“I’ve always wondered what limo drivers did while they were waiting for their clients to finish doing whatever they were doing,” a woman said as she slid up beside me.
I dropped my last quarter into the slot machine and watched two cherries and an orange jiggle into position on the horizontal bar, then turned to the redhead I’d first seen that morning at the airport. The company I worked for had sent a fleet of six limos to pick up arriving members of Escort Services International, and I was driving one of the black stretches assigned to the group for the next five days. I hadn’t been quite as lucky as a couple of my fellow chauffeurs. My client was one of the corporate executives—a friendly enough guy—but I would have much preferred to drive the escorts to the Palace. My current companion had been one of a group of sleek, sophisticated women who deplaned looking as if they’d just stepped out of the pages of Cosmo. Even though they were all great looking, she stood out for me. I think it was her obvious confidence and self-assurance. She clearly didn’t think being a high-class call girl was anything to apologize for.
I motioned to the beeper on my belt. “These mean we don’t have to lurk at the curb any longer.”
“What do you do instead?”
“Most of the guys congregate in the lounge and talk about sports or girls,” I replied. I’d shed my black suit jacket and loosened my tie when I’d started feeding the one-armed bandit an hour ago. I saw her give me a slow once over, and I hoped my white shirt wasn’t wrinkled. She looked just as good as she had earlier. Her shoulder length red hair was wavy and thick, and she’d left it loose. She’d changed into a casual pair of black Capris and a sheer pale blue blouse, and the lacy cups of her diminutive bra were visible as they cradled her full breasts. I think I must have stared a little too long because when I glanced up, she gave me a knowing smile. I’m sure she was used to people assessing her body, and I suddenly didn’t want to be relegated to the category of those who mindlessly lusted after her. Even if I did have a flash of mindless lust imagining what it would be like to get my fingers inside those frothy bits of white lace and lift her breasts out into my hands.
“You don’t care for the topics?” she asked.
I struggled to remember what we had been talking about before my brain dropped into my crotch. Oh, right—sports and girls. “I like them both, in the right circumstances. But I prefer action to conversation.”
She signaled to a cashier and bought a paper container filled with 400 quarters and set it on the narrow shelf in front of my slot machine. Without taking her eyes off me, she started dropping coins into the slot. “And what’s your favorite sport?”
“Poker.”
“You live in the right town then.”
“That’s what I thought when I moved out here,” I replied. “I still do.”
“And what about the girls?”
“What about them?”
“If you don’t like to talk about them, what do you like to do with them?”
I caught her wrist as she was about to slide another coin into the machine. Her face registered surprise, then interest as I pulled the coin from between her fingers and dropped it back into her bucket. “It depends on how much time I have.”
“Some things don’t take a lot of time.”
“And some things are better if they do.”
She nodded, as if liking my answer. “Why did you stop me?”
“I was afraid you’d get lucky and we’d be tied up collecting your winnings.”
“You have something else in mind?”
“My client said he wouldn’t need me until after midnight. That’s a little over four hours.”
“That’s a lot of time.”
I picked up the cardboard container and tucked it under my arm. Then I took her hand. “That’s just enough time. Would you care to join me for a drink?”
“I’d love to. I’m Erica, by the way.”
I told her my name and led her away. We’d gotten halfway across the casino floor before she pulled on my hand to slow me down.
“Something wrong?” I asked.
“I was just wondering where we’re going, since the lounge is in the other direction.”
“I thought somewhere private would be nicer.” When she didn’t reply, I drew her through the crowds, down a long hallway, and outside to a small private lot where the limos were parked. At eight in the evening, there was enough light for me to see her clearly, and I could tell she was surprised. Her eyes, which were very nearly turquoise, shaded to a darker blue and her lips parted wordlessly when I opened the rear door of the stretch and motioned her inside. I imagined she was used to feigning excitement and pleasure, and I liked the fact that she hadn’t expected this. The tinted windows rendered us invisible.
