Kimberly Has A Ball

Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

Caption

MsKimberly — Tuesday 8:37 AMI was told you are the one to talk to. Possible thing. How do we meet?I love these out of the blue ‘somebody said’ messages. Most of the time it’s just some little monkey wanting to jack. Like there’s not enough web porn? Or it’s a cop hoping for a freebie. All part of the playground I work in, but I always answer, ’cause you never know.Certainly willing to talk. My office 1:30 tomorrow.3:30? Address?Fine. Ask your friend.And so we’ll see.After quite a nice school girl roleplay with sweet Margie, I was back at my desk in plenty of time, listening to some John Lee Hooker. A few minutes shy of the half, she taps once and opens the door. She is young, as I expected, very well dressed, and expensively coiffed with all the matching bits. Really quite tasty.”Come in. Have a seat.””Thank you, Ms…?””Just Anne. And you are Ms Kimberly, yes?”Yes. Nice to meet you, Anne, and thank you for your time. I assume you will want to see this,” she says, handing me her driver’s license.I give it a good look. Kimberly Lynn Peters, age twenty-one, upmarket address, blah, blah, blah. I look her in the eye, then give it a right-hand flick. Astoundingly, it hits the wall square and drops into the trash can with a perfect kerplunk.”What the hell?””Spent some bills on that, didn’t you? Anjelo Tapa. Oh, so good, but oh, so vain. He always sneaks in a tiny little @ as a signature. Have to know what to look for or you’ll never see it. Now let’s see the real one or we’re done here.””I’m sorry. I didn’t think you’d talk to me otherwise.” She digs in her purse and passes me another. Kimberly Lynn Peters, age seventeen, but all else the same.”Okay, that’s a good girl. Nothing says we can’t talk. Might draw the line past that, but we aren’t there yet. And just so you know, this is all being taped. Nothing personal, but a working girl can’t be too careful.””I understand and respect that. So here’s the deal…”oOoOoOoIt’s the next day and I’m sitting at Lydia’s, sipping a latte, waiting to meet Karen, Kimberly’s mother.”Wait! You’re going to be her date? To her first Guild Ball?””That’s the idea. Now understand me. That’s all I will be, a simple date. Dinner, a little dancing, but no touchy-feely, no nothing else.””Why the hell is she hiring a… female escort? I mean, I know she likes girls, but why you? You’re what, ten years older?””Not quite, but point taken. Apparently there is something between Kimberly and a girl named Kelly, who has been bragging about her hunk of burning grad school Kolej Escort boyfriend and is none too polite about the whole queer thing.””Oh, I know her. Nasty piece of rich-bitch! Sorry, but she’s a clone of her effing mother and they both need to go live wet and naked under a bridge somewhere!”I grin wide at her outburst, liking Karen more and more.”Kimberly said you know she is out. Obviously, she could have her pick of any willing female her age, but I believe she wants to make a statement and I fit the bill. So the question is, do we let her give Kelly the rigid? I told her it has to be with your absolute yes or it’s an absolute no.”She covers her face with her hands and takes a deep breath, holding it for long seconds before she exhales and looks me in the eye.”You raise them to be proud and independent, without thinking about having to live up to it yourself. Yes, okay. But understand, I will be there as a member hostess this year, so I will be watching both of you. Closely.””Trust me, Karen. It will all be good and you won’t regret it.”oOoOoOoBeing the romantic that I let no one see, I cash in a past favor with Miss Kathryn– her ’62 Sedanca DeVille Rolls limo and her driver Carlotta for the night. We purr up to Kimberly’s house and I go to collect my date.”Shit!” Karen exclaims, opening the door and seeing me in the soft porch light.I have decided tonight deserves my best bespoke. It’s patterned on some old pictures I have of a high-life 1920s Berlin butch fem. A jet-black wool and silk blend, it has high waisted bell-leg cuffed pants and a sharply cut mid-thigh jacket with wide satin lapels. I paired it with a pearl white bow-tie blouse just transparent enough to leave little doubt about which side my gold nipple ring is on. I did my face in the same vintage look– penciled Dietrich brows, sultry warm gray shadow with gold edging, and blood-red lips, my hair razor parted and slicked back. “Am I supposed to be this jealous of my daughter?” she asks as I step in.”What are you jealous of now, mo… Shit!” Kimberly exclaims, coming into the hall.”Okay, let’s make it a trio, ’cause damn girl!” I exclaim, waving a finger head to toe. She has on a rust-red, Asian inspired, raw silk gown that makes her tanned skin and honey blond hair explode. Deceptively simple, tightly cut, it accentuates her tall, thin, athletic figure. She’s kept her shoulder-length hair simple, framing an exquisitely made-up face. Ms Kelly doesn’t stand Rus Escort a fucking chance.”You two are certainly going to be the talk of the Guild when you walk in,” Karen says, taking