By: Giselle Renarde

Available from All Romance ebooks| Other books by Giselle Renarde
Published By: Excessica Publishing
Published: Mar 04, 2011
ISBN # 9781609824617

Word Count: 16,400

Heat Index

In the back pages of Fuck Weekly, Roisin counted fifty-seven photos of hot Asian escorts “in your area,” “available 24/7,” “satisfaction guaranteed.” Fifty-seven coy schoolgirl types posing with pigtails in their long black hair and teddy bears between their little tits. Roisin squirmed in her wet panties. What would they think of her if she called up? Some dry old wannabe dyke? She gazed at her phone’s face like it held the answers to all life’s mysteries. Maybe they’d think she had a guy watching from the closet. Did other women visit prostitutes? Maybe the girls in Fuck Weekly got requests like hers all the time.

Sitting on her living room floor, Roisin contemplated the photo of a bashful-looking girl called Alice—BBBJ? What the hell did that mean?–-when another picture caught her eye. Neo. She had crimson-black hair and a sneaky smile. “Anti-establishment artist”—exactly the type of girl she’d have gone after in her University days…if she had the nerve to go for any girl back then. Nineteen years and two straight marriages later, she didn’t even have the balls to ask a guy out, let alone approach a living, breathing female.

There was a catch, of course. There’s always a catch. Above Neo’s picture, in cold black typeface, hung the word, “ToyGirl.” Not what Roisin expected to be drawn to. Although, twenty years ago she’d never have anticipated requiring a prostitute’s services. Granted, back then the first of the genetically engineered ToyGirls wouldn’t have been more than ten years old. Aside from their creator, nobody knew they existed. Of course, it was a big controversy when it first came out that genetically male children were bred from scratch only to be pumped full of female hormones. When governments cracked down sex trafficking, science took over. The ToyGirls were like Geishas, in a sense. They were bred to a purpose. They fulfilled a need. Was that so wrong?

Roisin felt the conflict swaying her left and right. Neo was ten times more beautiful than any of those other women. And just think about that body: lovely soft features, blood-red lips, luscious tits, and a fully functional eight-inch cock. The ad specified. More importantly, Neo’s blurb said, “I specialize in first-timers.” She probably meant men who’d never been with a ToyGirl, but Roisin took it as a good sign nonetheless. She placed the call.

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