Chapter 3
The offices of Dream-Date Incorporated were located on the west end of the Sunset Strip, a ten minute drive from Vern's own office. A relatively new firm, Dream-Date occupied only two suites on the tenth floor of the high-rise building. Vern arrived promptly at 2:00 pm and sat reading a magazine in the luxurious, hyper-modem reception room. After about ten minutes, the middle-aged, conservative-looking receptionist said, "Mr. Gregory will see you now, sir." Then she led him down the short hallway to an open office door and stood gesturing at an enormous desk, behind which sat a handsome, distinguished-looking, well-dressed man of about forty.
"Mr. Vernon Shipley," the receptionist said with much pomp, "our president, Mr. Lance Gregory."
Lance Gregory stood, and they shook hands. Vern noted that Gregory's smile was forced, and his gray-green eyes were without animation.
"Please call me Lance," Lance Gregory said, his voice a radio announcer purr. "Our relationship should be as relaxed as possible."
"Fine," Vern said, smiling. "I'm Vern."
Lance Gregory sat down, and Vern sat in the leather chair directly in front of the huge desk. Lance Gregory leaned back in his chair and crossed his hands behind his neck. "Soooo," he intoned, "just how might we be of service to you, Vern?"
Vern told him of his desire for a "showpiece" in connection with his business social affairs. He told Lance Gregory he wanted a beautiful female who could not only further his career by her very presence at social functions, but that he wanted a woman who knew the right things to say and not to say-a woman who could make everything from "small talk" with clients' wives, when necessary, to deeper discussions when it seemed appropriate. He was embarrassed at first, but Gregory's nodding reassured him as he spoke, and he felt certain he had explained his needs fully by the time he finished.
"I guess I'm the original chauvinist," Vern said, finally, "but that's the sort of woman I'm looking for. Is such a woman available?"
Lance Gregory raised his steel-gray eyebrows, grinning almost evilly. "Chauvinist?" he said. "Vern, we're all chauvinists. Yes, you've come to the right place. What you are seeking is precisely what Dream-Date is all about. Your requirements, however, will require our very top lady." Lance's sapphire pinkie ring and lacquered nails twinkled. He paused, and Vern decided to get the essentials out of the way immediately.
"How much?" Vern asked.
"Our fees, of course, vary from job to job, Vern. Tell you what. Why don't I let you interview the lady I have in mind for you?" He winked, but still his eyes remained expressionless. "After our preliminary discussion-brief as it was on the phone-I took the liberty of arranging for Miss Maria Reese to be present today."
Vern was impressed with the efficiency of Dream-Date. He smelled an exorbitant fee in the wind, however. Still, he had proceeded this far....
"Let me introduce Miss Reese to you, Vern. See if you think she'll fill your needs. Discuss anything you wish with her. I don't think you'll be disappointed."
"Very well," Vern said.
Smiling his non-smile, Lance Gregory pressed a button on the panel on his desk. Pretty slick, Vern thought, and almost immediately one of the most striking females he had ever seen entered the room. Maria Reese literally took his breath away. Her make-up, attire, everything, were conservative, but she oozed class and sex-appeal. She was green-eyed, with shiny raven-black hair, and as she stood there, holding her hand out after Gregory's introduction, Vern found himself kissing her hand. Instinctively, he had done her bidding! There was no trace of "the street" in her melodious, well-modulated voice, and none of the phony "sorority house drawl" either. Her smile was sincere, revealing perfect white teeth, and she wore a lightweight, white knit-suit with blue trim. She held white gloves, too.
When Lance Gregory diplomatically left the office, Maria sat on the denim-and-leather sofa, crossing her legs and revealing an expanse of inner thigh that took Vern's breath away. He feasted his eyes on her ample bosom, the curve of her hips for perhaps too long before he cleared his throat and said, "Well, uh, you seem to be pretty much what I had in mind, Miss Reese. Do you mind if-"
"Please call me Maria," Maria Reese said.
