I had just returned to my hotel room in Cincinnati after enjoying a large meal in the establishment’s upscale restaurant. After all, I had been instructed by my boss, Terry Bridgeman, to splurge on my expenses that day because it was my 42nd birthday.
I had been a loyal and valuable employee for 13 years, so Terry was happy to pay for a huge steak dinner with all the trimmings so I could celebrate the occasion properly, even if I was alone. I happily shelled out nearly $100 for the extravagant meal knowing that I would be fully reimbursed when I returned to our head office in Vermont in a couple of days. Cincinnati was a frequent place I visited—often four or five times a year—to see how things were going at that region’s bottling plant. As our company’s resident efficiency expert, I had the knack to see where things could be improved along the production line. It was just one of four such factories, so I was often on the road for business purposes.
Fully satiated by that excellent evening meal, I ascended to my room on the fourth floor. I still can recall the number: It was 426. It was just past 8 p.m. I had no great plans for the rest of the night. I’d likely find something to watch on TV, perhaps a baseball game. After all, it was the end of July, and MLB pretty much had a monopoly on the American sports scene during the summer. I had just concluded brushing and flossing my teeth in the bathroom when there was a loud series of knocks on my door.
I looked through the peephole and saw a tall man standing alongside a petite young woman. I did not know either one of them, which was not surprising because I knew no one in Cincinnati except for the small group of supervisors at the bottling plant.
I opened the door slightly. The man asked me in a cheerful voice, “Are you the lucky birthday boy?”
I replied, “Well, yes, it is my birthday today, but I don’t know how lucky I am.”
“You are a very lucky man, sir,” he said. “A special someone sent you an expensive birthday present. Here she is.” I opened the door wider to see whom he was referring to.
He continued, “Her name is Daisy. She is 20 years old. She was hired to come to your room to please you all night with the full ‘girlfriend treatment.’ All expenses have been covered; you need to pay nothing. I will return at 8 a.m. to pick her up. Enjoy yourself!” He handed me a glossy business card that said, “All-Star Escorts, specializing in all-night ‘girlfriend service’. Jonathan Kay, Agent.” A phone number was printed in large type in red ink.
I did not have a chance to say another word to him. He left Daisy at my doorstep and headed down the hallway to the elevator.
To say I was dumbfounded would be a huge understatement. I was quite satisfied by the steak dinner that Terry was paying for. Hooker service, from an upscale agency no less, was something I had not expected at all. I guess I was a highly valuable employee! There was no doubt that I’d be writing Terry a very sincere thank-you letter.
Daisy was quite a fetching example of young femininity. Dressed in a yellow blouse and a pleated black skirt, she had some sort of Asian ancestry. Her English was perfect and she had no discernable accent, so I assumed Daisy was a local girl despite her exotic appearance. She was a well-built stunner, no taller than 5’4”. Although assuming the ages of Asian women was often a guessing game that I was poor at, I assumed Daisy was indeed about 20 years old, as advertised by the enterprising Mr. Kay.
“Hello, lucky birthday boy!” Daisy greeted me warmly as she stepped inside my room. I quickly shut the door behind her, absolutely not wanting to be seen by my hotel room neighbors—which, in retrospect, was a silly concern. I didn’t know them; they didn’t know me.
This was all a new experience for me. I had never had a dalliance with a professional sex worker in my entire life. All I knew about prostitution is what I saw in movies and TV programs and from a few steamy paperback novels that I had lustfully read in my youth. Experiencing the thrills of a so-called ‘escort’ in person was going to be a new adventure. Despite no advance warning, I was looking forward to it—thanks to the lovely Daisy. I didn’t want to make any errors in protocol, and I wanted to know what I was about to receive, so I asked her.
“Hello, Daisy!” I said with a huge smile on my face. “You are certainly a pretty young thing and a terrific surprise for me! Please tell me all about this ‘girlfriend experience.’ What can I expect from you tonight?”
Without any hesitation, Daisy replied. “Someone has generously paid for you to receive me as your girlfriend tonight. Think of me as a very compliant girlfriend,” she strongly stressed the adjective and then continued. “Whatever you want to do with me, I’ll do it in a very loving fashion. Some clients like to begin with romance—cuddling and kissing and so forth—before having sex with me. Others just want sex, and nothing but sex, all night long. Either is okay with me. I am here tonight to please you to the best of my ability! The only rule is that you wear a condom for any sort of sexual penetration. Other than that...”
Daisy did not complete that last sentence. She did not need to finish it. I got the picture quite clearly without any further elaboration. Daisy had already begun her sexy role-playing assignment by affectionately enveloping me in her arms. As I was about 10 inches taller than she was, her head rested just below my chin.
I liked the idea of romancing this beauty before getting down to some serious screwing. I sat on the end of my bed. Daisy positioned herself on my lap. She ran her fingers through my hair. (Luckily, I still possessed a full head of thick follicles for Daisy’s enjoyment. Many of my friends did not!) Then Daisy gave me one of the greatest kisses I had ever received in my 42-year life. She put a lot of energy and passion into it. It was just an act, of course—but wow!
“Daisy,” I said to her, “I’d be a happy man just kissing you for hours on end.”
