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From Barbara to Barbie

By: bobfr



Barbara's tears fell on the white pillow case.  After sobbing for several minutes, she reflected on what she had heard.  She couldn't have imagined that comments regarding a photograph that had been taken twenty-years ago--nearly half a lifetime ago--could hurt so much.   The photograph of Gordon and her displayed in the antique, sterling silver frame that sat on the grand piano in the study, was her favorite.  It had been snapped at the beach.  They were hugging each other and smiling.  She wore a modest one-piece bathing suit but it did little to hide her perfect figure.  They were about as attractive as a couple could be.  It was what had been said, a few minutes earlier, about that picture that caused her to run to her room and bury her head in her pillow.  

"Who's the fox in the photo with your dad?"  Asked Troy, Megan's new boyfriend.  Troy was a junior and Megan was a sophomore at state college.  Barbara thought they may be getting serious.  She remembered that she was also a sophomore, but Gordon had been a senior, when she met his family and he met hers for the first time.  She never became a junior because they were married when Gordon graduated, then she worked full-time to put him through law school. 

Neither Megan nor Troy knew that Barbara was standing just around the corner from the study, or they would never have said what they did.  They weren't being cruel, just candid.  Barbara hadn't intended to eavesdrop on their conversation but she clearly heard every word.

"That's my mom in the photo with my dad," answered Megan.

"You must be kidding!  Well, tell me . . . what happened to her?  Did she get sick or something?"

"No," Megan sighed, then, with a touch of embarrassment, she explained. "She just got old."

"Gee Meg, your dad looks better today than he did in the picture but . . . your mom . . . well she must have gained a lot of weight and the grey hair sure doesn't help," he said candidly and sympathetically. 

"Yeah," Megan agreed.   "She doesn't take care of herself like she used to when I was a little girl.  She never goes to the beauty parlor anymore," she said. We've sort of given up . . . neither of us push her anymore, maybe we should," said Megan.

"How old are your folks?"  Asked Troy.

"My dad's forty-five, mom's forty-three."

"Forty-three!  I can't believe it, my mom's older than that . . . you've seen her, she's still hot."

Megan sighed again and turned away from Troy.  She wished this unpleasant conversation would end.  "She really is forty-three, Troy, like I told you.  I know, I know she looks much older than that.  I guess some people just age faster than others."  

"I'll say.  She looks more like sixty.  Too bad."

Barbara couldn't bear to just stand there and listen to one more word.  She turned and ran to the master bedroom that she had shared with Gordon since they moved into the house fifteen years ago.  She remembered that when they moved into the house she still looked very much as she did in the picture on the piano.  She was trim, well groomed, some called her beautiful.  Not just Gordon, he had to say that she was beautiful because he was her husband, but she knew that others frequently referred to her as beautiful.  Then, she was tall, elegant and moved gracefully.  Back then, long brown, glistening hair crowned her head and framed her gorgeous face.  Her big eyes were brown, her complexion creamy and without a blemish.  

She wasn't stupid, she knew that what they had said was the truth and sometimes the truth hurts, this was one of those times.  She once was a fox, as the kids called sexy women today and as Troy had called the smiling woman in the photograph with Gordon. That seemed so very long ago.  Now, she was carrying an extra sixty pounds, no wonder she was always tired.  Her waist was nearly as big around as her hips and bosom.  It seemed that her dress size had been increasing one size each year until now it was a size fourteen.  Her hair was no longer brown and shining but grey and dull.  Her face had been her best feature, now it was the puffy, sad face of a woman who had aged before her time.  The lines at the corners of her eyes that had been so fine when she first noticed them, were now deeply etched into the surface of her skin.  Her lips were seldom covered with lipstick anymore and when they were it didn't take long for the color to flare into the small cracks.  She had stopped wearing contact lenses several years ago.  They were just too much trouble and had been replaced by sensible but unflattering glasses. She knew she was a mess and she hated it.  

The worst thing about her deterioration was that she no longer liked for Gordon to see or touch her naked body.  When she slipped into the big bed at night, she always wore a comfortable nightgown that left only her feet and arms uncovered.   But when they first moved into the house she longed for his caresses.  She loved for him to see her naked, to make love to her, the more frequently, the better.  Then, she was always moist and ready.  Now, she literally seemed to be drying up.

She had heard Troy ask Megan, "did your mom get sick?"  Megan said that she hadn't, she had just gotten old but forty-three wasn't old, thought Barbara.  Maybe Megan was wrong, maybe she was ill, maybe her illness was depression or some other psychological problem.  No matter what the reason, she knew that she couldn't go on like this.  Something had to change and change very soon.   She wanted to become, once again, the woman in the photo.  Alive, eager, beautiful, sexy, sexual, in other words, as Troy had said, a fox.

Barbara wished that Gordon would hurry home from the office.  She so desperately needed to talk with him.

Chapter 2

As Gordon Barton aimed the silver Mercedes 500 S north along the lake shore, he thought that he should be the happiest man on earth.  He was a partner in a prestigious law-firm.  He loved his work.  Megan, his daughter, was the apple of his eye.  She was smart as a whip. Everything should have been perfect, but it wasn't perfect. He was very worried about his wife.  He had been worried about her for years.  He wasn't at all proud of one aspect, an intimate side, of his personal life.

God, how he loved her. But their relationship had evolved into one that was much more like a brother sister relationship than a husband wife relationship.  It had been more than a month since they had made hasty love one morning before the sun came up.  They both knew that his desire for her did not cause his morning erections, or anything that she had done because of her desire for him, but by the pressure from his bladder.  Now, it would have been impossible for her to place her legs over his shoulders and pound up against him.  Yet that was the way it had been for them for several years, a dramatic reduction not only in frequency but also the intensity of their love making.  Her weight and the nightgowns she wore were like layers of armor and a real turn- off for him.   Nonetheless, he deeply cared for her.  He had almost resigned himself to a relationship that was becoming only platonic.  They did cuddle in the big king-size bed but that was about it except for the infrequent, furtive morning couplings. 

They had planned on a sister or a brother for Megan but it was not to be.  They tried and tried by Barbara didn't get pregnant.   Finally, a fertility specialist ran several tests and reported that he produced enough potent sperm to create an army but, because of scarring, Barbara would never create and bear another child.   He really believed that there might be a correlation between her weight gain, disinterest in her appearance, the waning of her libido and the early end of her child bearing years.

Half his partners had solved similar problems in a way that was distasteful to him.  They had married second wives, trophy wives.  Though the firm had a policy against it, most of their trophy wives had been young associates, para-legals, receptionists or assistants at the firm or someone that they had met from the client side.   He wasn't blind or dead and found himself surrounded every day by beautiful, sexy, bright women.  Women whom he knew found him attractive and let it be known, oh so subtly, that they were available and would welcome an advance from him.  The availability was tempting and sure wasn't easy to resist but he had never strayed.  Well, he had never strayed in Chicago.

His practice, securities law, required that he travel to New York City several times a year.   After the day's work was completed, more often than not, he found himself alone with nothing to do and he really hated being alone.  Hell, he was only in his forties.  He didn't want the life of a seventy-year-old until he was a seventy-year-old, or maybe even an eighty-year-old. 

Gordon had no idea what possessed him to do it but, for some reason, one night nearly a year ago when he was in New York, he was restless and wandered into a topless bar near his hotel.  He felt out of place.  He took a seat in the shadows against a wall as far from the stage as possible.  What he saw excited him in a way that he hadn't been excited since the old Barbara was absorbed into the enlarged body of the asexual new Barbara.   Two young, very beautiful dancers were on the stage.  They weren't just topless, as he expected them to be, they were bottomless as well.  They were smiling at the men who were leering up at them and tossing dollar bills on the wooden stage.  They brazenly rubbed their breasts and tweaked their swollen nipples.  Then, they would crouch down and spread their legs giving those men seated around the stage a bird's eye, gynecological view of their trimmed vaginas.

As he watched the dancers and the audience's reaction to them, he too found himself becoming aroused.  He stayed at the club and watched the dancers for half an hour.  He couldn't relax in the place because he feared he would be discovered by a client or a colleague.  As he was leaving, he noticed a stack of tabloid newspapers near the entrance door and a sign above them inviting customers to "take one."  He took a copy of "New York After Dark," rolled it up and slipped it into his jacket pocket.

Back in his hotel room he turned the pages of the newspaper and saw that it was essentially just advertisements.  There were several full page ads for escort services.  And several pages of smaller ads offering the same services. They seemed to be screaming at him.  "Are you alone?" "Want some company tonight?" "Beautiful models direct to you."  "NY's most beautiful women?"  "Call now, we'll be there in minutes.  Call 24 hours."

Gordon wasn't naive, but he wasn't a player either.  For the first time in his life he considered calling an escort service.   Prior to that moment, he couldn't imagine a man paying for sex.  But, he reasoned, he was out of town.  He surely wouldn't get emotionally involved with a working girl so, what harm could there be in calling and at least getting some information, he asked himself.  He sure didn't have to go through with anything.  On the other hand, wouldn't this make him just like all the men whose behavior he condemned?  As he was pondering whether or not to place a call, just to get details of course, he told himself, he came across a small ad that read, "I'm thirty and I'm told I'm very beautiful.  My place or yours.  Not a service. Marlene."

Without further thought, he punched 9 and waited for the outside line then dialed the telephone number on Marlene's ad.  She answered on the second ring.  Her voice was earthy and captivating.  "This is Marlene, may I help you?" 

"I saw your ad."

"Where are you staying, honey?"

"I'm at the Carlisle."

"Are you interested in some company?"

"How does it work?"  He questioned.

"Give me your name, I'll call you back and explain everything."

"I'm Gordon."

"And your last name, honey?"

"My last name?  Sorry, I thought that this would be anonymous."

"It's to make sure that I don't spend a lot of time calling back people who don't really exist.  Also, the Carlisle won't put a call through to just a room number.  You have to give them the registered name of the guest."

"I'm sorry.  I wouldn't be comfortable with that."

"I'm sorry too, you sound real nice, I'm sure we would have a great time.  Look, if you change your mind, give me a call.  If I don't answer you can leave the information on my answering machine and I'll call you back."

He hung up without saying goodbye.   He called home and talked with Barbara.  Then, he tried to watch television but kept coming back to the ad in the tabloid newspaper.  A half hour later he called the number again.  This time it was answered on the fourth ring but not by Marlene, by her answering machine.  "Can't come to the phone right now but I do, I really do want to talk with you.  Please, pretty please, leave your name and number and I'll call you back as soon as I can.  Wait for the beep."

He was about to hang up when he heard the universal beep and said,  "Marlene this is Gordon Barton we talked briefly earlier.  I'm in room 2735 at the Carlisle, the number here is 351- 4400."  When he hung up the receiver he questioned the wisdom of what he had just done.  You're getting reckless Barton, he said to himself.  He glanced at his watch and saw that it was nearly 11:00.  He doubted that he would hear from Marlene, she had probably gone to bed.

He almost always slept in his underwear.  For some reason, that night he crawled between the cool sheets naked.   He channel surfed, looked at some securities registration drafts and finally turned off the lamp at his beside and fell asleep.

Chapter 3

The ringing of the phone jarred him awake.   He cleared his throat before saying, "hello."

"Hi Gordon, it's Marlene.  Sorry to call so late.  It's nearly 1:00."

"That's okay, I wasn't sleeping," he lied.

"Are you still looking for some company?"

"Tell me about the arrangements."

"Well, I would come to your room.  How long would you want me to stay?"

"I don't know, maybe an hour or two."

"An hour is $300 plus cab fare and I appreciate tips.  Would that work for you?"

He had the information.  Now, what was he going to do with it?  While he was thinking about what to say next she said, "I can be there in twenty minutes."

Twenty minutes he thought.  He knew she was thirty, at least that's what the ad read but he didn't know anything else about her.  "What do you look like Marlene?"

She chuckled.  "I'm five-seven, hundred and fifteen pounds,  short blond hair, blue eyes, 36B.  I'm sure you'll be pleased."

He wasn't thinking rationally.  Hell, he wasn't thinking at all.  "Okay, that would be fine."

"Great!  I'll call you from a house phone before I come up.  See you soon.  And, Gordon, I hope you're rested up, I'm feeling frisky.  Bye," she said in a sexy voice that had been lowered at least an octave since they had struck an agreement.  

