They had been watching her across the crowded bar for some time. She had met the taller man's glance a couple of times but quickly looked away. He gave her a final lingering stare as he walked out of the door and back to his hotel room above the bar.
She saw him leave, a little disappointed and a little relieved. He was dark skinned, dangerous looking, definitely not her type. She hadn't been out drinking for a long time, and it made her feel good to know she could still draw looks from men other than the one she was involved with. Two years of occasional meetings and broken promises. She loved him, but it felt like the end was coming. Charlotte was abruptly shaken from her thoughts as the other guy approached her. Bemused, she stared as he passed her a note. The scratchy handwriting was difficut to decipher initially but she finally got the message. she scanned again in disbelief.
My associate would like the pleasure of your company for one hour. Ten thousand dollars. Room 304.
As Charlotte stared at him in open mouthed confusion, he placed an envelope down on the table in front of her and disappeared into the crowd. She stared at it for several seconds before almost involuntarily picking it up.With a nervous glance around, Charlotte tucked the envelope inside her jacket and made a break for one of the bathrooms. Once safely locked inside a cubicle, she let out a ragged breath and pulled out the envelope. Should she open it? Once the seal was broken, what then?
She took another deep breath, closed her eyes and unsealed it. Prising her eyes open again was surprisingly difficult, but when she did, Charlotte got the shock of her life. Inside was a thick pile of banknotes, a key card, and a small yellow note. In neat handwriting was a single line.
Leave it here if you prefer not to accept.
Charlotte struggled to process it all. They were broke and the bills were piling up. But this was, well, this was prostitution. Wasn't it? She sat in the cubicle trying to rationalise it all, staring at her shaking hands, trying to calm herself before emerging into the crowded bar again. The man who handed her the envelope sat in a corner, watching her intently. She averted her gaze, a wave of shame washing over her as she weaved her way through the drunken crowd to the exit. The night air was icy cold. Throughout the freezing journey across the courtyard, throughout the elevator ride, throughout her slow walk along the corridor, even now as her hand settled on the handle, key card poised, Charlotte didn't think she could do it.
John had always been fascinated by the idea of becoming a cuckold, and now, as his relationship with Charlotte was coming to an end, this was the time. It was a lot of money for sure, but worth every cent if the plan worked. The room was carefully prepared, with cameras and microphones strategically hidden to capture every action and reaction. He had found Jay through a website for like-minded couples, but he was the only like-minded one. Charlotte would never do this. But there were money troubles at home so maybe the fantasy could become a reality. But now as he laid silently under the bed, he almost hoped she would refuse. He loved her, and she was about to be lost to him. Then, a beep, the sliding of a lock and the door opened. He saw a pair of shoes slowly enter. Her shoes. The knot in John's stomach tightened to the point of becoming painful. She was going to let Jay fuck her. He lay on his back, concealed from view, twisting himself around to get a small glimpse of what was happening.
Jay sat lazily on an armchair opposite the door, wearing just some linen pants. Charlotte jolted as the door closed behind her and stopped in the middle of the room, eyes nervously darting between the bed, this strange man and the neon lights flashing through the curtains. He didn't rise or speak, just stared hungrily. Charlotte wore a smart checked business skirt and jacket, white blouse, nude sheer stockings and black heels. He looked at her shoes and motioned slowly with his finger. She stepped out of them, her dainty nyloned feet drawing an approving twitch from Jay's rapidly hardening cock. Under the bed, a similar reaction. He loved her in stockings, but she hardly ever wore them. Now, her stockinged feet were inches away.