“Now, you need to take off your shorts. I need to see everything. Some women want a man of a certain…size, shall we say. And I have to ask, not to embarrass you, but I need to see if you can get erect here. Again, I need to know.”
“Sure, I figured this would be a part of it.” I dropped my boxers, so to speak, and she checked out my package, soft, and she gave an appreciative nod. Then, I needed to get hard for her. “Ummm, you don’t mind if I touch myself, do you? It will help. Don’t worry, I won’t masturbate. Just enough.”
Mrs Damilare nodded; I’m sure she had to deal with that before. So I stroked myself, thinking of Nneka in the front office, even thinking about Mrs. Damilare. I’d been with a couple of older women in my life. Sure enough, my 8-inch cock didn’t let me down. Within a minute or so, I was at full staff.
I stood with my legs about a foot apart so she could inspect me thoroughly. She even asked if she could touch me, and I said yes, so she put on a rubber glove professionally, and held my cock, then held my balls, and I couldn’t help from twitching in her hand and letting out a soft moan. She smiled approvingly before she snapped off the glove and told me to get dressed.
“I like what I see, Kayode. Your body is in excellent shape, and very fit. You could tighten a little bit, but it’s not necessary. Your penis is a nice size, large but not too large. Some women will ask me for someone very large, but more prefer a more…comfortable fit. And you can get hard without embarrassment in front of a relative stranger. I think you’ll do well.”
“Thank you. I’m looking forward to this chance, to make some serious money, and I promise, I have proper manners and I’ll always treat your clients right.”
“I expect nothing less. Let me ask you about your wardrobe. Is this your best suit?” I answered “yes” because it was. “Well, it’s nice but you need a better wardrobe. Do you own a tuxedo?” I didn’t, and I told her so. “You’ll need at least one to start and, ideally, three in your closet. You also need fine underwear.
I am going to send you to our tailor. The man will custom-fit you for five suits, a tux, a couple of pairs of shoes, socks, ties, and underwear. It’s rainy season now, so you will need a good raincoat and umbrella.”
“Mrs. Damilare, I can’t afford all that.”
” Don’t worry, you’ll pay me back. I’ll take half of your share of your earnings until it’s settled. If you do well, it won’t take long at all. Do you have plans for tonight?”
“No, but I don’t have anything to wear for your clients yet.”
“No, it’s not business. Well, it is. You’re going to join me for dinner. I will see how you are when you’re out with a lady. Just wear your suit and meet me at ______ at 8:30 sharp. Don’t be late. Never be late to meet one of our clients. I have a good feeling about you, Kayode. If we get along well tonight, I think we’ll both make a lot of money, and you’ll have a good time.” For the first time, she gave me a very warm smile, friendly, inviting, even.
She stood up and extended her hand, and we shook gently. I didn’t shake like I would with a man, but with a lady. And I do mean a LADY. She was a sharp businesswoman, but she was also classy with an elegant bearing.
It was 3:30, five hours before we were to meet for dinner, so I went to my apartment (almost a closet) at Yaba. I wasn’t exactly living in squalor. The neighbourhood wasn’t a bad one, but rents in Lagos being what they are, it was what I could afford. I carefully took off my suit and rested on my bed while I thought carefully about what I was about to get into. I could still change my mind; no money had been exchanged or spent.
Once I went to get the wardrobe, I would kind of be committed. I asked myself if I could do this — physically sleep with older women, not all of whom would be attractive to me. I convinced myself I could; if I had to, I would divert enough of my mind to think of more attractive women. I know that sounds kind of shallow, but a man still has to get an erection to ‘perform’. It requires a certain amount of attraction. I was sure I could do it.
More important, though, was SHOULD I do this? What would it say about my moral compass? How would I feel about myself? I guess no one’s parents raised them to want to sell themselves sexually, including my own. But I had to admit, the money as described was very tempting, and it could make life much easier. It would just be something I would keep to myself, never telling family or even my closest friends.
At 6, I took a shower and a fresh shave, applied a little cologne, and dressed again, wearing the same suit but with a fresh shirt, underwear and socks. I wanted to be sure I was on time, so I splurged and took a taxi to Victoria Island, where the restaurant was, and I was ten minutes early. Mrs. Damilare walked in a couple of minutes later and was pleased to find me there already.
We sat and shared a bottle of wine, and after we ordered, we discussed the job in more detail. “One thing you’ll like about this job is that you never pay, Kayode. Not for anything. The client pays always, whether you’re escorting her to dinner or a gala or a show or concert.
They understand this is part of the deal. And the women I deal with are always kind and never abusive to my men. If they are, I never deal with them again. So you need to tell me if they mistreat you in some way. By the way, you don’t smoke, right?”
“No, never. I really hate smoking.”
“Well, some of these women do smoke. You need to get a cigarette lighter. Not a Bic. A real lighter. Those who smoke usually expect the gentleman to light their cigarettes for them. So go to a shop and invest some money in a nice lighter and make sure it’s full.”
I was taking mental notes as we ate a very delicious meal, and I also could detect Mrs Damilare was flirting with me. I had a feeling that night was going to be my first test.
Sure enough, after she took care of the bill, we stepped outside (I held the doors and her chair for her each time), and she said: “Kayode, I’d like you to come with me to a hotel. I do need to know about your ‘abilities’, but I don’t want to take you to my home.
I never bring the young men I hire home with me. My private life is my own, and I never cross work with personal. And to be honest,” she said as she lightly touched my arm, “I am in need tonight. Are you ready for this?”
Her eyes told me not only was she hot, but my employment depended on what I did next. It was expected as part of the job, after all.
“Mrs. Damilare, I would really enjoy being with you tonight. I don’t have to ‘work’. I find you very attractive.”
She smiled appreciatively and said, “Call me Dami. It’s not my name, but I feel ridiculous if you keep calling me Mrs. Damilare.” We booked a taxi, and she told the driver to take us to the Protea Hotel, one of the finest in Laos. “I have an account there,” she kind of explained, even though I didn’t need an explanation.
We were mostly silent on the short ride, though she kept touching my arm, and I touched her knee. I admit, I was aroused. Dami was a very attractive woman; I didn’t lie when I told her so. A few blocks away, she turned to me and leaned in to kiss me, and I returned it willingly.
It was tentative at first, but quickly, our arms were around each other, and the kisses became much more passionate. I didn’t know if this kind of thing was expected from a client, but Dami wasn’t a client, and she wanted this. So did I.
We stopped at the desk, and they immediately gave her a room card, and we made our way to the 8th floor to the room. When we got inside, we took turns using the bathroom. Then we were together. And I was nervous. I didn’t have any idea how to start; if I was to lead as I would with a woman I was dating. It was a different situation for me.
“Dami, I’m not sure how to start this…”
“Don’t worry. The client will always let you know whether she wants to be in charge or if she wants you to take the role. I make a lot of decisions all day long. But now, I want you to lead. And I like men to be dominant with me.” Her eyes were brilliant with lust. I could feel her heat glowing off her.
I stepped forward a little towards her, butterflies in my gut, but with the definite stirrings of an erection in my trousers. I took her in my arms and kissed her again, darting my tongue in and out of her mouth, and she audibly moaned, letting me know she was genuinely hot for me, which in turn raised my own heat.
I helped her out of her jacket, then I took off my own and carefully draped them over one of the chairs in the room. Dami untied my tie as we kept kissing, and then she unbuttoned my shirt and kissed my chest as I became exposed. I shivered a little from my arousal, and I reached behind her to unzip her skirt, which fell to the floor.
She was very sexy in her shirt with a pair of black panties and her heels. It was like she knew how her day was going to end when she dressed that morning.
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