The Birthday Present’s Freya Thompson

Freya Thompson is thirty years old and recovered from a heart-transplant operation. Desperate to be rid of her embarrassing virginity, her best friends hire a male escort to sleep with her. So, ‘Samantha’ has sex with ‘Simon’ in a hotel room and, as she feared, he is freaked out by her enormous scar. She leaves the hotel never expecting to see him again.

A week later, she bumps into ‘Simon’ at her birthday party at a central London hotel. To her amazement, he is unable to keep his hands off her and they spend two hours having sex in a hotel room. When she leaves, she expects once more to never see him again, 

In the morning, she is curious to see where ‘Simon’ works. Discovering that the escort agency offices are in a nondescript 1960s office block, she decides to have a cup of coffee in a nearby coffee shop. When ‘Simon’ walks in, she is mortified. He must think she is a crazy stalker. Simon is a little disconcerted, but he confesses that he’d never wanted to see a client again until her. A combination of her vulnerability and the fact that he was the one who took her virginity, has made her irresistible to him.

He confesses that his real name is Jamie Watson and that he knows she is Freya Thompson, the daughter of a Conservative Member of Parliament. Jamie tells her that Simon is a fiction – a fantasy – an act – and he doesn’t date clients. They had both been pretending to be someone else, so he suggests that they both forget the fantasy and start again.  

Freya desperately wants to make up for lost time and is disappointed when Jamie says he doesn’t want to just fuck her. He asks her if she wants a relationship with him or just sex. Freya wants a relationship and to be fucked but she can’t have both. Jamie simply wants a relationship with her and to get to know her properly. He tells Freya to think about it and to call him when she makes a decision. To her astonishment, he then gets up and walks away from her. 

What is Freya’s response? Is she just a spoilt little rich girl looking for a bit of rough and now that Jamie has insisted on a relationship and not just sex, will Freya make up for lost time by going and looking to be fucked elsewhere? Read The Birthday Present to find out!

He’d been paid to have sex with her. She will never see him again. Or will she?

Recovered from a heart transplant operation, thirty-year-old Freya Thompson is desperate to be rid of her embarrassing virginity and is given a birthday present like no other. A male escort will take her virginity and she can then carry on with the life the new heart has given her.

But ‘Samantha’ isn’t prepared for ‘Simon’ – tall, brown-haired, blue-eyed, and gorgeous. But even more important than that, he isn’t terrified by her huge scar. He doesn’t treat her like a freak, and she finds herself attracted to him. But he’s a male escort, he’d been paid to have sex with her, and she will never see him again. Or will she?

An Excerpt From Chapter Two

They returned to the hotel in complete silence and he led her inside through the kitchens at the rear. He’s done this before, she thought but didn’t care. Waiting in a storeroom while he went to the reception desk, she wondered if anyone was looking for her but, again, she didn’t care. He wanted her, and her stomach clenched with exhilaration.

Ten minutes passed before he returned to her. “I’ve persuaded them to let us have a room for two hours. It’s on the third floor.”

“All right.”

“We’ll take the service lift, come on.”

Leading her along a corridor, they went into the lift and he pressed the button for the third floor. The doors closed and the lift clanked its way upwards until it stopped, gave a little judder and the doors opened again.

“Number 325,” he muttered and they walked down the corridor until he stopped, inserted the keycard into the slot, and the door swung open. “Not beige, thank fuck.”

It was a lovely room, deep red was the predominant colour, and the bed was huge. The door closed behind her, and he put the key card on a table before turning to look at her.

“I’ll say it again if you don’t want to stay just say.”

“I want to stay,” she told him and he gave her a relieved little nod.

“What else are you wearing under the dress?”

“Undress me and find out.”

He stood behind her and slowly lowered the zip. The dress fell to the floor and she stepped out of it. His lips parted, taking in her blue high-heeled shoes, blue stay-up stockings, blue thong, and blue bra.

“I need to hang this up.” She picked up the dress and retrieved a hanger from a wardrobe. Hanging the dress on the front of the wardrobe, she turned to face him. He was standing in the middle of the floor just staring at her. “What is it?”

“You,” he said simply. “You’re incredible. I can’t believe I’m your first.”

“I can’t believe you’re my first. I always expected to get a sympathy fuck from someone.”

“You were anything but a sympathy fuck,” he said, pulling open his bow tie, and undoing his shirt buttons. “Anything fucking but,” he muttered, shrugging both the shirt and jacket off, before undoing his trousers. He let them fall to the floor before stepping out of them and kicking his shoes off.

