Cheating Bastard

While Joe puttered with his creation, Maya climbed on a stool at the breakfast bar. In a moment, Fran pranced into the kitchen. She was wearing black heels, thigh-high black fishnet stockings with bows, a pleated mini-skirt, and a white blouse tied just below her shapely breasts. Her blond hair was held off her face with a pair of rhinestone barrettes.

"Look at the naughty schoolgirl!" Joe exclaimed.

"Fran, you look like a teenaged slut. I love it," Maya said.

"You look pretty dangerous yourself, Maya," Fran said. "Stand up and let me see. Yes, simple pony tail, little black dress, and those shoes! Girl, you look amazing."

"I told her she looked good enough to eat," Joe said.

"Yes, she sure does. Are you sure you don't want to come with us, tonight, honey?" Fran asked.

"That's okay, I'd probably embarrass myself on the dance floor with Maya, and get in a lot of trouble with you, babe. But I'm starting to think I should hire some eunuch from a harem to be your bodyguard, ladies," Joe said.

"How much time do we have before dinner?" Fran asked. "I'd like to show Maya something."

"Will a half hour be enough?" Joe asked.

"Twenty minutes and thirty-nine seconds will do it. Maya, do you want to see my movie?"

"Your video?" Maya asked.

"Yes. Come on, it's not like you've never seen me naked before."

"But Fran,..."

"Maya, really, don't be embarrassed. It's just little old me. We were sorority sisters. We went to frat parties together. Hell, I met Joe at one of those parties. He saw some of your finer moments first-hand. So don't feel odd about it."

Joe spoke up. "I can stay in the kitchen if you like, but I enjoy watching that movie myself. After all, it's my wife getting fucked."

"All right," Maya answered. "I guess I am curious."

The three moved into the den, where Fran already had the disc in the player. Maya sat on the sofa, and Fran settled down next to her.

"Joe, would you start the movie for us?" Fran asked.

Maya sat and watched. She had watched porn before, and she had seen Fran do some pretty outrageous things, but this was different. Her best friend was now a porn star. The final scene in the movie was a close-up of the guy cumming on her face and boobs.

"You were there and watched the whole thing?" Maya asked Joe.

"Yeah. It was hot as hell," Joe replied.

"Weren't you jealous?"

"Envious. Not jealous. Fran and I discussed this for a while before she actually made the video. I went with her for her interview. Everything seemed okay, and they even paid for her to get a complete health exam before her actual audition. The director, Bruce, pretty much insisted that I come along, which made us both feel more comfortable," Joe said.

"We met in Bruce's office," Fran said. "The other actors and a few staff members were there. Bruce asked me to take off my clothes, which I did, and to pose in various positions. Then Bruce asked me if I would give Joe a blowjob while everyone watched."

"That was a little scary for me, at first," Joe admitted.

"But you liked it," Fran giggled. "Honestly, Maya, I never saw him cum so hard."

"Yeah, and I wasn't acting," Joe laughed. "The whole situation was a huge turn-on."

Fran laughed. "Dammit, it was fun. I think it actually improved our marriage."

"You should try it, Maya," Joe said. "You have a great body. You're beautiful and sexy. I'd sure as hell pay to see you."

"I could never do that," Maya said.

"Of course you could," Fran insisted. "You've had a little experience with a woman, and I know you love to fuck. I could call Bruce's office right now."

"I don't know," Maya said.

"Two thousand, cash, in your hand before you get dressed," Joe reminded her.

"I really have to think about this. I've never done anything like that before," Maya said.

"Neither had I, well, not since fart parties," Fran said.

"We did have our fun, didn't we?" Maya mused.

"I remember the frat party when I met you two," Joe said. "I think I fell in love with you a little right on the spot, Maya. Hell, you knew that. Fran knew it too. I still think that's the only reason she went up to my room with me that night."

Fran laughed and grabbed Joe's butt. "He's mine now, Maya."

"That's OK," Maya said. "For some reason, Gerry seemed like the ideal man. Older, a few laugh lines, really knew how to treat me like a woman. Your studly buddies were fun to play with, but I wanted something more."

Fran and Joe exchanged a glance. The both knew Maya was close to tears.

Joe got on his knees in front of Maya, holding his arms toward her. "Maya, I'm not going to let you cry."

Blinking her watering eyes, Maya said, "I'm not sure I can stop."

