The Client On The Sixth Floor, Part II
Mattie and Simon meet again...
You needn't read, (or even listen to...) 'The Client on the Sixth Floor' to get this one, but it is a good start.
"Oh god, baby!! Don't stop! That's it, my big, big boy, Ooooooh!" Mattie gasped with as much enthusiasm as she could muster.
She thrust her pelvis up as her punter's small, thin cock pistoned in and out of her tight, wet slit. Thankfully she'd remembered her lube and had applied copious amounts when she'd nipped to the bathroom before they'd got started. She'd been finding it so difficult to get turned on these days. She wondered if she might be losing her touch.
His face was close to hers, a bead of sweat hanging precariously from his nose, threatening to drip. God, she hated it when that happened. Of course, she had drank worse. She almost giggled at the thought and then suddenly remembered to moan loudly, with faux enthusiasm, as he continued to pummel her. She knew he liked that, her moaning, as he'd told her about his silent, unsatisfying sexual relations with his wife, or 'Ice Queen', as he'd referred to her. "Ouch, darling... Are you nearly finished? I can't take much more, Big Boy!" Was her usual refrain.
Mattie had always been such a good damned hooker. Without even being smug about it, she always got requests from her regulars. She knew that it pissed off some of the other girls she worked with, the way that she always had the guys coming back for more. Sometimes, if a punter's usual girl wasn't available, Olivia, her 'madam', would send them Mattie's way… Invariably, they'd stay with her after that, too.
She couldn't help it if she was good.
If they couldn't remember her name, they'd just ask for the pretty redhead with the tattooed back. Of course, she always had to go the extra mile at birthdays and Christmas to keep her colleagues sweet. Some perfume here, a little sachet of powder there... She was a smart, kind woman. But especially smart.
Despite the fact that she was, let's face it, a little older than most of the other girls, she kept herself in good shape. She chose her outfits carefully, always going for classy over tarty, unless they asked for that… Her appearance was always impeccable and she got looks whether she was dressed for work or the gym.
'Bob', his real name was Malcom, she'd checked his wallet once, carried on pumping her for all he was worth. Bless him, he was certainly a trier and although she'd done her best to gently coach him, he hadn't really improved greatly in the couple of years he'd been employing her services. No wonder his wife seemed bored. Recently he'd been showing an interest in her bottom. He'd told her that there was no way his wife would ever let him anywhere near her precious little arse and wondered if he might try something with her sometime soon.
"Well, yes," she'd said, thinking about the extra money...
As she 'oooohed' and 'aaaahed' in time with her client's thrusting, she noticed her work mobile lighting up and silently beginning to vibrate on the bedside table. "Fucking Olivia! The bitch knows I'm working!"
The 'phone stopped but then immediately started again! She looked up at 'Bob', eyes closed and pumping vigorously. God, it felt like a Q-Tip in her minge... and contemplated reaching for the mobile but decided she shouldn't. "He is paying, after all..."
Then the landline trilled. She let the answerphone take it.
"Hello, Fuckbat, it's Olivia... Listen, a guy called Simon, a hand job from three weeks ago? Well, apparently you impressed, Love. He wants you tonight, a 'girlfriend experience', it's a work do so wear knickers... Call me back..."
Mattie by now was more than a little bored with Bob's monotonous performance and eager to speak to Olivia. So she decided to speed things up. She leaned round a little, extending her digits so that she could touch Bob's hairy swinging balls. He gasped, as her fingers met his sweaty wrinkled skin and unbelievably he sped up. She grinned to herself as mental images of him spontaneously combusting from the sheer friction popped unbidden into her head. God, she really shouldn't laugh, but come on!
"Oh, you little cunt," he moaned, "Oh you dirty little fucking..."
She touched her fingers against his shaft as he thrust in and out, again he gasped and as he did, she gathered up some of the lube from her pussy and deftly pushed her finger deeply into Bob's bottom, sweeping her fingertip onto his p-spot. Immediately his body stiffened as he came hard and fast, shaking and moaning.
