Get Away (Closed for LitWriter2013)

[Sandi117]

Samantha was walking on the side of the road for what seemed like hours. It was hot, the sun was beating down on her...

However, hitchhiking along the desert highway in the heat was worth it. She was finally away from home, free from her shackles and bonds. The stress of always having to have the best grades, the stress of being overworked and underpaid at her job, the stress of having to be the perfect child for fear of being reprimanded... She was 20 for Christ’s sake! It was time to live her life for her, no one else, and wanted to think for herself. Some would probably think she was acting spoiled, but they didn't know the emotional abuse she constantly went through.

The five-foot-ten young woman wasn’t sure where she was, probably somewhere in the Mojave Desert just south of Las Vegas, and she wasn’t totally sure where she was going either. The last car that had passed by was a while ago, the clock on her dying iTouch showed that it had been about 15 minutes. The dirt crunched under her green Converse. She’d chugged the last of her water before the last car... “C’mon, I just need a ride to the next gas station or rest stop,” she said to herself. She set the somewhat large duffle bag she had been carrying down and sat on it, her legs were tired. She would have gotten a bus ticket for whatever bus was leaving LA first, but she didn’t want credit card transactions to be tracked. Her mom always seemed to have a way of finding her. Though she still had the plastic card with her in case.

With summer approaching, her skin had been turning slightly golden, though now under the sun it was turning pink. She ran a hand through her long red hair, watching the horizon with her blue-green eyes through her sunglasses, finally seeing a small shine way out there that indicated that a car was approaching. She stood, brushed herself off, and stuck her thumb out. She hoped that maybe with the fact that she still looked (and was) young, that whoever it was would take "pity" on her and give her a ride in their air conditioned vehicle. Or maybe some guy would fall in love with her long legs or the ample amount of cleavage that showed with her black tank top.

 

[LitWriter2013]

Trent Taylor slowed the 2014 Jaguar at the first signs of the pedestrian on the shoulder in the distance. Even with the heat rising off the desert pavement, it didn't take long for him to know the hitch hiker was a woman ... a very long legged woman. He slowed from the 85 mph he'd been doing, but couldn't come to a stop safely before passing her up; the car finally came to a complete halt over a hundred yards beyond her.

And despite the speed he'd been doing, Trent was able to get enough of a glance at her to know that she was beautiful. He shifted into reverse -- rather than turning the car around -- and backed the import quickly backwards, driving to the rear almost as good as most people do to forward.

When he was almost to her, he pressed the down button for the windows on both sides. The rush of heat into the windows was almost unbearable, made worse by the wonderful air conditioning he'd been enjoying since Denver. He shifted into neutral, turned off the key, and allowed the sharp looking vehicle to roll to a stop next to her in silence.

At first, she couldn't see his face; the roof of the car was in the way. He could see her body, though, and she was fantastic. She leaned down and he leaned over, and when they made eye contact, he smiled and asked politely and unnecessarily, "Need a lift?"

(OOC: Sorry. Kinda short. I can't keep my eyes open.)

 

[Sandi117]

When she realized the vehicle approaching was a Jaguar, she almost just sat down. Most people driving luxury cars just sped right past her without even slowing down. But the silver car did slow down. As he backed the import up, she hefted her duffle bag up on her shoulder.

Though she knew he'd just gotten blasted with the hot outside air, she enjoyed the cool air she could feel coming through the window. Adjusting the bag hanging from her sunburnt shoulder, Sam lifted the sunglasses from her eyes and gave him a smile in return. "I would love a ride, if you don't mind."

Without wasting her time or his, she opened the rear passenger door and set her bag down on the back seat. She was careful to not just toss it down, to at least respect the driver's property since he was being so kind to give her a lift for however far he decided to take her. She settled into the front passenger seat, bringing the seatbelt around her body and clipping it.

"Thank you." She held her hand out to him to shake. "I'm Sam."

 

[LitWriter2013]

"Thank you." She held her hand out to him to shake. "I'm Sam."

Trent hesitated, looking down to the offered hand. It was the desert and there were likely few cars to choose from for rides, but it still surprised him that this beautiful woman was so quick to introduce herself and offer out her hand. In the past, his female riders had typically just said hello and sat as close to the door -- to the exit -- as they could, as if any moment they might want or need to bail.

He shifted the car into gear, took her hand, looked to his mirror, and shot the car forward, leaving a cloud of reddish brown, desert dust in the air behind them. He released her hand, shifted to second, then -- even as he was casting his eyes back to her long, lean legs reaching out from below her thigh length skirt -- shifted to third and continued to rapidly accelerate.

When he was shifting to fourth and nearing the 85 mph he been at when he first spotted her -- less than 15 seconds after having pulled out the clutch -- he looked back to her flawless, slightly pink face and said, "You can call me Trent."

He smiled to her, and for just a short moment glanced to the very impressive breasts barely contained within her tight, black tank top. Trent had always loved a beautiful pair of breasts, as so many men did. And he'd been called out for staring once or twice in his life for it, too.

His smiled widened as he recalled the last exchange he'd had with an unfamiliar woman over his ogling of her mam's. She'd explained with a sly smile, "They're just breasts! You have'em, too. The only difference is that yours won't buy you dinner if you show them off like mine will."

She'd been right -- and wrong. Her's had gotten dinner from Trent, followed by a weekend in Vegas, several intense orgasms, and then ... well, something she hadn't expected.

But he had received invitations to dinner after having showing off his "breasts" -- or more specifically, his entire torso. And those women -- already showing their horny hands -- had gotten that unexpected something even sooner.

There speed settled out just above eighty when he said, "I'm in a hurry. Hope you don't mind."

He checked the mirrors, then the straight as could be road ahead, then turned his attention back to Samantha. She was a stunning woman, and if they hadn't been traveling at such speed, he wouldn't have taken his eyes off her again for ... well, until he had seen all of her.

