~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
For the next few days I had difficulty concentrating - and with class
preparations to do and a dissertation to complete, that was *not* a good
thing.  I saw Grace in class on Monday and Wednesday, but there was
certainly no flash of recognition from her that suggested she might have
known I'd been in to see her.  She was once more dressed simply:  jeans and
a button-down shirt, a necklace with a small cross.  Again she had on
glasses and her hair was tied back.  Finally, I began to make some progress
in banishing the distracting thoughts, although when Thursday morning
rolled around again I woke up very early, awaiting  the encounter I'd have
later in the day.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
I slid into the booth again, trembling with anticipation.
"Hi, Kitty?"
"Mark, is that you?"   A big grin was on her face.  "I was hoping that
you'd come in.  I have to be honest that I thought about our conversation a
few times this week when I'd play with myself before going to bed."
I'm ordinarily a very skeptical person, and I would be very suspicious of
anything a woman said in a situation like this, but she definitely seemed
sincere.  The fact that she remembered and even said my name before I had
begun to speak beyond saying hello convinced me.  "How'd you know it was me
so fast?"
"Oh, you just have a distinctively sexy voice," she smiled.  Oh-oh.  Was
the change I was trying to effect so noticeable that she could pick it out
that easily?  "What would you like to do this week?"
"Oh, just more of the same...but let's take it a little further.  I kept
picturing your body all week long.  I don't know...I just want you to enjoy
the encounter as much as I do - I really get off on that.  Um, why don't
you tell me a little more about what you like sexually and touch yourself
the way you like best and we'll take it from there."  I slipped some money
through the slot.
"Okay,"  she slipped off the (very, very cute) polka dot panties she had on
this time and moved her right hand down over her vulva.  "Well, I like a
lot of foreplay and stuff.  I'm really into touching and being touched for
a long time before.  Oh, and lots of french kissing.  I'm pretty oral.  My
boyfriend used to give really good head, and I loved to suck on him for a
long time too before taking him inside me.  He was a pretty good lover -
uninhibited and open, and I felt like I learned a lot from him.  Too bad he
could be such a jerk outside of bed sometimes."   She frowned and shook her
head from side to side as though she was recalling something.  "Hearing
about him doesn't bother you at all, does it?"
"No, not at all.  Should it?"
"I don't know.  It just felt kind of odd to mention him; I haven't done
that before here...I mean, don't you think it's a little weird to talk
about a lover, when I'm naked and playing with myself for you?"
"Hey, Kitty," I said laughing, "I'm in a long-distance relationship myself
at the moment.  Does that bother you?"
"No," she laughed too.   "Does your girlfriend know you're here?"
"No."  Now it was my turn to frown and shake my head from side to side.
"I've just been feeling horny and lonely without her - I don't want to
cheat on her.  I mean, no contact that is."
"I understand."  Forget that this woman was a sex goddess to me; there was
something about her that I just really liked.  I hadn't spoken to her much
in class yet, but she seemed very bright and pleasant there as well.  I
felt this bizarre mixture of closeness and distance from her: the utter
intimacy of her masturbating openly in front of me and our talking like
this sincerely, on one hand, and the fundamental dishonesty of our, at
least theoretically, anonymous identities.
"So, what else do you like?  What's the wildest thing you've done?"
"Oh, I screwed him once in a department store dressing room.  That was
fun." She hesitated briefly, looking very unsure of herself, "And once when
I was fourteen I..." she stopped.
"You?...."
"No, never mind. I'd feel too weird talking about it."
"Okay...."  My curiosity was certainly aroused, but I let it go.  It gave
me a strong erotic jolt to think that she was going to reveal something
particularly uncomfortable to me that she might not have shared with others
before.  I felt my cock stiffen even more.
"Oh, my ex and I would watch porn movies together sometimes."
"Yeah?"
"Yeah, and we'd fantasize about fucking some of the women there together.
Mmm, that was really good."  As if to indicate that was indeed the case,
she started rubbing herself a little more firmly.
