Category: IST

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“I’m honestly happy just to watch,” I said. “If that’s allowed.”

The two of them looked at each other and laughed.

“It is very allowed,” Odette said. “Sit. Get comfortable. Pour yourself a drink.”

I sat in the armchair with my whisky. They took their time, and I think they genuinely forgot about me for a while, which was the most erotic part of it. Vivienne lay back on the big bed and Odette undressed her slowly, kissing every inch she uncovered. Then Odette knelt between her thighs and licked her, unhurried, while Vivienne’s hands twisted in the sheets and her hips rolled up to meet her.

Vivienne came with her head thrown back. Then she rolled Odette over and returned the favour with a wand from her bag, and Odette swore beautifully in French for about four minutes straight.

I’d undone my trousers somewhere in there. I didn’t remember doing it.

Vivienne glanced over, flushed and sweaty, and smiled.

“Come here,” she said. “You’ve been very patient.”

They knelt on either side of me on the edge of the bed and took turns with their mouths until I came, shaking, with my hands in two different heads of hair.

Afterwards Odette shook my hand very formally on the way out.

“Best seat in the house,” she said. “Tell your friends.”

Ending 10 of 16: Front Row Seat. Go back and try a different choice for the full happy ending.

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I joined them.

It was like getting into a warm sea where the waves knew your name. Odette pulled my shirt off. Vivienne undid my belt. Then there were two mouths on me at once, one on my neck and one on my chest, and two pairs of hands, and I stopped trying to keep track of whose were whose.

They put me in the middle of the bed and took turns. Vivienne knelt between my legs and sucked my cock while Odette kissed me, slow and filthy, her small breasts against my arm. Then they swapped. Then Odette rolled a condom onto me and climbed on top and rode me, and Vivienne straddled my face, and I licked her while they leaned forward and kissed each other above me. I could feel Vivienne moaning into Odette’s mouth.

Later Odette lay back and Vivienne went down on her, and I took Vivienne from behind while she did it, and Odette came first, swearing in French, and then Vivienne, and then me, with a sound I’ll be embarrassed about for the rest of my life.

We lay in a sweaty heap. Odette lit a cigarette by the open window, naked, completely unbothered.

“He is good,” she said to Vivienne. “We keep him?”

“Next time he’s in Edinburgh,” Vivienne said, and kissed my shoulder.

I’ve never booked a trip there so fast.

Ending 9 of 16: Three’s Company. Go back and try a different choice for the full happy ending.

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I took the wand out of her hand and switched it back on.

“Lie down,” I said, and she did, with a look of pure delight.

I’d never used one before. She talked me through it, which was its own kind of thrilling: lower, softer, there, no, there, yes. I started on her inner thigh and worked my way up through black lace until she was squirming. Then I peeled the lace off and held the wand against her clit and watched her whole body light up.

“Oh, you’re a fast learner,” she gasped.

She came the first time in about three minutes, back arched, hand gripping my wrist to hold it there. I didn’t stop. She came again. Then she pushed the wand away, breathless, and handed me the glass dildo and the lube.

“Now that one,” she said. “And your mouth at the same time. I’ll tell you if you’re doing it wrong.”

I wasn’t doing it wrong. She told me that too, loudly.

By the time she rolled a condom onto me and pulled me inside her, she was so wet and so sensitive that she came again almost instantly, clinging to my shoulders and laughing. I followed embarrassingly quickly.

We lay there sweaty and wrecked.

“Most clients,” she said, “want me to do all the work. You, Graham, I’m putting on the list.”

Ending 8 of 16: Hands On. Go back and try a different choice for the full happy ending.

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I gave her ten minutes, then put on a fresh shirt and went down.

She was at the end of the bar, legs crossed, dark green dress, a gin and tonic in front of her. She didn’t look up. I sat two stools away and ordered a whisky and felt like I was sixteen.

“Is anyone sitting here?” I said, which was a terrible opening line.

