I apply a thick coat of red lipstick and then pop my lips. I look fantastic like always.
My hands are in the coat pockets as I stroll down the street. It’s mostly couples that walk past me. They’re kinda cute. I wish I had someone special, but it’s difficult to find a man who isn’t jealous and can accept my profession.
I frown, noticing that many women are wearing red. Hey, what’s up with that? Why are they wearing the same colour as me and making me look like I’m one of the regular folks? Oh, right. I smile and roll my eyes, realising that it’s V-Day. I hadn’t consciously worn red because of it. It’s because I look divine in it. Then again, I look fabulous in everything.
My eyebrows lower, and I pout. Darn it. I thought I was gonna stand out with my beauty, but now I blend into the sea of red around me. I blow steam out of my nose again. This wasn’t supposed to turn out this way.
Going back home seems like the best option. But then again, I’ll just wallow in my misery. Doubt I’ll be able to even enjoy a movie. Being alone doesn’t sound all that enticing. Even if I don’t have company, just being around people will make me feel like I’m not alone.
I know. The city park is magnificent at night. The scenery is magical, and I always feel good when I’m there. That’s bound to uplift my spirits.
I get to the entrance of the park, look around and then tighten my lips and stomp my foot on the ground. Oh, my goodness. Can anything go right for me tonight? All the benches are taken by couples cosying up to each other.
Okay, just relax, Lexi. I guess I can always walk around the park. My whole face wrinkles. No! I want to sit. These stilettos are killing me.
I look at a bench at the far end of the park, and it looks like it’s occupied by one person. Hopefully, he’s not waiting for anyone. I would look stupid if I sat there and then his girlfriend comes and gets touchy with him.
“Excuse me, may I sit here?” I ask a man with brown hair combed to the side.
He looks at me through his circle-frame glasses, smiles and then gestures at the bench, “Please.”
At least, he’s friendly. Let’s hope he’s not some kinda creep. I mean, I’ve had some weird requests from clients, who wanted to dress up like a baby and have me rock them like I’m their mother. Seriously? I want money, but even I have my limits. Go sort out your mommy issues somewhere else. Come to me if you want your sexual fetishes fulfilled and your brains banged out. I definitely specialize in those.
“Nice night, huh?” he asks.
“I guess.”
“What? Don’t tell me you got stood up on Valentine’s Day?”
“Something like that.”
“At least you had a chance to spend the day with someone.”
“You don’t have a date?”
He shakes his head, smiling. At least, he’s not depressed. I admire that about him.
“No. Haven’t had one in a while. I’m busy at work, and to be completely honest, I’m a bit of an introvert.”
“What do you do?”
“I’m a civil engineer.”
“Sounds like something I know nothing about.”
His smile broadens. I like that he’s not judging me by making a snarky remark about my intelligence. I’ve heard all the blonde jokes from numerous pompous men who thought that they were funny but just ended up being douches.
“I’m responsible for building infrastructure and buildings. At the moment, I’m working on building a bridge from the city centre across the river to give people better access to the city from the suburbs.”
“Oh, wow. Sounds like you’re smart.”
He smiles but doesn’t say anything. That shows me he’s not pompous. I was actually testing him to see how he was going to reply, and he passed with flying colours.
“I love what I do. My work makes people’s lives more convenient and it creates jobs. Completing a project brings me great joy, and it empowers communities. There’s no better feeling than that.”
Hearing him talk about his passion makes him seem so masculine and ambitious. I love that in a man. Ooh, he’s kinda sexy. Definitely not my usual type, but he’ll do for the night. If my clients aren’t gonna give me any action, then a girl has to find it somewhere else. I can’t be without dick on V-Day. That’s just not fair to my va-jay-jay.
“What about you? What line of work are you in?” he asks.
“Oh, I’m in the therapy business. Massages and stuff like that, to make people feel good.”
He nods. “Okay, nice. So you also help people by servicing them.”
“In more ways than one.”
We chuckle.