He saw her tremble, followed quickly by the entirety of her body suddenly breaking out in goose bumps to the intense chill of the air conditioning. He glanced again to her breasts: her nipples had swelled and looked as if they were desperate to break through the the thin cloth of her shirt.

"Feel free to adjust that." He gestured toward the A/C control. He wanted her comfortable. Comfortable women in the presence of his wit and charm were much easier to manipulate. And, where they were going, he was going to need an easy-to-direct, beautiful woman to replace the one who was supposed to have been sitting next to him this afternoon. "I'm heading to Vegas, then farther east. Where are you heading?"

 

[Sandi117]

She noticed his hesitation when she had offered her hand for him to shake. Realizing most hitch hikers probably weren't as friendly as she was being, she set her hand in her lap after he released it. Maybe that was something she needed to work on, being a bit more standoff-ish.

"I'm in a hurry. Hope you don't mind," he had said.

She gave him a smile. "No, I don't mind at all." She shivered from the cold air blowing through the vents in the dash. Going from the extreme outside to the cool interior of the car somewhat shocked her body. Goosebumps ran along her skin. She enjoyed the change in temperature, though.

And she was certainly enjoying the man next to her. He was quite handsome, and the smile that crossed his lips almost did her in. She could see he was in quite good shape. For a short moment, she almost wished the car had no air conditioning so he would be driving would no shirt on and she could really see his body... But then she shook the though from her head. The only thing she should want from him was the ride she was already getting and maybe he would buy her something to eat before they parted ways so she could save the cash she had on her.

"I'm headed to Vegas, then further east. Where are you headed?"

She shrugged. "No where, really. Just trying to find somewhere to make a fresh start," she admitted with a small sigh.

 

[LitWriter2013]

"No where, really," she answered. "Just trying to find somewhere to make a fresh start."

"A fresh start," he murmured. He considered his own situation and chuckled. "Wouldn't that be nice."

He looked her over again, not even trying to hide his ogling of her entire length. She had an unbelievable figure and a flawless, supermodel face. He wondered how it was that she hadn't used that erotic beauty to pin down some rich, upper class snob who needed a trophy wife to secure his station in society. Maybe she had. Maybe that was what she was running from.

Trent had little doubt that she was running from something. She didn't look like the typical, open road, free spirit hitch hiker. She was dressed nicely, and her bag looked new and a bit too large for an experienced "road warrior".

Ironically, that knowledge was very appealing to Trent. Beautiful, built, alone, and possibly on the run, to one degree or another: it was precisely what he needed in a "sidekick" for the day ahead.

"So ... explain something to me." He weaved through a sudden glut of cars like some good ol' boy at NASCAR. Clear again, he gave her another once over review and asked, "What the hell are you doing out here in the middle of no where? What's your story?"

Trent didn't know how much she would depart. But he'd learned that knowledge was power, so anything she was willing to tell him was one more thing he had to use. He listened to what she had to say with genuine interest, occasionally asking follow up questions or simply giving a "Really?" or a "Interesting" or other comment designed to urge more from her.

And anytime she asked a question about Trent himself, he was able to turn the questioning back to her. By the time they sailed past the first of the huge casino billboards, he knew her better and yet he was just as much of a stranger to her as when he got his first look at those long, luscious legs.

Trent let back on the accelerator, dropping the car down to the mid-60s and then lower as traffic got thicker. At the first red light, Trent gave Samantha yet another long ogle, then looked into those exotic, blue-green eyes.

"Listen. I have to go meet someone. Business partner. He would be, um..." He smiled and very conspicuously ogled her figure before looking back to those mesmerizing eyes. "...very impressed with me if I was to show up with a beautiful woman at my side."

The car behind them honked, alerting Trent to the green light. Without taking his eyes off Samantha, he pressed the auto-down button for his window, waited for it to descend all the way, and stuck his arm out the window, extending his middle finger.

"I have a room at Caesar's. We could clean up. Get a bite. Whaddaya say?"

Trent retracted his "response" to the impatient man, and headed down the street, raising the window again, waiting for her response.

 

[Sandi117]

"My story..." She smiled to herself, and gave a small laugh. The last person who asked and she told them most of her reasonings for basically running away from home, they told her she was being selfish and needed to get her priorities straight. "I just needed to get away. Too much stress at work, at school, at home. I am--was in a bad relationship that I never could get away from. I just wasn't living my life for me." She paused, wondering if she should tell him anything more than that. She couldn't get a read on him and the type of person he was. Would he be judgemental like the other person? Sam had a feeling, though, that perhaps he was just asking to ask and that he really didn't care what story she'd tell him. What the hell, at this point he was the most unbiased person she knew, even though he was a total stranger. "I finally just got tired of having to be the perfect person. Any faults or flaws I had seemed to be scrutinized. My mother would reprimand me for getting any grade less than an A, trying to ground me at age 20. It was like I was from an Asian family. At work, I was basically being a manager without the title. Anytime I'd ask for a promotion, my manager would say I wasn't 'ready for those responsibilities yet'. And then they'd go and promote the person who was hired only four months ago and showed no initiative for anything, over me when I was hired 2 years ago. And then there was Richard... Telling me what to do, what to wear, who I could and could not hang out with. I'd break up with him and he'd just keep coming back like an infection that antibiotics just couldn't get rid of. He'd try to blackmail me, physically intimidate me... He literally is a Dick." She exhaled heavily. "But, I've been told I'm just being spoiled and need to just suck it up, that was part of life. It just wasn't the life I felt I wanted and deserved."

She suddenly felt a lot lighter after venting to Trent, getting all that out of her system. But then suddenly felt a bit guilty. "Sorry, didn't mean to dump all that on you. I guess some of it is pretty petty, but I'm just trying to do what I think is right for me," she said, as if she needed to justify herself to him.

