Reinier* = René
My birthday! And so I’m at the confectioner’s at half past eight in the morning to get some pastries. Of course Dani won’t take. I cut myself a nice thick piece of cake, after all my birthday is only once a year. “I can’t imagine turning 30″, sighs Dani. I want to hit her, because she knows very well that my thirtieth birthday was already three years ago. I say nothing and take a big bite of cake. “That you dare to”, Dani continues teasingly. “At your age, of course, everything will hang on your hips.”
I nudge the saucer, knocking the rest of my pie onto her lap. Dani begins to scream. “My new dress! Did you do that on purpose?” I shake my head and start brushing vigorously, only making the stain bigger. Then Dani starts whining if I’m throwing a party. Like I’d invite her over.
“No”, I say. “This weekend I’m going out for dinner with my mom, sister and best friend. And tonight I’m going to do something fun with a friend.” I don’t dare say “my friend”. Of course Dani knows that Tom has passed away and I don’t feel like explaining to her that Mark is my married lover. I’ve seen her look at Mark just a little too eagerly for that..
The day creeps by until it’s finally 5:30 AM and I get on my bike to the Hilton. I’m nervous. Mark had said that I would cross all my sexual boundaries. What would he mean? Something SM-esque? He hadn’t ordered me to put on special clothes or anything. I have put on my sexiest lingerie set. It’s a bit too small. My breasts are bulging. Well, most of the time Mark takes it off right away anyway. But I really must lose weight.
My phone beeps. “Go straight upstairs and knock on room 304.” I get into the elevator. My cheeks are bright red and my heart is beating like a madman. What awaits me? Then I am there. I knock. The door opens. In the doorway stands an unfamiliar man, quite short, with dark hair and dark eyes. I guess he’s about 40 years old. He’s tanned and muscular, wearing nothing but a white towel on his hips. Who is this?
“Hi”, I say hesitantly. “I’m afraid I’ve ended up in the wrong room.” But the man shakes my hand and invites me to continue. “Hi, I’m Reinier*. Also known as Gigolo Reinier. I am your birthday present. Congratulations! Do you fancy a glass of champagne?” But I back away. Who is this?
“You may be wondering where Mark is,” he continues. “You’ll notice that naturally. Shall I just start with a nice massage? You don’t have to do a thing you don’t feel like. Just take your clothes off and lie down on the bed. If you don’t want me to continue, just say ‘stop.'” I hesitate, but do as he says anyway. I take off my dress, tights and pumps and lie on my stomach. He pours some oil into his hand and begins to massage. Slowly he massages my neck and my shoulders. “You’re so tense,” he says. “I think you suffer from stress a lot. Just surrender to me a little.” Then he massages my feet, calves and upper legs.
Then he stops. “Can I touch your butt?” When I nod in agreement, he expertly massages my buttocks. He doesn’t skip a spot. It feels wonderful. Is this guy a physiotherapist or something? He then asks me to turn around. Of course I do. I’m incredibly excited and just want to feel more of him on and inside of me. I moan. And if he asks if I want to close my eyes, of course I immediately do so. Still, he ties a scarf over my eyes to make sure I really can’t see anything.
His fingers slide down my stomach, down to my hips and finally between my legs. He slowly circles his fingers over my clitoris before finally inserting them into me. Then he pulls his hand away and I let out a longing yelp. “Please don’t stop!”
He pushes my wrists above my head with one hand, and starts fingering me with the other. I don’t think I’ve known this man for more than twenty minutes. He’s done this with hundreds of other women. It’s his job and I only want more of him. And that’s what I tell him. I also tell him to fuck me as soon as possible because otherwise I can’t keep it anymore.
But he refuses. He explains that this is not part of the agreements he made with his ‘client’, and that makes me furious. My anger and the professional way he plays my clitoris make me cum really nice. I moan and scream, trying to pull him on top of me. “Kiss me, fuck me, drive me crazy”, I sigh. “You’re the best lover I’ve ever had. I want you. I want you NOW!”
He does not say anything. “I have nothing to do with your stupid assignment”, I continue. “He’s choosing for his wife again. I’ll pay you double if you continue now. Please?”
