They should have just let the kid read his book and listen to his records.

After all, he was a student finally able to leave university for a few weeks to spend Thanksgiving vacation with his family. Something told Isabella Francesca he didn't want to be home and that he didn't want them in his home.

Isabella's presence was normally invited with immense desire. However, Isabella was the lady who picked up emotions from others without wanting to. She knew what people thought of her. Her profession was described as pathetic, filthy, and in some states illegal. While 'on the clock,' Isabella Francesca and Brice were looked at as goddesses of sexuality from their customers perspective. On the other hand, while walking down the streets, Isabella felt a sense of shame and economic imprisonment. She never usually mingled with people when she didn't have to so not many people in the Sea Palm's area could rightfully make judgments on her. That didn't stop Isabella from thinking that everyone knew of her duties and how she's currently making money.

Brice didn't care about anything. Despite the two women being the same age, twenty-three, Isabella was mentally Brice's senior by a decade. It didn't matter to Brice the damage she caused. Sometimes she broke up relationships and families on purpose, it seemed. Although it wasn't ALL Brice's fault. She carried herself around in a wreck less, stupid manner, and would be happy to be a whore the remainder of her life, Isabella believed. This kid never really grew up yet and she was raised in a way that if a woman were to care about her intelligence, then that would mean she's ugly, or a dyke, or both. No, the pretty women were only 'things,' or accessories to men and Brice, like too many other women, didn't seem to mind as long as they were taken care of and didn't have to do much aside from turn their bodies into semen factories.

Isabella feels she is hypocritical thinking this way but knows there are many distinct differences between herself and Brice. Isabella has come to the conclusion that she is at point A and has yet to make it to point B. Point A is doing whatever she can to survive and in fact, live comfortably. However, she's planning to put her bachelors' degree to use whenever a real company is interested in giving Isabella her first medical experience.

As for the student, Isabella hates that they are intruding in his home. People usually go to a secluded room, such as a furnished basement, to be by themselves. The fact that Jeremy, the guy who ordered them, is late makes this situation very awkward for Isabella. Brice is bored and thinking of a way they can pass the time as her lips curl into a smirk.

Jeremy's younger brother, Ryan, is sitting back on the pea colored couch with his sneakered feet propped up on the coffee table. Isabella and Brice sit on the mustard colored sofa opposite of him.

Brice is feeling frisky during Jeremy's absence. The ladies met Jeremy before and went to his basement while his folks were vacationing in the Tennessee mountains, Venice, France, and the stone valleys of Ireland.

'I never went to Ireland. I never went to France. I never saw the Eiffel Tower,' Isabella thought bitterly when Jeremy briefly explained where the rest of his family was during their previous session.

Jeremy and Ryan came from a rich family, which meant a good family. A family that uses distance, ignorance, and 'the help' to solve all their inclusive problems. In a way, Isabella and Brice were the help. There were the cooks, the maids, the valleys… and the escorts.

Brice puts her legs up on the table as well and parts her thighs, to where Ryan can have a peak at the brown curls covering her pussy. Her long, powder blue, button down shirt is all unbuttoned, leaving the curves of her big, luscious tits showing and part of her nipple.

The material is thin enough and the basement is chilly so her nipples show through the fabric. It was Jeremy's shirt that was given to Brice their last visit and she wore it for the possibility of getting a big tip off him.

Ryan takes the Steely Dan album off the record player, and puts it back in its large envelope. He then retreats to his book after giving the women a shy greeting.

Ryan had a Stephen King book masking his face from under his eyes. He has the same color eyes as Jeremy (hazel) only his eyes looked sweet, while Jeremy's eyes mirrored mischief. Ryan had an innocent charm to him. One would assume all the girls at Ryan's university adored him, pretending they didn't have their class notes just as an excuse to spend time with Ryan. He's over six feet in height with stubs of facial hair and has mid-shoulder length, rebellious, blonde hair. He also has good skin.

Twenty minutes go by and the women are still waiting for Jeremy to start his fun and record it as well.