“Sorry. Here we are talking, and I haven’t even introduced myself. Ernie. It’s a pleasure.” He extends his arm.
“Lexi. Nice to meet you.”
“Lexi—that’s a nice name.”
I gave him my birth name. The name that I use with my clients is Dominatrix. He doesn’t need to know that for now. But all in due time.
He looks around the park and says, “Seems like everyone’s got someone in their life. Just me that hasn’t found love yet.”
“It’s not just you. Me as well.”
He tilts his head slightly and looks at me suspiciously. “Come on. I can’t believe that a stunning woman like you doesn’t have a lot of options in men.”
“Awww. That’s so sweet. Thank you.”
“Any man would be lucky to be with you.”
My smile extends further. “I appreciate that. That’s very nice of you to say.”
“I mean it.” We look at each other for a few seconds, then he breaks eye contact by looking down. I can see that he’s contemplating something, but I just don’t know what. He eventually looks at me and asks, “Do you want to get dinner? There’s a really nice restaurant across the road.”
“Yeah, sure. That sounds good.”
At the restaurant, he tells the waiter that I should order first. A gentleman—that’s something I’m not used to. Most of my clients like to call me a whore and a cheap hooker during sex. I don’t actually mind. Whatever gets them to transfer the money from their pockets into my purse, as long as I’m not physically hurt.
Ernie tells me that he would love to find true love and be with her for the rest of his life. I admire a man who knows what he wants. It’s weird for a man in his 30s not to know what he wants from life.
God knows I’ve had plenty of such losers request sex from me. That’s a hard no. I tried that once and got burnt. After the sex, he told me that he didn’t bring cash and would do a transfer later. I never got that money. That bastard.
Ernie’s tone is cordial, and I enjoy it. It’s obvious to me that he’s looking for a girlfriend. I’ve given numerous of my clients the girlfriend experience, so I’m well-versed in that role.
The way he’s talking to me, treating me to dinner and putting his best foot forward—all good moves to impress a potential partner with. I’m not what he’s looking for, but let’s see where this goes. If he plays his cards right, I might blow him in the parking lot.
I order a glass of wine, but Ernie insists I get the finest bottle on the menu. Ooh, I like that move. Nice one, Ernie. You know how to press the right buttons.
Our glasses clink as we toast to good times.
I order the Cannellini Bean salad, and Ernie gets himself a big steak. I like a man who has a big appetite and doesn’t mind taking his lady out to a restaurant. I’m definitely not the cooking type. Me, in the kitchen, yeah, right. Maybe only when I’m fetching a drink from the fridge to go with my takeaways.
The food is delicious, and the company is pretty good.
After dinner, Ernie suggests that I get the La Madeline au Truffle. It’s a truffle with cream, vanilla and dark chocolate covered in ganache. Gosh, that sounds delicious. My bottom lip lowers, and my eyes widen as I see that it’s $250. What?
I look at him and see him smiling. He really wants me to have that. Nobody has ever bought me a dessert that expensive. He’s definitely getting action tonight.
The truffle is even more delicious than I imagined. My stomach is full, and I’ve had a wonderful conversation with a man who treated me with respect. Maybe Valentine’s Day isn’t that bad, after all.
Ernie snatches the bill as soon as the waiter places it on the table. He doesn’t even glance at me. A true gentleman. Now, the only thing left is for us to get out of here and end the night with an orgasm.
We walk around for a few minutes. I notice that Ernie isn’t experienced at pulling women to his place, so I’m going to have to give him a little nudge. Ugh, what the hell? I might as well get straight to the point.
“Let’s go to my place,” I say.
He smiles broadly.
At my place, I offer him something to drink, but he’s fine. Good man. There’s no need for us to drink anymore. I wish he would just take me and bang me hard.
I place my hand on his chest and slide it down to his stomach. His eyes follow my hand, which reaches lower. It’s now on his dick. Oh, yeah. He’s hard. I smile at him, but his eyes are glued to my hand. I can see that he likes me stroking his dick over his pants.
