Nine Months Past…I’d been meeting with clients for almost a month when I got a text from Marla asking for a face-to-face. Marla had been great about letting me stash newly bought clothes and shoes in boxes I was stacking in her storage closet next to her office. There was no way I could explain these expensive and very risque clothes to my Mom. Dresses showing so much bosom above and so much thigh below would have Mom reaching for a drink. Then another and another… I couldn’t even imagine what she would say about my beloved black leather, knee length stiletto boots with 5-inch heels.When I got to her office Marla didn’t look happy. “Viv, I’ve been patient. Letting you fill my storage closet with your things. Letting you use my bathroom to put on make-up. My patience is at an end. You need to move out of my office soon! It’s past time for you to have your own apartment.””I know. I know, Marla. It’s just… I can’t seem to save enough money,” I explained. Money seemed to flow through my fingers faster than cum through a client’s dick. There was always another pair of shoes I just had to have!Marla looked astonished. “You don’t have the money!? Viv, you’re sitting on an ass that I charge clients a very high price to use! A very high price of which you get the majority. Really, Viv. Have you no self-control?” Marla looked at me slouching in her chair and frowned. “Speaking of sitting, young lady, posture is the first thing a client notices.”I sat up with my back ram-rod straight and smiled guilelessly. “I thought it was my big tits men noticed first.””Tits will get you only so far, Viv. My clients aren’t paying me top dollar for common street whores! They want poise and sophistication in addition to blow jobs. It’s best you begin cultivating those attributes along with your oral skills. If all a client wants is a dick sucking whore he can find those standing on any corner of Fifth Street. If he wants a young lady who enjoys giving oral sex he comes to me.”Marla leaned back against her chair’s back (with perfect posture, of course!) and tapped a manicured fingernail on her desk. “Viv, it’s your money. I can’t tell you how to spend it. But I can suggest you put together enough to get an apartment before you buy more dresses and shoes! I know exactly how much you’re earning since I’m the one depositing the money into your bank account.”Marla went quiet. Considering and making a decision. “All right! Here’s the deal…”Marla sat up straight. (Damn her perfect posture!) She pointed a slim finger at me. “By next Friday you will have an apartment. Any box in my storage room past that date gets tossed. Any make-up cluttering my bathroom gets shit-canned. To help you earn enough money quickly, I have a client who wants three girls this Saturday. It’s a bachelor party. A car will be outside my office at 4pm to pick you and the other girls up. The party will last until 4am Sunday morning. Needless to say, the fee you’ll get for a twelve hour party with fifteen or so men should be more than enough for you to rent any apartment you find next week.””Fifteen!” The thought of that many men fucking me was frightening. “But, Marla, it’s the weekend. I can’t tell my Mom I’m working…” I began trying to weasel my way out of this ‘party’.”Don’t even try, Viv.” The slender finger was pointed at me again for emphasis. “Tell your Mom you’re doing a sleepover with a girl you met at an office you’re working at or something. This one appointment on Saturday will earn you enough money that you can spend the next week apartment hunting. I mean it, Viv. Next Friday you’re out of here or all those beautiful dresses and shoes cluttering up my storage closet go into a dumpster!””Not my shoes!” I was horrified. It was sinking in that Marla meant every word. I had five clients scheduled between now and next Friday. But I needed cash in the bank now to go apartment hunting. If it took letting fifteen men fuck me to save my shoes… I nodded, resigned to my fate. “Okay, I’ll be here Saturday.”Marla smiled. She’d won but wasn’t going to gloat. “By the way, Viv, have you ever been with a woman? Have you ever wondered…””What? I thought you said fifteen guys?””Fifteen or so guys and two more of my girls. I’d be astonished if my client doesn’t want some girl-on-girl-on-girl action at some point to entertain his guests.””I, ahh… I thought about it a couple of times in high school…,” I hesitantly admitted. “But, no. I’ve never been with a girl, you know, that way.””I don’t like the idea of sending a virgin to a job this large,” Marla said thoughtfully and then smiled as she picked up her phone. After checking her iPhone’s schedule book she auto-dialed Ankara escort a number. “Sandy? I have a client for you. Tomorrow. 