A Chance Encounter...

A Chance Encounter

--- As It Played Out... It Was Needed

This story contains sexual activities and situations between consenting adults. All characters are over eighteen. Any similarity to any individual, living or deceased, or location is coincidental and unintended.

My life is confusing and overwhelming at times. I'm a 28-year-old American girl living in Camden Town, a trendy London neighborhood. I moved to London for fashion design school and now work for one of London's top design houses. I've always wanted to start my own branded fashion line, but I need significantly more money than I can earn as a young associate at the design firm.

I also have expensive tastes in clothes and travel, and other finer things in life, with a growing sexual appetite whose desire for sex has become all-consuming.

I was just a typical girl in my twenties... young and ambitious, trying to make my mark in the extremely competitive fashion design industry, whose sex life went from almost non-existent to wanting, or rather, needing cock or pussy every night. So, what's so confusing? Well... there is more to the story.

My girlfriend at the design firm, Fallon Phillips, asked why I was giving it away when I could earn some walking-around-money by escorting part-time. So, I became Darcie Monroe, an American girl working as an escort in London.

Of course, Darcie is not my real name. My real name is Presley Blackwell-Kent. Well, that's not my birth name; I was born Robert and was raised in California.

I am one hot babe, a blue-eyed blonde, 5'7" with long, athletic legs, and a perfectly formed booty. My breasts are 350cc silicone implants that look more natural than they are. I will mesmerize you with my captivating smile. My panty bulge is not massive, but it's shaved, cut with a sculptured helmet, and fully functional.

My escort clients love me. It went from part-time to full-time, and my personal social life has become almost non-existent. I have been juggling two careers, and I needed an escape. Yes, I was overwhelmed. So, my two besties, Fallon Phillips and Lucy York, planned a holiday in the countryside. They both had to cancel at the last minute. I still needed a little quiet time, so I went alone.

This story will be told from Presley Blackwell-Kent's perspective and will appear in the Penthouse Pets Escorts series. This particular story was inspired by a friend I have met on Lit. Hopefully my friend will write a companion story. Wink, there are always two sides to a very good story. Enjoy the read, but please bear with me.

Tregaron, Ceredigion, Wales

I can't believe my girlfriends canceled on me... both at the last minute. I was looking forward to this long holiday weekend. I have been looking forward to this getaway for weeks. All I wanted was to spend some quiet time in the Welsh countryside, to do some hiking, and reconnect with nature. At night, I just wanted some good food, then to curl up with a glass of wine by a roaring fire and read a good book. On the edge of the Cambrian Mountains, Tregaron is one of the best Welsh countryside towns. My accommodations are at the 'Y Talbot', on the Square.

Tregaron is nearly a five-hour journey from London via the motorway. I could have taken the train, but Lucy graciously lent me her car. She has never stopped apologizing for canceling at the last minute. Once I escaped London and its bustling surrounding towns, the drive was beautiful and leisurely.

I arrived mid-afternoon. The proprietor, Gwenllian Jones, greeted me, showed me to my room, and suggested a walkabout through the village of Tregaron. It's a beautiful town that epitomizes the raw Welsh culture. Gwenllian, pronounced Gwynne, bragged that Tregaron was one of the most authentic countryside villages in all of Wales.

As I discovered during my journey through the village, it has a lot of history. The village was a crossroads for men driving their livestock to market. It was a meeting place of the drovers. The town's unique architecture reflects this long-standing history.

I must say that it was different from my upbringing and, of course, my current lifestyle in London. I was far from the design world... and my escort life, as much as I could be. That's why I'm here.

A Quiet Evening

Since I was alone, I ate dinner in the dog-friendly pub. The food was exceptional, and the atmosphere was warm and welcoming. After dinner, I sat by the roaring fire in the hotel's lobby. And yes, I curled up with the book I have been reading: 'My Sex Drive Is Not Under Control' by Danielle MacLeod. I know you are already chuckling to yourself.

The book follows three oversexed career women, Clara, Katie, and Emily, living on the USA's East Coast. They met at a UNI in the States and remained in touch as their careers blossomed. Each year, they held a reunion of sorts to keep each other apprised of their lives or, more succinctly, their sexual relationships with men and women. It's been a fascinating read; I have placed myself as one of the women. Clara is who I can imagine as me. She was who I have always wanted to be.

