Thai'd & Bound (Please PM to join)

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~LOA

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Character:
Malcolm Hanscomb
Broker / Negotiator, International Sales (U.S. Division)
Thai International Importers & Exporters, Inc.
Age: 45
6'5 ... 265 lbs ... black hair / military crew cut ... close cropped goatee


It had been a long week of conducting business. Malcolm sat in his hotel suite, reviewing all his paperwork, contracts, and legal documents. Everything seemed to be in order, as it always was. However, Malcolm was a perfectionist, paying careful, close attention to every little detail. It was inherent in his personality; he always found it necessary to inspect and approve every minute thing that crossed his path. Malcolm, by no means, had an obsessive, compuslive disorder. This trait actually helped him achieve the great successes he had notched under his belt. It was attention to detail which drew the attention of his employer, and landed him a lucrative career as a broker and negotiator for the sale of various goods between Thailand, and the United States. Several corporate executives of Thai International Importers & Exporters, Inc. came into contact with Malcolm when making a lucrative deal with a major exporter of goods. Malcolm brought to their attention, a small gap in the tarriff laws that ended up saving the company, an estimated 3.1 million dollars.

The president, and other top executives of TII & E, saw no problem in offering Malcolm a position within their program. Along with the position came a lot of incentives, in addition to the incredible salary. Some of his more notable incentives, were: immediate full vestment in the company, with a sizable number of shares in his name; fully paid luxury travel in a private, corporate jet, between Thailand and various destinations throughout the U.S.; luxury hotel suites with lavish meals; and a rather sizeable discretionary *entertainment* budget.

Malcolm had taken advantage of the opportunity to immerse himself in the various customs and traditions of Thailand when he spent time there. It was his attention to detail and such, which seemed to draw him, and lure him towards the darker, seedier spots of the oriental land. During his time there, Malcolm would spend a majority, if not all his free time, exploring and studying the lifestyle of the inhabitants that either lived or frequented the U.S. Naval port of calls. It grew to be his little home away from home, finding himself conversing with the armed service personnel when they came in, on their leave. It was during this period, a mere three years ago, when Malcolm decided to begin investigating the option of opening another division of TII & E. Working closely with his peers, it was agreed that Malcolm was free to expand and oversee the operations under the umbrella of TII & E. Any profits experienced by his venture would be split between himself and the company, in addition to his current salary, 75% to him, the rest to the company. However, the risk associated with his new venture, meant that if there were any repurcussions, TII & E would deny any knowledge of it, and Malcolm would be immediately released.

So now, at the end of another arduous week, Malcolm Hanscomb, found himself relaxing in his hotel suite, in Las Vegas. He was not a gambler by trade, and didn't really care for the fantastic shows that were scattered all about. He was truly exhausted, and could only think of one thing as he thumbed through the various leaflets and pamphlets advertising the various options for private entertainment.

SEX! Yes! That was what Malcolm wanted right now. It would definitely relieve his tensions of a hectic work week. Vegas was the epitome of sin cities around the world. He chuckled as he read through the wide array of fetishes that availed themselves so readily. He tossed all the pamphlets to the side and reached for his wallet. In there he pulled a business card piece of paper from the billfold, and located a number that the helpful concierge had entrusted him with. He assured Malcolm, he would not be disappointed. Malcolm reached for the phone and reclined in the soft plush sofa, propping his stockinged feet up on the glass tabletop that sat in front of the sofa. He dialed the number and waited till a beautiful, but older sounding voice answered.

"Platinum Pleasures, this is Madeline, how may I help you?"

Malcolm, drew in his breath, "Hello." He chuckled at the image he created in his mind, yet he continued. "Yes, I was wondering if I could employ the services of one of your lovely ladies for the evening?" He further included the referral from the concierge at the front desk, which seemed to give him priority treatment. The lady's voice picked up in cheeriness, and actually raised an octave or two. "Yes, I would prefer someone who is rather curvy, and rather well endowed; hair color and height are not overly important." He provided a few other details of what he was looking for, and the receptionist, eagerly complied jotting it all down.

"I'll have the perfect companion at your door within thirty minutes; is that amenable?" The lovely lady aked with a hint of expectation, hoping the answer was affirmative.

Malcolm assured that it was. The two went over the terms of the agreement between all the parties and what was included, and what was not. Tipping for additional services was at the discretion of the escorts and could be discussed with them individually. Malcolm chuckled, having gone through the routine many times before, and agreed. He gave the full payment for the entire evening, charging it to his corporate spending account. Both parties exchanged pleasantries and wished each other an enjoyable evening.

Malcolm hung up the phone and tossed the wireless receiver to the far end of the couch. He grabbed the television remote from the table and turned on the television which was a six foot projection screen, on the far wall. He muted the volume, watching a business news channel, with a running tickertape of useful information scrolling across the bottom. He closed his eyes, finally relaxing, and leaned back, resting and waiting for his entertainment to arrive.

Life was good.

My body warmed under the heat of the sun as I rested on my chaise lounge. It was a beautiful day. I had a beautiful apartment. I had a beautiful life. I was only out of college for two years and making as much as my parents combined. And we weren’t poor. Work didn’t consume my life either, I pretty much set my own schedule and besides, what I did was fun and I enjoyed it immensely. It wasn’t that I was all materialistic. I liked pretty things, whatever they cost. But most importantly, I loved the freedom that came from having money. I could pursue the things that interested me.

I could travel. I could take dance lessons or art lessons or work on a novel. I was free to grow myself into what I wanted to be. Of course, there seems to always be something life that isn’t quite perfect. It wasn’t so much that it bothered me. But it bothered others. They didn’t agree with what they considered my immoral lifestyle. I got some flack from it. My parents wouldn’t speak with me for awhile. After all, I had attended a good college, received excellent grades, and had many job offers. I wouldn’t have had to go into this. But I wanted to. And I did.

Some women called me a whore. Some men did too. Maybe I was. But I wasn’t cheap. And I didn’t consider it an insult. I don’t consider myself a whore. But we’re somewhat related. I’m an escort.

