North Shore

Fuck. Here I was beginning to blame Ken when he'd done nothing wrong. It wasn't his fault we were idiots on this whole threesome idea. Damn Chantrelle.

Wait a sec. If we had absolutely no clue what we were doing, then we obviously just needed to find someone who did. "We need a professional," I told Ken. "And you know what other than gambling is legal in Vegas." I opened the browser again and typed "Vegas escorts" into the search engine.

"You are not serious. You want to hire someone we've never met and have sex with them?"

"It makes sense. We're the No Clue Gang, while it's her job. We agreed we want it to be non-personal, which, by the way, means that we've never met them before," I pointed out by poking him in the leg. "How much more 'no strings' can you get than an escort?"

"No. Okay, for the first time tonight, I know something you don't about this. I've never been there but guys talk. You can walk down the strip and people will shove flyers into your hand for a girl in your room in 15 minutes. These must be poor women from over the border or something who may or may not even be here by choice. It's gross. We don't want any part of that."

"That really happens?"

Ken just nodded.

"Of course, you're right. You're always right. I guess we'll just wander around the city until some woman throws herself at us. It's worked so well for the last nine months."

"I know, Ashleigh. It's just..."

I agreed with Ken as I almost always did. I just didn't have any more ideas of what to do. Since us doing the smart thing wasn't working, it was time to do something stupid.

"There is the other end of the spectrum," Ken said, leaning towards the computer.

"Huh?"

"The super-expensive escorts. Click on that link there," he said, pointing. A well-designed web site with a picture of a stunning Caucasian brunette in a leopard dress came up. There were links to various categories of women. Blonde, brunette, ebony, Asian. "How about there?" Kenji asked pointing at the words "The Best". Thumbnails of about fifteen women came up, each one sexy in their own way, if maybe going a bit overboard with the "come do me" look. I selected the top one, a redhead like me but way better stacked. Wait, if I wore a D, she was a... whoa.

"Jazz," the ad read. "Available for men. Outcall. Stays possible with previous arrangement. I will pamper you like a woman should then blast you off to the moon, but be careful, fellas. Everyone comes back for more. You've been warned."

Ken had pulled up a chair and was reading intently. Well, maybe he wasn't exactly reading because Jazz was about to fall out of her dress.

"What do you think?" I asked.

"Nah, I've got a redhead. Besides even I can tell she's half plastic. We can go to a toy store for a Barbi Doll."

I had to smile. Jazz' bosom was doing more for me than it was for Ken. He'd always been a leg man. "What's her rate?"

"Seems you have to call."

The next woman had dark dark mocha skin that just glowed. She did it for both of us. But she had a posted rate which knocked us backwards. "2 hours - $1200. No over night," it said.

"Okay," Ken said. "Here's our plan. You and I play together continuously right until she knocks on the door. We're right on the edge. She comes in. Bam! Finger here, lick this, enter that, orgasms all around. Five, ten minutes tops. Not more than $50."

"I don't think we get a discount for being lame."

"Rip."

"But expensive is better, right? The higher she charges, the more likely she's doing this by choice, because it's great money. If we are going to do this at all, it has to be like that," I told Ken.

"Yeah...."

"And we need more than two hours. We need a night." I could agree with Ken about the non-personal thing, but if I was going to do this, I was going to take some time with it. I didn't know what I was looking for, but it wasn't doing someone in a back alley in ten minutes.

"You – we - want the most expensive woman we can find," Ken replied.

"Right. On the entire site. No matter what. Getting this right is more important than money." I offered him my hand, which he slowly shook. "If we like her, I mean."

I got all excited by "Jade" who said she was Thai, Korean, and German and looked a little like my favorite barrista with the perfume who always seemed to have an extra smile for me on the way to work. Nuun was the person I had noted if the "non-personal" restriction ever came off. I couldn't be with her, but maybe I could be with her distant Vegas cousin. She too only had a phone number and only offered hourly rates as well, though.

Kenji kept getting excited about various women and I couldn't get the connection for a bit. Then I realized they usually looked a lot like the models in the auto-tuning world. The girls he dated before me. I still never really believed that. What did I have that he liked so much? He was a wanted man, though getting close to 40. I was just me.

