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Billie

By: jimewest



TABLE OF CONTENTS/ OUTLINE

Chapter

1. Billie -- The Virgin Co-Ed - The proposition

2. Kelli Gets Involved -- A deal is struck

3. Innocence Lost

4. She loves it!

5. Christmas Break -- The trip home - Bill, Jr. and Bill, Sr.

6. More Frat Boys

7. Her Professor

8. Her Boss

9. Men, Men, and MORE Men

10. Plans after graduation

Chapter 1 -- The Virgin Co-Ed

Billie looked adorable ... and she knew it. Her petite 20-year-old frame swung from the hips as she glided across campus in her practiced, modified model's walk that she had been practicing since she was a teen, one foot directly in front of the other. Her cute little bubble-butt under her green plaid pleated tartan skirt worked in an opposite rhythm from her long auburn pony-tail that hung down almost to her waist, as the pony-tail swung left, her skirt-tail moved right, and back and forth.

Billie knew the effect she had on men, and she enjoyed it. Her 5'-0" height and 100 lb body was a trim 34B-18-32, coupled with an elfin face, lips that would have looked pouty from their sensuous fullness, if they weren't almost always shaped in a smile, hazel eyes that changed colors according to her mood, from green, as they were today, to grey when sad, to brown when peaceful and satisfied. Except for her more pronounced curves, she was the same size she was at 15...but what a difference the curves made! Her B-cup boobs, usually unencumbered by a bra, since they stood straight out in front of her, jiggled lightly under her soft, fuzzy green sweater. In the words of the old Bob Segar song "Night Moves" -- "She had points of her own, sittin' way up firm and high."

Combined with her cute little bubble-butt, Billie's boobs gave the impression that she came at you tits first, and left butt last.

Today, walking across campus, she turned a lot of heads, and noticed most of them, and gave each a smile and pleasant "Hi!", or "Hello!" or "Good Afternoon!" which it was on the small campus at Central State. Billie is a senior, and having spent 3 ½ yrs at Central, knew most of the professors and students she met. Being on a small campus down south was something Billie was grateful for. Back home in Illinois, December was cold, icy, and unpleasant, especially in the small frame two-bedroom shack she had to share with her mom, dad, and younger brother when she was home. She had gotten a small scholarship, and enrolled in a work-study program that helped pay her tuition, books, room and board, and even gotten a part-time job at a Boutique for spending money, most of which she spent on clothes. 

She was on her way to the Sigma Epsilon Chi fraternity house on the edge of campus, to ask for their help and endorsement for the Miss Central State contest to be held in the spring, as it was every year. Billie wanted the honor more than anything she could remember. "Just think of it," she'd enthused just last night to her roommate Kelli, "to be crowned Miss Central State, and have your picture in the yearbook, and a coronation, and a ball in your honor!"

Kelli had agreed, adding, "It doesn't look too shabby on a resume, either."

Sigma Epsilon Chi was the first -- and only -- fraternity on campus in the fledgling Greek system that they had begun only 3 years ago. There were also two sororities on campus, both of which would certainly be nominating their own candidates for Miss Central State, and vying for the help of the fraternity to get elected. As the only fraternity on a commuter campus (most of the students drove back and forth to the city) Billie knew the Sig Eps were the key to winning the contest, especially for a girl who lived in the college dormitory. Kelli, acting as her campaign manager, already had the support of the dorm girls, but that wasn't going to be enough to win.

She just had to get the Sig Eps to help, she just had to!

With the sororities votes split for two candidates, Billie had the dorm girl's votes, and most of the dorm boys, who would vote for a dorm girl over a snotty, stuck-up sorority sister. All she had to do was smile, be friendly, and flirt a little, which was her natural personality anyway. She and Kelli figured the frat boys vote would wrap up the contest, unless they supported one or the other sororities entries. Most of the commuters didn't bother to get involved, or to even vote in campus elections.

So her heart was soaring as she floated across campus on her tiny size 4 white Nikes.

As she entered the sidewalk up to the Sigma Epsilon Chi house, Billie stopped a moment and turned her head to the side to line up the vertical walls of the frat house, which everyone called the "Tiltin' Hilton", because of a decided tilt the house had to the northwest corner.

Patrick Reed, the frat president, who had been following Billie across campus, and enjoying the view, caught up to her standing there and quipped, "Hi Billie, admiring the architecture?"

"Oh, hi, Pat," she breathed, "yes, it looks a little out of line, doesn't it?"

"Not when you come stumbling in at 3:00 am, wasted." He replied.

They both laughed, Billie a little nervously, knowing the reputation the Sig Eps had for their all-night beer parties. Billie didn't drink, mostly because her father and brother, both of whom worked in the oil field, had enough bad habits to remind her she didn't want that kind of life.

"Come on in, the rest of the brothers should already be here," Pat said, "I understand you want to talk to the fraternity officers?" 

"Yes," said Billie, and hurried along behind him up the rickety steps to the old 3-story house.

Pat ushered her into a room with a half-dozen fraternity boys lounging around a surprisingly clean and well-furnished den, with oak paneling, bookshelves, and a huge fireplace. Their eyes lit up upon seeing Billie, and they crowded around, introducing themselves, though Billie knew them all, and generally trying to get her attention.

After the usual amenities, she was offered a drink, or a beer, and took a soft drink instead, and sat sipping it nervously, wondering what their response to her request would be.

After some small talk, Pat announced the meeting would come to order, the doors to the other rooms were closed, and, after attending to some minor fraternity business, asked Billie to take the floor on an order of new business and state her request. She spoke softly, but confidently, stated her honest intentions, and asked for their help to get elected Miss Central State. She made eye contact and smiled at each boy present, and noticed they were all staring at her throughout her presentation, which made her a little nervous. "My God, have I got my hair all in a mess, or my panties around my knees?" she thought. But that wasn't the kind of interest she was generating in the boys. They were attentive only to her bobbing boobs and swirling skirt when she'd turn back and forth from boy to boy.

There was a long silence after she finished talking, and Billie glanced around nervously at each of the boys, waiting for a response.

She sat down on the edge of the overstuffed leather couch, between two of the boys, and perched on the front of the cushion, her skirt riding up her shapely thighs, with just the toes of her tiny feet reaching the floor.

The boys stared at her, intently, some faces flushed, noticing her tender slender thighs, and her face flushed, as she realized their interest was sexual. "So," she thought, "why not take advantage of it?" Billie loved flirting with good-looking boys like these. So she leaned back, putting her hands behind her on the soft couch, arching her back a little, to let her now pointy-nippled breasts push out her soft sweater.

"What's in it for us?" One of the boys asked abruptly, staring at her breasts. Billie was taken by surprise, as she'd not considered that the boys would want anything more than a little sweet-talk and flirting to be willing to support her.

"What ...what do you mean?" she finally managed to stammer.

"What's in it for us?" the boy repeated, "What are you willing to do for our support?"

"I -- I don't know," said Billie, "wha -- what do you want?"

The boy to her left said, "Well, you see, it's kind of been a tradition with Sigma Epsilon Chi that we live up to our Greek name.........".he trailed off.

Pat then spoke -- "It's like this, Billie, as you know -- to win any election on campus has always taken our support, and to get our support, we expect something in return. If we support someone other than our Greek sisters, in one of the sororities, they're going to be seriously unhappy with us; and, since most of us are dating sorority girls, that could cause a lot of friction in our "personal relationships". He paused...

"So, we should expect to get something for our support, just as we have always gotten from the sorority sisters. Like, you, know, favors... in your case, a date with each member of the fraternity seems about right."

"A date?" Billie questioned, "with each member? That's all? Well, it's a couple of months to the election, and I'd be flattered to date any member of Sigma Epsilon Chi...........

"And I'd like to get to know each and every one of you," she added.

Pat looked at her, knowing she wasn't understanding his meaning. "Now, you've got to understand what we mean by "date", Billie," he sighed, "we don't mean a coke at the Student Union, or a movie."

The boy to her left, a large kid by the name of Phil, said "This is what we mean." As he slid his right arm behind her back, his left under her knees, and effortlessly scooped her onto his lap. At the same time, he slid his right hand around her small frame and cupped her right breast, slid his large left hand up her thigh, raising her skirt to her waist, and clamped his mouth over her trembling full lips.

Billie gasped, opening her full lips, and Phil's tongue plunged inside, twisting hers, and feeling around inside her mouth, as his hands felt around her body. Billie moaned, it was so surprising, but so exciting, too, and she briefly relaxed, enjoying the kiss.

Then she realized what a sight she must make to the other half-dozen boys, who she could feel crowding around, with her skirt up, her breast being squeezed, and her responding to the boy's salacious french-kiss.

She pushed her tiny hands against Phil's chest, jerking her mouth away from his, and said, in a rising tone of voice, "no --nnnooo -- NO!" and with that, she jumped from his lap and fled the room.

She could hear the chuckles from the boys as she struggled with the big, heavy door, and heard one of them say, in a nasty tone, "I told you....she's nothing but a tease."

Billie jerked the door open, slammed it behind her, and fled, running, across campus to the safety of her dorm room.

Chapter 2 -- Kelli Gets Involved

Kelli, who was Billie's junior roommate at the dorm, looked up from her computer screen as Billie broke into the room, slammed the door, then leaned against it, red-faced and wild-eyed.

"Jeez, big sister," Kelli said, "You act like you're running from the devil, himself, I take it your meeting with the Sig Eps didn't go too well?"

Kelli took delight in calling Billie her "big sister", since Kelli was a year younger, and a grade behind Billie. However, nothing could have been further from the truth. Kelli was not only larger in size that Billie, but much more worldly-wise, also.

Kelli was the sort of girl most people would look at and murmur "Bimbo", behind her back. She was taller than Billie, but only a few inches, at 5' 3", and her short, brassy-blonde hair was always perfectly coffuired, her make-up perfect, her dress just a little tacky and careless-looking, which tended to low necklines to show off her large, firm boobs, and short-skirted enough to show her perfectly-formed slender thighs to a good advantage. 

"No," gasped Billie, "I guess you could say it didn't go well."

She went on to explain the proposition she'd received from the fraternity, as Kelli looked on, getting more and more wide-eyed. As Billie finished, feeling a little foolish, Kelli said, "WOW!" what a set-up." You mean they expect you to put-out to every member of the fraternity to get their support?"

"Yes, I think that's what they meant," muttered Billie, "they said "date", but they meant more than just a friendly evening."

Kelli considered the situation for a moment, then stated, "Well, I'm not sure but what I'd like to date an entire fraternity, especially the Sig Eps, they're a bunch of foxes."

Billie stared, "You -- you mean ...?"

"Yep," Kelli quipped, I haven't been getting my share of lovin' lately, what with studying so hard for mid-terms and getting this damn term paper done." She glared at the computer screen.

"But-but-but-," said Billie.

"No buts "big" sister, you sound like a motor-boat, - but..but..but, - yes, I'd like a little playing around as soon as tests are over, and since I'd like to be Campus Queen next year, it wouldn't hurt to get an early start at it."

Billie stared at her blonde roomie. "You know I've never...." She started, but Kelli cut her off again. 

"Yeah, I know, you've managed to keep your precious cherry all this time, but isn't' it about time you gave it up?"

"Maybe so," Billie whispered, "but to all the members of a fraternity?" "No, I don't think so."

"You want to be Campus Queen, don't you," Kelli wheedled, "and this is the only way to get the help you need?" And, besides, I'd be willing to lend a helping hand, out of the goodness of my heart ..... and from the depths of my horny little pussy."

Billie flushed even deeper red. 

"It's not like you've never had a date," Kelli continued, "or didn't know how to handle boys. Goodness gracious, some of the stories you've told me about hand-jobs and blow-jobs ....."

Billie protested, "Yes, but I've never gone all the way with a boy, much less thirty or forty of them."

"Well," said Kelli, "that is a bit much, even for a half-dozen of me." But, maybe it's open to negotiation. "Maybe you wouldn't have to date every member, maybe just their officers."

But even at that, that's a half-dozen," protested Billie, "I can't do that."

"I told you I'd help," continued Kelli, "just let me go talk to them, there's no harm in that."

"No, I suppose not," Billie sighed, "there's no harm in talking, I sure do need their help. I REALLY want this, I've dreamed of being Campus Queen for four years, ever since I started school here. Maybe they'll settle for something else, support from the dorm for one of their candidates for Student Council President, or something."

"That's the girl," said Kelli, "I'll go with you, and we'll negotiate a better deal."

"Ok," sighed Billie, "but I don't know if I can face them again after this afternoon."

"No time like the present," Kelli persisted, "let's go back over there right now. Once you fall off a horse, you've got to get right back on."

Billie saw the logic in that, and was also worried that her hasty exit had already ruined any chance of the fraternity's support. She was a little ashamed that she'd been so panicked, and must have looked so inexperienced to the fraternity brothers. She hadn't handled it well, and already saw she could have done a smoother job -- while still not giving in to their crude demands.

3. Innocence Lost

After "fixing her face", Billie calmed down while Kelli changed into fresh clothes, a little sexier-looking than she'd been wearing studying, with an off-the-shoulder neckline sweater (with no bra supporting her prominent breasts), a short skirt, anklets and a pair of high heels, and Kelli called the fraternity house, where the meeting was still going on, and asked if she and Billie could come back and talk to them. Pat agreed to hold the officers there for awhile, to give them time to return. He sounded intrigued by Kelli's call.

When they arrived at the fraternity house, Pat met them at the door and ushered them into the same room and closed the door. They didn't hear him lock it behind them.

The same faces she'd fled a half-hour before in embarrassment greeted their entrance, but the mood in the room had changed. The officers had all been drinking since her hasty exit, and discussing her ...everything about her, her face, body, attitude, personality, and, since the phone call, the same about her room-mate, Kelli. The smell of testosterone was in the air.

They all stared with unabashed interest at the two girls standing in the middle of the room, with huge smiles on their faces. The girls smiled back, somewhat nervously. 

Kelli took the lead, and, talking to Pat, said she understood there had been a little "misunderstanding", that she hoped they could overcome, and that they were there to request their support, again, with "different terms" than Billie had understood, and offered to help Billie "any way she could" not only to get their support for Billie for this year's Campus Queen Contest, but that she hoped they would consider giving her the same support in her bid for the honor the following year.

There was a long silence following her speech, and the girls eyed the boys nervously, awaiting a response.

"Where are our manners?" Pat said, and offered the girls seats on the couches, one on each couch, between two boys. "Let's have some refreshments, and talk about your request."

Glasses with coke were pressed into each girl's hand, and the boys all refreshed their drinks, carrying on small talk. Both girls were thirsty, due to nervousness, and eagerly accepted the ice-cold drinks, and took a long pull. They both noticed they weren't drinking straight coke, but the taste was still refreshing.

Several of the boys spoke, one-at-a-time, telling the girls their own personal interests in the proposition. Several had girl friends in one sorority or the other, and were expected to support their girl-friends sororities' candidate, or, as Jack put it, be "cut-off". Everyone understood what that meant, even Billie. Others indicated that they just didn't know either Billie or Kelli as well as they did the sorority girls, and would "feel funny" about supporting an almost-stranger instead of a "close friend".

By this time, both girls had finished their "cokes", and they'd been refilled. In actuality, their cokes had been spiked with 180-proof everclear grain alcohol, which had very little taste, but a lot of bite, especially to the inexperienced non-drinkers, who didn't recognize the changed flavor. By half-way through the second glass, both girls were getting a warm glow, and starting to relax, which was not unnoticed by the boys.

A combination of the alcohol and all the hot stares from the men had affected both girls, and they were responding, in their naturally-flirty ways. Both coeds had relaxed back onto the backs of their couches, and crossed and re-crossed their legs until their skirts had inched, unheeded by them, but under the rapt attention of the men, to show most of their nubile thighs.

Kelli could feel their eyes on her breasts, which now sported noticeably hard nipples pushing against her sweater, and, once Billie noticed that, hers did the same, with her even-larger nipples embarrassingly on display. She shifted uncomfortably, again, and felt a warmth creeping both down from her belly and up from her now-moistening pussy. She took another long drink from the coke, to cool her spreading warmth, and, again, it was refilled and handed back to her. Kelli, too, was on her third glass, the temperature in the room being warm, and getting warmer.

Pat again took the floor. "As you can see, ladies," he began, "we all have something at stake if we support you for Campus Queen." He paused, and both girls nodded. "So, we still have to get something out of it, to give our support."

Billie began, "I think we can get you the dorm vote for your candidates...." Only to be cut short by one of the men.


Billie Jean



Author's note: This is a long and crazy one so be warned. I wanted to kick off the summer with something fun and hopefully this is it. There are a few people I wanted to thank because without them you wouldn't be reading this story. First the real life Helena Martinez, who claims to have read every one of my stories and dared me to write a story about this song. I'd also like to thank the two best writers I know DQS1 and Rehnquist for letting me borrow their toys, and I hope they aren't upset with what I've done to them because just using them was a dream come true for me. Lastly I'd like to welcome my new editor MikotheBaby to the party. She did a great job of prying my fingers loose from the comma key. Anything you don't like about it was my fault, she just made my gibberish legible. Okay Harry in Va here it is rip me a new one. 

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

My name is Alexander Blake. As I wind my Cobalt blue Shelby GT 500 KR Mustang through the crowded streets of L.A. I can't help but feel a sense of Déjà Vu. You know that eerie feeling that you've been here before. 

I guess it only makes sense seeing as how almost exactly one year ago I was doing the exact same thing. I was on my way to a charity dinner honoring me as the top man in the advertising industry. It was one of those stupid honors that were designed to let the other ad men know who had brought in the most money over the past 12 months. 

Advertising is a truly weird business. We don't make anything or own anything, but without us the general public has no idea of who does do those things. Take my hopped up Mustang here. Do you think it would matter how great this car is if no one knew they made them or had heard of it? I think not.

No matter how many pencil protector wearing engineering geeks it took to design and build this beast, it would all be for nothing if some smart marketing wiz hadn't come up with a way to sell it. It also takes a genius to decide which market to sell the product to and how to approach it.

Any way, this year just like last year, I brought in more advertising dollars for my company than any other ad man in the world or at least in the industrialized nations. I guess that's where my sense of Déjà Vu came from.

The funny thing about it though is that even though I feel like I've done this before and I have, nothing is the same this year as it was a year ago. The Shelby I was driving last year is at home in the garage. Last year I worked for a different company or at least a company with a different name and I was married to...Shit, I may as well tell you the whole story and let you see why I feel so weird. Sherman, crank up the way back machine. Set it for one year ago today....

Okay, last year my name was still Alexander Blake and as mentioned I was on my way to a charity event to honor me as the top man in advertising and make an absolute shit load of money for some charity that I had no interest in.

I'm sure the charity did great work for the homeless whales environmental disease cure or whatever it was. In my mind the big thing was that I was on top of my game. I had the world on a string and didn't give a shit who knew it. In fact I wanted everyone to know it.

I was again guiding a ridiculously powerful Shelby Mustang through the crowded streets near the convention center, with my lovely wife at my side.

Mary Beth, my wife of 6 years was 28, like me. Where I was California born and bred, she was New England royalty. It wouldn't have surprised me if she turned out to be related by marriage to the Kennedys. She had that Bostonian accent with its odd sounding vowels and clipped delivery. If someone had modernized Kathryn Hepburn, they'd have Mary Beth, at least on the surface.

I can't say that Mary Beth was ravishingly beautiful, but she was pretty and healthy and she had that All-American girl glow. Kind of like the Governator's wife Maria Shriver. She was the perfect wife for a top ad exec, attractive, but not overly so. Classy, sophisticated, well read, she was all of those things. But none of those are the reason I married her. I married her because I loved her like there was no tomorrow and I thought she felt the same about me.

Of course the fact that she could suck a golf ball through a garden hose and loved doing it didn't hurt. In public or around people, Mary Beth gave the impression that she was some kind of perfectly poised Ice Queen. Alone or out of the public's eye she was probably the biggest sex fiend I knew.

It was normal for me to come home to find her naked and bent over the back of my sofa as the first sight that greeted me when I walked in the door. There was nothing off the table for Mary Beth when it came to sex. I remember times when she'd come into my office in the middle of a meeting and tell the clients and my colleagues that she needed to borrow me for a few minutes. I'd be worried thinking that some dire emergency had arisen, only to have her pull me into my secretary's office for a quickie. "I just wanted you to understand what's really important," she'd said to me as she scooped up a finger's worth of my sperm that had leaked from her vagina and licked it off of her fingers. Then she kissed me goodbye and told me to come home straight after work.

Needless to say, I loved her back and our life together was never boring. 

Besides being way under forty, my personal style also separated me from a lot of the top guys in the industry. I didn't wear suits unless I was going to an occasion that required it. I had never owned a black foreign sedan and never intended to do so. And I simply hated fucking golf with a passion. I preferred casual more modern clothing, Muscle cars and extreme sports.

I was the bad boy of the ad world. Of course having the might of one of the world's biggest ad agencies behind me hadn't hurt me, but I had worked my way up through the trenches on my own.

When I started at McMillan Worth, it was as an unpaid (yep I worked for fucking free) intern during my college days. I started out running down to the corner store as a gopher to some of the ad execs. And now I dictated policy to the ad execs from a corner office.

Mary Beth was particularly stunning that night in a long tight black Vera Wang dress with a diamond choker as her only adornment. It was a simple, but classic look that she managed to make effortless. Of course I knew that she'd been in make up for three hours to look like she was barely wearing any make-up. And having her hair styled to appear she'd just thrown it up and pinned it, cost us more than some people made in a month. But it was all worth it, this was my night.

Hundreds of flashbulbs went off as we surrendered my Stang to the valet. Mary Beth and I exchanged a chaste kiss for the reporters. I smiled as I remembered why the front of my raw silk pants was ever so slightly stained. She'd just had me pull over less than two blocks from here to give me a sloppy blow job, only moments before we got here.

As we stepped into the cavernous room, another round of flashbulbs exploded in our eyes. This time we were greeted by cheers and applause as we were introduced to the waiting crowd. The ceremony hadn't started yet but the party was in full swing. There were throngs of rich and or famous people there. Politicians, athletes, actors, musicians, the entire human zoo was represented and they were all here to honor me.

A bit later the ceremony began and they started out by acknowledging the works of some lesser honorees. There were awards for commercials, ad campaigns, product placement and other things. When my award was announced and the truly staggering amount of dinero I had procured for McMillan Worth, there was near stunned silence in the room. Even one of my ex college buddies and greatest competitors, Caesar Anthony's jaw dropped as he heard the amount of money I'd raised for the firm.

After that, the night moved onwards. They announced how much money the dinner had raised for the charity and then people returned to eating, drinking, dancing, socializing and networking. I'm sure that my earning power was a topic of discussion. I was also sure that taking me down was being discussed with equal fervor.

I was, to quote a line from a movie about a sinking ship, "The king of the world." But little did I realize, my ship was about to sink as well.

As I looked over the crowd of well heeled men and women, they all seemed to blend into startling similarity. The men all wore tuxes, and except for cufflinks or some other minor personalizing trim all looked the same. The majority of the women all wore some version of the famous little black dress. Only the name of the designer differentiated them. Maybe their hairstyles were different too, but I couldn't tell. I was dutifully dancing with several of the assembled ladies in an effort to be polite, when I saw her.

She had long unbound blonde hair that cascaded down around her shoulders as opposed to an up-do. Her hair covered one side of her face completely, so that only one eye was visible. The style was reminiscent of Veronica Lake and was extremely arousing. Among all of those rich and beautiful women there, she stood out. She was more like a beauty queen from a movie scene. As she slowly made her way across the floor towards me, I noticed the way her red dress cut through the crowd that was dressed mostly in black.

Watching her as she approached me was like seeing a fireball cut through the darkness of space.

She actually bowed in front of me as the music started. I looked at Mary Beth and she just shrugged her shoulders and nodded. Of course at least fifty photographers took pictures of us as we started to dance. She danced extremely well and I suppose we looked good together. We didn't actually talk, until just before the dance ended.

Then with at least ten microphones near us she said the one fucking line that started all of that hell for me. She said that I was the one. Her voice was so soft at first that I didn't hear her. But apparently all of the microphones picked it up well.