I discovered it late in my junior year of college. One of my old professors who knew of my gravitation toward older men asked me to attend a charity event with him. He bought me a blue gown to wear that was simply stunning. I was working at the Lancôme counter at a department store then so between my friends at work and me we turned me into something of a knockout. I didn’t look like a co-ed, I looked elegant and womanly. I had a wonderful time. He received many compliments on me that night. Not just because of how I looked. It was my etiquette (thanks mom and Emily Post), my brains (thank you Board of Regents of an unidentified university), and my personality (thank genetics.)

He gave me money that night. I was first a little offended. But he said it was like babysitting. Just like with a child; I was keeping him out of mischief. Indeed, we did not have sex or anything, just a chaste kiss on the cheek, believe it or not. I protested but eventually took the money and it sat in my purse for two weeks before I did anything with it. Finally I went to his office hours and insisted that we talk.

I was drawn to it. I questioned my motives and thoughts and why I was attracted to the idea. But I enjoyed the company of men. And I enjoyed sex. My parents were rather liberal sexually so I didn’t have the moral issues that other people sometimes struggle with. But it didn’t always end with sex. If there was an attraction it would happen. I was fortunate to have found an agency which catered to upscale clients; thus increasing the probability that both of our evenings would end pleasurably.

I glanced at the clock and got up; I was working tonight and starting in an hour and half I could be called at any time and be expected to be at a client’s location in less than a half hour. I had no time to waste. I typically had my own clientele and didn’t need to rely on new customers but one of my favorites had transferred to NYC so I had some time I was looking to fill. I started the shower, my hand flitting under the spray, waiting for the perfect temperature. I hurriedly rid myself of my clothes and examined myself in the mirror. Heredity had been kind to me. I had inherited my father’s thick brunette hair and his eyes; large, brown, and expressive; fringed with long lashes. I had also inherited my mother’s figure, something of a curse in my childhood yet now something I had grown to appreciate. She had continually assured me I would eventually come to adore my sizable breasts and firm ass; that my entire body didn’t need to be as little as my waist. My measurements seemed out of proportion and to top that off I was tall. Yet the first time I had allowed a man to see me naked I quickly changed my point of view. You can never hear “Damn, baby,” too many times.

This had been the first time in a long while that I may meet with a new client. The first meetings were always a little intimidating for me but I had been with the agency for about 4 years now and I knew that they were extremely safety-conscious. Still there was always that little bit of doubt in my mind walking into a strange place to meet a strange man. More often than not they were lonesome or too busy to find a different sort of female companion and perfectly harmless. But sometimes…well, it was rare. And besides, the agency employed various hulking males to protect us from the pervs.

I waltzed around in my walk-in closet clad only in my towel trying to find something suitable to wear. Typically my appointments would involve going out somewhere or staying in so to be on the safe side I decided on my favorite black dress, a little number that came about an inch or two above my knee with a square neck that, with the right bra, gave me a nice amount of cleavage. The dress was flattering, emphasizing my small waist and shapely rear. I choose a black lace demi bra with a matching thong. Thongs weren’t my favorite item of clothing but guys seemed to like them if they had a chance to see them. I topped it off with some black sheer stockings fastened to my garter belt and strappy black stilettos. I also packed a small bag with a cute bra top I got at Victoria’s Secret, boot cut jeans, and some heels; just in case the evening called for a more casual look.

I was just applying my last coat of mascara when my phone rang, “I’m too Sexy” by Right Said Fred. I always smiled when I heard the ringtone I had devoted to calls from my agency and quickly hurried to answer it.

“Hi Maddie,” I answered. Maddie, or Madeline as clients called her, had almost single-handedly taken me from awkward co-ed to woman; supervising my transformation lovingly and carefully. She was like a mother/older sister rolled into one and I cherished our relationship.

“Hi honey. I’ve made an appointment for you this evening.”

“That was fast,” I laughed.

“Well, when they mention well-endowed you’re always the first one that comes to mind," Maddie teased.

I chuckled. “Oh, a boob man, I see.” Maddie quickly rattled off the details and let me know that my ride would be arriving in less than five minutes.

“You are ready, aren’t you? I know it’s been awhile since you’ve met someone new…” Maddie’s voice took on a gentle tone. “But everything seems in order and he was articulate and well-mannered when we spoke over the phone. And Tony, your favorite concierge, referred him to us so he can’t be all that bad.” I smiled. I would have to give Tony a kiss on the cheek for thinking of us like that.

“I’m fine, Maddie, really. You’ve taught me well. I’ll let you know how it turns out.”

“Alright, honey. Just remember that you’ve got Jay if you need him.”

“I will. Thanks so much. Have a good night. Bye.” I flipped the phone shut. Maddie was such an angel. She had even paired me with Jay, one of the security/driver guys. I called him my bodyguard as he was always my favorite. I took one last look at myself in the mirror before leaving; doing a mental inventory to make sure everything was in order. I closed and locked my door and headed to the first floor where the white Escalade was waiting for me.

I made small talk with Jay as we drove the short distance to where my client was staying. He parked under the awning and opened the door for me, giving me a hug as soon as I stepped out of the SUV. “You remember I got your back, ok?” I gave him a thumbs up sign. “Alright, you just call me when you’re ready to go home.” I smiled.

“Will do. Have a good night, my bodyguard.” I waved and headed into the building. I winked at the doorman as he held the door open for me. He knew who I was and what I did and it didn’t matter to him. We’d talk about opera or football sometimes as I was waiting for my ride. I walked into the lobby. It was breathtaking and no matter how many times I walked through it I was still awed.

I made my way to the elevator, oblivious to the eyes that were on me. I was focused on my assignment. The client’s room was on the top floor, reserved only for the most exclusive guests. The elevator seemed to stop at every floor in the building until finally reaching the top. I stepped out, my stilettos sinking into the plush carpet and made my way to room 1309. I took a deep breath and confidently rapped three times on the door.

