Free The Boyfriend Experience by Michaela Wright

 
     
     
     
    Stephen knew the lighting of these halls
well. He’d come to recognize the quality of a place by just the
corridors – the stark walls, the simple gray carpet, the porcelain
wall sconces casting geometric light. Every floor was the same. He
stood outside the elevator of the seventh floor and straightened
himself. He was nervous.
    The client was in room 7114. He walked past
silent doors, his black leather shoes, freshly shined, silent on
the pristine carpet. He’d pulled his best suit out for this
evening, grey and perfectly tailored. He’d padded his pocket with a
kerchief to match the silk tie, both a dark purple – the client’s
favorite color, if he remembered correctly.
    He read the next door as he passed – 7110.
He was getting close. He tried to ignore the knot in his stomach.
Just a few more steps and he was standing outside her door. He
raised his hand to knock, and stopped to arrange himself one more
time, for good measure – buttons set, kerchief square, tie
straight. He ran his hands over the back of his hair, freshly shorn
for the occasion. For this woman he would arrive in peak condition.
This client expected no less.
    He rapped his knuckle against the door and
listened. After a moment there was a soft shuffle inside. He
swallowed.
    The door opened to an empty room, wide
enough for him to enter, but she was nowhere to be seen. He stepped
inside to find her hiding behind the door and met her eyes as she
shut it behind him. There she was. Just as he remembered her.
    Martina’s hair hung in ringlets over her
shoulders, darker now, and time had settled gracefully at the
corners of her eyes. Yet her face was soft, her smile warm. She
stood a few inches shorter than him, her figure hugged at every
inch by a sleeveless purple cocktail dress. She’d taken as much
care as he had, the dress pressing her breasts to a soft mound at
the edge of the fabric. He’d remembered the color exactly.
    He scooped an arm around her waist and
pulled her against him to kiss her cheek.
    “Happy Birthday, sweetheart.”
    She beamed at him. He ran his hands down her
back, trying to hide his nerves with steady hands.
    “You remembered!”
    “Of course. You’re my favorite…”
    He stopped himself before the word ‘client’
could pass his lips. Though she’d never minded the term, he’d come
to consider it in poor taste when working with her. She wasn’t like
other clients. Most women who sought The Boyfriend Experience
wanted a man to stifle loneliness with, followed by mindless sex.
This woman wasn’t lonely, nor was she mindless. She was passionate,
she was fun, and he had been a birthday present to herself for five
years now. When he told her she was his favorite, it was the
truth.
    “When I find a man who can do what you do
for free, I’ll marry him. Until then, I’ll pay the toll, thank you
very much,” she’d said after their second encounter. Perhaps that’s
why he enjoyed her as much as he did, and why his stomach was in
knots.
    She pressed her hand to the lapel of his
jacket and sighed. “Dear god you look good.”
    He drew close to her lips, ready to break
the barrier that existed between them, between any two people who
have similar intentions. She laughed and pulled out of his grasp,
shyly. A smile burned his cheeks.
    She walked across the suite in her bare feet
to a white counter, and retrieved a drink she’d been nursing. She
mimed to him that he was free to partake as she sipped clumsily.
Unlike him, she wasn’t concerned with hiding her nerves.
    “So what would you like to do tonight,
beautiful?”
    She grinned and set her drink back down.
    “I could happily spend the evening listening
to you call me that. Repeatedly.”
    “It’s your birthday, whatever you like,” he
said before adding with a smirk, “beautiful.”
    She fidgeted for a moment, visibly searching
for the courage to say something. Finally, she found it, and
planted her hands on her hips.
    “It seems like such a