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From: "jack" <jack2298@charter.net>
Subject: {ASSM} bobfr's Two Different Worlds by shooter
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Date: Sun, 18 Sep 2005 20:10:04 -0400
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   bobfr's Two Different Worlds

   by shooter3704 (C)

   (From the title you may have the idea that bobfr had something to do
with this yarn.  You would be absolutely correct.  He started it and was
kind and gracious enough to let me attempt to finish it.  We both hope you
enjoy it.  Shooter)

   Chapter 1

   Beth Adams pressed the up-button with her manicured index finger and
waited nervously for the elevator.  She was jittery because this was the
first time since getting pregnant, many years before, that she would be
interviewed for a job.  Norm, her husband of more than twenty years, had
been urging her to find work outside the home.  She knew that he thought it
would be a good idea, not only because they could use the money to
supplement his income as a vice-principal at a suburban middle school.  But
also because he believed that it would be good for her and their marriage.

   Now that their son had joined the Marine Corps, and was at boot camp in
San Diego, there wasn't any reason for her not to check out what might be
available, her husband had reasoned.

   That morning, after Norm had left for work, she opened the classified
pages of the Denver Post and turned to the "help wanted" section.  As she
sipped from her steaming cup of coffee, she quickly scanned the ads
searching for those for which she might be qualified.  After reading for a
few minutes, she was getting very discouraged because most employers
required a college degree and years of experience.  She possessed neither
of those requirements.  Then, just when she was about to give up, she saw
an ad

   that read:


Wanted: Receptionist/Assistant to an attorney.  No experience

   required, will train.

   Call 303-555-3456 for an interview.





   Her call was answered on the second ring.  Within two minutes she was
told to come in as soon as possible because he, the lawyer who answered the
phone himself, desperately needed help and intended to hire someone before
the day ended.

   As the elevator doors opened, Beth couldn't help feeling a little
disappointed.  The law office was not located in one of the gleaming
skyscrapers near the courts, as she thought it would be, but a few blocks
behind them in a building that they must have constructed in the 1930's.

   On the third floor, she walked down the long, dimly-illuminated, dank
hall.  As she passed several frosted glass doors with black lettering, she
noticed that they were a collection agency, a bail bond company, an "ABC
this" and an "Acme that." Finally, she stood in front of suite 325.  The
same old-fashioned script lettering she saw on the other office doors
spelled "Law Office."

   Beth took a deep breath, hoping that she looked presentable as she
remembered how hard it had been to decide, in haste, what to wear for her
interview.  Finally, she had chosen her best pair of black slacks, a grey,
long-sleeve, loose-fitting blouse, dark pantyhose and flat black shoes.

   Before she left the house she stood in front of the full-length mirror
in her closet and took inventory of the reflected image.  Five feet, seven
inches, one hundred thirty-one pounds.  It wouldn't hurt to lose five or
ten pounds she had to admit.  Shoulder-length, lustrous brown hair,
sparkling blue eyes in a pretty face that looked younger than her forty
years.  What she had chosen to wear was both tasteful and conservative, she
told herself as she knocked on the door.

   "It's open, come on in," shouted a deep male voice from behind the door.

   In the small reception room a man, who must have been approaching
seventy, was talking with a very pretty woman that Beth thought must be in
her late twenties or early thirties.

   "Thanks for coming in," the man said politely to the woman who was
leaving.  "If you change your mind and would like to be considered for the
job, call me and let me know," he said as he escorted her to the door.

   "I won't change my mind.  I'm not interested," said the woman over her
shoulder as she left the office.

   He closed the door behind her, shrugged his shoulders, turned to Beth,
smiled reached out his hand and said, "I'm Jasper Washington, Jasper
Washington the third.  Friends call me Trip because of the Roman numeral
III after my last name."

   She took his large, gnarled hand in hers, smiled back at him and said,
"Beth Adams."

   "Come on back to my office, Mrs.  Adams," he said confidently after
noticing the gold wedding band on the third finger of her left hand.

   As she followed him, she observed that his shoulders were stooped and he
walked with a slight limp.  Two walls of the small, cluttered office they
entered were covered, floor to ceiling, with book shelves crammed with law
books.  Bankers' boxes were stacked in every corner and even on a cushion
on a black leather sofa.  His big, outdated desk was nearly buried with
file folders.

   "Sit down, sit down.  Make yourself comfortable," Trip said, indicating
a chair in front of his desk as he settled into the large, black leather
chair behind it.  "Can I get you something to drink?  A soda pop, coffee,
water?"

   "No thanks, I'm fine," Beth said trying to remember the last time she
had heard soft drinks referred to as 'soda pop.'

   "Do you have a resume?" he asked.

   She reached in her purse and extracted the folded two-page document that
Norm had helped her prepare and handed it to him.

   "Give me a sec." He had a pair of reading glasses, propped low on his
broad nose, that he pushed back into place and began reading.

   While he read, Beth folded her hands in her lap and sat forward in the
chair.  She thought that he was, well he was rumpled, almost slovenly.  His
stripped shirt was open at the neck, his out- of-style, wide tie loosened.
The sleeves of his shirt were rolled up and its pocket was crammed with
pens and pencils.  Wide suspenders held up his trousers.  His

   nappy grey hair was badly in need of a trim, she thought.  What was most
striking and surprising about him, however, was that his skin was the shade
of dark mahogany.

   Looking at her over his glasses he said, "I see it's been a long time
since you've worked.  What brings you back to the job market, Mrs.  Adams?"

   "My son just joined the Marines.  Both my husband and I thought it would
be a good idea for me to find a job."

   He leaned back in his chair and asked, "why?"

   "Well, we can use the money.  He, my husband that is, is a
vice-principal at a middle school in Aurora, that's where we live."

   "Is that the only reason?" The older man wanted to know.

   "Norm has wanted me to work for several years.  I thought that being
home with our son was important.  Now that he's gone, I know that my
husband thinks I need to get out into the real world as he calls it."

   Before she could continue, Trip chuckled and said, "well this is the
real world, that I can guarantee.  Let me tell you a little about the
office." He crossed his legs before continuing.  "I've been practicing law
for forty years, more than thirty from this office.  The first ten years of
my career I was on the other side.  I was a prosecutor, the first black in
this jurisdiction, I might add," he said proudly.  "When I first moved in
here, this was one of the best buildings in town.  Anyway, I'm a one-man
show.  I've always had someone handle the phones, the filing and helping
with documents and such.  The last woman who worked for me, Jan, was here
for four years.  She had to leave abruptly to be with her mother in
California who has some dreadful illness.  She won't be coming back," he
said almost wistfully.  "Anyway, I need someone immediately."

   "I can answer phones and do the filing, but I haven't typed in years."

   "That's not a problem.  How are you with the computer?"

   "Fair.  We have a computer at home, I guess everyone does these days. 
I'm okay with e-mail, but legal documents, that's another matter.  I'm not
sure."

   "Is it okay if I call you by your first name, Beth?"

   "Of course, Mr.  Washington."

   "Good, that's good.  Call me Trip.  Well, let me tell you what I do. 
I'm a criminal defense attorney.  That is all I do.  Most of our cases are
plea-bargained or settled.  Very few go to trial." He sipped from a glass
of water on his desk and continued.  "As you can imagine, our clients can
be very rough.  Hell, no sense beating around the bush, most are the dregs
of society: thieves, pimps, prostitutes, drug users and small-time dealers,
con artists, smut distributors, parole violators and an owner of an adult
theater/book store.  You name it, we defend it, except murder in the first,
and most crimes of violence." He paused, touched his chin and said, "Beth,
you look so innocent, I don't know if you could deal with my clientele." He
was silent for a moment then continued, "we obviously live in two very
different worlds."

   Beth knew that he was issuing her a challenge, one she quickly accepted.
"I would be lying to you if I told you that I had been around people like
your clients because I haven't.  However, I'm adaptable and not judgmental.
Just because we live in the suburbs doesn't mean that I've lived a
sheltered life," she said boldly, though she knew that her life had,

   indeed, been very sheltered.

   "By the way you're dressed, I . . .  ummm, I thought, that you might be
uncomfortable around some of my clients.  Also, you would have to wear
skirts, dresses and high heels.  Would that be a problem?"

   "No.  I have skirts and dresses.  What I'm wearing, I assumed, would be
appropriate for the interview.  If I'm hired, I'll wear whatever you
require."

   She's some looker, Trip thought to himself.  He had a special feeling
about this woman from the suburbs, this Beth Adams.  She was someone that
he wanted to get to know better, so he said, "I'll tell you what I'll do.
Let's give it a try for, oh . . .  say one month.  Because you don't have
experience, I'll start you at $300 a week and give you raises as you're
able to contribute more.  How does that sound?"

   "That sounds close to minimum wage to me," Beth said.

   "That would only be $7.50 an hour for a forty-hour week," Trip said. 
"However, if you're here by 9:00 you can leave by 4:00 p.m.  that's only
six hours a day, allowing an hour for lunch." He made a calculation on a
legal pad then smiled and said, "that's $10.00 an hour, and remember,
that's just to start."

   "I'll have to talk it over with my husband tonight."

   "Oh, I misunderstood.  I thought it was his idea for you to go to work."

   "It was . . .  , " she didn't want him to think that she was here only
to do her husband's bidding, " it was our idea."

   "Look Beth, let's be straight with each other.  I know this isn't the
greatest office in the world.  I know I'm a black old geezer, not some
handsome, young, rich, white lawyer who is a partner in a big firm.  I know
that many people who come through that door you'll find to be repulsive."
He paused, uncrossed his legs, leaned forward and put his arms

   on his desk and said, "but, on the other hand, I also know that you
don't have a degree, any marketable skills or experience.  I promise you
that working here is a lot better than flipping hamburgers at McDonald's. I
can teach you a lot about the law and life . . .  the real world, as your
husband said.  Both this old office and I are getting long-in-the-tooth."

   He flashed her a smile and said, "you would help dress up the place,
bring us some class.  I need you, and I think you need this job.  What do
you say?"

   "I'll have to think it over.  Can I call you tomorrow and let you know?"

   "Let's not beat around the bush, Beth.  Are you reluctant to accept my
offer of employment because I'm black?"