"So, you're attracted to other women?"
"Oh, definitely,  I fantasize about it from time to time.  I'm just afraid
to take the initiative.  If a woman I found attractive came on to me, I'd
certainly reciprocate, though."
"Tell me what you 'd want to do."
"Mostly I'd just want to kiss for a really long time, while we touched each
other's breasts.  I'd really like to have a woman go down on me.  I just
bet it would feel really soft and different from a guy.  No stubble to
worry about it.  And I'd love to lick a woman too, really bury my face
between her legs...."
"What kind of women do you like best?"
"Blondes, mostly.  Pretty ones, athletic looking, the women I see in the
gym.  Sometimes other Asian women, especially if they have some sense of
style - punkish haircuts or cool piercings, maybe.  I guess it's because I
want to dress like that, but I know I'd get a really hard time from my
parents if I did, and it's not worth the hassle...I think about our getting
wet and rubbing our pussies together.  Sometimes I wonder what it would be
like to take a strap-on and fuck another woman with it." Her hand continued
to work idly in her pussy as she was talking.  "Thinking about it and
telling you about it is getting me turned on.  A lot of guys who come in
here are just kind of quiet and breathe hard, even if they're nice.  This
is a lot hotter."
We continued talking in this vein and she started posing for me as she had
the previous week.  As I  got close to coming, she kept inching closer and
closer to the glass until she was touching it.  Her tits were soon flush up
against the pane, mashed flat against it in an odd but extremely sexy way,
her face only an inch away.  The small cross on the necklace I'd noticed in
class before pressed right between her cleavage.  Again cradling the phone
between her chin and shoulder, she put her hands up on the glass in an
attitude of mock-submission, and said, "I want you to come all over my
face."
Hearing that was more than I could bear.  I stood up so that my cock was
pointing right over her cheeks and shot off all over the glass in several
hot jets.  My sperm was literally just a centimeter or so from her face.  I
grabbed one of the kleenex that were kept in the booth for just such a
purpose and after admiring the sight for a few more moments began to wipe
the cum off.
"Boy, it'd be nice to watch you come,"  she sighed.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Excerpts from our conversation the following Thursday:
"I want you to be the director, making a movie of me with a whole bunch of
men, filming me sucking all these guys off and then fucking them.  I like
the idea of being gang-banged, especially 'cause even though it would look
like I was serving all these guys, like a totally submissive slut, I'd be
the one who was really in control.  And I want it to be all sorts of guys,
and I'd get to choose them:  Have one be a black athlete - that'd really
piss off my Dad,"she laughed, "oh, and make one of them be Japanese - if he
even knew I had a fantasy of being with a really good-looking Japanese guy,
he'd probably disown me...."
I had her imagine that she was on all fours, one guy's dick bobbing in
front of her face, another moving in and out of her pussy, while she
reached up and jacked off some others, including one well hung Italian porn
star she had mentioned thinking was really sexy.  All the while (and here I
modified her suggestion slightly) I would be making a video of her for
myself and my fiancee.  I asked her to imagine that we were auditioning her
to see whether she would be worth taking home for us to share....(yeah,
right, like there would be any question.)
"Yeah, imagine how that big Italian cock would feel in your hand, Kitty,
and that gorgeous guy's huge black dick in your mouth."
Her eyes went wide when I said that.  "God, that sounds so totally
*nasty*....Mmm."
"Yeah, put on a good show so that my fiancee and I will think about having
you join the two of us in bed."
"I know how to convince you I'm hot enough for you - I want them to come
all over me at once - feel the hot sticky come running all over my body.
On my tits and face."
"Do you really like that?"
"Definitely, I think it looks very sexy."
"Okay, all these guys are about to come - think about all that hot sperm
landing on your body..."
"God, I'm ccc - -" she never finished the sentence.  Only a low moan.  As I
heard Grace explode in orgasm, I allowed myself to come too with a gasp.
I felt spent.
"Mmmm."