"I think I'm getting a pimple on my ass," Brice says. She adjusts the bottom of her shirt and shamelessly feels her backside, levering her one leg in the air.

Ryan looks past It, that thousand page novel about a killer clown, and 'tries to' study between Brice's legs in secrecy. Her perfect curves. Her public hair shaved and trimmed in a perfect triangle. Those plump, tan legs, and narrow feet to prove she wasn't on them much.

"Quit being ridiculous," Isabella replies.

"It's not being ridiculous. It's wanting to look perfect for the job." Brice gets up, approaches Ryan, then turns herself away from him.

"Is there a bump on my ass? Do you see a pimple?" Brice bends over while running her fingers down her backside.

"Here, you can feel! I can't really tell," Brice takes Ryan's hand and places it on her left cheek. The novel tumbles on Ryan's lap, loosing his page number, which was the least of his concern.

It seemed like a natural instinct took over. His fingertips stroked up and down her plump ass as he could find no flaw on her backside. If there was a pimple on Brice's ass, Ryan wouldn't care! Brice let out a slight moan from his gentle touch.

"There's nothing wrong with you," Ryan says quietly. The close up view of Brice's slick, pink lips and her natural D-cup melons dangling down her bent over frame was enough to make Ryan happy the book was covering his tent. Suddenly, Ryan forgot what he even said to her.

"You're gonna get yourself killed for being so careless one day. I won't be surprised when you end up strangled to death in a swimming pool in some lunatics mansion," Isabella says, not moving from her original place on the dark yellow sofa.

"Hell-low, you're a whore, too, Isabella!" Brice retorts as if she were somehow telling off her coworker.

'Not for long,' Isabella thinks. True, she went to many appointments with Brice, as their clients liked purchasing their services in a package. Isabella actually ended up having sex with Brice more often than her clients. Their clients paid thousands to watch per session. But it was Brice who always went further and further in intimate acts with wealthy men and women. Whether it was cream pies, toys, or anal play, Brice was always more willing and even enthusiastic to perform these functions. Isabella liked to tease and talk dirty when she felt sociable during work, but she would regularly stick to solo play or making love to Brice.

Brice plops down next to Ryan, who cringed when she spat the word whore. It sounded so ugly and unbecoming. As much as Ryan liked having sex with a particular girl at his university (which he no longer does) he never even considered buying a prostitute. That idea seemed so sad to him but here he was like he was supposed to act as a gracious host to Jeremy's upscale prostitutes.

Ryan didn't know either woman very well at all, so he tried not to come off as offensive and he also didn't want to make Jeremy angry when he came back. Ryan never got along with Jeremy, and his older brother's temper certainly played a factor in that.

"You don't have to be uncomfortable around me. In fact, I find you much more attractive than Jeremy, and you also seem a lot nicer." Brice gives Ryan a sincere smile as she pushes a lock of blonde hair behind his ear. "But please don't tell him I said that," Brice giggles.

Suddenly, Brice's voice sounded as sweet as honey to him. Ryan did feel calm from her touch and the way she caressed his cheek as her thumb glided against his lower lip.

Ryan glanced down at Brice's breasts again. He could have sworn she had the most gorgeous pair he'd ever seen with big rosy nipples that were hard as diamonds. She was absolutely stunning with her big bust, plump thighs, wide hips, and smooth legs. Brice's prettiest feature to Ryan was probably her smile though, and the way her eyes lit up. He couldn't understand how he could sense joy in her eyes doing what she does. To make it stranger, she started to remind him of the girl he fell for at Georgia State. He started to see Brice as someone he could have met at college and maybe took her out for coffee if her choices had led her to a higher education.

Isabella stopped picking the dry skin around her fingernails and excused herself from the basement. Ryan and Brice were oblivious to her motion.

"So… um… never mind." Ryan wanted to ask Brice why she chose to be an escort and if she ever had any dreams she wanted to accomplish; although, he didn't want to upset her at the expense of his curiosity. 'Don't be stupid. Of course she has dreams.'

