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A Lady for a Night

My 24th story , alas also my last. Read the story and the author's note at the end
My two-room suite at the Grand Hotel was nicely appointed and comfortable. The only drawback was the lack of female company. I decided to look at what was available. The area where the ladies of the night are waiting for business was not too far away and I thought I would give it a try.

Cruising slowly down the street I passed by many girls, but none attracted my attention. Maybe I am too picky. What I saw were women needing money for drugs, run away girls already on drugs. Welt, you know the score.

As I slowly cruised around the area where the ladies of the night hang out, I did not see one that interested me. I felt lonely and I wanted company tonight, so I kept looking.

On my second round I saw her. She was leaning against one of those fake lamp posts that lined the street, a fact, which gave me the chance to get a better look at her. She was almost, but not quite, petite, wearing her long blond hair in a pony tail. She looked about eighteen, maybe twenty. I decided to give her a try and parked the car close by in the only free spot.

I waited for her to approach my car, but she did not appear at my window. I looked in the rear view mirror and saw the reason. Another John had stopped and was talking to her. I could not hear what was said, but the John finally left and she noticed my waiting car. I watched her in the mirror and admired her graceful walk. She walked with the easy grace of a dancer.

She advanced unhurriedly, a black purse slung over her shoulder, giving me ample time to appraise her figure. She appeared slim with small breast, two features I like. Her four-inch black heels made her slender long legs appear even longer. This was the one, I told myself, if we can come to an agreement. She will be more expensive, I figured, but, what the heck, she is worth it.

When her face appeared in my car window I knew it was her or none. True, her face was overdone with too much mascara, eye liner and lash enhancer. The lipstick was garish, but despite all that, she was beautiful. I was immediately drawn to her eyes that seemed to sparkle. They told me that here was a girl with humor, another feature I really liked. Looking at her I wondered what it was that made her so attractive. Then I told myself that I could try and figure that out later, right now we had business negotiations to conduct.

"Looking for some action?" she greeted me with a husky, inviting, sexy voice that made my hormones get more frisky than they were already.

"That depends on what you have to offer and what I am willing to shell out," I answered her. "Let's talk inside. No use you standing outside, that's were the cops are."

"How do I know you are not a cop? If I come in, will you show me your wallet?" She looked up and down the street to make sure the coast was clear.

"You are safe with me, come in and we will talk," I urged. I didn't want to lose her to another John.

She finally convinced herself that I was a real John and not a cop. She opened the passenger door and as she slid in I noticed again the sinuous grace of a dancer. She had looked like eighteen when I saw at the lamp post, but now I looked closed and surprised myself. This girl was not eighteen. She was somewhere between twenty-eight and thirty-five.

I turned to her and asked the usual question. "How much?"

"You promised to show me your wallet, remember?"

"OK, OK, I will as soon as I get this damn seatbelt out of the way, so I can get at it."

"Open it," she told me, "I want to see your badge."

"Hey girl, I told you twice already that I am not a cop. Let me open it. See, no badge."

"At least you are smart. Never carry your money in your wallet. And when a guy holds you up, drop it on the ground and take off if you can, while he picks it up. He wants the wallet, not you. This lesson was free of charge from Jessica."

"Much appreciated, Jessica, Call me Bill. So now, how much?"

"The standard is two hundred. You want both, it's three hundred. Overnighter is five hundred. My back side is not available. You pay for the room. You give me a ride back or pay for a taxi. I have a deal with the Flamingo, if that's OK with you." It sounded like a canned talk that had been delivered many tines before.

"I have a room at the Grand Hotel, I just have to figure out how to smuggle you in. They are quite particular and I don't know if there is a back door we can use," I told her, hoping that she might know. Being in the trade, she probably knows all kinds of back doors, I assumed. And she did.

"At each end of the corridors is a fire escape door. The stairs open into the alley. I used them just a week ago," she answered with a slight giggle.

We parked the car in the back lot and made our way to the fire escape exit. It did not open. I suddenly realized, it would open only from the inside.

"Stay here," I told her, I will open the door in just a few moments. I hurried to the street. Don't let your urgency show, walk normally, I told myself. I smiled at the doorman, walked through the lobby, trying to appear calm. I punched the elevator button and waited. :Hurry," I quietly implored the elevator, as if I had some power over it.

An eternity later the door opened to disgorge a family of five, father mother, and, three kids, not at all in a hurry to leave. They had much too many suitcases and teddy bears for traveling. I struggled to keep my composure. The girl I had left standing in the alley was my responsibility, and I had to get to that damn door and let her in. When I finally stepped out of the elevator on the second floor I let out a deep breath.

I ran to the end of the corridor, pushed the fire escape door open and suddenly I realized the fix I was in. If the door closed I was locked out, I had to keep it open somehow. My heart rate went up another notch. Then a solution came to me. I ripped off my left shoe and wedged it in the door.

