1 comments/ 44997 views/ 5 favorites Can't Judge a Book by its Cover By: LeCoach It was a blow to my ego to find myself dealing with an online dating service. Lonely Hearts club is what it was. No matter how nice they dressed it up. No one wants to find a partner that way. Hell, there was a time when I could just snap my fingers and... OK, there never was such a time. I always had a hard time talking to women. And an even more difficult time getting them into bed. Women seemed to like me but only "As a friend." Or even worse: As a brother!. So, eventually, after the end of my marriage and a lot of lonely nights, I signed up at this online dating service. "No commitment!" It promised. "Just a coffee date to start out with!" It continued. "Move along at your own pace!" It concluded. Pushing fifty, I was actually more interested in finding a woman I could get along with. For sure I wanted sex and wouldn't be interested in a relationship that didn't include plenty of that but, on a continuous ongoing basis, I was looking for a drama free lady. Someone I could kind of be friends with. Easier said than done, I know. Anyway, I listed my "Interests," being careful to avoid stuff like "Long walks on the Beach" and "Weekends in Santa Barbara" and sent the thing in. I hate being photographed and declined to include a picture. I'm not, you know, really ugly or anything but I just look so much like my Dad these days that it makes me uncomfortable. Sure as you're born I got a couple of hits the first day. One looked kind of interesting too. Rachel was her name. She said she loved music and went to concerts at least once a month. She had been married but had no children and claimed she just wanted a comfortable physical relationship, adding she "Wasn't a gold digger." Good thing. I own a small business but Lord knows, I'm not rich. We contacted each other online and exchanged the obligatory emails. All friendly. I might have goofed up when I mentioned that I was a fan of the Grateful Dead. There's a certain amount of...embarrassment, for lack of a better word, about admitting you're a dead head. People assume you spend every possible moment out gyrating in the sun, taking dope and boogying like there's no tomorrow. I like all kinds of music but when I saw the Dead as a young lad, I was blown away by the level of their musicianship. The ensemble passages they routinely played and played so well. It was like, all the other bands back then were trying to get to a certain musical place...and the Dead were already there! Anyway, Rachel emailed back enthusiastically about her love for the band and asked me if I wanted to attend their upcoming show at the L.A. Sports Arena. I was not sure I wanted to spend an entire "Blind Date" at a Dead show so I countered with, "How 'bout a coffee date...like it said on the website?" So we met after work on a Thursday evening. Rachel agreed to wear a rose in her hair so I would recognize her at the Pantry which is Downtown. Crazy restaurant. "There's always a line! The food must be good!" is what "They Say." Actually it's a dicey neighborhood so you have to get buzzed into the place and they don't let you in unless they're good and ready so, yeah. There's usually a line. Rachel was a good sport about going there and so I was outside, waiting when, at last she walked up. Sporting the Rose in her hair and a vintage Grateful Dead tee shirt. I was...underwhelmed. "She's too young for me." Was my first thought. I know, I know. It sounds crazy cause, the younger the better right? But I was really looking for something more my age this time out. Rachel couldn't have been more than 35. And physically, from what I could see, she was OK. Blue Levis, tennis shoes, the Dead shirt, long black hair. But her face! Maybe it's the pot calling the kettle black here but she had the deep set eyes, set close together, kinda big nose, thin lips...just not my type at all. I couldn't just bag the whole evening so we went in the Pantry and ordered dinner. I know I said just coffee but, hell, it was dinnertime. We waited for our food and, it was awkward to say the least. I was finding it hard to make conversation so Rachel carried the ball the bulk of the time. I kept thinking "I can't picture myself with this woman. She isn't horrible and she seems to have a nice body but...but she's just somebody else's girl, not mine." Midway through the meal, which I was gobbling down hoping to end it as soon as possible, Rachel mentioned that she lived in a loft just a few blocks away. We chatted about what it was like living downtown and she said basically it was fine unless the Lakers won the title in which case it was bedlam! "I love the Lakers." I blurted out. "So do I!" She fired back. And on the went about team. How much she admired Kareem. Loved Chick Hearn. She'd actually met Jerry West once upon a time and Pat Riley was her ultimate heartthrob! Now we were clicking and the conversation started to flow. My dinner was getting cold but I didn't care. She mentioned Kareem's love of jazz and it turned out both of us were deep into Miles Davis and John Coltrane. It was right about then that I noticed her little smile. She shot it once in a while and it was very subtle. Just the corners of her mouth would turn up and this twinkle appeared in her eyes. She would hesitate before speaking as if she had thought of something funny. Rachel was actually kind of pretty if you knew what to look for. So Rachel invited me to see her loft over on Sixth street and I was ready to go. We walked to my truck and I opened the door for her like a gentleman. As I did so, I noticed that her ass was doing a pretty good job of filling out those Levis! It was dark now and Rachel's black hair was shining in the street light. We entered her Loft and it was beautifully furnished. I would call it modern Chinese style with lots of black and red. Wonderful Chinese prints on the walls, and sparse but comfortable furnishing. Rachel went over to the Hi fi unit and put on a vinyl LP of Miles' Kind of Blue. I made my way to the kitchen and quickly cooked up a couple of Martinis while Rachel went to the bedroom to "Change into something more comfortable." Now I was really interested! Her home was not adorned with dozens of Grateful Dead posters, She appeared to have a job and she loved the Lakers. I found myself thinking how quickly I'd made a decision about this woman based solely on her face. What a stupid thing to do. Rachel emerged from the bedroom wearing a black dress. And