I am engrossed in the book, but from time to time I would set it aside to watch the comings and goings of the hotel and restaurant guests. And, of course, to pet one of the tail-wagging dogs.

One gentleman in particular sat across the room, enjoying a pale pint and reading a book; more of a manuscript, not a hardbound book. Every so often, he would look my way. I was doing the same. On one of these back-and-forths, we actually made direct eye contact. He smiled; I smiled back. I abruptly went back to reading my book.

After a few minutes, I felt someone standing nearby. When I looked up, it was that gentleman. He spoke, "Sorry to interrupt. But I noticed the book you were reading. I am Daniel MacGregor."

Bookmarking my place, I set the book aside, face down. The book title itself wasn't something you normally talk to strangers about. Smiling, I looked up and said, "Yes, Mr. MacGregor?" To say the least, this was an awkward beginning to a conversation.

He immediately caught on to my uneasiness. "Sorry, I'm a book publisher, and the book you are reading is one of our published works." He reached into his wallet and swiftly produced a business card with his name on it: 'Daniel MacGregor, Motley Publications', with a London address and contact details, and a tagline of sorts: 'Everything Eclectic!'

Sure enough, on the back cover of the book, in small print, were the words 'Motley Publications' with the same London details that appear on Mr. MacGregor's business card.

Smiling, I extended my hand. 'I'm Presley Blackwell-Kent." Pausing, trying to decide what to do next, Mr. MacGregor interrupted...

"May I sit, Ms. Blackwell-Kent? It's not often you get to meet and personally talk to one of our book readers."

He waited for me to respond. I motioned for him to sit. I added, "Please call me Presley." My non-British accent is quite evident.

He replied, "Please call me Dan." After a moment, she said. "You don't meet many Americans out here in the Welsh countryside. And not many as stunning as you, Presley."

The conversation shifted from friendly and inquisitive to flirtatious. Dan MacGregor wasn't really my type. He's a pretty average-looking guy, short dark hair, a man in his late forties or early fifties, past his athletic prime; no longer buff. Truth be told, he fit the description of one of my escort punters.

I will say that the conversation with Dan was comfortable. We worked through the early awkwardness. He told me about his role as an editor at Motley Publications. He said he once wanted to be a novelist; he still dabbles in writing from time to time. But loves his role as an editor, helping new and old authors get their books, their dreams, published.

In turn, I talked about my dream of becoming a fashion designer, following in the footsteps of my parents, but establishing my own line and identity. As an editor, Dan piqued my interest in writing. I told him I faintly wanted to write my own novel one day. I even had a title, 'Lost in My Femininity!' I quickly added, "With my busy life, I can't find enough time to write.

Dan listened intently to my rambling. He didn't inquire about my budding desire to write. He may have assumed that the vague reference was about my desire to be a designer. We did chat about the book I was reading. He seemed to know a lot about it. Perhaps he was the editor. He didn't say.

We flirted; I stopped short of seduction. I could feel my exhaustion creeping in. I didn't want to start something I couldn't finish tonight. After listening to him talk openly about the variety of publications that Motley released, he might be open-minded about the surprise in my knickers.

I had another glass of wine; then another. Dan was drinking a seasonal brew from Y Talbot. They brew their cask ales and seasonal brews nearby. I promised to have one with him tomorrow.

Thus, Dan asked about my plans for tomorrow morning. I agreed to meet him for breakfast, and he agreed to guide me on a walkabout in the countryside. It was getting late; I was a little exhausted from the drive from London and perhaps too many glasses of wine. I went off to bed alone. Yes, alone, odd for me.

My escorting regularly feeds my sexual appetite addiction. Otherwise, I would go through boys and girls as someone with a cold goes through tissues. You know, blow or suck them until they are all wet and limp, then throw them away for a fresh one.

As I went to my room, I chuckled to myself. 'Danny-boy may have a surprise or two in store for him tomorrow. Because I do love to seduce boys!'

Breakfast Followed By The Walkabout

Danny was already in the courtyard when I arrived in my hiking boots, knee-high socks, spandex shorts, and a long-sleeved wicky shirt that fit snugly over my ample chest. My floppy hat would keep the sun off my neck. My shorts could be a little too tight. Let's hope I don't get aroused.