It was hard hobbling down the concrete steps. When I finally reached the ground floor and ripped open the fire escape door I was greeted by a smiling Jessica, who seemed to be unfazed by the fact that she had to wait in a dark alley for quite a time.

"Did you meet another girl?" she teased me as she brushed past me. "Sure took your time."

There would have been no way to bring her into the hotel and up to my room through the front entrance. Definitely never past the doorman, and surely not through the lobby. Jessica wore a black micro that barely covered her vital parts. Her tank top was too small, but it prominently showed off her nipples. With her face made up the way it was, everything about her screamed, .. Prostitute.

We climbed the stairs to the second floor in silence. But when she came to the propped up door and saw my shoe holding it open she had a laughing fit and another of her funny comments.

"The knight in shining armor, rescuing the fair maiden in distress arrives half naked," she chuckled. I decided belatedly to take off my other shoe also. It was much easier to walk. The carpet in the hallway felt wonderful after the concrete steps of the fire escape stairs.

 "Very nice suite, John, eh, sorry, Bill," she announced, after she had inspected the bedroom, the large, separate shower, and the bathroom.

"May I offer you a drink, Jessica?" I asked, and then quickly added. "That is if you like a vodka martini, because that's the only drink that's in my little refrigerator." She accepted at once.

"I am sure this is not the first time you asked for a girl's services. So I must assume that you are aware that there is a time limit. Mine is forty-five minutes." She didn't say so, but the way she delivered her little speech also included a reminder that I had not paid her.

"I know, I know." I smiled at her. I fixed our two vodka martinis while I mulled over my choices for the evening. When I served her the martini I looked her over again and I made up my mind and sort of asked her about it.

"I am just thinking if I should ask you to stay all night, would you be agreeable."

"Sure, Bill," she answered without hesitation. "You seem to be an OK guy. I'll stay if you drive me home tomorrow morning or pay for a taxi. I must be home before eleven."

We sipped on our martinis and discussed the recent events in the world, and then what had happened in our small personal sphere at work and at home.

It was time to get serious. I pulled my money from my side pocket and peeled off five on-hundred dollar bills. I was glad I had visited an ATM this afternoon. The money disappeared with out a comment into her black handbag.

Then she turned to me with a pixy smile, striking a pose that was both a display as also a blatant invitation.

"Like the package? It's yours."

Her husky, sexy voice had me going even before I took the last sip of my drink and I moved closer to her. She shivered slightly when I kissed her neck. Then she turned to face me and kissed me with hot, experienced lips. No prostitute had ever kissed me before. Was I someone special?

I got up and pulled her by her hands from the couch, put my arm around her waist to lead her to my bedroom. She surprised me when she twisted out of my grip and excused herself, grabbed her purse and disappeared into the bathroom. When she returned she reversed the roles, put her arm around my waist and waltzed me to the bedroom.

It was midnight when we fell into a well deserved sleep. When I woke up the next morning at eight I found Jessica curled up behind me. Her left arm was reaching over me, holding me prisoner.

She woke immediately when I tried to quietly remove her arm. First she turned me on my back, then swung one leg over me and kneeled to face me. She wore a broad smile as she addressed me with mock seriousness, waving a finger in my face.

"There is one thing you have top learn about Jessica. I do not cheat my customers. I deliver what I was paid for."

And she did. After we had showered I asked her not to use make-up. I wanted to see her as a person.

"Absolutely not," she insisted. "You paid me the way I looked last night and until you have driven me home I will remain the Jessica you paid for. But you can get some of that Continental Breakfast they have downstairs, and some hot black coffee."

We took our time munching on our rolls and sipping hot coffee. We finished about ten thirty and I had to ask the question that would end this memorable encounter.

"I have two questions, Jessica. Number one, where do you live? And number two, is there a chance to meet you again??"

"As to number one, I will show you. As to number two, YES. I had hoped you would ask, Bill" she answered with a smile.

I drove her home, winding up in a nice suburban neighborhood. Jessica opened her purse and took out a garage door opener.

 "Turn into the driveway right after the fire hydrant, and drive right into the garage," she directed me. "I don't normally invite a customer into my home. But I will make an exception for you."

"What a night," she chuckled once we were inside. "But what took you so long? I had to turn down four Johns before I saw our car. Well, we better get ready for Mom. She will be here soon with the kids."

"You know, sweetheart, I love our kids as much as you do, but it was also nice to have a weekend without them," I told my wife.

[Author's note]
This will be my 24th story, and also my last story, at least for the foreseeable future. My college courses (Neurology and Astronomy) are taxing, plus I want to keep my three other languages alive. My friends tell me that a ninety year-old should simmer down. I disagree. I loveto be busy. It is my hope that a few of you have enjoyed some of my stories.

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