For Services Rendered

Please do not copy or repost without the authors permission.

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It was 4:55PM on a Friday afternoon when the phone rang on Bob Prescott's desk. He considered letting the machine pick it up, he was just preparing to walk out the door and enjoy a quiet dinner alone at his favorite steakhouse. But on the third ring he thought better of it and lifted the receiver, "Prescott NetWorx, this is Bob."

"Oh! Uh, hi, my name is, uh, Jennie Sands. Your company does websites for businesses?" asked the timid female voice on the other end of the line.

"Correct," replied Bob. In fact Bob had managed to make quite a comfortable living for himself managing websites and networks for several large local businesses ... it was a decent living, and provided him with the luxury of working from home. "Is your company seeking to establish a web presence?"

"It's not so much a company as, like, a work-from-home kind of business," the voice said, sounding rather timid and inexperienced. Bob had heard this kind of voice plenty of times, it was usually people who had no idea of the costs necessary to start up a REAL business, and they always balked at his rates. He really SHOULD have let the machine pick it up.

"Well Jennie, I'm sure you can find yourself a free hosting provider online who can handle your business ... We generally only handle larger corporate accounts," Bob offered, and was about to hang up when the voice took on a tone of desperation.

"Please, um, Bob is it? I don't know anything about this online stuff and I REALLY need to get this website up quick, can I at least meet with you and see if we can't work something out?" Something in her pleading tone sounded incredibly sexy to Bob, and he allowed his single male mind to override his business mind for a moment.

"I'm about to leave the office for the night," he said, hearing an exasperated sigh before he continued, "but if you want to discuss it over dinner, I'll be at the Silverado steakhouse at 6PM." The ball was in her court now, and hell, even if she was 70 years old or butt-ugly, at least he'd have some company at dinner for a change.

"Oh! I, um, have to meet with a client myself first, can we possibly make it at eight?" she inquired. No, she's definitely not 70 years old ... and she doesn't sound butt-ugly, Bob mused.

"Ok, eight o'clock it is. When you get there, just ask the hostess to take you to Booth 17." Bob was a creature of habit (and an excellent tipper), and the staff at the Silverado knew it. Booth 17 was always prepared and ready for him at 6PM on Fridays. It was in the far corner and offered him a commanding view of the entire restaurant (not to mention its very attractive wait staff). He called the Silverado and asked Holly the hostess to change his usual reservation from six to eight o'clock for tonight, and have the booth set for two. Holly gave him some good-natured teasing about having a "hot date", and assured him all would be taken care of.

Bob arrived at the restaurant promptly at 7:50, dressed sharply in a crisp white shirt, black pants and colorful tie. This was not unusual, he always dressed up a bit to go to the Silverado. It was his weekly "treat" for himself, a nice atmosphere and a good steak dinner as reward for the week's work. He looked as if he could own the place, his 6'4" frame was maybe just a little round in the middle (probably from all those steak dinners, but he wasn't about to give them up), but he was certainly a handsome man, with short dark hair and piercing grey eyes. However, being 42 and single, and keeping odd hours at his home office (he always did his best work late at night), he didn't get out much, and he always looked forward to Fridays at the Silverado. He weaved his somewhat imposing figure through the tangle of people waiting in the front of the restaurant to the hostess stand, where Holly greeted him with a warm smile.

Holly was a sharp little blonde (Bob always found that contradiction in terms amusing), always to be found at the Hostess stand on Fridays, where she kept the crowds moving in and out swiftly and efficiently. Unlike the wait staff who had to wear the required uniform, as hostess Holly had more wardrobe freedom, and tonight it was the classic "little black dress", the kind where you were sure if she bent over, her ass would pop out of the bottom, her breasts would pop out of the top, or more likely both. There was a persistent rumour around town that job applicants for the Silverado were required to submit full length photos with their applications, and indeed every one of the hostesses and wait staff looked like they could do runway modeling in their spare time. This was another reason Bob liked to treat himself to dinner here.