As the incredibly attractive man continued to drive them down the highway, she tried asking about who he was and his life. She noticed, however that he continuously turned the topics around to focus on her. 'I guess he's a pretty private person.' Samantha had noticed the way he kept looking at her. He didn't seem to be willing to tell her anything about himself, yet would look her up and down shamelessly.

Finally they'd reached Sin City. She stared out the window at the billboards and lights and the numerous casinos, bars, and strip clubs that lined the infamous Vegas Strip. She'd never been before, so all she knew of the city was what she saw in pictures her friends would post online.

"Listen. I have to go meet someone. Business partner. He would be, um... very impressed with me if I was to show up with a beautiful woman at my side." Again he looked her over without shame. "I have a room at Caesar's. We could clean up. Get a bite. Whaddaya say?"

Sam observed Trent for a moment. Was this handsome man serious? "Okay, I... guess... I don't think I have anything that would be appropriate to wear meeting a business partner, though."

She enjoyed the though of actually sleeping in a bed instead of taking small cat naps in a car or the dirty excuse for a hotel a few days earlier. And a good, long shower in private was a lovely though as well, compared to the one she had taken at said 'hotel' or the large truck stop the day before, which offered shower stalls in the women's restroom. However, how could she be sure he wasn't going to try to sell her into some sex trafficking ring? She still knew nothing about the man. "...What kind of business are you in?"

 

[LitWriter2013]

"What kind of business are you in?" Samantha asked, just as they shot around a busy corner and found themselves looking toward the distant Strip and the casino-hotels lining it.

He smirked a bit, before glancing back to her. He answered with a smile, "Personal Entertainment."

He looked back to the street, still driving faster than he should have despite being in the heart of Las Vegas, then glanced back to his traveling companion. He could see by her expression that his answer had been lacking.

Trent really couldn't tell Samantha what he truly did for a living. How do you tell a beautiful stranger you met less than an hour ago, an erotic creature who had just agreed to go up to your hotel room with you to, obviously, shower for upcoming event, that you are a Pimp for the rich and powerful?

It wasn't like he thought he was going to be renting her out to his clients or anything. Hell, sometimes he worked on recruiting a specific woman for months, even years before she finally did a striptease for a client or parted her thighs for the big bucks. But it still wasn't something you told a woman you didn't know.

No, right now, all Trent was hoping for from Samantha was to get her to his room, see her emerging from a shower in a thick plush robe with her that long, fiery red hair matted to her scalp and fair skinned shoulders. Maybe get laid...? Why not? They were consenting adults, she obviously wasn't a prude, and he had done her -- and was going to do her -- a great favor for which she might feel inclined to screw him.

Then again, she might steal his travel bag and wallet and disappear into the busy casino. He laughed at that last thought. It would be the first time he got robbed by a hitch hiker, and if it happened it certainly wouldn't be the last.

"I arrange parties for important people," he clarified. "Upscale kind of stuff. Art gallery openings ... 21st birthdays for rich kids ... business promotions. That kind of stuff."

What he was saying was entirely accurate. He was just leaving out the part about the strippers and whores. The absence of truth is not a lie, he remembered being told when he first began in this business.

Trent jerked the car right suddenly and shot down a long drive toward a gate. He stopped, lowered the window -- causing yet another rush of fire to enter the car -- and ran a card through a reader. He guided the car into the Guest Parking Garage, heading directly for a reserved space near the elevator. A security guard near the hotel's entrance flashed him a smile and a simple wave, saying, "Welcome back, Mister Taylor."

"Thank you, Dave," Trent said with polite familiarity. As he stepped out, he asked, could you send a Bell Boy down here to get--"

"Saw you in the Security Monitor, Mister Taylor," the Guard cut in. "He's already on his way."



Five minutes later, Trent was staring at Samantha's backside as she entered the two room suite on the 14th floor. He wished he could see her expression, but he was perfectly satisfied with staring at that perfect, shapely ass. Was she impressed with the luxury of the thousand dollar a night Villa? Or, was this just common place to her, just another visit to a room frequented by her and her former boy friend.

He turned away from her with his cell to his ear. He didn't hide his end of the conversation from Samantha: he wasn't planning on saying anything that he didn't think she should hear.
"Morris. Yeah, I'm here..."
"No ... she didn't come..."
"Yeah, I'll be ready..."
"No, I, um ..."

He turned and looked at Samantha before continuing.

"I have another ... opportunity..."
"Yeah, we'll need her to come up ASAP. Makeup, hair, nails ... the whole thing. Have them send up Gloria. I like her work..."

He laughed, looking down to the dusty bag Samantha had had on the road and remembering what she'd said about not having anything to wear to meet others.

"Send Allie up with the cart..."
"Yeah ... the sexy one..."
"Let me ask."

He lowered his phone to his chest and, finding Samantha looking his way, smiled and asked, "What size do you wear ... dress and ... undergarments?"

By the undergarments comment, Trent was essentially asking Are those "C" or "D" cup breasts you incredible creature?

Then his lips spread in a wide, devilish grin. "And he needs to know whether you like thongs ... or what he's calling regular panties, what ever that means."

 

[Sandi117]

"Personal entertainment?" What the hell was 'personal entertainment'? Perhaps it was as innocent as party planning... But what kind of parties? To her, it didn't sound so innocent, especially when he answered with that smirk, and then laughed. When he explained a little further, she felt a little more at ease. However, she had a feeling that he wasn't telling her everything.

When they pulled into the lot, she couldn't help but look around again. She stared at the guard who greeted them, then mentioning that a bell boy was already on the way down. Trent had obviously been there enough times in the past for them to know who he was. Obviously he was important enough for that private access through the gate, and having a reserved spot. Maybe going along with him for a little while wouldn't be a bad idea. She could get a couple nights of good sleep, eat well... Then she could just be on her merry way when she was done. Same reminder herself to keep her wits about her, though.


