The (Fat and) Happy Hooker Ch. 04

Chapter Four

I woke with a start and looked at the clock on my bedstand. 8:30 a.m. Wow, I didn't normally sleep that late. I carefully pulled the probes from my pussy and ass and unclamped my nipples. Then I rolled out of bed and headed for the bathroom.

I stopped at the mirror and looked. I read somewhere, in a Matt Helm novel I seem to remember, "if you can do it you can damn well look at it." I was a mess. My eyes were red and swollen. The bottom of my face was covered with dried snot. My hair looked like it hadn't seen a comb in a month.

I giggled softly and said, aloud to myself, "they really got to you. Now get yourself together."

I sat on the toilet, quickly, peed and pooped, and then to the shower.

I ran the shower hot and let the water sluice over me, soothing and waking me.

I took my time, making sure I looked good, and then headed back to the hotel for my shopping date with Marta.

I was surprised when I pulled up in front of the hotel and saw her standing on the sidewalk, all fully dressed and looking like the perfect Jewish matron.

"All locked up again I see," I said, pulling up in front of her and reaching across to push the passenger side door open.

She giggled a little as she got in and said, "I guess I am at that. Habits are hard to break." Then she surprised me a little by leaning across the floor shift and kissing me.

I couldn't help my own giggle and said, "and good morning to you too."

"Ummmmmmm," she said, looking up, "can we put the top down."

My car is a little PT Cruiser convertible in bright blue. I laughed and said, "sure," and reached up, worked the appropriate levers, and pushed the button.

"I've never had a convertible," she said, grinning like a child.

"Well," I said, shifting into low and pulling away from the curb, "I like it." I turned on the radio to my favorite oldies station and was surprised when she started singing along with Dion and the Belmonts whining about Runaround Sue. She had a strong contralto voice. She looked good, smiling, her hair windblown. She looked young and vibrant.

"Where are you taking me?" she asked when the song ended.

"Someplace you really NEED to go, honey," I replied.

We rode in silence then, well, with the radio going. I liked that she knew most of the oldies. It wasn't a terribly long drive across to Aurora from downtown, and Naughty 'n' Nice, the store I was taking her to, was barely in Aurora. The store is in a little strip mall off of East Colfax, a place I was introduced to by Tricia, my mentor in the profession.

We walked in and Marta stopped and just stared for a few moments.

It is pretty impressive. The area you enter when you step into the front door is devoted to sexy undies displayed on mannequins ranging from skinny, I would say anorexic, to plus size although none as big as I am. The full range is on display from buttfloss thongs to full body girdles, from padded bras to skimpy things you can read a newspaper through. Corsets and their close cousin, six-inch-wide belts are there along with long line strapless bras. It's an impressive display.

I took her hand and led her to one of the dressing rooms.

"I'm a bit hungover honey," I said, "so you get yourself uncaged."

"And how is my favorite working girl," the voice startled me, I guess I was more off of my game than I knew.

"And how is my favorite store clerk," I asked, turning to face Clair, the owner of the place who hated it when I called her a clerk.

She giggled and said, "better than some, worse than others."

I embraced her quickly and said, "I brought you some new blood and your work is cut out for you."

She giggled and said, "another professional?"

"No," I said, "just an amateur interested in learning."

"And you're teaching her?" she asked.

I nodded.

"Well, learn from the best I always say," she said.

About that time Marta stepped out. She still had on the bra and girdle.

"Jesus CHRIST!" I said, "get the fuck out of that shit before Clair kicks your ass."

Clair and I laughed as she disappeared back into the changing room.

"I see what you mean," she said.

A few minutes later Marta stepped out, this time naked.

Clair crooked a finger, beckoning her. She looked at me and I smiled. "It's okay Marta," I said, "this is Clair and she'll be taking care of you today. In this place I just watch."

She was blushing but came and stood in front of Clair. We were in the open store area now and she kept looking around nervously.

Clair stepped close to her, reached up, and pushed her hair back. Then she ran her hands over Marta's arms, lifted her breasts, pinched her nipples lightly when they tightened, tested her arms and waist and hips with her hands and then turned her with light pressure on her shoulders.

She repeated the process on Marta's back. She traced the curve of her back and hips with her hands, caressed the roundness of her ass, patted her heavy thighs (no thigh gap for Marta), and turned her again.

"Okay," she said, smiling, "I can work with this. Is there a budget?"

I laughed and said, "give the lady your credit card Marta. I'm sure Jacob won't bitch."

She was getting used to being naked more or less in public and went into the little changing room, coming out with a credit card.

"What look are you going for?" Clair asked Marta.

