A Life Unnown

Authors note: What follows is a work of fiction based on real-life events. None of the characters depicted are real and any similarity to real people living or dead is purely coincidental.

This series of stories has been described by one commentator as historical with a modicum of sex and that is an accurate description. There are many stories on this site with far more erotic content and much erotic content with virtually no storyline at all. If you seek descriptions of wall-to-wall sex I would advise you to go elsewhere. There are many excellent examples of this on this site. I have tried to write an interesting story against a background of events occurring in the early part of the twentieth century and set in the United States and Great Britain and hope I have managed this. Please provide feedback and comments so that I can know if I have succeeded.

As usual, any grammatical or editing errors are mine and mine alone.

A Life Unknown (Part 4)

"Hello Lionel," I replied. "This is a surprise."

"Isn't it just, Victoria. If that is your name?"

"Of course it is. I never expected to see you again. Why would I have lied?"

"No reason, I suppose."

He looked me up and down, and then he laughed.

"Oh, look at you" he exclaimed. "You look like you've seen a ghost. You have nothing to fear from me. I can still remember what you said to me. "A gentleman doesn't kiss and tell."...... "And I shan't...But do tell. What are you doing here?"

"I live in Boston. I was invited."

"If you know Secretary of War, John Weeks, you are very well connected Mrs...?"

I decided it was time to come clean. Or at least as clean as I could.

"Lady Victoria Cameron currently resident in Newton," I said. "I don't know the Secretary of War well and don't support his politics, but I'm excellent friends with his wife."

It was Lionel's turn to be surprised, and I saw his eyes widen momentarily.

"Oh my," he muttered to himself.

"Now sit," I said. "We're old friends after all. We have a little catching up to do, and not much time. We shouldn't be seen together. Is your father here?"

"No. He's in Florida. He's unwell and couldn't travel. The doctors say he hasn't got long."

"I'm so sorry," I replied. Inwardly saying a silent prayer of thanks.

"Sorry he's dying, or sorry he isn't here?"

"Both."

But mostly for not being here I thought to myself.

***

It turned out that Lionel's family was very well connected too. Lionel's father had been at school in Lancaster, New Hampshire, with Secretary Weeks and they had kept in touch. Lionel's mother and Mrs Weeks were good friends, and his mother had originally planned to travel to Newton to visit and attend the party. Unfortunately, the Colonel's illness had put paid to that.

"I have some business in Boston, so I decided to visit whilst I was here and introduce my fiancée, Mildred. I got engaged last year, and she's a lovely girl. Forgive me if I don't introduce you."

As he was talking, I had been formulating a plan.

"Where are you living now?" I asked.

"I'm staying at the Lexington in Chicago. Mildred comes from there, and we're building a house in the Gold Coast district. We're getting married in Miami next month. We had planned to marry next year but have brought things forward so that my father can attend. I hope the house will be finished on time. I'm primarily based in Chicago. I'm a banker."

"Do you travel much?"

"To Boston, Philadelphia, and New York mainly."

I cast my net. He didn't stand a chance.

"I'm in New York next week. I'm staying at The Waldorf Astoria on Wednesday night. Would you like to meet for dinner? I know I'd enjoy your company....."

Lionel looked at me and I held his gaze. Men, especially young men, think almost exclusively with their penises. His penis also knew, all too well, what It would be missing if he turned me down.

He thought briefly before replying. I didn't imagine for a minute he would decide to be faithful to Mildred. I imagine he was working out what lie he would tell her to enable him to spend Wednesday night in New York... and then cheat on her.

"That would be nice," he said.

I stood.

"I'll let you get back to your young lady and see you in New York next Wednesday. Shall we say eight o'clock? I'll make reservations at the restaurant."

Then I turned and walked back into the house.

My plan was simple. I was going to mix business with pleasure and fuck his brains out. Once he had spent another night with me he would have plenty to lose if he was found out or if he decided to give Lady Cameron's secret away. For just a moment I wondered what I would have done if he had decided to blackmail me. It didn't bear thinking about.

