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Karen

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Late March

Why did I even pick up the phone?

I was on my scooter, on my way to Karen’s house, and though we were heading into spring, there was still a chill in the air. It wasn’t even as if I needed the money these days. Business was going so well that I could pick and choose. I should have let my ‘Berry ring until it switched to voicemail.

Just my luck.

But I had answered the call, and now I was on my way to Balham. I stopped outside a block of flats. The place didn’t look a million miles away from the excouncil housing that the Girls and I lived in, though our place was in a leafier part of London. As they say, location was everything. This block and indeed the whole estate had a shabby air about it. Rubbish dotted the grass verges, and various tags were scrawled over the brickwork.

I braced myself and rang the bell. The buzzer sounded and I pushed open the heavy-duty fire door and headed down the corridor to Karen’s flat. She was standing on the threshold.

Mutton dressed as lamb.

I knew it was unfair of me, but before Karen had even opened her mouth I’d made up my mind about what she’d be like. She was the sort of older woman that me and my mates back in Aus would have sniggered over for trying too hard to cheat time.

Not that Karen was ancient. She was in her forties but dressed like someone half her age, in a skimpy black vest, crotch-length miniskirt, fishnet stockings and four-inch heels. It all left nothing to the imagination and it didn’t do her any favours either. She clearly hoped to make an impression on the guys she met.

Well, yeah love, but not quite the impression you wanted

But the irony was that it clearly wasn’t working. After all, she’d had to resort to hiring me, hadn’t she?

When Karen did open her mouth to invite me in, she all but crowed. ‘Luke, do come in,’ she leered, looking me up and down with a keen eye.

‘Thanks,’ I replied, wondering how things might pan out tonight.

Karen leant against the open front door to let me pass, but leaving so little room that I couldn’t help but brush against her. Or she against me.

OK, I’ll let you have that one for free.

I stepped straight into the lounge room. Karen’s place was sort of what I’d expected. That is, nothing special.

‘Do sit down, and I’ll get you a drink. You’d like a beer or something?’ she said as she disappeared into the kitchen.

‘Thanks. That’d be nice,’ I said loudly and sank down into an overstuffed armchair that threatened to swallow me up. There was a matching sofa that seemed to take up half the room, then a huge telly and digibox on a black tubular metal stand in one corner, but that was it.

I heard the fridge door slam shut, and a second or two later Karen was back in the room with a couple of cans of Budweiser, handing me one of them. As I upped the ring pull and licked off the excess beer from the can’s top, she dropped onto the sofa with a loud ‘Ahh’ of relief.

Fiddling with the can and giving it my full concentration ate up a few minutes until we got down to business. I took a gulp from the can, and looked over at Karen.

‘It’s the first time I’ve been this far south, I think,’ I smiled, as if I had just ventured out on some exotic adventure to uncharted lands.

I looked around the room again, desperate for something to talk about. There was a photo of what looked like a younger Karen holding hands with a small boy.

‘You have a son?’ I fished, nodding at the picture.

‘Callum? Yes. You might get to see him. He’s not as small as that. Obviously.’

Obviously.

‘He lives with you?’

‘Yes, it’s probably about time I kicked him out, but I like having him around. I’d miss him around the flat. He’s around your age.’

I did a quick calculation. She must have been in her early twenties when she’d had him. Pretty young. I certainly wouldn’t want a toddler around my feet any time soon.

‘Oh, there’s no need to worry about Callum butting in on anything. He’s round at his girlfriend’s tonight,’ Karen blurted out.

That was a relief, though it hadn’t really crossed my mind.

‘But I’m sure you’ll get to meet him at some point,’ she smiled.

That sounded promising. Karen had booked me for an overnight this time, but it sounded as if she’d already made up her mind that she’d call me again some time. Maybe it wasn’t such a bad thing that I’d come out so late tonight after all. Karen might turn out to be a lucrative regular if I played my cards right.

