Chapter 1

Monday May 29

I’m writing this while lying naked on the living room floor of the Atlanta condo that’s going to be my home for the next few months. My boyfriend, whom I had never met before tonight, is asleep in the bedroom. He’s also naked.

Just call me “Lexi Green, undercover whore”! But, you know, not in front of my parents.

I guess I’m not officially a whore yet - undercover or otherwise: we haven’t had sex yet. As far as Paul is concerned, he has hired me to be his girlfriend for the next few months while he does business in an unfamiliar town. That means I’m his arm-candy at social events, a sex partner whenever he’s revved-up, and a supportive listener when he needs to unwind. I assume I’ll end up doing some cooking and laundry, too.

The deeper truth is that I was hired to be a confidential informant for the FBI. The “concierge service” that finds Paul his girls - yeah, there have been others - worked with the FBI to place me with him, so that I can report on the people he does business with. I’ve done a few freelance jobs for a private investigator back home, and he recommended me since I’ve got some experience, I’ve got the college-girl-next-door look, and I’m not married or prude.

I admit that I had stressed myself out thinking Paul would want to have sex as soon as he arrived, but that didn’t happen. It seems he had had an exhausting day traveling. His flight was from Johannesburg and there were many delays. When he finally did arrive home, he asked me to undress and lie with him while he fell asleep, but that took no time at all.

So anyway, here I am trying to calm down. I wish I had some whiskey or wine to drink, but I only arrived at the condo earlier today and the bar wasn’t stocked. I guess I’ll go shopping tomorrow while Paul is at work. I turned twenty-one this month, so this will be my first time buying alcohol.

Wish me luck!

Tuesday May 30

I only got a few words with Paul this morning before he had to go to work, but I sent him off with a kiss and encouraging words, so I’m playing my part. He’s going to be home early in the evening and we’ll have a “date” to get to know each other. I’m relieved that that’s the plan.

I did go shopping. This condo is in a weird planned community that’s laid out like a college campus: there are shops, restaurants, housing, and office buildings, all on the same grounds full of grassy walkways. I guess the idea is to have everything you need most days all within walking distance. Kinda neat.

So I bought the groceries a couple buildings down and enjoyed a walk in the lovely summer sun. I don’t have enough to cook any proper meals, but we’ll be good for snacks, sandwiches and beverages for a day or two, while I figure out what Paul likes. The concierge agency gave me a credit card for ordinary expenses, so it doesn’t come out of my pocket.

Regular grocery stores aren’t allowed to sell hard liquor here, so I’ll have to make a trip off campus later today. I called Penny, my contact at the agency, to approve the purchase and to ask if she knew what Paul likes. She said he mostly drinks beer, but sometimes likes whiskey sours. She says I should get a good selection, though, because we’ll probably be entertaining at the condo eventually.

Penny is a woman in her early thirties. I’m supposed to call her to approve unusual charges, but also for questions about how to behave and what Paul likes. She took me clothes shopping when I first arrived two days ago: OMG, so many silk panties! - and she keeps talking about doing things to “encourage the fantasy”, like walking around wearing a towel after a shower for an unnecessarily long time. I’m guessing that she was an “escort” when she was younger like I’m pretending to be now. She’s still amazingly beautiful and stylish, so she probably could still do it. I’ll have to ask her some time once we’re more comfortable with each other.

So my plan for the rest of the day is to take an Uber to a “package” store - that’s what they call liquor stores here - to buy a bunch of booze. After that I guess I’ll work on my programming project until Paul gets home. After that? Who knows.

Okay, well, it’s 11:30 now and Paul is asleep. We did it.

He didn’t get home before dinner like he had said he would. At like 7:45 he texted and said he’d be late, and that I shouldn’t wait for him for dinner.

He got home at about 10:00. He was clearly tired, but we sat for a while on the couch talking. It was pretty much just meaningless small talk. I gather he was doing it for my benefit. I made sure to sit close to him and touch his arm in a familiar way like a devoted girlfriend should.

Then, after a few minutes, he said, “Let’s go to bed,” and there was no doubt in my mind what he meant by that.

So then we were in the bedroom, and he took off my clothes. That part was important to him - I could tell from the look on his face as he undid the buttons on my blouse and skirt. But then he didn’t spend much time on my bra or panties, which struck me as strange since they’re so fancy. Once I was completely nude he sort of spun me onto the bed, like a dance move, and then took off his own clothes.

Paul is a pretty decent looking dude, for middle-aged. Curly black hair, kind of a big nose, high cheek bones. Fit. And he’s polite.

We made out on the bed for a while. Half of me was into it. I knew that I had a role to play. I spent a few months as a waitress, so I know about customer service: I know how to make forced enthusiasm look natural. But half of my brain couldn’t believe that I had actually put myself in this position. The first time he reached between my legs, I literally thought, “I barely know him.”

Still, my body responded to his encouragement - and his certainly did to mine - so before too long, he propped me up on my hands and knees. Despite knowing exactly what was going to happen, I was surprised when I felt him enter me. His hands on my hips felt good. His dick in my pussy felt good. His hips smacking my ass felt good. But it was just so surreal.

Paul starting moaning right away while we did it, which I guess clued me about how quickly it was going to go. “Oh, you’re so beautiful,” he said once. I wondered how long it had been since he’d been with a woman - but it’s not like I could ask.

I made sure I started moaning too. It wasn’t a lie. I just usually don’t moan until I’m further along. But I was having enjoyable sex, and it was important that he knew that. I muttered, “Oh, Paul,” a few times, too.

After probably three minutes Paul’s moans took on some urgency. He was obviously going to come very soon. And I guess some animal part of my brain started to congratulate itself or something: You know, “Mission accomplished - you will now receive semen in your womb from a strong healthy man.” But to my surprise, he pulled out at the last second, and came on my back.

At first I didn’t know what to do. Had I done something wrong? Should I get up? How do I move without spilling his come onto the bed? I kinda froze.