   He had hit the nail squarely on the head.  Beth wasn't a racist, but she
was very surprised that the lawyer was black.  "It's not that at all.  It
makes absolutely no difference to me what race you are . . .  I mean black,
white, brown, yellow, red . . .  I think we're all the same, we're people."

   The old lawyer smiled and said, "Beth, I'm so happy to hear you say
that. If race isn't the issue, and the hours and pay are acceptable, and I
need you, and you, for several reasons, need this job, then why miss this
opportunity?  Like I told you before, I'm going to fill this job today. 
What do you say?"

   Beth didn't have to think for long.  She was flattered that the very
first interview had resulted in a job offer.  She knew that Trip was right,
she doubted that she could do any better than the offer.  "Okay, subject to
Norm agreeing."

   "That's fine . . .  hell that's great!  Welcome aboard, Beth.  Let me
show you around."

   There really wasn't much to show her.  Off the reception room, which
would double as her office, were three doors.  One led to Trip's office,
one to a small conference room whose walls were also lined with law books
and the third door led to a combination work/file room.  Restrooms were
found outside the office and down the hall.  Just as Trip had finished
showing her around, the phone rang.

   "Aren't you going to answer it?" he asked.  "Just answer, Law Office."

   Beth pushed the button next to the flashing red light, lifted the
handset and said, "law office."

   The female voice on the other end said, "I'm calling about the job that
you advertised in the Post."

   Beth covered the mouthpiece with her hand and said to Trip, "it's
someone calling about the job."

   "Well hell, Beth, you got the job." He smiled broadly and said, "just
tell her it's been filled."

   Chapter 2

   As Beth drove toward home, she was ecstatic at being hired . . .  at
being accepted.  Not to have been hired would have been a rejection.  She
wasn't any different from anyone else.  Acceptance felt great, rejection
sucked, as today's generation of teens would say.  She also knew that Norm
would be enthusiastic about the job.  He had told her often that having to

   get up and ready for work would make her much more conscious of her
appearance.  She would watch her weight more carefully, not that weight had
become a problem yet, but she knew that it could become one.  Moreover, she
would be more discerning about what she wore.  No more sweat suits. 
Grooming, make-up, her hair, all would be more important to her as a
working woman than as someone who didn't have obligations outside the home.
She had to admit that she could clean the house in an hour and that she
spent far too much time watching soap operas, Oprah, and other daytime
drivel.

   For Norm though, he thought that a job outside the home would make her
sexier, more sexual, much more interesting.  Interesting to him and to
maybe others.  There was no getting around it.  Like most couples married
for two decades, the temperature between the sheets of their king-size bed
had been lowered a degree or more with each of the last several passing
years.  They were in a sexual rut.  Nothing seemed exciting anymore for
either of them.  Life had become predictable.  There were seldom surprises.
Maybe Norm was right, she thought.  Maybe working will add a spark to our
lives.

   When he opened the door that afternoon, she rushed into his arms,
planted a big kiss on his lips and said, "I got a job today, honey.  I
start tomorrow," she said proudly.

   "Really?  Tell me all about it," he said as he took off his sport coat
and tossed it on an upholstered chair in the living room.

   "It's in a law office in downtown Denver.  Just a small, one-man office.
The lawyer is an older man named Trip Washington."

   Norm took her in his arms held her up, and spun her around as she held
on tight and laughed.  "We'll go out and celebrate," he said excitedly.

   Norm wore his Sunday blue suit.  Beth wore a black, above-the-knee,
strapless evening dress that had been hanging in the back of her closet for
three years.  She had worn it only once, to the school district dance that
was a command performance.  He thought she looked beautiful and sexy then,
and just as attractive and desirable now.  Her long, left leg was exposed
halfway up her thigh by the slit in the side of the frock.  No question

   she was overdressed for dinner, but neither of them cared what anyone
else thought.

   They splurged.  It wasn't often, only for very special occasions, when
they went out to a nice restaurant that charged as much for one meal as
their grocery budget was for more than a week.  Beth could count on the
fingers of one hand the number of times that they had purchased a bottle of
champagne to celebrate something.  They had consumed half the contents of
the green bottle when Norm said, "so honey, tell me everything about the

   job."

   "I don't know very much about it yet.  Let's see.  Oh yes, he only does
criminal work.  I got the idea that his cases aren't the high profile cases
that we read about in the newspapers, and see on the ten o'clock news.  He
described his clients to me as 'the dregs of society.' They're thieves,
pimps, prostitutes, drug users and small-time dealers, con artists, smut
dealers, parole violators and DUI's, cases like that," she explained.

   Wow!  Thought Norm.  He wanted her to get out in the world and this
seemed to be more than he could have hoped for.  "And you're okay with
that? I mean, are you okay with the type of cases he handles?" he asked as
he took her hand and leaned closer to her.

   "Mr.  Washington . . .  he told me to call him Trip, asked me the same
thing.  I don't think it will be a problem.  Do you?" she asked with
concern.

   "You said he's had other women working for him, and the last one worked
there for four years.  I guess it won't be a problem."

   "By the way I was dressed for the interview he thought I might not be
comfortable working there.  He also told me that I couldn't wear slacks and
would have to wear high heels.  Sort of an office dress code I guess."

   What she told him couldn't have pleased Norm more.  He thought Beth
needed to fly from the comfort and safety of her familiar nest and
experience what the real world was like.  He imagined Trip's clientele, and
even Trip himself, being treated to glimpses of his gorgeous wife;
especially, wearing dresses and skirts.  She sure had the figure for that
attire, though she hadn't been willing to let anyone but him know it,
except on very rare

   occasions like tonight.  Urging her to get a job might just have done
the trick, he hoped.  He wondered if working in the law office of Trip
Washington would help her to lose some of her inhibitions and become the
hot wife he believed she had the potential of becoming.

   "Oh baby," Norm said, "I think that's terrific.  You'll look great.  You
know that I've always thought that it was a shame to cover up your fabulous
legs."

   Beth knew that was true.  Norm had begged her to wear short skirts and
to skip pantyhose for years.  "Better be careful what you wish for fella,"
she warned.  "Remember the kinds of people that will be looking at them."
She sipped from her champagne glass, giggled then said, "though it's not
likely that they will find an old married gal like me very interesting."

   "That's where you're as wrong as wrong can be," said Norm seriously. 
"You really don't know how beautiful you are, do you?" Before she could
answer he said, "I have to tell you honey, it really makes me hot to think
of you being ogled and lusted after."

   This was not the first time that he had said something like that. 
However, this was the first time that there was a potential for it to
happen in a new environment.

   Beth hesitated for a second, looked down at her plate then said quietly,
"there's one other thing you should know . . ."

   "What's that?"

   "Trip, he . . .  he's well he's black."

   This revelation made her new job even better to Norm.  Not only would
the old lawyer's clients be ogling his beautiful wife but the old black man
himself would be spending more time with her than any other man.  "Is that
a problem for you?" Norm asked.

   "Well no, not really.  I just thought that when you consider: the part
of the city where the office is located, the type of clients that he serves
and the fact that he's black, collectively, might cause you to think that
this isn't the right job for me."

   He held both of his wife's hands and said, "on the contrary love, it
sounds like the perfect job for you."

   When they returned home, the temperature between the sheets of their bed
had already been turned up a notch.  That night they slipped under the
covers naked.  Usually she wore panties and a T-shirt, and he wore his
boxers to bed.  Several years of predictable behavior seemed to have been
erased.  Excitement, that had been missing from their lovemaking for many
years, was in bed with them.  A sense of adventure that had been lacking
was present as they kissed, touched and eventually became one.  Maybe Norm
had been right, Beth thought as his thick, hard cock entered her for what
must have been the thousandth time.  After-all, she had only gone out and
applied for a job, and yet both seemed hotter than they had been in years.

   After each of them climaxed and while sheens of sweat still covered
their bodies, they lay on their sides pressed as tightly together as
possible, as they always did.  Norm spooned her from behind.  His flaccid,
still-wet penis wedged between the cheeks of her ass, his right arm
embraced her breasts, his face nestled in her hair and his lips were only
an inch from her small ear.  Then, he began to talk softly as she knew he
would.

   "Baby, that was fucking fantastic.  You're the absolute best fuck
imaginable."

   "How would you know, oh mighty cocksman?" Beth knew that he had only
been with four other women before they married, and she really believed him
when he said that he had been faithful during their marriage.

   "I just know.  You're so into it when we fuck, though I have to say I
wish we did it more often.  I just cannot imagine anyone being hotter than
you.  Remember those videos that we rented last summer?" He didn't wait for
her to answer, they both knew that she remembered every detail.  "Well,
those women were professional porn actresses," he continued, "it was their
job to convince viewers that they were being brought to heights of
excitement that normal woman couldn't obtain.  They were nothing compared
with you."

   "Norm, we're all the same.  Half the adults on the planet are women.  We
all have boobs and vaginas.  Half are men.  You all have cocks and balls. I
really don't get the obsession with sex.  Maybe it's just a male thing."
She wondered if she hadn't said too much.  After-all, he had been so sweet
to take her out to celebrate the new job.  She did enjoy it when they made
love, however, there was so much more to life than screwing your spouse. 
"Anyway my stud," she said, "I'm glad you like they way I do it, I'm happy
that you enjoy it.  I do too.  You make me feel so good."

   "Do you think Trip would make you feel good too?" he blurted out
unexpectedly.

   "What do you mean?" Beth demanded as she pulled away from him, rolled
over on her other side facing him and looked at him in the dim light.

   "Don't make a federal case out of it, honey.  I just asked if you
thought that your new employer would like to do to you what I just did? 
That's all."

   "Oh, not this again," said Beth rolling her eyes.  "He's a harmless old
man.  Somebody's grandpa.  He's not someone who would be interested in me
or, for that matter, someone in whom I would be interested."

   "Well, you two will be spending a lot of time together.  I can't imagine
him, or any man, not thinking of you first as a woman, second as a person,
third as a co-worker, and probably never as another man's wife."

