“Hello Lisa, it’s Richard Jones from Texas Financial.”

I recognized his voice before he said his name.

“Good Morning Rich, how was your trip to Salzburg?”

“The work part was productive and the leisure exquisite. I love Austria in autumn. Plus, I was lucky to be there during one of the Mozart festivals. That was spectacular.”

Not your usual Texan: Richard probably didn’t even own a cowboy hat or a pick-up. Of all my many clients over the years, he was one of my favorites. He was tall and handsome and always impeccably dressed. His salary at one of Texas’s largest trading firms afforded him tailored suits, world travel, and luckily for me, the services of Anima Rising which he called ‘the finest brothel since Casa Rosa in Rio.’ Richard had always been respectful of my girls and me.

“I bought you a gift in Salzburg and I wanted to check with you to see how your calendar looks.”

“Richard, have I ever not made room for you.”

“Well, there was that one time last September,” he said.

“I know, those Goddamned Republican conventions! All my girls worked double duty that week,” I said. “But that was unusual. We’d love to see you, the sooner, the better.”

“Next week, hmmmm, how about Thursday evening, say around nine o’clock,” he said.

“Thursday it is,” I said. “Anything I need to know in advance?”

“No,” he said. “Same thing. I’d like that new girl to join us. What’s her name…Trish?”

“Trisha,” I said. “She’ll be glad. She likes you.”

“She’s beautiful – so pale and soft looking. So, her and you and Monica and Ellie,” he said. “That will be a beautiful set-up. I’ll just come there if it’s okay, I love that media room you had built.”

“I had it built just for you Richard,” I said stretching the truth a little, but he certainly had inspired it.


“See you next week Lisa, and thank you,” he said.

I called Trisha, Monica, and Ellie and asked them to come down to my office.

“I just got a call from Richard Jones,” I said. “He’s coming in next week for an appointment.”

“Cool,” said Monica flipping her silky black hair. “He’s my fave. He’s a hunk.”

“Is he that really built guy with dark hair – the one who wears a Rolex?” Trisha asked.

“That’s him,” I said.

“He looks like Pierce Bronson,” Trisha said.

“In the past, it’s just been me and Monica and Ellie, but this time he’s asked for you too Trisha,” I said.

“Ooooo la la,” said Ellie in her husky southern accent, “he likes your big plump ass.”

“I don’t blame him,” said Monica. “I like that ass myself.”

“Ya’ll go to lunch at Pedro’s. Ellie, I want you and Monica to prep Trisha about the session,” I instructed. “On the way back, stop by Stage Affects and get some blue lights for the pars. We need about a dozen in case any burn out.”

“Where’s Stage Affects?” asked Ellie.

“It’s two blocks west of Pedro’s. I’ve got an account. When you get there just ask for Steve and tell him what we need and he’ll go get it.”

“Can we use your account at Pedro’s too?” asked Monica.

“Okay,” I said, “but no alcohol.”

Last year I had the roomy attic of Anima Rising converted into a media room. A few of my clients liked to “stay in” and have a drink and watch porn or have a personal strip tease but more than anyone, I knew Richard would like it the most. It resembled a miniature theatre. There was a platform-like stage with a purple velvet curtain, lights and surround sound. Sometimes the girls and me made popcorn and watched old movies up there. Ellie loved to put in Casablanca and rib Trisha about having a sob fest when Ingrid Bergman leaves Bogie. The lights were professionally installed – a grid of eight cams across the front. When someone was on the stage, and the lights were on, they couldn’t see the “audience” at all.

I trudged upstairs early Thursday to make sure everything would be ready for Richard’s visit.

“Henry,” I called out the window to my maintenance man, “meet me upstairs would you? I’m in the attic – the media room.”

I heard the back door close.

“Oh, bring one of the stools from the bar, okay?”

A few minutes later, Henry walked in with the stool.

“Hey Henry,” I said. “Put the stool on the stage about six feet from the edge. Make sure it’s in the middle though, I mean side to side, in the middle – I want to make sure I can get the lights aimed right.”

“Like this?” Henry asked.

“Move it back just a little further,” I said. “I think there’s a ladder back there behind the curtain. We need to put blue bulbs in all those pars.”

When Henry came down from the ladder, I had him sit on the stool and turned the house lights down and the stage lights up.

“Can you see me?” I asked sitting out front in the middle seat.

“Can’t see nothing, Lisa,” he said. “Can’t even tell there’s seats out there.”

“Perfect,” I said. “Thanks Henry, that’s it.”

At nine, Richard rang the bell and was escorted to my office.

