Monday, April 6, 2009

Masks

"This," thought Taylor Stuart as she
dropped exhausted into the empty salon chair and
ran a hand through her long waist length hair.
"Has got to have been the worst day of my life."
Sitting back with her eyes closed, the
twenty four-year-old brunette reviewed the events
that caused her to make such a declaration. Her
first disaster of the day had actually started the
night before with the sudden arrival of her
sometimes lover, George Williams, at her
apartment.
The relationship between the two was
based largely on sex and little else. George had a
cock that looked like it should be in a porn film
and was, at least in Taylor's opinion, one hell of a
fuck. At first she had been a little annoyed at his
showing up so unexpectedly at her door.
Then George had started to turn on the
charm. Coupled with the lucky absence of her
roommate Donna, who had a family emergency
and had to spend the night at her parents, one
thing had led to another. Before long they were
rocking the sheets like a couple of rabbits.
After a night of boisterous lovemaking,
they started an encore presentation early this
morning. Taylor had her face buried in a pillow as
George plowed his cock into her. He was just
about to come when he called out her name.
Unfortunately, he only thought it was her name.
"God, Donna," he'd yelled, "you are so
fucking tight!"
Needless to say, Taylor lost all sexual
interest when she heard her roommate's name. In
the hour they had argued after that, she'd learned
that George had actually come over to get it on
with Donna, and had settled for Taylor when he
found she wasn't there. Worse yet, the fight had
made her late for her job at the Salon.

Her second conflict of the day was with
Anna Mugavero, the fifty-two year old owner of
the Beauty Salon. This was the third time Taylor
had been late this month and Anna spent fifteen
long minutes pointing out that if it happened a
fourth time, she might as well stay in bed for
good.
Taylor suffered in silence as Anna dressed
her down in front of everyone else in the shop.
She knew that it wasn't just her being late that had
set the older woman off. Karen and Sonny, two
of the other girls had worse records than she did
and didn't have to put up with half this crap. No,
Anna had it in for her for a far different reason.
The previous December, the Merchants
Association had sponsored a grand Christmas and
New Years Party at Roselli's Catering Hall.
Every business in the area had contributed to the
party and it had been full of good food, good
music, and really great booze. Sometime about
eleven, when the party was really rocking, Taylor
had gone looking for the ladies room.
After two wrong turns, Taylor thought
she'd found the right door. Unfortunately, it had
been Roselli's private office instead. Even more
unfortunate was the fact that it wasn't empty.
There, kneeling on the carpeted floor, was a very
drunk and semi-naked Anna Mugavero. She was
in the process of blowing the 69 year old Tony
Roselli.
Giddy as she was, Taylor had taken one
look at Roselli's cock sliding in and out of Anna's
mouth and burst out laughing. In her intoxicated
state she couldn't stop giggling, no matter how
hard she tried.
The next morning, despite a first class
hangover, she had gone over to Anna's apartment
to apologize. Considering the things she had done
drunk, Anna blowing the old man was kid stuff.
Besdies, it was only the surprise of having walked
in on them that had set her off. For an older man,
Mr. Roselli was in pretty good shape. And as for
Anna, well she did run a beauty salon and knew
how to always bring out her best. She'd seem
couples doing it before, and it wasn't if she'd run
off and told Mrs. Roselli that Anna was sucking
off her husband.
But Anna wanted no part of any apology,
no matter how contrite it might have been. Since
that night, neither of them had ever mentioned the
incident again. Yet Anna never let an opportunity
pass to embarrass her as she felt she had been
embarrassed.