‘When you do meet Callum, you won’t tell him why you’re here, will you?’ she blurted out.

‘Of course I will!’ I joked.

‘You’ll tell him you’re my boyfriend, won’t you?’ she stressed.

Blimey! She’d already sorted out her story before it had even got started. Of course, I could act the role of ‘boyfriend’, no sweat—but whether I would be able to convince Callum that I’d chosen to get together with his mum in the first place was a different matter.

‘No problem, Karen. I will.’

I pulled myself up and out of the armchair, moving closer to Karen as I took another gulp from my can.

I gave a sideways glance at the white flesh of her thigh above the top of her stocking. I reached out my hand and stroked it with my thumb. She shifted her leg towards the pressure, and I answered that by slipping my fingers beneath the fishnet itself and giving her a strong brush with my hand.

Karen swivelled her whole body to face me, her miniskirt riding up even higher with the movement. I chose not to look too closely just yet and focused on her face. It wasn’t as if she was bad looking. Just over-egged.

I released my hand from her stockings and gave her whole thigh a sweep with it. She shivered.

‘You’d like to show me the bedroom, Karen?’

She nodded furiously and jumped up from the sofa. Gagging for it.

Karen gripped my hand and pulled me up alongside her. ‘Follow me,’ she gasped, though it wasn’t as if I had any say in the matter. Not that I really cared. I knew what I was getting into the moment she opened the door to me. Money for sex. Nothing more.

Karen’s bedroom was as basically furnished as her lounge, with a double bed in the middle of it, a cheap white chipboard wardrobe and a small chest of drawers. Another framed picture of her and Callum stood on the side table by her bed.

‘Would you like a massage to start with, Karen?’ I asked to get things started.

I unbuttoned my own shirt and caught her fumbling with her top. ‘Would you like some help with that?’

The thought sped across my mind that Karen might have just set me up with her own practised routine. ‘Step One: get him to get your clothes off.’ Not that that bothered me too much. As far as I was concerned, it was whichever way I could get from A to B; I would give her a decent bout of sex to satisfy her, yet at the same time curtail it as soon as I wanted by going off to sleep. I’d already planned on escaping early the next morning, before Karen herself had got out of bed. I simply didn’t fancy Karen, so didn’t feel up to giving her anything more than she was paying me for. What she would be getting was my standard overnight package.

Once we were in bed, I sorted out the protection as I nestled against Karen’s huge tits, and then dived right in. She held me tight, grunting and shrieking her way through the session.

Sex with Karen wasn’t as bad as I feared. Though neither was it going to be one of those nights I was going to list among my most memorable. Those, like my session with Sasha and Chloe, and the Aussie model, Mae, were what helped me guarantee Karen a top-class escort session tonight.

I gave her a good time, that’s for sure. After all, if she was about to turn into a regular, it was important that I did. It’s just that I kept myself at a distance. And I was damn glad that her son hadn’t made an appearance.

I climbed off Karen and lay beside her to catch my breath, gave her one last kiss, then held her hand and did the post-orgasm guy thing of dropping off to sleep as fast as I possibly could. Though I at least made the effort not to act so cold that she felt she’d in any way been snubbed.

As it happened, I had a good night’s sleep. I woke at around seven, as I normally did, and pulled myself away from Karen and watched her lying there still fast asleep. It hadn’t been a bad night, just not a great one.

I got out of the bed and went to the bathroom to wash and get dressed. Karen had already handed me the money last night, so I poked my head around her bedroom door, and since she was still cold to the world, I wished her a silent ‘Goodbye’ and left.

I was having a cup of tea back at the flat later that morning when I got a call from Gray.

‘Karen so enjoyed her sesh that she wants to book you for tomorrow night. You up for it?’

Bloody hell, love, give us a break.

But then again, if Karen was going to be calling me on a regular basis for regular money, why shouldn’t I be?

‘You bet!’ I crowed. And booked Karen into my diary.

For Hire: The Intimate Adventures of a Gigolo

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