At the very bottom of the site was an ad different from the rest. No picture. No leather or lace. Just two Japanese, or Chinese, characters, kanji. I couldn't read them, but I'd been around Ken's family enough to know what I was seeing. I clicked on the ad, which couldn't have been simpler.

"I am what you desire. One night only. $10,000."

Just that, an email, and two more words, "I'm professional."

"Is she Japanese?" I asked.

"The characters read more Chinese to me. I have no idea how you'd say them, but the first means... uhhh... expensive. And the second is phoenix, like the bird. It's common to wish that a woman become a phoenix. Boys are dragons; girls are phoenixes."

"'Expensive' is a weird first name."

"She's earned it. You wanted the most expensive woman we could find. Here she is. 'What you desire – the professional.'"

"I wonder if anyone ever hires her," I wondered aloud.

"That's a three month salary for me. She'd only need 4-5 nights a year if she fetches that much. I wonder what she knows that we don't."

I thought about Kenji in bed. He knew a lot. "Let's find out. Let's just write her and see what happens."

"It's a quarter of our savings, Ashleigh."

"More after my therapy," I reminded him. "But we'll earn it back."

Something about the ad had my heart beating. The truth was that I didn't care about being teased or the color of her skin or the size of her chest. That's what all the other women offered. I only cared about our person being good at what she did. This ad promised professionalism, leaving everything else a mystery. Isn't that what real life is like? I hadn't grown up knowing I would love a man who looked like Kenji, who built hotrods, or who lived in the middle of the Pacific. All that had been unknown. The same was true in this case. I wasn't looking for a blonde or a Latina or any category of woman. I only wanted to understand how it felt to be with another woman, and that's what the phoenix was promising. Desire.

Kenji sighed. "Let's hit the email then."

I started to type, slowly at first, then faster.

"Dear Ms. Phoenix,

We saw your ad on the web site. We would like to know more about you. My husband and I are coming to Las Vegas next week and maybe we'd be a match with the services you offer. We don't know what we are doing and you must, based on your rate. We'd like to learn more about you, and we will tell you more about us. Of course, discretion is important. This trip is for both of us. As a couple. I'm sure you know what I mean by that. OK. Thank you. Please be polite if this isn't your area of expertise. We are lost.

Lost Couple"

"How's that look?" I asked.

"Hit send and we'll see."

I stared at the send button on the screen, feeling my finger tapping on the mouse, trying to decide if I really wanted to email an escort. What had happened to innocent Ashleigh? I felt Ken's lips kiss my hair and his strong hands rest lightly on my shoulders. Time to do something stupid. I clicked.

"Do you think she will be nice?" I asked.

"It's her job."

"If she's horrible to us, what can we do? We aren't going to complain."

"She's probably booked anyway. It's really short notice."

"Maybe we should call Jade. She's nice, isn't she?"

"Yes, very, but it's one AM there and she only had the phone number. She's either asleep or working. Bed?"

I nodded and caressed Ken's arms. I knew I was doing something dumb - to risk Ken for this. What would the Phoenix be like? Would I like her? Would she like me? Would it matter?

"I don't want to sleep with someone who doesn't like me, Ken."

"Yeah. But we can't find out what she thinks tonight. Tomorrow maybe. At least I like you."

I grinned and stood, wrapping my hands around his neck. "Te adoro, Antonio. I think you are pretty cute, too."

"Aw, shucks, sweetie," Ken replied playing along immediately in our game. "Just how cute do you think I am?"

"Kiss on the lips cute."

"Really? I think you are nibble on the ear cute."

"Biting the shoulder cute."

"Unhook the bra cute."

"You like to move fast, stranger. Hands on your ass cute."

"Licking your calves cute."

That one always got me. "Cock in my mouth cute."

"Grrr... Sucking your clit until you scream cute."

"Fucking until we catch the bed on fire cute."

"That does it!" Ken declared as he scooped my thin body up in his arms running for the bedroom. I was already imagining the taste of his skin as we went down the hall. His tongue on the back of my knee like I loved. His come falling onto my ass cheeks. His way of sliding in me from tip to bottom over and over.