"I'll stop you," Joe whispered, pulling Maya toward him so he could look in her eyes.

"You can't, please, you can't do this."

"Can't do what, Maya," Joe said, barely audibly. His mouth was now only inches from Maya's. "Why can't I,... TICKLE YOU!" He dug his fingers into Maya's sides as he yelled in her face.

"You sonofabitch!" Maya shrieked. In seconds she was laughing hysterically. "FRAN! Get him off me!"

"I'll make him stop on one condition," Fran said. "You have to promise me you'll have a good time tonight. No tears, no pouting, no heavy silences. Promise?"

"Yes!" Maya squealed.

"Stop, Joe," Fran said. She was working very hard to keep a straight face.

Joe immediately stopped squeezing Maya, but kept his hands lightly on her heaving sides. "You think she meant it when she promised?" he said, winking theatrically at his wife.

"I'm not quite sure," Fran said.

"You shitheads, I promised! God!" Maya giggled, looking a little exhausted.

"Shitheads? Oh honey, I don't like the sound of that," Joe deadpanned.

"Nope," Fran said.

Joe's fingers attacked Maya's taut belly this time.

Maya shrieked with laughter. "I promise, dammit! Stop, please!"

Joe immediately stood up. "Let's eat, ladies. Honey, help Maya into the kitchen. Damn, she looks like she just got fucked."

"More like gangbanged," Fran laughed, helping Maya to her feet. Come on, honey, we'll eat first. Then we'll fix our hair and make-up. I have some ideas."

At eight o'clock, a taxi pulled into Fran and Joe's driveway. The ladies came out.

Both were in their original outfits, but Fran's hair was now in pigtails. She wore a hint of blush, making her look like the little slut next door.

Maya's dress had wrinkled slightly, but rather than spend too much time on making it look crisp and fresh, Fran insisted on re-doing Maya's hair and eyes. The smokey-eyed woman who walked out of the house looked just a little dangerous, her long dark hair lightly teased into stylish disarray, giving her the look of a woman who had already taken what she wanted once that night.

The club was an immense place. There were a lot of younger people there, and some of the young men stared openly as Maya and Fran passed by. The huge main dance floor was surrounded with small elevators made of steel mesh. These took riders to balconies, which had dark lounges and small dance areas of their own.

"Nice place!" Maya yelled in her friend's ear over the music.

"I think so. Come on, we're going upstairs," Fran called, dragging Maya by the hand.

The elevator doors opened onto a carpeted balcony. A wall of windows overlooked the dance floor below, muting the noise of the main club. There were a few conversational groupings of sofas and chairs. At the far end, glass doors formed the entrance to a small lounge.

"We'll start here," Fran said, leading the way. "Now, the group up here last time was mainly singles. Seemed like a light, fun-loving crowd. No heavy pervs. Ready?"

The girls opened the door and stepped into a dimly lit lounge. One wall was taken up by the bar, a massive structure of carved and fitted wood. Booths lined the opposite wall, and tables for two or four were in the center of the room. At the far end was a small dance floor with a few couples moving slowly to the soft music.

"I can almost imagine Marlon Brando sitting in the corner," Maya said softly.

"Yes, this a great old-school night club. Let's get a drink," Fran said, turning toward the bar.

Fran pulled a card out of her purse to hand to the bartender. "We'll run a tab," she said.

"OK, miss, but the first drink for you and your friend are already paid for," the bartender said with a smile. "Put that away. You may not need it."

"Who paid for our drinks?" Maya asked.

"A gentleman never tells," the bartender said. "That's part of the fun. You have to decide if you want to figure it out."

Fran's card never did get any charges on it. The girls spent the entire evening in that lounge, talking, laughing, and dancing with a variety of men. Maya danced several times with a graying gentleman, who could have been old enough to be her father. He was an excellent dancer, holding her with a grace she was not accustomed to. His entire manner spoke of wealth, taste, class, and power. Maya found herself intrigued with the feel of his still-muscular body against hers.

In the taxi on the way home, Fran said, "You had a good time, didn't you?"

"That was wonderful. I was all ready to have guys pawing at me, with the way we were dressed, and with what I saw downstairs. It was kind of refreshing after last week," Maya said.

"You liked that older guy."

"He was nice. Made me feel like a lady. I could forget my problems for a minute when I was talking to him or dancing with him," Maya said.

