A woman is loaned $200 by a virtual stranger at her bank. As a professional sex worker, she decides a special reward is an appropriate thank-you gift for him.
Part One
When I was 22 years old, I landed my first real, fulltime job. I was employed as an assistant office manager for a trucking company that made deliveries all across North America. To get to my place of employment, I had to travel about 40 minutes one way from my home, an apartment I shared with a high school buddy. Driving was not a joy for me, but my commute was a relatively peaceful journey, so I generally didn’t mind doing that five days a week.
This was 1985. One problem I did not foresee in advance when I was hired for this job was my banking. I got paid every two weeks; I was handed an old-fashioned paper paycheck by my supervisor, a nice fellow named Harold who was nearly three times my age. The idea of direct deposits was a few years in the future. In those days, one had to go directly to one’s own bank to cash a check or deposit funds—and all other banking tasks. This reality presented a real challenge for me. Even though I passed two identical banks to mine on my way home, I could only bank at the location where my account was. Our paydays were Fridays. My bank closed early on that day of the week. Twice in three paydays I arrived at my bank a few minutes late and had to wait until Monday to do my banking when their hours were extended. I was badly short of cash on both those weekends. This was the second time in a row.
On Monday, Harold casually asked me how my weekend was. I said to him, “I couldn’t do much without any money in my pocket,” and I explained my problem to him.
“Don’t you have a credit card?” Harold asked me
.
“Not yet,” I replied. “I’ve been turned down twice because of my age and my lack of full-time job experience. If I’m still here a year from now, my bank will probably okay me for a credit card, but at the moment I have to deal strictly with cash—and I can’t get home in time on Fridays to get to my bank.”
Harold, the fine fellow that he was, wanted to help. He discussed my problem with his supervisor. He graciously allowed me to leave the office an hour early on payday Fridays and make up for it by working an extra hour over the four days earlier in the week. This was terrific news for me!
Part Two
Two Fridays later I left work an hour earlier, as was now my schedule, and got to my bank in plenty of time to deposit my paycheck while retaining $200 in cash for “walking-around money” as my friends and I liked to call it. Self-service bank machines weren’t common yet, so I got into a conversation with a rather attractive fortyish, overtly friendly woman, also in line, whom I didn’t really know, but I’d often conversed with her at this bank. She didn’t know my name, either. About halfway through our pleasant chitchat about the weather, the traffic and other trivial items, she suddenly slapped her forehead with her open palm and let out a mild curse that only I could hear. “I meant to bring $200 to deposit today, but I left it in an envelope on my kitchen table. How stupid of me!”
I told her the bank would still be open for another 45 minutes or so, but she informed me that she had other errands to run. She was about to walk away when I offered to go the extra mile and help her.
“I’ll tell you what might work. Let me step ahead of you in line. I’ll withdraw an extra $200 and give it to you so you can make your deposit. You can pay me back two weeks from now. That’s the next time I’m certain to be here.”
“That’s an extraordinarily kind offer to make considering we don’t know each other’s names,” she said. “How do you know I won’t just renege on repaying your loan?”
“Well, I guess I don’t know that at all, but you have a trusting face and I think I can risk it,” I responded cheerfully. “By the way, my name is Dean Rutherford.” I extended my hand for her to shake.
“I’m Marie Gabriel,” so I was told as she gently shook my right hand. “I accept your wonderful offer, but I do want to talk to you after we’ve each done our banking, so please linger here for a few minutes.”
“Alright,” I said. “I’ll be sitting right there.” I pointed to a vacant grey chair in a corner area.
I did my personal banking in about two minutes and handed Marie two $100 bills. The cashier had an amused look on her face when Marie deposited the same two banknotes she had given me a few seconds earlier. I took my chair. Within a minute Marie was sitting beside me. She said something I was absolutely not expecting.
“That really was kind of you, Dean,” she insisted. “It’s not often that people are this trustworthy. Anyway, let me give you one of my business cards. It shows my address; I work from my home. If you drop by exactly two hours from now, I’ll repay you the $200 in cash—plus a bit of interest.”
“I don’t need to be paid interest for a two-hour loan,” I said with a laugh.
“You don’t know what type of interest I’m offering,” she quickly stated. Then she pointed at the business card that I’d taken from her. I hadn’t looked at it yet. Above her contact info, it said in bold print, “Miss Marie—Professional Escort Service. I’ll Treat You Like the Gentleman You Are!”
I was generally a naïve 22-year-old, but even I was worldly enough to know that any female who advertised herself as an “escort” was a professional sex worker. I scrutinized her from head to toe while a naughty smile overtook my face. I liked what I saw. I’m sure I’d like Marie’s voluptuous body even better if she were lying naked in bed with me.
“I’ll give you a free screwing for your good deed today. Does that sound okay to you, Dean?” she asked.