"Oh my god! That was fucking AMAZING! You DIRTY fucking bitch," he shuddered as he began to soften inside her.
"Glad you enjoyed it, Lover... I thought you'd like that," winked Mattie.
See? Just because she wasn't enjoying her job so much these days didn't mean that the guys would notice a difference.
Bob lifted his sweaty body up, his skin stuck to hers a little, from the copious amounts of moisture he'd produced during his exertions. Mattie smiled at him, despite the fact that she actually wanted nothing more than to change her bedsheets and take a long hot shower.
"Same time next month?" He asked, as he pulled up his trousers and fastened his belt.
"Of course, Sweetie," she simpered. "Be a dear, just call and arrange it with Olivia, okay?"
"Yes, yes, I will," he exclaimed, like an eager puppy. "Oh, I put a little something extra in your envelope. I remember last time, you said you had a birthday coming up…"
"Aaw, he's blushing! Damn, he really is a sweetie," thought Mattie, feeling only slightly guilty for hurrying him on with the old 'key in the back door' trick…
"Oh Bob!! You're too kind! You shouldn't have!!" She kissed him on the cheek and straightened his tie, as she passed him his jacket with her other hand.
"Ummmm... You know dear, well... I don't really think you're a dirty bitch... I just like saying that... My wife would kill me if I said anything like that to her," he mumbled.
"I KNOW, you fantastic fuck you," she grinned, punching him gently on the shoulder, "I like it when you call me your bitch..."
"In the name of Sweet Jesus," she thought....
Opening the door, she practically shooed him through it, "Thank you, Bob, that was nice, look forward to seeing you next month." She blew him a kiss as she closed the door behind him.
As soon as it clicked, she leaned against it and sighed. Geez, her mind just wasn't on the job these days. She really had to pull herself together before her performance started to suffer. Even Olivia had noticed it. "Darling," she'd mewled, sounding like a Vauxhall drag-queen, "Whatever IS the matter with you these days? You're not pregnant are you? Because I have punters who'd pay a little extra, if you know what I mean…"
"God no!!" Mattie had almost spat out her gin and tonic. "No fucking way!! I don't need any complications in my life right now. Olivia, you KNOW I've got a coil fitted, there's NO way!"
Olivia had merely smiled sagely, "Mattie, darling, I've been around the block you know, there are no certainties in 'The Life', sometimes things just happen, no matter how careful you are."
Mattie screwed up her eyes and thought for a moment… No, she'd had her monthly 'visit', there was no way she was pregnant. Still, something was definitely up. Typical that Olivia should point it out though, she didn't really need her 'boss' on her case. She had plans. It was her birthday tomorrow and she wanted to do something special. The girls, that is, the other girls who were part of Olivia's 'team', wanted to take her out for a meal and then on to a club and Mattie was thinking that this was her best option so far. She still wasn't really talking to her older sister. "Bloody prim bitch with her 'perfect' life," thought Mattie, as she peeled the now slightly damp cover from her duvet and dropped it into a neat pile along with the soiled pillowcases and soiled bottom sheet.
Her best friend, Stella, was on a business trip and wasn't due back until the following week, and they had plans for when she got back. A health spa mini break; Mattie could not wait. She hardly ever took time off, seeing one or two clients a day, even on her supposed days off. To be honest she needed the rest. Maybe that was all that was wrong with her… She was just a little burnt out. It happened to the best of them, and she wasn't being big-headed when she counted herself as one of those.
Mattie loaded the dirty linen into her washing machine and switched it on, taking a sip of the Pinot she'd poured. Mmm, she'd really developed a liking for this stuff. She thought back to the first time she'd tasted and enjoyed it. Just a few weeks ago, with Simon. She sighed, smiling, as she remembered the night they'd spent together. For such a good hooker, she had enjoyed it just a little too much. Her pussy gave a surprise tingle as she recalled how he'd fucked her… If she was honest with herself, that was probably the last time she'd actually really enjoyed sex.
