("`-''-/").___..--''"`-._ `6_ 6 ) `-. ( ).`-.__.`) (_Y_.)' ._ ) `._ `. ``-..-' _..`--'_..-_/ /--'_.' ,' (((' (((-((('' (((( K R I S T E N' S C O L L E C T I O N _________________________________________ WARNING! This text file contains sexually explicit material. If you do not wish to read this type of literature, or you are under age, PLEASE DELETE THIS FILE NOW!!!! _________________________________________ Scroll down to view text Archive name: hooker2.txt (mf,ff,prost,voy,oral,etc) Authors name: J BOSWELL (J.BOSWELL@usa.net) Story title : Hots for a Hooker ----------------------------------------------------------------- (c) Copyright November 1998 by J BOSWELL, all rights, except those explicitly detailed below, ARE RESERVED BY THE AUTHOR. Electronic distribution (as a text file on an "adults only" site) is permitted without alteration, but inclusion in any type of "publication" offered for sale (eg., book, magazine, CD-ROM, etc.), or "subscription/membership" sites requires the author's explicit permission. WARNING: This work of fiction is intended to be read by adults only. The author has uploaded it only to "Adults, only" sites, and requests that you exercise the same discretion. Also, this is fiction -- in real life, please protect your lover and yourself by practicing safe sex. ------------------------------------------------------------------ The Hots for a Hooker by J BOSWELL(J.BOSWELL@usa.net) A Story In Three Parts Part 2 of 3 SUNDAY, JUNE 23, 1996 Sunday morning. I called Laura. There was no answer. Maybe she was at church. I was too late for the buffet, so I was sitting in the coffee shop, reading the paper and eating a cinnamon bun when she walked in. "Hi, Mike." She was radiant. She had washed the "punk" color out of her hair, and it was back to the chestnut color and she had a bright red Polo shirt on with a pair of sharply-creased khakis, red belt, purse, and shoes. Class. "Hi, Tiffany." "So, you were too late for the buffet, too?" "Yeah, I slept in, today." "Me, too. I was up until after four!" "Wow. With the guy you were dancing with?" "No, the horn-player in the band playing across the street. Fuckin' musicians are nocturnal. I shouda known. Say, you're keeping a pretty close eye on me, aren't you?" I could feel myself blush. "Well, ah... you're the best thing to look at around here, and I don't have much else to do at night." "Thanks. 'Nother coffee?" "I'll get it." "Thanks, Mike. Cream, no sugar." She was so casual. I knew what she was and she knew I knew, and she was absolutely casual about how she was earning her living. No sign of shame, embarrassment, or pain. No expression of guilt. Nothing. I couldn't believe it. If she showed anything about being a whore, it was enthusiasm. After we finished coffee, Tiffany wiped her mouth and reapplied her red lipstick. Then she smiled brightly at me and asked, "So, what are we going to do today, Mike?" We had another great day. We walked in the bright, clear air. We went to the movies and shared a popcorn and a soda. We shopped for CDs. We had an early dinner in a restaurant overlooking the river. And then the day was over and she left. * * * * * As usual, I was the first customer in the lounge. I took a seat at the empty bar and waited for her. I watched the two bartenders disappear one at a time behind the door in the back of the bar. Then I watched Tiffany walk into the bar in her emerald dress. By now, I had a pretty good guess what was going on behind that door. The Sunday night crowd was light. People drifted in and out. The tourists and doctors were gone. A few engineers were checking-in a day early. New hotel guests stood at the doorway and stepped in or turned away. There was a D-J, but he kept it mostly to mellow oldies and nobody was dancing. Tiffany sat at the bar. Men came and went. A man lit her cigarette and bought her a drink before he left. Finally, she was surrounded -- a guy on each side and one behind her. There was a lot of laughing and flirting. One of the men wrote something on a napkin and then each of the other two did the same. Tiffany tore the napkin into pieces. She cupped the pieces and then pulled them out, one at a time. The men were joking back and forth as she did it, and then she left with one of the men. After another round, the other two left. I went up to my room at midnight. I hadn't seen Tiffany again. * * * * * MONDAY, JUNE 24, 1996 Monday morning. I felt like hell. I had switched from beer to scotch waiting for Tiffany to re-appear, but she never did and I drank too much. Hungover, already away from home for a week and another week to go, another week of classes to teach -- no wonder I was depressed. Bullshit! I was depressed because of Tiffany. I was depressed because I had such strong feelings for a whore, a hooker, a slut. In my life, I had never felt the excitement, the lust I felt for Tiffany. I wanted to be with her. I wanted to tell her, "Stop this! Quit right now! I'll take care of you!" But she would laugh at me. And what would I tell Laura -- that Tiffany excites me more