“Tap, tap, tap.”

“Damn,” he cursed, woken from a quick power nap that he hadn’t planned on taking. Malcolm knew exactly who was at the door, and couldn’t believe he had dozed off during that brief span of time. He rose from his seat, tiredly dragging them through the plush carpet, making his way to the door. He had to stop, giving his legs a chance to wake up and get blood circulating properly in them once again. He wobbled to and fro in place for a few seconds. “Be right there,” he called out, not wanting his entertainment to leave.

The tingling sensation in his legs quickly evaporated as his mind and body finally awoke. Malcolm ran his hands through his hair, what little of it there was, for it was cut short, making him almost look like he belonged in the military, had it not been for the similarly cut goatee. He rubbed his eyes, and did his best to make himself look presentable. His Gucci attire, custom tailored to his unique shape, already made him look like a million bucks.

Malcolm, since had received the job, took every opportunity he had to avail himself of the finest suits he could acquire, always liking to look his best. Of course he had his casual clothes, but rarely did he bring them on travel. They stayed at his new home, in Thailand. He hadn’t bothered to fix his tie yet, opting to do that after answering the door.

Malcolm inhaled a deep breath as he placed his hand on the knob, one last attempt to revitalize his body, giving himself a second wind. He smiled, not bothering to peer through the peep hole. He trusted Madeline’s judgment, wanting to see the entire package at once, rather than just her face, even though she was standing back from the door already. He opened the door and was treated to some delicious eye candy. There, before him, stood a striking model of exquisite proportions, all stacked in the right place, and drop dead gorgeous, to boot. She was striking an alluring pose, giving me ample opportunity to examine her fully. Her long brunette hair, hung fully down behind her back, nearly down to her slim waist, and well rounded hips. She was tall, like him, which he adored; her long, slender, sheer covered legs, making her seem ten times taller. He continued downward to the stilettos, sunken within the soft carpeting that ran throughout the floor of this hotel.

“Mmmm, perfect,” he hummed under his breath, barely audible to even himself, though his mind was screaming with the possibilities. His eyes meandered back up her body till they settled upon her long lashes and her lovely big brown eyes.

“Hi, my name is Topaz, and the agency sent me?”

She extended her hand in a very ladylike fashion, an air of confidence surrounding her. Malcolm chuckled, knowing that her confidence, if all went well, would be shattered, leaving her to be nothing but putty in his hands. He took her hand firmly within his own and shook it pleasantly, lightly tugging her into his suite, an invitation to enter. “Nice to meet you, please come in.”

He closed the door behind her, wondering what she carried in the oversized decorator bag slung over her shoulder. He admired the way the clingy dress hugged the curves of her backside, giving him a generous view of the smooth rounded features of her ass. He didn’t see any panty lines; that’s for sure!

He moved past her, cradling her waist, escorting her into the spacious living room area of the suite, moving her in a gentle way towards the sofa. “Come on in. Have a seat. Make yourself comfortable.”

As she continued on, taking his lead, she moved towards the sofa to take a seat as instructed. Meanwhile, Malcolm glided over to the bar to make himself a refresher. “Can I offer you a drink? Maybe a vodka martini?” He looked to her for her response, already beginning to make two of them, almost daring her to refuse.

She accepted his offer as he brought it to her, their hands touching as she pulled the crystal martini glass from his hand. “Cheers,” he said as they each tilted their glasses to each other before sipping.

Malcolm eyed her over carefully, painting images of what she would look like naked, and how much she would be appreciated in Thailand as his special guest. “Give me a few seconds to get ready. I figured we’d get some dinner to get better acquainted.”

He excused himself politely and then disappeared to fix his tie and splash some fragrant cologne on, which touted to arouse the desires within women. He didn’t need it, but it was a fragrance that he truly admired, a unique blend of spices from Thailand, that seemed to work magical wonders on women anyways.

As he looked in the mirror, Malcolm studied his features closely. Despite his age, he remained young, no one ever believing he was as old as he was. Though now, the lines were beginning to show. The fine crinkles were deepening. He was getting older, but he was like a fine wine, improving with age. As he stared into the mirror, the image changed. He was imagining once again, Topaz, his new acquaintance, being flown back to Thailand with him. He could already envision her there. She would love it. She would never want to leave!

Malcolm snapped out of his self-induced trance and exited to find Topaz, sitting politely, ready and waiting. “C’mon, let’s go,” he offered, holding out his elbow in an invitation for her to grasp it.

I stood there anxiously, my hand resting on the bag slung over my shoulder, staring at the door; wondering who was behind it. I heard some stirring and a deep voice call out “Be right there.” The stirring grew louder and I fell into a pose that Maddie had taught me, one that emphasized my body and made me look confident. I wanted him to be impressed.

He seemed to be. And the feeling was, surprisingly, mutual. He was a solid man, a handsome man, and he knew how to dress. Very nice. I admired the Gucci suit that was impeccably tailored. I was something of a fashion whore and I appreciated beautiful clothes. I smiled, a warm genuine smile, with a hint of invitation in it. I was extremely flattered by the attention as I felt his eyes scan my body, somewhat blatantly. His eyes finally returned to meet mine.

“Hi, my name is Topaz, and the agency sent me?” I extended my hand politely. One could tell so much about a person by their handshake. I knew his would be commanding. I was not mistaken. His large hand enveloped mine and seemed to pull me in to his suite, subtly but unmistakably.

“Nice to meet you, please come in.” I smiled again and stepped inside. He brushed past me a bit as he shut the door behind me. His next move was a little bolder. I felt his hands on my waist as he led me into the suite. Those large hands…my face flushed with the possibilities and I was deeply grateful he was behind me and couldn’t see the effect he was having on me. “Come on in. Have a seat. Make yourself comfortable.”

I lowered myself onto the sofa, enjoying its luxurious firmness. I peeked down to see tiny goose bumps dot my arms. “Can I offer you a drink? Maybe a vodka martini?” I opened my mouth to answer when I noticed he had already started the preparations for two vodka martinis with practiced ease. I doubted that he was making two for himself. He was a bold one. His eyes met mine, almost daring me to decline his offer. There was an amusement in them and I found myself strangely intrigued by his manner.