Problems three and four came in the
persons of Mrs. Elizabeth Katts and Miss Evelyn
Donacello, two of the Salon's oldest and most
demanding clients. Anna Mugavero took a
perverse delight in always assigning them to
Taylor. Even individually, either woman was
enough to try even a Saint's patience. Today,
both of them had more than earned their
reputations.
It was only after lunch that Taylor thought
her day might be changing for the better. She
smiled when she saw the name Kathleen Foster in
the appointment book. Kathleen was her favorite
client, the antitheses of the two women she had to
deal with in the morning. Many times Anna had
tried to assign Kathleen to one of the other girls,
but the twenty-six year old businesswoman would
hear nothing of it. It was that way with a lot of
Taylor's clients and the reason Anna kept Taylor
on despite their mutual antagonism.
Taylor loved working on Kathleen for two
reasons. Kathleen was exactly the type of woman
Taylor wished she could be more like. Confident,
dynamic, successful, all the things she didn't see in
herself. Despite all of that and the difference in
their backgrounds, Kathleen never looked down at
Taylor as some of the other clients did.
If you put the two women side by side,
they shared a certain physical similarity as well.
Both were brunettes of similar shades and stood
five seven. Even their measurements came close,
with Taylor having a slightly larger bust.
Taylor and Kathleen chatted while she
worked on her hair. Kathleen told Taylor that she
was going to a big Halloween Ball tomorrow
night and wanted to look her best. Taylor
remarked that she was going to a costume party
herself, but she was sure the people at the two
parties would be quite different.
Kathleen replied with a knowing smile.
The sort of grin that said Taylor couldn't image
how true her remark really was.
"I'd invite you to my party but I'm not
sure you would..." Kathleen started to say, then
suddenly gasped for air.
It was that moment that all hell broke
loose. Kathleen suddenly turned pale and started
to shake uncontrollably. It was immediately
obvious to Taylor that her client was having a
seizure. A woman in the next chair screamed in
shock, an action repeated by several others,
including Anna Mugavero. Panic, as always, was
contagious.
Or so it seemed. Taylor, however, kept
her cool. Back in high school, the beautician had
entertained the idea of becoming a nurse for half a
semester. She went so far as doing some
volunteer work at the local hospital. Work that
involved taking some basic emergency aid
courses. In a flash, all of those old lessons came
back to her.
"Call for an ambulance!" Taylor called out
as she reacted to the crisis and made sure that
Kathleen didn't choke. "Don't just stand there
you stupid bitch!" she yelled at Anna when she
saw her just standing there, paralyzed with fear.
"Call the paramedics!"
Finally spurred by Taylor's words, Anna
reached for the phone. Thankfully, Saint Mary's
Hospital was only ten blocks away and help
arrived in minutes. As they carried Kathleen
away, Taylor could feel Anna's eyes burning into
her back. She was sure she could kiss this job
goodbye after her outburst.

"I'm going to overlook your impertinence
this time," Anna said, ignoring the fact that it was
only Taylor's quick action that had helped
Kathleen. "Seeing as it was an emergency and so
many people were panicking. But I still expect
you to stay tonight and clean up, make up that lost
time from this morning."
Taylor replied with a nod, afraid if she
opened her mouth she would say something that
Anna wouldn't like. When she thought about ,
Taylor realized that Anna wouldn't let her foil go
so easily. Silently however, she resolved to find
the courage to make some changes in her life.
Beginning with finding a better place to work.

Later in the day, before she started to
clean up, Taylor called the hospital to check on
Kathleen's condition. Normally they wouldn't
give out such information to a stranger on the
phone. But when she explained to the Nurse that
she had been the one to give first aid to the
stricken woman, the Nurse felt a little more
sympathetic. She told her that Kathleen was
doing fine, but that they were going to keep her
over the weekend for observation. That pleased
Taylor. Anna hadn't even bothered to call before
she went home.

Opening her eyes, Taylor happened to spot
a silver and gold envelope sticking out from under
one of the cabinets. Curious, she bent down and
picked it up. To her surprise, the name of
Kathleen Foster was on the envelope.
"This must've fell out of her purse when it
was knocked off the counter." Taylor thought as
she wondered what was in it. "Only one way to
find out." she added.

