THE MEASURE OF MAN

An Epic by Gil Gamesh

Chapter Nineteen

As for you, Gilgamesh, fill your belly with good things; day and night, night and day, dance and be merry, feast and rejoice. Let your clothes be fresh, bathe yourself in water, cherish the little child that holds your hand, and make your wife happy in your embrace; for this too is the measure of man.

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CAST OF CHARACTERS:

Kieran Stuart, 36 in story, 23-24 in flashback; Siobhan Stuart, 35 in story; Kavan Stuart, 10; Arial Stuart, 8; Kerry Stuart, 4

Claire DeLand, 40 + in flashback; Beth ______, 39 in flashback 
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TELLING THE STORY:
Kieran Stuart

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(KIERAN)

“Arial was talking to me this afternoon about Luke and Rachael,” Siobhan said. “Since she saw them making love at the cabin, she’s full of questions about sex.”

We were together in our bedroom, getting ready for bed. I had taken my turn in making the rounds to give the kids their nightly hugs and kisses before they went to sleep. I left Kavan reading a book about wizards that he’d checked out from the library. Kerry shared the room with Kavan and some nights he crawled in bed with him so Kavan could read to him. Tonight he seemed tired and subdued and shut his eyes as soon as I pulled his blanket over him. Arial grabbed a book as I left and I reminded her of lights-out time. She sometimes forgot and we’d find the light on in her room and she’d be asleep with a book on her bed.

“You’re giving her honest answers, aren’t you?” I asked. “We agreed we’d always try to be that way, you know. I’m doing my best with Kavan.”

“I’m doing my best too. I guess she knows the basics of how it’s done. I just don’t know how to answer when she asks me how it feels to have your dick in my pussy.”

“Sheesh, I couldn’t answer that. I don’t think there’s any way we can tell them how it feels. That’s one they’ll just have to find out for themselves, isn’t it?”

“She asked me again if we’d let her and Kavan watch us do it.”

I looked at her and she had a big grin on her face.

“That’s the way she said it – do it?”

“Yes, I’ve asked her not to call it fucking,” she answered. “I told her you didn’t like to use that word because people used it to mean bad things sometimes. I tried to explain why you call it making love.”

“Oh, did she understand that?”

“I don’t know. I can’t tell her what physical sensations are like when we’re doing it. I don’t know how to tell her about the emotions we feel either.”

“Yeah, I guess that is hard to get across to kids. Are we going to let them watch us?”

“I don’t know, Kieran. I don’t think it’s a spectator sport, especially not with our own kids. Maybe someday, when they’re closer to puberty and can understand it better.”

“Shit, I don’t understand it now. I just do it.”

“You do it very well too. Rachael called this morning. She said they’ll take the old recliner in the basement if we still want to get rid of it.”

It always took me a minute to reorient when she took the conversation off at a ninety-degree angle like that.

“They’re welcome to it,” I finally said. “Is there anything else they really need for their apartment?” 

“She says they’re happy with what they’ve got even if most of it’s used stuff. She thanked me again for the bed we bought them. She says she likes having a king-size playground to wrestle with Luke.”

“How are they doing in college?”

“She’s struggling. Luke’s helping her. He’s OK in his classes. They’re just going through the same adjustments we all had to make as freshmen.”

“Well, let me know if they need anything.”

“Luke’s Dad’s giving him a monthly allowance that covers the basics. They’re still trying to get financial assistance for Rachael. They’d like to get married but they know it’ll be harder to get help for her if she’s married.”

“Yeah, I talked to his father about a month ago. He’s proud of Luke. He spent the night with them when he was driving through a few weeks ago. He said he could see why Luke loves Rachael.”

“Does he still call you regularly?”

“Every week, regular as clockwork, mid-morning on Friday. I think sometimes he’s just checking up on me since I got his old job on his recommendation. We have some good talks. I’ve learned lots of good stuff about people at work, stuff that’s not in their personnel files. I get lots of good advice too. I’ve even taken some of it.”

“Does he ever say anything about Luke’s mother?”

“Not much,” I answered. “They’re divorced. She’s sunk deeper into her religious fanaticism. He says she won’t even go see Luke as long as he’s – as she puts it - living in sin with Rachael.”

“Well, let’s just make sure we give both of them all the love we can,” Siobhan said. “He’s a good kid. I’d be proud of him if he was my own son. I am anyway.”

“I’m damn proud of him too. Sometimes I feel like he’s my son.”

“She called Luke once. Kept telling him he was going to hell for his sins. She’s never met Rachael and still calls her a harlot. Rachael was sitting there and she heard it all on the speaker phone.”

“Yeah, I heard about that call. What did Luke say?”

“He said he’d already been through hell trying to live with her and now he was in heaven living with Rachael. He said not being loved was hell and now he was loved and it was the closest to heaven he’d ever get.”

“Good for him. Do you remember when he came back to us after Thanksgiving last year? He was hurting so damn bad because of his parents and you took him in the living room and sat in his lap. I went in there and he had his hand under your sweatshirt.”

“I was the one who put his hand there, Kieran. He didn’t do it. I just let him hold me and I tried to show him a little love to help him not hurt so bad.”

“I’m not criticizing what you did, Siobhan. When we both hugged him and he started crying, it was like a dam burst. I think he was trying to turn loose of the pain. That’s why I wanted to replace it with love. When you made love with him, it seemed like he could completely open up and love us and the kids in return. Do you think he’d have been so understanding of Rachael’s need for love if we hadn’t helped him learn what it’s like?”

“Well, I guess it worked, didn’t it? 

“Yeah, it did. Are they going with us to my parent’s place for Thanksgiving? I talked to Mom and she said they’d love to have them too. We can rent a big van and all go together.”

“They said they’d love to go. Are we just going for the day or do you want to spend a few nights with your folks?”

“Just one day. I’ve got to work on Friday. We can go up early Thursday morning and then come back late that night. The kids will be out of school on Friday and they can sleep late.”

“Well, Luke and Rachael won’t have any classes on Friday. Would it be OK if they stayed with us for a few days? I miss having him around here. It feels like part of my family’s gone.”

“Sure. They’re always welcome. You know that. We might even give them a few more lessons. Would you like that?”

“I don’t know, Kieran. Do you really think we should have sex with them anymore? Maybe they’d rather just do it with each other.”

“You’re probably right. I know we did the right thing with Luke in using lots of love and some sex to help him be a normal person. I still don’t know if we did the right thing the weekend we spent with them at the cabin.”

“I thought you enjoyed that.”