“Yes, thank you,” I replied as I watched him finish and return to me on the sofa. He held out his hand to me, offering the martini. My hand brushed his as I took the sparkling glass from him. “Thank you.”

“Cheers,” he toasted as we clinked our glasses together, to the evening’s festivities, whatever they would end up being. There was a bit of silence then as we sipped quietly from our glasses. He set his down and stood up. “Give me a few seconds to get ready. I figured we’d get some dinner to get better acquainted.” He hurried into one of the side rooms. I took a minute to do likewise, digging through my clutch for the tiny mirror. I examined my face, my hair, the back of my stockings to make sure I didn’t have any runs in them. Satisfied, I put the mirror away.

I looked around a bit, I couldn’t be too obvious but I was certainly intrigued by him. Surely he would share parts of his life with me, they always did. But I wanted to know more. Now. Maddie had cautioned me about this. Snooping could get me fired. Snooping could get me dead. I couldn’t just stop following the advice that had served me so well thus far. I clasped my hands together tightly and looked straight ahead. I closed my eyes as I wondered about him. Snooping? No. Fantasizing? Daydreaming? Bien sur!

He didn’t take long to get ready and I heard his firm footsteps as he approached me. My experience told me that he had probably just fixed his tie and given himself a pep talk. Yet there was something also different about him and I couldn’t put my finger on it. I remained silent and quiet as he headed toward me, unsure of my next move. “Cmon, let’s go,” he offered. I lifted myself from the sofa and hooked my arm in his in one fluid motion. I felt myself warm at the feel of his solid body next to mine. I was sure he would be incredible in bed. A bit rough, even.

I moved my head toward his and finally detected his fragrance. He smelled…he smelled…hot. I felt the wetness between my legs and I knew that he was having more of an effect on me than I had originally anticipated. This was going to be a long dinner.

“You should have let me fix your tie for you,” I whispered playfully into his ear as we walked together in unison. “I’ve got lots of practice…”

Malcolm was amused by her polite offer to fix his tie. He chuckled somewhat audibly, but even more so to himself. If there was anything Malcolm considered himself an expert at, it was tying ties. There was the double tie knot, the small tie knot, the Atlantic, the diagonal, the English and Half English knots, the Italian and Turkish knots, the simple tie knot, the Oriental and Persian knots, the Onassis knot, the Windsor and Half Windsor, the four-in-hand knot, the Plattsburgh, the St. Andrew, the Pratt, and the shirt knot. Of course there was also the traditional bow tie knot for when he dressed in formal tuxedo attire. Yes! Malcolm knew his knots!

As they walked towards the elevator, Malcolm wondered if she had really known how her little, innocent comment piqued his senses. His proclivity for tying ties went well beyond the normal individual, and Topaz would most likely become very aware of that in the near future. He shrugged his shoulders as he pressed the button, summoning the lift to their floor.

He escorted his date into the empty, mirror paneled cubicle and pressed the lobby button. It took a while for the slow elevator to descend the thirteen flights. “We are actually having dinner with a business client of mine, along with his wife. I hope you don’t mind. I don’t expect to do any solid business, but if the topic arises, I would appreciate it if you could keep his wife company, maybe go with her to the powder room, or the like?”

Topaz nodded, just like any true professional would. He made it quite apparent that he wanted her to act like a refined lady while in the presence of the others. They then stepped onto the bustling floor of the lobby when the doors opened. He escorted her past the seeming throng of gamblers and other hotel guests, to the front doors. The evening was cool and crisp, yet no coats were necessary, for there was a waiting limousine parked and waiting for them.

The chauffer smiled knowingly, seeing Malcolm appear, nodding, he turned and opened the door, offering Topaz his hand, helping her lower herself into the spacious interior. Malcolm waited patiently for her to enter and scoot over, making room for him to enter. He crawled in and sat next to Topaz, letting Armand, the chauffer close the door. Malcolm studied the rich leather interior, noting the clean fresh smell of new leather that seemed to permeate the comfortable cabin. All the amenities were in place; a fully stocked bar, sparkling crystal, and a television with DVD player. When Armand climbed in, he turned his head slightly and asked, “Where to Mr. Hanscomb?”

“Bartolotta Ristorante di Mare,” Malcolm proclaimed in fluent, near perfect Italian. “I hope you like Italian,” he added turning to Topaz.

“Excellent choice,” Armand piped in, turning in his seat. He called out over his shoulder as he started to pull away. "Your martini is already mixed, as you like, in the mixer, Mr. Hanscomb.”

Malcolm spotted the mixer, popped open the top to sniff at the concoction. He closed the lid, shook the contents and grabbed two glasses from the nearby shelf. He handed them both to Topaz and filled them before returning the nearly empty bottle to the bar.

He shifted in his seat a bit, giving Topaz more of his direct attention. “So tell me a little bit about yourself. Where are you from, and where do you get your beauty from?” It may have been a bit forward, but he didn’t care. Besides, he needed to know a little bit about her, to keep dinner conversation alive.

He listened with intense interest in every word she spoke, detailing her life in a shortened digest fashion. He wanted to know as much about her as he could. Of course there were other reasons, but those would surface later. Just as she was finishing her little, but revealing biography, the car slowed to a stop in front of the elegant restaurant.

As they exited the car, with Armand’s help, they found themselves standing in front of the grand entrance, framed by a pair of enormous terra cotta urns that had to be hundreds of years old, reportedly used to store olive oil in the times of Dante. Entering the spacious interior, Malcolm escorted Topaz down the spiral staircase to the ornately decorated lower level. Once there it was easy to spot the tables overlooking the bucolic lake dotted with brightly shining, reflective silver globes. There, they were met by the maitre’d, who also nodded knowingly upon seeing Malcolm. The maitre’d escorted the pair out, onto the lake’s perimeter, to one of the secluded cabana tables. “Your guests have not arrived yet, sir,” the impeccably dressed host informed. “May I suggest our imported, house favorite, wine while you wait?”