She sauntered from her kitchen, switching on her sound system as she passed. Prokofiev, she'd kind of gotten into that too. Swished into the bathroom and turned on the shower. As she dropped her robe to the floor, she reached round and unfastened her bra, wriggling out of her panties. Glancing round at her reflection in the mirror, she admired her back. She did love her tattoos. She mostly forgot that they were there, as she couldn't usually see them. She lifted her wine glass, took a long sip and stepped into the steamy shower unit.
Mattie stood, eyes closed, under the strong jets of water. It had been such a good move going for the deluxe model with the extra nozzles down the front and she felt herself relaxing as the spray began to massage her body. She had a taste for the finer things in life and she picked up her luxurious shampoo, inhaling the almond aroma, squeezed some into her palm and began to wash her hair. She realised that she was humming a tune and smiled once more as she allowed her mind to drift back to that night in the hotel with him.
Rinsing the suds from her wet locks, she picked up the gel and began to wash her body, thinking how impressed she'd been when she'd first seen his cock. It had been large and perfect. She was hardly a size queen, but she did like a big one. Remembering his expression as she'd taken hold of him, she allowed her hand to move between her own legs. Slick with the soapy water, her fingers were soon between the flowery folds of her still smarting pussy, washing and stroking. She sighed as she pushed two fingers inside. "God, that feels good."
She began to absentmindedly rub her clit. Had she actually come since she'd been with him? Was she only realising that now? Holy fuck! That was totally unheard of, something had to be done about it and fast! She rubbed quickly, more firmly, feeling the stirring of an orgasm, thinking of how he'd looked when she'd stroked him. She grinned as she remembered dropping her head down and swallowing his come… Now, that was unprofessional, he hadn't asked for that.
He hadn't seem to mind all the same and the evening had progressed from there and she'd eventually let him fuck her… "Let him," she thought, she'd probably wanted it even more than he had, probably almost begged, wiggling her arse in his face, like a cat in heat… She felt herself getting closer and closer and she leaned against the tiles, jets of water still massaging her skin and then she stopped.
Why hadn't he been in touch before now? She thought that he would have wanted another appointment with her. She really did, she'd even let herself hope for that. What had become of her? She NEVER let that happen!
As quickly as it had appeared, her desire to climax left her. She stood, fingers still against her clit, water running over her body. She sighed loudly and turned her face up towards the shower, opening her mouth and letting it fill with water… She grimaced as she realised that she had lost her come… "Damn that bastard."
Resigning herself to no orgasm, she quickly finished washing then turned off the shower. As she stepped out, she could hear the jangling of her mobile phone over the classical music coming from her living room. She grabbed a towel and ran, still dripping, into the room to answer it. It was Olivia. Shit, she was hoping for a night off.
"Hello, boss," she sighed, pulling the towel around her as she collapsed onto the sofa. Oh shit yeah, Olivia had called... What was it? A handjob from... OH SHIT! Was it HIM?
"What is it?" She almost screamed. "Is this about..."
"Oh, I bear glad tidings, darling," Olivia drawled. "You remember a few weeks back, you entertained that charming Irish fellow?"
Mattie sat bolt upright in her chair only just managing to check herself in time, before she squealed like a Japanese schoolgirl. "Oh yes, I think I remember him. It was in the Malmaison, wasn't it? He had the suite?"
"Yes, darling, that's the chap, and don't come across all cool with me… I know you liked him."
Fuck, Olivia could be a real bitch sometimes.
"Anyway," Olivia continued, barely pausing for breath, "It seems that he's quite keen to have another appointment with you. Strange, I thought he'd have been in touch sooner than this, given that he's new to the city, but apparently there was some problem which prevented him from coming back before now. He never went into details. Thing is, I'm not sure if you're going to love this or hate this…"
"What is it?" Mattie whined, "Out with it already! Damn you, woman!"
