Inspired by Lily Divine's fictional story about "Hot Chocolate". Thanks Lily!
It took him a long, long time to get up the nerve. Married, for what seemed forever, to a woman he still loved, but the sex had gone stale years ago. He was still willing; she rarely wanted to any more. He had given up asking, or suggesting it because she usually refused anyway. For years he just did without, and became very good friends with his right hand and the porn sites on his laptop computer.
But the day had finally come. He had found the escort review boards and had been reading for months. He had figured out who was good and who he should avoid. Although his demands were pretty few (no sex for many years will do that to a man) he made sure that the lady he chose would be willing to do all the things he would appreciate. The girl friend experience seemed like a strange concept to be contemplating with a stranger, but he was very excited to think that a beautiful woman, more than thirty years younger than he, would even be willing to entertain him for a half an hour.
He sat at his computer, hitting the refresh button every minute, waiting for her to post an ad. He didn't need to see it--heck, although he had never contacted her, he knew her phone number by heart now, having looked at her ad every day for weeks, waiting to work up the nerve. Suddenly, she had posted her availability. His hands were shaking as he tried to remain cool, texting her.
"Hi," he texted, "would you have a half hour available this morning? I am a new client.". He hit send and felt his stomach fall out of his body. Was that the right thing to say? He had never done this kind of thing before. Shit, he thought, I hope she answers quickly. Or not at all. Hell, I don't know WHAT I want her to do.
Five minutes passed. He had showered that morning, and it wasn't a particularly warm day, but he was sweating profusely. He realized that he would definitely have to shower again when he got to her place--he would need it. The longer it took for his phone to respond, the worse his perspiration became.
His phone chimed and he jumped out of his chair. Although no one was near to see him he didn't reach for his phone too quickly--he didn't want to appear too anxious, while really he was almost sick with the anticipation.
"Hey babe," the message read, "I have eleven thirty available. Does that work for you?"
HOLY FUCK, he thought. This is actually going to happen. She even called me babe! "Yes, that works fine for me. See you then?"
She replied with the location, and he began to pace. It was almost an hour and a half in the future, and there was no way he was going to make it. He could not concentrate on anything, so he put the dishes away from the dishwasher, vacuumed the floor, checked the mailbox and folded some towels. Although it was still a half hour until his appointment he left the house, got in the car and started driving towards her incall condo. He just couldn't wait another minute. He stopped at the drug mart on the way to buy a pack of gum and some mints--he had brushed his teeth before he left but he knew his breath would need some freshening up too.
Still, he got to her incall fifteen minutes early. He sat in his car in the parking lot, wondering when he should text that he was there. You know, just in case she had finished her previous client early, or he hadn't shown up. No, that might seem creepy. He'd wait ten minutes, then text her.
And that's what he did. "Hi, I know I'm a little early, but I'm here whenever you're available" he somehow managed to text, his fingers still vibrating with nerves like he had never experienced before. Then he waited. Five minutes later it was finally eleven-thirty so he texted again, "Hi, I'm here." Maybe she hadn't heard the first text, being busy showering, or shaving her legs, or whatever it was she was doing.
Five more minutes, and he nearly threw up when his phone chimed the text message alert. "Hey babe, running late. Stepping in the shower now. Don't worry, you'll get your full time" she said.
"No problem," he texted back. "Let me know when you're ready for me." The last thing he was worrying about right now was getting his full time. All he wanted to do was get up to her apartment before his heart gave out.
It was almost five minutes exactly when she texted him the buzzer code and unit number. He got out of his car, spit his gum on the ground, popped a mint and made his way to the lobby. He punched in the code and heard the door click without saying a word. He walked to the elevator, pushed the button, and waited for it to come. Hell, he thought, I should take the stairs--I could have been up ten floors before this elevator even arrived.
His mind was racing on the way up. It's funny, he thinks--this is probably the biggest moment in my life since my daughter was born fifteen years ago. And for the woman I'm about to meet--I'm just another client. She probably has no idea how profound and important this moment is in my life. I hope she's not totally disgusted with me, or think I'm too fat, or bald, or old...
The elevator door slid open and he stepped out. He turned to the right, walked towards the apartment doors and found the correct one. Before he knocked he checked his phone again, just to make sure he had the right unit. He did, so he knocked lightly, so as not to be heard by other tenants. She should be listening for his knock anyway, right?
A few seconds later he heard footsteps coming towards the door. He forgot to breathe until the door opened. Holy shit, he thought, she looks so young, but oh so beautiful. He started to make small talk about the weather, just like this was someone he met in the supermarket. A few seconds later, without him doing a thing, she put her arms around him and gave him the most passionate kiss he had experienced in years. That's when he realized that he had made the right decision.