“I did. It was about as much fun as I’ve ever had. It was really something having a nineteen year-old girl try to screw me to death. I seem to remember you having a good time with Luke.”

“I did. What do you think the kids would say if they knew we were still playing around with them?”

“I don’t think it would be a problem for them. I think Kavan understands what you did for Luke. He told me once he was proud of us for teaching Luke to love.”

She did another ninety-degree turn.

“I took my car in to the BMW place for service today like you told me. They gave me a loaner and Kerry and I shopped for a while. I told them I had to have it back in time to pick up Kavan and Arial at school. It was ready. The bill’s on your desk.”

“Did they give it a thorough inspection? Check the brakes and tires and everything?”

“Yes. They didn’t have to do anything except the routine stuff. It’s been a great little car. I’m glad you gave it to me when we got married. I’ve never had a problem with it.”

“Well, the Germans are great with automobiles. I want me a Mercedes some day. Those things last forever.”

“Kieran, I’ve wondered for years how you could afford a little red BMW. You’d been out of college for three years and I know it was paid for when we married. And you’d saved quite a bit more. Where’d you get all the money?”

“Well, let’s just say I earned it. I had a part-time job working for Mrs. DeLand and it was hard work. Damn hard work.”

She caught my emphasis on hard. I’d never told her I’d worked for Claire DeLand. She knew me only too well. She knew there was a reason I said it that way.

“You got the car doing something for Mrs. DeLand?” she asked, looking at me with her eyes wide and no smile on her face.

“Yeah, hard work!”

“Kieran, do you mean what I think you mean?”

“I don’t know. What do you think I mean?”

“I think you’re saying you did something with your dick for the car. Did you?”

I couldn’t help but grin. “Yeah.”

“Are you going to tell me?”

“Shit, I don’t know. I shouldn’t have started teasing you with it. I try to be truthful with you about everything, even stuff I did before we got married, but I don’t know about this.”

“Did you do anything that hurt people? You know, like buggering little boys.”

“Hell, no, I wouldn’t do stuff like that. I’ve never done anything with anybody unless they wanted me to. I told you about buggering Susan Willingham; that’s as close as I’ve come.”

“So whatever you did for Claire was with women who wanted you to do it?”

“Damn right, it was always their choice. One or two chose not to do anything but the others jumped at the chance.”

“Then don’t be ashamed of it. I’m not going to criticize you. Tell me about it.”

“If you weren’t married to me and getting it for free, what would you pay me for my services?”

“I don’t know, Kieran. I don’t know the going rate for whatever you did. Damn it, what did you do anyway?”

“If I’d come to you from a male escort service and given you a few hours of damn good sex, how much would it be worth to you?”

She looked at me and shook her head.

I grinned at her. “Come on, how much?”

"I don’t know, Kieran,” she said. “With your looks, your personality, your love for the finer things in life, well, I think you would be a rather expensive toy for a woman."

I could hear the slightly mocking tone in her voice.

"No," I replied, "I was never a toy. I decided at the beginning I’d never do anything I didn’t want to do. When I began to question what I was doing, I decided it was time to quit."

Siobhan looked at me with surprise. I think she finally believed I’d done what I’d been teasing her with. 

"Do you mean you've actually been in a situation like that, that you've been paid for your services?"

"Yep, it started in the year before I met you, in my second year out of college."

“Are you telling me the truth?"

“Do you want to hear it?”

“Yes, tell me.”

"You remember the corporation I worked for my first couple of years out of college, don't you? Well, it started when the president of the corporation and his wife had a summer barbecue at their home for the younger corporate employees. They had a large pool next to the house and a volleyball net set up on the lawn. We were invited to come dressed very casually. The invitation said come dressed for volleyball and swimming and bring appetites for beer and barbecue."

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When I rang the doorbell, a young woman who turned out to be the one of the president’s secretaries opened the door. She checked my name against a guest list and then escorted me to the back of the house, through open French doors, to the pool area where everyone was gathered. She led me to the president, Mr. DeLand, and started to introduce me but he interrupted her, calling me by my first name. I was surprised since I’d had relatively little contact with him. He was a tall, graying man, distinguished looking even in white shorts and a colorful Hawaiian shirt.

We talked for a minute or two and then he put his hand on my shoulder. “Come; let me introduce you to my wife, Claire.”

He introduced us, using just my first name. His wife was a tall, elegant woman, with long straight hair and classical features. I guessed that she was probably in her early forties. She was wearing a bathing suit, separate top and bottom, with a towel loosely tied around her waist. I tried to avoid looking directly at her body. I was more than a little intimidated by such a bounty of bare flesh. Her figure could only be described as Reubenesque, with wide bare shoulders, full breasts that seemed to need no support, a narrow waist, and generous hips.

Her husband quickly surrendered me to her while he went to greet the next arrivals. She smiled at me, a warm, sincere smile, and then proceeded to do quite deliberately what I had been too shy to do to her: she slowly looked me up and down.

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I was dripping wet with sweat after only one game of volleyball. I stripped off my knit shirt and wiped my face with it. The pool looked inviting but I knew I had to find someplace to get rid of the two beers I had drunk. There was an outdoor shower to the side of the pool and we had been asked to use it before getting in the pool to keep the grass out. As I looked at it spraying down, the urge to pee became stronger.

I went into the house, wondering where the bathrooms were. Somebody with foresight had posted signs on the wall, pointing one direction for men and down a hallway for women.

I went in my direction and found myself in a large library or office, with jade-green walls, a huge red-leather couch and matching chair, and an antique desk against one wall. The bathroom door on one side was conveniently left ajar.

I shut the door behind me and never thought to lock it. I quickly raised the toilet lid, pulled my shorts down, and let them fall part way down my legs. Underneath, I had worn running briefs, since I always found them to be more comfortable than a jock-strap. I pulled the briefs down just under my balls, letting it all hang out. My dick was heavy and hot in my hand and swollen with the need to find relief from my distended bladder. I leaned forward with my left hand on the wall in front of me, my right hand holding my cock. As I started to drill a heavy stream in the center of the bowl, I shut my eyes and enjoyed the moment. When I finished, I stood a moment longer and then pulled downward on my cock, milking out the last drop or two. I even shook it gently a couple of times before I straightened up and opened my eyes. When I did, I found I wasn't alone in the bathroom.

The wife of the president of the corporation was standing just inside the closed door, leaning back against the wall.

"That was quite a performance," she said.