She said I was the one, who would dance on the floor in the round. When she said that, my heart clutched. I hadn't heard that term in over six years. It was before I'd met Mary Beth, back in my days as a carefree single guy. It referred to a practice of mate swapping that we did back then. A bunch of couples would all form a circle, hence the term, "the round." Anyway, we'd dance for one hour, in a very dimly lit room, changing partners constantly. Whoever you were dancing with when the lights came on, you went home and had sex with. Most of the couples involved didn't survive.

It was a great thing for a young single guy like me. I'd meet some girl that I didn't really care that much about, take her to the party and let the chips fall where they may. Most of the time, I went home with someone completely different than I'd gone with. 

Naturally I'd given things like that up long before I met Mary Beth. Dancing in the round was not conducive to stable relationships. Anyway back to the party.

The reporters, sensing a story were swarming around us like stink on shit. They were there as the whole thing collapsed. She told me her name was Billie Jean and she caused a scene.

Then every head turned to see what was going on. Mary Beth came over to stand beside me like a good wife. She knew the drill. Some gold digger looking for money or publicity showed up at a big event to cause a scandal. Half of the guys there took one look at her and dreamed of being the one themselves. Billie Jean was really fucking hot. 

The problem was that try as I might, I simply couldn't remember her. Not only did I not remember fucking her, which I have to admit, was a crime. I couldn't remember ever meeting her or ever hearing of a Billie Jean.

Before I knew what was going on, before I could even hear the rest of her bullshit. My people whisked me and Mary Beth out of there. I really have to give Mary Beth credit. She was cool and professional. She smiled and posed for the cameras, even as they tried to turn my life to shit. If pride goeth before a fall, I was headed for a hell of a tumble. 

As we left the hall I could see two things and neither of them boded well for me. The first was that Billie Jean was literally surrounded by reporters and microphones. For an evening that had started out all about me, it had ended up being all about some woman I was sure I'd never met before now.

The second thing was that Mary Beth was studying me intensely as if she'd never seen me before either. I could tell that my fit and status as her spouse was being carefully weighed and measured on a number of levels. Before that, I'd have told anyone who asked that Mary Beth and I were eternal. Or that we'd spend the rest of our lives together regardless of any circumstance. 

We managed to slip out the back door and into my Mustang without being seen. As we roared off into the night only the deep throaty growl of my Magnaflow exhaust system gave evidence of our passing. 

Inside the car Mary Beth was excited as usual. She quickly reached for my pants and for the first time ever, I pushed her hands away. 

"Ooh teasing me huh?" she said. "I swear, even after all of this time. You can still surprise me. So what was all of that shit back at the party about?"

I really wasn't in the mood to talk right now, but I loved MB with all my heart, so I answered her questions. 

"You were there MB, you saw her," I said. "She's some chick from my past that crawled out of the woodwork and claimed we had sex. Honestly, I don't get her point. If every person I had sex with came out and admitted it. There would probably be a long ass list. And we wouldn't get to you until the end. You'd be the last one in line, but definitely the best."

"You flatterer " she smiled. "You don't have to try to charm me to get some pussy. It's all yours, whenever you want it. I think you should just chalk this one up though as a publicity stunt that didn't quite go the way you wanted it to."

"MB, this wasn't one of mine," I said. "This was real."

"Well then it makes perfect sense all of a sudden," she said. "She's some unemployed actress who remembered that you once fucked her. When she found out that you were being honored at a big charity event, she decided to crash it and steal your limelight to generate some publicity of her own. It'll probably do wonders for her career."

She was silent for a few moments and then continued. "Realistically I thought that you'd planned it. It is after all brilliant. I don't know why we never thought of it ourselves," she said.

I looked at her skeptically. "Why would I want this?" I asked. 

"Think about it Blake," she said. "Our next logical step is to separate you from the firm. Instead of people hearing about you as McMillan Worth's Blake Alexander, we want them to simply think Blake Alexander. It's the first step in you becoming famous on your own instead of as just an employee of some giant ad company."

"That way if it takes them too long to offer you a partnership and try to avoid giving you a titled partnership, we'll just walk and start up on our own." She seemed awfully confident. 

When we got home it was business as usual. The necklace that I'd paid a ridiculous amount of money for was dropped casually on a table. The dress was on the floor at the bottom of the staircase, and Mary Beth was walking slowly up the stairs with only her thigh high stockings and panties on. She hadn't even worn a bra that night, not that she really needed one. The closing of our door was the signal for the previously perfectly coiffed paragon of class and dignity to resume her chosen role as my personal slut.

She settled down on our massive bed and spread her legs. "You didn't eat much at the party," she smirked. "I don't think you should go to bed hungry. So come on over here and eat some of this." Her hips lifted off of the bed in anticipation. I knelt before my carnal goddess and did what she hated most. A lot of women want their men to be gentle and careful, when they eat them. Not Mary Beth, "RRRR...quit fucking teasing me and get to it," she snapped. I blew a gentle gust of air at her shaved bare vagina and was met with an icy glare. Just as she got ready to chastise me again, I caught her off guard and roughly swiped at her sensitive area from anus to clit as hard as I could in one swift stroke.

"EEEEEEE," she screamed. Her head jerked backwards and her legs flew even further apart. "Ohhh! fuck that was good." I swabbed her deck with my tongue as if I was trying to rub the skin off of it. She jerked and grimaced as if she was being tortured and screamed like a dying cat. Within seconds her eyes were rolling back in her head and she was gushing her juices all over me. 

"Get your fucking clothes off, already," she snapped. "No that's okay; I can't wait that long, just do me."

I shook my head, in disbelief. Even after being together for six years, I was still shocked by exactly how slutty Mary Beth could be. Less than twenty minutes ago she'd appeared to be a woman who wouldn't say shit if she had a mouth full of it. Now in the privacy of our home, she could teach drunken sailors how to swear. I pulled my pants down around my ankles and grabbed her off the bed. I turned her around and slammed myself home in her tight hairless pussy. None of that romantic rubbing and easing my way in for her, she was already sopping wet and she liked it rough so that's what I gave her.

The first brutal stroke found me bottomed out inside her and her trying to get her legs even further apart, so I could get deeper. "Harder, baby. Slam me," she said. I was already fucking her so hard that if she got pregnant our kid would be born with a black eye, but she wanted it harder so I obliged her.

I grabbed her by her slim waist and pulled her onto me harder with each stroke. She pushed her ass against me increasingly harder also. It was more like we were fighting than fucking. I was getting closer with each stroke and Mary Beth knew it. "Don't you dare fucking cum," she said. She pulled herself off of me and turned to look at me. "Do my ass," she said. She was out of her mind. She was slurring her words together, and she had the biggest smile.

"Who was I to turn down the love of my life? I pulled her cheeks apart and started to lick her anus for lubrication. "Just put it in me," she screamed. "Force your dick into my shitter, now!" So again I complied. She pushed against me as I pushed into her. It was so tight I thought my dick was going to break. Finally I got the head in and she started oohing and screaming, "yes."

After a while we got the whole thing in and she started sawing against me again. It was so tight and I was already close." It didn't matter. I reached under her and rubbed her clit. Mary Beth started slamming her ass into me again.

Mary Beth doesn't have a large fleshy ass so her pelvic bones slamming against me were not the most comfortable thing, but it was brief thankfully. She started jerking involuntarily, and I grabbed her around her waist and drive myself home one more time. I came like a fire hose. Semen erupted from the end of my dick and blasted her insides. She reacted from the warmth of the fluid more than the volume. She ripped herself free of me and turned around quickly taking my shrinking member into her mouth and slurping greedily. Her tongue circled the head of my shaft and even probed the hole in the end of it for the last few drops. A few errant drops had escaped and landed on the bed. She scooped them up and swallowed them as well.

"Oh baby, that was so good," she crooned. "Just the way, I like it."

We fell back on the bed wrapped around each other and slept the sleep of the damned, while the world around us started to fall apart.




Billie Jean



The next morning I woke up and unwrapped Mary Beth's arms from me. I showered and stumbled into my Mustang. Fortunately it was a Saturday, so it really didn't matter that it was nearly 10 a.m. when I got on the road. I noticed a few people staring at me as I went into my favorite Dunkin Donuts for coffee. I was sure it was the car. How did Michael Keaton say it in that Batman movie? "Chicks dig the car." 

As I pulled into the parking lot behind our building, there was a group of reporters gathered. I figured that one of our advertising clients was making their shoes with slave labor in some third world country again. Or someone we represented has destroyed some tree in the rain forest. While I'm sure they were tragic, they were neither my job nor my concern. 

I was working on landing a huge new client. They owned several hundred hotels all over Europe. Their advertising budget alone was worth over 10 million dollars a year. If I could land them, I'd already be one of the top five in terms of sales for next year already. 

I'd been doing conference calls and video conferencing with them for the past few days. They were open to my advances but their responses were lukewarm at best. I was avoiding the inevitable trip to Europe to meet with them until I could arrange to take Mary Beth with me.

As I stepped into my office, things got weird. Normally the office would be deserted on a Saturday. But the few people that were there would greet me. I guess I expected some type of congratulations for the award I won last night. There was nothing. I did notice a few people staring at me and talking, but not much else. 

My longtime secretary Myra grabbed me by my arm and yanked me into the office. "What the he'll were you thinking?" she asked.

"Well, I was thinking that I'd have coffee and call our new French client to see how the deal is going," I replied.

Myra looked at me as if I'd arrived at work on a short yellow bus instead of a $70,000 Mustang.

"Not that, you idiot," she said. "I may not like your wife much. She seems too uptight for you. It's like she has a stick permanently up her ass. But you married her. How could you cheat on her?"

"Myra what the hell have you been smoking?" I asked her.

"Didn't you read the paper this morning?" she asked. "What about this Billie Jean thing?" She looked at me closely. It was as if she expected me to confess to some terrible crime. But I was as cool as a cucumber. I just shrugged my shoulders.

"Blake, aren't you going to say something? It's not every day that your lover comes out of the woodwork and..." I had to stop her before she got too wound up with this, so I interrupted her.

"Billie Jean is not my lover," I told her. "To tell you the truth, last night was the first time I ever saw her."

Myra was still looking at me, intensely. Finally she nodded her head.

"I believe you," she said. "I've known you long enough to be able to look into your purple peepers and tell when you're being truthful." I laughed a bit. Because of a weird genetic melding in my family's gene pool, some of the kids were born with red eyes. My uncle Stanley had them. He wore brown colored contacts to disguise them. The trait was supposedly dominant. But my mother's side of the family all had very deep brown eyes. When you matched her with my father it got messy. I guess I should have been born with red eyes but when you mixed my mom's brown with the red I'd been born with very striking purple eyes. From a distance they looked brownish. But anyone who got close to me could see their purple shade. 

My purple eyes were one of the reasons that I'd been so successful with women throughout my life. I really like to think that the fact that I'm a nice guy didn't hurt either. 

Myra held up a copy of the morning paper. The headline read, "Blake's in trouble!" The article went on to give the usual background crap I'd become used to. I was described alternately as both an advertising genius and a ruthless business man. It talked about the award last night, some of the highlights of my career and all of my failures and setbacks. Then it talked about last night's fiasco.

A second article had the banner headline, "Who is Billie Jean?" I didn't read more than the first two lines of that one before I discovered that Billie Jean was talking to everyone she could. She was scheduled to appear on television, radio and many more magazine and newspaper articles. Apparently my nightmare was just beginning.

I called my lawyer, Montgomery Burns. He was a ruthless old bastard. I wanted him to jump on this whole Billie Jean thing and find out what she wanted and what it would take to get rid of her. Barring that I wanted him to start the proceedings to sue her for Libel. 

I called home to see if my blushing bride was awake yet. She eerily answered the phone and yelled for our maid to bring her some "fucking," coffee.

"Mary Beth, you probably won't want to read the papers this morning," I warned her. "They're all full of the Billie Jean shit."

"Oh my God, you're kidding," she laughed. "It must be a really slow news day. Why else would they be interested in some woman you slept with back in college?"

"Mary Beth, would you please listen to me," I said seriously. "I don't remember that woman. I don't remember having sex with her period. I don't even remember talking to her or seeing her."

"You were probably bombed out of your mind," she said. 

"I don't think I've ever been so drunk that I couldn't remember having sex with someone," I said seriously. Mary Beth in the way that people who have been together for a long time can, sensed that my mood had shifted. 

"Blake, don't worry about this. It's nothing. I believe you. I'm on your side no matter what. For better and for worse, remember? I love you, stupid," she started making little kissing noises over the phone. I started laughing and felt better instantly. Naturally she wasn't done sticking it to me though. "Blake did you notice the way every guy in the place couldn't take their eyes off of that Heifer's Tata's though? I think I'm going to have to insist on breast implants for my birthday. I think I'll move up to like a quadruple Z cup," she laughed.

"Oh yeah, I can see it now," I laughed. "We'll have to get you a wheelbarrow to carry them around in."

"And I'll terrify our kids when they breast feed," she said.

"What kids?" I asked. "How are we going to have any kids?"

"We can have kids any time we want," she said. "I come from damn good breeding stock. All I have to do is stop taking my pill and I'll start spitting out little Alexander's like there's no limit."

"I don't see it," I said.

"Why not?" she smirked. I could already imagine her at home on our huge bed completely naked with her head tilted to the side. It was the way she always reacted when someone told her she couldn't do something. 

"Well," I said, with mock seriousness. "In order for us to procreate...You do understand the term procreation don't you? I'm not being too technical here am I."

"I know what procreation is, you idiot," she said.

"Well, in order for us to procreate, I'd have to shoot my stuff into your Hoo hah," I said. Mary Beth erupted with laughter. 

"I thought this was a serious technical talk," she said. "You and I have more sex than anyone I know. And you can shoot your stuff anywhere you want, but your stuff is my stuff. No one else gets a fucking drop of it. Especially not Billie Jean." she was still laughing as she hung up the phone.

For the rest of the weekend, Mary Beth and I just relaxed and enjoyed each other. We took the boat out on Sunday morning and just lazily sailed around the bay. We stopped off at several secluded coves and did what came natural. We even moored just off of an island where we could make out picnickers with our naked eyes. We took off all of our clothes and had sex right in front of them to act out one of Mary Beth's fantasies about having sex in front of other people. The people on the beach did start pointing at our boat, though. 

It was lucky that we did it then because if we'd waited a couple of days, there'd have been reporters all over us.

While Mary Beth and I were relaxing Billie Jean had been telling her story. Monday morning it was all over the papers again. As much as I hoped it would die down and go away, the story seemed to have legs. 

When I went into the office Monday morning I was told to appear at a special meeting of the board of directors. This was what I'd been waiting for. I assumed that they were going to offer me a partnership as a reward for all of my bard work.

When I walked into the meeting, it was the same as it always was. A group of old men, who had all, at one time or another been in my shoes. 

Each and every one of them had been the company hotshot at some point. Each generation's hotshot had to rewrite the record books until they were so important to the company that they had to be offered a part of it. 

First I was asked about the new account I was working on. I told them that we hadn't actually landed it yet, but things looked promising. 

Then the moment I dreamed of came. I knew that once the discussion of money was over we'd move to discuss me personally. 

"On a more personal note," said Arthur Harris. I was trying very hard not to smile. I needed to remain professional and in control. I couldn't let them see how much this would mean to me to become a partner before turning forty. I'd also become the first to make partner before turning thirty.

"What are we to make of this Billie Jean situation," continued Harris. I sucked in a breath, and remained silent for a few ticks.

"This adverse publicity could possibly affect our bottom line if allowed to run unchecked," he said.

"I guarantee you that it is being handled as we speak," I said flatly. I kept my voice as free of emotion as I was able to manage. Inside I was seething. I was beyond pissed but I managed to hold onto my cool.

I returned to my office and sat down behind my spacious desk. What I'd thought was an annoyance was becoming a true problem. It was obvious that Billie Jean would need to be dealt with. The problem was that I didn't know what she wanted or what it would take to get rid of her. I was smart enough to realize that I needed to handle it all through my attorney. Any direct contact between the two of us would simply lend credence to her claims.

Myra burst into the office unannounced and looked at me. "How did Mary Beth take the latest news?" she asked.

"What latest news?" I asked back. I was so pissed that I could care less. The thing that had me the most upset was the fact that this whole Billie Jean thing might allow those old bastards to delay me getting my partnership for a while longer. 

"Billie Jean claims that your affair with her was four years ago," said Myra, looking at me suspiciously.

"That's pure bullshit," I yelled. "I was out of college and already married to Mary Beth by then."

My outburst caused several heads in the outer office to turn and look towards us. My office had floor to ceiling glass walls. The glass was thick and we couldn't be heard out there but they could certainly see in, and the way I had jumped up and started yelling had attracted some attention.

The ringing of the phone on my desk snapped both Myra and me out of the impromptu staring contest we were in.

"Blake Alexander's Office," said Myra crisply into the phone. "He's right here Mr. Burns." she handed me the phone. "Hey, boss I'm on your side. I believe you. Don't shoot the messenger," she whispered as she walked out of the office.

"What took you so God damned long to get back to me," I asked.

"I do occasionally take a vacation," laughed Monty Burns. "Besides, what were my final instructions to you last week before I left?"

"Ha ha fucking ha," I said, remembering that he'd told me not into get into any trouble while he was gone.

"Alright so far, all I've had time to do is put a couple of investigators on her. I may cut it down to one though to save some money," he said.

"Since I'm paying for it don't spare any fucking money," I snapped. "Put as many men as you need on the job, I'm not exactly broke."

"I'm not trying to save you any money," he snapped right back. "It's just that I've tried out a new agency, Arturo Rios Investigations. The girl, Sarah Price, that they put on the case is really good. She got back to me in a matter of minutes with more information than my regular guy was able to come up with over 24 hours. I'm thinking of sending her and her husband to Florida to do more research."

"Why are we sending people to fucking Florida? And why does her husband need to go with her?" I asked.

"Well, her husband is actually not an investigator but he helps out on some of her cases now and then. But since they just got married she won't go anywhere without him. Arturo warned me about that when he gave me her results. They also may not take the case. According to Arturo, Sarah is the best PI he's ever seen, but she's picky about the cases she takes. Arturo said that once she met her husband Chris, there are just some things and some types of cases she simply won't take. They make enough money from her husband's job as an engineer or auto marketing guy to live comfortably so they do the investigations things on a pick and choose basis," he said.

"Okay your super spy girl has weird quirks," I said. "Why do they need to go to Florida?"

"Because Billie Jean lives in Florida," he said. "If we're going to find out anything about her, that's where we need to have boots on the ground. There's some really funny shit going on here. Like Sarah found out that Billie Jean has no fucking money. The bitch has like twelve dollars in her checking account and no savings account. So how the fuck did she manage to fly all the way to California and get dolled up like she did for your party? Obviously she has help and there's something going on. If we want to find out the who's and the what's we need people in Florida."

"Okay send them already," I said.

"We can't," he said. "I already told you, she's picky about the cases she takes. She wants to meet you first."

An hour later I was headed out of town to a quiet little restaurant just outside of L.A. There was very little traffic and I was listening to the Eagles' One of these Nights CD as I drove. By now you've probably realized a lot about my personality so you know what I did when a car flew by me. His fucking exhaust system was as loud as mine and the exhaust note was so sweet, that I couldn't believe it.

As I looked up to see what it was, I wasn't shocked. It was another Mustang. It was a GT but the car was nowhere near stock. Whoever the guy was he was making tracks. Nobody went past me, Mustang or not, so I shifted up a gear and put the pedal on the floor. My Shelby woke up and as the supercharger started to whine I was narrowing the gap. There were curves up ahead and I was sure that my car's handling package would allow me to easily over take him.

Unfortunately, the bastard hugged the corners like his car was on rails. That car was definitely not stock. As we came out of the last corner, I quickly shifted and stomped the pedal. Five hundred and fifty horses quickly nosed their way towards the front. I pulled ahead of him. But it was very gradual. He was smiling from ear to ear and gave me the thumbs up sign as I passed. I really wish I had friends like that guy. He was a class act. And obviously we shared a liking for the pony cars.

I slowly pulled away from him but I wasn't leaving him in the dust like I expected to. Just so you know it, this experience was why I bought the newer Shelby GT 500 KR, this year. The GT 500 that I was driving last year only had five hundred and fifty horses. The new KRs put out almost eight hundred horsepower.

Before too long and luckily before any cops saw me it was time for me to leave the freeway. I checked my GPS and saw that the restaurant I was going to was only a couple of blocks away from the freeway exit.

I pulled into the parking lot and was under whelmed. This wasn't the type of place I was used to. It was a small out of the way Mexican place, very understated and very authentic in its decor.

I walked in and noticed that there was no hostess by the door. A fat woman in a greasy apron waved at me from behind the bar and told me to sit wherever I liked. There were a few seedy looking characters scattered around so I decided to sit at a table near the window along the side of the restaurant where I could watch my car.

After I'd been sitting there for a few minutes a couple came in. She looked around and examined everyone in the restaurant before her eyes settled on me. She also never let go of his hand. She was tall for a woman with a lot of honey blond hair. She was fit and trim with larger than average breasts that told me from the way they moved under her light sweater that they were real. Her well rounded yet trim ass perched on top of long thin legs. She was a hell of a package. 

The best part was her face. If she'd put any time at all into make-up or styling she'd be beautiful. Hell she already was beautiful but she didn't have so much as lipstick on and in California, raw bare naked beauty just didn't stand a chance. Out here even the maids and the waitresses wore more facial enhancement than this woman did.

The man with her was tall and well built. He was muscular without being hulking. He also moved like nothing I'd ever seen before. Maybe it was some kind of martial arts training or something. His disposition and the open and easy way that he smiled, worried me. He looked like he was lost. He was just too fucking friendly. The wolves out here would tear him apart. He could probably handle himself in a fight, but the con men would eat him for lunch without ever lifting a finger.

She was obviously the brains here. He wasn't an idiot or anything, he was probably very book smart, but she had the street smarts. At any rate you could tell by the way they fiercely held each other's hands that they were a team. There was also something very familiar about him. Maybe he was an actor or something that I had worked with.

Surprisingly enough she looked at me and then led them over to my table. "Mr. Alexander?" she asked as she stood in front of me.

"Hey," he said. "We Roy Orbisoned you on the way here, didn't we?"

"You what?" I asked smiling. "His easy going disposition was infectious. I liked the guy already.

"Roy Orbison, we blew by you," he said excitedly. "I knew I couldn't beat your Shelby. You've got a supercharger and my car has no power adders. It's naturally aspirated so that gave you a big advantage. I just wanted to see how long it would take for you to crush us."

"There's no way your car is stock," I said shocked. If it was I'd spent way too fucking much money, for way too little bump in performance.

"It's been tweaked," he smiled at me nodding.

"Mr. Alexander, we haven't much time and I've several questions for you," she said pulling me back to earth. "May we sit down?"

"Of course, please do," I said. I called the fat woman over and got a Corona for myself. I asked Sarah what she'd like and got her a glass of white wine. Her husband looked over the drink menu and eyed my beer.

"I don't often drink beer," he started, bringing a smile to my lips. 

"But when I do, "I said joining him. "I drin..."

"Bring him a Pepsi, he's driving," snapped Sarah, killing our fun.

"Hey that was one of my best advertising campaigns," I said.

"Mr. Alexander, let's get to it," said Sarah all business. "What's the truth about this thing with this woman Billie Jean?"

"The truth is too the best of my memory, I've never met her before I saw her the other night at my party. I don't know what she wants or why she wants it from me. I've never cheated on my wife once, since we got married. I was wild before I met Mary Beth but once we got together I've been faithful ever since," I said. The whole time that I was talking Sarah Price was looking into my eyes.




Billie Jean



Her husband was looking outside of the bar. "Chris," I said, snapping his head towards me.

"Take it for a spin. The clutch takes a little bit of getting used to. You need a heavy foot to shift it." Without a word he plucked the keys out of my hand and was gone.