10am. Female. Two hours.” Marla listened for a few moments then looked at me and smiled. “She’s gorgeous and, Sandy? She’s a virgin. Do everything to make sure no part of her is virginal when she leaves….. Thank you, Sandy. I’ll text you where to meet later.”I listened to Marla’s side of the conversation and my mouth dropped open when I began to realize that she was scheduling me as a client!”10am, tomorrow,” Marla told me in her no-nonsense voice after hanging up. “I’ll text you the hotel and room number. I’ll pay for Sandy and the room and take the fee from your future pay. Congratulations, Ms. Olivia. You just booked your first call girl.”The Present…I knew something was out of the ordinary when Marla asked that I visit her office after my last client of the day. Usually we communicate via phone and texts. Sometimes two, even three weeks might pass between visits. When Marla handed me a letter and showed me the contents of a large package, I knew I was right. There are times when even a whore just has to ask, “What… The… Fuck?” This was one of them.The instructions in the letter which had come with the package were clear enough. I was to arrive early enough to change and set the scene… How I was to act… But, I couldn’t help myself, glancing at the contents of the package again. I started laughing.We were in Marla’s office and I stopped laughing when she frowned across the desk. But I couldn’t help uttering some girly giggles as I read the instructions again. “If you can’t control yourself when the client is in the room, maybe I should give the appointment to another of my girls,” Marla observed with the same frowny face.Thinking of the very fat fee the client had offered, I shook my head, “No. No, I can do this. It’s just something I never even thought about.” I looked in the package once more and pulled an item out. “I’ll look like an idiot.””Yes, well… I’m sure the money will make you feel better. Ours not to reason why and all that… Just try it on to see if it fits.” Minutes later I re-entered the office. Marla looked at me then made a down motion with a finger. I got on hands and knees and at another finger command shuffled through a complete 360 turn. When next I looked, Marla had her hand over her mouth to hide a grin. She didn’t laugh, but there was definite mirth in her voice as she declared that it fit me. After clearing her throat while regaining control of her facial expression, she asked, “So, do you want the assignment? It’s a little later in the day than usual for you but now that you’ve moved into your ‘Mom Apartment’,” Marla air quoted, “I didn’t think that would matter.”For the last four evenings I’d busied myself moving clothes and other things from my bedroom in my parents’ house into the tiny efficiency apartment that my Mom and Dad would think was where I lived. Mom, of course had to drive into the city with a car load of my things to check out my new digs. She wasn’t impressed. Mom would have been impressed with my other apartment, but I hoped she’d never find out about my much more spacious brownstone two blocks away. Especially what I did to earn the money that let me afford it!My Mom Apartment was a complete lie. But so had my life been for the last ten months. My parents thought I worked office jobs through a temp agency. While technically Marla did run a temp agency out of which I worked, when I was requested to meet a client at his office I expected to be bent over a desk or to open my legs on a couch instead of opening a filing cabinet.”I’ll take it,” I declared.After changing, I took the letter of instructions and package home with me. I usually run the stairs for the cardio and to help keep my leg muscles toned. This evening I took the elevator. As soon as my door was closed behind me I bent my knees and reached down to take off my ‘fuck me’ stilettos. Entering my den, I took a moment to ‘ahhh’ and enjoy as I stretched my little piggies out on the thick, soft carpet that had cost me more money than I ever though I’d pay for a rug. Setting the package on my coffee table I sat on the sofa and massaged my feet. God, that felt so good…I could easily have stretched out on the sofa and taken a nap. I was tired. I’d had three clients today. Times and distances between places we met had worked out perfectly. Going from place to place, man to man… Satisfying each of them… It was positively exhausting! It was after 5 pm, the time I told my parents I left work as an office temp. Telling my Mom the plausible Ankara escort bayan lie that my ‘bosses’ didn’t like employees taking personal phone calls during working hours, I