"Well, he wants to see you tomorrow night. Now I know you had plans, darling, but I think you ought to take this one; the girls will understand, you know they will."
Ah, her birthday. This was perfect, she really hadn't been able to make up her mind, this did it for her.
"I'll do it," she said firmly, "What's the plan? Handjob again?"
"No, he has some business thing on, he needs a smart, pretty girl on his arm, who knows how to use posh cutlery. Girlfriend Experience, basically... Dress formally. He may require you for the rest of the evening after that, so do pack an overnight bag, darling. Meet him at the same hotel, in the bar at 6.30 sharp. That sound okay?"
Mattie nodded, "No worries, Ollie. I'll be there, thank you."
"Have fun, darling and I hope you still manage to enjoy your birthday, 35 again isn't it?"
Mattie pressed 'end call' and stuck out her tongue at the little screen. "Fucking bitch."
She was glad she was still able to relax tonight though and once she was dressed in an old t-shirt and fresh panties, she poured another glass of wine, picked up her current book. 'Fifty Shades of Grey'. Fifty Shades Of Shite more like. God, it was crap, like Twilight for horny housewives. Still she'd started it now, so she would finish it. She didn't like to leave things unfinished.
The bottle on the side table only had a splash left in it and Mattie could barely keep her eyes open as she poured the dregs into her glass. She yawned, stretched and decided that it was time for bed. As she automatically picked up the few things lying on her bedroom floor to put them away, (her used knickers, chewed by Bob, a vibrator she'd used to tease him, the six-inch heels he liked her to wear... He was five foot four...) she began to think about what she would wear for her second 'date' with Simon.
She opened her wardrobe and looked through the dresses and gowns at the fancy end. She didn't know what the actual occasion was so she had to choose carefully. She didn't want to come across as tarty, or worse still, look like a prostitute, not that she ever really did. She did knew that he'd liked her tattoos, so she wanted to show them off, but at the same time, she was aware that, if this was a work thing, then it might be frowned upon by his colleagues. Inspiration struck and she pulled out a gorgeous, black Karen Millen number. It would be perfect for, although it was backless, she had really nice charcoal cashmere shrug which set it off well and would cover her artwork, just in case it wasn't appropriate to have it on show.
With her decision made, she flopped into bed and tried to read another page of the stupid book. She was fast asleep after half a paragraph. She dreamed of the rocking horse she'd had as a small girl, except in the dream the rocking horse could talk. It had an Irish accent.
Simon was distracted, in fact, he was feeling a little guilty. He'd just finished his call to 'madame' Olivia, to book another appointment with Mattie, about which he was relieved. He had actually been quite taken with her, but the reason for his unease was because of what had happened after she'd left. He had misjudged her.
As he'd been on expenses on his trip to the city, he'd been able to book into a posh hotel suite and that was fine, he enjoyed the chance to do that (enjoyed it all the more when he had the pleasure of a beautiful woman, not that he'd employed the services of an escort much, but he knew that his time was limited and he couldn't be bothered going through the rigmarole of picking someone up). He was mostly pretty successful when it came to the opposite sex, certainly he had the gift of the gab and women seemed to love his soft Irish accent.
He was a smart guy. He'd little formal education, having dropped out of school at 16 to help care for his ailing mother. He learned to duck and dive, talk his way into, and out of situations. He was never short on cash and found that he had a knack for predicting trends; ended up working in stocks and shares. He dabbled here and there, made a good turn, which was just as well when his mother's health took a sharp downturn. He was able to pay for private healthcare for her and, when her recovery looked bleak, he found an excellent residential care home, where she was very well looked after. He visited her every week (when he wasn't traveling) and he knew how much she looked forward to his company. She told him that he was a good son and he knew that was true.
It had worked out better for him in the long run anyway, for as much as he loved his 'Ma', he had bought her old house, staged it and sold it for a very decent profit. That was his first foray into property development. It turned out that he had an eye for that too… He just seemed to be able to pick just the right places at the right time. By chance, not that he really believed there was such a thing, he met a guy who sort of took him under his wing, introduced him to the right people, utilised Simon's talents so that they both ended up making quite considerable amounts of money.
