Once again, I'd like to thank the incredibly sexy Annanova for her amazing work editing for me. I'm forever grateful for her contributions and for her friendship.
All rights reserved. mimaster 2011
The week was going by far too quickly. Ann had arrived on Friday and in what seemed like the blink of an eye, I was staring at the sun going down late Wednesday afternoon as I drove home from work. Well, it was home, if you counted a hotel room as your place of residence. Still, I smiled, because I had someone to go home to.
I was thankful that it was the afternoon because the days at work seemed to drag on endlessly, while the time with Ann flew by. It was as if the nine plus hours I was putting in at work were taking double that, and the few waking hours I had left with Ann after I got off were more like minutes. I was starting to think my watch was broken...the hour hand creeping along during the days and spinning around wildly once I made it to the parking lot to drive back to Ann.
But no matter how the hours of the days passed, there were still just 24 of them and there was no denying the fact that it was already Wednesday. Even with the workdays crawling, I couldn't help but feel that Monday and Tuesday had gone by in a bit of a blur. It was only Sunday that had seemed normal...at least, normal for Ann and me. That was because Sunday was OUR day, and we'd started it Saturday night.
~*~*~*~*~*~
Ann and I left the outlet complex and headed back to the hotel, two bags of lingerie from Henrietta's House in hand, with Ann practically floating to the car. She was riding the high from what we'd done at Henrietta's – fuck wildly in one of the bedrooms of the former brothel. While we were doing that, we'd been in plain view of a dozen or so people in the outlet center across the street. We didn't know who they were, or what they looked like, we only knew they had been there, watching us through the bedroom window from afar.
When we walked through that same outlet shortly after, Ann said she felt the eyes of the people we passed looking at her, feeling like they ALL had watched her lying on that bed, letting me fuck her mercilessly. That had her so excited she actually shivered a couple of times as we moved through the halls of the outlet, making our way to the car. Yet that wasn't even close to the only thing that had her worked up.
She sat in the passenger seat, bouncing up and down with excitement just like she had when I'd driven her to the outlets in the first place. Originally, she had been excited about me taking her shopping. Driving through the old streets downtown heading back to the hotel, she was giddy for a different reason and it had nothing to do with what we'd done and who had seen it.
"God, Neil...I still can't believe Camilla is going to drop everything she's doing just for me," she said, her words coming out so fast I could barely understand them.
Camilla was Mary Ann's mother and they were the co-owners of Henrietta's House. Camilla was also one of the main seamstresses and the primary designer of the custom lingerie the store carried. Additionally, she made ornate evening gowns, and when Ann saw their amazing quality, she jokingly asked Mary Ann if her mother made wedding dresses.
While Ann had said it in jest, she'd also said it out of frustration. She told me on the way back to the hotel that she'd been searching for the perfect wedding dress since the day I left Indiana to start my new job; it was a task that was proving to be impossible. Even knowing the features she wanted in her dress, she couldn't find one that encompassed all of them, whatever they were. She said she didn't want to have to sacrifice what she wanted, but she knew that no off-the-rack dress was going to have all the things she had in her mind. When she tried to broach the idea of having a dress made, the places that knew how to do it were too far away and they were going to charge a small fortune. After meeting with Camilla, Ann suddenly saw some hope.
"She's dropping everything?" I asked.
"Yeah...can you believe it!"
"Not really. Why would she drop everything?"
"Because, she knows I'm only going to be here the rest of this week."
"She's going to make you a wedding dress in a week," I said, shaking my head a little.
"She says she can do it...and do it the way I want it. In fact, she had a couple of ideas that will make it even better!"
"What's that going to cost?" I asked, forgetting for a second that I wasn't footing the bill for that; her parents were. As soon as I said it, I realized it was a mistake.
The look Ann gave me told me what I already knew, but she let me off easy, explaining, "Let's just say that if I were still pretending to be Barbara, I'd need to work a couple more nights like last night to cover it."
She was talking about our night of role-playing, where she portrayed 'Barbara', the beautiful, intelligent, high-class escort. For my part in that little fantasy, I'd 'paid' her a thousand dollars in return for an evening of pleasure.
I let out a huge laugh and said, "Let's hope that's not what your Mom's doing to pay for it."
Ann actually snorted when she laughed. But she'd also opened the door. She'd finally referred to her playing the role of Barbara, instead of still pretending that Barbara actually existed. That meant the fantasy was over, at least for the time being. It also meant that perhaps Ann would be willing to answer a few of the questions that had been piling up in my brain since I'd knocked on the door to room 117 and she'd answered it in a red wig.
"Ann...can I ask you some questions about last night?" I said, deciding that's where I wanted to start if she'd let me.
Ann giggled. "I'm surprised it's taken you this long, baby."
"Well, I didn't want to ask until I knew for sure you were done pretending that Barbara exists."
"Oh, she still exists, Neil. She's inside me somewhere," Ann laughed. "But it was sweet of you to wait. So, what would you like to know?"
"I'm not sure where to start."
"Why don't you just take it from the top?"
"Okay, since you put it that way, where did the red hair come from?"
"Which red hair are you talking about?" she asked in her sexy voice, her eyes shifting down toward her crotch.
"Uh...both," I said rather bashfully, although I wasn't sure why.
"I chose red because Doris was a redhead. At least, she was on my television."
"Doris? Who the hell is Doris?"
Ann snickered and said, "Doris...from
The Owl and the Pussycat
