Lindsay meandered in a directionless circle on the corner of East Andreas Road and North Sunrise Way with a wireless Bluetooth device wedged in her ear. “I don’t know if we’re ever gonna reopen. That’s strictly up to the governor, no one else.” She tucked her hands in the back pockets of her cutoffs, causing them to slip lower on her slim hips and revealing the tattoo decorating her tailbone.
Holy kamoly. The design consisted of delicate, colorful floral arrangements, such as roses, lilies, and cherry blossoms. Since when did you decide to get a tramp stamp? Lindsay wore the shorts, a black spaghetti-strap top, and a rust and cream-colored striped halter that hung sexily off one shoulder and, Donald noticed with a dose of longing, was in amazing shape. In that outfit, she could make the concrete go up in flames.
“I think you should and, if we ever do reopen, I’d put in a good word for you with Colt, Pamela, and Jim.” Traffic was sprinkled throughout Palm Springs as if the roads were a playset that came with only a few cars. “What do you mean, you’re too old? Thirty-seven is not old.” Lindsay blew out a breath and scratched her eyebrow with a pair of fingertips. “Trust me, I’ve come to learn over the years that guys like all types, and besides, you look ten years younger as it is. What are you talkin’ about, girl? You’d make a killing at the brothel.” Lindsay abruptly stopped pacing and drew her shoulders back. “C’mon, you’re never too old in our industry. Your kids are all grown up and I think getting away from Rhode Island, getting a fresh start, would be the best thing for you. Plus, I’d love to have you with us.”
Oh, boy. Here we go. As he relaxed on a cement ledge fifteen feet away, his left leg extended, protective instincts stirred in Donald’s chest. A man in a red, button-down shirt and gray shorts approached from the left side, his sights clearly set on Lindsay. Don’t go messin’ with my squeeze. A flirtatious smile spread across the man’s cheeks, his teeth like pristine, polished jewels, perfectly aligned and as white as snow. He knows he’s hot stuff. Mr. Movie Star was impossible to miss, too – six-foot-five of rock-solid muscle, dark hair, dark beard, and brown eyes. A dickhead for sure. Exactly the type of guy girls like Lindsay, at least in Donald’s mind, were predetermined to hook up with – and ultimately have their hearts broken by.
Once closer, he took a swig of sparkling water and surveyed Lindsay from head to toe. He raised the bottle in her direction, as if to say, Hey there. Donald’s right sneaker dribbled the pavement and he wrestled with the impulse to pounce and strike. Look at that fool. Reminds me of an older Zack. He thinks he’s all that.
Lindsay’s eyes bounced up and acknowledged his presence, but then she turned her back and continued with the telephone discussion. “Yeah, Becky, of course I’m serious. Yeah, okay, that’s fine. Sure, no problem. I understand. Think about it, okay?” She shifted her weight from one Chuck Taylor to the other. “I’ll call you tomorrow and we can talk more. Love you, girl! Bye.”
The man sloughed off a lame shrug, walked past Lindsay, and flung a shooing gesture back toward her. As a result, Donald moved his gaze to blink up at the heavens and released a huge exhalation of pent-up oxygen.
Maybe he really did have a chance with this girl.
“Hey, Donnie.”
He heard Lindsay’s voice and had the urge to wrap her in his arms and protect her from all the world’s atrocities. Especially an America’s Top Model wannabe like that douchebag.
“Sorry about that. That was a friend from back east on the phone.”
His eyes drifted to Lindsay, captivating in the blazing sunlight and the shorts that showed off flawless legs. She had her blonde hair pulled back in a ponytail with long wisps falling out on either side. Would it be inappropriate to pounce at her instead? I’m afraid I’d never let her go. The swell of the twenty-year-old’s hips and the sweet dip at her waist made his fingers curl with the desire to touch her.
“Are you hungry?” She stashed the Bluetooth device inside her purse and reapplied her facial covering. “There’s a Crustopia about a block away. They’ve always had the best pizza in the Coachella Valley, but I haven’t been to one in ages. Want to go?”
Earlier this morning, Donald’s eyelids gave a flutter like brand new butterfly wings hoping for flight. But once reality dawned through a lazy squint, he shot upright like a hornet got him on his backside and grabbed the nearest pillow to pin to his chest.
“Hey, you.” Seated on the bed, Lindsay didn’t budge, her hand caressing Donald’s cheek. “Good morning.”
So, it wasn’t a dream after all? I really spent the night with Lindsay Anastacio at a fancy, deluxe resort. His grin came lopsided, like the two sides of his face couldn’t agree on any one particular expression. Alone. His grip went lax on the pillow, allowing it to lower.
It still seemed like a fantasy to wake up with Lindsay this way and Donald enjoyed every second of it, confidence-boosting as it was. Without any makeup, she looked fresh-faced and natural, and more breathtaking than he’d ever seen her. She had on blue mesh shorts and a short-sleeved red shirt with a Hello Kitty design adorning it. Though its sound was muted, a morning news show played on the nearby television.
“I have a surprise for you.”
“Oh?” His voice scratchy from a dry throat, Donald scrunched his face and yawned. “And, hey. Good morning to you too.” Boy, Lindsay looked cute in that outfit. And then Donald recalled how she had looked in the oversized nightshirt the evening prior when she retired to the bed opposite his. Va-va-voom. “A surprise? For me?”
Lindsay’s visage filled with kindness as she swiveled toward the nightstand and then placed a tray of hot, steaming food next to Donald upon the mattress.
A tentative smile broke out across his face. “What’s all this?”
“Breakfast. I ordered room service for you.”
Room service? His chin quivered. Isn’t that expensive? “You didn’t have to do that. Not for me.”
“But I wanted to.”
“Lindsay, sweetheart, you paid for dinner last evening and now you’ve ordered room service too? I mean, I appreciate it and all, but I can’t let you do this for me. When I get my paycheck on Tuesday, I’m …”
Lindsay picked up a piece of French toast and jammed it into Donald’s mouth, interrupting him. “Just eat, okay?”
At her insistence, Donald gave in (for now) and chowed down. Hmmmmm, is that pumpkin? All the tasty goodness of hot, sizzling French toast, but puréed with pumpkin sauce to make it even more delicious? This was good. Beyond good. Still, I must pay her back.