Breakfast was 'Dau Wy sgramblo neu Ffâ Pob ar Dost', or in English, two eggs scrambled and beans on toast.

Dan arranged for the kitchen to provide us a carry-out lunch. Dan was very attentive and took care of everything for today's adventure. Apparently, he comes to Tregaron often, and the staff at Y Talbot know him well.

We spent the brisk day walking the 'Cors Caron Nature Reserve'. It was everything I expected and needed. Daniel has toured the reserve many times. He knew all the special spots. We lingered in some areas and pressed on in others. He found us the perfect spot to have lunch. From time to time, I had to discreetly adjust my shorts. I needed to be more cognizant that my bulge might show.

Dan... I think he preferred Daniel, but allowed me to call him Dan. I called him Danny once... he corrected me. "Presley, it's never Danny!" He was the perfect guide. I think he preferred the longer walkabouts but accommodated the newbie today. I enjoyed his company immensely. We returned to the hotel and agreed to meet for dinner.

I was tired and needed a nap. Yes, I went to my room alone.

Dinner with Daniel

I was dressed casually on the outside. A button-front burgundy sweater and skinny jeans. When I unbuttoned the top two or three buttons, my black balconette bra showed a little lace and pushed the girls firm. Danny, err... Dan's eyes will be sidetracked all night. Hopefully he will get to discover close up my snug bulge tucked into my satin pouched thong. Of course they were matching black.

Promptly at 7, we met in the traditional dining room. Dan was casually dressed as well. Dinner was exquisite. I had Confit duck leg, and Daniel, who is partial to their Welsh lamb rump, shared a few delicious bites with me. Daniel also impressed me with his knowledge of the Welsh beers and ales, matching the 'cwrw '-Welsh for beer to our entrees.

Dinner conversation was smooth. Flirtatious for sure. I became touchy-feely with Daniel, and he, of course, gently brushed my arm from time to time. After dinner, we relaxed in the adjoining pub. We sat at a quiet table in the back.

We enjoyed the Chef's renowned caramelized banana cheesecake there. It lived up to its creamy legend. Daniel again suggested the Penderyn Madeira, single malt; for me, he sipped on a Laphroaig 10-year-old whiskey. As we talked and laughed, the conversation hit one of those awkward silences. It gave Dan an opening to act assertively.

Daniel reached for my hand, gently rubbed my palm, looked into my eyes, and leaned in; his mouth was now inches from mine. I squirmed in my chair, pushing my head even closer, as Dan squeezed my hand tighter and held my neck with his other hand; he pressed his lips softly to mine. We kissed gently.

My heart raced... my breathing grew heavy. Dan's back was to the other pub patrons. I occasionally peeked over his shoulder to make sure no one was staring at our soon-to-be shenanigans.

His hand slid down my neck, then around my upper torso, gently stroking my back. He pulled me closer; his tongue was gently teasing against mine. We both let out soft groans. I pressed my chest into him, lifting my neck; I melted into his gentle kissing.

Breaking our kiss, he left soft kisses along my jawline to my chin. One soft kiss at a time. Captivated by his gentle kisses, I purred. His other hand slipped underneath my sweater, exploring my back. His touch to my bare skin was tender; his warm fingers were soothing. His fingers smoothly traced the seam of my bra, and my repeated whimpers turned to soft moans.

Dan's gentle kisses slid down my chest... then slowly back to my chin. He whispered, "Presley, I have wanted you since I first saw you yesterday... curled up reading my book." He paused, knowing that he revealed a little too much.' Trying to cover his misstep, he said, "You remind me of Clara!"

At first, Dan's comments didn't register. Suddenly, I pushed back calmly, chuckling. "Dan, you just confirmed my suspicions. " Apparently, his pen name is Danielle MacLeod. It intrigued me that a man could write so vividly about three women and their budding sex lives. I wondered if he pictured himself as one of the novel's characters, perhaps Katie or Emily... since I was his Clara.

I now had so many questions. I was excited to meet the author of a novel I was reading, and I was spooning with him in public. There were goosebumps on my arms. Dan was embarrassed that his secret was revealed, but the blush on his face finally faded. He spoke softly, "I know you have questions..." He paused and smiled, added, "Can we go someplace quiet?"

Giggling, "Before someone tells us to take it to a room?" He dropped his hand to my knee. I instinctively opened my legs... that's what sluts do. Staring into his eyes. "Dan, I have something to tell you first."

