Satisfaction Guaranteed

This is part two of the Just a Gigolo story, find part 1 here. Part 3 here.  

I must admit I was pretty nervous, I suddenly noticed I was putting a little extra care into my preparations, after all I wasn't giving this away for free. That's right, I said yes, I wasn't going to at first, in fact my first answer had been no, but Christie was very persuasive, I said I'd say yes but didn't want the money but again Christie told me it was part of the deal. She told me Helen would see it as a business transaction, that money would make sure there was no emotional involvement - satisfaction guaranteed. Satisfaction guaranteed? Shit that put the pressure on, would she demand her money back if I failed to reach the expected standards? I suddenly felt the pressure.

When Christie told me Bryn had said yes I couldn't believe it. The bravado of the beer had worn off and now I wasn't so sure it was a good idea. I’d been complaining I hadn’t been getting  any lately and we could believe that it had been 13 months since my last shag, no wonder I was horny. We'd started talking about paying for sex, what a conversation, I wondered if anyone overheard us. I'd never considered it before but both Christie and Zoe had said they’d fantasied about it. We discussed what it would feel like handing over the money, would it feel seedy or dirty or just bloody exciting. We huddled into the corner of the pub so no one could see us and Googled male escorts on Christie’s iPad. The results were a mixed bag, some too good to be true; hunks with a six pack and a tight arse that looked like they were too in love with themselves to have any left over to share. Then there were shifty looking chancers, out to make a quick buck; thinking about the money not the woman. To be honest I was up for it, it might have been the wine talking or the girls egging me on but I wanted to play the game, have some fun. It'd been a while since I had a bloke and to be honest right now I couldn't be bothered with getting one, but I was horny, by Christ I was horny; there's only so much you can do yourself. Why not pay for it? Why not? Men did. I didn't want a husband, I wanted a shag, and I didn't want a drunk bloke from a bar who would care only about himself. But I also didn't want some plastic poser or some lustful loser, I wanted just an average joe, a good lover. That's when we started talking about Bryn.

Christie had always said Bryn was a good lover, someone who put her needs first. That's exactly what I wanted. Surely that is what a gigolo should do after all the customer should always come first but how would we know, I didn't want a sexy sculptured body I wanted satisfaction guaranteed.

We'd agreed I'd go to her place, she'd promised to buy the wine, I was glad of that, I needed to relax probably more than she did. I rang the doorbell, and waited. She looked good, actually prettier than the photos I’d seen of her. She was in a little black dress, it hung nicely on her body, accentuated her figure. I followed her into the lounge enjoying how the dress swished with each step.

It was a little awkward, we sat and chatted for a little while the shadow of the real reason we were there hung over us like a rain cloud.  She was nice but I couldn’t relax.

‘Shall we sort out the money then, get it out the way?’ The words sounded contrived, like she’d rehearsed it several times. It was then that I realised this was a game to her, she was playing out a fantasy but hadn’t quite had the bottle to go to a real whore. The realisation relaxed me.

She handed over the money. I stood up and reached in my pocket, took out a roll of notes and added the crisp bank machine fresh ones she had given me to it. I usually carry a wallet but I thought it would look a little middle class; a roll of notes would suit a gigolo. I kept eye-contact with her as she handed me the money and after putting the cash away I ran the back of my finger down her cheek, hardly touching her skin, she smiled, I knew I had her.

I have to admit I was disappointed at first, I know I said I wanted normal but this guy was ordinary, he was nothing to write home about, not even something to mention in passing in a text. He lacked confidence, his body language was poor, his chit-chat was boring; Christ he was more nervous than me. Was I really going to pay good money for this? What did Christie see in this guy? But I couldn’t back out now.  Let’s get this over with I thought to myself. ‘Shall we sort out the money then.’ I said to him.

They were like the magic words, his body language changed in an instant, he took the cash and took control. He put the money away and then touched my face. Bang, I already knew what Christie meant, his eyes burning into me, the gentlest of touches - this was going to be good.