Escort Neighbour Pt. 04

The bedroom was full of moans and cries of pleasure.

Later I lay in Jennifer's arms and she was kissing my face all over. She licked off Roger's cum and went back to kissing me. I didn't care. I liked it. Roger was speaking softly with Betty and they laughed a little.

"I'm proud of you, baby," whispered Jennifer.

"Thanks."

"You've come a long way. You're mine now."

I nodded, "I always will be."

"Roger wants to suck your cock."

"Uh-huh."

"Can he?"

"Sure." I said and realised I wanted that.

* * *

By the end of the week I knew I was bi-sexual. I much preferred women, but like Betty had said, in the right setting I was up for anything. We did a lot of interesting things in that hotel room. I won't go into details but if you can imagine it, we did it.

We grew so much closer. Roger wanted me to himself for a bit, but I drew the line there. I was only okay with it so long as Jennifer was with me. Jennifer understood. I was hers and she was mine, but we were willing to share.

We flew down to Atlanta, Georgia. We pulled up to the headquarters in a stretched limousine and we were met by the media asking all sorts of lurid questions. We hurried past them aided by guards. We were bustled through the building and I found myself in makeup.

A cute young girl attended to me. She gushed about my novels and had me sign one. The makeup was applied, and I soon found myself sitting next to Jennifer on a small stage surrounded by blinding lights, cameras and a small studio audience.

The host of the show came out and we talked. He was nicer in person. He was openly gay and admitted to liking my novels. Even the fantasy ones. He set me at ease and went over his questions with me. Jennifer had received them a couple of days ago and we were relieved they hadn't changed.

"So what is it you want to accomplish here, Bill?" he asked me.

"I want to set the record straight," I replied nervously.

"And what record is that?"

"That I'm a simple author who writes novels. I'm quite a normal person. The media has painted me in a horrible way."

The host nodded. "It's true. Well, I hope we can help. You ready? We go on air in five minutes."

I nodded. It was a live broadcast. Someone told me the number of viewers they expected but the number seemed too impossibly high, it was easier to think only of the studio audience.

Jennifer held my hand. We were both clammy. I looked at her and she seemed really nervous.

"You okay, hon?"

She nodded and bit her lip. She leaned over and kissed me. "I love you, Bill. It's just you and me, now, isn't it?"

"Yes, love. You and me. Always."

She searched my face and then nodded, satisfied.

I saw Betty and Roger standing off to the side. They gave me a thumbs up and I smiled.

The show started.

"Good evening, ladies and gentlemen. I have the honour to interview a much talked about author tonight. He's known the world over by another name. A pseudonym. It was recently revealed this author is not a woman, as everyone knew, but a man. His books, all eleven of them, are international bestsellers. Ranking with Fifty Shades. There's already talk about making movies from his novels.

"The media has been a circus regarding this man. Some call him a fraud, his wife went on record calling him a charlatan. Tonight, he joins us with his marketing specialist, Jennifer. Bill, how are you this evening?"

"I'm doing good, thanks."

"The weather is a bit warmer here in Atlanta. A far cry from Canada."

I laughed. "True."

"But not as warm as Saint Thomas. What brought you there?"

So far, he was on script. "My friend Jennifer here, she brought me down. It was meant to be an escape. I went dancing and I accidently let out who I was. I didn't expect to be recognised. I'm just a simple author." It was important to keep saying that, it was part of our strategy.

"A simple author? Many would disagree. Many celebrities and other famous authors have been tweeting non-stop about you. They say your writing is exceptional. You spell out the human condition so well."

"Well, thanks. I just write from the heart."

"What fuels your stories? They're pretty raunchy. Your wife seems to think you're a deviant with no sexual knowledge."

I laughed and looked at Jennifer for a moment. He was off script. "I've a really good imagination. But really, I'm just a simple author. We write from our minds."

"So what you are saying is that you make it all up? You aren't this brilliant sex writer with reams, excuse the expression, reams of experience."

I opened my mouth to speak but was at a loss for words. He was off script. We had talked in the hotel room about this. About how I could steer the conversation back on track. I looked at Betty and Roger and Betty looked worried. "Well, no, but I..."

"Excuse me," interrupted Jennifer. "I can attest to his experiences."

The host turned to Jennifer and I looked at her in surprise. She wasn't supposed to speak. "How's that, Jennifer?" asked the host.

"Many people don't know this, but I'm a professional escort. I've been in the escort business for over a decade. I have clients all over the world. You might say, I'm a sex expert."