A huge grin was on his face. "Presley, I think I already know. That makes me want you even more." Biting my lower lip, letting my wide eyes speak for me, Dan motioned to Gareth, the barman. In Welsh, he said, "rhoi'r tâl ar fy ystafell i!" Translated to polite English, he had said, "Put the charges on my room."

On the way up the stairway, his hand rested on my bum. Dan whispered, "Presley, on the walkabout today, I noticed the bulge in your shorts more than once." I scrunched my cheeks together, sending Dan a clear message... my bum is yours if you want it.

Our Quiet Place

My room was at the top of the stairs. Fumbling with the antique key, I pushed the door, followed closely by Dan. I stepped into the middle of the room and turned to face Dan. I spoke softly, "Dan, I will be your Clara tonight!"

He moved closer; we embraced and held me tight. My lower torso pressed against his. I sensed that he could feel my hardening bulge. He whispered, "Just be Presley. I want to experience her tonight!"

His fingers tenderly held my head as he tilted his head to the side; we kissed passionately for the first time. Our kisses lingered, our noses bumped. We grunted and groaned. I wanted to please this man... not as Darcie, but as Presley.

I slithered down his body. Squatting in front of him, I unbuckled his belt, unzipped his khakis, letting them slide down his toned legs to pool at his ankles. Dan kicked off his loafers and stepped out of his trousers.

As I moistened my lip glossed lips, I stared up into his eyes. My fingers pressed his growing erection through the thin fabric of his tight undies. Daniel excitedly yelped... I could feel his shaft swell to my touch. His eyes stayed focused on me; I could feel his legs begin to shake. With two parted fingers, I rubbed the girth of his shaft, his eyes diverted towards the high-back chair in the corner of the room.

He swiftly pulled me to my feet and led us towards the chair. Dan wiggled out of his outer shirt and undershirt, letting them drop to the floor. His chest was hairy, showing signs of being buff, but alas, age and commitment have taken their toll.

Before he sat, I unbuttoned my burgundy sweater and tossed it onto the nearby bed, revealing my firm, encased boobs. His eyes widened, and he reached out to hold me. I gently pushed him back into the chair. His eyes were affixed on my breasts until I pulled my thong down my thighs, exposing my pretty cock to him... for the first time. Dan was so excited he began to drool.

As I dropped to my knees, I twisted my tiny thong into my hair, forming a ponytail to keep my blonde hair out of my face. I reached for his briefs and tugged at the hem; his now stiff, uncut cock was fully aroused, bobbing and weaving in front of my face. I stared into his eyes... he immediately knew that his swollen cock was mine now.

Suck It As If You Own It

Sucking cock is a gift. It's a joy; not a job. Embrace it and make him feel... no, make him believe that his cock means everything to you. Daniel's cock is not massive. It's hard and pulsing. I have tasted bigger, wider, thicker, and juicier. But his throbbing will be just fine.

But at this moment only his swelling cock matters. His cock has swelled because of me... It's time to rock his world! He widens his legs, letting me bump in closer.

I moisten my tongue by running the tip along my lower lip. I, too, was excited. I was salivating... my now freed cock has also swelled. Daniel's eyes are now focused on my mouth. He groans, watching my tongue tighten.

To steady his throbbing cockhead, I gently squeeze his shaft with the palm of my hand. My fingers push back the overlapping skin... and with my darted tongue I push his precum over the nub, pressing the tiny slit open. Daniel moans. I slowly twirl my tongue along the slit... pausing, lifting, and pressing back down on his slit through slow, lazy circles along the crown.

Daniel squirms; I feel his hands on my head. He doesn't push... they momentarily rest. He finally speaks, repeatedly muttering. "Please, oh please, oh please, Presley!" With each please, I twirl my tongue.

Quietly, but sternly, I said. "Beg Daniel, beg!" I slowly slide my hand down his shaft, squeezing the base... placing my other hand on his thigh... tenderly pressing my nails into his skin. My mouth engulfs the knob. I used my lips to mouth the head... no teeth. Tilting my head, I slide my mouth and tongue down his shaft, pausing, releasing pressure, then slowly tighten my grip with my lips... pausing, then lick... pausing, then lick all the way to the base.

