He looked across at her quizzically and waited for her to continue. He valued her opinion, and he knew if she felt the issue was serious, he should pay attention.
“It is about protection. Tonight I am sure you were prepared for the activities of the evening, and you cleverly and very discreetly noticed I was prepared as well with the condoms placed conveniently within your reach on the nightstand. I compliment you on retrieving one without interrupting the flow of the act. However, you may feel a certain amount of trust in me; do not be so foolish as to place this much trust in other women, especially women of child-bearing age. You are a very handsome man, and there will be those women who wish to bear a miniature copy of you. You would not be the first man to fall prey to a ‘pinhole’ in a seemingly sealed condom. Always bring your own protection. The application of the condom should never disrupt the flow of the moment. For bold women, you may suggest they put it on for you; it will enhance the experience. For shy or inexperienced women, you should always handle this with finesse and sensitivity. Protect yourself and your future partners from any of those ugly diseases. They will appreciate you even more if your actions display concern for their well-being as well as their sexual satisfaction.”
Trevor understood the importance of what she advised him and appreciated that she cared enough to bring it up. It was a delicate subject, and a reminder of his own responsibility in the sexual act did not hurt.
“Thank you, ma chère. I will be mindful of my responsibility in protecting myself and my clients,” he said. He had been curious about the melon wedges on the tray and took this opportunity to change the subject. “Do the melons have a special meaning?” he asked.
“No, not at all. In fact we were supposed to have the melons and champagne before the lesson,” she replied simply.
“But if we are setting a romantic tone, why would you have melons and not strawberries? Or, better yet, chocolate-covered strawberries?” he persisted.
“Well, my dear, it may not apply so much in our situation. But if you ever want to really impress a lady friend, you will try this. Bear with me as I must demonstrate. Strawberries can be bitter sometimes; chocolate makes the teeth not so pretty and leaves a chocolate smell in the mouth. We have not had any melon wedges yet, so this demonstration will work quite nicely. Kiss me,” she instructed.
He rose from his chair and stood in front of her and gave her a brief kiss on the lips. He was surprised when she raised her eyebrows and looked disgusted.
“Mon Dieu! How do you expect to keep women calling you if you do not know how to kiss them avec passion?”
“Wait a minute, you didn’t ask for all that,” he countered and pulled her up from the chair and into his arms. He kissed her lightly at first and then coaxed her willing lips apart and slipped his tongue into her mouth. His tongue enticed hers in a brief but very sensual tête-à-tête.
As he began to pull away and end the kiss, she forgot this was a test and instinctively stood on tiptoes to follow his retreating tongue and extend the moment. Then she caught herself and realized how easily he’d swept her in and made her lose her head. He would be a dangerous lover, and women would pay dearly to be with him.
“Okay, much better,” she agreed and then continued. “Tell me, what do I taste like?”
“Huh? Uh, champagne? Honestly, not much of anything. Sorry,” he confessed.
“My point exactly. Now let us each have a melon wedge.” She offered him the bowl and ate a few of them herself. “What does your mouth feel like now?” she asked.
“Well, actually, it feels refreshed and clean,” he commented thoughtfully.
“Now kiss me again.”
He repeated his performance, but this time their mouths tasted sweet and alluring.
“Wow!” he said playfully. “You really taste good.”
She laughed and smiled warmly at him. His kiss had started those tingling sensations all over again. “Ready for lesson two?” she asked as she dropped her robe on the floor and sashayed naked back toward the bedroom.
“You’re just trying to kill me,” he protested weakly as he downed the last of the champagne and returned the glass to the table. He tossed his robe in the chair and then stretched and flexed his muscles. His body was already poised for the next challenge as he followed her lead.
Claudette enjoyed many young lovers over the years, but none after Trevor, who held a special place in her heart. She explained the rules of the service business: never give your true name, never be seen in public with a client, and never take a client for granted or make her feel cheapened by her need for his service. Women would have different needs and desires, which would drive them to call him, but they should never feel sullied by giving in to those desires.
Trevor spent a year as Claudette’s lover before she fell ill and her health no longer permitted the sexual escapades she so enjoyed. Up until his arrest, he still visited her once a month to check on her. He would sit by her chair in the library and plant feathery kisses on her wrists. She would lean back in the chair, enjoying the sensations and reliving the memories.
A loud scuffle in the corridor brought him sharply back to the present and his dismal surroundings. He lay down on the cold metal cot and again pondered how he ended up in Cook County jail.
3
He’d been in the business for about eight months when he first met Paige. He immediately recognized something different in her. There was a sense of vulnerability about her that wasn’t evident in the other women he was servicing.
She opened the hotel door and gazed up at the tall, handsome stranger in the hallway. Immediately she experienced second thoughts. What was she doing? Did she really call this man here to have sex with her?
“May I?” he asked in a deep voice as he arched an eyebrow in her direction. Conflicting emotions were doing battle in her head, and the uncertainty was etched on her face.
“I’m not sure what I was thinking when I asked you to come here,” she began nervously. She stepped back and allowed him to enter the room. He walked through the doorway and glanced around. It was a standard no-frills hotel room: queen bed, end tables, dresser, and TV armoire. He noticed the curtains were drawn tightly, preventing any outside light from filtering in. The door automatically closed behind him.
He observed her nervously shifting eyes and wringing hands. She was an attractive woman. Slim of build, smooth tan complexion, and small waist. Her breasts were rising and falling quickly with her sharp, short breathing. He, too, began to wonder why she called him, but then he stopped himself. He never knew what drove women to call him. He just complied with all reasonable requests. After all, that’s what they paid him for.
“I’ll still pay you. But I’ve changed my mind,” she explained haltingly.
“Are you sure?” he asked kindly. “We can go very slowly if that would make it more comfortable for you.”
Paige finally looked up into his warm brown eyes. He was an extremely handsome man, and it had been a very long time since a man touched her in any way. She longed to feel his body next to hers, if just for a short while. “I don’t want to sound stupid, but could we just get in the bed and be close for a while. If that’s okay?” she asked timidly.
“Sure, whatever you want,” he said, resisting the urge to check his watch.
“I—I’ve never done anything like this before. When do I pay you? Now?” she asked, reaching for her purse.
“You know what my fee is. My preference is for you to leave