Now, 25 years down the line, Simon was pretty well off. He could pick and choose his projects, his enterprises, where and when he would work. Life was good. Of course, his mother kept nagging him about continuing the family line. He would always wave her away, "Ma, you know I'm not interested in being tied down to just one woman. Besides, you know I'm too busy. I don't have time to meet women."
It was true, he didn't have the time. Sure, there were always women fawning over him, but none had really kept his attention beyond a date or two. He'd had fun with Mattie. Okay, so they'd only really spent a night together, but he'd not felt so relaxed in ages. True, coming in a sweet girl's mouth was sure to help let go of tension, no doubt about that… The thing was, she'd been gone by the time he'd woken next morning. The room service breakfast was sitting on the bed, where she'd slept and she'd obviously eaten before she'd left. She'd scribbled, "Thank you," in eyeliner on one of the soft napkins and left a lipstick kiss. He'd smiled although he had to admit that he was a little disappointed, he wouldn't have minded having her again before she'd left. He wouldn't have minded paying the extra it would have cost… Although, she hadn't charged him for staying over night, that had surprised him. He'd expected that she would have and of course, he would have happily paid over the odds for it, we all have a living to make.
He remembered that he had lain in bed, eating his breakfast and reading the newspaper. The coffee was still warm in the pot, so she couldn't have been very long gone. He was in no rush to check out, as he wasn't meeting his client until lunchtime. He decided to take a wander around the city, see the sights. He knew this place had more to show him than the museums he'd already visited and you never knew, he might just spot a some little renovation project along the way... Once he'd gotten all of his stuff together, he had put on his coat, picked up his case and laptop bag and headed down the stairs to check out. It wasn't until he got to reception that he patted his breast pocket to take out his wallet. It wasn't there. Shit! Oh god, surely not… She wouldn't have? I mean, it was always a risk you took, but she seemed so nice… Fuck! And he had thought that he liked her...
Fucking whores, they were all the same, yet he'd really liked this one. What a bloody fool he was. He allowed the thought to fester as he decided to call the madam, Olivia, soonest in the hope of getting his fucking wallet back without involving the police. "That BITCH, that thieving tattooed bitch!"
"I'm terribly sorry, began Simon, to the pretty receptionist, "but I'm afraid I appear to have mislaid...."
"Your wallet, Sir," said the the smiling, uniformed girl in her Scottish accent, producing his leather Prada purse. "You left it on the table in the restaurant last night. Please check the contents for me, Sir..."
Of course all his cash and cards were there.
Afterwards he felt horribly guilty about thinking, even for a moment, that Mattie had stolen from him. In fact, his guilt stopped him from calling her agency for weeks. And he did want to see her again. He had liked her...
So, when it was decided that the company he was in the city to take public would be holding a media launch to celebrate their flotation, he decided to ring the madam Olivia to see if she might be available. It was a risk, he knew, but he thought she might enjoy it, and he, for reasons he couldn't quite explain, wanted her to see him in his real life. He rang the madam and booked her, giving a time and a venue, and vague instructions about how she must dress. As it happened, the launch of 'Robinson Properties' was in the function suite of the hotel where he had first entertained her.
He had no doubt she would rise to the occasion, as very possibly might he. He grinned at that thought.
Mattie opened her eyes and stretched. The sun was streaming through the bedroom window and she felt as rested as she'd done in ages. She smiled and recalled fragments of dreams from the night before. Something to do with a talking rocking horse? Geez, her brain was weird and she grinned, imagining what a psychologist would make of it all. She glanced over at her wardrobe and noticed the black dress hanging on the door, which jogged her memory and reminded her that she had things to do for her date tonight.