Daniel's moans quicken. I squeeze the base tight. I moan softly... blowing warm air... the palm of the other hand cups his balls... my fingers are at first tender, then they tighten. Daniel yelps. I flick my tongue over the base, then back up his shaft. Light pressure, my warm breath is vibrating on his stiffness... I softly moan and mumble, "Danny, you taste so good!" I pull my mouth away, steadying his throbbing cock with one hand; with the other I tighten my grip on the base.

My tongue twirls his crown again, dancing in circles, fluttering back over his tiny slit. Danny squirms; I feel a slight shiver on his thighs. My soft mouth and hard tongue are giving pleasure and torture at the same time.

His cock is now pulsating... he has no control... my mouth and fingers have complete control. My tongue dances; it teases; it twirls. Daniel squirms in the chair.... He keeps repeating, "Presley, oh gawd, oh gawd..." Glancing at his face, he closes his eyes. His face cringes... as I mix pleasure and torture at the same time.

Smiling to myself, I know this is the most unforgettable cock sucking Danny has ever experienced. My body was shaking as well, as I could feel my freed cock throbbing. She needed attention... that will be possible relatively soon.

Pausing, I pucker my lips, planting gentle kisses up and down the length of his shaft. Kissing then licking his crown once again, without warning, I engulfed his shaft with my warm mouth, sliding down his rigid rod. His tip pressed against the back of my throat. I gagged, backing away abruptly. I swiftly reinserted his shaft back into my throat. I suck the tip... feeling the tension build, I released my grip on the base.

Danny's butt squirms on the chair. He bucks upward. "Presley, I am going to explode!" That was my only warning. I instantly clamped my mouth around his crown. Danny shot his powerful load!. I gurgled as his cream filled my mouth, sucking every last drop down my throat. Danny persisted in screaming my name..."Presley, Presley, Presley... you bitch..." His body shook; I placed one hand on his thigh to steady his shaking. With the other, I held his shaft steady, so that I could lick his oozing cockhead.

Staring into Daniel's eyes, watching him blink as he opened them. He smiled; I smiled back. "God, Presley, where the fuck did you learn how to suck cock?"

Amused, I giggled, "Danny, when you have talent, you don't ever waste it!"

Extending his arms, I grabbed his hands; Danny pulled me up by his hands. I sat side-saddled on his lap. My cock was uncontrollably throbbing. I opened my legs, giving Danny complete access. She was ready to explode. Danny tenderly ran his fingers along her sculpted helmet.

Yes, I Called Him Danny

As he did, he stared into my eyes. "Presley, I love it that you call your cock, she... as she is so soft and smooth. He poked my tiny slit, squishing her juicy precum cream all over her pretty circumcised crown. He lowered his head, opening his mouth, and with the tip of his tongue he flicked the nub. He pressed his lips tightly around the pronounced ridge. Tonight, it will not take much attention to make me cream.

Tension quickly built in my balls. My naked butt twisted and wiggled on Danny's lap. His tongue twirled in circles. My hands pressed on the back of his head. I screamed, "Danny, don't stop!" I pulled on the hair on the back of his head. I lifted my butt off his lap; my orgasm was mounting. Danny's mouth engulfed the head.

I spasmed and spurted my cream deep into Danny's mouth. His mouth clenched the head. His hands grabbed my shaft, trying to control the throbbing. Remarkably, Danny was able to control the pulsating. I released my grip on his head and took several deep breaths. Danny's breathing was erratic and heavy, too. He lifted his face off my pulsing cock. I popped out, still throbbing. Danny exhaled deeply.

I slid off his lap, slipped into my bathroom, and returned with warm, wet washcloths. I wiped off Danny's cock and did the same to mine and spoke, " Danny, I am exhausted; let's cuddle on the bed." We both slid under the covers; I removed my bra, pressing my boobs into Danny's back. I prefer not sleeping alone.

It has been a long day. I know that Danny enjoyed his blow job. I am exhausted. We both fell fast asleep.

Morning Sun- There was None!

In the Fall, the weather in the Welsh countryside brings cooler temperatures and more rain. Today was no different. The sun did not burst through my window to wake me. Nor did Dan. In fact, he was missing in action. I don't know when he left.