The host seemed stunned. "You are?"

"I'm known as Rachel. Google me. I can attest to Bill's prowess. I've fucked a lot of men and women in my lifetime. I know good sex and I know when someone knows what they are doing. In my experience, Bill is the best. He is the best lover I have ever had. So good in fact, I've given up the escort business. It's just Bill now. I don't need anyone else."

I stared at her. She had just outed herself on national television.

"Jennifer, no, don't do this."

"It's too late Bill. It's done." She turned to the host. "I moved next to Bill. I became his neighbour. A happy coincidence. The man I met was kind, honourable, sincere. He loved his wife, but he lived in an unhappy home. His wife did nothing for him, but he didn't complain. He suffered her lack of interest for their entire marriage. And yet he stayed with her and provided everything for her. Her attack on him was slanderous. Unfathomable. This man has the sexual imagination and appetite to dwarf anyone else. His only outlet was his writing. And he's good at it. His book sales prove it.

"I love this man with all my heart. He pleases me like no other man in my life. His attention to me is second to none. His books are real. The sex he writes is real. The author and the man are the same person. He just doesn't see it yet. He just wants to be left alone to write. He gives to the world and asks for nothing back. Just an income to get by on.

"He's an international sensation. And he's mine. He fucks better than anyone I have ever met. He pleases me non-stop. He has the endurance to put younger men to shame. And he has no limits. There could be no better person to write his novels. He is the expert."

The host gathered himself. "That... that's interesting. Bill, would you care to comment?"

I looked at her. The rest of the world was watching, but I only had eyes for her. "Jennifer? Why?"

"Because I love you, stupid." Her eyes were swimming. "You are the best man I have ever met, Bill. You understand me. Accepted me. And loved me, despite who I was. The way you treat me? You don't even come close to capturing that in your novels. You're so much better than those books. Don't you see?"

I did. Her words were true. But only because Jennifer made it true.

I fell to my knees in front of her. I fumbled in my pocket and pulled out a small jewellery case. I heard gasps in the audience. My hands shaking, I opened the small box and held it out to Jennifer. "Jennifer, I love you so much. I am who I am because of you and only you. Please. Be my wife?"

Jennifer was staring at me in shock. Her eyes were wide open, and her chin trembled. She nodded her head over and over. "Yes, baby! Yes! Of course I will!"

I rose up and swept her into my arms. I heard the host clapping behind me and then the audience broke out to applause and cat calls. I slipped the ring on her finger. It fit perfectly. Betty had picked it out for me.

We kissed. It was one of our more passionate kisses and it went on for a long, long time. That kiss was aired for years afterwards. It was ranked as one of the top ten.

The show was a success. The media soon sided with me and I ran the talk show circuit. My book sales rocketed higher and I signed movie rights. I was wealthy and happy.

My divorce cost me less than I thought. Betty's lawyers were top notch. Nancy's own words were used against her in court. I opted to split my wealth before I took ownership of my books. I gave Nancy the house. And the car. She accepted everything and the divorce was finalised.

Jennifer sold her house and made a pretty penny for it. Living next to the former house of a famous author peaked the sales. We bought a condo in the Toronto area and Jennifer decorated it to her usual high standards.

We had our marriage in Saint Thomas. It seemed like the right place to do it. I got to meet a lot of Jennifer's former clients. She was very well connected, and our wedding gifts were extraordinary. I now had a beautiful sports car and a yacht for the Great Lakes.

We visit Betty and Roger all the time. Sometimes we see Elsa, and Alyssa is always hanging out with us. Jennifer told me Alyssa loves me. Eventually, and thankfully, she found a partner and she's almost as gorgeous as Alyssa. They're into some serious kinky shit though and Jennifer and I both agreed to not do that shit.

After two years, Jennifer got pregnant. It was planned and only took a few tries. I found out what people meant by the second trimester, and my sex life exploded, if that were possible. She gave birth to a beautiful girl we named Carmen. She's beautiful like her mom. She has me wrapped around her little finger.

Sex with Jennifer never gets old or common. I get to spend my life with a woman I love so much it hurts. Making her orgasm and letting her bring me to orgasm is the biggest joy in our lives and it reaffirms our love for one another. It binds us and makes us who we are. We often bring in other partners. People we love and admire. Its gives us joy to pleasure other people. Man and woman. It no longer matters to me. Love is love.

The End