   "That's just ridiculous Norm, and you know it.  Not everybody is a sex
maniac." With that, she gave him a peck on the forehead, rolled over again,
scooted back against him and wiggled her bottom until his cock was, once
more, slightly nestled between the cheeks of her perfect ass.  As she began
to drift off to sleep, she could swear that his penis began to swell.

   Beth tossed and turned during the long night.  The next morning before
the sun came up, Norm watched as she dressed for her first day on the new
job.  She seemed as nervous as a high school senior getting ready for her
first day at a new school.  Nothing she tried on seemed to be just right.

   "I don't have a clue what I should wear," she said.

   "We'll have to go shopping this weekend but for today, how about the
beige suit and the matching heels," he suggested.

   "That might work.  I'll try it on."

   His eyes were glued to her as she stepped into the tight skirt and
pulled it over her hips.  She buttoned the button on the side and then
pulled up the zipper.

   "What do you think?" she asked.

   "I can't tell until you put on the shoes and the jacket."

   After she had stepped into the heels and buttoned the short jacket,she
took two steps toward him, placed her hands on her hips smiled at him and
said, "well?"

   "Perfect!  You look terrific honey.  I'm sure old Trip will be very
pleased with his new helper . . .  with his new ass set," he said,
emphasizing ass so there could be no mistaking his meaning.

   "Pervert," she said playfully.  "Really, do you think it's appropriate
for a law office?"

   "Like I said, you look perfect.  You have another hour before you have
to leave.  Though you'll be in traffic, I have an idea how we can spend the
time," he said as he closed the distance between them, put his arms around
her and bent his head until his lips met hers.

   "Norm, don't.  You'll get me all mussed up.  Also, I think I'm going in
early today."

   Chapter 3

   It was 8:30 when Beth entered the office.  Trip was already there and
was surprised by her early arrival.  "Good morning.  I didn't expect you
for another half hour," he greeted.  Not only was the old attorney startled
by her early arrival, he was also shaken by her stunning looks.  He had
been right in asking her not to wear slacks and to always wear high heels,
he realized.  Yesterday, he couldn't be certain what her boobs were like
hidden, as they were, by the loose blouse.  Today, he saw that, though they
were not large, they were perfectly shaped and set high on her chest.  That
is if they were all her, and natural, which he hoped they were.  Her long
legs were trim, at least the ankles and calves encased in beige nylon,
exposed to his gaze, were.  He went into the work room, poured her a cup of


   coffee and called out, "what do you take in your java?"

   "Black's fine." She appreciated his thoughtfulness, but reminded herself
that in the future she should be the one bringing coffee to him.

   "I have a bail hearing this morning.  Should be back before noon," he
said as he set a cup of steaming black coffee down on the corner of her
desk.  "These files are our active cases," he said pointing to a stack of
manila folders on her desk.  "While I'm gone, go through them and become
familiar with each case.  Also, let me show you our billing system." He
turned on her computer, gave her the password and accessed the minimal

   financial system.  "You can see that we try to get paid in advance and
work on retainers.  Keep the outstanding balance as small as possible has
always been my credo.  However, there are a handful of clients that we bill
and let run for three or four months.  Here, sit and I'll show you how to
move from program to program."

   As Beth sat in the chair in front of the computer, she knew that her
skirt had ridden more than halfway up her thighs.  She tried to pull her
skirt down, but it was futile because it was so tight.  Thank goodness I'm
wearing pantyhose, not stockings she thought, otherwise, Trip would get an
eyeful of a creamy, bare thigh above the stocking tops.

   Trip stood behind her chair and had a perfect view of the computer, her
legs and the tops of her billowy breasts and the beige lace of the bra that
encased them.  "Make careful notes of any calls that come in.  When I
return from the hearing, we will go over each case in detail."

   After he left, she snooped around the office.  During her interview the
day before she hadn't paid much attention to the framed diplomas and
certificates hanging on one wall of Trip's office.  She was very surprised
to discover that he had graduated from Yale's law school and had appeared
before the United States Supreme Court, the Colorado Supreme Court and the
U.S.  Tenth Circuit Court of Appeals.

   After going over the accounts, when she added up the billings from just
his active cases, she stopped thinking of Trip as a down-on-his-luck
lawyer. He was making hundreds of thousands of dollars a year that wasn't
shared with associates or paralegals because he didn't employ any.  The
small amount he had agreed to pay her and the pittance, she estimated, he
paid for rent and utilities--collectively his overhead--meant that nearly
everything he charged for his services remained in his pocket.

   Three people called during his absence.  Two were prosecutors wanting to
talk about pending cases.  The third was from an agitated client.

   "I need to talk to Trip," the man demanded.

   "He's in court.  May I take a message, and have him call you?"

   "Hey, you ain't Jan.  Where the fuck's Jan?"

   "I'm Mrs.  Adams.  Jan's no longer with us."

   "Well, Mrs.  Adams.  I have to see Trip ASAP.  The fucking cops are
hassling me about the girls dancing bottomless, you know, showing their
cunts and ass.  Oh, I'm Monroe, by the way.  What's your first name?  I
sure the fuck ain't gonna keep calling you Mrs.  Adams."

   "Beth," she said, totally shocked at his language.  "Trip told me he
would be back before noon."

   "Okay!  That's better.  Tell him I'll drop by after lunch, bout two.  He
needs to do something to get the sons a bitches to back off.  All the gals
are over twenty-one, and we don't sell a drop of liquor.  No zoning issues.
They just want me to give up and go away.  I'll be damned if those
mutha-fuckers think they can run me off."

   "I'll tell Trip you called and that you're coming by, Monroe."

   An hour later, she was so engrossed in the files she had been reading,
the opening of the outer door startled her.  Trip had returned and with him
was a giant of a man who must have been in his late forties.  His head was
bald, his ears were pierced and his skin was even darker than Trip's.

   The client stopped dead in his tracks when he saw Beth.  "Hey man
where's

   Jan?"

   "Jan's moved to California.  She won't be back.  This is Beth," Trip
said.  "Be nice to her and don't run her off, it's her first day." He
gestured toward the man and said, " Jan, this reprobate is Curley.  If it
wasn't for my legal skills, he'd still be cooling his heels in lockup at
county."

   They walked past her desk and into Trip's office.  Before they closed
the door, she heard Curley say, "fuck man.  That Beth's some sweet piece.
Tell me the truth Trip, does she taste as sweet as she looks?" Then he
broke up in uproarious laughter.

   "I wouldn't know," Trip said as he closed the door.  "And, keep your
voice down, these walls are tissue-paper thin."

   "Oh bullshit!" Curley exclaimed.  He did, however, lean closer to Trip
and lower his voice, if only for a moment.  "I know that you nailed every
gal that's ever worked for you.  Don't tell me that old age is catching up
with you and you can't get it up anymore." Then he laughed and said, "She's
the kind of gal I really like.  All sophisticated and pure like new fallen
snow, sitting behind her desk, but I'll bet she'd nearly break it off given
half a chance." He laughed again and asked, "do you think she's wearing
stockings?"

   "No, she's not wearing stockings, she's wearing pantyhose," the old
lawyer explained, speaking softly.

   "Ah ah!  Gotcha!  I knew you wouldn't be able to pass up a pussy like
that," said Curley more loudly than he should have.

   "Get your mind out of the gutter, Curley.  Her skirt had ridden up her
legs as she sat at her desk.  I'm pretty sure I would have been able to see
the tops of her stockings if that was what she was wearing."

   Beth was frustrated because she could only hear occasional words and
phrases when Curley raised his voice.  "Gotcha . . .  pass up . . .  pussy"
were clearly understandable.  She knew that they were talking about her,
and not in a very respectable way.  She was tempted to flee the office, but
Trip had given her fair warning what his clients were like.  Also, Norm
would think she was a big baby if she were to quit over something as
unimportant as eavesdropping on her bosses private conversation with a
client.  But, what was she to do?  This was, indeed, a very different
world.

   In Trip's office Curley said, "Look Trip.  If you ever do dip that big,
black dick of yours in that sweet thing, you've gotta promise to share her
with me like you shared Jan and . . .  what was the name of the woman
before Jan?  Oh, yeah Wendy.  How could I ever forget Wendy?  Okay?"

   "Curley, Curley.  Beth's not like Jan or the others.  She's a married
woman, a mother and I'm sure she's not a player.  Just be content with all
the women that work for you."

   "Well, Jan was married when she first started working for you.  Didn't
take you very long to score with her," said Curley again too loudly. 
"After that she was game for anything," he added.

   "That was Jan, not Beth," said Trip quietly.  "Now, knock off your day
dreaming, which will never be realized in your lifetime, and let's get down
to serious business.  I need to ask you a few questions and we have to make
arrangements for my fee for saving your sorry ass once again."

   Beth's cheeks must have been crimson red, she thought, as she tried to
fill in the blanks when the conversation between the two men became
muffled. In her forty years of living, she had never heard a more coarse
conversation about any woman and, to think, the subject of the
conversation, she had partially overheard, was her.  As she rifled through
the files searching for Curley's folder, she realized that she was having a
hard time breathing.  Her swollen nipples were pressed against the material
of her bra cups, and the crotch of her panties was becoming damp with the
involuntary secretions that were leaking there.

   Tilman "Curley" Wilson, Beth saw, had been a client of Trip's for a
decade.  She read that he had been arrested six times during that period.
Five times for pandering (procuring/solicitation), essentially living off
of women who were engaged in prostitution.  Once for assault and battery.
Trip had managed to keep Curley out of prison.  His only sentence, several
years ago, was for sixty days of which he served less than thirty.

   Ten minutes later the door opened and they came out.  As Curley passed
by her he said, "Beth, I'm glad I got to meet you.  I sure hope I get to
know you a lot better.  A lot better!" He leered at her then turned to Trip
and said, "see ya later counselor."

   Trip knew that Beth had overheard Curley's comment before he closed the
door to his office and some of what the black client had said when he spoke
too loudly.  "Are you okay Beth?"

   She didn't want him to think she was too sensitive to work for him and
to deal with his clients so she said, "I'm fine, why do you ask?"

   "Old Curley's got a foul mouth.  But, he's no worse than most of our
other clients."