His hard cock was straining against his boxer shorts as he reached for his jacket and pulled out a packet of condoms, put it on the table and threw the jacket onto the back of the chair. Would she be able to satisfy him, she wondered, as she unhooked her bra and let it slide down her arms. He came to her, cupped one breast, and she saw her nipples harden. Lowering his head, he sucked a nipple into his mouth, and she watched as his tongue swirled over it and then the other. Oh, God, in all her fantasies while she was ill in hospital, she had never expected anything like this. When he took her breast into his mouth and sucked on one and then the other, she groaned for the first time.

He released her and slid her thong down her legs and she stepped out of it before doing the same with his boxer shorts, her mouth forming an ‘O’ when his cock sprang free. Reaching out, she held it in her hand, finding her fingers couldn’t quite encircle it.

“You’re huge,” she whispered.

“Because of you. Would you like me to lick your clit?”

“Yes.”

“Go and sit in the chair.”

She did as she was told, opening her legs wide for him. Kneeling down, he slid his thumb over her clit and smiled when she sucked in a startled breath and arched her hips.

“You like this, don’t you?” he asked, doing it again, and her hips bucked.

“Yes,” she gasped. “But I think you do, too.”

“I’m going to make you come with my tongue. Open your legs wider and relax.”

“Okay… Oh, fuck.” He’d found her clit immediately, massaging it with his tongue in long, measured strokes, before flicking it with the tip. She struggled to breathe, holding onto the arms of the chair as the pleasure grew inside her. It exploded when he began to suck.

Opening her eyes, she let out a little groan.

“Samantha?”

“Oh, shit, I think I pulled your hair like the last time,” she murmured.

“It doesn’t matter. Are you okay?”

“Yes. I need some water.”

“I’ll get you some.” Kissing her lips, he got to his feet and went into the bathroom.

Gripping the arms of the chair, she pushed herself to her feet and smiled as he returned with a glass of water. “Thank you.” She accepted it from him and took a sip. “What do you like?”

“Watching you come.”

“And?” she prompted.

“Being inside you.”

“From a first time fuck? I can’t have been that memorable?”

“Yes. You were.” Taking the glass from her, he took a sip and put it down on the dressing table. “Slip those shoes off,” he added, picking up the packet of condoms. “And come to the bed.”

She kicked off the shoes, climbed onto the bed, and watched as he rolled a condom on. He followed her onto the bed and she opened her legs for him again. He entered her, stretching her pussy so tightly that she moaned.

“You okay?” he asked.

“Yes. Don’t stop. Please.” He nodded and gently moved inside her. “Yes,” she moaned into his neck, wanting to remember everything. The way he felt inside her, stretching her pussy. The way her nipples rubbed against his chest. The way he lifted his hips as he withdrew a little and the way her hips rose to pull him back inside her. His hips fell as he sank into her again, inch by inch, filling her pussy completely. Would any other man ever fill her like this again?

He began his rhythm slowly, pulling out and meeting her hips as he pushed in again. Soon, she needed more. She needed him faster and deeper, and she raised her hips more quickly to meet his, her moans getting louder with each thrust. Their hips were now crashing together and she felt her orgasm taking hold and he found his release with one deep thrust before he dropped onto her with a harsh groan.

When she opened her eyes, she found herself gripping his shoulders, and her legs were wrapped around him in an effort to hold him inside her. Their ragged breathing filled the room and she watched as he lifted himself onto his elbows. She lowered her legs and he withdrew from her.

“Want to be on top?” he asked. “Want to ride my cock?”

“Yes.”

“Good.” He slid off the bed and went into the bathroom. She heard the toilet flush and he re-appeared at the door, running his fingers along his already stiff cock. He walked to the dressing table and slid on another condom. How many were in the packet, she wondered. Three? Five? She smiled. Five, hopefully. “What?” he asked.

“How many condoms are in the packet?”

“Five. Want to use them all?”

“Yes, if we’ve time.”

He gave her a grin and climbed back onto the bed. He lay down and she stared at his cock for a moment. She straddled him, reaching for it. Holding it, she eased herself slowly down, expelling a long breath and making him groan. Fuck, his cock was huge.

“Don’t move,” he whispered. “Not yet.” Sitting up, he took one of her nipples into his mouth and sucked on it gently before allowing it to slip out of his mouth and then doing the same with the other. “You’re unbelievable.”

“How long have we left?”

“Don’t think about that,” he urged, his hands sliding down to her hips. “Reception is going to call the room when it’s time to go. Don’t think about that. Just ride my cock.”

She raised herself up a little then sank down onto him again before doing it again. Soon she found a rhythm and he seemed to enjoy her tits bouncing into his face. She closed her eyes, letting her head roll back on her shoulders, her back slightly arched. His hands tightened around her waist and she clasped his face and kissed him as an orgasm took over her, feeling his body jerk upwards against hers. She collapsed against him, completely unable to stay upright.

