Weekend Ch 02

Weekend, Part 2 - Thursday

I woke up late the next morning, and slowly. I was feeling so relaxed. I had put myself to sleep by letting the erotic scenes play through my head while my fingers played somewhere else.

Other memories were not so pleasant. Fear of my sister intruded on my relaxation. Shame and embarrassment were also represented. Michelle would never forgive me for what I'd done. I had seen her, spied on her in an extremely private moment. I knew secrets about her now, dark, devastating secrets. My sister was going to be very angry with me. Michelle, who was cold and rude and nasty at her friendliest was going to be furious.

I got up reluctantly. Michelle had not waked me up. I put on the clothes from last night and as bravely as I could, I came out into the next room.

Michelle was in the kitchen. I could feel her eyes on me, but I couldn't look her in the face yet. I had seen every secret of my sister's body. I had seen her used over and over again, but somehow, I was the one who felt violated and full of shame. I quickly grabbed up some fresh clothes and went into the bathroom to shower and change.

Under the hot water, I tried to adjust to all that had happened.

My sexuality had long been repressed by my parents and their fierce rules. I had been forced to hide my emerging sexual nature and erotic feelings. Now my sister and her roommates had forced me to confront those feelings and experience them with an intensity I'd never imagined. It wasn't fair. I was almost a virgin and they were perverting me. I'd gotten turned on watching naked girls. I wasn't supposed to like that. The few bits of filtered sexual culture that had seeped through my strict conservative background were very firm on that point.

I tried to be angry with Michelle. She was a prostitute, a hooker, a whore. I hadn't yet come to terms with that yet, but somehow it seemed to justify her activities of the night before. As a prostitute, she had a right to be as perverted as she liked. She did not have the right to drag me into depravity with her. The justification didn't work, however. I couldn't legitimately blame Michelle. I was the one who had been snooping around. I had put myself in that position. Michelle had not wanted me there in the first place. I also had to accept that my sexual feelings were entirely my own. None of what had happened had revolted or disgusted me. Nobody had forced me to watch the things happening outside that closet. I could have stayed in the dark if I'd chosen. Instead, I'd glued my eye to that narrow crack and stared. I'd been fascinated and mesmerized. I'd been totally turned on. If I was a pervert, they didn't make me that way. They had only helped me to find out. I turned off the shower.

I got dressed and went back into the living room. Michelle looked up as I came out. I was able to look at her this time. The shame and guilt were gone and I'd even managed to deal with her profession. She wasn't who I thought she was, but I wasn't who I thought I was either.

I was ready to face Michelle's rage. I braced myself for my sister's powerful temper. In the past, she had reduced me to tears with just a disapproving look or gesture. Now, I felt up to facing her entire arsenal. She looked up at me, her face the expressionless mask I knew so well. A long moment passed. She licked her lips as she studied me. Briefly, I pictured where those lips had been last night and just exactly what she'd been licking at the time. That was gonna make it easier. I forced myself to relax.

Then the words came. "Your breakfast is on the counter," she said. She sounded amused.

My jaw literally dropped. Where were the threats and accusations? Where was the bitter sarcasm? I was expecting a lecture, words carefully chosen to sound mild, but just insulting enough to carry a very sharp edge. Instead, I got breakfast, with eggs and pancakes and tomato wedges, toast with butter and cinnamon, a tall glass of apple juice.

Michelle laughed at my expression and went back into her bedroom. At least the mocking humour was familiar. It sounded more like the Michelle I knew. It even sounded like the Michelle I used to know. Years ago, before she was a bitch, before she even turned wild, she used to laugh like that.

When we were kids, she was always leading us into new adventures and discoveries. She would insist I accompany her, but get impatient when I couldn't keep up or when the difference in our ages became prounounced. She taught me to ride a bike and laughed when I tipped over. She taught me to rolller blade and laughed when I fell down. But the laughter wasn't cruel back then and she was always quick to hug me when I cried. I missed my sister. I had missed her for years.

I cried as I ate the breakfast she'd fixed, but she didn't come to hug me this time. It wasn't me she was hugging anymore. Judging from the sounds behind her door, there was a lot more than hugging going on. My sister didn't need me anymore.