"You do realize that he's going to want one now," she said looking at me with a pained expression on her face. "We're supposed to be putting money away for a bigger house in a better suburb, so we can have some property around us to start raising our kids and you have to go and give him the keys to a car that costs nearly three times as much and only goes maybe twenty or thirty miles an hour faster."

Her expression said it all. "Billie Jean, as Mr. Burns already told you, has no money. We really can't figure out any motivation for her attack on you, but it seems as if she's slowly rolling out more information a little bit at a time. I have a friend who works in Florida. He's digging up things as we speak. I also have found out in the past few hours that she's filed some type of suit against you that originates in Florida. We don't know what type of suit it is though. We're sure this whole thing will come down to money. My goal is to give you and Mr. Burns enough information to give you a heads up on the whole thing and possibly to give you ammunition for your fight against her if necessary."

"So you're taking my case?" I asked. She nodded her head.

"Two reasons," she said. "The first is that I'm almost a human lie detector. I believe you when you say that you've never cheated on your wife. I really believe that there are some men out there who are faithful. In fact I married one. You were telling me the truth and every time I look at her I get the feeling that she's hiding something. I don't trust her."

"What's the second reason?" I asked her. "Him," she said, pointing at her husband as he rejoined us, smiling wide enough to light up the whole room. "He said we should take your case. We'll be in touch." Chris threw me back my keys and gave me the thumbs up sign.

I went back to work and tried to concentrate on my career and my clients. Mary Beth was still trying to fuck me to death every night. She also assured me that she believed me too. But Billie Jean seemed to be everywhere. TV, Radio and print, all of the media seemed to be eager for every tidbit she put out.

Burns had finally decided that we needed to meet. He still wanted to keep me out of it, but he wanted to meet with her. Thus far she hadn't asked for anything. Mary Beth though claiming she believed me had begun asking me questions. She asked more and more of them as the week went by.

She even got out my old college yearbooks and spent a lot of time looking through them trying to see if Billie Jean appeared in any of the pictures. When I pointed out to her that Billie Jean was at least a couple of years younger than us, she gave up the yearbook search.

"Blake, I hate myself for asking you this," she said. "I'm giving you a one-time get out of jail free card. Tell me the truth. Have you ever had an affair since we've been together? With Billie Jean or anyone else?" 

I was shocked. My mouth dropped open and words refused to form or come out. I think more than anything else, I was hurt. People were always trying to find out who the hell was under the Lone Ranger's mask, but Tonto never tried. Mary Beth was supposed to be my Tonto. She was my rock. She was the person I wanted to grow old and live out my life with. Everything I did was for her or for us. Her faith in me was one of the biggest sources of my seemingly unshakeable confidence.

Without saying a word, I gathered up a pair of pajamas and my shaving kit and moved down the hall into the guest room. A few minutes after I lay down I heard her twist the knob but I'd locked the door. She called me a few times, but I didn't answer.

The next morning I had just gotten to sleep after tossing and turning all night. It seemed like just as I closed my eyes the loud buzzing of my cell phone woke me up.

"It's a paternity suit," said a voice from the phone as soon as I pushed the button to connect the call.

"Whuh?" I said. "Who the fuck is this? Do you know what time it is? I just got to sleep."

"Mr. Alexander, this is Sarah Price. I'm sorry to call you so early. It's just after nine a.m. here. I forgot about the time difference. But I wanted to give you a heads up. So you could plan your strategy. The way I figure it. I've given you a few hours of lead time, but that's all," she said.

"Sarah what are you telling me? I'm not sure I understand you. Say it all again, now that I'm awake." I told her.

"Billie Jean claims that you are the father of her child," said Sarah. "She's filed a paternity suit through the Florida Attorney General's Child Support Enforcement Bureau. You wanted to know what she's up to and after. It looks like she wants two things. The first is to ruin your reputation and your life. And the second is to suck out a shit load of money from you."

"You can tell that the money is only a part of it. If it was only the money, she could have come to you quietly, under the radar and told you about the child and asked for you to pay child support or even asked for cash settlement outright to keep quiet. She did this publicly and dramatically because she wanted to pull you down. Either she or someone she's working with has a big fucking grudge against you. Can you think of anyone who hates you badly enough to want to do this to you?" she asked.

"Not off the top of my head," I said. My brain was still only half functioning.

"Well I'm looking further into it. I'm trying to cross reference and check out every person she's known to associate with over the past five years. She's scheduled to go on TV and blab all of this soon. She also claims to have proof, so be careful," Sarah said before she hung up.

I had to admit, Sarah was good. The other investigators that Burns had put on the case and the ones that McMillan Worth had hired had all come up empty so far. Thanks to Sarah at least I wouldn't be surprised when the news papers came out or the TV shows hit today.

As I headed for my morning shower, I realized that last night had been the first time that I can remember that Mary Beth and I slept apart.

In the space of a week I'd gone from controlling the media on behalf of my clients and their products, to hiding from them on my own behalf.

Just as the sun came up and far before anyone was out on the streets I snuck into my office. I actually got there before Myra did for a change.

When she walked in at eight, she was surprised to find the lights already on and me already in the office.

"Myra, sit down," I told her. "Over the next couple of days things are going to get worse."

"Oh Boy," she said. "How much worse can it get?"

"Billie Jean is doing all of this as part of a paternity suit," I said.

"Why didn't she just ask you for the money," asked Myra.

"I don't know. My investigator thinks that she also wants to ruin my reputation," I said. "I'm telling you this because I don't want you to have to find out by reading it in the papers tomorrow. Apparently she's going to be on TV today."

"How is Mary Beth taking it?" she asked.

"I guess I should call her and tell her," I said.

"Why haven't you told her already?" she asked.

"I'm not sure Mary Beth believes me anymore," I said sadly. "I guess there's just too much of this too soon."

I did call Mary Beth to try and give her the news too. Her cell went straight to voice mail, so I left her a message. I was glad it happened that way, because I still wasn't ready to talk to her. The fact that someone I loved so deeply and so completely didn't believe me was devastating. I realized then that I had to take a closer look at my friends.

Billie Jean appeared on A.M. California. It was a popular morning news magazine type show. She had changed her appearance. Instead of the glamorous beauty queen persona she'd shown at the party she was trying the poor mistreated girl role.

I watched as she theatrically wiped a tear from her eye. The hosts of the show were trying to comfort her as she choked out her tale of woe. She claimed that she'd been at a party barely four years ago. The party had been in Florida. Some of my old college friends had arranged it and we had danced on the floor in the round. It was pure bullshit. I hadn't done the swapping partners thing since long before I'd met Mary Beth. 

She told them that she'd been instantly in love with me and that was the only reason she'd had sex with me. She also told them that I'd led her to believe that we had a future. She said she woke up the next morning and I was gone. She had no contact information and no way to get in touch with me. Then she dropped the big bombshell. She claimed that she'd discovered a few weeks later that she was pregnant, and I was the only person who could possibly be the father.

With no way to contact me, she'd raised our child alone. She'd struggled and took whatever jobs she could get just to make ends meet. Then finally a few weeks ago she'd seen a picture of me in a magazine. She'd borrowed every cent she could for a cheap flight out here. She'd tried several times to contact me, but claimed that she couldn't get through to me. She was crying, the hosts of the show, though they were supposed to be unbiased were trying to vilify me and of it was up to the studio audience I'd probably have been both castrated and tarred and feathered.

As Myra and I were watching the Billie Jean circus on TV, Burns called me.

"I've got a meeting scheduled for tomorrow with her," he said. "Hopefully after that I can figure out what it'll take to get her to just go the fuck away."

"I want to be at the meeting," I snapped. A few minutes later Mary Beth called me. Her sister, who I couldn't stand had shown up at my house early this morning and told her about the show. Mary Beth had apparently heard all about it. When I told her about the meeting, she insisted on being there as well. She was also very suspicious about how I'd known this was going to happen.

Later that morning I was summoned before the partners for another wonderful meeting.

Arthur Harris was all over me as soon as I walked in the door. "I thought that you were going to take care of this embarrassing situation of yours before it affected the company," he said.

"I am working on it Arthur," I snapped. "The problem is unlike the affairs that you've had this woman seems to want more than just money. There's of course the added problem that unlike you, people know who I am, so when something happens to me, it's news. And lastly there's the fact that unlike you, I'm innocent."

For a second he was shocked; first by the fact that I had called his old ass by his first name and secondly because all of my points against him were true.

"Your innocence or guilt in this matter is irrelevant," he hissed. "The bottom line is the main thing. Some of our agents are reporting that they're having a more difficult time selling our ad campaigns. Some of our clients are watching this and waiting to see which side wins before they continue to do business with us. Once again, I'm asking you to handle your uhm...affairs."

When I got home that evening, I was hoping I could talk to Mary Beth. Us not being together was killing me. It wasn't going to happen though. Before I even shut off my engine her sister Tina was out in front of my house trying to pull my door open. I unlocked the door, pushing her away from my car.

"Be careful, Tina," I snapped. "This car costs more than three years of your alimony payments."

"You cheating asshole," she snapped. "You finally got caught. I knew you would."

"You mean you hoped I would, don't you Tina?" I snapped. "Come on you were hoping that I would cheat on Mary Beth so she'd divorce me and you and I could get together. Some kind of a birds of a feather thing." She was seething. She was so angry and so red I thought she would explode.

"The difference between us though is that I didn't cheat. And my people are going to prove it," I said.

Mary Beth came out then, wondering what we were yelling about. I went into the house, walking right by her and back into the guest room.

The next morning I knocked on the door to our room and told her that I'd left the address to Burns' office on the table. I also told her that Tina couldn't come to the meeting.

"Blake, why are you sleeping in the guest room?" she asked. "I really miss you. It's tearing me apart not having you next to me. Tina says that you're acting guilty."

"Thanks MB," I said. "It's good to know that the woman I love believes me and is behind me." My sarcasm was lost on her. "Maybe you should have Tina sleep in here with you."

I drove to the office alone. When I got there Burns was there along with another man who was one of his associates. 

Mary Beth got there about 10 minutes after I did. I could tell by looking at her that she hadn't really taken the time to put on the show that she normally would have. She'd swept her hair back into a pony tail and thrown on some relatively casual clothes compared to what she normally wore in public. Maybe she was as upset about this whole thing as I was, but more than likely it was simply because she thought that the meeting would be a semi private affair.

Finally with a great deal of fanfare and a bunch of reporters trailing after her, Billie Jean arrived. She made a big deal of wiping a tear from her eye as she saw me. Then she smirked as she looked at Mary Beth. "No wonder he wanted me," she said. Then added for the benefit of the reporters, "She's built like a skinny teenager."

Burns started the meeting out by simply asking her what she wanted. She told him and it sounded as if she'd rehearsed the speech many times, that what she wanted was for our son to have the benefits that he'd been denied for so long. She wanted for him to be raised in the lifestyle that he was entitled to. And she wanted to make a point that big shots can't go around loving and leaving innocent young girls.

Then she recounted the whole fantasy that she'd spouted on the TV show. Mary Beth started asking her questions.

That's my baby, I thought. Maybe Mary Beth was back on my side. She asked Billie Jean a lot of tough questions. Like how long were we together that night. And what kind of proof did she have that the child was mine. Billie Jean was unruffled though by Mary Beth's questioning.

She told my baby we danced til three. Then she looked at me, and showed a photo of a baby crying. His eyes looked like mine. It was a very high resolution photograph, and very clear. The boy did look a lot like me, too much in fact. The purple eye coloring was extremely damning. Even I was shocked.

Mary Beth got up from the table and ran out of the office. She was clearly upset. Billie Jean's nearly hysterical laughter followed her as she ran away. 

"I'll be in touch," smirked Billie Jean as she too left the meeting. I saw her in front of the office playing up to the reporters as I snuck out the back like a God damned criminal. There was an itching in my brain though.

Again I drove to the office, but this time I was too late to avoid the crowd of reporters who greeted me.

"What do you think about you lover's claim that she's raising your child alone and nearly destitute?" asked a reporter as I got out of my car.

"Billie Jean, is not my lover," I said. "She's just a girl who claims that I am the one. But the kid is not my son." I really wasn't sure if I was trying to convince them or myself.

Luckily building security held them off as I got on the elevator and went to my office. I spoke to Claude Gascon in Paris about the hotel deal. He wanted me to come over there and actually look at their operation and see a couple of their buildings. The deal was going nowhere so I finally agreed. I told him I'd have my people coordinate with his and we'd work out dates. Perhaps this would be a good time for Mary Beth and me to get away for awhile. 

Burns called me and told me that we needed to go to Florida to file our counter claim or at least answer the claim that I was the father of Billie Jean's son. I told him that we could leave later that afternoon. I would arrange for us to take one of McMillan Worth's Jets.

He said he'd arrange for us to handle our business there as efficiently as possible, so we could get back here to keep things going with as little disruption in my schedule as possible.

Myra came into the office and told me that the office gossip was now split forty/forty. A lot of the associates and the people who worked with me on a daily basis believed me. Though the evidence was damning they knew me and were on my side. The secretaries and a lot of the other workers there were sure I was guilty. The remaining twenty percent didn't care one way or another.

I sat there thinking about my life. It had been less than two weeks since I first met Billie Jean and she was systematically tearing up a life that had taken me years to build. Again I thought about my wild and misspent youth. I really was kind of wild back then, but it was all in fun. People always told me, "Be careful what you do. Don't go around breaking young girls' hearts."

And it wasn't just people who gave me that advice. Mama always told me, "Be careful who you love. Be careful what you do. Or the lie becomes the truth." And God damn it that was what was happening here. Slowly but surely all of that bitch's lies were becoming the truth. Fewer and fewer people believed me. I was still sure even after seeing that fucking kid that I had never set eyes on Billie Jean before the night of my party. The funny thing was that as soon as I'd seen the picture of the child, I'd felt a connection between us. Not necessarily with Billie Jean but with me and the boy. I didn't know how to explain it but it was there.

I tried to call Mary Beth, but somehow got Tina instead. "Why are you answering my wife's phone?" I snapped.

"Because she's so busy crying over what you did, that she can barely do anything," said Tina, snarkily.

"Could you please put MB on the phone?" I asked.

"I'll see if she wants to talk to you." There was a big clunk. She'd obviously dropped the phone.

"Sorry, I dropped the phone," she said. "I hope it didn't hurt your ears."

"You probably dropped the phone about as quickly as you drop your panties when sailors are in town, just give the phone to MB," I snapped.

"Hello," said Mary Beth. Her voice sounded as if all of her strength and life had been drained out of her.

"I have to go to Florida," I said quickly. "Would you like to come?"

"Why are you going to Florida?" she asked flatly. Just hearing how dead her voice sounded made me want to kill Billie Jean and whoever else was behind this.

"Billie Jean's Paternity suit originates from there. I could probably phone this in, but I want to appear there in person. It will let everyone know first that I'm taking this seriously and second that I'm not hiding from it," I said.

"Blake, you're going to have to do this one without me," she said. "I really can't take anymore of this. That baby looks just like you. He even has those freaky eyes of yours. God damn it I gave you a chance to come clean about this and you fucking lied to me. I don't know if I'll ever be able to trust you again. Maybe someday we'll come close to what we had, but it's going to take time and it's going to be hard. You're going to have to go to Florida without me Blake." She said all of this with the same flat tone to her voice. There were no highs and lows in her delivery, it was emotionless. I was shocked.

"Thanks for believing in me," I said quietly. I hung up the phone. I punched in another number and waited for it to ring.




Billie Jean



"Hey Sarah," I said. "Thanks for the warning. It was good to know what was going to happen before it did for a change."

"That's what you pay me for," she said cheerfully. "How are things on your end?"

"Well fifty percent of the people I work with think I did it. The one that kills me though is that this may end up destroying my marriage. Mary Beth thinks I'm lying to her. She doesn't believe me and it's killing her. We've been sleeping apart for almost a week. That's the first time that's happened to us. And after I prove that I'm innocent, it won't matter. Billie Jean is going to pay for this," I said.

"Anyway Sarah, I'm coming to you. I'll be there before midnight your time. What I need from you is a file on all of the significant players in the Florida State Attorney's office. I'd like to have some heads up on them before I face them tomorrow. I know it's short notice but I'd appreciate anything you come up with," I told her.

"Okay, I'll have the files at your hotel by midnight," She said as she hung up the phone.

As soon as I hung up, my phone rang again.

"Who were you talking to, one of your whores?" said Tina's acidic voice. "Listen, I just called to make you an offer. Actually it's two offers. Mary Beth doesn't want to go with you to Florida. So I thought that I'd go with you. That way when we get back I could tell her that you only handled business on the trip."

"Why the fuck would I want to take you with me?" I asked. I was totally confused. Tina surely understood that I hated the shit out of her.

"Look, moron, with me there my sister will know that you weren't screwing around behind her back. Plus when we get back maybe I'll try to convince her to forgive you," she snapped.

"Tina you never do anything, for nothing," I said. "What do you get out of this?"

"Well Mary Beth told me that you two haven't had sex in about 4 nights, so you must be kind of hard up, if you get my meaning."

"Tina, I'll never be that hard up," I said hanging up the phone.

Myra stepped into my office at that point. "Everything's arranged, hotel, car, the whole nine yards. I even know you well enough to make a contingency plan for when you call me," she said smiling.

I didn't have any idea what she was talking about, so I let it slide.

I rode to the airport with Burns. There was no way that I'd leave my Shelby in long term parking. Actually I should have realized that there was plenty of room in the area around the hangar where McMillan Worth's jets were stored to park my car.

As we got into the winged aluminum tube that would fly us across the country in a matter of hours, I thought back on my life. By the time the jet took off I was deep into my thoughts. Actually when I'd seen the pictures of the child that Billie Jean claimed was mine, I'd realized what was going on here.I also realized that proving it would be difficult if it was even possible at all. 

Several hours later we arrived in Florida. Even though the temperature was a close match to what we'd left in California, it felt hotter. This wasn't dry warm air; this was far more humid, wet towel sticking to your skin swamp air.

In California the temperature and the warn breezes caress your skin and make you feel good. That's why all of the people walk around smiling. This felt more like the temperature and the air clamped you in a fist. 

The women here were to be truthful, no less beautiful and certainly at least as well endowed as the ones in Cali. The interesting thing though, was that they seemed to be more natural. 

As we walked out of the hangar that connected with the main airport terminal, my head was snapping left and right. Shit, I was a happily married man. If the women here affected me like this, I'd hate to be a single guy here.

As we left the terminal I saw a limo driver with a sign that had Burns' name on it. It was a big Mercedes stretch limo. My face dropped immediately. Then I decided that Myra needed a raise. As we walked towards the car that I was dreading getting into, my transportation arrived.

Back in the sixties when Ford had just released the Mustang, They made a deal with Carroll Shelby to produce some special edition cars for the Mustang line. One of the most sought after was the Shelby GT-H. These cars were sold to the Hertz rent a car company and could be rented by anyone with the money to rent a car. Lots of guys who wanted to get into racing on the cheap would rent those beasts that were faster and more powerful than the stock Mustangs of the day and take to them their local drag strips.

In 2006 Ford and Shelby had built the 06 Shelby GT-H as a tribute to those cars. And yep, you could still rent one from Hertz. All of a sudden Myra's cryptic message made sense. She was probably sure that after I'd driven the car, I'd want it. That woman really did deserve a raise.

I followed the limo to the hotel. I checked into my room and before my ass hit the surface of the couch my phone rang. Inwardly I was pissed then I realized that thought it was 10 o'clock here it was only 7pm back in LA. It was of course crazy Tina.

I pushed the button to record the call and before I could say anything, she just started talking.

"By the time this night is over, you'll wish you had taken me with you. Your life is never going to be the same. You think Billie Jean hurt you. Wait until you see what I'm going to take from you. You should have given me what I wanted." And then she started hysterically laughing. I hung up the phone. Tina was certifiable. When this Billie Jean thing was over and life got back to normal, I needed to have a long talk with Mary Beth about distancing ourselves from her sister.

My phone rang again. I was torn between letting it go to voice mail and just cursing Tina out until I noticed the 904 area code. The call was from here in Jacksonville.

"Hello," I said tentatively.

"Mr. Alexander, this is Sarah Price. Can you meet us in Mr. Burns' suite I have the information you needed and I'd like us to discuss our course of action," she said.

"I'll be right over, Sarah," I said. The woman was certainly worth whatever I was paying her. She'd promised me a file by midnight and she'd cut two hours off of that.

Monty's suite looked much like mine did. Unlike the hotels in Cali where they tended to use different designer's for every suite to create a different mood every time you stayed in place, here it looked like they went with what they liked and used the same pieces or very similar ones in every room.

There were four large wing backed chairs around a small conference table in the sitting room of his suite. His bed appeared to be the same one I had as well. Not just the frame and the mattress, even the linen and spread seemed to be the same. It made me wonder how the maids didn't get lost or confused.

"Okay, let's get started," said Sarah. I was amazed. This was the longest I'd ever seen her go without glancing at her husband. Nope it's over; she just locked eyes with him again and smiled.

"I've narrowed this down to all of the players and sub players involved to make this simpler," she said.

"Darryl Martin," she said showing us a picture. "Don't worry about him. He's toast we won't be dealing with him. He's the attorney for the state who was assigned your case. He's not very good, which would have been great for us."

I raised my hand, like a school kid and she looked at me and smiled. I don't know how Chris could handle being around her all the time. With all of that long honey blond hair and those huge green eyes aimed in my direction, I was getting aroused. Today she was wearing those little rectangular glasses like an extremely sexy librarian. "This is your meeting, Mr. Alexander," she said. "You don't have to raise your hand."

"Why won't we be dealing with Mr. Martin if he's the attorney assigned to the case?" I asked. "And if he's not important why do we have his picture?"

"I wanted to show you the entire situation we're dealing with," she said. "You pay us for all of the facts so that's what I'm giving you. The real deal is that with your celebrity status and the importance of your case, I was expecting the Florida State attorney's office to go bigger. I just wasn't expecting them to go this big."

She flipped up another picture. Even seeing him in a photo filled me with dread. She didn't need to introduce him to us at all.

"Before we get into who we will be dealing with let's look at the why." She pulled out another picture; this one was of a woman. The photo was a full body shot of a woman in a business skirt suit. Her long curly jet black hair was the kind that most men would die to wrap their fingers in while they were...

The woman was incredibly busty, that much was obvious even in the photos. The fact that she was covered from neck to knees only seemed to enhance her appeal, not to mute it. She had a slim waist and a rounded ass that her skirt couldn't conceal. Her legs were thick but so well shaped that it seemed natural. The woman looked like that pornstar Angelina Castro. She had the same zest for life or so it appeared in the photo. Her eyes drew me in, they were the most expressive brown eyes I'd ever seen. 

"This is Helena Martinez," said Sarah. "She's the social worker assigned to the case. Her only concern is the child. If paternity is established she's the one who will determine, except for the amount of your obligation, everything else. She is exceptional in her job. If we can get her on our side, or at least not working against us, it would be very good."

I looked at Sarah, thinking that maybe just this once, she'd made a mistake. She shook her head at me as if she was psychic. Then she showed us another picture, this time another woman. The hair was different but there was a resemblance. If the first woman had been busty this one was even more so. I wondered how she could stand up.

"This is Myra Martinez," said Sarah. "She's the PA for the Florida State Attorney. She's the aunt of the previously mentioned Helena. I'm sure you guys have all noticed the family resemblance." Sarah smirked as she said this.

"Maybe it's something in the water," said Chris. Sarah slapped him gently on his head and began speaking again.

"Anyway, Helena puts in a phone call to her aunt, who probably called in a favor from her boss and now we'll be facing William Maitland," she said. "He's a far better attorney. He's probably the best lawyer on this side of the country including all of the fancy guys in New York. Our only advantage here is that he usually handles Criminal cases, like homicides etc. You've all seen him in the papers and on TV. They call him the Angel of death."

"Oh great," I said. "From what I've heard that guy never loses. I'm going to the chair for something I didn't do." Everyone laughed.

