Cordelia Renfroe stood motionless on the weather-beaten porch, her feet rooted to the rough planks as if they'd grown into the wood. The ancient boards creaked beneath her weight, their protests lost to the pulse of blood rushing through her ears. She stared at the door, the once regal mahogany now cracked and faded from years of exposure to the relentless desert sun. Its tarnished brass knocker leered at her, daring her to grasp it, to seal her fate.
She'd been standing here for what felt like an eternity, locked in an agonizing battle between her desperate, clawing desire and the ingrained propriety that had governed her life for so long. Waves of scorching heat rolled off the sun-baked earth, smothering her in a sticky, relentless grip. The wind carried the heady musk of sage, mingled with the sickly-sweet perfume of jasmine, so thick she could taste it coating her tongue.
Cordelia's palms slicked with perspiration, and she wiped them on the wool of her tailored charcoal-gray trousers. The part of her that craved order and decency recoiled at the thought of knocking, of crossing the threshold into this sacrilegious temple of transgression. What madness had seized her, that religious, straitlaced Cordelia Renfroe would seek out the most highly-rated brothel in all of Nevada – that she would come here, to this godless wasteland, in pursuit of a woman whose very name evoked images of sweat-soaked sheets and nights of searing, unspeakable bliss?
Kayleigh Sucks. The whispers had reached even Cordelia's sheltered ears – whispers of a woman so mesmerizing, so skilled in the art of sin, that men and women alike were helpless to resist her inviting echo. They spoke of her as if she were a mythical deity, mentioning silken, sunlit tresses, eyes that danced with the cool gleam of sea gems, and lips that whispered sweet, sinful invitations. Yet, it was the detailed accounts of Lindsay’s mastery, how she utilized her lips, skillful hands, and the expressive language of her body, that kindled a deep, unyielding desire in Cordelia, consuming her to the core.
"Kayleigh is a force of nature. Spent an evening in her sweet embrace and I swear, I still haven't recovered. That woman knows things, I tell you. Things that will blow your mind and leave you begging for more."
Several weeks ago, Cordelia stumbled upon Happy Ending Ranch's website. Exotic, sensual visuals of scantily clad women in provocative poses filled the homepage, making Cordelia’s libido churn and her thighs clench. However, amid the visual feast, it was the evocative images and a singular, standout name emerged from the colorful chaos, seizing her attention with overwhelming force.
Hands shaking, Cordelia clicked on the link, and a new page loaded. There, below the airbrushed photographs and logic-defying descriptions of Lindsay's many charms, was a bulletin board alive with chatter about the industry's most sought-after courtesan.
"Best piece of ass I've ever had," another crowed. "And trust me, I've had plenty. Kayleigh is in a class all her own."
Scrolling through the testimonials, Cordelia felt a surge of anticipation. Each entry painted Lindsay as a sorceress of the senses, whose skill left an indelible mark on her admirers, stoking a fervent curiosity in Cordelia to experience the deity firsthand.
But it was the most recent post that truly ignited Cordelia, almost as if her bloodstream had been infused with a potent, fiery elixir.
“As a woman, I feel compelled to share my encounter with Kayleigh, where she induced an incredible orgasm that transcended my senses, creating an almost divine experience that defies explanation.
“With her intuitive touch and deep, soulful connection, she awakened a part of me I didn't even know existed, a primal, untapped well of pure emotion. In her arms, I felt more alive, more authentic, and more profoundly understood than I ever have before. She saw through the layers of my public persona and societal roles to the innermost sanctum of my being, and in doing so, freed me from the weight of my own inhibitions and self-doubt. The sheer intensity of our encounter left me feeling liberated, renewed, and utterly transformed.
“It was as if, through her touch, she had unlocked a hidden doorway within me, one that led to a more vibrant understanding of my own desires and my place in the world. If you're seeking more than just physical stimulation, if you're yearning for a profound, soul-deep rapport and an illuminating odyssey of self-discovery, then Kayleigh is the woman you've been dreaming of.”
Cordelia sat back in the chair, breath hitching in her throat. The ache between her legs had grown into a maddening throb, and her mind reeled with taboo images – breathless kisses and tangled limbs, ecstasy and abandon. Was this what she had been missing all these years, trapped in her listless, pedestrian life? This heady rush of desire, this irresistible lure of sapphic gratification?
Cordelia had always been a creature of logic and restraint, taking refuge in the cool, impersonal world of numbers, in the comforting absolutes of her ledgers and spreadsheets. There was no place in her life for chaos, for the messy entanglements of lust and passion. And yet, here she was, trembling on the precipice of the unthinkable, every nerve in her body screaming for an outlet, for the infinite delights that only Kayleigh Sucks could provide.
Her eyes stung with unshed tears of shame and self-recrimination. What right did she have to indulge in such unsavory activities? How could she even contemplate degrading herself so, abandoning every principle she held dear in pursuit of fleeting nirvana? The burning between Cordelia’s thighs reached a fever pitch, a tormenting reminder of her body's treachery.
In the distance, a coyote cut loose a long, mournful howl, the eerie sound slicing through the gravid, late-afternoon air. Cordelia raised a small, trembling hand, poised to grasp the knocker. The metal was startlingly hot under her fingertips, almost branding in its intensity. Sucking in a ragged breath that seared her lungs, she curled her fingers around the weighty brass, the point of no return looming before her like the gaping maw of Hell itself. In that moment, the sum of her fears, her long-suppressed yearnings, and the wild, reckless thrill of surrender coalesced into a single, inescapable pull. Her body shaking, Cordelia knocked, the sound echoing through her bones like the toll of a funeral bell.
For a long, terrifying moment, there was no response. Cordelia shifted her weight from one foot to the other, acutely aware of the way her nipples had tightened into rigid points beneath the silk of her blouse. Why did she come dressed here like she had a meeting with the board of directors at work? I’m supposed to be on vacation! Oh well, old habits die hard. Regardless, Cordelia couldn't seem to slow the wild gallop of her heart, nor quell the hum of arousal that vibrated along her nerve endings like a plucked guitar string.