When she opened her eyes, he hadn’t yet let her go. He kissed her lips before sliding her from on top of him and placing her on her side as he got up and off the bed. She followed him off the bed as he went into the bathroom and the toilet flushed again. Reaching for the glass of water, she sipped it, then picked up a condom and pulled it out of the packaging.

“Can I?” she asked as he stood at the bathroom door.

Nodding, he walked forward, and she crouched down. His cock wasn’t quite hard yet, so she lifted it and ran her fingers along the underside before smoothing a thumb over the tip. Feeling it harden, she rolled the condom on, before kissing and taking the tip into her mouth.

“Don’t,” he said suddenly, backing away from her.

“Why?” she asked, a surge of disappointment flowing through her. Wasn’t she doing it correctly? “Why not?”

“Just don’t do that. Please.”

“But I made you come earlier with the tip of my tongue.”

He closed his eyes for a moment. “I just don’t like it, so, please?”

“Okay.” She got to her feet. “I’m sorry.”

“No.” He kissed her lips. “Please don’t be embarrassed. In time, you’ll discover things you don’t particularly like.”

“I suppose so.”

“What about on there?” He nodded to the dressing table and she smiled and nodded. “Okay.” He lifted her and sat her on the edge before parting her legs, entering her and settling inside her with a little grunt. “I could stay inside your pussy forever,” he whispered, sliding his hands up her thighs.

Lifting her legs, she locked her ankles around his waist and her hands around his neck as he began to thrust hard into her pussy, only pulling out a little before slamming back into her. To her surprise, it didn’t hurt. She was going to come quickly this time. She could feel it building already and she dug her nails into the back of his neck and squealed, feeling him jerk against her.

Sinking back against the wall of the room, she pulled air into her lungs and let her legs fall from his waist.

“Did I hurt you?” he asked, peeling the condom off in front of her for the first time.

“No.”

“Two left,” he told her, holding the used condom up. “So tell me what you’d like.”

“I want you to fuck me in my lingerie and then I want us to get dressed so you can fuck me in my dress in that tux.”

He began to smile, went to the bathroom with the used condom and flushed it down the toilet. Reappearing at the bathroom door, he gave her a grin. “Sounds good.”

“I hope it’ll be a bit better than good,” she said, sliding off the dressing table and reaching for her thong. Stepping into it, she pulled it up and put on her bra before stepping into her shoes. Straightening up, she felt him standing behind her, his hands cupping her breasts and gyrating his hips against hers. She began to move with him. In her heels, she was almost as tall as him and moulded her body against his as they rotated their hips. “I like this,” she murmured. “Don’t stop.”

“But my cock’s getting hard and I want to be inside your pussy.”

“Okay.” Turning around, she looked down, feeling his cock pressing into her stomach. “Bigger again. I don’t know how you do it.”

“I should be saying that to you.” He smiled, reaching for the fourth condom and sliding it on.

“Over here?” She walked to the dressing table and bent over it, legs apart and her hands gripping the edges.

“Perfect.” He spread her legs a little further apart and pulled the thong to one side before entering her. She sank back against him, taking all of him in and heard him expel a long breath. Holding her hips, he withdrew before thrusting into her again, quickly building up a rhythm. His balls were slapping hard against her but it didn’t hurt. Resting her forehead on the dressing table, she closed her eyes and succumbed to the pleasure.

“Samantha?” She felt herself being raised to her feet. “Come and sit on the bed.”

“Why?”

“You were screaming.”

“Oh. Sorry.” Leading her to the bed, he sat her down and passed her the glass of water.

“Drink that while I get dressed.”

“All right.” She sipped at the water, watching as he retrieved his clothes and put them on. “Is that a tailored tux?” she asked as he left the bow tie loose and the top button of the white shirt undone.

“Yes. I treated myself. Like it?”

She nodded. “Mummy says that a man should always have one good tux and one good suit because you never know when you might need them.”

“Does she now?”

She felt herself redden. “She’s a bit old-fashioned.”

“No, I completely agree.” Going to the wardrobe, he lifted the dress down and removed the coat hanger. “Let me help you with this.”

She got up and put the glass on the dressing table. He held the dress open and she stepped into it, pulled it up and he raised the zip. Turning to face him, the telephone on one of the bedside lockers began to ring and she stared at it in dismay.

“It can’t be two hours already,” she said, as he answered it.

“Hello? Yes. Yes, I understand. Thank you.” He put the receiver down and sighed. “They need the room.”

“Now?” she asked, hoping she wouldn’t cry.

“Now. We’d better go.”