***

Later that evening, I told Edward that I needed to go to New York on business to see Hans and that I would be going alone. I would travel on Wednesday morning and meet Hans and then go shopping in the afternoon before returning to Boston on Thursday. I was being honest enough. Screwing Lionel was business; of a sort.

I owed Hans money and needed to visit him to deliver what was due. Even though things were on hold, I needed to keep Hans happy. Sooner or later I would need his services once more.

In the business that I had been conducting, I always dealt with cash. I did not want to bank millions of dollars in cash and then have to explain how I had made my money. Paying cash to my employees maintained deniability for all concerned. In place of depositing money in a bank, I bought diamonds or gold bullion which, with substantial sums of cash, was then placed in safety deposit boxes in several banks in Boston. These boxes now contained a small fortune in uncut diamonds, gold, and dollar bills.

Carrying cash and diamonds has its risks but I minimised the risk by travelling at irregular times and intervals, never buying a ticket in advance, travelling with George, who carried a handgun, and being met off the train in Grand Central by others on my payroll. In New York, my armed guards accompanied me everywhere. Very few people knew my identity as head of the organisation.

George did question the wisdom of my going alone, but his leg had been aching badly of late and I told him he needed to rest it. I advised him that I wouldn't be carrying a great deal of cash and would not be carrying gold or jewels and he was reassured.

***

On Wednesday, at lunchtime, Hans met me off the train. We ate at the Grand Central Oyster Bar. I could have just given him the five hundred dollars he was owed, but I was in a good mood, and I have always believed in treating people properly. Whilst good treatment can't always buy loyalty, it helps. I had forgotten that Hans Baumgartner's name was written in George's ledger, although he probably hadn't. I was reminded of what my elder brother, used to say. "You can catch more flies with honey than vinegar."

We ate a half dozen oysters and a large Maine lobster each, and I picked up the bill.

I didn't need the oysters; I was as horny as fuck already.

We finished lunch shortly after two o'clock and Hans walked me to my Hotel. It was only a short walk, but it enabled me to clear my head. After I had checked into my room I decided that I would take a nap. I had no intention of shopping on this trip to the city; that had been a lie. I decided the time would be best spent resting before the exertions I planned for the night ahead.

I slept until six in the evening before getting up and taking a long hot bath. Next, I dressed and applied my makeup before heading to the Astor restaurant. On the way, I visited the hotel reception and requested my bed be made with fresh linen.

When I arrived at my table Lionel was already waiting for me and stood as I was seated by the waiter. I had dressed in a long blue sequined satin evening dress. It was low cut and sleeveless in the style of the times and had the desired effect on Lionel.

"You look beautiful, Victoria."

After my large lunch, I ate sparingly; chicken a la king, with a green salad, whilst Lionel ordered a large steak. The meal was excellent, but by the time we reached the dessert course, I was impatient.

"Shall we skip the crepes Suzette," I suggested.

"Good idea," said Lionel.

***

Once back in the room, Lionel wasted no time. No sooner had the door closed behind us than he took me in his arms and kissed me hungrily. I kissed him back. His hands were on my bum cheeks, and I could feel his erection through the fabric of my dress. Soon I could wait no longer, and I stood back and reached behind me, and undid the fastening of my dress. It fell to the floor, and I stood in front of Lionel in just my bra, panties, and black lace thigh-length stockings. Then, as he looked on I removed my bra and my tits swung free, and I stepped out of my panties.

I was naked except for my gartered stockings; more naked than if I had not been wearing them. I was deliciously ready and could feel the moisture between my legs.

Lionel had watched me strip. His lust was obvious, his pupils wide, his lips moist.

"Strip for me, Lionel. I want to watch you. And when you've stripped, I'm going to fuck you silly."

He didn't need to be asked twice. He took his jacket off and put it on the chair, and then in order, his shoes, socks, bow tie, shirt, and trousers. He stood in front of me in just his underpants and looked me directly in the eye before stepping out of them.

His body was just as I remembered; tall, broad-shouldered, narrow-waisted with muscular thighs, and a tight arse. His uncircumcised penis stood erect and ready.

I crossed to the mirrored dressing table and bent over it with my legs apart and showed him my slit. I had placed a free-standing Cheval mirror behind the dressing table where I could see myself in the reflection, and I saw what Lionel saw.

