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At what point are you just… talking, and at what point are you making love? How do you know? Is there a boundary there that is demarcated, beyond which you have crossed a line?
Miriam thought about that afterwards. The route she had travelled from heterosexual, faithful companion to… what? Her current status? What was that? The route had been so easy. Painless. Pleasure.
It could be argued that Michael had set her up. She supposed there was some merit in that view. But she could have withdrawn at any time – Chenise had made that clear. Chenise… the name lingered on the tongue, and Miriam smiled to herself as the plane jolted into the beginning of it’s slow taxi to the runway.
It was also true that the events of the evening were going to remain confidential. Whatever happened between Miriam and Chenise would stay with them. Miriam could not deny her own freedom of choice, her…culpability.
Miriam closed her eyes, contemplated the previous evening’s events. She had spent the day at the exhibition, attending a handful of relevant discussions. She had been there for three days, though, and her thinking was as focused on packing her suitcase for the trip back home, as it was on anything else. She left early, in fact, to slip back into her hotel room and unwind. The idea of getting out of her business suit, the slightly-too-tight pumps, and into a steaming bath seemed irresistible.
And so she was more than slightly taken-aback when she entered her hotel room to find Chenise waiting for her.
How to describe her? Not quite slim; voluptuous, in fact. Miriam smiled quietly to herself. Of course, that was the point. Chenise had the body that filled out clothing, gave it definition. Full breasts. Sensual lips. Warm, laughing, darting brown eyes. Rich, jet black hair falling naturally across her shoulders. A total lack of guile in her expression. No innocence, though.
The hotel room had a small alcove at the window, a two-seater and two single chairs looking out onto the garden. At first, Miriam didn’t see Chenise at all. She walked in, dropped the exhibition paraphernalia on the table, kicked off her shoes and turned to slip into the bathroom for a quick leak. At that point she caught a movement out of the corner of her eye, and realised that Chenise was sitting on the two-seater, wine glass in hand, contemplating her with a smile.
Miriam’s first response was mild shock and embarrassment; it took a moment for her to realise that she could not have walked into the wrong room – she had used a card key to gain access. She stopped, unsure what to say, but Chenise pre-empted her. “It’s OK – Michael sent me.” Miriam still stood immobile, until Chenise laughed. “Go take your pee, hon. I’ll be here when you get back.”
First things first, then. But as Miriam relieved herself, she pondered who this was. She came out of the bathroom momentarily and walked over to the alcove, casino oyna not sure how to proceed.
She began with the obvious introduction, holding out her hand cautiously. “Hello – I’m Miriam.”
“Hello. My name is Chenise. I am sorry that I took the liberty of opening a wine, but Michael said that it would be fine.”
“Michael?” Miriam was puzzled. Michael was three hour’s flight away, at home.
“Yes. I need to explain I suppose”. Chenise suddenly laughed. She wasn’t as young as she appeared at first – probably mid-twenties. Her laughter spoke of a self-assurance that seemed rare. “I poured you a wine as well, by the way. I hope you don’t mind.”
Miriam shook her head, then took a seat facing this strange woman, in a strange town, waiting for an explanation.
“Hmm. This can be difficult, I suppose”, began Chenise. “I should start at the beginning, I suppose.” She paused. “Firstly, Michael and I have never met. I have only spoken to him on the telephone. He gave me all your details earlier today.”
“Lucky you”, responded Miriam. “That’s more than he did for me.”
“I know.” Chenise leaned forward and placed one cool hand against Miriam’s arm. “Don’t be cross with him, ok?” She uncrossed long legs as she leaned back. Her eyes never left Miriam’s. “I work for an agency, ok? We look after people who are… away from home. Men, usually. Occasionally, women.”
The words hung in the air between them for a long time. Chenise seemed to be watching for a response. Eventually Miriam snapped out: “You mean you’re a hooker? How does Michael know you?”
Chenise took a slow, elegant sip from the wineglass. “Not directly. He was given the agency’s number, as far as I know. Anyway – I have never met him, as I said.”
“So Michael hired a… ” Miriam seemed to have difficulty finding the word… “a WOMAN for me? You must be sadly mistaken, Chenise. I don’t sleep around, and certainly not with a woman!”
“Well…” Chenise pursed her lips philosophically. “I can’t say much about you, or about Michael’s thinking. I can only say this.” Chenise leaned forward to refill her glass from the, still, almost full wine bottle, then looked directly into Miriam’s eyes. She clearly had no shame. “I’m paid for. For the whole night. I’m yours. To finish this wine and then vamoose, or to polish your shoes, or to give you a neck massage, or to jut spend some time talking, to help you pack… or… to… do… more.” She looked at Miriam through a fringe that had falling across deep brown eyes. “What happens between us stays between us. Just you… and… me.” She sipped her wine achingly slowly, then tilted her head to one side and smiled. “You ever had anyone who’s only function is to do what you want them to do, to show you what you want to see, to say what you want to hear, to touch what you want them to touch, to… lick… what you want them to lick…?”
Chenise was flirting shamelessly now. slot oyna How often had she used those words? Not often, probably: her clientele would require very little convincing. Her tongue stroked her upper lip slowly, a blade. “Having someone completely, absolutely, under their sexual control. Most people would find that very erotic.”