"I'd rather not talk about myself. If that's what you were going to ask," Brice says.

"Can I ask you your name?" Ryan asks.

"It's Brice."

Brice moves the book from Ryan's lap and sets it on the coffee table.

"You appear quite gloomy for a student's who's home for fall break. You must have a lot of paper's due when you go back." Brice put her hand on Ryan's thigh and notices his erection still standing.

"Just a few," he remarks.

"I can relieve your stress. Free of charge. If you'd like me to," she cuts to the chase.

Ryan nods anxiously and leans back on the couch. He couldn't say anything, his tongue felt all twisted and his brain felt like mush as if he couldn't properly comprehend what she just said. He was probably just hearing things.

To Ryan's disbelief, Brice unzips his jeans and guides his erect penis out of his boxers. Ryan pulls down his pants and undergarment, taking the two off and leaving them in a pile. He slides Brice's button down off her shoulders, removes his own plaid flannel, and the only articles of clothing remaining are Ryan's tube socks. His heart is beating rapidly like a bird trying to escape from its cage.

Ryan isn't thinking about Brice's sexual history. Obviously, she's been around the block before, many times more than him. He doesn't consider any negative outcome of intercourse during this time. This is an unexpected event for Ryan. He anticipated an empty mansion. He expected to hang out in the rooms no one else went to, sliding books off their dusty shelves and blowing the covers clean. And on Thanksgiving day, all his relatives would come to town: his third cousins, distant aunts and uncles, his grandparents that were widowed and remarried to younger partners. In reality, he talked to these distant relatives as much as he communicated with his immediate family. Those dorm rooms were truly a great invention, Ryan believed.

However, if those dorms were not being renovated, were he not forced to return home for these two and a half weeks while maintenance checked for mold, pests, and installed new carpeting, he never would have met Brice. Then this would not be happening. Obviously, he doesn't know her well at all but this attraction grew by the way she touched him and spoke to him. It feels like she cares. Ryan senses she does care about him, more than his former girlfriends (especially his most recent) ever did.

Not to mention, Brice's blow jobs are really good. She wraps her soft hand around his cock after warming it with her mouth, and starts to lick his nuts while playfully lifting them up with her tongue. Then, she starts sucking his dick again, while running her fingertips across his balls. Brice's other hand stokes Ryan's thigh. Ryan's fingers are buried in Brice's soft, long, coco hair, while Brice's knees are buried in the charcoal carpet. Her hair looks really pretty to him, especially the loose curls at the bottom. Her eyebrows are shaped and thickened with brown pencil, which in some cases can make someone look like a tranny, but it makes Brice look neat and distinguished. Her blue eyes, shaded by long lashes, are beautiful, too. They remind Ryan of the ocean. His pelvis keeps rocking forward and Brice sucks him in deeper, never failing to do more tricks with her tongue. Whenever Brice's jaw needed a rest, she would lick up the length of Ryan's cock and give his tip a French kiss, which makes Ryan's legs tremble further in ecstasy. As hot as she looks with his pink manhood gliding in and out of her mouth, Ryan really wants to fuck her.

Brice gives his penis one last kiss before she moves up and places it between her breasts and strokes him using her chest. She removes her hand from his thigh and begins rubbing circles around her slippery, bright pink clitoris.

"Let me help you, there," Ryan says while Brice sticks two fingers in her ovulating pussy.

"Ok," she moans.

Ryan lifts Brice up and sets her on his lap. She places his manhood between her vaginal lips and rubs it back and forth over her clit as Ryan plunges his fingers inside her. Longer and thicker than her own, his fingers are a nice fit inside Brice. He licks the juices off her two fingers as she uses his wood to stimulate herself. Ryan takes his fingers out, which are now cold after they leave her body, and inserts his throbbing cock inside Brice. She moans in delight and begins riding him slow for he can savor the feeling of her moist velvet hole. She comes back down and Ryan's pinky penetrates her tiny star.