I needed to connect with Michelle again. I was absolutely determined to do it. First, I had to learn all I could about my sister's new life, but there was no way I could ask her directly. I didn't know her well enough anymore, but Emily did. Maybe Emily would help me. I would have to ask, but later. She was a little busy.

I finished my breakfast and washed the dishes, then plopped down on the sofa to wait. The movie I'd been watching the day before was still in the VCR. I started watching from where I left off, but it was like watching a completely different movie. Overnight, my perspective had changed so much, nothing seemed the same.

My casual, everyday cynicism and the chip on my shoulder were washed away, at least for a little while. I was ready to believe in things again. I was able to see not only the movie, but everything around me with a warmer appreciation. Then I fell asleep.

Emily woke me up. She was sitting on the sofa with me, stroking my hair.

"Wake up, honey," she said softly. "I need your help."

We had never in our lives spoken to each other, but it seemed perfectly natural that she would ask for my help. She had already done plenty for me.

"I need to go to the store," she said. "It's my turn to do the shopping. I've got a date tonight and I'm expecting him to call this afternoon to make arrangements. Would you take care of that for me?"

I nodded mutely. I wondered if this was a real date or a customer, but I didn't dare ask. The courage from my earlier determination was gone. Did they even go on real dates, I wondered. They didn't seem to need them.

She winked at me and said, "He'll call himself 'Aztec' and ask to confirm his appointment with Katrina. Write 'Katrina' on the notepad by the phone and take down his hotel and room number. Tell him I'll be there at 8 o'clock and make up a confirmation code word to give him. Write the code word down on the notepad along with the rest. Mark down the time he called and put the note in the basket on the counter. Got all that?

"Don't worry," she said, laughing at my bewildered expression. "He knows the procedure. He'll have all the information ready. If anybody else calls, tell them to call back later.

She thanked me and apologized for having to ask me to help. Michelle and Laura were out making arrangements and buying supplies for a big party the three of them were throwing on Saturday. I said I was glad to help.

I stammered through an awkward 'Thank you' to her for trying to cover for me the night before.

She smiled. "I'll bet you're just full of questions for me, aren't you? You've never seen that side of your sister, I'm sure. When I get back from the store, you can ask me whatever you want to.

After she left, I wandered around the apartment, trying to think of questions. Emily was right. I had no end of things I wanted to ask, but I wasn't sure I had the courage to actually ask them. How many guys had she slept with? Did she like it? How much did she charge?

Just after 2, the phone rang. It wasn't the apartment telephone, but one of several cell phones sitting on a small table in the kitchen. I answered it, and sure enough, it was Aztec. I was talking to a john. He was going to pay Emily to have sex with him and I was going to help.

Emily was right. He had all the information she'd asked for. He even prompted me for his confirmation word. I gave him the word "Breakfast." When I hung up, I felt a little dirty, but I liked it.

When Emily came home, I was ready. I waited until she put away the groceries. I tried to help, but I didn't know where anything went. I just got in her way and slowed her up. Emily banished me to the sofa.

When she finished, she fixed us each a glass of iced tea, read the note in the basket and came to sit with me on the sofa.

As she handed me the glass, my mind went blank. All my questions were forgotten. My mouth was suddenly dry. I gulped down some tea, and managed to stammer out "How...why?"

She laughed at my nervousness. She told me that my sister was the wildest craziest, most daring person she'd ever met. "Most of the time," Emily said sadly, "she bottles it all up inside. She locks herself into a tight, angry little shell, but little by little, she's learning to let go.

Emily told me stories of wet t-shirt contests, backstage parties and flashing strangers on the street. A local nightclub DJ frequently invited Michelle into his booth to let her choose the music. She ran a betting pool in a sports bar. She was suing a mechanic and a hairstylist and was learning to play the guitar. To pay the bills, she was a prostitute.

According to Emily, it was fun and easy and really good money. With a few precautions, it was relatively safe. New clients were very carefully screened. Names and addresses were obtained and discreetly verified before any transaction could occur. Code names and passwords were used on the telephone to prevent incrimination.

