She had to admit though, he was a smooth mother fucker. “I am not a pimp Mrs Hounslow” Kris admonished quietly. “I am a male escort, a gigolo, a...prostitute”. That shut them up pretty quick he thought. Their eyes had gone wide but then Helen’s brow furrowed in a disbelieving frown. “You’re telling me my husband hired a male prostitute?” She asked incredulously.“No, no”. Kris explained. “He hired Clarissa, my associate”. He watched her accept that statement with unfortunate ease. “But it was me. It REALLY was not what I had in mind, when Isuggested I might put on a dress for dinner. But I had a very strong,gnawing feeling inside that I had no choice in the matter, and that itwasn't my place to question. While I knew that that was wrong, I also knewthat, practically, at this point, I didn't have much of a way of expressingmy protest, and knew that it probably wouldn't get any results anyway. So Ijust let it go, clenching my jaw because of the tension.He took me by the wrist, and put his. More

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