“Absolutely!” I said to her, my eagerness to accept her offer being very obvious. “I think I know where this street is.” I told her. “The street name is familiar because an old high school buddy of mine, Carlos, lives on Webster Court. That’s nearby, right?”
“My home is one street north of your friend’s house,” Marie confirmed for me. “I’m always looking to expand my list of clients. You get a freebie, Dean. If you bring Carlos along, he’ll have to pay the regular rate.” I was pleased to see that Marie had a good attitude and a sense of humor about her profession. It boded well for me, because I wasn’t exactly bubbling over with sexual experience. I could count all my previous carnal dalliances on one hand and still have fingers left over.
“Nah, to hell with Carlos,” I replied. “I’ll be arriving alone. Marie, I want your undivided attention when I’m there!”
Part Three
I wasn’t sure if visiting a hooker was like going to a dental appointment where you were expected to arrive 30 minutes early, or if it was more like a specialists’ appointment where if you did arrive early, it just prolonged your waiting time. Thus, I timed my arrival to occur a mere two minutes ahead of schedule. Marie must have seen me heading to her door because she opened it when I was still ten feet away.
“Welcome, Dean!” she said warmly and gave me a hug. “You are very punctual!”
“That’s part of my nature,” I said, “especially if my appointment is an important one. This one certainly qualifies.”
I was sort of expecting Marie to be clad in some sort of flimsy bedroom attire, such as a slinky negligee or a see-through peignoir, but she was dressed like a legal secretary instead of a harlot. Frankly, I was a bit disappointed. That emotion was soon to change, though.
“I have another, slightly different option for you than what I mentioned at the bank two hours ago,” Marie stated. I wrongly figured she was going to renege on the sex and just pay me back my $200 with some extra cash as the interest. Thankfully, I was very wrong about that.
Marie turned her head toward the hallway and said in a louder voice, “Diana, come out here, please. Dean is here.” Seconds later a stunning pretty girl—who was wearing a sexy gold negligee and not much else—strolled into the area of the living room close to the front door where I was still standing with my jacket on. Luckily the drapes were drawn, likely on purpose, or every male passerby of the Gabriel household would have been distracted.
Marie did the introductions. “Dean, this is my lovely daughter, Diana. She is just starting in the escort business. In fact, you would be just her third customer ever—if you accept a rendezvous with her instead of me. Diana, this is Dean Rutherford; he’s the generous and friendly young man who kindly helped me out at the bank two hours ago.”
“Oh!” I said as I shook this sexpot’s hand, clearly interested in the revised offer. “Not that I’m objecting one bit, but why the change of plans?” I asked.
Marie explained her idea. “I haven’t yet had the opportunity to observe how Diana pleases her paying customers. Diana is very eager to follow in her mother’s footsteps. She is a highly sexual person, so this kind of work definitely suits her. Dean, I figure you would be the perfect person for Diana to fuck while I watch from a distance and give her occasional pointers. That would be the only catch. Anyway, I’m sure you’d rather fuck someone way closer to your own age than 43-year-old me.”
I diplomatically stated, “Marie, you look fabulous for 43. I would have guessed your age to be about 35. For the past two hours, I’ve been fantasizing about our upcoming sexual romp. Honest to God, I’ve been thinking of nothing else whatsoever. However, I’m more than happy to be a guinea pig for Diana—with you watching along and giving her advice. Besides, Diana is incredibly sexy herself!”
Both females in the Gabriel house were flattered by what I just said. Simultaneously, Diana kissed my left cheek and Marie did the same to my right one. Then we all laughed together. This was the beginning of a fun and sexy night for me—and it was all because I extended a kindness at my bank today.
Part Four
I hadn’t lied: Diana was very desirable. She was about 5’4” tall with dirty blonde hair the hund down three or four inches past her shoulders. She had curves in all the right places. As a bonus, she had dimples—which I always found endearing on any female. This had to me my luckiest day on the planet!
Diana instructed me to disrobe and take “a cleansing shower” in the washroom before we began our carnal adventure. Then she added, “Once we’re done, Dean, we’ll take a sexy shower for two to finish the night in style.” I heartily approved of that idea.
When I came back into the Gabriels’ living room, sporting the beginnings of an erection because I was already excited about the idea of screwing this living doll, Diana was already undressed. She led me by the hand to a room dominated by an enormous and very soft bed. Marie asked me what I thought of my bedmate. I answered, “She’s drop-dead gorgeous, of course, but I wish I could have watched Diana take off her clothing. I find little strip shows like that to be extremely arousing.”
“That’s great feedback, Dean. Thanks for letting Diana know your preferences.” Amusingly, mother ordered daughter to get back into her gold peignoir and then slowly take it off while I gawked. Yes, it was still sexy even though I had already seen Diana in her birthday suit. We then got into bed. I resisted the urge to shout “Yippee!” as our bodies touched.
