Lustly Read online

  As soon as I made it off of my road I started to cry again. I was driving to a woman’s home that I knew nothing about, except that she’d paid for me to have my hair and nails done. I owed her at least ten minutes to listen to whatever she had to say. Maybe she had a job that I’d be good at. I wouldn’t know until I heard her out.

  I pulled up in front of two large black metal gates, and was instantly buzzed through. After driving down a long path of willow trees, I was faced with a tremendous house. I pulled around the circular driveway and climbed out of my vehicle. By the time I’d made it to the door it was opening. A female wearing normal clothes greeted me. “Have a seat in the parlor. Ms. Cybil will be right in.”

  I looked down at the little sundress that I’d chosen to wear at the last minute, and wondered if she’d think it was lovely or hideous. Then, while still fidgeting, I glanced at the room. Cathedral ceilings framed in five layers of crown molding which was a beautiful display of how the rest of the house had been designed. Book shelves built into the whole far wall housed at least three hundred books in all sizes. Even the furniture, two chairs and a settee were decorated with the highest quality coordinating fabric.

  The sound of someone clearly moaning caught my attention. I didn’t know whether to stay quiet or get up and walk around to make sure whoever it was wasn’t in any kind of trouble. My motherly instinct kicked in and I got up rushing around the corner in the house that I’d never been before.

  Shock and embarrassment overwhelmed me when I trampled in front of two people clearly having sex on a large fur rug. The room was huge, with plush sofas and lavishing décor surrounding, but my eyes wouldn’t leave the couple.

  The blonde, Ms. Cybil, was on her knees and her elbows. Her naked body posed for the man behind her. She’d clearly had some work done to look as good as she did. His hands were on her tiny hips and each moan was coming from his thrusting deep inside of her. She looked back at him, never seeing me standing there. Her face disheveled, like they’d been going at it for a long time. “Harder,” she ordered.

  He smacked her on the ass so hard that even hearing it sounded painful.

  I leaned against the wall, secretly spying on their hot encounter. I don’t know what made me keep watching. Perhaps it was the fact that I was shocked that someone her age could be with someone so young and handsome, and keep up. Maybe it was the fact that it made my sex life seem so mundane. Before I’d been aware of his cheating, we’d had sex at least once a week. In my opinion it seemed healthy. Once in a while, when all three kids weren’t home we’d take bubble baths, or I’d dress in something sexy.

  Okay, that only happened once a year on our anniversary.

  In my defense we just got used to being with each other. No matter what either of us tried it was always the same. I’d be on top, and then we’d flip. Once in a while he’d take me from behind. We’d had sex so many times with no foreplay. Hell, we’d had sex without ever kissing.

  Who does that and feels satisfied afterwards?

  Afterwards, he’d turn over and fall fast sleep, while the ache between my legs was so irritating that I’d have to bring myself to a climax to be able to relax.

  I was pathetic.

  Watching this older woman turn around and take it from the front, baring all of her assets to this younger man only reminded me of how miserable I’d been. Realizing that I was standing there spying on the couple, I ran back to the room and grabbed my purse. I wasn’t some sick voyeur. This was obviously a bad idea and she’d for sure not expected me to show up, contrary to what the woman at the door had addressed.

  I made it to my car before I saw her, walking out of the house with only a robe wrapped around her naked body. Her breasts, a result of plastic surgery, were perky and supple. I’d kill for tits that looked like hers and she was much older than me. “Darling, wait!”

  “It’s fine. I didn’t mean to impose. I should have called before I came.” My heart was beating out of my chest, and secretly I’d gotten a bit hot watching the two of them having intercourse.

  Maybe I was voyeur, in an inexperienced kind of way, obviously.

  She never covered herself up as she got closer to me. With only a van door between us, she wet her lips before she spoke. “My massage ran over. I apologize.”

  I wanted to laugh, because that was much different from any massage I’d ever gotten. “It’s fine. I need to get home to my kids.”