"All right, Maria," Vern said. "Do you mind if we just discuss assorted subjects at random? I have a special reason for this."
"Not at all," Maria said. "Fire away, sir."
The girl was truly amazing. First, Vern led her through discussions of music, literature, painting. Then he queried her on her political knowledge and views. She was incredible! Not only did she know far more than he on these topics, but she remained feminine, diplomatic and inoffensive while, at the same time, avoiding fence-straddling.
Finally, blushing, he said, "You seem to be just what I had in mind, Maria. You see, I need someone who will bolster my image, appeal to both my male clients and their watchful wives. Yes, I think you're fine in every respect."
"In every respect?" she inquired, smiling. "How do you know? Won't you please come and sit here beside me for a moment, Mr. Shipley?"
He obeyed, and the instant he took his place beside her, she put her arm up on the back of the sofa and blew into his ear. "Now that we've established that I'm a lady-an intelligent and well-informed lady-I feel it pertinent to inform you that Dream-Date takes into account all of a client's needs." She laughed. "Oh, don't worry, Vern. I promise not to rape you or your male clients. I merely want you to know that I am aware that you may require a variety of services."
Her hand was on his knee. Vern swallowed.
"You see, I am trained to know how, when, and where to use my various abilities. With you, or with your male clients. Discreetly."
Vern felt his prick rising. He began to squirm in response to Maria's roving hand. Good God! thought. Where has Dream-Date been all my life? "I understand," he said. "Yes, that might be necessary in some Instances."
"You're probably wondering why an operation of the high calibre of Dream Date is leveling with you this way," she said directly.
"As a matter-of-fact, you read my mind," Vern said. "Yes."
"You've been checked out very thoroughly, Vernon Shipley. You run a most successful and profitable business. You need Dream-Date. No, you are not a man to play games with. You are an extremely intelligent, capable and aggressive man. Most important, you are not the police. Therefore, I am at liberty to level with you. I am completely at your disposal, and you may trust me absolutely."
Maria Reese rose then, crossed the room and straightened an oil painting on the wood-paneled wall. Then she returned, sat down, and asked him if he would care to engage her services.
"Definitely," he said. "That is, unless the fee is out of the question."
"The fee will be high," she said. "You may count on that. But then you have much to gain." Once again, her hand was on his leg. "I am not a prostitute, Vern," she said. "At least not an ordinary one. I mean, you have much to gain businesswise and-and well, there are certain fringe benefits, too." Her hand actually fondled his prick now. "Do you understand?"
"How could I not understand?" Vern said, reaching out, fondling her breast and kissing her full, moist, and beckoning lips.
Vern's heart sounded like a bass drum to his own ears. "I-I wish there was some way of-"
She shushed his lips with her index finger. "Say no more, Vern. This is extraordinary, but under the circumstances I feel you are entitled to a sampling of the-the entire package. Wine-tasting establishments are flourishing these days. I see no reason why there cannot be a little client-tasting." She stared sensually into his eyes. "What will it be, Vern?" Her hand groped more firmly at his bone-hard erection now.
Vern glanced nervously at the door.
"You needn't worry about our being disturbed. I am given complete latitude in these matters, Vern. Mr. Gregory or anyone, for that matter, will not disturb Maria Reese's interview with a potential client This is a very high-level interview. I can assure you of that. Furthermore, whether you believe me or not, I insist on informing you that I've never engaged in this sort of conduct with a client before today."
"Please, that isn't n-necessary," Vern said, nearly insane from her stimulation of his prick.
She shrugged, rolling her eyes. "Very well," she purred. "Believe whatever you like. I'm telling you the truth, though."
"All right," Vern gasped. "I-I believe you."
Maria's very smooth and loving hand then unzipped his fly and removed his prick. Her slim fingers were cool against the heat of his throbbing meat.
'What would you like to do, Vern? Anything? Free of charge and without obligation? Just tell me what you want. A man of your character and position is entitled to one sampling." She squeezed his rigid organ in her hand. "You're a very virile man, so what will it be?"