We spent over two hours in each other's bodies that night, tasting one another, drinking one another. I had started fast by engulfing Ken in my mouth, running my tongue up and down his length until he exploded. Then the tenderness started with Ken's lips covering every inch of me. When I escaped his oral caresses, I straddled the back of his legs, rubbing my mound against him, as I massaged his back, searching for every tense muscle in his hard-working body. Then I had lain on my stomach with Ken lifting my rear into the air. His mouth fell between my thighs and he feasted on me from behind until my thighs quivered and I begged to hold him in my arms. During the kisses, he pushed deep into me. Oh, I had cried out as we took each other. I cried out for him and me and for this freedom together. Soon our sweaty bodies were rolling back and forth with grins from ear to ear, our orgasms lifting us higher and higher.

I loved this man.

---

I woke up when the light was just starting to cross our bedroom. I gently moved Kenji's hand off my breast and padded off to wash my face. I wasn't as disheveled as I thought. My hair fell to my shoulder blades with only a little frizz. My pubic hair didn't look as matted as it felt from all the liquids sliding around last night.

I stopped and looked at that triangle.

With luck, I was going to be with another woman soon. She would want to, to eat me out. And I'd do the same to her with Ken there. How would I do it? Would she lie on her back for me? Would she get on her hands and knees like I had done last night with Ken? Maybe I would sit somewhere, like on a sofa, and she would stand, straddling my face.

I should shave. Don't women who do this a lot shave there? Or am I supposed to be all athletic and in a muscle shirt. I smiled at the dumb stereotypes floating across my mind. I had long hair, painted nails, and loved wearing a short skirt. I also was cynical, could run a good six miles on the treadmill, and had slugged a guy in college who wouldn't back off – slicing his cheek with a fingernail in the process. Did that make me butch or femme?

A tongue was sliding up the pale skin of my arm. I could feel her long hair tickling my back as she tasted me.

How many times had I touched myself thinking about these images, these feelings? How many times had I collapsed in the shower, alone, sobbing because these images would never be real? If they were real, it meant I was leaving the one I loved. How many times had I felt ashamed because I had begun to forget which part of my life was more important? Images on the cutting room floor. That's what the pictures were. Little clips of another life, another possibility. When would I start finding images of Ken lying next to them?

I pulled on some sweats and walked to the computer. An email waited for me from a "Gui-Feng."

Dear Mr. and Mrs. Misagi,

Your email was rather excited and I'm pleased to hear from the two of you. I believe I can satisfy your requirements as you mention them. Before I speak to prospective customers, I always ask for a small token to show that you are truly interested in my services and not just getting a thrill by writing to an escort. Because I have done nothing for you, I cannot ask for anything for myself. Therefore, I request that you make a $100 donation to the charity of your choice. Send me the receipt and we will start talking for real. If you are not sure if your charity can provide an immediate receipt, I have provided a list of several of my favorite organizations for you to choose from. The donation will be subtracted from the rate that was advertised.

I know this is terribly unfriendly, but it is far too easy for people to send an email who have no real interest.

Thank you for contacting me about my services.

Gui-Feng

The first shock was the beginning. How the hell had she known our names? We'd only signed "lost couple." Then I looked at my email address and sitting right there was "Kenji and Ashleigh Misagi." Crap, I wasn't good at this stuff.

Then there was the rest. Still no picture, no offers, nothing. Except a request to give money. Bit I had declared it was time to do something stupid, so without a second thought I started browsing her list of charities and made a donation to a children's hospital. The receipt went to Gui-Feng, and I went off to find Kenji making breakfast in his underwear.

---

It wasn't until the 3rd quarter of Ken's football game and my 15th email check that the response came:

Ashleigh and Kenji (or is it Ken?),

You aren't my usual customers, and I'm really pleased to hear from you. I think I can help the two of you out. We are all lost sometime, aren't we?

I have attached a couple pics of myself this time. Thank your husband for his patience.

As you know, this is really short notice and so we are going to have to get working immediately. I've penciled in Saturday night as our night. Will that be OK with you? I need to talk to both of you as soon as I can, so I put my phone number below. It's real. Call me before 8:00 your time. I am going to ask very personal questions, so be ready.

Call me,

Gui-Feng

"I've penciled in Saturday night as our night." I was actually going to have a night! I scrolled down to see my date.

Fuck.

Holy fuck.

