A Proposal Most Indecent 02-03

Chapter 2

Francine stepped out of her car and checked the address on the card. She hadn't been sure what she expected, but it wasn't an opulent three story building in an affluent neighborhood. She tried to muster the confidence she had last night but had difficulties. What seemed reasonable late at night after the best orgasm of her life didn't seem so reasonable in the bright morning light. Still, she resolved to be here and she didn't intend to back down now.

A short walkway split the postage sized yard in half. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath to steady her hammering heart. It took her an hour to choose the conservative suit she had on. Well, decide was a bit of a stretch. The gray on white outfit happened to be the last thing she tried on before running out of time.

They made her come her brains out then left a business card. What was up with that? Did she come here to get laid again or to talk about something completely different. Only one way to find out. She took a deep breath then looked up and down the tree lined street. Her finger shook a little as she rang the doorbell.

"Francine! I'm so glad you made it!" Cleo opened the door then stepped out to give Francine a hug. "I have to admit I doubted you'd come."

"Why am I here?" Francine followed her best friend into a small reception hall. A flight of stairs sat across from the door. "Are you going to . . . you know . . . again?" She glanced to her right and saw a modern and well equipped kitchen.

Cleo ignored her question as she led her left, into an expensive and formal sitting room.

"Ah, Francine, I knew you'd come." Sam stood up from the chair he lounged in and crossed the room to shake her hand.

"Liar," said Cleo. "He was as uncertain as me."

A second, much younger man stood up and shoved his hands in his pockets. He looked about as average as possible, and favored her with a shy smile, but didn't quite meet here eyes.

"Let me introduce you to James. James, this is Francine."

"Hello." The young man pulled his hand out of his pocket and started to extend it in her direction then hesitated. He tried to smile, but it looked more like a nervous grimace. He started to pull his hand back, then thrust it toward her a little further, then hesitated again.

Francine took pity on him and gave his hand a firm shake. "Glad to meet you, James." She placed him in his early twenties.

"Pleasure," he mumbled then took his hand back.

"Please, sit." Sam gestured to a chair which Francine accepted. Once she sat down everyone else took their seats.

"I have to know." Cleo leaned forward in her chair and stared at Francine with an intense, unblinking stare. "Did you enjoy last night?"

"Cleo, behave." Sam scowled at her.

"Don't look at me like that, you want to know as bad as I do."

"Yes, but Francine needs her space. I'm sure what happened last night has made her unsure of herself and her place in the world. We need to have patience."

"I..." Francine's cheeks heated almost painfully and she suddenly felt as shy as James. "I did. I enjoyed it very much."

"I'm glad." Sam's posture relaxed and a relieved smile played across his handsome features. "I have to admit I had concerns you'd react bad. No, not bad, but be angry with us."

"Why would I be angry?"

"We practically raped you."

Francine's nervousness escaped in a high pitched laugh. "Not hardly. I..." she wanted to say she came harder than she ever had before, but couldn't force the words past her lips. "I didn't feel raped."

"I knew you wouldn't," said Cleo.

"Cleo, we agreed I do the talking."

"I know, but-."

"No buts. Will it be easier if you leave?"

"Asshole." Cleo sighed and slumped back in her chair. She didn't sound angry or insulted, just impatient.

"Eloquent as always." Sam smiled fondly at his wife. Their words may have been harsh but anyone who knew them knew how they played, and knew they loved each other intensely.

Sam turned his attention back to Francine. "I know what happened last night was unexpected and perhaps invasive. Did it cause any problems with Will?"

"No!" Francine snapped her mouth closed on the blatant lie, though she didn't know what made it a lie. Sam looked at her with patience and gave an encouraging smile. Cleo opened her mouth but at the last moment forced herself to silence. James looked like he'd rather be in a combat zone.

Francine thought back to last night after the party. They arrived in different cars so they didn't suffer an uncomfortable ride home, but William's silence when they got ready for bed was crushing. "It didn't cause any problems we didn't already have." Away from the party, Francine felt awkward in the sexy dress. In an attempt to appease William, she changed out of it into her uncomfortable, concealing night gown . When she walked out of the bathroom, she found him staring at the dress. She had never seen such a look of contempt on his face before. Without a word he walked out of the house and Francine hoped he spent the night at a hotel. For all she knew he crashed and died; she couldn't relax until the next morning when she called his office and knew he arrived safe. "If anything, it made me see them clearly."