He spent a few minutes straightening the room.  He slipped on his trousers and shirt.  He didn't bother with underwear.  Then, he found a radio station that was playing soft background music.  He left only one lamp and the bathroom light on.  He brushed his teeth, applied deodorant and splashed shaving lotion on his cheeks.  Gees, Barton, you're acting like a school boy, get a grip, he chastised himself.  The red light on the telephone flashed even before he heard the ring.  "Hi."

"Be right up honey," she said and then hung up.

A few minutes later he heard the soft knock on the door.  Before he opened it, he looked through the peep hole and was pleasantly surprised.   Though slightly distorted by the small glass lens, the woman who stood on the other side of the door was everything and more that she had described.  He opened the door and she slipped into his room.

She was dressed in a business suit, elegant, almost conservative.  She was very beautiful.  For him the moment was awkward.  For her it was routine.  "Where are you from?"  She asked as she walked to the chair in the corner and sat down, not being at all careful with her skirt.

"Chicago," he said trying not to stare too hard at the skin that flashed above the top of the nylon stocking that encased the leg that was crossed and gently swinging over her other leg.

"Shall we take care of business first?" She asked with a big smile.

He was quickly reminded that this wasn't a date.  She was here for only one reason.  He reached for his wallet fished out three one hundred dollar bills and handed them to her.  They disappeared into her purse.  She looked around the room and asked, "do you have anything to drink?"

"In the mini-bar.  What do you want?" He asked

"Is there any white wine?"

He bent down opened the mini-bar and took out a half bottle of California Chardonnay.  He emptied the small bottle by pouring each of them an equal portion in the wine glasses on top of the mini-bar.  

She took a sip, set the glass down on the coffee table, stood up and said, "can I use your bathroom?"

"Sure."

"Why don't you get comfortable, honey?"  Then she walked into the bathroom and closed the door.

He slipped off his shirt, dropped his trousers and crawled under the sheets.

On the other side of the bathroom door Marlene was thinking that this would be very interesting. This guy, Gordon, sure didn't need to pay for it.  He was movie star handsome.  She would bet that this wasn't something he did very often.  Hell, she would bet he was a virgin to call-girls.  She had noticed the band of gold on his finger and would have bet that his lucky wife didn't have a husband who was accustomed to straying.

The door opened and the bathroom light was turned off before she walked into the room.  The business suit was gone.  Her breasts were bare, their nipples hard.  She wore no panties, only a black garter belt, black stockings and her high heels.  

She smiled at him and walked to the bed.  "Is there room for me in there?" She teased.

She dropped a small gold foil packet on the night stand, stepped out of her shoes and climbed in beside him.   She hardly ever kissed johns but she kissed his forehead,  his cheeks,  the tip of his nose, his eyelids.  Then she looked down into his blue eyes with her blue eyes, separated by less than a foot, and smiled.  She licked her lips and lowered them to his.

For Gordon, it was like his first kiss at a party when the bottle he spun stopped spinning and was pointed at Doris Murphy, he was thirteen.   Marlene made him feel like he was thirteen again.  As their lips were locked together, his hand tentatively reached between them and touched her breasts.  He cupped them.  She was communicating without words, the way women do, that she liked what he was doing.   Was she acting, he wondered, or did her throaty moans indicate she was truly excited?

Her delicate hand touched his hard chest.  While he was tweaking her nipples she was doing the same with his.  He hadn't realized how sensitive his nipples were.  When he didn't resist, she pinched harder.  Then her hand traced the spattering of hair on his chest down his flat stomach.  She stopped at his navel for a few seconds teasing him.  Then her hand was touching his cock, encircling it.  She broke the kiss, set up a little and said, "My God Gordon, that's a very nice package.  Your wife's a lucky woman."

"How did you know I'm married?"

"Well, most of my dates are with married men."  She laughed took his left hand, held it up in front of his face and said,  "And, the band of gold on your finger is a dead give away."  Again she leaned down and kissed him.  She spread her thighs and straddled his thigh.  He could feel her wetness and nearly lost it.  She was rocking from side to side.   Her experience told her that it was time.  With one hand she cupped his balls.  With the other hand she tweaked a nipple while her lips were locked on the other nipple.  Then she took the tiny nipple between her white teeth and gently bit.  He thought he would explode.  The pain/pleasure experience was new to him and he was surprised by his body's reaction.  But his chest and his nipples were only penultimate targets.   She threw the covers off of them and lowered her head. 


From Barbara to Barbie Pt. 2



It would be helpful if you read "From Barbara to Barbie" before reading this story.  Also, if you don't like stories where the characters are developed sufficiently to understand their attitudes and behavior, then this story probably isn't for you. If you do appreciate stories that are, hopefully, both thoughtful and erotic, enjoy the read.

Chapter 1

As the yellow cab moved uptown, its passengers were lost in their private thoughts.  Barbara snuggled up against her husband and curled her long legs on the seat under her.  She was more numb than anything.  She was also very tired because it had been nearly twenty-four hours since she had last slept.  Shame, the warm afterglow of unimaginable sex, regrets, tingling and lingering excitement and a fear of the future were the melange of contradictory feelings that she was experiencing.

Gordon held his wife and gently rubbed her shoulder.  In some ways, this was a more intimate connection than her connections of the previous hours.  She cradled her head against his broad chest.  What had actually happened was difficult for him to grasp, even though he had been an integral part of it.  Well, at least he was an observer, for an hour or so, of the activities that took place in the private club that catered to swinging couples.  Did what happened there qualify them as swingers? he asked himself.   God how he hated labels, though it hadn't been so long ago that he didn't hesitate to label nearly everyone with whom he came in contact.   Whore, slut and tramp, were words he had used to describe Barbara's best friend, Susan.  Did those same words now apply to the woman whose tousled blonde hair touched his cheek, his own wife?

The only words that had been spoken during the short ride was Gordon asking, "what do you want to do tomorrow?"  And Barbara's answer, "I promised Len that I would have a late lunch with him, he has a proposition he wants to make to me."  Then she shared with him her preference for a new name, "Gordon, I love it when you call me Barbara, or Babs but from now on please call me Barbie."  They both knew that the new name had a significance beyond how it sounded, it represented a transformation.

As the taxi stopped in front of the Carlyle hotel, the early morning light was creeping over the eastern horizon.  A new day was about to begin in the teeming metropolis and a new life had already begun for Barbara and Gordon.

The thick drapes that covered the window in their room completely blocked out the light of the new dawn.  Their exhausted bodies told them it was bedtime even though if they had been home, they would soon be waking up.  They simultaneously dropped their clothes in piles on each side of the king-size bed and tumbled under the covers.  Within seconds they were sleeping deeply.

When Barbara awoke, for a few seconds she didn't know where she was.  She padded to the bathroom to pee and was abruptly reminded what had happened during their time at Le Trapeze.  The flesh between her legs was tender but also incredibly sensitive.  When she swiped the tissue it came in contact with her still engorged clitoris.   She was trembling, as if she had too much to drink, but it wasn't alcohol that caused the tremors, it was a sensory overload.  The clock on the night stand indicated that it was after noon and, therefore, they had been sleeping for more than seven hours.  Barbara couldn't remember the last time they had slept in that late.

Gordon was still sleeping and she didn't want to wake him but she needed to talk with someone so she walked to the wall phone in the bathroom and dialed the familiar number of the only other person she could talk with about what was troubling her.  After just one ring she heard Susan's feisty voice.  "Hello.  You better not be selling anything,  I'm not in the mood."

"Hi, it's me.  Sounds like this isn't a good time for you to talk."  She placed a towel on the marble floor and slid down until her bare buttocks came in contact with the makeshift cushion.

"Oh hi Barb.  No this is a good time.  I've been bombarded by asshole salesmen all morning and I was ready to give the next one a piece of my mind.  What's up?"

Barbara didn't know where to begin.  They hadn't had a deep conversation since that night at La Costa more than three weeks ago.  That was the night that she had so vociferously defended fidelity.  During the brief, superficial telephone conversations since then they had talked about her surgery, getting back into her exercise routine and holding to her weight target.  She felt very foolish now because nearly everything that Susan had told her at the spa in California had been confirmed.

"I just got up," Barbara confessed.

"You just got up?  You've got to be kidding!  I can't remember a morning when you didn't get up with the chickens."

"We're in New York and didn't get to bed until five this morning."

"Okay girl, you've got my undivided attention.  I want to know everything and remember . . . I'll know if you're lying to me."

How do you tell your best friend that you spent an evening in a swing club?  How do you tell her that you pushed your husband into the arms and between the legs of a pretty Asian while you and her husband watched them fuck? How do you tell her that you were fucked by a monstrous cock attached to a Pakistani doctor.  Was it even possible to explain that the good doctor and a black man, who owned more than one escort agency, fucked your pussy and your ass at the same time?   How can you explain that even that hadn't been enough for you because for nearly two hours you welcomed the four horny black attendants of the club into your vagina, rectum and mouth? Barbara wasn't concerned about shocking Susan, because Susan was unshockable.  However, she was somewhat embarrassed because of her previous declarations about the sanctity of marriage and what she was now beginning to think of as the myth of monogamy. 

"Well, Gordon invited me to come with him on this trip and tack on a weekend for us.  We had a great dinner and caught a play, then he asked me if I wanted to go with him to a special club."  For the first time it dawned on her that if she hadn't accompanied her husband on the trip he probably would have been with Marlene or visited Le Trapeze by himself.  "Anyway," she continued, "the place was in the garment district and about as wild as wild can be."  She paused before continuing.  "Susan, it was a swing club."

"You at a swing club!  Are you serious, Barb?"

"Absolutely."

"Tell me what happened."

Barbara sucked in a lung-full of air and then told Susan every detail, that she could remember, of the long night of forbidden passion.  In the end, she explained to her friend that she now had regrets and was feeling sorry for what she had done.

"Give me a break!   You just told me that Gordon has been banging this call girl and visiting the same club as a single for over a year.  Sounds to me like you've still got some catching up to do."

"Susan, I'm not keeping score.  I love my husband but now I'm sure he'll never feel the same way about me again."

"Have you talked with him about your feelings?" Asked Susan.

"No, we haven't really talked since we left the club.  He knew that I felt like shit after I was with Rash the first time and that was what prompted him to tell me about Marlene and the club in the first place.  He wanted to make me feel better, I guess."

"I just think you might be surprised when you talk with Gordon.  I knew, I just knew that he couldn't be the perfect, loyal lawyer-boy, goody-two-shoes husband that you always told me he was."

"Well, lawyer-boy is dead to the world right now."

"So tell me, what are you going to do about having a late lunch with this Lenox guy?" Asked Susan.

Barbara sighed, then said, "oh, I'm not going to call him or ever see him again."

"That's stupid!  You only live once.  Wish I was there, I'd sure let him make his pitch to me."

Barbara laughed.  "I'm sure you would."

"Seriously Barb, what harm can come from a simple lunch?  At least call the guy, have lunch with him, it can't hurt to listen.  And, now that I think about it, that would give Gordon a taste of his own medicine.  If he can be with a call girl, you can be a call girl."

"No, Susan I couldn't be a call girl . . . even if I wanted to, which I don't.  Gordon's a lawyer.  He would lose his partnership and be disbarred if anyone ever found out."  She didn't know if that was true but it sounded good as she said it.

Susan didn't seem to be listening.  "You told me that Meg and Troy are serious.  Think about it, you could be a grandma in a year or so.  The clocks ticking my dear and you've been given a terrific opportunity to make up for lost time, at least for one special weekend."

"You're right about that, I mean you're right about Meg and Troy.  I don't know what to do.  Just because Gordon fucked around doesn't justify what I did last night or what might happen if I were to call Len."

"What's good for the goose is good for the gander, if you ask me.  So Mrs. Gander tell Gordon that you're going to call this guy.  I doubt that he thinks you'll actually do it.  If you do, I'll just bet he'll probably shit his pants." 

"Listen to you.  How brave.  You've never done it for money, Susan."

"Actually, I probably have balled guys for money.  I'm pretty sure that some of the guys that Steve brings home have paid him for the pleasure."

"How do you feel about it?  I mean, really, how could you do that?"

"What the fuck difference does it make?  If I didn't want to screw them, I wouldn't.  If I do want to and I get off and I get them off, so what?  Call him, this Lenox guy."