Just as she was about to turn tail and flee, the door swung open, revealing a lanky, square-shouldered man with an easy, welcoming smile. "Well, hello there. A lady visitor, that’s a pleasant surprise. What can I do for you on this fine evening?"
“I … yes.” Cordelia swallowed hard, her mouth suddenly bone dry. “I … I’m here to see Kayleigh. I have an appointment.”
The man's eyebrows raised, a flicker of recognition crossing his face as his smile widened. "Ahh, you must be her six o’clock. I'm Jim, the manager of Happy Ending Ranch. Kayleigh's been expecting you." He held out a hand, and Cordelia took it, feeling the firm, reassuring grip of his coarse fingers. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.
"But before I let you inside, I'll need to see some ID. We’re a law-abiding venue here, and I need to verify that you meet the age requirement.”
“Of course, yes.” With fumbling hands, Cordelia dug her driver's license out of her clutch and handed it over. “I’m forty. It’s been quite some time since anyone has carded me.” Jim studied it for a long moment, his gaze flicking between the small plastic rectangle and her face.
“Yes, but we’re required by law to card everyone, even the eighty-year-old gentleman who was here last night.” Finally, he handed it back, satisfied. "Alright, Cordelia Renfroe from Riverwood, Pennsylvania. That’s near Pittsburgh, isn’t it?” Jim pushed off the doorframe and stepped aside, gesturing for her to enter. "Come on in."
The brothel's interior unfurled in a symphony of shadow and mystery, with dim, moody lighting casting a seductive glow on intricate rugs and worn, heavy drapes. Rich fabrics adorned the space, hinting at decadent secrets, while music from Billie Eilish pulsed from hidden speakers. Guided by Jim, Cordelia navigated her way to the bar, her steps uncertain, and settled onto a stool upholstered in aged vinyl. Jim, with a deft hand, poured a whiskey, its golden hue glinting in the low light, but Cordelia demurred, her emotions a tumultuous storm that alcohol may exacerbate.
"So," Jim said, taking a sip. "What brings you here, if you don't mind me asking?"
Cordelia twisted her hands in her lap. "I … read about this place. Online. About Kayleigh."
Jim chuckled. "Ahh, the website. That thing sure brings in the customers. It’s worth its weight in gold to us." He inclined his head. "I'm guessing this is your first time at an … establishment … like this?"
Cordelia could only nod, cheeks flaming. Jim's eyes crinkled at the corners.
"Thought so. You've got that deer-in-headlights look. Seen it a million times over the decades." Draping his forearms across the bar, his tone mellowed. "It's okay to be nervous, you know. Most people are, their first time."
"I just … I don't normally do things like this. I’m an accountant, for Heaven’s sake!”
"An accountant?" Jim suppressed a chuckle. "Would've taken you for a librarian, maybe. Or a schoolteacher."
Cordelia huffed. "Is it that obvious that I'm boring?"
"I didn't say boring. I implied you’re respectable,” Jim said with a twinkle. "There's a difference.”
Observing her carefully, he considered her anew. "You know, sometimes it's the buttoned-up ones who surprise you most. The ones you'd never expect." His gaze turned sly. "I wouldn’t be surprised if you’re holding a whole other world behind that calm exterior.”
Cordelia looked down, pulse jumping. If you only knew.
"Just an FYI, Kayleigh recently changed her house name. Girls here do that from time to time; they like to switch things up. She goes by Lindsay now. Been that way since she returned from her break Friday night.” Jim drew in a long, measured breath, his chest rising as he gathered his thoughts. “What made you seek her out specifically?" He topped off his drink. "If you don't mind me prying."
"I saw … there were reviews. On your site. People raving about her. Kayleigh … Lindsay." Cordelia felt her cheeks suffuse with red at the memory of those lurid posts. "They made her sound, I don't know, special."
"She is that," Jim said. "Lindsay, she's got a gift. A way of looking at you that makes you feel like you're the only person in the world. Like she can see right into your soul and pluck out your most deep-rooted desires.”
Cordelia grimaced and fiddled with a napkin. That was what she had felt, reading those strangers' words – like Lindsay could give her something she'd never even known she needed. Something profound, transformative.
Something that would change her forever.
"Is she … I mean, will she … want to see me?" Her grip tightening on the handrail, Cordelia squirmed in her seat. "Someone like me?"
Jim's face softened. "Oh, honey. Lindsay isn't in the business of turning people away. Besides, trust me, one look at you, and she’ll be chomping at the bit to get you alone. I’d bet my bottom dollar on it.”
Cordelia's stomach flipped, arousal and anxiety jumbling into a knot. This was really happening. After all the longing, the fantasizing, the reckless leap of faith, she was finally going to meet the woman of her wildest dreams.
And she’s a flippin’ prostitute. …
God, what if this was all a mistake? It had been more than four years since anyone had touched Cordelia in an intimate fashion. I don’t even know what it feels like to be desired anymore … not since Jack left me. What if Lindsay took one look at this boring, heavyset bookworm and sent her packing? What if …
"Hey." Jim's voice cut through her spiraling thoughts. "Breathe, darlin'. I can practically hear the wheels turning in that pretty head of yours. You’re safe here, secure. We don’t judge or condemn in these parts. We’re all about respect, acceptance, and discretion.” He reached out, patting her hand. There was nothing salacious in the touch, just kindness. "It's gonna be alright. Better than, even. You'll see.”
He straightened up, tossing back the last of his drink. "Now, what do you say I go fetch the lady of the hour?"
At Cordelia's mute nod, he winked. "Sit tight. And try not to worry so much. You're in good hands here. Lindsay is the very best at what she does."