I was speechless. I looked down at my genitals and then back directly at her. I swallowed a couple of times and decided I could be just as nonchalant about it as she was. I brought my fingers down my cock one more time, slid the foreskin back over the head, and shook it gently once or twice. I slowly and carefully pulled my briefs back up, deliberately taking more time than necessary to make sure my cock and balls were comfortably arranged. Just as slowly, I pulled my shorts back on and buttoned them. Last, I leaned forward and flushed the toilet. Then I replied.

"I'm glad you enjoyed it," I said, doing my best to smile without showing how embarrassed I was.

"Oh, I did," she responded, looking me over carefully from head to toe. "Now I know what the term cock-sure means. I think you'll do very nicely."

I was confused; I had no idea what she meant by her remark.

She opened the door and motioned for me to follow her. In the office, she went to the desk, opened a drawer, and took out a card. When she handed it to me, I saw it had just a telephone number on it.

"Call that number at two tomorrow afternoon," she said. "I didn't just walk in on you by accident. I need a young man like you to do something for me. I want somebody who is very intelligent and can be very, very discreet. Do you think you can manage that?"

I smiled and looked her directly in the eyes before I gave her an answer.

"Yes."

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When I called, she answered after the second ring with a deep-voiced hello.

"You asked me to call," I said. She recognized my voice immediately.

"Yes. I told you I needed a young man like you for, how should I put it, a business arrangement that requires certain talents. I've already looked into your personnel file and you certainly seem to have the intelligence this calls for. But I want to emphasize again, this calls for someone with certain social skills and a great deal of discretion. If we reach an agreement, you’ll be well rewarded. If you let anybody know about it, you’ll do serious damage to a number of people, most of all yourself. Are you interested?"

"I'm intrigued," I answered. "Whatever you have in mind, I want you to understand up front – I won't do anything criminal. I don't need money or anything else that bad."

"It's nothing like that," she said. "I can find plenty of idiots who would commit any criminal act for money. This is essentially a business arrangement. Your work for my husband's corporation shouldn't be affected. You may not know it but I'm also the owner of a relatively-large corporation. I occasionally have visitors from out-of-town, here to negotiate contracts with me. I need someone to act as their escort, to make sure they have no problems in a strange city."

"I don't understand why you think I’d be good for that sort of work."

"Some of these visitors are women, here by themselves. I think they would appreciate having an escort who looks like you, to drive them around, to take them to dinner, and," she paused for a few seconds, "to make sure they have whatever they want."

"That sounds like hard work," I said.

"Yes, it might be hard on you at times," she laughed, "but I believe you’d be up to it."

"Let me make one thing clear. I won't let myself be used by anybody. I don't intend to do anything that hurts my self-respect. If I see that happening, I'll walk out of the deal."

"Agreed," she said. "I don't think that what I have in mind will succeed unless you can take pride in your work. At any point, you can take a walk if you don't like what I ask you to do."

"Do you have something specific in mind in the near future?" I asked.

“First, you’ll have to take a very thorough physical. Call your company’s medical office and set up an appointment with Dr. Atkins.”

“I assure you I’m in perfect health.”

“If the doctor’s report confirms that, you're going to serve as my escort next month. You might consider this the job interview, so that I can see if you have all the qualities needed. My husband will be out of town and I want you to take me to a charity affair, a dinner and dance, in support of one of our arts organizations. It's black tie. Do you have a tuxedo?"

"No."

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The next night, I followed her instructions and went to the men's department in a large store. When I asked for the sales person whose name she had given me, Mr. Broussard, I found that she had given him specific instructions. The tuxedo had to be very simple and very masculine, he said. After I made my choice, the pants were altered while I waited and I walked out an hour or so later with the tuxedo, an assortment of ties and accessories chosen by Mr. Broussard, six shirts, a box of underwear and another of socks, and two pairs of shoes. I felt strange when I was told that the charges had been made to her account and I did not even have to sign my name.

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A few weeks later, I dressed and drove to her house precisely on time. When I rang the doorbell, she opened it within seconds. She was wearing a long rose-colored evening gown that exposed just enough of her shoulders and breasts to be provocative. She held out her hand to me.

"Come in," she said, "and let me look at you."

She led me into the office again, cluttered now with papers on the desk. I realized that this was her office, not her husband's. She had evidently been working while waiting for me.

I stood quietly while she walked around me, looking me up and down.

"Do you approve?" I asked.

"Oh, yes," she answered and smiled at me. "You look very good, even in clothes. You might like to know the doctor’s report confirmed what you told me."

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It was well after midnight when I drove her back home. The evening had been thoroughly enjoyable. The food was excellent, the entertainment from the arts group superb, and the dancing afterward pleasant. When she introduced me to her friends as her nephew, I wondered if they really believed her.

Her Mercedes was a quiet pleasure to drive and I started humming the music from one of the opera arias.

"Do you like opera?" she asked.

"Some of them. The Italian ones, especially Verdi and Puccini and Rossini. Some French ones, too. Most of the German stuff is too heavy for me."

"Where did you learn about them?"

"My mother’s the music lover in the family. She always encouraged us to learn to play and enjoy music. My father had other interests but he supported her in trying to instill a love of good music in us. I think she succeeded with me more than with my brother or sister."

“And how did you learn to dance so well?”

“My mother and father love ball-room dancing. They’ve taken courses in lots of different kinds of dancing. My mother used to practice with me and with my brother. When my sister developed an interest in the same area, she practiced with both of us. I didn’t like it when I was just thirteen but as I grew up I began to enjoy it more.

"I believe they both succeeded with you in more ways than you know. I told you this evening was in some ways a job interview. I wanted to see if you had the social graces to handle yourself with people like these."

"And you conclusion is?" I prompted.

"You certainly have the manners of a cultured young man. You can carry on an interesting conversation. If I’m not mistaken, you also appreciated the dinner we had tonight. And, whether you believe it or not, I’ve never danced with anyone else that made me enjoy it as much as you did. But you're not quite through with the interview yet."

When I looked at her, I could see a faint smile on her face, as though she were toying with me.

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At her instruction, I parked the car in the garage. As she unlocked the door into the house, she pushed a button and the garage door quietly closed.

"We won't turn on any lights," she said, holding out her hand to mine.

She led me through the house into the large living room. The moonlight though the windows was just enough to see by. She kicked off her shoes and reached up under her gown. She fumbled with something and then pulled downward, first one leg and then the other. She sat down on the couch and put her feet up on the coffee table in front of her.

"Take your coat off. Your shoes too. You might as well be comfortable. I believe we're about to agree on a business deal."

I took off the tuxedo coat and tie and unloosened the top two buttons on the shirt. I sat beside her on the couch, pulled off my shoes, and put my feet up on the coffee table. I wiggled my toes with a genuine sigh of relief. 