Malcolm smiled at his thick Italian accent, “Yes, that would be perfect, thank you.” After he had left, Malcolm returned his attention once more to Topaz, “Please continue … tell me more.”

He seemed amused by my comment which was always a good thing.

He escorted me into the elevator and finally gave me an idea of what the evening had in store for us. “We are actually having dinner with a business client of mine, along with his wife. I hope you don’t mind. I don’t expect to do any solid business, but if the topic arises, I would appreciate it if you could keep his wife company, maybe go with her to the powder room, or the like?”

I nodded. Of course. The women were sometimes a crap shoot. Some of them were delightful and, unfortunately, some of them were the mirror opposite. Still, I made an effort to get along with all of them. It was part of my job. The elevator slowed and the doors opened and he led me through the lobby and then outside. I was secretly tickled to see a waiting limousine. I had ridden in plenty of them but it never got old and was always thrilling. His chauffer was one I hadn’t seen before and I was pleasantly surprised by his manners. I purred quietly as my legs passed over the leather as I moved over to allow him entrance.

If it would have been up to me we wouldn’t have needed to leave the limousine for the evening. Between the luxury of my client and the cabin I would have been quite content to stay here. But Malcolm had other plans. “Bartolotta Ristorante di Mare.” “I hope you like Italian.” He smiled at me and I smiled easily back.

“Excellent choice,” the chauffeur chimed in. “Your martini is already mixed, as you like, in the mixer, Mr. Hanscomb.” I was impressed. Malcolm handed me two glittering glasses as he carefully filled them. When he finally set the empty bottle on the bar I handed him his glass, my fingers making deliberate contact with his. There certainly were sparks. Finally settled, he shifted and began speaking to me.

“So tell me a little bit about yourself. Where are you from, and where do you get your beauty from?”

I smiled and felt my face blush a bit. “It’s all genetics, I’m afraid. My mother was an extremely beautiful woman.” I took a sip from the glass. “Both inside and out.” He was probably trying to figure out why or how I got started in this line of work. But he wasn’t going to get that out of me that easily. “I’m from a small town in Michigan. I got a full ride to a nice university and from there I realized I could never go back to small town life.” I paused. “Don’t get me wrong, I’m not a snob…but different people thrive in different environments and that is how I ended up here.” I looked down for a minute. “Also, both my parents were killed in a car accident two years ago. I had to go home and take care of things…it’s all settled now but I don’t want to go back.”

I looked over at Malcolm, genuinely touched by his behavior. He appeared to be listening. He was either a good man or good at faking it. We would see. “I work so I can do the things I love to do…” I stopped as the limousine pulled up to the restaurant.

I was not a small town girl anymore but some places just awed me. This was one of them. I tried to hard to minimize my awestruck appearance and walked with Malcolm down the stairs to the lower level. I had visited this restaurant before to be sure, but I didn’t remember seeing this area. My eyes were wide as the maitre’d led us to a secluded table along the lake. The area was lit with silver globes like brilliant stars. I put aside my awestruck behavior. I had had plenty of practice doing that. I turned my attention to Malcolm. There was something about the way he walked, the way he commanded the attention and respect of all of those people who he met up. Of course the restaurant staff always bends over backwards to cater to a wealthy guest but this was different. I just couldn’t quite put my finger on it.

“Your guests have not arrived yet, sir,” the impeccably dressed host informed. “May I suggest our imported, house favorite, wine while you wait?”

“Yes, that would be perfect, thank you.” The maitre’d hurried away leaving us alone for the time being. He smiled at me. “Please continue…tell me more.”

I smiled. “Oh, I don’t know…only child syndrome, as I said earlier my parents were killed in a car accident so I don’t have much family. I do have some excellent friends. Maddie at the agency, we’re very close, she’s kind of that older sister/second mother combination you find in some women. I collect books. And clothing.” I smiled coyly. “Is there anything else you want to know? And what about you, Mr. Hanscomb? What are you up to in our fine city?”

Malcolm listened intently as Topaz continued on giving him, her brief history in digest format. He had found out what he really wanted to know about her. She was like most of the girls in her profession; small town girls who made their way to the big city, infatuated with the luxuries and lifestyles that good money afforded them. Those that grew up in these cities usually ran in the opposite direction. The fact that both of her parents were deceased, and she had no immediately family, had definitely perked his interest. He wanted to know more, and noticed that despite her telling history, she still remain guarded as to what she divulged.

There was the business woman, and then there was the personal woman; the woman that went home and became herself, away from the johns, away from the hustle and bustle, away from everything. That’s the woman Malcolm really wanted to know about. If he had any plans for Topaz, he needed her to open up even more. He didn’t expect to get her real name right away, but he might get her to slip up and give him that much needed tidbit of information.

Their conversation was interrupted by the appearance of their waiter, another, young dashing young man. His brushed silver nameplate read, “Antony.” Malcolm noticed the absence of the “h” in the name, and made sure to remember it for the rest of the evening. Antony was holding a dark bottle, tilting it back so that Malcolm could read the label. “Wine, sir?” Malcolm nodded, watching him reach into his pocket to retrieve a corkscrew. Malcolm knew it would be a good wine, for the better ones always were corked. The “pop” ensued as the cork broke free of the neck of the bottle. He poured the deep red, almost burgundy, liquid contained within, into his glass, waiting for him to approve.

Malcolm sipped the fruity, rich, flavorful and potent combination, nodding his head affirmatively as his tongue tasted it again, running over his lips. Malcolm always thought about the education he received on wine tasting, and traditions when offered the first glass from the bottle. He had learned that the man is always offered the first glass, because that is the glass that would get the initial cork sediments from the freshly popped cork. He watched Antony fill his glass, and then Topaz’s, placing the open bottle on the table.

“Would you like to order an appetizer before your guests arrive, or would you prefer to wait for them?”