it looked good on her too. Low cut in front, I could appreciate her womanly breasts with this outfit. And they were pretty big! I'm not a tit man per se and I was thinking about what I checked on the Personal Information page of the dating service. I generally like small busted women but I couldn't remember what I wrote. The only thing I did remember was, it asked if I had any sexual "Kinks" and I wrote "Panties." Rachel sat down next to me and we sipped our cocktails as "So What" filled the room. I've heard that song a million times but somehow, it sounded different that night. My ex-wife had no use for Jazz insisting it "Made no sense." Rachel obviously understood what the musicians were going for when they recorded that tune. We listened silently to Adderly's solo and then, at the end, Paul Chambers wonderful bass line which is so perfect. I was looking into Rachel's eyes during Blue in Green and then we were kissing. Her lips were soft and welcoming. I didn't rush things and we smooched and cuddled for a few minutes as the album played. Rachel got up to turn the record over and when she bent down to do so, her panties were briefly exposed. Oh, just for a nanosecond but I saw her little white panties. She started side two and padded softly back to the sofa. She snuggled up to me and whispered "Did you like what you just saw?" I felt just drunk enough to answer: "I liked it a lot Rachel." We looked into each others eyes for a moment and I was suddenly at a loss for words. Not to worry. Rachel seemed to know what to say. "I put these panties on just for you Matt." She gave me that little smile when she said it. I assumed she had read about my little "Kink" and so I didn't need to apologize or anything. She knew what I liked even beyond Jazz and the Lakers. "Would you like to...touch my panties Matty?" She whispered. I didn't need to be asked twice. My cock jumped when I heard what she'd said and I never spoke but just moved my hand down to her legs. More kissing ensued and I slowly slid my hand up Rachel's leg until I was way at the top of her thighs. I hesitated for just a moment and then grazed my fingers up further until I was touching Rachel's white panties! "Mmmmm...that's nice Matt." She cooed softly in my ear. "Slip your fingers inside the legband." I did as she had requested and then I was touching the smooth pink flesh of Rachel's pussy! I felt her move her legs slightly further apart so I could get a little better feel of her tightly closed lips. "Don't take off my panties Matty!" She told me. I wasn't really close to doing anything like that but I loved it every time she said the word "panties!" I wanted to hear it again and again! "Let me pull down your panties Rachel." I begged. "You know you want me to touch you down there...on your bare pussy!" "Noooo!" She teased. "You can't just strip me naked like I'm your little whore!" Rachel was again giving me that little smile. "I'm a good girl! You can't take off my panties and see my pussy all naked!" I kissed Rachel deeply and stuck my tongue way into her soft warm mouth. She moaned in appreciation as she felt my amorous attack, kissing me back for all she was worth. "I'll...I'll let you look at my panties Matt...but that's all!" With that said, Rachel lifted the hem of her slinky black dress and slowly pulled it up until, at last, she exposed her tight little white panties to my excited eyes! Just simple white cotton bikini panties but my God, the sight of them was causing me to harden like crazy! And the heavy lidded look in her eyes seemed to promise more! I glanced down and you could just barely make out her black pubic hair through the thin fabric of her panties. "I know you're a good girl Rachel." I told her with at least some sincerity. "And I don't need to take off your panties tonight." I watched for her expression as I added, "How about some Chet Baker? Got anything by him?" Rachel caught my drift and went over to the record rack where she looked for a moment and then pulled "My funny valentine" out and then knelt down to put the record on. She looked back at me mischievously and then reached back and lifted her dress to expose her panty clad ass! The shapely black haired girl took her time setting the needle and wiggled her butt a couple of times before returning to the sofa where I waited. "You're lookin' good honey!" I told her. I kissed her again and reached around to unzip her pretty black dress. Rachel offered only token resistance before allowing me to tug down the zipper and free her breasts. They were magnificent! I gave an involuntary gasp when I finally saw Rachel's tits and she smiled at my reaction. Thinking about it later I realized that Rachel is one of those women who just plain look a lot better out of their clothes than they do dressed. Her big ripe tits were capped by delicate pink nipples. No sag whatsoever when she moved. Just a bit of jiggle which I found to be wildly exciting.They were a handful that's for sure. I managed to slip the black dress off of her body which left my date dressed only in her little white cotton panties. I pulled Rachel to me and gently slid my hand down to fondle her pussy through her panties as she moaned horsely into my ear. "Oh Matty, Don't take off my panties! You can...you can suck on my nipples but please don't pull down my little panties!" Again she kept saying that word "Panties." And she was getting to me...big time! I needed no further encouragement and went after those big firm titties right away, locking my lips on her nipple and immediately feeling it harden in my mouth. "Oh that's it Matty!" she gasped. "Suck my nipples while you feel up my...my pussy! I took that as an invitation and stole my hand beneath the waistband of Rachel's panties. She had shaved the lips bare but left a patch of pubic hair just above. I had to see her pussy! I just had to! "Let me see your pussy Rachel!" I pleaded. "I won't take your panties off but please honey! Please let me see it!" I ran my forefinger right over her now very wet pussy lips and then pushed into her desire swollen hole. Rachel buried her face in my shoulder as she allowed this intimate contact and then whispered in my ear. "You stay here, OK? I'll...I'll let you see." With Chet now singing "Let's get lost," Rachel moved to a small mahogany chair with red tufted upholstery that sat across the room. She sat on the chair and eyed me to be sure I was paying attention...like I was going to look away now! She then reached down and slowly pulled the legband