Another Man's Woman (Late Night Delight)

Late night Delight:

Another Man’s Woman

TGIF: Thank God It’s Friday

Nicolette Victoria Ashby pushed her vibrator away in disgust, she was tired of the damn thing and she knew it had been too long since she’d had sex last. Even her usual fantasies no longer worked to rev her sexual engines. She couldn’t even work anymore. Her writing had become more of a chore than the dream career she imagined when she started as a small nobody in the book business. But here she was, dumped, divorced and disgusted just five years after she wrote her first novel.

 
She and her ex-husband, Morris had separated almost two years ago, and they had finalized their divorce last year. Not to mention in that time Morris she assumed bonked his newlywed snow bunny bride six ways to Sunday and she hadn’t gotten laid in a while. To be exact, she hadn’t had sex in seven hundred and ninety-one days. Two years was a long time for someone like her, she enjoyed all aspects of sex with her husband and assumed he felt the same way during their marriage.

Now she was a thirty-two year old woman, who only made love with one man in the last ten years and she was unsure if she wanted to bother again with a relationship. She felt too far past her freshness date to compete with twenty-somethings in a club or bar. At her age, beer keggers were far from cute unless she wanted to fuck frat boys. Nicolette didn’t. But she was sure that she did want to get laid some time before she turned forty.

For that reason, she decided to take matters into her own hands. She was watching a late night cable show, Man Whores, and the idea grew on her. She never imagined she would take the drastic step of meeting a man for paid sex.
Women didn’t do that, did they?
But, she was a woman with needs and she was unable to fulfill them on her own any longer. It was actually much simpler than she imagined. No code words or tawdry online sites she had to traffic except to decide which man to order.

The man she chose, Ash, was handsome and virile in appearance. She knew why she picked him out of all her other choices, but she refused to dwell on the reason he had to be tall, tan, dark haired and grey eyed. Plus, with the purchase charged to her Black Amex, she wouldn’t have to fight Dominic Maxwell, her accountant, for such a gratuitous waste of funds, as he would put it.

All she had to do was make a simple phone call and the rest was taken care of without any work on her part.
 
The company was called Men 4 You, and only required she email the owner with her contact information. The proprietor called her to get the specifics from her about the “date” she wanted for the night and her credit card by phone. The purchase would be for five thousand dollars for a weekend of said males’ time and hopefully she could have all of the pleasure she could stand and then some.

Nicolette was sure that she could get several good orgasms and maybe a few laughs if she was lucky. And at least this way she didn’t have to worry about the obligatory, “Buy you a drink” at the bar from some scruffy man who wasn’t fit to lick her boots. If men even did that anymore. Based on what she saw on the little bit of television that she watched, men no longer asked women out.

It seemed more like men wanted to grope and dance with a girl, then hustle her away for a wham-bam, thank you ma’am. No thanks. At least this way, she was in control. As age old sage wisdom went, she knew one thing about it and two things for sure.
He that has the gold makes the rules
. At least this time, when she got used, she knew exactly how much it would cost. A measly few grand. That was chump change compared to what Morris got from her in their divorce.

It still burned that she had to pay her ex and she got away cheap compared to what originally asked for in the settlement. But that was water under the bridge as her granny would have said. She got out of bed, she was too excited to sleep and she was going to pack for her weekend away with a gigolo. When she dug out her favorite bikini and wrap to place them in the bag, she felt a sense of shame. What kind of lady was she now? What would possess her to hire a man to be her boy toy?

It wasn’t that women were unlikely to purchase a prostitute. It was that
she
didn’t do that. Or rather she was too proper to act with base lustful intent. Nicolette was the sensible one. She was the one who always said the right thing, did the right thing. She was the one who made sure that even when a situation was a pile of moldy lemons, her guests only drank lemonade and they never saw the rotted rinds.

The thought of her “sensible” nature was enough to make her continue packing, now even faster. When she was finished she had a mess of clothes in a surly pile atop her Louis Vuitton luggage. Then she looked at what was in the mess and realized that there wasn’t even one cohesive outfit there. Fuck it, Nicolette thought as she walked away from the disorganized wads of fabric, only suntan lotion and makeup it is. I’ll buy more clothes when I get there.