"Be serious Mr. Alexander," said Sarah. "Maitland is a very good attorney, but from our research, I can tell you that no matter what kind of case he's involved in, all he wants is the truth. Again if we can get him on our side, it will make things a lot easier for us. So we have to be straight and up front with him. Please look over the file on him I've prepared for you and the others too. We're having a meeting with him first thing in the morning, at the courthouse. Be professional and be polite. You're a charmer, make him like you."

"Okay, I'll do my best, but how do I do that?" I asked. 

"Just be honest," she said. "Maitland is like me, he can smell a lie from a mile away."

"Oh, I forgot to tell you, he probably doesn't know he's handling the case yet?" she said.

I looked at her strangely. "Sarah, why doesn't he know?" Then I had another thought. "If he hasn't been assigned the case yet and he doesn't know, then why do you know?" I asked.

"Because that's what I do," she said. She handed me more files and pictures including another incredibly beautiful woman with an outstanding rack of her own. "That's Maitland's ex wife Debbie," said Sarah.

"There has to be something in the water," said Chris.

"Do I need to start drinking the Florida water, Chris?" asked Sarah.

"Nope you're perfect," he said smiling at her sheepishly.

Then we all left and headed for our own respective rooms. I studied each picture and the files associated with them. I did it the same way I look at a client's product line, looking for weaknesses and products that are a drain on the company. Sometimes they're great products that only need a different target audience or a different pricing structure. Sometimes they're simply deadwood. I will admit that I spent a lot of time looking at the picture of Helena Martinez. She was incredible.

Very early the next morning, we all got up and headed out. Sarah had decided that the best way for us to handle our meeting with Maitland would be to catch him on his way into his office. 

Sarah and Chris greeted me warmly as we headed for the parking lot. 

"I'll bet you miss your car," said Chris. "Rental cars suck."

I nodded my agreement. "The one I have isn't so bad," I said. As we neared the parking lot I pouted out the GT-H to him and his eyes got bigger.

"Oh my God, that's nice," he said.

"Mr. Alexander, do you really have to?" asked Sarah exasperatedly.

"I'll bet I can beat that one," said Chris. "But I want one anyway. Honey, this one is way closer to our price range," he whined.

"Rrrrrrrrrr," growled Sarah.

We drove over to the municipal complex that housed the court room and all of the office buildings for the county's legal teams.

We waited in a small cafe on the first floor that our target was known to frequent.

# # # # # # # # # # #

My name is Bill Maitland. I'm an Assistant State Attorney in the Jacksonville State Attorney's Office. Unofficially I'm the chief prosecutor which means that I get most of the juiciest and most important cases. Because of my success in high profile cases I'm viewed as the number one guy under the Big Man, State Attorney Austin Edwards. Austin is a friend and sometimes mentor figure to me, though we've bumped heads a time or two.

I had just parked my Escalade and headed to pick up my coffee of choice from the cafe across the street from my office when I noticed something different. 

Two obviously not stock Muscle cars, both Mustangs were parked very close to my normal parking spot. As I stepped into the cafe, a tall pretty woman with long honey blond hair moved into step with me. "Good Morning Mr. Maitland," she said. I abruptly stopped and looked at her. She held out her hand for me to shake and I simply looked at it. 

Out of the corner of my eye I noticed that several of the early morning patrons had already stopped their morning rituals to watch. The price of notoriety is that people are always watching me. 

The easiest way to end the stares was to pretend that everything was normal and nothing was going on.

"I'm Sarah Price," she said. "You're not scheduled to be in court for a few hours so is it possible that you could sit down and talk with my boss for a few minutes?"

"Miss..."I began.

"Price," she supplied. "And actually it's Mrs. Harris, but I use my maiden name for business."

Whoever she's married to is one lucky bastard, I thought. She was very pretty. At first glance I thought she was one of those up and coming, fresh out of school attorneys that some of the bigwigs hired. That way they could develop their own legal talent while they were still affordable. Later on in their careers when they were no longer cheap, you could use the "But I gave you your first job when you got out of law school," line on them. 

She was as I said tall. Her body was thin but curvy in the right places. Not in the same class as my wife Debbie. God, why did I still sometimes make that mistake even in my own mind and especially after all of the water that had passed under that bridge. My ex wife Debbie, who'd dumped me for a younger guy with a bigger dick. No, Sarah was no match for either Debbie or the current woman I was hoping to start something with, Myra Martinez. 

But Sarah had a youthful vigor and a spark that neither of them could match and her legs were incredible.

"Mr. Maitland you're going to meet my boss one way or another anyway," she said. "We'd like it if our meetings weren't adversarial, so why not have a brief sit down before the hostilities begin?"

"Who's your boss?" I asked. 

"Blake Alexander," she replied.

I'd heard of him. Who hadn't? Recently he'd been all over the newspapers. He was one of those California guys who had everything going for him and wanted more. He wasn't my type. The guy had everything, a great career, a beautiful if boring looking wife and more money than he could ever spend.

Recently, one of his former lovers had crawled out from under a rock somewhere and started making trouble for him. It was the same with all of these guys, his first line of defense was to claim he didn't know her. One of the local papers even had a banner headline using a quote from him. It read, "Billie Jean is not my lover." Yeah, sure. Why didn't he just pay the woman and get on with his life?

Still there was something interesting about Sarah if not necessarily her boss. "Lead the way, Ms. Price," I said.

She turned and started walking towards a booth in the rear of the cafe. I was suddenly glad I had manners. Sarah's rear view was a symphony of syncopated muscle movements and twitches that would drive any man to the brink of sanity. I was sure she'd thrown in just a little extra sash, in her sashay for my benefit.

Three men awaited us at the table she pointed to. One of them Monty Burns I remember from Law School. He'd been a couple of classes ahead of me but was a competent attorney. After graduating he'd headed out to the land of fruits and nuts to do entertainment law.

In the middle sat Blake Alexander. I recognized him from his pictures and TV. The boyish charm and good looks were even more intense in real life. I really wanted to hate him. 

The third guy at the table could have been related to Alexander. He was roughly the same age, but cut from a slightly different cloth. His hair was darker, his eyes weren't that peculiar purple color that Alexander's were, but they had the same kind of appeal. 

"The Angel of Death in person," smiled Alexander, extending his hand to me.

"And they call you Alexander the Great, don't they?" I asked. We both smiled. 

"It's funny," he said. "A bunch of people who don't know us, or what we stand for, give us names that the public takes to more readily than they do the ones our parents gave us."

I nodded.

"All you've ever tried to do was to bring out the truth and make sure that the guilty got what they deserved," he said. "In my case all I'm trying to do is to advertise my client's products to the best of my ability. I don't conquer people or places. Despite our differences I think we're lot more alike than most people would ever believe."

God Damn it, I thought. I was going to like this bastard.

"Both of us are men who give our careers almost too much of our lives and attention until they put our families in danger," he said. The bastard had certainly done his homework.

"In fact this whole fiasco is putting so much pressure on my marriage that I'm not sure it will survive, Mr. Maitland," he said, looking me straight in the eye. Despite his slick way talking, I was sure he was being very straight with me. But I had run into people who were simply such good liars that they never even blinked, when telling lies in church. I'd imagine in his business, advertising you'd have to be a good liar to sell useless products to the public and make them believe they needed them.

"I still don't understand why I'm here, Mr. Alexander," I said.

"You're going to be assigned my case," he said. "I know that normally you handle criminal cases, but I guess my case is high profile enough that I merit the best." He smiled ruefully.




Billie Jean



"In any case," he began again. "There are a few things I want you to know. First off, in the words of Bill Clinton, I did not have sex with that woman. I never saw Billie Jean until she walk into that awards ceremony. I'm not expecting you to give me any favors, but I wanted you to know that I did not do this. I love my wife more than I can ever say. This whole situation has driven a wedge between us and it gets worse every day."

"If I'm proven guilty in this case I will pay whatever the law requires and more, I have no problem doing that, but I really did not do this. I will cooperate with your investigation fully. Anything you need, you'll have. And to start with...Chris," he said. 

The other young man at the table produced a brief case and brought it to me. The briefcase was full of files and records. There was a sheet on top with a list of account numbers and passwords.

"What is all of this?" I asked.

"All of my phone records for every phone used by anyone in my employ for the past two years," he said. "There are also banking records. There are a couple of documents that give you the right to search through any of my personal and corporate accounts online..." I looked at him.

"We assumed that if we gave you the phone records you'd think they were doctored. So assuming that you thought they might be doctored, having access to the accounts means that you can go in and without a court order, simply look through the phone company's servers for any information you need," he said. "We're trying to be completely transparent with you."

I looked puzzled. Alexander was unlike any other suspect I'd gone against.

"Also I'll be staying in Florida for probably another day. I'd like it if you could, once you find out that you have the case, arrange for my DNA to be taken and processed."

I nodded at him. I was taken aback. He was volunteering his DNA. "What makes you so sure that I'm going to be assigned your case?" I asked.

"Quite simple, Mr. Maitland," he said smiling. "I'm the best there is at what I do. You're the best there is at what you do. And I truly believe that Sarah is the best there is at what she does. Sarah's information says that you will be. I believe her. Now after the investigation goes forward, I'm expecting the first DNA test to prove that Billie Jean's child is more than likely mine." Everyone at the table gasped when he said that. The test will be inconclusive though, but it will prove the theory I've been working with for the past few days."

"What theory is that?" I asked.

"I'm not ready to reveal that yet," he said. "But when this all comes out and I'm exonerated, I'll expect you to pursue the true villains here with the same zeal that the press has hounded me with." He smiled and got up extending his hand again and I took it. "We'll be in touch," he said. Then he and his people left. I was shaken by the whole thing. Did I at his age have anywhere near that amount of poise or cunning? Probably not.

# # # # # # # # # # #

"Helena Martinez tried for the fourth time that morning to adjust the ancient fan in her small office so it would direct a stream of moderately cooler air towards her desk. 

She really wished that she could simply take off all of her clothes and run around naked. She laughed at the image. What she really wished was that her job would allow her to be as daring in her dress as her aunt was and still maintain a sense of professionalism.

Her aunt had been cursed or blessed, depending on your viewpoint even more than Helena had. But her aunt had the status of her employer's office to keep the wolves at bay.

If she came to work in a blouse or shirt that showed even part of her cleavage, all of the years of striving to be recognized for her skill and dedication to the job would be over. The worst part during Florida's brutal summers was that she couldn't even wear a sleeveless shirt because then the men just tried to look at her boobs from the side of the shirt through the arm holes.

As it was now she was very proud of being the very best case worker in her department. All of her clients called her Miss Martinez and a very few of them called her Helena, if they were good and doing what they were supposed to be. But if they missed a payment or mistreated their kids in any way shape or form. Both her name and her temper got shorter and then they just called her Hell, cause that's what she gave them.

In frustration she just turned the fan off. She'd noticed that the motor on the back of the fan was about to overheat. It was putting more warm air out than the amount of cooler air the blades were producing.

As she turned the fan off it fell off of her desk. She bent over to make sure the fan wasn't damaged.

As she bent over, the movement causing her ass to stick straight up, she saw him out of the corner of her eye. He seemed to be shaking his head. She imagined what he was thinking and erupted, before she gave it a second thought.

"Get the hell out of my office. What are you some kind of peeping Tom. If you'd get off your lazy ass and get a job, you could pay for internet service and see all of the pictures of bent over women you want. Maybe you could even make your child support payments on time and we wouldn't have to have these meetings set up," she screamed, as she straightened up.

"Wow," he said smiling. "That probably scares them off doesn't it?"

Helena looked at him for a second. There was something familiar about him, but she'd never seen him before.

"Maybe we should start again," he said. He held out his hand for her to shake in a professional manner. "I'm not one of your cases yet," he said. "His clothes were certainly better than anything the people she dealt with could afford. There was also just something different about him. She really found herself wanting to like him.

"Who are you?" she asked in a tone that was just slightly less gruff. "Do you have an appointment?"

"Nope," he smiled. "But I figured that since we're going to be spending a lot time together, I should drop in to meet you before you sick your dogs on me."

Oh shit, she thought. He was definitely a smooth one. He was probably one of those guys who charmed your panties off, left you pregnant and was shocked when you tracked him down to make him pay for the child he left behind.

"If you don't have an appointment, why are you here?" she asked. She could play his little game too. "Shouldn't you be hiding somewhere, hoping we don't track you down and force you to deal with your responsibility?"

"Nope," he said again. God damn it, he had this way of making her think that he wasn't a bad guy.

"How about if we try this a different way?" he said. "I've already spoken to the prosecutor who'll be handling my case. I've volunteered to give my DNA as soon as possible and I'd like to have you go over my records and tell me exactly how much I'll have to pay, possibly."

That certainly was different, thought Helena. He hadn't yet been proven the father, but he was already here. Instead of hiding and trying to avoid this, he's coming in and volunteering. Maybe he'd be one of the rare good ones.

"What's your name?" she asked smiling. She may as well try and get things off on a good foot.

"Blake Alexander, "he smiled back.

Helena could only stand there staring at him. This man had enough money and influences to have kept this case out of court for many years. Probably until the woman accusing him couldn't afford the delays and just settled out of court for what would amount to a pittance to him. But here he was, showing up and volunteering his DNA and his records. Something was funny.

She brushed her hands over her clothes to straighten them out without appearing to do so and looked at him. Without realizing that she did it she also licked her lips and smiled a tiny bit brighter as well.

"Would you like me to have my secretary bring you some coffee or something," she said. "I need to find the file and go over the information we have. I'm not sure who'll be litigating your case or even if litigation will be necessary."

"Your secretary isn't out there, that's why I just walked in," he smiled. "And litigation will definitely be necessary because," he shrugged his shoulders. "Miss Martinez, I know that you're not going to believe me, almost no one does, but I'm not the father. I'm very sure that you've heard that, thousands of times in your line of work. You don't know me and you have no reason to believe me. So let's just make this as pleasant as possible for both of us."

As she looked at him she noticed that a little bit of the boyish charm and swagger had worn away. He looked as if he'd been slightly worn down around the edges by all of the pressure of being under the spotlight. The vulnerability actually enhanced his attractiveness even more. Inspite of herself, Helena could feel something for this man already. It didn't make sense. And her track record with men was dismal.

"Mr. Alexander, you said something interesting. You said the prosecutor assigned to your case..."she began. 

"Yes, Miss Martinez, it would appear that your Aunt was able to get the case assigned to Bill Maitland," he said.

"Well both Mr. Maitland and I would need to speak to the mother first, before we could go into the specifics of the case. All we really have right now is the complaint she signed..."

"She's in California still, doing the talk show circuit and trying to trash my good name," he said.

"I just wanted to come in and hand over my records so the investigation can proceed and all of our dealings with one another can be pleasant or at least as straight forward as possible," he continued.

"I'd like to return home sometime within the next day or so, would it be possible for you and Mr. Maitland to arrange for them to swab my cheek and get my sample sent out to the lab?" he asked.

"I'll see what I can do," she said. As he started to leave, she stopped him. "I can see that this is pretty hard on you, Mr. Alexander..."

"Please, call me Blake," he said. 

"Blake, why didn't you just pay her or arrange something when she first told you? You wouldn't have had to go through all of this."

"Miss Martinez, I was never given the chance to do that. I found out about the child the same way you did. I read about it in the paper. I was never once contacted or told about it before then. I gave Mr. Maitland all of my phone records to prove that. In fact, I never actually met Billie Jean before my awards dinner. All of the things she's saying on TV and in the print media about how she tried to contact me for months are simply not true."

As he walked away, Helena was surprised. In the five years that she'd been doing her job, she'd heard hundreds of ridiculous and farfetched things. She'd gotten to the point where she'd thought that she was a fairly good judge of character. She really believed this one. She dialed her Aunt's phone to get Maitland's number.

# # # # #

By the time we got back on the plane the next day Helena Martinez and Bill Maitland had arranged and received my sample. Both were beyond courteous in our dealings. 

Both were also trying to arrange to speak with Billie Jean. Helena was trying to find out as much as she could about the whereabouts and disposition of my supposed son. After all, if I was going to have to pay for support for him, I'd be entitled to see him and have a say in his life and living arrangements. Both Maitland and Martinez expressed their concerns about certain aspects of the way that Billie Jean was handling things.

I had given Sarah the assignment of finding out as much as she could about the child and his whereabouts. As good as the Florida Attorney's office was and I was sure they had their own investigators, Sarah was simply, better.

None of that mattered, within hours we were back in California and my life had gotten worse. Before the plane landed, there were already reporters waiting for me.

"Have you seen the latest headlines?" I was asked.

"Did you fly to Florida for a secret tryst with your lover?" another asked.

"Who was the mystery woman you met with in Florida?" someone asked.

"What about your divorce?" someone asked. That caught me by surprise, and outraged me. I instantly put two and two together and came up with three. I assumed that they thought that I wanted to divorce Mary Beth for Billie Jean.

"That won't ever happen," I said, breaking the rule of common sense and engaging in an impromptu talk with a person who would only take my words and twist them into the most salacious form possible in order to sell a few papers.

"I love Mary Beth far too much to ever leave her for anyone," I said firmly. There was a round of laughter after that. I got into my Shelby and headed for the office. Once I got there I noticed that the usual rounds of good natured joking that usually accompanied my return from a trip were absent. The majority of the associates and my co-workers wouldn't meet my eyes.

Myra hustled me into the office and closed the door behind us. She handed me a stack of newspapers. The headline on the first one was hilarious. "Alexander the Great vs. the Angel of Death." The accompanying article told about how my crime was so bad that I'd probably be the first person to get the electric chair for fathering a child.

The next paper was nearly as bad and as untrue, "Alexander sneaks off to Florida to make secret deal behind Billie Jean's back."

Another paper didn't even try to get any facts. They just made something up, "Alexander goes to Florida for yet another woman." There was a picture of myself and Helena. I wondered how she'd take the publicity. I hoped that she wouldn't think that I'd caused it.

The one that hurt me the most was a local paper. The headline printed in it struck a dagger in my heart. "Mary Beth files for divorce against cheating spouse." It wasn't me divorcing her over Billie Jean; Mary Beth had simply come to the end of her rope. According to the article she was seeking a divorce from me citing irreconcilable differences. In the article she said that things between us had been bad for a long time. Billie Jean wasn't the cause of the divorce, just the final insult. I was hurt beyond belief. We had in fact been very happy until Billie Jean stuck her nose into our life. At least I'd thought we were. I wondered why MB had said that.

I collapsed into my chair. I really wanted to start crying right then and there. I grabbed my cell phone and called MB. I hoped more than anything that the article in the paper wasn't true.

Myra handed me a stack of phone messages. One stuck out more than anything else, a message from my old college rival. He'd struck out on his own and started his own advertising firm. For a small potatoes outfit they weren't bad. Of course he wasn't in our league but he was good. He probably just wanted to take this chance to strike while I was down and twist the knife a bit. 

It was funny. We'd always been rivals, but friendly ones. I'd even sent a few clients that couldn't afford us his way over the past few years. I guess that Cyndi Lauper had it right. Money changes everything. I declined to return any of the calls.

The phone on my desk started ringing then. It hadn't gone through Myra's line; it had come straight to my direct line.

The partners wanted to see me. What else could go wrong?

As I walked through the offices most of the associates ignored me. A few, maybe three or four out of the tenth of so advertising reps waved at me or gave me the thumbs up sign. Three guys and one woman. I made note of who they were. In a few months when this was all over and I was back on top, I'd remember them. I was sure that I was going to have to explain my usage of the company jet for my trip to Florida. Or the fact that I hadn't given them any further information on the status of the French hotel deal. As soon as I spoke to the partners, I'd have to call Gascon and arrange something to make it look like the deal was proceeding as expected.

I stepped into the office that I'd been in thousands of times over the past few years. The climate was different. It was like being in Africa among a herd of Zebras. There's a certain kind of tension in the air that lets the Zebras know when a predator is about to strike and all of the Zebras take off. It felt like that in the office. Generally when I address these old men it's been from a position of strength. There have been times when certain partners didn't agree with or simply did not like something I'd planned, but I was usually able to garner enough support based on my track record or the amount of money I'd made for the firm.

This time there were no friendly faces in the meeting. Arthur Harris was absolutely gloating. I knew before he'd even begun to speak, that I wasn't Alexander the great today. I wasn't even Alexander the not so good. I was Napoleon at Waterloo. To put it simply, I was fucked. The decision had already been made. 

"Blake," began Harris, in a tone that was dripping with fake concern, which only served to cover the sarcasm and the genuine malice he really intended. "You've made a lot of money for the firm, over the years. But all of this publicity is causing us to lose clients. So we'd like you to take a leave of absence until this whole thing blows over."

"Of course we'll keep you on the books as a consultant so you'll still draw fifty percent of your current salary. Two million dollars a year should keep you in Mustangs," he smiled. "And you can devote most of your time to taking care of this. These headlines simply aren't good for business and this will enable the firm to distance itself from you and all of the negativity."

Of course the papers would only say that I had left the firm indefinitely, which the average person would interpret as meaning I'd been fired. They'd assume that the firm was trying to put it nicely to make sure that there was no wrongful termination suit. Since this wasn't about my work or the quality of my work, I'd have a darn good chance of winning a suit, like that. The two million was a payoff to prevent the suit as well.

"Of course as soon..."he began.

"Arthur, shut the fuck up," I said. "I've begun to see that things aren't the way I've always thought they were. You spend your life working your ass off to improve things and provide for people you think will be loyal to you. But at the first sign of trouble, they abandon you."

I looked around the table and surprisingly none of the old men would meet my eyes. "Out of all of you sanctimonious old bitches, I actually have the most respect for you, Arthur. You and I have never seen eye to eye on most things. At least you have a reason for wanting to see me gone. The rest of you are just...Pfah. I don't have words for you. To save you the trouble of going through all of this bullshit, I quit."

And I walked out of the room.

I walked straight out of the building, got into my car and drove away. 

When I got home, feeling worse than I'd ever felt in my life, I just wanted to forget about the entire day. More than anything I just wanted to sit down and talk this whole thing out with my wife. I was sure that if I could just explain to her what was going on or what I thought was going on she'd at least give me a chance to fix it somehow. 

That was when I found her note on the kitchen table. She'd gone away with her sister for a few days. We could talk about the best way to handle the divorce when she got back. She didn't even tell me when she would be back.

Less than a month ago I'd been Blake Alexander, and I had the world on a string. I had a great job, a great life and I was married to the woman of my dreams. Now I was unemployed, my life was in the toilet, my wife had abandoned me. The string seemed to have wrapped itself around my throat and was choking the shit out of me.




Billie Jean



That night I sat alone in my house getting drunk as hell. I was wallowing in self pity. I'd lost it all, my cushy job, having everybody like me and even my wife. That was the toughest pill of all to swallow. I'd done everything for that woman. I'd even put up with all of her weird ass relatives and all the skeletons in their fucking closet. The first time things don't look good, she bails on me.

That was really it. Mary Beth had always been about appearances. In public she was the perfect arm candy wife. In private, she was an absolute whore. God I loved her. God I missed her. God I couldn't stand that bitch for doing this to me. What had she done to me...I'd forgotten. I must have really been drunk if I couldn't remember what she'd done to me. Well anyway, it didn't matter, I had the power of liquor and I didn't need her anymore. I was thinking clearly for the first time since the last time I was this drunk. Then the phone rang. I answered it.

"Who does this be being?" I asked. Surprisingly he didn't understand me.

"Uhm, Blake, is that you?" he asked. Of course with my absolute clarity of mind brought about by my new mental powers, I totally understood everything.

"Are you drunk?" he asked. "That doesn't seem like the Alexander I know."

"Caesar, is that you?" I slurred. "Seize the fucking day Caesar. It is day isn't it? I don't know about the fucking part. Except that Billie Jean pretty well fucked up all of the fucking. She chased Mary Beth off. Anyway you can have it all now."

"You're drunk aren't you?" he asked.

"Yes, I am." I said. "And you should be too."

"That bitch really did a number on you didn't she?" he asked. "We all warned you," he said.

"I know," I laughed. "People always told me, be careful what you do don't go around...making dumb girls fart. Someone also told me, be careful who you love. Be careful where you toot, or your thighs will fill with poot, hey, hey."