She followed the bell boy up to the room that Trent had booked. She glanced about the room with an awestruck expression. It wasn't just a hotel room, it was an apartment. A couch and two plush chairs with a wall-mounted flat screen tv in the living room, full kitchen with granite counter top, and what looked to be two separate bedrooms... She'd stayed in nice rooms before, but nothing like this.

Sam listened to him on the phone. Make up, hair, nails... "What was he planning? What size do you wear... dress and... undergarments?" She stared at him for a moment, unsure if she should answer him. "And he needs to know whether you like thongs ... or what he's calling regular panties, what ever that means."

"Uhm..." She swallowed, feeling her face grow hot and flush. "Size 10 in dress... 36DD bra... And I prefer boyshorts, actually."

 

[LitWriter2013]

Samantha blushed a fiery red as she answered, "Size 10 in dress... 36DD bra... And I prefer boyshorts, actually."

Trent let his eyes fall to her body for a moment, trying to envision her in a pair of tight fitting boy shorts. Maybe some lace ...baby blue, to match a push up bra that created a canyon of cleavage. My god, what they wouldn't pay to see that, he thought.

He pulled his eyes from her, saying into the phone, "What ...? You caught that...? Good. You have what she-- Okay, send it up. But send Gloria first. Sam'll be ready for her."

He glanced quickly to Samantha, mouthing Sorry. He was beginning to push the limits of how far he could direct her actions and he wanted to ensure he was aware of that.

"Okay ... yes, that's good ...fine, see you in fifteen."

He pocketed the cell, then studied her for a moment. He knew she had to be wondering just what the fuck he had in store for her. He decided to out it to her point blank.

"I have this friend, Sam. He ...he has a lot of money. And he likes to spend it on beautiful women. I'm not asking you to do anything ...what's the word ...compromising. But..."

He reached into his pocket, withdrew a fat wad of money, and ripped off a pair of hundred dollar bills. He set them on the lamp table, continuing, "If you were willing to escort my friend around town tonight ...dinner ...dancing ...nothing more."

He looked over her figure again. "You can keep the dress you choose for the night, too. And the ...what did you call them ...boy shorts?"

He smiled broadly, pocketing the money clip. "If this isn't your cup of tea, just say no." He glanced toward the master bedroom. "You can still stay the night. Your own room, of course. No obligations."

 

[Sandi117]

"I have this friend, Sam. He ...he has a lot of money. And he likes to spend it on beautiful women. I'm not asking you to do anything ...what's the word ...compromising. But... If you were willing to escort my friend around town tonight ...dinner ...dancing ...nothing more."

What was she getting herself into? He was asking her to be an escort? She glanced to the bills he set on the table. He was willing to pay her a couple hundred dollars just to spend a little time with this so-called 'friend' of his. Trent said she didn't have to do anything compromising. Just give this friend her company for dinner and a couple drinks and that was it. Or she could say no. But, she would be getting the full works if she did this for him. Hair, makeup, nails, some new clothes.

Samantha's mind raced as she considered the possibilities. Maybe she could get this to work to her advantage. "Okay," she said, crossing her arms over her chest. She looked him over a few times. "If I'm going to do this, I want $700, not just two. Cell phone, and before this little... Escorting gig happens. And if he so much as touches me the wrong way, I'm gone." She thought for a moment. Her demands didn't sound as demanding as she intended... But it was a start. She not be an experienced hitch hiker or con artist, but she know how to get what she wanted most of the time.

"Do I have time to take a shower first?"

 

[LitWriter2013]

(OOC -- Sam's reaction below is "god moded". If she would have done this, please feel free to say something and I will change it. I had to do it because I only get to post once today and had to move along.)


"Okay," she said, studying Trent.

He smirked just a bit: he'd seen this expression -- this body language -- before, and knew the negotiating was on its way.

Samantha set her terms, gave him a moment to think about it, then asked, "Do I have time to take a shower first?"

"Of course," he said, reserving his answer until later.



Trent wasn't sneaking, but he was able to enter the bathroom and lean back against the counter to watch Samantha's image -- blurred as it was by the translucent glass -- for a full minute or two without her knowing he was there.

He cleared his throat and saw her movements change, indicating she'd heard him. "So ... here's the deal, Sam."

The door slid open and her surprised face looked out at him.

"The client says he's not putting out that kind of money if he isn't getting laid," Trent said with a matter of fact tone. It was as if he was back selling cars again and was negotiating the added cost of getting the satellite radio installed. "I told him it was a long shot, but that if you were ... amenable to it, it would cost him a thousand."

He hesitated a moment, glancing to the tiled floor and the pile of clothes Samantha had left there. Just the sight of her little panties and bra set lying there were enough to perk his cock up. You would have thought having nothing more than a sheet of glass between him and a tall, long legged naked beauty would be enough to get him rock hard, but Trent dealt with naked or mostly naked women all the time. But there was something about seeing a woman in her undergarments that ... that just got him hot!

He didn't do this often, as his primary concern with sexy, erotic women was how much money he could make off the top of a big deal with a wealthy client. But Samantha was different: from the moment he'd seen her standing there along the highway, all he'd been able to think about was getting those long, luscious legs wrapped around his torso.

"If you weren't ... amenable to this ... to the idea of committing to sex with a total stranger, you could still earn that seven hundred--" He looked back up to her with an uncharacteristic, shy smile. "--by sleeping with me. After all, we aren't total strangers."

 

[Sandi117]

She enjoyed the feeling of the warm water on her skin. She ran her fingers through her hair, working the fruity shampoo into a lather. Rinsed. Coated her hair with conditioner. Sam almost forgot that she'd come here with another person. Until Trent cleared his throat from outside the shower stall. She sighed, rinsing the conditioner from her hair before poking her head from behind the door. Water fell from her hair to the floor, creating a small puddle.