kept my phone turned off most of the day. Turning my phone on I checked for messages. One from my Mom asking me to call back after work. Hitting the auto dial, I hiked my short skirt up more and began unhooking hose from garter belt. Mom didn’t want to talk about anything important. Her ‘baby girl’ hadn’t slept in the same room she’d had since she was a baby for five nights. Mom just wanted to hear my voice. I’d just had my nineteenth birthday, but something told me I’d still be my Mom’s baby girl when I was forty.Wiggling out of my dress and garter belt, I laid them on the cushion next to me and began rolling my hose down as we talked. My Mom’s a talker. She’d keep me on the phone all night talking about nothing if I let her. Naked now, I padded into the kitchen with my purse. In a small drawer I kept even smaller plastic baggies. Setting my phone to conference call so I could still hear and talk to my Mom, I put the phone on the counter. Fishing between my pussy lips I found the string and pulled out the tampon I’d inserted to prevent leaking cum from wetting my dress. My dry cleaning bill was high enough already! I dropped the tampon into the baggie and wrapped it up before tossing both into the kitchen garbage can.Washing my fingers off, “Mom, I just want to hang out in my new apartment this weekend… I have more of my stuff here than in my room now and… Okay, I’ll come home for Sunday brunch…” Remembering other duties while I was in the kitchen… The change coins in my purse I’d collected during the day went into the large, lacquered box I’d found at an antique shop. Opening the large, decorative metal container on the counter marked FLOUR, I tossed my tip money for the day on top of the pile of cash already inside. Opening the smaller, matching decorative metal container marked SUGAR, I took out a handful of condoms and pushed them into the small, side pouch inside my purse. My clients don’t usually ask for condoms but two of my clients had today. It’s always best to have more than you’ll need than not enough when at work.”Fourth of July? That’s on a Friday this year, right? Yeah, I’ll take a day off and you, me and Dad can drive to Uncle Jimmy’s on Thursday to visit for a couple of days and for the cookout. I haven’t seen Uncle Jimmy since he came to my high school graduation…”Gathering my clothes I went to my bedroom and inspected each article. Dress was good, no cum stains. Sniffing at the arm pits after a quick spray of fabric freshener, I hung it up. My black hose showed no sign of runs but, picking with a fingernail at what might be dried cum, I shrugged and carried hose and garter belt into the bathroom. Running warm water in the sink, I added a splash of mild soap and left hose and belt to soak while I took my bath.I completed these tasks while giving ‘Yes’, ‘No’ and ‘Really?’ responses as required while Mom kept rambling on. Sitting on my bed I inspected my heels and wiped then off with a Shammy before wrapping them carefully back in their box. I gave my little piggies another good rub before I played the hunger card and the need to fix something to eat as an excuse to end the call after having to give Mom a fictitious menu of what I was going to eat.Twenty minutes later, after a quick shower to wash my hair and to give myself a good scrubbing between my thighs, I was finally where I’d wanted to be since spreading my legs for my last client… Lying in my tub, relaxing in hot water with bubbles tickling my nose. I’m in love with my huge, oversized tub. Even stretched out full length I could lie immersed in hot water without my head or feet touching the sides. I’m six feet tall, so that should give you some idea of my beloved tub’s dimensions.After adding more bath oil to the steaming water it was Inspection Time… Fingernail polish looked good for another day. Feeling my mound and pussy lips, I made a mental note to make an appointment for a waxing next week. Continuing my inspection down my body, I raised my feet until my little piggies rose up through the bubbles like two submarine periscopes. My toe nail polish passed inspection. Down periscope! Dive! Dive! Dive! Later, after a quick shower to wash off bubbles, I ate the only thing I felt like making for my supper. I munched on pop tarts with a large glass of milk while surfing TV channels, combing out my damp hair and rubbing skin lotion on my knees and elbows. “Don’t judge me,” I told Imaginary Mom who was sitting Escort Ankara on the other side of my couch and frowning at my diet. “I know how to cook but spending all that time cooking for just one is so much trouble!” Big frown. “I’ll cook something healthy tomorrow night. Promise!”Drying