Malcolm hadn’t even looked at the menu, but knew it well from his frequent visits to the area. “I think we will,” Malcolm affirmed. “We’ll each share an order of Cacio Alla Brace con Prosciutto, and along with that, an order of Fritto diCalamari e Prezzemolo should do just fine.” Malcolm had a definite affinity for fine prosciutto, and with the black truffle cheese, it was simply a must have. He had ordered the fried calamari more so for Topaz, knowing that his guests would also like that.

After Antony took the order, he nodded and left. Malcolm picked up the conversation from where they had left off. “Me? Oh I’m a world traveler. I deal in imports and exports for international commodities.” He could be just as informative, and as vague as she was. There was no need for excruciating detail about his daily business itinerary. “I’m here on my last night, before heading back to Thailand. I just sealed a lucrative contract with the guy we’re meeting with. This is really just a social thing, so business shouldn’t come up. If it does though, like I said earlier, it would be greatly appreciated, if you could find a reason to excuse yourself, it would be greatly appreciated.”

Malcolm could see the sparkle in her eyes, when he opened up the proverbial, Pandora’s Box. “World traveler” and “Thailand,” were keywords that always seemed to ignite curiosity and conversation from his female “dates.” Topaz was no different than the others. Her body had apparently perked up, eyes widened, though Malcolm could tell she tried to hide it behind her sophisticated, elegant exterior.

He sipped at the wine, returning to his brief biography, hoping to get her to open up some more. “I, too, am single, without family to speak of. Jetting around the world makes it difficult to keep in touch with my extended family. I speak to them on occasion, like holidays, and such.” He returned to his glass, watching intently as Topaz kissed her glass of wine, the blood red liquid flowing between her lips, coloring them as she sipped.

Not that he needed the alcohol to loosen her up; Malcolm relied upon it, to speed them along to that comfort level. He wanted to know more than she was telling him about her personal life. “So you have a lot of friends? Are all your friends…” He paused, searching for the right words. “… um … in the business?” He continued on with more personal types of questions. “Do you keep in contact with them often? … Where do you go when you go out for a good time? … Who do you call during the holidays? … Is there anyone you’re close to?”

Malcolm hoped she’d open up, find his sincerity appealing. He already knew she found him attractive by the way she looked at him. He had that certain air of confidence about him that seemed to be a magnet for women. Malcolm had taken the opportunity to perfect that part of his demeanor, which also helped him in the business field as well. He kept his eyes trained on hers, only wavering low enough to watch her lips move when she spoke, or to gaze when she sipped from her glass of wine.

They both knew what she was there for, yet he never lowered his eyes knowingly to glance upon her sizable breasts. If he was going to connect with her, he needed her to know, he was sincerely trying to know her better. He hung on her words, on her replies to his gentle probing questions, making mental notes for him to catalog and retrieve later. This was information he needed to obtain. He had a plan, and it was already in motion!

Antony appeared with the two appetizers and four plates. He set everything on the table, ensuring everything was okay. “Your guests have not arrived yet? Is there anything else I can get for you?”

Malcolm assured everything was fine, and Antony disappeared, leaving the two alone once more.

My eyes sparkled as they met his, I was humored by the attention he gave me; I found that my favorite clients were the ones who made as much of an effort to get to know me as I made to know them. He had opened his mouth to answer my question when a handsome waiter approached our table. I smiled pleasantly in his direction and noted the dark bottle he held out proudly to my companion. I spent a great deal of time with powerful men, wealthy men; Malcolm was both of these yet he was something more. I couldn’t identify it. Yet it was present and insistent and demanded my attention.

I watched as the waiter removed the cork from the bottle and offered the glass to Malcolm. I watched the way the he tasted the wine, obviously enjoying its flavor as a flicker of pleasure crossed his face. I watched the dark liquid fill his glass and then mine. Maddie had offered me a bit of a primer on wines and I was pleased that Malcolm’s actions were reinforcing my education. I sipped the wine, its fullness awakening my palate and warming my body.

Antony spoke. “Would you like to order an appetizer before your guests arrive or would you prefer to wait for them?”

My eyes moved from the waiter to Malcolm. He paused thoughtfully before answering. “I think we will.” “We’ll each share an order of Cacio All Brace con Prosciutto and along with that an order of Fritto diCalamari e Prezzemolo should do just fine.” I admired the way his voice sounded as he ordered. His Italian reminded me of the opera, one of my greatest passions. I hadn’t paid much attention to exactly what he ordered, but how he ordered it.

As I lifted my glass and sipped at the wine I thought briefly of Malcolm’s behavior. It wasn’t that it bothered me. I’ll admit my knowledge of fine food and wine was lacking and that I would always welcome some guidance in choosing what to order. An old client had said it was part of my charm; my unique blend of naivety with sophistication. But Malcolm had not suggested. He had simply ordered for me. His actions intrigued me. I sat up a little straighter as Antony left our table and waited for Malcolm to answer the questions I had posed to him earlier.

“Me? Oh, I’m a world traveler. I deal in imports and exports for international commodities.” I listened intently; taking notes of his body language and words. “I’m here on my last night, before heading back to Thailand.” I sat up straighter as I heard him speak of Thailand. I had done only a bit of traveling and I was intrigued by his words and knowledge of other lands. “I just sealed a lucrative contract with the guy we’re meeting with. This is really just a social thing, so business shouldn’t come up. If it does though, like I said earlier, it would greatly appreciated if you could find a reason to excuse yourself.”

I nodded. That had been one of my first lessons from Maddie. She called them the rules. He continued. “I, too, am single; without familiy to speak of. Jetting around the world makes it difficult to keep in touch with my extended family. I speak to them on occasion, like holidays, and such.” Jetting around the world. I could only imagine such a life. I was quite happy with my own yet there was always the strong allure of things I had never seen or done yet. I sipped at the wine, feeling it warm me, feeling my body awaken. I subtly licked at the little bit that dripped onto my lower lip, hoping he had not noticed my faux pas.

