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Love Story Of A Call Girl

One last glance at him, one last glance at the penthouse suite, and then I was a minuscule creature below the grand marble arch entrance of the penthouse suite; the residence of the wealthy in the suburbs. Then I took a few steps further to the boulevard ahead of me. I dared not turn back for I might just change my mind and run back to his suite; knocking like crazy on his door, begging him to let me in. The breeze became more volatile the further I left the boulevard. I walked towards the coastline. Sand made its way into my ballet flats, causing my skin to feel its rough friction against my flats, but I was too determined to be distracted by it. Then I walked towards the rising tide. I saw waves; its crests subtle and light in movement. Now, at the edge of land and sea, the sun had yet to shine and the moon yet to fade away. I felt that I was here; I knew I was here; I could feel my joy and my sorrow; everything and nothing flashed before me. I brushed the flapping shawl away from my chest and touched the icy cold moonstone at my neck. I felt the weight of the world in a tiny moonstone; a stone which had been with me throughout my life, dangling in front of me like a sacred pendant. Gazing at the stone, I knew I could no longer keep it. That time had passed. I wanted to move on, and the stone reminded me of all that was; the pain, the joy, the sorrow.

LiNa_Author · General
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38 Chs

No, no and no!

"When you touched me like that, I felt safe." He said.

Colour rose to my cheeks. None of my clients had told me that they felt safe with me before. They had told me that I made them feel good about themselves and that they were satisfied with my services provided. They said I had a beautiful body. Quick, easy and no strings attached.

"I can make you feel more than just safe. I can make you feel..." I said, murmuring into his ear.

My lips skittered over his left ear, teasing his ear lobe with erratic pressure.

I heard him release an incoherent guttural sound. I felt him losing a bit of control, and I relaxed. I was used to men surrendering to me. I was used to taking charge, at least in the beginning of sex. I was good at foreplay. Let it happen, please, and then things would get easier from here. No need for all those awkward conversations. Let actions speak louder than words. I believed in actions, never words. Never promises, never undying declarations of love. How many clients have told me that they loved me only to dump me when they found a prettier one or that they were unable to leave their current partner? Yes, in my first year, I had a few stormy relationships with clients turned lovers.

My hands took a step further. I rummaged under his shirt, felt his bare chest. I felt the warmth of his chest and his beating heart respond to me. He did groan...but no, something was not right. He said no, no, and no! Three times in a row. He just had to emphasize it. I felt his sexual arousal. It was raw and very real. How could he say no? Was I not giving him pleasure?

He acted like I was not there. He stood up and steadied himself. He unlatched the sliding glass panels and headed towards the balcony. It was as if something or someone was luring him outside.

All his unpredictable behaviour rendered all my notebooks useless. I remained where I was and watched as he cast a forlorn figure of himself; his hands gripping on to the cold metal railings of the balcony.

"Matthias..." I called out from inside.

"Mr. Boardmann." I called out a second time.

He seemed not to hear me. Instead he was engrossed in his own world outside in the darkness which devoured him. The wind was blowing wildly. His collared white shirt flapped frantically in the wind against his lean torso. It was as if the wind was his unseen seducer; taking him on a voyage of sensations.

I did not like to see him like that. It was like I was losing him to the darkness. I quickly walked towards him and I stood behind him.

"Have I displeased you, Matthias?" I asked, rather softly.

I was aware that I could not engage him. This was a professional failure on my part. My body had failed me.

Turning sideways, he planted a light kiss on my forehead.

"I'm sorry that I am not up to it. I thought that if I got a call girl, sex would take my pain away and make me forget myself. But after talking to you, sex doesn't feel right. Could we just talk like yesterday?" He asked me.

His gaze was unwavering on mine. Despite the darkness outside, I saw a light burning in his grey pupils. This light drew me into the grey wolf's lair. There was something empty there.

"Yes, I can talk. I can talk a lot even. But I do not know if I'll make a good conversation partner for you. We barely know each other." I said.

"Oh, Lila, it doesn't matter. You don't have to try too hard. Why do I get the feeling that you're walking on eggshells here? You say you're not frightened of me, but you're not exactly a good actress. To give you credit, you do speak resolutely like you meant it. But it just doesn't work for me." He said.

His voice was utterly deep with some strong emotion. I watched him swear to himself a string of words which I did not fully understand. It was in Dutch and I only caught "godverdomme" and that could not be good. I was not sure who the swearing was aimed at. I thought of calling Pablo. My phone was in my clutch on the settee.