Gigolo || h.s. au

gig·o·lo
ˈjiɡəˌlō,ˈZH-/
nounderogatory
a young man paid or financially supported by an older woman to be her escort or lover.
~
In which 24 year old Harry Styles is a gigolo who gives his aid to young 19 year old Emilia Jones.

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2. o n e

O N E

Meeting and Guidelines


Emilia stared at herself in the mirror, smoothing out the wrinkles in the dress she'd borrowed from her best friend and roommate, Ava. She wanted more than anything to take it off and crawl back into bed because really, she almost considered admitting herself into a mental hospital; you had to be crazy to agree to something like this. 


Speaking of which... What the hell was she thinking agreeing to this? Was it because she loved making people happy? After all, Ava's smile could make an homeless man rich and she loved when her best friend was happy. But then she wondered that maybe it was something else; maybe there was something buried deep down inside of her that made her agree to this... arrangement. 


Sighing, she ran her fingers through her tangled red curls and glanced at her phone to see what time it was before throwing her hair up in a ponytail. She grabbed the clutch - another thing she borrowed from Ava - and headed out of the apartment. 
*
Emilia's hands gripped onto the steering wheel firmly as she stared at the restaurant in front of her. Her eyes followed the waiters and waitresses as they walked around, taking orders and then disappearing in the kitchen. She found herself searching the tables of people, looking specifically for a male who was sitting alone.


She found two but they made her skin crawl. Seeing them made her afraid to go in there and ask for one simple name because well... she knew she had no right to judge but she still had priorities. And the thought of anyone of the two helping her with her situation wasn't something she favored very well either.


But, just as she decided to leave, she caught sight of a tall man with loose brown curls that reached his shoulders, rushing inside of the restaurant. He looked down at his watch before disappearing through the double doors. Her teeth caught her bottom lip as she waited for another sight of him.


Finally, a waitress sat him down at a table. It was in perfect view for her to gaze at him. She waited another few minutes to see if anyone else was going to sit with him but also, admittedly, taking him in. When she noticed that no one else came in behind him or sat with him, she decided to hope for the best and got out of the car, heading towards the entrance of the restaurant. 


"Hi! Welcome to La Cabbarano. Reservations or walk-in?" The receptionist asked once she walked in.


"Um... reservations," Emilia mumbled shyly. 


"Name?" 


"Harry Styles,"


The receptionist looked up in surprise before playing it off with a smile. "Right this way." 


She got up and guided Emilia towards the very back on the left side, smiling at a few customers along the way. As they passed by the first and then the second man Emilia saw earlier, she felt relieved... and then nervous all over again.


If this Harry Styles character was the same man she saw rushing inside earlier... Well, she understood why he was getting paid to have sex with a bunch of women instead of just doing it for free. 


"Here we are." The woman spoke, pulling Emilia out of her thoughts and being polite enough to tug the seat out for her. "Your server will be with you in a moment."


"Thanks," Emilia said, getting in the seat and scooting it up towards the table.


She could feel his eyes on her, taking her in. The heat of his stare made her body feel clammy all over and she squirmed a little in her seat. Her throat felt so constricted; her whole being felt constricted. 


How could someone she'd barely even met - barely even looked at - do this to her? 


It was ludicrous... yet oddly intriguing. All of these feelings were so... new and foreign but... that's what made it fascinating. Her heart was beating so fast and the blood rushed to her ears. Her vision wasn't focused and... and...


"... Ma'am?" 


Whatever trance she was in shattered and Emilia was suddenly aware of where she was, her cheeks immediately tinging pink.


"She'll have the steak as well," A deep voice intervened.


"Baked or mashed potatoes?" The waitress asked, a slight country accent in her voice.


"M-mashed," Emilia stammered out, catching the attention of the server; his attention, however, never left her in the first place.


The server nodded, writing down the order. "And for your drink?"


"Red wine, please." She may have exaggerated that last word. 


"Alrighty! Y'all orders will be right up." The hostess smiled, taking their menus and disappearing in the back.


There was a moment of silence before that same deep voice spoke. 


"Aren't you a bit too young for wine?" 


"I'm going to need it for this," Emilia replied.


"What's that supposed to mean? You got yourself into this, after all." How could a voice so pleasant sound so malicious?


"Can we just get this over with?" She whispered in discomfort.


He leaned forward, placing his elbows on the table. "Why exactly are you doing 'this'?"


Emilia leaned back, not exactly liking the closeness of him. He made her nervous, but she wasn't sure if it was because of the cruel undertone of his charming voice or if it was because of something else. 


"That's not of your concern." She muttered as politely as she could for such an impolite sentence.


Her eyes met his pale green ones before looking back down. 


"Fair enough." He murmured. "Let's get started then, Emilia." 


"Okay," she nodded but then she caught sight of the hostess with their food, specifically their drinks. "Wait."


The hostess placed their meals down and gave them a smile before leaving to help someone else. The moment she was gone, Emilia grabbed her glass and downed half its content, feeling his eyes on her as she did. 


She sat the rest of it down and nodded. "Continue."


"There's one rule you should know about this deal, if and only if you agree." He went right into character, casually cutting his steak as he spoke.


"One rule?" She waited for him to nod. "And what's that?" 


"This is just for sexual purposes. Nothing, and I mean nothing, will come from this after we're through." 


"Wait," Emilia held up her finger, bending over to grab the clutch by her feet to pull out the small notepad and pen before writing that down. "Okay. Go on."


There was a chuckle and she could hear him taking a sip of his drink before he spoke again. "Having that cleared up, how far have you gone exactly?" 


"What do you mean, Mr. Sty-"


"Harry," 


"Harry." His name sounded so alien yet so alluring to say. "What do you mean?"


"The usual," he paused to take a bite of his steak. "Fingering, fellatio, cunnilingus, handjobs, etc." 


Emilia felt her cheeks go red and she tucked a loose curl behind her ear. 


"You're going to have to be honest with me so I can know the best way to prepare you and make you feel comfortable. I can't take away the pain but I can do that, at least." Harry continued, taking her shyness for something else. 


"I-I know... I just... I-I never - "


"I beg your pardon?" 


"I've never done - " Emilia cut herself off, finding it embarrassing to confess.


"Your 'friend' never mentioned that." His voice was still low but now it was near vicious.


"She - I... I don't think she knows." She admitted, biting down on her lip.


Harry sat back in his seat, looking blown away. 


"Wow."


"I'm sorry," She apologized. "I-I can go, if you wa - "


"No." He shook his head. "I need this money. We'll just separate everything into three categories." 


"Three?"


"Three." Harry nodded. "First category will be all the hand work - fingering and handjobs; second category will be all the mouth work - cunnilingus and fellatio; and the third one will be the real deed." He explained. 


Emilia nodded her head. "Okay. When will we start?" 


"Whenever you're ready." 

 

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