"Well I'm not going to call him.  Gordon would be furious."

"I think you and your husband have a lot to talk about.  If I were you I'd wake him up." 

Chapter 2

As she opened the drapes, the bright light penetrated the thin layer of skin that covered Gordon's blue eyes.  God, he was so handsome, she thought, as she watched him slowly wake up.  His mused hair made him look more like a little boy than a powerful attorney as he stretched and rubbed the sleep from his eyes.  "Good morning," she said.

"How long have you been up?" He asked, suppressing a yawn as he scooted back and sat up against the padded headboard.  "What time is it?"

"I've been up for maybe, oh, half an hour or so.  It's 12:30," she told him.  "Shall I order coffee from room service?"

"That would be great," he said as he slipped out of bed and walked naked into the bathroom.  He didn't bother to close the door as he lifted the toilet seat and let loose a yellow stream that splashed into the porcelain bowl.

As she saw him shake off the last drop, Barbara wondered if he was so carefree and comfortable when Marlene had visited him in this same hotel.  She hoped he wasn't, as she dialed room service and ordered coffee and rolls for two.  The Carlyle was famous for its room service and she was promised that it would be there in ten minutes or less.  The Carlyle kept its promise.

As she sipped from the steaming cup she said, "Gordon, I guess we have a lot to talk about, don't we?"

"I guess we do."  He looked at her and didn't see the woman that he was with last night at Le Trapeze.  The woman he saw was his wife, the mother of their daughter, the woman who worked tirelessly to put him through law school  He saw the woman who worked in the garden at home and, who recently, had the discipline and determination to regain control of her life.  But he also saw a woman as beautiful as any he had ever seen, one who was sexy and sexual beyond description.  As he starred at the naked body curled up in the big club chair he was surprised that there were no visible outward signs of her time at the club.  No hickeys, bruises or scratches.  But there was a glow, a radiance and a hidden secret, he detected, behind her hooded eye lids.  He would wait for her to begin, like the good lawyer he was trained to be.

"Where should we begin?" She asked.

"Where do you think we should begin?"  Sometimes it's better to answer a question with a question, he thought.

Barbara had lived with him long enough to know what he was doing.  "No you don't.  We need to have a conversation and that takes at least two people.  We need to talk about last night and I need to understand how you felt about the year when you were screwing Marlene and the others.  I guess, most importantly, we need to talk about our future."

He didn't like the ominous tone. "Barbara, I told you all about Marlene when we were at the club . . ."

"No you didn't.  All you told me was that one night, when you were here, you were horny and lonely because I was big and fat and didn't turn you on anymore . . ."

"That's not fair," Gordon said.  "I never said anything like that.  I admitted that I had screwed up and that I had been with her several times after the first time.  I told you everything, Barbara."

"Yeah, you sure did screw up and got screwed in the process,"  she said.

"Honey I don't want to fight."

"Neither do I but I need to get in touch with my feelings.  I don't want to feel jealous, or angry or worried about our future and I wouldn't blame you, after last night, if you wanted a divorce," she said.

"Are you crazy?  I was the one who strayed.  I was the one who suggested that we go to the club.  For a long time I thought we needed to do something that would put a spark back in our marriage and I don't mean you losing the weight.  I knew what might happen at the club and, in some way that I don't completely understand, I wanted what happened to happen.  At least a part of me did."

"I don't understand."

"Well, after that first night with Marlene, I couldn't help but think about you with another man.  For some reason I found the idea extremely exciting.  Then after the first time I was at the club and Ron introduced me to his wife, I wondered how I would feel if I saw you climbing the stairs with another man.  I don't have to wonder anymore."

"How do you feel?"

"A little jealous.  A lot excited.  Thrilled beyond what I could have imagined."

"Do you feel threatened?"  Barbara asked.

"Should I?"

"No, I don't think what you did with Marlene and the others or what I did last night needs to endanger our life together, our marriage.  What happened to each of us was physical.  What we have is, I believe, more than that . . . I sure hope we have more than just the physical."

"That's how I feel too," said Gordon somewhat relieved.

"But I do have a problem . . . now, I feel dirty, cheap, confused.  My self-respect seems to be on vacation too . . ."

"There's no need for you to feel . . ."

"Please let me finish, Gordon.  As I was about to say, for my whole life I've thought that saving it for the man that I married was something special.   I actually looked down on those girls who had a reputation in high school and college, those who slept around and didn't care who knew it.  I was proud that I had held out, maybe not until my wedding night, but at least I had waited for the man that I would eventually marry, I waited for you honey.  Later, when I would hear of a married woman that I knew who was having an affair, inevitably, I thought less of her.  When we found out about Susan and how she had been sowing wild oats, that probably should have been sowed earlier, if at all, that's when the confusion about this subject seriously began to set in for me.  I knew she was still the same person but somehow, in some way, I thought that she had become my moral inferior.  Does that make any sense?"

"Sure it does.  I felt the same way," he said as he finished his coffee and placed the empty cup on the coffee table. "But maybe we were both wrong about Susan and what she was doing." 

Barbara remembered almost every discussion that she had on the subject of sex with her mother, at church and in sex education classes in high school.  Every lecture was the same.  Good girls didn't, bad girls did.  If you did it, it was almost a certainty that you would get pregnant, catch some horrible disease or have your reputation ruined.  You might as well have been branded with a scarlet "A" for adulterer if you were married or a scarlet "F" for fornicator if you weren't married yet.   Now, she found it difficult to reconsider these moral imperatives.  She couldn't get pregnant and didn't need to catch a dose of something or some horrible disease if she was more careful in the future than she had been last night.  If she and Gordon were discreet, then no ones' reputation needed to be sullied.  But that wasn't really what this was all was all about.  Simply put, she asked herself for the thousandth time, was it wrong?  Was it immoral?  Were people who were married but went to bed with other people, with the consent or even with the encouragement of ones' spouse, somehow in someway evil.  Everything that she had been taught, except for Susan's recent lessons, held that it was wrong, it was bad, and yes, it was evil.  "What about the morality of this, Gordon?"

"I can't judge what anyone else does.   As for my own behavior over the past year, I felt bad about deceiving you and I think that was wrong. Not to be crude, but did I think it was wrong to put my cock inside another woman?  I used to think that it would be wrong, now I guess I don't. Maybe I'm just rationalizing or justifying my behavior.  Do I think you're different this morning after what happened last night, morally flawed in some way? No, I don't.  Like I said earlier, I think you're more exciting and I guess more interesting because of what you did.  If I thought you would leave me, or fall in love with some guy who was better in bed than me, then I would be very worried."

"Boy, you sound more like Susan than Susan, without the four letter words of course."  Barbara took the last bite of her croissant and asked, "what now?"

Gordon wasn't sure what he should say.  He wondered if he should talk with her about going back to the club that night.  He also wondered about what she said in the cab which prompted him to ask,  "what about your late lunch with the black man from last night?"

"You mean Len?" She bit her bottom lip as she did when was lost in thought,  "I don't know."  Then she thought about Marlene again.  "Tell me Gordon, what was it about Marlene that was so fascinating to you?"

"I told you what she looked like.  She was beautiful and sexy but not as beautiful and sexy as you are. Let me think about it?"  He paused looked up then said, "I guess it was the fact that she could talk with someone on the telephone, then go to his hotel room and within fifteen minutes, or less, have his cock in her pussy.  I think that's it, she's about as wanton as can be."

So, thought Barbara, his fascination with Marlene, the call-girl, had nothing to do with appearance or even her sexual technique, it had everything to do with Marlene's willingness to sell herself to anyone who could pay the price.  Obviously, that's the kind of woman Gordon really liked, she realized.  Then, without saying a word, she stood up, walked to where she had put her purse on the corner of the dresser, extracted Len's card, walked to the telephone on the desk as she looked over her bare shoulder, smiled at her husband, and then dialed the number on the card.  She thought that he probably wouldn't answer but she was wrong.

Gordon heard half of the conversation.  "Hi, this is Barbara from last night . . . oh, we've been up for awhile . . . no I'm fine . . . when and where?   An hour?  I think that would work . . . oh stop that Len," she said as she giggled like a school girl, "of course I can still walk . . . all right see you then, bye. " 

"I think I'll run a tub, I'm meeting Len downstairs in an hour."  She didn't ask her husband what he thought about the idea or if he had plans for them at 2:00, she just went into the bathroom and ran a hot tub.




From Barbara to Barbie Pt. 2



He didn't underestimate his wife, the new Barbie.  But he also thought that this would just be something fun for her to tell Susan.  He didn't know that it was the conversation with Susan while he was sleeping that had helped to embolden her to make the call in the first place.

When she finished her hot bath, she sat down at the vanity, put rollers in her golden hair, touched up her nails and then carefully applied her makeup.  She realized that she was taking extra care as she prepared for this late lunch with a man she really didn't know even though she had been intimate with him a few hours earlier.  In the walk-in closet she selected a smart navy blue suit that she had bought on Rodeo Drive in Beverly Hills after her surgery.   After she dressed, stepped into her heels and brushed her hair she was ready.  She saw that she would be a few minutes late but wasn't that fashionable? she wondered.

"So you're really going to meet that guy?" Asked Gordon.

"I don't see what harm can come in just meeting him, can you?"

"I guess not."  He realized that he didn't have any room to talk.  "How long do you think you'll be?"

"An hour or so.  Should we meet back here at, oh, say 3:30?" She asked.

"That's fine with me."

Chapter 3

Lenox Williams saw her before she saw him.  She was even more beautiful than he remembered. The navy blue Chanel suit with the skirt just a tasteful few inches above her bare knees and the expensive Italian high heels were perfect.   When she saw him, she broke into a smile of recognition and then walked toward him, taking strides as long as the tight skirt would permit.  He noticed that nearly everyone still in the cafe at this hour starred at her as she approached the corner table.  He stood to greet her and lightly kissed both of her cheeks.

He was wearing an expensive dark blue double-breasted suit with a crew neck burgundy silk T- shirt.  His eyes, that she didn't know were bloodshot, were covered by dark glasses. She imagined that everyone in the cafe thought that she was, most likely, a model or an actress meeting with her agent or manager for an innocent late lunch.  Then the irony of her unspoken thoughts caused Barbara to question her own motives for agreeing to this strange meeting, but she didn't have much time to question her motives.

"Sit down beautiful Barbie," he said as he pulled back the chair next to the one he had been sitting on.  "It's so good to see you again.  You look unbelievably gorgeous and, though I can't understand how, very refreshed."

"Thanks, I feel fine."

"I have to tell you Barbie, I haven't been able to stop thinking about last night, I guess I should say this morning, you were fantastic."

She turned six shades of red as this man she didn't really know complimented her, implicitly, on her sexual abilities.  "Stop it Len, we're in public."

"Do you want to go somewhere more private?"  He asked with a chuckle.

"That's not what I meant.  I just meant that this isn't the place to talk about last night.  Also, I'm kind of uncomfortable talking about that subject, not just here but anywhere."

"Why's that?"  He wanted to know as he took her hand in his and leaned closer to her so she could answer more quietly.

"Can I have something to drink before we continue?"

"Of course, I'm sorry for not asking.  Do you want something to eat also? What do you want to drink?"

"I'm not hungry and I'll have what you're having."

Lenox thought that was a good sign.  Here was this beauty, in a small way, placing herself in his hands.  He remembered that a few hours ago at the club, she didn't resist at all as he made arrangements for four of the men who worked at the club to join them in the private room.  She had been as enthusiastic as humanly possible.  He caught the attention of the waiter and ordered a J&B on the rocks for each of them.   "So tell me, Barbie, why are you uncomfortable talking about what happened at the club?"

She looked around, leaned closer and said, "don't get the wrong idea about us, Len.  That was the first time I've ever done anything like that?"

He laughed.  "Are you telling me you were a virgin?"

"Stop it!  You know what I meant.  I meant I had never done anything like that with another man.  We're a very straight couple from the mid-west, at least we were.  I wasn't a virgin when we married but he was the first and only man for me until last night."

"Well, take it from someone who knows a great deal about these things, you were wonderful, the best ever for me," he said truthfully.  It wasn't necessary for him to lie or exaggerate to her about his experience between the cheeks of her ass and what he saw Rash and the others do to her and what she, in return, did for all of them.