"Damn Caesar, that was good. I should write a song," I said laughing.

"Uhm, Blake, I wanted to talk to you," he said. "So I'll call you in the morning." Then he hung up.

Several hours and a lot of drinks later, my phone rang. 

"What?" I said.

"Blake, are you drunk?" asked a voice. Then I heard laughter. "Your life is all fucked up now isn't it? I told you what would happen. You've lost everything, even my stupid sister. I warned you. But it's not over. Wait until you see what happens tonight." Then she hung up and I passed out.

The next day I woke up. I know that sounds crazy, but I was lucky to wake up at all. I could have died from alcohol poisoning from the amount of liquor I'd put away. The phone rang and it sounded as if it was the loudest thing in the world. I quickly turned it off.

My head was fuzzy, so fuzzy that I could barely think. I did remember that Mary Beth had left me. I threw up all over the tile of my kitchen floor. Why had I been sleeping on the floor in the kitchen?

The sound of my cleaning lady coming into the kitchen also focused me. She came in and smiled at me. Then she either saw or smelled the vomit and made a very ugly face.

"It's okay Mr. Alexander, I'll clean it up," she said. I got up and went upstairs to take a shower. I noticed that most of Mary Beth's clothes and jewelry were still there. Her clothes were everything to her. She was planning on coming back. I'd have to tell Burns to find out who she'd hired as an attorney and arrange for Mary Beth's things to be taken somewhere.

If she wanted out of the marriage, that was fine with me. I didn't blame her. I guess I was more hurt than anything else. It just goes to show you how little we know the people we love. I'd always thought that MB and I were forever. But the first spot of trouble and she goes running. I guess it didn't do her image any good to see in the papers that her husband had gotten some girl pregnant, even if it wasn't true.

I'd always thought that MB would stick with me through thick and thin. I guess it's good I found out now, that it wasn't the case. I got to my feet and slowly made my way up the stairs. I hadn't been this drunk since college. What did I do back then?

I took a long cold shower which focused my brain a little bit. Then I threw on some running shorts. I stopped off in my kitchen after that and drank a half a glass of orange juice and a handful of tiny twisted pretzels with cheese on them. I ate a couple of slices of my favorite Canadian Maple turkey and threw on my running shoes. It had been a while since I went out for a run. There usually just wasn't time for it while I was working so much.

The first few steps were the worst. My lungs burned and my head ached. After that I got into an easy rhythm and it was as if I'd never stopped running. Sure my pace wasn't as fast as I used to run, but this was about thinking and getting clear, not speed or distance. 

As I ran I took stock of my life. The main thing that most people worry about is survival. In real world terms, that meant having a place to live and food to eat. Those are the true necessities. For a man once those have been solved, the next things are a reason to be and someone or something to share it with. 

Suddenly I started smiling. I had enough money that I never had to work again unless I just wanted to. Food and shelter were a given. My house was in my name and paid for. Even in a divorce it would be difficult for Mary Beth to get the house. I could start moving money around instantly to cover myself in the divorce. Getting another job wouldn't be difficult once the Billie Jean thing died down. There'd be lots of companies that would be willing to give me a chance as soon as I cleared this shit up.

And as for Mary Beth, if I couldn't count on her when the going got rough, as bad as I felt right now, did I really need her? I was sure that when all of this was over she'd come crawling back to me. But I wasn't so sure I wanted her back.

When I got back from the run, my maid's car was gone. Mary Beth's car was in the driveway though. I quickly opened up the door. I was sure she'd be bent over the couch waiting for me. That was the way we always made up. Make up sex was the best. 

I stealthily opened the door and my heart almost popped out of my chest. Mary Beth was naked as a jaybird and bent over my three thousand dollar sofa alright. Only some guy I'd never seen before was pumping his dick in and out of her like there was no tomorrow. I watched for a few seconds before anyone was aware that I was there.

The weirdest thing about the scene was that the guy was doing his best to fuck the shit out of her, but MB was just lying there taking it. It just didn't seem like her at all. Then I noticed Tina sitting in a chair just watching them, as calmly as if she was watching it on TV.

I stepped into the room and grabbed the guy with both of my hands around his throat. I yanked him backwards out of my wife. Unlike what you read on the internet there was no popping sound as his dick came free. There was only the barest possible shattering sound as my already broken heart disintegrated even further.

The guy was slightly bigger than me but it didn't make a difference. He was already off balance from being pulled backwards out of MB. I slammed him down onto the hardwood floor and pistoned my fist into him several times. I hit him in the face and the stomach. Then I dragged him out the door and left him naked from the waist down in my driveway.

I turned to face Mary Beth and her sister. "Get the fuck out of my house," I said calmly. Tina sat there smiling. Mary Beth was shocked. The expression on her face let me know that this wasn't what she'd expected.

"Blake this isn't your house, it's ours," she said. "I live here too."

"Show me your name anywhere on the fucking mortgage, or anything else," I snapped.

"You filed for a fucking divorce. When we get to court, if a judge rules it, you might get the house. That is if I don't have my lawyers keep us out of court for 5 or 6 years, in the meantime I'll be living here without you. That is also only if I don't burn this fucking place to the ground before you move back in. More than likely in a divorce we'd have a fifty/fifty split of the assets and I'd make sure you didn't have enough money to buy me out of the place. Now go."

"Blake I don't really want a divorce. Tina said that if I filed, the reporters would find out about it and then leave me alone. I just felt so bad about you lying to me about this whole thing. Tina said that the only way for us to get even would be if I did something too. So we went out and I did some really bad things. And I'm sorry Blake, but it still didn't feel right," she said. "After I wrote you that note I knew it was wrong. I didn't really want to be away from from you. I love you too much for that. But Tina was right, I had to do something to let you know the pain that I was feeling. So I figured that letting that guy fuck me would hurt you, like you and Billie Jean hurt me. It didn't mean anything and he wasn't even any good. It was..."

"Mary Beth get the fuck out of my house and take your piece of shit sister with you," I snapped.

"Blake if I leave, I'm not coming back," she said. "Everyone knows how you've humiliated me in public with this whole fucking Billie Jean thing. If you'd just admitted it from the beginning and gave the little bitch some money it would be all over by now. But day after fucking day, I'm humiliated over and over again because of you. You should be kissing my ass to get me back."

I just started laughing. "Thanks MB," I said. "Last night I got so drunk I couldn't see. Not because I lost my fucking job or anything like that but because I was so upset about losing you. Now I see that I haven't lost shit. And don't worry about coming back. I'm sure our security system has footage of what you were doing with your boy toy. I'll use that when I counter-file for the divorce. We had a great marriage or so I thought. But once again I was wrong. I thought you were the person I wanted to see eternity with. I'm glad I found out that I was wrong so early in life and don't have to waste anymore of my time on you. Boy are you going to feel stupid when this is over, now go."

I went back upstairs for another shower. But this time I felt good about it. I realized then that I'd truly hit bottom so there was no way for things to get any worse. I was down as far as I could possibly go. The only way left for me to go was up. I even smiled at Tina as I flashed my middle finger at her on my way up the stairs. 

When I came back down the stairs after taking another longer, slower shower and changing into more comfortable clothing, I was ready for a more reasonable talk with Mary Beth. I'd listen to whatever she had to say but Tina had to go. Luckily as I looked around the house I discovered that both of them had already left.

My head was clearer and surprisingly I felt good. I know that it seems like I was in denial or shock. Some would think that I was running on adrenalin after all of the shocks I'd recently suffered. And maybe that was a part of it. I remember once when I'd been marketing a book by a famous psychologist that he'd written about divorces and infidelity. He seemed to think that if you could quickly just walk away from your spouse, then you had never really loved them in the first place. For years I'd believed him. But right then I wanted to sit down and talk with him about updating his theory.

I had loved Mary Beth for as long as I'd known her. But her actions had destroyed it. 

Walking in and catching her drunk and fucking some guy was just the tip of the ice berg. Her lack of faith in me had been the real deal breaker. As I thought about it, her not believing me wasn't even the worst of it. I remembered back a little over three weeks ago when this all started. She'd offered me a get out of jail card, if I confessed. That told me something even worse about all of this. She'd been willing to forgive and forget, me cheating on her. What she couldn't get past was simply her reputation being damaged by the negative publicity. 

So the woman I loved above all else, was vain above all else. Maybe she was right about all of this, we did have irreconcilable differences. Had the shoe been on the other foot, I'd have reacted totally different. I wouldn't have cared a whit, if every newspaper in the world thought she was a whore. I'd have proudly gone everywhere with her on my arm. But if she had actually cheated on me, that would have killed me. So what did she do? She went out and cheated on me. Game over we were done.

I was just trying to figure out how to explain all of that to her, when I realized that it might be best to give it a day or two before trying to contact her. We'd both probably said things that could have been said better. I was sure that the two of us were done, but I really wanted an amicable divorce.

Now I had to figure out what to do with myself. I decided to do one of my very favorite thinking activities. I went out to the garage and got out all of my car cleaning and detailing products. Back when I had a job I couldn't afford the time necessary to wash my car myself. I liked doing it but it just took too long to do it right.

Since I was a bum, I had all of the time in the world. It was early afternoon and I rinsed the car down to loosen all of the accumulated surface dirt. That was all it took to jog my memory. As I looked at the car it started me to thinking about the other Mustang. Myra had arranged for me to buy that car if I wanted it and I did. That got me to thinking about Myra. I pulled out my cell phone and called her.

"It's about time you called me," she snapped. "I can't take any more of this."

"Can't take any more of what?" I asked.

"Being out of work and sitting at home," she said. "My husband is at work and my kids are driving me crazy."

"Myra, you aren't out of work. There are probably 5 or 6 of the associates alone who'd want you. And if you didn't want to work for them there's always the pool," I said. "I'm the one who's out of work," I said. "Not you."

"There were more than ten who wanted me," she said. "But you kind of get used to working for the best. It took me too long to train you to how I like my boss to work."

"Ha, ha," I said. "When I first picked you, you couldn't even sharpen a pencil." We spent a few minutes laughing and reminiscing about things we'd done over the past few years.

"Blake, seriously," she said. "What did you think about Anthony's offer?"

"What offer?" I asked. As I said it I remembered talking to him the previous evening, but I couldn't remember a word of the conversation. "Oh, shit," I said. "He called me while I was drunk and depressed. I probably made a fool of myself. Well I guess that's off the table whatever it was."

"He wanted you to come to work for him," she said.

"Myra I love you, but you're deranged. I made more money last year in salary than his agency brought in. He can't afford me," I said. "But you know what," I said, thinking about it. "Maybe I should start my own agency. Myra, you're on vacation for the next couple of days, until I get some things straightened out. Be ready to go back to work. We'll negotiate your new salary and responsibilities as soon as we get a chance."

Why not? Why couldn't I start my own agency? Just as I was starting to consider how I'd go about it, my phone rang. 

"Mr. Alexander, I have some information for you," said Sarah. "I've found out where she lives, but still no sign of where the baby is. She has a boyfriend. A guy named believe it or not Carmen San Diego. I have no known address for him either. I believe she has someone looking after the child while she's been in Cali. Mr. Maitland has been trying to find out things about her too, may I share our information with him as well?"

"Yes Sarah, please do that. And share it with Miss Martinez as well, "I said "Although in her case you might not want to mention that I asked you to. I'd imagine she'd pretty pissed at me for the articles in the paper."

After the call from Sarah, I started imagining what the logo for my new agency would look like. I saw two crossed A's. Alexander Advertising. I was just rotating the image in my mind when the phone rang again.

"Damn it, Blake, I can't keep up with you," said Burns. "As soon as we get off the fucking plane, I'm bombarded with questions about your divorce and who's getting what. Then this morning, before I can even call you to ask you how you'd like to proceed Mary Beth calls me, crying. Not her lawyer, Mary Beth herself. In all of the years I've known the two of you I've never heard her cry. The woman is usually as composed as a beauty queen. But she was bawling her fucking eyes out. I told her that I shouldn't be speaking to her that it's unethical. She should have her lawyer call me. She told me that she wants to stop the divorce proceedings immediately and that she'd made a terrible mistake. How am I supposed to tell the fucking reporters that there isn't going to be a divorce? Should I just tell them that the whole thing was from someone being misquoted?"

"Monty, who do you work for?" I asked. 

"You Blake," he said. 

"Have I asked you to stop the divorce?" I asked.

"Well, uhm, no," he said. "But I..."

"No buts, Monty, get back to work," I said and hung up.

Just as I was about to dip my microfiber towel in my bucket of Turtle wax car wash solution, a car pulled up in my driveway.

Caesar Anthony got out of it.

"You look better than you sounded on the phone last night," he said.

"I still feel like shit, Seize, but I'm going to take it one day at a time," I said.

"Same old Blake," he said.

"Nope," I said. "This is a totally new, far more driven Blake, standing in front of you. I'm like a guy in a bar fight. While I've been sitting here drinking on my stool, not bothering a soul, some asshole comes up and sucker punched me. That's really what Billie Jean did, she sucker punched me. I didn't know what was going on and my whole world just went to shit. There was nothing I could do about it but absorb the punches and let everyone get their shots in. Lately the punches have kept coming but I've suddenly got my guard up. I've taken some steps both here and in Florida to get that guard up and I'm defending myself against those punches now." I took up a boxing stance and held my hands up in front of me so he could see them.

"So Seize, if you've come here to gloat or to take your shot at kicking me while I'm down, get on with it but remember, I won't be down forever. Long before anyone expects it, I'll be on my way back up. And this time I'll aim even higher."

"You know," he said. "Last night I understood it. You were upset about the whole Billie Jean thing. Then on top of that, your wife files for a divorce while you're out of town. But maybe you should take a look at yourself too, Blake. All through college you and I competed with each other. Sometimes it was tooth and nail. But it was always in my mind, a friendly competition, based on mutual respect."

He paused and looked at me. "We competed because we both wanted to be the best, but we never cheated. And we never kicked each other when we were down. Something else I remember about you Blake. You always had class. Remember when you broke up with that cheerleader...Sue Anne something or other? I started dating her about a week after you two broke up. I never knew it but she was just trying to use me to get back with you. When you ran into us, you didn't whine or act like a little bitch or try to get macho. You came over shook my hand and wished us well."

I smiled remembering what he was talking about.

"Then in our sophomore year, Mandy Grayson dumped me," he said. "That bitch put me through hell. I knew she was trying to go after you, but you didn't give her the time of day. I'd been trying to get myself ready so I could handle the situation in as classy a way as you had, but I didn't think I could, I was still too hurt. I still remember you coming over to me and telling me, that the true measure of a man isn't the respect he gets from his friends, but the respect he gets from his opponents. And you respected me too much to go after Mandy when A she wasn't worthy of me anyway and B there were plenty of other women around."




Billie Jean



He just shook his head. "I thought about both situations then Blake and I realized a few things. Number one as soon as she found out that you weren't going to try to get back with her Sue Anne dropped me like a hot rock. She was using me to get back at you and I fell for it. Everyone I knew told me that you'd go after Mandy and turn about was fair play. But you were above all of that then. That's the way I see it now."

"I didn't come here to gloat or to rub your face in anything. I came here to offer you a job," he said. And he turned and started walking back to his car.

"Wait Seize," I called. "What did you have in mind?"

We spent the rest of the afternoon talking. There were a few things of interest to both of us. Our strengths actually complemented each other. Caesar was an executive. He was great at delegating and running the business. He needed an office manager to handle all of the paperwork and clerical things, but the whole executive profile fit him to a tee.

I on the other hand, hate all of the bullshit socializing and company to company get-togethers. I hate paper work and employee evaluations. I hate signing requisitions for paperclips and toner. Shit, I rarely get to work on time. I do one thing really fucking well. Sell advertising campaigns. I'm very good at meeting clients and telling them what I can do for them, but after that I have just enough contact with them to plan out what we'll do for their account and then show it to them for their feedback. After that I'm back hunting for new business.

This was a good thing. It meant that we wouldn't get on each other's toes. But the bottom line was as I had already told Myra, I made four million dollars the previous year. CA associates only sold 1.5 million dollars in total sales for that same period of time. He simply could not come anywhere close to affording me. 

It wasn't that I was above coming down in salary, it would simply be crazy for me to put myself in a situation where I'd be working in a smaller company and doing much more work for much less compensation.

"Well, I guess it just wasn't meant to be, Blake," he said. "But I'm sure you'll bounce back."

Suddenly I had what I thought was the answer. "Seize how much is your company worth?" I asked.

"Well my banker tried to get two million dollars from a consortium that wanted to buy us out, but they balked and bought another similar company," he said.

"Okay let's say that is your current value then," I said. "Sell me half of it. We'll be partners. 50/50."

He thought about the idea and we dickered. We came up with the idea that he and I would each own 45 percent of the company. We would look over everyone who worked for us over the next few days and divide the remaining 10 percent of the company between the employees who remained with us. We'd probably have to re-staff and make a few other decisions, including hiring more associates, but we could work out the details later. It was nearly six o'clock California time and he had an engagement planned for the evening.

As he drove off, I was actually happy. The partnership I'd worked so hard for at McMillan Worth, was finally mine albeit at a far smaller company...for now. I called Myra.

"Hello," she said answering her phone.

"What the hell are you doing?" I yelled. Before she could figure out what was going on, I continued. "Get your ass back to work, tomorrow, 9 a.m."

"So I take you accepted the job from Anthony," she smirked. "What would you like your loyal assistant to do first?"

"Nope," I smirked back. "I bought half of his company."

There was silence on the line.

"Myra the first thing I want you to do is get my Florida car paid for. You still have all of my account info right? And after that I need you to interview and hire a new assistant for me."

"Why would you need a new assistant?" she asked. "What's wrong with me?"

"Myra, you're going to be the office manager and a minor stockholder." Before I could finish she was screaming and crying.

"I can't wait to go back to McMillan Worth to clean out my desk," she said.

After hanging up the phone, I wandered around my house. It felt empty. I guess no matter how nice the house may be, without someone to share it with, it's really just a big box to keep your stuff in. It takes love and memories to make a house into a home. I went into the kitchen and remembered that less than a day ago; I'd been at the lowest point in my life and still headed downwards. I'd stopped falling and had reached a solid bottom so now I could only head for the top.

The soft buzzing at my hip startled me. It wasn't the house phone it was my cell phone.

"Mr. Alexander," the voice was quiet and tentative with just a trace of an accent, mostly on the vowels and a few consonants. I recognized it but I wasn't sure who it belonged to.

"Yes," I said. Shit it could be another reporter.

"I'm not angry with you," she said. "I realize that what happened in the papers was not your fault. Is your life always that way?"

"Yep, all the time," I said.

"And I wanted to tell you that I'm sorry about you losing your marriage over this. Somehow it just doesn't seem fair. Everything about this seems funny. You claim this is not your child, yet you step forward to take responsibility, just in case. Meanwhile neither I or my people can find any information about the child or his living conditions while the mother is across the country going on TV shows, talking about how all she wants is Justice and the best for a child she left nearly a month ago and has not been home to visit since."

"Thank you, Miss Martinez," I said. "It makes me feel good to know that the Florida State officials are interested in finding out the truth."

"You can call me Helena," she said. "I'm not in the office right now."

We actually spent the rest of the evening on the phone. It was one of the most pleasant conversations I'd had in a long time. I told her about how all of the Billie Jean stuff had begun. And about my life in general. She sympathized with me about the stupid way that this whole situation had destroyed my feelings for Mary Beth and our marriage.

When I asked her about why someone as attractive as she was wasn't out with her boyfriend or husband, she filled me in on her life. Her personal tragedy was nearly as sad as my own. She'd been in three relationships during her whole life and all of them had ended in part to her physical attributes or the way people thought she was because of them.

Her first boyfriend had wooed her during college. It took her months to become comfortable enough with him to give herself to him and it turned out, that he was only a very patient predator. His only intention from the beginning had been to as she later heard from a mutual friend, "To get his hands on those Tig Ass Bitties."

Once she'd heard about this, she'd dumped him with extreme prejudice. To make the breakup even more painful, she'd called him over and had him bring a couple of friends on the pretense of helping her move some heavy furniture. Once they'd arrived, she met him at the door in only a very low cut sweater with no bra. While his eyes nearly exploded, she'd told him to start by putting the boxes on her porch into his car.

"What's in the boxes, babe?" he'd asked.

"All of your shit," she'd replied. "Take it all home with you, we're done. And you should probably take a picture of these," she said leaning forward towards him. "Because you'll never see or touch them again."

Her second lover was one of her professors a couple of years later. That had been a mistake from the beginning. He'd given her all of the classic lines about how his wife didn't understand him. She'd been flattered by the attention from an older more sophisticated man, he had more experience and was far more gentle than all of the boys who constantly followed her breasts around. 

In the end it came down just the same to quickies in cheap hotels and in his office after hours. The final straw was when she actually met his wife. The callous, conniving bitch who didn't understand him and made his life a living hell, turned out to be a very sweet, caring woman who loved her husband an incredible amount and was completely devoted to him. The worse thing was that she actually invited Helena to their home so she could seek extra help from the professor. The poor woman truly believed that her husband loved her as much as she loved him. She had no idea of what a bastard he was.

The finale of Helena's romantic escapades had come from an old friend whom she'd lost touch with. When they reconnected at a picnic for her mom's church, she'd become very interested in him. Perhaps someone she'd grown up around, who shared a similar background and upbringing might be the answer.

Life had thrown him a few lemons, but he was trying to rise above his station. He'd just gotten out of jail and was looking for a job. Over a few months, depression from not finding the perfect job had escalated until she found herself screaming at him to just take any fucking job and stop mooching off of her. He could probably find something if he'd get off her fucking couch and turn off the play station. He'd gone out and gotten drunk. The argument that followed led to him hitting her.

Before he could apologize she'd called the cops and gotten him removed. She set all of his stuff outside where he could find it. There was no going back from that. She worked all day long with women who were the victims of abuse. She'd never allow herself to become one of them. She took several pictures of herself with her face swollen up, as a reminder of what she would look like. It had been more than enough to deter her from going out with anyone she even thought had a temper.

Before we knew it we'd talked the evening away. She didn't want to get off of the phone, but I reminded her that she had work tomorrow.

"Don't you?" she asked. I laughed realizing that after less than a day, I was no longer unemployed.

The next few days were a flurry of activity. Anthony-Alexander LLC was getting ready to open for business. We rented out a much larger office suite and bought equipment. Caesar Anthony had misgivings about it. "We can't really afford this yet. We don't have any clients," he said.

"Don't worry," I told him. "Our first step is to get set up. After that the rest will handle itself or we'll handle it."

Seize shrugged his shoulder and threw himself into it. We retained his personal assistant and hired a new girl to serve as mine. We got rid of all but three of the associates he had. We'd spent time reviewing all of their records and most of his people had not been working very hard to bring in business. We kept the three top performers and intended to hire at least three more. Myra became our office manager and oversaw the whole thing.

We bought computers and printers and got a network set up. After a flurry of activity during which time the Billie Jean thing seemed to be dying down we sat back to look at what we'd accomplished.

Caesar, Myra and I were proud of ourselves. "What do we do now?" he asked me. 

"Hold that thought Seize," I said my phone was ringing.

"We need to talk. We're not happy at all." I'd heard the voice described by her husband as "Somewhere between low and high pitched with nothing in between."

When we first met she'd been the editor of his first book, a book that had gone on to become a best seller and a great movie as well. The advertising campaign I'd done for that book had been one of my first big successes.

Now Marissa was a successful author herself, but she still helped with her husband's projects as well as her own.

"What's wrong Marissa?" I asked. 

"You tell me," she said. "I know you're busy being a media darling these days but what's with this whole "Indefinite Leave" thing?"

"It's complicated M," I said. "But let's suffice it to say that I'm no longer with McMillan Worth."

"Okay, then let's suffice it to say that Tyler and I are not happy with the people that McMillan worth have assigned to his new book and we're going to the publisher to tell them that we want a different ad agency. Who are you with now?"

"Anthony-Alexander LLC," I said.

"Ooh, we're dealing with an owner," she said. "We're going to have to work fast. The book comes out in two months, and six weeks after that my new book comes out. That way we can do our summer book tours together. How soon can you get here so we can figure this out?"

