Salome's Garden Page 3

  But the more she sat and thought about it, the more the realisation dawned that being ‘safe’ had gotten her nowehere. Safe had brought her only repeated disappointment and hurt. Safe had certainly not been fun, and had in no way managed to infuse her body with the kind of rush she had experienced in Clarissa’s office! Just what had she got to lose by not playing safe? Not a lot, she had decided.

  She had eaten a small Caesar salad before leaving around eight pm in the back of a luxury blacked-out BMW. Butterflies had danced around in her stomach for the duration of the fifteen minute car journey, and then for the five minute walk from the underground car park into the hotel reception area. In the lobby, the woman on the desk had betrayed no suspicion about her reason for being there whatever she suspected. She had simply smiled and given Rowena directions to the function room where her wealthy clients were waiting. The smart blue overcoat beneath which Rowena had concealed her sexy outfit gave no other impression than that she was just another corporate guest.

  Arriving at the room situated on the top floor of the hotel, she had hesitated in a last second rush of nerves, then took the bull by the horns and knocked. Those three sharp raps had been the password to four hours of unbridled debauchery!

  Five guys of varying age had been waiting for her. They were all wearing white bathrobes and had ushered her politely into the large rectangular room, in the centre of which lay a huge mattress covered in a red satin sheet. A click behind her told her that they had secured the door, and it was then that she had finally committed herself to the task in hand. Memories of Clarissa’s office flooded into her mind unbidden and stoked up her desire to repeat the orgasmic high she had experienced just hours before.

  No words were exchanged. None were needed. She merely untied the belt securing her coat, and opened it to the evident pleasure of the five guys. At sight of her gorgeous body garnished in sensational black lace, they had all but hung out their collective tongues! They had parted like devotees before a goddess as she had volunteered her way to the mattress, where they had gathered round her in a lustful circle. As one they had discarded their robes as if they had been in flames, revealing to Rowena the full extent of the effect those few minutes of just gazing on her body had caused in them.

  Five erections all pointed towards her like needles on a compass. Five huge expressions of the desire this unknown group of guys needed to satisfy with her. In her! And over the next few hours they had done their very best to sate their lust in every possible way!

  The foreplay had been satisfactory from her point of view, certainly more thoughtful and considerate of her needs than she had expected or ever experienced with any other guy. Sure, these were guys like any other, eager for her to start sucking on their cocks in turn within moments of her squatting on the mattress. But they had not been ignorant of the need to prepare her for the main event, and had set about doing it like experts, which, Rowena realised, they probably were. How many other girls had this group of guys satisfied themselves with between clinching billion dollar deals? Their experience showed as they sought to arouse her to that point where she would at last be ready and aching to receive those huge dicks of theirs.

  And when that moment arrived an hour or so later, it was a case of no holes barred – literally! Five throbbing cocks seeking pleasure and relief in any which they could for three long and wonderful hours. Her pussy and her ass were pounded like the Somme, each dick driven in to the hilt to draw groans of pleasure flavoured with a touch of discomfort from Rowena’s glossy lips. The sexy underwear she and Clarissa had spent so long selecting that afternoon lay long forgotten and ignored in a heap beside the bed. It had served it’s purpose in introducing the delights of her irresisitible body, and now nothing other than partaking of the manifold pleasures that body offered could satisfy her clients.

  Just before midnight, her delightful ordeal had finally concluded in a deluge of spunk that drenched her hair, face and tits. Somehow she had managed to extract herself from the hotel without incident, finding Ridely waiting patiently for her in the car park, head buried in a copy of New Scientist magazine. It seemed an odd choice for someone in the escort business, but Rowena had been too tired to question him about his reading tastes on the car journey back to her flat. Ridley had kept flashing her admiring glances in the rearview mirror, and she had sensed that he would have indeed given anything to have been one of the contributors to the warm mess she had been so lavishly showered with. He had broken the silence just a couple of times, asking if she was okay and if they had treated her well. Her answers in the affirmative had killed any further conversation until they had parted company outside her apartment building with a promise from Ridley that Clarissa would call her the next day. Rowena had just nodded and said goodbye before climbing the stairs to a long soak in the bath and then bed.

  That was just six hours before. Rowena stretched again and climbed painfully out of bed to get ready for work. The previous day seemed as distant as a dream as she took a quick shower, dressed and managed to force down a bowl of muesli. As she listened inattentively to the local radio blasting out banal pop music, the thought of returning to work in the pharmacy seemed to her like a backward step into mudanity. The high of the previous day had left her desperately seeking to relive the experience more and more, and working behind a counter serving up methodone and repeat prescriptions hardly promised to compare. As eight pm approached, she unhurriedly slipped on her coat and walked to the bus stop with all the enthusiasm of a condemned man climbing the steps of the gallows. She made it just a few minutes before the bus appeared through the rain, and glumly watched as it travelled the remaining metres towards her. It took just twenty seconds for it to complete it’s journey, during which time Rowena had already decided she could not face work that day. And it was then, as if by a miracle, that her new mobile phone chirped salvation.

