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“More I need more,” I pant. Inserting a second finger, I hooking them both back toward myself the best I can, trying to reach that sensitive spot to push me over the edge. “Fuck yes.” I pump in and out in quick successions. Foreign noises escape my mouth as I push myself closer to the edge.

I feel it burning inside of me, begging to release itself from my body. Squeezing my eyes shut tighter, I imagine what Heath’s cock will look like, what his lips will taste like, how they will feel when they lick up my center. In my mind he is devouring me like he tastes his greatest creation. I explode like those volcanos. My orgasm rips through me. Hot and wet onto my fingers. With one last pinch of my nipple, I remove my hand from inside my shirt. Exhaling loudly, I pull my soaked fingers from my greedy pussy. Quickly, I clean myself up with the package of tissues I always carry with me when I travel. I correct my clothes back in their proper place and I lay my head back, watching the Chicago skyline fade away in the distance. A smile graces my face after my release. “Carl,” I say to myself, “I do believe you’ve done it again, my friend.”

***

“Shit. It’s freezing out,” I roughly tell Colin, as he hands me my bag out of the trunk of the limo. “It’s the first of March for god’s sake. Shouldn’t it be spring?”

Colin laughs beside me. “It will be soon, Luca. In the meantime, you’re about to spend two days in Savannah, Georgia.”

“I know. I looked up the weather last night while watching television. It’s in the mid-seventies down there. Which means, if you don’t see me walking out of the terminal Sunday afternoon, I’m not coming back,” I tell him jokingly.

“Whatever, Luca. Enjoy your flight. Get inside before you catch a cold and can’t enjoy yourself,” Colin says, chastising me like a child. He’s been my driver for two years now and was just like the brother I never had. Being an only child could be lonely at times. My parents were attentive, always supportive; I couldn’t have asked for a better set of parents if I handpicked them myself. Yet I always desired to have a sibling to share everything with. I sound selfish. My parents are good people.

You miss them, I tell myself, and I do, too. I miss them terribly. If they knew I was going to be so close to them this weekend, they would be pissed at me. I should call them, and tell them I’m attending a business meeting all weekend in case they try to call. My mother fills my voicemail up whenever she can’t get ahold of me, which is often. As soon as I get checked in, I’ll call them while I lap up the luxuries the Delta Sky Club lounge has for me. The club is one of the many perks of flying first class as much as I do. I fly not only for pleasure, but business as well.

My reputation in business speaks for itself. I did not become a millionaire by strictly keeping my talents in Chicago. Over the years I’ve branched out and have clients all over the world, just about on every continent.

After telling Colin goodbye, I hoist the handle of my bag up making my way into the airport. I’m able to check in without any effort at all, since all I have is my carry-on, purse, and an extra bag. Once I’m through security, I walk to the closet sky lounge. With my head held high and my shoulders back, I enter the lounge and quickly relax into the soft cushions of a leather chair tucked in the corner.

“Hi, mom.” I speak enthusiastically into my phone after the waitress hands me a glass of Trimbach Riesling, my absolute favorite.

“Hi, honey. How are you?” she ask in her sweet southern voice. My mother was born and raised in Nashville, Tennessee. She met my father on a family vacation at the age of sixteen in Florida. They spent the entire week together, laughing and soaking up the sun. When the week came to an end, they promised each other they would write or call as often as they could. They kept this up for two years until they graduated high school. During those two years, they fell deeply in love with each other. My father was extremely impatient when it came to seeing my mom again, so he drove to Tennessee, proposed to my mother, securing her as his wife. They were married months later at nineteen, and now almost thirty years later, are still happily married, living off my father’s salary as a foreman for a construction company. Material things mean nothing to them. That’s the one thing the three of us have never seen eye to eye on. I may be the combination of the two of them, but I’m nothing like them at all when it comes to money.

I want luxurious things. No, I take that back, I need them. I may not wear them like I should, as all the gowns I receive hang in tightly sealed bags in a separate closet in my apartment. All of my favorite jewels are locked away in a secret safe in my bedroom. On the snowy and dreary rainy days, I bring them out. Taking them into my private bathroom, I place the diamonds and emeralds around my neck to watch them sparkle and glisten from the lights up above. My favorite piece is a royal beauty. It’s the most innovative ring I have ever seen in my life. It was given to me ten years ago by a pilot I met. God, he was the best sex I’ve ever had and the man who showed me this life style. The ring was an unexpected surprise, a complete bonus after the sex he gave me. It’s set in an unusual 14K pink and platinum gold band, with pink and white diamonds encrust the entire way around the band. In the center sits a 2.0 Karat princess cut diamond, surrounded by small diamonds in the square setting. This is the only piece I wear in public and I wear it daily on my right hand. It’s the closest ring to a wedding band that will ever grace my fingers. I’m a woman fated to be alone, left to drown in my own selfishness. Not that I’m extremely selfish, except for when it comes to myself. I donate to charities and attend events when I can. The question I’ve asked myself, and others have asked at least a million times, is why won’t I settle down with just one man. The simple answer is I can’t. Both of these lives I lead are an addiction. I have to have the men and the adventure they provide. It’s like a drug flowing freely through my every vein, pumping fiercely to keep me alive. That is why I will be alone, always relying on nobody but myself.

The sound of my mother’s voice brings me out of my thoughts. It also reminds me of how much I miss them. “You better come see us before it gets to hot down here,” her sunshine voice begging.

“I will, mom, I promise. I have to go now. I need to walk to my gate. I wanted to touch base with you in case you tried to call. I’ll be in business meetings all weekend.” I lie.

“Good luck. We’re proud of you,” she coos.

“Are you?” I ask my glass of wine before downing the rest of it.

First class has many perks, however today my perks are not perky at all. I’m stuck next to a woman who is crocheting a fucking sweater. Good god, please choke me now, and not in the sexual way I love so much either. In spite of the fact I have a blanket wrapped around me and I’m sipping on a delicious hot cup of coffee with baileys in it, I’m stuck next to Grandma Jones go on and on about her dog and the sweater she’s making to help keep him warm in the snow.

Now don’t get me wrong, I adore pets. I would love to have one of my own. A big yellow lab, to be precise, to cuddle up with at night, to keep my feet warm when I crawl in bed by myself. But there again comes in my selfishness comes in. I would never be able to have a dog for the mere fact I will never give up being an escort.

THREE

I have a maid that comes to my high rise apartment every few days, but there’s something absolutely breathtaking about a penthouse suite at a luxury hotel. Everything is crisp, vivid, and obviously fresh. I walk in as a marketing professional and once I’ve seen the four rooms of pure wealth, I feel like a woman. A real woman with needs, wants, and the man, Heath, or whomever I’m set up with, to take care of me. Just me.