With that, he ambled off, disappearing through a velvet curtain. Cordelia stared after him, heart pounding against her ribs like a drum. This was it. No turning back now.
She thought of all the lonely nights, the secret, shameful fantasies. Her newfound addiction for girl-on-girl porn videos. The bone-deep certainty that something was missing from her life, some vital spark. Cordelia recalled Lindsay's pictures on that gaudy, horrible website, that red, red smile promising pleasure beyond imagining.
Cordelia took a deep breath, flexing her shoulders. She was terrified, yes. Completely out of her depth.
But in a rare act of daring, she’d decided to shake out her hair, discard her glasses, and, for once, let impulsiveness guide her.
No matter the cost.
Cordelia sat at the bar, her fingers tapping against the old wood as she waited for Jim to return with Lindsay, but soon became aware of the presence of two men seated at a nearby table. Are they customers, like me? They were talking in low voices, their heads bent close together, but every so often, she could feel the weight of their gazes on her, curious and appraising.
An icy panic started to creep up her extremities and into her chest. Maybe I should go back to the hotel casino in Vegas and just gamble away all this money. She understood how out of place she must look, with her wide eyes and fidgety hands. Like a lamb wandering into a den of wolves. I wonder how many female customers a place like this gets.
One of the men leaned back in his chair, his eyes crawling over her in a way that made Cordelia’s skin prick. This is unbearable. He nudged his companion, a smirk playing at the corners of his mouth as he whispered something she couldn't quite catch. They probably think I’m a lesbian dyke or something.
What was she doing here? What had she been thinking, coming to a place like this alone? A woman driving 175 miles from Las Vegas, through the open desert, to visit a brothel? How could Cordelia have attempted such madness?
Nevertheless, the swirling negativity couldn't erase the captivating enigma of Lindsay, whose essence suggested a journey of self-revelation and awakening that Cordelia was inexplicably drawn to.
A forced swallow rippled across Cordelia’s neck. She knew she should leave, should run back to the safety and comfort of her ordinary life in the Steel City. But something held her in place, some visceral, inherent need to see this through, to experience whatever it was that Lindsay had to offer.
And so she sat there, her heart pounding and her nerves stretched taut, trying to ignore the prickling sensation of foreign eyes on her skin. Cordelia focused on the curtain at the end of the bar, willing it to open, willing Lindsay to appear like so many others before her had, and put an end to this exquisite torture.
But the minutes ticked by, and still, there was no sign of her. Cordelia's unease grew with each passing second, her mind spinning with worst-case scenarios. What if Lindsay had changed her mind? What if she laughed in her face? I wouldn’t waste my time with a woman of your low caliber no matter how much money you offered. What if this was all some cruel, elaborate joke?
Just as she was about to succumb to her fears and flee, the sharp staccato of high heels pierced through her panicked thoughts. Cordelia's head jerked up, her eyes widening as they fell upon the figure framed in the doorway. There, like a vision conjured from her most forbidden daydreams, stood Lindsay, resplendent in a clinging sheath of crimson silk and black lace that left little to the imagination.
Cordelia's breath seized in her lungs, her heart stumbling over its own rhythm as she drank in the sight before her. Lindsay was a revelation, her beauty even more striking in person than in the photographs that had haunted Cordelia's dreams. The minidress clung to her every curve, highlighting her figure, while her presence itself radiated a magnetic confidence that seemed to command the very air around her. I wish I could be that hot.
“Well, good evening.” Lindsay glided across the room, her hips swaying with each step, until she came to a stop in front of Cordelia. Up close, those friendly eyes and soft lips rendered Cordelia speechless. "You must be the lovely Cordelia. I’ve been looking forward to meeting you since you scheduled our appointment over a week ago.”
Cordelia swallowed hard, her mouth suddenly dry. "H-hi," she stammered, cursing herself for the tremor in her voice. "Yes, I'm Cordelia. It's nice to meet you, Kayleigh. Or … it’s Lindsay now, isn’t it?"
Lindsay's lips curved in a smile that was equal parts friendly and seductive. “The pleasure is all mine. And you can call me whatever you like.” She slid onto the adjacent barstool. "So, tell me, Cordelia. What brings a beautiful girl like you to a seedy place like this?"
“Beautiful?” Cordelia choked on the singular word, but she forced herself to meet Lindsay's gaze. "I've heard stories about you.” She spoke in a whisper, not wanting the other patrons to overhear. "About the things you can do, the way you can make people feel. And I guess I just … I wanted to experience that for myself."
Lindsay's smile broadened, her eyes dancing with amusement. "Is that so?" Cordelia could smell her perfume, a mix of raspberry and vanilla that made her mind sputter. "And what kind of stories have you heard, exactly?"
"I've heard that you're not like the other women in this industry." Cordelia’s voice grew stronger with each word. "You’re sincere, real. That you have a way of getting inside people's heads, of making them crave things they never knew they wanted."
Lindsay chuckled. "Well, I don't know about all that. But I do pride myself on being a very good listener. Why don't you tell me a little bit about yourself, honey? What’s your story?”
Cordelia blinked, surprised by the turn in conversation. She expected Lindsay to be all business, to cut straight to the chase. Yet, Lindsay's authentic curiosity caught her off guard, aligning with the commendations Cordelia had read online. So I guess it is true what everyone said about how you get treated here. "Well, there’s not much to tell. I’m an accountant from Pittsburgh. It’s … pretty ordinary."
"Pittsburgh, huh? That's quite a distance from here. And I bet there's nothing ordinary about you." With a coy smile, Lindsay twirled a thick blonde curl around her index finger, letting it bounce back into place. "What made you decide to come all this way?"
"It’s a long story," Cordelia began, her voice softening as she warmed to the conversation. "I guess I’ve been feeling … stuck, in a way. I needed something different, something exciting."