   "Let's see, what did my mom teach me?" She smiled at Trip, then answered
her rhetorical question.  "Oh, yes, 'sticks and stones can break my bones
but words will never hurt me.'" As she recited the words she knew that
words could be much more hurtful than cuts and bruises.  Cuts and bruises
healed and often without leaving any tell-tale scars.  Words were seared
into the brain forever, and often recalled when one was vulnerable.  Now, a
total stranger, a black felon, had pondered "how sweet she tasted?" Would
those words come to hurt her, she wondered?

   "Okay.  I'm glad that he didn't shake you up.  You never know when
someone, who isn't accustomed to being around people like Curley and our
other clients, will react until they actually interact with them." He
changed the subject by asking, "any calls while I was out?"

   Beth handed him the pink message slips and said, "Monroe also called and
said that he would be over this afternoon.  Something about the police
giving him a bad time."

   "Hand me the folder for 'Monroe Bradford,'" Trip asked.  "Why don't you
take an hour off for lunch now.  There's about every kind of restaurant you
could imagine within a two block radius."

   Beth discovered that it was exciting to be in the busy downtown area. 
Had she been at home she would have made herself a sandwich and plopped
down in front of the television to eat it.  Here she was surrounded by
other people.  Busy people, interesting people, men and women who were out
in the real world, not locked behind the gates of a community doing exactly
the same thing every day in the comfort and security of a familiar
environment.

   For the first time she ate Thai food.  The spicy lunch special was
delicious and very different from any other oriental food she had eaten. 
She felt adventurous as she savored the textures and flavors that were
foreign to her palate.  After she had swallowed the last morsel, while
still seated at the small table sipping tea, she reflected on what she had

   learned about her new, mysterious employer.  He was, obviously, much
more successful and able than she had originally thought.  But there was
something she had heard Curley say that set off alarm bells.  Curley had
said that Jan had been "married" and that Trip had "scored with her." She
had no idea that Jan and Trip had a relationship other than employer and
employee.  Not that it was any of her business what Trip did in his
private, non-professional life, but she couldn't help but wonder about that
aspect of his existence.  What disturbed her the most, however, was the
fact that Curley had assumed, by his comment, that Trip already knew how
"sweet" she "tasted," that Trip had, had . . .  well there was no delicate
way to say it, that Trip had eaten her.  No one but Norm knew that she was
a deliciously tasty woman.  At least that's what he always said when he
lifted his wet face from her groin, she thought.

   ***

   In the suburb of Aurora, Norm Adams had also just finished eating his
lunch.  Well, maybe not eating it because he had only toyed with it.  He
was one of only four men who worked at the middle school, named for the
wife of a former president.  In the teacher's lounge, he was surrounded by
women that ran the broad spectrum in appearance and age.  There were the
young teachers who had just received their credentials and were still
starry-eyed and idealistic.  All three of them were gorgeous and
hard-bodied.  Each, in her own way, had made it perfectly clear to him that
she was available.  Just knowing that they fucked around on their husbands
was a huge turn on for him.

   Not only were the young beauties a distraction for the male half of the
student body, normally they were also a distraction for him, but, not
today. He had barely picked at his food because his mind wasn't on his
co-workers or his administrative duties, it was on his wife.  He wondered
how her first day on the job was going.  He hoped that her boss was getting
an eyeful of her.  It seemed to him as if the situation was perfect if Beth
were ever to let loose and become the kind of wife he knew she was capable
of becoming.  A hot wife.  As she had described Trip's clientele, he
thought that the office environment would be ideal to bring out the real
Beth.  He could hardly wait to hear about her first day on the new job.

   ***

   It was after one o'clock when Beth returned to the office.

   "Is that you Beth?" Trip called out.

   "Yes, it's me," she said as she stuck her head through the door of his
office and smiled at him.  She saw that he had eaten lunch at his desk. 
She couldn't have known that for the past ten years, every day at precisely
noon, the coffee shop in the lobby of the building sent up exactly the same
sandwich for him: pastrami on rye, hold the mayo, extra mustard.  She also
couldn't have known that Trip owned the building and the coffee shop.

   There was much about her employer, and those with whom he associated,
that she didn't know, she realized.

   An hour later the door opened and in walked Monroe Bradford.  Beth was
surprised that a large percentage of Trip's clients seemed to have two last
names.  Monroe was just the opposite of Curley, at least he was physically.
He was small, with sharp rodent-like features.  His hair was black, slicked
back on his head and his skin was coal black.  He strutted to her desk and
said, "Well, lookey here.  You must be Beth." He didn't attempt to cover up
his inspection of what he could see.  " Beautiful Beth, " he added.

   Trip, hearing Monroe's voice, walked into her office and interrupted
him. "Beth tells me that the police are harassing you again, Monroe."

   "That's right, that's right man.  My girls are all of age.  Hell you
know that.  And because I don't have a liquor license they can dance
bottomless.  But these fucking cops come in every day, and in uniform. 
They're hoping that my customers will become upset and stop coming in. 
Then, the fucking fire department has been by twice in the past week.  Fuck
man, I got me fire extinguishers, proper exit signs, panic hardware on the
doors.  I'm in total compliance."

   "Monroe, you run a club with nude dancers, what you're encountering goes
with the territory.  Your neighbors are never going to accept you.  What do
you want me to do?" Trip asked as they walked into his office.

   Before he could close the door behind them Beth heard the club owner
say, "Beth's really fantastic looking.  Bet she would really look hot
dancing nude on my stage."

   Monroe didn't stay long.  Trip promised to make a few phone calls that
he thought would be helpful.  Before Beth knew it, it was four o'clock. 
Part of her wanted to tell Trip that, though she appreciated the
opportunity he had given her, he had been right, this place wasn't a place
for her.  She couldn't live in two different worlds.  But another part of
her won out temporarily; a part of her that really found the work exciting,
Trip more than interesting and the opportunity to work out of the home
liberating, so she said, "see you tomorrow."

   During the drive home, her mind wasn't on negotiating the traffic but on
her day.  She relived every minute in the office.  What Monroe had said on
the telephone.  The coarse and vulgar language that at least two of Trip's
clients spoke and the comments she had partially heard about herself.

   While she enjoyed being in the heart of the city, she realized that as
Trip had warned her she was probably out of her element.  Hell, she
thought, no maybe about it.  Her world was very different from the ones in
which the old black attorney and his lowlife clients lived.  And, let's
face it she said to herself, you can't live in two different worlds. 
Before she turned on their street she had decided for the second time that
day that she wouldn't be able to keep working for Trip.  Tomorrow she would
thank him for the opportunity, express her regrets that things didn't work
and quit.  To be fair to Trip, she wouldn't accept any pay for the single
day of work and would begin looking for another job on Monday, probably in
a retail store close to home.  However, she knew that Norm would be
disappointed.  He seemed to be excited about Trip's practice and his
clientele.  She

   thought she knew why.

   Chapter 4

   Beth and Norm arrived home within a few minutes of each another.  "So
how did your first day go?"

   "It was really busy.  The time flew by," she answered.

   They both went in the bedroom to change out of their work clothes.  She
also wanted to take a shower so she stripped off all her clothes, carefully
folded them and placed them on the bed.  Before she entered the bathroom,
Norm said, "Hey sugar, turn around let me look at you."

   When she faced him, he saw that her nipples were hard.  "Honey, I can't
remember your perky nips sticking out like that.  Are you wet too?"

   "Oh silly.  My nipples are just like they always are . . .  "

   He closed the distance between them, took each nipple between thumb and
forefinger and confirmed by touch what his eyes had seen.  "Yup, I was
right.  These little puppies have never been harder." Then he released one
swollen nipple and his hand drifted down to her tummy until it covered her
tuft of downy, brown pubic hair.  His forefinger parted her lips and he
discovered that, sure enough, she was soaking.  After removing and sniffing
his finger, that glistened with her moisture, he placed it in his mouth and
sucked.  "Ummmm delicious," he declared.

   "Oh Norm stop that."

   "Boy you must have had some day," he said as he kicked off his brown
loafers.

   "I did.  I had Thai food at a restaurant near the office.  I mailed half
a dozen bills and studied all of our current cases.  Also, I answered the
phone, took messages and met two of his clients.

   "Tell me about them," Norm said with genuine interest.

   "After I shower, okay Honey?" She didn't wait for him to answer, but
walked into the bathroom, turned on the shower and adjusted the water
temperature to her liking.  She closed her eyes and turned her face up to
the spray and let the steaming hot water cascade over her naked body.  The
words that she had heard that day were played over and over again in her
mind.  "Tasty . . .  that Beth's some sweet piece" Curley had said.  "I
knew you wouldn't be able to pass up . . .  pussy." She wished she could
fill in the blanks.

   "Beautiful Beth," Monroe had said, "bet she really look hot dancing nude
on my stage." She soaped her shoulders, breasts and between her legs. 
When, the soft wash cloth came in contact with her vulva, she parted her
legs and pushed her pelvis forward until the swollen lips parted and her
clit peeked out of its hood.  When the cloth came in contact with the nub
she shuddered and experienced a mini-orgasm.

   Norm was laying naked on the bed waiting for Beth to finish her shower
and thinking about how hard her nipples had been, and how wet she was. 
Even though she claimed that her nipples were always like that, he knew
better.  He also knew that when she was aroused they got as erect as little
cocks.  It excited him to know that she had been stimulated by something
that happened at work; exactly what he had been hoping for when he
encouraged her to find a job.  My God, he thought, if this is how she is
after the first day, what will she be like after the first week, the first
month even a year from now, he wondered?

   After the shower, she sat at her dressing table, touched up her lipstick
and blow-dried her wet hair until it was dry but untamed.  Then, for
reasons she didn't understand, she went into her closet, rummaged around
until she found a pair of patent leather pumps that she hadn't worn in
years and stepped into them.

   Norm had to blink to make sure that his mind wasn't playing tricks on
him when he saw her walk out of the bathroom.  Her hair was wild and, for
the first time, she was wearing high heels and nothing else.  She stood
still and posed for him.  Her legs were parted, one hand was on her hip and
the other swept her hair off her long graceful neck.

   "Like?" She asked in a smoldering voice.