to one side and completely exposed her tight little pussy to me! My black haired blind date looked down at her pussy and then up at me. She moved her finger down and lightly teased herself as I watched. I felt the time had come and stood to remove my pants. Rachel watched me as I did so and, when my now furiously erect penis came into view she seemed pleased. I remembered her comment on the Information page of the website about wanting a "Physical relationship." Well, she was about to get it from me. I stroked my cock a bit as Rachel watched and then she climbed off the chair. She turned around and then knelt on the seat, putting her world class rear end on display. Knowing she had me now, Rachel reached back and began to roll her panties down to show me all of her ass. Wow! Easily the best ass I've ever seen! Not fat mind you, just all plump and ripe and ready to be spanked! I had all kinds of lewd thoughts going through my mind right about then but Rachel took the bull by the horns. "Come over here Matt." She quietly said. I was there in an instant and began to run my hands over her butt enjoying the silky smooth feel of her flesh. I slid my fingers over her little dime sized asshole on my way to her now glistening pussy lips. She was good and horny too now and I took hold of the waistband of her panties and began to pull them down. "No! Please, No Matt! Don't take off my panties! You can have me any way you want but don't strip me all naked!" She pleaded. I was now over the top excited by all of Rachel's teasing and unable to wait much longer for release. I knew she wanted to be fucked so I took hold of her hand and dragged it to my cock. She eagerly grasped it and moaned when she felt just how thick and hard it was. "Put it where ever you want it Rachel." I told her. Then I waited to see what she would do. Chet Baker was singing "Like someone in Love" when Rachel drew my prick right into the valley of her splendid rear cheeks. She touched it momentarily to the slippery lips of her pussy before lifting it up to the tightly closed hole of her anus. My eyes widened in surprise but I gave her no chance to back out. I began to apply pressure to Rachel's little asshole until I felt it begin to cave in. And then...gloriously I surged into her ass! "Oh Matty!" Rachel gasped in protest, "Don't fuck my asshole! Oh please no!" "Well then take off your panties and I'll stick it in your pussy honey." I shot back, all the while forcing more and more of my hardon into her incredibly tight asshole. "Not...not my panties!" She wailed. "Oh...Oh go ahead then! fuck my little asshole! fuck it good Matty! Shove it all the way in there!" I did just that. Pushing harder and harder I finally managed to root myself right to the balls in Rachel's teasing little asshole and I gasped in pleasure when I realized how completely I now had her. "Rub...your...pussy...with...your ...panties Rachel." I told her as I fucked into her ass over and over. "Not...not in front of you Matt!" She complained. "Don't make me...masturbate right in front of you!" I continued to bury every inch of my cock in Rachel's poor little asshole as I felt her fingers now working just below, teasing her panties into her pussy flesh. "Oh Matty, It's...It's so nasty!" And that it was. We'd only met a few hours ago and here we were in her loft, Rachel virtually naked except for her useless little panties, my cock plundering her defenseless little asshole while she did her best to pleasure herself with her fingers. I knew I was going to come and very soon now. I reached around to Rachel's nipples and got a good feel of them as I continued to sodomize her. "You've got a hot little asshole Rachel," I confessed. "You're something babe!" "Damn right I am Matty!" Rachel smiled. It was as if she was waiting to hear that. "Now go ahead and fuck my asshole hard and deep and, when you're ready to come, come all over my nasty little panties!" There it was again...that word that seemed to short circuit all of my senses. "Her panties!" I thought to myself "She wants hot come in her panties! Well OK baby, here it comes!" I poured everything I had into a dozen or more ball jarring strokes and then jerked my erupting penis from the depths of Rachel's forever stretched asshole and began to spurt sticky jizz right into her panties! "Oooo Matty!" Rachel called to me, "That's it...come on my panties! Give me all you've got now! Wet my panties with your creamy hot sperm!" It was one of those orgasms that, for the next half hour or so, my cock would occasionally twitch from the intensity of the experience. I held Rachel until Chet was through and then we listened to "Sketches of Spain" and had a glass of wine. We talked until dawn. I don't know if it would be accurate to say that I "Love" Rachel. I'm also pretty sure she doesn't feel that way about me either. Maybe love like that is for younger people. But we seem to scratch each other's itches. We have a great time together on our "Dates" and I don't bother looking for anyone else on that website. I guess you can be lucky in this life. Can't Judge a Book by its Cover This story was written in response to a challenge on another site. Please enjoy my take on the theme "Females For Hire". * Hillary sat on the bench outside the courtroom that Monday morning. She tugged at her skirt, trying to make it appear longer. She tucked stray tendrils of hair back into her casual chignon. Hillary was nervous and it showed. Even though everyone told her that she had an absolute barracuda for a lawyer, she still had nightmares as to how this would all turn out. Yes, Will had verbally agreed to the settlement, but he had also verbally taken vows on their wedding day. Hillary's trust level was at an all-time low. She thought back to that horrible afternoon. Will told her he had an appointment with a prospective vendor. There was no traffic at their printing shop; that was just the way the business went. Hillary decided to close up an hour and a half early, head home and fix a really nice dinner for the two of them. It was sort of a celebratory dinner, because their shop was finally running in the black, allowing them to receive regular paychecks. "That's odd," she thought, seeing Will's car in the driveway. "I could have sworn he said he would be home before me, but not until five o' clock." Thinking that he may have chosen to take a nap, she quietly let herself into their small two-story home, took off her shoes and tip-toed upstairs. In her wildest dreams, she