Release Your Inner Vixen: Male Escorts for Hire - RP

Elissa Artis



“All in all,” I address the class of juniors around me, my stack of graded papers in hand. “Your papers were very well done. I can’t judge your creativity in short stories like these, but is there a plot? Is there a moral to be learned? Are your characters people we can grow to love?”

Someone groans somewhere behind the sea of faces. “Can we get back to grammar Nazi stuff? This writing thing sucks.”

I find Jesse Harris, the class act-up, reclining in the back. “Ah, but Mr. Harris, I’m trying to expand your minds. A story about an assassin wasn’t exactly what I had in mind, but your structure and creativity showed promising skill. In all honesty, writing could be right up your alley.”

Receiving such a compliment has his cheeks turning pink when the entire class turns in their seats to catch a glimpse. Jesse’s demeanor changes from relaxed to standoffish. Seeing the warning look I give him, though, the glare dies out and his familiar grin returns. “No thanks, Ms. Artis. I’ve got my sights set on male stripper.”

Inwardly, I sigh. The class laughs. Smirking, I begin passing the papers back out to their respective owners. “Always aim high, Mr. Harris.”

My phone buzzes from the top of my desk, and my smile disappears. Mark had backed off for a while, a good year in fact, and now he’s back. And he’s determined to worm his slimy way back into my good graces.

Unfortunately, when I walk in on my boyfriend of ten years screwing the brains out of our neighbor in our own bed, forgiveness is off the table. Did I mention I’d been engaged to the sorry piece of shit? That I had once loved him more than I’d loved anyone? Well, I had. I’d torn off the engagement ring, the one that suddenly seemed to be cutting off all circulation in my finger when I’d caught him stark naked on top of her, and thrown it at him. “That promise?” I’d barked, seething with psychotic rage. “You can shove it up your ass!”

Wasn’t the best I could have done, sure. But while he was struggling to right himself, I was already out the door with a butcher knife in hand that I’d grabbed on my way out of the kitchen and slashing his doors all to hell, channeling my inner Carrie Underwood for all she was worth. Did I mention he owned a Mustang Shelby GT? Beautiful car. Or, it once was.

Once I got a hold of every window and slashed dents into his precious ride enough to calm my anger, well, the car looked terrible. So did Mark, standing there on the porch steps, his face ashen and eyes sad. And not for me. All for his precious GT.

I’d tossed the knife back at him, not really caring if it planted itself home right into his cheating heart, and I left. I never looked back. I built back up. I’ve been getting over the heartache, the betrayal, and I’m on top of my game. I had more than enough money to support myself, and that’s just what I did. I bought myself a nice home, I have good friends I can turn to when life is too much to take, and I have a loving mother that’s always there to listen.

All was well, really, until Mark started calling again. It seems my glare is still set on my phone when the loud ringing of the dismissal bell pulls me away from my thoughts. I watch as the students pile out, my last class of the day wrapped up and over with, and I make my way back to my desk. I check my phone, and sure enough, I have two missed messages from Mark. I delete them as soon as I open my inbox. I haven’t read a single once since the first five, and that’s just how it’ll stay.

Another beep comes in, and before I get the chance to smash my phone into the wall, I catch Valerie’s name scrolling across the screen.

My spidey senses are tingling. Methinks you need to get hammered, love. –Val

I grin. My bestie, the all-knowing woman I’ve known since our sandbox years, has a knack for knowing when I need to let loose. I toss my bag over my shoulder and fire off a text back:

Let's meet @ Jared’s in 20. I’m going to need the alibi.

Val holds the card underneath her palm, as she sits out on the patio. She was shorts and a tank, fedora straw hat on her head. She takes a sip of her chardonnay, when her friend finally arrives.

"Brats giving you a hard time today...?" She asks, smirking and opens the bottle next to her. Sets a glass and pours some wine for her friend, it was a sunny day in the city.

I grin. "Chardonnay? You know the path to my heart, Val."

