Veronica Hart looked at her own reflection smiling back at her from the full-length mirror propped lazily against the wall. Her long brown locks pulled back into a casual messy bun with tendrils falling loose around her face.
Her big blue eyes, framed by long dark lashes, sparkled with contentment. Her fitted dress hugged her body in a pleasing embrace and her heels added a final touch.
Happy with her appearance she grabbed her coat and bag as she headed out to a 10am appointment with Miranda, her interior designer at Harts.
Harts was Veronica’s pride and joy and was almost ready for the inauguration. This project had been in the pipeline for 11 years. What seemed like a very classy gentleman’s clothing store was in-fact much more than met the eye.
Miranda Young was already there, waiting for her on the doorstep. Today for the first time she was with empty arms. Usually she would be piled high with swabs of fabrics and paint colour charts. Now the end was in sight, the work was complete and just the last few matters needed attending to before the grand opening in two months time.
Veronica greeted Miranda with a kiss on the cheek and raised the electric shutters on the front of the store, allowing them to step inside before once again bringing them back down.
The store was big and spacious and elegantly designed. Every top brand in quality suits lined the aisles. The most incredible collection of silk ties from around the world added the perfect splash of colour along one wall. There were shirts for every and any occasion on one side and every accessory you could think of on the other. This was a store for the rich and wealthy.
This was also an exclusive club for ladies only.
Lizzie hadn’t had an easy life. Her mother a whore and her father, well! He could have been one of so many faces. She had run away from home when her mother’s work had started inflicting upon her at the tender age of thirteen. Her solitary journey abruptly ended two months later when she had fallen for a young man who promptly forced her to work on the streets for him.
Upon turning 18 Lizzie decided that if she were to whore her body for money then the money should be hers. She disappeared into the night leaving her pimp none the wiser and one girl less.
Over the course of the next three years Lizzie Wilson changed her name by deed poll and became Veronica Hart, and Veronica became one the highest paid escort girls in the country. By the age of 22 she had mapped out her future and by age 33 she had finally realised her dream.
Yes she had spent half her life as a whore but only to get where she now was. She had saved every penny she’d earned, living like a pauper to enable her dreams. So many of those girls would be on the streets their entire life with nothing to show for it. Most of them only worked to pay for their next fix. Many of them would be dead before they reached 40, but not her.
She had always wondered why there wasn’t a male alternative to hookers for women. How come only men got to get laid, what about all the women out there who wanted sex?
This thought had haunted Veronica for years and she had been determined to change that, and now here she was.
Standing in Harts, in London’s swanky SoHo district, Veronica felt like she had finally made it. She felt accomplished and proud of how far she had come on the back of the shitty hand of cards that life had ungraciously dealt her.
Harts had been acquired through one of her very wealthy ex-clients; alarm bells would’ve rung if she’d turned up as the buyer. She’d have the tax people looking into her history wanting to know where the money came from. Fortunately for her she had some very influential friends in high places and everything had been taken care of accordingly.
“Right,” Miranda said breaking her thoughts. “Let’s go upstairs and sort out the last few details on the fantasy chambers.”
Veronica’s face lit up like a Christmas tree at the mention of the upstairs. That’s where her dreams were about to come true. That is where she planned on making a lot of money. The whole floor below was just a façade, masking the real business upstairs.
“We need to go through your fantasy list and just check we have all the props you wanted.” Miranda mumbled as they stepped into the elevator.
“Did the beds arrive?” Veronica enquired.
“Yes, yes, all of them 2 days ago. They are all in place and set up. I can’t wait for you to see,” Miranda gushed excitedly.
Veronica’s smile widened. “We actually did it, didn’t we?”
“You did it Ronnie, I just followed your orders, the credit is all yours.”
“Miranda, you brought my dreams to life, you’ve guarded my secrets, I could never have done it without you, thank you.” Veronica reached out and hugged her friend.
The elevator doors opened exposing the top floor, a nondescript reception area and what looked like a couple of offices. This was all for show of course and would be used for the accounting department of the shop downstairs. To one side of the reception was a huge door with ‘Restricted Area – Staff Only’ in big red letters.
Behind the door lay Veronica’s dreams and her future. This would be the first exclusive female only fantasy wonderland. Here women would get to live out their sexual fantasies, whatever they may consist of.
The fresh smell of paint, wood and carpet still filled the air and it excited her. It all excited her. Her dream was only weeks away from becoming reality. Lizzie, the poor little girl of a whore in Manchester was now a long forgotten memory.
Miranda was excited to show Veronica the staged rooms. This had to be some of her best work yet and certainly her most challenging.