"Wow.  That was amazing....I never expected to feel something like that in
here. I mean I've been having fun with you, but...."  A bead of sweat
trickled down her forehead.  "Give me a second to get my breath back."  I
studied her gorgeous body in its post-orgasmic flush.   She then moved her
hand back down to her dripping pussy and her still fully engorged labia and
clit.  "Okay, now tell me how they all fuck me in the ass, one by one,
especially Rocco....."
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Before I left the booth that night, I slipped an envelope through the slot
with a twenty and some instructions of what I wanted her to bring in for
our next meeting in the booth.   After a lot of thinking it over, I had
decided to give her my phone number as well, and just wrote that she could
give me a ring if she ever felt like calling.  I made it clear that I'd be
willing to pay, too, and that way she could avoid having the owners take a
cut of what she earned.  I knew this might have been a little risky,  but I
hadn't given my phone number to my students and had never been called at
home by any of them, so I had no expectation that she would match seven
random digits to me.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Helen came out for a long  weekend.  We had a great time together, and most
of it we wound up spending in bed.  I was extremely relieved to find that
fantasies of Grace didn't intrude while we were together.....well, except
briefly: sometimes we'll share a fantasy about having a threesome with
another woman while we're making love, too, and I have to admit Grace was
certainly the one I envisioned to round out our menage a trois.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
"I brought in what you asked me to, " she said after a few minutes.   Grace
reached down beside her and pulled out a cucumber, banana, a carrot, and a
coke bottle from a paper bag.  "So you'd like to see me fuck myself with
these things, would you?  You're certainly a naughty boy."  She didn't say
anything about my having written down my phone number.
"Oh, fantastic - you did bring the stuff in.  Yes, I'd love to see you fuck
yourself with those things."
"Say please,"  she teased.
"Please."
"No, make it 'pretty please.' "
"Pretty please."
"Pretty please with sugar on top."
"All right, pretty please with sugar on top," I said, trying to sound
annoyed and amused and fully aware of our game-playing.
"Okay.  Mmmmm....." A groan escaped her lips as she slid the coke bottle up
into her cunt.  She grasped it firmy around the base and pushed it in and
out of herself - slowly at first and then more rapidly.  The whole time she
was staring right at where she thought I would be through the glass and
licking her lips.  "Mmmmmm.  Feels very good,"  she said in a sultry voice.
We experimented with each of the items I had asked her to bring in.  Grace
wasn't impressed with the banana, "Well, I can see how it might look sexy
and all, but it's too squishy.  It's not very good."
"Mmm, but I bet it's be nice to lick out of you."
"Yeah," she grinned, "but still, I wouldn't want to get a yeast infection
or something from some tiny bit that gets stuck in there...."
The carrot, for some reason, wasn't that appealing either.  God only knows
why it would look more freakish than the other items, but it did. I'd
always been curious to see a woman with one, and now my curiosity was
satisfied.  After Grace had fucked herself with it for fifteen not terribly
enthusiastic seconds, she took it out of her pussy (which was quite wet,
however) and stuck it in her mouth, "Eh, what's up, doc?"
I burst into such laughter it caused me to release my grip on my dick and
my hard-on even momentarily subsided.  "Oh, man, Kitty...."  And then I
suddenly felt sobered.  "You know, you really are someone special."
"Why do you sound so serious all of a sudden?"
"No, forget about it - I...I just think you're a really cool person."
"Thanks, Mark,"  And then she looked serious, as well.  "I know I've never
seen your face, but I really like you too..."  The mood became bizarrely -
and I do mean bizarrely, considering that she had just had a carrot
inserted in her vagina - somber for a moment, but then Grace brightened up
and said, "Hey, let's try the cucumber too, okay?"
