This story is an entry for the
Literotica 2021 Winter Holidays Story Contest
. Please also consider reading the other competing stories. As always, ratings and comments are very much appreciated. Hope you enjoy!
***
It was the kind of fairy-tale weather. The snow was falling down weightlessly, and the cloudy sky was invisible thanks to the darkness related to the season. It was cold enough for the snow to sit and not turn into that unpleasant slush that seeps through your suede boots and turns the feet into half-melted icicles. In the horizon there loomed a promise of the starry night sky but the quarter moon that was still swaddled in its bed of cotton.
This all fitted Irina's plans perfectly. She had the makings of a hopeless romantic and the Christmas season only enhanced her sentimentality. This was all in spite of her profession, which had always been pitted as the great threat to the ideas of love and monogamy in the public discourse. But at the end of the day, she was just a normal girl.
Irina had her own Christmas tradition, begun only a year before. Every year she would choose one of her clients and provide her services for a single night pro bono. Why she did this was purely out of love for the season. Christmas was her favourite holiday, one of love and giving. The night always ended up costing her dearly, but she did not mind. She always planned her surprises with special love and detail. While she was open to suggestions and respected the limitations set upon her by her client, she always aimed to make the evening extraordinary. As someone who loved surprises, she thought it was absolutely necessary that her client suspected nothing. Then, when the surprise would be revealed, the delight would be all the more greater.
Last year it had been a certain clerk who had been her very first regular: a single man in his 40s with a fascination for roleplay. Having known him for two years and listened to him discuss his various interests, she had eventually learned that he loved crime mysteries. After some consultation with some of her friends, she had managed to organize a murder mystery evening at a certain fetish club. To the surprise of all, it gained an unexpected amount of interest from the club regulars. A lot of people volunteered to play the various parts of suspects and victims. It was a night of beautiful corpses, scandalous affairs and poisoned butt plugs. It was such a success that it turned into an annual event, all thanks to Irina and her genius.
Irina knew that this year would be more challenging. Recently the agency had received a phone call inquiring about her services and prices. Irina's agent had the prospective client briefly interviewed. It was unusually young man, so young that the agent believed it necessary to confirm his age. She had thought it a prank of some kind at first, seeing as young men rarely had the money to pay an escort. This young man, however, seemed oddly determined.
Irina then had to discuss the details about the appointment: the where, when and whats, while also prying onto any particular desires or kinks that the young man would have. He was obviously fairly new to the industry, quite unaccustomed to the usual protocol. His concern about the prices suggested that he wasn't a man of much expendable income; indeed, he was curiously interested in the bare minimum package. Even Irina's agent told her that this would probably be an easy, one-off gig that would be over in 10 minutes. The odds of him being a returning customer were laughably low.
There was something about the solemnity in this young man's voice that convinced Irina that he would be the one to receive her special Christmas gift this year. His decision to take the cheapest possible package that Irina had to offer was heart-breaking, but there was apparently no way of talking him out of it, presumably because there was just no money to spare. Seeing as Irina wasn't overly keen on playing the part of an emotionless sex doll for quarter an hour, she decided to plan out a whole night of amusement, both sexual and non-sexual in nature.
Now Irina was waiting for her mystery date to arrive. Due to his young age (only 19 years!), she had decided to approach him gently with as little reminding him of her profession as possible. She was going to give him the girlfriend experience: a date by the Christmas market, a nice dinner at an excellent restaurant and a climax at a nice, classy hotel, where she had already brought all kinds of toys and equipment that could be introduced if desired. Up to this point the young man had been rather quiet about his wishes for the night, but Irina was certain that after a couple cups of sweet, mulled wine he should feel more at ease and find it easier to express what it was that he was after.
It was seldom that Irina got to meet clients out of doors. Because of the cold weather, Irina had been compelled to dress up more modestly than she usually would when working. She was wearing a light-brown wool coat and her blonde hair had been curled into soft ringlets. Still, a hat was only weather appropriate, so she had chosen to wear a navy-blue beret. Her look was finished by black jeans, a well-fitted blue sweater, lightly heeled boots in dark suede. Only light mascara and blush, minimal make-up. It reminded Irina of the outfits she used to wear for modelling auditions.
Had she wished to do so, Irina could still have worked in modelling. She had a tall, slender body and barely any breasts to speak of. Often her clients asked her why she had left that industry. Her explanation always shocked them: she hated seeing herself captured on film. Not once had she felt comfortable in front of a camera because the pictures never came out as she had expected. Even when everyone insisted that she looked stunning, Irina felt odd seeing herself immortalized. Still, she had to finance her legal studies somehow, and with no paid internships in sight, she had turned to prostitution.
And how she loved her secret side job! It allowed her to freely explore her sexuality and discover an entire world that had previously been completely hidden from her. Unlike guys her age, these men knew what they liked, and they were eager to share the joys of their kinks with her. No judgement, no attachments: sex that was more than just premature ejaculations and penetration. She was essentially being paid to have a sex life that most people her age could not even dream of.
"Therese?"
Irina turned around to face the young man who had called out for her. She had been standing at the agreed meeting point, by the statue of the boy wrestling a lion next to the cathedral. She had made sure that there was no chance of a mix-up. She had given him a lengthy description of her outfit. The agent had shown him her portrait. Lastly, he was to look for a girl named Therese. That was the alias Irina had chosen for herself. She was a bit of a Francophile, but she would not have been able to order a glass of water at restaurant in French, had she tried.
Irina too had received a picture of her client. The young man looked like his portrait: pale grey eyes, light brown hair, aged 20 or so. He was taller than she had expected, taller than her even. He didn't slouch like so many men of his age but stood straight and confident. Perhaps it was the kind smile on his face, but she thought him much more handsome in person. He gave her the impression of an honest and responsible man, but there was coldness to his character. It was the eyes, not because they were the colour of ice but because his smile didn't quite reach them.
"Yes! You must be Florian. Hi!"
She kissed him on both of his cheeks, the way French women do. In her experience, it was this kind of foreign haughtiness that usually eased these situations. She made an effort to act unlike any woman they knew. Therefore, or so she hoped, they would get the impression that she would not judge them like a typical woman might.
"Isn't the weather just splendid? I can't believe our luck," she mused to him, smiling. To talk about the weather was her tactical "mistake". If she was a little awkward, they too would dare to be awkward.
"Nice to finally meet you. You look stunning!" Florian said empathetically. It was a compliment Irina was used to hearing, but the way he said it sounded more like he appreciated all the effort she had put in her dress. Older men especially would praise her beauty to the heavens, compare her to a goddess or two. It was charming, if hyperbolic. In comparison, Florian's praise came off as reserved and business-like. A form of small talk. But that was young men for you: they weren't quite in touch with their feelings yet.
"Why, thank you!" she said regardless.
Irina had dressed more modestly for the occasion, thinking that a young man like him would rather be seen with someone who simply looked like a well-dressed peer of his age. No leather or falsies; just a normal girl.
But it did make her wonder... How come a young, perfectly good-looking man would find it necessary to pay for a woman? What was it that he wasn't telling her? He did not strike her as a sociopath, who made perfectly good clients, by the by. But then again, perhaps he was just that good of an actor.
"Have you already been to the Christmas market this year?" she asked him as they began to walk towards the entrance. The gate was lit by two iron lanterns with real candles burning inside.
"No, I... I haven't."