"I'll be there tomorrow, I'll have Myra call you with my arrangements," I said.

"Good, Tyler really wants to talk to you." she said as she hung up.

I put the phone down and turned back to our conversation. I had the strangest look on my face. "Oh my fucking God" I said. I had the same look on my face that a shark gets when it's released into a tank of smaller fish.

"What's wrong?" asked Myra.

"Yeah, are you okay?" asked Caesar.

"Remember how when you're let go from McMillan Worth you're given a non-compete waiver to sign. If you don't sign it you aren't given your severance package," I said.

"Most companies have something like that," said Caesar.

"I didn't have to sign one," said Myra.

"You were only an assistant there," volunteered Caesar.

"I quit and didn't sign shit," I said smiling.

"What exactly does that mean?" he asked.

"And why do you have that funny look on your face?" asked Myra.

"It means tomorrow, I'm flying to Illinois to talk to our first two potential clients. If we do well here, we could end up with all of their publisher's business." I smiled again. 

"That would be a pretty nice chunk of change, but all it really means..." I smiled even more. "Is that hunting season is open. When I get back from Illinois I'll start making some calls. Seize pack your shit, we have to make some plans. Within two weeks we're going to Paris."

"You're not seriously going to...?" began Myra smiling.

"Why not?" I asked. "McMillan Worth doesn't officially have the account yet and it's a ten million dollar deal."

Less than a day later I looked out from the inside of a beautiful but not ostentatious house at a pool. In a chair with his back turned towards me sat Tyler Collins. He watched as four kids played around in the pool. I knew three of the four. One was Tyler and Marissa's daughter. Her brother, Ben was the product of Tyler's previous marriage. Even stranger was the fact that the last child I recognized was the step brother of Tyler's son Ben. The boy was Tyler's ex wife's step son. I didn't recognize the youngest child but I had my suspicions.

It struck me as amazing the way that kids could just get together and play and have a good time regardless of who they were and who they came from. They just wanted to have a good time. There was universal acceptance. If you were "nice" they liked you.

Second chances were granted so easily. All it took was an "I'm sorry," and they could be friends again.

I stepped out onto the deck and got a wave from the kids, which caused Tyler to turn and see me.

He looked a little worried, which was unusual for him. Tyler was normally pretty easy going. He smiled as I came over. I saw a thick stack of newspapers next to him. 

"Research?" I asked him. He nodded and just pointed to his diet Pepsi.

I shook my head. "Straight to business as usual, huh?" he asked.

"Let's get the bad stuff out of the way first," I said.

"You mean the easy stuff?" he said. I nodded.

"I love to write," he said. "I just need a subject that grabs me and the words just come. They lift off the pages. It's almost as if the books write themselves. But it's strange because technically, Marissa is a far better writer than I am. She knows all of the stuff about punctuation, building tension, word usage and formatting. Without her editing most of my stuff wouldn't be half as good. My gift is the ability to simply tell a story. To find something that people find interesting and frame it in a way that they want to read it. It's almost like I'm a spot light and Marissa is the lens that varies my intensity."

I knew that Tyler Collins was crazy smart. It sometimes took me a while before I caught up to him. Either that or the fact that I'd received a call from Sarah that morning at the airport that confirmed one of my suspicions. Luckily for me Sarah had called first and warned me as usual. The woman's list of contacts in a city she didn't live in was amazing.

"Anyway, Marissa and I don't like the way McMillan Worth wants to do our ads," he said.

"Let me guess, since this is your first non-mystery book, you'd like to feature ads that are outside of the normal literary advertizing spectrum. Since the potential for a movie tie-in is even greater this time around you're looking for more market saturation. What we want to do is release the ads in more and more varied types of media outlets to reach a broader audience than just general readers and mystery readers," I said.

"Exactly," said Marissa, chiming in. "Why can't that idiot they assigned to us see that?"She asked.

"And I had an idea for you too Rissa," I said. "Have you ever heard of the SyFy network?"

"Yeah," she smiled. "They do all of those really cheesy movies but a lot of their series' are great. I really like the one about the town where all of those scientific geniuses live. Tyler and I watch it all the time."

"What I'm trying to arrange is for you to host one of their Saturday night movies. You'd come on and talk about the book after every commercial and lead back into the cheesy movie. That way before we even release the book you've got all of the sci fi geeks curious about it," I told her. I could tell she was enthused by the idea.

"Okay, it's official," said Tyler. "You're hired." Marissa nodded and went to make yet another phone call.

"We could have done this over the phone Tyler. What did you really want to talk about?" I asked. Having known Tyler for years I knew that there were things he wanted to know. He had the sensitive soul of an artist. He could very often discern things that were not readily available to the average person just by observance.

"I've had questions, during this whole thing, but now after seeing you. I have my answers," he said. I was still confused.

"You didn't so this," he said. "When I look at you I can see a mixture of a lot of things. I see pain. If you were guilty of this there'd be frustration because it won't end or because you thought you'd gotten away with it. But from the pain you have at what you're going through and what it cost you I can tell that you didn't do this."

"Well thanks for the belief," I said. "You don't know how much that means."

"Here's the hard part," he said. "When this is all over would you sit down with me and fill me in on all of the details?"

I looked at him strangely.

"I guess I'd like to write the story as my next book," he said. "So I want to know the whole thing. I'd like to interview you and as many of the key players as possible," he said.

I picked up my cell phone as it interrupted his thought. 

"Yeah Mr. Maitland, I'm here," I said as Tyler's eyes went huge. I put the phone on speaker so Tyler could hear the conversation.

"Blake, I'm afraid I don't have good news for you and you can call me Bill. That girl Sarah of yours is incredible she's coming up with leads that my own guys can't track down and they live here. Anyway like you figured the DNA is inconclusive but we can only come up with a 79% certainty. The state requires 85% minimum, but it's close enough that we're going to retest and proceed with the paternity hearing. It's going to take longer because we're going to use a more definitive test," he said. "Unfortunately with our computers that will take longer, probably six to eight weeks, but we won't release the results until we have definite proof."




Billie Mason



All characters are fictional.

Please do not contact any of the real Billie Mason's of the world and ask them if they are the person in the story. Lets face it, that would just be rude. 

*

If you Google Billie Mason you will find a number of Linkedin accounts, some Facebook pages etc. You will also find Billie Mason age 42. Born in Madison Wisconsin, 5'7" 105 lbs, strawberry blonde, alabaster skin, freckles, long leg, slender build with medium breasts. If you do some more digging you will quickly learn she has been in 27 movies, and appeared in various television shows. Net worth is an estimated at 53 million. She lives in Southern California in a middle income neighborhood. Where she lives with her boyfriend and dog both named Max. The most popular question she is asked is "How did she end up with both a dog and a boy friend named Max." She always answers that her dog is named after Max in How the Grinch Stole Christmas, and by the time she meet her boyfriend, he was too old to change his name, and besides she only has to remember one name at home.

What you will not find are any racy photos or gossip. She lives a quiet life, does not get arrested, attending outrageous parties, or take extravagant vacations. In short, her life is quiet and uneventful. Because of this the paparazzi leaves her alone. she, and her boyfriend enjoy eating at a local Italian place, where she is called Billie, not Miss Mason. Her picture is not on the wall. And the Alfred sauce is thick and creamy.

If you query Billie on YouTube you will find various clips of her acting career. The most watched clip is from a talk show, where the host asked "How is sex with Max Thick, and does he live up to name?" I guess this would be a good time to introduce myself. I am Billies boyfriend, Maxwell Thicke, no relation to Canadian actor Alan Thicke. She blushed. That by itself would never have made such a popular clip. What made it so popular was a standup comedian was also on the show. He literally fell out of his seat laughing. Once he caught his breath he did 15 minutes about how with a name like Max Thicke, I must be a porn actor. I have watched the video many times, and it always makes me laugh.

Why am I telling you all this? Because I want you to understand how lucky I am to know the real Billie. And right now I am standing at the airport waiting for her to arrive

When she came down the ramp, I was waiting for her and pulled her into a tight hug. She melted into my arms. We kissed hello, a light proper kiss, like everyone else. We walked hand in hand to the bagged claim, where I grabbed her bags before we left.

During the 30 minute drive home we talked and she told me about being on another talk show, and when it would air, after we talked about Max, the dog. No, I don't refer to myself in the 3rd person.

Once we got home, I opened a bottle of wine and we settled down on the couch to watch some TV and relax. I stroked her hair as she rested on her head on my lap. In a sleepy voice she said "Master, may Your whore suck Your cock?" If you think I answered any way except yes, you would be mistaken.

she unzipped my pants, freed my cock and with a moan she began sucking me. I grabbed her pony tail and set the pace. Soon my cock was covered in a slick film of her saliva. The fact that I came in the matter of minutes is a testament to her oral skills. I kept a firm grip on her hair and growled my pleasure as she moaned and drained me. 

I pulled a blanket over her as she laid there, the tip of my cock touching her smiling lips, and she fell asleep. When the movie was over, I carried her to our bed, she barely stirred. I settled into bed next to her and read for a few hours. 

When I woke in the morning I smelled bacon and eggs, and there was Billie, holding my breakfast. My eyes traveled from the plate to her body, she was wearing a semitransparent baby doll top and a pair of bouy shorts, I let my eyes linger and she stood there smiling. I sat up and enjoyed breakfast. Bacon and eggs with goat cheese on toast, a cup of rich coffee, lightly sweetened and a grapefruit. The grapefruit was not for me, it is what she always eats for breakfast. Please do not think the grapefruit is what I allow her. she was eating it every morning for years before we met. As we ate I could see the slight sheen on sweet still on her arms. She always remained warm for about an hour after her morning workout. Again not my idea, she says it invigorates her, and I can't argue with the results. Once breakfast was devoured, I escorted her to the shower, where I spent 20 glorious minutes washing her. Once she was clean I lowered myself between her legs and tasted her sweet pussy, she moaned, and was soon asking for permission to cum. I love the way her voice shakes when asks for permission. her juices are sweet with a bit of citrus flavor. When her legs could again support her, I raised up kissed her, sharing her flavor with her. she moaned. 

After drying her, I picked out a summer dress for her to wear to the Zoo. I should explain the Zoo is her indulgence. The one place she allows people to treat her like a celebrity, to a point. Billie gives very generously to the Zoo and as such we are given access very few are allowed. Once when she inquired about tiger cub, she was told that is was out in for public viewing, but would be retrieved for her immediately. she stated firmly that if they did that, they would never get another donation from her. The dumb founded look on their faces were priceless. her favorite exhibit is the gorillas. In particular a male named Sonjan, she has always enjoyed watching the way other gorillas interact with him. Though he is not the biggest or the strongest, all of them take him as their leader. Once while enjoying an afterhours viewing of them, we saw Sonjan walk over to a female gorilla grab her by the hips and fuck her, very hard. Billie was very turned on by this. Not that watching animal's sexual nature turns her on. It was the way Sonjan took the female, and the way she submitted to him.

After spending most of the day at the Zoo, we stopped at the local Italian place, where we were greeted with a kiss on both cheeks, as all regular customers were and shown to a table. We both enjoyed a glass of wine and a light dinner before heading home.

As soon as the house door closed behind us, I slapped her ass, and told her to prepare herself for me. With a smile she went into the bedroom and returned wearing only one of my button down shirts with only one button done midway down. The inside curve of her breasts were visible, as was her flat stomach, and the small strip of public hair she called her landing strip. Without a word she came over to where I was sitting, and kneeled, offering herself to me.

I lead her to our play room, where I tied up her hands above her head, and positioned her so she was facing the large mirror. I took my time touching her lightly, and raining kisses on every inch of exposed skin, until she was so excited her pussy juices were running down her legs. Still I continued to touch her, kiss her, lick her, and spank her, until with a trembling voice she begged me to fuck my whore. I grab her hips, pulled them back, so she was bent at the waist, and I fucked her, hard. she screamed and moaned like a whore. Her legs shook, her tits swayed, her cunt clamped down on my cock as she begged for permission to cum. I drove my cock deep into her again and gave her the permission she so desperately sought. her legs gave out of she screamed with pleasure and came on my cock. I grunted, bit her shoulder and came deep inside her. I wrapped an arm around her, not to keep her from falling, the restraints would do that. I wrapped my arm around her for the closeness. I kissed her neck and tasted the salt of her sweat, then carefully removed the restraints and lowered her to the soft rug on the floor where I joined her. Slowly she moved her head so she could clean my cock with her mouth. I lay back and enjoyed the both the physical and mental pleasure. When she was satisfied that I was properly clean, she laid her head on my shoulder. We slept for a bit. When we woke I guided her into the bathroom, where we took a hot bath. Again I washed her. Taking my time, enjoying.



Billie



"You don't even have an organization behind you, how can you promise their support if you don't represent them?" 

"Well, we can try to help you campaign in the dorms...." Only to be cut short again. 

"That's not a sure thing, and we doubt if you can deliver any more than your two votes in any election." Suddenly, all the logical arguments she had thought would help seemed to make no sense to the now-dizzy Billie, and she was getting no support from Kelli on this.

Kelli was smiling. "Of course we understand you have to get something in return for your support..." She paused to put down her glass and reach over with a hand to each side, and place them on the thighs of the men on her couch. "Let's get down to the bottom line. How about if both Billie and I agree to "date" each of the officers between now and the election, can we get your support, then?"

Billie's breath caught in her throat at this offer, and she stopped breathing. She looked around at each man with wide eyes, and thought to herself..."well, they ARE kinda cute. Maybe that wouldn't be so bad," and said nothing, but waited for a response. 

Phil was the first to speak up. "No, no, that won't do it." Both girls' hearts sank. "Just dating the six of us won't get you the support of the whole fraternity. They'll take our recommendations only so far. They have to get to know you both.

Kelli spoke, "ALL of them? You expect both of us to put out to ALL the fraternity members? What is that, 30 or 40 guys?" "What do you think we are, a couple of whores?" Logic, at this point had escaped her. 

Pat got a sly look on his face. "No, no, certainly NOT," he exclaimed, "we wouldn't support a couple of whores to be Campus Queen. But, at the same time, you can understand we have to support girls we know really well, don't you?"

He waited. Both girls nodded. "And we can't expect our brothers to support someone they don't like, right?"

Pat waited until he got nods. "So, why don't we do it this way....each of you will date half the Seniors in the fraternity, then, if they're all agreeable, we'll promise you the fraternity's support in the election.?"

Both girls thought this over a minute, asked several questions, and ended with Kelli asking, "How many seniors are there, and how do we choose who dates which half?" 

Seeing they were agreeable to some sort of arrangement, Pat said, "There are a total of 12 seniors in the fraternity, the six officers here and six more. Each of you can date three officers, and three of the other seniors, for a total of six dates each. Three of the men not here will call each of you and arrange a date, and three of us will each call one of you and arrange a date, also. How's that?"

Billie looked at Kelli, who was busy looking at the growing bulges she was running her hands over, and Kelli nodded. "That sounds all right," Billie finally replied, although the math totally escaped her at the moment, slurring her words just a little from the effects of the "cokes" and the male hands now caressing her bare thighs, "we have an agreement." With that, there was a loud cheer from the men, and the ones on each side of Kelli and Billie gave them a big congratulatory hug.

"Remember," added Pat, "each of your dates has to be in agreement to get our support!" "And I think it's time we had a show of good faith on your girl's part, don't you?"

As he was saying this, Phil, who had grabbed Billie at the earlier meeting, again slid his arm behind her, and the other hand under her thighs, and scooped her into his lap. Looking into her surprised, somewhat fuzzy eyes, he again pressed his mouth to hers. 

"Noooom," gasped Billie, but then was swept away by his big mouth moving on her full lips, and his tongue entering her half-open mouth. He moved slower this time, and she wasn't so startled by his actions. Almost immediately, she started kissing him back. Her small arms went around his neck, and she darted her little tongue into his mouth, where he began to suck on it. Her reactions slowed by the alcohol, his big hand sliding up the inside of her thigh went largely unnoticed by her mind, but her body was responding by parting her knees to allow him greater access.

The men on either side of Kelli turned to her, and began softly kissing her neck and shoulders, where the off-the-shoulder neckline bared them. They were also running one hand up the inside of each thigh, to meet at her moist panties, and they began to stroke her mons mound through her panties. One man kissed a panting Kelli on her soft lips, while the other slid his free hand under the sweater onto her bare tummy. This got a quick response of a little shudder from Kelli. She increased the caressing she'd already been doing on their hard pricks. This got them all to breathing harder, and the temperature in the room went up even more. She began frantically kissing them both, back and forth, crushing her lips to first one, then the other, their tongues moving inside her wet lips. " Mmmmmmmmmm, mmmmmmm," she hummed.

Meanwhile, Billie was still kissing Phil, running her hands around his neck, and sucking on his tongue. Phil was gently caressing her thigh and sliding his fingers over the moist strip of panty covering her virgin vagina, which caused her to squirm against his erect penis inside his pants. It got harder, and bigger. Their couch-mate, who had been taking all this in, was beginning to feel left-out, so he slid over closer and grasping the bottom of Billie's sweater, lifted it to expose her trim tummy, and slid his hands around her from behind, rubbing and caressing the exposed flesh. 

She sighed, and kissed Phil harder, not knowing why. Ooooooo, everything felt so goooood...when the man behind her slid both hands up to the bottom of her perky tits, he got even more excited to find them unencumbered by a bra. He lifted them from the bottom, and squeezed them gently and moved his fingers over her taut nipples, making them rise even harder and larger off her tit-flesh. 

Billie gasped, then moaned into Phil's mouth. What were they doing to her? Oooooooo it just felt better and better...."I've got to stop them from doing this," Billie thought, "Not in front of all these other people, here in daylight where everyone can see everything...but, ohhhhhh, just a little more, it feels sooooo good."

The man behind her tightened his grip, and started massaging her firm tits, kneading and caressing them and pulling on her nipples. Overwhelmed by the sensations her body was sending, she let her slim thighs part some more, and Phil slid his hand inside the leg band of her panties and up and down her moist vaginal slit, eliciting more groans into his open mouth, where her little tongue was darting around and around. 

"Oh, I've got to make them stop this," Billie thought, "this is soooo naughty and wicked..." She pulled her mouth away from Phil's and looked across at Kelli on the other couch. What she saw made her gasp.

Kelli was sitting with her legs over the legs of the boys on either side of her, still kissing first one, then the other, passionately. Her sweater was missing, and the boys took turns suckling her large titties. Her panties were on the floor, and each boy was sliding a finger in-and-out of Kelli's wet, hot vagina. Kelli was moaning, and wriggling her butt and humping up at the fingers that were setting her on fire!

"Oooooooo...that's so naughty," thought Billie, before the man behind her grasped the bottom of her sweater with both hands and slid it up her body, and she automatically raised her arms and allowed it to be pulled over her head and off her slim arms. "Sooooo naughty." Phil again captured her lips and she went back to enthusiastically kissing him.

Pat, across the room, nudged Steve, "See," he whispered, "I told you we'd get her ...and Kelli as a bonus. That damn Phil always has to rush things, and almost scared her off."

"Yeah, man," Steve enthused, "you're right, as usual. I can't wait to get a piece of that!"

"Just take it easy," Pat counseled, "we've lots of time, let's not mess it up by rushing them too much."

"O.K., you've always been right before," Steve agreed, "but I'm so hard my dick might explode." With that, he took out his sizeable prick and started rubbing it. "Damn, that looks hot."

Phil released Billie's lips, and eased her back into the man behind her, who was massaging her tits, and nibbling her neck, and then turned her head to kiss him. She responded with enthusiasm. Kissing felt sooooo gooood...

Meanwhile, Phil slid both hands under her bubble-butt, grasped the waist of her panties, and pulled them down off her trim hips, down her slim thighs, over her rounded knees and calves, and off over her tiny size 4 shoes, to drop onto the floor. She was still wriggling her buns over his hard prick when he ran his big hands back up to grasp a firm butt-cheek in each hand and lift her hips up to his waiting mouth as he moved to his knees on the floor. He kissed her pussy lips like he'd been kissing her lips, and laved his tongue over her vaginal slit and into the labia. 

Billie jerked and quivered, knowing she must stop this, it was getting out of hand, but without the willpower to do so. And, it felt sooooo gooood... Her clitoris popped out between the labia, and Phil lovingly lapped at it. "Ooohhhhh...Oooohhhhh," Billie moaned, pulling her lips away from the man kissing her, (what was his name?) and her mouth dropped open, as she continued gasping and moaning, arching her back to bring her hips closer to Phil's mouth. 

Now Phil lowered her little butt back onto the couch cushions. Not losing contact with his mouth, he quickly started undoing his pants, and slipped them to his knees, along with his shorts. Billie was now laying on the couch, with one foot over Phil's shoulder, her head in the other man's lap, (who was that?) her tiny hands rubbing and encouraging his hands to fondle her breasts.

On the other couch, Kelli had been turned around to sit on the lap of one of the men fondling her hot body, facing him. His prick was sticking up between their bellies, and the other man was standing behind the couch, his pants on the floor, while Kelli lovingly stroked and licked his hard cock. He grasped the back of her head with both hands, and placed his cock on her lips, running it back and forth. When Kelli opened her mouth, he pulled her lips over his cock, slowly entering her wet, hot mouth. 

At the same time, the boy under her lifted her hips slightly and centered his prick on her vaginal opening, which was already swollen and starting to part her slippery-wet labia. With a sudden jerk upwards, he pulled Kelli's hips down, and his prick slid all the way up into her tight hole. Kelli screamed, but the sound was muffled by the prick in her mouth. Kelli used her leg and hip muscles, assisted by the man's hands, and started an up-down, in-out motion, while swirling her firm butt in circles. God! That felt soooooo good! She started sucking cock in earnest, her cheeks hollowing as the prick withdrew, and puffing out as it returned to the warm depths of her mouth. This was heaven! For all three of them. The man she was fucking bent and started sucking on her big tits.

Phil stood, losing contact with Billie's clit, and her eyes slitted half-open to see him standing with his erect penis pointing at her wet pussy. "Nooooo..."she breathed, "I can't do this...I'm a virgin!" But she made no move to sit up or get away. 

Phil stared incredulously, "You're a virgin? For real?" 

"Yes," she whimpered, "I've never...done it before..." 

"Damn!" said Phil, "this is gonna be great! Don't worry, honey, I'll be real good to you." With that, he ran his cock head up and down her pussy furrow, wetting the tip, slowly parted her labia with it, and started easing it into her tight pussy.

"Uuuuhhhhhhh," moaned Billie, not from pain, but because the smooth cockhead felt soooo good! Phil pushed a little harder, and more prick entered, slowly. This was feeling better all the time! Pat and Steve had heard her say she was a virgin, and gathered at the back of the couch to watch her de-flowering with intense excitement. 

Now Billie was moaning continuously, "Ummmmmm, ahhhhh, ooohhhhh..." as it felt better and better to take in more and more cockmeat. She could feel herself stretching, and it felt heavenly. Phil's cock ran up against her maidenhead, and he continued his slow, steady penetration, until his way was blocked by her stretching hymen. Billie could feel herself stretching, and it felt great! Phil pulled back, and returned, stretching her more, and back, and, taking a deep breath, slammed in with all the power he could muster! There was an audible "pop" as her hymen tore, one little stab of pain, and he was in her all the way past her cervix. Billie screamed, and had an orgasm from the intense pleasure/pain. Her hips jerked and trembled, then shuddered to a stop. She had passed out.

There was a general cheer went up from the other people in the room, led by her roomie, Kelli, who had stopped her pneumatic action on both pricks invading her body to watch. Then Kelli started pumping again, with her pussy, her hand, and her mouth, rapidly bringing both men to a climax, along with herself. The dick in her pussy came first, spurting up into her womb, and setting off an orgasm in her wrenching pussy. Kelli stopped sucking and withdrew the prick from her mouth to concentrate on cumming, and to squeal, moan, and whimper her release. 