Vern was trembling all over. This incredibly beautiful female beside him had him wanting to do everything! He was literally mad with desire. He managed to stammer: "You mentioned wine-tasting-w-well, I want to t-taste y-you. Yes, I want to-to lick between your legs."
Vern was surprised at his own choice of words. His request had just come tumbling out
"Very well," Maria said, breathing a bit harder herself, Vern noticed. "How do you want me? Shall I strip my clothes off? Do you want to undress me? Or perhaps you'd just like me to stand with one leg up on the arm of the sofa, so you can kneel down and just-well, just lap my pussy in that position."
Vern swallowed, his trembling actually violent now. "You know everything, don't you?" he said. "You knew what I wanted to do to you before I even thought of it myself. You know everything, everything."
Already Vern was sliding off the sofa to his knees. Maria took his face tenderly in her hands and placed her left leg up on the sofa arm. "Well, I-I don't know everything, but I do know a lot. I know what I represent in many men's minds, and I did guess that you might like what you're about to do. I like it too, Vern...I love it...go ahead and lick...yes, lick...I think you'll find it's the tastiest pussy you've ever eaten...go ahead, Vern...now!"
Vern unbuttoned Maria's skirt, made her take her leg down while he removed skirt, panties, garter belt, then stared in awe at the curved perfection of her lower torso. He was tempted to tell her to bare her breasts, but he restrained himself. He didn't want to be too pushy. He didn't want to do anything that might possibly "put her off," even though he suspected she would permit anything, just as she had promised. Still, he didn't want to be a pig. No. Already he held her firm, rounded ass in his hands as he inhaled the fragrance of her pubic mound. Her high heels were still on, and for some reason, he loved the idea of "eating" her while she was still dressed.
Yes, this was a first all right-in many ways. First, he had never touched such a beautiful woman; second, he had never licked a woman's vagina while she stood, partially dressed. He lifted her right leg beneath the knee now so that it once again rested up on the sofa arm. And then he began tonguing-tasting-gulping gently at her crotch from her clitoris to her tailbone.
Her hands on his cheeks tightened and she sighed, moaned, whimpered. "Yes, Vern. Oh, you know just how to-to gobble a girl. Oh, God! Eat my cunt, Vern! Eat it! You love it, don't you? And it feels heavenly!"
The taste of Maria's vagina was like no crotch he had ever gobbled. Was it his imagination, he wondered, or did it actually have a sweet flavor? And gamy, too. like venison. Angel-vension-slick-gushing-sweet! Groaning, he devoured her large clitoris as she continued to spur him on with verbal directions and those cool, soft hands on his cheeks. "Lick it, Vern! Lap it good, Vern! Suck!"
After several minutes of this, Vern could not stand the limitation of the position. He spread her out on the sofa, shoved her knees up against her breasts and gorged himself on the juicy cunt with increased maniacal frenzy .Her voice rose shrilly and her nails dug into his ears, neck, scalp as her pleasure mounted. If it was an act, he didn't care!
She was screaming now, totally unaware that she was in an office with a secretary, just down the hall, and a boss nearby, too. Finally, she insisted on reversing herself on the couch and lying on her side. Instinctively, he knew what she wanted. He lay on the couch on his side also, and the sixty-nining began. She made hungry, gulping, desperate nursing sounds as she sucked his pulsing shaft.
And then again as if by ESP, Vern ceased his munching on her cunt and tugged her ass to the edge of the sofa. It was time for the fucking. What had begun as wine-tasting-client-tasting-was now a Roman feast, an orgy, a fuck-fest!
As he slid his throbbing member into the surprisingly snug vagina, he felt his eyeballs press against the top of his head from the intense heat of this woman. He let his rod loiter within the gushing inferno, savoring its heat and texture for a moment, and then he made fists of his hands and placed them beneath Maria's ass.