Twelve rooms perfectly set to be staged for any fantasy that might arise. Miranda had bought the entire prop department of an old run down theatre at auction and had had to rent a huge warehouse outside the city to store it all.
Veronica had already received her first years worth of fantasy requests. Miranda obviously needed time to set up each and every individual fantasy, so a minimum of 4 weeks was allowed for each one to be personally created.
“OK, are you ready?” Miranda almost squealed with excitement. “Come on, let me show you what I have done in your absence,” she said guiding her towards the prohibited area.
Veronica wandered from one room to the other in total awe of what Miranda had achieved. It was perfect right down to every single last detail.
Room one – The Yellow Room, was staged as an American saloon bar. The lady in question wanted to be swept off her feet by a cowboy in a Wild West environment. The room looked incredible, it really was like walking into the Old West. The period costumes had been found in the right sizes and were hanging from the doorway. You really could be fooled into thinking you had just walked into Pinewood Studios.
Room two – The Blue Room, was a bedroom chamber from Victorian times. A large oak four-poster bed dominated the room. It was like walking straight into the past. This lady wanted to be surprised by a burglar while sitting before her night table preparing for bed. It looked amazing and again the costumes hung in the doorway complete with Victorian wig and corsets.
Room three – The Gold Room, was a library. The room consisted of rows upon rows, and shelf upon shelf of literature. Books had been flown in from around the world, from Shakespeare to Tolstoy. It was a perfect library/study. This lady wanted stimulating conversation before an open fire. She wanted an intelligent man she could debate with and discuss books and politics.
Women were indeed strange creatures. Their fantasies were wild and wonderful and Veronica prided herself in putting them together in the most authentic mind blowing way.
Room Four – The Red Room, was a replica of Christian Grey’s red room. It was a highly requested fantasy since the success of the film. This room would be a permanent fixture considering the high demand for this kind of fantasy. She had been researching for 3 years to gather all this information. The room was identical to the set on the film, right down to the contents of the drawers. This fantasy spoke for itself.
She had thought of everything and missed nothing. This was all going to come together perfectly. Miranda’s eye to detail had exceeded even her own expectations.
Downstairs under the guise of buying a suit for their husband or partner, exclusive members could view their chosen garments in catwalk style. They would choose 3 or 4 suits and take them to the counter and ask for them to be modelled.
Then, after showing their identity bracelet, they’d proceed into the viewing room where a catwalk holds centre stage, and Voila!! The models will start modelling the chosen attire.
Of course this was so the ladies could choose the men they wanted to live out their fantasy with. Exclusive members had already received the signature gold bracelet with a single hanging heart engraved with an H. She had 40 members already signed up for the first year.
There was a hefty annual fee of £50.000. This would give access to the upstairs once a month; any extras would have to be paid additionally.
Today she would be interviewing one of the last three male positions. Twelve men had already been carefully selected over the last 12 months. They had to be intelligent, discreet, handsome, willing to play out a role and obviously be exceptionally good in bed.
It was actually a lot harder than she had envisaged, finding men that qualified in all departments. Hence it had taken so long to find the most perfect candidates. They needed to range in age and heights and colourings to fit as many fantasies as possible. Some needed to speak a foreign language, some needed to be good at accents. These men needed to be the best actors she could find.
Each of them needed to sign a ‘Non Disclosure Agreement’, to make sure her clientele remained totally anonymous. Her clients would consist of some of the wealthiest and most important women in Britain. Their names must remain protected at all times.
Veronica had 6 lawyers on her team to make sure no details were overlooked. Each contract was specifically designed for each member of staff.
Veronica was due at The Ritz Hotel at 3pm to interview another potential employee. She had reserved ‘The Prince Of Wales’ penthouse suite for the past 18 months, and it had suited her needs perfectly.
Marco Di Angelo was already waiting for her in the reception area of the penthouse. He hadn’t seen her arrive and was ignorant to her presence as he continued to read the content on his iPad. This gave her the opportunity to observe him without him noticing.
She had an assistant working from the penthouse every day, sourcing new talent for her team. When a suitable applicant had been found, after numerous interviews and medical tests, Veronica would make the ultimate decision in a final interview.
Marco was 32 years old, 6ft 1in tall, with short dark hair and hazel eyes. His photo didn’t do him justice, she mused, as her eyes scanned over him from behind her notes. He wore a black fitted suit, probably Armani, with a white shirt open at the collar revealing a soft smattering of dark chest hair. His posture spoke of confidence, he was relaxed even though this interview would mean a great deal to him. According to his profile he spoke 5 languages fluently and had a degree in International Politics.