never thought she would witness her best friend, Krystal, leaning over her husband, sucking his cock. Will's hands were in Krystal's hair as she bobbed up and down, completely naked in Hillary's bed. Will's eyes were closed as he panted, "God, yeah babe....just like that. Shit, Krystal, no one has ever sucked me off like you. Close....so close....get ready...." Krystal increased her pace and then suddenly took Will deep into her throat and became still. Will's hips rose, as if to force more of himself into her mouth, while he held her head down on him. Hillary could hear Krystal gag as she swallowed his cum. When Will removed his hand from her hair and Krystal released his deflating cock, he pulled her into his arms so that she was straddling him and gave her a passionate kiss. "I love our afternoons, babe," Will said, looking into her eyes and squeezing her round ass. "These rendezvous are too few and far between. We really have to make some more time for each other." Hillary steadied her voice and said, "I don't think that'll be an issue." She turned around, calmly walked down the stairs and went to the company van. As she got in, she noticed Krystal's Honda parked on the opposite side of the street. Hillary later testified that as she was backing out of her driveway, a young child on a bike came out of nowhere, forcing her to back into Krystal's car. Krystal never said a word. Hillary drove to her brother's house, barely managing to tell him what happened before becoming hysterical. Jerry called Will and told him he had until seven o'clock the next morning to get all of his shit out of their house, or he would find himself in a wheelchair. What little sleep Hillary got that night was interrupted by dreams. In some of them she saw herself dressed up like a hunter in the woods, tracking Will and putting his head on the wall like a trophy. In others she was making love to her husband. She dreamed he was sucking her nipples; she could feel his hot breath on her skin. Her hands ran up and down his rock hard body, while her hips began to move. There was no mistaking the wetness caused by his cock pressing against her hole and his need for her. Will raised up his body to push inside. Hillary felt him entering her and she welcomed the intrusion. Will's eyes were closed and he called her name, "Krystal." When she woke up the next morning, Hillary felt like she had been hit by a truck. Her eyes were puffy with dark circles underneath. She leaned forward to look in the mirror, searching for any sign of white in her eyes, which were red from crying. Her broken heart caused her chest to physically ache. She had loved Will with everything she had, but obviously it wasn't enough. The other Hillary may have stood by her Bill after finding out about his affair with Monica, but this Hillary would never forgive Will and Krystal for what they had done. It was over, and she would have to move on. Still waiting for her lawyer, Hillary tried not to remember when she and Will first met and fell in love. Hillary was working as a paralegal in an up and coming law firm. Will had come in to drop off some papers from his parents. There was immediate chemistry between the two, and in a very short time they were living together. It was Will who came up with the idea to start the business, Iron Press. Women were still considered a minority, so obtaining government support for being a minority business owner was easy. Hillary's background as a paralegal, combined with her studies in business administration, made her the brains behind the brawn. Will had an art background and had worked in a print shop from the time he was sixteen. Their strengths made them a winning combination and soon they were ready for their maiden voyage as the new business in town. They had worked hard to transform a small storefront on Main Street. It had a modern loft appearance, but Hillary's feminine touches kept it from feeling cold and unwelcoming. On the day of their grand opening, most of the shop owners on the street came down to meet the couple and to encourage them. It was while the shop was filled with well-wishers that Will got down on one knee and asked Hillary to marry him. A small ceremony, for just family, followed shortly. Hillary had a very good feeling about being accepted into this small business community. With hard work, she hoped they would be turning a respectable profit in less than three years. To help off-set their lack of income, she continued to free-lance as a paralegal. That was how she met her barracuda, Maureen. Looking down at her watch again, Hillary wondered if something had delayed the proceedings. Jerry wanted to come with her today, but she had told him it probably wouldn't take too long. The sound of the elevator stopping and footsteps on the marble floor caused her to look up. With his hips swaying and his hands waving, Dale came walking toward her. "Girl, why didn't you call and tell me you would be here alone? I ran into your brother at Starbucks and he told me you would be here," Dale said, planting a kiss on each of Hillary's cheeks. She smiled as she looked at her flamboyantly gay friend and hair stylist. "I didn't think it would take long and I didn't want to bother anyone." "Honey, you know I don't work on Mondays. Lord child, who did your hair this morning?" Dale's southern diva was coming out now. At six feet tall, this large, mocha-colored man looked like he should be playing football. Instead, he was one of the most popular hair and make-up stylists in town. 'Every girl should have at least one gay friend', Hillary thought. They didn't mind shopping and had impeccable taste, although you couldn't tell that by Dale's outfit. He wore tight gold pants, a tangerine colored net top and a white denim jacket. He completed his look with black heels and diamond earrings. There was nothing masculine about him at all, but that didn't matter to Hillary; he had a heart of gold and arms that gave great hugs. "I wish I knew what was holding things up," Hillary said. "You are so lucky you walked in on him and that slutty friend of yours," Dale responded. "Can you imagine how horrible your life would have been if this affair had continued without you knowing it?" The courtroom doors opened and Maureen, the barracuda, came out. With a big smile on her face, she handed Hillary the signed papers she had been hoping to receive. "Signed, sealed and delivered, Hillary. This is the kind of outcome I wish for all of my clients. Thank goodness you found out