   "Huum," Norm cleared his throat.  "Yes, I like very, very much.  Get
over here you vixen."

   "Why, what do you want to do to me?" she teased.

   "I want to fuck you.  I want to fuck your brains out."

   That was exactly what Beth wanted and needed.  She didn't have to be
invited twice or pretend to be reluctant.  Their lips met and their hands
began their familiar explorations.  He seemed harder and bigger than ever
before.  Beth wanted to suck him, to take him in her mouth and make oral
love to his cock but that would have to wait because she needed that hard
flesh stuffed in another place immediately and she knew he was only good
for one time.  She climbed over him, grabbed his cock with one hand, aimed
it at her wet pussy and sat down until her ass cheeks were resting on his
hairy thighs.  As she engulfed him she experienced another orgasm and fell
forward desperately seeking his mouth wanting even more contact with the
love of her life.

   Finally, Norm broke the kiss, placed his lips next to her ear and said,
"oh, baby you feel so fucking good, you fuck so good, I wish I could last
forever."

   Beth also wished he could last forever.  That was one of the problems
they had experienced over the years.  She loved everything about him except
for his lack of endurance.  When he got boiling hot, he had a hard time
holding off.  Just as she was getting into it, he would cum, then his cock
was useless for hours.  Because he was a considerate lover he used his
hands, tongue and lips on her but that wasn't the same thing as the wild
thrusting when they were joined.  "I wish, I really wish that you could
last forever too," she divulged to him for the first time.

   Norm stopped moving and let her words sink in.  He knew, he just knew
that she was capable of more than she admitted to.  Oh yes, he thought,
this job must be working.  Thinking about his sexy wife at the office and
how hot she was when she came home took him over the edge.  He could hold
off no longer, and knew that he had taken one stroke too many as he tensed
and then erupted inside her.

   "Oh, no baby not yet," she begged as she moved faster trying to climax
simultaneously.  She was only partially successful.

   After Norm shot his load and Beth had a less than earth-shattering
climax, they cuddled as they always did.  Her head was nestled on his
shoulder.  In the afterglow she knew that she had to tell him about the
incident with Curley, some of Monroe's comments and what was on her mind
about continuing to work in Trip's office.  "Honey," she said softly.

   "What baby?" Norm asked sensing her seriousness.

   "I think tomorrow, I'll . . .  I'll tell Trip that I can't work there,
and start looking for something else."

   Norm sat up, turned to her and said, "I thought you seemed to like the
job.  Come on Beth, tell me, what's the real problem . . .  what's on your
mind?"

   "It's . . .  it's just, oh I don't know what to say.  I mean, well you
wouldn't believe some of the things that I heard today, " she said
breathlessly.  "I'm afraid Trip was right." She paused a few seconds before
continuing.  "His clients really are the scum of the earth . . .  or
reprobates, or whatever term he used to warn me about them before he
offered me the job."

   Now this is interesting thought Norm.  "So tell me Beth, what was it you
heard that was so upsetting?"

   "For one thing," she said, "neither of the two clients that I met today
can complete a sentence without using the foulest four letter words."

   "That doesn't surprise me.  I'm sure you didn't hear anything that you
haven't heard before.  Tell me what they said."

   "That may be true, but with the two I met today, it was f . .  this . .
. fnn that . . .  "

   Norm laughed.  "You mean fuck and fucking, don't you?"

   "Oh Norm.  You know what I mean.  I just don't like that kind of
language, and you've always known it.  But," she looked down at her hands,
paused a moment and said, "that's not all."

   "Go on honey, tell me the rest.  Take your time, I won't interrupt."

   "Well, the office is small, the wall must not be very thick and my desk
is just outside Trip's office, so I could hear some of what he and his
clients were talking about."

   "And what were they talking about baby?"

   "They . . .  oh, this isn't easy, Norm." She looked at him and said,
"they were talking about me."

   This is getting better and better, he thought.  So two of Trip's clients
had said things about her that caused her not only to consider quitting
after her first day on the job, but to come home horny.  "What did they
have to say?"

   "Well, I know that I wasn't supposed to hear, but, like I said, the
walls in the office are so thin . . ."

   "Spit it out, tell me what you heard."

   "Curley, one of Trip's clients said something like 'that Beth's some
sweet piece.' Then he asked Trip, 'tell me the truth, does she taste as
sweet as she looks?' I mean, can you believe it Norm?  One minute after
seeing me for the first time he assumed that Trip had...you know what I
mean."

   Norm couldn't believe what he had just heard.  He had hoped that after
working out of the home for weeks or months some guy would hit on his wife
and that over time she would succumb to his advances but this was better
than he could have imagined.  He knew that this was an important moment and
how he handled her revelation would determine whether or not she would cut
and run, whether or not she would even show up for her second day of work
let alone continue until something that had only been a fantasy could
develop into reality.

   "That is interesting," he said.  "I guess you mean that whatever the
guy's name was, oh yeah Curley, thought that Trip had made oral love to
you. He wanted to say 'ate you out' or 'licked your pussy, snatch or cunt'
but sensing how important the moment was, he didn't.

   "Yes, can you believe it?" Before he could respond she said, "oh, he
also wondered whether or not I was wearing stockings or pantyhose and Trip
told him that they were pantyhose.  That means that Trip had been looking
at my legs and must have seen so much nylon covered thigh that he knew I
couldn't be wearing stockings. . .  "

   "Honey, I think you're over reacting.  No man, except for a blind man,
could be around you, and not look at your gorgeous legs.  I wouldn't make
too much of it.  Guys say things that can be pretty gross, especially guys
like Trip's clients.  Tell me about this Curley guy."

   "Oh he's a big, bald, black man with a long record of living off women,
you know I mean he's a pimp for crying out loud."

   Oh wow!  Thought Norm.  What a perfect arrangement.  It would be a shame
if she quit and replaced this job with one that didn't offer the same
opportunity to make his dreams come true.  He reflected on what she had
said and asked, "Is that all?"

   "Not really.  I couldn't hear everything that was said but Curley said
something about Trip not being able to 'pass up pussy' . . .  then I
overhead him say that Jan, the woman who I replaced, was married.  It was
obvious that Trip and Jan had more than a working relationship."

   "So what, honey.  That goes on in every work environment.  Hospitals,
factories, even schools, everywhere, its what men and women do." Then he
asked, "is that it?"

   "No.  After lunch, one of his clients who had called in the morning, a
guy that owns or runs a strip club came in.  When he saw me he said, 'you
must be Beth, beautiful Beth.' Then when they went into his office I
overheard him say to Trip, 'Beth's really fantastic looking.  Bet she'd
look really hot dancing nude on my stage.'"

   "Honey, honey, you are beautiful, that's all he meant.  And, think about
it, this guy runs a strip joint so its logical that he would think that a
beautiful woman could really dance and that you'd look hot naked, so what?
Besides you would look good up on the stage."

   She knew that everything he said was logical, but she also realized that
what Trip had said during her interview the day before was very true, they
did live in two different worlds.  She wondered if it was possible to lead
two lives, a double life.  A life in the suburbs with her husband and a
working life in the city where she would be involved with people like
Curley, Monroe and maybe worse.  She thought that wasn't possible and
shared her feelings with her husband.

   "Norm, there are lots of jobs out there, this isn't the only one. 
Tomorrow is Wednesday.  I'll work the day for him and tell him he will have
to find someone else." Oh shit, thought Norm.  This wasn't going the way he
wanted it too.  She had come home horny, about that there could be little
doubt.  She did seem more alive than she had for a long, long time.  He
desperately wanted her to keep this job.

   "Beth, I'm not so sure that there are a lot of jobs out there.  The job
market is rather lean right now.  You said yourself that because of
education and experience you weren't qualified for most of the jobs that
were advertised.  And, it seems like he's willing to work with you on your
schedule, and pay you far more than you could make at an entry level job at
a store in the mall."

   "That's all true Norm.  It's more than that.  There's just something
about that office and Trip's clients.  I think it would be a mistake for me
to become a part of that different world.  It's a risk I can't take.  My
mind's make up, tomorrow I'll tell him I can't keep working there."

   Norm realized that he needed to change his strategy so he said, "Beth
you're a canary."

   "I'm a canary?  Why would you say that?"

   Norm didn't hesitate to answer.  "Because, you're afraid to fly out of
your cage.  And, frankly, if you did fly out, I doubt that you could
survive on your own.  Think about it, a canary is protected in its tiny,
confining cage.  It's cared for.  Food, water and cage cleaning are
provided by someone who takes care of it.  If the canary were freed from

   its cage, it couldn't survive.  Yeah Beth, I think you're a canary."

   "I'm certainly not a canary!  What more do you want from me Norm?" She
really didn't expect an answer and didn't give him a chance to even think
about it let alone respond.  "You asked me to get a job and I did.  Now I'm
telling you that it isn't the right job for me, and you try to make me feel
like . . .  well . . .  like a coward.  You insult me and tell me that I
can't make it in the outside world."

   "Beth, you're making too much out of this.  But, face it.  You're the
one who said you wouldn't fit in at Trip's office.  Hell, you'll never be
able to get a job that pays more, has better hours, and that gives you a
chance to learn something that might pay off big time in the future." Norm
was desperate for her to continue with the job, but not for any of the
reasons he had cited.  He wanted her to dress in heels, dresses and skirts
and be

   seen by her boss and his band of clients.  If there would ever be a
chance for her to bust loose and live, this was it.  "How many people did
you tell that the job was filled yesterday?"

   Beth was mad, but told him, "let's see, yesterday three or four and then
the morning he hired me, that one that I told you about."

   "It doesn't seem very fair to me that you would leave him in a lurch. 
If you want to quit, and I sure hope that you don't, I think the right
thing to do would be to give him notice.  Work until you are replaced or
two weeks, whichever comes first.  How does that sound?"

   She knew that he was right.  There was no possibility of arguing with
his logic or the fairness of his position.  "You're probably right.  I just
have this feeling Norm, that I shouldn't be in that place.  Call it an
instinct or whatever.  I want out of there as soon as possible."

