The drive to Austin was even more annoying than Kimberly expected.
The aggravation started on the weekend with the news that the announcement had been moved up to Monday morning forcing Kimberly to begin her drive early Monday morning. But she would still miss Tuesday in Houston.
Her frustration only increased when she arrived in Austin to find that a ‘legal issue’ had delayed the announcement until late afternoon. Only essential personnel allowed in the building. She decided to go shopping instead.
After some discussion with the HQ receptionist, she found a store called Blackmail which styled itself as a ‘monochromatic boutique’. The clothes were black but not necessarily goth. This suited Kimberly as having fled one set of conventions she was in no hurry to adopt another just because they were different.
A few doors down she found a shoe shop, which demanded a visit and a few doors down rested her newly shod feet at a Starbucks. The barista spotted the logo on Kimberly’s shopping bags and they got into a girly discussion about clothes shops.
“It may not be your style but you should visit Mortified,” the barista advised.
“Price-ey”, the cashier interjected, “but so nice.”
“Not any more”, her partner replied, “closing down sale.”
Kimberly was not about to adopt a new lifestyle as a result of peer pressure, but a fire sale was another matter. If the clothes were not too outrageous she might even wear some to work.
The store was somewhat difficult to find. It was no wonder it had difficulty finding business. The concept was good but the timing was unfortunate. A few years later and there would be no shortage of customers for haute goth in Austin. But in the early 1990s the goth clientele was still mostly younger people with smaller pocketbooks. Kimberly half wondered if she should tell Beverly about a potential new source of bankrupt stock to buy up.
Kimberly was the only customer and the shop manager was only too glad to help her plan her new look. Skirts and blouses piled up on the counter. There was silk and Jacquard lace and velvets. Most of the clothes were black with a scattering of white and a few deep reds, blues and purples. They had an almost exact replica of the hobble skirt dress Carolyn Jones wore in the Adams Family but even with 50% off, the price was beyond what Kimberly was willing to pay for clothes. Next to the pile of clothes grew a slightly smaller pile of accessories; gloves, chokers, fishnet stockings and all manner of fun and exciting frivolities.
Her next task was much more difficult: Culling the pile to arrive at a selection she could afford. With great reluctance she reduced them to a level that she hoped to be compatible with her remaining card limit.
As she walked back to the car with her packages, Kimberly spotted a spa. A neon green poster in the window offered WAXING in 12 inch high letters. A price list beneath detailed the full list of services in somewhat smaller type; eyebrows, legs, bikini. The prices were reasonable, the full bikini package was less than what she had paid for just her legs last year. That had been unpleasant enough.
Brackets following the Bikini price offering a ‘Brazillian’ [sic] for an additional $20 caught Kimberly’s eye. Kimberly tutted at the spelling and walked on. She was late enough for the big announcement as it was.
Kimberly drove back to HQ at breakneck speed only to find that there had been yet another delay. HQ itself was still in lock down. The rest of the center managers had been at the sports bar all afternoon. She could wait for a call at the sports bar or the hotel. She chose the hotel, it would be slightly less aggravating.
Back in her room Kimberly wondered if she should call Megan. But they had been told not to call their employees either. Which was ridiculous since it was by far the best way to convince Megan something was up.
She thought about going to the hotel pool. She even had a new bathing suit, a last minute impulse purchase as she was leaving Mortified.
It was her first bikini since getting married. Though to call it a bikini was something of an exaggeration. It was really not much more than a few scraps of fabric attached to a thin piece of string.
The bottom half was not much more than a thong that practically disappeared in the midst of her ragged pubic hair: Perhaps she should have gone for that Bikini wax after all. She had forgotten to bring a razor and did not feel like paying five dollars to buy a disposable worth less than a nickel from the hotel shop.
She had brought her old costume but the mere thought of it made her feel like a frump. Screw the pool, time to call some girl friends instead.
She tried Alice first but got no reply. Heather didn’t answer either but Helen did. Kimberly eagerly recounted the details of her shopping trip.
“Aw. I liked their stuff.”
“Well get it quick girl, its all half price.”
“Can’t: The car is in the shop. It threw a tweedle-rod or something.”
Helen described her latest car woes with intentional imprecision for some time.
“Stop, stop, I may be going back.”
“Danger! Danger! Plastic reaching critical temperature! Melt down imminent. Stop her before she shops again.”