She nodded. “I don’t know how to thank you.”

He laughed kindly. “I should be thanking you.” He led her to the door then kissed her lips. “Goodbye, Samantha.”

“Goodbye, Simon,” she said as calmly as she could as he opened the door for her.

She went out into the corridor and the door closed after her. Blinking furiously, she went down to the ground floor in the main lift and hurried to the ladies toilets. Fixing her hair and makeup as best she could, she took a deep breath and went out into the foyer.

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The Birthday Present’s Jamie Watson

Jamie Watson works as a male escort using the name Simon Harrison and is paid an obscene amount of money to relieve a thirty-year-old woman of her virginity. He has never slept with a client before and, expecting a geek or a woman with a beard, he is astonished when he meets the beautiful ‘Samantha’. 

He does the deed and he expects to never see ‘Samantha’ again but they bump into each other at her birthday party at a central London hotel. Unable to keep their hands off each other, they spend two hours having sex in a hotel room. When she leaves, he expects once more to never see her again, especially when he discovers that she is, in fact, Freya Thompson, the daughter of a Conservative Member of Parliament.

The following morning, he is disconcerted to see her sitting at a table in a coffee shop near his apartment. She confesses she wanted to see the offices of the escort agency he works for and he confesses that Simon isn’t his real name and that Simon is a fiction – a fantasy – an act – and he doesn’t date clients. They had both been pretending to be someone else, so he suggests that they both forget the fantasy and start again.  

He confesses he’d never wanted to see a client again until her. A combination of her vulnerability and the fact that he was the one who took her virginity, has made her irresistable to him. He knows she wants to make up for lost time but he doesn’t want to just fuck her, so he asks her if she wants a relationship with him or just sex. She can’t have both. He wants a relationship with her and to get to know her properly. Before he can give into the urge to bring her back to his apartment, he tells Freya to think about it and to call him when she makes a decision. He then gets up and walks away from her. 

What is Freya’s response? Was she just looking for a bit of rough and now he has insisted on a relationship and not just sex, will she go looking elsewhere? Read The Birthday Present to find out!

He’d been paid to have sex with her. She will never see him again. Or will she?

Recovered from a heart transplant operation, thirty-year-old Freya Thompson is desperate to be rid of her embarrassing virginity and is given a birthday present like no other. A male escort will take her virginity and she can then carry on with the life the new heart has given her.

But ‘Samantha’ isn’t prepared for ‘Simon’ – tall, brown-haired, blue-eyed, and gorgeous. But even more important than that, he isn’t terrified by her huge scar. He doesn’t treat her like a freak, and she finds herself attracted to him. But he’s a male escort, he’d been paid to have sex with her, and she will never see him again. Or will she?

An Excerpt From Chapter Three

Her route back to the underground station brought her within two streets of the escort agency Simon belonged to. Making a spur of the moment decision, Freya turned down a street in its direction, suddenly curious to see it. It wasn’t as if she’d bump into him again, or anything.

Standing across the street, she gazed up at the office building. It was nothing out of the ordinary, just an ugly concrete monstrosity built in the 1960s. A little disappointed, she walked away and went into a coffee shop a few doors along the street, eager to rid her mouth of the taste of Anthony’s cold and milky coffee. Buying an Americano, she brought it to a corner table and sat down.

This was ridiculous, she thought, stirring milk into the coffee. You shouldn’t be anywhere near here. It was two hours of fantastic sex but you’re never going to see him again. Just drink your coffee, go home, and make a decision on what you’re going to do with your life.

“Samantha?” Hearing the voice she jumped and looked up. It was Simon – a rather scruffy Simon – heavily stubbled and dressed in a grey hooded sweatshirt, faded blue jeans, a newspaper under his arm, and holding a cup and saucer. “What are you doing here?”

“I, er, I was visiting a friend who lives nearby.”

He pulled a sceptical expression and she stirred her coffee again, noting how her hand was shaking a little with embarrassment. She’d wanted to see him again but now she just oozed crazy stalker.

“Can I join you, Samantha? Or, should I say, Freya?”

She froze. How had he found out? “Yes.”

Placing the newspaper and the cup and saucer on the table, he pulled out a chair and sat down. “There’s a picture of you in one of the tabloid newspapers. ‘Freya Thompson at her thirtieth birthday bash at the plush Connaught Palace Hotel.’ Do you like slumming it with the likes of me?”

She flushed as a woman at the next table began to eavesdrop shamelessly. “Could you please lower your voice?” she asked him.

“Why?”

“Okay, I’ll just let everyone here know how you don’t like having your cock in my mouth.”

The woman at the next table inhaled her coffee and began to cough but Simon didn’t even glance in her direction and Freya met his blue eyes defiantly.

