Thread: The Proposition ( Mr Quixotic & Xanaphia)

What was the point of having money to burn, if you couldn't use it to purchase things which were not usually available for sale? That was Jake's take on matters, and the concept of fucking a young woman such as the one who now sat next to him not innocent, but one who definitely wasn't accustomed to spreading her legs for money, and appeared to have morals and ethics, was what aroused him. To witness her expressions and demeanour, and experience her hesitations and emotions, as she acquiesced to increasingly debauched acts. Pressured or otherwise, in the end, it would always be her choice. And if she came to enjoy it, so much the better. That would just go to prove Jake's belief that inside every woman lay a slut you just had to encourage her out of hiding. However, he did not explain that, and glossed over the other questions, to take the wallet from his glove compartment. Not that he didn't intend to answer, but because first he wanted to offer further encouragement. The sight of cold, hard cash always had more effect than the mere mention of it it was the same reason he and his buddies never played their poker games with chips, but with the folding green laid out on the table before them with each bet. That made it more exciting, more real, and it was why he knew they'd have enough in their wallets to fulfil his promise if she stayed until morning. It appeared to work, and Jake had already pulled back onto the road and made a turn this time away from Fifth and Broadway, and in the direction of his Penthouse. The clock said 841pm, and the game was due to commence at 9pm. The stockbroker glanced at his passenger as she appeared to struggle with the decision, and had to contain a laugh when she finally accepted. For an hour? The woman really had no concept of what was in store. There'll be five of us, and yes, anytime you like. He'd watched her tap her phone, and assumed she'd texted someone of her whereabouts, or whom she was with, and that hadn't concerned him in the slightest. She'd agreed to his proposal, and that she could be made to agree whatever else they may ask, he had no doubt. If she noticed that he hadn't directly answered the question about pressure being brought to bear, Jake wasn't certain. It's a deal, then. His attention returned to the road and he remained silent for a few minutes to concentrate on the driving. The next time he spoke was not until he'd pulled the Porsche into driveway, parked in a vacant space next to a red Lamborghini, beside which stood a dark-haired man of around forty, 61, with a slim build, and attired in jeans and white buttoned-down shirt. Ah, there's Mark, early as usual. He waved to his friend, then locked his eyes on the young woman, and as he pressed the button to lower his window stated, matter of factly, As for what I mean by show, you'll be dancing for us, which will, of course, entail removing your clothes, then immediately turned away to greet his friend. Mark had bent at the knees, and said hello, but only absently. His gaze was locked on his passenger, and he had a brow raised in curiosity when he brought his eyes back to Jake. Who's this? Jake grinned at his buddy's expression, This is....., then faltered as he realised he didn't know her name. Our entertainment for the evening. Isn't that right? The stockbroker swiveled around to face her, with a smile on his face, then leaned across, placed on hand on her knee, and used the other to unlatch the passenger side door. Why don't you hop out and introduce yourself. Don't go all shy on me now. Her first test. As to what she'd thought about the idea of stripping naked in front of five complete strangers, he hadn't had the opportunity to ask.