The meal, which also included bacon, omelets, hash browns, and cranberry orange muffins was a pleasant surprise, indeed. Donald ate while sharing small talk with Lindsay and even watched a segment of the Today Show with her, a first for him. He enjoyed the domesticity of the morning as it felt so natural, so right.
Almost like a dream itself.
Suddenly, Donald envisioned mornings like this all the time, and the thought just about bowled him over.
Because he wanted that.
Donald wanted Lindsay as an everyday fixture in his life. It was so clear to him. So easy to see. He wanted a full-on future and despite all Lindsay’s excess baggage, be it her profession or family issues, or whatever else, Donald would work to ensure that future happened. He smiled as the revelation washed over him in equal parts excitement and anticipation. For the first time in his life, not only did what Donald wanted seem attainable, but he was brimming with motivation, and it felt damn good.
“And you’re not paying me back. Everything is on me.”
We’ll see about that.
As Lindsay later cleared the dishes, Donald stole another glance of her, and made an attempt at acting playful. “So, have you done this for all the other men you’ve spent the night with too?” His lips vibrated against themselves as he downed the last of his apple juice. “Served them breakfast in bed and made them feel like a million bucks?”
Lindsay turned and shook her head slowly, the soft, sincere expression never leaving her face. “Only you.”
Her comment registered. And it hit him like a ton of bricks.
Only you. Those two words played within Donald’s mind in a continual loop. And as if on cue, here came yet another tidal wave of emotion. Dammit, there wasn’t anything that Donald wouldn’t do for Lindsay. He’d purchase any gift that she wanted no matter how badly it would jack up what meager credit he had. He’d run through a brick wall for her, protect her at all costs. Oh, wow. He was silly putty in Lindsay’s hands, completely at her mercy. I’d die for this girl.
Several hours earlier, Donald looked over and groaned at the sight of Lindsay sleeping on her side in the adjacent Queen-sized bed, her nightshirt riding high and offering an unobstructed view of her ass and the skimpy panties stretched across it. I’m really alone with Lindsay Anastacio, of all people, in a hotel room. I’m spending the night with her. Unable to resist, Donald found his raging erection, concealed by a lone bedsheet, and began stroking.
Again.
Jesus, look at that ass.
My, oh my, how Donald wanted to crawl into that bed and wrap his arms around Lindsay and profess his undying love for her. She already knew how he felt, of course, but he wanted to do it anyway. I want to cradle that ass with both hands and shower it with kisses. His eyelids clamped shut as his heart shifted into overdrive. I’ve had visions of marrying this girl since the first grade. Even then, Donald thought of her as a real-life angel.
He chewed his lip while refocusing on her backside. Would any of his friends in Citronelle actually believe him if he told them he shared a hotel room with Lindsay? Even more, that their interactions were unsullied, PG at the most extreme? Kenneth and everyone else knows that she’s a … a prostitute. Heat burned his cheeks. God, I hate that word.
Hell, Donald had a difficult time believing it himself: Lindsay showing up, unannounced, at his workplace just minutes before closing time, and asking for help. She always tells me in texts that she hates Citronelle and never wants to return to it. Plus, he knew that she’d been staying with “a few friends” all the way across the country in Baltimore since COVID-19 and the ensuing lockdown disrupted life as we know it. I would’ve never predicted that she’d pop up out of nowhere like that.
Donald’s breath caught, and then he exhaled in a series of short huffs.
Kenneth is gonna call me a pussy if I tell him I spent the night with Lindsay, but we stayed in separate beds. Lindsay had made no advances on Donald. Besides, talking her out of the funk she was in because of how her family treated her was of far greater importance. You know, you don’t have to tell Kenneth or anyone else. For once in your life, act like a man and keep your big fat mouth shut; don’t kiss and tell. Or was it don’t be a friend – a shoulder to lean on – and tell? Donald cared about Lindsay, right? Don’t go blabbing to everyone about it like last time. It’s none of their business. Respect Lindsay and her privacy.
Since that two-and-a-half-hour GFE nine months ago, there hadn’t been a day that had gone by when Donald didn’t think about Lindsay. Shoot, I think about her every minute. He wondered about her round the clock, honestly, and when she was in Flagstone pre-pandemic, whether she was safe and being treated like a lady by her clientele. I worry about Lindsay because of the life she leads. I want her to be safe, happy. At the time, he didn’t have anything to alleviate those concerns, either, but did receive occasional nuggets of information from Happy Ending Ranch’s bulletin board.
Topic: Kayleigh Sucks 12/16
From: Kedo2112
Gender: M
#Posts: 22
Kayleigh Sucks 12/16
Posted: December 18, 2019, 1:17pm PST
Well, I got into Flagstone much later than I planned. (Note to self: Don’t plan your next brothel hopping adventure for the week before Christmastime). After getting my room at the Twin Tops, I had to scramble for a quick dinner. Grabbed a quick beer and some food, then back to the room to shower and be decent for my dessert. That turned out to be a stop at Happy Ending Ranch. Got a cup of coffee while waiting to see Kayleigh and Pamela make their appearance. Decided on Kayleigh, so we went to her room. It seemed to be a slow night there as everything was finalized in short order. Definitely a good time was had, and some great conversation as a bonus. Before leaving, Kayleigh was kind enough to give me some Christmas cookies she had baked, which were pretty good. I know there are multiple reviews for her, so I will just second them and recommend taking the time to meet this delightful young woman. You won’t regret it!
Topic: The Sweet and Amazing Kayleigh
From: LongDongSilvers
Gender: M
#Posts: 42
The Sweet and Amazing Kayleigh
Posted: December 29, 2019, 5:43pm PST
So recently I was finally able to get the chance to spend a couple of hours with the ravishing Kayleigh. All the great things said about her in previous reports are true! She is one of the sweetest ladies I have had the pleasure of partying with, and she goes out of her way to make sure you are taken care of.
Do you have that moment where you flash back to being an awkward teen who dreams of being with the hot cheerleader, but you know you don't have the testicular fortitude to get it done? Kayleigh was my “dream girl” in that sense. From a strictly visual perspective, she looks the absolute best wearing a skirt and heels. Just stunning and so divine! Her silhouette (and these legs!) have to be seen to be believed! She has the CUTEST voice that so perfectly fits her perky personality.
Without the details, the party itself blew me away, and was the perfect end to an already busy day (and night). Thank you @Kayleigh_HER for the party. It was most appreciated, and I can't wait to see you again soon!
