The Start of Something

The first thing Mr. Hardy did after he bought me out was close down my parlor for the “re-branding” process. For three months. I told him I’d lose my clients. I told him I’d lose everything. Three months? Suddenly, the seventeen thousand didn’t seem so valuable.After about a week, Maxwell called me at my home number.”How did you get this number?” I asked him. I was curled up in my recliner by the TV, wearing my fuzziest bathrobe and drinking my wine.”I need to see you.” Maxwell’s voice was hushed and somehow it echoed.”Are you at home right now?” I asked.”I’m in the bathroom. My wife just went to bed. Listen, Amy, I need a massage.””We open again in a few months,” I told him. “I can schedule you in for then.””Amy.””Go to another parlor then.””I’m not talking about the massage, Amy.”I breathed out a long sigh. “I know.””That last time was just so–I think I’m in love with you, Amy.””Jesus.””No, listen. I just need to see you again.”I’d always worried this might happen. One of my clients might get possessive. When the L word came out, Escort side I knew it was time to call it off, at least, cut this one off.”I’m not going to be with you, Maxwell.””I just want to be inside of you again, baby.”I confess I was a little wet and a little buzzed. Maxwell was an honest-to-god Greek masterpiece. Muscular like you wouldn’t believe. The idea of him wanting me…”I’ll pay you.””Maxwell–“”Double.”I stopped. One of my fingers, I noticed, was nearing the gap between my legs and my left breast had popped out of a fold in my robes.”The parlor is closed down. It’s being remodeled. I can’t see you there.””Anywhere, then.””I have been known to make house calls.””You can’t come here!” he almost shouted. “My kids.”For double the money, how could I turn him down? Even if he did love me; if it hadn’t gone too far. For double the money, I’ll do almost anything. For triple, I’ll do absolutely anything. “How about triple,” I said. “And you can come to my apartment.””How about tomorrow? One o’clock.”I manavgat escort shivered, one of my fingers had found its way inside of me (how did it do that?).”Yes,” I gasped and hung up.I remembered how Nancy had set up her apartment for our first time together and I didn’t have a massage bench here either, so I would bring him to the bedroom. I lit candles, I stripped nude, I put on my fuzzy bathrobe, I poured myself a glass of wine. He arrived exactly at one like we agreed.”Actually,” he said, “I got here early, but I waited outside.””You’re funny,” I said in my most girlish voice. Where did that come from? I didn’t have to impress this man.He came into my kitchen and noticed the bottle of wine I had left on the counter. He turned his back to me.”Oh, do you want a drink?” I said.He had put a stack of bills on the counter. Cash. I noticed that I was wet.”Of course,” Maxwell said. He smiled at me, those cool gray eyes reflecting the blue of my kitchen tiles. My pussy felt a little wetter.He was alanya escort bayan wearing a suit, which I had never seen before. Maxwell was the star football coach, and he looked like the star quarterback. He usually came in wearing sweatpants and a cutoff shirt. He dressed up form me. I stifled a giggle. What was going on with me today?Then, I remembered our last encounter, how he had come into the parlor just after I had made the deal, how I had fucked him without a hint of pretense. I had broken my rule. I eyed the stack of cash on the counter. Maybe this was a mistake. I had crossed a line bringing him here, even for triple.”So how have you been?” he asked, sipping the wine I gave him.”Fine,” I said. “Busy.”That was a lie. But I didn’t know what to say. I could see his erection through his pants. And that was turning me on.”Right, what with selling the parlor and all.””Franchising the parlor. It’s going to be a big operation, you know.””So you won’t have time for me anymore?” He crossed the kitchen and stood next to me.I knew he was joking. And yet… I laughed and pushed him away. “You’re just worried I won’t give you your happy endings anymore.”I was supposed to be fucking him–or at the very least, massaging him. I thought of the candles burning in the bedroom. He smiled at me again. We poured another drink.