"So... here's the deal, Sam."

She watched him, listened to him explain the situation. She wouldn't be getting the money she asked for. She had half a hunch that she probably wouldn't, but it was still worth a shot. Then she tuned into him again when he mentioned that she would be paid a thousand. "A grand?" That was a lot of money. Oh what she could do with that money... She watched him glance at her clothes on the floor.

"...you could still earn that seven hundred--by sleeping with me. After all, we aren't total strangers."

That shy smile he gave her almost did her in. He didn't seem the type to ever be shy... And he was quite delicious, and she did wonder what he looked without his shirt on. And pants. On top of her.

The voice in the back of her head told her that he was probably trying to be manipulative, just trying to get something out of Sam worth the money she was asking. "No, not happening," she said, shaking her head. More water dripped from her hair onto the tile floor with the movement. "Maybe you're willing to take advantage of the people who can't seem to take their time to attract a woman on their own, but I still have some values." To her, as tempting as the money was, it wasn't worth it. She could do it, but even just thinking about it made her feel dirty. She wasn't a whore.

She turned the water off. She wrapped a fluffy white towel around her body after grabbing it from the wall next to the shower where she hung it. Maybe she couldn't get what she thought out of him. But she certainly wasn't going to do anything she didn't want to do. "I'll spend some time with this friend of yours for what you were originally going to pay me." The redhead then bent down and scooped up the clothes she had piled on the floor. Looking him in the eyes, she added, "But that's it."

 

[LitWriter2013]

"No, not happening," Samantha answered.

Trent wasn't surprised. He was disappointed. But ... he wasn't surprised.

"Maybe you're willing to take advantage of the people who can't seem to take their time to attract a woman on their own, but I still have some values."

She wrapped herself in a thick towel and stepped out of the shower.

Trent wasn't shy about looking Samantha over. Those longs, smooth legs with trails of water running down them, that plentiful bosom giving shape to the plush cloth hiding them; it simply made him mouth water and his dick twitch as neither had in some time.

Pimp as he might be -- using the harsher of his titles -- Trent didn't actually get laid as often as many people might imagine he did. He had needs, but most of them began with search for the almighty dollar, not a snug fitting condom.

"I'll spend some time with this friend of yours for what you were originally going to pay me," Samantha said, gathering her clothes, "But that's it."

He smiled politely. He responded tentatively, hoping that he would be able to salvage something -- professionally or personally -- out the evening with Samantha. "That isn't going to happen ... unfortunately. The client ... he wants to end his night with a woman atop his groin. Sorry. Didn't mean--"

He realized he'd said that a bit more graphically than he'd meant to, but decided to just let it go.

He gave her one last once-over, smiled politely, then turned and headed out into the bedroom. "Listen, I appreciate that you considered the offer."

He stopped near the two hundred still sitting out, turned to face her again, and tapped a finger tip upon the bills. "Those are for you."

He reached into his shirt pocket and pulled out a business card, sitting it atop the cash. "I have to go see the client ... to make some other arrangements. You are, of course, welcome to stay here the night. Just because we aren't doing business together doesn't mean we can't ... you know, hang out."

He was still hoping that at least he might see Samantha atop his groin before the night was over. He knew it was a long shot, but Trent had never been above hopeful dreaming.

Once he walked out, he'd probably never see her again: she'd take the $200, get a cheap motel room off the strip, play a little slots hoping to hit it lucky, and be back on the highway the next afternoon, flashing those blue-greens and that wide smile at someone else.

"I'll send up some dinner," he continued, turning for the door, "and a bottle of champagne ... for the heck of it."

He stopped and turned at the door, looking back -- and all over her -- once more. She was stunning, and he hated the thought of departing a room in which a woman dressed in only a towel was standing. But, he had a client to please, and if Samantha wasn't going to take care of it, Trent had to find another of his girls who was available. Otherwise, he was going to end up on his own knees, sucking this man's dick, and neither of the men really wanted that.

He smiled at that absurd thought, but the smile faded quickly as he remembered how he got into this business ten years earlier. He never wanted to go back to that again...

(OOC: PM coming your way. Read it before you respond.)

 

[Sandi117]

"That isn't going to happen ... unfortunately. The client ... he wants to end his night with a woman atop his groin. Sorry. Didn't mean--"

The polite smile, the tentative response. She almost felt guilty. Almost. There were a lot of things she was willing to do for quick cash, a lot of things she had done. It's not that she wasn't above using her assets to her advantage. Many times in the past she had shown just a little extra skin, or flirted a bit more with particular people to get what she wanted. Free drinks, a meal, etc. But, being an escort, a prostitute, was not something she was willing to do... At least, she wasn't desperate enough yet.

The redhead watched him leave the bathroom, then placing a card atop the two hundred-dollar bills. His business card? "I have to go see the client ... to make some other arrangements. You are, of course, welcome to stay here the night. Just because we aren't doing business together doesn't mean we can't ... you know, hang out." He'd send up food, and champagne. He gave her one more obvious look up and down her body, then he left.

Sam sighed, dropping the clothes in her arms on the bed before rubbing her temples. She hadn't realized that she had been clenching her jaw, causing the soreness. The young woman had a feeling all those services that were going to be available to her before, were no longer coming. She could just leave, she had no reason to stay. Or she could take him up on the offer and at least stay the night. She glanced at the bills on the table. "Why not have a little fun?" she asked herself with a smile.

Digging into her bag, she looked for something to wear. She pulled out a purple short-sleeved top that cut low in the front, with lace panels down the side that allowed for peaks at her skin. With the cut of her shirt, her black bra barely peaked above the neckline. She paired the shirt with a pair of black shorts and black heels which just made her legs seem even longer.