than her? There goes my marriage. I showered, dressed and dragged myself to work. The lounge was already open when I got there. Brian was behind the bar, but Tiffany was not in sight. Probably on her first fuck of the evening! After one drink, I went into the restaurant for dinner. When I got back to the lounge, Tiffany was at a table with a couple. They were acting like they were life-long friends. They talked and drank and smoked for almost an hour. I was wondering why Tiffany was taking herself off the market for so long, especially with all the new conventioneers in town. Finally, the three of them stood and made their way out of the lounge together. Was something kinky going to happen, or was it my overactive imagination? It was almost midnight when Tiffany returned to the bar. There were only a few open seats and she sat next to me, but didn't acknowledge me. Brian walked over with her drink. "I think I want a real drink, Brian." He poured orange juice over cubes and vodka. "Extra tough duty?" She exhaled a large plume of smoke, "Get this... I was his birthday present! He's always wanted two women at the same time." Brian raised an eyebrow. "How did it go?" "Well the first twenty minutes were swell, but after that, I was doing things I haven't done since I was twelve at an all-girls summer camp. I began to wonder whose idea it really was. I can tell you which of them got their money's worth, and it wasn't him!" Brian laughed along with Tiffany. My boner was threatening to rip my trousers. "You done for the night?" Brian asked. Tiffany took a sip of her screwdriver, "Why? You gonna take me away from all this?" "I made you that offer last week, Tiff. It's still on the table, whenever you want to take me up on it." "I know, Brian. You're sweet and I'm givin' you a hard time. Well, it's late, but I wouldn't mine catching a nightcap." Brian nodded. "Well, the guy in the blue suit on the other side of the bar asked me if I knew any girls that he didn't have to impress all night." Tiffany looked across the bar. "He doesn't look like a cop. Bring me another screwdriver over there, Brian. Thanks." Within ten minutes, Tiffany and the blue suit were going up in the elevator. I went to my room and fell asleep still dressed. * * * * * TUESDAY, JUNE 25, 1996 Tuesday afternoon. The happy hour crowd was filling the lounge when I got there. Tiffany was at the bar in a deep conversation with "Brian the Bartender." She looked upset. I couldn't tell if she was angry or scared. Brian stopped talking and looked toward the doorway. I turned around and saw a large, older man standing there in a dark shirt and suit. Brian nodded to him and Tiffany looked at him and stubbed out her cigarette. She made her way through the crowd and walked up to the dark man. Was Brian pimping for Tiffany, I wondered. Last week he had introduced Tiffany to the little geeky guy, and last night to the blue suit, so maybe he was. At the doorway, the dark man grabbed Tiffany by the arm and quickly led her away. It was obvious he wasn't a client. I followed as fast as I could, but by the time I reached the lobby, they were gone. Strange. Had she been arrested? Back in my room, with a bottle of scotch and a local college ballgame on the tv, I fell asleep before the fourth inning. * * * * * WEDNESDAY, JUNE 26, 1996 Wednesday afternoon. Everything looked normal in the lounge. I was the first customer, Brian was behind the bar and soon after he returned from a short disappearance, Tiffany made her entrance. She was wearing the blue-pinstripe suit with that half-blouse thing under it. To my surprise, she sat down next to me. "Hi, Mike. How's it hangin'?" "Hi, Tiffany. I'm fine, but it doesn't do too much 'hangin'' when you're around." "You're a sweet guy, Mike. Are you saving your pennies for me?" "Yeah, I have enough for an hour. I'd like to make it later in the week." "Whenever you want. Hey, how about this? You hang around late and if you're my last... ah... date of the evening, I can stay longer -- off the clock, of course." "Gee, that's really nice of you." "Hey, anything for a buddy." We sat and drank our drinks. The bar was still empty. It was nice sitting with her, being quiet. "Tiffany, can I ask you something?" "As long as I don't have to answer, if I don't wanna." "Sure, of course. I was just wondering what the whole routine with the bartenders is everyday." She looked at me and smiled, then leaned close and whispered into my ear, "And what do you think the routine is?" I moved my head around and whispered in her ear, "I think you 'service' the bartenders before you work the lounge. I hope it's for more than free drinks." "It better be for more than a couple a' club sodas. You have to spend money to make money, Mike. Brian gets a blow-job and a hundred dollar bill, every day, so I can work the lounge. On the weekends, the extra bartender gets a b-j, too. It was a good deal, even with the money. Sometimes, bartenders will go for just the head or just the money, but Brian's smart and he's been around too long. My problems started