about them. Your ex-husband didn't dare put up a fight. Too many times wives have no proof of their husbands' infidelities. Now, this check will be held until it clears, but you are free to start your new life with a nice little nest egg," the lawyer boasted. "Any ideas?" Hillary's hands trembled as she looked at the papers. "I don't know. Keep doing paralegal work, I guess. I really don't know which way to turn." "Well, if you'd like to set up shop in my office, I'd love to have you. I think we worked well together these past few months and it would be a pleasure to add you to our practice," Maureen said, earnestly. Hillary began to rebuild her life. Part of her agreement with Will was that he would change the name of the business. Still, it hurt to see the little shop on Main Street every day when she went to work. She enjoyed working in Maureen's office. Everyone got along well and no one was afraid of working long hours to help a client. Maureen had quite a reputation for getting wives what they deserved, so it seemed that the cases were never-ending. Hillary was shocked to hear one of Maureen's clients crying out as she left the office. "It's not fair! I know he's cheating and you tell me there's nothing I can do! I can't live like this!" Hillary's heart went out to the young woman she watched going to her car and fumbling with her keys. She went out to see if she could help her; that's when the flood-gates really opened. In a matter of minutes, she was filled in on the suspicions Lynne had about her husband. "I don't know what to do. I don't know where to turn. I can't afford a private detective, so how can I get proof he's fooling around on me? If I follow him, he'll see me," Lynne cried. That's how it started. Maybe it wasn't the most logical thing Hillary had ever come up with, but she was the sort of person who was always watching out for the underdog. Without thinking things through, she offered to follow Lynne's husband and take pictures, supplying the proof Lynne so desperately needed. "Are you crazy?" Dale yelled at Hillary when she told him of her plans over dinner. "Do you have any idea how to take pictures and not be seen? And what if he catches you? Is he a violent man?" "Dale, if he were violent, Lynne would have cause to divorce him. It'll be fine. Besides, how hard can it be to take pictures? I'll blend in to the woodwork," she said, not very convincingly. "Then let me come with you," he pleaded. "Dale, seriously, do you really think you would blend into the woodwork?" Hillary smiled at her rhetorical question. Later that night, Hillary did a Google search of "taking pictures in low lighting" and found the exact information she needed. She wrote down the best digital cameras that would also be easy for her to operate. She learned how the ISO factors into the quality of the picture. The last thing she needed was for a flash to go off while she was trying to get proof that Lynne's husband was seeing another woman. After a quick stop at Best Buy, she would be all ready to go that weekend. Late Saturday night, Dale guessed what had happened when he opened his door that night and saw Hillary standing there. The tear stains were visible on her face, her hair was disheveled and she looked like she had slept in her clothes. When she walked through the door and into his arms, Dale saw she was limping, due to a broken heel on her shoe. He was smart enough not to talk until she had stopped crying. If Hillary had been worried about Dale blending into the woodwork, she should have taken a good look at herself. In a tough bar like the Tumble Inn, she had dressed too professionally. Lynne's husband, Roy, had kept an eye on Hillary as soon as he saw her car following him. He was at the bar with one of the many girls that hung out there, looking very cozy, when out of the corner of his eye he saw Hillary's camera. Roy hadn't exactly struck Hillary but when he walked up to her, she moved away, ending up with her back against the wall. Her new camera was smashed on the floor and then he began to yell. Besides having to endure the noise and the odor of beer and cigarettes on his breath, Hillary was acutely aware that Roy was being urged on by the gathering crowd. Afraid he would get physical with her, Hillary gave him a mighty shove and raced out to her car, breaking her heel in the process. She didn't know where she was heading, until she ended up at Dale's. "I don't want to do the I Told You So Dance, but you know you deserve to see it. Hill, you're no private eye. You may be very intelligent, but you don't have any street-smarts," Dale said quietly. "I need to help her; he's a mean man who is out with other women! I know what it's like to have been cheated on and there should be a way for women to get help without it costing an arm and a leg!" she exclaimed. Dale thought for a minute and then asked, "Are you sure this is something you want to do? After the roughing up you've had? And if you're going to charge for this service, you're going to need training and help. Tell you what, if you run the business, I'll help you." That was the one thing that made Hillary smile. She loved Dale for his offer, but still couldn't help but think that she stood a better chance at spying than he did. "I know what you're thinking, and it doesn't hurt my feelings. I've got some people that can help you out. Trust me; these girls won't take crap from anyone. Some of them have been cheated on, so I think they'll jump at the chance to help out another," Dale got up and began posing. "Just like Charlie's Angels, girlfriend!" Hillary agreed to meet Dale at his hair salon a few nights later. She waited for him to unlock the door and usher her inside. Sitting at some of the stations were three of the most beautiful women Hillary had ever seen. Dale introduced her to each one of them. Anita was a petite woman with a breathy voice. In Hillary's opinion she sounded a bit like Charo, and looked just as flashy in a red sequined jump suit. Her hair was dyed blonde and piled high on her head. She had big brown eyes, incredible eye lashes and full, red lips. "Eet's so nice to meet chu," she said, giving Hillary a kiss on the cheek. Wylene was next. She was every bit as tall as Dale, and then her stilettos added another four inches. She was the color of creamy hot chocolate, with black hair cut about an inch long all over, styled in a very short Afro. Hillary felt like a midget next to the woman whose legs seemed to stretch up to her armpits. Her voice