She looked at me like I was a parking ticket. “You are, apparently.”

It took me twenty minutes. She made me work for every inch. She was a solicitor called Morag, she said, in town for a case, and she found me boring and then mildly interesting and then, after I made her laugh about my divorce, interesting. She let me buy her a second drink. Then she put her hand on my thigh under the bar.

“Your room or mine?” she said. “Not that I do this.”

“I’ve never done this either.”

In the lift she kissed me like a stranger would, hungry and a bit clumsy, and by the time the doors opened on eleven her hand was inside my trousers. We barely made it into the suite. She pushed me against the door, dropped to her knees, then pulled me down onto the carpet and rode me there, still half-dressed, both of us gasping.

Afterwards, lying on the floor, she turned her head and grinned.

“Nice to meet you,” she said.

Ending 7 of 16: The Stranger at the Bar. Go back and try a different choice for the full happy ending.

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I grabbed her waist and pulled her down onto the bed and rolled on top of her. It was stupid. I thought it was part of it. I thought she’d like being overpowered, the way she’d liked overpowering me.

“Red,” Vivienne said.

She said it calmly, clearly, the way she’d taught me to say it. I let go of her instantly and scrambled backwards, pulling the blindfold off.

“God. Sorry. Sorry. I thought…”

“I know what you thought.” She sat up and took a breath. She didn’t look frightened. She looked disappointed, which was worse. “The test was whether you’d keep your hands where I told you. You didn’t. That’s all right. Lots of people don’t, the first time. But I don’t switch mid-scene. Not with someone I’ve known for two hours.”

She started unbuckling the harness.

“Are you leaving?”

“The session’s over,” she said, not unkindly. “I’ll stay ten minutes and make sure you’re all right, because that’s the job. Then I’m going home.”

She made me a cup of tea. She sat with me on the sofa while I drank it and felt about two inches tall. She told me it was fine, that it was a learning experience, that I’d been honest about my nerves and that counted for something.

At the door she kissed my cheek.

“Next time,” she said, “try listening.”

Ending 6 of 16: Red Light. Go back and try a different choice for the full happy ending.

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I didn’t move. Not an inch.

“Oh,” Vivienne said softly, behind me. “Oh, well done.”

She rewarded me. That’s the only word for it. She took off the blindfold and let me watch while she knelt and took my cock into her mouth, slow, all the way, holding my eyes the whole time. When I started to shake she stopped, stood up, and pushed me back onto the bed with one hand on my chest.

“You don’t touch,” she reminded me. “You just take it.”

She rolled a condom on me and straddled me, the leather harness creaking. She rode me hard and fast, using me exactly how she wanted, her hands pinning my wrists to the pillow. Every time I got close she stopped and waited and smiled down at me until I begged. I begged a lot. I had no idea I had it in me.

“Please, Miss. Please.”

“Since you asked so nicely,” she said, and came on me with a long, shuddering moan, and then said, “Now.” I came so hard I saw stars.

Afterwards she untied me, wrapped me in the hotel robe, made me a cup of tea with three sugars and sat with me while I came back to earth.

“Aftercare,” she explained. “Very important.”

I booked her again the next month. And the month after that.

Ending 5 of 16: Good Boy. Go back and try a different choice for the full happy ending.

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“Again,” I said. “Properly. I want you again.”

She grinned and pushed me onto my back. “Then you’d better be quick, Mr Whitlock.”

I was not quick. That was the problem.

She went down on me first, slow and devastating, until I was hard as iron, and then rolled a fresh condom on and turned around and lowered herself onto me facing away, her pale freckled back arching, her hands on my knees. The view was ridiculous. I held her hips and watched myself disappear into her, over and over, and she rocked harder and faster and started to moan, and I was close, God, I was so close.

Her phone alarm went off.

It was a cheerful little xylophone tune. It played three times. Vivienne stopped moving.

“Ah,” she said.

“You’re joking.”

