The Prostitute

Part 4

While she remained frustrated,Lauren's attention wavered away from the knocking against the door and focused on how she could still see the buldge in Camila's trousers. It took most of her will to look away,and it was as if the prostitute knew what she wanted. She smirked and ran her fingers through her hair, making it messier than it already was."I'll call you later. Dinah gave me your number." Lauren managed to grit out.

Camila nodded her head and grabbed her things."I'll be waiting." She murmerd, her body close to Lauren so she could feel her warmth. Perhaps it was the teasing and her  oversensitive nerves,but Lauren felt weak and light-headed. Camila traced her jaw with her fingertips, until they grazed the actress's bottom lip.

The person outside the door knocked again, louder this time. Camila sighed in defeat and Stepped aside so Lauren could admit them in,or see what they wanted. Outside on the front step was Lauren's housekeeper, Delilah. She blinked and stared between Camila and Lauren."Did I interupt anything?"
"No,of course not." Lauren huffed, and throwing a final glance at her,Camila nodded and left the brownstone without another word. Lauren stepped aside and allowed Delilah in,her cleaning materials in a cart behind her."I forgot you were coming today. I'm sorry."

"It's perfectly alright," the house keeper assured her." But where is Mr. Simpson?"

Lauren released a soft breath. "He's....Out. I'll be in my office when you're done."

Without another word, Lauren retreated behind the oak door of her office. Not even Brad was allowed inside,and Lauren did the cleaning of her sanctuary herself. Along the walls were shelves of books,mostly biographies of famous people. On the lower shelf were Lauren's collection of movies and music. By the window was a small loveseat, a desk with her laptop on it and a pair of speakers. Opting for headphones at the moment, Lauren booted up her computer and eased into her comfortable desk chair and played some music in hopes to calm the ever constant stirring in her gut.

Lauren immersed herself in the symphonic hymns, but they weren't affecting her like they used to. She blamed Camila. The firmness of her body against hers, and the texture of her skin. And that cock...The cock that she had yet to see. Lauren's toes curled at the thought, her palms mindlessly wandered down her stomach, and eventually to the hem of  her skirt.

She gasped and jerked in her seat. She couldn't possibly think about masturbating. Not because it was lewd, she had her fair share of self love for the past couple of months. But to be paying $900 for orgasams still seemed steep in pricing, and Lauren meant to milk Camila for every last drop.

Groaning to herself, Lauren shut off her laptop and paced around the room. She needed to feel cool air and fresh wind,as fresh as one can get in new york city, at least. Lauren grabbed her purse which held her phone and keys. She met Delilah who was in the middle of scouring the kitchen counter. After telling her that she would be out for a while, Lauren left her home and headed towards the direction of the park.

Lauren huffed and tightened her coat around her body. She trudged along the gravel path, sunglasses perched atop her nose, and made her way towards the baseball diamond, where sure enough, a baseball game was being held.

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Delilah with her steel wool in her gloved hands, looked up as soon as she heard the door slam right into it's frame. She waited for a few moments, just standing still, waiting until everything seemed calm. That was when she yanked the rubber gloves off her hands and went upstairs. She gently pushed Lauren's bedroom door open and peered inside. Now that she was sure that she was entirely alone, Delilah walked in and rifled through Lauren's closet, her bathroom, and even under her bed.

With a huff, Delilah straightend up and allowed herself to look around the room incase something or anything was amiss. And there was, on the left bedside table, there used to be a frame of Brad and Lauren, happy and lips touching.

But now, it wasn't there. The entire surface of the desk was empty, no photograph insight. And even on Lauren's side, the photo of Brad she always kept was gone.

Delilah stood up and reached inside her pocket for her phone. "Hello, Miss Beasly? It's Delilah. No, Miss Jauregui
isn't here right now. I have news. Her boyfriend Brad? He's not here, and I just checked the rooms. I think they broke up."

***********************************

Lauren returned to her brownstone before the match ended. She grew to like the red capped team, and not  only because they were the home team, and hoped that they win. In her apartment, Delilah was straightening out the couch cushions. "Thanks for your hard work." Lauren smiled, pulling out the cheque for Delilah's bi-monthly services. "My house is always so much brighter after you've cleaned it."

The house help bit her lip and nodded, accepting the cheque with a dip of her head. "Thank you so much, Miss Jauregui. You're not messy at all, so everything is easy to clean."

The actress chuckled and watched Delilah leave, her door closing behind her. Lauren landed on the soft couch and allowed the peaceful silence of her home to wash over her. She may seem at peace, but the dull throbbing between her legs refused to be forgotten. As much as she wanted to call Camila up and have her nine hundred dollars worth of sex and orgasams, she needed to shower and eat to keep her energy up. She didn't want to allow Camila the delight of watching her, Lauren jauregui, out of breath and limp from pleasure.

Lauren made herself a quick bowl of pasta with mounds of mixed vegetables. She sipped orange juice, and ate in silence, every forkful of tender noodles bringing her closer to that shower,the phone call,and ultimately,closer to feeling Camila again. Dumping her bowl in her dishwasher, Lauren moved slowly. She held off sex for months. A moment or two more would not hurt.

As she sank into the warm, rose scented water in her tub, Lauren allowed her imagination to drift. She wanted to think about herself. Nothing about Brad, her career, or her co-stars. She wanted to float in her heavenly warm bath, filled with tender thoughts and pleasant sensations. At least, until the water cooled down and her skin showed intial signs of wrinkling. Lauren stepped out of the bath, drained the plug,and wrapped herself in her bathrobe. She pulled on a simple attire of a skirt and buttoned down shirt rolled up to her elbows. She could easily call Camila in nothing but her robe, but she did not wish too easy nor too eager.

Lauren took a deep,relaxing breath, just like how her yoga instructor told her to,during times of trepidation. Anxiety or any form of negativity oozed out of her in torrents, as the pads of her finger pressed every digit of Camila's phone number. "Hello, Camila. It's me,Lauren."

"All alone and ready, then?" Lauren could hear the smile in Camila's tone, and oddly enough, Instead of irritating Lauren, it made her smile." I'll be there in a few moments."

Those 'few moments', or so Camila said, were the longest moments Lauren was ever forced to endure. She paced across her living room, her eyes never leaving the clock. Lauren, in her impatience slumped down on the couch and huffed.

And then, a knock sounded out against her front door.

Lauren froze and swallowed hard. This was it. It was time. She rose up, and in careful, even steps, she opened the door and there,standing on her front steps, was Camila. Relief flooded her,yet she did not show it. She had been waiting for so long for orgasmic
Salvation, taking in the form of Camila, that she expected someone else to be knocking at her door at this time of the night. Perhaps a deliveryman,or an insane fan. Either way,now that Camila was here, Lauren allowed herself to relax.

"Are you going to invite me in,or am I catering to your naughty desires tonight by fucking you against your front door?" Camila husked,her body pressing up against Lauren's. The actress moaned softly, but soon cleared her throat, grasped Camila's coat by their lapels, and yanked her inside. She slammed her door shut,  hoping to any divine being listening that no paparazzi was outside to see the prostitute enter her home.

Camila stumbled in, her coat still clutched in Lauren's tight fists. They end up in the living room again, standing close like they never left each other. The shorter girl ran her hands through her hair and eased Lauren's fingers loose. "You know,I think am going to have to restart that fifthteen hours." She smiled and shook her coat off, and threw it on the arm of the couch. Camila straightend her shirt collar. "I don't usually do trial runs, but it seems that you are an exception."

Lauren shouldn't have blushed,but she did anyway. "Good.I want my money's worth."