"Yes, fuck me, Vern!" she cried. "You're doing it all just right. I-I couldn't ask for more. Ohhhh, yesss, give me that big, hard prick! Fuck mel"
Her head was waving from side to side as she pleaded for him to stick her, drive his gristle hunk into the depths of her twat. Vern's pants were about his ankles, his feet on the floor. He was supporting himself with both hands on the cushions of the sofa, his feet (shoes still on) on the floor and, of course, his pelvis bone pressed tightly to Maria's.
His leverage was excellent, and he put it to good use. He began gently, then pumped almost savagely in response to her command to "come down hard!"
He had never fucked a woman who wanted him to "come down hard." She kept begging him to come down "harder, harder, harder," and he complied, driving his hard-on furiously, piston-like, into the depths of her. She wanted no gentleness; she wanted to be battered by his pelvis, rammed until "I can feel my bone crack! Oh, please-harder...give me all you've got!"
To his amazement, Vern liked fucking hard this way. He had always considered himself a gentle lover, and so it had taken a minute to adjust, but now he was reveling in the force of his hip thrusts. He drove savagely, while Maria muttered four-letter words through clenched teeth in his ear and pummeled his humping buttocks with her heels. Finally, she announced screamingly that she was coming. He held back until he was certain she had reached the heights, then sped up his cock jabs until he orgasmed, too, just seconds after Maria's climax.
Panting, Vern dropped his knees to the floor, his hard-on slipping from the hot sheath of Maria's pussy. He wanted to let his member linger within her contracting hole, but he was exhausted from the all-out fucking and had to rest. He lay his cheek on her spasming stomach and breathed deeply, trying to regain his breath.
Finally, when they were both breathing more normally, Maria kissed him affectionately, said their lovemaking had been "heavenly" and went into Lance Gregory's private washroom. When she returned, Vern used the restroom, too.
They both dressed then and sat, satiated and smiling, there on the sofa. "We were in quite a rush," Maria said. "This sofa folds into a bed, you know. We could have pulled the thing out for greater comfort."
"Who was thinking of comfort?" Vern asked, grinning and patting her cheek. He frowned. "I thought you said you didn't usually make love to Dream-Date's new prospects?"
"I never did before," she said, "but I do know this sofa folds into a bed. Mr. Gregory informed all the Dream-Date girls of this fact. He gives the girls much latitude in handling their prospects, but thus far I simply haven't used the sofa for this sort of thing. Actually, I haven't had to."
Vern scanned her incredibly voluptuous body. The hills and valleys of flesh were perfection. "Yes, I can well imagine," he said. "But I don't understand...why me?"
She shrugged. "Who knows? Can you explain why it is some women turn you on more than others? Probably not. Well, neither can I. You see, I like intelligent men-sensitive men-men who have accomplished something and are successful. Not only do you qualify in this respect, but you're handsome, sexy, and you have other attributes I require." She reached out and gave his organ, limp now inside his pants, a squeeze. "You gotta pretty neat one there, Mr. Vernon Shipley."
"Thank you, ma'am. You're nicely equipped also, but then of course you know that. Guys have probably been worshipping you since-since puberty."
She stared into his eyes boldly. "That's true," she said.
Vern suddenly sat erect, forcing himself to be serious, business-like. "I'll level with you, Maria," Vern said. "You're even more than I'd hoped for. As far as I'm concerned it's a sale. Til be needing you beginning this coming Friday night. Are you availableF'
"I rather suspect I'll make myself available," she said. "I am working with two other clients right now-nothing physical you understand-but I can wrap up my contracts with them by Friday. Shall I call Mr. Gregory and let him finalize the arrangements?"
"Yes," Vern said, nodding. "But I'll want you exclusively for myself. That's just the way I am. I-I wish there wasn't this business of the pimp to spoil an otherwise perfect arrangement."
Vern knew he was being unreasonable. The "pimp" remark had been unnecessary, to say the least, but he had not been able to suppress the word. To his surprise, Maria's expression hardened.