"I'm sorry to hear that, but I hope you understand it doesn't come as a surprise."

"No shit," said Cleo. "The man is a jerk."

"Cleo!" Sam's voice held real heat, more anger than Francine ever heard before.

Cleo flinched but nodded her head. "I'm sorry. I like Will, I really do, but the-."

"That's enough, Cleo." Sam didn't sound angry anymore but his voice held a definite tone of warning.

"I know, I know." Cleo sounded contrite and her gaze fell to the floor. "Sorry Francine, I didn't mean to insult your husband."

"It's ok," said Francine, wondering what was going on.

"What Cleo should have said is we see how Will treats you and we think it isn't right." Sam glanced at Cleo who nodded her agreement. "We both like him, in fact he's my best friend. But the love I have for him doesn't blind me to the way he treats you."

"It's just-."

"Stop," said Sam. "Francine, you don't need to defend him, I'm not attacking him. I love the man, but I can tell he doesn't love you the way he should. I want you to think about my next question before you answer it. You came your brains out last night. There's no denying it. My question is, do you want to come like that again?"

"Yes." Francine didn't need to think about it, she needed to re-experience what she felt last night more than she wanted her next breath. "Yes." She ignored the twinge of guilt worming through her stomach. She hated the resentment she felt for William, but knew the truth and refused to deny it to the people she felt safest around. "I want to feel that way again."

"I'm glad." Sam finally broke eye contact with Francine and exchanged a look with his wife. He looked relieved and a little eager. Francine couldn't decipher what that look meant but expected she'd find out soon enough. Cleo nodded and settled back into her chair. She looked like she wanted to say something but kept her mouth shut.

"We've noticed changes in you recently and we think we know what they mean." Sam leaned forward in his chair and clasped his hands between his knees. "You're a very sexual woman and it's obvious you've been denied your sexuality for a long time. We want to give it back to you. Cleo and I think you'll excel at giving people we know sexual pleasure. In exchange for giving them pleasure, you'll be very well paid."

Francine blinked, not sure she heard right. She waited a few beats for the punch line but Sam's serious expression made her wonder. "Are you asking me to be a hooker?" A nervous laugh bubbled out as the words left her mouth.

"Yes," said Sam. Cleo nodded her head.

Francine tried to say something, anything, but nothing came to mind.

"It's not the way it sounds, but at the most basic level you will provide sex for money."

"We're not asking you to go stand on a street corner." Cleo leaned forward. The excited gleam in her eyes made Francine nervous. She wanted Francine to do it and Cleo managed to talk her into any number of things. If Cleo put her considerable persuasiveness behind this idea . . .

"Cleo, we agreed not to pressure her."

"I'm not, but she needs details. Of all the ways to put it, that was the worst! You make it sound like-."

"Cleo." Sam's warning tone cut Cleo off.

"I doubt you know me as well as you think." Francine stood up to leave. She knew she should storm out and feel indignant that they thought she'd trade her body for money. Yet these people were her best friends and the idea intrigued her ever so slightly. Coming from anyone else she would have been deeply offended, but from her best friends? She was stunned and unsure how to react, but she knew she didn't want to be a whore. "I think you've wasted all our time. I'm going to pretend this never happened."

"I completely understand." Sam stood up as well, ever the gentleman, which was ironic. The perfect gentlemen just asked her to sell her body.

"What made you think I'd even want to take part in such a thing?" Francine should leave, she knew it, but something stopped her. Whether she needed to talk through her confusion or needed to know if her friends thought so little of her, she wasn't sure. "Do you think so little of me?"

"Of course not!" Sam gestured to her chair. "Will you let me explain a little more? We're won't force anything on you. You're free to leave at any time."

Francine considered it, wondering what they could possibly say to take the sting out of their words. She wanted to leave but found herself settling into her chair. "I'm listening."

"We think you're an amazing woman and you're missing sex." Cleo gave Francine her innocent look that always put Francine on guard. "All we're doing is giving you a way to get it."