last night. I was busted by hotel security." "The guy in black?" "You saw? Yeah, he's the head man and he was on vacation last week, but Brian warned me he's sharp and knows his job. Apparently, he was doing a routine review of some security tapes and saw me enough times here in the lounge and with some clients up in the halls and knew what I was up to." "But you're back here, working." "Yeah, Brian's right, he is smart. What's the benefit to him if he calls the cops? I'm not hurtin' his business in here -- I look good and I act discretely. He just wanted a piece of the action, too. I'm not the only girl working this hotel, and they pay, too." I was having trouble taking deep breaths. "Sex?" She exhaled her smoke and shook her head. "I wish just sex. He got a thousand for the week and then he and his night manager buddy bent me over his desk and... um... had their way with me. Nasty bastards." "Did they hurt you?" "No, not hurt. They just liked manhandling and humiliating me, to let me know who was in charge. Now, I have to be in his office every night at seven for a repeat performance, before he goes home to the wife and kids. You know... for a girl that makes her living the way I do, I sure seem to be the one paying a lot of money to men to have sex with them." "Can you afford it, Tiffany?" "Well, I've worked cheaper places than this lounge, but the action is good and there's a pretty high level of clients, here. Tips have been good. Yeah, it's been worth it." "But Brian and the Security guy, it sounds like extortion -- blackmail -- to me." Tiffany patted my upper arm, "Relax, Mike, it's just business." People were beginning to come into the lounge. Someone plugged in the juke box. The seats at the bar were beginning to fill up. Tiffany stood up. "No offense, Mike, but I'd like to get a session in before seven. That bastard's messing up my evening routine. See ya soon, Sweetie." And off she went. I stayed for a while, watching Tiffany and wondering how many miles of cock she had sucked and fucked. It took a while -- I don't think the engineers were as aggressive as the doctors -- but Tiffany finally paired off with a guy. I saw him order another drink as Tiffany shook her head as she glanced at her watch -- it was 6:30, already. They sat there and talked a few minutes, and then Tiffany leaned in close and whispered in his ear. He reacted to what she said with a shocked look and then a nod. The two of them rose and made their way to the restroom corridor. I waited a few minutes and followed. As I washed my hands in the men's room, I saw that the happy couple was in the handicap stall. Tiffany was sitting and the client was standing facing her. No doubt from the sound being made by both of them, she was sucking his brains out through his dick. I was still drying my hands under the air dryer when the stall opened and Tiffany casually walked out, flashing me a hundred and two twenties. The client was now parked on the throne trying to catch his breath, and Tiffany would be in time for her seven o'clock appointment. I left the hotel and had a great meal at a little Italian restaurant. I think I had had my fill of the lounge -- I knew what went on there with Tiffany. I went back to my room and fell asleep early. * * * * * THURSDAY, JUNE 27, 1996 Thursday evening. I had kept the class a little later that day, to make sure we could get out early on Friday. By the time I had eaten, showered and dressed, it was almost nine o'clock when I walked into the lounge. Brian brought me a scotch and said, "She told me to tell you to have a drink on her and wait. She's been upstairs for a while. She'll probably be back down, soon." I thanked him and wondered what he was thinking about Tiffany. She was obviously a whore, yet he had invited her back to his place more than once. A little before ten, Tiffany appeared at my shoulder. "Well, hello, Mike. Where have you been?" "I might ask you the same thing." She laughed. She was wearing a short, tight skirt, low heels, nude stockings and a silky white blouse -- as usual, she looked fresh and terrific. "Big deal, you know where I've been and what I've been doing. With whom and in what room number are unnecessary facts. Are we on for later tonight?" "I'm game if you're game." "Okay, it's a date. Let me sit down here for a while and if nothing happens, we'll go up to your room. If something does come up -- oops, did I say that? -- I'll come to your room after I'm done. Deal?" "It's a plan." She took a seat across the bar from me and lit a cigarette. She hadn't finished her club soda before she was approached by a guy who looked like he was in his fifties. They conducted their business quickly and started for the door. As she passed me, Tiffany pointed up with her finger. I went to my room to wait for her. * * * * * It seemed to take forever, but eventually, there was a soft knock on the door. "Hi, Tiffany. I was beginning to think you forgot me." "Busy, busy night, Mike. Sorry to keep you waiting. Do you have any booze here?" "Scotch, and I can call room service for