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When I met Allison in the lobby of Spooky's office building, she was wearing a smart linen dress that showed off her legs somewhat, sporting a pair of new Gucci sandals and carrying a gym bag. I guessed that she had a different outfit in the gym bag so she could "dress down" when she returned to Janelle's apartment later on.

Alone in the elevator, we plotted Spooky's session. "Listen, this guy has a huge mirror right next to his couch," I warned her. "We might not be able to fake it." When I see Spooky on my own, it's easy to avoid the mirror -- all the action occurs at his desk. But, with two girls on the job, I fully expect to use the couch. Sexy mirrors are the bane of my working existence -- the mirror in my bedroom is tucked off in the corner so johns won't see what I'm up to.

When we arrived, Spooky was pacing and talking to the speaker phone at the same time. He put his call on hold and greeted us with a friendly wave of the coke vial. Allie almost went for it, but I gave her a sharp tug and a flinty look, leading her toward the couch. Just what I need, Allison coked up!

"I'm almost finished with this call," he said, as Allison began to unbutton my blouse. "I'll watch."

He picked up the receiver and settled in at his desk, trying to take notes while he gazed at us. I slowly lifted Allison's dress, gave him a flash of her panties, then slid the panties down her thighs.

"That's good," Spooky said into the phone. "First things first," he added, giving me a wink.

Allison wriggled out of her dress and was now unzipping my skirt. In her heels and her bra, she walked past his desk, and carefully placed our clothes on a chair so they wouldn't get creased. To distract him from Allison's meticulous operation, I reclined on the couch and began fingering myself.

Spooky tried to continue his conversation. "Yeah, but the problem," he was saying into the phone, "no, I'm serious -- we have a problem here ... hang on a sec." He muted the call again. "God, you're hot ... I won't be much longer with this guy." Allison sank to her knees with her face between my thighs. "Why don't you do that to her at the same time?" he suggested.

Spooky went back to his call, while Allie and I reconfigured ourselves on the couch. "That's not part of the deal!" he told his caller. "But if they want it ... you should bring it up. It can't come from me. I'm having a hell of an afternoon -- I'll call you when this meeting's over."

Later, I offered to drop Allie off at Liane's apartment -- and was harangued, in the cab, about Jasmine's infiltration of "the rooms."

"She's poisoning the rooms with her predatory greed!" Allison declared. "You have to stop her!"

"The rooms" is what they call that motley assortment of church basements where Allison's fellow addicts gather to swap stories.

Allison's phone burbled, distracting her. "Hello? No -- yes -- I can't. Well, I -- What do you mean? Why?" Her call ended abruptly and she frowned at the phone, worried.

"What's wrong?" I asked.

"That was Janelle," she said in a nervous voice. "She wants to talk to me -- now -- in person -- but I have a date at Liane's. The guy's waiting there for me! Janelle sounded weird -- really upset." Her eyes began to fill with tears and I sensed her frustration. "What should I do?"
salon.com | Oct. 7, 1999

Episode 26 Amateur by the hour

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