Ashton: The Escort (Mature)

© 2013 KIMBER LEE Ashton: The Escort (Mature)

A/N: This is sort of a prequel/tie-in to The Escort but in Ashton’s point of view (you don’t have to have read The Escort though). It’s just a one-shot and something fun I wanted to do (and other people wanted me to do) so I hope you enjoy it and still love Ashy, even though he’s a total perve. Enjoy! Xo

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When Genevieve Brown asked me to make her feel good, I would never in a million years have thought that that was code for “Let me suck your dick, Ash”.

My sudden inability to formulate a cohesive sentence had nothing to do with the fact that I wasn’t one of Eden’s “piece-of-meat” escorts – the half of the agency that all but wh0red themselves out to women for money – therefore should have taken offence to Genevieve’s intimation that I would be absolutely okay with her wrapping her hot-pink Botoxed lips around my cock.

No, my speechlessness had been brought on by the stark reality that I was sitting in my Lexus on a Friday night after accompanying a client to a fancy dinner for a hefty sum of cash – and said client had to be about eighty-five-years old (eighty, if I was being kind) – and she had just made the universal cock-sucking motion with her right hand and mouth.

There was no way in fucking hell I was letting Betty White’s stunt double give me a blowjob.

Not for all the money in England.

“Well, Ash?” Genevieve prompted, brushing one wrinkled hand against my arm. I wasn’t exactly ageist but the sight of her hand on me in such a suggestive manner made me taste bile. I wasn’t proud of being a dickhead at that moment but I just couldn’t help it.

No client of mine had ever come onto me, especially in such a crass manner. I was the first to admit that I wasn’t the world’s most stand-up guy – not by a long shot – but when I was Ash, I was as close as could be.

Ash was a caring, smooth talker. He knew how to make a woman feel like the best thing since Playboy; knew how to make her feel like the centre of his universe, even if it was for one evening and she was paying for it.

Because “Ash” was sincere. He wanted to see a plain, shy woman light up when he told her she looked beautiful. Wanted to listen when she confessed that she was still a virgin and being out with him – platonically – was helping her get out of her shell. Wanted to be a rich old lady’s date to some ritzy dinner party and watch her pruned face transform with joy when he made her laugh the entire night with his less-than-classy antics.

“Ashton” could’ve been “Ash”, except he was more casual. They both worshipped women but “Ashton” knew he couldn’t commit to one. Never would.

Only dìcks refer to themselves in third person, my conscience was quick to inform me.