And it was dreary outside. Cloudy, gray skies, and the rain was splattering against my window. It was a day to stay in bed... and smother your partner with kisses. Since Dan wasn't there, I dressed casually, leggings and a bulky sweater, and made my way downstairs. Hopefully, he will be waiting for me in the restaurant.

I looked in the pub first, then the restaurant. Nope, he wasn't waiting. I didn't even know what room he was in. I inquired at Reception. Gwynne was on duty. She told me that Mr. MacGregor had unexpectedly checked out early this morning. The awkward, surprised look on my face must have said it all.

Before I walked away, disappointed, she spoke. " You are Presley in Room 11, right?" I nodded. She handed me a large, bulky envelope with my name on it. She added, "Mr. MacGregor left this for you!"

"Oh!" I took the envelope to the restaurant. I laid it on the table and just stared at it. Yes, I wanted to open it... but couldn't just yet. I was having mixed emotions about yesterday... I slowly sipped my coffee.

I peeled back the envelope. Inside was a book. It was 'My Sex Drive Is Not Under Control' by Danielle MacLeod. The same one I was already reading. Clearly I don't need two copies. I opened the front cover. I set aside a smaller envelope. A handwritten note on the inside cover page of the book read. 'To Presley Blackwell-Kent. You will know who you will meet reading your novel! Signed Daniel MacGregor A. K. A. Danielle MacLeod.'

On the outside of the small envelope were the words Presley. Inside was a handwritten note that read:

'Presley! Yesterday was a glorious day! You made an older man young again. I love your spirit, your ambition, and your outlook on life in general. All packaged perfectly as one stunning woman... a woman, I might add, whose joy I had the pleasure to experience last night.

I was looking forward to another day with you. But unexpectedly, I had to return to London a day early. Family stuff. I won't bore you with the details.

If you ever need an editor for your novel 'Lost in My Femininity', you know how to reach me! Signed Danny

PS: No one has called me Danny since my UNI years. Thank you!'

I flipped the envelope open. Out popped his business card. On the back, it read.

'Pass the one you are reading to someone else. If you get a chance, you might want to read 'I Didn't Change Who I Am. I Revealed Her' by Nicole MacCarthy. Signed D.'

I laid the note back on the table. I took a few deep breaths. And yes, a tear clouded my left eye. Daniel, Dan, Danny had an impact on me. Yes, for one day, he was the father I never knew. No, not the sexual partner part. But the day spent in the countryside on the walkabout. Dinner here at the Talbot. The kind of conversation that a daughter might have had with her father. My father would be older, but I tried to picture him through Daniel's likeness. This morning was a little sad.

After I finished my Sunday breakfast of Welsh bacon & sausage, tomato, mushroom, baked beans and a poached egg, I settled in front of the roaring fire in the pub, curled up and finished Danielle's book.

Again, dinner was fabulous. I didn't eat alone. A local couple that I met in the pub invited me to join them. I learned some local lore, such as Y Talbot's rich history, which spans over 400 years, and began as a drovers' inn. None of the locals knew how many owners Y Talbot has had.

Monday was a Bank Holiday. With a five-hour journey, I left early. Once back in Camden Town, and after settling back in, I met Fiona and Lucy at Camden Blues. At first, they thought I was mad or, at the very least, disappointed. I tried to play the 'mad persona', but I wasn't very good at it.

I told them all about Daniel, and everything else I could think of. It wasn't a lost weekend. In fact, it was what I needed.

Fast Forward - six months

I got back into my routine. Working at the Design House. We were working on our seasonal collection releases... we're normally twelve weeks out, and even that can vary by season.

My escort time varies during the holiday season. On weekends, I spent more time on one of the barstools at the Red Bar inside the Grosvenor House in Mayfair. I have not seen my escort friend Karina Kristos much. I know she's still escorting. Bill, the Barman, said that she hasn't been in much. From time to time, I would run to her at Camden Blues. If it weren't for my friends with benefits, my personal love life didn't exist at all.

I even tried to squeeze in some time to write that erotic novel idea of mine. I was overwhelmed and couldn't figure out what I needed to do first. I thought about calling Daniel. I picked up my phone more than once. I never did finish dialing his number. I never pinpointed why. I guess I truly didn't need a father figure in my life. I never had one, so why start now?