"Fuck, APPOINTMENT, not date," she grimaced and jumped out of bed. Her phone was charging in its dock, she picked it up and texted Suzie at the salon to see if she could book in for an overhaul. She pulled on plain knickers, a vest and blue jeans, grabbed her socks and trainers and headed for the kitchen. As she filled the kettle, her phone vibrated in her pocket. Suzie, confirming her appointment in an hour. She poured a glass of orange juice and made some breakfast. It was almost 3.30pm.
After she'd eaten, she lit a cigarette and, as she inhaled her first nicotine of the day, she pondered the options for her pussy. She normally just trimmed it herself into a neat little triangle, but maybe it was time for a change? She didn't like to shave so she dismissed that idea immediately since it always looked to her as if the person had undergone chemo for cancer of the fanny. I mean, think about it, who wants their vagina to look like like that? Some of the younger girls on Olivia's books had had their bushes trimmed into shapes; like exclamation marks, or an arrow pointing downward, or in the case of the dopey girl from Newcastle, an upside down question mark.
Mattie laughed at the memory of that one. "That girl is such an airhead." She rejected this idea out of hand, she didn't want to make him laugh. A Brazilian it would be then, a landing strip. "BRRRRRRRMMMMM!" With Luck! Mind made up, she made her way to the salon.
After a gruelling two hours of being plucked, tweezed, waxed, hair cut, blow dried… She emerged, a new woman! She caught her reflection in a window as she passed and was very pleased. Her hair looked superb, legs waxed, underarms smooth and her pussy felt amazing… If she were a guy she'd be doing that absentminded nonsexual stroking thing that they do, just because she could. She couldn't wait to get home and admire it… She was glad she didn't have any clients.
As she approached her flat, she saw a flower delivery van, just about to pull away. The guy noticed her, stopped and gesticulated towards her house, as if to ask if she lived there. She nodded and sped up to meet him, you know the way when you hold a door open for someone, they'll start to half run, half jog to get there more quickly…
"Got a delivery for you, love," he grinned.
Was he flirting with her? Ha! The salon time had been worth it. The driver bent over and Mattie admired his tight, uniformed ass, until he turned to face her, holding a huge bouquet of flowers. Ooh she loved flowers!
"Who are they from?" She wondered, peeling the envelope from the wrapping. "Ah, the girls, promising to rearrange a night out to celebrate…" That was nice. She pulled the bouquet to her face and inhaled, man, she loved the smell of roses. She thanked the guy and went inside.
She put the flowers into a vase, spending a few minutes arranging them and then ran herself a bath… She wanted to look her best for her date, assignment, arrangement, date… "Fuck!! Stop it Mattie!! It's not a fucking date… It's work… It's work, just work."
Simon shook hands with the Taiwanese businessmen, bowing slightly, as he said his goodbyes. He glanced at his watch and realised that it was almost time for him to get ready for the launch. He was actually starting to feel a little nervous, which was unusual for him. His confidence was generally well placed. He was a smart guy and very talented at what he did but tonight, well, it was a big deal.
He hoped that his decision to bring Mattie as a date would pay off… "Not really a date," he corrected himself, "His escort."
She had the looks to impress and she had struck him as smart enough to accompany him, plus he had found her rather charming and likeable. As well as eminently fuckable of course. He'd never pick just anyone, but it was hardly going to be a chore to spend time with her. If he was honest about it, he was actually really looking forward to seeing her again, business arrangement or not, he was sure it would be fun.
He made his way back to his hotel room, nodding to the receptionist as he passed.
Swiping his card in the door, he entered his suite, casually dropping his briefcase and suit jacket. He'd already decided what he was going to wear and he knew he'd look pretty cool. He had clients and potential clients to impress tonight, but his mind was full of that cute little hooker. He smiled to himself as he stepped out of his clothes and headed for the shower. He found himself getting rather stiff as he remembered her eager expression when she had first made a fist around his cock. God, but she'd been good and he reckoned that she had actually been as surprised as he had when she'd dipped her head to catch his come in her mouth. He hadn't asked for that, but it had been perfect, just perfect.
