Tags

, , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,

When I called to tell them I was on, Jackie answered the phone.

“Honey, please tell me you’re on.”

“I’m on.”

“Oh, good.  I need you.”

“Hey, I was on all weekend, and I only worked one session!”

“Only one?”

“Yup.”

“Well, I’m going to work you today.”

My first call came twenty minutes later.

“All right, sugar.  His name is Norman.  He’s a regular.  He’s on Jane Street.”

I wrote down the address and apartment number.

“Listen, honey, I think he might be black.  It’s hard to tell from the phone.  He’s a regular, but I’ve never met him, you know.”  She laughed.  “Is that a problem?”

I couldn’t believe Jackie was asking me if it would be a problem if Norman was black.  Jackie was black, so that must be kind of weird for her.  How would she feel if I told her I was too good to have sex with black men?  That would be awful, but luckily Norman and his skin tone weren’t a problem. I was just glad to be working.  I jumped in a cab and made my way to the West Village.

Norman was black and very attractive.  I knew I would have no problem having sex with him, even if he was the first black man I’d ever fucked.

(This escorting job was all about first times: first time fucking for money, first time fucking an Indian, first time fucking a guy over 40, first time fucking a stranger, first time fucking a black man, first time fucking someone from South Carolina…)

When I walked into the apartment, Norman was freaking out about the answering machine.  He was in the master bedroom, which was littered with baby paraphernalia—crib in one corner, bottles and diapers scattered across the dresser, little toys on the floor.  Baby and wife were nowhere to be seen.  Norman stood over the answering machine, frantically trying to delete a message Jackie had left for him, confirming the apartment number.  He kept saying, “Fuck, she’s gonna kill me.  Fuck, I shouldn’t have used my real name.”

It took almost ten minutes, but eventually the message was deleted, and he turned his attention to me.

“Your wife?” I asked.

“Yeah. She’s in Atlantic City today.”

I nodded.

“She won’t be back for a while.”  He thought for a second.  “Actually, let me call her to see where she is.”

He called his wife.  She was already almost at the George Washington Bridge.

“Fuck,” he said, freaking out.  “We don’t have much time.”

I tried to look sad.  This might be a real easy session.  What luck.

Norman sat on the bed and took off his shirt.  He slowly looked me up and down.  “So Jackie says you’re the best.”

“Really?  That’s nice of her.”  I wasn’t sure what to say.

“Are you?”

I had absolutely no idea how to answer that.  “The best?  I don’t know.  I’m definitely pretty good.”

He looked pleased.  “She made me check out your pictures on the internet and stuff.  They’re pretty fly.”

“Thanks.”

“So it says you do porn movies?”  Norman lay on the bed, one hand behind his head, still studying me.  I could tell he was fascinated.

“Yeah.  That’s true.”

“What’s that like?”

“It can be fun.  It’s pretty hard work, though.”

He seemed really interested.  The more we talked, the less time there was for sex.  I told him about how weird it could be, how it was the most unsexual sexual thing you could do, at the same time that it could be a really erotic experience. And then it was time for us to get started.  We had slightly more than half an hour until his wife would be getting home.  Norman was definitely nervous, but I was getting good at being the aggressor.  Our clothes came off, except for his thick white athletic socks, and we kissed.  I gave him a condom, we fucked, and it was all over in about ten minutes.  Like clockwork.

At one point, soon after we started, he placed my hand on his ass.  “Can you put your finger in there?”

“Yeah, I guess so.”  I laughed.  “But I’ve never done it before.”

“Oh, really?  Then forget about it.  I figured you’d know how.  She always does it too hard.”

“Is ‘she’ your wife?”

“Yeah.”

After he came, he got up and pulled his shorts back on.  “I’m so sorry to rush, but she’s going to be home soon.  I don’t mean to kick you out.  I’d love it if you could stay, but she’s on her way back.  Fuck.”  He was clearly very aggravated that his plan hadn’t worked out as intended.  “She was supposed to be gone all day.”

“That’s okay,” I said reassuringly.  I was thrilled to be leaving so soon.  “We can do it again some other time.”

“You don’t go up to Harlem, do you?”

“What do you mean, for work?”

“Yeah.”

“I don’t know.  I guess I could.”  I figured if the agency covered Long Island and New Jersey, than Harlem shouldn’t be much of a stretch, but I wasn’t sure if they had safety restrictions or something.

“It’s kind of far up there.”

“I really don’t know,” I said.  “Why do you ask?  What’s up there?”

“That’s where I hang out with my buddies.  It would be easier to get you up there.  This is my home.  This gets tricky.”

“I don’t see why it would be a problem to get up there.  I could just take a cab.”

“There’s no way I could get your number so I could call you direct, is there?”

“No, I’m sorry.  But you can just book me through Jackie.”  There we were again, the familiar slick phone maneuver. Why did they all want my number?

“Okay.”  He sighed.  I guess he was used to this routine.  How often did girls actually comply and give out their number?

“Would you mind taking this out with you?  I don’t want her to find it.”  He handed me the used condom.

“No problem,” I said, completely amused.

“I should have called you last night!” he exclaimed.  I could tell he didn’t want to let me out the door, and it was tearing him up that his wife’s arrival was imminent.

“Why? What did you do last night?”

“I was just up late gambling.  Nothing exciting.  But I should have called you!”

I smiled appreciatively, kissed him goodbye, and left, used condom held gingerly in my fingers.  I tossed it in the lobby’s trashcan and called Jackie to tell her I was done.

“I’m outta there.”

“Already?”

“Yeah, his wife’s coming back early.”

We both laughed.

“Hey, honey, was he…black?”

“Yes.  But good looking.  Do you want me to come by the agency or do you want me to go back home?”

“Go home.  I’ll call you for the next one.  I’m trying to set something up for you at 3.”

“Okay.  Just remember I’ve got to be done by 5:30.”

“No problem.  Are you going to be on later tonight?”

“I don’t think so.  I think that’ll be it.”

“Okay, sugar.  I’ll call you soon.”

Advertisements