Holly WAS sharp, and knew that Bob would show up 10 minutes early (he always did) and had made sure the booth would be prepared in time. She looked around as Bob approached through the crowd. "Where's your guest, Bob?" She seemed eager to meet Bob's "hot date", and in fact she was. She had always wondered why someone like Bob was always eating alone, he was a nice guy (although way too old for HER of course), and she was curious to meet his "catch". Or maybe it was just a male friend? She hadn't thought of that... but Bob never seemed to bring any male friends out to dinner with him either.

"She'll be arriving shortly ... she knows to ask for my booth," replied Bob, confirming Holly's suspicions as he followed her shapely and barely-covered ass to the corner table, smiling inwardly at the chagrined looks from the crowd, some of which had been waiting close to an hour for a table only to see him whisked immediately to a preferred booth. Should've made reservations, suckers.

The two were met at the booth by Sara, one of the wait staff. Sara was a fiery redhead who was already carrying Bob's drink (a tall vodka and cranberry), and a large Shrimp Cocktail, his preferred appetizer. She sidled into the booth next to him, giving him an exquisite view inside the silver button-down shirt which was part of the Silverado's waitress uniform. Bob noticed it was unbuttoned three buttons down, and wondered idly if that too was part of the "uniform" requirements, but at the moment wasn't overly concerned, he knew Sara at least was always unbuttoned enough to leave no question as to the color of her lingerie (today was hunter green) when she sat next to him to take his order. This part of the job was NOT customary, but Sara was no dummy, she knew Bob was always good for a $50 tab and a 30% tip, so she didn't mind making him feel as welcome as possible, and always made sure she worked the Smoking section on Friday nights so she'd be sure to get his table. "What's it gonna be tonight, Bob?" She hadn't offered a menu, but they both knew he didn't need one.

"Nothing just yet," said Bob, indicating the second place setting at the table. "I'll wait til my guest arrives, and she'll need a menu I think." Sara perked noticeably at the mention of a "she" guest as well, and Bob did not fail to notice the swell of her chest as she did so.

Mentally computing the size of the tip on a double bill at Bob's table, she made sure to lean towards him as she slid out of the booth, her shirt flapping almost obscenely open in front of him. "Alrighty then, you know if you need anything, it's already on its way. I'll come back when your company arrives," and left him with a wink and a flare of short ruffled skirt as she turned to go.

Bob took his time with his appetizer, checking his watch as it ticked by 8PM, 8:15, 8:30 ... he was about to call Sara over to place his order alone when Holly approached with another young woman in tow. Dumbstruck he dropped his last shrimp into his cocktail sauce, nearly splattering his white shirt.

The girl on the phone had said she was coming form a business meeting, but she looked more like she was ready for a night at the club. She was a full head shorter than Holly, about 5'2", and her straight blond hair trailed midway down her backless and midriff-baring red halter top. She wore painted-on white hot pants that made it clear to anyone observant (and Bob certainly was) that she couldn't possibly be wearing panties beneath. The rhinestone stud in her pierced navel glinted from the spotlight over the table.

Bob stood from the booth carefully, hoping to avoid any attention to his instantaneous erection. "You must be Jennie?" he stammered. "I'm Bob Prescott," he managed to say, extending his hand.

The blond took his hand rather awkwardly, shaking it timidly. "Yes, I'm Jennie Smith. I'm SO sorry for keeping you waiting so long, but, um, my appointment ran longer than expected."

No problem, thought Bob ... no problem at ALL. "Please, have a seat, and we can get dinner started and discuss business." He wondered exactly what kind of business Jennie Smith could be starting, but figured he would find out soon enough.

No sooner had Holly disappeared from the table than Sara was there with a fresh drink for Bob and a menu for Jennie. She took Jennie's drink order ("Just a Coke please, I'm not 21 yet") and whisked away immediately to get it, forgoing the witty repartee with Bob but being sure to stop for an animated discussion with Holly on the side before returning with the drink and to take their dinner orders.

Once dinner had been ordered, Bob figured it was up to him to begin the negotiations. "So Jennie, you're needing web design work?"

"Yes," replied Jennie, "and I know absolutely nothing about domains or hosting or email or any of that stuff, I just got a computer for my birthday last month and I can barely get it to do anything."