"Well, thanks, I guess that's a compliment," she said just before their drinks arrived.  She would have ordered something fruity, less strong than straight scotch, which she thought of as a man's drink, but it was smoother than she expected and perfect for sipping slowly.  

"What are your plans for tonight?" The handsome black man asked.

"We haven't made any plans.  Why do you ask?"

He didn't answer her but reached in his side jacket pocket, took out something and then placed a small Nokia cell telephone on the table and pushed it towards her.

"What's this for?  I already have a cell phone."

"Not like this one.  This is a special phone, Barbie."

"What makes it so special?"  She wanted to know.

"Well that phone is programmed to receive calls, voice mail and text messages only from my agencies and to place calls by pushing just one button back to them.  You might think of it as an electronic link to my world."

Barbara wasn't surprised.  She knew last night, and then when she was taking her bath, that sometime during their lunch--their liquid lunch--that this subject would come up.  "What's that got to do with me?  Why would I need to be in touch with your world?"

He smiled knowingly at her and said, "need, is the right word, Barbie.  Of course you don't have to communicate with us but, after last night, I really think you need to.  I've never seen a woman enjoy herself more at Le Trapeze than you did and I've seen a lot of women there.  You were special, you are special."  He swirled the cubes in his glass, took a sip of the amber liquid and said, "I couldn't count the number of times that you climaxed.  And the men, well speaking for myself, you sucked me dry and drained every drop of my semen deep into your ass."

Barbara caught her breath.  She knew that she was flushed, her heart was racing wildly and this talk was making her dampen her tiny panties. "Last night at the club with my husband was one thing, what you are suggesting is something else. My husband and I haven't even decided if we will ever go back to the club or participate in something like that in the future."

"Let me ask you something, Barbie.  Does your husband know where you are?"

"Yes, I told him that we were meeting here.  He's upstairs waiting for me."

"What did he have to say about us meeting?"  Len asked.

"He didn't say anything."

"Well, in my experience, if he didn't tie you up and lock the door he is more than okay with the idea."

She knew that he was right.  Gordon had told her himself that after the first time with Marlene, Marlene the call girl, he had thought of her doing the same thing.  He had thought of her with other men.  He didn't say a word to stop her from getting dressed to keep her appointment with Len.  She sensed that for both of them this weekend was to be a trial period.  A time where they could test their respective limits.  Susan had told her that if she had the same opportunity she would jump at the chance.  "You may be right about my husband," she admitted, "but I seriously doubt that men would be interested in someone my age."

"You're wrong about that.  I can tell you that most men aren't interested in the twenty-year-old, they'd much rather be with a woman in her late twenties or earlier thirties." 

So he thought she was at least a decade younger than she was.  That was very flattering.  She didn't see any need to correct him.  She picked up the cell phone and said,  "I'm not saying that I want to use this cell phone but if I did, how would it work?"  Then she placed the small phone back on the table.

"I understand, but if you were to take the phone with you, then you would merely wait for it to ring. One of my girls who works the phones would tell you the name of the client, the hotel he is staying at and his room number.  If he wants a certain type of date she would tell you about that. You would tell her where you are and she would estimate how long it would take for you to get to the client's location.   When you arrive at the hotel you would call the client from the house phone and then go directly to his room."

This was more than she wanted to know.  But another part of her thought that this must have been what it was like for Gordon and Marlene, at least the first time they were together, except that Marlene dealt directly with her clients and not through an agency.  "What would I wear?"

"What you have on is almost perfect.  There's just one thing though, your legs are bare, you should always wear stockings and a black garter belt, never wear panties.  The garter belt sort of frames the merchandise and drives guys wild.  It's entirely up to you, but most guys love a bald pussy.  Also, never wear a bra and you sure don't need one anyway.  It wouldn't hurt if you put your hair up until you were in the room, then you could let it down.  Plain glasses from a drug store would make you look more like a business woman, a hotel guest.  We can't be too careful in this business."

"What about the . . . oh, this is difficult, what about the services?"

"Honey, last night I saw you suck and swallow and get fucked in the pussy and the ass.  Unless you're into golden showers or S&M or B&D then what you did last night is about the full range of straight menu services."

"I meant the charges," she explained softly as she looked down at the table. 

"Three bills, $300, is the minimum for an outcall.  It's entirely up to you, but you should be able to get more for anal and with your looks and enthusiasm a big tip, maybe a c note or more.  I can't tell you that part because I won't be there.  You'll have to rely on your womanly instincts." He pushed the phone a few inches closer to her glass.

It's funny, she thought, I can thank him for the drink, stand up and leave and return to my husband and the safety of our room, or I can take the telephone and wait for it to ring.  She sipped from her glass, then set it down on the white linen table cloth and slowly moved her delicate hand to the phone and picked it up.

Success! Len thought to himself as he smiled at his conquest.  "It's still early Barbie.  You probably won't get a call until 7:00 or so.  When you get to the client's room you ask if he's a cop.  After you settle on the money, you press "1" and the phone will automatically call the agency.  If he's paying by credit card, the agency will take care of it and let you know that it was approved in just a minute or two. Tell the agency that you're in the room, how long you expect to stay there and that everything's okay.  Then, it's best to tell the client to get comfortable and ask if you can use his bathroom.  He knows, almost always, that getting comfortable means getting undressed.  In the bathroom take off everything but your stockings, garter belt and heels."  He chuckled then said, "There's not much coaching I can give you for what happens when you come back in the room but you sure don't need any coaching. When you finish you press "1" again and tell the agency you're available.  Obviously, if you haven't called by the appropriate time, then they'll call you.  We have a good system that really works.  Any questions?"

"Not that I can think of."  She didn't have a clue what questions to ask.  He'd already told her more, and in greater detail, than she thought was necessary.

He reached into his pocket and discreetly placed something under his big black hand and slid it towards her, "take these and never, never do anything without protection."

When he lifted his hand she saw that it was a package containing a dozen lubricated condoms.  She quickly put the package on her lap, looked around the room, and hoped that no one saw what he had passed to her.  "I guess that's it then," she said.  

"There's one other thing, if you press "2" the phone dials me directly.  If you get into trouble or things get slow and you're lonely, press "2." "

She slipped the phone and package of condoms into her clutch bag.  They stood, embraced and walked out of the cafe.  He walked quickly to the entrance and she walked to the elevator lobby.

Chapter 4

Gordon couldn't remember when an hour had elapsed more ponderously.  He told housekeeping to come back later, then he took a shower, slipped on a pair of khakis and tried to watch Saturday afternoon television.  His mind, however, was not on the television but on this incredible creature who had emerged from years of not caring about her appearance to the point that it had nearly ended whatever sex life they once had.  All of that was in the past.  The present was more than he could have expected.  Last night, Barbara took to the club like a duck to water and he couldn't have been more surprised that she was interested in meeting Len and hearing what he had to say.  The fact that she had taken special care before she left for her meeting with the black man, did not go unnoticed.

It seemed like several hours had passed, though he knew it had only been an hour, when he heard the gentle knocking on the door.  "How'd it go?"  He asked.

"Fine.  We didn't have anything to eat, just a drink and some conversation."

"That's what I meant, how did the conversation go?"

"He has these escort agencies and he wants me work for him tonight and see how it goes."

"What did you tell him?"

She didn't answer but opened her purse, took out the cell phone and the package of condoms and dropped them on the bed.  Then she unbuttoned her jacket slipped it off her shoulders, reached behind her and deftly unhooked her sheer bra.  She stepped out of her heels, unzipped the skirt and let it drop.  Her panties, with a moist gusset, were added to the pile of clothing.  "I'm going to rest for a while, Len said not to expect a call until after 7:00 that should give me three hours before I have to get ready.  Care to join me?" She asked seductively as she patted the bed..

Gordon had been with two other women since he had made love with his wife, the Asian upstairs at the club and Rash's wife in one of the private rooms.  If his count was correct, Barbara had been with six different men and Rash twice.  Their lips joined, husband and wife were connecting. He tasted the residue of scotch and smelled it on her breath.  This was new too, he didn't know she drank scotch.  Their warm bodies touched from shoulder to toe.  He broke the kiss and locked his lips around one of her hard nipples.  It was, of course, familiar but almost undetectably different. Just a fraction thicker, a centimeter longer, a degree harder than he could remember.  Also, judging by her reaction as she held his head, it was more sensitive than in the past.  He switched breasts and found that they still matched perfectly in size and sensitivity.  Then, his hand touched her pubis and she parted her legs.  His fingers gently rubbed the area between her thighs and then, with his index finger, he parted her soaking folds. He teased the swollen lips and then touched her sensitive clit. She recoiled from his touch as if she had been touched by the tip of an electric cattle prod.  Instantly, she experienced her first orgasm of the day, at least in the daylight and in their room.

Why can't I be satisfied with this?  She asked herself.  Gordon was a caring, accomplished lover.  As handsome, intelligent and charming as any man she had ever known.  She stopped thinking because her feelings had taken over as he scooted down her body, placed his mouth on her vagina and began to lick and nip and suck from her clit to her anus.  When he took the little nub between his lips and sucked as hard as he dared, she began a non-stop climax that ended with her begging him, just like she had begged Len and Rash at the club.  "Oh . . . Oh honey, that feels soooo good but now you've got to fuck me . . . fill me up . . . please, please put it in . . . don't make me wait."

He didn't make her wait.  He plunged into the vagina that he had been in thousands of times before.  This time, he knew that the same flesh that was surrounding his pulsing shaft had surrounded five black penises, Rash's giant shaft, countless fingers and several different tongues. Nonetheless, it felt wonderful, maybe more wonderful than ever before.  His thoughts, however, didn't help him prolong his own climax, they had just the opposite stimulating effect.  Within minutes he announced,  "here it comes baby . . . I can't hold off any longer . . . ahhhhh . . . oh shit." As he stiffened and emptied his balls of their fresh semen.

"No baby, please wait . . . hold on . . . ahhh."  But she felt that it was too late.  She should have helped pace them rather than meet him thrust for thrust in a frantic race to the finish line of his climax.  She wanted this time to last longer and be more special for them but she also knew that it would a couple of hours before he could recover and be ready for more.

It didn't take long for them to fall into an exhausted sleep in each others arms.

Barbara heard a sound that was unfamiliar.  Was she dreaming, she asked herself, as the sound persisted until she became fully awake from her nap.  Then she knew what it was, it was the ringing of the cell phone that Len had given her.  She, cleared her throat, pushed the green talk button and said, "hello."

"Hi Barbie, this is Myrna.   There's a mister Porter at the Helmsley Palace that would like some company.  Do you have something you can write on?"

"What time is it?"

"It's a few minutes after 5:00," said Myrna.

"I didn't expect you to call for another couple of hours."

"Len said you would be ready and for some reason we're busier than usual.  We really need you.  Do you have something to write with?"

"Hang on," she said as she walked to the desk, grabbed a pencil and a note pad.  "Go on."

"Mr. William Porter, he's in room 767 at the Helmsley Palace, that's near Sak's Fifth Avenue.  He's okay, a regular with our agency.  Where are you now and how long will it take for you to get there?"

"I'm at the Carlyle but I have to get ready, say 45 minutes."

"Okay, Barbie, I'll tell him you'll be there about a quarter to six."  Then she was gone.

Gordon had been listening to the conversation.  In forty-five minutes, his wife would be doing what Marlene had done with him.  She would go to a man's room.  The man would give her money and she would have sex with someone she had never met and for whom she had no feelings.  He knew that before she could leave their room, however, she would have to remove the deposit he had left inside her body before they fell asleep.

Barbara didn't know that the sound of the cell phone had also awakened Gordon.  As she walked into the bathroom and ran her second tub of the afternoon she assumed he was still asleep.  How fast things were moving, she thought.   While the tub was filling she went to the dresser and removed a pair of black stockings and a black garter belt that she had bought in Beverly Hills.  When she bought them she had naughty thoughts of how Gordon would react to her change from pantihose to stockings.  Now, the reaction would come from William Porter.  Who was William Porter?  How old was he?  What did he look like?  Thinking like Susan, she couldn't help but wonder, how big was his cock, the cock that would be inside her body in about an hour? The thought caused her body cavity, involuntarily, to become moist in anticipation.




