He reached me and his masculine scent filled my nostrils and it was like a drug that paralyzed me even more than I already was. I wasn't thinking with my head anymore; no, I was thinking with my lady parts and they were craving his fingers so badly that it hurt. Malcolm stood behind my chair and gently placed his surprisingly soft hands on my shoulders and began to massage them with so much expertise, you'd think he was a masseur.
He massaged me more intently and let his hands slide down my neck, causing his fingers to brush against the top of my breasts. I was so hot for him that my nipples were threatening to burst out of my tight dress. He brought his mouth to my left ear and his hot breath tingled with such an erotic sensation that a moan escaped my pressed lips.
"I want you to please me and I want to please you as well," He whispered underneath his breath, "Would you like that?"
Before I could answer, he spun my seat around so we would be facing ourselves. I still just sat there, unable to move and to be honest, I didn't want to.
"Would you like me to please you, Cherilyn?" He asked again.
I so badly wanted to say Yes but the word just couldn't leave my tightened lips so I nodded at the question. He smiled when he got my response and he bent down in front of me. He placed his hands on my thighs, against my dress so I couldn't feel his hands on my skin yet, and they began to drift from the fabric of my dress to the skin of my lap. Those soft fingers felt like magic and I was already soaking wet.
He took one hand and moved it around my thigh and within the open bottom of my dress. While he did this, he never once broke eye contact; it was almost like his eyes were the reason I couldn't move, the reason I couldn't breathe, the reason I didn't want to leave, the bait that had me drowning and the stimulant that her my libido rising.
My throat was so parched and dry but there was nothing dry about the kitty between my legs. His hand began to slide up this time, slowly approaching my throbbing vagina, feeling with anticipation and insatiable need to feel him touch me down there. Just as his fingers were about to make contact, I heard his voice echoing in my head and I drifted out of my horny mind, back into reality.
"Did you hear me, Miss Cherilyn?" Malcolm asked from the other side of the table.
"What?" I asked as I snapped out of my daydream, "What?" I asked again, unsure of what he had said.
"I asked you if you didn't have a problem with that," He said but I was still lost.
"A problem with what?"
"Being my escort," He said.
Escort? What did he mean by that? I needed more information and I didn't want him to realize that I had not been paying attention this entire time because I was daydreaming about his fingers in my pussy so I came up with a way to spin the conversation.
"What else does being your escort entail?" I asked and waited for him to provide more details.
"Well, I'm going to be in New York for about seven months and as my escort, your job is to accompany me to several events as my date. I'll be attending several galas, fundraisers, posh parties and things of that nature and you'll come with me to them. Having a beautiful woman like you in my arms at these events will be good for my public image and it will induce a certain feel about me in the eyes and minds of my associates,"
That was it? That was what he wanted from me? A private date to accompany him to galas? For some reason, I was a little disappointed to hear him say it but I was also relieved. He may have made his intentions clear, but I was a smart girl and I knew there had to be certain terms and conditions concerning this proposition and I demanded to know.
"What's the catch?" I asked.
"No catch, Miss Cherilyn,"
"My name is Cherry," My hostile tone returned with full force.
I needed to regain the power I had in this business meeting; power that his sexual magnetism was taking away from me. The only way to do that was to be bold and abrasive...So, I stated my preferred name sternly.