  ***

  “Hello again,” Clarissa beamed from her side of the desk, informal and friendly yet with the old air of professionalism that reflected nothing of the shennigans in which she had played apart in this very office just the day before. Rowena smiled back and took a sip of the coffee that Clarissa had poured for her on entering.

  Clarissa folded her arms and sat back slightly in her high-backed leather chair. “There’s a few things I want to talk to you about in regard to your contract with us. But first, let me congratulate you on a job well done last night. Very well done indeed!”

  Rowena felt the familiar flush burning her cheeks again, which was ridiculous considering the antics she had uninhibitedly taken part in recently! Clarissa pursed her lips and nodded approvingly.

  “You were a huge hit with those guys. I had a boatload of emails from them this morning, all praising your attributes of course, and the way you performed.” Clarissa’s eyes sparkled. “Apparently your oral is to die for, and your pussy is the entrance to heaven itself! They want to secure your services every time they happen to be in town. That’s a thousand pound deal alone for you every month.”

  Rowena gaped over her coffee. She shakily placed the cup back onto its saucer and whispered, “Did you just say a thousand a month?”

  “Yes, and that’s without any other clients. Of course, you are welcome just to sign up to service this one group. But I really, really hope you’ll consider becoming a full-time employee and taking on a weekly client list.”

  Rowena was still trying to take in the prospect of having earned more in four hours than she did in four weeks at the pharmacy. And to be able to earn even more in the same way was even more unbelievable! She nodded numbly.

  “I’ll do more than consider it,” she promised without a moment’s thought. Her life had suddenly gone from the sublime to the wonderfully ridiculous and she wasn’t prepared to risk losing this exciting new opportunity. “Last night was amazing, I don’t mind admitting.”

  Clarissa beamed brighter than ever. “And we think you are pretty amazing too, Rowena,” she said. “That’s why I want
to offer you twenty-percent on all your earnings. There are additonal bonuses – simple handjobs, BJs, or a guy who just wants to watch while you play with yourself for example, you can set the rate for those and keep everything. Normal would be a couple of hundred.”

  “God,” Rowena murmured. “No wonder it’s the world’s oldest profession!”

  “The oldest and most lucrative,” Clarissa said. “But Salome’s Garden is a high-class service for discerning clients as we said. That means any guy who wants you won’t be earning less than six figures a year. You are the best, Rowena, and they have to pay for quality.”

  Rowena had recovered enough to be able to finish her coffee. “So who will be on my client list,” she asked. “Is it fixed?”

  “There will be regulars of course,” Clarissa told her. “When you are as good as yourself, then it’s obvious that the customer will want to secure you again. Sometimes this will be every week, but mostly its every few weeks – even millionaires like to recoup their expenses before indulging again! This means that you’ll have a rolling client list, comprised of returning regulars together with the one-offs we always get. The guys who use us once for fun then we never hear of again. Usually virgins seeking enlightenment!”

  “Sounds fun!” Rowena grinned into her drink as she took a sip. “I’m already dying to get started!”

  “Glad you said that because we have a guy on our books who we think would appreciate you very much and we’d like to assign him as a regular of yours.”

  “Today?”

  “This evening,” Clarissa affirmed. “Presuming you’re fully recovered from last night’s little escapade, of course. I know from experience just how those epic sessions wear you out.”

  “Fully recovered,” Rowena assured her. “A few aching joints that’s all.”

  Clarissa laughed. “Goes with the territory, but you’ll find your body adjusting to all the manhandling after a while so that you won’t even notice it.”

  “Practice makes perfect,” agreed Rowena with a smile.

  “Can’t see how you could be any more perfect, Rowena Swift,” Clarissa said sincerely, handing over a piece of paper with a name and address written on it. “Okay, here’s the next guy lucky enough to be able to stick it in that warm, wet pussy of yours.”

  Rowena stared at the paper in disbelief, then glanced up at a grinning Clarissa.

  “Don’t forget to take your Bible for this one!” she chuckled.

  Unlikely Saint

  Rowena had been prepared for an eclectic mix of clients. After all, wealth had many faces, so she expected the likes of bankers, chief execs, venture capitalists – and even lottery winners – to be seeking her services. But to find a priest came as a complete surprise!

  More precisely, it was a pastor. Still, she figured that she shouldn’t be that surprised to find the randy reverend in enjoying the pleasures of sin. After all everyone knew that priests and pastors had a certain reputation. Spouting righteousness and morality in public then fucking everything that moved in private. Hypocrisy was their middle name. Still, the fact that this guy could afford to dole out almost a grand for her fee was telling. As was the shiny new Mercedes parked in the driveway of the detached double-fronted house standing back from the road in an exclusive suburb of the city.

  God was almost as lucrative as the escort business, she thought as she arrived at the door.