Maya was able to pick up additional hours at her job. She continued her search for other employment, even trying to find a second job with no success.

She hired an attorney, and began the process of tracking Gerry down and fighting for a settlement. She was able to renegotiate her mortgage, and she slashed her living expenses wherever she could.

It wasn't enough. Gerry had a far more powerful attorney. It quickly became clear that Gerry was perfectly willing to give Maya a divorce. He proposed a settlement surrendering his half of the equity in the house, but he wasn't willing to give her a cent beyond that. If necessary, he would tap into old family money to beat her and her attorney into submission.

She finally hit her low point the day she got the notice threatening foreclosure proceedings, along with another letter threatening to disconnect her electric service.

"Fran?" Maya said when her friend answered the phone.

"Hi Maya! How are you doing?"

"I'm out of ideas. I'm out of time. I'm going to have to sell the house and find a cheap place to live."

"You could stay with us until you got on your feet," Fran said.

"No, I'm not going to impose. You guys have done so much already. And I won't take a loan from you. Joe already suggested that to me," Maya said.

"I could make a phone call," Fran said.

"To Bruce? I don't think I can make a video. I can't bear the thought of people seeing it, of Gerry maybe seeing it."

"Have you made dinner?" Fran asked.

"No."

"We need to talk. Come over now. You can have dinner with us," Fran said.

It was during dessert that the subject finally came up. "Do you want me to call Bruce?" Fran asked. "Joe and I can give you the money to pay this month's mortgage payment, and you can pay us back after you make the video."

"I just can't do it. It's not a moral thing. Hell, it's not like I'm a virgin. It's not like I'm really married anymore. I don't think I'd have a problem fucking a hot guy, especially since Gerry is with Miss Better-than-me. I just don't want my face out there," Maya said.

"There are other aspects of the adult industry," Joe said. "I'm calling Bruce. I'm just asking questions."

Fran cleared the table while Maya sat and struggled not to bite her fingernails. Joe was in his den on the phone.

Joe came back into the kitchen and sat down next to Maya. "If you want, Bruce can see you on Sunday for an initial interview. He knows a lot of people. There is work available that is a little more discrete than the video industry."

"Like what?" Fran asked.

"She could be an escort."

"An escort? You mean a prostitute?" Maya asked incredulously.

"That's the word I used, and Joe quickly corrected me. Escorts do not necessarily engage in sex. Since prostitution is illegal most places, escorts are simply being paid to accompany a gentleman as a date. What happens in private on that date is up to the couple, much like it is on a real date in the more conventional usage of the word."

"So she'd be arm-candy? Just someone helping a guy enjoy a night out?" Fran asked.

"That's what I got out of it," Joe replied. "Apparently there is a demand for attractive young women who are willing to accompany men to parties, concerts, and other social events, or just a night out on the town."

"That doesn't sound so bad," Fran said.

"I'm not interested in getting raped by a guy just because he has money," Maya protested. "How safe is this?"

"The agency screens all it escorts and clients. They do background checks, psychological testing, and health screening. Bruce tells me the girls must turn in a report within twenty-four hours after a date, answering questions about the guy's manners and attitude toward them. If they don't, they don't work again. If they trash the guy, he can't use the service again," Bruce said.

"All right, I'll go talk to him," Maya said, "as long as you two go with me."

"Bruce insisted we be with you. He wants to talk to us about you too," Joe said.

On Sunday, Joe and Fran picked Maya up at her house and drove her to an expensive neighborhood on the outskirts of the city. When they pulled in the driveway, Maya said, "This looks like the place where your video was shot."

"Yes," Fran answered. "Bruce uses his own home occasionally, or the homes of friends in the industry."

Bruce answered the door. "Fran, Joe, good to see you. And you must be Maya," he said, taking her small hand into his large one. "Come in."

He led the three into his living room, where a stunning woman in her mid-forties waited. "Felicia, meet Maya," Bruce said.

Felicia shook hands with everyone, and pointed Maya to a loveseat opposite the sofa where she had been sitting. "Maya, I don't know what pre-conceived notions you may have about escort services, but let me briefly explain how I run mine. The primary service our agency provides is companionship. We do not consider ourselves to be a call-girl service. We are more of a dating service, catering to an exclusive clientele of gentlemen who desire the company of a beautiful woman for an evening. Let me explain how it works.