From Barbara to Barbie Pt. 2



In the bathroom she forced water inside her vagina and washed out the remnant of Gordon's ejaculation.  She was amazed that she was preparing herself for another man.  Last night, at the club, it had been very different.  When they left the hotel for an innocent dinner and a play she had no idea that before the night was over men, other than her husband, would see and touch and experience every inch of her body.  Tonight, there would be no doubt that at least one man, William Porter, would see, feel and smell her.  She remembered the advice that Len had given her and reached for her razor.  With a few swipes she was hairless above her cleft and between her legs.  For the second time that afternoon she brushed her hair and applied makeup to her pretty face.

Fifteen minutes later when she walked back into the room she saw that Gordon was awake and sitting up in bed.  "I have an appointment in half an hour," she explained as she took the stockings and sat down in the chair in the corner of the room.

Gordon had a perfect close-up view of an erotic reverse strip tease.  She starred at him as she rolled a stocking, put her toes in and skinned it up her long leg.  She repeated the slow process with the other leg. Then she fastened the garter belt, twisted it around and clipped the garters to the lace tops of each stocking.  She walked to his side of the bed and stood in front of him with her legs slightly spread.  "Do you like it?"  She asked.

He knew that she wasn't talking about her stockings and garter belt but her hairless mound.  "Very much," he answered as he reached out and touched the smooth, soft skin above her cleft that was now devoid of any trace of pubic hair.  He could smell the fragrance of her perfume that had been sprayed on her mound.

She smiled at him, stepped into her skirt, pulled it up and zipped it.  Her jacket and shoes were next.  He was surprised to see her put her hair in a bun and he couldn't remember the last time that she had done that.  The cell phone and package of condoms were placed in her purse.

"Well, I guess I'm as ready as I'll ever be," she said bravely.

"What time will you be back?" He asked.

His question caught her totally by surprise.  She really didn't know when she would be back.  Len had told her that when she finished she was to call and say that she was available.  Would she have time to return to the room before another call?  Would she want to accept another call? Would she have time to meet Gordon somewhere else, perhaps for dinner?  "I really don't know.  I'll call you."

"What's the number of the cell phone?"  He asked.

"I know this sounds stupid, but I don't know that either."  She looked at the face of the phone and expected to see the number but there wasn't one.  "I guess I'll just have to call you.  Will you be in the room or on your cell phone?"

"Try the room first, then my cell."  He got out of bed, walked to her, took her in his arms and kissed her softly, tenderly, lovingly.  "I love you Babs."

"I love you too but for tonight it's Barbie, okay?"  Then she was gone.

Chapter 5

The ride from 76th and Madison to 50st and 5th Avenue took only a few minutes because it was Saturday and there wasn't any traffic.  As she walked into the elegant lobby of the Helmsley Palace she was sure that every person who glanced at her knew exactly why she was there.  She imagined that every man was a house detective and would question her presence in a hotel where she wasn't a registered guest.  She saw the house phones against a wall, walked to them and dialed 7 plus the room number.

"Hello," said a deep voice.

"Hi, this is Barbie, I'm in the lobby, is it okay to come up?"

"It sure is.  See you in a second, sweetheart."

As she walked the few steps to the elevator, she hoped that she wouldn't fall down because her legs weren't obeying her commands, they had a life of their own.  She wanted to stride purposefully and confidently to the elevator car that would lift her six floors above the lobby but her steps were tentative.  She noticed that her hand was trembling as she pushed the button emblazoned with the number 7.  When she exited the elevator she saw that 767 was to her left at the end of a long corridor.  Why couldn't it be closer? She wondered.  It seemed like the longest walk she had ever taken, then she was standing in front of a door with a brass plaque with the number 767 inscribed on its face.  She took a deep breath and softly knocked on the door.

When Bill Porter heard the soft rap he walked to the door and looked through the peep hole.  What a beauty he thought.  Even better than how the agency described her.  She seemed nervous as she looked first to her right, then to her left.  She was about to knock again when he opened the door. 

"You've got to be Barbie.  Come in, come in."

After she stepped into the parlor of his suite, he slipped the "do not disturb" sign over the outside door knob, closed the door behind her and turned the dead bolt and hooked the chain.  She guessed that William Porter must have been sixty years old.  He was nearly bald and must have been carrying an extra fifty pounds on his six-foot frame.  But his tailored clothes and the expensive corner suite reflected his ability to pay; not just for his attire and lodging but also for female companionship.  It was a very awkward moment for her.  It seemed silly but she stuck out her hand for him to shake and said, "yes, I'm Barbie, it's nice to meet you Mr. Porter."

"What's this Mr. Porter nonsense.  I'm Bill."  He ignored her offered hand and took her in his arms and gave her a friendly hug.  "Sit down, take a load off," he said as he pointed to a sofa in front of the fireplace.  

As she sat down on the sofa and crossed her long legs he sat in a chair opposite her, not next to her on the couch as she expected.  She noticed that her skirt had ridden more than halfway up her thigh and that the lace top of her stocking and a sliver of flesh was revealed to his eyes.  "Bill, I'm sorry that I have to ask you but . . . well, are you a police officer?"

He laughed.  "No Barbie, I'm not a cop.  I run a small company and fly into the big apple several times a year on buying trips.  Can I get you something to drink?"

"It's a little early for me but a soft drink would be fine, though."  At least holding a glass would give her something to do with her hands rather than wringing them in her lap as she had been since she sat down.

He mixed a cocktail for himself and poured a coke over ice cubes in a glass for her.  "Cheers, here's to us.  May the next hour or so be enjoyable for each of us."  He touched his glass to hers and then did sit down beside on the sofa.

His toast seemed kind of corny to her but sweet, nonetheless.  "Shall we take care of business first?  What did you have in mind, Bill?"  She asked with a smile.

He got up, went into what she assumed was the bedroom and returned holding several bills in his hand.  He handed her four one hundred dollar bills and said, "That's for starters.  I want an hour that will make me want more.  I'm not as young as I used to be and sometimes my mind and my body aren't in synch.  Right now, I'd like to be with you all night in my mind but in an hour from now my cock might have other ideas."

She took the four bills, folded them and slipped them into her purse from which she took out the cell phone.  She pushed "1" and almost instantly heard, "Hi Barbie, this is Myrna."  Obviously the agency had caller ID.

"Everything's fine here.  We'll start with an hour and call you if we're going to extend." She didn't wait for an answer but pushed end, slipped the small phone back in her handbag, took out the package that Len had given her earlier and said, "Bill may I use your bathroom?"

"Sure honey, use the one in the bedroom."

She walked towards the bedroom, looked over her shoulder, smiled and said,"Why don't you get comfortable."  Her legs had stopped shaking, she was feeling more confident and her body was becoming aroused.  In the bathroom she took off her jacket and skirt, then she opened the package and took out two foil packets that contained the lubricated condoms. When she opened the door to the bedroom, she saw that it was softly illuminated by only a small lamp.  Bill was laying on the bed naked and gently stroking his growing cock.  

He was surprised at her beauty.  She had let her hair down and stood in the doorway posing for him. Her nipples were already hard and he saw that she had no pubic hair.  She walked to the bed, kicked off her shoes and joined him on the bed.  He took her in his arms and brought his face to hers.  He couldn't believe it, here was a working girl who kissed him back with fervor.  In the past they almost always told him that they saved their kisses for their husbands or boyfriends.  He had noticed the band of gold on the ring finger of her left hand and knew that she was married as were about half of the working girls he had been with in New York.  Bill knew that his kisses were getting to her because she was writhing on the bed and her hands had begun to explore his body.  First his broad shoulders, then his back, then between them touching his chest and down over his hairy belly until she touched his hard cock.  If he wasn't mistaken, she actually moaned when her hand came in contact with his above average, but certainly not huge, penis.

She kissed his neck, his chest covered with grey hair and then a tiny swollen nipple.  "Harder," he commanded.  So she sucked the turgid, small nipple harder but that wasn't enough for him.  "Harder," he commanded again.  She lifted up and looked at him quizzically.  "Bite it," he said by way of explanation of his expectations.  So, she took it between her teeth and applied a little more pressure.  "Harder," he said again.  This was new, Gordon and the men at the club seemed content with gentle kisses and tongue baths to their nipples.  For her, when Gordon was too rough with her boobies, it hurt a little and she couldn't see a connection between the pleasure and pain.  In fact the pain was a distraction.  I didn't seem to be a distraction for Bill, however.  As she bit harder she took the other nipple between her finger nails and pinched.  The attention was having the right effect because his breathing became heavier and he pulled her head even more tightly to his chest.  "Harder," he said again.  She was afraid if she bit any harder she would break the skin.  Maybe that was it, she thought, finding that point where the pain was barely tolerable but didn't quite eclipse the pleasure that he was receiving from her mouth and hand.

"Okay, that's enough," he conceded after a couple of minutes.  "How about some head?"

The large penis was bright red, and he was almost gasping for breath.  She hoped that he didn't have a heart attack as she lowered her red lips to the tip of his cock.  First, she licked from the root to the tip and bathed the surface of the throbbing, circumcised shaft with her saliva.  Then she opened her mouth and engulfed as much of the shaft as she could accommodate in her oral cavity.  As she moved up and down, she swirled her tongue around the head and sucked.  He was moaning and holding her head.   "Turn around, sit on my face at the same time you're sucking me," he directed.   

She followed his directions, exactly.  As she continued to suck his cock, she lowered herself over his face until his exploring tongue came in contact with her wet pussy.  He lapped at her like a hungry puppy drinking from a bowl of warm milk.  She balled the white sheet in each hand as he brought her to an orgasm and soaked his face.  This just made him want more, he was ravenous.  He licked her taint and then his pointy tongue came in contact with her asshole, an opening that had become much more sensitive, after its treatment last night, than it had ever been before.  As he probed her anus with his tongue, he parted his legs and lifted up.  She knew exactly what he wanted and wondered, for a moment, if she could accommodate this unspoken but urgent request.  She lifted her face off his shaft and kissed the hairy testicles.  Then, she took each one into her mouth and gave it a bath.  Her pointy tongue traced the seam under his scrotum.  She found that she had to lean forward and break the contact with Bill's mouth as she tentatively touched the brown crinkly hole with the pink tip of her tongue.  He pushed forward as she took a cheek in each hand and parted them.  For several minutes she probed as deeply as possible and only stopped when he said, "stop Barbie, come up here."

She didn't think that he would want to kiss her, considering where her mouth had been and what it had been doing, but he did.  And, she didn't mind kissing him knowing that his lips and tongue had probed her own backside first.  He tried to put his cock in her pussy but she stopped the kiss and said, "just a sec, Bill."  She tore open the packet on the night stand and rolled the moist latex over his penis.  For the first time in her life she asked a partner, "do you want me on top, or do you want to be on top?"  With Gordon, in an unspoken communication, their variety of positions evolved during their love making.  But she didn't know this man or his preferences.

"I don't give a fuck, I just have to be inside you right now."

She squatted over him and lowered herself until the tip of his cock kissed the lips of her wet pussy, then she slowly sank down, completely engulfing his hard penis until she was seated on his thighs.  The newly sensitized nerves surrounding the mouth of her vagina were excited by the new and different penis.  It wasn't the longest that had been inside her-- much smaller than Rash's monster-- it wasn't the widest, it wasn't the hardest and it wasn't attached to the most handsome and charming person with whom she had sexual intercourse but it thrilled her and satisfied her, nonetheless.  "Oh Bill, that feels soooo good, aaaaahhh . . . I'm . . . I'm going to cum . . . ohhhh, ohhhhh."  Her wet, swollen flesh massaged Bill's cock and his cock massaged her internal tissues.  After she caught her breath she lifted up and then dropped down.  She felt him push into the mattress and then lift off as they increased the tempo until they were pounding together.   Within in a few minutes, he stiffened and filled the tip of the condom with a thick, grey viscous liquid.  Oh no, she thought, twice in one day.  First Gordon came too soon and now Bill had done the same thing.  She was still on fire, a fire that had yet to be quenched.

"Barbie," he said as he held her in his arms, "you are one fabulous fuck.  I've been buying pussy here for years and I've never, never had a session like this one."  His penis was deflating and then plopped out of her body.  

"Do you want to extend?" She asked, realizing that their time was nearly up.

"Are you kidding?  Did you take life insurance out on me?"  He laughed at his own question.  "No honey, I'm finished.  I'll sleep like a baby though.  Thank you."