"Oh, I understand that. I really do, trust me. Life can get mundane. We all crave a bit of excitement every now and then.” Casually, Lindsay tossed a peanut into her mouth, crunching thoughtfully. “And what about your family? What would they say about this naughty little escapade?”
"They don’t know. I don’t really have anyone close. My parents passed away years ago, and it’s just been me.” Her eyes fluttered shut as memories surfaced like ghosts. “Alone. For so long.”
"Oh, I'm so sorry; I had no idea," Lindsay said, squeezing her wrist. "That loneliness must be so difficult to bear."
"It is," Cordelia admitted. "But it’s also comfortable in a way. Predictable."
"Comfort and predictability are safe, but sometimes stepping out of that safety can lead to incredible things," Lindsay said, her eyes locking with Cordelia, conveying conviction. "I’m glad you took that step. It takes courage."
"Thank you. I … I don’t usually open up like this."
"That’s what I’m here for." She again reached over to squeeze Cordelia’s hand, only harder this time. "To listen, to understand, and to make your experience here unforgettable."
“I … I like the sound of that.”
“You know …” Lindsay raised a cold one to her lips, her movements deliberate and unapologetic. As she tilted the mug, the frothy head of the beer brushed against her upper lip, leaving a trace of foam she seemed oblivious to. “… there's something incredibly enticing about a woman who doesn’t see her own allure."
Cordelia’s eyebrows twitched up and down, her face contorted. "I don't know what you mean.”
"Oh, but I think you do." The alcohol made its way down Lindsay's throat, the sound nearly audible against the parlor's noisy backdrop. After indulging in a substantial gulp, the visible bob of her throat preceded a slow, intentional touch to Cordelia's face, provoking a slight shiver. "You walk in, all shy and unassuming, not realizing that your very innocence casts a spell, draws people in. I mean, take those two men behind me.” She nodded subtly backward. “They’ve been eye-fucking you this entire time. Not me.”
Cordelia’s heart thudded in her chest. "That’s ridiculous. I’m just a dull, uptight nobody." Certainly, no one who gets … eye-fucked by others!
"Ahh, but Cordelia," Lindsay's voice was soft, yet laced with an undeniable power, "that’s what makes you so fascinating. You're this enigma, wrapped in modesty, yet there’s this undercurrent of passion, of fire, just waiting to be unleashed." Her hands rested on Cordelia’s wrists, gentle yet commanding. "I find that ... irresistible.”
Cordelia caught her breath as Lindsay leaned in, her lips hovering just an inch from her own. "Just being you, here with me, is more seductive than you can imagine."
Cordelia's rational mind screamed for her to retreat, to regain the professional distance that was a staple in her orderly world. Yet the proximity of Lindsay, the hypnotic scent of her perfume, and the soft warmth of her breath against her skin tethered her to the stool, rendering her incapable of thought or movement. "I don't ... I've never ..." She couldn’t even find any coherent words.
Lindsay smiled, her eyes glinting with a mix of amusement and promise. "You’ve never had sex with another woman before. Haven’t you, honey? Oh, it’s okay. It’s okay.” Lindsay’s hand slid up, fingers tangling softly in Cordelia's hair, pulling her ever so closer. “There’s a first time for everything, and I promise, I'll be proper with you. I love to teach, and it’ll be the best sex you’ve ever had."
Cordelia's pulse raced, her skin tingling where Lindsay touched her. "But what if I don't … what if I'm not good at this? What if I disappoint you?” Her fears, her insecurities spilled out, betraying the control she so wished to exert.
“Oh, honey.” Lindsay’s chuckle was warm, her eyes sparkling with genuine affection. "You could never disappoint me. The only thing that matters is that you’re true to yourself and your desires. Everything else will fall into place naturally. There's no right or wrong here. No good or bad. It's all about feeling, experiencing. And trust me, you’re exactly my type – genuine, untouched by this world’s games. It’s refreshing ... and incredibly sexy."
The word 'sexy' reverberated in Cordelia’s mind, a stark contrast to how she viewed herself. The thought that this goddess before her could find her attractive, could desire her, was both bewildering and exhilarating.
As Lindsay’s hand caressed her cheek, sliding down to trace the line of her collarbone, Cordelia found herself leaning into the touch, her body betraying the conservative constraints she had always imposed upon it. "I want to explore this ... with you."
Lindsay’s expression turned tender, yet there was also a predatory gleam that thrilled Cordelia to her core. "Then let's explore together." Lindsay’s lips brushed against Cordelia’s cheek, sealing the pact between them with a peck that was both a benediction and a dare. “Hold my hand tonight. I’ll guide you. I’ll take you to places you’ve never been before.”
"Oh my God," Cordelia sighed, looking into Lindsay's eyes. "I want something that’ll shake up my world."
"And thus, you found your way here," Lindsay said, her gaze holding Cordelia’s. "To me."
"To you," Cordelia echoed, feeling as though every path she’d taken had led her to this moment, to this revelation.
Lindsay idled back on the stool, studying Cordelia with a thoughtful expression. "You know, most people come here seeking escape, a break from their reality. But I get the feeling you're searching for something more than shaking up your world … something deeper."
Clarity cut through the fog in Cordelia’s mind. "Maybe I am. I think I've been living in black and white, and suddenly, I'm seeing color."
Lindsay’s eyes danced at that. "Color can be quite intoxicating, especially after a lifetime of monochrome. Trust me, I speak from tons of experience there too. It’s not just about seeing it, though. It’s about feeling it, letting it wash over you, change you."
The idea of change, once so daunting to Cordelia, now felt like an inevitable, necessary progression, guided by Lindsay's understanding hand. "I want that. I want to feel everything, to understand what I’ve been missing."
"That’s the spirit. Feeling everything isn’t just about the highs, the ecstasy. It’s also about confronting fears, facing the unknown, and finding joy in the discovery."
