Dial a Stud: Dante's Story (6 page)

I found myself smirking down the line. One hour and they were her studs, but two hours, and suddenly they were mine.

“Perhaps if you gave me the hourly rate, I could work out how long, I’d like them for please?” I prompted her to give me a figure. Was she about to scare the crap out of me? Was she delaying telling me, because this was going to require I take out a mortgage on the house?

“Well since you’re a new customer, we have a special price for first time bookings. For two of our male studs for one hour would be three thousand dollars. If you book them for two hours though, you save money. The more time you book them for, the cheaper it becomes.”

My smile faltered a little at the price. It was three thousand dollars for a bloody hour? Fuck, for that price, they’d want to be the best lays of my entire life. Still she’d said it was cheaper for more time and she did recommend at least two hours. Did I need more time? How long did I need with the men I picked up at the club? Well, they needed less time than I did, since they generally got off well before I did. That was usually because I had to get home, or kick them out, then call on B.O.B for my orgasm.

“So what would I be looking at for two hours?” I asked, bracing myself for the shocking answer. I heard the sound of keys being hit, and guessed the woman was on a computer.

“Well as I said, it’s cheaper the longer you hire our studs for.” Ah, they were back to being her studs again. “Two of our studs for two hours would be a total of four thousand, five hundred dollars. Basically you’re getting two studs, for the price of one, on the second hour.” She announced it, like I was getting the deal of a lifetime. I wasn’t so sure about the deal of a lifetime, but I’d better get the orgasms of a lifetime for that price.

That made me start slightly. I was seriously considering, spending that kind of money to get laid? Not just laid; double fucked, filled up; done in both holes, stuffed like a Christmas turkey basically.

“You said you wanted the earliest booking I could give you?” The woman’s voice snapped me out of my daydream.

“That’s right.” I told her, waiting to hear what she’d come back with.

“If you’re interested in going ahead with Dial A Stud, I can get you a booking, either tomorrow night or the following evening, but it wouldn’t be until 10pm. Would that time suit you?”

“I’d sooner have tomorrow evening, thank you, and yes that time is fine.” I couldn’t believe it; I was seriously going to do this.

The level of gush rose in the woman’s voice with my confirmation of a booking. She had me and she knew it.

Chapter Four

“I’ll need your name, address and credit card details, thank you. Also for your own peace of mind, our studs are health checked so they are clean. They do not engage in any sexual activities though, without a condom. Oral sex will not be direct skin to mouth contact. A protective guard is used, so there is no risk of infection, or spreading of diseases. It is not just to keep our clients safe; our studs need to be protected too.”

I raised my eyes at her words. Condoms I understood. I never had sex with a man without one, but these guards she talked of? I wasn’t sure about them. Still, I would just have to overlook it, and not let it kill the moment. The studs were dealing with all sorts of people, and although their prices weren’t cheap, which would be more inclined to attract wealthier clientele, money was no guarantee there would be no issues of STD’s.

It was going to be a little awkward, I was sure of it, but I wanted this. The more I thought about it, the more I felt it was going to be worth the extravagant expenditure; just this once.

“My name is Grace Cameron.” I gave her my name in a clear, steady voice, effectively committing myself.

I heard typing, and Miss Gushy spelled my name out, as she typed, obviously so I could confirm, or deny the spelling. She then asked for my date of birth, address, and finally the credit card details, for two hours of stud service by not one, but two studs for the not so bargain price, of four thousand, five hundred dollars. I felt like Richard Gere making the deal with Julia Roberts, except the other way around.

“Alright then, it’s all done. Your studs will be around tomorrow evening, to spend some time with you. I will email you a contract. It’s just to confirm all I’ve told you, and it also protects you too. We guarantee a customer’s satisfaction, and by your satisfaction, I mean your orgasms. If you could sign it and email it back to me, before your studs are due to arrive, it would be appreciated. Oh and just one thing. Since our studs are respected members of the community, protecting them is important to us. You will see as much of their bodies as you would like, but they will be wearing masks to conceal their faces from you. Not all of them, but enough that they are not easily recognisable. I hope you can understand why we have this policy? When they are living their normal lives, they would prefer not to be harassed, by women, perhaps hoping for a free repeat performance.”

As I listened to this woman, the absurdity of the conversation began to filter, into my slightly wine fuzzy brain. These men and women were basically just higher class whores and gigolos, weren’t they? They weren’t celebrities, and the idea that they would have flocks, of out of control women and men after them, made me laugh.

“It is a serious matter Ms Cameron. Just as I’m sure you would not like our studs to be indiscrete with you, then our studs wish for the same consideration. That is why the masks are not open to negotiation. If you can’t accept them masked, then we will have to terminate your booking.”

I rolled my eyes at my phone. Geez, suddenly this woman was nearly ripping into me like a rabid dog. I got it, masks or no studs. It was slightly disappointing, to know I wouldn’t be able to see their faces properly, but then, maybe a little mystery would add to the moment.

“It’s fine; I don’t have a problem with masks.” I assured her, and immediately Miss Gushy was back.

“Wonderful.” She gushed, but a disturbance in the background, obviously drew her attention from me. I heard a male voice over the line, not talking to me. He was talking to her. I couldn’t hear what he was saying, as he spoke too softly, but something about his voice sent a shiver up my spine. Bloody hell, I really needed to get laid. I was getting all excited over a voice? My need for sex was making me go crazy for voices now. I wasn’t hearing voices; I was just obsessed with voices, sexy men’s voices in particular.

Suddenly the receptionist or whatever she was, spoke to me again. “I’m so sorry Ms Cameron. Something has just come to my attention. We can’t keep your appointment for tomorrow night. I know it’s short notice, but would it be possible to change your appointment, from tomorrow night at 10pm to 9pm tonight?”