“The spa across the street actually, they have a bikini wax special.”
“Oh can I be the first to run my tongue across the edge of your labia after all of your pussy hair has been ripped out with molten wax?”
“Gee thanks Helen, you make it sound so appealing.”
“All of it?”
“All of it.”
“Just do it and you will know.”
“Is it painful?”
“Of course. It hurts like hell,” Helen said cheerfully.
“But you want me to do it.”
“As soon as possible.”
A little while later, Heather returned the call Kimberly had made earlier. They chatted about the shopping trip and more items were requested from Mortified. Finally Kimberly explained Helen’s demand.
“Lets see, if you get a Brazilian, Helen goes down on you.”
“Its called a Brazilian?”
“Yes. I guess, sixty bucks is not a bad deal.”
“Well to be more precise Helen wants me to get a Brazilian and then save myself for her.”
“She’s bluffing, she would be happy to lick you out either way.”
“So I shouldn’t get the Brazilian?”
“Will it hurt?”
“Of course. It hurts like hell.”
* * * * *
Kimberly called HQ to discover that the announcement had been put off yet again. The men were to be found in a Gentleman’s club called the Greasy Pole. For a brief moment Kimberly wondered if she might enjoy watching naked women dance provocatively for her. The men need not be an obstacle: There were plenty of other strip clubs in town. Some even had names that could be considered sexy or erotic.
“I think I’ll give that a miss.”
“Keep the money and spend it on shoes.” The admin offered.
“You think the guys are paying for theirs?”
Now why was that not surprising?
What did surprise was that the admin offered to process Kimberley’s receipt from Blackmail. She would be reimbursed tomorrow morning, in cash. Expenses would usually take months to process and were rarely paid in full. Just what was going on?
Waxed or not, the bikini was not suitable dinner wear. Kimberly perused her unusually full hotel closet for a suitable outfit.
* * * * *
Downstairs in the lobby, there was a queue for the concierge. Kimberly gave a sigh.
“Figures,” she said under her breath.
“Hard day?” the man in front of her asked. He was wearing a tailored business suit and wedding band.
“Right now, I want to think about anything that isn’t work.”
“Right now, I am thinking the same.”
“Frustrating.” he shot back with a smile.
Even though looking for company was the furthest thing from Kimberly’s mind, the habits of three months of bar hopping and casual sex had become second nature. A short while later they were sitting together at a restaurant.
His name was Adam and he was visiting from San Francisco.
“You are like the third person I have met from San Francisco recently.”
“Really? I thought this was open season on West coast liberals like me.”
“Relax, this is Austin, you are safe.”
They chatted for a while. Adam had moved to San Francisco after finding Iowa too conservative for his taste. Kimberly pumped him for details.
“Why are you so interested in San Francisco?”
“Because that is where I am going after my divorce.”
“Got a job to go to?”
“OK, give me a minute.”
Adam pulled out his mobile and dialed a number.
“Hi honey, you got a minute?” Even though Adam leaned closer to Kimberly, she could only hear one side of the conversation.
“Just having dinner with a friend.”
“Can I talk a minute?”
“Could you just.”
Adam handed Kimberly the phone.
“Hi, I’m Chloe.” A friendly voice answered.
“Could you do me a favor?”
“When I say, just look at him and look shocked.”
“OK then, go.”
Kimberly did her best. Adam buried his face in his hands with embarrassment.
“Isn’t that cute?”
Adam took the phone back and attempted to regain some dignity.
“As I was about to say dearest, Kimberly here is looking for a job in San Francisco. Since you are a professional recruiter, I thought you might appreciate the referral.”
Kimberly picked the device up of the table from where Adam had thrown it in disgust but she was laughing too hard to speak.
“That was good.”
“I’m sorry hun but I thought he was calling to ask permission for you to sleep with him. I hope you aren’t offended.”
“He has my card, if you are really interested in a job call me and we can talk. If not, feel free to do whatever you want with him.”
“Yes, seriously. He gives great oral”
“I might just take you up on that.”
“Do it then.”
After meeting the girls, Kimberly had decided to give up sleeping with married men. She was certain that Frank had forfeited his claim on her fidelity; she could not say the same for the other men’s wives.
This was different, and unexpected. Chloe had not merely given permission, she had encouraged them. Kimberly decided to
“Look, I am really not offended.”
