56674...Cliff...Oakburn...60
Caris savored the thrill that ran through her each time she got a text notifying her of an impending encounter. Today's tryst was set for a large-scale construction site on Oakburn Avenue. The site was a hotel construct halfway to completion; the hint of snow in the air guaranteed that the plasterers would not be there until the forecast changed. The entire place was full of nooks and crannies for anyone looking for a bit of privacy. She'd met another Client there once before, early in the summer.
Caris stole a glance at her reflection in the rearview mirror as her SL65 Black idled at the red light. Beneath her $2000 Louis Vuitton Diva Snood, lush black tresses framed features that rivaled the most finely carved teak statuette. Wide, Audrey Hepburn style tinted sunglasses shaded expertly applied mascara that made her eyes seem smoky and deep. In short, Caris acknowledged without shame, she was stunning.
It didn't matter that she would not meet with Client 56674 again after today. Clients were never matched up more than once, no matter how well they hit it off. Still, she wanted to impress the hell out of 56674. The very first visual he got of her would not only set the tone for their encounter, but it would create a sensual memory that she was certain he would recall repeatedly in the days that followed.
Caris could attest to that fact. She had been fortunate enough in her time with the service to have enjoyed an encounter or two that still resonated in her mind. From her first glance at them she had known those particular men would be a cut above the norm.
Eagerly her thoughts flew to the upcoming encounter. According to the pricey Mercedes Benz's navigation system, she was only moments away from Oakburn... and Client 56674. Caris hoped that he would have a touch of salt and pepper in his hair. She had a weakness for older men who were comfortable in their skin, gray hair and all. She had specified, when she filled out the original questionnaire, that she only be matched up with men at least twenty years her senior. Though chronologically only 35 years in age, Caris felt years older. She had neither time nor patience for men her own age.
Taking a deep breath, she quelled the giddy anticipation that tried to override her normally calm demeanor. This wasn't her first encounter. She wouldn't behave as though it was. Smoothly she maneuvered the Mercedes onto the construction site and down the roughly made access road. She didn't bother to treat the $300,000 car gently. For what she'd paid for it, it had better be capable of withstanding a little abuse.
Caris parked beside the idling sports car already in place. It was a late model Bugatti; the steering wheel was easily visible on the right side of the car. The sight of it heightened Caris' already considerable excitement. Not only was Client 56674 an older man, but he seemed to be one of both taste and means. She was not impressed by the prospect of riches, she came from an comfortably wealthy clan herself. No, the thought that her tryst mate might be wealthy increased the odds that Caris would be fucked by someone experienced enough and sexually generous to insure her pleasure as well as his own.
A shiver ran down her spine.
The service allowed only thirty minutes for these encounters; they were quite strict about that particular rule. Over time Caris had learned to streamline anything that wasted precious moments of these forbidden trysts. She reached under her slender designer dress and slipped her silk panties from her hips. She slipped them into the car's glovebox and then popped a wintergreen breath mint into her mouth. There was no kissing allowed during these arranged encounters with strangers, but there was no reason her breath could not be pleasant.
The resonant chime of the Mercedes' alarm system seemed loud to Caris' ears. Still, she thought, it unwittingly served as a kind of doorbell to alert Client 56674 of her arrival. She squared her shoulders confidently and made her way across the uneven turf to the agreed-upon spot. With each step Caris felt her pulse race and her body grow wetter and wetter.
"43434?" A raspy masculine voice growled softly from the shadows as Caris paused in the doorway of the half completed space.
"56674?" Caris responded in kind.
"Yes." Caris' eyes widened as a wildly handsome man of about sixty stepped out the shadows. His silver mane was a fitting frame to a face so handsome that it verged on the beautiful. He wore a tailored mohair coat and leather gloves whose softness Caris could see from where she stood. "Shall we engage?" the man asked, reaching for his belt. His voice held just the faintest lilt of an Irish brogue. Caris found it sexy as hell.
"Yes," she replied. "Let us engage." Caris removed her dark sunglasses and headgear, allowing her thick tresses to cascade free.
"Ellyn?" The harsh exclamation grabbed Caris' attention. Client 56674 stared at her, his pants unzipped and an expression of absolute shock and dismay on his face.
"Nooo," Caris replied, puzzled. "I'm Caris, her twin sister." Like lightning the pieces began to fall into place for Caris. The man's accent, his obviously European car, his recognition of her sister, the unwelcome conversations Ellyn had forced upon her the last few weeks...
A wicked grin began to spread across the young psychiatrist's face. "Oh, my... This is too good to be true." She stuck out her hand to the still-shocked man. "I know this is against the rules, but let me introduce myself. I am Caris St. John. And you, unless I'm grossly mistaken, are the man who married my mother last week."
"This isn't what-"
"Relax," Caris interrupted him with a wave of her hand. "The stepfather thing isn't a deal-breaker for me," she laughed. "I just need a moment to take in the irony."
