Wednesday, July 25, 2007

Saturday, July 21, 2007

The Lure Of Easy Money...


In the cab, on the way home, I thoughtfully thumbed my green. Until recent events, although I had done well enough in my vanilla career, I had never known the illicit rush of clutching a fist full of Benjamin's. And it was a thrill. I felt if I were part of a lush and devious guild of insouciance scoundrels, seducers and miscreants. Typically, I was never a joiner. Inwardly I shrugged. I was all right with it.

I happened to glance up and caught the cabbie watching me in his mirror. He gave me a knowing little smirk under his bushy, barber shop quartet mustache. I didn't like it. I didn't like it at all. I narrowed my eyes and stared right back at him, till he flicked his gaze away uneasily. I won. Then I looked out the window at the Boston sky line. My beautiful, expensive city. She was like a tasteful whore. Which was, of course, what the cabbie thought I was.

I wondered why. I knew he hadn't seen the money as I had carefully checked it behind the raised flap of my purse. The hour was late, but it was hardly unusual to see a woman out at night. I was wearing my London Fog trench coat, cinched at the waist. Even so, what was underneath it was sexy and not scandalous. My nails were on the short side and painted a sheer beigey-pink. My make up was at a minimum although I was wearing a single sweep of black eye liner on my upper lid. I had smoothed my dark red hair before I stepped outside and reapplied my scent. Maybe spraying perfume late at night was the universal badge of naughty girls every where.

It wasn't the outfit. Boris had seen me out, but for all the cabbie knew, I was his girl friend. I realized that I didn't care what the driver's pedestrian thoughts were. The exceptional should always be above censor.

I reflected upon what had just occurred. What I had done wasn't sex, but I could not deny it was sexual in nature. The scene had resided in the twilight zone of tame and permissible acts, but it had been highly charged for Boris. I had watched him with a sort of detached empathy.

It was the ultimate tease as I was sitting fully dressed in front of him, and he was on his back. I allowed him the occasional glance up my long skirt as he held my feet and tenderly licked them. I had giggled and squirmed and he had moaned and ejaculated. As we finished the wine, Boris spoke of the essential humanity of Albert Einstein, loaned me a book and called a cab. It wasn't sex but it wasn't being a Dominatrix either. Although the foot stuff was lovely, I realized I wanted to experience something a little more...hard core.

I discovered what I was looking for through session number three with Chuck.

The human pin cushion.