“All right,” he said finally. “Outside.”

“What?”

“I think we should sit at one of the tables outside. Come on.” Getting to his feet, he put the newspaper back under his arm and picked up his cup and saucer, then walked out of the coffee shop.

Following him outside, with her own cup and saucer, she put it down on the aluminium table and hung her handbag over the back of the chair before sitting down.

“A friend?” he began sitting in the chair opposite hers. “You have a friend who lives around here?”

“Yes, Anthony. He’s just moved into one of the new apartment blocks overlooking the Thames. Mummy wants me to be a good girl and marry him. I’ve just been round to tell him it’s never going to happen. He was relieved.”

Simon frowned. “Relieved?”

“He’s the brother of one of my best friends,” she explained. “He’s practically a brother to me. The whole idea makes me cringe.”

“So your mother wants to see you settled down?”

“Yes. But it won’t be with Anthony. Anyway.” She took a sip of coffee, reached for her handbag and went to get up. “It was nice seeing you again.”

“You’re going?” he asked. “But you haven’t finished your coffee.”

“No, but—”

“Stay.” Reaching out, he laid a hand on her arm. “Please.”

“But you must think I’m a crazy stalker or something.”

“You were the last person I expected to see here, but now that you are here, please stay?”

“All right.” Hanging the strap of her handbag over the back of her chair, she sipped her coffee. “I just wanted to see where you worked,” she admitted. “Well, not worked…” Tailing off, she squirmed.

“The office is across the road. But it’s only an office. Look,” he said. “The first thing I need to tell you is that my name isn’t Simon. Simon is a fiction – a fantasy – an act. He isn’t me. My name is James Watson – Jamie – well, James. I’m getting a bit old for Jamie.” Shaking his head, he reached for his cup and took a gulp of the black coffee.

“Oh.”

Putting his cup down, he gave her a humourless smile. “Please don’t tell me you were naïve enough to believe that Simon was my real name?”

“You seem to be quite annoyed that I’m not called Samantha.”

“Touché.” He laughed.

“Well, you are, aren’t you?” she asked. “Anyway, I didn’t give your actual name much thought, I just wanted you to fuck me. And you did. And I loved it. Anyway, I like the name Jamie and, yes, I suppose it is safer for you to use a false name. Like it was safer for me to use a false name. You must have encountered women even crazier than me.”

“I don’t think you’re crazy.”

“Just a bit weird?” she suggested and they both smiled. “I must get it from my weird inbred family.”

“I went home and looked you up on the internet after I saw the newspaper photo of you in the newsagents. Daddy a Conservative Member of Parliament. Mummy the eldest daughter of an earl. Educated at Oxford and the London School of Economics. Had the heart transplant operation in a private hospital, which ruffled a lot of feathers.”

“I still had to wait for a heart to become available like everyone else,” she informed him. “Just because I’m a spoiled little rich girl doesn’t mean I was automatically entitled to one.”

“I’m glad to hear it,” he replied and she could hear the humour in his voice. “So, what now?”

“Now?”

“Are you looking for a bit of rough or something?” he asked as she raised her coffee cup to her lips and took a sip.

“I hadn’t had a bit of anything until you. Or rather, Simon. And he didn’t come across as rough. I don’t know a thing about you. Are you a bit of rough?”

He began to laugh. “Yes, I am compared to you. I live around the corner in a one-bedroomed apartment. I do own it, though. Owning my own home is very important to me.”

“I still live at home,” she mumbled.

“Well, that’s understandable in the circumstances. Freya, Simon doesn’t exist. With me, what you see is what you get.”

“It’s the same with me.”

His eyes dropped to her casual but hugely expensive white shirt and blue jeans. “I doubt that very much.”

“I don’t understand?” She frowned.

“Well, are you going to bring me home and introduce me to your incredibly rich and well-connected parents and tell them how we met? How a man using a false name took your virginity in a hotel room, and how you now love being fucked?” She began to cough and he sat back in his seat. “I thought not. I don’t date clients, Freya.”

“Not even ones you’re attracted to? Ones you love fucking? Or was that an act, too?”

“I’d never slept with a client before until you,” he told her instead of answering. “I did it for the money – a huge amount of money. It’s as simple as that.”

“Is it? Unless you are also an Oscar-winning actor, I know you enjoyed it. You enjoyed it so much you were completely freaked out. I thought it was my scar but it wasn’t the scar at all. You couldn’t keep your hands off me down at the Embankment. I made you come with the tip of my tongue, then you couldn’t wait to lift my dress and get your hand between my legs. You were the first to mention getting a room. We fucked in that hotel room for two whole hours.”