Cordelia pondered Lindsay's words, sensing the truth in them. She had stepped into this world, Lindsay’s world, driven by a compulsion she barely understood, but now, guided by a prostitute’s wisdom, she felt a burgeoning desire to embrace the complexity of her own emotions, to explore the depths of her desires.
"Thank you. For seeing me, for understanding what I couldn’t even articulate."
Lindsay smiled, a genuine, heartfelt smile. "It’s not often I meet someone like you, Cordelia. You’re not just here for the experience; you’re here for the transformation. That makes you special. Very, very special.”
As the hours slipped by, unnoticed by both women, Cordelia found herself sharing stories of her past, her hopes for the future, and the myriad of ways in which her life felt incomplete, unfulfilled. Lindsay listened intently, her responses thoughtful and probing, encouraging Cordelia to delve deeper into her own psyche.
"It's like you've been sleepwalking through life," Lindsay observed. “But now, you're waking up. And that's a beautiful thing to witness."
Cordelia nodded, her eyes glistening with moisture. "I feel like I'm standing on the edge of a cliff. It's terrifying and galvanizing all at once."
Lindsay reached across the bar, her hand encompassing Cordelia's in a warm clasp. "That's the thrill of discovery, my dear. The precipice is where life truly begins."
Their conversation turned to the idea of boundaries and the liberation found in their transgression. Lindsay spoke of the many clients she had guided through similar journeys of self-discovery, each with their own barriers to overcome.
"You see, Cordelia, everyone comes here with a story. Some are looking to rewrite theirs, while others want to tear the pages out and start fresh. What matters is the courage to turn the page, to dare to write a new chapter."
"I want to turn the page. I want to live in full color, not just shades of gray."
Lindsay's smile was radiant. "Then let's begin your new chapter, right here, right now."
With those words, Lindsay stood, extending her hand to Cordelia. Hesitant yet filled with an unfamiliar resolve, Cordelia took it, allowing Lindsay to lead her away from the bar, past the forgotten glances of the other patrons, and through a set of heavy, velvet drapes into the unknown.
Beyond those curtains lay a world that was at once alien and familiar to Cordelia. The bedroom they entered was a sanctuary of sorts, bathed in soft, warm light, with plush furnishings and walls adorned with tasteful art. The air was scented with a blend of incense and something floral, creating an ambiance that was both exotic and comforting.
As Lindsay guided her to the king-sized bed, Cordelia's heart raced, not with fear, but with anticipation. She realized she was no longer the woman who had stood trembling on the porch of Happy Ending Ranch. She was someone new, someone braver, someone open to the possibilities that were before her.
Lindsay sat beside her, close enough for their thighs to touch, yet the space between them was charged with a palpable energy. Cordelia turned to face her, their eyes locking in a wordless conversation overflowing with desire.
"You're so ready, aren't you?" Lindsay whispered, her breath hot against Cordelia's cheek. “I can tell.”
"Yes," Cordelia replied, her voice steady and sure. "I'm ready to feel, to explore, to live."
"Have you ever kissed a girl before?"
Cordelia lifted a hand, palm out. "Of course not. I’m not … no." A beat later, she blinked and attempted to focus. "What are you doing? Are you looking at my –"
Like a lifeline, Lindsay leaned in and claimed Cordelia's mouth, seeking that fleeting connection. But once their lips met, instinct took over, the promise of pleasure too tempting to resist. Female clients were a rarity, and Lindsay was determined to make this encounter unforgettable.
She nodded, a silent consent, and Lindsay's tongue delved past her parted lips. Cordelia melted into the exchange, marveling at her ability to remain cognizant. Their bodies blended together as Adele's soulful song drifted through the sound system.
Breathless, Lindsay pulled back, blinking as reality reasserted itself.
"I'm going to rock your world, sweet girl," she vowed, deepening the kiss, her hand cupping the back of Cordelia's neck. “Rock it like it’s never been rocked before.”
Cordelia stared at her, eyes wide. She touched her fingertips to her lips, head shaking in disbelief. "Where did that come from?"
A sly grin tugged at the corners of Lindsay's mouth. She brought a finger to her lips, wetting it with her tongue. "Congratulations, sweetness. Looks like you just joined the club. The I Kissed a Girl and I Liked It club.”
*
Jim grumbled as he poured another finger of whiskey, the bottle clinking against the glass with more force than necessary. The bar was quiet, all but one of the patrons having now retired to a bedroom with their respective lady, leaving him with his thoughts and the woman nestled on the stool across the counter. Kenzie watched him with cautious eyes, twisting the delicate silver engagement band that encircled her right ring finger.
"I just don't get it," Jim muttered, his gaze fixed on the liquid swirling in his tumbler. "Thirty-eight years, Cierra. Thirty-eight goddamned years I've given to this place, to Colt and his old man before him. And for what?"
He snatched up the glass and threw back the whiskey in one defiant gulp, forcing down the acrid liquid with punishing determination. "To be passed over for some twenty-one-year-old jailbait cunt who’s spent more time on her knees than on her feet?”
Kenzie flinched at the harsh bite of his words, the casual cruelty with which he dismissed Lindsay's occupation. As a working girl herself, she knew all too well the sting of such blatant disregard. But she tapered down her knee-jerk defensiveness, instead laying a soothing hand on Jim's forearm. "I understand your frustration. But this isn't just about experience or loyalty. Colt and Pamela, they're looking to the future. Lindsay's smart, Jim. She's got a head for business, for numbers. Maybe they think she can bring in a new type of clientele, expand the brand. …”
"The brand?" Jim's voice rose, echoing off the walls. "This isn't some Silicon Valley startup, Cierra. It's a fucking whorehouse. And the only thing that matters here is knowing how to keep the girls in line and the customers happy. That's what I do. That's what I've always done.”
