Cassandra still had no idea what city she was in, which she found more than a little frustrating. She called down to room service and asked that a paper be sent up.
She wandered around the lavish room, still horny, pussy still craving satisfaction. God, with all the sex she thought about, was she some kind of high-priced call girl? Was she the kept woman, the mistress of a powerful man - or woman, for that matter? Not knowing the answers to any of these questions was driving her absolutely insane!
The paper arrived under the door - Was Brian too exhausted?, she giggled inwardly - and she saw that it was the TORONTO STAR. Ah, she was in Toronto Canada. She was vaguely familiar with this city, she knew. This was a place that she had been before and she found that thought comforting.
She got dressed in a short mini, heels and sexy white lace blouse and decided to go out and see the city for herself, but then she stopped. What would she do for money, she pondered? Did she have credit cards that would tell her who she was, or any kind of ID? Why hadn't she thought of this before?
She looked in the purse laying on the table nearby, ruffled through it but found no cards or ID - but money, lots of it. Someone was certainly keeping her well. Again, she thought she might be someones mistress or a call-girl. Well, I certainly do enjoy fucking, she thought to herself.
She arrived at the front desk and after a few inquiries, found she was in one of the more prominent downtown Toronto hotels, the Royal York. She asked for directions to a store that sold lingerie and was sent to a store a scant few blocks away.
Stiletto heels clicking on the pavement, she walked the few blocks, enjoying the warm sun and the breeze through her long locks. The city seemed vibrant and alive and she got some admiring looks from both men and women as she walked along, which made her feel better.