Then I pull the scarf from my eyes in the hope that Reinier is listening when I can look at him. But then I catch the icy stare of Mark, who is sitting on a chair in the corner of the room. Huh? Where does he come from all of a sudden? And…how long has he been in there?
Slowly the situation dawns on me. I just had my best orgasm ever from Gigolo Reinier, as a present from my lover Mark, who is now sitting in the corner of the room, looking angry. I don’t get it. Isn’t this what he wanted? So what exactly is he mad about? Mark gets up and Reinier gets dressed. “I think I’ll just leave you alone”, he says and then he’s gone.
I sit up in bed with the sheets over me and express my surprise aloud once more. Mark still looks sullen. “I thought it would be exciting to see you with another man”, he said. “But I hope you understand that it’s not exactly fun to hear you scream that he’s the best lover you’ve ever had. You wouldn’t like it if I said that to another woman in front of you.”
”Mark, the man is an escort. He gets paid to make women cum. He has slept with hundreds, maybe thousands of women. Of course he’s good! I also think I’m pretty good at sex, but I’m sure there are prostitutes who can satisfy you even better than me. That makes sense, doesn’t it?”
”Okay”, he says. “But I had imagined this evening very differently. Let’s go and drink that bottle of champagne now, because otherwise it will be lukewarm and that’s a shame.” We both have to laugh and in the end we just have great sex together. Moreover, we fall asleep in each other’s arms and wake up together the next morning. Too bad I have to work, I would have preferred to stay in that bed with him all weekend.
Mark doesn’t want to stop by the breakfast buffet because he’s afraid of meeting people he knows. Also, as usual, he doesn’t want us to leave the hotel room together. I think it’s annoying. ,”You have left Josien now, haven’t you? So why are you so sneaky? But he starts to sputter that they are not officially separated and that they are ‘investigating’ whether their marriage still has a chance of success. I’m so fed up with it, I walk away without saying anything.
Sunday, it’s raining. Again. A long, empty day stretches out before me. I had a very pleasant evening with Fleur, my mother and my sister Frederique, with great food. I check my Instagram on how many likes my photos have and I’m happy with the result. And then I can’t help but scroll to Josien’s page.
Normally it only shows arty food photos, but now I’m seeing soggy photos of the whole family on the hockey field. I’m instantly jealous. Why am I only good enough for bed anyway?
I consider giving a reaction along the lines of, ‘I also had a great time with Mark on Thursday evening’, but I don’t dare. Maybe I should find a new boyfriend myself. Shall I make a profile on a dating site? Or Tinder? Ugh, I really don’t feel like dating again at all. All of a sudden I miss Tom terribly. He was always so good to me. It’s so unfair he’s dead now.
And then I get a hunch and I google for Gigolo Reinier and find his site in the blink of an eye. I read other women’s exultant experiences. That his specialty are squirting orgasms. I’ve never experienced that. The costs are actually quite reasonable, €300,- for three hours or more. Three hours! I seldom spend that long in bed with Mark. Usually he has to go to his wife immediately after the deed.
I liked and enjoyed him so much that I actually feel like spending the whole evening with him and going all the way with him. I think it would be great to have sex with a man who’s only concern is me. Who cares only about my pleasure and not his own. I believe I deserve that.
I email Reinier and describe who I am and that I want to finish what we started on Thursday. Within an hour I received an email back. He writes that he would really like to meet, but that my boyfriend will probably not like that? Like he’s not into that! I saw on his site that he does it with married women as well..
I ask him if he can come over tonight, and to my delight he has time. I’m so excited! All of a sudden I’m busy: I have to shave, epilate and wax. Once again I notice that I have gained weight, but I don’t care. After all, I pay Reinier for his services, he just has to accept me as I am.
An hour before his arrival, I’m ready. And I’m nervous. What is he going to do to me? Then I hear a beep. Mark. He wants to make it up to me. Is it an idea that he will come over tonight?
I am startled. What do I do now? Have Mark come and cancel Reinier? Or should I tell Mark I can’t? Shit, I can’t choose…