“It was a fantasy, Freya,” he reminded her. “We were both pretending to be someone else.”

“So, what now? Do you want me to get up and walk away?”

“Do you?”

“No,” she replied quietly and saw relief flood into his face.

“I’m glad because I don’t want you to either.”

“So, what now?” she repeated. “What can we do?”

“We forget the fantasy and start again?” he suggested. “I give you my number? And maybe you could give me yours?”

“Are you married?”

He shook his head. “No. And I’m not seeing anyone at the moment either.”

“If you’re caught with a client will you get fired?”

“Yes, but the booking was made in your friends’ names and your name was given as Samantha.”

They swapped phone numbers then sat silently for a few moments finishing their coffee.

“Would you like me to call you James or Jamie?” she asked.

“I don’t know.”

“Well, what do your parents call you?”

Sighing, he ran a forefinger around the rim of his cup. “My parents are dead,” he told her in a flat voice. “They died when I was four so I have little or no memory of them. I was a care home kid and I was fostered out from time to time.”

“I’m sorry,” she said and he shrugged.

“It’s just the way it was. My parents were heroin addicts and they both died of an overdose. Because of it all, I don’t even like taking aspirin for a headache.” He gave her a little smile at her shocked face. “I can delete your number if you want?”

“No,” she replied firmly. “No, don’t. Can I call you Jamie?”

“Yes. I’d better get used to calling you Freya now.”

“It’s a bit pretentious.”

“No.” He smiled. “I like it. I didn’t think Samantha quite suited you.”

“Liz and Amanda came up with the name,” she explained. “I think they got it from the Sex and the City character.”

“I’ve never watched it. Look, if, at any time, you just want to walk away, just do.”

“Why would I just walk away?” she asked. “I’d never just walk away,” she added, realising as she spoke that, from a child, no-one had wanted him. “If we feel that it isn’t working, then, we’ll discuss it like adults. I’d never just walk away,” she said again.

“Thank you.”

“Can I see your apartment?”

“I’m not sure that’s a good idea.”

Her heart sank. “Why?”

“Confession time, Freya. I’ve never wanted to see a client again until you. There’s just something about you and I don’t you what it is – your vulnerability maybe – and the fact that I was the one who took your virginity. But I’m so fucking attracted to you that it’s scaring me and if we went back to the apartment, I know exactly what would happen.”

“But I want that to happen,” she admitted.

“I know you do. And I know you want to make up for lost time, but I don’t want to just fuck you.”

“Oh.”

“Do you want a relationship? Or do you just want sex?” he asked and she stared at him. Couldn’t she have both? “No, you can’t have both. We can either have a proper grown-up relationship, which includes sex. Or we can just meet up to fuck each other. I want to have a relationship with you. I want us to try and get to know each other.” Lifting his cup, he drained it and got up. “Think about it and call me when you make a decision.”

Open-mouthed, she watched as he picked up his newspaper got to his feet and walked away from her.

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The Birthday Present by Lizzy Grey

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He’d been paid to have sex with her. She will never see him again. Or will she?

Recovered from a heart transplant operation, thirty-year-old Freya Thompson is desperate to be rid of her embarrassing virginity and is given a birthday present like no other. A male escort will take her virginity and she can then carry on with the life the new heart has given her.

But ‘Samantha’ isn’t prepared for ‘Simon’ – tall, brown haired, blue eyed, and gorgeous. But even more important than that, he isn’t terrified by her huge scar. He doesn’t treat her like a freak, and she finds herself attracted to him. But he’s a male escort, he’d been paid to have sex with her, and she will never see him again. Or will she?

An Excerpt From Chapter One

The doors opened, he brought her out of the lift and along the corridor to room five hundred and three. Letting her arm go, he reached into his jacket’s inside pocket, extracted the key card and inserted it into the slot.

“After you,” he said, as the door swung open.

“Thank you.” She went in, feeling a flicker of disappointment at just how ordinary the room was. The carpet was beige, the bedcovers were beige and so was the furniture and curtains.

“I hope you like beige,” he said, closing the door.

“It is very beige,” she replied, forcing a smile.

“Would you like a drink?” He gestured towards the mini bar.

She should have had a few drinks long before this but it was far too late now. “No, thank you, but you go ahead if you want.”

He shook his head. “No, I’m fine, thanks. Look, Samantha. I know you’re feeling awkward, so if you don’t want to go ahead with this…”

“No.” Without thinking, she’d grabbed his arm and stared down at her hand in horror, before quickly letting him go. “Sorry. No, I do.”

“Okay, but if at any time you want to stop, you just have to say so.”

“I will.”

“Good. Now,” he added in a lighter tone. “Can I see your scar?”

