Return to

Home Page

NEW AUTHORS SHOWCASE

 

 

12M

p3

Dawnsearlylite

By

Arvind Kumar

 

Dawn’s heart pumped faster than usual. Maybe it was the adrenaline or the luxe surroundings of the Hyatt Downtown Montréal. Perhaps it was the exotic sequined jacket she had just purchased that afternoon on the Rue Saint Laurent., It didn’t matter. Stepping into the elevator, Dawn pressed the button for the main lobby, which, unlike most Montréal hotels, was on the fifth floor. She walked across through something like huge salon, glittering with Swarovski crystal chandeliers, trying not to bring attention to herself. The hotel staff could recognize a hooker from a mile away, even one whose days were spent instructing the city’s youth in reading, writing and mathematics.

Not that Dawn disliked being a schoolteacher. She just needed some excitement to liven up her nights. Turning tricks accomplished that. And the money, which was great, helped feed her appetite for luxurious accoutrements.

Tom made sure that she had plenty of those. He had paid for her breast implants and exorbitant fee for plastic surgeons fervently making world a beautiful place.

Tom's brainchild, Passion Escorts, provided the cream of Montréal's crop of gorgeous young women to the elite sector of the city’s male population. It was a service, he always emphasized to Dawn, and he was proud of it. Dawn was treated well, perhaps better than the other girls, for she was his favorite. She brought a lot of business to the agency, and happy clients always called back to see her again and again. She didn’t even have to split her tips with him. Clients who requested sessions of one hour always ended up keeping her for two or three. That was why Dawn didn't put herself out when Tom had called that Friday night. She could afford to be blasé, and she wasn't impressed by his masculine voice

“I have a nice client for you," he had said.

“Yeah? Nice enough to interrupt ‘Friends’? Rachel and Ross just got it on in the Natural History Museum.”

Tom ignored her. . “He’s at the Hyatt Downtown. Anglophone.”

“He damn well better be.” She didn’t serve Francophones.

“A doctor, Indian accent. Very nervous on the phone, so put on the kid gloves, okay?”

“Yeah, whatever.” She yawned.

“When can you be ready?”

“Take it royally easy. I’ll be downstairs when you get here.”

Dawn switched off the TV and shuffled to the bedroom. She was not going to rush through her make-up routine just because Tom was pressuring her. If he had to light more than one cigarette waiting for her in the car… Well, tant pis. She was just putting the finishing touches on her blonde mane when the downstairs buzzer jolted her. She grimaced but put on her most cheerful voice to respond.

“I’ll be right down.”

It was going to be a long night.

When Dawn emerged from the front entrance of her new condo building on Avenue Victoria, Tom was puffing away as she had expected. She peered into the back seat, where Jeanne-Marie and Claudette were taking the last drags on their cigarettes. Sliding into the front seat next to Tom, Dawn suppressed a smirk and tossed a glance at the two women.

“Tough night, girls?” She turned to Tom. “Sometimes I wonder why you’re in this freaking line of work, driving around all night.”

Tom flashed a disapproving look at Dawn and murmured under his breath. “What else would I do? I’m an entrepreneur. Besides, it’s fun.”

“Yeah, right.” Dawn cranked open her window, a defense against the cigarette smoke.

Tom shivered from the icy air coming into the car. “And by the way, how come you were late?”

“Since when are you worried? They’re always willing to wait. As long as they get what they want, right?”

He sighed. She knew how to butter her bread - and burn the clients’ toast.

Despite the usual Friday night downtown traffic congestion, they managed to reach the Hyatt in record time. Tom pulled up in front and dialed his cell. “She’s at the front door.” He clicked off and gave Dawn a determined look. “Remember my instructions, okay?”

“You’re the boss.”

Yeah, right.     

 

2.

 

Dawn crossed the lobby to the elevators that would take her to the upper floors and realized her excitement stemmed from the prospect of sleeping with a rich married doctor. Married was her preference: with a few exceptions, married men treated her best and were less demanding, probably because they had long since been unable to get anything at all from their wives. But a married doctor was capable of generous tips if she performed to his satisfaction, and money thrilled her more than anything else in life. That, and the anticipation of the unknown.

You never know who you might meet behind those doors.

The danger and anonymity thrilled her, took her to an extraordinary high every time. It was an addiction. Sex, money and intrigue. It didn’t get any better.

