I'm a high class prostitute, but my parents think I work in a bank!' (2)

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"Moneybags just called. He will be sending his driver for us by 9 this evening. You better start getting ready so we are not late. Especially you, (turning to Sheila) who take hours to dress," Bibi said. Sheila made a face at her and continued browsing on her phone. I returned to my room, took a shower and prepared for our outing. 

 I stood in front of the dressing mirror in my room and brushed my long weave-on which I had fixed a few days earlier specially for this job. After putting on my outfit, also new, I checked out my reflection in the mirror. I looked really good and smiling, I picked up my phone and handbag and left to join my friends. 

 Bibi was ready, but Sheila was nowhere to be found. 

 "I wonder what she's still doing?" I said.

 "Probably still taking her bath. Always late. I bet she will be late for her wedding in the future," Bibi said with a frown as we made for her room.

 Sheila was in her underwear when we got there. She was searching frantically in her bag for something.

 "Oh my God, Sheila! You are still like this?" Bibi exclaimed. 

 "We are getting late. What are you looking for anyway?" I chipped in, going to where she stood by the bed.

 "My gold chain and necklace. I can't find them and it's what I want to wear," she stated, sounding anxious.

 "Look, this is no time to look for your chain or whatever. The driver is downstairs waiting and we have to go,"said Bibi. She picked up Sheila's dress from the wardrobe and throwing it at her, stated:

 "Get dressed jo, and let's get out of here!" 

 We sat waiting impatiently while she dressed up. Her make-up was already done so she only needed to fix her hair which was worn in long braids.

   Downstairs, at the car park, a black jeep with tinted windows was waiting for us. We all got in 

and drove off. 

 The driver took us to Moneybags guest house in the city centre. It was a large compound with a very high fence which ensured absolute privacy. There were several buildings inside the brightly lit compound which had a manicured lawn, flowers and trees.

 An aide took us to one of the smaller buildings where we waited.

 "Chief will be with you soon. What can I get you to drink?" the man neatly dressed in a white shirt and black trousers asked. We placed our orders and he left.

 We took in our surroundings, noting the sumptuous furnishings and decor.

 "Fine place," Bibi stated, admiring one of the paintings on the wall.

  Sheila and I sat, sipping our drinks while watching a programme on the flat screen TV.

   It was about thirty minutes later that Moneybags came in. He was dressed in a blue coloured agbada and looked to be over seventy. Bibi, who already knew him introduced Sheila and I to him.

 "So sorry for keeping you all waiting. It's the meeting, it went on longer than expected. You are all looking so beautiful tonight, really tempting!" he said with a laugh. 

 He sent for his housekeeper who brought some food and more drinks.

  Chief sat down in our midst, stating:

  "Time to chill out, girls! Enjoy yourselves!" 

  Later, a friend of Moneybags, called Chief Francis joined us and the party started in earnest. Though an elderly man like Moneybags, he loved to dance. He put on some music and he began dancing first with Sheila, then Bibi. Moneybags sat watching them and smiling. Later he beckoned on me to sit on his lap.

 "Fine girl. I like you. Hope you will take very good care of me tonight," he stated, caressing my cheek. Then he squeezed my boobs and began to fumble with the zip of my dress.

 "No problem, Chief. That's why we are here," I said, smiling coyly at him, thinking about the money we were going to get for that night's 'work'. It would aptly make up for spending time with such an old, wrinkle faced man with a pot belly like that of a nine months pregnant woman, a man old enough to be my grandfather...

   A week later

 "Wake up, Vanessa! Are you going to spend the whole day in bed?" Sasha, my housemate said. I rolled over and placed a large pillow over my head, not wanting to be disturbed.

 She removed it, at the same time stating:

  "It's past 5 p.m. Remember you have an appointment at 7 today," she said, before leaving my room.

 I turned and groaned. I had forgotten all about the date with Jacques. I had met him a week earlier at a posh hotel on Victoria Island (a suburb in Lagos) when I had gone there to meet someone. He stayed in the hotel and he had said I should meet him at the bar for drinks and maybe dinner later.

 Truth was, I was tired and not in the mood to go out that day. In fact, I needed a break after the Abuja outing. We had spent four days in the city, with most nights with Chief and his friend. Whatever money we were paid was worth it because those old men were really something. In all the years I had been 'hustling,' I had never met a pair of old, randy men like those two. It was like they were on Viagra or something equally potent. They had the stamina of young men in their prime. Besides, Moneybags very big male organ had left me with cuts and bruises which needed time to heal.

 I had not gone out much since our return. I just hung around the house, eating, resting and watching movies. I decided it was time to take my annual vacation. Each year, I travelled out of the country to a nice location to relax from 'work'. I had the money to spoil myself. Besides, I could always call one of my 'clients' to help out with tickets and other expenses.

 I sat up and headed for the bathroom to take a bath. I was getting dressed later, when my phone rang. It was Jacques.

 "How are doing today?" he said. 

 "I'm ok."

 "I just left the office. I'm at the hotel now. When are you coming?" he asked.

  I told him I was getting ready and would soon leave the house.

 "You want me to send my driver to pick you?" he said. 

 "No need. I will drive down," I said. We chatted for a while then hung up.

  In my 'career', I had gone out with a couple of 'whiteys' as we called white men. They were usually decent and treated me better, at least better than our own men. The last one I had had dealings with was an American guy, Jim who worked in a telecoms company. I had met him at a niteclub and we had gone out a couple of times before he was transferred to South Africa. Before him was a German guy who was nice when sober but got nasty and abusive when drunk which he was most weekends when he was not working.

 Jacques, who was from Canada looked like a cool guy. I hoped he would be generous too as I did not like to waste my time with losers, men who wanted a good time but were not ready to pay the price...

Names have been changed to protect the identity of the narrator and other individuals in the story.

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