I take a sip and let the smooth taste flood my mouth. This is exactly what I needed. "Brats aren't the problem. I love those kids. It's Mark and his incessant texts that are the issue. I'm thinking of changing my number. Or moving to Alaska."

Val looks at her,"Why does he keep texting you anyways? He's put you through enough misery..., let me talk to the bastard for you then." Holds out her left hand for the phone.

I snort. "Talk to him all you want, but he won't stop stalking me. His sister warned me he's back in town from his little trip with the neighbor whore. We both know it's only time before he seeks me out."

Val looks at her friend, sad for her. "He's being a dick all over again, don't you have that upcoming event as well? That you both agreed to go to?"

"Before you answer, with what I know is yes and how you much rather listen to Jersey Shore kids pronounce words wrong all night, I have a little present for you..." She says, putting down the card.

It's a business card that says Release Your Inner Vixen: Male Escorts for Hire. Their is a number and website.

My eyes go wide at the card she's handed me. "Male escorts? Seriously?"

Wow, I practically shouted that. I risk a quick glance around me. An elderly woman is looking at me funny. She's definitely not impressed. My blush returning, I shake my head. "Look, I know it's been a very sexless, mundane year for me, but I'm not paying a man for... that."

Mark was my first, my only, since we started dating when I was fifteen. I've never really entertained the idea of another man. It isn't like the sex with Mark was up to par with what I'd always imagined it to be, but I was also a loyal lover. And look how that turned out.

I slap the card down on the table. "And what does a male prostitute have to do with the brain tumor foundation event? Mark's parents are the ones who founded it. Maybe he won't even show this time."

Fat chance, because he knows I'll be there. I've come every year since a brain tumor is what killed my father. Grimacing, I admit to myself that Valerie is right. I just don't know exactly what point she's trying to drive home.

Val looks at her,"It's not what you think...,look you need a date. Bring one of these guys along to the event, show Mark you are over him. Instead of meeting someone and wasting time, you can hire a guy...he will show up,bring you there and that's it."

"Let's go shopping..."She said, smiling and opens her mac book that she brought. She looks at her friend again, "You know I'm right...it's not a ridiculous idea. I was decorating Cameron Diaz penthouse last week, here in New York. She mentioned it and also a name in particular..let me look him up."

She types Christian into a search engine on the website and up comes his profile. She shows it to her friend, "A lot of women do this, you don't have to have sex with him..it's a business like any other."

Paying for a date? How low have I stooped this past year to earn this? But Val looks at me with her big, green eyes and I cave. I'll look. I won't go through with any of it, but I'll look.

I scoot closer to her and stare at the screen. A biography is staring back at me, showing me words like Louisiana, the state he hails from, bits and pieces of sports he's played, but Val scrolls past all of it until we reach the pictures.

I'm about to open my mouth to complain, to tell her I'd like to know a little more about the man first, but the picture stops me cold.

Hot damn, he's magnificent. His hair is dark, almost black in color, perfectly styled, as is the tailored Armani suit he's wearing, and above the strong, hard, sculpted jawline, he's got a smirk that just oozes confidence. And his eyes? They're as blue as an ocean, except more. They're so vibrant, so eye-catching, that I feel my willpower slowly shriveling into nothing. I have to hand it to this Christian: he's a god. And if I'm being honest with myself, showing up at the event with this man on my arm might just get Mark to back off. Mark doesn't hold a candle in comparison to this man. Come to think of it, no one does. His beauty is unparallelled. It's almost not human.

I bite the inside of my cheek and huff out a breath. "Eight hundred for just two hours?" I sputter, catching the list of prices beneath his photo. "What is he, Jesus reincarnated?"

Val looks at her,"Just imagine...showing up with this guy, everyone will give you a high five. Moving from Mark to him, you have been so...depressed lately and don't deny that. You should have some fun, this way the fun is guaranteed...this guy also is really hot."