was smooth as silk, low and sensual, and her green eyes reminded Hillary of a cat. "How do you do?" she asked Hillary, not really needing an answer. The last woman was named Kathy. She was a few inches taller than Hillary, but a whole lot curvier. Her red hair hung loose around her shoulders and her blue eyes sparkled with excitement. Hillary wasn't quite expecting the low husky voice that came out of the pretty woman's mouth. "Mmmm, you are a sweetheart, aren't you?" Kathy said. "Just like Dale told us." Hillary looked up at Dale, wondering just what he had told these women. Why would he think that these women would be any better at fighting off a bully like Roy than she had been? Within minutes, she found out exactly why. Dale stood off to the side and did a Vanna White impression with his arms. "Hillary, these females are for hire," he said as he turned to the three. "Girls?" While Hillary watched, her mouth opened in utter shock as shoes were kicked off and wigs, dresses and lingerie suddenly began flying around the room. When the frenzy of clothes stopped, she stood looking at three shirtless men, all of whom were grinning at her. She couldn't believe what had just happened. Anita started to laugh and then said, in perfect English, "Dale, I believe she's a bit surprised!" Wylene and Kathy high-fived each other and Dale stood back and giggled like a girl. "I.....what......Dale?" Hillary stuttered. "I don't understand." Dale calmed down enough to explain, "These are my friends Andy, Wayne and Kurt. They're performers at the Purple Haze. When I told them about you and your idea, they thought they could be the ones to help you." "Purple Haze? Isn't that the ......" Hillary started to question. "It's not a gay club, if that's what you're thinking," he answered. "Even though it is a show of female impersonators they aren't all gay. Wayne is married and a teacher. Andy's a flight attendant and performs here when he's in town and Kurt...." "Kurt is just a normal guy," Kurt said. He put out his had to shake Hillary's and continued, "I'm a purchasing agent nine to five; this I just do for fun. And before you ask, I don't have a wife to tell and yes, my family knows about my love for entertaining. It's not exactly what they would have chosen, but they deal with it." When he wasn't wearing the long red-wig, Kurt's sandy-blonde hair was cut close to his head. Without women's clothing, she could now see that he was trim with a bit of muscle. Hillary felt her heart pick up the pace a bit. The group moved their meeting to Dale's condo. Over drinks, Hillary told the story of Lynne, and of Hillary's encounter with Roy. Everyone started talking at once, tossing ideas around, until Hillary couldn't process anymore. "Would you all wait?" she exclaimed, standing up to make herself heard. "I don't know when this became a business with paychecks, and fees, and insurances. I wanted to help out a woman who needed it. I never planned on following husbands on a regular basis. I have a full-time job, you know." Wayne spoke first, "We all have full-time jobs, but each one of us has had something happen that makes us want to help these women. For me, my sister was dominated by a man who cheated. She couldn't prove it and when he divorced her, she lost almost everything." "My reasons are completely different," Andy offered. "I've been hit on by more men when I'm in drag, and they don't realize I'm a man. When they talk about their wives, you realize they don't deserve a partner in life, they need a housekeeper and a whore." Kurt lowered his eyes and spoke quietly, "My father used to beat my mother, then go out every weekend and sleep around. She was tied to him for life....his life. One night he got drunk when he was out and crashed the car into a tree. The woman he was with sued the estate and my mom ended up paying all of the woman's medical bills. She's still trying to recover financially, as well as mentally. As for me, a friend spotted my wife with another man at the local bar. I paid an arm and a leg to get the proof I needed to divorce her." Each of these men had their own reasons for wanting to help, but Hillary wasn't sure it was enough. This was not something that you undertook on a whim. She knew she hadn't been prepared. What made them think that they were? Dale offered up more incentive, saying "I can't begin to tell you about all the women who sit in my salon, crying. It's a cruel world out there, and they really don't know where to turn. They'd talk to a woman or me before some guy behind a desk smoking a cigar. If we can help them and not charge an unrealistic fee, why shouldn't we?" "Why? Do you remember what happened to me? That's why! I refuse to be responsible for anyone ending up in the hospital," Hillary cried out. "What you don't know about us is that we were all in the Army together," Wayne said. "Trust me when I tell you that we'll be fine." This was the beginning for Hillary and the boys, sitting around discussing how they could test out the new business. She had her doubts, but they didn't. She looked at the three friends, so different, yet so much alike. Hillary decided she would talk to Maureen about it, as soon as possible. Can't Judge a Book by its Cover Maureen had her own reservations about the venture, mainly because of the legalities. Although no fees had been discussed, she liked the idea of being able to offer this type of assistance from her office. She held a meeting for her staff, along with Hillary's group, and reviewed the definition of entrapment. "In many jurisdictions, entrapment is a possible defense against criminal liability. However, there is no entrapment where a person is ready and willing to break the law. In no way, shape or form are you to induce these men into doing something they would not normally do. Do not solicit them; let them come to you," Maureen instructed. She also wasn't sure these "females" would be able to fool the average man until she saw their pictures. Andy, Wayne and Kurt then discussed strategies and additional tools they felt would be beneficial. The practice agreed to purchase a mini spy-cam in a watch, a car key that contained a hidden camera that had both video and still photo capabilities, and a mini digital voice recorder. Hillary couldn't believe that Maureen was willing to front the thousand dollars needed to supply recorded proof of indiscretions. When the "spy" equipment arrived, Hillary invited everyone over to her small apartment for a night of training. She had