Fall went into Winter, and Winter into Spring. It was a Thursday night. My arse was sitting on a bar stool at the Red Bar... sipping a classic Manhattan. Bill was the barman again tonight. I was wearing one of my best looks. A look that sells. Classy on the outside but slutty underneath. Black stockings, lace knickers, and suspenders were my style under an LBD that revealed a hint of cleavage pushed up in my mid-bust wired balconette.

Guess Who Walked In?

It was getting late. I was about ready to call it a night. Then two older gentlemen sat at the other end of the bar. I thought I recognized one. I didn't place him as a client. They were dressed in business attire. Most likely two men who had just returned from dinner, having a nightcap before heading up to their hotel rooms.

Little did I know that my evening plans would change. Bill approached the two men. He took their orders, then immediately came over to me. He spoke loud enough for them to hear, "Darcie, the gentleman standing at the end of the bar has offered to buy you a drink!" Before I could respond, Bill lowered his tone. He told his friend he thought he knew you.

I glanced down the bar... I do know the gentleman standing. He's not an escort client. It's Danny MacGregor. The Book editor I met in Tregaron at the Y Talbot. When I smiled, he smiled back. With his hands, he motioned to me, asking if they could join me. I nodded approvingly.

"Another Manhattan would be fine, Bill." To go with my cocktail, I had the classic dilemma. Bill only knows me as Darcie. Daniel only knows me as Presley.

Dan... I have to remember to call him Dan or Daniel, who gave Bill a hand signal to place their cocktails at the empty stools near me. The two gents gathered their things, and as they sat, Bill placed my Manhattan on a napkin in front of me. "Darcie, compliments of Mr. MacGregor. " Dan handed Bill his credit card.

Dan's face was now coated with bewilderment. He stopped, a little hesitant, and before he could speak, I extended my hand to his friend. "I'm Darcie Monroe."

He replied, "I'm Harold Allen. Daniel here is my editor at Motley Publications."

"Well, Harold, we have something in common. Daniel has offered to be my editor too. The last time we met, he encouraged me to finish my first draft.

Daniel, without missing a beat, leaned in, kissed me on the cheek, and added, "Good to see you again, Darcie!" With that, I knew I had to play this straight. I knew Daniel knew that I was here tonight as a hooker of some type. I could have sugar-coated it. Yes, I am an escort. I did have to decide on a cover story. I needed a better cover than just saying I work in the fashion design business. I do, but not as Darcie Monroe, and that could have other ramifications. Tonight I went with being a budding novelist.

The good news Harold did most of the talking. He was proud of his soon-to-be-released book. That's all he kept talking about. He was non-stop and, to be honest, I was getting a little bored. But I was okay with it. Somehow, some way, Harold needed to run out of energy and head to bed. Then leave Daniel and me time to talk; I had some explaining to do.

As if I had scripted it, everything fell into place. Harold's exhaustive conversation came to a halt... as if he had rammed a brick wall. He spoke directly to Daniel, "My dear friend, I am headed off to bed, giving you time to talk to your young friend, your next budding novelist!" Harold stood, shook my hand, and said. "Nice meeting you, Darcie!"

Daniel walked Harold to the lifts in the lobby. In no time, he returned. I thought it was going to be scolding time... you know, what are you doing with your life?

It Was Now Time To Come Clean

He sat down next to me and held my hand; then stared directly into my eyes. It wasn't a condescending stare. It was the genuine Daniel I had met in Wales.

"Presley, I am not here to judge, but what's this Darcie Monroe thing you have got going on?" I hesitated with my response. I was searching for the right words. Softening my voice, I quietly shrieked, if that was even possible.

"Daniel, I am a £200-an-hour escort. Yes, I do work for a fashion design house. That was not a lie. But being an escort will one day give me the independence to launch my own line!" I stayed focused on his eyes. I stopped talking. I thought I was rambling.

Bill, the barman, had discreetly moved away, giving us private space to talk.

Daniel stayed focused on me. He repeatedly kept saying, "Wow!" I could tell he was trying to process tonight, as well as our time in Wales. He started to speak, but I immediately stopped him by placing my pointed index finger over his mouth. I kept shaking my head.

"Danny, don't even go there. Your partner in Wales was Presley Blackwell-Kent. Not Darcie Monroe. And yes, the sex was terrific! Our entire time together was genuine; it was real. It was special. And I cried when you left. I was sad."

Whew... I exhaled. Then added, " Your note was so sweet. I still have it. I cherish it."