A knock came at the door after she dried her hair and did her make up. She answered and saw the bell boy standing there with a cart of food. His eyes grew wide before he stammered, "I-I brought y-you some dinner, m-ma'am." She smiled as he brought the food in, put it in the kitchen, and left. She ate quickly, having some of the steak and vegetables that were on some of the plates. She left the bottle of champagne though. Grabbing the two hundred dollars and finding a room key on the coffee table in front of the couch in the main room, she left and headed down to the casino. Maybe she could make a grand off of a Blackjack table.

 

[LitWriter2013]

Trent was feeling pretty good once he'd finished his conversation with the client. In the elevator up to the man's penthouse suite, he'd been able to get a hold of one of his other Girls and arrange for her to be there in time. He passed her off as a more satisfying and guaranteed alternative to the new girl -- Sam -- who Trent claimed was relatively new to the business and might have been hesitant about certain activities.

That had been an understatement, of course. In the end, the client seemed happy, Trent was happy -- he was still getting his commission -- and Samantha...

Well, she had two hundred bucks, a hotel suite, and a hot shower; and she hadn't had to compromise her principles, which Trent had suspected was the reason for her refusal to play along, so he assumed that she, too, was happy.

He returned to the room and found her and his cash gone. Her bag and dirty clothes were still there, though, which meant she was coming back. That alone was enough to make Trent happy. It still didn't mean he was going to get any tonight, but knowing that there would only be thirty feet of luxury hotel room between his bed and hers was enough to make his dick twitch eagerly.

Trent looked at her bag, hesitated, then went to it. He'd never been above invading the privacy of others, not as a young boy or as a grown pimp. He dug through the bag, finding the usual for a woman on the move. He found a bit more than that, making him smirk a bit. He put the bag back together again as it was. The first rule of poking your nose where it didn't belong was to know how to hide the fact that it had been there in the first place.

He glanced around the room for hiding places: Samantha surely knew that the first rule of hotels was to hide anything you didn't want others to see, whether it was housekeeping or your nosy roommate.

A knock at the door interrupted his search, though. He answered, finding a business associate. "What's wrong?"

"Stella," the man said simply.

Trent rolled his eyes and followed the man off to deal with one of his more emotional Girls.



Two hours later, he was standing on the mezzanine level above the main floor, looking down at the very alluring Samantha. She was at the black jack table with a pile of chips before her that -- by the colors Trent knew well -- was definitely more than the two hundred dollars he'd left her with. He watched her for quite a while, feeling guilty: while he loved to see anyone beat the house, he was hoping that Samantha would hit a losing streak any moment and wind up with even less than she'd had when she met him six hours earlier.

Trent's associate arrived again and reported the more improved situation with Stella. The two of them left for a quieter place to talk, after which Trent returned to the Mezzanine.

Samantha was gone. He looked about but saw no sign of her. Busted? Rich? In the Ladies Lounge? He caught sight of a waitress he sometimes employed and asked if she remembered Samantha, but she'd only just come on shift and knew nothing of the redhead.

Trent returned to the room but found no sign of his temporary traveling partner there either. Fuck! She was gone, out of his life. Disappointing...

He resigned himself to the fact that he was out two hundred bucks, an highly marked up dinner, and a night of fucking his brains out with a beautiful woman. He stripped down, hit the showers, and made his way -- naked, with the champagne in hand -- for the jacuzzi on the balcony over looking The Strip.

 

[Sandi117]

Samantha wandered around the casino floor for a little bit, a little black velvet bag hanging from her wrist holding the chips she exchanged the money for. She never would have played that much money in one night on her own. But, her thinking was it was money she didn't have a couple hours ago, so if she didn't have it at the end of a few hours, it wouldn't be any different. She glanced around the tables, checking their minimum and maximum bets, as well as the people who occupied them.

She approached one table that had a free seat next to a young man who looked to be no older than her. But, he shooed her away, stating that his girlfriend was just in the bathroom. She looked around again before setting her gaze on another. A group of 5 men, all looking to be in their mid-thirties, but only three were actually playing. 'Their wives must control the bank account,' she thought to herself, noticing the two non-players wearing wedding bands. It must have been a bachelor party, judging by how they continued to egg one of the group members on. She walked up to the table and gave them a smile. "Do you boys have room for one more?"

A seat was given up and she sat down. Cards dealt, she put up an initial $20 bet. She flirted with the men, even the married ones, though one seemed fairly reserved and didn't return the exchange other than short answers. They asked why she was there alone. She explained that she was just tagging along on a friend's business trip, and they were currently tied up at dinner with their client. 'Not a total lie,' she thought. Thought bought it. The cocktail waitress came around and she ordered a vodka cranberry. About 15 minutes later she had another.

She won and lost games, though, even surprising to herself, she was winning most of them considering she hadn't played Blackjack in over a year, that and her card counting skills were beyond rusty. The drunk group gave chips to her as she played dumb a few times, being shy about betting more than $40. Two and a half hours, 6 drinks, and $400 in winnings later, it was time for shift change. Sam may not have gambled much, but she knew enough that when it was time for shift change, it was time to change games, or at least tables. She said goodbye to the now thoroughly smashed men and made her way to the cashier to cash her chips, a bit wobbly on her feet. "Maybe it's time to head back up to the room..." she said to herself. She didn't feel any of the alcohol as she sat at the Blackjack table, but as soon as she stood up, it seemed to rush straight to her head.

Samantha enjoyed herself, much more than she had in a long time. She opened the door to the room and softly closed it behind her. She wasn't sure how late it was. Typical of all casinos, there were no clocks down on the casino floor. She glanced into the kitchen and noticed the food hadn't been touched, but the bottle of champagne was gone. She kicked her shoes off and continued to walk through the villa. "Trent?" she called out. The door to the balcony was open and she popped her head out, and saw him in the jacuzzi. "Hey there," she greeted with a bright, smile.