Miriam’s mouth had gone dry, even though she had no intention of pursuing this. Chenise was talking slowly, almost whispering. “Some people get such a hungry look in their eyes, when they tell me to take off my little girl panties, to let them look at my pussy. To sit back for them, open my legs.” She dipped her tongue coquettishly into the glass of wine. “You’d swear some people had never seen a shaved pussy before…” As if mimicking the circumstance, Chenise leaned back in the two-seater an uncrossed her legs. For a fleeting instance Miriam had the impression of this hairless… mound, and her eyes flitted down to the hollow in Chenise’s skirt. Chenise noticed the glance – of course she would – and she leaned her head back against the chair. “Maybe I’ll show you later…”
Miriam felt slightly disorientated. The events were beyond anything she could think of. “Look”, she started. “I don’t know what Michael told you. To be honest, I don’t even know what he was thinking. I don’t like girls. All; I want to do is get into a hot bath, pack my clothes, and get ready for the flight tomorrow. So – I don’t want you to think you’ve wasted your time, but perhaps you’d better leave.”
The plane was accelerating now, shuddering with the rage needed to hurl it into the sky. Miriam turned her head to look at the runway racing past her window, but she was actually remembering Chenise’s response.
“I understand”, Chenise had said. “I don’t know Michael, and I don’t want to intrude. I’m sure you want to get him on the phone and discuss this with him in detail!” She laughed.
“Yes”, Miriam replied drily. “I really do.”
Chenise put the glass down. “Poor Michael. Guys!”, she shook her head, laughing. “Always want to get women in bed together. They find it so sexy.” She looked straight into Miriam’s eyes. “All we have to do is kiss and they go rock hard, you know? I’ve watched it.”
Again, the sudden dryness in Miriam’s mouth. She realised that she was more distracted than she should have been, when really she took be taking Michael’s head off. But Chenise was friendly, non-threatening. And how often did one get to talk this frankly with a hooker? Was her interested piqued just marginally? “I suppose you do this often, then?”, she asked.
“Usually just men. Away from the wife and some money to spare. Nothing special. I call them sweetie, lie back, open my legs, and they can’t hold it in long enough for me to get my shoes off. Mostly it’s just a living. Sometimes, though… sometimes it gets interesting. I know you want me to go, but can I finish my wine first?”
Miriam nodded. canlı casino siteleri “Sure. No need to waste a good bottle. Michael’s paying for it, anyway!”
They both laughed.
“So when does it get interesting?” Miriam asked.
Chenise smiled. “Oh you know. Different reasons. None of us just gets turned on by only one thing. Boys who save up their money to make me the first time, you know? That’s special in a way. I tend to do them slowly, make them sit and watch while I strip, maybe put on a show for them.”
“A show, sure. Touch myself, let them touch. Suck them until they want to burst. Make it special for them.”
Chenise stood up and walked to the window. The sun was streaming through now, and Miriam realised that Chemise was wearing no petticoat; stunning legs framed the skirt, kept it in a tent ‘A’ shape, emphasized by high, calf-arching heels. Chenise turned around to face her, and she was a dark, elegant silhouette now, features lost against the bright light illuminating the room. As she spoke, Miriam couldn’t see the lips move, couldn’t see her eyes, even though she knew that Chenise would be watching her closely. “But what I enjoy most is the wives who finally get up the nerve to explore their own bisexuality. When they’re nervous and wordly, scared to touch and demanding as hell.” She paused. “Never paid for sex. Wondering whether a woman kisses differently. Lipstick on lipstick. Sometimes trying to stop me pulling off their panties, then helping me do it. When it’s new for them, and wonderful, and soft and urgent. An awakening.
“That’s when it’s special for me.”
Miriam looked away, picked up her glass and took too big a swallow.
Nicole leaned backwards, head against the pane of glass. Was this the point at which they had started making love? Miriam wandered to herself, watching the first flecks of cloud drift past the passenger window. When she realised that she didn’t want Chenise to leave? Not yet. When she wandered to herself what that meant. Chenise’s words were almost hypnotic now. “Women who don’t know they want me. Until they want me.” And then, assuredly and slowly Chenise leaned down, raised her hem, slid her hands under the skirt. As the skirt raised, Miriam saw the sheen of dark pantyhose – or were they stockings? – framing legs slightly parted, illuminated through the sunlight dipping away now to the horizon. Thumbs found the elastic at the top of panties. Both women stayed silent as Chenise drew her panties down, inch by slow inch, a sensual transparency against sunlight, window frame, transparent skirt, panties sliding down long legs until they fell freely onto Chenise’s feet and Miriam saw they were black, delicate wispy things. Transparent. Lying loose, partly on the floor, partly on high-heeled feet.
Miriam’s mouth was absolutely dry now, her heart having acquired a life of it’s own.
“My little girl panties are off, Miriam”, said Chenise. “Do you want me to pull them up again?”
Miriam was silent, transfixed by the sight of the soft stuff lying between Chenise’s ankles.
“Or are we going to take a little girl bath… together?”
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