every intention of being a part of any job they accepted. She watched as Wayne and Kurt practiced surveillance on Andy and Dale. She could see that Andy would be very convincing as a femme fatale. Hillary called Lynne's cell phone and left a message asking her to call, without leaving any details. Dale called Hillary a couple of days later and asked if he could send one of his clients over to talk to her. Hillary had been thinking about taking a break for lunch, so she agreed to meet with the woman. She was surprised when a very smartly-dressed businesswoman arrived at the offices. "Normally," Gwen explained, after introductions were exchanged, "I would hire a private investigator, but that's exactly what Bradley will be expecting. He's going to be very careful to make sure no man is following him around as he meets these women. When Dale and I talked, he suggested that I come see you. He said that you have something that the others don't." Gwen leaned against the back of the office chair and crossed her very long legs. The cool gray-eyed blonde was in her mid-forties and obviously fed-up with the actions of her husband. This woman meant business. "Well, I'm not sure about that," Hillary said. "But I will tell you what we have to offer. We are a team of females who place ourselves in the same vicinity as the men we are asked to observe. We will not approach, we will not solicit and we will not do anything to break the law. Only after we are approached will we make contact. What we will offer you is pictures and vocal recordings of his public indiscretions. If you're expecting pictures of him in sexual acts, then I think you need to go elsewhere." "Will it be enough?" Gwen asked. "I want to make the bastard squirm." "A lot of that depends on the actions of your husband, and how long it takes him to make a move on one of our operatives. I'm no lawyer, but I believe we will at least be able to provide evidence of intent. That may go a long way in your negotiations." Hillary took careful notes on the information Gwen supplied. There were names of bars and clubs he frequented, as well as copies of credit card bills she had obtained, giving a profile of his activities. After Gwen left, Hillary sent e-mails out to the guys and asked if they could meet with her the next night. Each man quickly reviewed the dossier Hillary had compiled and then they all started talking at once. The three "girls" and Dale started making plans, leaving Hillary out of the conversation entirely. "Whoa, whoa, whoa! Hellooooo....it's me, the leader of the pack, so to speak. Don't any of you think that this is going to happen without me," Hillary yelled in frustration. There was a stunned silence as four sets of eyes looked at the woman who had stood up and pounded her fist on the table. In her pink blouse, gray skirt and sensible shoes, wearing next to no make-up and her dark hair put up in a loose bun at the nape of her neck, Hillary more closely resembled a young, sweet kindergarten teacher than a businesswoman. Andy and Wayne just sort of looked away while Kurt discreetly cleared his throat. Dale had never been shy about speaking his mind. "Sweetie, would you look at yourself? I would fit in better than you," he said, standing up and putting his hand on his hip. "Girl, I can sashay with the best of them." That evoked a couple of "uh huh's" and an "amen" from the rest of the guys. Dale almost regretted what he said when he saw Hillary's forlorn look. He never meant to hurt his friend. He walked over and put his big linebacker arms around her. "If you insist on being a part of this, sweetie, you'll have to put yourself in our hands and let us help you look the part, okay? You just come by the salon after work tomorrow night; we'll begin then." Hillary looked up at Dale with her chestnut-colored eyes and nodded. Nothing could ever have prepared Hillary for her visit to Dale's salon the next night. She almost felt violated while she was waxed, plucked, washed, cut, colored, glued, curled and polished. Andy literally squealed when he saw the finished product, then took her hand and led her to the back of the shop to change, before she could even peek at herself. "Trust me; I know this dress will fit you. We're just about the same size, well, when I'm wearing my bra," he said, helping her with the zipper. Hillary was transformed from an attractive, but plain young lady, to a modern, sassy woman. When Andy led her back to the others, they stared in silence, with their mouths opened. He stood behind her, with his hands on her shoulders, and turned her to face the full length mirror. Hillary had the same expression on her face as did the others. She was shocked to see the woman looking back at her. The woman in the mirror had short brunette hair, with red high-lights. It been precision cut so that the new style was short, soft, with lots of movement. It framed her face which had also been transformed. Hillary's eyes were accented by some false eyelashes, almost giving her a "Twiggy" look. Her pouty lips were stained with a natural coral color and shined with gloss. She wore a bronze-colored strapless dress, short enough to make her shapely legs appear to go on forever in her stilettos. Hillary was stunning. "Oh my," she whispered. "Dale," Wayne began, "do you think you have time in your schedule to see my wife?" Hillary was smiling warmly at Wayne, when Kurt came to stand before her. "You, my dear, are breathtaking," he said. "I don't know what to say," Hillary said to Dale. "You make me feel like Cinderella." "Just call me Fairy Godmother, girl! I have to say, I have outdone myself," Dale said proudly. Andy chimed in, "All I can say is that we had better step up our games, if we're going to look anywhere near as good as Hillary tomorrow night." The plan was set. Dale wasn't able to join them, so "Kathy" and Hillary would sit together on one side of the bar, while "Anita" sat opposite them and "Wylene" on the third side of the bar. Bradley Weston had a reputation for preferring women of color. The rumor was that Latinas or African-Americans were his first choices, and tonight he would have options. Anita was all glammed up, wearing a shimmery gold sequined dress with little spaghetti straps. Her hair was tied high on her head and flowed down her back. She giggled and flirted with any man who stopped by to talk to her. Wylene, on the other hand, was smoldering in a tight, knee-length black dress, slit almost all the way up to her waist. Her red shoes caught the