It was around 6 PM that Tuesday when all of Camilla's and Candice's guests got dressed and ready to leave their apartment, though Camilla as usual remained in the nude; she even left Calina's come on her face, knowing that the Russian nymphomaniac would like to see her still gooey-faced. Calina was the last guest to leave.
"With a body as beautiful as yours, Calina," Camilla told the girl, whose come was dripping off the speaker's chin, "you should work as a stripper with Candice and me at
Luvlee's
."
"We all naked together?" Calina asked in her lyrical Russian accent. "So hot!"
"Yes," Candice said. "It pays well, too. It'll be good for paying for your university tuition. And talk about summer partying! Sex, drugs, you name it. All the men want you; you just pick the men you like."
"Make me crazy," Calina sighed. "We three make love, too?"
"Sure," Camilla said. "Candice and I eat each other's pussies onstage sometimes...
while everybody watches
. Feel free to join us when we do."
"Oh, how exciting!" Calina moaned. "I think about it. See you next week in summer school trigonometry class, Camilla; and, I hope, you both in
Luvlee's
. Bye!" Calina walked out the door and left.
"Bye," Camilla said, then closed the door. "Now to clean up and get ready for my dinner-date with Mr. Langella."
"You're fucking him tonight?" Candice asked. "What about
Bates Massage
? Don't you have to work there tonight?"
"No, I quit," Camilla said. "I got sick of it there. Always the same old fat, ugly pigs of men for customers--not my types at all. It's no fun there anymore. Besides, I've got new work posing for Bob. Now
that's
fun work. You should do a lezzie video with me for him one of these days."
"I don't know if I want to be seen in porn," Candice said.
"We can do it POV style; only
my
face will be seen. They won't see your face: only your body. Think about it. Anyway, I've gotta get ready."
Camilla showered, put on a dark red evening gown with matching high heels, and painted up her face in this manner: dark red lipstick, thick mascara, dark blue eye shadow, and pink blush. Then she did her hair up in a bun and went into the living room so Candice could see.
"What do you think?" Camilla asked. "Whore of the century?"
"
Elegant
whore of the century," Candice said. "You look great."
"Thanks," Camilla said. "Gotta go. Bye." She opened the door and walked out.
"Bye," Candice said as the door was closed. Then Candice got a bag of heroin and a hypodermic needle she got from Francine, and looked in the kitchen for a spoon.
*****************
Camilla arrived in her car at Langella's house at about 8:05 PM; he was waiting on his porch for her. "Do you ever look beautiful!" he said as she got out of her car.
"Thanks," she said as she closed her car door. He took her into his house. The last time she had been in his house--last Friday night--she was too high and preoccupied with sex to notice all the art on Langella's living room walls, all painted by him. They were all in an Expressionist style, showing man's anguish at seeing his society corrupted by selfish desire, and his fear of one day having to bear responsibility for his sins. Camilla was awed by her art teacher's talent. "Sir, with so much talent, why do you only
teach
art?"
"Because that's how I put food on the table, obviously," he said. "Speaking of food, our dinner's just about ready." The aroma of their meal, lobster creole, was emanating from the kitchen and hovering throughout the house.
"Mmm, that smells good!" she said as he led her into the dining room.
"Thanks," he said, pulling out a chair for her at the dining room table. She sat down, and he went into the kitchen to get the food. He brought back the lobster on plates for both of them, then he uncorked a bottle of wine--Sauternes--and poured both of them a glass. They clinked glasses, took a sip, and started eating.
"Sir!" she said after her first few bites. "This is good! You could just as easily be a professional gourmet chef."
"I'm glad you like it," he said. "At the risk of sounding snobbish, I believe in good taste. High quality in food, and high quality in the arts. The music you were stripping to on Friday night--the Black Eyed Peas and that kind of thing--is that what you normally strip to?"
"No, usually I choose older music," she said.
"I'm glad to hear that," he said. "There's so much better music to strip to than trash like Peaches or Trampauline, if you don't mind my criticizing you."
"Oh, I agree. I only danced to 'Gang-banged' because I wanted you teachers to
do that
to me."
"So, that's why you always sang that in front of me in art class; I understand you sang that in front of Mr. Williams in his class, too."
"Yeah, I'm a bad girl; I hope you can forgive me for that."
"Speaking of forgiving, I hope you can forgive us for what happened after the gang-bang two weeks ago in that old abandoned building. You running out naked and all, and those punks chasing you. Terrible."
"I know, but it all turned out okay. I remember the bruises you guys got from fighting them."
"Yeah, you can still see the black eye I got, if you look carefully. Kids like those punks, and that new 'music', are the poisons of society."
"Speaking of poison, sir, can you tell me more about what happened to Mr. Leroy, please?"