It turned out to be the invitation to the
Halloween Ball Kathleen had been talking about.
The Ball was being given by something called the
Sean McMurphy Memorial Fund. Taylor had
never heard of before. She had, however, heard
of the Grand Astoria Hotel, which the invitation
showed as the site of the Ball. Only last week,
Taylor had read an article about the multi-million
dollar restoration of the old hotel and how it was
going to have a big Grand Re-Opening next
month. Evidently, it seemed that this Sean
McMurphy Fund was able to book the entire
Hotel for their Ball before that.
"The ticket for the Ball even comes with a
room," Taylor noted as she read the rest of the
papers in the envelope.
It seemed Kathleen had been nominated
for membership in some sort of professional
society and as part of that nomination, the society
was picking up the tab for the entire weekend at
the Grand Astoria.
"Just think of all those people at the Grand
Astoria," Taylor said to the empty salon.
"Enjoying shrimp and champagne while I eat
cheese doodles and Pepsi at Monica's party. I bet
there's a lot better class of men at that party too.
At least ones who wouldn't be trying to grope her
ass after a few beers."
Putting all the papers back in the envelope,
Taylor thought it was a shame that Kathleen was
going to miss the Ball. She imagined again all the
professional men that must attend functions like
that and tried to remember Kathleen ever
mentioning a boyfriend or anything. Or was she,
Taylor wondered, one of those women so
wrapped up in their careers that they had no time
for romance.
"Look at me criticizing someone else's
love life." Taylor went on, "Like I've had such
great luck with men."
Looking up at the clock on the wall,
Taylor decided she'd put in as much extra time as
she needed to make up for being late this morning.
She'd half expected that bitch Anna to call from
home to make sure she was still here. Tossing the
gold envelope into one of the wastebaskets, the
twenty-four year out headed for the door and
home.
"Too bad I couldn't change places with
Kathleen for the night," she mused as she pushed
the invitation from her mind. "It'll probably be a
hell of a party."

Taylor had locked the door behind her and
was halfway down the street when she paused. A
fantastic thought filled her mind.
"Why couldn't I?" she thought. "Why
couldn't I go in Kathleen's place? After all, it's a
Halloween Ball. Everyone's going to be in a
costume. And it's not like she paid for the tickets,
so I wouldn't be stealing or anything like that."
As quick as Taylor tried to think of new
justifications for acting on this crazy impulse,
another voice inside of her responded with
reasons what she shouldn't. It finally came down
to the memory of Anna's shrill voice and how she
treated her like trash. If she was going to make
some changes in her life, maybe a little adventure
was as good a place to start as any.
With a smile on her face and a new
determination in her heart, Taylor spun on her
heels and went back to the Salon. Two minutes
later she was again walking down the same street,
this time with the coveted invitation in her hand.