She just looked confused and looked over at me.

"I'm thinking," I said, making a production of putting my thumb and forefinger under my chin, assuming a properly thoughtful pose. After a pause, I said, "slightly slutty housewife for starters. We don't want to give her husband or her son a heart attack."

Marta's eyes got big and she said, "my son?"

I laughed and said, "Oh honey, I ain't letting that outfit you came in here in out of this building. It's going in the trash."

She sort of moaned softly but didn't get dressed and leave.

"Okay honey," Clair said, "come with me."

She took her hand and led her over to the underwear section. I followed, interested to see that Marta actually had a pretty good ass with the proper amount of sway in it as she walked barefoot.

The doorbell jingled and Marta jerked, startled.

Clair said, "Be right back," and headed toward the door while I put my hand on Marta's arm and said, softly, "stay put."

I could see her come to a decision. She took a deep breath, straightened her back, walked over, naked, and began flipping through the things hung on a rack. I took it as a good sign and went over and patted her ass and said "good girl."

When I reached around, laying my hands low on her belly, my fingertips just brushing the thick curly bush of her pubic hair. She hummed very low in her throat and tipped her head back, leaning against me and offering her neck which I kissed.

"Get a room," Clair said coming toward us.

I laughed and stepped back saying, "she's all yours."

For the next two hours, I watched as Clair offered different things to Marta and then Marta would model them. The underwear ranged from a classic WonderBra, still reasonably modest while lifting and offering cleavage on display, to a pair of collars, heavy leather, that were tightened on her breasts, forcing the glands forward and distending her nipples, with a strap that went around her neck to lift them. Panties ranged from simple high leg french cut so sheer you could read a newspaper through them to string thongs (what I think of as buttfloss) with a triangle so small it barely covered her labia.

Clothes followed a similar pattern. From flirty skirts above the knee to a mid-calf number that was simply a wrap and showed a full leg when she walked. From blouses covering her front modestly while being completely backless to those that were low cut putting all of the cleavage from the WonderBra on display.

Nylons and garter belts, outfits, shoes, and accessories all went into the half dozen big bags she bought.

From Naughty and Nice, we went to "For His Eyes Only," a spa that specialized in making women look their best.

The place was staffed with tiny Vietnamese women who knew their work. Mai Lin was my preferred torturer and she was free today. I introduced her to Marta and she led us back to the dressing room.

"Strip," she said in that wonderfully imperious way some tiny women can pull off.

When Marta stood naked I said, "Not the full Kojak, but do SOMETHING about this," and I reached down and grabbed a handful of her pubic bush." "And not a hair other than what you leave here below her neck. I think a tidy little triangle would be nice."

"Gotcha," she said.

Marta had a bit of that deer-in-the-headlights look when Mai Lin led her away.

"And you?" Li asked, and I started again. I'm not USED to being snuck up on.

I smiled and said, "my usual, but wait a second."

I dashed to the curtain into which Mai Lin and Marta had disappeared. Marta was already on the table. "And bleach her asshole," I said.

Then I turned and turned myself over to Li.

I love my spa days. First, there was the hot tub for about ten minutes, the cold pool for a quick dip, my hair washed and my face scrubbed by strong Vietnamese hands. I got a massage that left me sore, weak, and completely relaxed.

While I was naked and on the table she went over my body as she always does. I am completely hairless below the neck, permanently so. At least it had better be permanent. I paid a lot of money to make it that way. She went over my body with that special formula of collagen oils and God knows what else is in that old family formula. Anyway, it kept my skin soft and blemish-free so I don't worry what exactly might be in it.

I felt the tingle of bleach at my asshole and then a different tingle, another special formula, that kept my labia plump.

She had me roll over and carefully exfoliated my clitoris and those tender inner lips. With a final hard slap on my belly, she giggled and said, "you done."

I put on one of the fluffy terry robes they provide and then it was into the hair salon. As Race, my favorite stylist so gay you expected him to burst into flame at any second, started inspecting my hair for any sign of grey and then lightly trimming, Marta came in looking a little flushed. She was in a robe like mine.

DJ, the other flaming hairstylist motioned her to a chair.

"DJ," I said, "not too much but give her the horny housewife treatment."

He giggled and gave me a thumbs up.

Race worked his magic and then it was over to the makeup table where another Li did my nails and my face. Marta was about 15 minutes behind me and I watched as she got the treatment.

All fluffed and buffed I went into the locker room and threw on my clothes. Then I went out into the lobby. I wanted to see Marta make her entrance.

She did well.

She parted the curtain and stepped through, smiled, and struck a classic pinup pose, her right leg straight, left leg bent slightly, left arm straight up, back arched, and looking over her shoulder at me smiling.