"Everyone employed by the service, myself included, receives a payroll check. If I hire you, I will pay you five hundred dollars per date. You will be on a ten-date probation. I will speak to you after every date. After the tenth date, I will take you to lunch and discuss the reports your clients will have filled out about you. To keep things fair, I will also ask you to file a report with me after every date. At your evaluation, we will discuss increases to your pay, along with your preferences for future dates. Do you understand?"

"Yes, ma'am," Maya answered.

Felicia laughed and reached out to pat Maya's knee. "Please call me Felicia. I really try not to sound like a businesswoman, but I guess I don't do a very good job. Now, there are a few more things you must remember. Prostitution is illegal. You will be an escort. For at least your first three dates, you and the client are to observe a no-intimate-contact rule. You will not be scheduled for more than one date a week during that time.

"Here's the good part. Once you are comfortable with intimate contact, there is no negotiation necessary with the client. They understand they are to pay you one hundred dollars cash for manual stimulation, two hundred fifty for oral sex, and five hundred for intercourse. Most of the gentlemen will also give you a small tip or gift in addition. So, if you've had a, hopefully, enjoyable evening, you'll go home with eight hundred fifty dollars tax-free cash in addition to your five hundred dollar payroll check."

"What types of men do you have for clients?" Maya asked.

"Because of our fee structure, we tend to attract only well-off men. Many of them are successful businessmen, political leaders, sports professionals, and entertainers. Do you have a preference?" Felicia asked.

"Look. My husband ran off with another woman. I don't think I can be with a married man. I couldn't be a party to the destruction of some other woman's life," Maya explained.

"We can match you only with men who are single, widowed, divorced, or legally separated, but I will tell you that may slightly limit the number of clients you can be with."

"At least at first, I'd appreciate that," Maya said.

Felicia looked serious as she spoke. "In this business, discretion is key. Your dates will not disclose much about themselves, and you are expected to retain a certain amount of anonymity with them. All communication between our clients and our escorts is done through the agency. These men are never to enter your home. You will be picked up by a car service or taxi for your dates, and all dates will begin in a public place. You will be provided with a cellphone, which will be the way in which we communicate with you. This phone is to be with you at all times, and there will be a text code you can use to allow us to pick you up from a date, should you be uncomfortable with any situation you find yourself in.

"After your probationary period, you will be expected to undergo another health exam, and when you have progressed to physical-contact dates, an examination is required after every third one. This is always done at no expense to you. Our doctors are available at any time, so this requirement should not interfere with any other employment you have. Do you work presently?" Felicia asked.

"My office job is nine to five weekdays," Maya said.

"That will work out well," Felicia said. "We can schedule you for evening or weekend dates only. We'll discuss this before you actually begin work. Here are phone numbers for our health care providers. If you say you're Felicia's friend, they'll know what you need and will bill it to me."

"When can I start?" Maya asked. "I'm sorry to sound so anxious, but I really need the money."

Felicia opened her purse and handed Maya an envelope. "Here's a thousand dollar cash signing bonus, honey. Call for an exam appointment tomorrow. I'll personally build some fires under a couple of well-paid asses to get you through all the preliminaries. If you want, we can meet again next Sunday to schedule your first date."

On Sunday, Maya rang the bell at Bruce's house again.

"Hello, dear!" Felicia exclaimed as she opened the door. "Come in!" She embraced Maya, kissing her on the cheek. "You are a healthy, more-or-less emotionally stable, model citizen. Plus, you're gorgeous. Come, let's sit down."

Maya followed the beautiful older woman into the living room, and they both took the same seats they had used the previous week. Maya had come alone, and Bruce was not in the room.

"Maya," Felicia said, "I'd like to talk to you about your first date. Can you be free Thursday evening? There's a gallery opening. A long-time client and personal friend of mine would like to take an attractive young lady to it. Roberto is an artist in his own right. His lovely wife passed away a few years ago after over thirty years together."

"He's an older man?" Maya asked.

"He competes in triathlons and could pass for forty-five. I believe you would like him. He's a perfect gentleman, wealthy, cultured, and very handsome. I've sent a lot of new hires out with him. He's good for their nerves, and they're good for his ego. If he likes a girl, he'll usually give her a nice pair of earrings, even when all they do is shake hands goodnight," Felicia said.