“Well not unless you weren’t going to make good on her offer.”
“I would not want to disappoint her.”
* * * * *
Kimberley’s objective in her previous encounters with men had been to get him into bed as quickly as possible, fuck and leave. Those she thought might have wanted more, she avoided.
This time they lingered in the restaurant even after it was decided they would sleep together. They even stopped off at an ice cream shop on the way back.
“Have you ever tried it with this?”, Adam held up his ice cream cone.
“No, I can’t say I have.”
“Chloe saw it in a film once and thought it was hot.”
“Not really, it was more of a sticky mess.”
“It was one of those, try anything once things.”
“Your cute, you know.”
“The way you talk about sex as if it is not a big deal.”
“But it is a big deal, just not in the way we are told we are to think about it.”
They continued to talk sex as they walked back to the hotel. It was the first time Kimberly had had a real grown up conversation about sex with a partner. In high school, Frank had been only too willing to talk about sex but had had nothing to say. Later, the topic had been closed.
As they entered the lift, Adam asked, “Your place or mine?”
“Yours,” Kimberly answered.
A woman in her 60s with a face like a trout looked at them with disapproval from the corner of the lift.
“O.K.,” Adam hit the button for the top floor.
“Ah the Penthouse suites.”
“Privilege of rank,” Adam said with a smile.
As the lift began to climb, a thought suddenly occurred to Kimberly. She reached out and pressed the button for her own floor.
“Anything wrong?” Adam asked.
As the mirror-finish lift doors opened in front of them, Kimberly caught a glimpse of trout-face smiling behind her.
“I just want us to fuck in my room, that’s all.” Kimberly made sure the trout could hear without raising her voice so that it was obvious she was doing so.
Trout-face stiffend and her lips returned to their customary pouting-position.
“That was naughty.” Adam chided her when she was gone.
“Did you see the way she looked at us?”
“You would look that way too with the same stick up your ass.”
“So why your room instead of my luxury penthouse.”, Adam said with mock seriousness.
“Because I can.”
“Make love with someone in my space instead of theirs.”
* * * * *
Once inside, Kimberly opened one of the half-bottles of wine from the mini-bar. They undressed, removing their clothes neither hurriedly, nor provocatively but in a matter of fact way, as if they were old friends and it was just a natural thing for them to want to be naked together.
Adam placed his jacket and trousers on a hanger in Kimberly’s wardrobe.
“That’s quite some collection of clothes, you weren’t joking about your shopping.” he said with appreciation.
“I never joke about my shopping, 007.” Kimberly did her best to match Desmond Llewellyn’s deadpan delivery.
They sat naked together on the couch. Adam’s body was trim but not overly muscular. Kimberly idly ran her hands through his chest hair. They finished their wine and began to kiss.
“I feel grimy.”
“I don’t mind grime unless you do.” Adam replied, “The Emperor Napoleon used to write from the battlefield to tell Josephine, ‘I am coming - do not wash!’ “
“That was before they invented hot water”, Kimberly replied, “Come scrub my back.”
When the modern hotel began to emerge with the spread of the railways, hotel living was the ultimate in luxury. Today there are few advantages that a hotel room can offer over the comforts of home. The beds are less comfortable, the decor is bland, they have the wrong TV channels. One of the few compensations is the ability to take a shower with an unlimited supply of hot water at any time of the day or night.
Unusually for a business class hotel, Kimberly’s room had a separate shower rather than the more common shower-in-the-bath affair. The shower head gave a generous shower of pleasingly warm water that felt good against her skin. Kimberly closed her eyes to concentrate on the slippery touch of Adam’s body rubbing against her own, his hands soaping and caressing her all over.
He stood behind her, kissing her neck and soaping her breasts. His stiff prick pressed into her. Kimberly turned round to soap his balls and his long, stiff cock. The curve of his buttocks was tempting but how could Kimberly pay attention to that area without abandoning his cock?
Kimberly knelt in front of Adam and took the head of his prick in her mouth. It felt good. Kimberly ran her hands over his buttocks, they were hairy like his chest but firmer, more muscular. She ran her hand down his but crack.
“Oh yes”, Adam moaned.
Adam leaned back on the marble clad wall, parting his legs slightly to allow her better access.
Kimberly would have responded, but her mouth was full. She swirled her tongue around the tip of his cock, pressing the tip into the little ridge beneath the tip.