"Mr. Lance Gregory is not a pimp, Vern. Our relationship is going to be excellent-we both know that-but please make no more references to him in that manner, all right? I mean, he is my employer and the president of Dream-Date."
"Sorry," Vern said. "It just slipped out. Yes, go ahead and tell him to come in."
Maria went to Lance Gregory's desk and pushed the same button Lance had pushed when summoning Maria earlier. As they waited for Lance's entrance, Vern went over to the oil painting on the wall that Maria had straightened just before their lovemaking. It was a huge painting of a Spanish nobleman, a portrait. The man was dressed in a maroon-velvet coat with lace ruffles at the sleeve. Scrutinizing it closely, Vern saw that one of the eyes seemed different from the other.
Maria was staring at the door, waiting for Lance Gregory's entrance, so he ran his finger over the right eye of the portrait. It was a peep hole! He was certain of it! So Lance Gregory was a Peeping Tom, he thought. It angered him that his session with lovely Maria had been observed-probably by Gregory. He hoped this wasn't so, but the evidence seemed pretty overwhelming. Well, once he began seeing Maria alone there would be no more of that, he thought. Most important, he didn't like the idea that Maria had possibly been a part of the scheme. Well, she is his employee, he rationalized.
Lance Gregory knocked lightly on the door, then waited a moment and entered.
'Well, have you completed your interview?" he asked Vern.
"Yes," Vern replied. "I think Miss Reese will do very nicely."
"Good," Lance said. "Would you mind stepping out, dear, while Mr. Shipley and I discuss the arrangements?"
"Not at all," Maria said, blowing a kiss at Vern that went unseen by Lance Gregory. The scent of her cologne lingered after her exit.
Lance Gregory sat behind his desk and listened while Vern told him when and where and how often he would be requiring the services of Maria Reese. When he had finished, Gregory told him a $2500 deposit would be required and that her nightly fee would be $200. There would be a clause in the contract, too, that would permit Dream-Date to bill Vern for "extraordinary services."
"That much, eh?" Vern said. Actually, he had prepared himself for just about that amount. "And the $2500," he said. "Is it refundable, or what?"
"Most definitely," Gregory said. "Once Maria's services have been completed, the total depositless outstanding fees, of course-is totally refundable," he paused. "I cannot provide you with references unfortunately, Vern, because you understand that our relationship is entirely confidential. like a lawyer or a doctor, we do not reveal information to anyone, under any circumstances regarding our clients-in our case, not even their names." He chuckled, but again there was no animation to either the sound or the facial movement. "You understand that many of our clients are very important people in this city-most of them married."
"Yes, I understand," Vern said, taking his checkbook from his coat pocket. He did not like Lance Gregory, but he sure as hell liked Maria Reese.
"Twenty-five hundred," he said, beginning to write. "And how shall I make it out? To Dream-Date Incorporated?"
"No, to Lance Gregory will be fine," Gregory said.
"Yes, or course," Vern said, making no effort to hide his displeasure at making the check a personal one.
Lance Gregory pushed the button on his desk and told his secretary to draw up the necessary contract between Vernon Shipley and Dream-Date. Vern glanced at his watch. "I really must be returning to my office," he said. "Will the contract take long?"
Gregory stood up. "You run along then, Vern. We'll mail the contract to you. No problem. Just call us and tell us when and where you'll want Maria. She's yours exclusively-for as long as you'll require her services."
As Vern left the offices of Dream-Date Incorporated, he wondered how Lance Gregory knew he wanted Maria on an "exclusive" basis. He had not mentioned a desire to engage her "exclusively," except when he and Maria had been alone.
So Lance Gregory had been spying-listening and watching him and Maria Reese make love in the office. What did it mean? Was Lance Gregory merely a Peeping Tom, or did he have other reasons for eavesdropping on Dream-Date's clients? Blackmail, for instance. Well, at least I'm not married, Vern thought. He couldn't attack me on that level.
Vern retrieved his Continental from the subterranean garage and headed back for his office in Beverly Hills.