"Never go dancing in new shoes," I said.

"I agree," she said. "Now, to business. I want you to serve as an escort for people I do business with. Sometimes it will be husband and wife and you’ll pick them up at the airport, get them comfortably settled in the hotel, take them to business meetings, things like that. You'll have a business credit card to take care of all costs. Your job will be to make their life as pleasant as possible while they're here. It's much easier to do business with people who haven’t had to deal with the frustrations of a strange city."

"That's going to cause some conflicts with my job for your husband's corporation, isn't it?"

"My husband will take care of that. You'll still have to do a good job for him; your work schedule will just be more flexible."

"I don't think that's all you have in mind, is it?"

"No, it isn't. I told you I frequently had women to deal with, women who are in town by themselves. You'll do the same sort of services for them, except that I expect you to take them to dinner and make sure they're protected from any problems. Then there's one additional service where you should excel. Quite frankly, I want you to fuck their brains out."

She looked directly at me as she said this. I thought for a minute or two before I answered.

"They'll be much easier to deal with if they’ve been well-satisfied sexually. Is that it?"

"Let's just say that part of the job is left to your discretion. I think it would always be best if you were not aggressive. If it happens, it should always be because she gives you reason to believe that's what she wants. I don't want any of them to think that we arranged this. If you don't think you can honestly enjoy having sex with any of them, you can pretend to be gay. You still might not be safe because some of the women I know would love the challenge of straightening you out."

"I'm not sure how I'm going to feel about this. If I can't deal with it, in the way I feel about myself, I'm going to quit. I don't want that to get me fired from my job with your husband's corporation."

"I agree. You're doing a fine job for him. Now, I want to be very clear about your compensation for this. You’ll have a salary that’ll cover most of your work for me. For your special services, there’ll be no paycheck, no records of any kind kept, either by me or by you. You’ll receive payment in cash or in other ways, none of which will leave an audit trail. Is that agreeable?"

"Sure. Sounds shady but I’m fine with it."

"Good, now for the last of your job interview. I like to take a swim at night, before I go to bed. I want you to join me. Unzip this."

She stood up and turned her back to me. In the faint light, I couldn’t see the seam down the back of her gown. With my fingertips, I searched out the zipper and pulled it down. She let the gown fall to the floor, turned around, and reached out to the buttons on my shirt. I let her undo them and strip the shirt off me. I had to help her with the cummerbund but she managed to open my pants by herself. I pushed them down and stood before her, wearing only my white briefs and black socks. She quickly stripped off her slip and stood there in nothing but panties and brassiere.

I hesitated, waiting for her, to see how far to go. When she released the catch on the bra between her breasts, I knew she intended to swim in the nude. When she peeled her panties down off her hips, I did the same with my briefs and socks. In the dim light, I could see little more than the outline of her body. She led the way outside, through the French doors, to the pool.

She found a cap in a poolside chair and tucked her long hair underneath. In the moonlight, I could see her more clearly. Her waist was surprisingly narrow, her breasts full and heavy, with large aureoles, and her hips a perfect complement to her breasts. She looked at me, appraising my body in the same way.

Finally she eased into the pool quietly, without diving, and I did the same. She started swimming immediately, easily, almost effortless, and I followed. We swam side by side, from one end of the pool to the other and back a couple of times. The water was a little too cool for comfort. When she swam to the side of the pool, I was glad to follow.

She held on to the side, still hidden by the water except for her shoulders. I pulled myself up and out of the water and sat on the side on the pool, my legs together, feet still in the water, just a few feet from her. She looked at me for a minute or two, not saying a word, and then moved closer, holding onto my legs. She tugged on my knees, indicating that she wanted me to move them apart. I did as she wished, exposing myself to her. My cock was drawn up from the cold water, with the foreskin completely covering the head, and my balls were pulled up tight against my body.

"Is this the same proud warrior I saw a few weeks ago?" she teased.

"He's cold," I answered. "He’d like to find a warm place. Would you like to help him?"

She took my cock in one hand and leaned forward. She stuck her tongue out and licked softly against the wrinkled circle of foreskin at the end. The effect was like an electric shock. I felt an instantaneous response as the warm blood inside me began to surge into my cock. She kept teasing me with her tongue, watching as my cock gradually swelled and elongated toward her. As usual, my foreskin slowly retracted and, within a minute or so, my cock was fully erect in her hand. I opened my legs wider, inviting her to continue.

She slid her hand up and down, covering and uncovering the head of my cock. Finally she opened her mouth wide and took in the head of my cock. I leaned back, my head tilted toward the moon, shut my eyes, and let her have her way. Within a minute or so, I was aware only of my throbbing cock and her hot mouth around the head of it.

Suddenly a strong breeze swept across the pool and I shivered, involuntarily, either from the cold and wet on my skin or the pleasure in the last couple of inches of my cock.

“Are you cold?” she asked. When I nodded yes, she pulled herself easily up out of the pool.

“Come, let’s go in and find some place warm,” she said, holding out her hand to me.

As we went back into the house, she carefully locked the French doors behind us and closed the drapes over them. She held out her hand to me again and led me through the darkness to her office. As we entered, she again locked the door behind us.

“Stand here for a minute until I turn on the light,” she said.

I could hear her closing the shutters on the only window in the room and then drawing the drapes over the window. She moved around easily in her familiar surroundings and seconds later a lamp on her desk was turned on.

She went first to a thermostat on the wall and then into the bathroom. When she returned a moment later, she had two large towels and two large white robes. She tossed one towel to me and both robes on the couch.

“Perhaps we’ll both be more comfortable if we’re warmer,” she teased. She began to dry off, her eyes moving from my face to my cock and back. I did the same, enjoying the soft warmth of the towel and the lush fullness of her body. After a minute she pulled on one of the robes, leaving it untied, still revealing her breasts, stomach, and the light brown patch between her thighs. I could already feel warm air blowing out of some hidden duct so I didn’t bother with the other robe.

She sat down in a large leather chair beside her desk, motioning for me to come closer. “Now let me see what your proud warrior is like.”

I stood directly in front of her with my cock still hard and pointing up at her face. I turned so that she could see it slightly from the side and then reached down with one hand to hold it horizontally level toward her. I suppose it was male vanity but I wanted to present her with the best image of what she proposed to rent.

She reached out and let my cock rest in the palm of her hand, her thumb holding the shaft while her fingertips touched my scrotum. The head of my cock first rested just on her wrist and, when she released it, it began to lift into the air at an angle.