After I pull down his zipper, I whip out his dick and then immediately drop my head to it, wrapping my plump lips around it. He groans as I bob up and down on his dick. He puts his hand on top of my head and pushes it down. His dick goes deeper into my throat, making me gurgle.
I like that he’s aggressive. That’s a massive turn-on for me. I tickle his balls and, then shortly thereafter, I taste some cum on his tip. He definitely likes it when I play with his balls. Maybe I shouldn’t do it too much because then he’ll come way too early. Wouldn’t want that.
I stand in front of the couch, and he spreads his legs open. I lift up my skirt and then lower my ass to his dick, my back facing him.
He grabs my waist, and I bounce fast on his dick. His dick goes all the way up my vajayjay, and I’m loving it. That’s evident by my screams.
I put my hands on Ernie’s knees and then look at him over my shoulder and smile. Oh, yeah. He’s enjoying himself. He’s so hard.
He slouches in the couch and then swings his hips up, perfectly in rhythm with me, making the thrusts even harder.
I raise my chin, close my eyes and shoot out consecutive screams. Oh, God. It feels so good. he’s really giving it to me just the way I like it.
I’m loving his dick, so I jump off it and drop to my knees. My mouth engulfs his dick as my hands rest on his legs. I’m looking at him as I’m blowing him, and he’s smiling at me.
I lick his balls and then sit on him again, facing the TV. Strangely enough, I’ve never done it with a guy in that position. Not being able to see him while jumping on his dick is kinda hot.
After a few minutes, he tells me to get on the floor. My hands and knees are on the floor, and my bum pushes back towards the couch. He’s still sitting in the same position, but he’s more on the edge of the couch so that his dick goes inside me.
He pulls my hair back and smacks my ass several times. That’s nothing new to me. I’ve had that plenty of times.
Ernie also pokes his finger into my ass while giving it to me from behind. That’s also kinda hot. I enjoy that. I must admit.
Several minutes later, he tells me that he’s about to cum. I face him on my knees and open my mouth. His load shoots out, some into my eyes but most of it goes into my mouth. I hardly ever do that for clients, unless they tip me $200. But for Ernie, I feel that he deserves it.
He grabs a cloth from the kitchen and wipes the cum off my face. What a gentleman. I thank him, but I see that there’s something on his mind, so I ask.
Ernie shakes his head, smiling. Now, I’m really curious about what he’s thinking.
“Tell me,” I say, smiling.
“Okay, but promise that you’re not going to judge me.”
Oh, goodness. I’ve had so many creeps come through that door. He couldn’t possibly be creepier than them.
“Swear and hope to die.”
“I got this fetish that I’ve always wanted to try, but…”
“But what?”
“I don’t know if it’s appropriate.”
“Tell me what it is.”
He looks at the floor for a few seconds, smiling, then looks at me. “Okay, but don’t judge me, please.” I nod. “I’ve always wanted a hot woman like you to fart in my face.”
“That’s it?”
“Yes. You don’t think that’s weird?”
Oh, sweety. I drank a guy’s piss for a thousand dollars. You think your request is bad?
“Not at all,” I say. “Let’s do it.”
He raises his eyebrows and smiles. “Really?”
“Yeah. Lie on the floor.”
He lies on the floor, and I squat, my naked ass right above his face. My bum cheeks brush his face as I contract them. I grit my teeth, and my leg muscles contract. It’s a good thing that I had beans for dinner. That definitely gives me gas.
I blow the first fart out, and I hear him say, “Oh, yeah. That’s it.”
I feel his nose right by my anus. Man, I can only imagine how badly it smells, especially because of the beans. I know he wants more farts, so I tense up my butt cheeks again and push out another fart. Woohoo, that one was squeaky.
Ernie tells me that he wants one last one.
I want to make this one the biggest fart of the three, so I tense up vigorously. My anus is probably a centimetre or two from his face. I grit my teeth, and I squeeze my eyes closed. Oh, man. Here comes a big one. Wait for it. I grimace as I push out a massive…
Oh shit!