I sigh. "Okay, I'll pay the eight hundred. Two hours. That's enough time to take him, show him off, and have Mark kiss my ass goodbye."

I can't take my eyes off the picture. It would be a shame not to sleep with this man. I'm pretty sure it's a crime. But that's the hormones talking. No sex in over a year tends to do that to a woman. I cross my legs beneath the table. I'm a good girl. I don't have sex with men I don't even have a connection with. This is a business transaction. I can do business. I can do professional.

"No sex," I stress, waggling my finger in front of Valerie, who's got a smirk on her face that begs to differ. "I mean it! I'll find another man, preferably one I love who won't cheat. This is just me tugging on Mark's insecure jealousy strings."

I appraise the photograph. Again. "We could have had worse fruit for the picking, that's for sure."

Val smiles,"Best thing...this guy is a professional, no feelings are involved. He does what you want him to." She passes over her cell phone, "Just try it...show the bastard up and what he's missing."

Casey Taylor aka Christian


Casey woke up to an alarm going off on his phone, as he reached out for it he felt a piece of fabric on his hand. He opened his eyes, looked up to see a beautiful woman. She had short blonde hair, blue eyes and holding two coffee mugs.

He sat up and looked at the coffee,"Bringing me free coffee...?" She smiled as, she set his down on a bed side table. "It's the least I could do, considering..."

He stood up, completely naked and looked at his phone. Texts from his boss, another from a client. He looks round to the woman, who was in a silk robe. "Last night, was the only freebie you get, you know that."

She sits on the bed, watching him get dressed. "I know...,I appreciate you coming over. I know I broke the rules but it was a bad weekend with Jeff." She sighs, Casey looked back to her.

"Talk to a therapist, I thought you were going for couples counselling?" He asks, finally drinking the coffee. She shrugs,"He thinks it's a stupid idea, doesn't believe in it..."

"He's stupid to give up on you..." Casey said, heading to go have a shower. "You have to say nice things to me."

Casey looked back, "No, I don't...I didn't charge you for anything. I do have prior commitments to get to, do you mind if I use the shower?" He asks, she nods,"Of course."

Minutes later, he comes back out and gets dressed. "Lisa, you're an amazing woman..." as he reached the front door to leave, she was behind him. She smiles and he looks at her, she pulls up 3000.

"It's...I offered to come over." He protests but she moves her hand around, dips the money in his back pocket and looks at him, "You earned every penny..." She says,with another smile.

He looks at her,"If you insist..." kissing her hand and leaves the house, gets into his car and smirks slightly. He drives off, heading into a building downtown New York. He parks underneath it and goes into the main lobby.

He goes up the elevator and stops at a floor, getting off and opens big glass doors. A reception smiles and greets him, "Christian....what brings you here today?" He stops,looking at her.

"Angela here...? She was her usual charming self and asked me to come in." He answered, the receptionist called the boss and nodded, looking to him,"Go on in..." Casey looks back, "Love the scent you're wearing by the way..."

He walks off, heads into a big office that is completely white. A woman turns around in a chair, watching Casey as he sits down. "You may be interested to know....you're very popular this month. I already have you booked solid..., another request just came into today."

Casey looks at her, Angela had long black hair and almost gold skin. She was curvy in all the right places and whenever she looked at a man, he would immediately bow down to her every request.

"I aim to please..., tell me about this new client?"He asks, she gives him a folder of her name and when to meet,"Saturday at 1...,at Le Rosa's, one second." He looks at a calendar on his phone, "Has to be moved till 3, I am seeing Client 2451 the night before and..well, it's a long night with her."

Angela nods, also seeing the date. "Of course, I will inform the new client of the time change..."

"Says this girl is a grammar teacher? Can't say I have gone out with one of those." He admits, laughing slightly. Angela looks at him,"Is their anything else you needed...?"

He looks back, "Nothing..., have a good one." He walks out and exits the building. He gets to his apartment, which is very modern and art on the walls. He changes into a new suit, ready by 5 and is in front of town home minutes later.