“I’m so sorry.” She was laughing, and trying not to, and failing. “I’ve got another booking at eleven across town. I genuinely can’t.”

“Five minutes. I’ll pay for five minutes.”

“The agency doesn’t do five minutes.” She climbed off me, kissed me on the forehead, and started gathering her clothes. “Next time,” she said, “maybe book three hours.”

The door closed behind her. I lay there alone, rock hard, staring at the ceiling, while the xylophone tune played on a loop in my head for the rest of the night.

I booked three hours next time.

Ending 3 of 16: Time’s Up. Go back and try a different choice for the full happy ending.

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I asked. Badly, with a lot of ums.

Vivienne just smiled. “Anal,” she said, helpfully. “You can say the word, Graham. I’m not going to faint.”

“Is it, er…”

“It’s on my list. With the right man, slowly, with lots of lube, and with me in charge of the pace.” She propped herself up on one elbow. “You’d be my first client in a while. I don’t offer it to people who are rude in emails.”

She fetched a bottle from her bag and showed me, step by step, like a very patient teacher. Fingers first, then one more, slick and slow, her face in the pillow, her breath coming harder. Then she rolled a fresh condom onto me, lubed me herself, and knelt on the bed with her back arched.

“Slowly,” she said. “I’ll push back when I’m ready.”

I held still and let her. She pressed back onto me a little at a time, gasping, until I was all the way inside, the heat and tightness of it almost unbearable. She reached between her own legs and touched herself and told me to move. I did, carefully, then less carefully when she asked.

She came first, shaking. I lasted about four more seconds.

Afterwards she lay on her front, grinning into the pillow.

“Five stars on the website, please,” she said. “Under the bonus clause.”

Ending 4 of 16: The Bonus Clause. Go back and try a different choice for the full happy ending.

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“I think I’m falling for you,” I said.

I watched it land. Something closed in her face, very gently, like a door being pulled to so it doesn’t bang.

“That’s lovely, Graham,” she said, and kissed my cheek, and got out of bed.

She dressed without hurrying. Green dress, heels, pins back into her hair. She was kind about it. She said it happens. She said the extra hours make it feel real, and that it was real, in its way, and that I should go home and find someone who could give me the rest of it.

“Can I see you again?”

“You can book me again,” she said at the door. “That’s different.”

I booked her the following month, when I came back up for the contract signing. The agency said Vivienne was unavailable. I tried the month after. Unavailable. I sent a careful, embarrassing message through the website and got a polite automated reply.

In March I walked past a little gallery in Leith and saw a poster for an exhibition. Isla Rennie, paintings. I stood outside for ten minutes like a teenager.

I didn’t go in. Some rules, I’d finally understood, weren’t hers to break. They were mine to respect.

I still have the hotel receipt for the chips. It’s in a drawer. I don’t know why.

Ending 2 of 16: Ghosted. Go back and try a different choice for the full happy ending.

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“Stay,” I said. “No clock. No money. Just stay, if you want to.”

Isla looked at me for a long time. Then she picked up her phone, texted the agency that she was home safe, and turned it off.

“I never do this,” she said. “It’s my number one rule.”

“I know.”

“You don’t know. You’re guessing.” But she slid back under the duvet and curled into me, and we talked until two, and fell asleep with her leg hooked over mine.

I woke at seven to grey Edinburgh light and her mouth on my neck.

“Morning,” she whispered. “I’m breaking rule number two now.”

She kissed down my chest, slow and sleepy, and took my cock into her mouth until I was gripping the sheets. Then she climbed on top of me, rolled on a condom, and sank down with a soft groan. No performance this time. Just her, hair wild, freckles bare, moving on me slow and deep while the city woke up outside. I held her hips and watched her face as she came, trembling, her forehead pressed to mine. I followed a moment later, saying her real name.

Afterwards she lay on my chest and drew circles.

“Rule number three,” she said, “is never give a client your number.”

She took my phone and typed it in herself.

Ending 1 of 16: Off the Clock. You found the full happy ending.

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