“Lindsay is young. She’s got time to learn, to grow into the role. And with your guidance, your experience, maybe –“
"Maybe what?" Jim snatched his arm away, his lips curling into a sneer. "Maybe I can play second fiddle to a raging alcoholic who's barely old enough to drink? Maybe I can smile and nod and pretend like I'm not being fucked over six ways to Sunday? Is that what you're suggesting?"
Kenzie sighed, her shoulders slumping. "No, of course not. I'm just saying that maybe there's a way to make this work. A way for you to still have a say, to be a part of the transition. Colt insists you have a stake in ownership. He wants you to have a bigger role.”
Jim's eyes narrowed, a calculated gleam sharpening his gaze. "Oh, I'll be a part of it, alright. Just not in the way Colt and Pamela expect." He leaned forward, his voice dropping. "Lindsay thinks she's got this in the bag, thinks she can just waltz in and take what's mine. But she's got no fucking clue who she's dealing with."
Kenzie stiffened, her breath catching in her throat. "What are you saying, Jim? You're not thinking of –"
"I'm thinking," he cut her off, "that maybe it's time for someone to knock Lindsay off her high horse. Show her that running a brothel takes more than a pretty face and a tight pussy."
He leaned back, a sinister smile unfolding. "I've got connections, Cierra. You know I do. People who owe me favors. It wouldn't take much to make life hella difficult for our new boss. A few well-placed rumors, a couple of dissatisfied clients, maybe a health inspector with a chip on his shoulder. …"
Kenzie shook her head. "Jim, no. You can't. If Colt and Pamela found out. …"
"They won't," he promised, his tone brooking no negotiation. "Not if we're smart about it. Not if we're careful. Mark my words, Lindsay's gonna crash and burn one way or another. I'm just gonna make sure I'm there to fan the flames when she does. When I’m done with her, she’ll be lucky to get a job scrubbing toilets at the airport.”
*
“Jim seems like such a sweet, sweet man, and I enjoyed talking and getting to know Kenzie a bit too.” Having just returned to Lindsay’s bedroom from the booking office, Cordelia closed the door behind them.
Yet, just like that, Lindsay pinned Cordelia against the door, allowing her a moment to refuse. The atmosphere was charged with a palpable tension and rising temperatures. Lindsay moistened her lower lip with her tongue, her eyes fixed on Cordelia’s mouth. The sound of quickened breaths filled the space, and the expensive material of Cordelia’s blouse brushed against Lindsay’s fingers. She angled her head and sealed the deal.
The clock was already ticking. And in that instant, nothing else held significance, just the two of them. Cordelia was struck by the flawless harmony with Lindsay. Their lips engaged in a dance of exploration and desire, swathing Cordelia completely. She felt herself freefalling out of reality, floating close to subspace. The wait for this moment was justified. This kiss, unlike their previous one, was both gentle and demanding.
Desperate for greater intimacy, Cordelia drew nearer, regretting her choice of the constricting blouse. The layers seemed too much. They shared one prolonged kiss followed by another, then a brief one, and yet another lengthy one. Indeed, this woman had expertise. Cordelia attempted to decelerate their tempo to maintain her composure. When she withdrew to gauge the situation, Lindsay gently repositioned her hand at the back of Cordelia’s head, drawing her back into the embrace for further indulgence.
“The part of you I find most captivating, sweet Cordelia, is your mouth. It reveals so much. You often bite your cheek when mulling over something, and your lips twitch just a bit when you're upset by spoken words. However, when you smile genuinely, it's noteworthy, because those are reserved for the few people you truly value.”
Cordelia drew her head back, surprised by Lindsay's observation of such nuanced aspects of her demeanor. She stole another kiss. “What’s my mouth saying right now?”
“That it wants me to do this.” Lindsay unbuttoned Cordelia’s trousers and smiled. “And this.” The zipper went down. “This too.” The material was tugged to the floor, and Cordelia nearly stumbled as she stepped out of it and kicked her flats away as well. “And especially this.” Lindsay cupped her through her underwear, and their mouths came together in a fierce clash. Surrounded by a swirl of pink and orange neon lights, as well as candlelight, they lost themselves in the moment, the bed across the threshold notorious for its tales of passion their final destination. What life was this?
“Is this okay?” Lindsay whispered in her ear. The swipe of her tongue sent a shiver.
“God, yes. Take me like I asked you to. Do it here. Do it now. Ravage me.”
Lowering herself to one knee, Lindsay shifted the square piece of cloth and sealed her mouth over Cordelia’s pussy. Cordelia made a guttural noise, swearing loudly, while holding onto Lindsay’s shoulder and the doorframe for support. At first, Lindsay’s tongue wandered lightly, then shifted to a more resolute exploration. Was this Heaven? Cordelia’s hips moved in search of the ultimate cadence.
Her skin was aflame, her mind clouded, as her physical senses took precedence, leading to a state of complete abandonment of caution, rationale, and fear. If Cordelia’s life had indeed been a maze and she lost herself somewhere along the way, Lindsay had found her and brought her to this very unexpected moment.
Had she really considered fleeing before?
“I can’t get over this. Your pussy tastes so good!”
Lindsay's words were a testament to Cordelia's exquisite taste, filled with a reverence that transcended mere compliments. Though they may have been slightly exaggerated, they held a profound significance as they became Cordelia's to keep and treasure.
As their connection deepened, Cordelia found herself captivated by the picture before her – a picture of Lindsay, fully immersed in professional cunnilingus. Her blonde hair framed her face and shoulders as she focused on elevating Cordelia to new plateaus.
Despite still wearing her minidress, Lindsay's determination was undeniably alluring, perhaps the sexiest thing Cordelia had ever witnessed. The craving for Lindsay bloomed in Cordelia's stomach, spreading through her center as they churned together in perfect unison. With a subtle movement, Cordelia urged for more, a plea that Lindsay answered by intensifying her efforts with precision skill.
