Are You Tiffani Caine? Ch. 03

Maybe when she got home the guilt would hit. None of this felt entirely real anyway. Last night had been a James Bond fantasy and a horny girl's daydream. The money in her purse was too much to feel factual. Maybe what she was about to do this morning would hit her harder. Maybe it would make her feel as bad as she ought to feel.

Or maybe all this stuff the Caller was having her do was changing her...but no, that wasn't right, it was changing her back. Before Adam's death she had loved sex - her drive was higher than Adam's had been and she'd often coaxed him into it. What had happened with him at the end had frightened her into turning that part of herself off and the church provided the context she needed to keep it off, but it was switched on again now. There was no putting it back to sleep. She knew herself well enough to know that from now on she was going to need sex, and if Isaac didn't give it to her...

What? What would she do? She didn't know, but she knew she couldn't just go without the way she had been doing for too long. There was nothing wrong with having physical needs, and if her man refused to do his duty then...then...maybe...

Maybe there was more whore in her than she wanted to admit.

Damn, she needed a workout. Every other day by this time she was already finishing her workout, her muscles were burning with the heat of use, she'd made her lungs and her heart work harder, and she had covered herself in good sweat and taken a hot shower to clean herself up. And here she was sitting on her butt drinking coffee - Wow this coffee is really good - and doing nothing. The hotel would have a gym, but it wasn't like she could go down there in her bathrobe, much less her cocktail dress; and anyway, she didn't want Marku to wake up without her here.

Stretching, that was something she could do. She set her coffee down, took off the robe, and got down on the floor. It wasn't as though she could do her full vinyasa routine without a mat - trying some of her asanas on carpet would be likely to end up with her falling on her keister, and transitions would be impossible. Still, she could do some breathing and simple poses, which would be better than nothing. She spent the next half hour doing the asanas she could, though none of the strenuous postures she preferred, and in the end she did feel clearer-headed. She had never done yoga nude before and she found she quite enjoyed the feeling of the air on her skin, but she knew she wouldn't do it again because yoga was already a questionable practice for Christians and doing it naked out of choice (rather than the present necessity) would have taken it squarely into sin.

When she was done, Marku was still sleeping soundly so she slipped into the shower and soaped herself up good. She debated whether to wash her hair or not, but Marku did have a hair dryer so she wouldn't spend two hours with a wet head; she decided to go ahead. Might as well put these hotel-sized grooming products to good use.

The shower was a good place to think, but the situation between her and Isaac didn't seem to have a simple solution. Her thoughts chased each other like rabbits through her head, never stopping long enough to congeal into sense. If Isaac would just fuck her brains out regularly things would be fine...and if she had a magic unicorn she'd be Queen of the Faeries. If only got her nowhere. She had to deal with reality, and in reality she had no idea what to do.

I can't figure it out now, in a hotel room with unfulfilled duties. When this is done, then I can get my arms around it. Things will be clearer then. For now I have things I need to do.

Blow-drying her hair took a long time so that when she came out of the bathroom it was approaching nine o'clock. Marku was still asleep in the bed, and she stood for a moment watching him. He was kind to her and very generous, but she was pretty sure he and all the other men at the party last night were shady if not outright criminals. In her real life she wouldn't have spoken to him at all, and here she was about to fuck him for, what, the fifth time, while her fiance was getting ready to preach on the wickedness of the flesh.

Things had definitely gotten very strange in her life.

She was already naked so she had nothing to shed before she crawled onto the bed. Slowly, making sure not to awaken him, she pulled the bedclothes down to reveal his bare body. His cock was already semi-erect when she took it in her hand and began stroking it. He became fully erect in only a minute or so, and she paused long enough to fit it with a condom (wild cherry this time, which actually wasn't bad) before taking it into her mouth and all the way to the back of her throat. He began giving little somnolent grunts and moans that became louder and more frequent as she sucked harder and did more with her tongue - it was funny how something like that, which would have dismayed her only a few days ago, now made her proud. Any job worth doing is worth doing right, even a blow job for a Romanian crook.

He stirred once, then again, and then half-opened his eyes and looked down at her. He mumbled something in his native language and pulled his pillow so it propped his head up to where he could watch her. Without breaking her pace she gave him a wink and then turned her attention back to what filled her mouth. She was pretty sure oral wouldn't be the end of it, so she reached back between her legs with one hand and checked herself; she was damp but not wet, so she began to touch herself in the ways her fingers remembered from the days when she used to masturbate. For the first time in seven years, she was giving herself sexual pleasure. She sure was breaking a lot of rules lately.

She was in no hurry to finish him and he was in no hurry to be finished, so the blowjob was long, languid, and included as much teasing as actual effort. He said little, just watching her with a smile and occasionally stroking her hair or running a finger over her cheek when his cock made it bulge. It was a nice moment really, and it occurred to her how much she liked starting the day with sex. What would it be like to be awakened by someone licking her pussy? Because it sounded awesome.

Finally she lifted her mouth off of his dick, still stroking it with her hand as she asked, "Did you want me to finish you like this?"

"No. Ride me."