Yours, Long Dong Silvers
Topic: Two Ends of a Beautiful Spectrum –
Kayleigh and Kenzie
From: Flectomancer
Gender: M
#Posts: 16
Two Ends of a Beautiful Spectrum –
Kayleigh and Kenzie
Posted: January 23, 2020, 11:12pm PST
I've been thinking about writing a comparison of these two beautiful young ladies for a couple of weeks now, but I know comparisons can sometimes be viewed as a negative thing and this is not meant that way at all. Over the last couple of months, I've had the opportunity to get to know both of these amazing girls, and all I can say is that for an "older" guy like me, it has been a fantastic experience. Of course, one is a beautiful blonde and the other a beautiful ravenette, one wore a little pair of "booty shorts" when she came out to greet me and the other wore a short red dress, both of these were cold sweat-inspiring experiences. One is a California beach girl while the other is from Puerto Rico, one is white while the other is dark-skinned. Kayleigh has a gorgeous face and body, but I think she is shy and doesn't like a fuss made over her, while Kenzie also has a gorgeous face and body but claims to be "just average" (anybody that has ever seen her knows better than that). They both provide interesting conversation, speak well, and have an education. For an old horndog like myself the visual stimulation and sexual experiences that these ladies have provided me have been unforgettable. Anyone who visits Flagstone and has the opportunity to experience the two ends of this beautiful spectrum should take advantage of the opportunity. These are two hot, sexy, and sweet young ladies that you will never forget. I am hoping to get another opportunity to party with them again this coming week, this time in a threesome.
Topic: In Heaven with Kayleigh …
From: TopMonger
Gender: M
#Posts: 92
In Heaven with Kayleigh …
Posted: February 16, 2020, 10:03am PST
When I’m in Flagstone, Kayleigh has become my go-to gal. In all my multiple parties with her, I have never been let down. She is really great at what she does and is an awesome lady to talk to. Kayleigh really makes the trip to Flagstone worth it. Going to HER, it's always nice to chat with Colt when he is around. The bartenders there are nice, too, and it’s been cool to see Jenn tending bar my last two trips.
When Kayleigh lays that celestial body on you (for proof, watch the video on Happy Ending Ranch’s homepage of her doing a striptease and tell me you don't want some of those incredibly sexy moves put on you), you will be transported out of this world to another planet or dimension.
Afterwards, at the bar we ate leftover Valentine’s Day candy, kissed, hugged, held hands, and generally made a nuisance/spectacle of ourselves.
Hold me closer Tiny Dancer. …
Topic: Mighty Aphrodite: Kayleigh Sucks
From: Kaadorix1956
Gender: M
#Posts: 5
Mighty Aphrodite: Kayleigh Sucks
Posted: February 20, 2020 7:44pm PST
For many years I have perused the lineups of the various houses in Nevada online and fantasized. Living thousands of miles away, however, having the opportunity to visit any of them was something I had the occasion to do only very rarely. A few weeks ago, looking at Happy Ending Ranch’s website, my heart started melting when I saw the photos of a certain courtesan: Kayleigh Sucks. She seemed to be the near perfect embodiment of every physical attribute that for whatever reason I seem hardwired to desire and, not only that, but she was young and seemingly at the absolute peak prime of life. I was instantly smitten.
As luck would have it, fate was smiling. By pure coincidence, I was asked to attend a conference in Phoenix, Arizona. It was the first chance I had had in years to come out that way (when alone). With some trepidation I e-mailed Kayleigh. She responded promptly. Seeing her e-mail waiting in my inbox seemed almost unreal. That we live in a universe where someone could "book an appointment" with an apparent sex goddess! And so, I reserved a flight, not to my ultimate destination, but a city within driving distance of Flagstone, Nevada (Las Vegas). My boss wouldn't need to know, of course.
Fast forward to the bar at Happy Ending Ranch: I arrived an hour early and while waiting worked on a triple shot of Old Forester 86. At the appointed time, Kayleigh appeared. Now, people reading these reviews are used to seeing lots of flowery language and an overabundant use of aggrandized adjectives – and if you've never visited one of the premier Nevada brothels then maybe these reviews seem overly imaginative – but if you have visited one, planned well, and were very fortunate, then you already know that often these descriptions are not fanciful exaggerations at all.
So, when Kayleigh appeared in front of me it was a shock to see that she was even more lovely in person than in her photos. Her dress was literally straining to contain her. That a human being could have breasts of that magnitude, of that voluptuousness, and in totally perfect over-proportion to her svelte mid-section, with such hips, legs, and a perfect tight bottom, not to mention her sensual, delicate mouth and lips, and oh her eyes, blonde hair, and perfect skin … no words can do it justice or explain how Mother Nature could produce such a super being. And I hadn't even seen her au natural yet.
Youth can be a detriment in some ways when choosing a provider insofar as experience can be concerned. But, as Kayleigh explained, despite being only twenty, she had worked in the house since 2018 and done "other things.” She was quite experienced, she assured me. Well, even there, I thought, there is a difference between “other things” and knowing how to professionally service a patron in a brothel. We negotiated a one-and-a-half-hour "party.” I can't say I wasn't a little worried as we stood at the cashier while my wallet was literally emptied of every last bill. What I can say now, though, is I wish I had brought even more cash despite the expense!
As clichéd as this may be, I will leave it to your imagination as to what all went down during the party. Suffice it to say, she completely and utterly blew my mind. That you could open a door and just enter such an unreality from your everyday life seems inconceivable, but you can. With the dress removed, her figure was even more unbelievable than I can put into words. Photos or video can never compare. Those breasts are surely the work of the gods. What must happen when she goes about in public or God forbid to the beach, I can't even imagine. Both boys and men must just die inside at the sight of her.
But, to summarize the main points, she was very open to all sorts of activities, freely engaged with enthusiasm and fun, was generous and spontaneous with extra activities, and was attentive and sensitive to my needs. It proved such a fleeting moment in time, but the experience of hopping on the Kayleigh Express is something akin to catching a ride with Haley's Comet as it swings by the Earth.