Emily said she'd been a bartender when she'd met Michelle. They'd gotten to be friends and frequently gone out drinking together. In a moment of drunken honesty, she'd confessed to Michelle that she had once taken $100 to sleep with a friend of her brother.

Michelle had taken the idea and turned it into a business.

It had been a rocky start and they'd had trouble paying the bills at first. Laura had just been a roommate at first, brought in to help with the rent. As business picked up, she'd been gradually clued in and recruited. Now they were becoming very successful and Michelle was looking to expand. They needed to quickly build a stable and loyal customer base before their competitors felt threatened and tried to drive them out of business.

It was a tough business. Advertising was difficult and security was all-important, so new clients were hard to cultivate. Competition was fierce and when your rivals got nasty, you couldn't exactly go to the better business bureau. When an industry is outside the law, so are the tactics. Saturday's party was going to establish them as a strong and vital player and enable them to continue growing.

Emily talked to me for most of the afternoon, then started getting ready for Aztec. As she was getting dressed, she let me look through her closet. I could try on anything I liked, so long as I put everything back when I was done and showered before I started.

I was in and out of the shower in five minutes, eager to accept her offer. She guided my choices and helped me design the most alluring outfits from combinations of the most flattering pieces. I looked like a hooker myself.

Emily must have thought so too, because she invited me to come with her. I didn't have to do anything I didn't want to, she assured me, but I might enjoy the experience.

"I know you like to watch," she said, winking.

I blushed from head to toe, but I said yes. I quickly agreed to go, before my cowardice asserted itself. I refused to chicken out. I refused to let myself chicken out.

That night, at eight o'clock, I was standing in a busy hotel lobby in the sexiest clothes I'd ever worn, waiting to experience something wild. Emily picked up a housephone and asked for Aztec's room number. When he answered, she quietly muttered, "Aztec" She held the phone so I could hear a voice respond with "Breakfast."

"Now we wait," said Emily to me as she hung up. She had explained the necessity of meeting the client away from the room and being escorted up. The hotel staff was already glancing at us suspiciously. It would not do to be seen wandering through the hallways by ourselves.

We didn't have long to wait. The third time the elevator opened, a well-dressed man in his forties came out and Emily rushed to hug him. Most of the suspicious glares disappeared.

Emily gestured for me to follow them and the three of us rode up in silence. Aztec was clearly puzzled by me, but explanations would come later. Emily clung to him like an old friend or a daughter, friendly and charming, but appropriately reserved.

Once inside his room, Emily was much friendlier. She kissed him with all the passion of a great lover, or at least a great actress. She was very affectionate and her hands intimately stroked his entire body, including his groin and butt. Her voice was soft and gentle. She had a sweet, but knowing smile on her face. Emily had disappeared. I was looking at "Katrina." After Katrina and Aztec had finished their re-acquaintance, she smiled at me and winked. It was time for introductions.

"This is Scarlett's sister, Crimson. You remember Scarlett, don't you?" she asked him. He nodded and smiled and his eyes got wide. He definitely remembered "Scarlett." Katrina told him that she was bending the rules a bit, but that as a preferred client, he could be trusted.

The story she told him about me was mostly true. I was visiting from out of town. I was curious about the lives and lifestyles of my sister and her friends. I was in the room to watch, not to participate. I was to be considered forbidden and untouchable. That much was true enough. But I was not, however, "an untried virgin." That time with Danny might not have amounted to very much, but it certainly counted. The part of her story that made me the most uncomfortable, however, was her assertion that I was planning on joining my sister in her business as soon as I had some more experience. I'll admit that I had flirted with the fantasy of being an expensive, high class callgirl when Emily was describing the lifestyle to me, but I was perfectly willing to leave it as a fantasy.

Katrina finished the introduction and got down to business. "I remember how much you like to be watched. Amber still talks about how excited she used to get watching you fuck me and I could feel how hard you got when she was in the room. You were a real animal in bed and I had a wonderful time. If you'd like Crimson to stay, I'll have to charge you a little more than we charged for Amber, but Crimson is so much more pure. You'll be taking a little of her innocence. "

Aztec looked me over. I could almost feel his gaze roving over my body like the point of a spotlight glaring on my breasts and belly and hips, burning me through my clothes. The heat made me blush and I looked over at Emily/Katrina, who smiled at me and winked. I blushed even harder and looked at the floor.

