Aristippus - Lauren's Story

With his face and neck now clean and stubble-free, he dressed in white linen slacks and a Guayabera shirt. I had only brought one dress, a blue and white A-frame, which looked summery and went nicely with Eric's outfit. I liked it, as it had a built-in bodice, so I didn't have to wear a bra. Just a skimpy thong and a pair of sandals, and I was ready to go.

We arrived at the hotel bar probably an hour before dinner. But there was already a crowd of other people from the production company, so we certainly weren't alone. Eric kept to his beer, but I ordered a Tequila Sunrise, which had become my new favorite. And as we mingled, Eric just simply introduced me as "Lauren." No last name, no superlatives, just my first name. And to my surprise, no one asked any questions, raised eyebrows, and no little innuendoes, which put me entirely at ease and made me feel very adult.

As we were called to dinner, it was in a private dining room with one long table. And it was order from the menu. Looking at the menu as it was handed to me, I realized it was in Spanish, and there was almost nothing I recognized. I asked the woman sitting next to me, what she was having, and she responded, "Oh, the chicken molé. It is excellent here."

I knew what chicken was, but I wasn't sure about the molé, but when the waiter came and took her order, I just simply said, "I'll have the same as her." I could have asked Eric, who was sitting on the other side of me, but I was trying to be more independent and adult, so I didn't. When it arrived, I was a little taken back. It looked like black gravy. I tasted it, and it was good, but unlike anything I'd ever eaten before. I looked over at Eric's plate. I wasn't sure what that was either, but I asked, and he said, "Stuffed Poblano, would you like to try it?"

"Sure," I said, hedging my bets on the evening meal. The poblano was stuffed with chicken, rice, pinon nuts, raisins, spices, and deep-fried. It was absolutely delicious. And once I actually tried the chicken molé, it was delicious also. Being from California, you'd think I would be familiar with these dishes, but the Mexican food I was familiar with back home was tamales, enchiladas, and of course, tacos (Taco Bell). There is a whole new world out there I just need to explore.

When the dinner was over, and dessert was being served, the director stood up to thank everyone for the great job and all of their hard work while on location. Several people were singled out for extra praise, and one of the last ones called out was Eric. He was so happy to finally be recognized, and I was so proud of him. I committed myself right then and there that once I got him back to the room, I would also personally honor his accomplishments.

I wanted to start my special appreciation ceremony in the elevator on the way back to our room, but it was too crowded. However, as soon as we were behind closed doors, I flung my arms around his neck and planted my lips squarely on his. Our kiss lasted for almost two minutes as Eric slowly walked us backward to the bed without breaking our lip lock. But once the back of my legs touched the bed, we separated far enough so that we could begin to undress each other. It didn't take long, and once we were down to his boxers and my thong, I took his hand and led him out onto the balcony. There I lowered the back of one of the lounge chairs so that it was flat. Pushing Eric down onto his back, I pulled his boxers off of him, then did a little strip tease as I slowly removed my last remaining garment - my thong. Now, as naked as the day I was born, I laid down on top of him, facing his feet. I had never done sixty-nine before, and I'd been dying to try it. And as this was an evening of new discoveries, I figured it was a perfect time.

The lights were off in our room, as well as the balcony lights. But, of course, the courtyard and the pool below us were well lit. So, if anyone took the effort, I'm sure they could have seen us, but I honestly didn't care. Holding the base of Eric's rigid pecker in one hand, I slowly wrapped my tender lips around the remainder. Savoring the salty sweetness of his most prized organ on my tongue, I gently lowered my sweet southern end onto his face. I could feel his tender lips make contact and his talented tongue begin its exploration.

On the first night of our Mexican adventure, Eric had brought me to the most amazing climax, and I had every expectation that he could do it again. And on that first night, he had the four-day growth of beard as required by the movie script, yet tonight he was clean-shaven and silky smooth. It was like a totally different man, yet it was the same. The same tender lips, the same skillful tongue, the same wet fingers guiding and probing, and the same sultry warm breath on my most delicate and most highly aroused personal area.