As she got out of bed and looked at him, instinctively she realized that there was more to do, it was time to clean up.  His flaccid penis was bathed in his own semen inside the used condom.  She carefully skinned it off his cock, took it into the bathroom and discarded it in the wastebasket. Then she put a wash cloth under the warm water from the basin faucet and wrung it out.  Back in the room, she bathed his tired penis with the cloth and kissed him on the cheek.  

"Hey Barbie, will you marry me?" He asked.

She smiled down at him, held up her left hand, wiggled her fingers emphasizing her wedding band and said, "too late, love, already spoken for.  If I wasn't, though, I'd sure consider it."  Then she didn't know what possessed her to do it but she went back into the brightly lit bathroom, left the door open and sat down on the toilet that was right in front of the open door and spread her legs.  She had his attention.  He propped his tired head on his hand and watched as she smiled at him and peed.  He couldn't believe his eyes as she tore off a piece of tissue and wiped herself.  This was a first for him and though, he couldn't have known, also a first for her.

A few minutes later she appeared as she had when he first saw her.  Her hair was in a bun, she looked like a guest of the hotel.  He watched as she pressed a number on the cell phone and waited.  "Hi this is Barbie . . . okay . . . hang on for a sec,"  she went to the desk and wrote something on a pad and then said, "ten minutes should be fine.  On second thought make it fifteen minutes, I have to make a phone call."

"This is for you," said Bill as he handed her another $100 bill.  "Let me walk you to the door." 

"Thanks Bill but you stay there, I'll find my own way out."  She leaned down kissed him lightly on the lips and left.

Chapter 6

The New York Hilton, located on the Avenue of the Americas or, as the natives continued to call it, 6th Avenue, was a short walk from the Helmsley Palace.  Myrna told her that it was a "special for two hours," and the fee would be "$800" but she didn't explain what a "special" was and Barbara didn't recall that Len had said anything about a "special" either.  Mr. Thomson, she was told, was in room 1245.  She told Myrna that she needed a few minutes to make a phone call and hoped that Gordon was still in the room because she didn't want to place a long distance call to his cell phone.  The pay phones were located next to the house phones, fortunately Gordon answered on the first ring.  

She was relieved that he was in the room.  "Hi honey.  I wanted to tell you that everything went fine, I'm okay."

"When will you be back?" he wanted to know.

"It won't be for at least two more hours.  I'm at the Hilton now and have an appointment in a few minutes but I wanted to talk with you and explain."

"That would make it after nine," he said.

"I guess that's about right.  Although, when I call the agency after I've finished, they may have something else for me."

"This could probably go on all night then."

"You're guess is as good as mine, Gordon."

"So, if you have a minute, tell me about your appointment."

"Not much to tell.  He was an older gentleman, very nice."

"Barbara, tell me, did he make you cum?"

"Of course he did, you know me.  And, want to know something?  I made him cum too," she said, punctuated by her laughter.

"I'll just bet you did."

"What are you going to do until I get back, whenever that may be?" she asked.

"I don't know.  Maybe I'll go out, catch a movie.  I doubt that you'll be back at nine.  I imagine that's the busiest time of the night.  I probably won't see you again until in the morning."

"You could always call Marlene."

"Why would I want to do that?  You'll be back and I can save it for you."

"If you wanted to call her, I wouldn't object, that's all I meant." Remembering what Susan had said earlier she played on those words by saying, "how does it go, something like what's good for gander, that's me, is good for the goose, that's you?"

"Whatever, but I doubt that I'll call Marlene.  Call me again when you get a chance.  If I'm not here, leave a message and let me know that everything is okay."

"I will.  I love you, Gordy?"

"I love you too, honey."

This time the elevator ride was less frightening for her than it had been in at the Helmsley Palace. Well, obviously it was not the elevator ride that had been unnerving but not knowing what was at the end of the elevator ride.  Now she knew what to expect, at least she thought she did.  The door to 1245 was opened by a tall, thin young black man who couldn't have been more than twenty-five.  She was surprised at his age because he wasn't much older than her daughter, Meg. "Mr. Thomson?" she asked.




From Barbara to Barbie



Her lips were hot as they kissed the top of his penis.  Her pointed tongue tried to pierce the hole at the tip of his shaft, she licked the pearly drop of pre cum that was oozing from the tip, looked up at him, licked her lips and said, "ummmmm, yummy."  

Gordon wondered if he had been living a cave.  He truly never knew that there were women in the world like Marlene.   Then, she took the head in her mouth and swirled her tongue around it. She lowered her head and took several inches into her wet mouth.   Slowly she lowered and raised her head.  At the same time she sucked and swirled her tongue.  If she kept this up for another minute he would cum in her mouth.  That wasn't what he wanted to do and she knew it. However, she seemed to be having a good time tormenting him.  When he thrust up against her face she realized she had gone about as far as she could.

She lifted up, reached over him, took the foil packet from the night stand and returned to his groin.  He couldn't see what she was doing, but when she lifted up again he saw that his throbbing cock was now sheathed in latex for the first time in years.  She straddled him and walked on her knees to his chest, until her knees were pressed against his armpits.  The neatly trimmed thatch of dark blonde, curly pubic hair was inches from his face.  He reached behind her, touched her ass and explored between her legs. She was very wet.  He wondered if he had produced the wetness or she had taken care of that artificially when she was in the bathroom.

Marlene almost never let a trick put his fingers inside her.  Tongues and cocks were much cleaner than fingers she had learned by experience.  But she wasn't thinking of Gordon as a trick, or a john or a paying customer.  She hadn't been in his room for fifteen minutes, and she had been with three men already, but for some reason she was attracted to him so when he thrust first one finger, then two deep inside her she said nothing but began to move against them.  

"You're so wet."  He said.

"Better to fuck you with my dear.  Are you ready?"

"Not yet."  He wanted to make the most of the situation.  His fingers were exploring inside her vagina.  If he reached just right and she moved just right he could feel the tip of her cervix.  With his other hand he reached above and touched her clitoris.  When his finger came in contact with the tiny nub that had peeked out from its hood she moaned.  For the next few minutes his hands examined and treated every part of flesh between her legs from the top of her cleft in front to the beginning of her ass cheeks in the rear.  Her anus, her taint, her outer lips, inner lips, the slick wet pink skin from her opening and her pee hole to her clit.  

Then, Marlene took charge.  She scooted back, took hold of his throbbing cock and placed it at her opening.  Almost as if rehearsed and choreographed, she sat down and he lunged up, they were joined.  For a minute neither moved.  Well, that's not entirely accurate because she was doing something internally that was driving Gordon crazy.  She was gently milking him.  She leaned down and began to kiss him again.  Their tongues, his cock and her pussy were dueling.

She broke the kiss and screamed, "fuck me, fuck me harder, ohhhh ummmm oh baby you feel so good."  He didn't know if she was acting or not.  He sure hoped she wasn't.  It seemed unfair that a man couldn't fake it but a woman could.  

But Marlene wasn't faking it.  She liked to save her climaxes for her lover but she didn't fight it. She had a mini-climax with his fingers.  When his cock entered her she came again. 

He didn't last long.  When she felt him stiffen it brought her over the edge with a mind- shattering orgasm. The tip of the condom was soon full of his ejaculate. After resting for a minute or two, when she lifted off him the latex was shining with her juices.   She rolled it off his shrinking penis, got out of bed and walked into the bathroom.  

When she walked back into the room there was a big smile on her face.  She washed his cock with a warm cloth.  Then slipped back in bed, under the covers and snuggled against him.  "That was terrific for me Gordon."

"For me too, Marlene."

"How often do you get to New York?"

"At least once a month."

"Will you call me again?"

"Yes, I will."  Then they drifted into an awkward, silent moment.   He had been physically satisfied but he was torn.  He felt good but at the same time he felt very guilty.  He even felt guilty for feeling good.  

Marlene knew what was going on in his mind.  He needed some space, some privacy.   "I better run," she said as she slipped out of bed.

Within a few minutes she appeared as she had when he opened the door to her an hour earlier.  Her makeup and hair were perfect.  Her conservative suit again covered the beautiful body he had gotten to know.  She was ready for business.  "Don't get up sweetheart, I'll let myself out," she said as she leaned over and kissed him on the cheek.  Then she was gone and he was alone with his thoughts.

After Marlene left his room, he began to compare his wife, the love of his life, the mother of his daughter with a New York call girl.   He knew it was unfair.  But he also knew that the old Barbara could have given Marlene a run for her money.  Barbara too had loved sex and once she was very, very good at it.   Her technique, of course, was limited because her experience was limited to him.  He also realized for the first time that he liked women like Marlene.  He really, really liked women like Marlene.  He knew that he wasn't her first man for the night and probably wouldn't be her last.  He liked her liberated sexuality, he was surprised that he wasn't repulsed by it.  

When he returned to New York three weeks later he called her again.  A pattern developed.  On nearly every trip to the big apple they got together.  On one four day, three night trip they got together twice.   Then, two months ago when he called the number that he had memorized, her recorded voice announced on the answering machine that she would be gone to Europe for a month.  He didn't know what to do he had anticipated being with her and was very disappointed.  He picked up another copy of "New York After Dark" and scanned the ads.  Nothing was interesting to him until he saw listings on one of the pages.  The lists included topless bars, video arcades and other categories of adult interest.  "Swing clubs," was a category that caught his attention.   After reading the list he discovered that they seemed to be in two categories, on-premise and off-premise.  Some seemed to welcome single men and others didn't. The one that he was drawn to was for a place called Le Trapeze.   It was located in the garment district, open every night and boasted a large facility.   It did read "couples only" but he thought it wouldn't hurt to check it out. 

Chapter 4

It was only a ten minute cab ride from his hotel.  A blue neon sign was over the door in the middle of an industrial block.  Just behind the door, in a small vestibule, was a reception window.  The guy saw that he was alone and reminded him, "sorry pal, couples only."

"I read that in the ad.  I'm from Chicago and thought that I would stop by anyway.  I've never been to a club like this before."

"I used to live in Chicago, well in Evanston actually," said the black man wearing a black T-shirt. 

"We live in Glencoe, not too far from Evanston."

The guy on duty seemed to be thinking.  "Tell you what pal, it's kind of slow tonight.  Come on in and take a look around.  It's fifty for an out-of-towner."

Gordon signed a fictitious name, gave the man fifty dollars and was admitted inside.   There was a bar, a small buffet and a lounge area towards the front.  As he walked around he saw a large group room with five or six couples sitting on the floor which was covered with mattress.  Some of the couples were nude, others had green towels wrapped around them.  There was a small swimming pool with three nude women playing in the water.  A large locker room with two rows of benches in the middle reminded him of his high school gym days.  Down a long hall were several rooms, some with the doors closed but others with the doors open.  There was no furniture in the small rooms just a mattress covering the floor. There was a circular staircase leading to a second floor with a sign that read "couples only upstairs."  He estimated that there were a dozen couples on the main floor. Some people were dressed in street clothes, most had the dark green towels wrapped around them and few were dressed in lingerie for the women and boxers or briefs for the men.    He went to the bar, ordered a beer and took it to an area that had a giant screen TV playing a porno.  In his blue suit, white shirt and silk tie he felt, and he was, out of place.  He quickly took off the tie, slipped it in his jacket pocket, unbuttoned his shirt collar and felt a little more at ease.   He hadn't been there long when a man wearing a green towel wrapped around him, who must have been about thirty-five, sat down on the other side of the sectional couch.  He said,  "I'm Ron, haven't seen you here before."

"First time here for me.  I'm Gordon."

"Have you hooked up with anyone yet?" Ron asked.

"Just got here.  You're the first person I've spoken to."

"My wife's in the shower.  Her name's Nancy, should be out here in a minute."

Gordon was having a hard time following what Ron was saying and watching the action on the TV.  This was a strange place.  He had no idea what an on-premises swing club would be like or what its patrons would be like.  This place seemed like a middle class bar with middle class patrons.  He judged that the average age of the couples that he had seen was about forty, some younger, some older.  The women seemed to be better looking than their spouses or companions. 

"We've been coming here for six months," volunteered Ron.  "Usually on a week night.  On weekends it's so crowded you can't walk around.  I've learned that you can never tell how things will go.  Some nights its great, other nights not so great.  


