Emma’s Story, Part 2: Emma the escort
Cory finished cleaning himself up and dressed as I put my bra back on and shimmied back into my dress. I could tell he was still a little stunned by the intensity of his orgasm, so when he was dressed I took him by the arm and led him out of the massage room and down the hall to the waiting room. As we walked I pressed myself tightly against him. When we got to the front door I said, “Thanks for coming, sweetie. I Hope to see you again.” And I gave him a big hug. While I had my arms around him I slipped a card into his hand and whispered into his ear, “If you’d like to see me again sometime, call me at this number. I also work as an escort. Remind me that I met you here and I’ll give you a special discount.” The card was simply printed with ‘Emma’ and my cell phone number. With that I gave him a quick kiss on the cheek and he stumbled out the door.
A few weeks later my phone rang and I head Cory’s nervous voice at the other end. “Hello…I’d like to speak to Emma, please.” If he had seemed a little nervous at the Hide-Away, now he seemed absolutely petrified.
“This is Emma. How can I help you?” I purred.
“This…uh…this is Cory. You gave me your card…” he stammered.
“Of course, I remember you sweetie. I’m glad you called. Would you like an appointment?” I asked brightly.
Cory hesitated for a second, and then answered “Yes”.
“Super. I said I’d give you a discount, didn’t I? You can have a full service massage for $150 an hour, same rates as at the spa. Would you like an in-call or out-call service?”
“Uh, what does that mean?”
“In-call means that you come to my apartment. Out-call means that I go to you, at your home or at a hotel somewhere.”
“I’ll come to you. I think that would be best. When, er, when you say ‘full-service’, what does that really mean?”
I almost giggled. Even though I knew Cory was about the same age as me, he seemed so naive. I’d better go easy on the poor kid. “It means that at Emma’s apartment there are no rules, so it can mean whatever you want it to mean.” I told him. We agreed on a time for the appointment the next day and I gave him my address.
“By the way,” I interjected before he hung up, “is there any special way you’d like me to be dressed?”
I could almost hear the possibilities running through his mind. Finally he answered, “Just something nice.”
My apartment is in the basement of a big older house, with my own entrance down some stairs at the side. The land-lord knows what I get up to down there, so he charges me $200 a month more than he ought to, but I don’t mind because it’s a nice little place and it suits my needs just fine. As you come down the stairs you come into the living room, which is where I do my business. It’s a dim, spacious room which I’ve decorated with lots of dark, rich fabrics and heavy furniture. I always have lots of candles burning. There is a futon with satin sheets in the corner behind a Japanese screen. Off to the side there is a nook with a small dining room table in it, and an archway leading to a tiny kitchen. Beside the kitchen is a door leading to a bathroom. On the other side is the door leading to my bedroom. That’s my personal space and I always keep the door locked.
I found myself kind of looking forward to Cory’s visit, and I put some thought into what would constitute ‘something nice’ in his eyes for me to wear. I finally settled on a dark red silk basque which made my already tiny waist look even slimmer and emphasized my round, full breasts. I also put on a matching garter belt and black thigh high stockings. I pulled a black thong on over the garter belt. That was a trick I’d learned at the Spa, if you wear your panties on the outside of your garter belt then you can take them off but still leave your stockings in place -- a lot of guys like you to leave your stockings and garter belt on. To complete the outfit I wore a pair of black high heels with a four inch heel. In short, I looked like sex on a stick and Cory was going to be one very happy guy.
At precisely the time we had agreed the bell rang and I looked through the peep hole to see Cory standing there. He had worn a shirt and tie for his big date. How sweet. I opened the door just wide enough to let him in and ushered him inside. He surveyed the room quickly, taking in all the candles and the satin covered bed in the corner, then his gaze fell on me standing by the door. His jaw literally dropped. I had never seen someone do that in real life, only in cartoons. I suppressed a giggle, reached out to his face and softly closed his mouth. While my hand was there I caressed the side of his face and playfully tussled his hair.
“Hi there big guy,” I said, “you look like you are glad to see me.”
Cory could only bob his head in agreement. He seemed fixated on my body, staring for long seconds at my tits pushing up from the top of my basque, and then letting his eyes wander slowly down my firm stomach to where the tiny bit of material of my thong disappeared between my legs. He took in my stockings and garter belt, then finally looked back up to my face. I gave him a big grin and said cheerfully, “Come on in and sit down. Can I get you something to drink?”