"Cleo," Sam sighed then turned back to Francine. "That's part of it, but only part." He settled back into his chair and steepled his fingers. "You know I met Will when I hired him as an accountant for my businesses. He worked for me for years before we became friends."

"What does this have to do with you wanting me to be a whore?"

"What businesses do you think he was accounting for?"

"He knew about this? It's . . . it's . . . wrong! I can't believe he had a part in this."

"He didn't know at first, but when he found out, he reacted much like you are now. I agree, prostitution, when women are exploited is wrong. However, there is no exploitation here. If you decide to take this opportunity you'll be your own boss. You can refuse any client you want for any reason. You can come and go as you please or you can quit when you like. Your husband insisted on inspecting this place and the other places I have. It took a while, but he finally realized I'm not a pimp using force or drugs to make some unfortunate girl service men. If anything, I'll be working for you."

Francine's mouth went dry. Now she knew why William never made love to her. "You said William inspected these places and talked to the women." She clenched her jaw to make her mouth stop trembling. "Does he use them?"

Sam barked out a surprised laugh. "Are you kidding me? As far as I can tell, Will has never so much as looked at another woman since I've known him. Even if he wanted to, he couldn't afford them. A least at first. He can now, but he's loyal to a fault. So no, he never touched the girls."

Francine slumped in relief. She prepared herself for the worst, even expected it. Knowing he stayed loyal to her meant more than she ever imagined. And now Sam wanted her to betray her husband. In fact she already had. Her throat closed off. She couldn't swallow, let along give voice to her grief.

"I know what you're thinking and you have nothing to feel guilty about. We ambushed you. You never had a chance to say no, even if you wanted to. If you're honest with yourself, you'll admit you didn't want us to stop."

Tears threatened to spill out of Francine's eyes. Sam was right, of course. The pleasure she felt was something she needed, something impossible to walk away from. She hadn't wanted it to stop. In fact, she still wanted it. When all was said and done, that's why she stayed. Despite her guilt, her since of morality, she wanted it to happen again. But she didn't know if she could live with herself. "You're right," Francine whispered.

"Don't cry, sweety," Cleo bounced out of her chair and folded Francine in a tight hug. "No one is judging you."

"Cleo, you need to sit down. Francine and I both know how persuasive you can be. You agreed to keep out of it until she made her decision."

"He's right." Cleo sighed and released Francine then returned to her chair. "This has to be one hundred percent your choice, no one can talk you into it. Sam will give you the facts and the details, then you need to decide for yourself. If you're talked into it, it won't be something you decided to do. Then we might lose your friendship forever which I don't want. Now I'll sit over here and be quiet."

"May I continue?" asked Sam.

It took a minute for Francine to realize he spoke to her. "Ya, sure."

"Will found out about this business. That's when I learned how loyal he is. That's when we became friends. I never imagined we'd be as close as we are, and that includes you. I love you both." He looked at Cleo. "We love you both, but your marriage isn't working. We all know it. We want you both to be happy, but neither of you are."

"Turning me into a whore will change that?" Francine demanded. She put as much heat into her voice as possible to hide her fear and confusion. They were supposed to be her friends, but she never felt so betrayed in her life. Yet she didn't leave. Did she feel betrayed because that's what a proper woman was expected to feel? Or was it easier to claim betrayal instead of admitting her true feelings: curiosity and temptation.

"Let me explain before you use a word like whore. Here's how it works. If any word comes close to a decent description, it's courtesan. I act as your agent. I already have dozens of clients who are regulars. Occasionally I find new ones, but they have to go through a very strict vetting process which includes health screens. I also make sure they know you are to be respected and not hurt. Clients who want dangerous stuff go someplace else. Our clients want passionate and personal sex with no attachments. They won't fall in love with you and they won't hassle you. Some of them might even become friends you'll continue to talk to after you quit. In fact, Karen, our housekeeper, used to do this."

"You mean she has . . . sex with people for you?" Francine's hand flew to her mouth.