He saw Ron look towards the lockers, stand and smile.  He was joined by a beautiful brunette also wrapped in one of the large, fluffy green towels.  "Gordon, this is my wife Nancy."

"Nice to meet you Nancy."  

There seemed to be a glazed look in her pretty eyes.  Her face seemed flushed.  He wondered if perhaps she had too much to drink.  Then it dawned on him, she was horny.  She looked like Barbara did, the old Barbara, when she needed more than he had been able to give her.  He had seen a similar look in Marlene's eyes once or twice over the past few months when he came too fast for her.  

She sat down next to Ron and as she did the towel slightly parted.  She had tucked an end over her breasts but from her navel south she was bare.  She crossed her legs and smiled at him.  As he checked her out, she was checking him out too.

"Have you seen the club?"  Asked Nancy.

"Just downstairs.  I told Ron that I'm here alone so I haven't been upstairs."

Ron jumped in, "Nancy, why don't you show Gordon the upstairs?"  He turned to Gordon and said, "I think you'll find it very interesting.  Most of the action's up there."

Nancy stood, held out her hand and said, "come on."

He held her hand and expected her to lead him to the stairs but she led him to the locker area instead.  She explained, "street clothes aren't permitted up there.  Towels or underwear.  Also it's a lot safer to leave your valuables in a locked locker."

He expected her to turn away as he chose an upper locker with a key in the door but she didn't. She folded her arms, leaned against the wall and watched him.  He hung up his jacket, sat down on a bench and slipped off his shoes and socks, then placed his shirt and pants on a hanger.  He was standing in the locker room of a swing club wearing only his silk boxers.  He put his thumbs in the waist band of his shorts and skinned them down his legs and stepped out of them.  He wasn't in a hurry to cover his nudity.  If Nancy wanted to look let her.

Nancy did want to look.  She was very attracted to this handsome man.  He obviously took care of himself.  What was between his legs was impressive, not a blue ribbon winner as the biggest she'd ever seen but a nice size, nonetheless.  She tossed him a towel which he wrapped around his waist and then followed her to the circular staircase.  He loved the show before his eyes.  With each stair that she climbed the towel hiked higher until he could see the moons of her ass peeking under it by the time they reached the top.

Ron was right, most of the action was upstairs.  The space was crowded.  The red lights were dim.  They were at the beginning of a long hallway with rooms on each side.  There were no doors on the second floor.  Anyone could look into the rooms.  There must have been twice as many people crowded here as there were downstairs, thought Gordon.  Then, he heard the sounds.  The women were much more vocal than the men.  Ohhhs,  aahhhs, sighs, moans and groans were surrounding him like Dolby Digital.  As she held his hand and walked towards the back they passed several rooms.  He glanced in and saw several couples intertwined in each room.  The hallway was jammed with the voyeurs.  There was an area at the back, like a loft, that overlooked the pool area. She stopped there, didn't say a word but pulled the corner of her towel, that held the makeshift garment together, and let it drop to the floor.  Her breasts were on the small side but nicely shaped.  He saw that she had completely shaved her pubis.   She reached for his towel, pulled it apart and let it drop.  Then she lifted her face to his, parted her lips and closed her eyes.

Gordon couldn't believe this place.  He hadn't been here for half an hour and the prettiest woman that he had seen there was making herself available to him.  He didn't resist but succumbed. Somehow, Nancy had pulled him down to the floor without breaking the kiss.  She was rubbing his cock, pumping blood into it, making it ready for her.  She laid on her back and spread her legs.  He crawled between them.  When he looked over his shoulder he saw that they had attracted a crowd.  There must have been half a dozen people watching them.  Before he met Marlene, he would have shriveled up and reached for his towel.  He didn't shrivel, he didn't cover up, he felt Nancy's hand on his cock drawing it to her wet opening.  Then he was inside her, just the plum shaped head at first, then his entire shaft.  He was certain that she came as he sunk in.  He felt hands rubbing his ass as he fucked Nancy and saw a pretty, naked black woman smiling at him.  She reached between his legs and cradled his scrotum.   Then she did something he couldn't have imagined, she parted his ass cheeks with her hands and kissed his anus.  She moved in unison with them.  Her tongue trying its best to gain entry into his body.  The attention from the two women took him over the edge in record time.  As much as he tried to prolong cumming, he couldn't.  It was like trying to sweep back the tide, it was impossible.   

He didn't stay long at Le Trapeze.  He returned to his hotel drained but having experienced a new dimension to his sex life.  He so wished it were possible to share the excitement with the true love of his life, Barbara, but it would take a miracle for that to happen and he didn't believe in miracles.   Chapter 5

He parked the Mercedes in the garage next to Barbara's black Suburban.  The house was quiet. Meg and Troy must be out on the town he thought.  "Honey, I'm home," he called out.  There was no answer.

He opened the door to their room, saw that it was in darkness and reached for the light switch.  Before he could flip the switch he heard the quiet voice say, "please don't turn on the light."

He dropped his briefcase and rushed to the bed.  "What's wrong, darling?"

"Just hold me for a minute Gordy, please just hold me." 

He sat on the edge of their bed and held her.  She nestled her head in the crook of his shoulder.  She thought she had no more tears left to shed but she was wrong.   The wracking sobs began again.  

"My God, Babs, what happened, tell me what's wrong."

She couldn't speak for a minute or two.  She knew that it wasn't just the words that had been spoken by Meg's new beau.  It had been building for years.   She was angry with herself for letting things go this far, for letting them get out of control.  She sniffled and then answered his question.  "I'm just feeling really down, that's all."

"Bullshit!  Did Meg say something?  Did you have a fight?"

"No, we didn't have a fight but . . . Meg did say something."  Then slowly, everything spilled out, not just what had been said in the study but what she had been feeling for years.  The release of her pent up emotions was heartbreaking for both of them.  

"I know there are all those gorgeous young women at the firm.  I see the way women look at you Gordy, I can't compete with them anymore," she said dejectedly. 

"You don't have to compete with anyone, honey."

"That's what you say now, but look at your partners.  Half of them have already shed their first wives.  The women they dumped looked like me.  Those who haven't divorced their wives are married to women who have more self control, apparently, than I have.  They may be a few years older but I know them Gordy, they're still beautiful and I'm not anymore."

What she said made him feel like a jerk.  He had betrayed her but she didn't know it.  She must never know about Marlene or Le Trapeze, he thought.  "We can work this out.  Babs, I'm so sorry that I wasn't able to help you sooner . . . that you weren't able to talk about your feelings with me.   Maybe it was Michelangelo, or some other sculptor, who said, ‘I see my finished statue in the rough block of marble, all I have to do is chip away the unneeded pieces.'  Well, I can see my beautiful Barbara still inside you.  Together, we'll do whatever it takes to bring you back out.  Plastic surgery, lipo-suction, spas, Botox, a personal training program, diet gurus you name it"  He held her tightly then said, "I don't care how much it costs or how long it takes.  If that's what you really want we'll do it.  If it isn't what you want, I'll love you no matter what."  

"Oh Gordy it is what I want but I'm not sure I'm strong enough to stick with an ambitious program like that.  I used to be strong enough, but I don't know that I am now.  I can just see myself getting discouraged and binging on food or coming up with a million excuses why I don't feel like jogging or even walking.  I've got to have some compelling, motivating force." 

Gordon thought about what she had said.  It was true that she had lost herself in her garden and private world.  They seldom attended parties and because of that the invitations stopped arriving in their mail box long ago.  She didn't really have any close friends.  Many of their neighbors were in the same boat she was in.  After children, they ballooned and retreated into a world of their own.  Not a very exciting world, just a comfortable, familiar one. "You need to talk to somebody, Babs.  Somebody who's gone through something like this herself."  Then it hit him like a ton of bricks.  He couldn't believe what he was about to suggest. "You need to call Susan." 

"Susan!  I can't believe you want me to talk with her."  But she could believe it because Susan was the only woman that they both knew that had been in the world she was trapped in who had escaped.  She hadn't talked with her for two years.  Last year, they didn't even exchange Christmas cards.  How things had changed.

Susan was her best friend in high school.  They smoked their first cigarette behind Susan's house. They compared bra sizes. They double dated at the prom.  They were inseparable.  They roomed together at state their freshman and sophomore years.  Susan was her maid of honor.  A year later she was Susan's maid of honor.  But Susan's married life was very different than Barbara's.  Well, maybe not so different after all.




From Barbara to Barbie



Susan was a beautiful bride.  But a dozen years later, after three children, life had taken a toll.  She gained weight.  She too let herself go.  Sex, that had been so important to her, lost its importance. Susan wasn't married to an understanding husband.  Her husband demanded that she lose the weight or she would lose him.  The pounds didn't go away but he did.  She was divorced with three small children to raise.  The alimony and child support helped but they weren't enough.  She needed to go to work, both to earn money and to get out of the house.  She found a job at a small company that gave her a chance to reenter the work place.  She started with filing and helping out in a small office where she became more conscious of her weight, her clothes and her appearance.  She began to see herself through the eyes of her co- workers and she didn't like what they saw.  

The office staff was pretty much a party crowd.  While she couldn't join them for drinks because she had to rush home to the kids, sometimes she wished that she could.  She vowed to get back in shape and drop the weight but that proved to be harder than she thought it would be.

She watched what she ate.  She walked to work everyday when the weather permitted.  In three months she had lost nearly thirty pounds then she reached a plateau. She would never again have worn a size six if she hadn't started dating Steve.  Steve saw the potential in her. After their third date he asked her come up to his apartment.  No sooner had the door closed behind them than he took her in his arms and kissed her.  She longed for the affection.  It had been a long time since her divorce and Steve was the first man to hold her and make her feel like a woman again.  When he cupped her breast she grabbed his wrist and said, "stop."

"What the fuck do you mean stop?  Let's get something straight right now Susan.  I like you a lot.  Girls that I like a lot I fuck a lot.  If that's not okay with you say the word and I'll have you back at your place in a flash."

"You just don't understand Steve.  It's been a long time for me and . . . and . . . well, I don't want you to see my flabby body."

"Baby, I've noticed that you've lost some weight.  There's still some to go but I know that within a few months you'll look great again."  He kissed her, looked into her eyes and said, "I want you to do it for me.  Get skinny for me Susan.  Make me and every man who sees you want to stick his dick in your snatch."

Susan told Barbara that he did make love to her that night.  Though he was crude he became her inspiration.  She wanted him to touch firm hard smooth flesh not lumpy, mushy flesh.  The last time that Barbara had visited Susan, she was indeed a size six.  She admitted that she fucked Steve and other men. She was pretty, maybe prettier than she had ever been.  She was also very promiscuous.  She and Steve didn't love each other but they needed each other in the most basic way.  He was free to be with other women, she was free to be with whomever she wanted to be with. .

Barbara told Gordon everything Susan had revealed--she never could keep a secret from him.  When she told him about Susan's new life he called Susan a slut, a whore, a tramp a pin cushion. He told Barbara that he didn't want her to see Susan anymore.  She was a bad influence.  And so they drifted apart.  

"Call her."  It wasn't a suggestion.  He knew that Susan fucked anything in pants.  He knew that she was like Marlene, in some ways, and even like Nancy from Le Trapeze.  He also knew that she had successfully completed the arduous round trip from being a swan to becoming an ugly duckling and back to being a swan again.

The next day Barbara did call Susan.  They talked for more than an hour.  Susan suggested that she start out, like she had, and get down to a manageable weight level before she even considered plastic surgery.  She thought that a trip to the beauty salon the next day might do wonders.  But it wasn't until she got to the end of the conversation that she confirmed her own method of taking off the last, the most important pounds, and how to keep them off.  "Barb, if you get yourself a boyfriend, the pounds will just melt away, I promise.  You'd be thinking of him seeing you naked for the first time.  Believe me, there's nothing like a new man, a different man.  You'd envision a flat tummy, a tight tush, tiny wasp-like waist.  I know it's the only thing that really worked for me, trust me.  If I hadn't started dating Steve, today I would weigh more than I ever did before.  He kept my juices flowing and that helped me keep my resolve."

That night she shared the details of her conversation with Susan with her husband.  When she got to the boyfriend part he smiled and said, "she's probably right."