Putting her handbag on a chair beside the door to the ensuite bathroom, she reached under her arm for the zip of her black dress and slowly lowered it. Sliding the dress down and off her arms, she let it fall to the floor and stepped out of it. He could only be horrified by the scar which extended from just above her navel to her cleavage and completely detracted from the black bra, panties and stay-up stockings ensemble Amanda and Liz had persuaded her to wear. His eyes widened a little and she cringed.

“It’s horrible, I know, I’m sorry.” Bending down, she reached for her dress.

“No.” She felt a hand on her shoulder and she straightened up. “No, it’s not horrible. Let me see.” She stood while he ran a forefinger down the scar until it reached her bra. “Can I undo it?” he asked and she nodded, feeling his hands at the hooks and eyes. The bra opened and he slid it gently down her arms before dropping it onto the chair. His finger returned to the scar and he traced it all the way down between her breasts. “I have a scar, as well, but it’s a bit pathetic – appendix – when I was twelve.”

“Can I see?”

Nodding, he opened his suit jacket and shrugged it off before laying it on the arm of the chair. He opened his shirt buttons, then undid his trousers, and showed her the small scar. “You can touch it if you like?”

She smiled and ran her own forefinger along his scar. “Did it hurt?”

“Well, it almost burst so, yes. But it must have been nothing compared to this.” He touched her own scar between her breasts again, before sliding his hand under her left breast and running a thumb over the nipple. It sent an electric shock through Freya’s body and she gasped, feeling blood rushing to her face. “Don’t be embarrassed,” he said softly. “Touch me, if you want?”

“Okay.” Pushing his shirt off his shoulders, he let it drop to the floor and she felt him watch her hands exploring his chest. He clearly worked out as his pectoral muscles were toned and she encircled his nipples with her fingers, fighting an urge to lick them, before tracing a line of hair down to his waist. “Can I?” she whispered, indicating his trousers, and he nodded. She pushed them down, uncovering white boxer shorts and pushed them down, too. His cock, springing out of the boxer shorts, startled her. Bloody hell, he was hard already. How? She didn’t exactly have a supermodel’s body. Her mouth formed a questioning ‘O’ as she looked from it up to his face.

“You did this,” he told her, taking her hand and running her fingers along its length. It was flattering to be told that but, no doubt, he said it to every woman he slept with. “There’s just something about a beautiful woman in stockings. Sit in the chair.”

She did as she was told, sitting on top of his clothes and he knelt down reaching for her panties. Lifting her hips, he eased them down her legs and over her black high heeled court shoes before gently easing her legs apart. Oh, God. She tried to swallow but her mouth was dry as he bent forward.

Feeling his warm breath on her pussy lips, she sucked in her own breath, as his tongue pushed between them and began to explore. Another electric shock began shooting through her body as he licked then sucked strongly on her clit and it began to throb. Her hips started thrusting into his face of their own accord but he just kept sucking. Fuck. This was just too much, too intense. Her back arched violently and he was forced to hold her down as she moaned and then yelled incoherently before collapsing back onto the chair, panting, her body drained.

When she opened her eyes, he was kneeling on one knee, watching her. His erection seemed even bigger and he looked from her down to it and then back up at her, clearly noting her interest.

“Are you okay?” he asked and she nodded.

“Did I hurt you? I think I might have pulled your hair.”

“No.” He lowered his eyes and she followed them. Her legs were still wide open and she found herself not caring, just wanting him inside her. “But I need to do something with my cock,” he added, stroking its length. “Want to help me?”

“Yes.” She dragged her eyes away from it and he smiled.

“Good. Take those shoes off but leave the stocking on.”

So he liked stockings, did he? “Okay.” She slipped the shoes off before getting up, her clit still throbbing and hoping her legs would hold her. They did, and he picked up his jacket, taking a packet of condoms out of the inside pocket. Extracting one, and opening the foil package, he turned around so she could see exactly what he was doing. He rolled the condom on before pinching room into the tip. “Shall I..?” She motioned to the bed and he nodded. Without pulling back the bedcovers, she climbed onto the bed and lay down. Following her, he propped himself up on an elbow before leaning over her.

Expecting him to kiss her large breasts, she was astonished when he kissed the length of her scar first then licked and pulled at her nipples. Giving a little grunt, he lifted himself over her and she opened her legs for him. He lowered himself so his weight rested on his forearms before settling between her thighs, and she felt the tip of his cock resting against the entrance to her pussy.

“You okay?” he asked and she heard the effort to control himself in his voice.

“Yes.” She ran her hands over his shoulders and down his arms. “Yes, I’m fine.”