Good, that's what I wanted to hear - I want more before I leave. "Cowgirl or reverse?"

"Reverse. Your ass is a masterpiece."

Such a direct compliment would have revolted her even a few days ago, but now she found herself smiling. After all, she worked hard on her body and it was nice to have that work recognized, and if someone she had recently had a bunch of sex with didn't have the right to remark on it, then nobody did. She removed the flavored condom and replaced it with a lubricated one, then turned herself around and swung her leg over his hips. She paused, gave her backside a saucy wiggle - this earned her a playful swat on the right cheek from Marku, loud but barely hard enough to sting. "Hey! Did you just...spank me?"

"How could I resist?" he chuckled. "Do you like being spanked?"

"I have no idea, I've never been spanked," she told him. "If you want, we can try it."

"No, I don't think so. Not this morning. I don't want to spoil what little time we have left together by doing something you might not like."

"You are just too sweet!" she said, honestly meaning her words. He was far nicer than she had had any right to expect in this situation. And she still wanted to make him feel good, just like she did last night. He deserved that. She sat down and felt his cock, still lying on his body, press lengthwise against her slit. There was nothing wrong with some good old dry-humping to start things out, and so she started to roll her hips forwards and back, feeling the width of the shaft against her lips. It felt like a promise, a down-payment on good sex, and as she repeated the motion she felt her juices slicken the condom more and more.

"Oh, I see," he said playfully after a few moments. "You're trying to drive me mad with anticipation. It won't work you know. My will is inflexible."

"You know what's inflexible?" Reaching down between her legs, she lifted his cock straight up. "This wonderful thing." And before he could reply, she sat down on it, watching between her legs as it disappeared into her welcoming body.

"Ahh, there we go. Now, ride me gently." She did as she was told, speeding up or slowing down on his command, rolling her hips as he commanded, rocking back and forth or just sitting and grinding on his hard length whenever that was what he wanted. He was teaching her how to please him, how to sense when he wanted one thing or another, how to anticipate his desires, and she loved it. Even aside from giving him the best time she could, he was making her a better lover for when she was finally with Isaac...if Isaac ever pulled his head out of his ass.

It was a long, slow screw punctuated by periods of more frantic activity and then by her backing off to let him cool down before either of them climaxed. Reverse cowgirl became cowgirl became spoons became doggy with her face buried in the pillow, and when he finally came, his orgasm triggered hers. They lay together in a heap afterward, afterglowing and saying very little, and he showered her back and neck with little kisses.

It was after ten when he finally got up and moved to the bathroom. She lingered to order breakfast (she was ravenous and she ordered big - the spinach quiche Marku wanted, plus scrambled eggs, sausage, bacon, hashbrowns, sourdough toast with butter and jam, enough food to stuff them both) and then joined him in the shower to rinse off.

Later they sat together on the sofa in their fluffy bathrobes, eating, feeding each other, and chatting playfully about things to do in the Twin Cities. He seemed particularly interested in the cultural aspects, such as museums, opera, and symphonies, but he also admitted he had never been to a baseball game before. "When I come back, I will have you plan our time together to see all that we can see in the time we have," he told her. "And I will want a Twins game to be a part of it."

She knew she'd feel ashamed of it later, but at the moment she found that she was really looking forward to that. Spending a few days and nights together, great food, great company, showing off what her hometown had to offer, all on his dime - and all topped off with great sex. She could think of much, much worse things the Caller might make her do.

The fact that he anticipated his next trip to happen right about the time she would get married was a problem for another day.

They didn't do very much as their time together ran out. It was relaxed and comfortable and happy, and the only sexual aspect to it was the occasional innuendo or quick flash of skin. Part of her wanted another ravishing before she left, but this was perfect in its way. As the clock edged past 11:30, she finally said, "I guess I'd better go get dressed and make myself presentable. I'm sure I look like a mess."

"Oh, that reminds me, I have something for you. Look in the closet there, the blue bag." Curiosity piqued, she opened the closet door and saw a large blue stand-up shopping bag embossed with the name of some store she'd never heard of in white letters - just looking at the bag made Sara suspect that whatever was in it cost a lot of money. She looked over at him to see him smile and say, "Go into the bathroom and put it on. It's a gift."

"Another gift?" she asked, a dopey smile on her face. "You really shouldn't have, but thank you." She didn't know what it was, so she made sure to grab all her other clothes on the way. Once in the bathroom she reached eagerly into the bag, and the first thing she pulled out was a thong of violet silk. Good, I wasn't looking forward to wearing last night's dirty panties home.

The other thing in the bag was a dress in a lovely lavender shade, and she was smiling as she picked it up - and then the smile froze. The dress was...small. And revealing. Very revealing.

"Oh you must be kidding me," she muttered, rubbing a hand over her disbelieving eyes before approaching it again. Yeah. It wasn't getting any bigger.

It was shockingly brief, but that wasn't the main problem with it. The main problem was the neckline. Daring didn't even start to cover it. She held it up art arm's length, eyeing it dubiously, before deciding that it couldn't really be as skimpy as it looked. So, only one way to find out.