anything else." "No, scotch is fine. On the rocks." We sat and had a drank. We didn't talk. Tiffany would sway one of her legs to the side, and her tight little skirt would rise farther up her thigh, each time. In no time, the tops of her stockings were exposed, then the white flesh above that. I was getting hot, and I knew from the smile on her face, she knew it. "Mike, don't you think it's a shame that pantyhose are so damned practical? From my own unscientific research, I would say about one hundred percent of men prefer stockings!" She spread her leg, again. "How about you, Mike?" "Ahem... I think I'd like to start, Tiffany." She started to unbutton her blouse, exposing a black lace bra. Her skirt was under her butt and I could see she had matching panties on. "All right, but I haven't finished my drink and we have all night." Her fingers played with the bra clasp before it popped open. She stood up and walked towards me, the bra cups moving and almost -- but not quite -- exposing her breasts. I was gone! I grabbed her and threw her on the bed. I dropped my slacks and underwear. My cock was engorged and throbbing. I pulled her panties aside enough to let me penetrate her, and then I was in to my balls. I was fucking her like some kind of animal, and she was fucking me right back. I moved the bra cups aside and attacked her breasts with my hands and my mouth. Her cunt was tight and warm and wet and I could feel her muscles squeezing my dick. She was too much! I came with a loud moan and spurted my cum into her over and over and over again. It was over too soon! After a while, Tiffany stood up and undressed and went into the bathroom. When she came out she freshened our drinks and then got into bed with me. "You were hot, Mike." "You make me that way." "It's funny. Last time you wanted me naked as a jay-bird, and, tonight, we did it almost fully clothed. You were horny." "Yeah, I was." I paused. I told myself to keep my mouth closed, but I couldn't do it. "Do you get horny, Tiffany?" "Sure I do. I'm human. I usually like what I'm doin'." We laid there side-by-side, quietly, cuddling and drinking. Tiffany had a couple of cigarettes -- I didn't bother telling her it was a 'no smoking' room. It was a nice, warm moment. But instead of focusing on keeping us in that mood, I had to open my trap, again. "How busy was your 'busy night,' Tiffany?" "You just love talkin' 'bout my career, don't you, Mike?" "I guess I'm just curious. I told you, I've never done this kind of stuff before." "Okay, Mike, I'll tell you, but it better give you the desired effect -- I'm not through with you, yet. "Okay, you want to know how many guys I fucked and sucked tonight, right? How many guys? Or how many times? Oh, hell, I'll just tell you everything that happened." I think I was blushing as I nodded. Her hand slipped under the blanket and cradled my soft dick. "Well, first there was Brian. I thought he'd give me the day off because I spent the night with him at his place, but he wanted his b-j in the backroom as soon as he got here, this afternoon. "Then I picked-up an engineer in the bar. A fuck in his room. Then I rushed down to the security office for their 'nightly' d-p." "A d-p, Tiffany? What's a d-p?" "Double penetration, Mike. Two guys, two holes filled. Any combo of ass, mouth or pussy. Tonight was mouth and pussy. Then Mr. Security felt energetic, so I had to suck him hard again, so he could fuck my ass as the other guy watched. "Back in the lounge, I met another engineer who wanted head. Then another quick head-only date. Then the older guy you saw with me -- he ate me like a man who loved it and gave me a very nice fuck. And now you." Her hand was gripping my now hard cock. "Ooo... I think we have company, Mike." She threw the covers off and knelt on the bed in front of me. "Wanna do it doggie-style? C'mon, let's do it this way." I knelt behind her and inched my cock forward. She reached under her tummy and gently grasped the head of my penis, guiding it to her warm slit. "Wait!" she said. "What? Why?" "Does my ass look good from back there?" "Sure. It looks terrific." "Then fuck me in the ass, Mike. Have you ever butt-fucked a woman?" "No... I... I never tried it before." "You've never fucked your wife in the ass?" "No." "Then fuck me there, Mike. I want to be your first butt-fuck!" I didn't have to be asked twice. Tiffany put some lubricant on the head of my cock and I adjusted my aim and pressed my head against her anus. It was tight. I pressed harder and I could see her anus begin to open and my penis start to go in. My god! I thought her pussy was tight! I was soon in all the way and almost out of control. She was so tight and hot and her muscles gripped and loosened around me. She reached under herself and grasped my balls. She always got me to where I didn't care about lasting long, or worry about her pleasure. I guess that's what she did -- she was a whore! I don't think I had cum twice in an hour in years, but I did that night. But it took its toll -- I collapsed on the bed, exhausted. Tiffany