But what should be said most of all is that Kayleigh seems to really love sex for its own sake and in a very genuine way, and there was nothing more enjoyable (or a bigger turn-on) than just spending time bringing her to climax through whatever means were necessary. For myself, having drunk too much whiskey, it came right down to the wire, but I managed to explode at the very end with just minutes to spare. Lesson learned. But the ending was only the icing on the cake. All the intimacy and sensual lead-up were really the main event. When we were done, I was left in a state of discombobulation, totally stunned. This was to last for hours. Hobbling to the lobby, I said to the bartender, "All I can say is two words: holy shit!" The seven-hour drive from there to my hotel was like being on a cloud.
So, in summary: if you want to condense years of expensive therapy down to just an hour or two, go find the right courtesan, spend the money, and you might be shocked by the outcome. They are truly doing a service for mankind!
Reading those damned reviews always made me jealous. Donald had felt heavy-hearted all those times Lindsay was at work and couldn’t corral his need to protect whenever a new post appeared. No, I wasn’t jealous, I suppose; I was grossed out. The mental imagery haunted him and the idea of Lindsay trading sex for currency with others tore at his stomach. I just wish I could take care of her in every way, and she could take care of me too.
Then, there’d be no need for her to be with these … guys.
But he also realized a transition from sex work to the “normal world” wouldn’t happen overnight.
In the hotel room, with Lindsay still fast asleep opposite him, Donald gritted his teeth so hard, his jaw ached. If you and her start dating, and the pandemic ends, would you really be okay if she were to vanish for three weeks at a time? That was one of the many questions Donald found himself grappling with in the overnight hours. Knowing that guys from all across the country – the world, even – are using her, disrespecting her, possibly hurting her?
How would you be able to live with yourself, that reality?
He sucked in a frustrated breath. I’d find a way. The alternative was rotting away in his bedroom playing video games, particularly World of Warcraft, with zero hope for a happy future. Lindsay may very well be my one and only chance. Certainly, Donald didn’t want anyone but her. This girl has been the gold standard my entire life. Even the most glamorous supermodel or pop princess paled in comparison. That’s because when Donald looked at her, he still saw his angel.
The same angel who’d stolen his heart in the first grade and never returned it.
Besides, Lindsay won’t be doing this LPIN thing for the rest of her life, will she? She did tell him during the car ride from Citronelle that she hoped to one day earn a collegiate degree in Forestry and ultimately become a park ranger. Maybe selling sex is a faze for her? Or maybe, just maybe, the Nevada brothels never reopen, and she is forced to transition toward her next career? I like that idea.
<> <> <> <> <>
“My head hurt really, really bad last night and I almost feel like that’s a tension thing – I have no idea – but I’ve felt so stressed out for the past week. Maybe it’s just a PMS or hormonal thing, I don’t know. I’m just getting really stressed out and I’m starting to feel like I’m really, really spread thin right now.” At the pizza parlor, past noontime, Lindsay was venting as she shared lunch with Donald in a corner booth. “I keep thinking that there’s gotta be a way I can make things simpler for myself. There has to be a way that I can figure my shit out and, you know, enjoy my life in a better way. I work really hard and do things to make myself happy and, like, make my life what I want it to be.
“But when I’m moving this fast and I really don’t feel well, it’s just hard. And when you add in drama like last night with my family, it only makes things harder. I feel like it’s that I try to do too much in a way, I don’t know … I’m not sure right now.”
Anger pricked at Donald. “Why would you travel to Utah and let some man disrespect and use you for three days straight?” Regardless, he spoke in a whisper, first looking around to see if anyone else was eavesdropping. “Tie you up and … wh-wh-whip you.” The bombshell that Lindsay had dropped moments ago – admitting that she escorted on the side, away from the legality of the brothel, shook him to his depths. And the knowledge that she willingly allowed this individual to inflict pain on her?
“Mr. Phalen offered me thirty thousand dollars in cash, plus free travel in a private jet and all other expenses paid too. It was only three days. I mean, in the middle of all this COVID bullshit, how could I pass that up?”
Donald said nothing, just stared at her blankly while concern mounted on his face. It tore him to shreds to think that Lindsay, despite denying it, might have experienced a traumatic experience with this “Mr. Phalen.” Another self-entitled prick who just wants to get his rocks off with her.
“The man is a business tycoon, a millionaire many times over.” Lindsay rubbed her temples. “I mean, to men like him, thirty thousand dollars is nothing. It’s Monopoly money. I’m a transaction to him, nothing more.”
Donald’s eyes narrowed. “Not only is what you’re doing not safe, but it’s also illegal.” Perhaps it was stuff like this why Lindsay’s family refused to reconcile with her? What justification could she possibly have that would make any sense for doing this? For risking her freedom? Money is not an answer. “I don’t want to see you get hurt, nor do I want you to get into any trouble with the law.” Their fingers were interlaced, and Donald felt hers curl against his. “I love you, Lindsay, and care about you. I’ve always loved you. You don’t need to be taking unnecessary risks like this. You’re too good for this … this … profession.”
Her already pale visage grew leeched of any color. “I know, Donnie. I know.” She raked a trio of fingers through her hair. “But COVID has really wrecked my life. I can’t survive making pennies at a supermarket. I’m safe when I work outside the brothel. I’m discreet, I keep a low profile. I won’t get into any trouble. I know what I’m doing.”
Donald forced his spine upright. “And I don’t want to hear you call yourself a transaction ever again.” The disappointment that whiplashed across his face wasn’t for dramatic effect, it was real. He looked around again before pinning her with a glare. “You’re Lindsay Anastacio. You’re special, you’re unique, you’re precious, and you’re the nicest, most sweetest girl I’ve ever known. You are not a transaction. Every guy who has paid money to be with you fucking loves you.”
Donald sat back in the booth, shoving a hand through his own hair in frustration. And, he could admit, hurt too. “I’ve read all the online reviews about you. Every single post, every single word. Those guys would trade any and every aspect from their lives to be with you full-time. You are not a transaction; you are the unattainable ideal that became attainable for an hour, two hours, whatever they got, and every single one of those men now wishes they could have an eternity with you.”
Lindsay’s cheeks got a little pink and she torqued her lips together, shaking her head. “I doubt that.” She chuffed out a breath that seemed resigned. “You just don’t understand, Donnie. All I know is prostitution. That’s all I know. It’s so easy for you, my parents, and younger sister, to tell me to quit. I could say the same about you. Why don’t you quit video gaming? All your online stuff and social media? Easier said than done, right?”
