Chapter Seven: The Sheik
Ella sat quietly in the corner, nervously rolling her drink around the inside of her glass. She'd stumbled across the Oxford Street wine bar on her way to the restaurant and decided to give herself the opportunity to gather her thoughts over a martini.
Except that she was now on her third.
The second had just been for a little more confidence, and when her thoughts still hadn't cleared, a third simply had to be ordered. After all, tonight was the night, the most important step in her new career. In just over half an hour she and Marilyn would be having dinner with the Sheik. A short time later, they'd be fucking him.
Her stomach was doing back flips at the thought.
It had taken a while but finally she understood the full picture. It had become instantly clear the moment she'd learned how much she was to be paid for the evening's work. It left little doubt about what was expected of her. At first she had been a bit shocked and taken aback, almost offended. But then she had talked it through with Marilyn...
Marilyn had told her she had everything it took to be one of the best in the business. Ella was a model, yes, but first and foremost she was an escort. She was beautiful, she had a stunning body, and she was an exhibitionist. So why not earn top money doing something she loved?
All of the beautiful models at the Secret Fantasies Modelling Agency were escorts, Marilyn had emphasised—high class escorts who accompanied their influential clients to whatever function they desired and then earned their money in the bedroom afterwards.
But that wasn't all, she'd gently explained. Some of the models were porn stars, too. That thought was just so appealing to Ella...
Part of it was the sex, undoubtedly, but the huge financial rewards were another factor. Ella could retire even quicker than she had originally thought possible, with plenty of money to spare. The more Marilyn explained, the more Ella prompted her about the possibility of a screen test. She'd arrange it in good time, she'd explained, but only after their forthcoming assignation with the Sheik.
The Sheik!
Ella found herself trembling at the thought of what lay in store. She was normally very confident, sometimes too much so, but even she felt almost a little out of her depth with this particular sexual encounter. Thank goodness that Marilyn would be with her tonight. It turned out that the blonde was a favourite of the Sheik's and that wasn't any surprise to Ella. Which man didn't want to fuck Marilyn Monroe? Especially the dirtier, sluttier, sexier version Ella had be-friended.
But Ella was aware that the Sheik had asked for her, too. Marilyn said it was an enormous compliment. He'd seen the photographs from both of her shoots and was paying extra because she hadn't—yet—been with any other client. He wanted her professional 'virginity' apparently.
Ella still blushed at the thought.
She finished the rest of her martini and then signalled for another. Would that really be her fourth? She was normally such a lightweight but today the drink didn't seem to be fazing her at all.
The shameful thing was that even if the Sheik hadn't been paying so well, more money than she would have earned in a couple of years at her previous job—and tax free—she would probably still be here. Marilyn had dangled the final incentive. The Sheik was a member of the Middle East's aristocracy. Who would have thought it ... a girl from such a troubled background in the Inner City estates being fucked by a member of a royal family? Who knows—maybe Prince Harry would be next?
Ella laughed out loud at the thought, but then covered her mouth to hide her embarrassment as she attracted attention from a couple of nearby tables. She might have stopped at the wine bar to steady her nerves, but she couldn't get her mind off the evening ahead.
She checked her reflection in the glass-tiled pillar across from her seat. Was it just her mood that made her look particularly sexy tonight? She fluffed her already bouncy, back combed hair for effect as she smiled wickedly to herself. Marilyn had told her that the Sheik wanted classy and her white dress suited the occasion perfectly.
Her underwired bodice cupped her already pert breasts and lifted them up to increase her cleavage. There really was no need for a bra with this dress. Beyond that, the body clung like a lovers embrace down to her shapely ass where it flared out, tightly enclosing her thighs down to her mid thigh. If it wasn't for the long seductive slit up the side that revealed her tanned thighs, the dress was so tight and figure hugging that she would barely be able to walk at all.
She'd only bought it this afternoon, along with the tiny ornate white thong panties she had underneath. So what if she'd spent a fortune, she could afford that sort of thing now, couldn't she?
Besides, she was certain her client would adore it as much as she did!
Glancing at her watch, she saw that time was running away with itself. Dammit, she couldn't be late, not tonight of all nights. That would be unforgiveable. She drained her glass more quickly than was sensible and chuckled to herself as she rose unsteadily to her feet.
Maybe the drinks had calmed her nerves after all. She was nicely warmed up for the night ahead!
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Situated one hundred feet above Kensington High Street, the Babylon at the Roof Gardens was simply sublime. It was one of the Sheik's favourite London restaurants and it was soon clear why. The decor, the atmosphere, the service and the food had all been divine.
Not that she'd eaten much, how could she when her stomach had been practically doing somersaults? Instead, she had focused on the champagne. They were into their third bottle already and the way her head was spinning suggested that her earlier martinis hadn't been such a good idea after all.
The only minor disappointment was that the Sheik was attired in a tuxedo, albeit an expensive one. She had half expected him to be dressed in his robes—Arabic men always looked so hot in their native dress. It was as if they were ready to carry you off into the sunset, back to their harem and ravish you senseless in whatever they way they deemed they wanted to.
Geez, she was half-drunk already and they'd only been there a couple of hours...
"Do you visit London often," she suddenly asked the Sheik, batting her eyelashes as she grinned at him.
She'd been much too quiet so far, she decided, and had allowed Marilyn to dominate the conversation. His gaze had strayed across her cleavage every time he glanced at her so why shouldn't she let him have the full effect of her bubbly personality as well as her sex appeal?
"When business calls," he smiled, sipping the expensive Pernod-Ricard Perrier-Jouet.
His gaze dropped to her tits again as he turned to face Ella and his warm smile told her he was pleased she was taking the initiative.
"Your agency is very good at catering to my needs when I'm here. It constantly amazes me, the way they continue to find such beauty."
The compliment found its way between Ella's thighs.
"Thank you so much," she stammered, staring back into those deep eyes.