He looked intently at me. "When you got back to London, why didn't you call?"

"Daniel, believe me, I tried. Our time in Tregaron was special. I knew you weren't my person; you are not even Mr. Right Now. I never want to lead you on... to use you. You are almost old enough to be my father!" I stopped talking abruptly. "Sorry, that came out wrong. I have never met my father. And you.... " I again stopped talking. I glanced away. I was now too embarrassed to try to explain.

Daniel was still holding my hand. He blurted out, "What are you saying to me, Presley?"

I wiped away a tear that was rolling down my face. "Daniel, I want you in my life. I can't promise we will continue to be lovers. I need someone like you... No, I mean you... to be there for me when I just need to talk." I chuckled. "Sometimes I just need some fatherly type advice!"

Once I said it, we sat there in silence. Dan kept holding my hand. I turned slightly, kissed Dan on the cheek, and said, "Danny will take me home?"

He squeezed my hand. "Of course!" Dan turned to the barman. "Bill, please cash me out." Bill quickly placed Dan's tab on the bar. He paid with his credit card and tipped Bill generously.

I reached into my purse, folded a £50 note, and subtly slid the note to Bill. "Thanks, Bill, see you soon."

Dan noticed my sleight of hand, extended his arm, and helped me off the stool. We left the Red Bar with my arm cradling Dan's. He whispered, "Presley, I paid the tab; why did you pay him too?"

In a soft tone, I replied, "Bill protects me. I need to take care of him every time I am in his bar..." I stared into Dan's eyes. "Every time!"

It Was A Short Ride

My flat in Camden Town was a short ride from Mayfair. We pulled in front of my place. Dan did not turn the engine off. We sat in silence. "Dan, will you park the car and come in?" He did not immediately respond.

Turning to me, he said. "Presley, you have asked me to be there for you. If I come inside, am I your lover or your father figure?" He paused and added. "Are you Darcie or Presley? "

I took two deep breaths, exhaling them slowly and looking straight ahead. I said.

"Dan, we left Darcie sitting on the stool at the Red Bar. This is Presley talking now. Tonight, could you hold me, cuddle with me? Damn it, just be with me... if you want to." Turning my head towards him. "Danny, I am not begging you to fuck me!" I didn't wait for an answer; I jumped out of the car, ran up the front steps, quickly opened the door, and stepped inside. I leaned back against the closed door and wept.

Tears were running down my face. Gathering my composure, I eventually made my way into the kitchen. I reached for an open wine bottle and poured myself a glass. As I sipped slowly, I heard a soft knock on the door. The second knock was a little louder, then a voice: "Presley, this is Dan. If you can hear me, please open the door!"

Drying my face with a soft towel, I walked to the door and stood there for a moment. I heard an exasperated gasp from the other side. I instantly opened the door. He was still there. Dan had not walked away.

Smiling, I held out my hand. Dan grasped it. With a pronounced booty wiggle, I led Danny upstairs to my bedroom.

To be continued!

Nikki Speaks

People mostly read the stories on Lit for the sex. Hopefully, there was enough sex in this story to whet your appetite, and the ending took an unexpected twist. Personally, I think it's the right one. You will read about their time upstairs... soon. I promise. I hope she... we didn't disappoint. Daniel, Dan, Danny MacGregor has remained in her life.

The original working title was 'I Love To Seduce Boys... Older Men Too!'. I changed my mind after submitting the story. The title was not right. So, I changed the title and resubmitted the story. I altered my normal process. Once I have the plot developed in my head and put it to paper, I set up a working title for the story. That's what I did here. Then I changed the ending. The original title did not work. In fact, it was misleading.

Did you need to know this? Not really, but it fits the main character. Presley is still trying to figure out what she needs in her life. I kept the story in the Penthouse Pets Escorts series. Transgender is the story category.

The story is longer than my normal submissions. Thank you for reading this far.

As always, your comments and feedback are essential. I sincerely hope you are enjoying Nikki's Kinky Adventures. Please take a few moments to share your thoughts in the comments section. I always want to improve my stories.

This story has been posted to Literotica. com with the original author's full knowledge under my pen name, NikkijMaadison. No part of this story may be reprinted in any other format or on any other website without the express written consent of the original author. You may discover mistakes. That will happen.

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