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I squint. “Seriously? 18th century English hunting lodge?”
Chelsea nods.
“Yeah, I mean the agency rented a lavish manor out on Long Island and everything, but I didn’t like it because it was just so Ralph Lauren. We all had to wear plaid, even down to our thongs. I was like, there’s so little fabric and we’re just going to take it off anyways, so what’s the point? But there’s no use arguing and I just went along with it.”
“Wow,” I say in a stunned voice. “Go figure.”
“I know, right?” Chelsea nods. “But you know tonight’s theme, don’t you?”
I shake my head, miffed. This is news to me. After all, the room is filled with gorgeous women dressed in skimpy lingerie, but that’s to be expected. Nothing stands out.
Chelsea giggles, a bell-like sound. “Well, we’re all MILFs,” she says. “That’s the theme. Moms I’d Like to Fuck.”
I blink rapidly.
“You’re kidding.”
She shakes her head slowly.
“Nope, I’m not.”
I’m growing increasingly confused.
“But I’m not a mom,” I say in a slow voice. “Maybe there’s been a mistake and I’m at the wrong event.”
Chelsea shakes her head.
“No, I don’t think so. I mean, you have a baby inside of you, so you could technically be seen as a mom already. Not to mention there are some guys who go wild for pregnant ladies,” she adds in a hushed voice.
I stare at her, still stunned.
“Wow,” I whisper. “Holy shit.” I feel somewhat foolish for not knowing that tonight was a special event. Did they not tell me? Or maybe they told me, and I just didn’t process the information. Well, it’s too late now.
“Don’t stress about it,” Chelsea says in a reassuring tone. “Look-sees are a little wild, but just go with what feels right to you. Someone on the other side of the mirror will definitely pick you because you’re gorgeous and glowing, girl. Hell, I wouldn’t be surprised if you’re snapped up first.”
I smile weakly at her kindness but still, this night has already taken a left turn and it hasn’t even started yet. Then, I stare at my new friend again because Chelsea’s young, sweet, and very innocent looking. What is she, maybe twenty-one or twenty-two?
“Are you a mom as well?” I blurt. Immediately I feel embarrassed and hope that she doesn’t think I’m judging her.
Chelsea’s hand goes up to her soft belly and she rests it there for a moment. A small, secret smile spreads across her lips and then she sighs with a mixture of bliss and panic.
“Yes, in the same way that you are. I just found out I was pregnant a few weeks ago, so I’m not very far along. It wasn’t exactly planned, but yeah, I’m expecting, too.”
I stare at her belly because it’s totally flat, but then again, that’s to be expected given her early stage. I want to chat more because it sounds like we may have a few things in common, but then a chime rings, soft but distinctive.
“All right, ladies,” Maria calls out over the excited chatter of young women. “Are you ready? Put on your best smiles because tonight’s gentlemen are handsome, wealthy, and very, very generous. Now shoulders back, chins high, and make me proud!”
My fellow escorts react on cue. They set down their mascara wands, lipsticks, and blushers, and shimmy their hips with small giggles. A few straighten their pasties, and then a door opens in the far left corner. We begin teetering towards the entryway, filing out of the dressing room in a perfumed flurry of swaying hips and bouncing breasts.
I bring up the rear of the line, suddenly feeling nervous and unattractive. I understand that the other ladies must be mothers too, but none of them are visibly pregnant with a big belly like me. Although quite a few have the silvery stripes of stretch marks, they’re uniformly gorgeous with lipsticked smiles and sensuously swinging hips.
Oh god, oh god, this is going to be embarrassing. But what can I do at this late stage? I teeter along behind Chelsea, feeling like the only hippopotamus in the room. Everyone else is a graceful, light-footed deer while I’m a wallowing mud animal that’s somehow been allowed into the show.
Finally, I step through the door and into a room unlike any I’ve ever seen. Tall, floor-to-ceiling mirrors line one side of the room, and surely behind those panels is where the billionaires await. The floor is carpeted with a thick cream shag, making our heels sink deliciously into the white fluff. Plus, there are a few sofas and soft chairs in floral prints scattered about. All in all, it’s a very feminine vibe, all cast in a flattering pink glow to highlight our creamy skin and generous curves.
“Are you ready?” Chelsea giggles. There are stars in her eyes, and a light flush stains her cheeks.