  Pastor Charles Davenport looked as polished as his name. Tall, square-jawed, with impeccably tended dark hair greying slightly at the temples. He opened the front door wide in welcome a few moments after she had pressed the doorbell, and stepped back in gentlemanly fashion as she entered into the expansive hallway fitted out with a luxurious chocolate brown shagpile. He closed the door and gestured for her to go on into the lounge. He followed and invited her to take a seat on the black leather sofa. Like everything else in this house, it was huge.

  “Can I offer you a drink?” he asked in crisp Oxford English. “Tea, coffee? Or maybe a fruit juice. I’m afraid I don’t have anything stronger as I have given up alcohol for Lent.”

  The irony was not lost on Rowena who suppressed a grin. “Just a sparkling water is fine,” she replied.

  “Yes, of course,” he said and filled her glass from a single bottle of water in his otherwise empty drinks cabinet. She accepted the drink, took a sip, and then placed it onto the occasional table in front of the sofa.

  “Not going to join me?” she asked, trying to make her tone sound as innocent as possible as she patted the empty space beside her. “Or have you given me up for Lent too?”

  She couldn’t help the wicked sarcasm! Davenport’s cool demeanour wavered for the first time since her arrival and he swallowed visibly. Holier-than-thou Bible-thumper or not, this guy had a lustful look in his eye that Rowena could not mistake. He moved to occupy the empty space at her side just a little too enthusiastically for a someone bound to resist the temptations of the flesh. As he sat down, Rowena noted the glint of the golden wedding ring. It made a change for her to be the other woman after years of being on the other end of inevitable male infidelity.

  It still amazed her just how easily she had settled into her new role. She had taken to it like the proverbial duck to water. And again here she expressed this continued and increasing confidence as she took Davenport’s left hand and placed it onto her thigh, just below the hemline of her flatteringly short skirt.

  “I have a confession, Father,” she whispered, leaning a little closer so that her glossy lips were just inches from his ear.

  “I…I’m not Catholic,” Davenport stammered. “If it’s absolution you’re after, then you need the church in the next street.”

  Rowena tilted her head and smiled. “Oh, but I think you’ll be interested in what I have to tell you,” she promised. She leaned even closer and breathed, “I’m wearing no underwear.”

  She saw Davenport tense at her admission and a furtive glance at the growing bulge in his groin told her that her words had affected him as she had intended. He gave a muted sigh of longing and Rowena decided to tease him further by encouraging his fingertips to prove her claim. He accepted her wordless invitation with the eagerness of a horny teenager, his hand sliding higher over her stockinged thigh until it disappeared under the hem of her skirt. Rowena widened her legs automatically to give him unimpeded access and licked her lips as his fingers arrived at her neatly shaven pussy.

  “Told you,” she said.

  “Oh, praise the Lord!” Davenport replied, his eyes actually lifted towards the ceiling. Rowena ignored this eccentric reaction – it took all sorts, after all! – and reached down to unzip the good pastor’s trousers before he exploded. He shuddered as her slender hand slipped inside and curled around the hard-on already straining for relief.

  “Bless you, sister,” gasped Davenport. “Great is your reward in heaven!”

  His holy exclamations continued as Rowena freed his manhood fully from the confines of his trousers and started to stroke it slowly. He was quite well-endowed for a religious guy, she thought, appreciating the bulging network of veins against her palm as she pulled back his foreskin as far as it would go and then stroked her hand back up to massage the swollen, purple head of his gorged penis. She was sure that he grew another inch as she performed this manoeuvre on him!

  Davenport squirmed a little in his seat as she gently masturbated him closer to glory! She would pause if he caught his breath urgently, signifying that she was pushing him to the limits of his endurance, only resuming when he gave a slight nod and closed his eyes to focus fully on the sensations she was arousing. As Rowena continued, she spotted the large drop of clear pre-cum seeping from his cock indicating just how successfully she was turning him on. It was a sure sign that he was getting more than his money’s worth from her.

  Sliding from the sofa, Rowena knelt between Davenport’s legs, lowered her head and took the foreplay to a scorching new level. The pastor groaned loudly as she enveloped his dick in h
er soft warm lips and slid the head all the way to the back of her throat. He grasped her head, twisting her hair in his fingers, all the while uttering his ‘Hallelujahs!’ and ‘Praise Gods!’ As her tongue swirled over his smooth helmet, she tasted his saltiness and lapped at him with her velvety tongue to milk more of his pre-orgasmic juices.

  “Thank you Lord for this, your daughter!” exclaimed Davenport and it was all Rowena could do not to giggle. Had it not been for the fact that the pastor’s cock was halfway down her throat, she might well have failed to resist the urge! The scene must have resembled something from a bad porn movie! Still, religious nut or not, he was a paying customer. If he wanted to extoll her delights to the big guy in the sky, that was his privilege. Her new career could do worse than receive divine endorsement after all!

  Ten minutes of giving head was too much for him to take. He begged her to stop and she looked up with her usual look of innocence.

  “The Lord has spoken!” declared Davenport as he desperately removed his trousers. “I am to infuse you with his holy power!”

  Well, that was one way of putting it, Rowena thought, happily hoisting up her skirt and turning her ass to him as she draped forward over the couch.