Malcolm didn’t seem to. He looked comfortable and friendly and open in spite of all the other things he exuded. “So you have a lot of friends? Are all your friends…” he paused and I could see his mind search for a proper euphemism for my line of work. “…in the business?” “Do you keep in contact with them often? Where do you go when you go out for a good time? Who do you call during the holidays? Is there anyone you’re close to?”

I chuckled. “I’m not sure I caught all of that.” I smiled widely, genuinely, easily. “Well…I don’t have a huge crowd of friends, but the ones I have are very much like family to me. Maddie is the only one I have in the business. I’ve just not found the other girls from the agency to have much in common with me.” I paused to sip at the little wine remaining in my glass. “Unfortunately many of them don’t live around here. I’m very thankful for emails and unlimited long distance. We speak at least once every two weeks, typically more except when our work schedules don’t mesh well.” I smile. “Let’s see, what other questions were in this interrogation?”

My eyes twinkle. “Where do I go when I go out for a good time? That’s easy. There is this unique little place, it’s hard to describe…kind of half café half club…they have artists there sometimes but mostly we just go for the conversation, the people we meet, Maddie and me.” My voice grows more animated and I catch Malcolm’s eyes to gauge his interest and his sincerity. “They even have our table named for us, The MAG table…for Maddie and Ginger.” I stop myself. Hearing my name brings my chattering to a standstill and forces me back to reality. He is a client and he is paying me not to like him but to keep him company. I look up to see Malcolm’s amused eyes on me.

I lower my eyes briefly. “I’m sorry.” I push the glass away from me with the tips of my fingers. “Sometimes I get a bit silly when I drink too fast on an empty stomach.” I am grateful to see Antony returning with our appetizers. I watch as the waiter places them on the table and addresses Malcolm. I take a moment to pull myself together, to chastise myself for revealing too much of myself to a client I barely knew.

“Your guests have not arrived yet? Is there anything else I can get for you?”

I did not look at Malcolm but heard him murmur that everything was fine. Antony hurried away and I lifted my eyes to look at Malcolm. I opened my mouth to again apologize when I noticed another waiter hurrying toward the table. This waiter is older and appears more seasoned. I pause as he approaches Malcolm.

“Sir, I am so sorry to interrupt you. Your guest, a Mr. O’Connor, has just telephoned to say that he regrets he cannot join you tonight as an important family matter demands his attention.”

It will be just us. It will certainly be an interesting evening. I knew what would happen later. I was powerless to prevent it. And I felt strangely aroused at how, in the brief time I knew him, Malcolm was able to cause such a powerlessness in me.

“Ginger!” That was a tidbit of information that he was desperately seeking! Malcolm was overjoyed to see that the wine primer had elicited that and the other information he needed to glean from his newfound acquaintance. Her social life outside of business seemed to be rather non-existent. The more Malcolm listened to her, and the more time he spent examining her, the more determined he was to “have” her. He knew he’d have her tonight! But his mind was already working well beyond this comfortable evening. Malcolm was enjoying his visions of many future nights with this lovely companion.

When she made the little personal revelation of her name, and pushed her nearly empty glass away, Malcolm stopped her. His hand blocked it from moving any further, lightly grazing her hand as he gripped the glass to keep it nearby. He listened to her apologetic song and dance, dismissing it lightheartedly. “It’s okay! We’re all human! I won’t tell if you don’t!” He chuckled softly, reaching for the wine bottle to refill their glasses.

When Malcolm was informed that his guests would not be arriving, he was actually a bit relieved. It all played well into his plans anyway. Malcolm nodded and dismissed the staff member that informed him, saying that it was okay, and that they would still be staying for dinner. He watched as Topaz … Ginger … delicately picked at her calamari, while he dove in with delectable delight into his appealing appetizer. The silence was a bit welcomed as they continued to eat, each stealing glances at one another in between bites. Malcolm also took the opportunity to slide closer to his date for the evening, enjoying the lingering sweet aroma that emanated from her body. From where they sat, they could look out onto the little lake and the globes, hidden from view by their little cabana.

Antony stopped back to check on them, and to see if they were ready to order. Malcolm handed the waiter the two menus, never glancing upon them. “I’ll have the Lasagnette DiPasta Fresca Con Porcini,” he said rather convincingly. “And for the lady,” he glanced in her direction and then back to Antony, “She’ll have the Spaghetti Con L’Aragosta.” Malcolm held Antony up just a bit longer, “And I think we’ll be ready for another bottle of wine with our dinner!”

When Antony left, Malcolm turned to his companion, and finally ensured his order for her was satisfactory. “I hope spaghetti and lobster tail are to your liking!” He knew, whether she like it or not, she would be graceful and say that it was. That’s what she was being paid to do. Malcolm knew she was bred … um, trained … well! Malcolm always took control in situations where he felt others might feel uncomfortable. It was his nature, so given the foreign nature of the menu, he merely assumed that his date was not fluent in Italian, nor did he want to be embarrassed at any feeble attempts to speak it. It was better if he just kept to his routine and ordered for her.

The appetizers were delicious and devoured by both, Malcolm, offering Topaz a smidgen off his plate, while he helped her finish her calamari. They pushed the plates forward, waiting for Antony to return. In the meantime, Malcolm returned to his glass of wine, encouraging her to do the same. When she relented, he smiled and tilted his glass in a silent toast. As he sipped from the glass, he slipped his nearby hand under the table and rested it on the naked knee, nearest to him.

“If you think the appetizer was good, wait till the main dish comes out!” Malcolm was at home! This was his natural environment, and it was his time to have some fun. With practiced ease, he slid his hand up and down along her offered thigh, silently but successfully encouraging her to part her legs wider. He made no facial indications that he was doing anything out of the ordinary, but in the privacy of their little alcove, it was evident that he had definite intentions of moving things along. Every time he rubbed his hand along her thigh, he pulled her dress higher and higher up on her leg. Her silence and lack of rebuff was an open invitation for him to continue. Malcolm held her gaze within his eyes, seeing her soul, her inner fire, and her crumbling walls of resistance. He continued to offer small talk, merely as a diversion to the busy wait staff that crisscrossed in front of their cabana. The long draping tablecloth hid everything from view anyways!

