Going to a Ball, part one

The call comes at a really bad time. It's Thursday evening, around six o'clock or so. The phone rings just as LaTisha is slowly running her tongue up the underside of my shaft.1

My first impulse is of course to just let it ring. But this is my work phone ringing, and nobody has the number except Hot Jinx. As my first gig didn't go too well, it probably wouldn't take much more for me to lose the job. Crap on a stick, I have to pick it up.2

"Baby, I... I gotta take that call. It's work." This is me, interrupting a blowjob, and I hate myself for doing it.3

"Fuck work," she spits out before plunging my member deep into her warm, welcoming mouth. A flick of her tongue sends shivers through my entire body.4

I feel something within me die as I pull away from LaTisha. Ignoring her quite vocal protests, I retrieve the matte black phone from the rumpled heap of clothes on the floor and flick open the cover.5

"Where are you?" she starts before I can say anything.6

"I'm at my girlfriend's... Err, lower Pendleton, boss." I try to ignore LaTisha correcting me "Ex-girlfriend!"7

"There's a car park over by Pendleton Square. Haul your ass over there, third sublevel."8

"Okay, boss." She hangs up. I get dressed and walk out, trying to ignore my naked newly-ex girlfriend screaming obscenities at me. I need this job, I keep telling myself. I need this job. I need this job.9

The level of the car park is mostly vacant as I park my jalopy. The boss doesn't seem to be here yet, so there's time for me to try and recompose myself. When her car finally rolls down the ramp and pulls up next to mine, I'm calm and collected, though I still keep my shades on as I get out of the car to meet her.10

She's wearing a rather weird top, that appears to consist of a single long band of citron cloth wrapped tight around her torso, arms and even hands, giving decent coverage but leaving bare seemingly random spots of skin. Her legs are covered more conventionally in black tights, with a pair of simple sandals on her feet. Her hair is slicked back, which in combination with the chest-flattening wrap makes her appear somewhat androgynous, yet even in the lifeless yellowish light of the lifeless concrete car park, I find her alluring.11

"I have some clothes in the back seat. Put them on." she says, without as much as a greeting. "I hope you know how to behave yourself. You'll be going to a ball."12

I mumble a vague assurance about my manners as I walk over and open the back door of her sedan. The "some clothes" turn out to be a full set of formal evening dress, complete with a white bow tie. Crap au lait. Apparently the occasion I'm supposed to attend is rather posh, quite possibly more so than anything I've ever been to. I've never worn an attire like this, and even though dad always took care to teach me to mind my manners, he never covered courtly etiquette. Then again, how hard can it be?13

She doesn't bother to turn her back or anything as I start to change. In two days of active work, this is now going to be the third time my boss sees my wiener. Perhaps I should start wearing underpants.14

"So what was your girlfriend screaming her head off about?" she asks as I'm changing.15

"What? Oh, LaTisha... Well, we were sort of having some 'us-time' and she didn't appreciate me taking a work call."16

"Us-time?"17

"Sex."18

"Oh." This shuts her up for a while, and I get to fully concentrate on struggling with the intricacies of the unfamiliar dress. How the hell is one supposed to wear this thing? Crap of craps. No wonder this stuff has fallen out of fashion...19

I'm not sure how long I've fumbled with the vestments when she finally asks if I need help with them. Defeated, I accept the offer. I feel like a damn baby, grownups aren't supposed to need help putting their clothes on.20

With her help, I finally get into the ensemble, and she produces from somewhere a couple more items, a black silk cowl and a white full-face mask with ornaments that look a bit like Mandelbrot fractals in gold and bright red.21

"It's going to be a masked ball, so wear these. Keep them on at all times, as well as your gloves. If you bleed, make sure someone bleeds with you. And here's your invitation, it should get you in. I trust you still have money on the cred chip?" I nod. "Yeah, there's about three thousand left, but won't paying with the chip make the mask pretty pointless? They do get my info off the chip."22

"No, you won't need the chip at the actual location, it's just to pay for a taxi."23

"Okay. So what is it that I'm supposed to do at the party? Just socialize and have a good time?"24

"Cut the cheek, it doesn't suit you. But as to what you're supposed to do, I need you to open a window on the third floor, at the back of the house. It doesn't matter which, any of the west-facing windows at the back of the house, on third floor will do. Preferably, you should try to achieve this without drawing any attention to yourself and optimally when nobody's looking, but failing that, just get one open by any means you see fit. Understood?"25

It was.