Oh God, thought Bob, this is going to be even worse than I thought. Why did I let myself get talked into even having this meeting? One glance up from his drink answered his question as his cock gave a lurch admiring the girl's smooth flat tan tummy and barely contained breasts, which he now also noticed were braless and at erect attention. "And what kind of business is it that you're starting up?"

At this question Jennie's tan features turned a distinct shade of pink. "Well, um, I guess you could say its, like, entertainment? It's kind of like, umm ..." she faltered, then leaned forward and whispered in a much lower tone, "I'm a freelance escort for discreet gentlemen who desire companionship." Bob could tell from the way the large words rolled effortlessly from her mouth as opposed to her previous speech that that particular line was well-rehearsed.

Well, this explained the outfit and the "business appointment" ... Bob found his mind reeling as he considered the fact that she had just made him wait two hours for dinner so she could go fuck some stranger for money, and that she rushed straight from getting her pussy plowed to grab dinner with him. The next question popped out of his mouth without thinking, "And how much do you charge for your, um, services?"

At this she turned an even darker shade of pink. "Well, um, it depends on what kind of appointment it is, but, well, my rates usually start at like $200 an hour."

"And you want to advertise your services on a website?"

"Well, I thought I could, like, get more customers maybe if they were able to like find me online and stuff." She replied rather meekly.

Being an older, single man, Bob was aware of exactly the kind of websites where escorts could be found, and had even availed himself of their services form time to time. But never had he encountered one quite so young or quite so stunningly attractive as the one he was now having dinner with. Because of this, however, he also knew that these girls were often desperate for money as well, and once again the business side of his brain kicked in and reminded him there was no way this girl could possibly afford his services. He remembered the site he had found his last "companion" at, a local site where all the "working" girls in town had listings, and gave Jennie the name.

"Oh, I've heard of them," she replied. "I used to babysit for one of their girls when she had, um, appointments ... she's the one who suggested I might be able to make some extra money this way. But when I talked to the lady that ran the site, she wanted like $200 a month just to put my picture up there and then wanted another $50 for every booking I got through their site! I don't really have enough, er, customers yet to afford that, and I really don't know if I want to pay that much of my money to someone who isn't even doing anything to help me, I mean, I'd just be another picture with all those other girls, right? And I thought maybe something that was just my own would be better." The long ramble seemed to leave her thirsty, as she then quickly drained her Coke. Sara was on the spot with another one, and tried to linger to catch some of the table conversation, but both Bob and Jennie remained silent until she left somewhat frustrated.

"Well, did you call anyone else to inquire about rates? My design services are not cheap, which is why I have mostly larger corporate clients." Bob was trying to let her down easy. His rates for web design started at $200 an HOUR, not $200 a month ... much the same as her own, he realized.

At this the blond slumped a bit in her seat, rather crestfallen. "I called a few other places, but none of them would handle, like, an adult kind of business. But I really need to get a website up because I don't have , like, any regular customers yet, you know? It's only people who, you know, heard about me, like from one of their friends. I only have a couple appointments a month, and that's not even enough to cover my rent and school stuff, so I've been having to work at the convenience store on the midnight shift to over the rest, and I like totally hate that fucking job and I want to do this full time so I can have spending money and like, time for myself. And the new semester starts in like two weeks and I don't have money for books or anything yet."

Bob took this all in as he watched the girls chest heaving with her deep breaths, the nipples poking out like pencil erasers (now that she mentioned school, the analogy came to him), her doe eyes pleading silently as her full lips rambled. His erection threatened to tear a hole in his pants. He composed himself, and thought long and hard before replying, his words chosen very carefully.

"Well Jennie, my web design rates also happen to start at $200 an hour." Her hopeful, pleading look changed instantly to one of utter defeat, and she was about to stammer out an apology for wasting his time when he continued. "But clearly you don't have that to offer. However, you DO have something to offer of equal value, don't you?" He allowed this last bit to sink in, watching as the blond puzzled it out in her mind.

"So you're saying, like, maybe we could, um, trade?" she looked at him rather wide-eyed, not sure if that's what he was implying or not, but sincerely hoping it was ... it wouldn't cost her anything then but her time, and she wouldn't have to give anyone any of the money she made from her other clients.