Kimberly ran the corner of the soap she was holding along his crack. The cock inside her mouth jerked as the corner touched his hole.
Twisting the soap slightly, Kimberly was able to work a corner inside. Adam’s quad’s tensed slightly.
The next step was a little more tricky. Cupping his balls with one hand, Kimberly pressed a finger lightly against his hole. The soap had made it slippery and it went inside with almost no pressure.
“Oh yes, do it.”
Needing no more encouragement, Kimberly worked her finger slowly but surely inside. The ring of his anus was smooth and tight around her finger. She could feel his cock, stiffen and quiver with each movement. His hands clasped tightly at her shoulders.
The release was sudden and unexpected. The stiff rod in her mouth jerked and started to soften. A dull, salty, sticky fluid filled Kimberly’s mouth as her partner gave a loud cry.
Kimberly stood up to show her lover the evidence of what they had just done. Globs of the milky fluid covered her tongue and dribbled down her lips. Kimberly examined Adam’s face as she swallowed them to see his smile.
It was just a smile, no more. It was all that was required. Kimberly’s other lovers would have lavished praise on her. But Adam did not need to. His smile told her all she needed to know. She had pleased him, just as he knew she would. And now he would please her. Words were unnecessary.
Adam helped Kimberly into her bath robe and dried her hair for her as they sat together on the couch. The hotel drier was a puny effort with barely enough heat to do its job. But neither of them was in a hurry. When he was finished, Adam mischievously directed a blast of warm air down the front of her robe.
This led to a retaliation and a counterstrike that eventually left them lying together in bed giggling.
“We are all sweaty again”, Kimberly pointed out with fake indignation.
“Here, let me help clean you up.”
Adam ran his tongue over her nipples drawing short gasps of breath from his partner. It was as if there had been no break in their love making.
Soon his tongue was exploring her slit. Chole had been right: He was very good at oral. She soon found herself coming to the brink of orgasm, but instead of tipping her over the top, Adam changed his tempo just slightly and the sensation began to recede only to return again with the next flick of his tongue.
As she grew more excited, Adam began using his fingers inside her. A quantity of lube was applied to her ass and she felt herself being penetrated in both places at the same time by his thumb and finger.
The previous Tuesday, Kimberly had assumed that no man would ever be able to please her, that no man could understand her body the way that Alice had: She had been wrong. As she came, Kimberly’s body shook so violently that her hand struck Adam’s face with enough force to leave a mark.
Before the waves of orgasm were over, he was inside her, his long, thick cock sliding effortlessly into her willing cunt, his strokes squeezing out the last drops of orgasm.
The wonderful sensation of fullness caused Kimberly to sigh. She felt complete. Adam lasted considerably longer than the first time.
“Come inside me honey, I want you to come.” Kimberly begged.
“Take the top then.” Without withdrawing, Adam rolled them both over so that Kimberly was riding cowgirl.
The new position allowed Adam to stroke her clit as she rode. Soon a second wave of bliss was coming over her. more subdued but just as satisfying as the first.
“How can I make you come, baby”, Kimberly enquired.
Adam directed her to kneel and started pounding her from behind, pressing his thumb into her ass he worked. He slipped inside easily.
“Take me! Take me!” Kimberly screamed as Adam’s juice squirted inside her.
As they lay together in the afterglow, Kimberly gently stroked his cock. She now had the answer to the question she had been wondering about all night: Adam was Ass-Worthy.
“Can we do this again tomorrow?” Kimberly asked.
“I hope so. But I may have to work.”
“It should only be one night. Could you wait till Wednesday if I have to work?”
“I have something special I would like to do.”
* * * * *
In the morning, Adam woke early and left to do something called ‘dial up’ in his room. When he called back it was with the bad news that he would have to work.
As Kimberly had come to expect, the announcement was postponed yet again. On the positive side the admin had paid for her purchases at the shoe store as well.
It would be another day of waiting. There would be no news on the announcement until after 3pm.
Kimberly drove to the spa to find that it didn’t open until 10. Mortified was also shut. She went to another Starbucks to wait and try and suppress second thoughts.
She tried to think about the night before with Adam but all she could think about was how it was going to feel to have her hair ripped out by the roots. Did she really have to do this? Couldn’t she just shave?
There was nobody behind the counter when Kimberly entered the spa. Just as she had decided that the place was deserted and she could leave, the cosmetologist appeared; a woman in her late fifties who wore a white lab coat and spoke with a thick East European accent.