  “You mean the teenagers at nine-fourteen Magnolia Avenue?”

  I hadn’t given the woman any of my information; the fact that she knew who I was and where I lived rubbed me the wrong way. “How did you -.”

  “When I invite people to my home, I need to know everything about them, including the fact that they’re still married to their cheating spouses.”

  That was a smack in the face. How embarrassing. “I don’t understand. I gave you no information.”

  She laughed. “I had you followed, love. My business is very private. I needed information to hold over your head in case you think about discussing my personal matters with other people. All I needed was your tag number. The internet is an amazing place.”

  The internet, where porn could be found as fast as a click. Where lives could be ruined from one social media page. Where I probably shouldn’t have gone to look for presents to buy my husband, because he was such a douche.

  I felt intimidated, angry, and a little afraid. Here was this woman, standing in front of me half-naked, telling me that she needed information to hold over my head. Why? Why would she need that?

  I had nothing to show for, except my kids and the clothes on my back. My life was in shambles.

  “Are you part of the mob? I want no part of that, even if it is to open doors and clean toilets.”

  She laughed again. “Darling, I didn’t invite you hear to clean my toilets. I invited you to here to offer you a different type of position. You see, I have several companies, and within those companies are different jobs. There is one in particular that I feel someone like you could benefit from. You definitely have the body for it, that’s for sure.” Was she complimenting me for being thin and taking care of my body? This was getting even weirder. “I took one look at you and knew you’d be perfect. It’s convincing you of it that’s going to take time.”

  She seemed so certain that she knew me and it pissed me off. “You may know that I’m still married, where I live, and how old my kids are. Anyone can find that out on the internet like you said. That doesn’t mean you know me. You know nothing about me.”

  “I know you’re going through hell. Obviously you have no means of income, and risk losing it all because your husband, that you’ve probably devoted yourself to, is out fucking other women. You can stop me whenever I’m wrong about something.” She took a second and smiled, looking me right in the eyes. I didn’t know whether to pull off and possibly run over her foot, or hear her out. “I’ve been exactly where you are, Lily. I’ve felt that pain you’re going through. I know what it’s like to look at my children and feel like if I didn’t stay I was failing them.”

  Another woman who understood. The instant connection was inevitable. I needed a friend. Naked or not, I wanted to hear that I wasn’t alone. Now I’m being creepy.

  My hands gripped my steering wheel and I let my head fall against it as she spoke. “It was many years ago, and I don’t like to revisit that time in my life, but it’s always there, reminding me how far I’ve come.”

  “Was your husband rich? Did you get this in the divorce?”

  She motioned her hand in a wave, as if to say my assumption was wrong. “Hardly. We lived paycheck to paycheck. My two kids got what they needed, but it was never without struggle. I caught my husband with my sister, on Christmas Eve. They’d stayed up while I put the kids down and went to bed, after wrapping presents until I couldn’t stay awake any longer. When I woke up to an empty bed I figured he’d just fallen asleep downstairs. Right in the middle of our living room floor, where
our children could have walked down and seen, they were making love. I suspect it had been going on for probably years. The way they knew each other’s bodies only came from plenty of experience together.”

  She got silent for a moment and I saw my first hint of remorse in her eyes. He’s ripped her heart out, and that’s why she’d become so brutally dry. “I can’t even imagine catching my husband like that. May I ask what happened?”

  She stepped away from the vehicle and closed her robe, finally. “Come inside. We’ll talk.”