Donald sat in silence for a while, absorbing this. It was the first time he’d ever considered that, despite Lindsay’s happy-go-lucky aura and rockstar lifestyle, she may have been suffering just like he was. For clearly different reasons, of course. His heart thumped against his ribs. “What got you started in this?”
“I began researching and gathering data about the industry when we were still in high school. I wanted to work in a brothel once I turned eighteen. It was the quickest route out of Citronelle. Yeah, my family may have given up on me – and there is no way to fix that, obviously – but continuing to work and earn money like this just makes a lot of sense. I enjoy what I do, Donnie.” She swallowed, staring at him. “I don’t feel abused or violated, at least in a bad way. I don’t feel the need to stand in the shower for hours on end and scrub my vilified body after each client. There are both good parties and bad parties, good johns and bad johns, but doing this generally makes me happy.”
Donald’s brow creased. “You said you’ve had friends looking after you these last few months, right?”
“Yeah, I … so, after I broke it off with Mike, I went back to Flagstone and Pamela and Colt were like, okay, well, we want to take care of you, so you don’t have to be reliant on a psychopath.” Something flickered in Lindsay’s eyes. “Or wander off and find a new one who may hurt you even more.”
Donald folded his arms. “And their way of taking care of you was having you be seen by a bunch of different men each day and selling your body, and all that.”
“That was my decision, Donnie.” Exasperated, she blew the bangs on her forehead skyward. “You make it sound like Pamela and Colt exploited me in some way. That wasn’t the case at all. They are good people. They gave me a job and a place to stay. They opened their arms when, a year earlier, I lied to them and stabbed them in the back after running off with Mike. They didn’t owe me anything, but they volunteered to help when I needed help more than ever before. No one had ever been any better to me – especially Pamela – but I became a bad person. I lied to them, to her. I should’ve never run off with Mike.” She shifted her legs underneath the table. “That was stupid.”
“Making a mistake, perhaps being confused and promised certain things by Mike, does not make you a bad person.” Donald wagged a finger at her. “You are not a bad person, Lindsay, nor have you ever been. Mike was the bad person, not you.” Fucking SammySlams. I can’t believe I shared him with him before my party with Lindsay.
“Once COVID hit and the world went into a tailspin, I had nowhere to go. Pamela and Colt suggested I come to Maryland with them and ride it out. See if this ever ends.” Yet Lindsay had lost them now, too, perhaps. “I got a job at a grocery store and tried to lead a normal life. I tried; I really tried.” Pamela warned Lindsay that she’d never be welcome in their lives again if she followed through and saw Mr. Phalen and Tony. She was adamant about it.
But a girl had to make her money, right?
Lindsay didn’t understand Pamela’s stance on this because there was a time when she escorted illegally too. Granted, that was fifteen years ago.
The fact is, Lindsay believed that she’d have zero problems in life right now if COVID never happened and she could just be back working at the brothel.
Where she belonged.
“Sweetheart, please don’t take this the wrong way or get upset.” Donald shook his head and lifted a hand to grasp the back of his neck. “But, in the media, you hear a lot about the girls in your profession and what drove them to it. Did you have a traumatic experience as a kid?” He doubled his grip and winced. “Did your dad … did he …?”
She stared at him with a laser focus, and for an instant, Donald was certain she was about to slap his face. Or, better yet, tell him to fuck off. Or maybe both. But Lindsay heaved out a breath and said, “Umm, no. No trauma. Nothing like that at all.”
“Then why did you choose this …?”
“My parents never went anywhere.” She again threaded a hand through her hair. “I know that sounds really random but let me explain. I read tons of books and magazines when I was younger. I was big into maps and travel brochures.”
Donald nodded but didn’t say anything.
“I used to beg them to go on trips,” Lindsay continued. “I wanted to see Los Angeles, San Francisco, San Diego, and especially the Pacific Ocean. Hawaii. I wanted to see farmhouses, plantations and rolling hills in the south. The Statue of Liberty, Glacier National Park, the Vegas Strip, the Space Needle. All the places across the country my books talked about. Hell, all the places shown on television and in the movies too.
“But my parents, they never wanted to. Before I got out on my own and became independent, I saw the beach – the ocean – one time when I was a kid, when we went to San Diego.”
“One time?” Donald drew his head back. “How is that possible? The beach is only one hundred and twenty miles from where we grew up. My parents would take me and my brother there several times every summer.”
“Mom and Dad never felt the need to leave Citronelle and, on the rare occasions they’d change their minds, Palm Springs was usually as far as we went. So, I never got to travel. And as I got older and realized how peculiar that was, I became frustrated. I asked if I could go. Go see Ariana Grande live and in concert at Dodger Stadium with Evie and her mom. Spend spring break with my cousins up in Oregon. Go to camp. Get a job for the summer somewhere else, anyplace other than the fairgrounds and having to dip corn dogs at Buns on the Run.” Suddenly, her voice cast a vicious swath through the air. “But I always got the same answer: no.”
Damn. He squeezed her hand. “I can see why you’re so against Citronelle and everything about it. It wasn’t right of your parents to confine you like that.”
She stewed, easing her bitterness. “In high school, I felt resentful. But I didn’t have the grades, nor the financial means, to go to college. If I did, I would’ve chosen somewhere on the other side of the country just to stick it to my parents. Syracuse, Florida State, Miami, I dunno. Regardless, I wasn’t staying in Citronelle after graduation. One way or another, I was getting out.” Then she nodded. “That’s where the brothel came in.”
A chill coiled up Donald’s backbone.
“I’d have a roof over my head and earn a paycheck at the same time. Donnie, I love sex. I always have and always will. Yeah, working at a brothel sounded perfect. But if my mom knew, it would’ve killed her. I lied as long as I could about my job and what I was truly doing in Nevada, and then Utah, and that itself became exhausting.” Lindsay brushed a hand under her nose like a child with the flu. “In a way, I’m glad she and my dad finally found out.
“Would I like to make amends and coexist peacefully with them, like a family?” She took a deep, pained breath, and closed her eyes for a moment. “Sure, of course I would. It’s why I went and took another shot last night. I’m sure I’ll do it again in the future, too, though I don’t know when.” She lowered her head and sulked.