The cucumber appealed to her considerably more.  "My god," she gasped,
"that feels incredibly good - I never would have expected it - I'll have to
try this at home. The coolness of it feels really awesome."  She plunged it
in and out of her cunt for several minutes, as the two of us got
considerably more and more worked up.  Grace came first, while I held off
and then once again she kneeled so close to the window that it seemed as
though I was coming on her glorious tits.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
At the end of our session each week, I took to slipping  envelopes with $20
and some particular erotic instructions for Grace through the slot.  She
told me that she liked getting these notes.  They were sort of an erotic
surprise each week that she looked forward to.  One week I wrote that the
thought of her attending her classes while not wearing her panties was very
sexy to me.  I asked her to do it and report back to me.  Sure enough, the
following Monday Grace came to class in a knee-length skirt, unlike the
jeans she usually wore.   The skirt itself was nothing at all revealing and
wouldn't have been noteworthy to anyone else, but I was absolutely certain
that she wasn't wearing panties.  The thought of her sitting in front of me
in "Grace mode" like that and knowing that I might maybe, maybe, maybe if
she somehow shifted the right way catch a glimpse of her bare thighs and
the gorgeus short straight wisps of her pubic hair was very powerful.  It
was a very idiotic move on my part.  I have never had so much trouble
leading a class in my life and at a couple of moments I had to mentally
will the bulge I felt rising in my pants back down.  I'd like to think my
distraction wasn't evident to my students, however.
The following Thursday I asked Grace how it went, without any further
leading questions.  She told me how sexy she had felt going around campus
without panties, and the charge she got from it.   Her exhibitionism was
discreet and clearly intended to excite her - and me - alone.  She didn't
say anything about reactions from any of her teachers or anybody else, for
that matter.  I felt relieved about that, although part of me wondered
whether I was hoping for her to mention me as Michael, not as Mark.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
I had just finished eating dinner when the phone rang.
"Uh, Mark?  Hi, it's me, Kitty."
"Kitty?!...."  I immediately shifted to my "Mark" voice.
"Yeah, I called to talk....Just talk, not sexily I mean.  I'm not in the
mood...Do you mind? "
"No, no, of course, that's fine."
"You know, I realized you're the only person I can talk to about this
stuff.  Nobody else really knows."  Grace had just had a fight with her
parents and was feeling  upset.  She also told me that she had been very
lonely since she'd transferred to college up here; she admitted that she
was prone to depression and had been seeing a therapist on campus, too.  "I
don't have very many friends around, actually.  My roommate is a nurse and
works evening shifts and stays over at her boyfriend's a lot, so I hardly
ever see her.  I suppose I could talk to some of the other women that work
the booths, but I don't really have that much rapport with them....You
know, it's good that I haven't seen you, I think it lets me feel like I can
open up to you more.  I still haven't even told my therapist about my job -
I guess I'm still trying to feel more comfortable around her. And I realize
you're a customer, but I also feel like I can trust you, and that we both
know that we're just having fun - some sort of mutually beneficial
game-playing with each other."
"Yeah, I suppose that's true...."
"Doing this kind of work really has been a little weird for me...To be
honest, sometimes I get kind of paranoid about it.  I mean, I keep asking
myself is this really me?  God, if the nuns from my high school only
knew...."
"Catholic high school, huh?"
"Oh, yeah....And plenty of sin and guilt too. I wish I could let go of it
all.  It was just my frigging luck that my halmoni - my grandmother -
converted to Catholicism when all her friends were becoming Presbyterian or
something....I can't stop myself from being kind of worried about getting
caught and always having a past.  I've even done things like make sure that
our phone is only listed in my roommate's name and I'm not even allowing
the university to give out my number or address just in case somebody
tracked me there.
"And it's just like this whole big identity crisis thing, you know?  I
guess most of the guys who go in think I'm this pretty Asian fantasy boy
toy - which is all right, I guess, since it's such a simple stereotype.  I
mean it can definitely be irritating, but at least I feel completely aware
of it and can play off of it and use it to my advantage.  I just sort of
pose and that's it...But you, sometimes you must think I'm this total
Nympho Slut from Outer Space.  You'd be so shocked if you saw me
normally...."
"No, I don't think so at all.  Why are you worried about that?"