  Drawn to her story, so similar to mine, I climbed out of the van and followed her back inside of the house. At the time it didn’t occur to me that she’d just been screwing some guy, and was still walking around with nothing but a thin robe. She led me into the home, walking past the room that I’d seen her in before. We ended up in a room that faced the pool. It was surrounded by glass windows, and large decorative trees were as high as the cathedral ceilings would allow them to grow. In a very large cushioned rattan chair was a pair of eyeglasses and a magazine. A glass of wine was on the table in front of it. She sat down next to them and motioned for me to sit across from her at another matching sofa. “As you can imagine, talking about that part of my life is difficult. I let myself become vulnerable, which is something I’ve never let myself do again. You need to understand that I didn’t get this lifestyle without doing things I’m not proud of. I was desperate, and had no means at making a living for myself. Like you, I had children to think about, and the idea of losing my husband, my sister, and them too was horrifying.”

  I looked around the room and beyond, imagining how someone with nothing could live so lavishly now. “What, did you rob a bank?”

  She laughed in a strange way. “Perhaps you’ll think robbing a bank is better than what I’ve done.”

  Intrigued, I felt the need to know what could be worse. “I’m listening.”

  She crossed her legs, but left the robe open at the bottom. I knew if I looked close enough I’d be able to see her snatch. Even though I wasn’t a lesbian, by any means, I found my eyes traveling over her exposed skin. Her voice caught my attention and I looked at her face, instead of wandering elsewhere.

  “I slept with men for money, Lily.”

  I swallowed the lump in my throat and imagined this classy woman as a hooker. For the life of me I couldn’t see her walking around a corner, leaning into car windows for a quick buck. “You were a hooker?”

  “I prefer lady of the night or escort. Though it doesn’t really matter.”

  I motioned around the room. “I hardly think you got all of this from selling your body.”

  She nodded. “I was desperate, willing to do things that no other woman would think of doing. I wasn’t strong like you, so after only one night I confronted my sister. We had a heated argument, and I left the house and went to the only local tavern that was open. The owner of the company that my father worked for had been hitting on me since I was fifteen years old. He was there, having a few drinks all alone. Of course, seeing me in my condition, he invited me to join him. What started as flirtatious gestures turned into a night of heated passion. I never knew a man could do the things that he did to me.” She smiled and ran her hands through her long hair. “When I woke the next morning there was five-hundred dollars sitting on the bedside table. I felt so humiliated that I rushed to his office the next morning and demanded an apology. After all those years knowing me, and having told him my heartbreaking secret, he’d treated me like a whore.” She brushed her fingers lightly over her lips, as if she was recalling a tender moment. “Instead of apologizing he convinced me that I needed it, as much as he needed to see me again.”

  “So he became your first client?”

  “Yes. Dominic Vartan was my first client. He’s also my late second husband.”

  “Ah, so was he the only one? I’d hardly consider you a whore.” It was one guy who she ended up marrying. It shouldn’t even count.

  “My husband committed suicide three years after we’d married. He was in big trouble with the IRS and felt that ending his life was his only way out. During the time of his loss and the government investigation, our money was seized. I was left with a hefty mortgage, and no means of income. Everything was gone in the blink of an eye.”

  “That’s horrible.”

  “Yes, it really is,” she agreed. “I wish I could tell you that everything was rainbows and sunshine, but it wasn’t. I’d made friends, and was living a good life. Imagining giving it up wasn’t an option. So I did the only thing I knew how.”

  “You started hooking?”

  “Not exactly. Through my husband I’d met plenty of rich and powerful men. Most of them had come onto me at one time or another. Swaying them into bed was never hard. When they realized that they could pay for my disclosure they jumped on the opportunity. Soon I was working five nights a week, servicing the same men. Then they started telling their friends, and I had a decision to make. It wasn’t always sex, you have to understand that. There were plenty of nights where they just wanted the company of a woman that wouldn’t judge them. Most were married, and just not happy with what they had to go home to. Knowing that only proved my theory that men are incapable of being faithful. Given the opportunity, every human will stray. It only takes one perfect situation for it to happen, whether they regret it later or not.”

  “If you were doing it five nights a week, weren’t you making enough to pay the bills?”

  She laughed. “I made one-thousand dollars a night. Most weeks I had five grand cash. It was plenty.”