   He took her in his arms and said, "I know baby, I know.  Give him your
notice and everything will work out." To Norm, work out meant that she
would change her mind before she could be replaced, or the two week notice
period expired.  He hoped that before then Trip and his band of clients
would see more or his innocent wife than just her pantyhose clad thighs.

   ***

   Norm Adams wasn't the only man thinking lustful thoughts about his wife
that night.  At least three other men couldn't erase her image from their
minds, not that they wanted to or were trying to very hard.  Jasper
Washington III, Tilman Wilson, a.k.a.  Curley, and Monroe Bradford were all
obsessed with the woman who had entered their respective lives earlier that
day.

   Chapter 5

   Exhausted after a long hard day in the office, the old black lawyer took
the elevator to the top floor of his office building and entered the
apartment that had been his home for more than twenty years.  When a
company that had been leasing the space elected not to renew its lease,
Trip decided that he would convert the office into an apartment.  It wasn't
the fanciest place in Denver, but it had more than he needed and was
decorated and furnished for one purpose, to be the perfect place to seduce
a reluctant woman.  The sound system was state of the art.  The decor was
tasteful and surprising when seen for the first time.  Fresh-cut flowers
were replaced weekly.  The super-size bed, in the large masculine room with
dark mahogany walls, was fitted with the finest cotton sheets.  Adjacent to
a formal parlor was a media room.  A large screen occupied one wall and an
expensive projector was used for watching television, cable, CD's and more
recently DVD's that some of his porn producing clients gave him.  Facing
the screen were two matching dark brown leather sofa's and two reclining
club chairs.  No one could have imagined that just a few floors above his
plain, cramped office was this luxurious place of seduction.  Not too bad
for a seventy year old man.  Not bad at all.

   Trip told everybody that the years had finally caught up with him.  How
he still thought about sex all the time, but it was getting harder and
harder to get an erection and when he did, it didn't last long.  How his
doctor said this was normal and prescribed Viagra.

   Jan hadn't wanted to leave and go to California, but he wanted her too.
He realized that he needed a new woman in his life.  It wasn't that Jan
wasn't attractive, or sexy, it was just that she was too familiar, too
predictable, and no longer a challenge because she would do anything that
he asked.  He remembered, with fondness, when she first came to work for
him four years earlier.  As innocent as the driven snow, just like he
assumed Beth was.

   Sure, Jan was married and obviously not a virgin, but there was little
doubt she was faithful to her husband.  It was a challenge for the man who
was not attractive, was black, and therefore taboo to someone like Jan, and
old enough to be her father.  It didn't take very long.  Within a week they
were touching, within two, stealing a kiss in the morning and when they
parted at the end of the workday.  By the end of the third week there was
no stopping them.  No power could have stopped her from taking off her
clothes, laying down on his couch, spreading her legs and inviting only the
second cock to enter her body.

   When Jan arrived on the scene she was fresh and innocent.  By the time
she left she was anything but.  He realized that it wasn't so much the sex,
but the conversion from innocent wife to shameless slut that he found so
exciting.  Jan had a dozen tattoos adorning her body by the time she left.
Some were in places that those who were not intimate with her would never
see.  A sterling sliver stud pierced her tongue, another her navel and a
third the hood of her clitoris.  Talking her into the body art had been
exciting.  No, the excitement of converting Jan was in the past.  He needed
a new subject, a new challenge and he thought he just may have the perfect
one in his new secretary, Beth.  He needed a fresh, undefiled canvas.  He
felt a slight stirring of his cock, thinking about the possibilities

   Beth was even more innocent, he believed, than Jan was when he first met
her.  If he knew anything about human nature, human behavior he thought
that the chances were good that Beth might not even show up for work the
next day after what she had heard Curley and Monroe say about her.  If she
did show up he wouldn't be at all surprised if she gave her notice to quit.

   Trip knew that the chances of him alone influencing her to stay on would
be slight.  However, something that she said when she was interviewed led
him to believe that he had an ally whom he had not yet met.  He recalled
that it was Beth's husband who wanted her to get out in the real world. 
Well, if she showed up for work tomorrow he would be certain that he had an
ally in her husband, her husband Norm Adams.  There was little doubt that
she would have told him about his clients, what was said and especially
what was said about her.  If she arrived in the morning it would be with
her husband's encouragement.

   ***

   Meanwhile, Curley sat in his Mercedes and watched the action on the
street.  His mind wasn't on business, but on the beautiful new secretary
Trip had hired.  Trip had always been generous with his women.  Curley
reminisced about the first time Trip offered Jan to him.  He would never
forget the startled look on her face.  But she was curious and maybe

   curiosity didn't kill the cat, but it sure got him laid, and Jan her
second cock outside her marriage.  Then there was the time, a few months
later, when he talked her into hooking for him occasionally.  His
arrangement with Trip was that her fucking for money wouldn't interfere
with her work in his office.  Hell, Trip even helped him talk her into it.
The only

   problem was Jan's husband.  He was as jealous as they come, and so she
wasn't nearly as free as he would have liked.  Only a few hours, a couple
of times during the week.  Unfortunately, when her old man found out she
was screwing Trip, himself, his clients and almost all other men who could
still get it up he dumped her.  Curley hoped that Beth's husband might be
more understanding and helpful than Jan's had been.

   Curley chuckled to himself as he remembered the first time Jan had
spread her legs for cash.  It had been great, but not as great, he
imagined, as if he could get Beth to do the same thing.  He loved watching
lily-white wives from the burbs turn into sluts.  This newest girl of Trips
looked like anything but a slut.  However, if he knew Trip, he was sure
that he must have seen potential or he wouldn't have hired her no matter
how much he had protested Curley's suggestion earlier that day.  I can
hardly wait, the black pimp said to himself though he knew he may have to
wait a very long time, maybe even forever.

   ***

   Not far away from where Curley's Mercedes was parked, in Monroe's
dimly-lit strip club, the music pounded and a naked young blonde woman
gyrated on the stage before a small, bored audience.  Monroe sat in his
booth and imagined that the woman on the stage wasn't Jessica, but the
beautiful Beth, whom he had met earlier that day.  Hell, tens of thousands
of men had now seen everything Jessica had to offer, and she wasn't even
twenty-five.  But, he remembered the first time that she had taken off the
last stitch of her

   clothing before a packed house.  The mixture of terror and lust that he
saw in her eyes was thrilling.

   Then he recalled the first time that Jan, Trip's former secretary, had
danced on his stage.  That had been even better than watching Jessica or
the countless other dancers when they made their maiden turns in front of
an audience of horny, leering strangers.  How he loved that look that could
never be repeated, that first time when trembling fingers unclasped a bra
and reached into the waistband of a G-string, a thong, or panties and inch
by inch edged them down to reveal what few had seen before.  He hoped, oh
how he hoped, that the day wouldn't be too far in the future when he could
watch that same expression on the face of Trip's new secretary, Beth, as
she writhed on the stage and spread her gash for cash for all to see.

   ***

   As Beth slumbered in her bed, curled up next to her sleeping husband,
she had no way of knowing that three other men wanted for her, what she
already knew one man, her own husband, desperately wanted; they wanted her
to come out of her cage, let her hair down and become the hottest woman in
the world.

   Chapter 6

   The next morning as she stepped out of the shower she thought that she
should just slip on slacks and flat shoes, thinking what difference would
it make because she planned on giving her notice.  Also, she didn't want
Trip or any of his clients who might see her, on what she hoped would be
her last day, to have to wonder whether she was wearing pantyhose or
stockings.

   As she stepped into a pair of tan slacks, Norm frowned and said, "I
thought you were supposed to wear dresses or skirts."

   "What difference does it make?  I'm giving my notice anyway." Then she
stepped into a pair of brown flat shoes.

   Norm shook his head and said, "Beth, you accepted a job on the man's
terms.  Hell, he hasn't done anything wrong.  He warned you about his
clients.  You knew exactly what type of law he practiced.  I don't see how
you can show up dressed in a way you agreed not to dress, then give the
poor guy notice and hope to get out of the place as soon as possible.  It
certainly doesn't seem fair to me."

   "Face it Norm, you said it yourself, you just want them to see as much
of me as possible."

   "That may be true.  But what I just said is also true.  You have to be
fair Beth."

   "So what should I wear?" She asked as she unbuttoned her slacks and
kicked off her shoes.

   "Let's see.  You've got lots of nice dresses," he said as he walked over
to the closet.

   "Nothing suitable for a business office other than the suit that I wore
yesterday."

   "How about this?" He asked as he turned and held out a yellow summer
dress that missed her knees by several inches.

   "You can't be serious.  That dress is okay around the house, maybe even
going to a movie on a hot summer evening, but not for work."

   "Try it on and let's see." As she went to the drawer of her dresser
where she kept her pantyhose he added, "I think I know how to make sure
that Trip and whoever else drops by the office today can avoid having to
guess whether or not you're wearing pantyhose or stockings."

   "How's that?"

   "Go bare legged.  Your legs are nicely tanned and unblemished, you don't
need to cover them with anything."

   The resistance had gone out of Beth, so she slipped on the yellow dress,
went to her shoe rack and selected a pair of brown high heel sandals. 
Luckily, she had painted her toe nails.  She stood in front of the full
length mirror on the back of the closet door and realized she would have to
add something.  A light-weight cream-colored jacket seemed to go with the
dress and she felt better about her outfit after she slipped the jacket
over her bare arms and covered her naked shoulders.  "I think this works,
don't you?"

   "Fuck Beth, you look beautiful, as always," he added.  "I'll bet old
Trip will just die when he hears that he's going to be denied the pleasure
of looking at the most beautiful woman in world everyday." He loved the
idea that, except for the jacket, which he didn't think would be practical
to wear while she was working, his wife's body was only covered with three
items: her matching cream-colored bra, tiny panties and the sexy, yellow
dress whose bodice barely covered her swollen breasts.  He felt sure the
jacket would come off pretty soon.

   ***

   Trip had been at work for an hour when he heard the door open.  He was
pleased to see that Beth had come in.  He still thought that the chances
were better than fifty-fifty that she would tell him she couldn't continue
to work there.

   Beth was very surprised to see an arrangement of flowers on her desk. 
She assumed, incorrectly, that the flowers were from Trip.  She opened the
small envelope and extracted the card which read:
Beth:
So glad that you're going to be working for Trip.  I think I'm going to
have to break the law more often just so I can see more of you.  Just

kidding!

