I don’t know what happened. Maybe I wasn’t the lover that she had dreamed of. Maybe I didn’t listen carefully enough when she needed to vent. Maybe I hadn’t sent enough flowers or call often enough. Maybe, just maybe, she met someone new. Whatever the cause, I was single and as lonely as hell.
It was time to get away and go someplace my ex and I had never been. Staying in Chicago had too many memories … like summers at Wrigley Field or a night ride on Navy Pier’s Ferris Wheel or getting drenched like a couple of seven year olds under the Crown Fountain in Millennium Park. Chicago had only memories.
Seattle sounded nice but it always rains in Seattle and anyway, it is too far from the Windy City. I decided on Salt Lake City where I could hit the nearby slopes and ski for a couple of weeks each winter. There is something about being in the cold fresh air surrounded by mountains and powdered snow that is so invigorating. I needed my batteries recharged big time.
Stepping off the plane, I took the escalator downstairs to the car rental kiosk before heading downtown to my hotel. The flight from O’Hare had been delayed and it was a bumpy ride. Oh yes, and she was very much on my mind. I needed a drink! After checking in at the hotel, I went straight to the bar.
I’m havin’ a few and wishin’ you were here
Oh yeah, I’m drinkin’ again
It’s always the same, that same old story
After the kicks, there’s little old mixed up me
Tryin’ to lose a dream that used to be.
— from “Drinkin’ Again …. Mercer/Tauber, composers
Anyway, I was waiting for my second drink when a woman, who looked to be in her early thirties, sat down within speaking distance from me. She wore a tight black skirt just above the knees showing off her exquisite legs and tight ass. Her purple blouse clung to her breasts for dear life and a simple pearl necklace accentuated ample cleavage. She was pretty but looked tired.
The waiter arrived with my second martini. I turned to the woman and said, “You look like you could use a drink. Can I buy you something?”
“Oh yes! That would be very kind of you,” she said with an accent that I couldn’t quite place.
“Where are you from?” I asked with my curiosity getting the best of me.
“Vegas. Well that’s were I’ve been for a couple of years. How about you?”
“Chicago,” I said, “but I’m thinking of relocating. By the way, my name is Maurice Price.”
“I’m Natasha but everyone calls me Tash.”
“Hi, Tash. What are you drinking?
“Oh, that martini looks delicious.”
Now I know it’s a shame,
I can’t think of your name,
I remember your smile!
I don’t ordinarily drink with strangers,
I most usually drink alone.
You were so awfully nice to ask me,
And I’m so terribly far from home.
—– from “Something Cool” … Billy Barnes, composer
“Waiter, bring the lady a martini, please.”
I moved to the chair nearest Tash so we would might have a more private conversation. We chatted with the usual small talk topics like the weather and what we’ve been doing in Salt Lake City. She had done some shopping and had met a friend for lunch. On the other hand, I hadn’t much to tell since arriving only a few hours before. We were hitting it off well enough so I asked Tash to dinner. “Yes, I’d like that,” she said.
Dinner was, let’s say, eye popping! At first we searched for something we had in common. I liked jazz. She liked hard rock. I liked Picasso, She liked Rembrandt. There really wasn’t much that connected us. I mentioned that my work involved computers. Mostly I was an independent contractor dealing with technology issues for businesses in the city. Tash listened but didn’t say much.
Finally I said, “You have an interesting accent. Where is it from?”
“Oh, I was born in the Ukraine.”
“Interesting!” I said. How did you get to America?”
“It is a long story, Maurice.”
“Tell me about it.”
Tash sat quietly for awhile, then said, “I haven’t thought about this for a long time. Some of it is a little painful.”
“OK, but I’m always interested in people from other places. Tell me your story if you can.”
“As I said, I was brought up in the Ukraine. When I left school, there were no jobs so girls like me were willing to do just about anything to get money. My best friend said there was a guy in town offering great jobs at hotels and restaurants in Germany. Three of us decided it was our best chance even though none of us wanted to leave home. The man put us on a bus to Kiev where we joined other girls on a train taking us to Poland for a two day stopover. The people taking us were very kind and we had good food. Finally we got back on the train but we didn’t stop in Germany. They said we misunderstood and would find jobs in Holland. Amsterdam is where we got off and were put in a dingy hotel. A man came into my room and said, “We have a job for you but first you need to show me your talents.”
“I didn’t understand at first but when he unzipped his pants and let them drop to the floor showing his intent, it was easy to understand the “talents” I was to show him. At first I buried my head under a blanket but he grabbed my head and forced me to take his erect penis in my mouth. I had done this with my first boyfriend so it really wasn’t so bad. Later that evening, another man had me show off my other talents. I was forced to strip naked and then he had sex with me. Two other guys had their way with me before I was allowed to sleep. I was in tears all night.”