"What're you saying?  I thought you'd be pissed."  Then she thought for a minute.  "Gordon, you're trim.  You're in better shape today than when I met you.  Do you have a girlfriend?"

"Of course not.  All I meant was that if having an affair would help you, then I won't stand in your way or ever throw it up to you."

Chapter 6

The next day was a new beginning for Barbara.  She threw away her stash of candy.  She emptied the cupboards of cake mixes and the freezer of ice cream.  She walked a mile but it wasn't easy. That night she was famished from cutting her intake of food by two-thirds.  When she stood on the scale at the end of the first week of her new routine, she was pleased to see that she weighed seven pounds less than the week before.

Every day she called Susan and reported on her progress.  Susan reported to Barbara on her own progress in trying to fuck every man on the planet.  She never ended a conversation without reminding Barbara that the best motivation was picturing herself undressing in front of a new lover. 

After three months, unbelievably, she had lost more than thirty-five pounds.  When she looked down she saw her feet for the first time in years, not her tummy.  She now had a standing weekly appointment at the beauty salon.  Every week was the full treatment, hair, nails and makeup.  It was costing Gordon a small fortune but that's what he wanted.  They had urged her to go blonde, well dark blonde.  Her hairdo now resembled Diane Sawyer's, only a shade or two darker.  It just touched her shoulders.  It was loose, carefree and sexy.  It was lustrous, shiny and healthy.

She went back to contact lenses and found the new ones more comfortable than when she used to wear them. Her dentist had whitened her teeth three shades and had, almost instantly, eliminated the effects of decades of coffee, red wine and soda drinking.

She hadn't changed her wardrobe.  She had promised herself that there would be no intermediate sizes purchased.  Until she could fit into a size eight again, what she already had in her closet would just have to do.  She was now walking two miles twice each day and swimming several times a week.  She thought that maybe it was time to kick her program into high gear.  

That night she and Gordon talked about two weeks at a spa for her.  His partner's trophy wives were spa goers.  After checking out several places, he made arrangements for her to spend two weeks at La Costa in California.  She flew into San Diego and was met at the airport.  The women in the spa program had ground floor rooms around the pool.   The regimen was intended for one purpose only, to make the person the very best that they could be in two short weeks.  Up early, 800 calorie diets and personal exercise programs that tested each guest's limits.  A break everyday for a massage, a visit to the beauty salon and a half hour naked in a tanning bed was the pampering that kept them going.  Her walking had evolved into jogging.  The distance had increased from two miles twice a day to three and a half miles twice a day.  By the end of the first week she had firmed up and lost another ten pounds.

She didn't know that Gordon had planned a surprise for her.  The first day of her second week, a new person had joined the group.  It was Susan.  Gordon had paid for the week at the spa, her transportation and arranged for someone to take care of her kids.  It must have cost him a small fortune. 

One night they were in Barbara's room reminiscing when out of the blue Susan asked, "Barb, do you remember the first time you went all the way with Gordon?"

"I'll never forget it, of course I do.  Why do you ask?"

"What was so special about that night?"

Barbara thought this must be some kind of a trick question.  "Well, giving myself completely to someone that I love."

"That's pure horseshit!  Let me tell you what made it so special.  It was something you hadn't done before.  It was something that was new, different.  You had been raised, like me, to think that it's wrong to screw before your marriage, so fucking Gordon before your wedding day was also forbidden.  All of that made the first time with him incredibly exciting."  She paused then continued.  "Guess what my friend?  I get to do that, to recapture those very same feelings once or twice a week."


"Let's face it Susan, you're a shameless slut."

Susan laughed, but didn't disagree.  "You got me Barb.  Seriously, there isn't anything else like wondering what your date will look like when he gets naked.  How big will his cock be?  Will he be a good lover?  Will he be anxious to eat at the Y club or will he be a priss?"  Will he cum in two seconds like a rabbit or will he have you begging him to stop after an hour?  What will he taste like?"

"I don't see it like that.  For some of us, Susan, one first time is enough for a lifetime."

Susan shook her head in disagreement.  "No my friend, variety is the spice of life.  Big men, little men.  Tall men, short men,  White men, black men, yellow men, brown men.  Circumcised, un-circumcised.  No Barb you just can't get it all in a single package."  She let this sink in before she went on.  "Once is not enough.  And, guess what, the same thing applies to men.  Don't kid yourself, they think the same way.  Even Gordon, he's a man, he must wonder about a woman he finds attractive, what will she look like naked?  Will she be a good lover?  What will her boobs look like?   Will she swallow?  Will she just lay there like a princess or will she fuck like a mink?"

"Believe me Susan, Gordon's enough for me or any woman.  I guess I'm just a one man woman."

"Oh, I'll admit that Gordon's a hunk, I wouldn't mind having a go at him myself."

"Gordon's not like that.  He doesn't play around."

"My God, Barb, he's a man and you're a woman.  You're no different than any of us.  You've been married forever.  I seriously doubt that the thrill of being with him the first time is still there every time.  In fact, I know it's not.  Think about it, if you were with a new man, when you got behind a closed door you'd be thrilled and excited beyond words, as you exposed your body slowly, inch by inch and watched his reaction.  As his throbbing cock juts out from his body because he wants to plant it in what is being revealed to his eyes."

"Susan I think that there's something even more special about a relationship as it matures and you feel comfortable with your mate."

"Boring, boring!  I think that's crap.  You must have been reading a book or something.  In the real world, there's not much good about routine, if you ask me.  What about anticipation?  The anticipation of spreading your legs and welcoming a strange cock inside you.  There's nothing like that first time.  Unfortunately, you can only have one first time per man.  Seconds and thirds and so on are great, but there's only one first time."

"Look, let's agree to disagree, okay?" Said Barbara.

"You don't have to agree with me.  I just think you're missing something.  I know that no man is enough for a sexually healthy woman.  Think about it, we're built different.  I doubt that you can look me in the eye and tell me that when Gordon's done for the night you're completely satisfied.  I'll just bet that there are times, maybe not in the last few years after you gained all that weight and let yourself go, but before, when you longed for more, much more, more than any one man is capable of giving a woman."

"Let me get this straight.  Are you saying that not only do you sleep with different men, but sometimes you're with more than one at a time?" Asked Barbara.

"You got it.  The very best times are when Steve brings home a friend or two.  There's plenty for everybody.  Always a hard fresh cock.  And Barbara, don't knock it until you've tried it."

"I'm not knocking it or condemning your lifestyle, Susan.  I'm happy that you're happy.  For me, I'm sure that now that I've lost most the weight and I feel a lot better about myself, things will be better between Gordon and me.  I don't want other men, I don't need other men and Gordon wouldn't want me to have other men."  She couldn't help but remember Gordon's willingness for her to have an affair if she thought that would help and wondered what he was thinking.

By the end of her stay at La Costa she weighed in at 135 pounds.  The beauty salon had improved upon the color and style of her hair.  Her body was tan, her complexion improved.  Body wraps and exfoliation treatments had helped to make her, once again, nearly a fox.  She looked far better than she had in several years but she wasn't the total fox that Troy had seen in the photo on the piano.

The lines around her eyes, the puffy pads beneath her eyes, the varicose veins on the backs of her legs and the loose skin on her stomach wouldn't disappear with exercise or diet.  The attention of a skilled surgeon was required.   The director of the spa had recommended a surgeon in Beverly Hills and had called to make an introduction.  Gordon encouraged her to get it done.

At the airport in San Diego, Susan and Barbara hugged each other and parted.  Susan flew home and Barbara took the short flight to Los Angeles.  She had been booked into a small exclusive Beverly Hills hotel whose clients had one thing in common, they were all plastic surgery patients.  The surgery only took less than three hours, the painful and unpleasant recovery at the hotel would take another week.  When Barbara awakened after her surgery she was in her hotel room. She felt like she had been hit by a truck.  Every inch of her body ached.  Her face, abdomen and legs were covered by thick bandages.  She had the face lift, her eyes done, a tummy tuck, and varicose vein removal that she had planned on but Dr. Shalman had urged her to also have lipo- suction as well. He told her that he would remove five to ten pounds of fat and be able to shape her hips, thighs and buttocks and return them to how they had been ten years earlier.  He seemed to know what he was doing and had impeccable credentials--she had seen many of his patients on the big movie screen and on the covers of fashion magazines--so she agreed to the full treatment.  That first long uncomfortable night she wondered if she had made the right decision.

Two days later she was sure she had made the wrong decision.  When the bandages were removed she looked like she had been in a fight with Mike Tyson and lost.  Her face was swollen and covered with greenish, ghastly bruises.  But, as the good doctor had assured her, the face healed better and more quickly than any part of the body.  By the time she was ready to check out of the specialty hotel, the bruises were nearly gone.  Most of the micro sutures had been removed, others would dissolve.  With heavy makeup, the fine red scars and the fading bruises were almost invisible.  Her tummy and abdomen were healing too.  He encouraged her to be careful and return to her exercise program slowly.  No sit-ups, ab crunches or vigorous jogging for another week.

It had been nearly four months since she had sobbed on Gordon's shoulder and they had agreed to do whatever was necessary to bring back the old Barbara. She now weighed 126 pounds.  Men noticed her and smiled at her hoping for a smile in return.  On Rodeo Drive, she splurged.  She found that a size eight fit her perfectly so she filled a new suitcase with purchases.   

Gordon was waiting for her at O'hare when she cleared the secure gate area.  "My God, Babs, let me look at you.  You're beautiful."  He didn't see the tears of happiness that spilled over her eye lids because her eyes were covered by big dark sunglasses as they would be for a few more days until the last of the swelling and discoloration completely disappeared.

Chapter 7

That night he had arranged for a candle-lit dinner in their dinning room.  He had ordered from her favorite restaurant and heated up the hot dishes by carefully following the micro wave instructions the chef had written.  Bouquets of roses were in the living room, the dining room and their bedroom.  After the delicious meal they walked hand-in-hand to the bedroom.  Barbara had vowed to never wear a nightgown or pajamas to bed again.  She went in the closet to get ready for bed.  As Gordon slipped naked under the covers and waited for her, he couldn't help but think of the first time in New York as he anxiously awaited for Marlene to step out of the bathroom.  

When Barbara walked into the room, she stopped and posed for her husband.  He had been so supportive.  He had encouraged her, paid for the visit to the spa and Susan's stay as well.  He had paid for the plastic surgery.  It was time for him to see just what he had purchased.  She turned and put her hand on her hip.  He was surprised to see that she wasn't completely nude because she was wearing high heels.  He couldn't remember a time when she had come to bed like that.  If he had been able to hear the late night discussions at La Costa between Barbara and Susan he would have known where the idea came from.  There were other suggestions that Susan had made that would soon become apparent.  If anything, Barbara was more beautiful than Marlene, he realized.  He knew that she was older than Marlene but tonight she sure didn't look it.  She was a little taller, a little sexier a little hotter.

"Baby, you look so sexy.  I need you so much, look at me."  He threw back the covers barring his body and his rock hard cock.

"Is all of that for me?"  She teased.

"Only for you."  Then a wave of guilt came over him because it--his cock-- hadn't been exclusively hers, at least it hadn't been lately.  While she was in California he had been with Marlene in New York and an Hispanic woman whose name he didn't even know at Le Trapeze.  He knew that he wasn't any better than his partners.  His recriminations were quickly replaced by other feelings as she sat down on the edge of the bed.

They kissed.  While their lips and tongues were engaged, their hands explored each other as if for the first time.  His fingers touched her breasts, breasts that hadn't needed the attention of a surgeon's scalpel.  Natural full, perfect.  Breasts that loved to be fondled and kissed.  Breasts that were capped by nipples that seemed larger and harder than ever before.  His fingers could feel the ribs beneath her skin.  It had been years since he was able to feel the cage of her torso.  She certainly wasn't skinny but there wasn't an unneeded ounce of fat on her upper body.  Her tummy was again the tummy that he remembered the first time they had fucked in this bedroom.  She winced when he rubbed her abdomen too hard and he realized that it must still be tender.  He reminded himself that he would have to be more careful. 

Barbara loved to feel his hard cock.  As she gripped it in her hand and stroked it she wondered if she would do what Susan said she should do?  Could she actually take it in her mouth and work it until he spewed and then swallow every drop of his cum?  She loved to suck him but she had never swallowed or even let him cum in her mouth.  Maybe tonight, she thought.