He nodded and she felt him press forward, slowly entering her. She tried not to tense but it was impossible not to because he felt enormous. She let out an embarrassingly loud yelp as he pushed further into her and she fought hard to relax and accept the huge cock filling her pussy.

“Sorry,” he whispered and she gave a dismissive shake of her head.

She felt him withdraw a little and push into her again, and then, again and again, pushing further into her each time. She gasped as more electric shocks raced through her body as he continued pulling back and pushing forward, his cock hitting an ultra-sensitive spot deep inside her pussy. He was breathing heavily now, his eyes closed and his face drawn tight with concentration.

“Faster,” she urged, and he began to thrust into her more quickly. An orgasm ripped through her as his cock hit the spot over and over again. He was groaning now and she moved to meet his thrusts before arching her back with a shrill cry as his body stiffened then jerked against hers.

Withdrawing from her, he lay beside her on the bed and all she could hear for a few moments was air being pulled desperately into their lungs.

“Are you all right?” he asked.

“Yes.”

“You sure?” He rolled onto his side, hoisted himself up onto an elbow, and she saw him gazing anxiously down at her. “I didn’t hurt you?”

“No.”

“Good.” His blue eyes travelled down her scar, he seemed to be fascinated by it, and she moved uncomfortably. Well, he had done The Deed and she wasn’t a virgin anymore. Should she go now? Or wait a couple of minutes? “I thought I might have,” he murmured, smoothing his fingers around and over her nipples. They were sensitive and it made her gasp. “You like that.” He smiled and bent his head. He pulled at one with his lips, making her moan and he moved up to her lips.

Freya felt the electric shock pulse through her body again when their lips touched and he slid his tongue inside to caress hers. He explored her mouth gently but thoroughly, she responded hesitantly with her own tongue and he rewarded her with a groan. He pulled away and came back, clasping her top lip between his and running his tongue along the edge. He did the same with the bottom then sucked it grunting softly. She reached for his cock, finding it surprisingly heavy and began rubbing her thumb around and over the tip, just as his fingers had done with her nipples.

“No.” He broke away from her, breathing hard, and got off the bed.

“I’m sorry.” She sat up, blood pumping into her face, as he went to the dressing table and leant heavily on it. What had she done wrong? Had he been paid only to have sex with her once? “I’m really sorry.”

“Would you like a drink?” he asked breathlessly, glancing at her, then quickly turning away. “Or a cup of tea or coffee? There’s a kettle over there.” The thought of a cup of tea sounded nice but ridiculous at the same time. He was probably asking to avoid any embarrassment but it wasn’t working. She’d clearly done something to agitate him and she simply wanted to get dressed and run. “I don’t know about you, but I’d love a cup of tea.”

“A cup of tea. Yes. Thank you.”

“Good. I won’t be a moment.” He went into the ensuite bathroom, returning a couple of minutes later dressed in a white towelling bathrobe, and laid a second robe across the bottom of the bed for her. He checked the electric kettle for water then switched it on. Reaching for the bathrobe, she slid off the bed and put it on before joining him at the kettle. “Green tea or?” He held the teabag up. “Breakfast tea?”

“Green tea, please.”

“I think I will, too.” He put a teabag into each of the cups. “Milk and sugar?”

“Neither, thank you.”

The kettle clicked off and he poured the water over the teabags, left them to brew for a couple of minutes then lifted the teabags out with a spoon. He stirred the steaming liquid before passing her one of the cups and saucers.

“Thank you.” She sat on the edge of the bed. “I’ll drink this and then I’d better go.”

“Yes, it’s getting late and your friends are waiting.”

“Oh.”

“I saw them in the foyer on our way to the lift,” he explained.

“You’re not—” she began.

“Offended that they came with you and checked me out first?” he finished. “No, not at all. I’m glad they did. You can never be too careful.”

“No.” She took a sip of the scalding tea before putting the cup and saucer on one of the bedside cabinets. It was time to leave. Retrieving her bra and panties from the chair then her shoes and dress from the floor, she got dressed. Straightening up, she glanced at him, but he was standing at the window with his back to her and she reached for her handbag. Bloody hell, could she possibly feel any more uncomfortable? “Simon,” she called and he turned. “Thank you.” Going to him, she reached up and kissed his cheek, feeling him flinch. She quickly backed away, her stomach constricting in mortification.

“Not at all.” He gave her a smile which didn’t reach his eyes. “It was good to meet you, Samantha. Take care of yourself.”

“I will.” Get out, she ordered herself. Just go. Hurrying to the door, she opened it. “You too, Simon.”

Stepping out into the corridor, she closed the door behind her and covered her face with her hands. Like she’d feared, she’d completely freaked him out, but at least The Deed was done.

The Birthday Present AMAZON LARGE 1

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