* * * * * * *

"Good afternoon, may I help you?" the
pretty young Asian woman behind the counter,
whose nametag identified as Mei-Ling, looked up
and asked.
Taylor took a deep breath before
answering. What seemed like a good idea only
last night, now seemed like insanity in the light of
day. It had taken her over a half-hour of debate
within herself to even step into the hotel, much
less approach the check in counter. Right now,
part of her wanted to just turn and run.
She had spent a good part of the morning
trying to decide how a young businesswoman
would dress when going to a hotel. Finally she
decided a simple blue print would be okay.
"I'm ... Kathleen Foster..." she said in a
low hesitant voice, as if afraid that bells and
alarms were about to go off. "I have a
reservation."
The pretty girl, who Taylor thought
couldn't have been more than eighteen, smiled
once more and typed Kathleen Foster into her
computer. It was only a moment before the
confirmation came up on the screen, but to Taylor
it seemed like an eternity.
"Here we go," Mei-Ling said. "Room 314
in the west wing. A very nice room. If you'll just
fill out this registration card, I'll have one of our
bellhops help you with your bag."
As Taylor filled out the small card, careful
to fill in the information for Kathleen Foster, she
didn't notice one of the two bellhops who had
been stand a dozen feet away, respond to
Mei-Lings summons. If she had, she might have
found it surprising that they were both young
women as well.
"I can handle my bag," Taylor said
automatically, "It's just the one."
""Very good," the Asian woman said as
Taylor handed back the card. "Now I just need
your credit card to make an imprint and you'll be
on your way."
"My credit card..?" Taylor asked in terror,
a sudden chill flashing through her.
"Is there a problem?" Mei-Ling asked.
"I thought, what I mean is..." Taylor
started to say as she tried to think of a reason why
she wouldn't have a card.
She was about to make a show of looking
for her wallet in her purse and then saying she
must have forgot it at home. If nothing else, she
would then leave and never come back.
"That won't be necessary, Mei-Ling."
said another voice from behind Taylor.
The brunette turned to see a tall, dark
skilled woman with very short curly black hair
standing next to her. She was wearing a navy blue
jacket, white shirt and matching skirt. Taylor
guessed that she was in her early thirties.
"Ms. Foster is one of our new nominees,"
the black woman said. "The Foundation is taking
care of all of her expenses."
"Of course," Mei-Ling replied as she
typed in the proper code on the registration.
"Welcome to the Grand Astoria, Ms. Foster." she
beamed as she handed Taylor an electronic key to
her room. Enjoy your stay."
"Thank you." Taylor said in a relief filled
voice.
"Are you okay?" the woman in blue
asked. "You seem a little flushed."
"Just the excitement, thats all." Taylor
quickly covered.
"Of course." came the reply. "I'm Sanura
Jackson, head of the Foundation's Membership
Committee."
"Nice to meet you." Taylor said as she
reached out to meet Sanura's outstretched hand.
The smile on her face was genuine. If the
head of the membership committee didn't spot her
as a fake, then she was home free.
"Do you also work here at the hotel?"
Taylor asked, trying to make conversation.
"Me? Oh no. In real life I'm a specialist
in corporate security. I did almost ten years with
the government, then opened my own business."
"I'm sorry, I though when I saw you and
the girl at the counter wearing the same pin
that..."
"This pin?" Sanura asked, a touch of
confusion in her voice as she indicated the gold
pin on her lapel. "You must've seem one of the
Foundation's pins before?"
"Of course, where is my head this
afternoon?" Taylor asked herself. "It just looked
a little different in this light, that's all."
Sanura seemed to accept that answer, or
so Taylor hoped.
"Actually none of the people here are hotel
staff." Sanura went on. "We prefer to use our
own Foundation volunteers when we have
functions like this. It tends to keep things more
private."
"I understand." Taylor answered, as if she
had the slightest idea what Sanura was talking
about.
"Actually it was McMurphy Industries that
bought and renovated the hotel. And since
Scarlett still heads the Board of Directors, there
was no problem with us borrowing it for the Ball."
Taylor continued to agree, wondering if
she was supposed to know who Scarlett was.
"It's too bad she's stuck in the Caribbean
by that storm. She usually never misses one of the
Foundation's bashes. I hope I'm that active when
I get to be her age."
Letting out a secret sigh of relief when
they got to the elevators, Taylor hoped Sanura
didn't insist on seeing her up to her room as well.
Thankfully the taller woman stopped short of that.
"Well thanks for your help." Taylor said.
"Not really much in the way of help, but
you're welcome." Sanura replied. "Maybe later,
after you've settled in, we can have a drink or
something. I'd like to get to know you a little
better."
"I'd like that." Taylor answered to be
polite, hoping that she didn't run into Sanura
again before the Ball.
As the elevator doors closed between
them, Taylor noted that Sanura seemed to be very
pleased with her reply.
"I never thought someone into security
would be that friendly with people." she mused as
the indicator light turned into a three. "Guess it
takes all kinds."


Once in her room, Taylor decided to take
a little nap. The Costume Ball didn't start until
eight. That gave her more than a few hours to
kill. Stripping down to her underwear, she noted
that the room she had been given was a lot better
than her apartment. She didn't want to even think
about what it would normally cost per night.
She undid her bra, dropping it onto the
floor. Strong fingers massaged her rounded
breasts, bringing back the sensation she sometimes
lost when her bra was too tight. Mentally she
made a note to buy some new ones, but knew that
there was always more demand on her paycheck
than she could afford.
"Enough of that." she laughed as she
dropped on the still made bed. "I'll worry about
everything else on Monday. This weekend is for
having fun."
Stretched out semi-nude on the bed, she
closed her eyes and drifted off to sleep. In her
dreams she could imagine that this life was hers
for real.


"Oh God, it can't be morning already."
Taylor groaned as she rolled over on the soft bed
toward the ringing sound that had disturbed her
slumber.
It took a few seconds for her to grasp that
it was the phone and not her alarm clock that was
ringing. The realization that this wasn't her
apartment a brief moment later snapped her fully
awake.
"Hello..?" she said into the receiver as she
lifted the phone.
"Good Evening, Ms. Foster." said a
lyrical voice over the phone. "You asked for a
reminder call at six forty five."
"Oh yes, I did, didn't I? she remembered.
"Thank you very much."
With renewed energy, she bounced off the
bed. The nap had been a great idea. Now she felt
like she could go all night.
"Well as I'm sure Cinderella once said,"
she laughed. "It's off to the Ball I go."