“I think tonight will be a wonderful night; one we’ll not forget!” His words definitely had a sultry sound now; his hand sliding inside her thigh now, rubbing along the inner leg, pulling her leg even closer, until finally it was resting comfortably against his own leg.

Malcolm’s playful advances were cut short when Antony had arrived to clear the table, making room for the upcoming main course dishes. Malcolm could hear the interrupted sigh leave his escort’s lungs, although Antony was unaware. Malcolm chuckled inwardly, straightening up, preparing himself for the plate of lasagna that Antonio was placing before him. He waited patiently as Antony put the spaghetti in front of Topaz, and then renewed the bottle of wine.

When Antony had left, Malcolm turned, smiled and said, “Dig in … Munge!”

I was glad to see the appetizers arrive. There would be a bit of silence. We couldn't talk so much while eating and I needed that time to figure out how I was going to recover from my faux pas. Revealing my name was something I never did. My name was something I needed to protect. It was the part of me that was separate from my work; the part of me that only my friends could see. He had tried to minimize the impact of my comment but it was no consolation. After all, it wasn't to his disadvantage that he knew my name. I was the one at a disadvantage and he couldn't assure me it was ok. It wasn't.

It was sweet of him to try, though. As I tried to push the glass away his hand blocked me from pushing it as far away as I would have liked. Ever attentive, he refilled my glass and did not comment any further on my name or its revelation. I now knew it would just be him and I tonight. As comforting as it was that I did not have others to please I knew that Malcolm would demand much of me. I could just sense it.

The calamari was delicious and I had to keep myself from eating too much. We hadn’t even ordered our entrees yet, let alone dessert. I envied his ability to dig in and enjoy the food in front of him. Sometimes men had it so easy. We peeked up at each other a few times, our eyes meeting briefly. I couldn’t recall an engagement of mine that was so charged with sexual tension. It wasn’t that Malcolm was the most handsome or the smartest but there was some kind of aura of power that hung around his person. It was almost magnetic, drawing me closer.

He was closer. He had subtly moved toward me. I didn’t notice it at first but eventually I was aware that the distance between us was growing more minute. The waiter approached our table to check on us and I was thankful for the little reprieve to try to collect myself. It was briefer than I would have liked it to be.

“I’ll have the Lasgnette DiPasta Fresca Con Porcini. And for the lady,” his eyes moved toward me before continuing. “She’ll have the Spaghetti Con L’Aragosta.” I had no idea what he had just ordered for me. “And I think we’ll be read for another bottle of wine with our dinner.”

I was silent as the waiter hurried away, my eyes looking upon my fingers and red nails. Malcolm turned to face me. “I hope spaghetti and lobster tail are to your liking!” I was grateful that I did like what he had selected for me and that I would not have to lie to please him. I picked a bit more at my appetizer as Malcolm offered me some of his, bringing his fork to my lips. I smiled, my eyes meeting his as I tasted his offering. He returned my smile as he took his fork back. I took a small amount of calamari from my plate and offered it to him the same way. I giggled quietly as he took it as I had. Removing my fork from his mouth I nudged my plate toward him, encouraging him to finish it. It didn’t take him long.

I gazed out on the peaceful lights and lake as he ate. I noticed him push his plate away and pick up his glass of wine. His eyes met mine, urging me to join him. At first I shook my head but I couldn’t help but think that one little sip wouldn’t hurt. He smiled as my fingers cupped the glass and tilted his glass toward me. I tilted my glass toward him and took a tiny sip. And then I felt it.

He had placed his hand on my knee. It was a subtle gesture but I felt it there; warm and insistent. He kept it still briefly and began to speak to me as if nothing were out of the ordinary. “If you think the appetizer was good, wait till the main dish comes out!" I could not tell if he intended his words as a double entendre but nonetheless I couldn’t help but likening the appetizers to foreplay. Maybe it was just my dirty mind.

His hand began to move now, each caress pushing his hand a bit higher up my thigh, coming dangerously close to my sex. His touch was gentle and soothing and I moved my legs farther apart, allowing him access to more of my thigh. His hands were warm and I felt myself grow warm as well, and moist with desire. I tried to stay still, to maintain my composure. Had we been private I may have even helped things along a bit and been vocal. Yet I needed to remain stoic; I couldn’t let anyone know what was going on underneath the tablecloth.

My eyes met Malcolm’s and he held them as his hand moved on my thigh. I envied his ability to contain the desire in my eyes. I knew I could not. And he knew as well. It was all probably part of the game. He spoke to me, something mundane and unimportant. I nodded and made some equally unnecessary comment back to him as he continued to torment me. His next words would foreshadow the rest of the evening’s events. “I think tonight will be a wonderful night; one we’ll not forget!” I could hear the more primal tone in his voice that told me it was becoming more difficult for him to keep himself in check. He pulled me closer to him, his hand grazing the warm flesh of my inner thigh. He was so close. He must know, he must feel it; my desire for him would be most obvious. I was clearly exposed and vulnerable.

Malcolm’s hand stopped its stroking as Antony approached, brining our entrees. A blended sigh of frustration and relief escaped my lungs. I don’t think Antony noticed as he busied himself placing the main course in front of us but I was quite sure that Malcolm had heard me and knew exactly why I was sighing. As soon as he had placed the new bottle of wine at our table Antony hurried away, leaving the two of us.

Malcolm looked at me, clearly excited about his dinner. “Dig in…Munge!”

I did. The spaghetti and lobster were delicious. I ate more than I intended to and thought of the extra time I would need to spend at the gym to remedy my gluttonous acts. The devilish thought that perhaps Malcolm could help me reverse the effects on my dinner made my body shiver. He didn’t notice my brief reaction to the thought in my head but very soon I was sure that I would be shuddering and shivering from other forms of stimulation.