got up and went into the bathroom. After a few minutes, she returned with a warm washcloth and a towel, and gently cleaned me. "Is this TLC in the job description?" I asked. "Sure, and it beats lickin' it clean." I looked at her, "You do that?" "Well, it's not my favorite thing, but some guys who like to fuck me in the ass are in it to humiliate the woman and, so, they like me to clean them up with my mouth. It's not a taste you ever get used to, but you can do it once in a while. Only the real pigs ask for it." "Have you had to do it this week?" "Hmmm... Let me think... Yeah, there was a little nerdy guy, earlier in the week, I think. He was into me giving head, spanking me, butt-fucking, and calling me disgusting names for doin' what he was tellin' and payin' me to do. He wasn't the easiest buck I ever made. Oh, yeah, when I was leavin', he asked me if I had a little girl's school uniform for the next time. What a creep. I think two, maybe three, others tried it. It's hard to keep track." What was strange was that I wasn't tired, anymore. We laid in bed and talked. We called room service and ordered ice cream sundaes. We kissed and cuddled and touched each other's bodies. "Tiffany, how do you get the stamina to work the schedule you do? This week, you must have had at least three clients a night -- not counting the bartender and the security guy." "And the night manager -- what a weasel! "You're right, Mike. Four or five clients a night is about average. Guys who want head are usually pretty quick tricks. Most of the guys who pay for an hour or more want more than sex." I was surprised to hear that. "What is there more than sex?" She laughed. "I think, most of all, they want another person's intimate company. Somebody to touch and will touch them and someone to talk to. I spend a lot more time talking than I do fuckin'. Of course, everybody wants the sex, too. That's what they're paying for. Some want what they like, but a lot of men want what their wives don't (or won't) give them -- oral and anal, mostly. I have a lot of men tell me their wives of ten or twenty or thirty years will only do it in the missionary position in the dark. That's sad. Wouldn't these wives rather indulge their husbands than have them blowing good money, and good sex, on a hooker?" "You would think," I said, remembering I had just enjoyed anal sex for the first time in my life. "I know what I wanted to ask you... one night this week, you met three guys at the bar. It looked like you drew straws to decide who to leave with." "Well, sort of. I made it with all three. What they were determining was in what order. That was a late night! Tell me about your sexlife, Mike. Is it good?" "I thought it was terrific until I met you. We both have a good, healthy attitude. My wife is certainly not a prude. We've experimented, played little games." "Like what?" "Well, we've tried a little light bondage. Not bad if you're in the mood, but definitely not a steady diet. We've done some role-playing -- cop and speeder, teacher/student, boss/secretary. Some were fun. What I really like is that Laura can really flirt, and at parties, that really turns me on. I watch her and we fuck like minks when we get home." "Any rape fantasy?" "Sure." "How 'bout a hooker fantasy?" "Oh, yeah, we do do that. Mostly at home, but we have done it at bars. It turns both of us on." "Since you were married, she ever do anybody besides you?" "If she has, she never told me about it. Until last Wednesday, I hadn't." "Well, that sounds like a nice sexlife, Mike. What are you doing in a hotel room with a prostitute?" "I wish I knew, Tiffany." There was a knock at the door -- room service. I got out of bed and put on a robe. When I opened the door and the bellhop wheeled the cart in, Tiffany walked out of the bathroom and stood in the bedroom -- stark ass naked! The bellboy was fumbling with the cart and couldn't take his eyes off her. (Shit, I couldn't either!) I signed for the service and then ushered the boy out of the room. We started out, eating our sundaes with gusto, but we were soon on the bed, laughing and eating the mess from each other's body. I licked ice cream and syrup from Tiffany's nipples. I sucked the maraschino cherries out of her cunt. She licked the syrup off my dick. We showered and fucked again. Drowsy, we cuddled in bed. I wasn't sure I could get another erection, I was so wasted. I must have drifted off, because I woke up to the wonderful feeling of someone sucking and licking my dick. I was wrong -- I could get another erection! * * * * * FRIDAY, JUNE 28, 1996 Friday morning. Of course, I overslept in the morning. I told Tiffany she could stay as long as she liked, even order room service if she wanted. I rushed through a shave and shower and as I was getting dressed, Tiffany made a big production of getting out of bed, finally bending over the side and wiggling her butt at me. She looked over her shoulder and asked, coyly, "You're already late. Want a goodbye fuck, Mike?" Of course I did! * * * * * Class was over at noon. The only