Aztec and Katrina discussed money for a few minutes. I couldn't hear them. The blood was pounding in my ears. I may not have been planning to have sex in this room, but I felt like a whore. My presence during a sexual activity was being paid for. I was being paid for. I should have been offended. I should have been furious. However, I had spent a long and frustrating time as a sexless and obedient child and it was refreshing and wonderful to be seen as a sexual adult being and even valued as a sex object. Rather than feeling exploited, I felt empowered.

The money was settled. Katrina put an envelope into her tiny little purse and handed it to me. Then she gently pressured Aztec onto the bed. He sat on the edge and she stood between his legs. She started to dance a little, although there was no music. She swayed and stretched sexily, and started to remove her clothes. Her shirt was very slowly unbuttoned and taken off. Dangling the shirt from one hand, she walked toward me.

I was still standing, frozen, in the middle of the room. Katrina handed me the shirt and gripped my shoulders. She guided me into a chair by the dresser. She whispered to me, telling me to relax. "Let yourself go," she breathed gently into my ear. "Do whatever you feel like doing."

I watched as Katrina removed the rest of her clothes. After removing each garment, she'd bring it to me, then return to Aztec. Her hand would stroke my chin or pet my hair as she dropped the article of clothing into my lap. A couple of times, she even kissed my cheek.

My instinct was to clutch the clothes, grip them, hide behind them in excitement and fear. I forced myself to relax and open up. As each garment was given to me, I laid it on the dresser beside me. I sat with my shoulders back and my legs uncrossed. I let myself enjoy the gaze of Aztec. Every time Katrina came to me, I felt Aztec's eyes watching me as I interacted with his paid-for sex partner.

When Katrina was nude, she stood in front of him and let him admire her body. She turned away from him to face me and slowly bent over. Her naked ass and pussy were almost in Aztec's face. She smiled at me. "Take off your clothes," she said. For one terrified moment, I thought she was talking to me, but Aztec stood up and eagerly started yanking things off. I was both relieved and disappointed. I surprised myself. I wanted to be naked. I wanted Aztec to appreciate and desire me. I even wanted Katrina to desire me.

In no time, Aztec and Katrina were both naked, facing each other. Last night's show of girlplay was almost forgotten. I was about to see the real thing. One male and one female were going to have sex together in front of me.

His cock was stiff and hard and pointing at Katrina. She moved toward him, letting his thing touch her. She gripped it with one hand and stroked it. I was mesmerized.

I had never really seen a man's cock before. When Danny and I had done our thing, it had been quick and hurried, with no time for visual appreciation. In my senior year of high school, my parents had taken to shoving me out the door an hour and half before the schoolbus arrived. They went to work early and didn't trust me alone in the house. Danny was a neighbor who was sweet enough to wait with me. We used to tease each other about sex almost constantly. Without specifically saying so, I was daring him to make a move, too petrified to make one of my own. I'm sure he felt the same way. One morning, the teasing had gotten serious. We went behind the hedges of my house and I lost my virginity. It was very quick and very awkward. I yanked off my panties and he popped open his jeans. He poked and prodded me, trying to find the right place to put it and suddenly, he was in. It hurt for just a moment, and then he slipped out again. I got jabbed several more times as he tried to put it back inside me. He never made it. Danny started groaning and something wet hit my leg. Then it was over. We went to school. I never saw his cock.

Katrina was holding Aztec's cock like she would never let go. She had him sit on the bed, never releasing him for a moment. She pulled and stroked it and twisted her hand around it. She knelt between his legs and got a good grip. With her other hand, she put something in her mouth, but I didn't catch what it was. She put her head down into his lap and put his penis into her mouth. I felt myself shudder. She slowly sucked his cock so far into her mouth, it must have almost been going down her throat. When she pulled her lips off him, he was wearing a condom. That was so cool. I wanted to see if I could do that.