A/N: This idea has been spinning around in my head for awhile now. I decided to finally give in and write it down. It's nothing special if no one likes it, so if you do, please leave a review when you've finished reading. I only post for those who appreciate the work I put into my stories.

Disclaimer: I do not anything that is or is associated with Twilight.

There's a sound and the smell of love on my mind
I'm a toy, come and play with me
- Lovage

"Why are sitting here all alone by yourself?" She hears a voice say from behind her, turning her neck, she sees a man with messy hair coming around to sit next to her on the cold hard bench. It hurts the backs of her thighs, the skin peeking out from a small black skirt that she's wearing, with black mesh stockings and boots that she's just had polished.

"I was just waiting for someone," She answers, her voice no more than a whisper. She looks up from underneath her fluffy bangs at the stranger, and just as he sits down, he asks, "How much for one night?"

A faint blush comes to her cheeks, and she bites her lips before stammering, "For the whole night?" She hadn't thought he looked older than her, and was not used to anyone who wasn't middle-aged or had just came out of one of the business building behind her after work.

"Yes," he says, and now she looks closely at his face. His skin was a russet sheen, his hair as dark as the night around them, and his eyes, his eyes pierced her to her core as she breathed, "Five-hundred for the night, no exceptions made."

"And that means?" He reached over from where he was leaning on the bench, and traced a circle on her knee.

"I will anything that you want me to do." He stood, and reached for her hand, bringing her close to his body as he guided her over to the motorcycle positioned by the evergreen bushes.

He waited as she swung her leg over the side, placed a helmet in her hand, and waited for her arms to come around him.


Of all the homes that she had been in, this one seemed to be less sophisticated, but still on the side of wealth. She stood by the door, holding her bag close to her as she watched the man kick off his shoes, and head to the kitchen which peeked out from a wall that separated itself from the front room.

She could hear ice cubes clank against glass, and then hesitantly slipped off her boots, and lined them up neatly against the wall. She wrung her hands, and slowly walked over to where he was exiting the kitchen.

He handed her a glass of amber liquid which he then confirmed to be bourbon. She shook her head slightly as if to say no, but then took a tentative sip as he looked at her with those eyes that made her knees weak.

"What is your name?" He asked, slipping his hand through her hair, undoing the pins, and fluffing up her curls with his fingers.

"Isabella," she answered, looking around her to put down her glass. He took it from her hand, and downed both his and her drink in two separate shots.

"U-um, are we going to-?" She began to say, but was stopped when she heard his voice say, "Go to the bedroom down the hall, and wait on the bed. Take off your stockings."

She felt herself become wet at his commanding tone, and hurried to the room, slipping off her stockings, and centering herself on the bed. Just as she was going to pull her dress over her head, she heard the click of the door, and saw that the man was leaning against it, stroking himself through the fabric of his pants.

"Don't," he whispered, she could hear the sigh of ecstasy about to slip from his lips, and stopped her hands from taking the dress over, but let them roam over her breasts, and stomach, sliding her hands upwards from her knees to her thighs.

She watched his eyes the entire time, seeing when he would buckle into his hands, and thought that when he couldn't take it anymore, that he would to come to her. But still he stayed leaning against the door, his eyes never leaving her body.

When she was just about to slip her hands underneath the black material, she heard his voice choke out, " Slowly roll down your dress, I want to see your nipples."

She slipped down the straps of the dress, licked her lips, and pulled the dress so that it was now bunched up under her bust. "Play with them for me." She did, watching as he started to breathe heavily through his nose. He seemed to be losing his stance as he crossed his way over to her, and plunged his tongue hungrily into her mouth.

She didn't much expect to feel the impact of his fierceness, as he was only a client. But as soon as he threaded his fingers into her hair, and roughly tugged her head closer to him, she could begin to feel the thrill of lovemaking on the horizon.

He seemed insistent to make her feel the pleasure that so many only used her for themselves. Never had she had a man try to satisfy her before himself. It was rather unnerving when he pried apart her legs, and trailed his nose along her hairless sex. She didn't see him much as the brazen type, but accepted the deep lunges of his tongue inside her as if it was the unforgiving force of his hips.


Afterward, Isabella slept soundlessly, laid under the satin sheets that he had taken it to himself to drape over her body. Her arm was rested alongside her face made soft from sleep.

He had taken her mouth, her cunt, and the puckered hole that lingered within the depths of her backside. There were various spots that were sticky with the remnants of their joining.

He sat next to the window, on a small off white love seat, blowing the smoke from his cigarette out of his nostrils. He turned his head when he heard a small sound come from behind him.

She was a mumbler. She would mumble on, incoherently with little whimpers here and there. It wasn't clear to him what she was saying, but he though he caught her saying the would please more than once. Not surprisingly, her pleas aroused him.

She rolled over until she was laying straight on her back, moaning and pressing her thighs together until the cover slid down, and exposed her skin to the moonlight.

He couldn't take it anymore. He walked over and slide his hand past and into the juncture of her thighs, moving his finger between her nether lips, finding the button her desire. Isabella had a lovely cunt. Jacob then knew this would not be the last night he would request her services.