“That is unbelievable,” I said, “but how did you get to this country? I was hooked on her story at that point hoping she wouldn’t stop.
“Well,” she continued, “most girls worked in the Red Light district in Amsterdam but I was taken to a little town not far away called Haarlem where I serviced mostly men for two years. I was only 18 when I left the Ukraine and at 20 became one of the most asked for girls in the ‘Penthouse.’ That’s where I met an American who helped me escape to the States. He took me to a place called Buffalo. Guess what? He saw an opportunity and used me. He was my pimp but there was a difference. This time I lived in a nice room in a fancy apartment and men paid plenty for an evening with me. It was elegant, often romantic and I was making good money. It might sound strange but I began to love my situation in America.”
With a quizzical expression I said, “OK, but you are in Vegas now.”
“OK, that is right. Buffalo is small with bad winters while Vegas is warm and where the action is. I had learned to use a computer and realized that the Internet gave me some independence. I put up a web page advertising “personal services” and got lots of hits from different cities. In fact, several adult video producers contacted me so I tried that for awhile. I left my Buffalo apartment and traveled to California to try out my acting skills. The good thing was that there wasn’t much to learn that I didn’t already know. I’m now 32 and there are so many younger girls working in the adult entertainment industry, I decided to be an escort. I own my home now and travel a lot. Sometimes I travel to meet clients. In fact, that’s what brought me to Salt Lake City.”
After finishing dinner, I hardly looked at the bill as I wrote Room #247.
We thanked each other for the company and wished each other well as we parted. I stopped by the concierge to ask what entertainment was available in Salt Lake City. To my surprise, there was a jazz concert at the Capitol Theatre not far from the hotel and tickets were still available. Settling in my seat at the theater, a “warm up group” was on stage finishing their set soon to be followed by the Jeff Hamilton Trio. It turned out to be a thrilling evening of jazz as his group put on a fabulous show with standing ovations followed by standing ovations. As I left the theater, it struck me that tonight just might be my lucky night as my mind raced back to Tash. I couldn’t get her out of my head. “What a jerk,” I thought to myself for not asking her to join me at the theater. Even if she had said, “No,” we might have had a few more minutes or even hours together after dinner. On the way back to the hotel, I kicked myself for being so stupid.
The hotel was teaming with guests mulling about the lobby. “Mr. Price, there is a message for you at the desk,” said the bellboy as he greeted me at the door.
“Thanks,” I replied with little enthusiasm figuring it was real estate agent I had contracted before leaving Chicago. It wasn’t.
“Hello, I’m Maurice Price. I said at the desk. “You have a message fpr me?”
“Oh yes, Mr. Price.” She reached under the desk and gave me a small package.
“Curous!” I thought. Who the hell knows I’m here?”
Once inside my room after throwing my coat on the sofa, I opened the package. Inside was a DVD. From the pictures on the cover, it was clear that it contained “adult entertainment.” A little note was attached that said, “Thought this might be a nice companion on a wintry night. Thanks for dinner, Tash 302.” Looking on the DVD’s back, it said “Staring Natasha.” among others that I did not recognize. And there she was in all of her glory with picture perfect boobs hanging over a guy’s hungry mouth as another fella fucked her doggy style from the rear. OK, maybe this was an invitation, maybe not. What puzzled me was the 302 but it had to be a room number.
I called Room 302 but there was no answer so I left a message saying, “If this is Tash, give me a call in 247. Thanks, Maurice” Luckily, this hotel had a DVD player along with a 42 inch flat screen TV. The movie was a rather ordinary porno flick but Natasha stood out above all the other performers. She could deep throat like no woman I had ever seen as she swallowed some guy that had to be at least 8 inches. Her part in the film ended with a nice creampie as cum oozed out of her pussy with her wearing only a seductive smile.
The next scene was of some girl with tiny tits taking a DP. She screamed so loud I almost didn’t hear the phone ring. “Hello, Maurice here.”
“Hi, this is Tash,” she answered with that delicate Ukrainian accent. “You got my package. Did you like it?”
“Of course! I loved it. You are terrific! I’d love to see you tonight if you have some time,” I said anxiously.
“Hmmmm … well, give me a half hour and then come up. It’s room 302 but you already figured that out. See ya,” and abruptly hung up.”
This gave me time to take a shower and change so at 11:30 I was in the elevator going up to the third floor. Room 302 was just around the corner from the elevator and as I turned in that direction, a man was leaving a room that appeared to be 302 but I couldn’t be sure. I knocked gently on the door so as not to disturb the neighbors. The door opened and standing before me was a beautiful woman dressed in see-through baby doll lingerie. It was Tash. Her large classic breasts were easily visible as was her artistically shaved pussy. It was shaved but with a little V shaped bush above her slit.
