I sat back, perplexed. Why would he pay for a date? I was confused. Sure, the guy on a date usually picks up expenses like the dinner bill, flowers, the movie tickets, but it sounded like something else was going on. Plus, five hundred dollars was a lot to spend. I’d been on a couple dates and the boys had spent thirty bucks max, taking me out to places like Pizza Shack and Burgers a Go Go.
“I don’t get it,” I said. “Why would you pay me to go on a date with you?”
And here, the man shot me a glance.
“You really are naïve aren’t you?”
I flushed at that one because he’d hit close to home. The fact is that even though I’m eighteen with a bodacious bod I’m really, really inexperienced when it comes to men. I’ve only been out a couple times with some gangly teenage boys, and hadn’t even done that in the past few months. With my impossible schedule, there was no way to meet up with anyone for anything, much less something as frivolous as a date. I figured I’d wait until I graduated, until I had a normal schedule, to get my romantic life going.
But that wasn’t for the middle-aged man to know and I wasn’t going to let on.
“I’m young,” I said stiffly, “but I’m not clueless.”
“Yes, you are,” he corrected gently, “because I’m paying you to come to a hotel room with me. Get it? We’ll have the type of date where there’s no food, no drink, no conversation. Just some horizontal action with our clothes off, my dick buried in your cunt.”
And that’s when my cheeks flamed. I realized what a dunce I was, how stupid I’d been. When I’d sat down next to the man, I’d seen the gleam of a gold band on his left index finger and immediately assumed that he was a married man, that his intentions were honorable.
“But … but you’re married,” I gasped, horrified, forgetting to keep my voice down. Looking around, I was mortified. Oh my god, I was being propositioned at 6 a.m. on the Midtown Express by a married man. Oh god, oh god.
But the dude just laughed.
“So what? Yeah, I’m married and I have three kids too. Doesn’t mean that you and I can’t get it on,” he said, waggling his eyebrows.
But now I was just completely disgusted. It’s not that I think people are angels, I’d just never had this happen to me, never had a married man proposition me, openly offer me money for sex.
Immediately, I started stuffing things back into my bag, shoving papers hurriedly, not caring if they were crumpled. Without wasting a second, I jumped up and ran to the back of the bus.
“Excuse me, excuse me,” I huffed as I made my way down the aisle, losing my balance a couple times, clipping people’s knees, almost knocking over one woman’s laptop. But fortunately, my old seat was still open and I collapsed into it with a relieved sigh, not caring how I landed. Better to be carsick than have to sit next to that sleazy dude for one more second.
But once the ride ended, he was waiting for me on the sidewalk outside the bus as the sun dawned in Manhattan, our fellow passengers streaming around us.
“If you change your mind, let me know,” he smirked, briefcase in hand. God, he really was a smarmy bastard with the greasy hair and cheesy pin-striped suit. “I’m Barry,” he added with a knowing smile and quick pat on my butt. “See ya tomorrow, little lady.”
And I turned and ran to work, flying those last few blocks, my feet pounding the pavement, footsteps heavy, not caring if anyone saw. I just wanted to get away, get away from this nightmare. With a relieved sigh, I let myself into Luxor Corp., taking a deep breath once the massive door closed after me. The silence was deafening, the whir of the machines a soothing hum and I’d never been so happy to be alone, to catch my breath and calm down.
Gratefully, I settled myself at my computer, making a cup of instant coffee, trying to calm down. But my concentration was lost, I couldn’t focus, the numbers of the screen blurring in front of me, melting into dizzy figures. Because the proposition had tickled my fancy. Heck no, I didn’t want to be Barry’s convenient hook-up, his paid-for easy lay. The middle-aged man was way too gross, his skin slicked with oil, out of shape with a significant paunch. It was more the fantasy of sex that beckoned. Yes, I was lusting for a man. A handsome man, one commanding and alpha who’d take my nubile body with expert hands and a big dick, make me sigh, scream and moan with ecstasy.
And the thought made me shiver in my desk chair, my body on high once more. There were no men in sight, heck, there were no other people even in the basement. And so I turned to the next best option … a sex toy rumbling against my cunt, making me scream with pleasure.