"Well this is crazy," she muttered a moment later, staring into the mirror. The neckline was a square cutout that came down to just above her nipples, held in place by an underwire - but the middle was worst, because there was a cutout between the nipples that came down halfway to her navel and showed major interior sideboob as well as a generous slice of underboob. At the bottom the hemline came to two inches below her butt, unless she raised her arms over her head, in which case it raised it onto her butt and showed her kitty in front. She had no idea how much it cost, but no doubt it was several hundred dollars at least, but that didn't mean she could wear this! This was a dress for some club slut, not a good Christian woman -

But she wasn't a good Christian woman right now, she was an escort. Well not on the inside, but to every appearance and to the knowledge of the man waiting for her, yeah, she was a whore. The Caller had told her to make Marku happy, and if she refused to wear this dress she would not be making him happy. So what choice did she have? This was what she'd be wearing home.

She pulled the dress off again, threw on some makeup, then put on the panties, the dress, and her shoes. She stashed her evening dress and the rest of her clothes from the night before in the shopping bag. After one last look in the mirror to confirm she looked as ridiculous as she felt, she took a deep breath, opened the door, and stepped out.

Marku was reading his tablet when the door opened, and when he looked up and saw her, he smiled enormously. "Oh fetiţă, Tiffani, you look amazing."

She was blushing so deeply she felt faint. She spread her arms and asked, "You really think so?"

"Yes, my dear. Come closer, come here." She crossed the room to the sofa, feeling the dress riding up onto her ass as she moved, and stood in front of him. Her inclination was to cover as much of herself as she could with her posture and hands, but she forced herself to relax, resting her weight on one hip and cocking the other out with her hand on it. He would want her to be self-confident and proud of her looks, so that was what she needed to be whether she felt it or not. He looked her up and down, smiling like a proud parent, and then said, "Turn around, show me the back."

She did as she was told. There was no point in pulling the dress down, because he'd seen everything she had. But he'd want to see something, something that made this expensive purchase worth it, something to show she liked it and was grateful. It occurred to her that he'd really liked it last night when she bent over in front of him when she was undressing...

Screw it, what difference did it make now? She put her feet together and bent forward slowly, sticking her ass out and feeling the dress pull up almost to her lower back. When her head was at knee level she looked back at him and said, "Be honest, Tatin. Can you see my panties when I bend over like this?"

He burst out into a booming laugh, and it was moments before he could assure her with mock gravitas, "No, Tiffani. Everything is fine."

"Oh, good," she said, and waggled her ass at him before standing back up and pulling the dress down over her hips, then straddled his knees facing him and slung her arms around his neck. "Thank you. I can't believe how kind you've been to me. I really mean it. I was so nervous but you took such good care of me. I'm really grateful."

"So you like the dress?" he asked, resting his hands on her hips.

"It's beautiful. It's the most beautiful dress I've ever owned." She covered up her lie by moving her lips to his and giving him a long, slow kiss, smiling shyly at him as she pulled away.

"Ah, fetiţă, I wish I could keep you with me, but my time is up and I have things I must do. When I come back, if you are still with your agency, we will go out and you will wear this dress for me again."

"Of course. I can't wait." She kissed him again, then again, then said goodbye and kissed him once more at the door. Then it was over, and she walked toward the elevator with her shopping back in one hand and her bulging purse in the other.

On the trip down she shared her elevator with an elderly man and a girl younger than Sara; the old man devoured Sara with his eyes while the girl shot daggers and practically dragged him out when the door opened onto the lobby. Crossing the lobby was an adventure, and even though the walk was short her dress was on the curve of her ass by the time she made the doors. If anyone thought I might not be a whore, I've just removed all doubt. Whee.

A town car was waiting for her, a male driver she hadn't seen before holding a sign saying Tiffani. In moments they were on the road. It was over. She had done what she was told to do and succeeded with flying colors. Surely even as big a son of a bitch as the Caller would have to be satisfied. She texted Samantha at Dahlia that the date was over and texted the Musketrixes that she had survived, was heading home, and would tell them more later, and then she just sat with as blank a mind as she could manage and watched the city pass by.

Home. She was fortunate enough not to run into any of her neighbors on her way up to the apartment (not that she was close to any of them, but she still didn't want anyone she knew to see her dressed this way - a dress like this on a Sunday morning could mean only a walk of shame). Her apartment felt strange, as though it had been much longer than eighteen hours since she had been here. There was a layer of gauzy unreality on this, the evidence of her normal life, and she simply stood in the living room in her obscene dress for almost ten minutes before she decided to take a very long bath.

Once in the tub she checked her phone again. The Musketrixes wanted to know how things went and she could only be honest with a "Surprisingly well" answer. Samantha texted her back to say that Marku had given her another rave review and to ask how she was doing; Sara didn't feel like getting into details with a pimp, so she simply texted back that she was good and glad to be home, then settled back unto the tub to soak.

It was over twenty minutes later when the phone rang with an unidentified number. She let it ring once, twice, three times, and finally answered. "Hello."

"Are you Tiffani Caine?" came the disguised voice.

She surprised herself by feeling absolutely nothing when she said, "Yeah."