my long hair took the last of my energy. Turning off the lights I went to bed. In the dark, lying in my bed, I couldn’t help laughing when my thoughts took a weird turn. Contrasting my days of sex, cocks and cum with my nights of TV shows, pop tarts and an empty bed… I slept late. My first appointment wasn’t until 11 am. Standing at my kitchen counter I munched more pop tarts with my morning coffee. From a closet I dug out the large sports bag I’ve had since high school when a boyfriend and I had used the excuse of learning how to play tennis at the high school tennis courts as a reason to slip away from parental supervision. Tennis wasn’t what I was interested in learning about at the time. Instead, we studied senior year level biology and anatomy under the bleachers of the high school football field. I couldn’t help smiling as I remembered those lessons while trying to stay quiet and hidden from those around us who were using the athletic field for non-sexual activities.. But I had other things to do today that required my boobs and pussy. Everything I needed for my special afternoon client fit inside the bag.I wouldn’t have time to come back to my apartment between appointments. I’d need to take the bag with me while meeting my morning client. Deciding to continue the sports theme I put on what would pass as clothes for tennis. Not wearing a bra would have to supply my nod to sexy. If anyone asked, I could claim I had a tennis date after my business meeting with Tim.Except for our first time together, Tim and I had always met in hotel rooms. I already had an appointment scheduled for next week to meet him again. His phone call to Marla yesterday to book me on such short notice had come out of nowhere. I already had a morning client booked but when Tim offered triple my usual fee, Marla had moved another of her girls to cover the other appointment. I didn’t mind the extra fee but I thought meeting at his office was a bit strange if he wanted enough sex to make that amount of money worth while. What was also a surprise was instructions for me to remember to pass myself off as a prospective German investor. That would be easy. My height and blonde hair proclaimed to anyone looking that I had some Nordic heritage. Turns out I have quite a knack for languages. Surprised the hell out’a me since I rarely studied in high school, but after three years of taking German classes for the easy C grade, I had a decent command of the spoken and written language.”Guten Tag, Frau Phillips. Ich habe ein Treffen mit… Sorry, I say I have meeting with Timothy Duncan.””Yes, Fräulein Fälschung. One second…” Fälschung was my private joke when I was passing as German. It translated to ‘fake’ in English. Many clients I met at their office wanted people to think I was something other than an American whore there to give the boss a nooner.Ms. Phillips dialed Tim to tell him, “Your eleven o’clock is here”.Tim appeared and I was struck by the change in his behavior from our previous meetings. Nervous, eyes darting everywhere and… I could smell the alcohol on his breath. He greeted me and then surprised me again by inviting Ms. Phillips to come with us and to bring her Notary Stamp. I wasn’t sure what the hell was going on. I wasn’t sure what elaborate fantasy Tim was acting out. Did he want Ms. Phillips to join us in a threesome? I looked at her for the first time as a potential sex partner. Not quite to my taste but I’d done worse. I went with the flow. I’ve gotta keep the client happy, after all.I spoke in broken English and ‘forgot’ at times, slipping into German and asking, ‘Where is the nearest train station?’ and other nonsense. I played along and signed papers as Tisla Fälschung, the name I used meeting clients at their offices. The papers seemed to be written in German, but I didn’t have time to read before Tim would have me signing another. I thought this was taking play acting to the extreme.Once Tim decided enough papers had been signed and notarized, he made a pretense of looking at his watch and informing Ms. Phillips she could go on to lunch. He wouldn’t be needing her. He was going to answer any questions ‘Fräulein Fälschung might have,’ before going to lunch himself. No threesome after all… Once the door had closed behind Ms. Phillips, Tim collapsed onto the couch on which we’d had our first fuck. Agitated, he got up almost as soon as he was seated. Going to his desk he brought out a bottle of scotch and a glass out of the top drawer. Knocking back a shot he slumped heavily onto his chair behind the desk. This was not the Tim I was used to meeting.”Tim, what the hell is wrong with you? What’s going on?” I asked.