Lindsay's focus shifted to that pivotal spot, a touch that promised to catapult Cordelia into the stratosphere. With a circling motion, her thumb applied just the right amount of pressure, building tension to an almost unbearable peak. Then, like fireworks igniting, Cordelia exploded into the night, feeling Lindsay's presence clinging to her, their breaths heaving, and the intimate sensation of her ministrations sending cosmic sparks of light through her.
However, it was the aftermath, the lingering aftershocks, that truly mesmerized Cordelia. Each tremor provided evidence to Lindsay's mastery, leaving Cordelia awestruck and engulfed in the sensations that reverberated through her body. This prostitute, young enough to be her daughter, had orchestrated their encounter like a virtuoso playing a delicate instrument, leaving Cordelia captivated.
“You’re really cute when you’re hazy.”
Cordelia was aware of the buttons on her blouse being worked. “What are you doing? Wait, there’s more?”
“There’s always more, honey.”
“There is?” A new concept. “I don’t think I’ve ever …”
“Then you’ve never been truly awakened.” Beautiful Lindsay winked at her. “We’ll fix that tonight.”
Cordelia's blouse parted, unveiling her light beige bra adorned with delicate lace designs, a cherished piece from a boutique with an LGBT mission and an online store. She felt a sense of validation for choosing it as Lindsay's fingers slid down the straps, one at a time.
"May I?" Lindsay's whisper was almost submissive. Cordelia nodded, impressed by Lindsay's deft one-handed unclasping of the bra. As it slipped from Cordelia's arms, Lindsay's gaze traveled from her face to her exposed breasts. "Exquisite. Truly exquisite.”
The pulse of Lindsay’s gaze was every bit as potent as her touch. She traced the rounded outside of Cordelia’s breast and, as if she couldn’t resist, wrapped both arms around her waist, dipped her head, and pulled a nipple into her mouth. Lindsay wasn’t shy, licking and sucking, bringing Cordelia’s body roaring back to life.
“I think I love you topless,” Lindsay said, angling her mouth to Cordelia’s other breast. “No. I know I do.”
“You feel so different than anyone I’ve ever been with,” she said, eyes clenched, fingers in Lindsay’s hair. They were rocking together again, and Lindsay seemed hellbent. Who was Cordelia to argue with a woman on a mission? Lindsay again dropped, this time to both knees, and delivered a fervent kiss to the apex of Cordelia’s thighs. Immediately, she cried out, reached for her clitoris, and rubbed until she contracted in pleasure. This orgasm was much more unrestrained – and louder – than the prior one.
Lindsay's eyes remained closed, but a smug smile crept across her face, basking in the triumph of disassembling Cordelia's righteous facade. This sensation of dominance was new and intoxicating.
“I enjoyed every damn second of that.”
Lindsay glanced up, smiling. “I love it when you swear. You do it so well.”
“I’ll fucking do it some more!”
Cordelia lifted Lindsay up and captured her lips, her own needs flaring with the intent to reverse their roles. She yearned to witness the flames of lust in Lindsay’s deep blue eyes, to touch her, and to elicit the same intense pleasures she had just experienced. The thought of having Lindsay naked and undone beneath her touch was thrilling.
Soon, Cordelia beckoned from the edge of the king-sized bed, adorned with a plush, pink quilt. "Come here," she coaxed, her tone a command. With a gentle pull on Lindsay’s arm, she drew her into the warmth of her lap, a sigh of contentment escaping her lips. The sensation was exquisite, a perfect fit she could bask in forever.
She slid her hand beneath the hem of Lindsay’s minidress, her movements deliberate, savoring the escalation of their bond. Their kisses started soft, fleeting, then deepened, each one more invigorating than the last, as Lindsay’s tongue danced with hers in a cadence that shifted from languid to urgent.
Gradually, the fabric of Lindsay’s dress gave way, leaving her in just her bra and panties. Cordelia paused to marvel at the vision, overwhelmed by her fortune. $1,800 for three hours? What a bargain. Eagerly, she climbed over Lindsay, her anticipation heightening at the thought of unveiling her completely. The shift of her weight elicited a pleased murmur from Lindsay, who responded by drawing Cordelia closer, hands pressing against her.
"Allow me," Cordelia whispered as she got on her hands and knees. With a playful yet seductive grin, she caught the edge of Lindsay's panties between her teeth, tugging them down. Mesmerized, Lindsay lifted her hips to offer aid.
Cordelia then turned her attention to Lindsay’s legs, which she had admired via the online photographs for weeks. She planted soft kisses along them, trailing up to the inner thighs. There, she paused, exhaling a gentle breath across immaculate skin and the intimate secrets it guarded, drawing a shiver of pleasure.
Lindsay, with a sense of purpose, sat up and released her bra, unveiling the breasts Cordelia had fantasized about for so long. Cordelia paused, overwhelmed by the reality before her. The scene felt like a surreal dream, one she was determined to savor fully.
Returning to the task at hand, Cordelia's eyes communicated her intentions before she coaxed Lindsay back down, following her. She cherished the feel of Lindsay’s neck against her lips, kissing it deeply, the sweet scent shrouding her senses. “I love the way you smell,” Cordelia murmured, her voice heavy.
She then allowed her hand to drift across Lindsay’s body, tracing a path from her shoulder, across her arm and stomach, and around her breast, savoring each supple slope. Her exploration promised thoroughness in its tactile journey. Grasping Lindsay’s breast, Cordelia teased a nipple, causing a sharp tilt of Lindsay’s head in response. As she sucked the nipple into her mouth, her ardor morphed into an intense craving. Lindsay’s quickening breaths spurred Cordelia on.
Cordelia was mesmerized, too, as Lindsay transitioned from being beneath her to straddling her hips. She willingly gave up control, captivated by the visual. Slowly, Lindsay reached behind her head and did something with her hair. It fell across her shoulders, flashing like deep burning embers in the candlelight.