"Yes, Jennie, I'm saying we could arrange a trade. Many businesses make arrangements like that, where it saves both businesses money because they both have something the other needs, it's like the old barter system. You've heard the old saying, 'An eye for an eye?' I'm proposing an hour for an hour. For each hour of work I spend designing your website or teaching you how to use it, you could pay me not in money but with an hour of your 'appointment' time." Now that he had said it and laid the offer flat out on the table, he realized how ridiculous he sounded. But a look at the girl's face also told him that it just might work. He began once again to think about the barely clothed body sitting across from him, and how it would look naked and impaled on his now throbbing and leaking prick.

"Wow, you'd really do that for me?" Jennie's eyes were now lit up like Times Square.

"Yes," said Bob noticing that he was somewhat short of breath and his voice had deepened considerably, "I would be willing to do that for you, Jennie."

"That is like SO totally awesome!" she squealed, turning the heads of several neighboring tables as well as Sara who was on her way with the dinner plates just in time to see Jennie leap up and lean over the table to plant a lipstick-laden kiss on Bob Prescott's cheek, wrapping her arms around his shoulders..

Sara had to clear her throat to get their attention. Jennie startled and quickly sat back down, her face passing right by pink and turning deep red in embarrassment noticing all the people staring. Sara placed the plates down in front of them and gave Bob a great view and then a snide wink. "I hope the dinner is as 'totally awesome' as whatever you just said to her, Bob," she winked as she went to retrieve another round of drink refills. Jennie continued to blush scarlet.

"If it's as awesome as the server and the service, I'm sure we'll be delighted," Bob quipped, eliciting a giggle form Sara and putting Jennie a bit more at ease. They proceeded to eat dinner at a leisurely pace, now that the "negotiations" had taken place and concluded successfully. It wasn't until they were sharing a huge slice of chocolate mousse cake that Jennie returned to the subject of their meeting.

"So, like, how soon could we get the website up do you think?" she asked, her eagerness and nervousness again beginning to show.

"Well, I'm not adverse to working weekends," Bob mused, "but we'll need to go over what exactly you're going to want to post online ... Rates and contact information I assume, but if you really want to 'sell the product', so to speak, you'll need pictures too. Do you have any already shot?" he asked, already anticipating the answer.

"Ohmigod, no, I like, never even thought of that, shit!" The doe eyes were back, and she was a deer in the headlights. "I don't have ANYthing at all really ... do you do stuff like that too?"

"As a matter of fact I do, I often have to take pictures of various products for the company websites I maintain, so my spare bedroom is a makeshift photo studio, with all the lighting and stuff I need. I imagine if I can make an antique lamp look sexy, I can do pretty well with you," he winked.

"And I could, like, trade for the pictures the same way?"

"We can discuss that when the time comes, but I'm sure we can work out something acceptable."

"How soon?"

"Well, if you can come by tomorrow afternoon for the photo shoot we can have your site up and running by Monday."

"Ohmigod, you're like, my HERO!" she squealed, reaching over to kiss him again, leaving a matching lipstick mark on his other cheek and almost dipping her ample 34C chest in the chocolate mousse cake, again drawing the attention of several other diners.

Bob's cock was threatening to lift the table off the floor. He knew that setting up the website would take four or five hours solid work, and the girl's kiss and the softness of her body against his, even in this awkward position, had his mind racing with the dirtiest kind of thoughts about how he would be extracting his "payment". He again let his lower brain take over as he asked, "Do you think you have time to make a 'down payment' tonight? It's going to be a busy weekend for both of us."

"Oh, you mean like, now?" she looked a bit distressed, and Bob just knew in his mind that now that it came down to it, she was going to balk. He sighed as his fantasies of having his way with the tasty morsel across the booth from him evaporated away. Then Jennie perked back up and said, "Well, I was supposed to hang out with my friends Missy and April tonight, we were gonna try and sneak in to one of the bars where like, Missy knows this bouncer, I think she like gives him blowjobs in the back or something. But I can tell them I have work to do and can't make it. Cause this is like, work right?"