Note: This story was dynamically reformatted for online reading convenience.
 
 It was several days later, now, and Steve and Karen sat across a table from
each other at a restaurant, discussing the weeks events, and connecting in
the ways that busy people need to in those rare times they have time alone.
Steve could tell that Karen was distracted by something, but couldn't guess
what it was.

   As conversation continued and their meals were served, another couple
was seated in the booth behind Steve, and neither Karen nor Steve paid them
much notice.  Steve continued his conversation and Karen looked up, and
past her husband at the man in the booth behind him, who was smiling
directly at her.  He was a black man in his mid forties, short hair with a
wisp of gray.  He obviously recognized Karen, and Karen recognized him.

   The man was a regular at the whorehouse Karen worked in.  He was there
every other Thursday and from the way he talked other nights as well.  The
man's name was David, as Karen remembered it, but the man was extremely
dominant and wanted to be addressed by the women in the house simply as
-~Master.'

   Karen and David only broke their gaze as Steve and the man's wife turned
to see what their spouses were staring at.  The eyes of David's wife and
Karen's husband met briefly, and then the turn away, near simultaneously
saying, "Do you know that person/her?"

   Karen stammered something about the man looking familiar.  Steve
accepted her excuse, and his suspicions were not aroused when Karen left
for the ladies room.  He didn't notice when the man at the next table also
excused himself.

   Karen was headed for the ladies room, trying to clear her head, trying
to make sense of what was going on.  Never before had she been made outside
the whorehouse.  She had always felt some safety in her distance from her
secret job, but now here was a customer, in her own hometown.

   A large hand grabbed her arm and strongly redirected her from the ladies
room into the mens room.  She didn't have to look to know that it was
David, or "Master."

   "Katja, how nice to see you." He said, as he locked the men's room door
behind him.

   "David.  This is wrong.  We're not at the house, this is outside, and
I'm with my husband."

   "That's your husband?  I'd have never guessed you were married to a guy
like him.  We guys think all you girls in the house are like rock stars,
living porn star lives.  No one thinks you're just average women out for a
little freaky fun."

   Karen moved for the door.  "Now you know.  I have to get back."

   "Whoa, Katya, or should I say Karen?  What's the rush?  We know each
other pretty well, what say you do me a little favor?" And with that, David
pulled down the zipper of his pants.

   -~I don't know what you think I am, but at the club, I get paid."

   "Then you're a whore, and I'll pay you." David pulled out his wallet,
and started pulling out bills.  "Two hundred oughta' do it."

   "Wait, no --" said Karen.

   "Three hundred then." He held out the bills.  Karen looked at the money,
and thought about it.  It wasn't anything she hadn't done, with him,
before.

   "Four hundred." She said.

   "Done.  But call me -~Master.'"

   Karen sank to her knees in the men's room, and reached inside David's
pants, pulling out his rapidly stiffening, fat cock.

   "Please Master, may I suck your cock?" she said, with practiced ease. 
She had performed this service at the club for him a dozen times.  He like
being called -~Master' because he felt it was the least white woman could
do to make up for all the years of slavery his people endured.

   Karen didn't care what he wanted to be called, she just loved the sex
and the money.  She licked and sucked the man's cock, teasing some precum
from him, as he grabbed her head and directed her movements in the way it
would please him most.

   Soon he had a rhythm going, and was simply fucking her face, using her
as a masturbatory aid, and making her make "guk-guk" noises as he humped
her.  Then he pushed forward, and his cock throbbed and cum spewed into her
mouth, great white spurts of creamy cum coating her tongue and sliding down
her throat.

   Karen swallowed as David zipped up.  He was smiling, but Karen was
worried about her husband.  She had lost all track of time, how long had
she been in here?

   She climbed to her feet and made her way out of the men's room.  Steve
was coming over.

   "I was just coming to look for you.  Everything okay?" said Steve.

   "I'm fine." Replied Karen.

   "Okay.  I paid the bill, I just need to go to the bathroom."

   Steve pushed by his wife, who could think of no way to prevent her
husband from entering the same men's room as the one she had just left
after blowing a strange black man for money.

   As Karen fretted in the lobby, Steve approached the urinal.  At the sink
was the man Steve vaguely recognized as the man from the next table,
washing his hands.  The man smiled at Steve, and Steve looked away.  Hard
enough to pee without people trying to get friendly.

   Steve finished his business, and as he began washing his hands, the man
at the sink began to speak.

   "You should have been here five minutes ago, man."

   "Oh yeah?" Said Steve, trying to finish quick.

   "Yeah.  I just had a whore come in here and blow me, right where you're
standing."

   Steve dried his hands, and tried to quickly be finished.  "That's
great."

   "Bitch sucked me off and swallowed.  You'd like her.  Maybe I could
introduce you."

   "Thanks, man," said Steve, showing the man his wedding band, "but I'm
married."

   As the man laughed, Steve left.  What the man was laughing about was
anyone's guess, but as he met Karen in the lobby of the restaurant and
kissed her, he had already forgotten the weird guy in the bathroom.  Karen
though, couldn't.