And as my own salivating mouth rose and fell, oh so slowly on his magical mystery pole, my trembling body was ever so cooled by the breeze from the Pacific Ocean, only a few yards away. Several times I felt his body tighten - as if I had taken him too far. And on those occasions, I would stop and allow him to rest. Yet if Eric stopped his oral examination of me, I would sigh a low deep sorrowful moan, encouraging him to continue his oral massage and exploration.

I wanted to come first, for I was afraid that once I brought Eric to release, it would lessen his chance of being able to fully please me once we moved to the bedroom. And as he had promised to make love to me like no one ever had, my expectations had been set very high.

Unexpectedly, I heard voices down at the pool. We were on the third floor of the hotel. However, the railing of our balcony was wrought iron, and as it offered safety from falling, it offered no provision for privacy. The thought of being seen, though unlikely, was at least possible. And the risk of being spotted titillated me in a way I had never known before, and as Eric's tongue darted back and forth across my clitoris, my orgasm hit like waves of a storm crashing on the beach.

I raised my head as I didn't want to inadvertently clinch my teeth on the object I had been so lovingly sucking for the last ten minutes. For as wave after wave of sexual euphoria swept my body, I had little voluntary control over my physical reactions. My body shook uncontrollably, and vaginal fluids shot from between my legs with such force that I was afraid I might drown poor Eric. But he seemed to relish my expression of gratitude and eagerly consumed every drop.

As my orgasm subsided, I slid off Eric's chest, and standing naked beside him, took his hand and pulled him to the bed. I anxiously pulled back the top sheet and laid myself out like a vestal virgin on her wedding night. Eric, still harder than granite and yet to experience his initial orgasm of the day, eagerly joined me in bed and quickly mounted me with the tender enthusiasm of a thankful bridegroom.

Unfortunately, his first release came quickly and was not timed with my second coming, but I was not about to let that deter me. As he rolled onto his back, I gave him a few minutes to cool down, and then I gingerly resumed my oral massage of his swollen member. It took longer than anticipated, but I was able to restore his package to working condition, and assuming the doggy position, not so subtly indicated that I was ready to continue.

Though tired, he dutifully followed my lead, and once fully engaged, performed his manly duties with skill and grace - for a good five minutes. When neither of us reached our second nirvana, we both rolled to one side and continued without interruption. I threw my upper leg over his upper thigh, and we continued in the same doggy position, only cuddling. Within two minutes, this did it. As Eric cupped my breasts in one hand and softly massaged my clit with the other, I soon felt the crest of another wave enveloping my body. And as my second flood of feminine wetness filled my love canal, his second release was only moments away.

We were already lying on our sides, and as our mutual convulsion slowed, I think we were both asleep within minutes. The next sound I heard was Eric's alarm going off at six a.m. the next morning.

THURSDAY AND HOME AGAIN

Our flight home was at 9:30, and we were all told to be on board the bus no later than seven the following morning. It was only a fifteen-minute ride to the airport, but it was an international flight, so a fifteen-minute cushion made sense. Unfortunately, that only gave Eric and me one hour to shower, get dressed, pack, and be downstairs, ready to board the bus. We made it, but with no breakfast, not even coffee.

We were able to get coffee and Mexican pastries at the airport, and again, the flight was uneventful. But the big difference was Eric's demeanor. Rather than being anxious and nervous, he was cool, calm, and relaxed. I shared photos of the beach, the market, and selfies with Caitlyn and Hanna. And when I wasn't showing pictures from my phone, Eric talked almost non-stop. He shared stories of the movie shoot that I hadn't heard yet, and how this might really jump-start his career.

After landing at LAX, it took about an hour to get our luggage and make it through customs. And as we were standing in line, Eric texted Mom that we had safely made it back to the States. I'm not sure what else he said, but there was a brief flurry of texts back and forth before he slid his phone back into his pocket.

Once we had gotten his car out of the airport garage, the drive back to Burbank was nothing like the drive we had going to the airport, only four days earlier. On the drive to the airport, Eric barely said a word and intently followed a pre-planned route. During the drive home, he rarely stopped talking, mostly about how his career was about to take off, and his driving was perfectly normal. Changing lanes as need be, hurrying, but not speeding, and the happiest I'd seen him in weeks.