In the intimate space between them, Cordelia caressed her, entrenched by the delicate dance of expressions playing across Lindsay's face. The subtle rocking of Lindsay's hips against her abdomen kindled unspoken words between them, punctuated by soft, indistinct murmurs.
When Lindsay closed her eyes, Cordelia felt a pang of loss, as if a precious connection had slipped away. "No. Look at me. Please," she implored, needing to see those baby blues again. Lindsay complied, and their gazes locked, the world around them fading away. Their lips met in a fusion of passion, Cordelia's heart racing.
Lindsay's kisses trailed down her neck, a tantalizing diversion, but Cordelia was ready to take the lead. Every touch and glance intensified the moment. Cordelia reversed their positions, her actions becoming more rushed, exploring Lindsay with a newfound boldness. She parted Lindsay’s legs and licked her at her pussy. Once. Twice. And again. Lindsay clawed at the bedding beneath her.
With each taste, Lindsay's reactions ramped up, her grip on the quilt tightening. Cordelia, emboldened by every nuance of Lindsay's pleasure, pushed them both towards a climactic ascent. Lindsay's response was uninhibited, her body arching in a crescendo of bliss.
Holding Lindsay close, Cordelia savored the throes of passion. Lindsay's hair cascaded back like a shimmering deluge, serenity etched across her face, marking the culmination of their shared foray into uncharted territories of profound intimacy.
In the silence of the bedroom, Cordelia moved closer, intertwining their hands, her mind replaying the depth of their encounter. With a nervous smile, she made a confession, her voice tinged with embarrassment. "I'm shaking. I'm not sure why. I'm sorry."
Lindsay's grip tightened. "Don't be. I think we’re both a little … surprised."
"I hoped we'd click. I prayed for it," Cordelia started, hesitating before continuing. "What happened between us, it was more intense than I expected, and I'm still processing it." She turned to face Lindsay, driven by a need to share her deeper feelings. "I find myself wanting quiet, ordinary moments with you. Is that odd?"
Lindsay also turned, their closeness creating a safe, intimate cocoon. "Tell me about them.”
Cordelia grazed her knuckles along Lindsay’s cheek. "Remember how we talked for hours before the party? I opened up to you more than I ever have with anyone before. Now, after this, I imagine doing everyday things together with you, like dining out or taking walks. Going to the grocery store. But it's the little things too."
"Like what, sweetie?"
"Sharing the newspaper over breakfast. I wonder what being your go-to person to call on the phone would be like, for the good days and the bad, or just to relax and watch TV."
Lindsay giggled. "We'd probably bicker about which show to watch, and who gets the remote."
"And I’d end up wrestling you for it until we found something we both wanted to see."
"I'd give your favorite show a chance if you gave mine one too," Lindsay offered, smiling.
To Cordelia, this exchange sounded like a dream, sparking a fear of getting her hopes up. "We’re very different people," she admitted, a shadow falling over her newfound joy. “Like night and day.”
Lindsay sensed the underlying melancholy in Cordelia's voice and chose her words carefully to lift the mood. "Even the night and day, though different, create beautiful moments like sunrise and sunset when they meet. We have this night to create our own beautiful moment, no matter how different we are. I enjoy being with you, Cordelia. I love being with you. I don’t want our three hours to end.”
Absorbing Lindsay's words, Cordelia felt a gentle reassurance. Lindsay, keen to keep the positive momentum, leaned in closer, her voice soft and persuasive. "Let's not dwell on the differences or what the future holds, okay? Tonight, let's just be two souls enjoying the rare connection we've found in each other."
Lindsay's comforting words sparked a shift in Cordelia's perspective. She began to see their time together not as a fleeting encounter but as a cherished memory in the making.
Noticing the change in Cordelia's demeanor, Lindsay smiled. "Let’s make this night about us, beautiful girl. You and me. A night where every touch, every kiss, and every laugh we share is a treasure we’ll keep forever."
Persuaded by Lindsay’s optimism, Cordelia felt a renewed sense of closeness. She responded with a smile, leaning into Lindsay’s embrace, ready to savor all the precious moments they had left together. "You're right, Lindsay. Let's make this one night something we'll always remember, something beautiful and uniquely ours."
<> <> <> <> <>
Several hours later, Lindsay and Cordelia stood at the parlor’s exit, their hands lingering in a final, tender touch. Lindsay gazed into Cordelia's eyes. "Thank you, sweet girl, for this unforgettable night. Take this experience with you, let it be a beacon in your journey, and remember, you're capable of extraordinary things."
Cordelia, her eyes misty with unshed tears, nodded, her voice a murmur. "I will. Tonight changed me in ways I can't even begin to express. Thank you. Thank you so much.”
“I want e-mail updates. Promise me you’ll stay in regular touch with me through e-mail.”
“I will, Lindsay. Trust me, I will.”
With a long, heartfelt embrace, they parted. Cordelia stepped into the overnight shroud, a sense of empowerment swirling around her as she practically skipped to her rental car. Lindsay watched her go, accomplishment mingling with the inevitable pang of goodbye.
Turning to lock the door, Lindsay sighed, pivoting on her heel, and trudging over to the bar where Jim was still holding court. “Hey, I need the next two hours off to decompress." Wiping a tear of her own, Lindsay’s voice carried a mix of fatigue and contentment. “Want to take a bath and enjoy a glass of champagne.”
Drying silverware, Jim glanced up, a smile tugging at his lips. "That's fine. You're the boss, aren’t you?" His tone hid all the negative emotions beneath. "Take all the time you need. You do what you want.”
“Thank you, Jimbo. You’re a doll!”
As Lindsay plodded away, Jim's smile faded, replaced by a dark scowl. Little cunt-slut fucked her way into Colt and Pamela’s good graces, but then left them high and dry. Why are they rewarding her? He stared at the curtain, hands clenching the bar’s handrail, his body trembling with mounting rage. That ownership role should be mine. …