“You should be proud of this,” she said, as she sat back in her chair. “It’s big enough and nice enough to please any woman. I think it’ll serve you very well in the jobs I’ll have for you.”

“I appreciate the compliment,” I said, “but at the moment I’m not interested in any other woman. I think it’s time you stopped playing with me and got serious. I’ve been thinking about what you said earlier tonight about some of the women I’ll escort. You told me you wanted me, in your words, to fuck their brains out. I think you should understand how I feel about women. I think you should understand clearly what I’m agreeing to.”

“Is there some problem?” she asked.

“I’m not sure. I’m not a woman hater. In fact, I’m the opposite. I love women. I have a very loving relationship with my mother and sister. I believe I’ve loved every woman I’ve ever had sex with. I love most of the ones I haven’t had sex with. If our agreement is for me to make love with a woman, I can do that. I won’t deliberately hurt them. I won’t try to leave them brainless. If an hour or a night of good sex serves your purpose, I’ll be glad to provide that service.”

“I understand,” she said. “Maybe my choice of words was inappropriate. Your approach will probably be the wiser one. Now, do we have an agreement?”

She held out her hand to me. I shook it once to indicate my acceptance.

“Now, it’s time for you to make up your mind what’s going to happen tonight,” I said. “Unless you tell me no, now, emphatically, no, I want to make love to you. No, that’s not the right way to put it. I want to make love with you.”

She smiled up at me, with no audible response, while her hand sought out my cock again. She found it still hard and standing at an angle. She cupped my testicles in her hand and then her fingernails traced a path from behind my testicles, down and around them, and along the underside of my cock.

I gave one big sigh of relief and took her silence and actions for acquiescence.

“Maybe I shouldn’t ask,” I said, “but I try to be responsible in situations like this. Do you want me to use a condom?”

She smiled at me again before answering.

“It’s not necessary,” she said. “I’m not going to have any more children. I’m glad to know you’re careful. Just remember to be very careful with all of your clients.”

“I will.”

“How many did you bring?”

“Just three. They’re in my coat pocket.”

“You really are cocksure, aren’t you? Could you have used three tonight?”

“Yeah, with a little help from you.”

I kneeled down in front of her and, as she had done earlier to me, tugged on her knees to get her to part her legs. The lamp on the desk spilled light down on her and I could see clearly. Her inner thighs were creamy white with a slight tan. The soft mounds at their juncture were slightly darker and, between them, I saw a tightly-closed slit that showed nothing of the inner flesh. I realized that she was not as aroused as I was and maybe not as confident in her role as she pretended.

I leaned closer, nestling my head just below her breasts against the softness of her stomach.

“Hold me,” I whispered.

She put her hands behind my head and pulled me against her. I slid my hands under her robe, around behind her, and pulled her hips closer to me. For a few minutes, I was quiet, unmoving against her, my eyes closed, and listening to the sound of her breathing, the sound of her heart beating, and the ticking of a clock on the wall. At length, I let my hands begin to explore, stroking her back, her sides, and at last moving to her breasts. I felt the nipples harden under my hands.

I turned my face upward, my eyes still closed and searched for the nipple on one breast with my lips. I began to suck on it, forcefully at first, almost like a hungry baby. I heard her gasp as though I had hurt her and so I changed to a gently sucking, pulling just the long nipple into my mouth. When I felt her hand begin to stroke my hair, I began those endless variations of loving a woman’s breast – teasing with my tongue, opening my mouth a wide as possible and sucking on it, gently biting the nipple.

After a few minutes, I changed to her other breast and covered the previous one with my hand and fingers. The nipple was a hard bump in the palm of my hand.

Her hands left my head and found their way to my shoulders. At first her touch was soft and gentle but then I felt her strength when she pulled me tighter against her breasts and her fingernails dug into my back.

I brought both my hands around behind her one more time and pulled her hips forward until she was sitting just on the edge of the chair. I slowly moved my face downward, feeling for the soft fleece of her pubic hair. At the same time, I caught her legs behind the knees and lifted them off the floor, curving them over my shoulders and down my back.

With my tongue I sought out the lips, closed and cold, that I had seen earlier. When I came up for air minutes later, I saw a different picture. She was open to me now, those soft lips spread, exposing the inner flesh, pink and coral and even red. Her vagina glistened wetly in the light and I knew from the taste in my mouth that it was not just from my saliva.

I stood up and offered her my hand. When she accepted, I pulled her up out of the chair and asked one question: “Where?”

She led me to the large leather couch and I stood waiting for her cue. She put both hands on my chest and pushed me back and down to the couch. The light from the desk lamp was directly behind my head and I knew she could clearly see my engorged cock. I wondered how long I would be able to last when I got it in her.

She straddled my thighs and put both hands on me. She held my testicles with one hand while she began to stroke slowly up and down the shaft of my cock with the other. As usual, a drop of two of clear fluid oozed out of the slit at the end.

With her finger, she rubbed the lubricant over the head of my cock and then moved over it. She held it in the right position and guided the head into her cunt. She leaned forward then, both hands on my chest, and slowly began to move up and down, taking more of my cock into her with each movement.

I kept my eyes open and watched and felt her hot, silky, living flesh gradually swallowing every inch of my cock. As more and more of the shaft disappeared into her, she slowed. When a small distance separated my blond and her brown pubic hair, she stopped.

“You’ve hit bottom,” she whispered. “Can you feel it pressing against my cervix?”

I didn’t answer, waiting for her to do whatever she wanted. Her head hung over me and her eyes were shut.

“I want it all,” she grunted, and began a slow rotary grinding movement, moving her hips around in a circular pattern, pressing down against my cock. I watched as the last of my cock disappeared and her pubic hair merged with mine and her soft ass cheeks pressed down on my balls.

She reached for my hand and I wondered what she wanted me to do. She placed my fingers against her cheek and then took my thumb in her mouth. She sucked on it and continued the rotary movement with her hips.

Finally she leaned back and I could again see my cock stretching open the lips to her cunt. Just where her clitoral shaft separated into two lips, I could see the engorged button of her clitoris, with two tiny tendons extending down. She took my hand away from her face, brought it downward, and guided my thumb to her clitoris.

I stroked it gently with the soft pad of my thumb. After a minute, I stuck my thumb in my own mouth, lubricating it generously with saliva. I returned to her clitoris, stroking this time in a larger circle, over the shaft, down around the soft lips before they began to encircle my cock, around again, gently, ever so gently, touching her blood-red engorged button. Her breathing became faster and she pressed down harder against my cock.