Afterwards, he'd wanted to watch her dress before she left and he was glad he'd had the temerity to ask her to stay. Had he actually asked that or had she offered? It wasn't entirely clear in his mind now. He did remember wanting to watch her dress and touch up her makeup. He was really relieved that she'd not stolen from him. He was usually such a good judge of character, it had served him well over the years. It would have been a bit of a blow now, to find out he'd been so wrong about this one. He felt slightly guilty that he had even momentarily thought that of her.
As he began to wash his body, his thoughts drifted to the way her inked flesh had shuddered as he had fucked her from behind. Tattoos were not generally his thing at all, not that he objected to them, not really, but her designs were beautifully thought out and there had obviously been not just a lot of thought put into them, but great skill in their application. It was a work of art which he was looking forward to viewing again, if all went well tonight. His cock was very stiff by now and he knew that it wouldn't just go down of its own accord, he would have to take care of it. So, he made a fist around his shaft, pulling his foreskin back and forth.
Coaxing himself to full rigidity took only a moment and he closed his eyes and imagined that it was Mattie's pussy, tight around his turgid tool, as he pulled his hand up and down, faster and faster. His breathing was ragged and he envisioned her decorated back, her glorious buttocks grinding back against his pelvis. He felt himself fucking her faster, harder, slapping her ass and her squealed response, thrusting back harder still, meeting each push as his cock filled her. He was about to come and his breath was a rasp as he imagined pulling out of her tight, wet little hole and shooting his seed over the pictures on her skin.
He stood for a moment, with his eyes closed, catching his breath and letting the hot water from the shower remove all traces of his semen. Then he turned off the water and stepped out. Time to get ready for his date, MEETING! Time to get ready for his meeting.
Mattie was ready, she applied a final coat of mascara and lit herself yet another cigarette. Her taxi was due anytime now and she had butterflies in her stomach as she waited for a ringback, to let her know the car was outside. Suddenly her phone buzzed and she heard a car horn. It was time to go. She picked up her little valise and made her way downstairs. The driver was one who regularly picked her up and she exchanged the usual pleasantries with him as he took her to the hotel. She really felt rather nervous. Shit, she was going to have to chill out a bit, this wouldn't do. Why did she feel like this? "It's just a job, isn't it?"
But she knew the answer, she just wasn't quite ready to admit to herself that she might be kinda falling for a client. "Falling for a client? Really? After just one date? Nah, not her, it must be hormones or something," she was a professional girl and she would keep it professional. She took a small bottle out of her purse and dropped some Rescue Remedy onto her tongue, hoping that it would relax her a little. Then she slipped her hand underneath her skirt and drank from the hip-flask of brandy she'd stashed in her stocking top...
As her cab pulled up in front of the hotel, the driver told her that she looked beautiful, that he'd never seen her look quite so stunning. She thanked him and added a bigger tip. She blew him a kiss as she extended the handle of her small wheelie-case and entered the reception area.
Her instruction was to meet Simon in the bar, so she left her little case with the pretty young woman in reception and headed in that direction. She spotted him almost immediately, talking to a small Arab gentleman, and she took a deep breath and began to walk towards him. At this distance, it gave her the opportunity to really take him in properly. He looked so confident and handsome, "Boy does he know how to wear a suit!" She did like a man in well-tailored clothes and Simon was no exception. His hair was long and she could see that it still looked a little damp, she remembered running her fingers through it last time.
Simon turned his head and spotted her. He smiled a smile that lit up his whole face and made his eyes twinkle. He placed his hand on his companion's shoulder, obviously excusing himself and walked towards her. Mattie could feel her face warm as a blush spread across her cheeks. She felt herself begin to grin, but managed to stop it in time and smiled demurely instead. She wasn't sure whether to hold out her hand to shake his but he saved her the decision by placing a hand on each shoulder and pulling her into an embrace.