The following morning, Nicolette was just ten feet from her front door and as promised, she was sans luggage. The phone rang, and she realized it was her cell, which wasn’t with her. It was with her purse, and her tickets. She was so addlepated from lack of sleep that she almost went to the airport with nothing more than her car keys and her makeup bag. She shrugged the drowsies off and collected her purse. She snatched her finicky Samsung 4G out of her Herm
è
s Birkin bag and sighed. It was Maxwell, what did he want now?

She called him back, since he tended to be a bit snappy with her if she didn’t return his calls promptly. It was his thing and since he made her so much money, she made the time to speak when he called. It certainly wasn’t because his voice was akin to dark chocolate.

“Where are you going this weekend, Nicolette?” His voice was deep and way too sexy for a man who wore starched neckties.
“That doesn’t matter, Maxwell. Why? Is there a finance conference this weekend about the end of the US dollar or something?”

“You’d like that wouldn’t you? But you still haven’t answered my question.”

“I’m headed to the beach.”

“Which one?”

“Does this have a point?”

“I was just wondering since I reviewed your Amex statement and saw you bought the tickets. Not to mention the purchase I had stopped for fraud today.”

Nicolette felt her heart stop, did he? If he placed a hold on her transaction then she was screwed out of her weekend of sex for sure. Dammit! How the hell could such a mild mannered man fuck up a wet dream? But she had to ask anyway. “What purchase was that pray tell?” Please don’t let him say—

“It was for plumbing service. A company called ManPower.”
 
Damn it! Damn it! Damn it! He did. She stomped her feet and jumped twice, but she was still angry when she was done with the tantrum. He tore her whole fun in the sun and humid sex fantasy to shreds and burned the scraps left over into ash. Maybe she could call the proprietor back and see if he would take her check instead.

“Are you there?”

“Yes, I’m here.” I hate you, I hate you, she thought. Damn you, to the bottom of the sea with the Kracken and Ursula from the Little Mermaid.

“So are you about to leave now? I’m around the corner and I thought I would give you a ride to the airport.”

“Sure.”
 
She said, but she thought, damn you, I bet you haven’t been alone for two years.

“Just give me twenty minutes.”

“Thanks.” Nicolette hung up the phone. She may as well pack a bag and her vibrator now since she wasn’t getting laid. Again.

The bag was packed quicker than she thought as she just used the case she crammed together last night. Nicolette didn’t care what she looked like. There wasn’t anyone she was trying to impress anyway. All she needed was one suitcase and it was jammed full of workout gear and one indulgent bikini. She wasn’t one for sunshine anyhow, but just in case she made the effort to see the sands in person, she had an outfit.

Maxwell pulled into her driveway and she hopped in his car before he could he help her inside. The only thing he was able to be gentlemanly about was her bags which were easily stowed away in the trunk.

“I must be paying you too much or you’ve decided embezzlement is the life for you.”

“You like my new car?” Fucktard.

“No, I don’t.” But she was lying. The Cayenne Turbo screamed luxury and she was immersed in the shiny leather interior on sight. He was a jerk for what he had done, even though he had no idea what damage his “helpful” reversal to her card had wrought. Maybe it was for the best, she thought, you probably wouldn’t have gone through with your terrible idea anyway. He smiled at her before he put his aviator shades on and they pulled away from the front of her house, headed for Highway 74.
 
 

Gigolos and Jealousy

Dominic Maxwell asked himself what the hell he was doing. Here he was with the woman of his dreams and he felt twelve green shades of shitty. It was no one’s fault but his. He knew what Nicolette was up to. He was a pretty smart guy and he had seen too many accounts with charges similar to the one that she had on her card. He bet anything that she had no idea he knew what she was up to with Manpower.

He had watched the beauty from afar for years, ever since the first book was released. She was an introduction from a friend of a friend. His agency was booming at the time, enough to the point where he had to expand. But because he had a hard time trusting other people with his client’s money, he kept the number of accounts he handled to a small group to ensure control and quality in the services he provided. The sole reason he even met with Nicolette was because a good friend of his asked him to. He agreed to be her financial consultant because she was going to be a small client and at best a fraction of a percent of the net monies that he handled per year. But she ended up being one of his largest personal accounts just a few years later.