When we finally pulled into the driveway, my mom had obviously been waiting at the door. For as soon as Eric put the car in park, my mom shot from the house, almost delirious to see us. She ran straight to my side of the car, and as I stepped out, she hugged me as if we had been gone for months. "How was it?" she asked, bubbling with excitement. "Did you have a good time?"

"Yes, Mom, it was great," I said, still a little puzzled about what was going on.

Then after another deep hug and a quick kiss on the cheek, she ran around the front of the car to Eric and hugged him like I had never seen her do before. And as Eric hugged her back, she suddenly brought her eyes up to meet his, and after a second or two of looking each other eye to eye, they locked lips in a passionate kiss.

I waited at least a minute, and when their embrace seemed to continue indefinitely, I grabbed my rollaboard and backpack and headed for the house. I was now more confused than ever. Before we left for Mexico, she and Eric barely spoke. There was obvious tension between them. But now, they were clearly acting like a pair of crazed lovebirds.

It was over a year before I finally found out what had happened and how I had been used to settle their little lovers' spat. Eric spent the night that night, and soon moved in with us on a permanent basis. I finished high school that June and got a full-time job as a waitress at a nearby upscale restaurant. It was one that many celebrities frequented, and the tips were good. By September, I had saved some money and moved out of the house. Besides, Mom and Eric were clearly settling in on their new life together, and though I was still loved very much, I was sort of the third wheel of their relationship.

I moved in with several roommates, two girls and a guy. And over the next year, the roommates would come and go, but the ratio stayed about the same. I might add, it was purely platonic. To my knowledge, there was never any romantic interaction between any of them, and there certainly wasn't with me.

After about a year as a food server, I was moved to cocktail waitress. Some of the girls would not have welcomed such a move, but I loved it. The tips were about the same, and it was much easier work. Besides, it got me closer to the bar, and my ultimate goal was to be a bartender anyway.

One evening, while standing at the bar waiting for an order to be prepared, one of Mom's coworkers from the agency came in. She immediately recognized me and came over to talk. "Lauren, I didn't know you worked here. How are you?"

"Hi Shelly," I said. "Yes, I've been here for about a year. Ever since graduating high school."

"Are you still living at home?" she asked.

"No, I've been on my own for about nine months now. Eric moved in full time, and it was getting a little crowded."

"You get along with Eric, don't you?" Shelly asked.

"Oh, absolutely. But Mom and Eric need their space, and I'm an adult now, so I need my space as well."

Shelly stepped closer toward me and lowered her voice, then, in a gossipy whisper, said, "I'm surprised to see that they are doing so well together, I mean, after that big break-up about a year ago."

I immediately assumed she was talking about the week that Eric and I spent in Mexico, but I was surprised that she knew anything about it. "Oh yeah," I said. "But they worked through it."

Shelly pulled even closer, "I wasn't sure if you knew anything about it. But when Eric discovered that your mom was having an affair, right under his nose, I mean, the shit really hit the fan - if you know what I mean."

"Oh yeah," I said again, knowingly - even though this was news to me. "But I never heard who she was having an affair with."

"Oh, it was this client of the firm, Johnny Poole. Have you ever heard of him?"

"No," I replied innocently. "Who is he?"

The bartender had my order ready and set them on my serving tray. Glancing down, I saw that one of the drinks was a Cosmopolitan. Instead of immediately taking them to my customer, I slid the cocktail over to Shelly and signaled the bartender that I needed another. Luckily, he didn't question my unusual service and quickly brought me a fresh drink. Now that Shelly had a drink in her hand, she continued. "Oh, he's just some B-rate talent. But he thinks he's the next Erol Flynn, and I guess your mom fell for him, at least for a few weeks."

"Oh, a few weeks," I said, looking surprised. "I didn't know it went on that long."

"Yes, I think so - maybe even longer. I think that's what hurt Eric so bad, as I know he considered your mom and him to be exclusive."

"Yeah," I said casually. "But I didn't ever hear how they got back together."

"Oh, my dear," Shelly exclaimed. "That's the weirdest part of it all. To make up for cheating on Eric, your mom paid some woman to accompany him on an out-of-town shoot. I think they went to Mexico." The blood just drained from my face, and my gut did several flip-flops. But the bar was dark, and I don't think Shelly saw me go flush. She then added, "Oh, I hope I'm not talking out of school."