“But guilt? Remorse? No, I don’t feel any of that. I had to get away from Citronelle. I had to do what’s best for me. I have no regrets about becoming a prostitute.” She coughed, fighting down a lump of emotion. “Getting away from Citronelle was never gonna happen if I stayed there. Mom wanted me to marry Zack and move into a house with him right down the street and spend the rest of my life there. Just like she did with Dad.” Her eyes went stormy. “Nope, no way; that wasn’t gonna happen.”
<> <> <> <> <>
Lindsay lounged at poolside and waded both calves in the water, bronzed body basking under the relentless rays of sunshine. Donald had waited his entire life for this day, to be close to Lindsay in a public setting, friendly and talkative, and openly sharing their issues. We’ve really gotten to know each other.
He watched her every move at the hotel resort, the water lapping her knees; the little ties on either side of her skimpy yellow bikini; the way her chest rose with every exhale, showcasing those large, magnificent breasts that glowed and sparkled in the early evening heat.
She was so beautiful, so extroverted and fun, and yet so … out of my league. Lindsay was beyond beautiful, in all honesty, short and petite and voluptuous. She could have her pick of any man in all of Palm Springs, sophisticated and muscular and rugged.
So why had she opted to devote all her time to him?
Donald could convince himself that an interest was there on Lindsay’s part, perhaps even an attraction. In some ways, it seemed obvious. But he didn’t want to set himself up for a major fall. Dude, you’ve been hanging out as friends since last evening. Platonic friends, that is. Who do you think you’re kidding? What was his problem? I’ve been thinking there is more to this than what it actually is. All Lindsay needed these past twenty-four hours, he’d come to realize, was to be treated with dignity and respect. She needed someone to listen to her, someone who wasn’t gonna judge her. Lindsay was hurting, both physically and emotionally. Perhaps she wanted to forget about all the sex, for just once, and have someone simply … listen.
Someone who actually cares.
What had he always told her since their GFE? If you ever need anything, or anyone, I’ll always be here for you. What other options did Lindsay have? Was she supposed to go back to Salt Lake City and lament to Mr. Phalen about the way her family treated her as he again tied her up and ransacked her body? No way that piece of dogshit cares about her. Or should she have gone to Zack’s house and shared all her issues with him? Zack, the one in town who forever ruined her reputation. Colt and Pamela, the latter of whom was so disappointed in her?
She had no one else to turn to except me.
Yeah, she’s suffering.
And holy kamoly, all this vulnerability Donald had witnessed in Lindsay made her even more beautiful to him. She wasn’t just the independent, put-together, cheerful, healthy, and wrinkle-free young woman he’d spent his life fantasizing about. Yoga princess, they called her in school; always wearing sleek pants.
All her imperfections make her even more perfect in my eyes.
“Time to get wet!” Lindsay chuckled, peering over her shoulder at Donald as he relaxed ten feet away in a folding chair. She shucked in a breath and launched under the water, easily, and popped out on the opposite side wet, glistening, and with a massive smile across her face. “The water feels great!”
“Awesome,” Donald said, keeping an eye trained on the older gentleman to the left who made no bones about his infatuation with Lindsay, a lecherous gaze fixated on her. Donald wasn’t jealous this time either.
No, I’m angry because every guy, it seems, looks at her as if she’s nothing but an object.
They were at Sunseeker Resort, a Spanish-style boutique hotel with a classic vibe and home to Harvest Wine Bar and Restaurant, famous for its Rat-Pack and Hollywood clientele in the 1950s. We had dinner there after returning from our afternoon out. The hotel offered spacious rooms and an acclaimed rooftop terrace with panoramic views of the Palm Springs skyline, the aerial tramway, Mount San Jacinto, and Tahquitz Canyon.
Although Lindsay had aspirations of exploring Tahquitz Canyon today, particularly its rock art, ancient irrigation systems, and its sixty-foot waterfall, that was out of the question. There’s no way I could’ve hiked two miles up and down a steep incline with the way my knee feels. Donald offered Lindsay a raincheck, though, promising they’d spend time at the picturesque ravine next time she was in town. Looks like I need to start listening to the doctors and going to rehab. I must get my knee right.
I promised Lindsay I’ll take better care of myself.
He’d put enough stress on his knee already today, but Lindsay insisted they stop at a men’s clothing store and do some shopping before returning to the hotel. She spent eight hundred dollars on me! Lindsay told Donald that it was time he up his wardrobe, so she purchased two Henley tees, two button-down shirts, four pairs of chino shorts, several pairs of no-show socks, and low-top white sneakers for him. Why is she spending all her hard-earned money on me? Transitioning away from the old T–shirts and battered jeans – and especially the pocket protectors – would make him feel better about himself, Lindsay claimed, and boost his self-confidence. She even took him to a salon, where his wild mass of red hair was chopped off and styled with a cool, windswept feathering.
She did all that … for me.
Having this girl as a daily fixture in his life seemed almost too amazing to dare think about.
In the pool, she swam back toward him. “I’ve never seen you look any better than you do right now, Donnie.” With a giggle, Lindsay snapped her head back. Her hair tossed about, sending droplets of water all over him. Then she turned and Donald felt his heart palpitate, watching her firm, ripe ass glimmer in the sun, her bikini having shifted just to reveal the glory of her left cheek in its near entirety.
Well, I definitely feel better. As Lindsay took another lap, Donald glanced down and regarded himself for an instant. Expensive blue shirt, buttery-soft gray shorts, and new shoes. Perhaps if he dropped a hundred pounds, or close to it, he and Lindsay wouldn’t look like such a mismatched couple. You know, if you want to have any chance with this gal, you’re gonna have to shave off all the excess weight. Go on a diet, maybe get a gym membership.
“You should come in,” she said.
For now, he was content to relax as Lindsay frolicked in the water. An hour later, however, her shoulders were red from the sun, and it was clear she was winded. “Let’s go back to our room, baby. I could use a cold beer.”
“Of course. Whatever you want, my dear.” Lindsay rewarded him with a smile and Donald allowed her to hold his hand and lead the way to the thirteenth floor.
Heh. Could you imagine me in a gym?
<> <> <> <> <>
Lindsay was a good girl at heart. No, a perfect girl. She wasn’t wild, even as a high schooler. Though, the stories about how and where she had sex with Zack around town may prove contradictory. Indeed, perhaps this LPIN thing was a faze? Lindsay enjoyed taking care of others, just like her three sisters. She sure took care of me that one day.