“No, you wouldn’t! Not if you’re a normal male!” she insisted. This girl had a sense of humor, too!
Nevertheless, we did spend about ten minutes kissing and cuddling, and activities that I used to do with Beth Tyler, my sixth-grade girlfriend whenever one of us visited the other’s house after school. Daisy was far better at it than Beth ever was on her most enthusiastic and promiscuous day. Eventually, my hands began to wander until they were cupping her shapely and sexy breasts which were still completely concealed by her pretty yellow blouse and brassiere.
“See, I told you so!” Daisy said. Then she unbuttoned her blouse to reveal a lacy bra that lifted her assets to make them even more desirable to males. I helpfully assisted her in removing that undergarment.
“Let’s keep on smooching, Daisy, ” I suggested. “I’ll remove my shirt. I want the sensation of kissing you while your lovely breasts are pressed against my chest. That would be so sexy!”
Daisy shrugged and said, “Hey, to each his own!” and helped me remove my necktie and unbutton my dress shirt.
“Nice hairy chest!” my topless companion declared. “I think hairy chests are very manly.”
“You have an appealing chest yourself, Daisy,” I joked. “Those things are so attractive that I’m going to give your jugs a quick feel before we continue our kissing.” I did. After the short grope I no longer wanted to kiss as much. I wanted to spend more time enjoying Daisy’s natural gifts.
Still, our kissing was wonderfully arousing. I loved the feel of Daisy’s 20-year-old torso pinned against mine. Being the pro that she was, Daisy rubbed her body slowly up and down as we had our lips locked, a feat that is more difficult than it sounds.
Daisy resumed her role as an affectionate girlfriend by kissing my cheeks, neck, and my torso down to my navel. With my trousers still on, my erection was becoming somewhat uncomfortable. I lifted Daisy off my lap just long enough to remove every article of clothing below my waistline. Then I picked her up, set her back onto my lap, and continued kissing her romantically. Then, like any typical male would, I started to explore her boobs.
They were lovely toys for boys of all ages—especially those males 12 and older. Daisy was busty for someone who had Asian ancestry, so I asked her about it while I amused myself by fondling her superb nipples.
“I am half French and half Laotian, ” she informed me. “It’s an unusual combination,” she admitted.
“It’s a damn shame there aren’t millions of girls who look like you, Daisy. The males of this planet would be ecstatic,” I replied.
“Well, Birthday Boy, that may have been the nicest compliment I’ve ever received in my life. Let me reward you for it.”
Daisy slowly slithered off my lap, descended to her knees, and gave me a world-class blowjob like none I had ever received before. She had the deftest touch with both her hands and her tongue. When Daisy began stimulating my testicles with her hand while licking my shaft from bottom to top as if it were a popsicle, I lost control. I ejaculated strongly. Much of my semen fell back onto my lap, but a small percentage struck daisy on her cheek. I promptly apologized to Daisy for my utter lack of self-control.
“Oh, I’m so sorry about that,” I told her honestly. “I didn’t mean to come right then, much less come on your face!”
Daisy waved her hand at me dismissively. “Birthday Boy, ” she said, “I take that as a compliment. Having a gentleman come on my face unexpectedly tells me I’m doing a good job pleasing him.” Then she asked me a totally needless question: “Am I pleasing you tonight, Birthday Boy? I hope so. That’s why I’m here.”
I didn’t answer in words. I lifted Daisy back onto my slightly sticky lap and resumed kissing her with great gusto. I didn’t care that she still had a bit of my cum decorating her left cheek. After a few extended minutes of romance, I said to her, “A good girlfriend would be completely nude by now. I haven’t had the pleasure of even seeing your pussy yet, Daisy. I bet it’s spectacular.”
“You’re right!” Daisy agreed. “How silly of me to forget to disrobe completely!” She quickly rectified the situation by slipping out of her skirt, panties and shoes. Her panties were a cute shade of sky blue and were decorated with white dots by the dozen. (I made a mental note to ask for them as a souvenir of the occasion once our sexual adventures were over.) Just as I assumed she would, Daisy did have a pretty vagina! She had shaved it.
“Come join me in this big bed, girlfriend!” I instructed her. “Let’s cuddle until my dick is ready for cum shot number two.” That’s precisely what we did. I sucked on Daisy’s tits and fondled her pussy until it was noticeably moist. Daisy occupied herself my stimulating by penis until it was ready to be put to its best and most natural use.
“Ride me, Daisy!” I told her.
Those three words were the signal for Daisy to get a condom from her purse, slide it skillfully onto my erect phallus, and mount me cowgirl-style. Her pussy was fabulous, tighter than I expected for someone as worldly as my bedmate obviously was. I placed my hands lovingly on her hips to guide her up and down.
Daisy was enjoying the ride, too. “Happy birthday to you...and happy fucking for me!” she said almost in a singsong. I could really get to like bedding this amusing, sexy girl! I was not especially a well-endowed male, but I was surprised that I was able to go balls deep inside of the petite Daisy without her experiencing some degree of difficulty. When Daisy began to augment her fucking with gyrating, I was helpless. Within a few seconds I fired another load of warm jism. This time, of course, the condom trapped it all. I figured it had been about 20 years since I had last ejaculated twice in the same sexual romp with a bedmate.