"So tight," Brice mutters as she continues to fuck him. Her hips move faster as Ryan's pelvis collides with her own. As she comes a first time, she starts strumming her fingertips along her clit again as her whole body quivers.

A thin sheet of sweat covers their thighs and Ryan places another finger in her extremely tight and hot asshole. He puts his hand on the middle of Brice's back and pulls Brice closer to him. Her breasts bob down under her as Ryan takes one creamy breast and sucks on her pink petal.

"Ahh… mmhh," she pants.

"Do you want to lay down?" Ryan asks.

"Yes," Brice answers dreamily.

He removes himself from her and he takes her hand, leading her to the bearskin run beside the writing desk.

Ryan never thought he would make love to a perfectly sculpted woman in this room. Nor did he imagine there was such a woman with a beautiful body, who also has a cute face perfectly aligned with freckles.

Ryan sets Brice down on her back, spreads her legs, lifts her hips up, and penetrates her. He goes in deep enough to where the tip of his penis pokes a soft spongy organ inside Brice. And she really likes that! She tilts her head back and smiles, making hums of pleasure.

Isabella Francesca, irritated at first, finds she is able to kill some time by roaming Jeremy's wine cellar. She's in heaven, wandering the rows and rows of white, red, and rose wines. There's even a section of champagne bottles on display. Isabella peels the gold tin from around the tip of a Mark West Pinot Noir bottle. She chugs a good third of the bottle and conceals the remaining bottle in the flap of her jacket. Isabella wishes she had her backpack with her but it's in the basement, with Ryan and Brice. So, she goes back to the basement and grabs it, and is not totally amazed that Jeremy still didn't show up at his own house yet.

Forty five minutes late.

Jeremy might take Brice for a fool, and Isabella could not argue with him on that one, but she was not stupid. She has a normal job and she had to punch in at the Ocean Lodge at five PM sharp. While Jeremy can argue and refuse to pay the women for lost time, Isabella will tell him she refuses to return until she gets reimbursed for this session he did not bother to show up to. Even though it may not have been intentional, as the many lines of cocaine seemed to really fuck Jeremy up to the point that the couldn't remember what year it was or how old he was.

Isabella packs up her things in the basement.

"I'm leaving, Brice, find your own way home. I need to go to work. And tell Jeremy he owes me five hundred dollars for dressing up and dragging my ass here in the first place, Ryan."

Isabella walks by the naked couple entwined on the bearskin rug.

"And good luck with school, Ryan. Your parents would be so proud," Isabella says in a dry tone. After a sarcastic eye roll at Ryan and Brice's hookup, Isabella left Jeremy's basement.

Isabella returns to the wine cellar, grabs several wine bottles from the back of the racks, and places them gently in her backpack. Her yarn sweater she has packed away, acted as a shield for the bottles wouldn't break, and she wouldn't jingle when she leaves the mansion. But even if the trunk of a wine bottle did emerge from Isabella's sack, would the butler even care? Why should he?

Rich people have so much shit they forget about. Once someone is rich enough an education, or a memory, seems worthless to them for some reason. Isabella vows she will never be like that. No matter how much money she will end up making in her life, being smart will always come first. After all, does the butler not slip those palm-sized, gold statues from the mantle, into the pocket of his tuxedo? Do the cooks not steal the China and silver sets? And does the maid not conceal Lily Pulitzer, J. Crew, and Ralph Lauren clothes from the Mrs.' closet by stuffing them under her uniform? Isabella could see that happening weekly, at least. The theory of the maid stealing designer clothes from Jeremy's mother had her thinking of how much jewelry she must possess. But she has to go to work, so maybe next time. She might bother to come again if they get an explanation and an apology for Jeremy's tardiness.

In the basement, Ryan's outgrown bangs are damp from perspiration and he rests his head on Brice's pretty rack after he kisses her nipple. Brice, in return, runs her fingers through Ryan's blonde locks. He listens to her heart racing and it makes him happy that he gave her an orgasm. With his dick still warm and pulsing, pressed up against Brice's tummy and her thigh, Ryan is ready to come himself but he doesn't want it to be over yet.