She gave me a hug and said, “Really glad to see you again, Maurice. Did you have a good evening?”
“Yes and right now it has gotten a whole lot better! How about you?”
“Well, it was fine, only the guy you saw leaving my room didn’t want to fuck me. He just wanted to tell me about his troubles. That happens a lot and I end up feeling like a shrink instead of a, well, you know, a well paid roommate. Anyway, the strange thing is he is an elder in the Church and every time I come to this town, some important guy from the Church has contacted me.”
“Interesting. How much do they pay?” I asked with a quiver in my voice.
“Five hundred and up depending on the services and they also pay for the room and transportation. You can see it’s quite an investment by the congregation.”
Apparently, I had a look of disappointment. That’s when she sat on the bed with her legs slightly apart giving me a tantalizing view of her cunt and said, “Look, Maurice, the room is paid for, there is no transportation fee, and you bought me dinner and a couple of drinks. What if we call it even?”
At that point she slowly spread her legs further apart giving me an unobstructed view of her pussy lips. I stood transfixed as if paralyzed.
“Maurice, don’t just stand there staring. Come closer to me. Do you like what you see?”
“Very much. You are beautiful, Tash.”
She reached out to unhook my belt buckle in a slow deliberate way, unzipped my fly and unfastened the pants button allowing them to slide to my knees. Only my shorts were an obstacle between my rock hard cock and her lips. Delicately Tash lowered my briefs over 7 inches of throbbing manhood. It stood pointing up at an angle that only happens when I have a raging hard-on.
“My, Maurice, you are so big and hard,” as she wrapped her fingers around my pole teasing the head of my sensitive organ with her tongue. Pre-cum gave her a taste of what was to cum. I felt like the man in Amsterdam asking her to show her talents.
“Maurice, we need to get you out of all those clothes if we’re going to play. Did you bring a condom?”
“Well, Tash, I wasn’t planning on …”
“She cut me short and said, “That’s OK. If we need one I have some in my purse. For now, I want to play with Mr. Dick and for you, Mrs. Pussy would like to get to know you better.”
With that, I pulled off her baby-doll leaving both of us the way Mother Nature had intended and ready to exchange body fluids. The king sized bed featured a half dozen pillows like in many hotels and I stacked them behind Tash so she could sit up with her back comfortably resting on the pillows. I liked this for several reasons. First, seeing her ample breasts hanging naturally was a turn on and they were so lovely to look at. Her nipples were extraordinary examples of perfection. Sitting beside her was a convenient position to pinch, suck and lick those delicious nipples. My fingers were in easy reach to probe the folds between her sumptuous legs and explore her clit,. Those captivating legs were now spread wide apart inviting me to discover all of her feminine charms. Tash’s nipples responded as I licked and suckled them and her pussy became juicy as my fingers found her G-spot. I was surprised. Even a whore can get turned on.
Tash had been massaging my prick while I played with her girly assets but it was time for me to get some relief. Straddling her body between my knees, I crept up so that my cock would have a close and personal relationship with her succulent lips. It was clear she liked to tease. At first she played with my balls touching them lightly and delicately then circled the head of my stiff dick with her tongue raising the ante in this little encounter. Finally and expertly she took me in her mouth, past her lips, over her tongue, beyond her tonsils and down her throat. I had never had a woman give me such fantastic head! Saliva dripped down to my balls saturating them as they continued to be fondled. Occasionally Tash reached back to stick a finger in my ass for some welcomed anal stimulation. Continuing to engulf my straining cock. Tash came up for air every so often but took me down time and time again until I exploded deep in her throat. With each ejaculation she gagged trying not to drown in my cum.
Finally she released me and said, “Goodness, Maurice, I thought you’d never cum but when you did, you nearly suffocated me.” You must not have had sex for a very long time.”
She was right. I hadn’t fucked a woman in over a year and hadn’t even jerked off for a month. There was plenty of spunk saved up for a night like this and the night was still young.
Tash showed me some tricks of the trade as we fucked until we were both exhausted. It must have been three in the morning when we fell into a deep sleep. When I awoke, Natasha was gone. The first thing I checked was the time and it was almost 10:00 giving me plenty of time to meet with the real estate agent at noon. I took a quick shower and dressed but got to thinking maybe Tash left me paying the bill for room service and the room. If so, I was OK with that considering the personal services rendered. On the night stand was a little card. It was Natasha’s business card that read, “Personal Services Anytime, Anywhere. Call me!” It included a phone number and an e-mail address. On the back side she wrote, “Thanks Maurice, it was fun.”
It was indeed!
Seems it’s always the same
Getting paid for being laid
Guess that’s the name of the game.
— Elton John