"I guess I'm wondering how you see me...whether you think I'm just some
cheap tramp in the sex industry.  I guess deep down I realize you don't,
but I'm still bothered by it a little bit.  I sort of think well,  you
might think the booth is very nice, but you could never take someone like
me home to meet your mother..."
"Oh, no.  You're definitely someone I can relate to...and hell, would be
*proud* to be with.  I've always gotten the sense of a bright, sexy woman
who is very real and genuine.  Believe me, it's true that I can tell that
you're just playing a fantasy game."  (I wondered if that was partly the
case because I did in fact see her regularly in a completely different
guise.)  "And certainly, talking like this gives me a much better sense of
who you are...And, anyway, what about me?  You'd probably be surprised to
see me in 'daily life,' too."
"No, not really.  Maybe it's just that it's obviously more acceptable for a
man to have a wild private, sexual side and then a straight public image."
She paused for a moment.  She was clearly feeling very pensive.  "Sometimes
I wonder if I'm doing this job mostly because I need to rebel against how
strict my mom and dad were with me and also to thumb my nose at some of my
relatives who are kind of hypocritical, you know?"
"Huh?  What do you mean?"
"Oh, a couple of summers ago, I was back in Seoul staying with my aunt and
they really were kind of mean, giving me a hard time because I speak Korean
like an eight year old and because my boyfriend wasn't Korean.  My family
doesn't have a huge amount of money and I found that one of my cousins is a
prostitute, and it was, like, this big hush hush family secret.  No, make
that a family tragedy.  But the thing was she was the only one who really
was nice to me.  She's a really good woman.  I guess I'm trying to feel
some sort of solidarity with her, as well."
Grace was even more complex than I had thought.  I once again found myself
impressed by the way she was so carefully trying to establish full control
over her own life and be who she wanted to be.
Towards the end of the phone call, she blurted out abruptly. "It's  just
not fair that you get to see me and I never see you.  What do you look
like, anyway?"
I was somewhat surprised given what she had said earlier, but I had
prepared myself for just such a question in the weeks before, since I
figured it might be forthcoming eventually.  "Well, do you really even want
to know?  You were just saying earlier that it made it easier for you to
open up to me.  And doesn't it make it more exciting for you when I visit
you in the booth to be able to attach whatever image you want to me?  Look,
I am considered attractive - honestly - if that's what you want to hear.
How's that?"
She sounded thoughtful.  "Well, I guess you're right....How about just a
little more?"
"Um, brown hair and green eyes."
"That sounds nice.  I love green eyes."
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
I took to analyzing our relationship ever more closely.   I was slipping
into an erotic obsession, and I was afraid that it would get out of hand,
if it hadn't already - I was spending a considerably larger part of my
salary than I cared to admit on being able to meet up with Grace in the
booth.  I wondered too whether at the base of our relationship lay some
sort of power struggle, at least from my side.  I had money, the ability to
see her though she couldn't see me, and - most importantly - the knowledge
of who she "really" was.  But this knowledge was trapping me; it was what
was making her irresistibly attractive as well.  I was able to see her
double life, and although I viewed Grace/Kitty holistically, as I told her,
deep down I could also see that I was falling heavily for the way in which
she was being portrayed to me alternately as virgin and whore.   Being able
to view both sides co-existing within her was tremendously arousing.  And
though I was sure enough that she genuinely liked me, I wasn't deluded
enough to think that there weren't primarily monetary incentives behind it.
The irony of our studying issues like sex, power, economics, and the
engendered gaze in class was hardly lost on me.
There were some other peculiar ironies involved:  I knew her real name, but
she thought she was only telling me a false one.   Conversely, she thought
I was telling her my true name, but she was getting a false one.   In a
sense we were both being very unsafe in this very safe sex we were engaged
in.  In her job, she was running the risk that sooner or later someone -
besides me - would come in that recognized her.  And I was taking a risk
that she would discover that "Mark" was none other than her instructor and
there was no way of knowing what that could lead to, for better or worse.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
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