Surely she was airbrushed or something. No one's skin is that perfect. I enlarged the first picture, the headshot, up to fill my screen and just stared. Would a woman who looked like this want to kiss me? Why didn't she rule the world or something? High cheek bones, dark, luscious eyes, blossoming cheeks, such delicate ears. My finger traced along her lips, so full and ripe and dark, so ready to be kissed. Could it be that I might kiss lips such as those? This was ridiculous.

"Is that her?"

It was Kenji's voice but it sounded like something was stuck in his throat.

"She's beautiful," I replied.

"Yeah."

I turned to find Kenji staring at the picture as intensely as I had. I looked back and forth between the two of them. Kenji was attractive enough for her. Had I made a mistake here?

"There's a second picture," I told him.

This time she was draped in a dark green evening gown, sitting on a bar stool in some busy club. A bubble of light surrounded her and all the other patrons gave plenty of space. She owned the room, as she should. One leg was on the top rung of her stool, causing the dress to fall open along her never-ending legs. In all my time at the gym I had never seen legs so slender and perfectly formed. I had long legs like her, but not like that.

I was biting on her ankle.

This time I grabbed the image and kept it there, not letting it go.

I was biting on her ankle.

"She has a good photographer," Ken said with his trademark understatement.

"She's a goddess, Ken."

"That probably makes the photographer's job easier."

"Why isn't she married to some billionaire instead of doing what she does?"

"Maybe this way it's a few nights a year with someone she doesn't love rather than every night."

I closed the picture, breaking the spell, or at least weakening it. "She wants us to call her."

"Call her?"

"Today."

"Why?"

"Says we have work to do," I explained.

"Oh," he laughed. "Well, if Venus tells you to call...."

Gui-Feng's pictures had had an effect on Ken. This was the first time he'd shown any enthusiasm for the project. "Then that's what you do," I finished.

---

"Hi, is this Ashleigh?"

I froze. She was real. I was talking to her. I was going to have a night!

"Ashleigh?"

Damn, her voice was warm and friendly. She sounded like Ms. Shaughnessy in 9th grade. My favorite teacher. Everyone's favorite teacher.

"This is Gui-Feng. Don't worry, I wouldn't let anyone else answer."

I finally made my mouth move. "Okay."

She gave a small laugh. "Thank you for calling, Ashleigh. It's nice to hear a female voice in this job. Is Ken on the line, too?"

"Ken? Oh, no, he's sitting next to me." I clutched his hand tightly.

"Good, I need to talk to both of you."

"When do we pay?"

"If you are content after this call, you would pay half. The other half will be paid on Saturday. Do you have $5000 available to send to me? I only accept direct wire deposit."

Wow, she certainly had things worked out. But as Ken had said, she only needed a few nights a year. She could be as exact as she pleased and if someone didn't bite, so what? Good for her. "Well, it's Sunday, so we'd have to send it to you tomorrow."

"That's fine."

"We'll do it. I promise."

"I believe you."

"Don't people not pay all the time?" I asked.

"Yes. After today, I've raised $35,600 for charity so far. And remember before you start doing the math, most people opt out."

I chuckled. It hadn't taken too long to do that math. 356 customers. I wondered how many had decided to go through. If they had, she would have earned over 3 and a half million.

"Six years, since you are calculating it out," she interrupted. "And, no, I won't give you the percentage of actual customers. It's small enough for me."

I was about to apologize, but I could hear a slight smile in her voice. And the fact that she could tell what I was doing immediately made me realize I was dealing with someone with intelligence. Someone who deserved more than a half-assed apology.

"Ashleigh, I need to talk to you alone. I need you to tell me about things you wouldn't even tell Ken. Can you do this?"

"I can hear her," Ken said and, letting go of my hand, disappeared.

"You know this is very strange, Gui-Feng. We are paying you all this money and so far we just do what you tell us." I hadn't meant it to sound quite like that.

"Ashleigh, I don't want you to do anything today, next Saturday with me, ever, that you don't truly want to do. I'm taking charge now because this is my job, and... this is all new for you, right?"

"Very."

"How much of it? Have you hired someone like me before? Have you ever been with a woman before?"

"Neither."

"Not even a kiss?"

"Not that type of kiss, no."

"Then why are you calling me? Why are you doing this thing that makes you so scared that you can't speak on the phone? You tell CFOs what to do. "

"We didn't know how to make the fantasy come true," I explained. Wait. How did she know what I did for a living?