 

[LitWriter2013]

Trent had had his head back, staring into the sky at yet another high flying jet hurrying passengers between the Coasts, one direction or another. Flying was something he did a lot of of, but always for business. He couldn't remember the last time he'd hopped a flight simply to go somewhere that he wanted to go.

"Hey there."

He looked to the open sliding glass doors with a start, not having heard Samantha's entrance over the bubbling of the jacuzzi. He smiled without hesitation: she'd come back! His eyes fell from her exquisite face to her shapely figure. Other than her dramatic cleavage, Trent hadn't been able to see her well at the black jack table, but now he saw the teasing, lace panels and the trim of her black bra and the long legs made longer by high heels, and he immediately began to come alive down below.

"Enjoy yourself?" he asked, not wanting to say anything that would have let her know he'd been watching her at the tables. He listened to her answer, then -- desperate to see her out of her clothes again -- said, "The water's nice."

She stepped away from the door frame that had been giving her support, and Trent noticed that Samantha was a bit wobbly from alcohol. He smiled again, adding, "No suit required."

 

[Sandi117]

"Enjoy yourself?" he had asked her.

She nodded, and gave a slight shrug. "I supposed. Met some interest people, had a few drinks, played some Blackjack." She gave another smile. "Won a little, lost a little." Sam had no need to tell him what her earnings were. She had a feeling he would probably find out in his own way later, as he seemed to be the type of person who wanted to know as much as possible about the people around him. Not that there was anything wrong with that.

"The water's nice. No suit required."

She gave a small laugh, and rolled her eyes. "Like I even have a swimsuit with me." The alcohol clouded her thoughts. The jacuzzi did seem quite inviting. And there was Trent, sitting there with the champagne. She didn't need anymore alcohol. If she drank more, she knew for certain she would end up sick, she already knew she was probably going to be hung over in the morning. She looked with blue-green eyes to the water again.

She threw caution and her clouded better judgement to the warm wind that blew across the balcony. "What the hell..." She pulled the purple top over her head, revealing the black satin and lace bra she wore underneath. Next went the shorts, a matching pair of boyshorts. She had other undergarments to wear while these dried after a dip in the hot tub. She piled her clothes neatly in a corner before stepping up and sitting on the edge of the jacuzzi. She swung her legs over and settle herself onto a seat across from Trent.

She looked at him for a moment, pondering her question before asking. "Was your friend angry?"

 

[LitWriter2013]

Trent was a bit disappointed that Samantha didn't continue stripping away layers, becoming as naked as he was. But, again, he wasn't surprised.

She was incredible looking. A fully rounded body with a fantastic hour glass figure. His gaze never left her figure as she stepped to and into the jacuzzi. The roiling water played about her belly, just below her breasts. Little droplets of water began wetting the black bra, and after just a minute or so, it was pasted to her breasts like a second skin, revealing the Montgomery glands of her aureola and even the tiny divots in the middle of her nipples where, presumably, her future children would one day gain their their nourishment.

Trent loved nipples. Or, more precisely, he loved hidden but visible nipples: he loved seeing a woman's nipples displayed through their clothing, be it outside in the cold with them pressing through thin blouses or -- like now -- showing themselves through the shaping cloth or a wet bra or blouse. He could still recall losing his virginity to the runner up of a wet tee shirt contest his Fraternity had sponsored. The pair of them had fucked and sucked for hours that night, and when finally they were finished, she had still been wearing her dramatically cropped tee shirt because Trent had refused to let her take it off.

"Was your friend angry?"

He barely caught her words. "Hmm...? Oh, him?" Trent waved off her concern, as if the man meant nothing to him. "He's fine. He gets some, he doesn't. No big deal."

It actually was, of course. He'd had to guarantee the replacement whore $1500 -- which meant no commission for him -- to get her to change her plans with a Regular. But, Trent kept his client happy and that was all that mattered.

He tilted the champagne bottle up to fill his glass, then looked across to her and said, "How rude of me. Let me get a flute for you."

She said she didn't need anymore, but Trent ignored her. He wasn't getting up to get her a glass: he was getting up to show her him. He rose from the frothy water, giving Samantha a quick glance at his semi-hardened nine inches, then turned and stepped out of the jacuzzi, giving her a good look at his muscular buttocks. As he headed into the hotel room, he caught a quick look at her reflection in the sliding glass door and smiled.

 

[Sandi117]

The look on his face when she pulled him from his trance-like stare at her chest was slightly comical. She knew from a young age she had quite a nice chest, especially when she had gone from being a C cup to a DD cup just over the summer between her Junior and Senior year in high school. But, as they were a blessing, they were equally a curse. She often had a hard time finding shirts to fit right, and some stores didn't even carry her size of bra.

The brunette man didn't acknowledge her refusal of the champagne. She let her eyes roam as he moved to exit the jacuzzi. Until she realized he was naked underneath all those bubbles the water jets were creating. Her eyes quickly but only momentarily went to his member before looking down at the water in front of her. She sank down til the water was just below her shoulders, feeling her cheeks flush, just as they had earlier when he asked what sizes in clothing she wore. It wasn't her first time ever seeing a naked man, and she was sure it would be far from her last. But, considering Trent was essentially still a stranger to her made her feel slightly embarrassed. Her eyes fluttered up again, catching a glimpse of that wonderful rear-end of his. He obviously took the time to take care of his body when he wasn't taking care of his clients.

Leaning back, she looked up at the sky, looking for what few stars could be seen through all the lights of Sin City. Her mind swam with thoughts, possibilities, scenarios. She was over thinking everything. He was probably without clothes because he didn't think she was coming back to the room that night, or at all. Or perhaps he was just one of those people who was very comfortable being naked. Samantha just wanted to see more of him, as much as she hated admitting that to herself. However, she was still staying scantily clothed. Even with the liquid courage in her veins, she wasn't at the 'let me take me clothes off' stage of being drunk. Yet.