He looked up at her from below his dark lashes, as if he’d felt her gaze upon him, their eyes locked and she immediately felt a tug in her groin. That was a good sign, and why he had made it thus far.
Veronica greeted him with an extended hand and gestured for him to follow her into the adjoining room. She felt dwarfed by his height at only 5ft 5in in her heels. She noticed the broadness of his shoulders as he walked ahead of her. He was a beautiful man there was no doubting that. If he hit all the criteria he would make a perfect addition to her fantasy team.
He had been given a fantasy scene 3 weeks earlier and had been asked to create this same scene with her today. The same fantasy was used on each candidate as the hotel was the perfect scenario. They needed to have some acting skills to be able to play whatever part was required of them. This was their final test, if they had made it here then they had excelled in every challenge they had been given.
Veronica spoke softly, her voice like a warm caress to the ear.
“Marco, are you ready to fulfil my fantasy?”
“I am”, he smirked. He was obviously very confident in himself as he held her gaze almost challenging her to look away first.
“Then let us begin,” she purred, as she gestured towards the door.
Marco turned around and left the room, taking his bellboy outfit with him.
He quickly scanned the pages of the fantasy that he’d already memorised to perfection. This would have to be the best performance of his life if he was to qualify.
Veronica undressed ready to play her role in this fantasy, the most important role, the client.
Marco Di Angelo – The Bellboy Fantasy
Stepping from the luxurious marble shower Veronica was surprised to hear movement in the adjacent room. Taking a peek through the crack in the bathroom door she observed the bellboy arranging her earlier shopping spree purchases in the room.
He was tall, dark and very attractive. She had noticed him at check-in when he took her suitcase. He was maybe Italian or Greek and had a sexuality about him that had caused her to clench her thighs when his gaze had caught hers.
Trying to follow his movements through the door her elbow connected with a bottle sending it crashing to the floor, she cursed as her favourite perfume bled out across the white marble; the sensual scent of Chanel filling her nostrils and arousing her senses.
The bellboy shot behind the curtains and hid as he realised she was out of the shower and could walk out naked at any moment. A naughty smile curved on her lips.
She casually walked into the room with only a towel protecting her modesty. She could see the shape of him outlined through the curtains in the sunshine. His broad shoulders filling almost one half of the window and his polished shoes peeking beneath the curtain hem, betraying his disguise.
Dropping the towel, Veronica lay on the bed and reached to the bedside table for her Cremé De La Mer body cream. She could hear his breath quickening at the sight of her naked body on full display through the translucent curtains. The sound of him encouraged her fingers as she gently massaged the thick white cream into her skin.
She purposely lingered on her nipples, now begging for some attention, as her body was engulfed in goose bumps. She felt a chill tingle down her spine despite the heat between her thighs. Slowly she tugged and pulled on her nipples causing them to stand tall and erect in the wake of her touch. A moan escaped her open mouth as her teeth sank into her lower lip, causing him to moan in response.
She noticed his movements behind the curtain; he was obviously pleasuring himself while watching her and the erotic sight fuelled her with arousal as the blood rushed through her veins.
Her hands stalled on her breasts before they wandered South towards her now moist and throbbing centre. She was aching to be touched and not just by her own hands. Slipping two fingers between her thighs, just brushing over her engorged sex, caused her to groan loudly. The noise that greeted her ears from behind the curtain was one of ecstasy and again her fingers were furiously encouraged by his moans of pleasure.
Slipping the two wandering fingers inside herself with her legs spread wide on the bed facing him, she began to perform for his eyes only. Knowing he was watching her, this complete stranger with only a flimsy curtain between them, was making her hotter than she had ever felt.
She moved in sweet rhythm with her hands. Arching her hips, rising to meet her fingers at every thrust. His movements were becoming more erratic from behind the curtain, suggesting he was close to orgasm.
Not wanting to waste this beautiful specimen of a man, nor the chance of an incredible climax, she spoke to him.
“I know you’re there, so why don’t you come out and fuck me like I know you want to.” Her voice was dripping with sexual desire.
She watched as the movement ceased and his hand withdrew leaving just his erection poking at the curtain. Tentatively he edged his way into view, removing the curtain from his flushed face. He was still wearing his bellboy uniform and hat and looked rather uncomfortable. Only his large engorged member stood proudly on the outside of his clothing.
“Take off your clothes,” Veronica purred, never once stopping the gentle caress she was applying to her clitoris.