As she came down from the sexual high, she tugged the boy behind the couch, and said, "Come around here and fuck me!" While he was coming around the couch, Kelli lifted her hips and let the dick in her pussy fall out, and then slid to her knees on the floor and began cleaning it off with her mouth. Kelli just loved sucking cock. The other man dropped to his knees behind her and, grasping her hips, brought her pussy in line with his rampant cock. He slid in till his balls hit her clitoris, and Kelli gasped at the sudden intrusion, and started churning her buttocks in circles as he withdrew and slammed back in. Quickly, they set up a reciprocal motion, pushing, pulling, and rotating their hips. Kelli continued to suck on the cock in her mouth, as she was getting royally reamed doggie-style.

Phil was still pumping in and out of Billie's well-lubricated pussy when her eyes fluttered open and she came back from never-never land.

She was moaning continuously, saying, "Ooooohhhhh...ummmmmmm,... uhhhhhhh, gooood, ...so gooood!" 

She still had her head in the other man's lap, and he was still excitedly fondling her tits and plucking at her nipples. Billie's mouth was opening and closing like a fish out of water, and her tiny tongue ran back and forth around her full, swollen lips. 

"I've got to have some of that!" the man at her head said, and he lifted Billie's head off his lap, stood up, and pushed his sweat pants down to his ankles. Billie's eyes were closed when the head of his cock rubbed against her kiss-swollen lips. Without thinking, Billie parted her lips and kissed it, then sucked it into her small mouth. God! He'd died and gone to heaven and was getting a blowjob from an angel! Her mouth was so wet and warm and tight, with her tiny tongue circling his cock that he almost came immediately. He pulled out briefly, so he wouldn't go off so fast, then slid it past her lips again, and started pumping into her mouth, slowly, then faster and faster. Phil was doing the same to her pussy. She was in heaven!

Nothing in her life experience had ever prepared her for such bliss! This was fantastic! God! What had she been missing all these years trying to remain a virgin? Phil buried his cock to the hilt in her tiny vagina, and his body stiffened as the cum pumped out of his prick into the depths of her tiny body, which caused her to also stiffen, and a second orgasm began, which increased the activity of her sucking mouth, and the prick in her mouth started pumping also. They all three came simultaneously, and for a couple of minutes, they jerked, and moaned, and shuddered to a climax, then, drained, they separated and slumped, momentarily wasted, and sucking air. 

"God! That was so extreme!" Billie said.

She looked up into the faces of Pat and Steve, leaning over the couch, and turned a bright shade of pink from embarrassment. They'd seen everything! How could she face any of them again? 

She closed her eyes, with a dreamy sort of embarrassed smile on her lips, still blushing. She roused to a warm, rough-textured feeling on her groin and thighs. Steve had gotten a warm washrag and was washing the blood and vaginal secretions off her crotch from her busted cherry. "How sweet!" she thought, "and, ummm, it feels soooo good!" 

He followed with a towel and dried her off. Discarding the towel, Steve bent and gave her exposed clitoris a lick with his rough tongue. Well, at least it felt rough to her now super-sensitive clitoris and pussy lips, but at the same time, it was sooooo sexy! She never knew sex could feel so goooood. Lord! At all the years she'd wasted remaining a virgin!

Then Billie's eyes flew wide open. "Oh, my gosh!" she exclaimed, I'm not protected! I'll get pregnant!"

"There, there," Steve soothed, "Not to worry, we already thought of that, Phil was wearing a condom, and so will the rest of us..."

Billie relaxed, her mind whirling, "They had this all planned! ...and what does he mean, the rest of us? I'm pooped! Worn-out! How much more do they expect?"" She didn't have long to wonder, as Steve bent back to his licking of her vagina, teasing her clit with his tongue, and her mind quickly was taken over by the sensations running through her super-charged body.

Meanwhile, across the room, Kelli had finished cleaning up the one boy's dick with her mouth, and the other man buried in her hot cunt was driving her over the edge. She crowed with victory as her pussy contracted and held his prick so tight he couldn't withdraw, and pussy-juice started running down her thighs, as he also started pumping jism deep into her cervix.

Kelli had been on the pill for years, so wasn't worried about pregnancy. When she'd decided at age 16 she liked boys, she'd gone to the family doctor for her first prescription, with the approval of her liberal-minded parents, who didn't want an illegitimate grandbaby from their hot teenage daughter. She'd already been lucky with the first two or three boys she'd allowed to go "all the way," and wasn't already pregnant. She also thought that taking the pill is what helped grow her boobs to the size they are, and make them as sensitive as they stayed. She arched her back, threw back her head, and they both throbbed to a panting stop, and the man pulled his condom-sheathed prick from her dripping slit. 

Pat then grasped her hips, and pulled her to her feet, turned her around, and buried his long tongue in her mouth. She kissed him back eagerly, then, making a small jump, with the help of Pat's hands on her butt, wrapped her legs around his waist and pressed her tender titties against his bare chest. "Uuummmmmm," she breathed, "you taste good."

Pat reached down and grasped his hard cock, and rubbed it up and down her crack, before finding her hole, and pressing it upward into her vagina. Kelli threw her head back, and with a little jerk, impaled herself on his prick. "AAAAAhhhhhhhhhhh! She breathed, "that's goooooooddd." 

She immediately began twisting her pussy in circles and bobbing up and down on the hard cock. "Oh, yes, God, yes, that's soooo good." It was all Pat could do to remain standing, with a pink mini-tornado attached to his rod. Kelli was gasping, "Fuck me, fuck me, oh, yes, fuck me...," so he leaned her back over the couch and collapsed on her churning body. Kelli never quit moving, and Pat started stroking in and out of her hot box. The first two had only gotten her warmed up; despite the two orgasms, she wanted MORE! And Pat was so turned-on, he gave her all he had...over and over and over. They got into a harsh rhythm, and it sounded like someone getting their butt spanked, as the slap, slap, slap continued. This couldn't last long, it was too intense.




Billie



Billie was going out of her mind as the sensations on her just-deflowered vagina warmed her entire body, spreading from her groin in both directions, down to her toes, and up, causing a flush on her beautiful face, now contorted in passion. Her head was turning so fast, rolling back and forth, that her pony tail was history, and her hair was an auburn blizzard. She found herself holding her breath, dizzy from lack of oxygen, let out a long sigh, and gasped for air. 

She grabbed Steve's hair and pulled him back from her groin. Staring into his face, she whispered, "Fuck me, oh, please, fuck me, I need you, please...?" 

Never one to disappoint a lady, Steve did just that, easing his body above her, his chest mashing her pert tits, he fumbled to put his prick in her churning pussy. 

"Here, let me," Billie said, and grasping his cock in her tiny hand, she marveled, her fingers wouldn't reach all the way around it. Nevertheless, she pulled it in line with her open vagina, and Steve eased it in until her hand moved out of the way. 

He gazed down at her lust-glazed eyes and groaned, "Oh, my God, you're so tight!" "Mmmmmmm," Billie replied, "you're so big!" He started stroking in and out, gaining a little with each stroke, but it must have taken ten minutes before he hit bottom, and they were both gasping at the friction, despite the wetness from his pussy-eating and her natural secretions. 

"Uh," moaned Billie, and then "uh, uh, uh, uh, uh," with each stroke as Steve pulled out and shoved back in, in short strokes. "Uh, uh, uh, uh..." The strokes kept getting longer and longer, as her pussy-walls became accustomed to the huge invader, and Billie wrapped her legs around his hips and locked her slim ankles behind his driving buttocks. She squeezed his neck with her arms and his hips with her legs, then seemed to lock-up, as she started cumming...and cumming...and cumming like a string of firecrackers, until she turned loose and fell back on the couch, gasping again, because she'd been holding her breath through the multiple-orgasms. Steve continued stroking, and wriggling his butt from side-to-side, and, again, she found herself responding, thrusting back at him. "God," she thought, "what's happened to me? I can't get enough."

Pat and Kelli groaned out their orgasms, muscles tense and privates throbbing, and he fell back, seated on the couch, while Kelli turned around and, taking the condom off his deflating member, sucked and licked at it, slowly and lazily, as they both came down from the mountain they'd just climbed, breathing heavily. Kelli liked cum almost as much as she liked cock. They were both watching Billie thrust her pelvis up to receive Steve's tool, buttocks clenching, and tits bobbing. 

Kelli said, "We've unleashed another sex-machine, like me." And they both laughed. 

Pat said, "You say that like it's a bad thing." And they laughed again, as they kissed each other deeply. As they watched, Steve and Billie both tensed, he grunted, she squealed, and they had another orgasm.

4. She Loves It!

Both girls managed to get themselves back dressed and presentable, and, with good-bye kisses and hugs for all the boys, maneuvered across the now-dark campus to their dorm room, where they collapsed on their respective beds and slept, still dressed, until morning. Except for a lot of giggling, they hadn't discussed their adventure much.

They awoke to the sun streaming in the window, both with mild hang-overs and stale breath, and lay staring at each other.

"Did we really do that?" groaned Billie, "I can't believe...."

"Let's get cleaned up," said Kelli, "a nice hot shower and some breakfast is what we need."

They managed to peel off their rumpled clothes, get into a robe and make it to the community bathroom, where they showered, washed hair, and did all the girlie-primping to look presentable. Dressed in sweats, they made it to the cafeteria and several cups of coffee and a huge breakfast later, sat looking at one another.

"Did we really agree to date all the seniors?" Billie murmured, "My gosh, I'm so embarrassed..."

"Embarrassed, my ass," said Kelli, "you've never had an experience like that in your life." It was great!" Or, at least you thought so yesterday, didn't you? I saw how you reacted."

"Well, yes, I did," sighed Billie. "It was heavenly. But what do they think of us? What will it do to our reputations?"

"It was heavenly, wasn't it? I haven't cum so much in my whole life, sighed Kelli, "and I want MORE, a lot more."

Billie giggled then, "Yeah, I guess so do I. I've never felt like that. I want to do it again, but not right now. My little pussy is stiff and sore." "But I definitely want more. I can't believe I missed out on years of sex. God! What a waste!" I never realized my body could feel like that. My fingers never gave me that kind of pleasure."

The made their way back to the dorm room, where Kelli booted up the computer and continued working on her research paper. Billie also had some studying to do, so she picked up her book bag and walked across campus to the library.

She felt great! Somehow she felt freer than she had just 24 hours ago, and noticed even more the smiles and eyes that followed her twitching little bubble-butt, even inside the sweatsuit she was wearing. 

By the time she got to the library, her nipples were rubbing against the soft sweatshirt and fully erect and hard. Now she recognized the tingling in her groin that she'd dismissed all these years. She was HORNY. "Lord, I must be a real slut," she thought, "after all that, I still want more." Arriving at the library, she noticed all the lusty looks she was getting as she settled into one of the study kiosks, opened her books and started reading and taking notes.

She'd been studying for awhile when she heard a soft voice say, "Hello, Billie." 

She looked up into the eyes of a boy she recognized as one of the Senior Sig Eps Seniors. "Oh, Hi," she said. "I didn't see you standing there, I was so busy." Actually, she'd been half-concentrating on her studying, and half-musing over what had happened yesterday, and getting hornier remembering the big cocks invading her body. 

"Uh... I'd like to ask you to go out with me ... maybe tomorrow night?" the boy asked. 

"Sure," Billie answered," what time and where?" 

"My last lab is over at 5:00 tomorrow afternoon --" he replied, "how 'bout we catch a bite of dinner... say, around 6?" 

"That sounds really nice," said Billie," I'd love to." 

"Great, I'll pick you up at the dorm at 6, then," he said, and started to walk away.

Billie didn't know why she did it, but she asked, "Uh... do you have to go now?" 

"No, I'm through for the day," he said. 

Billie stood, gathered up her books, and reaching for his hand, pulled him to the back of the library where there were some soundproof rooms for band members to practice their instruments and listen to music. Finding an empty one, Billie pulled him inside. Once inside, she set down her books and, lifting up on tip-toe, kissed him full on the mouth. He was somewhat surprised, but responded eagerly, pushing his tongue into her tiny mouth, where she sucked on it happily. Her arms went around his neck, and his hands went to her waist, pulling her body tight against him.



Billie's Bully



Billy thought his life was just about perfect. As division manager for HI-Tech Computers, he had a good salary and a bright future having worked himself up to his current position in only 4 years out of college. He had also married his childhood sweetheart, well maybe not quite childhood; he did have a girlfriend in high school that he was in love with, but he had married his college sweetheart Amanda. 

Come to think about it, both girls had a lot in common. They both had long chocolate brown hair, parted in the centre framing their pixie faces and pouty lips that looked soo kissable. Both had small sexy bodies that made you just want to hold them. Even their personalities were similar, kind of shy and reserved at times but other times teasing and perky.

So how come the good times don't last? That all changed when he got an e-mail from Frank, his high school bully. Frank had just got his discharge from the Marines after two tours of duty. He was heading to California to start his new life but since he would be passing through St. Louis he wanted to stop in and see his old high school buddy. Amanda had read the e-mail before Billy got home from work so she was all excited to tell Billie the good news. "Isn't that wonderful that you will get a chance to visit with your best friend from high school. I remember you mentioning his name several times."

"He was not my best friend, he used to push me around. One time he threaten to beat me up if I didn't do his homework."

"That's just what boys do sometimes; besides that was long ago so I'm sure if he did that he has outgrown all that by now. I would just love to have a reunion with my best friend from school."

"Besides he was a jerk. He was on the football team and a lot of silly girls used to chase after him so he felt he could fuck any girl he wanted. He stole my girlfriend from me, not because he wanted her, but because I did."

"Oh that sounds interesting, tell me more."

"He was an ass and that's all I'm saying about it."

"You know all about me and I know very little about you, so here's my chance to find out."

"But I know if he comes he will hit on you the same way as he did with my girlfriend in school."

"Does he know you're married?"

"No, I never told him."

"So, he's not coming to hit on me, he's just coming to visit his old friend. You have no real friends here so I'm surprised that you don't jump at the chance."

Billie thought maybe Amanda was right. It had been 6 years and he could have changed. Besides even though he was an ass they did have some fun times and it would be kind of nice to see him again. "OK I'll tell him he can come and e-mail our address but if he annoys you by trying to get fresh with you, I'll tell you; I told you so."

Ten days later Frank showed up at the door carrying a large duffle bag. "Hi old buddy," he said shaking Billie's hand; "It's nice to see you again." Then spotting Amanda he said, "Oh my, you are a hottie. Billie never told me he had a beautiful sexy wife." He said that as he gave her a hug and a kiss on her cheek with one hand drifting down to her ass. He held her tight against him much longer than he should have. Amanda looked at Billie and he smiled as much to say, I told you so.

Amanda got him settled in the spare bedroom and she had to admit she was impressed with his physic, winning smile and deep penetrating eyes that could melt you inside. She had felt his cock pressing against her when he had held her close, but she thought it's probably better not to mention that to Billie. She prepared dinner while they sat in the living room having a couple beers. She could hear them talking and some laughter so she was glad for Billie's sake that Frank had come.

At dinner while they all enjoyed a couple glasses of wine Frank talked mainly to Amanda, not Billie. He had her giggling a few times over what he was saying to her. At one point he asked her how a shrimp guy like Billie ever got her to marry him. He told her if she wanted to get married all she had to do is let men know and there would be a long lineup and he would be one of the guys in the front. Amanda liked that and she sometimes blushed at the crude words he used, but mostly she hung onto every word he said.

After dinner they sat in the living room and Frank told Amanda stories about Afghanistan. He told about one mission they were on and encountered a Taliban ambush. Two marines were killed and one was wounded. The sergeant told them to withdraw but he could not leave a wounded marine so he crawled out there, not knowing if he would get shot also, and brought the marine to safety. "Oh Frank, you're soo brave," Amanda said patting his leg as he was the one sitting beside her on the sofa. She didn't realize that her knee was touching his leg.

Later he was telling her on the front line you never knew if you would be alive or dead the next day so when they were rotated back to a safe place for some R&R they wanted to have a good sleep, some good food, and sex. "There were lots of prostitutes who would spend the night with you for $5. They were young but not young and beautiful like you. Had you been there we would have gladly paid you 500 dollars."

Billie thought she should have been mad because he had as much as called her a prostitute but she wasn't mad. She blushed a little but she was pleased with what he said. "You guys are terrible to treat women that way."

"No, they liked it and getting paid five dollars was the same amount they would get for working in the fields for a week." Billie thought Frank was supposed to be visiting him, but he spent all his time talking to Amanda.

That night in bed Billie wanted to make love to his wife but she pushed him away. "We can't do that; these walls are paper thin and he could hear everything we do. He probably hasn't had sex in a while so it's not fair to him." She was thinking of his cock pressed against her when he hugged her. "Frank is a nice guy and just as I thought, he didn't bully you at all, did he?" Billie had to admit he didn't. "I'm feeling kind of horny so I want you to go down on me. You're so good with your tongue that I know you can get me off quickly and we can do that quietly." Billie did it but it brought back unpleasant memories of his high school days and his girlfriend Courtney. She wasn't interested in sex before marriage. She had been his girlfriend for about 4 months before she allowed him to suck her pussy and she would jerk him off. She had met Frank at a celebration party for winning the regional championship. Soon after that they were sleeping together and she broke it off with Billie. Frank rubbed it in by saying she was a hot fuck and did Billie enjoy fucking her. Courtney had told him she had never had sex with Billie.

The next morning Amanda got up at the same time Billie did and made his breakfast before he left for work. She was wearing her shorty nightie that showed more than it hid and a short bathrobe that didn't cover a whole lot more. "You should not be wearing something so revealing. It'll give Frank the wrong idea."

"I wear this every morning and you always said you like it, so what's the matter now?

"Because Frank might get the wrong idea. It's like you're teasing or flirting with him; that's not the way a wife should dress in front of a stranger."

"Why Billie I think your jealous."

Frank came downstairs putting an end to their discussion. He was wearing boxer type shorts and nothing else. Billie thought he doesn't even have the decency to cover himself with a bathrobe. "What a beautiful site to see in the morning," Frank said leaning over and giving Amanda a kiss on the cheek. "Now can you even leave such a gorgeous creature as this and go to work. She is sex and beauty all in one package."

Amanda knew he was laying it on way to thick, so how come she still liked it. "If I'm so wonderful, you can drive me to the grocery store this morning."

"Your wish is my command," Frank said. Oh come on, how corny can you get Billie thought. Surly his wife is not swallowing a line like that. However he was glad that this was Friday, his last day of work. After this he was going to make sure Amanda and Frank were not left alone. Frank planned on leaving Monday and Billie was going to make sure he did.

After Billie left for work, Frank said to Amanda, I'll drive you to the grocery store but it's going to cost you."

"And how much will that be?" she said with a slight grin.

"It will cost you 3 kisses."

"That seems like a pretty high price for just a ride to the grocery store. How about just one kiss?"

"OK, OK I'll settle for 2 kisses but that's my final offer. Now come here and pay up."

"You drive a hard bargain," but she got up and went to him and kissed him. He pulled her tight against him and she could feel his cock pressing against her much more than yesterday because he's in boxer shorts and she's wearing just a silk nightie and a cotton robe. He tried to force his tongue into her mouth but she kept her lips closed. For the second kiss he had somehow got her robe undone and when he grabbed her ass drawing her tight against him she could feel his bare cock pushing against her pussy with only her nightie in the way. That sent tingles through her body. This time she opened her mouth to him.

"I think you have been paid enough. It's time we both got dressed and got ready for the grocery store." He did as she asked and let her go, so how come she felt a little disappointed. They drove to the grocery store by a roundabout route so Amanda could show him some of the local sights. They passed a lookout point overlooking the valley. "This is a local make out place."

"Oh good let's stop here."

"You sleezeball, I knew it was a mistake to mention that as soon as I said it. Just keep driving." They arrived at the grocery store and Amanda found she was having fun doing the shopping. Frank was always trying to put stuff in her cart she didn't want and she was making him put it back on the shelf, or he would say something like, this looks good, how about buying this; and when she would ask him what the price was and he didn't know, she made him put that back too. It was fun telling him what to do and him doing it. At one point he said he liked pork chops. "You can't keep that physic of yours if you continue to eat stuff like that. Veal or chicken is much better for you." Then she wondered why she would even mention his physic or care what he ate.

By the time they finished shopping it was lunch time and Frank said he would take her to lunch to make up for his nonsense in the grocery store. She kind of liked his nonsense but she was not about to tell him that. He took her to a sports bar and they had hamburgers and fries and draft beer. When Billie took her to lunch, which wasn't often it was to a restaurant not even licensed. Frank was making her feel like a college student again having a beer and a burger in a sports bar. On the way home Frank asked her again if they could stop at that lookout point and she said no you sleaze, but she still kind of liked that he asked. When they got home the two of them watched a couple of Amanda's favorite TV shows, with Frank teasing her about what a waste of time that was. "There are much better things you could be doing."

"And I know exactly what you think that is," she said giving him a playful punch. "But forget it because it's not going to happen." Then it was time to shower and get ready for dinner because Frank had told Billie this morning that he was taking them out to dinner to say thanks for their hospitality. Frank took his shower first and this time he came out wearing Billie's bathrobe. Amanda had her shower next and she came out of the bathroom wearing the same robe she wore that morning and headed toward their bedroom. She was at the door when Frank came out of the spare bedroom across the hall. He pushed her through the open bedroom door and onto her back on the bed; her robe coming open as he pushed. He got on top of her sucking her breasts and rubbing her pussy.

"Frank stop it," she said but other than keeping her legs close together to deny him access, she did little to stop him. His lips on her breasts and fingers in her pussy was making her wet. When he moved up to kiss her and his cock brushed her pussy, she gave up all pretense of resistance and let her legs open. He wasted no time and thrust into her deep. He stayed motionless deep in her pussy until he felt her pussy start to pulse on his cock. Now he started to fuck her; long deep strokes gradually getting faster as he felt her excitement build. When he felt her cresting he went deep and held still feeling her pussy tighten on him as she had her orgasm. That made him cum in her at almost the same time. He did not pull out but lay on top of her keeping some of his weight supported by his arms as they laid still joined together in post orgasmic bliss. After a short while he could feel her hips start to gently buck against him. That horny bitch, he thought, she wants it again. She might be ready to go again but he wasn't, so he gently pulled out and lay beside her, holding her in his arms. Suddenly she sat up in bed saying, "Frank get up and get dressed; Billie could be home any minute."

"No he won't; he told me this morning he would not be home until six tonight and asked me to make the dinner reservations for 6:30. He gently lay her back down and pulled a blanket over them. "Just relax and let me hold you tight." She did relax and soon fell asleep in contentment. He had to wake her at a quarter to six. He was tempted to let her sleep and let Billie find them both nude in his bed. He could just picture Billie angry and spluttering, yet getting a hard on gazing on his wife's nude body. He did not really like Billie, never did, and what better way to humiliate him than to fuck his wife in his bed and let him catch them.

The dinner Frank took them to was at The Veterans Association Club. This was a private, members only club for members and their invited guests. During the dinner they announced that they were having a fund raising auction the following evening to raise money to help veterans readjust to civilian life. They said they had some innovating ways to do that but since the vast majority of members were male, they were looking for females from the invited guests to add beauty and charm by volunteering to be hostesses at the auction. Frank said he was going to attend and this would be a chance for Amanda to do her patriotic duty and help wounded veterans by volunteering to be one of the hostesses. Amanda agreed, but Billie was dead set against it. He said they would talk about it later at home.

After the dinner was over they all went to an adjoining room for dancing and drinks. Frank said, "I know Billie didn't know how to dance in college, has he learned anything since?"

"No," Amanda said, "he's still that way. He never does anything I like to do."

"That's not fair Amanda, you know I..."

Frank cut him off. I like to dance also Amanda, so suppose we dance and Billie can pay for our drinks and guard our table." So that's how the rest of the evening went. They would come back laughing and talking and join Billie at the table to drink the cocktails he bought for them. At one point Billie said, "This is no fun for me so let's go home Amanda. Frank has his own car so he can come anytime he wants to."

"But I'm having fun dancing. Why don't you go home and I'll come home with Frank later."

"No, you're my wife and you're coming with me."

"He is such a party pooper," Amanda said to Frank.

