Ben has it all lined up! His parents are away all weekend, so he has taken full advantage of the free time. Drinks with the boys followed by a hooker to fuck his brains out!
He had found a redhead online; she looked hot and sexy, although her images purposely concealed her face. There were close-ups of her breasts and pussy, which both looked inviting. She offered the usual services, kissing, oral, and penetration for three hundred dollars an hour. To fuck her bum-hole was an extra fifty, and she had the right to refuse large cocks if her passage couldn’t take it.
Drinks with the boys escalate quite quickly from a few beers into cocktails and downing tequila shots. Ben found himself in the gent’s toilets throwing up. He spits the last bits of puke out of his mouth and staggers back to his friends to make his excuses and head back. He leaves after being heavily mocked and walks via a store to pick up some mints.
The modern family apartment is in an exclusive complex in Manhattan, overlooking New York’s Central Park. Ben stumbles through the door, fills the kitchen sink with water, and adds some ice. He then dunks his head into the cold water in a bid to get mildly coherent.
The door buzzer comes alive, like a drill going through Ben’s head. It must be her; it was 1.30 am on the dot. The prostitute is here, and he is in no fit state. But confident he can pull it together, Ben goes over to buzz her in.
Ben sits back on the sofa waiting. Through his daze, he can see a redhead walk in and shut the door behind her. She is dressed in sexy tight black leather trousers and a jacket.
“Hello, lover,” she says.
“Wow, hi Sylvie,” Ben says, getting up.
“Darling, shall we deal with the money side first?” Sylvie asks.
“Yes, ok,” Ben says getting out the six, fifty-dollar notes, he had kept aside in his pocket.
Sylvie takes the cash and looks at Ben, spread out on the sofa. He is young, medium build with brown medium-length hair. A few drinks for Dutch courage was one thing but this kid probably wasn’t going to last an hour.
They settle on the sofa and start kissing. Sylvie could taste the alcohol on Ben’s breath. His reactions were slow and non-compliant, he could barely focus on this beautiful woman. His eyes slowly close as he passes out.
Sylvie tries to wake Ben up, his eyes open briefly and then he is gone again. He starts to snore loudly so at least he is alive. Sylvie decides it is a lost cause and as a gesture leaves half the cash, taking the other half for her trouble. She goes over to the front door. But it’s locked and you need a passcode to open it.
“Fucking hell,” she exclaims walking back over to Ben.
Sonny has had a hard day and relaxes with a whiskey and cigar on his balcony. His peace is disturbed by noise from the apartment above. He thought they were away.
“Hey, you, can you help me?”
Sonny looks up and sees a redhead leaning over the balcony above him.
“Hi”
“I am trapped in here, Ben got drunk, and fell asleep and I can’t wake him up to get the door code.”
“Sorry, I don’t know what it is,” Sonny exclaims.
“That wasn’t what I was thinking.”
With that Sylvie takes off her deep red flame stilettos, puts them in her bag, which she slings over her shoulder, and proceeds to climb over the balcony railings.
“Fuck, lady, be careful, you could kill yourself.”
Sylvie looks down at the ground several flights below her. Holding tightly to the railings she shimmies down the metal post connecting the two balconies. She wraps her arms around and clambers like a monkey, her bare feet feeling the cold metal as she slowly heads to the balcony below. She swings her body. A nervous Sonny tries to help and reaches out as she comes down. He falls back on the balcony as he grabs hold of her.
“Hello, I hope you don’t mind me dropping in like this,” she says lying on top of him.
Sylvie gets up and pulls Sonny to his feet. They walk through to his apartment. The layout is the same as the one above just differently decorated and you could tell Sonny lives on his own.
“Hi, I’m Sonny. How do you know Ben?”
“Just friends, we went to a fancy dress party which is why I am dressed like this.”
“Are you Catwoman?” Sonny says looking down at her leather outfit.
Her leather trousers look like they are sprayed on they are so tight. Her black leather jacket is slightly looser fitting and you can tell she has nothing on underneath it.
“I was aiming for Emma Peel, The Avengers, a sixties TV show. Have you seen it?”
“Yes, I know the show,” Sonny says apprehensively, not believing a word she is saying.
“Who are you really?”
“Well, I didn’t meet Ben until tonight, I am actually an air hostess.”
“Honestly?”
“Yes. But I also work on the side as an escort,” Sylvie confesses.
“Are you from New York?”
“Yes. Being an air hostess isn’t great money, being an escort is much better and I also pick up the odd client in layovers. The two jobs fit nicely together.”
“What’s your name?”
“It’s Sass, Sylvie Sass.”
Sonny is fairly wealthy, this apartment wasn’t even his main home, he just had it for when he was in New York on business. He is in his late forties but keeps in shape and looks good with a full head of grey hair. Although Sylvie is half his age, she finds him very attractive.