He stared at her hand, his eyes taking in every movement, every stroke she made. Slowly he began to unbutton his jacket, followed by his shirt and finally his trousers. Her eyes never left him as she continued stroking herself in the most sensual manner.
He was awkward and a little shy in his revelations, she noticed the slight tremor of his hand and it made her smile. His twitching member had also not been lost on her.
“Do you want to fuck me?” she asked outright, staring into his hazel eyes that now met hers.
The bellboy nodded sheepishly; obviously knowing he could lose his job if anyone found out. He was now down to his underwear. She smiled as she took in the ‘Forza Milan’ boxer shorts. So he liked football and was more than likely Italian, amazing what you could deduce from someone’s underpants.
He now stood before her naked. He was beautiful. His body was well cared for, his manhood was something he was surely proud of and his eyes were screaming that he wanted her. His shyness gave her a sense of power.
She lifted her fingers from her wet centre and proffered them towards him.
“Would you like to taste?” She enquired with a naughty smirk.
He nodded and dropped to his knees beside the bed; his hands gently grasping her ankles. He pushed her legs further apart and raised himself just above her pubic mound. Their eyes bore into each other’s with a hunger that consumed them both.
He lowered his face towards her sex as she raised her hips to greet his greedy mouth. His tongue was like liquid fire, hot on her flesh. She didn’t even know his name but she wanted him right now, more than any man before him.
She was surprised by his expertise. The shy bellboy with the trembling hands was quite the master of cunnilingus. She lay back into the soft feather duvet and allowed his tongue to work her most sacred place.
It was brief; she could feel the orgasm building in her belly. She fisted his hair and pulled him deep into her as she rode his face with wild abandon.
“Ohhhh, I’m going to come, I’m going to come,” she hissed through tightly clenched teeth.
Two fingers slipped inside her and that was all it took to break down that final barrier that released the tidal wave that had been building within.
She pulled at his hair as she thrashed and moaned with his face buried deep between her thighs.
Then, taking her by surprise, he lifted her from her back and flipped her onto her knees in doggy fashion and was inside her before she had a chance to find her breath.
“You wanna get fucked lady, then fucked you shall be,” he growled the words with a slight twang of an Italian accent. The tables had turned and now he took control of the situation.
“Well aren’t you the dark horse,” she crooned thrusting in motion with him.
He sank his fingers into her flesh as he ploughed himself deep into her belly. His manhood was certainly satisfying, stretching her and filling her. Once again she marveled at his lovemaking, he was certainly a skilled lover.
Roughly he pulled out of her and once again flipped her over onto her front, only this time lifting her with strong arms up to his waist. She snaked her legs around him and sank down onto his solid tool. His firm hands lifting her up and down onto him as she sat impaled atop this beautiful man.
For the first time their lips met. He had the softest, fullest lips that were also hard and aggressive upon hers. His erect tongue darted into her warm mouth, teasing her as he lifted and lowered her onto him.
Their lips finally parted and they stared deep into each other’s eyes. Her fingers grasping at his silky hair as she held tight to his neck. He continued to fill and stretch her and she felt herself edging towards a second climax.
His eyes were deep and full of mystery and longing as he gazed at her. Suddenly she felt herself falling backwards onto the bed, her legs were hoisted over his shoulders as he continued to pound into her.
Veronica closed her eyes and abandoned herself to the expertise of this man, whom she had thought just a shy bellboy, who was truly exceptional in every way.
He rode her body like a professional sex jockey. He knew just where to touch, where to nip with his teeth and where to linger with his lips. She wrapped her arms around his neck so she could lift herself to meet his thrusts.
“I’m ready to come again,” she cried through ragged breath.
He didn’t say a word; he pushed her legs from his shoulders right over her head. Any further and she would have been able to reach her sex with her own tongue. The weight of him upon her pushed her down into the bed with her feet now beside her face.
The position meant he was touching her very centre with his solid shaft. Whatever it was, whatever he just did caused her to come undone in a way she had never experienced. She fought to breathe as the orgasm flooded her body with pleasure and endorphins filled her veins. She gripped onto him with all her might as wave after wave of pleasure consumed her being.
He pulled himself from within her, causing her to cry out, as he emptied his liquid offering all over her belly and breasts. His moan was that of a wild animal in the night. He came for what seemed like an eternity making her feel beautiful and desired.
Marco Di Angelo had proved himself worthy of being on her team. He could act, he was beautiful, he was intelligent and he fucked like a pro. 10/10 meant he had bagged himself a job.
Veronica now only had 2 more interviews left, but that was for another day. Today had been productive and very satisfying. Now it was time to go home and relax with a glass of wine and write Marco’s report.