Taylor closed her eyes as she stepped into
the shower and warm water splashed against her
skin. It felt great after her nap. She was as excited
as could be about her little adventure. There was
such a forbidden nature about it all.
Running her hands down her soapy body,
down between her legs, Taylor discovered she
was aroused. Normally she didn't get that way
again until a few days after she and George had
one of their marathon screwing sessions. Yet as
she played her fingers over her body, she suddenly
felt as horny as if she'd been celibate for a month.
"Must be the new me." she laughed to
herself. "Hope I find a cute guy tonight to take
care of my itch. But just in case..."
Taylor again stroked her breasts, bringing
her pert nipples to a familiar hardness. As always,
her touch felt so good. Soapy hands glided down
across her slim stomach, finding their way to the
light brown bush below. She continued down
between her legs and then around to the cheeks of
her ass, leaving a soap trail of bubbles in her
wake.
Taylor let out a soft sigh as her fingers
rubbed against her mound. Running her other
hand across her firm breasts once again, she gave
them a playful squeeze.
With a practiced hand that began to learn
it's skill when she'd first masturbated at 13,
Taylor parted her vaginal lips, quickly finding the
prize within. Closing her eyes, she leaned back
against the wall and began to rub herself.
"Oh yes." she purred as a familiar tingle
spread out from her cunt. "That feels nice."
She slid a finger up within herself,
followed by a second and a third. It was a poor
substitute for a hard cock, but it would have to
do.
It wasn't long before she was furiously
pumping her fingers in and out, stoking the tiny
flame between her legs into a roaring fire.
The warm water had turned to hot, filling
the bathroom with steam. The heat of which
paled to that radiating across her quaking body as
her fingers caressed her love canal in an orgasmic
frenzy.
With water running down her face, her lips
let go a quiet sigh. Taylor felt her legs and arms
go weak as repeated waves of delight rippled up
and down her naked form.
Long silent moments, broken only by the
splatter of the shower drops, passed as the
brunette rested against the now warm tile. The
water washing away the traces of her climax.
"Oh that felt good." Taylor said as she
filled her hands with water and splashed it across
her face.

Wrapped only in a towel, she stepped back
into the room. Taylor opened her bag and laid out
the costume she had brought with her. It was the
outfit she had originally planned to wear to
Monica's party. Not for the first time, she
wondered if perhaps it was a little too daring for
an upscale party like this one.
"What the hell," she concluded. "It's too
late to get a new one now."
Undoing her towel and tossing it on the
bed, Taylor changed into her third identity of the
day.
The costume, what little there was of it,
was a bright flaming red. Appropriate enough
considering who she was supposed to be. The
hem of her skirt ended less than six inches below
her crotch, showing an amount of skin only
exceeded by the amount of cleavage a very
plunging neckline exposed. The thin material
clung tightly against her braless breasts, holding
them in place and at the same time, displaying all
their charms. You didn't have to get too close to
see the outline of her nipples pressed against the
fabric. Hanging from beneath her skirt was a
short, forked tail. On her forehead, held in place
by spirit gum, were two small horns.
"You little devil you." Taylor laughed as
she looked at herself in the full-length mirror on
the back of the door.
As a final touch, she pressed a small
raccoon type red mask against her face. That and
a small pitchfork completed the ensemble.
Turning around to check her rear
reflection, Taylor saw that any onlooker would
have little trouble telling that she had left her
panties behind with her bra.
"Might as well live the part," she laughed.
"What's the worst they can do to me, ask me to
leave?"
She walked out into the hall and called for
people already there to hold the elevator. The
doors of which were already closing.


"Thanks," Taylor said to the woman in
the 1920's flapper outfit who had held the door
for her.
"No problem." came her reply.
"Nice costume." Taylor said.
"Yours too." the flapper said, taking the
time to really take in what Taylor was wearing, or
what she wasn't wearing.
Turning to the other woman behind them,
Taylor no longer worried about any improprieties
of dress. It was impossible not to stare at the
well-endowed redhead. She was going to the
party as Eve, a costume Taylor remembered
Debbie Thomas wearing last year. Unlike Debbie,
this woman wasn't wearing a bodystocking. In
fact, aside from a smile, all she was wearing was a
g-string shaped like a fig leaf.
"This party is going to be more interesting
than I thought." Taylor concluded.

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