thing left was the diploma and award ceremony on Saturday, when the bigwigs came into town to see the operation. I would fly home on Sunday morning. Normally, I couldn't wait to get home, but this trip was different. I had risked the happiness of my marriage enjoying the stellar pleasures of a whore. I didn't want the week to end, yet. I couldn't really believe the last ten days and nights. I knew I'd have to return to my real life. But, at the same time, I didn't want Tiffany to disappear out of my life! What was I going to do? I didn't know. * * * * * Friday evening. After a long nap, I had dinner in the cafe and made my way into the lounge. Brian nodded 'hi,' as I ordered a drink. Tiffany wasn't in sight. There were two bartenders and it was after seven, so my guess was that she was already in the midst of a busy night. As I scanned the room, it was obvious that the engineers were out having their last blast of the week. No wonder Tiffany was so busy, there didn't seem to be too many female engineers (I hoped, as the father of two girls who are very good in math, that that would change by the time they were getting out of college.). There were some couples and in a corner, a group of young guys, obviously starting (or continuing) a bachelor party in the lounge. They looked in their mid- to late-twenties, and several were already loaded. The groom-to-be was wearing a red t-shirt with "Yes, Dear" stenciled on the front. Tiffany appeared at my elbow. She looked gorgeous. She was wearing a very classy black cocktail dress with dark stockings and black high heels. "So, how's it hangin', Mike?" "Doesn't hang too well when you're in the same room, Tiffany. How are you doing?" "Great," She nodded thanks to Brain as he brought her a club soda. "Good crowd in here, tonight -- a lot of horny-lookin' engineers." A man approached her from the other side and she turned to talk to him. They soon left and I went back to watching the room. People came and went. Couples danced, groups laughed. Everyone seemed in a good mood, no one sitting morosely nursing their drinks. It was Friday night! The bachelor party had gotten loud, but they soon settled up and made their way out of the lounge. Brian refilled my beer and I commented, "I hope those boys are using a limo. They all looked a little plastered." Brian nodded. "They have suites, upstairs. I would have stopped serving a few of them if they didn't. They've been partying all over town since noon. There's going to be a few hurtin' heads, tomorrow." "The wedding here?" "Yeah, the reception, anyway. I'm working one of the bars. All top-notch booze." He walked away to service the other customers. A little while later, I saw the concierge come in and talk to Brian. Brian shook his head, 'no,' but the concierge wasn't taking that for an answer. Finally, Brian nodded and looked at his watch. He nodded again and the concierge walked back to the lobby. When Tiffany walked into the lounge and came over to the bar, Brian motioned her to follow him to the back end of the bar. Brian talked and then Tiffany shook her head, 'no.' They talked some more. Brian picked up the house phone and the concierge soon joined them, and Brian went back to work. After another discussion, the concierge used the phone, again. He spoke to the person on the other end and then handed the phone to Tiffany. They talked. Tiffany hung up and nodded to the concierge. The concierge headed back to the lobby and Tiffany looked around the bar -- stopping when she saw me. She walked around the bar and stopped at my shoulder. "Hi, Mike, I need a favor." "Sure. If I can, you got it." "I've just been invited to be the entertainment at a bachelor party, upstairs." "Yeah, I saw them down here, just a little while ago. Most of them were pretty shit-faced." "Yeah, that's what I picked up from Brian and the concierge. That's why I need you, Mike. I don't want to walk into a room full of drunk good ol' buddies and frat brothers all by myself. I just need you to go with me, to let them know I'm not alone. It'll help keep things in control. But, I have to warn you, you'll probably see me get pretty raunchy. You can say no, if that's not your bag." I wasn't all that sure I wanted to see Tiffany as the "entertainment" at a bachelor party with a gang of plastered assholes, but I wasn't sure I didn't want to see her as the raunchy "entertainment" at a bachelor party, either. "No problem, Tiffany. I'll do it." "Great! Thanks, Mike. Listen, I'm gonna run back to my place and change. Give me about a half hour and then I'll meet you in the lobby. Oh, yeah, these guys are payin' through the nose, so I can pay you cash or..." She smiled and winked at me, "give you a freebie for helping me out -- your choice." I know I was blushing when I answered. "That's no choice, Tiffany. But you don't owe me anything." "Okay. We'll work something out -- or in! I gotta run. See you in about a half-hour." * * * * * Concluded in Part 3 of 3 ------------------------------------------------------------ Kristen's collection - Directory 8