   Best wishes:

   Tilman Wilson

   In spite of her conflicting feelings she was touched by Curley's
thoughtful gesture.  On her desk she noticed a wrapped package with her
name written on it.  She opened it to find an expensive brown leather
portfolio with her name engraved in gold foil in the lower right-hand
corner.  Trip's business card was attached with a note that read:

   Welcome aboard Beth.  Smooth sailing.  I really need you.

   She had no idea how difficult it had been for Trip to call in a favor
and have a luggage store work well past closing time to engrave the fine
leather with her name, and have it delivered before she arrived that
morning.

   As she was absorbing the gifts and her plan to give notice, now under
more difficult conditions, Trip walked into the reception area and said, "I
see you have an admirer.  The flowers were delivered a few minutes ago."

   "They're from Curley.  That was really nice of him," she said without
looking directly at Trip.  "Also, thanks for the beautiful . . .  folder, I
guess."

   "It's a portfolio Beth."

   "Well thanks anyway." She knew that if she were ever going to tell him
her plans she had to do it right away.  "This makes it so much more
difficult.  Trip, I ah . . .  I've thought about working here, and I think
what you said is true.  We do live in two different worlds.  I can't keep
working for you.  I'll stay for, oh say, two weeks or until you can find
someone else."

   "I would be lying Beth if I said I wasn't extremely disappointed.  I'm
sure that meeting Curley and Monroe was more than you had expected. 
However, I tried to warn you."

   "Oh, you did Trip.  I'm not judging them, I just feel uncomfortable. 
This is all so new for me, a fish out of water, I guess you could say. 
Can't you understand?"

   "I guess I don't really.  Every afternoon, you leave and drive back to
your husband and your home.  During the time that you are here, you help me
run the office.  You're safe here, Beth, in spite of the type of clients I
have.  The word is out on the street, and you'll be safe there.  Nobody,
not even a hopped up junkie, would dare bother you.  I promise that nothing
will ever happen here that you don't want to happen."

   Alarm bells sounded in Beth's brain.  What on earth could he have meant
by that?  She asked herself then she asked him.  "What do you mean?"

   "Exactly what I said, nothing will happen to you that you don't want to
happen.  None of my clients are rapists, Beth.  Sure, they talk rough, and
most are involved in the sex industry, but none of the women who have
worked for me ever did anything against their will."

   "Trip, you've focused right on the problem.  I felt uncomfortable around
Curley and Monroe.  I don't want to spend my time on guard.  Also, I
overheard that you obviously had a . . .  what should I call it?  I guess
that you and Jan and her predecessor had more than a . . .  well, a , I
mean more than a working relationship." There she had said it and she felt
much better about it.

   "Oh Beth, I'm an old man.  I'm afraid that that's all in the past for
me. I must admit that if I were ten years younger or in better health,
working around you every day, and not being conscious of your beauty and
sexuality would be impossible."

   Beth found herself blushing at his blatant compliment.  She gave him a
timid smile and went back to her desk.  The rest of the morning was spent
filing, answering the phone and studying the client files.  She would force
herself work through the two weeks notice she had given.

   Beth had just returned to lunch and was still reeling from an overheard
comment.  Two men were sitting at a table next to her and nearly behind
her. She hadn't been paying attention to the buzz of conversation going on
around her, because her mind was on the last comment that Trip had made. 
"Nothing will happen here that you don't want to happen." What did that
mean?  Suddenly she heard one of the men saying, "...looks good in yellow,
don't she?" The other man said, "Look better with nothing on, and her legs
wrapped around my neck."

   Trying not to be obvious, Beth looked around the deli.  She was the only
woman wearing yellow.  She felt a flush of embarrassment creeping across
her face.  They had to be some sort of construction workers, or some other
blue collar types to make such a terrible and crude comment.  She waited
for a few minutes, and casually glanced at the table.  Both men were
wearing business suits.  She could almost hear her theory crashing to the
floor.

   "What wrong, Beth?" Trip asked coming out of his office.  "You're
positively red-faced."

   "Why are men such, ah...pigs?" she demanded.

   "The nature of the beast," Trip answered with a smile.  "What happened?"
She told him about the comment she overheard.  "And you took umbrage at
that?" he asked.

   "Of course I did," she snapped.  "It was rude, and it was crude.  Any
woman would be offended."

   "I don't think so," Trip said with a smile.  "It is a man's ultimate
compliment to indicate his sexual desire for a woman.  How would you feel
is they had expressed disgust or revolution?"

   "I would have felt better if they had expressed nothing at all.  I did
nothing to cause that kind of comment.  I was just sitting there..."

   "Looking beautiful and sensual," the old attorney finished for her. 
"Poor Beth, you have no idea how appealing you actually look do you?  Why
don't you take the rest of the afternoon off and go shopping.  I don't know
a great deal about women, but I know a shopping trip is apparently a
cure-all."

   Beth decided to take his offer.  She knew that she would never wear that
yellow sundress to the office or anywhere else again.  She stopped at a
shopping mall on her way home.  She bought two ultra conservative dresses.
She was still smarting about the sales clerk's comment when she pulled into
her drive.  "How dare she," Beth fumed aloud.  "Telling me it was a shame
to cover up my body with dull dreary clothes.  Who did she think she was,
anyway?"

   Later when she showed Norm what she had bought, she couldn't help but
notice his expression of dismay or maybe it was something else.  Disgust?
Disappointment?  His only comment was a neutral "nice, Honey".

   After they had turned the lights off and were in bed she said, "You
didn't really think my new outfits were nice, did you?"

   "No," he answered, "I didn't.  They look like something a ninety year
old woman would wear.  My God, Beth, you could drop four or five pounds and
pose for Playboy.  I don't know why you want to dress like you do."

   Beth didn't answer him.  She didn't know the answer.  Had the world gone
mad?  Was everybody thinking sex, sex, and more sex?  She thought about
some of the things her mother had told her as a teenager.  While she
couldn't remember the exact words she remembered the gist of it.  Men only
wanted one thing from a woman.  A woman should never encourage lustful
thoughts.  A woman should never do, or say anything where a man could get
the impression she was a 'loose' woman.  She drifted off to sleep thinking
these things.

   Beth woke up before the alarm went off.  She was wide awake and clearly
remembered a dream she had.  She had been dancing in Monroe Bradford's
strip club.  She had on one of her new dresses, and men were hissing and
booing at her.  Even when she raised the hem of the dress to just above her
knees they yelled at her to get off the stage.

   She shook her head to clear the disturbing images and went to the
shower. She got one of her new dresses, held it up to her, and looked in
the mirror.  Dowdy was the only word that came to her mind.  Maybe Norm and
the sales clerk were right.

   She arrived at the law office wearing a light blue summer dress that she
had never worn before.  She found it hanging in the very back of the
closet. The dress had been a birthday present from Norm several years
earlier.  The two new dresses were in the back of her car, and she intended
to exchange them that afternoon.

   She had a steaming cup of coffee ready for her employer when Trip
arrived.  She had straightened up the office and vacuumed the carpet after
she found the vacuum sweeper.

   "Bless you my child," Trip said taking the coffee.  "You are an angel of
mercy.  You look might pretty this morning.  Is that a new dress?"

   "No, Trip it's an old dress." She answered with a laugh.  "I bought two
new ones, and everybody said I looked like a frump.  I'm exchanging them
this afternoon."

   "Good for you, my dear," the old lawyer said.  "Appearances are
everything.  I do have a suggestion if you are interested.  An acquaintance
of mine, Mindy Perkins, has a specialty dress shop not far from here.  She
caters to some of the elite in the area, and she always gives my friends a
substantial discount.  Why don't you take a long lunch and visit her?"

   "I doubt that I could afford that type of dress," Beth said.  "But I
suppose it wouldn't hurt to look."

   Trip Washington smiled to himself when he closed his office door.  It
appeared that Beth Adams was at least peeking out from her shell.  What he
had not told Beth was that he owned the dress shop.  Mindy, only managed it
for him.  Mindy worked for Curley Tilman for a while.  Mindy had been a
five hundred dollar a night call girl when she decided to get out of the
business.  Mindy now only worked the group sex scene these days.  She like
her men hard, and black, and lots of them.  Trips dress shop made a tidy
income for Mindy and a lot of money for him.  A simple phone call to Mindy
would be sufficient.

   Chapter 7

   Beth had to make two trips to the car to get all she had bought at the
dress shop.  She couldn't believe how many things she bought and the final
bill.  Apparently Trip Washington's friends got a hefty discount, indeed.
The saleslady, Mindy, insisted on helping her pick out the clothing.  Mindy
had talked her into buying hose and garters.  Beth had never even owned
hose that required a garter.  And the shoes.  Two pair of high heel shoes
that were a good inch higher than anything she had ever owned.

   Having decided to surprise Norm, Beth changed into one of her new
outfits.  It took her a while to figure out the snap arrangement for the
garter, but she finally managed to have it right by the time her husband
came in the door.

   "Oh my God!" he said after taking one look at her.  "Is that you, Honey?
Please tell me it is, or if I'm dreaming, don't wake me up."

   She giggled and was pleased at his reaction.  "It's me, Norm.  Stop
acting so silly.  It's just a dress."

   "No, it isn't just a dress.  It's a work of art on a work of art.  Damn,
you look good enough to eat, Beth."

   "You ain't seen nothing yet," she said still giggling.  "Take a look at
this." She raised her dress up above the hose tops.  She laughed loudly at
Norm's expression when she did.  It took him longer to figure out how to
unsnap the garter then it had her to snap them.  His persistence paid off
in big dividends for both of them.  Early afternoon and pre-dinner sex was
an unusual treat for both of them.

   ***

   Beth wore one of her new frocks to work the following morning.  Trip
Washington was wise enough to only smile, and nod his approval.  Now, he
thought, she was almost ready to venture out of that shell.  It was Friday,
and Fridays were apparently a light day for the lawyer.  He only saw one
client that morning.  The client was a young woman, with ridiculously
large, and obviously fake breasts.