He is in a limo that pulls up and another client steps in, "You look remarkable.." He says,leaning over and kissing her neck. The woman blushes and they drive off to their date

Funny that the arranged meeting should take place at a French restaurant. Being that my mother is French, I speak the language fluently and I know French food when I see it.

The homemade baguette isn't bad.

Maybe everything tastes off because I'm off. I'm actually doing this. I'm meeting a male escort. I'm meeting a man whose entire job is to swoon and seduce women. And here I am, the awkward high school English teacher who's only ever been with one man, about to meet someone whose experience probably tops Gene Simmons' himself.

My knee is thumping under the table, twitching uncontrollably, and my palms are starting to sweat. I wipe them off on a nearby napkin and smooth my skirt down my legs. I'm as nervous as a teenager on her first date.

Just as I set down my bread and begin fiddling with my glass of wine, I see a tall figure approach. Christian. He's even bigger now that I see him in person. His arms strain against the material of his suit, his chest is broad, he's cleanly shaven and downright delicious looking, and he smiles down at me. This isn't the smirk from the website. This is a genuine smile. A down to earth, warm, approachable smile. Instantly, I turn to jelly. But I'm considerably less anxious.

I hold out my hand. "Thank you for meeting me, Mr.-"

Wow. Just now I think how lame it sounds that I don't even know his last name. The website didn't supply one. I'm guessing he doesn't want it known. Hell, I wouldn't either. Before I can change my words, to sound like less of an idiot, his hand takes hold of mine, gently palming it, rough hands over my smooth skin, and he pulls my hand to his lips. He kisses the small expanse of skin, his lips ever as soft as they looked on the site, and I blush ten shades of red. No man in the modern day could pull off a hand kiss, but Christian owns it. He could do this all day and my hand would be as happy as a clam.

Suddenly, I remember. Right, his name. I smile a belated smile and gesture for him to take a seat. "Rather, what I guess I should have said, is it's a pleasure, Christian." I look into his eyes and curse myself for it. This no-sex rule I put on myself is going to go through the window if I keep staring.

"Christ, and I thought your eyes were photoshopped," I blurt. Oh, God, did I really say that? I bring my hand to my mouth. "Let's start over. My name is Elissa Artis."

Casey left another clients house, of course some profit went to the agency and he gets the rest. The women some times give him a little extra on the side, a new suit or something a man might like, they like to treat him as they would a boyfriend or husband.

He gets on a casual suit, with no tie and heads off to meet a new client. The agency has the client send in a photo as well, he thought she was cute. Curly hair, one of his favorites.

He walks into the restaurant and the picture doesn't do her justice, she is very beautiful from what he can see. Perfect figure. He kisses her hand and smiles to the words coming out of her mouth, she's a newbie.

He holds out the chair for her and she sits, he takes his across from her. "It is a pleasure to meet you, I hope you like the restaurant but judging by your name...it sounds french?"

I smile at him. Comfortable territory. "You're good. Yes, my mother is French. She wanted to stick to her roots. So much so, I was only allowed to speak French in the house when I was growing up. You learn pretty quickly that way."

Too many words, I scold myself. But he's an escort. He gets paid to listen to women blabber.

I offer him a small smile. "I hope you don't mind. I got here a little early and ordered a wine, but you're free to get whatever you choose."

He smiles back, and repeats something in french which can translate for her to order whatever she wants. Her smile widens.

"I have spent some time in Paris, the wine you did pick is very good." He pours some for himself and tops her glass up. A waiter approaches and ladies go first, Casey orders his own.

He looks at her, how she looks at him and he is used to it. "I take it...this is your first time doing anything like this, do you have any questions before we get into more details about what you want me to do?"

I snort. Then I curse myself. Very ladylike. "That's me. First timer." I take a sip of wine before I can say anything else stupid.