At home they discussed the auction tomorrow. Billie said, "I don't like it. Why would they need outsiders for their fundraising? I saw a couple women there, so let them use their own women if they want."

"Can't do that because their women will be taking part in the bidding too, "Frank said," so they can't be used as entertainment, I mean as hostess, and take part in the auction also."

"Billie I want to do this," Amanda said. "I want to do what I can to make wounded soldiers feel better." Billie knew he wasn't going to win this so he reluctantly said OK.

The next day Billie made sure he was always with Amanda and if Frank wanted to say anything to her, it was with Billie standing right there. That evening arriving at the club, one or the women veterans said to the 3 women volunteers, You 3 are so beautiful that it would make our wounded soldiers feel so much better if you would take off your clothes and wear one of these short slips. After years in Afghanistan it would mean so much to them if they could see 3 beautiful women like you dressed in a sexy outfit." After looking at each other and a few blushes they agreed. They entered the main room and were escorted to the bar were vodka and orange juice drinks were waiting for them. That was one of Amanda's favorites but this one had kind of a bitter taste to it. The second cocktail tasted a little better and the third tasted good but it was making her feel funny. In fact after 3 of these drinks she was feeling relaxed and a little horny also.

"OK, to get the party started we are going to have a lezzie show. One of our volunteers, Sandra is going to pleasure Sgt. Ruth Anders. If you want to stay and watch it will cost you 25 dollars; if not you can go into the next room and watch a porno movie for free." Very few left the room. "The other 2 hostesses will serve you drinks if you want and for an extra 25 dollars you can have one of them sit with you and jerk you off, but no blowjobs that will come later. Amanda thought she should be angry but she wasn't; more like relaxed and horny. After Sgt. Ruth had an orgasm on Sandra's face, the few that left the room returned to the main room.

The host then said, "OK, we are going to start the auction. Who wants their cock sucked?" To a chorus of yaah's, he said, "Here's how it's going to work. I'll start the bidding at one hundred; you have to increase the bidding by at least twenty dollars when you bid. Whoever bids the highest gets his choice of who he wants to suck his cock, then the second and so on. We have 3 private rooms were you can take your purchase and enjoy her. Her job is to please you any way you want with her mouth, not her pussy. You have twenty minutes to enjoy your purchase and then you must return to the main room.

Amanda wondered if she had been drugged because she was willing to go along with whatever they wanted her to do. After about a half hour they were all back. The announcer said, "And now for the highlight of the evening we have the "fuck a slut auction." I am going to start the bidding at $200 under the same rules as before. Now I'm going to auction them off twice, but if you don't want sloppy seconds I suggest you bid high the first time."

Even Frank was surprised how docile the 3 of them were. The auctioneer made them dance while the bidding was going on. He wasn't going to bid but he was going to fuck her on the way home. The top bidders were told, "OK, the 3 rooms are ready for you. There is a magnum of champagne in each room and Viagra pills if any of you need them. As you can see the girls are very submissive and obedient so you can do pretty much whatever you want. Just remember you have to give them 5 minutes to clean up before the hour is up so that they are ready for the second auction. The 2nd auction brought in even more money than the first. Frank guessed the men realized that this was their last chance to fuck a beautiful women who would not say no to them.

After the second round the women were allowed to get dressed and everyone assembled in the main room. The MC said the auction had been a wonderful success and he thanked the 3 hostesses for doing a great job.

Frank had Amanda in the car headed toward home when he said, "I am so horny after watching all of that. We'll stop in a motel on the way home so that I can get my rocks off too in your juicy pussy."




Billie's Bully



"No you're not. I'm so mad at you, you didn't even bid for me once. I thought you would have been the highest bidder if not the first time then definitely the second."

"Why should I bid when I can get you for nothing?"

"Well I've got news for you buster, the only sex you're getting tonight will be from your own hand."

"I didn't mean it that way. I thought we had something special going and I didn't want to cheapen it by bidding for you along with a bunch of horny guys. I didn't know all about the stuff that went on tonight; (in reality he had been very well briefed); and I wanted to make up for that by making love to you; not just using you for sex." His smooth talk and what appeared to be sincerity had often worked in the past were he was able to change a girls mind and allowed him to fuck her.

It kind of worked with Amanda too. When she spoke again the anger was gone from her voice. "It's getting late, just take me home."

Frank wondered what Amanda would say when she got home. He wasn't worried about Billie; he could always handle him if he started getting out of line by roughing him up a little like he used to do in college, so he was just curious. "What took you so long? It's almost midnight," Billie said.

"There were so many horny men and only 3 of us women to take care of them."

"What, what are you talking about," he spluttered.

"Billie you get excited so easily, I just love teasing you."

"Well I'm horny too so let's go to bed and you can take care of me."

"It's been a long night so I'm going to bed alright but it's to sleep. I'll tell you what I will do though. Tomorrow is Father's Day and Frank's last day with us so I'm going to bring both of you breakfast in bed. Now Billie, I know you're not a father yet, but you hope to be, and Frank told me he has a daughter from one ex-girlfriend and a son by another.

In the morning Amanda brought Billie his breakfast to him on a tray. "You're not going into Frank's bedroom wearing just a nightgown."

"Why, are you afraid he's going to attack me? You are soo paranoid."

"Just put on a housecoat and stop annoying me."

Shortly after that she brought Frank his breakfast still just wearing that shorty nightie. As she walked in carrying a tray he said, "What a wonderful sexy sight to see first thing in the morning."

"I bet you say that to all the girls. Just eat your breakfast before it gets cold."

"Put down that tray and get under the blanket with me before you get cold." She hesitated some but she did put down the tray and when he pulled her into bed she did resist a little. Getting her on the bed he threw the blanket over both of them. She could see that he was nude under the covers and already had a hard on. He rolled over on top of her and started kissing her. Her nightie had slid up a bit when he got her in bed so their genitals were stimulating each other.

"Frank, stop it; Billie is right across the hall and if he hears something he might come in."

"I don't care if he does, I'm going to make love to you."

Her voice might have said stop, but her body was saying go, as she squirmed against him. He moved lower to suck and feel her breasts, and almost unconsciously she wrapped her arms around his neck to hold him in place. She could feel his cock throbbing against her upper thigh and she tried to wiggle down to get him in a better position. It kind of worked because his cock was now rubbing against her pussy but not in it. If he didn't start fucking her soon she was going to bite him in frustration. Finally he penetrated her and she started bucking up against him before he even started his in and out movements. That felt soo good that on each thrust she made an Ohh, ohh sound.

"Now who's making too much noise," he said. She didn't care if Billie walked in or not; what she cared about was her building orgasm and if he didn't satisfy her soon she was going to bite him anyway. She was close when his spurting cum sent her over the top. 

They lay together for a few moments before Amanda got up out of bed. "That was not the kind of breakfast I intended to give you," she said with a grin. "All Billie got was 2 hardboiled eggs."

"But I got what I wanted. Maybe you should give Billy my breakfast too."

"You're terrible," she said with a giggle.

Billie and Amanda waited down stairs while Frank packed up his belongings and got ready to leave. "I had a wonderful time visiting the two of you. As soon as I get settled I want to invite the two of you out to my place; you will have a lot of fun. Los Angles has Disneyland, Knox Berry Farm, and of course Hollywood. To himself he said, I'm sure I'll have lots of fun, not so sure about Billie.

Amanda said, "That's a wonderful idea; I'm already looking forward to it."

Billie shook Frank's hand and said goodbye but to himself he said, I never want to see you again and if you think you're going to see my wife again, you're daydreaming.

Story by Omega



Billie's Journey



Billie Jenkins started a journey; it was going to be short, and full of doubt and discovery. She went to the wrong store to demonstrate, and so was the only one outside the The PM Book and News Store.

She held her sign, and saw a couple men come out and look at her, and was careful to stay on the sidewalk, as legal protesters were supposed to do. Several of the men made crude suggestions to her, and several of them could not help mentioning the fact that she looked like she had 'really big fun bags' for such a cold bitch. She stoically ignored them, and sipped her water, wondering when her relief was going to get there.

Finally, she decided to go in the store to use the bathroom.

She was a rather mousy looking woman, with her brown hair pulled back into a rather tight knot, and squared off glasses. She was wearing a bulky coat, and had on a loose sweater under it, and a conservative knee length skirt with flat soled black shoes. She wore little makeup, but she had smooth skin, and her lips were naturally plump and soft. Her eyes had just a hint of an almond shape to them from a Japanese great grandmother.

The clerk stared at her like he could not believe she would ask such a thing after she had been protesting all morning when one of the men who had been outside said, "You can use the bathroom in my office, Lady, it might be safer. I'm Charley Moro by the way."

"Umm, thank you, I'm Billie Jenkins," she said. She felt this was a modest outfit, but the man's eyes were nonetheless on her bosom. Despite the frumpy clothes, her large, well formed breasts, the size of coconuts, could be covered completely but not concealed. She found herself wishing she had worn the sports bra, which hugged her massive breasts, squashing them slightly, instead of the one she had worn.

"Right this way then, Mrs. Jenkins," Charlie said, and led her through to the back of the store. He ushered her into a surprisingly large office, and pointed to a door on the back wall. "Right through there, honey," he said, touching her hip lightly.

There was a large poster next to, and on the door, of a young blond woman on her knees, her breasts naked, with what looked like a huge cock rammed in her gasping mouth.

Billie could not stop staring at the poster, and then hurried into the bathroom. She pulled her skirt up, and did her business, blushing at the sexy panties she was wearing; they matched her bra, white frilly things that showed off her curvy hips to a tee. She liked to dress for her husband this way, who would be the only one to ever see these.

Not that he showed that much interest when he did see them; she usually ended up feeling fat though there was scarcely a spare ounce on her lush frame.

She stepped out to see another man in the office; he was also tall and built like a bull, with long blond hair pulled back in a ponytail. "Hi there, Mrs. Jenkins, my partner was just telling me about you," he said, taking her hand in his. "My name is Johnny Talbot."

"Well, hello Mr. Talbot; I'm kind of embarrassed to be umm, you know, protesting against you," Billie trailed off. She was married to a deacon at her church; they had been married eight years, and she had just noticed what they were looking at on the computer screen. 

It was a photo of her; all you could see was that she was looking at the poster that was on the door, a strange look on her face, her pretty mouth sagging open in a slight oval shape. "You're pretty sexy, you know, why don't you like our little shop? It might be liberating. You look like you've never seen a dick that big before."

"Umm, how did you get that picture?" she asked, her gut roiling. She could feel her legs trembling. They must have a camera somewhere in the room, she thought to herself. Video never occurred to her.

"Come on; answer my question -- why don't you like our little store? Here, look at this video, maybe it'll change your mind." Talbot said, and he pressed a small button. Suddenly, there was a vivid picture on the TV across the room. It showed a busty young blond with short hair, dressed in a tight halter top and a tiny skirt.

Even as she watched, a man came up and cupped the young woman's big, firm breasts.

"Oh, my god, I can't believe you want me to watch such filth! How could any woman actually do that?"

"It turns some women on," Johnny said, stepping a bit closer to the woman. 

"Here, let me help you with your coat."

"I'm not going to watch this," Billie said, but she found herself loosening the coat, and stealing a glance at her picture, framed perfectly in front of the porn poster on the computer screen on Moro's desk. It was obvious that she was staring directly at the giant cock rammed into the girl's mouth, and when she looked back up at the moans coming from the TV the man had pulled the young woman's top up, and was now squeezing the blonds' big, firm tits.

Talbot smiled at her, his brown eyes gleaming, and Billie could not help but notice that his eyes went to the front of her sweater. They must have a camera somewhere in the room, Billie thought again, and a soft shiver raced through her as she felt Talbot peeling the coat off of her arms.

"Tell you what, Mrs. Jenkins, you watch this scene all the way through, and we will give you the picture."

"Wh . . . what?!?" Billie gasped as the man threw the coat on the end of the couch.

"And she's gotta unfasten a couple a buttons on that sweater, loosen up a little, or I might get mean and send this picture around."

"Wh . . what? No, you - You can't do that!" she said, and found herself staring at the man. He was now French kissing the woman, their lips soft, their tongues intermingling. His hands still worked at her big breasts, lifting and squeezing the heaving globes.

"I bet your tits are that big," Charlie Moro said softly, moving up beside her. "Do we have a deal, Mrs. Jenkins?" he asked, his mouth close enough to her ear to make her shiver. 

She tried to speak, but in the end just ended up nodding. There was no way all the people she knew, and her husband, would understand. She would stand here, and watch this disgusting display of carnality, and then they would delete the picture and she could go. "And you'll delete all copies of the picture?" she asked, telling herself that she was a smart girl and could get out of this situation.

"Yes, of course we will." Talbot said, reaching out and rubbing her arm lightly. A shiver raced through the housewife, and she licked her lips nervously. Her belly was tumbling, and her body had a strange hollow feeling that was centering in her belly, her breasts and her woman hood, making her warm and, she realized with blushing shame, making her large strawberry sized nipples stiffen.

She swallowed, and gasped when she looked back at the screen. The man was licking and biting at the woman's breasts now. The woman on the screen had smaller nipples, but they were quite hard as the man licked and bit at them.

The woman had loosened the man's pants, though, and it was the size of the man's cock that had made her gasp. The thing looked huge compared to her husbands, the only one she had ever seen.

"Look, it looks likes she's enjoying having her big tits squeezed and sucked on," Mayo said, and then he reached up and unfastened the top button of Billie's bulky sweater.

She slapped at his hand, and asked him what he thought he was doing, but did not try to fasten the button back.

"Hey, you agreed to let us loosen a few buttons," Talbot said. "That guy has a pretty big dick doesn't he?" Talbot said, and watched with a smile as the young woman shook her head.

"No, I don't really think so," Mrs. Jenkins said. "I think its fake, no one has a real one that size," Billie said, once again watching the people French kiss on the screen. "What kind of woman would do that?" she wondered, and tried to ignore Mayo unfastening another button. Her upper chest was now visible, and Billie was mortified to see that her stiff nipples were now easily visible even through the thick sweater.

The two men noticed this as well. "It looks like its turnin' you on, Mrs. Jenkins, to be honest. Your fucking nipples look great!" and he slipped another button open, exposing the first hint of cleavage. "And anyway, Talbot's dick is that big -- why don't you show her, Talbot?"

"Do you want that? Do you wanna see how big my dick is?" Talbot asked, unfastening his belt. Billie looked at his hands out of slitted eyes, and noticed Mayo unfastening yet one more button. Her cleavage was now on display, but for some reason it did not seem like that big a deal as she watched Talbot toying with his pants button. She could easily see a large bulge in his pants, and was unconsciously biting her plump lower lip.

"Well? You want to see it, Mrs. Jenkins?" he said again, and still Billie did not say anything. She finally looked away as he snapped the button open, and gasped again. The blond was now on her knees, and even as Billie watched she folded her shiny red lips around the young man's fat member and began bobbing her head up and down the giant penis.

"I bet you got a real sexy bra on, Mrs. Jenkins -- am I wrong?" Mayo asked, rubbing her arm and then reaching out and rubbing her taut belly with his fingertips through the thick sweater.

"That's -- that's really none of your business," Billie breathed softly, and found herself looking down at Talbots fat cock, now sticking straight out.

"You don't mind if I take a quick look, though, right?"

"Oh, OK - but he -- he has to go somewhere where I can't see him," she said, looking again at Talbot's thick, angry cock. A shiver shook the young woman, and she swallowed as Talbot moved around behind her. "Here, I have an idea, Mrs. Jenkins -- it'll let you feel how big my cock is without looking at it or touching it," he said, and his hands glided to her hips as he slipped around behind her. Billie's breath felt to hot in her throat, and she was biting her plump lower lip again as Moro unfastened yet another button, exposing even more of her bulging, perfect titties.

"I . . . I think I just need to leave, ohnn, noo, ohn my god, what are you doing?" she gasped, glancing back over her shoulder as she felt Talbot lower himself. Then he was pressing forward, at the same time rising up so that his angry naked cock was trapped against her curvy ass. 

He shifted slightly, and Billie gasped and blushed when she felt the fat log settle in between her shuddering soft ass cheeks. "Don't worry, Mrs. Jenkins," Talbot said, his breath hot on her neck. "Look at that chick suck that big fucking cock -- I bet you could get that much in your pretty little mouth, couldn't you?" he said.

"You've -- you've no right to talk to me that way," Billie gasped, trying to figure out how things had gotten this way so fast. She stared at the screen; the young man was now holding onto the blond's thick hair and moving his hips, driving his fat cock into the young woman's defenseless mouth. Still, the girl seemed to be enjoying it, she was moaning in between making strangely animal gagging sounds.

She tried not to think about the fact that Moro's skilled fingers had undone another couple of buttons, and that her bra was now clearly visible, pushing her soft, firm tits into even greater prominence and accentuating her bursting cleavage.

"That's a great bra," Moro said, flicking another button open. "It really shows off your big fuckin tits."

"Ohn, no, god, please, I think that's far enough, Mr. Moro," she said. She wanted to push his hands away, but for some reason she was afraid of what would happen if she let go of Talbot's think wrists. His big hands kept squeezing her ample hips, and she realized that he was guiding her, rubbing her plump ass against his huge hardon, and she was barely resisting or even protesting any more.

"Ohnn, no, you shouldn't unfasten that anymore, Mr. Moro!" she protested again, but he just smiled and slipped his fingers to the next button -- there were only two left on the sweater.

"Don't worry, dear, I just can't get a good look at it with this sweater on, I think we had better take it all the way off."

"Ohn, no, you didn't say that," Billie said, trying desperately to get her head straight.

"OK, we won't take it off then, we'll just undo all the buttons."

"Um, OK, but, uhnnnn, um, Mr. Talbot has to stop -- umm, ohnnn, has to stop doing that and get out from behind me," Billie said, desperate to bargain her way out of this situation.

"Sure, of course," Talbot said against her throat, but for another long moment he stood grinding his obscenely large cock into her plump, curvy, silky soft ass. Billie's breath rasped in her throat, and she realized with shame that her pussy was getting very moist and very warm, and that her heaving breasts were swollen even more than normal. Her nipples poked out, right at the edge of the pretty bra, and Billie looked on helplessly as Moro slowly unfastened another button. 

Then Talbot was stepping out from behind her, one hand rubbing her arched back, his other hand sliding down her slim arm; for some reason it seemed perfectly normal for his hand to grasp hers and guide her small, trembling sweaty hand to his stiff shaft. He pushed her palm against his rod, and Billie looked at the screen, and let out a small gasp when she saw another man walk into the screen, kneel down next to the woman and began rubbing and caressing her lush body.

One hand squeezed, rubbed and slapped her big breasts, and the other slipped between her legs; there was a close-up of the woman's shaved pussy, and then the man was inserting two fingers into the girls obviously wet snatch.

There were strangled moans and gasps from the woman, and Billie was vaguely aware of Talbot forcing her slim fingers around his fat shaft. The camera zoomed back out till she was looking at all three again.

She tugged at her hand, but did not say anything as Talbot began forcing it up and down his fat cock. Billie tried to stop her trembling, and realized that she was starting to sweat as well. The man's cock felt huge in her small hand, and was as hard as a piece of wood.

Billie clenched her jaws and tried to silently and casually tug her hand away, but it was useless. She could not believe how stiff and fat Talbot's stiff rod felt in her sweaty little hand as he forced her fist up and down his cock.

Moro slipped the last button open of her bulky sweater open, and then spread the halves of her sweater apart. Billie continued to ignore what the men were doing, and watched the screen out of wide eyes as the two men took turns grabing the woman's hair and fucking their cocks in and out of her gasping, slurping mouth.

Billie was all to aware of the fact that the two men were not watching the TV at all, but were instead staring at her. She was as well aware of the sight of her breasts -- they were at least DD's, and shuddered softly as she trembled. The little bra pushed them up and out obscenely, and Billie knew she was blushing. Her bellie was slightly rounded, and her hips just began flaring out where her skirt convered them. Morro reached out and drew his fingers along her belly in a soft, slow circular motion. 

"Umm, I . . ." she gasped softly, and was aware that Talbot was now rubbing her arm at her elbow, that he was no longer holding her hand to his cock, but for some reason she could not stop sliding her fist up and down his fat shaft.

"I don't know how this happened," she said, her voice soft and trembling. She somehow stopped moving her hand, but she still could not manage to let go of his cock -- she gripping the bulbous head in her hand, and moaned softly when she felt a wetness oozing into her palm and fingers. She unconsciously squeezed the bulbous head and shuddered softly, barely able to catch her breath. In a daze, she felt Moro take her left hand and guide it to his crotch till he was pressing her limp hand against the huge bulge in his pants -- his stiff dick felt every bit as big as Talbots.

"Nooo, that's not a good idea," Billie said softly, but did not try to pull her hand away at all. 

"That bra is really pretty -- it really shows off your big fuckin tits, Mrs. Jenkins," Talbot said. "I bet it's really soft."

"Umm, it's silk, but I really do wish you wouldn't talk that way to me," Billie said. Her hand was getting quite slick with his precum, and she consciously slid it back to the base of his straining meat. She could barely fit her fingers around the base.

"So what are you, a D cup?" Moro asked from the other side of her, and raised his hand so casually she did not even know what he going to do until he cupped her heavy breast lightly in his palm.

Billie swallowed, and licked her lips. Her left hand stayed pressed against Moro's crotch as he lifted her breast just slightly. "It does feel really good -- you should feel how soft that is, Talbot. You don't mind, do you, Mrs. Jenkins?" Moro grinned down at her evilly, but Billie was once again watching the screen. The two men on the TV now had the girl bent over the desk, and they were both fucking her, one from each end.

"Um, its . . . its . . . they are DD's," she gasped finally. Talbot grinned as well, and reached up to cup her other breast.

Billie breathed heavily though her mouth. She knew she should push the men's hands away from her swollen, throbbing breasts but for some reason her hands seemed frozen on the men's stiff cocks. Talbot lifted her breast first, and then began rubbing it with increasing force. For some reason Billie found herself clenching her pretty jaws, but she did not even object as he began rolling her heaving breast around on her chest.

"I bet her panties are just as pretty and soft," Moro said, also now squeezing her breast. He reached inside her skimpy bra cup and pulled her red nipple out, began tugging it and twisting on it.

"Ohnn, nooo, no, Jesus, please, stop this, please," Billie groaned as she felt Moro's fingers at the back of her skirt, flipping the little catch and then drawing the zipper down, and all the while the men played with her shuddering titmounds, and her hands pressed and rubbed against the men's cocks.

"Don't you like the feel of that stiff fuckin cock in your little hand, Mrs. Jenkins -- I think you can't stop," he said, and Billie shook her head, all to aware that Moro had loosened her skirt enough to where it slid down her shapely legs and puddled around her feet.

"Please, don't let him . . . don't let him touch me down there," she said, once again unconsciously squeezing the head of his cock, ignoring the fact that he had pried her entire firm tit mound out of her bra cup and was squeezing it strongly, his big, thick fingers sinking into the pliant globe. It made her head spin, and she heard him say something about how he would protect her. He told Moro to back off, and then was pushing Billie Jenkins to her shapely little knees.

"What . . . what do you expect me to do?" she asked, her right hand still gripping the base of his thick cock, her left hand bracing herself against his thigh.

"I just wanna see how much of my cock you can get in your mouth, Mrs. Jenkins -- I think you do to, don't you?" 

"No, of course not," Billie said as Moro slipped down beside her. He reached up and cupped one of her breasts, still hanging out of the bra, and said in a soft voice, "Well, if you don't wan to let him stick his cock in your mouth you're going to have to let me feel how soft your panties are, Mrs. Jenkins," he said -- "That is, if you want that picture back," and then pushed his tongue into her ear and squeezed her heaving breast strongly, leaving finger marks in it.

"OK, but just for a minute and then I get to leave with the pictures!" Billie gasped. She was staying straight, holding herself away from Talbot's monster cock, but she could not bring herself to let go of the thing. She shut her eyes as Moro's left hand slipped from her proud, heaving breast down her curved belly and finally slipped onto the thin silky patch of her panties, cradling her mound deliciously.