"Mattie!" He exclaimed as kissed first one cheek and then the other, before lightly kissing her perfectly red lips. "How wonderful to see you! Are you well? Thank you so much for coming." He held her a little longer than was necessary as he inhaled her perfume.
"Oh it's my pleasure, Simon, thank you so much for inviting me," she replied as he took her hand and led her back to the reception area. Holy crap, he smelled amazing!
A waiter passed by, carrying a tray of champagne and Simon took a glass for each of them and motioned for her to sit down in one of the little designer armchairs.
"Well, my dear. Let's just sort out the arrangements before things get underway," he said, touching his glass gently against hers. "Cheers."
"Cheers," she responded and took a sip. "Mmm, that's delicious!" She grinned at him. "Shit! She hadn't meant to grin, oh fuck it."
"Right, first things first," Simon began to explain. "Your attire is stunning, thank you for choosing so well. You look perfect."
Mattie smiled sweetly, surprised at how her heart leapt to hear him say that, and nodded her thanks.
She offered to take her stuff to the suite. Simon said, "No, that's not the reason you're here. I was hoping you'd come in and watch me work."
And watch him she did, impressed, hypnotised, as he took to the podium and explained how investment from three different continents was going to lead to huge profits and gains for all involved. She felt proud to be with him, to be a part of this. The other people there were very impressed by him too. At the end of his speech, he blushed at his standing ovation and went to walk over to her but was interrupted by some business men. Finally, he managed to get to her and apologised for making her wait. He said that it must have been boring.
She said that she had enjoyed it, was impressed, although she didn't really understand it.
He blushed sweetly and said, "Oh it was nothing… Just work."
An Arab gentleman came up to Simon, shook his hand and gushed, "My friend, that was very impressive! I think it's going to be a wonderful collaboration. You must introduce me to your beautiful companion?" He looked at Mattie, salaciously.
Simon put his arm around Mattie's waist and said, "Mattie - Musharaf, Musharaf - Mattie."
"And how do you know this financial wizard?" Enquired Musharaf.
Simon stumbled, blushing, "Well, we… I…"
Mattie butted in, "We occasionally have a business arrangement."
Relieved, Simon said, "Yes, that's it, a business arrangement…"
Mattie beamed at Musharaf, "Yes, Simon's done very well by me and I'm sure he'll do the same by you…"
"Yes, quite…" Gushed Simon, smiling boyishly.
He excused himself to Musharaf and took Mattie to their table for dinner. She was impressed by everyone's reaction to Simon, someone sent champagne to their table and people patted his shoulder as they passed by. It seemed that everyone was celebrating the lucrative deal. At one point, Simon attempted to explain what the deal actually was.
Mattie switched off, neither really interested nor able to fully understand - she had always found financial stuff tedious. Ask her accountant! The hair he'd lost since he'd taken Mattie on as a client… As Simon observed how pretty she was, he mistook her bafflement for tiredness and asked if she wanted to go up? She assented, though she was not in fact even slightly fatigued. In truth, she was excited...
The two of them stood, suddenly awkward in the lift, with nothing to say to each other, realising what their next step was. In their silence, the situation was becoming more and more awkward…
To break the silence, Mattie blurted out, "Nice lift," giving herself a mental facepalm, "For fuck's sake, Mattie!!"
"Yeah, yeah, as lifts go, the buttons are there, alarm bell, nice elevator... A Schindler.... Schindler's Lifts, I guess...", laughed Simon.
"Fuck fuck fuck," thought Mattie, feeling incredibly silly. Suddenly she thought of something to say, "Which floor?"
"Press five, we'll walk up," he replied. "You walk ahead... Let me look at you, Mattie..."
The lift pinged to announce their arrival and Simon lifted Mattie's bag with one hand, snaking his other arm around her waist. She turned to look at him and gulped as he smiled, "After you…"
This story was a collaboration between Mazza and Stephanie.
Do feel free to comment and vote and thank you so much for reading.