“What would you like to drink?” I asked, rapidly running through the rear controls to turn on the interior lights and the sound system. The auxiliary systems in the limo ran off a self-contained power unit, so I didn’t need to start the engine. I found some sensual jazz, then opened a small refrigerator built into the rear of the partition dividing the front compartment from the spacious area reserved for clients. Two leather bench seats ran at right angles along the rear and the side opposite the doors. Erica sat in the center of the forward facing seat and crossed her legs.
“I would love a martini. Can you do that?”
“I can.” I reached for the vermouth.
“Full service chauffeur?”
I hesitated for a second, then reached for the Stoli. Somehow, I knew she’d be a vodka martini woman. I wasn’t sure how to phrase this without suggesting criticism of her. “I’ll pretty much do anything the client requires.”
“Does that include providing specialized services?”
“Not personally, no.” I handed her the drink after dropping in an olive.
She sipped it, murmured appreciation, and regarded me over the rim of the glass as I settled on the seat next to her. “You don’t perform sexual favors for your clients.”
“No, but part of my job is to arrange an escort for them if called upon.”
“I see.” She cradled the martini glass in one hand and drew my tie through her fingers with the other, tugging me closer with each stroke. When her mouth was a fraction away from mine, she whispered, “What if the client requests you?”
“It depends on the client.” I licked the surface of her lips which were tinged with the taste of alcohol.
“What if the escort requests you?”
She tilted the glass toward my lips and I sipped her drink. “None ever has.”
“Until now.”
Erica straddled my lap and wrapped one arm around my neck while she sipped her drink. At some point, she’d kicked off her heels, but I hadn’t noticed. She settled her ass on my thighs, swallowed the rest of her martini, and deposited the glass on the small tray above the adjoining seat. Then she hooked a finger around the knot of my tie and dragged it down until it hung in two thin black lines down my chest.
“I’m on vacation. Well, not really a vacation,” Erica amended. “A working holiday.”
“Working?”
“Not in the usual sense of the word,” she said with a smile as she slowly unbuttoned my shirt. “There’s talk of a union and health benefits and other organizational details. I’m here to advocate, not see clients.”
I raised my shoulders and Erica pushed my shirt down my arms, but when I would have pulled my hands free of the still buttoned cuffs, she stopped me, leaving me with my arms tethered at my sides. The unexpected restriction caught me by surprise, and so did the quick pulse of excitement that shot through my body and coalesced between my legs.
“Do you mind?” Erica asked lazily as she kissed my jaw, then my neck. “I so very rarely have a chance to call the shots.”
“I’ll bet you’re always in charge,” I said, my breath coming fast as Erica played her fingers over my chest, “except…no one knows it.”
Laughing, she pushed her hips further back on my legs and curled forward to kiss the center of my chest. “It is possible, of course, to pretend to be led while really leading, but it’s so much more fun not to be in the closet about it.”
“I want you to have fun.”
She regarded me seriously while rolling my nipple between her fingers, very slowly and very hard until my stomach contracted and my hips raised off the leather bench. “That’s very nice of you.”
“Not nice.” I thrust my hips, hoping to bump my clit against her crotch. I ached for a little contact to diffuse the building pressure. “Pleasing women is what I need to make me come.”
“Maybe we’ll both try it differently tonight.”
She sucked my nipple, scraping her teeth around and around the edges until I was so wound up only the back of my head and thighs were still making contact with the seat beneath me. When she slipped one hand between us and squeezed my crotch, I shivered and jerked away.
“I’m sorry,” I gasped, “but I’m not used to this.”
“You don’t like it?” She covered my breasts with her hands as she slid off my legs and knelt on the floor. I opened my thighs without her asking and she licked a warm, wet trail down the center of my stomach.
“I like it. I’m just, I can’t…I was afraid you might make me come. And I don’t usually…that way.”