"Brice, would you ever like it if I took you out sometime? Like, for coffee, or to the drive in? And it wouldn't be 'work' for you," Ryan asks cautiously. He waits between her bosoms for a reply and starts to play with her nipple, rubbing circles over her breast as her rose petal hardens once more at his touch.

"Of course I would like that." Brice smiles as she pushes Ryan's hair behind his ear. It turns him on when she touches his earlobe like that with her thumb. Also, it gets him relaxed when she rubs circles around the back of his neck and his spine.

"I want you to finish," Brice says.

"I can do that, sweetie."

Ryan continues pumping her pussy, savoring Brice's immense warmth and slickness. He knew this was a cliché way of thinking but he thought it anyway: he fit in her body perfectly. While he never thought he was an amazing lover with the girls from his university, Brice's moans and the cute noises she made gave him a new confidence.

When Ryan pulls out, and goes in again, Brice's eyes seem to freeze and her breath seemed to stop for a moment. Her hands clutch on to his sides.

Ryan stops and asks what's wrong.

"Nothing. It feels really good but you're my first for this. Keep going," Brice pleads.

He stays still until she adjusts to him and pushes in really slow for he won't hurt her.

"Shit… I'm coming!" she exclaims.

Her hole is such a tight fit as it's hugging his cock.

'This feels so fucking good, I'm in heaven!' Ryan thinks.

Bryce climbs into cowgirl position. Ryan goes in deeper but doesn't put his whole manhood in her ass. He cups her ass, pulling her cheeks apart and that excites Brice further. Brice takes control and slowly slides his rod in and out of her asshole. After all, her pussy is so wet from ovulation plus an orgasm, her cum would make a good lubricant to use for anal.

With Ryan's dick still in Brice's snug hole, he plays with her womanhood once more, ramming three fingers up her vagina and pumping in a rhythm that will surely have her cum dripping down his wrist.

"Oh my God… you should be getting paid for this shit," Brice says.

Ryan's eyes flutter and shut as he ejaculates. Brice shakes on top of him. At first, Ryan thinks she's getting off again.

He opens his eyes and yells.

Brice croaks, her eyes pleading Ryan for help.

Her fingers are trying to get under the wire wrapped around her throat.

That wire, thick and blue. Her blue eyes mirror a storm out in the middle of the Atlantic, opposed to settling tides.

…

She was so close, he could have stopped it. He wanted to help her!

She was pulled from his lap, dragged from the basement study, and along the cold tile surrounding the eight foot deep swimming pool.

Of course, Ryan tried to save her. He could have tried much harder. But he was always the one that got beat up when they were kids. So he went away to school to get away from it all: the bulling from his sibling and the frozen and indifferent response from their parents.

He made it to the pool when he tried to save her. Then, he got a blow the head, hard, and the last thing he saw before going down was his vision turning to dark red. The last thing he remembered smelling was the chlorine.

When Ryan woke up, his head was bleeding. His blood was caked across his entire right cheek, and smeared over the tile alongside him.

He sat up.

"I just slipped and fell," he observed.

"The pills made me pass out."

Ryan caught his breath. With his legs crossed and hands over his forehead in disbelief at himself, he said, "Knew those things were bad for me. Never again."

He looked at the pool, and slid back in shock!

He rubbed his eyes to make sure it wasn't a dream or a hallucination. It wasn't.

…

Ryan jumps in the pool. Of course it was real; he was even naked!

Brice's head is slightly still bobbing above the water. He swam to the shallow part where her body is drifting and scoops her up.

Ryan tries CPR (despite never being certified), yelling her name, shaking her. Ryan tries everything he could think of, really.

Her body was fairly warm, but she never spoke to him again.

Ryan sobbed uncontrollably as Brice got stiffer and stiffer. He was there, he could have done something! She never even knew his name.

From the security room, located on the floor above the pool, Jeremy stops all the camera's.

They all should have just let the kid read his book and listen to his records.