"Christian, before we begin any of this, the only question I have is when to pay you, and I ask that you're available next Saturday evening. I can assure you that while I have nothing against what you do and I'm sure you'd be excellent at it given all the practice, I won't be requesting any... sexual services."

Yeah, that was plenty stupid. I've practically just told him that I want to, but I won't. I find myself blushing again.

He looks at her and almost laughs into his wine glass, putting it down and does actually chuckle. "Excuse me..." he pats his mouth with a napkin, "I guess humor is one of your strongest qualities..."

He has never really laughed like that with a client, this was new. "I assure Ms.Artis, I am to do whatever you feel comfortable, if you require me only for a date which involves going somewhere in public, that is what we will do. I want you to feel comfortable or else their is no point in this at all."

He takes out a list of prices, "How long is the event? I am sure you looked at the prices online and it varies, two hours is 800 but if it's a long event and you want me there for longer. I can probably give you a deal of 1000. I will have to talk it over with the company but considering you're a first timer and you made me laugh, I feel like giving something back."

Funny? Well, I hadn't intended to be, but I'll take it. I sigh in relief. He does know how to put a woman at ease.

"I appreciate your generosity, but two hours is all the time I feel we'll need."

I should probably go into why I need him. We can't go into this blind if I want my end result. I set my glass down and tuck a strand of unruly hair behind my ear. Pushing my glasses further up on my nose, I think of what to say.

"I hate to go into the deep things, but you should know that I'm going to an event that's very important to me. I do it every year. Now I know my ex will be there. I caught him cheating a year ago, and recently he's been bombarding me with texts and phone calls in an effort to take me back. Basically, I'm not interested. I need a man on my arm when I show up, a man Mark couldn't hold a candle to, and I need enough chemistry for him to realize I'm off limits. I want him off my back and I have a feeling you'll more than do the trick."

He looks at her and all, listening. She stops finally and he speaks,"Your mouth is quite captivating, if I can be honest. Thank you for telling me the reason but it's really not required, I am to do whatever you want. Literally."

He gives her a look, hoping she understands. He looks at her, "So, two hours...require a deposit of $400.00 now and the rest at the end of the event, to assure and signing of course."

He puts down a contract.

My mouth is captivating? That's a new one. Mark wasn't one for compliments. Not since the first few years together. Any other compliment like beautiful or gorgeous or perfect came only when I was lying naked underneath him. Still, staring across the table at Christian, I feel my skin heating several degrees. No matter that he's an escort who says this to every woman he comes across. It's been a year, and I'll take any compliment I can get.

I look down at the contract. Well, that's professional. He slides a pen across the table and I take it. I scan the lines of text, all words I can agree to without much effort, and scribble my signature across the bottom.

I reach into my purse to find the envelope tucked inside. "I'd already prepared the eight hundred for this meeting just to be thorough, but I can do the four now and four later if that's how it's done."

I count out the four hundred dollar bills that make up half of the stack and tuck the rest inside my change purse. I slide him the envelope across the table.

He takes the money and puts in his own envelope for it, "So, what is the event...black tie?" She nods. They eat and all, "Tell me about yourself...? A grammar teacher, wish my teachers looked like you."

He eats some of his sandwich.

I smile. "You're very sweet." I take a bite of my panini and swallow it down before continuing. "English, grammar, creative writing. I really cover everything. In the age of texting, so many people forget how to form a proper word or sentence. Grammar is shot to hell. My kids, they know their grammar. I just have to get it out of them. I have wonderful students. Sometimes I feel they're teaching me more than I can ever teach them."

I wave my fork in his direction. Either it's the wine or his easygoing demeanor, but I'm feeling more comfortable by the minute.

"What about you? What do you like to do?"

He really listens and finds her different, most of the women he escorts have money to spare. Divorcing their husbands or still married half the time, they don't work and talk about work the way she does. He respects that.

"I enjoy art, going to galleries and car racing, since I was a kid I have been working on cars or watching them. The day I purchased the car of my dreams, it's definitely an accomplished feeling."