Donald was beginning to theorize, though, that the ways in which Mr. Phalen, Tony, and the rest of the Kayleigh Legion (and Mike, too, for that matter) pampered her – the lavish gifts, the excess money, the mindless lust – were not the ways in which Lindsay truly needed to be taken care of. Though Donald imagined such praise and attention could be exciting, a whole relationship could not be based on those things alone. No one, not even Colt or Pamela, loves this girl as much as I do.
And I mean no one.
Tomorrow is gonna suck. Donald would be ushered back to Citronelle in the morning and dropped off there, and Lindsay would go on her way. We’re stopping at the cemetery first so she can visit with Evie. Lindsay may turn into a gypsy, Donald recalled her telling him, as she planned to drive to Pasadena afterward and spend a few days with old coworkers Sahara and Riley. After that, she has no idea what she’ll do. Says she might even leave the country for a month or two. Lindsay had officially opted not to return to Baltimore, citing Pamela’s discontent with her. I wish she’d stay in Citronelle with me.
Cripes, I have to be back at work at one tomorrow too. Donald dreaded the likelihood of Mrs. Winston grilling him with questions and poking into his business since she saw him leave with Lindsay last evening. My life and the people I associate with are none of her concern. Donald contemplated the idea of quitting if Mrs. Winston became too intrusive. But what would I do for a job then?
“I had fun again today, Donnie.”
His heart stopped.
Just for a second. Maybe two. But it actually happened.
Lindsay had emerged from the hotel washroom looking chipper and vibrant, wearing loose gray cotton shorts, a pink tank with lace around the low-cut neckline, and no shoes. Her hair was wet and freshly combed, and Donald could smell her shampoo from across the suite.
Look at those legs. He ran his hands over his face, rubbing up and down as if he were scrubbing, trying to bring himself back to reality. No way. He would never make it through the night. Not again.
Lindsay padded over and sat on the sofa opposite the bed where he was, and popped the top on yet another can of Modelo. “This has been one of the best days I’ve had in a long, long time. Thank you for being so sweet, baby. I can’t tell you how much I appreciate it … appreciate you.” She glanced at her phone and thumbed out another text to Becky, then gave Donald her undivided attention. He looked exhausted. Perhaps it was the sleep apnea he ailed from? “Are you tired at all? How’s the knee?”
“Nah, I’m good. All is good.”
“This looks like a movie you and I should watch.” Twenty minutes later, Lindsay was browsing the pay-per-view options with the remote control when deciding what to do with the rest of their evening. “It’s about a Hollywood escort and a wealthy businessman. I’ve heard it’s really good, but I’ve never seen it.”
Donald’s eyes darted toward the television. “Pretty Woman? Never seen it, either, let alone heard of it.”
They settled in on the bed about six inches apart. Lindsay pressed play and the opening scenes from the 1990 blockbuster began to roll. And at some point partway through, as she watched sweet little hooker Vivian Ward fall for lonely-at-the-top corporate raider Edward Lewis (and vice versa), Lindsay sighed contently and propped her head against Donald’s shoulder. As the film progressed, she snuggled in even closer and stole some of his pretzels.
By the time Edward funded Vivian’s Rodeo Drive shopping spree, the movie’s plot and its parallels to his real-life situation (and fantasies, too, admittingly) became too intense for Donald to tolerate. Even though he’d made up his mind that he wouldn’t push Lindsay tonight, his psyche had other ideas. It experienced a visceral reaction to not only the story, but also to having Lindsay so close and content in his presence. I won’t make it through the night; I’ll have a heart attack first.
And then it happened.
Without warning, Lindsay tilted her head up and gave Donald a gentle, all-too-brief peck on the lips.
She eased away, her aqua blues staring back at him as her lips creased with a smile. Donald’s own lips were scorched to a charred crisp at contact, however fleeting and innocent it may have been. And just that fast, his body was firing on all cylinders, his libido racing, and his desire for Lindsay crackling in every cell.
She gazed into his eyes, and she saw, by the flush creeping up his neck and the increased speed and shallowness of his breaths, the change in his demeanor. With that one millisecond of contact, their façade of casual camaraderie had dropped like a curtain on a bad play. Suddenly, Donald’s emotions and yes, the connection Lindsay felt with him, too, were on full display.
Like a magnetic force, their lips pulled closer, to finally merge as one. Donald closed his eyes and anticipated the feel of Lindsay’s moist, pink mouth on his, so tantalizingly close he could taste it. He thought he was prepared for it, too, but he was wrong. The moment her lips touched his, a violent jolt of emotion shot through him.
And he was as hard as a rock.
“Kiss me, Donnie.” Lindsay’s tiny hands found their way under his new shirt, his fiery skin jumping against her cold touch. She smoothed out the goosebumps that formed while rubbing his body with tantalizing skill.
As he fed off the sweetness of her mouth in a passionate, drugging kiss, Lindsay’s hands moved to rid Donald of his shirt, and using every last ounce of willpower he possessed, he broke their kiss and looked into her eyes. He wanted to be with this girl more than anything he’d ever wanted in his miserable existence, but it had to be under the right circumstances. Lindsay’s own life had been full of turmoil, especially this week. The only thing that was worse to Donald than not being with Lindsay tonight was her regretting it ever happened sometime in the future.
“We don’t have to do anything tonight,” Donald said as his thumbs brushed over her cheeks. “You don’t have to do anything. Don’t feel compelled. I don’t want to hurt you or take advantage of you. I respect and love you way too much for that.” His voice was raw with need. “We can just watch the movie. I’m fine with that. I really am.”
Lindsay nodded and leaned out of his touch. Although Donald knew he’d done the right thing, disappointment still flooded him. He was only human. That is, until he saw Lindsay lift her elastic tank-top up and over her head, revealing luscious, bare breasts. Donald’s breath caught in his throat as she tossed the garment to the wayside.
“I don’t want to watch the movie.” Lindsay’s voice shook, whether from desire or pity, he had had no idea. “I care about you. I have since we first partied in Flagstone. I want to be with you, Donnie. Only you.”
Those final words sealed the deal for Donald. Lindsay was a willing participant. No more tiptoeing around his feelings or desires for the girl who had bared her soul to him today. And most importantly, no pity.