"Oh no," I tried to assure her. "So, do you have any idea who it might have been?"

"No, Lauren. I have no idea, and I just can't imagine any woman agreeing to such a trip in the first place."

"Oh, me either," I said as I picked up my tray and raced to the table that had been waiting patiently for their cocktails. But this news hit me like a sledgehammer. And it all of a sudden made sense. But it hurt me to the quick. How could she have done that, and why did Eric agree to it? And she must have given Eric the money that he gave me - saying that it was for shopping. I truly was hurt, and after about another hour or so, I asked the manager if I could go home early. I told him I wasn't feeling well, which actually was an understatement.

Back in my apartment, I mulled the entire trip over and over in my head. My mom had me sleep with another man. Her own boyfriend, no less. Just to compensate him for her own fuck-up. I don't know who I was more upset with, my mom or Eric. They had both conspired to make me a whore - and I didn't even realize it. How gullible I was, how stupid and naive. And Eric, he more than cheated with me - he fucked his soon-to-be step-daughter. And fucked me, and fucked me...

After missing the next two days of work, when I finally returned, I had gotten over my anger. But it had given me a new outlook on life. Male customers often flirted with me, and I decided to just see how far any of them would go.

About a month or two later, a customer I had served several times over the past year started flirting with me. I'm sure he was married, but when I started flirting back, he suddenly got very interested. After several drinks, he said, with a huge grin on his face, "I'll pay you a thousand dollars to sleep with me."

I looked around, and there didn't appear to be anyone paying attention to us, so I pulled my cell phone from my skirt pocket and said, "What's your phone number?"

He was stunned for a second, but realizing that I wasn't kidding, he rattled it off. I quickly typed it into my phone, and seconds later, the phone in his jacket pocket was ringing. "Answer it," I said. He did, and I hung up the call on my side. "That's my number, and my name is Lauren," I said as I pointed to my name tag. "I don't work on Mondays and Tuesdays. Give me a call."

When I ran his credit card, I saved his name and number in my contacts list and waited. The following Saturday, as if on queue, he called. "Hi Paul," I said as his name came up on my caller ID."

"Oh hi," he said, I think startled that I had saved his name. "I guess you know who this is?"

I also had his last name and employer, but I kept that to myself. "Yes, of course. I was hoping that you'd call."

Boy, that was all he needed. This was his lucky day, and as I could really use a thousand dollars, apparently, it was mine as well.

"Well, hi Lauren. Listen, I've got all night Monday. Are you available?"

Okay, now I hadn't really thought all is part through very well. I paused for a moment and trying to think on my feet about an overnight date, said, "Well, I've got about four hours. Do you think that would work for you?"

He may have been trying to do the hourly rate calculation in his head real fast. But after a second or two, he said, "Sure, that would be perfect."

"Dinner first?" I questioned, as I figured I might as well get a free meal out of the deal.

"Sure; where would you like to go?"

"Oh, surprise me," I said. "But make it close to your hotel, and I'll just meet you there."

There was another moment of silence as he realized he'd also have to spring for a hotel. But I assumed he was probably married and that he'd likely told his wife he was going out of town overnight on a business trip. So, he was going to have to spring for a room anyway. And so, it might as well be a nice one. "I'll text you the hotel," he said. And I quickly agreed.

About two hours later, I got a text, 'The Beverly Wilshire. I'll meet you in the bar @ 7:00.' Wow, I wasn't expecting the Beverly Wilshire. I wanted to go now just to see what a room there looked like. So, I quickly texted back that I'd be there. Now, what to wear?

I dressed in my sparkliest dress, a golden thong, and high-heel sandals. Checking myself out in the mirror, I thought I looked pretty good, and when I arrived, I realized I wasn't overdressed at all. I had no trouble finding Paul in the bar. We had a cocktail first and then walked down Rodeo Drive to Ladurée, a French restaurant in the heart of Beverly Hills. Returning to his room two hours later, we had straight sex, laying on his bed in the missionary position. However, in a way, I had never done it before - with my legs tucked in front of his arms and my ankles on his shoulders. It allowed for really deep penetration, and though I didn't actually have a full-blown orgasm, it was still very good. And it was also the first time I'd had sex since my last night with Eric in Mexico - and I badly needed it.