I whistled.

"You look good enough to eat," I said grinning.

And she did. It wasn't anything particularly dramatic, but she was completely changed. Her hair was swept back, no longer hiding but now framing her face. It was a shade darker, very dark brown verging on black. Her face was made up beautifully. A pale blue eye shadow set off her brown eyes, and the eyeliner with an almost unnoticeable point at the corners of her eyes gave her a slightly exotic look. Her lips were red, unlike the very pale lipstick she normally wore.

She giggled and actually blushed. Then she did a slow turn. Her new outfit looked good too. The bright blue scoop neck top set of her coloring nicely. The skirt she had on was modestly short, a bit above the knee, but a fringe hem made it look longer. The seams on her sheer black nylons were straightedge straight and the moderately high-heeled black and white pumps did good things for her legs. A decent bit of cleavage showed the WonderBra was doing its work.

I smiled and said, "my work is done. I'm taking you home now."

She giggled and said, "gonna ravish me?"

I flashed my best she-wolf grins and said, "maybe, if you're a good girl."

She made a little humming noise and took my hand as we walked to the car.

It was interesting taking her home. My dates with Jacob over time had always been at a hotel, so this was new to me. We went across Denver and then south to Englewood. The house was a big rancher on a large lot with a manicured lawn. It looked perfectly middle class and prosperous.

She was kind of leaning on me. Her hand on my arm, holding it lightly, made it clear what she had in mind as we walked up the sidewalk to their house.

She gave a startled little yelp when the door opened just as she was going to put the key in the lock.

Just looking at the boy, well, the young man, who opened the door left no doubt that he was Jacob and Marta's son.

"Benjamin," she said sort of breathlessly, "why aren't you in school?"

His eyes were big as he stared at her cleavage.

"Benjamin?" she repeated.

It was almost comical the way he jerked his eyes up to meet hers.

"Something with the plumbing or something," he said, "at school, y'know."

"They sent you home alone?" Marta said, her voice rising.

"No," he said, "Greg's mom picked us up and I came on home after that." He grinned disarmingly. "You know," he said, "I have my xBox and I'm easily entertained."

While they were speaking Marta's hand had gone, almost instinctively, to her cleavage and in doing so had actually drawn his eye to it again.

I stepped between them, bent over, offering him the distraction of my own very ample cleavage, and stuck out my hand.

"Benjamin," I said, stifling the laugh that threatened to burst out, "I'm Sammee, pleased to meet you."

His eyes found my cleavage, as I had hoped they would, and he sort of stood, the deer-in-headlights look almost comical.

I used two fingers to lift his face until his eyes met mine and said, again, "pleased to meet you."

He literally shook his head quickly and took my hand. I was pleased that it was a firm handshake. "And pleased to meet you too," he said, remembering his good breeding.

"Tell you what," I said, rescuing Marta, "I was promised a tour of your house, and your mom has some stuff to unpack, so would you be my tour guide?" I flashed my best smile at him, the one that said, "I'm just an innocent girl, be nice to me."

"Ummmmmmm, sure," he said, "come on."

I flashed a quick OK with my thumb and forefinger circled to Marta and she breathed out a quick sign and mouthed "thank you."

He led me through the big house and I won't deny that I was impressed. First, there was the great room, one of those combination living room /dining rooms favored by modern architects with only a bar height counter separating it from the kitchen. A hallway led to a bathroom with a shower big enough to include a swimming pool and then two bedrooms all made up and neat, presumably guest rooms.

Back down the hallway, he led me down another, mirroring the first, with another bathroom and two bedrooms. Then back across the house to yet a third hallway with a bathroom and what was obviously his bedroom with a big screen TV, car and sports posters, clothes scattered around, and a big bed, unmade.

I thought we were done but he led me back through the house down yet another hallway that ended in a set of French doors opening onto a back deck and a swimming pool.

It was, altogether, a beautiful, very upscale, house.

When we got back to the great room Marta was waiting and had very obviously changed clothes. Now she was covered, head to toe, in cloth. A long-sleeved turtleneck, floor-length slacks, face scrubbed clean, and sneakers on her feet.

I turned and formally shook hands with Benjamin, bending over to flash cleavage again.

"Beautiful home," I said, turning to Marta, "now I need to run. Walk me to the car?"

She smiled and said, "sure."

When we got to my car I turned and chuckled.

"Honey," I said, "you're overcompensating like a crazy woman. He saw what he saw, but now you're making it a big thing. Now stop it!"

I grinned, quickly kissed her cheek, got into my car and left.