She shook her head, obviously pleased, and unbuckled my belt. Again, without being asked, I lifted my hips and she pulled my clothes down until she could get in close between my thighs. She kissed my clit. “Of course you’re going to come.”
When she sucked me, I made a sound that didn’t sound like me at all. I didn’t want her to stop. I loved the way her lips closed around me, hot and incredibly soft. She probed and teased me with the tip of her tongue, a torture so sweet I closed my eyes and prayed she kept going. And then there was nothing except her mouth, her lips, her tongue, and a pleasure so deep I begged out loud for more. When she moaned, the vibration shot through me as if a switch had been thrown on an electric current. I ripped my hands free and gripped her head, tangling my fingers in her hair, and wrenched her mouth away.
“Stop,” I groaned. “Too much.”
Stunned, she stared at me, her expression nearly pleading. It was then I realized she had opened her slacks and was masturbating while she pleasured me with her mouth.
“Please,” she whispered, “you’re close.”
“So are you.” I grasped her shoulders and coaxed her upright. “Come first. For me.”
For a second, I thought she would refuse, and although my mind was hazy with the nearness of my orgasm, I realized she wasn’t used to putting her pleasure first. I hooked my fingers in the waistband of her slacks and eased them down. “Straddle me. I want to touch you.”
Her eyes never left my face as she bared herself and knelt on the leather seat with her legs on either side of my thighs.
“Open your blouse,” I whispered, spanning her narrow waist with my hands, my thumbs almost meeting in the center of her abdomen. I dragged my hands down her sides and watched her fingers tremble as she worked the buttons loose on her blouse. As I danced my fingers over her smooth, tight thighs, I leaned forward and sucked her nipple through the lace of her bra. She moaned deep in her throat and drove her fingers into my hair, holding my face firmly against her. I cupped her with my palm between her thighs and she rocked back and forth on my fingers. She was hot, so hot, the way only a woman aroused can be. I spread my fingers and let her slide her clitoris between them, setting the pace.
With a flick of her hand, she opened her bra and let her breasts fall free. I rubbed my cheek over one, then the other, and sucked the smooth skin. Her thighs trembled on either side of mine, and I wrapped an arm around her waist to support her.
“I’m almost coming,” she whispered, rocking erratically in my hand.
“Hold on, if you can.” I steadied her hips between my hands and guided her forward until I could cover her clitoris with my mouth.
“Oh God,” she cried in surprise, and I felt her jerk between my lips. “Oh, I’m coming.”
I sucked and licked her, one arm around her waist to keep her cleaved to me, and grasped my clitoris with my other hand. She rubbed herself over my mouth, coming for a long time while I came fast and hard with only a few strokes.
“What happened?” she murmured as she dropped into my lap, turning sideways so I could cradle her in my arms. “That didn’t go the way I planned.”
“I guess I’m just used to driving,” I answered, resettling her blouse around her shoulders so she wouldn’t get cold. I kissed her as she relaxed against me. “Sorry. I know you had something else in mind.”
“No. I liked it. I liked exciting you. I liked you exciting me.” She looked up at me. “I didn’t really have any plans beyond seducing you.”
I laughed. “Well, you definitely succeeded. I’m sorry I have to go back to work later.”
“Maybe we can do something about that.” She reached behind her and between my legs, sliding her fingers over me. I was sensitive from coming, and when she fondled my clitoris, I groaned. She murmured, “Oh yes. We should definitely do something about that.”
“I don’t think so,” I said, practically choking on the words. “I have to take your boss somewhere later.”
She stopped what she was doing, but kept her hand over me. Then she kissed me. “He’s not my boss. He’s my operations manager.”
“What?” I wasn’t thinking very clearly because if she kept pressing where she was pressing, I was going to come again.
“I’m not an escort,” she whispered with her mouth against my ear. “I’m the owner.”
“Uh…I…”
She laughed, and as I started to come, she added, “And you’re my new driver.”