Another short tale in the Discreet Encounters series.
'Discreet Encounters'
the card stated in an elegant typeface.
'For those times when a woman needs a man for company'.
My forename and a mobile telephone number completed the message and a silhouette of an embracing couple made sure there could be no misunderstanding of its meaning.
Redundancy had led me to seek a new career. It was my occasional lover Caroline who had suggested that maybe I should exploit something that she thought I was rather good at. After a trial run with Caroline's friend Fliss, it was time for business and my first real client.
The phone rang and it was Fliss on the other end. At first, I assumed she'd called to make an appointment for herself but she quickly made it clear that not only was she calling for a friend but her request was also a rather unusual one.
Charlotte was, according to Fliss, a considerably reserved girl as far as relationships with men were concerned. Now she had been invited for a wonderful evening out with a group of friends but, with no-one to accompany her, she was proposing to decline the invitation. Fliss wondered whether I would partner her. There would be no sex involved but Fliss was prepared to pay my normal fee for the evening.
I was happy to oblige but I suggested to Fliss that it would be an idea if Charlotte and I met before we agreed on anything. It might be awkward if the first time we met was on the evening of the event and we found that we couldn't stand each other. Fliss agreed and said that she would arrange for the three of us to get together over lunch one day.
Charlotte turned out to be a very attractive woman. She was somewhere in her late 30s or early 40s, with neck-length hair that was such a dark shade of brown as to be almost black, eyes that matched her hair in colour, an appealing full-rounded bust, and a pleasantly curvaceous figure.
The lunch went very well. We clearly had enough views and interests in common to give us at least the basis for some conversation and we hit it off well enough. We agreed that she would accept the invitation for herself and partner.
The evening started with a concert at the Royal Albert Hall. The host obviously had contacts because not only was the concert an immediate sell-out but he had managed to arrange a box for the party. The concert was followed by a late supper at a very pleasant bistro nearby. Charlotte's shyness with men was obviously widely known and there were a few surprised looks when I arrived with her. Needless to say, I faced quite a few questions and, to avoid any embarrassment to Charlotte, I had to be careful not to reveal my true role in answering them. I simply introduced myself as having met Charlotte through a mutual friend just around the time she had received the invitation for the evening. I left it unsaid - but in a way that let it be understood - that our mutual friend had paired us up for the occasion and that not too much should be made of it in the sense of long-term prospects. Fortunately, all those present knew Charlotte well enough to realise that matchmaking would be a waste of time but there did seem to be some pleased and hopeful looks on a couple of faces.
The evening was wonderfully relaxed and convivial. I'm sure that Charlotte was a little tense at the start of it but by the end, the mood had embraced her and she seemed to be thoroughly enjoying herself. She had even become quite tactile, at least to the extent of resting her hand on my arm from time to time and, on one occasion, even on my knee. I couldn't help notice, too, that her bright, dark eyes lingered on mine to an unexpected extent.
When the meal and the evening finally came to an end, we grabbed a taxi and I gave the driver Charlotte's address. As the cab turned the corner into her road, Charlotte turned to me.
'The very least I can do is to invite you in for coffee or a drink.'
The house was cosy without being cluttered. Charlotte made the coffee and brought it through to the lounge but then she excused herself and left the room. I picked up a magazine from the coffee table and began to flick through it. A couple of minutes later a movement in the doorway caught my attention. I looked across and Charlotte was standing there, wearing just a nightdress. The top part was made of lace, through which her firm breasts, surmounted by dark nipples, were clearly visible. The rest of the nightdress was of purple satin that clung to her in such a way that suggested she had nothing on beneath it.
I didn't know what to think. Was she aware of the arrangement between Fliss and me - that I had been paid to escort her to the concert? I was sure that Fliss would have explained things, but maybe she hadn't made it clear. Did Charlotte think I hoped for a relationship with her?
'Charlotte', I started tentatively, not wanting to upset her, 'didn't Fliss explain...?'
'Oh yes, you're a professional escort and Fliss paid for your services this evening. I know.'
She walked across the room and perched on the edge of the sofa next to me. She reached out with her hand and placed it on top of mine.
'I'm a virgin', she said, looking me straight in the eye, 'and I don't want to be any more.' I must have looked quizzical because, after pausing briefly, she went on. 'My parents had a dreadful relationship and that put me off any thought of getting involved with someone. I had a few boyfriends when I was younger but I found I was constantly watching for the slightest sign that things were going wrong. It always put a damper on anything further developing. One boyfriend actually told me he felt he was on trial the whole time he was with me and he couldn't take it. It's not that I don't want sex - I really do - but I've always assumed that sex might lead on into a relationship that I wouldn't be able to cope with.'
'And, presumably, it would be different with me because there's no question of a relationship?'
She nodded. 'That's what I understood from Fliss. Please don't be annoyed with her but she told me a bit about you and her and your arrangement. I promise I won't tell anyone.'
She paused, a look of slight awkwardness coming over her face.
'I'd better mention it, in case you wonder', she added. 'I'm not really a virgin, not in the physical sense, anyway. I have a few toys. As I say, it's not that I don't like sex. And, just to add to my embarrassment, I've been getting very wet all evening in your presence so would you mind very much if we abandoned the coffee and went straight to bed? I'm not sure that a toy will give me what I need at this moment.'