light as she crossed her legs, while sitting on the bar stool. She was alone, rejecting any attempts by admirers to get to know her better. Only one man would be successful, if he chose her. Her green eyes scoured the bar, looking for her mark. Kathy and Hillary sat together, chatting and sipping their pink Tequila Rose drinks. The alcohol content was low enough and, because they intended to nurse those same drinks all night, there was no threat of intoxication. Kathy wore her hair up and her blue dress matched her eyes, perfectly. Her slender fingers toyed with the car keys, sitting on the bar in front of them. She was poised to turn the camera on as soon as Bradley arrived. The bass of the music vibrated the bar, while dancers gyrated on the lighted floor. Kathy and Hillary were almost hypnotized by the dancers' movements when they saw Bradley walk in front of them. He walked past Wylene, but not without admiring her exposed leg. He appeared to be on a mission, and Anita was definitely the target. Bradley may have disappointed his wife most of the time, but not tonight. He was completely predictable when he moved in on Anita. To her credit, her purrs immediately had him swarming her, like a moth to a flame. Kathy was intent on catching every move on film when this big bruiser of a man came up beside her and asked to buy her a drink. "No thank you," she said. "As you can see, I still have a drink." "If you drink that right down, you'll need another. Come on you sweet thing, loosen up some and have a drink on me." "I don't believe you heard me," Kathy said, trying to keep her voice soft. "No thank you." This guy was determined. "Little lady, I could show you things your mama never told you about," he said, running one finger down Kathy's arm, only to have it slapped away by the person who came up behind him. "What the hell do you think you're doing with my wife?" Hillary asked in a firm tone, and then faced Kathy. "For God's sake, what were you thinking? I thought we were celebrating our anniversary, and this is how you act?" Kathy was startled, "Baby, no....he wouldn't leave me alone. Please, come here." Hillary moved between the two of them and was surprised when Kathy pulled her in for a kiss. The night was almost forgotten as the two allowed themselves to explore each other's mouth. Their passion was interrupted by the large man next to them exhaling. "Wow," he said, barely audible above the music. "Hey, would you ladies be up for a threesome? I know I am!" The girls looked at him in disbelief, glanced at his pants and burst into laughter. He chose to walk away, feeling a little less than adequate. Hillary turned back to Kathy and asked, "What just happened?" "You found a reason to kiss me, that's what happened," she replied. "But what does that mean?" Hillary questioned. The straight-faced reply was, "You're a lesbian." Wylene came up to the pair and asked, "What happened to Anita? She was talking to Bradley when I left for the bathroom and now they're both gone!" "What the hell? Come on, they have to be around here some place," Kathy said, leaping to her feet. The three split up and were able to cover the club in a matter of minutes. Anita and Bradley were nowhere in sight. Wylene stopped to talk to the bouncer who thought he saw them head to the parking lot. The three girls rushed out to see if they could find them. They stepped lightly, not wanting the click, click, click of their heels to give them away. It was Kathy who heard Anita before she saw her. "Oh Chico, you taste so good," Anita's muffled voice sounded from behind the Escalade parked in the far corner of the lot. "Come on, chu beeg strong man; let mama have your hot love juice." The trio tip-toed around the side of the SUV to see Anita on her knees sucking Bradley's half-hard cock and massaging his balls. With his pants down to his knees and his head back, Bradley was concentrating so hard on feeling good, he never saw the girls with their hidden cameras. Hillary, Kathy and Wylene waited inside the club for Anita to finish up and join them. There was no mistaking the message the smile on her face was giving; that and her licking her lips as she approached them. "I think we're done, girls. I trust you got the pics you needed," Anita said. "I'm not very comfortable with what just happened. I didn't want us to have to get pictures like that," said Hillary. "It's not my fault," Anita insisted while trying to look wide-eyed and innocent. "He wanted to show me his car and then he whipped out his cock. What kind of guy would I be if I didn't take full advantage of the situation? Besides, his wife got more than she'll need to take him to the cleaners." Kathy drove Hillary home that night. They sat under the street light, trying to make small talk, deftly avoiding the subject of the kiss. "Look," they both said at once. "You go," Hillary said. "No, you go," Kurt said, removing Kathy's wig and leaving her behind. "Look, Kurt," Hillary began to explain, "I'm really attracted to you. I even like your taste in women's clothing, but I'm not sure I'm ready to start anything. I just got out of a marriage where I found my husband with my best friend. I'm not sure if I'm ready to trust again." Kurt cupped Hillary's face in his hands and gently kissed her lips. "No pressure, no demands, but would you consider going out with me?" he asked, looking hopeful. "Yeah," she said. "I'd like that." A chaste kiss good-night and Hillary went into her apartment to upload the pictures into her client's file. A few weeks later, Gwen stopped by to see Hillary and report on the meeting she had with her husband. Bradley did his best to deny ever having been with a woman, and Gwen accepted what he said. Then she showed him proof that he had been with a man. Suddenly, he began to see things her way. Gwen showed her generosity by giving Hillary's team a bonus, and hiring Maureen as her lawyer. Hillary had never forgotten the young wife whose plight initiated the idea of this new venture. Nor had she forgotten her embarrassing run-in with Lynne's husband, Roy. She knew she had to make things right. Roy never recognized Hillary, the next time they met. Dale and Wayne kept a close eye on her while she let Roy try to pick her up. Hillary assumed they had enough proof when he asked her how much she charged. She gave him a throaty laugh and stood up to leave. "Baby, you're not going to be able to afford me," she said over her shoulder. It just goes to show; you can't always judge a book by its cover.