Excuse the pun. Like old people say, ‘Never trust a fart.’
I straighten my back and raise my eyebrows. I turn to Ernie and look down at him. His face is covered with my shit.
He’s just lying there, not moving at all. I’m not even sure of what to say. I suppose an apology is in order, but maybe he doesn’t want one.
Ernie raises his head off the floor and wipes the shit off his lips, then from his eyes. He sits up and cleans his face more with his hand.
“Well, I can certainly say that I’ve never had that happen to me before,” he says.
“Me, too.”
He stands up and then goes to the bathroom.
A few minutes later, he walks out, his face completely clean. He grabs my shoulders and smiles at me. “That was something different, but overall, I enjoyed myself. Thank you.”
I smile and then hug him.
Two days later, Ernie texts me, ‘Had a great time with you. Hopefully, I can see you again.’
I only got around to the message hours later after he sent it. Business had picked up, and I had five clients that day to bang. So I wasn’t exactly in the mood for some romantic messages.
His next text, a few minutes later, is about dinner plans. He wants to see me again. It’s clear to me that he’s trying to court me into becoming his girlfriend.
Oh, Ernie. If you only knew who I am. It’s probably for the best that I tell him, but I don’t want to shatter his dream of finding true love. He’s such a romantic, and when I tell him, he’s going to be devastated. And he’s such a nice guy. I don’t want to break his heart.
Maybe if I ignore him, he’ll stop texting me.
The following day, he texts me three hearts next to each other. Okay, this can’t carry on any longer. I can’t lead him on. It’s not fair to him or me. I just wonder how he’s going to react when I tell him that I’m an escort. But I have to do it for both of our sakes.
I accept Ernie’s dinner invitation. I know, that was stupid. It makes it seem like I want to take things further. But all I want is to meet up with him and tell him that I’m not the one for him.
At the restaurant, we have a polite conversation for a few minutes, but I don’t want it to go on for much longer because it looks like I’m interested in taking things to the next level.
“Look, Ernie. You’re a great guy, but I accepted this invitation to tell you who I am.”
“Okay, go ahead.”
“The time we spent together was wonderful, really. I mean it. The conversations, dinner, the sex and then the other thing that happened. Well, you know what I mean. We had fun. But I think that you wouldn’t be interested in me if you knew who I am. It’s obvious to me that you want a girlfriend, and I’m not sure that I am a suitable candidate.”
“Why do you say that? Because you’re not interested in me? I know I’m a bit nerdy and not your usual type, right?”
“I’m an escort.”
He stares at me for a few seconds without blinking. Here it comes—the judging, the slut shaming and who knows what else he’ll hurl at me now that he’s angry.
“Oh, okay.” He looks down, and his forehead wrinkles. He looks at me and says, “I’m confused.”
“About what?”
“How come you didn’t charge me?”
“Because I really liked you. I still do. It’s just that it can never work between us because of my profession.”
“Is that because your job doesn’t allow you to have a boyfriend?”
“No, I can have a boyfriend, but how are you going to feel about me sleeping with other men?”
He looks down again and scratches his chin. “Yeah, I wouldn’t want that. But why do you do this for a living?”
“It pays well.”
“I see. Can I make a proposal?”
“Sure.”
“If you and I get serious, you quit escorting and be my stay-at-home girlfriend. I’ll provide for you financially and in every way. Your lifestyle won’t deteriorate in any shape or form. Maybe it’ll even improve. I’m generous with the people I love.”
Hmmm. He’s asking me to abandon my income and risk being with him. Sure, he’ll spoil me, but what if he decides to dump me or I want to leave him? What am I going to do for money then? Well, I can always return to escorting. It’s not like this business is seasonal or unforgiving to members who leave the club for some time.
I smile and extend my hand. “Proposal accepted.”
It’s been two years since that night, and we are happily together. I stopped escorting as soon as I moved in with Ernie, and I’m now expecting our firstborn.
And to think that all of this started with a V-Day that I thought would be awful.
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