It took him a long, long time to get up the nerve. Married, for what seemed forever, to a woman he still loved, but the sex had gone stale years ago. He was still willing; she rarely wanted to any more. He had given up asking, or suggesting it because she usually refused anyway. For years he just did without, and became very good friends with his right hand and the porn sites on his laptop computer.
But the day had finally come. He had found the escort review boards and had been reading for months. He had figured out who was good and who he should avoid. Although his demands were pretty few (no sex for many years will do that to a man) he made sure that the lady he chose would be willing to do all the things he would appreciate. The girl friend experience seemed like a strange concept to be contemplating with a stranger, but he was very excited to think that a beautiful woman, more than thirty years younger than he, would even be willing to entertain him for a half an hour.
He sat at his computer, hitting the refresh button every minute, waiting for her to post an ad. He didn't need to see it--heck, although he had never contacted her, he knew her phone number by heart now, having looked at her ad every day for weeks, waiting to work up the nerve. Suddenly, she had posted her availability. His hands were shaking as he tried to remain cool, texting her.
"Hi," he texted, "would you have a half hour available this morning? I am a new client.". He hit send and felt his stomach fall out of his body. Was that the right thing to say? He had never done this kind of thing before. Shit, he thought, I hope she answers quickly. Or not at all. Hell, I don't know WHAT I want her to do.
Five minutes passed. He had showered that morning, and it wasn't a particularly warm day, but he was sweating profusely. He realized that he would definitely have to shower again when he got to her place--he would need it. The longer it took for his phone to respond, the worse his perspiration became.
His phone chimed and he jumped out of his chair. Although no one was near to see him he didn't reach for his phone too quickly--he didn't want to appear too anxious, while really he was almost sick with the anticipation.
"Hey babe," the message read, "I have eleven thirty available. Does that work for you?"
HOLY FUCK, he thought. This is actually going to happen. She even called me babe! "Yes, that works fine for me. See you then?"
She replied with the location, and he began to pace. It was almost an hour and a half in the future, and there was no way he was going to make it. He could not concentrate on anything, so he put the dishes away from the dishwasher, vacuumed the floor, checked the mailbox and folded some towels. Although it was still a half hour until his appointment he left the house, got in the car and started driving towards her incall condo. He just couldn't wait another minute. He stopped at the drug mart on the way to buy a pack of gum and some mints--he had brushed his teeth before he left but he knew his breath would need some freshening up too.
Still, he got to her incall fifteen minutes early. He sat in his car in the parking lot, wondering when he should text that he was there. You know, just in case she had finished her previous client early, or he hadn't shown up. No, that might seem creepy. He'd wait ten minutes, then text her.
And that's what he did. "Hi, I know I'm a little early, but I'm here whenever you're available" he somehow managed to text, his fingers still vibrating with nerves like he had never experienced before. Then he waited. Five minutes later it was finally eleven-thirty so he texted again, "Hi, I'm here." Maybe she hadn't heard the first text, being busy showering, or shaving her legs, or whatever it was she was doing.
Five more minutes, and he nearly threw up when his phone chimed the text message alert. "Hey babe, running late. Stepping in the shower now. Don't worry, you'll get your full time" she said.
"No problem," he texted back. "Let me know when you're ready for me." The last thing he was worrying about right now was getting his full time. All he wanted to do was get up to her apartment before his heart gave out.
It was almost five minutes exactly when she texted him the buzzer code and unit number. He got out of his car, spit his gum on the ground, popped a mint and made his way to the lobby. He punched in the code and heard the door click without saying a word. He walked to the elevator, pushed the button, and waited for it to come. Hell, he thought, I should take the stairs--I could have been up ten floors before this elevator even arrived.
His mind was racing on the way up. It's funny, he thinks--this is probably the biggest moment in my life since my daughter was born fifteen years ago. And for the woman I'm about to meet--I'm just another client. She probably has no idea how profound and important this moment is in my life. I hope she's not totally disgusted with me, or think I'm too fat, or bald, or old...
The elevator door slid open and he stepped out. He turned to the right, walked towards the apartment doors and found the correct one. Before he knocked he checked his phone again, just to make sure he had the right unit. He did, so he knocked lightly, so as not to be heard by other tenants. She should be listening for his knock anyway, right?
A few seconds later he heard footsteps coming towards the door. He forgot to breathe until the door opened. Holy shit, he thought, she looks so young, but oh so beautiful. He started to make small talk about the weather, just like this was someone he met in the supermarket. A few seconds later, without him doing a thing, she put her arms around him and gave him the most passionate kiss he had experienced in years. That's when he realized that he had made the right decision.
