Call Girl Confidential Read Online Free Page A

my first encounter as Ashley, and I was terrified. I had no idea what to do, really.
    I noticed he had a bit of gray at his temples, and he seemed pleasant enough. “Would you like a drink?” he asked.
    â€œJust a Coke, if you have it,” I said. What a joke. He could have whatever he wanted at the Parker Méridien. Including, apparently, me.
    He had a suite, with a modern Scandinavian dining table, artall over the walls, and a living room overlooking the lights of New York City. It was bigger than my apartment. He led me to the sofa, and I wondered if he could tell if I was nervous.
    â€œYou sure you don’t want a little Jack Daniel’s in your soda?” he asked as he handed it to me. “I thought I detected a drawl, and I know Southern girls like their bourbon.”
    Did all the other girls drink a lot? I wondered. Did they party, do drugs? Was I supposed to do that too? Kristin hadn’t warned me about this. I was never one to get drunk or do drugs, and I was improvising as I went along.
    â€œNo, this is fine, thanks,” I said, and he proceeded to ask me where I was from, what I was doing in New York. Basically he asked me all about myself, and I chattered on nervously. I didn’t tell him I had a daughter. I didn’t tell him why I was doing this, and he didn’t ask. I asked him about himself, and he said he was with an oil company that was exploring other sources of energy. Not for how it would help the planet, but because it would create other revenue streams for the company. He asked me if I’d heard which shows on Broadway were getting good reviews. He took his time and acted as if he didn’t have a care in the world, and he didn’t seem to notice that we had been chatting for nearly an hour.
    After a little while, though, he did become restless, and I knew that he needed something a bit more entertaining.
    â€œI notice that you brought a bag along with you,” he said. “Would you mind sharing what you have in there with me?”
    Blood rushed to my face. I knew from Kristin’s bag-of-tricks talk that for this client that meant modeling lingerie for him. Kristin had encouraged me to put it on in the bathroom and strut out with the seductive confidence of Sharon Stone in Basic Instinct .
    I honestly would have preferred to be shot at that moment. I was way too shy. I smiled nervously and slipped off into the marble bathroom and locked the door.
    I must have spent fifteen minutes in there, changing. I was terrified.
    â€œDo you need any help in there?” he called. “Or should I just get naked and come in there and we can take a shower together?”
    â€œI’ll be right out!” I squeaked.
    I unlocked and slowly opened the door. I was wearing a black-and-flesh-colored lace push-up corset and garters with black stockings and five-inch heels. He was extremely pleased. I started to talk flirty and even a little dirty, and he became . . . even happier.
    He asked for me to keep it all on and he lifted me off the ground and effortlessly placed me on the bed. He left his shirt and tie on, and I saw that he had begun to sweat. He unbuckled his belt with one hand without looking, and his pants dropped down.
    He wasn’t wearing any underwear, and I could see how hard he was. And then, after all my anxiety, it was over in less than two minutes.
    He finished and threw himself on his back next to me, breathing as if he had just run the New York Marathon.
    Then I just got up, picked up my things, and got dressed. He paid me in cash and said, “I hope to see you again on my next trip,” as he helped me on with my coat. He led me to the door, and just before I went out he kissed my hand. He was a gentleman—unlike several famous clients I was yet to meet. But I had crossed a line that night. I had lost . . . innocence.
    Could I do this again? I asked myself as I descended in themirrored elevator, regarding my