My labia, framed by my stocking thighs, glistened with my juices. My big round pale buttocks were proudly displayed for him to see, and my tits hung down below me.

"Now, fuck me. Fuck me hard," I demanded.

He stood behind me and then I felt him slide very slowly deep inside of me. Then, with a hand holding each of my bum cheeks, he started to move in and out. He was slow at first but soon his pace increased. His balls slapped as he pounded away and, in the mirror, I watched his lithe muscular buttocks drive himself into me.

He was not gentle, but I did not want him to be. As my pleasure grew, I became more vocal.

"Don't stop. Don't stop. Don't you dare fucking stop!"

And still, he reamed me. The only thing I wanted was my physical release.

"Give it to me. Give it to me! Give it to me!!

I want it! I need it! Oh, how I need it!!

Until finally, I climaxed; long and hard, as my body writhed, my muscles clamped and held him, and I screamed.

Ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!!

I wasn't finished.

He lay on his back on the freshly made bed and I straddled him. As I looked down at him he reached up and took each of my breasts in his outstretched hands and I started to grind my sex against him, slowly at first and then faster. My next orgasm came quickly. Soon followed by a second and a third until they were almost continuous. It was pure eye-rolling sexual bliss.

I rolled off him.

"Don't move," I said.

I knelt beside him and slowly wanked him, sliding the foreskin up and down over his swollen mushroom head. I kept him lubricated with my spit and was unhurried in my work, as all the while he gently moaned with pleasure. I took his flesh inside my mouth and tugged until I sensed he needed his release, and then I formed a fist and firmly held his shaft and stroked him fast. I heard him groan loudly, his shaft grew larger in my hand and pulsed, and streams of warm salty semen filled my mouth.

We lay under the bed sheets together.

"Is Mildred good in bed?" I asked.

"I wouldn't know. She wants to wait. You're the only woman I've ever slept with."

"You poor man" I replied. "We must make sure to give you some more a little later."

"Seriously, Victoria. There must be lots of young men like me. Why don't you open your bordello again?"

"Because at sea it was safe from the hands of organized crime. A brothel in the city would attract their attention. At the least, I would pay for protection, and at worst they would not allow the competition."

"I suppose," he said, and the conversation was forgotten.

Except it wasn't.

***

On the train back to Boston my thoughts turned to Lionel. My secret had now become our secret, and better still he was going to be in New York on business in two weeks and we would spend the night together again.

He had fucked me another two times the previous evening, doggy and missionary. He had been a gentleman and withdrawn before coming on each occasion. I looked forward to a new performance and started to think about what new tricks I could perform.

Suddenly I thought about our conversation regarding a brothel, and I had an idea. Maybe I could run a stable of hookers without housing them in a whore house. That way there would be little the racketeers could do. By the time I returned to Newton, I had a plan.

Edward was waiting for me on my return. First I changed out of my travelling clothes and had a bath before returning to the drawing room. It was there that I told Edward my plan.

"It could work, Victoria. But do you really need to do it? We have plenty of money."

"You can never have enough money," I replied. "Because you never know what is coming. And if I'm going to make money I'm sure as hell going to find an easy and profitable way to do it. Do you want to go out to work for a buck an hour? I certainly don't."

I spoke to Hans on the telephone and briefly explained what I wanted. First amongst my requests was that he try to track down the ladies that worked for me on the ship. I wanted half a dozen ready to start In about a month. They needed to be clean, pretty, and "honest." I could not, and would not, tolerate girls who stole from their clients or talked about them afterward. In two weeks, I would be in New York and would talk to potential employees then.

Two weeks later Mrs Dawson met Hans at the hotel. He had arranged for nine girls to attend interviews at fifteen-minute intervals throughout the afternoon, and they all appeared to fit the bill. He had found an empty office with a telephone and four ladies to work eight-hour shifts and man the line continuously.

My "business" model was simple. Clients would ring the service at the office number requesting an appointment with one of the girls who would meet him at his residence or, more often, discreetly at a hotel.