Suddenly I felt her reach orgasm with a series of strong contractions around the base of my cock. I continued my stroking, even gentler now to her flesh, waiting for her to finish. At length she reached down for my hand and held it still against my stomach. For a minute or so, she sat quietly, eyes closed, breathing heavily. Finally, she opened her eyes.

“It’s your turn now,” she said. “I’m glad you can be a gentleman. Remember, always let the lady come first.”

“I will, but I might want more than one turn,” I responded. “It’s been too long since I’ve made love to a woman.”

“We have the rest of the night. It might be good if you left before dawn. Now, what would you like me to do? Tell it to me and I’ll do it.”

I thought for a minute; what did I want. I knew but could I say it without being ridiculous? I decided to try. 

“Claire, what I want is as old as mankind and womankind,” I whispered. “I want to change places with you, to be on top of you, to feel your stomach against mine, your breasts against my chest; I don’t want my cock in you then; I want it just there, between us, so you can feel it on your belly; then I want to feel your arms wrapped around me, your hands holding my ass, your legs wrapped around mine; I want you to kiss me, or I should say I want to kiss you; I’ve wanted to kiss you since the first minute I saw you; I want you to hold me until you can’t stand it any longer; and when you begin to move your hips, I’m going to see if my cock can find your cunt, with no help from either of our hands; and then I’m going to slowly slide my cock into your cunt until it’s buried down to my balls, to stay like that until I can’t stand it any longer; and when I forget everything else, I’m going to begin to fuck you, slowly at first, short strokes first, gradually getting faster and faster, with longer strokes, until I’m giving you every inch of my cock as deep and hard as I can, losing control more and more, slamming my stomach against yours, bouncing my balls off your ass-cheeks, all the time keeping my mouth on yours, until finally I come, my cock buried to the hilt in you, pouring out a load of semen with about a billion sperm directly on the entrance to your womb.”

She raised up over me, my cock sliding out of her, and then stood up beside the couch. She offered me her hand, pulled me up until I was standing beside her. Quickly she took my place.

She smiled up at me. “That was quite eloquent, Kieran. If you do it as well as you describe it, you’re going to be hired for the job.”

<><><>

Siobhan interrupted my story. “I don’t want to hear about all of the women you fucked, excuse me, made love with. Let’s save some of those stories for another night. Just tell me about the first one. Tell me how she usually paid you for your special services.”

“Except for the salary, there’s no written record of any payment I received. It’s in my memory. Sometimes the payments were in cash, delivered to me at work in the office mail in an envelope with no return address. Other times I was told to go back to Mr. Broussard and my wardrobe increased with some very expensive clothes. On one occasion, there was a Rolex watch. The one that amazed me the most was the time I received a call from the BMW dealer that my car was ready for delivery."

<><><>

My first client was Claire’s best friend, widowed less then a year earlier. Claire said that her friend had been deeply depressed since the death of her husband and, even though she was only 39, seemed to have given up on life and refused to consider thinking of another man. Again, Claire made all the plans. I was to be her friend’s fortieth birthday present.

She sent me to Mr. Broussard again. This time he outfitted me in a Navy blazer, three pair of pants, and three mock turtlenecks, all light and soft feeling on my body. I was sitting in the dressing room in my white briefs when he returned with a box of underwear, silky-looking boxer underwear in varying colors. “Here, try these on and let me see how they look.”

I hesitated a moment. He recognized my reluctance.

He smiled knowingly at me. “Kieran, I’ve been a complete heterosexual all my life, in case you want to know. I’ve been married to the same woman for over forty years and we have three children and eight grandkids. Mrs. Deland has been very candid with me in all the years I’ve served her. I know what sort of services you’re providing for her. I’m told you have a certain asset that will serve her purposes very well. I’m supposed to enhance the way it’s presented. I will admit I envy you but let me assure you I’m simply doing my job.”

I stripped off my white briefs and put on burgundy-colored silk boxer shorts. It was easy to see the shape of my cock and balls through the thin material.

“That should tempt any woman,” Mr. Broussard said. “Now put on the gray pants.”

I did what he told me.

“Close your eyes and rub your penis a few times. Imagine you’re dancing, pressed against a woman.”

I did as he suggested. When I looked down, I could clearly see the beginning of a hard-on, the rim around the head of my cock clearly visible through the gray slacks.

“Perfect,” Mr. Broussard said. “They’ll love that.”

<><><>

On Saturday, when the taxi delivered me to the front entrance of what I knew was the most expensive hotel in the city, a uniformed young man held the door for me and carried my one suitcase. As instructed, I arrived at the front desk a few minutes before noon.

An attractive young woman was behind the desk. I’m sure I was blushing as I told her, “Mrs. Claire Deland said I should ask for Kathy.”

“I’m Kathy,” she replied, with a smile. “Mrs. Deland has made all the arrangements. Steve will show you to her room,” she said, handing him a key-card. “If you need anything before six, please call down and ask for me. After six, ask for Roberta. Please enjoy you stay with us, sir.”

The room was a suite of rooms, with a large living area, already set up with a table for lunch for two. The drapes were pulled back and the window provided a beautiful view of the city. The bedroom was huge but the drapes were closed with only one lamp providing a soft light. The bathroom had a tub easily large enough for two and the separate shower could have held three or four.

I had just finished exploring the suite when I heard a soft knock, a key card being inserted, and the turning of the door handle. I hurried to the center of the large window as I had been instructed and waited.

Mrs. Deland entered first, followed by a tall, attractive woman, a slim brunette. The other woman hesitated when she saw me, until Mrs. Deland caught her hand and pulled her into the room. She led her friend over to me and introduced us, first names only. Her name was Elizabeth but, Mrs. Deland said, she was always called Beth.

Beth looked back and forth between the two of us, evidently confused about my reason for being here.

“I know I invited you for lunch for two,” Mrs. Deland said. “But I wasn’t quite truthful. The lunch is for the two of you. He is the best dancer I’ve ever known. I hope you think so too. And now I’m going to leave. Just remember that it’s your birthday so unwrap the birthday present I’ve left for you. It’ll only have one candle.”

With that, she turned and left the room. Beth’s mouth was open but she seemed speechless, trying to figure out what this was all about.

I took her hand and led her to the couch, making sure that I sat at the opposite end. Mrs. Deland had told me of some of Beth’s interests so it was easy to start a conversation with her.

At 12:30, there was a soft knock on the door. When I answered it, a young woman wheeled in a tray with a bottle of champagne in a silver cooler and a tray of appetizers. I opened the bottle and poured two glasses.