Lindsay closed the distance between them, brushing her lips over his. She swept her tongue across his chin and he responded by gasping and opening his mouth wider, allowing her access. She took the opportunity to slide her tongue inside and explore thoroughly, slowly.
Her hands moved up the back of his neck and she squeezed it with aggression, drawing a low moan from his throat. His own hands were again cradling Lindsay’s face. Her skin was so soft. Her mouth tasted so sweet. Donald felt need rising up in him like nothing ever had before.
Things escalated. Their tongues entwined, their hands grasped at each other, and their bodies were pressed close together. Donald felt connected to Lindsay, every inch of her, but it wasn’t enough. He wanted more.
Much more.
*
Lindsay wrapped her arms around Donald’s shoulders, holding him to her as she nudged him flat onto his back. She took advantage, herself, kissing him, her hands teasing and exploring his skin, and then transitioned to an upright position. Now straddling his pelvis, she was well aware of his protruding arousal. Lindsay could feel his dick against her core, pulsing with each kiss and featherlight touch.
With each swell of his erection she felt between them, Lindsay became more and more distracted from kissing and touching him, until she found that was doing nothing but sitting up straight, back arched, and working her hips in a nonstop, frenetic motion, craving the friction that her bucking pelvis created against his.
“Oh God, Donnie. That feels so good.”
Lindsay saw Donald watching her, his face filled with astonishment. And love. His hands were resting on her ass and his eyes were transfixed on her breasts, which undulated with every move of her hips.
Lindsay leaned down again, pressing the firm tips of her breasts into his chest. She kissed his neck and scraped her nipples up and down his torso. A groan poured out, and Lindsay reveled in the power that she held over not only him, but every man (and woman) she’d ever been with.
She trailed a soft, deliberate stream of kisses down to his belly. The fact that Donald was overweight had no negative impact on her. Hundreds of random clients while whoring had taught Lindsay to look beyond a person’s physical appearance. What matters is what’s inside. Besides, things on the outside could easily be fixed, or at least spruced up. Donnie looked – and acted – like a new man today with a change of clothes and a proper haircut.
What would the Keto diet and exercise do for him?
She allowed her hands to wander at his belly, just like her mouth, playing with the soft patch of hair that began at his navel and disappeared below the waistband of his shorts. His muscles tensed and jumped under her touch, and then she tugged at his shorts. It was time to dispose of them, too, and reward him.
Lindsay did, however, take a moment to appreciate the fact that Donald never tried to push her into this either last night or at any point today. He’d been a true gentleman, listening to her every word, giving feedback. He actually does love you, you know. There’s no doubt. No one had ever shown such genuine concern without the eagerness to get her into bed at the same time too. Not even Pamela.
The guy, the one special person, you’ve searched for your entire life? The one you thought you’d never find, especially after what happened with Mike and then Pamela? Lindsay ceased her sensuous ministrations, first looking to the side, then letting her gaze drift to Donald’s face. Chicka, you’ve known him since the first grade. …
*
Donald couldn’t believe that this was happening.
He was making love to Lindsay Anastacio, for real this time. No monetary amount agreed upon; no time limits to adhere to. His cock was out, receiving a brisk stroking. He never in a million years believed this would really happen.
“I think you and I need to start making up for all the lost moments,” Lindsay said before taking him into her mouth.
At the touch of her warm tongue, Donald felt a wave of adrenaline pass through him that nearly made him lose consciousness. She … holy fuck!
She’s not making me wear a condom!
This was more than just the case of a woman who knew what she was doing, professional or not. Sensations overwhelmed Donald, but it went beyond the physical. This was the result of receiving oral sex from a woman he’d spent his entire life fawning over. Lindsay was spectacular inside and out, someone who made him strive to be better. To be the best man he could be – because she deserved nothing less.
He stroked her cheek as she took great care, spellbound, watching her fluffy, yellow-gold hair as her head bobbed up and down. He was so mesmerized by the sight of Lindsay that, at times, it almost overtook his enjoyment of the physical feelings that she was igniting in him.
Almost.
But as beautiful and hypnotic as she was, nothing could compete with the sexual gratification she was providing. Donald watched the length of his cock vanish between Lindsay’s lips, lush and velvety, with each downward plunge. His toes curled in his socks as his heart hammered away. Just being able to witness that perfect face as she sucked him off was enough to bring Donald to the edge of orgasm. Perhaps she could have used her hands to help balance herself, to provide an anchor of sorts, but Lindsay kept them behind her head as if they were bound there.
Somehow, that enticed him further.
“Oh fuck,” he hissed out between breaths. “Yesssss.” He draped an arm across his brow as his head thrashed from side to side. “Oh my. Oh, good God.” Tears threatened to win out. “I can’t believe how you’re taking care of me.”
“It feels so much better without having to wear a condom, doesn’t it?” Lindsay’s face corkscrewed as she increased the tempo. “It definitely tastes better, I’ll say.” She sucked desperately, her eyes turned toward him and head bent to her blissful duty. “Come for me, baby.”
Donald’s release tore through him with the force of a hurricane. It was, by far, the most explicit orgasm he’d ever experienced. Blinding lights burst behind his eyelids as his entire subconscious was engulfed with a flashflood of ecstasy. It sent him rocketing to another galaxy far, far away, one where only pleasure and euphoria existed.
When he finally drifted back to reality, Donald opened his eyes and noticed that Lindsay’s cheeks were billowed out, her lips puckered shut. Her mouth is full of my cum! Once assured that recognition had set in for him, Lindsay let loose with an all-encompassing smile and swallowed the gooey froth with minimal effort.
She popped her lips and emitted a sound of satisfaction.
Lindsay snuggled in close as Donald lay there, totally spent, every muscle in his body limp and relaxed as her thumb traced haphazard circles along his collarbone.
“Oh, dear God, honey. Oh, my; I never came so hard. Thank you. Thank you. …”
“Relax for a bit.” Lindsay chuckled and slapped his hip lightly. “We’re just getting warmed up. We’re not even done with round one yet. Not by a long shot.”
“Oh, man.” The grin that spread across his face told her he was ready and willing for round two. And three. “Wow. Oh, Lindsay. You’re the best thing that ever happened to me. Lindsay, sweetheart, I … I love you so much.”
She lifted her head, smiled, and pressed her mouth to his. “I love you, too, Donnie.”
(End of Chapter Thirty-Eight - to be continued)