“Richard Darling,” I said. “You’re so handsome. Austria must agree with you.” Trisha was right, he really did look like Pierce Bronson.

He pulled a black velvet box from his coat pocket.

“Hi Lisa,” he said sitting on the settee and handing me the box.

“What’s this?”

“I just couldn’t resist,” he said. “I know of your passion for tourmaline and it’s rare to find it in red. There were some dealers from Bangkok at the hotel I was at in Salzburg so I got a great deal.”

Inside the box was a gorgeous necklace with a tourmaline pendant. It shimmered in the light. I was very touched by his generosity; tourmaline was very expensive.

“Thank you Richard, that is so sweet.” I said.

“Well,” he said, “it is our three year anniversary.”

“Has it been that long?” I said.

“And for all the girls I have these,” he said and handed me a Chamber Shops shopping bag.

Inside were three china teacups and saucers. The bottom read “birthplace of Mozart.”

This guy was a prince. It was hard to believe he wasn’t married. He once told me that as long as he could keep coming to Anima Rising, he had no need to get married.

“I’ve got lots of wives,” he had said, “and they’re all beautiful and independent.”

His job was so demanding. I don’t think he wanted to invest energy into a marriage. He was too busy investing his money. He was supposedly one of the richest men in Texas. He definitely looked it. I noticed his manicured hands.

“They’ll love these,” I said kissing him on the cheek. “Why don’t we go upstairs and have a drink and then later the other girls will join us.”

Richard was very still on the stage. The hanging grid bathed him in a blue haze of light. Except for this the room was dark. Trisha and Monica sat behind him. They were completely nude.

“Stand up,” said Ellie who sat beside me in the middle of the theater. “Walk toward the edge of the stage.”

Richard did what he was told.

“Rub your cock. I want to see it bulge in your pants,” I said.

“Harder,” said Ellie. “No, don’t unzip it yet, rub it through your pants.”

Richard started stroking harder on his Brioni slacks.

“Let’s see it, we want to see the big wad you keep in that fancy suit,” I said.

He struggles to stay composed as he played with himself in front of us.

“Squeeze it,” said Ellie. “Squeeze it while you rub it. Spread your legs apart…more. That’s good. Step back about three feet, but don’t stop stroking your dick.”

Richard now had a huge bulge in his pants. I was sure his cock was as hard as a brick.

“C’mon out girls,” I said to Trisha and Monica. Of all the women in my house, these two had the most gorgeous bodies. Trisha had size D breasts and her skin was pale and unblemished. She was plump and voluptuous. Her body seemed to scream – “I was born to be fucked.” Monica was from Korea and beside Trisha, her elegant small body reminded me of a geisha. Her dark hair tumbled around her shoulders. Two lights, already programmed, spotlighted them as they took their places on footstools in front of Richard. Their nakedness shone in the blue light like an erotic fairy tale. Their heads were level with Richard’s stroking. Looking at Trisha and Monica, his motions became frantic. They were good. I was sure they were doing as they had been instructed and were facing him with ruby red lips, which formed a perfect O. One side step in either direction and Richard could unzip and have his choice of which one to fuck in the mouth.

“Stop,” Ellie commanded. “Unzip it. Show us what a big cock you have.”

“Fuck,” I said. “You’re huge. I’d hate to have to take you up the ass.”

“Okay,” I said. “Jerk it. Faster. Faster. Faster.”

Richard was beating off with a fury.

“I bet you can’t wait to feel those wet red lips on your cock. I bet you can’t wait to have your big balls licked and sucked.” Ellie said.

Richards’s cock was so big he could barely get his hand around it.

“Take your other hand and squeeze those bulging balls,” I said.

“Squeeze it harder,” said Ellie. “Harder! Beat that meat.”

The strobe light came on and light fragments flickered wildly around the room. Richard moaned and holding his cock like a hose, turned first to Trisha. Looking at her open mouth and beautiful tits, he jerked himself off like a milking machine. He let out a low roar and sprayed her breasts with his creamy hot cum. Then he turned and bathed Monica’s face. His jerking slowed as the last drop of cock juice fell to the floor. Then Monica and Trisha knelt before him and together licked and cleaned his cock and balls. Monica lapped up some of his cum from the floor.

Nice touch, I thought.

We exited by the side door and left Richard alone in the theater to dress and have a drink.
We wouldn’t see him again until next month. I showed the girls my pendant and gave them their teacups.

“I love that guy,” said Trisha.

“Too bad,” said Ellie. “Everybody knows him and Lisa are secretly married. Ain’t that right Lisa?”

“Sort of,” I said.