“Are we really going to need money if that happens?” pointed out Carina.
“Yes and no,” said Vicky. “After a few years or even months, money might be worthless, but you might need it to survive the initial incident.”
“Which will be what?” I asked.
“Could be a meteor, nuclear strike, terrorist attack, pandemic, lots of things. The point is, you should be prepared,” she urged.
“You’re so paranoid,” dismissed Jim. “What next? Zombies?”
“It could be a disease that makes people like a zombie,” suggested Vicky. “You don’t know. Something could happen. Fortunately, you’re married to me and I’ll have us prepared.”
“She built us both bug-out bags,” Jim said with a smile.
“What’s that?” I asked.
“You put a bunch of survival stuff in a backpack, ready-to-go at any time,” she explained. “It has everything, Dried food, maps, compass, knife, matches, water purifier tablets, everything you’d need to survive, at least in the immediate.”
“You’re serious about this?” Carina asked, unsure.
“Carina, you have to be ready,” she insisted. “In New York, the first thing you’re gonna wanna do is get out of the city.”
“Fat chance of that,” I scoffed. “She’ll be trapped in Manhattan. It’s an island. You’d have to wait in a long line to walk the length of the George Washington Bridge to get out of there.”
“If I worked there, I’d have an inflatable raft,” Vicky said.
The rest of the table laughed. Jim threw up his hands.
“I’m serious!” Vicky insisted. “With a raft and a plastic oar you assemble yourself, you can row to Fort Lee and be on your way. Everyone else will be waiting for the ferry.”
“If the water is like super cold, you could die,” Carina pointed out.
“The disaster might happen in the summer,” Vicky said. “Either way, better to have it and not need it. Am I right?”
“If the worst happens and there’s nuclear war, I’m just going to the roof. Get one last blast and watch the whole thing. I’ll be dead, but at least I will have seen the end of humanity.”
“We’ll miss you, honey,” joked Vicky.
Our conversation may have taken a turn into the absurd, but at least we were all having a good time.
After a fun lunch, I headed back to the hotel with Carina. We had a few hours until I was supposed to go out with Jim. Being with Carina felt very natural and I kept forgetting that she was a client. Was she still a client? I didn’t know anymore.
“What’s wrong, Leo?” she said on the drive back. “You’re like a million miles away.”
“Oh, I just…We had such a great time,” I said. “I think it went well. Really, really well.”
“Jim and Vicky see us as a couple.”
“Yeah, that’s what we are…today.”
She added “today”. What did that mean after the weekend was over? Then again, who am I kidding? I had no job. I’m just a gigolo when you get right down to it. I couldn’t support Carina just being an escort and what woman would want that?
By comparison, my other clients were easy. I wasn’t emotionally invested. But now, with Carina, what was I? What was I doing? Should I leave?
I could build my life up and then come back. But then, she might move on. But if I stay, the money would run out and she’d surely reject me.
No, I can’t leave. I want her…at least until the weekend was over and she flew back to New York.
Torn as I was, once we got up to her hotel room we were all over each other. Carina was like a drug I couldn’t resist, and I had become addicted. Her touch, her smell and the sight of her, it consumed me.
“Take me again, Leo!” she demanded, whispering in my ear. “I want to feel you inside me!”
I found myself kissing her again, drinking at the Fountain of Carina. I threw her on the bed, tore open her dress and pulled down her panties. She didn’t resist and found the whole process arousing. I buried my face into her pussy and swirled my tongue around her clit.
“Oh, Leo!” she squealed. “Oh! You’re making me… Oh! I’m cumming!”
Her juices flowed onto my face. I took my fingers and penetrated her, pumping my hand in and out. As I increased my speed, Carina began to moan louder and louder.
She begged me not to stop and then, again, her pussy started quivering around my fingers.
“Oh! Oh, God!” she gasped. “No one’s ever made me cum so hard! And so many times!”
She grabbed me and started kissing me. Then it was her turn to throw me on the bed. Fumbling with my belt, Carina tore off my pants and boxers, flinging them across the room. I was already quite aroused.
“I want to taste you,” she said, crawling up my legs. “I want to lick you up and down!”