Daisy proved she was the ultimate pro by dismounting me, removing my used condom, and pouring the semen onto her breasts. That was something I had never seen done before. Most of my sex partners since the age of 13 would have likely been repulsed if I had suggested that sexual denouement. Daisy reveled in it, however, even to the point of placing a small amount of my cum on her tongue and sexily swallowing it.
“A tasty tidbit!” she declared with a grin.
I sincerely wished I was 22 years old again, and not 42, because I wanted to continue fucking this wonderful birthday present until dawn’s early light. I told her, “Daisy, you’ve pretty much exhausted me. I’m not as young as I once was, sadly. Let’s just have a shower together, get into bed, cuddle together, and fall asleep in each other’s arms. If I want another fuck in the middle of the night, I’ll just wake you up.”
That’s what we did. Lathering Daisy was great fun, especially in her nether regions. I did muster enough energy to attain a slightly reduced erection so I could give her a soapy and sexy titty fuck. I did not come close to firing a third sperm blast—as least not yet.
We climbed into bed together, still nude of course. I recall licking Daisy’s enticing boobs a few more times while she caressed my penis, and then falling asleep. I awoke at about 2:30 a.m., realizing I had an unbelievably sexy young woman clinging to me in bed. That did not occur too often in my life. My equipment was back at full alert, so I gently woke Daisy and told her I wanted to fuck again.
“Well, of course you do!” she stated between yawns. “Birthday Boy, you’re a healthy male with normal sexual desires. I’d be disappointed if you didn’t want to fuck me again. Let me get another condom from my purse—and let’s get at it.”
This time I opted for doggie-style penetration. Daisy was so small in stature that I could fuck her from behind and caress her tits simultaneously. I enjoyed the fuck thoroughly. It took me less than 10 minutes to ejaculate again. I took a cue from Daisy. I pulled off my condom and let my semen slowly ooze out of it and fall between her tits.
“You just should have dumped the entire load into my mouth for me to swallow, Birthday Boy,” she said to me, albeit a little bit too late. “Wouldn’t that have been a fun and sexy thing to do? Maybe you have another cum shot inside you and we can still do that.”
“No, sadly I’m completely out of ammo, I’m afraid, Daisy,” I told her. “I’m showing my age. I’m 42 years and one day old, now. It’s past midnight.”
I guess I can’t call you Birthday Boy anymore,” she noted with a fake scowl. “I’ll just call you by your real name, Gary Phillips.”
I was perplexed. “That’s not my name,” I told her. “Why did you think Gary Phillips was my name? My last name is Phelps. I’m Bernard Phelps. My friends call me Bernie.”
“I could have sworn that’s what was written on my assignment card for tonight,” Daisy said. “Let me get up and check it.”
“I was right!” she said. “Look at this.” Sure enough, the card said her client’s name for that night was Gary Phillips who was registered at the Center Plaza Hotel in Cincinnati--the same hotel where I was staying.
I had a hunch as to what had happened, so I asked this question: “When your boss brought you to the hotel tonight, did you two go to the front desk when you arrived to learn what my room number was?”.
“I work here frequently,” Daisy responded. “The desk clerk isn’t supposed to tell strangers who is registered in which room, but he makes an exception for my clients. He knows why I’m here.”
I laughed and said, “Daisy, my dear, I have a strong inkling that you have bedded the wrong guy. I think the desk clerk misheard you or your boss. The names Phillips and Phelps sound reasonably alike. The desk clerk’s first language isn’t English, so he made a terrible, wonderful, horrible, delightful error that benefitted me when he directed you to room 426 by mistake. Wow! What an incredible coincidence it was! By pure chance, this hapless Phillips fellow and I were both celebrating our birthdays yesterday. By mistake, I got his surprise birthday gift—a superb prostitute!”
I broke out into hearty laughter. So did Daisy. After about a minute I asked her, “What are you going to do about this?”
“Nothing!” she said quickly. “I followed Mr. Kay to your room in good faith. I was instructed to give you the full girlfriend treatment—and I did. It wasn’t my mistake. I’ll get paid—a lot—regardless of whether I gave the treatment to you or to Mr. Phillips. I did my job to the best of my ability.”
I wholeheartedly concurred. “You certainly did give me the full girlfriend treatment—and I will never forget how great it was, even if I live to be 100 years old! You are one terrific bedmate, Daisy—if that’s your real name.”
“It isn’t,” she said, “and I don’t intend on telling you what my real name is. Most prostitutes have working names. We generally don’t use our legal names while we work.”
“Your boss may have made a monumental and costly error tonight, but he was absolutely right about one thing,” I told Daisy.
“What’s that?” she curiously asked me.
“I certainly was a lucky birthday boy yesterday when you arrived on my doorstep to give me the full girlfriend treatment. It was fabulous!”
When she was picked up by Mr. Kay at 8 a.m., Daisy was wearing no panties. As I requested, she had left them for me as a wonderful souvenir of what was truly a chance encounter.