Kimberly gave her order and paid over the sixty buck plus tax.
“Sit!”, The woman’s speech was relentlessly monosyllabic. She somehow managed to say a word with two or even three syllables in one.
Kimberly sat and waited her turn listening to the muffled screams of the previous victim.
Kimberly followed the woman to a spartan cubicle with only a padded bench, a table covered with supplies and a hook for her clothes.
Kimberly quickly removed her shoes and skirt but not quite quickly enough.
A sheet of paper from a roll was laid over the bench and Kimberly commanded to lie on it.
The cosmetologist took a scoop of wax with a spatula and let it slowly drip back into the pot to test the viscosity. She nodded with approval and snapped on a pair of gloves.
Kimberly took a sharp breath in anticipation of the agony that was to follow.
Next, her pubic hair was trimmed to a precise length to facilitate removal; neither too long so that it was difficult to the apply the wax with accuracy, nor too short to provide sufficient purchase for removal.
The process was swift, methodical and brutal; beginning at feet and working upwards. Strips of wax about two inches wide were applied to her legs with the spatula. A small strip of cloth was added and another strip applied. The wax was uncomfortably but not unbearably warm.
Just as Kimberly became used to the discomfort of the wax there was a sudden stinging sensation as the first of the strips was removed, then another and another, each fresh attack advancing upwards towards her pubis.
Her slit was given a brief respite as the brutal process continued on the back of her legs. The removal of each strip felt like receiving a very hard slap with the palm of the hand.
Kimberly was made to kneel, an antiseptic wipe was run across the length of her crack and the process continued.
Kimberly complied and the final assault began. The strips were smaller now but considerably more painful. The removal of each strip was accompanied by a low guttural cry like the cry of a boxer as he delivers each blow. Kimberly wondered how her assailant could made such a cry without moving her mouth until she realized that she was the one screaming.
Kimberly was twisted and formed to remove the last traces. Her legs were pulled forward, back, spread wide apart. The discomfort of these contortions provided a momentary distraction from the sharp pain that followed.
At last it was over and a light dusting of powder was applied.
Kimberly was left alone to dress. The unusual feel of her hand against her sex gave her a shiver of excitement. With each step she could feel the weave of her panties pulling across her denuded skin, a constant series of reminders of what was missing as she walked.
As she opened the door to leave the building, she heard the sounds of the third victim of the day beginning her trial. For the first time since breakfast, the corners of her mouth turned slightly upwards to give the faintest hint of a smile.
* * * * *
Kimberly could not wait to tell someone, but didn’t feel like driving back to the hotel. On a whim she ducked in to a VoiceStream store, emerging a fully equipped yuppie a shot while later.
Helen was the first person she called.
“I did it.”
“Wow, how does it feel?”
“Will you be at the Gee Spot tonight?”
“Don’t know yet, I don’t think I can.”
“I want to be the first, can I, can I?”
“Can you be at my hotel in an hour?”
Helen’s car was still in the shop.
* * * * *
The announcement finally came at 3:30 pm. The company was being sold. That much had been obvious since the day before. The presentation of the details dragged on late into the evening. Members of the family had broad grins on their faces: They would do well from the deal. Others reacted with concern, relief or wry amusement according to their situation.
Kimberly didn’t much care. She had only taken the job because it was the best she could find in Cattle River. And her only reason for being in Cattle River was to be with Frank. She could do much better elsewhere. There would be personal interviews with each manager that evening and the deputy managers the following morning. Kimberly’s interview would be at 8 am. It was already 7:30 when the meeting broke up.
What she did care about was getting Helen to take care of her newly smooth pussy.
The drive to Houston was at least 3½ hours each way. A seven hour round trip without traffic, closer to eight since she would be hitting rush hour on the way back.
Shit. Shit. Shit.
When she had agreed to let Helen be the first, she had expected to be able to start driving to Houston much earlier and had been counting on a further morning of delay the next day.
Kimberly had been giving Helen hourly updates on the situation. She called her a last time to give her the bad news.
“It hurts like hell hon, it hurts like hell.”
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with this note attached, it has been posted without my permission.
<a href="http://www.lushstories.com/stories/novels/the-escape-chapter-4-adam.aspx">The Escape Chapter 4: Adam</a>