The only thing that needed to be done was to find the clients. To do that, three avenues were explored.

Firstly Hans contacted as many of the names in George's Ledger as he could. He didn't inform them who he was or how he knew them but simply supplied them with the service telephone number and what it was. I reasoned that men on the take would be unlikely to have sexual scruples.

Secondly, hotel concierges throughout the city were given the telephone number to give to guests who wanted female company. They were offered a financial incentive to do this.

Lastly, later that evening after a very satisfactory fucking, I asked Lionel to discretely distribute the number amongst his banker and society friends.

I estimated that my high-class girls could charge at least thirty dollars an hour and up, depending on the service they offered. I would take fifty percent. Nine girls working twenty-five hours a week would generate around seven thousand dollars a week from which I would take my cut. That was around fifteen thousand dollars a month after overheads, and I believed a conservative estimate.

***

I was well aware of the risk that some of the girls might be tempted to go into business independently once they had their circle of regular customers. To guard against this they were obliged to agree to work for me for a minimum term of two years or leave New York if they wished to quit and continue to work before this. Hans made it clear what would happen if they reneged on their agreement.

I didn't approve of violence but very rarely it was necessary. Most of the time the threat of violence was enough.

When a girl visited a client for the first time, a minder, waited in the hotel lobby.

We started business two weeks after I hired my stable of nine girls. By then I was back in Boston. I left the day-to-day supervision in the more than capable hands of Hans. I insisted that a written record of every appointment was made at the time it was requested. The record included the date time and venue of the appointment with the girl's name, hourly rate, and the length of appointment agreed with the fee due.

I suspected that some or all of the girls would try to cheat me, so I advised Hans to plant a few of his associates amongst the clients to ensure the girls were correctly declaring their earnings.

In the third week of business, Mary, a girl who had not worked for me before, tried to cheat me. She stayed all night with a guy but declared only two hours' fees and tried to pocket the hundred dollars difference. I couldn't prove the call handler was in cahoots, but Mary was treated to a sharp dose of the dogwhip on her bare rump by Hans and then told to leave New York on pain of more if she ever returned.

After that, my ladies stayed honest, but we continued to send the occasional ringer amongst the clients.

The business started slowly, but two months after we started, eight girls were working on average thirty hours per week and generating around twenty thousand dollars a month. This was a lot of cash to both keep safe and then convert to gemstones or gold. Every day, in the morning, cash was collected from the office where it was kept in a safe overnight. The cash was then delivered to Hans who, once a week, deposited it in any one of several deposit boxes dotted around the city. At random intervals of once a month to six weeks, Edward would travel to New York, collect the contents of the boxes in the company of armed guards, and visit the diamond district before returning, still under guard, to the train.

Once in Boston gems, bullion, and dollar bills were placed in a safe in our bedroom or left in various deposit boxes in different Boston banks.

By the spring of 1924, it became apparent that I would need more girls, and Hans put the feelers out whilst some of the ladies who worked for me also knew of ladies who would like employment. As was my habit, I returned to New York and met a further eight girls who were suitably qualified. They were all clean, well-dressed, beautiful, and well-educated. My earnings doubled overnight.

***

I had become Lionel's mistress. He had married three weeks after our first liaison at the Waldorf Astoria and we met at irregular intervals maybe eight or nine times a year. Whenever Edward was in New York, Lionel would be in Boston on business, He would always stay at the Buckminster but then visit me in one of the many other luxury hotels in the city where I would book a room. I would arrange this by dispatching Edward to New York whenever I knew Lionel would be in town.

It felt deliciously sexy to be fucking Lionel. I had slept with five men, three unmarried and two married. Of the two married men, one was my dead ex-husband George who had been absolutely crap in bed, and the other was Lionel. That made Mildred the first woman I had "wronged," and it excited me that I was sleeping with another man's wife. I don't know why. It wasn't that I needed to feel wanted. After all, Edward still loved me and had crossed an ocean during a world war to find me.

I was fond of both Lionel and Edward. I didn't love Lionel but loved fucking him. I was beginning to believe that I never really loved Edward; I had thought I did. I was beginning to understand that love for anybody but myself was probably not in my nature.