  I placed my hands on my knees and rubbed them up and down. There was a little part of me that felt completely uncomfortable, but also a side of me that wanted to hear the rest of her story. I thought about my children, probably already settling down for bed, thinking that their lives were so good. Unlike their friends, their parents were still married and seemingly happy. Little did they know that it was going to change. “I’ve never met a hooker before, or lady of the night, excuse me.”

  “I’ve never really considered myself a hooker; a high dollar call girl maybe, but never a hooker.” She began to find humor in her own statement. “Lily, I did what I had to do. Failure was never a strong point for me.”

  “I don’t understand. For all these years you’ve been selling your body for money? Aren’t you tired of it?”

  She sat back in the seat and crossed her arms. “I haven’t had to do it in a very long time, not after I started hiring my own girls. I began making double and then triple. Soon I had over fifty girls working in several states. I even have a couple girls that live in other countries. I suppose you’d call me a madam, now, though I do lavish the benefits in all of my new male apprentices.”

  “That guy earlier? He works for you? You have men working for you?”

  “Yes. Women need company as much as men. My male employees have been taught to satisfy a female’s every desire. I know because I taught them myself. I also hand pick all of my employees. It helps weed out the bad apples. I know who needs to be successful. You have to understand that I offer them a good lifestyle. My employees have routine physicals. They’re tested and taught to be safe. My clients also have to go through a full medical evaluation before they can be considered. I do background checks, and require legal counsel regarding the sanctity of my business. My clients are fully aware that if they betray our agreement they will also be ending their careers. I’m doing them a public service, and they appreciate it. Besides, there are no other places where one with no work experience can make so much money.”

  This woman was crazy. I couldn’t believe I was sitting in front of a whore. Why had she invited me there to listen to her story? I’d work at two McDonalds before I’d belittle myself into a lifestyle like she led.

  “I never thought I’d meet someone like you. Even though we clearly have different opinions on our futures, it was nice visiting with someone that’s been through what I’m going through. You’ve given m
e hope, and I appreciate that. It’s getting late and I better get going.”

  “Lily, I’m afraid you don’t understand why I asked you here.”

  The room got quiet. It only took me a second to realize what was going on. This bitch was crazy. She was bat-shit fucking crazy if she thought I was going to want to sell my body for sex.

  My eyes doubled in size. “Whoa. Wait a minute. Did you invite me here to offer me a job being a…a…” I couldn’t even say it.

  “Perhaps I was wrong to assume that you need help?”

  “Not that kind of help. I’d never…I can’t even imagine being with another man.” I stood up and started to walk out of the room. “Look, I get why you did what you did. I’m not you, and I refused to let you threaten me into a situation that I don’t want any part of. I’ll figure things out on my own, and if you’re worried about me telling anyone, don’t. I wouldn’t dare share something like that.”

  As I hurried toward the door I heard her saying one last thing to me. “You know where to find me when you change your mind.”

  Fat chance for that. I climbed in my van and drove as fast as I could home, shaking the whole way, and contemplating sending an anonymous message to the police about what was going on with that woman.

  Then I remembered that she had my address. She knew about my family, and probably even more. I couldn’t say anything in fear of retaliation. How could one fantastic hair cut get me in so much trouble? I know I’d promised that girl I’d go back there, but I was cancelling my next appointment as soon as the sun came up in the morning.

  Chapter 4

  That night I tossed and turned in bed, getting no real sleep at all. My mind was in so many different places. One minute I was thinking of all the vibrating devices in Kate’s love drawer, and the next I was picturing Ms. Cybil bent over in all of her glory¸ taking it from behind. At least it was better than thinking about my husband, and what he was doing with Kate. An ache in my heart reminded me of how pitiful my life was destined to be. I sat up in bed at about four a.m. and looked around the room. Aside from the dog snoring, it was quiet. The other side of my bed, where the love of my life rested his head at night, was cold. I didn’t have to touch it to know it.