“What?”
June briefly explained. Something about Sette being an artist in a funk, June was a beautiful woman who inspired her, and now Sette wanted to drop money on her to take off her clothes and be painted. On canvas, that was. “It will be some of the easiest money ever.”
“Interesting.” Monique’s mind was on a tear. She was always scheming, analyzing, and reading people. There was a reason her business had grown into a multi-million dollar enterprise in as little as a year. She knew what people wanted, and who they wanted it with.To be fair, Sette was hard for me to read at first, too.As soon as she told June to eat her out, though, everything had fallen into place.
She had tasted good. Too good. Most clients didn’t even register on June’s tongue. In one week, she had encountered two women who tasted as good as they screwed. She assumed the latter about Sette. She came off soft, but in those eyes was a reserved passion waiting to explode.Maybe she’ll explode on me today. June could say she had tasted an artist recently, but not fucked one. Good thing Sette had that doctor money to fall back on, though. June had looked up Sette Christie and couldn’t find much about her art.Either she has another name, or she isn’t that famous.Starving artists were not a cute addition to the Manoir.
“I’ll leave you to get ready. Have fun with your artist.” Monique stood up, leading with her stomach. “Although… if she wants to do something with a recognizable piece of you…”
“I know. I’ll let her know.”
“Good. Be sure to take those cards.”
June had hoped for some peace while she attempted to eat her oatmeal, now accompanied by a grapefruit she snatched from the bowl. Even though she was having a relatively late breakfast at ten, two other girls stumbled in with plates of eggs, bagels, and what looked like quinoa.People here are weird. June was older than all of them – certainly older than Grace and Holly, who entered now – so she felt more like the older sister than a peer.
“There she is!” Grace slumped into Monique’s seat and plopped her bagel onto the table. “Finally, I’ve caught up to you. Tell me all about the other night.”
“Huh?”
Holly, with her smarmy, fake-as-shit smile, sat across from June. “She means when you were howling like a slut the other night, and not the paid kind.”
“Thanks.” Holly could go suck it. Whatever “it” was. Ever since she moved into the Manoir two, three months ago, she had been nothing but an obnoxious thorn in June’s ass. She was also twenty-two, which probably had something to do with it. The older June got, the less she was able to handle these younger girls.Crotchety old ho coming through. If they were younger than twenty-five, then June had little patience. “I have no idea why you want to know, though. I was working.”
“Yeah, but you were loud. Either you found a new way to fake it, or that client took you to the moon and back.”
This wasn’t an unusual conversation at the breakfast table. Breakfast (and lunch) was the only time most of them had to get together to gab and gripe about clients. There was a level of commiseration they couldn’t get anywhere else, even if they didn’t get along most days.I get along with everyone fine.Except Holly. They never had fights at the Manoir, but the passive-aggression could fly off the charts if someone was particularly miffed. They had to keep it professional lest they suffered Monique’s wrath – and nobody wanted to kiss this gravy train goodbye and go to whatever life they had last. For June, it wasn’t too bad, but for women like Grace… well, one would say she was lucky to be spotted working a hotel lounge.Luckybecause Monique had recognized the cop she was trying to score some money from.
Everyone could hear everyone else having loud sex if they traveled the halls at night. So, no surprise that gossip traveledabout the sounds June made when Miquela “Big Strap” Bolivar rammed her pussy until she couldn’t walk right for a whole day.Crossing my legs thinking about it.God, that had been the best lay since coming to the Manoir, and that was actually saying a lot.
“Yeah, well, you would’ve been shrieking for Aphrodite to spare you if the hottest Spaniard with a fake rig the size of Kansas came your way, too.”
“How big?” both girls asked in unison.
“Big.” June knew better than to throw out a number. That was all relative. “If I’m saying it’s big, then it was probably big.”
“You said she was a Spaniard?”
“Yes, technically. Though she was from Monaco, I think.”
“Monaco! Whoa!”
“Like Monte Carlo Monaco?”
“The same.”
“That is hot.” Holly snuffed into her quinoa. “Why can’t I get a client like that? This whole week has been people whosmell.”
“I haven’t done too badly this week,” Grace said. “I had my patron the other night, and she always knows how to please me.”
“Show off.”
“Anyway, then there was that woman on Wednesday. Remember her, June? The artist?”
“I take it you mean the non-doctor one.”
“Um, yes. The other one you were with came off as such a stick in the mud. Like she couldn’t believe someone actually paid women for sex.” Grace laughed. “Let alonewomenpaying other women for sex!”
June couldn’t help but smirk. “The doctor wasn’t so bad. Didn’t fuck me, but she also didn’t say no to me polishing her pearl. I think she could be fun. Seeing her this afternoon.”