At 1:15, there was another soft knock. This time, the same woman wheeled in another tray with our lunch. I took Beth’s hand, led her to the table, and held her chair. After the woman served us, she left. At 2:00, I called the front desk and asked Kathy to have the remains of our lunch cleared away.

We talked for while longer, until I could see that Beth was finally relaxing with me. I walked across the room and turned on a CD player on a table. The music had a soft sensuous Latin rhythm.

“Claire told me you enjoy dancing. Would you do me the honor?” I walked back across the room to her and held out my hand.

When I first took her in my arms, she held herself distant from me. Gradually, as she began to enjoy herself, she began to relax. Within a half hour, she offered no resistance when I pulled her against me with my pelvis against hers. I had worried needlessly whether I would respond to her. I could feel my cock begin to fill and grow, reaching a state of arousal limited only by the clothing I wore. As I pressed against her, I was sure she could feel it too.

The temperature in the room had been deliberately set a little on the warm side. I felt a drop of sweat on my forehead and wiped it off with my hand.

“It’s warm,” I said. “Would you help me take my coat off?”

She seemed confused but she did as I asked and I tossed the coat on the couch. As we began to dance again, I held her close pressing against her with more urgency. Her hand slid over the silk turtleneck, over my arm and shoulder and chest. At last she seemed to yield to me, burying her face in the area just below my jaw. We slowed in our dancing, hardly moving, pressing against each other.

“Would you like to unwrap your birthday present now?” I whispered in her ear. 

She looked up at me, indecision in her eyes. “I can’t,” she said.

“You can choose,” I said. “Claire said you were her closest friend. She wanted to give you a birthday present, to remind you how much joy and pleasure there is in life. I’m the present. You know what she meant when she said that there was only one candle. That candle’s burning now and can burn as often as you wish this weekend. The room’s reserved until Monday morning.”

I could see the conflict in her eyes as she stood still in my arms. Finally she reached a decision and caught the sides of the turtleneck and pulled it up and out of my pants. I ducked my head while she pulled it off me. She looked at my bare chest, put out one hand and ran it slowly over me. I caught it and moved it down to my belt.

She unbuckled it, released the catch on the top of my pants, and began to pull down the zipper. I quickly kicked off my shoes and, when she dropped my pants, I stepped out of them. 

She looked down at the white silk boxer shorts I wore, at the bulge that my penis made with the rim of the head clearly visible against the thin fabric. I guided her hand down against it and she gasped when she felt it, still held downward but just on the edge of erection.

I waited for her to take the final step in unwrapping her present, trying to give her the choice in what she did. She chose. She bent over, caught the bottom of the shorts. and pulled then down slowly, watching as the elastic waist slid down until my pubic hair was exposed, then the base of my cock, then the shaft, and, at last, all of her birthday candle. I stepped out of the shorts.

She put both hands one me then, one cupping my balls, the other wrapping around my cock. It quickly came into full erection, swelling to full size and lifting until it was pointed up at almost a forty-five degree angle to my stomach.

I knew it was my turn then. I began to undress her and in a few minutes she stood naked before me. She was still a beautiful and desirable woman, with small breasts that hardly sagged, a flat firm stomach, and a soft tangle of pubic hair that hid the area between her thighs.

I bent down quickly, one arm behind her legs, the other behind her back and picked her up. Her eyes locked with mine as I carried her into the bedroom to the king-size bed with the covers already turned down. I eased her down on the bed and then walked back to the foot of the bed, looking down at her. Her legs were closed and I saw only the beginning of the cleft between them. Her eyes were locked on my erect cock and she had the beginning of a smile on her face.

I crawled from the foot of the bed toward her on my knees and gently pulled her legs apart with my hands. I looked down at the soft mounds of her outer lips, covered with scant pubic hair and at the pale closed inner lips.

I stroked her gently with my hands, over her flat over almost concave stomach, her Mound of Venus, her soft thighs, and gradually moved closer and closer to the center of her. When I finally began to stroke her between her thighs, she gasped and I looked up to see her eyes closed.

I stretched out on the bed, between her legs, slowly slid my hands under her legs, then under her buttocks, and lifted her up from the bed toward my mouth. When she felt me kiss her vulva, she moaned and I heard her whisper, “Nobody’s ever done that before.”

“Then it’s time,” I said. “I wish you could know how much I like to make love to women this way.”

I started with my tongue, teasing the inner lips apart, licking her on the little butterfly-like wings as they separated, bringing my tongue each time upwards toward where I knew I would find her clitoris. After a few minutes I could feel her clitoral hood retract, as the little pea-size organ grew engorged. I used my tongue, pointed, as a substitute for my penis, and licked up the juices her cunt was beginning to secrete. 

I lowered her back down on the bed and then lifted her legs and placed them on my shoulders. I brought my face back down between her thighs and inhaled the scent of her. Slowly and gently I continued to love her with my tongue, occasionally opening my eyes to see what changes were occurring. Her vulva was completely open now. Her vagina was still little more than a potential opening but it glistened wetly with her secretions and my saliva. Her vaginal lips were engorged, pinker, and her clitoris stood out, uncovered and red.

Again I lowered my mouth to her, seeking her clitoris, encircling it with my lips, gently sucking on it. I could hear her breathing become more rapid and she began to moan softly. At the same time that I sucked on her tiny clitoris, I began to flick it with my tongue. Her hands suddenly grabbed my head and pulled my face against her. I could distinctly feel the contractions of her orgasm.

I stopped then and rose up on my knees looking down at her. She smiled up at me and then her gaze moved lower to my cock. I moved closer between her legs and lowered myself down on her. I let my cock rest on her stomach and made no attempt to get it into her. I slid my arms underneath her shoulders, held her head in my hands, and lowered my lips to hers. She met me with an open mouth.

I kissed her like that for a few minutes, quiet and gentle loving, moving from her breasts to her mouth and back, again and again. When she began to press upward against me, against the hardness of my cock, I decided she was ready for the next step. For a moment, I started to reach down and hold my dick until it found the opening into her. Then I remembered Clair’s admonition to let the woman make the choices, that I should not take charge of the situation unless I was certain that was what she wanted.

Holding her, I rolled over so that I was flat on my back with her on top of me, her legs still spread, my cock imprisoned between our bellies.

“Sit up,” I whispered.

She did as I asked and reached down and wrapped her hand around my cock. I guessed that she intended to hold it upright while she slid down on it.

“No,” I said. “Not yet, just sit on it. I want you to do something for me, something I like. I want to feel you on my cock while it’s still outside. I want to feel your lips open up and get wet and I want you to slide back and forth on it. Slide forward and see if you can feel your clit touch the head of my cock. Then slide back until you can feel my balls under your ass.”