At her words, my eyes shot to the nearest clock, which happened to be the cuckoo clock on the wall. It was almost 5pm. That gave me four hours before they’d arrive.

I swallowed around another lump in my throat. Funny how I’d been reasonably calm about tomorrow night, but this sudden change, had me nearly shitting myself. Did I bite the bullet, and do this in four hours, or chicken out and cancel?

‘Fuck it woman, grow a spine,’ the voice in my head sounded scathing.

“That will be fine.” I heard myself say, surprisingly calmly too.

“That’s wonderful news. I’ll get that contract ready within the hour to send to you, so please look out for it, sign it, and get it back to me before the studs are due to arrive.”

I assured her I would do that, and after her telling me to have a good evening, we hung up. The moment I was off the phone, the reality of what I’d done hit me. I had two men, two strangers, coming here in four…hours…time that would make it their life’s mission, to make me come; hopefully more than once.

As frightening as it was, I was kind of glad for the appointment time change. Mel had only left a few hours ago. She would definitely be gone for tonight at least. She said two days, but that might only end up being one, if her mother drove her so insane, she had to run from there, to stop from possibly committing murder.

Of course the downside, of them coming tonight, was it gave me little time, to mentally prepare for this. Still, maybe that was a good thing? No time to talk myself out of it.

At that moment, my laptop pinged, and I went to open emails, quickly finding the one for Dial A Stud. I printed the two page contract out, signed it, scanned it and emailed it back.

Another glance at the clock showed, I had just over three hours to go, before the men arrived. I had to eat, shower, make myself look presentable for them, and find something to wear. Bloody hell, I wasn’t even leaving the house, but I was worried about what to wear. These men were paid to pleasure me, but what if they didn’t like me? Men were different to women. A woman could fake it if she had to. A man, due to the way he was made had to get an erection, to fuck a woman. Did these studs ever have a problem getting it up? I rolled my eyes, at the path my thoughts were on. They couldn’t have a problem or they’d be crappy studs. They couldn’t be trigger happy men either. Trigger happy men, were what I called men, who were easily aroused and inclined to come too fast, or prematurely.

No, they wouldn’t make good studs either, so maybe they used drugs to ‘assist’ their performance? Was it possible they used Viagra? I had no idea if they only had to do this once a night, once a week, or whether they could have multiple women to run around servicing in a day. Did that mean the men were bisexual, and would have sex with other men?

I groaned, too many thoughts, too many possibilities, and really not something I should be worrying about. I was doing this one time, just once. I could afford it, but it would be crazy to pay those kinds of prices for sex, numerous times. Apart from the whole eventually going broke thing, the sex would have to be remarkable, to justify spending thousands of dollars to get it.

I looked over at the clock again, and realised I was eating away the time, with idle speculation and pointless worrying. I needed to eat, get ready and drink wine. Not too much. If I got drunk, that might make them cancel on me. I just needed enough, to mellow me out, enough that I wasn’t too spooked, by the time they arrived.

“Ugh, please be good looking.” I said quietly. Surely that was a given though, doing what they did? Still with masks on, I wouldn’t see their faces properly, so they would have to have bodies on them, to have my panties melting right off me. For a brief moment, Dan came to mind, but as quickly as I thought of him, I pushed those thoughts back down again. He was just an incredibly sexy stranger, who had entered my life briefly. He was not someone I should be thinking about. Not when I had two men arriving in less than three hours to service me.

With that thought running through my head, I made my way to the kitchen to grab something to eat, and give the wine something to soak into, so I would be just nicely relaxed for the boys, not falling over drunk and no slurring.

I wanted to appear like this was no big deal for me, and I had to try and appear, at least a little sophisticated. I was naturally accident prone though. My parents obviously hated me calling me Grace. I was about as graceful as an elephant on roller skates.

I turned to look at the time on my bedside clock, and felt nerves tighten my stomach, when I saw it was only forty minutes until the studs, were due to arrive.

I should have asked Miss Gushy for their names, but I’d forgotten to, once that man in the background had turned up, and then the appointment had been changed.

My attention returned to my reflection in the mirror. I’d worked on myself, with all the dedication, of an ‘A’ grade student studying for an exam.

I’d made myself up to give my eyes a more exotic look. Well, that was the plan anyway. Whether I’d succeeded, I had no idea. I didn’t have Mel here to give me the thumbs up, or thumbs down.

I wore a deep brown eye shadow, lash lengthening mascara, light blush, eyeliner and a coral coloured lipstick. I’d debated on the lipstick, but decided, that if they were like others in their profession, they wouldn’t kiss me on the lips anyway. Of course my vast experience on this subject came from me watching Pretty Woman, one of my all-time favourite movies.

Still, to wear lipstick, or not to wear lipstick, was the least of my problems. What to wear was my biggest one. What did a client wear for a double fuck? Did I dress more formally now and have them tear my clothes off and ravage me? I wish! Or was it a more relaxed, orchestrated affair, and they systematically undressed me, and then did their thing?

“How the fuck would I know.” I muttered to myself again. All I knew, was I needed to get my ass into gear, or I’d be answering the door nude at this rate.

I began a frantic rummage, in my cupboards and drawers, and then I saw it. It was brand new, one of those things I’d bought on impulse, then realised I’d probably never wear it, unless I was in a committed relationship. My track record for committed relationships wasn’t so good, so of course I’d had no opportunity to wear it. I snorted at that. No, my track record for committed relationships was worse, than not good, it sucked.

I pulled the blood red and black leather corset set, out of my drawer and held the pieces up. The corset was predominantly black with red piping. It closed up the front, with a series of buckles that were cinched up as loose or as tight, as I wanted them.