I wanted to caress and fondle Diana’s finest assets to start things off somewhat romantically. I wrapped my arms around her and put her into a “spoons” position so I could handle her lovely tits comfortably. I told her she had a wonderful set of jugs with excellent nipples that would turn on any normal male. I suppose she already knew that, but Marie reminded her to thank me for the compliment. My penis was fully erect and I slid it between the cheeks of her bottom while I continued to squeeze her breasts for the pure fun of it.
“I just have to suck on those beauties now, Diana,” I told her as I flipped her over. Without me asking, she immediately started to fondle my equipment. She began with my testicles and eventually ran both her hands up and down my shaft. I would have been quite content if my “session” with Diana had ended there, but my fun was really just beginning!
I teased Diana’s nipples with my tongue, alternating breasts every 20 seconds or so, before sucking on them in the same manner. It was quite heavenly for me. I suppose I could have been content doing that for hours—I wasn’t sure if I had a time limit on my fun with Diana—but she suggested I “deserved a blowjob” for helping her mother at the bank. I was going to say it was a small act of courtesy, but I was afraid such a statement might cause Diana to change her mind about giving me oral sex. Therefore, we switched positions on the bed, and I let her stimulate my rod with her welcoming mouth.
Diana was marvelous at fellatio! I didn’t need to say anything to Marie. She could tell I was in paradise based on my lustful and satisfied groans of desire. Diana was wise enough to use the tip of her tongue on the tip of my penis to give me extreme pleasure. I loved the fact that she was quite intense when working on my rod. Diana had beautiful sky-blue eyes that seemed locked in to whatever sex act she was performing at the moment. She had chosen her new profession well, it would seem.
“Ride it now, please, Diana!” I politely suggested, knowing full well that an extended blowjob would make me ejaculate prematurely.
“Of course!” she replied. “I’m here to make you feel good, Dean.”
“You’re doing a wonderful job so far!” I happily told her.
I was impressed by how effortlessly Diana impaled herself on my erection and slid up and down with ease. I put my hands on her waist to guide her, which probably was unnecessary. After about a minute, I used my hands to grope Diana’s jiggling tits, paying special attention to her stiff nipples.
“I’m going to come soon—and it’s going to be a huge load!” I told Diana after four or five minutes of her riding me.
“Thanks for the warning!” she said. With about 10 seconds to spare, Diana disengaged from my penis. She jerked me off to a sensational climax. My dick shot warm goo on most of her torso. “I aimed it there,” she informed me. “I love the feel of cum all over my body—especially in my tits. It’s a fetish of mine.” Upon hearing that remark, I reversed positions with Diana and smeared my cum shot residue all over her sexy breasts. I had been going flaccid for a few seconds, but rubbing Diana’s jugs with my sperm deposit had the marvelous effect of turning me on again.
Marie intervened to let me know I had done well. (I knew that already, of course!) I said I had no complaints with Diana as a bedmate—except for her initially depriving me of a sexy striptease, which was corrected. Diana informed me that an ejaculation often meant the end of a fling with a hooker regardless of the time left on the clock, but she said, “You’re an exception, Dean. You are a really sweet guy. We can fuck some more, if you like,” she said, apparently seriously.
“Yes, I think I would like that,” I replied while trying my best not to crack a smile.
I said I’d like to give her the most basic screw in the world—the standard missionary-style fuck.
“Yeah, I think I’m familiar with that position!” Diana joked.
I loved riding her, watching her breasts bounce to the rhythm we were jointly creating with our copulating, seeing the expression of joy on her face, and looking into her wonderful and captivating blue eyes. What a night! Some 25 minutes later I fired another blast of jism—again on her torso because that’s where Diana liked it best. It wasn’t as huge as the first one, but it was nothing to sneeze at, either. I was so engrossed in my fucking that I hadn’t noticed that Marie had left us alone. Diana said she also hadn’t noticed her mother’s absence. As promised, Diana and I had a sexy shower for two. I loved washing her body parts. I couldn’t resist licking her pussy. With warm water soothing us, Diana made me come for a third time, with another blow job. This time I came in her mouth, quite by accident, but this ejaculation was a mere dribble when compared to the first two I had produced.
Drying Diana with a fluffy towel was almost as much fun as washing her. She seemed to enjoy it too, which I mentioned to Marie when we got together for cold drinks before I left.
I was starting to put on my jacket when Marie handed me an envelope. “This is the very envelope I forgot to take to the bank today. It should contain exactly the $200 I borrowed from you.
I was reluctant to accept it. I asked what the girls’ typical rate for their services was. They said, almost in unison, $100 per hour. That was a bit pricey by 1985 standards, but well worth it when the Gabriel females were the sex providers.
I said, “Please keep the $200 as an advance payment for future use. I’m paying for one fuck with mother and another one with daughter. I’ve got your business card, Marie. I’ll call you in about a week when I’m fully recovered from this outing.”
That news brought smiles to both Marie and Diana. Then I paused for a moment and corrected myself. I said, “Perhaps ten days is a better estimate.”
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