"Absolutely not!" The vehemence in Sam's voice rocked Francine back. Cleo's outraged squeak made Francine feel a little ashamed. "She's a housekeeper. When she was a courtesan, she was a courtesan. I don't employ mistresses. If I want to use a woman's services, I go to a woman who preforms those services."

"Oh. Wait, you have sex with these women?"

"Yes, it's a perk of being their agent. So does Cleo."

Francine turned to Cleo. "You do? You're a . . . "

"Bisexual," said Cleo.

"I also have two men who do the same thing. Cleo visits them too," said Sam. "Can I continue?"

"Um, sure."

"Once a week I'll come by and give you info on each of your clients. We'll work out your schedule in advance, of course. Your clients will come here for their session. No session will last more than four hours without special consideration and a much higher fee."

"Four hours? What am I supposed to do for four hours?"

Sam shrugged. "Whatever the client wants. Share a meal, conversation, seduction. Understand, most the people who come here want a wife or girlfriend experience. Maybe even a mistress. What they don't want is complications in their lives. If all they have time for is a couple of hours a week to be who they wish they were, you'll provide it. Most clients want to be free of responsibilities, or to enjoy companionship with someone who won't make demands on their time, or threaten their position and reputation."

"How much does a session pay?"

"It's by the hour, but I won't give you prices until you agree to do it. This is something you'll do because you want to do it. Like I said earlier, we don't want to talk you into this or let money influence your decision. We want you to do it because it's something you'll enjoy."

"It can't be much if one of your girls decided to be your housekeeper instead of your, what did you call it? Courtesan?"

"Actually, she took a huge pay cut to be a housekeeper."

"Then why'd she do it?"

"It's her story to tell. If she wants to tell you, she will. All I'll say on the subject is she wanted a new job and we gave her one."

"You expect me to believe she doesn't have to sleep with you to keep this new, lower paying job?" Francine surprised herself with her own question. She normally wasn't so cynical. In fact, she knew better. Karen had her reasons and Cleo and Sam weren't the type of people to force a woman to sleep with them. "I'm sorry, forget I asked. I still want to know why you think I'd like to lay down so a man can . . . " Screw me, is what Francine wanted to say, but it seemed like a good time to be more forceful. "So a man can lay on top of me and pump his . . . cock into me until he comes. Why in hell do you think I'd like that?"

Cleo laughed then covered her mouth with both hands. "Sorry, I didn't think I'd ever hear those words out of your mouth!" She giggled again.

Sam tried to stifle his own grin but failed. "I don't think you'd like that at all. Fortunately, the job is about so much more. The whole point of this, from our perspective, is you need some satisfaction of your own. If you do this, you'll have as much pleasure, maybe more, than the clients. Most of them want a fantasy of sorts. Part of the fantasy is pleasing a woman. Part of the contract is you can't force it. If someone doesn't please you, you can cut them off. Believe it or not, you have all the power. One client is an exception. We can talk about him later if you decide to take the job."

"I have all the power?"

"Yes. When you say no, it means no. I'll have to ask questions to give the other women accurate data in case there is a problem with the client's behavior. Having said that, I'll never try to convince you to change your mind." Sam waited for a response.

Was it bad she didn't say no right away? Was she tempted to do this? Sam made it sound more like dating than prostitution. No, it made her an adulteress. William stayed loyal to her, she had to do the same. Then she recalled the intensity of the pleasure she felt last night. Not only the physical, but emotional as well. What she got from Cleo and Sam made her feel whole in a way she hadn't in years. It wasn't fair she be denied something so basic. She couldn't decide right now. Not when her friends put her on the spot to make such a life altering decision. Then her eyes fell on the young man, James.

"What about him? Is he my first client?" She shifted everyones attention to the young man to stall a little longer. For his part James blushed fiercely.

"No, he's your security. The suite of rooms in the attic are off limits to you. You'll have the run of the house except there. Those rooms are his. Every other room in this house has cameras, even the bathrooms. If I do my job right you'll never be in danger, but if I miss something, James will call the police and stop any misbehavior."

"You mean," Francine swallowed hard. No way could she do this. "You mean you'll make videos of me?"

"No, never. Part of the contract is discretion. James will monitor you, but never record. And just so you know, not one time, not once, has anyone ever needed security."