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"Artis, Artis, hey." I heard the shout and turned around to see that obnoxious prick Jeremus Huwell, who had shared some classes with me at university. He was dressed in a natty suit that reeked expensive and climbing out of the drivers side of a black Porsche. Bastard! Then I noticed what was climbing out of the other side. She was tall, slim, blonde, very attractive and definitely classy while obviously some years older than he. Jeremus was about my age, 22, but she had to be in her late 30's early 40's. Sleekly dressed, her long legs levered out first followed by a gorgeous slim body with the top part of her suit showing plenty of creamy cleavage. She slung a black leather bag over her shoulder and waved at Jeremus and strode off in the direction of the mall.

Jeremus came around the car and reached out his hand to shake mine. My eyes were following her swiveling hips as she crossed the road and entered the shopping centre.

"Very nice," I said. "Funny though, I thought your mother was dark and short."

"She's not my mother, sport," he chortled, "I'm her boy, her kept man. I'm her live in dick. Rich as all get out, divorced about three times and randy as hell. I'm in paradise, man."

"How so? How did you get to that?" I asked, piqued. I mean, he wasn't the most handsome guy around-- in fact, without an impartial decision, I'm sure I was better than he. He wasn't as tall-- five nine to my six six, sandy blonde to my black hair, round features to my chiseled handsome profile, and, from memory of locker rooms past, average cock to my more than substantial.

"Art, when I got my degree, I tried every job in town and couldn't get past first base. Limited opportunities, many applicants with better qualifications. I ran into Boden Williams and he steered me to a certain Mrs. Cocker."

I was intrigued since I was much in the same boat. I had been doing the rounds for months with the same disappointing results. If it hadn't been for my mother and her wonderful income, I'd be living in some low rent boarding house and relying on social security.

"And?"
"Mrs. Cocker runs a male escort agency. Virtually on my second outing, I was more or less adopted by Sylvia." Jeremus gave a cheesy grin. "We hit it off big time. God she is insatiable and I have only been able to keep up with her due to the stamina of youth. She's damn near worn me out and I'm on vitamins and the odd black market Viagra to keep going. She's showered me with all sorts of goodies, including the Porsche, and look at this." He looked around, and sheltered by a phone box, quickly unzipped his fly and produced his cock that showed a distinct lipstick ring around the base. "The randy bitch sucked me off on the way here. I tell you, you can't beat these older dames."

I nodded and he continued.

"You remember how we used to try and get our end away with all those nubile young tarts and they would give us the brush off left, right and center. Preserving their precious virginity until they married money, the bitches! You remember we lined up to fuck that skallywag that time. What a waste of time! I remember you weren't last in line when they handed out the cock meat."

I had almost forgotten that. Truth be told, I'd had more pussy than I could handle but had not worried it about. Chicks appreciated discretion and that was my second name.

Jeremus was enthusiastically carrying on. "The first date I had was a bit disappointing really. She was big and just lay there when I put it to her. Still, I got my end away and was paid $300. The next time out, it was Sylvia, and whammo. We fucked 'til dawn and then she invited me to move in. Like greased lightning I was. She's paid for everything since. You should try it, Art." He spotted Sylvia returning swinging a Victoria's Secret shopping bag. "See ya - have this," and pressed a business card into my hand. Sylvia swished across the road and slid into the Porsche, leaning across to give Jeremus a big moist kiss, placing her hand high up on the inside of his thigh. They sped off.

The card read, "Discreet Gentlemen Escorts" and a telephone number. There was little resistance to my next action which was to pull out the cell and call. A low husky voice answered; "Discreet Gentlemen Escorts... may I help you?"

"Yes. My name is Artis Pope. I've been recommended to you by Jeremus Huwell, who I believe is one of your staff?"

"Why, yes he is. Would you like to come in for an interview, say at 2.15pm?"

I answered in the affirmative and received instructions directing me to an office block nearby.

 

 

******

The extremely smart office was located on the fourteenth floor. A young, well groomed receptionist led me into the main office. Behind a mahogany desk was a woman of somewhat indeterminate years, but good looking and expensively dressed.

"Well, hello. I'm, Sheila Cocker. I must say, you are rather better set up than young Jeremus. Tall, dark, handsome and athletic looking. Well and neatly dressed." She looked me up and down. "First impressions are always the best, and I'm certainly impressed. Please sit down and Crystal will bring us a coffee and then we can discuss business."

I sat and presently was served a steaming hot coffee by the very attractive Crystal. As she bent over, she managed to display a considerable amount of bra less cleavage, and very nice it was too. She gave a smirk when she saw where my eyes were focused. The skirt of her suit was definitely mini and I deftly appraised the beautiful shape of her legs and the dimpled backs of knees as she sashayed out of the office.

"Crystal is very attractive, isn't she?" asked Mrs. Cocker.

"Very nice. Was she a sort of test?"

"Goodness no. She is actually my daughter and a bloody big tease. Mind you, as a barometer of men, she is generally very good. You wouldn't have got the big show if she didn't find you attractive. Many a time I've terminated interviews after the coffee presentation because she has given me the thumbs down. She hasn't been wrong yet, although she was a bit ambivalent about your Mr. Huwell. Iffy at best, but Sylvia seems to like him. You won't have seen it but Crystal gave you the ten fingers. That is - ten out of ten. Very rare. Tell me about yourself."

I told her, but there wasn't really a lot to tell.

"Do you like men?"

I glared at her. "No, I certainly don't! I love women. The thought of being sexually involved with a man leaves me revolted, frankly."

"Well, that's a relief. Now what sort of women are you attracted to?"
I thought for a moment. "I honestly don't know. I've had a number of relationships with girls from college. I guess the youngest was about 18 and the oldest 26 or so. All shapes, all sizes really."

Mrs. Cocker looked at me steadily, probably assessing whether I was telling the truth. "Who took your virginity?"

Somewhat surprised by the question, I smiled and said, "I do believe that would be Mrs. Tomson the next door neighbor and she was in her forties. I was an easy mark since I was doing her gardening and wearing a permanent erection because she got around the place wearing almost nothing. In fact, we still get it on from time to time. Her son is one of my best friends and he doesn't suspect I've been fucking his mother."