I had to use my hands on her hips to show her what I wanted. She smiled when she understood and began to move back and forth, watching, rubbing her vulva, open and exposed, against the underside of my dick. She looked up at me and I could see this was a new discovery for her.

She enjoyed the game for a few minutes while I played with her breasts. I could hear her breathing quickening again. Suddenly she raised herself and I quickly reached down between us and held my cock upright. She slowly lowered herself back down until I could feel my cock head reach the depths of her and our combined pubic hair blocked my view.

I put my hands behind my head and watched her. She had her eyes shut, lost in her own world of sensation, as she sat impaled upon every inch of my cock. Finally she leaned forward slightly and put her hands on my chest and lifted her hips slightly. I watched as she began a slow movement up and down.

After a few minutes, I knew I was slowly building toward an orgasm. I wanted to wait, to see if she could bring herself off this way, but I knew I was about to lose control of the situation. I closed my eyes and tried to think of anything but what I was feeling in my cock. I thought of an unpleasant assignment I had been given at work, one that I dreaded, that filled me with anxiety because it was going to result in hurting at least one or two other people. I must have smiled when I felt the urge subside because I heard Beth whisper.

“You’re smiling like a Cheshire cat while I do all the work.”

I knew I couldn’t hold back any more so I opened my eyes, grabbed her waist with both hands, and roughly pulled her down on my cock. I could feel her pubic bone hit against mine and then I felt her coming, her vagina contracting again and again around the base of my cock. I pressed her down on me until I felt the ripples die away and her head fell forward and her hair hid her face.

When her breathing slowed and her body relaxed, I put my hands on her waist and lifted her just enough to give my hips room to move. I deliberately tried to be as slow as possible at first, savoring the feeling of my cock sliding into her wet warmth. My deliberate consciousness began to fade away and I became aware of nothing but my hard cock moving in and out of her. At some point, I finally lost all control and began to thrust upward into her as hard and as deep as I could, desperate to come in her. I could hear her grunting or moaning, her face beside mine, her mouth on my shoulder, and her teeth fastened on my skin in what would have any other time been a painful bite. As I felt the first spurt begin to travel from deep inside me out of my cock, I pushed her down on it as hard as I could and held her frozen there. I could feel each distinct spurt trying to find room to exit my body, dashing against the entrance to her womb.

<><><>

"That's quite a description," Siobhan said. "I know how Beth must have felt. You've done me that way more times than I can count."

"I can’t really describe what I feel when I do it with you, Siobhan. You know that. Words can’t convey sensations and emotions, no matter well they're used."

"Well, just tell me one more thing," she said. "Did Beth succeed in blowing out her candle?"

"We didn't leave the hotel until almost noon on Monday. I don't know how many times I came or how many she did. I know I went straight home after we parted and went to bed after I had lunch. Except for a trip to the bathroom sometime during the night, I slept for almost eighteen hours."

“What did you do with the Rolex watch Claire gave you?” Siobhan asked. “When we married, you had the BMW and it’s mine now. I think you had most of the clothes you described. I’ve never seen the Rolex.”

“I wore it a few times. It had a ring of diamonds around the, what is it, the bezel. I didn’t like the looks I got when people saw it. I sold it about a year before I met you and then got me one with a stainless steel case.”

“Is that the one you gave to Kavan about a year ago?”

“Yeah, he chewed on it so much when he was teething, I quit wearing it and saved it for him.”

“That Rolex was worth a lot if it had diamonds on it. What did you do with the money?”

“Used it to start investing in stocks. That’s where all of the money I got from Claire went, that plus part of my other salary.”

“Well, you did have quite a portfolio when you asked me to take charge of it. Craziest damn mess I’d ever seen. I still don’t see how every one of them could have increased in value the way they did.”

“Aaawww, come on, Siobhan, I may be a dumb engineer and you’re a smart financial analyst but I figured out how to make good investments.”

“Sure you did. I looked at your stuff a lot when we first got married and I couldn’t see any rhyme or reason to it. Except that every damn one had been a good investment. How did you do it?”

“I told you a lot of the people who came to do business with Claire were men, sometimes it was husband and wife, sometimes just a woman. I just sort of learned how to let them know I was playing in the market a little. It’s amazing how much good investment advice they’d give a young man who’d just given then a good dinner with wine and maybe a drink or two. If they made a recommendation about their company, I’d run it past Claire and she’d give me her advice. It got to be a game with her after a while.”

“Well, you must have done something special for her to give you a new car. You didn’t have to service her again, did you?”

“Nope, after the job interview, it was strictly business. I guess she got a kick out of our arrangement. She gave me the car when I helped her acquire a company with a line of clothing she wanted. She said she was prepared to pay a million or so more than she finally had to pay. You’d know the woman if I told you what the line of clothing is. I’ve seen you wear some of the stuff. You look good in it.”

She looked at me for a minute or so. I could almost see the wheels turning as he tried to figure out who it was. Finally she shook her head and a smile crept on her face.

“I don’t believe you screwed her,” she said.

“I don’t know who you’re talking about.”

“She’s tall, really long legs, speaks with a fake Russian accent. Is that the one?”

“Nah, she was short, fat legs, and spoke with a fake Southern accent.”

“I’d like to interview you for a job, Kieran. All you have to do is tell me who it was.”

“Interview me first. If you hire me, I’ll tell you.”

“It’ll require some hard work on your part. Are you up to it?”

“What do you want me to do?”

“Oh, I don’t know. How about just doing whatever it was you did with Claire? Maybe that would satisfy me.”

“I’ll do my best.”

<><><>

After she interviewed me, she hired me. I told her who it was that got me the little red BMW she was driving now. The woman did speak with a fake Russian accent. Siobhan loved the whole idea. She had just one more question for me.

“Why did you stop working, if I can call it that, for Claire?” she finally asked, just as we were curling up for sleep. “I know you were getting your sexual appetite satisfied regularly and being well compensated for it. If I’d done with men the same thing you did I’d have been called an expensive call girl. I might’ve done it anyway if I’d had the right men for clients. I won’t pass judgment on you. But tell me one more thing, why did you quit?”

“Do you remember when you were hired by the company and when you were introduced to me a few days later?”

“Yes, I remember. You had on that tan suit with a blue shirt and a red tie. I would never have thought that color combination would look good on a man but, I’ll admit, you carried it off quite well.”

“I called Claire the same afternoon. I told her I wanted to quit and I told her why.”

“And what was your reason?”

“I told her I’d just met the woman I wanted to marry.” 


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