some snaps of us. “Might give old man Carson that heart attack his wife’s been hoping for!””You won’t be there, Karen?””Later, just for the dance. The Baxters are picking me up. Now, off you go.””Right, then. Kimberly, our carriage awaits,” I murmur, offering my arm. Karen gives her daughter a kiss and follows us out.”Okay, bitch! Like your drag wasn’t enough?” she exclaims, seeing Carlotta in her full gold buttoned rig waiting at the open passenger door.”In for all or in for nothing, darling, that’s my motto. See you later, Karen,” blowing her a kiss.Tucked snug in the back, I key the intercom. “To the ball, if you please, driver. We have heads to turn.””As you wish, m’lady!” Carlotta giggles back and the evening begins.There are half a dozen limos of varying pomposity queued up along the wide curving drive leading to the antebellum monstrosity of Guild Hall. With her normal disdain for protocol, Carlotta tools past them on the outside and adroitly cuts into the front of the line. As we idle, several drivers step out from their small lounge tent to snap pics of the car. With a wave from the scowling maitre de motor, we slowly ease up to the entrance staircase and watch as the assembled guests viewing the arrivals on the veranda stop dissing and stare.It is tradition at Guild galas for guests to be escorted in by junior members who stand grouped either side of the stairs, boys to the left, girls to the right. As Carlotta opens our door and Kimberly and I step out, a small confusion stirs among the young men about what they should do. With no hesitation on her part, a cute red-haired young lady eagerly capers toward us. Finally, one tall, awkward-looking fellow steps forward. He hasn’t taken three when Carlotta freezes him with a flicking ‘go back’ finger, then offers Kimberly her arm as I offer mine to sweet red. The two girls lean forward to stare at each other and shake with giggles as we move forward at last.As is also tradition, we stop halfway up, so a picture can be taken. Unless someone has popped their top or fallen over drunk, it’s usually just a couple of clicks. I count at least a dozen before the woman shooting pauses with a smile, wanting us to stand even closer together. After another dozen, we are allowed to resume our entrance. As Yenimahalle Escort Kimberly greets various club dignitaries, I give Carlotta a quick kiss on the cheek.”I’ll tap you when I’m ready to go. You be okay till then?””Oh yeah. Just saw a driver I know, Coral Mae. Haven’t seen her in ages.””Good memories, I hope?””Oh hell yes. The very best kind. Might take me a moment or two to get back on your text, you understand.””No worries, darling, just don’t frighten the straights too much.””Same to you, baby,” she chuckles, starting back to the car.oOoOoOoThe food at dinner isn’t nearly as bad as I feared. After the usual canapes and bulk rate champagne, we are escorted to our tables. There are three couples per and our mix is a smidge better than average. Miss Courtland, an elegant sixty-ish matron is being squired by her great-nephew, a handsome fellow who flirts shamelessly with the young man serving us. I figured it must run in the family, as Miss treats both Kimberly and I to a very rapt and very queer-friendly eye, ignoring the others. The third couple are the Drakes, Bob and Bonnie. They’re standard issue outside sales and PTA maven, bland and harmless, though I can’t help but notice how quickly she looks my way when I lean in, jacket gaping, allowing her a better view of my nipples.In the pauses, I scan the room carefully. In my line of work, one has to take care at affairs like this that might include past customers who would not take kindly being acknowledged. I see a couple of ladies I’d rather steer clear of, but no real problems. Far across the room, I spot a fellow pro, Jimmy, who is with a very expensive looking woman easily twice his age. Meeting mine, he arches an amused eye and blows me a kiss. Good for you, Jimmy. I’m sure the lady will be most pleased with that impressive black cock you wear with deserved pride.Dinner over and several very boring and blessedly short speeches given, we are at last invited to dance the night away in the ballroom. I take Kimberly’s hand and we slowly make our way to the big double doors. As before, while mingling during hors d’oeuvre, we draw a lot of attention. I see some scowls, some smiles, and a few outright wanton looks, both male and female. There might be some interesting conversations when folks get home.”So where is your Miss Kelly?””Don’t know. Kinda weird.”The dance floor is still dark as everyone files in, then a single spot pops on and the orchestra kicks off. In the center of the floor are Kelly and her beau. She is attractive in a spend lots and lots of money way but doesn’t have Kimberly’s natural framework to carry it off. He’s certainly handsome enough but betrayed by a jacket poorly cut for his body. They look a bit like second-tier contestants on Dancing With The Stars. Little ooohs and a clap or two ring out as they begin dancing.

Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32