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He was typing, taking forever to send a few more words into cyberspace that would eventually get to me. He knew I loved seeing him, or more so, him seeing me."I expected you to be ready by now."I shook my head at his words. Tease. I was ready, and we both knew I was. I set my tablet to lean against the headboard of my bed, pressing onto his chat window on the tablet and quickly started the phone call. The dialtone only rang once before it fell quiet and he appeared on screen. He must've been waiting, for him to answer my call so quickly. He smiled and so did I. I only needed a second to adjust the camera, making sure I was in screen before I sat back down again."I'm sorry, I fell asleep." I said with a slight chuckle. He just smiled as he leaned back into his chair, brushing his hand through his messy dark hair. "Did you miss me?" I asked, my fingers brushing over the neckline of my tshirt. "I always do." He answered, giving me another smile. His voice always drove me crazy, it. But unlike nearly every other courtesan we had ever heard of, I catered exclusively to women. Some were students from school, namely the very rich women I had deflowered who had since married old rich men who could not pleasure them. Others were women who had made the right discrete inquiries to find me. A few were sent by a particular doctor friend of Eleanor’s, who sent them to me to deal with their ‘women problems’. My neighbors merely thought I was a most popular member of the Ton, and extended many invitations. It was rather amusing to find myself in the best homes and the best parties, surrounded by my clients and their unsuspecting husbands. I seduced new clients in dark hallways and deserted rooms during those years. It became a challenge to see how many different ways I could seduce my clients within the same houses as their husbands. One I am sad to report I rarely get to indulge myself in given the sorry state of society at this time. I was shameless and was once able to.
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The smile lit up his face, making him almost glow. The smile wasn’t perfect, but that’s what made it real. I smiled back as he walked up to me. We hugged, just holding each other for a moment. We really didn’t think this was going to come together, but here he was. Breaking the embrace first, he gently stepped back. ‘It’s really good to see you,’ he said. The smile was still there, but softer. Bit of a sensual look there, a wicked part of my mind said. I told that part of my mind to shut up for the moment. His tenor voice held a bit of roughness from what he had told me was a recently-quit 15-year addiction to cigarettes. That’s a voice I could wake up to, that same wicked part of me chimed up, refusing to be tamed. Ignoring it, I said to Pat: ‘It’s really good to have you. I take it the flight was all right?’ He grinned. ‘Better than that. If American airlines had service half as good as Qantas, none of them would be bankrupt.’ We then proceeded to my car, he had only brought one.

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