Though, she tried to convince herself to reconsider. After all, they would only be spending the rest of the night in each other's company and part ways in the morning, more than likely. Unless he invited her to stay longer. Being able to sleep in that large, fluffy, comfortable-looking bed for more than one night was a teasing thought. "Maybe a little champagne wouldn't hurt," she said quietly to herself. If anything, she would just sleep off the hangover.

 

[LitWriter2013]

Trent returned to the jacuzzi carrying a second flute with the remainder of the champagne in it and a pair of Splits of champagne that came standard in the fridge of the Villa suites. He walked casually up to the hot tub, stepped down into it, and sat in the seat that put him just two feet from Samantha, never once showing any concern that his now slightly larger cock had been close enough to the woman that she could have reached out and snagged it without hardly sitting up further.

He handed her the flute, then leaned over to the far side of the tub -- lifting out of the water and putting his firm gluts just before her face -- to retrieve his own glass. As he sat down again, he held up his drink and said, "How about a toast. To... I don't know. I know it's typical for the man to speak the toast, byt why don't you do the honors?"

 

[Sandi117]

(OOC: I'm on my phone right now, and it's new. At least to me. So, I'm still getting used to the QWERTY keyboard versus my old phone. I tried fixing all the typos I could find. Just so you know future reference incase words and entences start appearing with.periods.between.them, like I just did right then on purpose. And I apologize in advanced.)

The redhead couldn't help but look at him, all of him again, her eyes traveling south briefly before up to his face and giving him a smile. She came to the conclusion that he was proud of how he looked and had no qualms showing his body to any person in his presence. She wasn't complaining, at least not totally. He made it hard for her to keep her wits about her, hard to focus. After all, his not-so-little friend was just waving in front of her. It'd been a while since she'd been in bed with a man, at least a real man. Not her sorry excuse of a boyfriend, now ex-boyfriend. And Trent being so comfortably naked in front of her, just oozing sex from his being, made her crave that touch she hadn't felt in a long while.

She took the glass from him, giving another small smile, and said, "Thank you." Then up out of the water he was again, his ass in front of her face. She noted the muscle tone there, and in his legs, and his back. And everywhere else. Was he showing off to her? She was no stranger to showing off her assets, she had done earlier when she went down to the casino floor. He put her to shame, making her little acts of flaunting look like the innocent teasings of a high school girl.

"How about a toast. To... I don't know. I know it's typical for the man to speak the toast, but why don't you do the honors?"

She lifted her glass with him. "Uhm..." She paused, thinking for a moment, finding it hard to concentrate with him much closer now, and the alcohol from earlier still swimming through her bloodstream. She gave a gentle laugh. "To... Doing what we need to do to get what we want...?" After saying what she said, she felt dumb, and quickly added, "And to good company." What else was she supposed to say?

 

[LitWriter2013]

"To... Doing what we need to do to get what we want...?"

Trent smiled at the beginning of her toast. He wondered what in this world Samantha wanted. Independence and freedom: those were gimmes. But, like the patriotic bumper sticker said, "Freedom isn't free". Even the life of independence on the open road took money. What would she do for money?

She wouldn't fuck for it, Trent already knew. Question was: Would she fuck simply for the pleasure of it.

"And to good company," she added, making Trent smile even wider.

"To good company," he repeated, tinkling his flute to hers and sipping at it.

They sat in silence for a long moment, staring into each others eyes as they sipped at the champagne. Trent knew what he wanted, and he hoped it was the same thing she wanted. He wasn't much for flirting, not at his age any more. Flirting seemed so high school.

"I would like to make love to you, Sam," he said point blank. He set his flute aside and stood, his even more so erect penis now stiff enough to not be touching his thighs as he turned, stepped out of the water, then turned back. "I'll be waiting for you in my bedroom. If ... if you don't feel the same ... you are under no obligation to join me."

He gave her one last look, the upper roundness of her wonderful breasts just barely above the bubbling water. Then, he turned and went to his bed, drying off with a snatched up towel along the way and laying on his bed, praying that she would come to him.

 

[Sandi117]

"I would like to make love to you, Sam," he said to her, setting his flute aside. She watched him stand, noting his penis was standing more at attention than ever. He turned to her after he stepped out of the hot tub. "I'll be waiting for you in my bedroom. If ... if you don't feel the same ... you are under no obligation to join me." He then walked into the villa, she assumed to his room.

He was frank, straight to the point. No beating around the bush, no mind tricks, no high school games. Just blunt truth. She liked flirtation and flattery as much as the next girl, but his directness was a quality Samantha was beginning to really admire in the man.

She sat in the jacuzzi for a few minutes, thinking. She did want him... She wanted to do unmentionable and unimaginable things with him. But was he expecting her to sleep with him after what he'd done for her? She then remember her awkward toast. He did what he needed to get what he wanted, it was obvious. He was basically a pimp to high-end clients, and apparently quite good at it. If he really wanted her and felt she owed him, he would have already had his way with her long before then. And he had said he wanted to make love to her. Not fuck her, not sleep with her, but make love. It'd been a long time since anyone used that terminology with her.

She stood from where she sat and shivered against the breeze that blew across the balcony. Though still warm, the air chilled her skin, causing goosebumps to run up and down her whole body. She decided to take a cue from him. Do what she wanted, go after what she wanted, no games. While on her journey to freedom and independence, she was bound to start changing, and there was no better time to start than right then. They were two consenting adults, who else was there to judge her?

Sam quietly made her way back into the villa, closing the door behind her. She dumped the clothes she picked up from outside on the couch before looking at his open door. She finished the champagne in her flute with a large swallow, and set the glass down on the table. Now or never. She entered the room, feeling suddenly and surprisingly confident. She crawled up on the bed and laid down on her side next to him, propping herself up on her elbow. She ignored the fact that her wet bra, underwear, and hair were probably getting his bed wet as well. It was the only thing getting wet... "So... What was this about making love?"