The elevator stopped at the 19^th floor. Dawn rambled down the hallway, searched for room 1912. She forced her body to relax, but she could feel her face flush warm and her heart galloped as she knocked on the door. Her client peered through the keyhole viewer. She certainly couldn’t miss his jaw dropping when he opened the door and took a look at her. She smiled. As a child in New Brunswick, she had always enjoyed being admired. In adulthood, she was a package worthy of awe. Shoulder length blonde-auburn hair, small soft chin, high cheek bones, tiny pixie nose, blue eyes you could get lost in and a body that didn’t quit always mesmerized anyone who came within view of her. Not to mention her clients.

“I’m from the agency.” The warmth of her smile enveloped him. The tinkling of her voice hypnotized him. After a moment, he came to his senses.

“Oh. Yes. I’m sorry, do come in.” He blushed. “I thought you were an angel. Dawn acknowledged his compliment with a soft laugh. “You can call me an angel if you like.”

She slipped into the room, taking a moment to admire the view. The careworn but historic buildings, the commercial centre of Montréal at the turn of the 20^th century, came alive in the soft glow of the setting sun. For her the world ended here, at the basin of the St. Lawrence River, where earth interfaced heaven. She was in love with her city.

“Before I forget, Doctor…”

“Sanjay.”

“Sanjay. Nice name.”

He blushed again. “What’s yours?”

“Dawn.”

She checked out his attributes. He wasn’t hard to look at. Nice face, wavy hair, dark complexion and athletic build but slender. Just the way she liked them. “I need to collect two hundred dollars, up front. Then I need to call my boss. Agency rules, you understand.”

“Yes. Of course.” He picked up his wallet from the bureau, pulled out two hundred dollar bills and handed them to her. She slipped them into her purse.

“Thank you. May I use your phone?”

Sanjay nodded towards the phone on the night table next to the bed. Then he undressed and sank onto the luxurious coverlet, watching as Dawn dialed and spoke in a soft murmur. After she hung up, she approached him, her efficient business expression softening, and laid her purse on the night table.

“You’re a handsome man. Married?” He nodded. “Handsome married men turn me on.” Again his face flushed. She liked that.

Different from my usual. Maybe.

Dawn removed her sequined jacket. “Let’s not waste any time. I like to give you your money’s worth.”

She unbuttoned her pink silk blouse and black skirt, revealing a bright red lace teddy that hugged the arches of her body like a racing car making love to a curvaceous track. She could see by the not so subtle changes in his anatomy that her lingerie was having the desired effect. Now started the high she was so addicted to. She let the straps fall. She allowed the teddy to drop to the floor, milked the striptease for all it was worth, showing off attributes that mesmerized him as they had done so to countless others: long neck, slender shoulders, well-toned arms, tiny waist, perfectly proportioned thighs and breasts, smooth, silky buttocks.

His eyes followed the flow of her torso, all the way down to her delicate feet, more provocative looking than any he had ever seen, then back up to her nipples, pink and prominent, standing to attention.

She caught his gaze and knew he ached to touch them. Kneeling before him, she kissed his chest  and fondled his nipples, licking each centimeter of his body until a tortured groan escaped his throat. By the time she got to his penis, he was screaming with desire, his heart pounding with the blood coursing through his veins.

She reached into her purse and pulled out a condom. He spoke in short gasps. “Do it… without.”

“Not on your life.”

But, really, is he nuts?

She could see he was disappointed.

“Maybe… Once I get to know you better.”

“Lie down with me…angel.”

She obeyed and let him caress her. She noticed at once how delicate his hands felt, a physician’s hands, hands that knew where to find the most responsive places on her body. He stroked and probed, at first gently, then with more intensity, her sensitive areas, from her forehead to her breasts. He fondled her nipples with his lips, teasing and licking, massaging her clitoris with his finger. His adeptness startled her. From his blushing, she had expected a novice, or at least a man who was more self-conscious about showing his expertise. That he certainly was not.

“You have beautiful eyes, angel.”

This brought her back to reality. She couldn’t afford to luxuriate in pleasure. She had a job to do. She pulled his face back from her breasts. “Fuck me.”

Now she could show her own skillfulness. A consummate actress in the bedroom, she lay back and let him enter her. But her frenzied screams came from deep within, and not from a need to put on a performance. Within seconds she was out of control, filling the room with the sounds of her pleasure. A voice inside told her to hold back, but she didn’t care who heard her.

“Harder, Sanjay. Faster. Give me everything. I want to be your fantasy.”

He needed no further urging. His body contorted, letting go of his pent-up passion. She closed her eyes, taking in the sound of his cry of release, and waited for him to relax. He gave one last shudder and collapsed next to her, exhausted...