Diary of a High Price Escort Book One - Sex Stories

Diary of a High Price Escort Book One

It's the middle of August, and already my son of a bitch husband has started his annual pilgrimage to his "man cave" to watch football. Whether it's college or the pros, Barry can't get enough.

From now until the middle of February, I'll be a football widow, and he'll forget that I exist.

Pre-season means Thursday night games of the new pro talent. The pigskin addict's chance to see if the top draft choices are worth the millions they're being paid.

After a quick supper, Barry announced he was going downstairs to catch a game. "Oh, of course," I said, adding. "See you in February."

Barry looked over his shoulder with a disgusting grin on his lips. I think he enjoyed doing this every fall.

I flipped him off just before he disappeared down the basement stairs to his man cave.

"Fuck him." I thought. "I'll just go spend some of his hard-earned money."

I went upstairs to our bedroom and changed into a tight pair of jeans and a tighter white tank top. I brushed through my shoulder-length, auburn hair and slipped into a pair of sneakers. Perfect for an evening of shopping at the Strawberry Square Mall.

Barry's law degree and junior partnership at Yost, Yost, and Burns allow me to enjoy almost anything I like, and what I like most is shopping.

I put the top down on my silver SLK55 AMG and sped off to the mall without saying goodbye to Mr. Pig Skin.

Strawberry Square is a short drive, and in no time, I was pulling into a space at one end of the ...

... mall.

As I approached the entrance, a few college boys strolled by and checked me out. I was happy to realize that at thirty-five, I could still attract the attention of a couple twenty-year-olds.

But then again, I do work out regularly, and since Barry decided he wanted his trophy wife to have, as he put it, "slightly bigger tits," my tank tops reveal enough to attract anyone with a cock between his legs.

First stop Monica's Boutique.

"Peg!" Monica nearly screamed as I rounded the corner of her display window and entered her shop.

"Hi Monica, what's new?" I asked.

Monica always smiles, but her smile widened as she approached me.

"Peg, I don't think I've seen you all summer. Where have you been, darlin'?" Monica asked.

My golden tan should have told her, but I answered. "Spent eight weeks down the shore this summer."

Monica shook her finger at me and warned. "That sun will give you wrinkles if you’re not careful, Peg."

"Maybe, but I still love relaxing on the beach and letting my skin bake," I admitted, knowing Monica was correct in her warning.

"So, darlin', what brings you to the mall on a Thursday night?" Monica asked.

"Football." was my one-word reply.

Monica grinned and said. "Oh yes, another glorious football season. My business always picks up when the gridiron action begins."

"So show me what's new, Monica," I asked.

"Right this way, Peg," Monica answered, waving me past and deeper into her cute little boutique.

For the next ...