   Through the wall Beth could hear most of the conversation.  Mainly
because the woman was loud.  The client was in a contract dispute with her
landlord.  Apparently the client had violated the terms of the lease
agreement by taking men home with her.  Commercial sex, Beth assumed, from
the conversation and judging by the woman's appearance.  She heard Curley's
name several times.

   "I'll get started on this Kelli," Trip told the woman.  "You give Beth a
check for five hundred dollars.  We'll bury the sucker in paperwork."

   A few minutes later the large chested woman stood in front of Beth's
desk.  "I don't have a checking account," she told Beth.  "Will cash do?"

   "Certainly," Beth assured her.  "Tell me your name and I'll make out a
receipt for you."

   "My real name?"

   "Yes, I should think you would want it in your legal name," Beth said.
"Kelli what?"

   "Abigail Worthy," the woman stammered.  "Kelli is my professional name."

   Smothering a smile, Beth wrote the receipt and gave it to the woman.

   "I see you were admiring my tits," the woman said to Beth.  "I got them
at a bargain.  One thousand bucks each.  Good deal, huh?"

   "I guess," Beth said.  "I'm not up on the price of...ah, breast
enhancement."

   "Normally would cost five grand," the woman said.  "I hade to do
something special for the doctor and three of his buddies.  Yeah, I can see
why you wouldn't know about something like that.  You got a nice rack. 
I'll see you later." With that she was out the door.

   At lunch, Beth got a sandwich and went to a little park to eat.  She
watched the people and particular watched the men, watch her.  Some were
sly, and some didn't bother to hide the fact they were staring at her. 
Beth had never noticed men looking at her before.  Was this something new,
she wondered?  She nearly laughed out loud when one man made his third trip
by her.  It dawned on her that the man, a nicely dress man of middle age,
was working up his courage to talk to her.  Her first inclination was to
get up and leave, but strangely she didn't.  She waited for him to make his
move.

   "Hi," the man said nervously, "Mind if I sit here?" he was indicating
the other end of the park bench.

   "Not at all," Beth said.  "It belongs to the tax payers.  You do pay
taxes, don't you?"

   "I should think so," the man said dryly.  "Seems like Uncle gets more
and more of my money.  Do you work near here?"

   "Yes, I work in a law office a few blocks from here.  Do you work around
here?" Beth was surprised at herself.  She was engaging a complete stranger
in conversation.  The man told her he worked for an accounting firm.

   "I'll bet being a legal secretary is a lot more interesting than pushing
numbers around all day.  I'm Todd Ivy, by the way."

   "I'm Beth," she responded.  "Yes, working in my profession, you do meet
a lot of fascinating people.  Just this morning I met a hooker with a fifty
inch chest."

   "You're joking," Todd said his eyes bulging, "Fifty inches?  How on
earth was she able to stand up?"

   "Just barely," Beth said laughing and wondering why she told him about
Kelli.  Why was she even talking to him at all?

   "You didn't happen to find out where she was working, did you?" Todd
asked, his face turning red.  "Not that I want engage her.  I just wanted
to see her."

   "No, sorry," Beth answered with a smile.  "Can't divulge that
information.  You are on your own there.  Nice talking with you, Todd.  I
have to get back to work."

   "Yeah, Beth.  My pleasure.  Maybe we'll meet again sometime," he called
after her.

   ***

   "Trip, you are a man, so maybe you can answer my question," she said to
her boss.

   "Thank you for noticing," the elderly man said with a chuckle.  "Not as
much as I once was.  What question?"

   "Why are men so enthralled with big breasts?"

   "Well, that's a deep question," he said.  "I suppose that men are
attracted to women's breasts because we don't have them.  In many
societies, where the female breast is always exposed, the men pay little,
if any, attention to them.  One could conclude that we men are fascinated
by boobs, because you ladies keep them hidden...most of the time anyway."

   "You think?" Beth asked.

   "Yes, that's my theory anyway.  Now, sweet Beth, you must not
generalize. Not all men prefer large breasts.  Some, in fact are turned off
by super large breasts.  I happen to be in that category, myself.  You know
the old saying...all over a mouthful is wasted."

   "Really?  I thought all men like big boobs."

   "Now don't get me wrong," Trip said smiling.  "I'm like most other men.
I'll look if I get the opportunity.  Large breasts will get a man's
attention, but they won't keep it for long.  I prefer a woman with some
ability to converse with me at, or near my own level of intelligence.  The
size of her breasts are not all that important to me."

   "Not all that important?" Beth said with a smile.  "You acknowledge that
there is some importance, though?"

   "Certainly," The old man said.  "I just don't want to feel the need to
wrestle them into submission.  I'm much more comfortable with a nice
thirty- six C.  Much like yourself."

   Realizing the conversation had turned personal, Beth got busy at the
filing cabinet.  How had he guessed her size so accurately, she wondered?
That was uncanny even for a man with his experience and age.  She left the
office that afternoon telling Trip she would see him Monday morning.  She
had her check for the four days she had worked.  Even after the deductions,
she felt a sense of pride that was not in proportion to the net amount on
the check.

   Chapter 8

   Beth arrived early at the law office.  She had coffee made and ready
when Trip Washington arrived.  She put a file on his desk beside the
coffee. It was Trip's first appointment.

   "Did you have a nice weekend, Beth?" the old attorney asked, looking up
at her.  She was wearing another of her new outfits.  A black silk skirt
and a frilly white blouse with a rather daring neckline.  She was bending
over his desk and she noticed that his eyes lowered to gaze at the tops of
her breasts.

   "Yes, it was nice," she answered straighten up.  "Norm and I went out
Saturday night and blew my whole paycheck on a marvelous dinner."

   "That's good," the old man chuckled.  "Budget the luxuries and the
necessities will take care of themselves.  That has always been my belief."

   "Did you have a good weekend?" Beth asked.

   "Yes indeed I did.  I hosted a poker party Saturday night.  While you
were fine dining, I was spending a night of gambling and debauchery.  To
each his own, I suppose."

   Beth laughed at his quip.  "How many attended your revelry?"

   "Five men and two women," he answered.  "A couple of friends of yours
were in attendance.  Monroe Bradford and Curley Wilson."

   "You party with men like that?" she asked, shocked at the revelation.

   "Certainly, my dear," Trip said with a laugh.  "Monroe and Curley are
wonderful guests to party with.  Good times are their watchwords.  Both are
a lot of fun.  By the way, they both send their regards to you." That
comment sent Beth to her desk.  She wondered what Trip Washington and the
other two men had in common.

   Trip smiled as he watch Beth hurry from his office.  Damn girl, you look
hot in that outfit, he thought.  Did your cute little ears burn Saturday
night?  They should have, because you were one of the topics of
conversation.  Hot and nasty conversation, too.

   ***

   "I say she a lot hotter than Jan ever was," Curley Wilson said.  "She's
so hot she sizzles."

   "I got to agree with the pimp," Monroe Bradford said.  "That cunt is
mighty hot.  Seems a little stiff, but still hot."

   "She is not as stiff as she was in the beginning," Trip said.  "Are you
going to ante, Curley or sandbag like you have the last two times around?"

   "Oh, did I forget to ante?" the whoremaster said.  "Sorry about that. 
What makes you think she loosening up any?"

   "I sent her to see Mindy for some dresses and things.  She's dressing up
better.  Mindy got a few photos of her in the dressing room.  Beth Adams
has a body that just won't quit."

   "So are you going to share the pictures with the rest of us?" Monroe
asked.

   "Of course," Trip said with a chuckle.  "Don't I always share with you
turkeys?" He handed the men the photographs.

   "Man, those are lip-smackin' tits," Curley said looking at the photos
and passing them on.  "Got a full bush, don't she?  See if you can get her
to trim it, Trip."

   "And how do you propose I do that, you jackass?  'Excuse me, Beth, but I
noticed that you need to trim your pubic hair.'"

   "You had Jan get hers shocked off," Monroe said.  "What do you call it,
electrolysis or something?"

   "Yes," Trip said.  "Electrolysis."

   "I miss ol' Jan," Curley said.  "She did have a nice smooth cunt, didn't
she?"

   "Yeah, and it was nice and tight until you turned her out for every big
dick that came along." Monroe said.  "Man, that woman liked to fuck."

   "Quiet so," Trip said shuffling the cards and starting to deal.  "Ante,
dammit.  Why do you do that Curley?  You have plenty of money.  Jan did
love her dick, didn't she?  In the beginning she was much like our Beth. 
She didn't know she liked to fuck.  I'm optimistic that we'll have much the
same success with Beth."

   "I thought you said she gave notice," Monroe said.

   "She did, but I overheard her tell an applicant that the position had
been filled.  That was Yesterday morning.  I think our Beth has had a
change of mind.  We shall see.  You in Monroe or what?"

   ***

   Beth also gave some thought to the previous weekend.  She and Norm spent
an ordinary weekend.  Uneventful, except for the unusual number of time
they made love.  Beth smiled recalling that the second session on Saturday
was anything but "making love".  It was, as Norm said, hot, sweaty, down
and dirty, fucking.  She had several big orgasms back to back.  That was a
rarity.  Norm had mounted her from behind and was pounding her ferociously.
She recalled the nasty, harsh words Norm used.

   "You want a hard black cock in your hot cunt, don't you bitch.  You want
Curley or Trip or that other black son of a bitch.  You want to be black
fucked like the whore you really are, don't you?"

   "Yes, yes!  God yes!" she screamed her cries muffled by the pillow she
had stuffed in her face.  "I want a black fucking!"

   ***

   Her face turned crimson as she sat at her desk remembering that and the
sessions of passion on Saturday night and again on Sunday.  It was as if
Norm had turned into a lusty teenager over night.  On Saturday night, after
they returned from dinner, and all day Sunday he kept talking about sex
with black men, and strangely she responded to his fantasy.  Norm had asked
her, and she had readily agreed to wear some of the sexy underwear she had
bought.  In fact all day Sunday that was all she put on.  She had felt
wanton and wicked, and she liked the feeling.

   All Monday morning Trip watched Beth as she went about her duties. 
Something was different, but he couldn't put his finger on what it was. 
His one thirty appointment was with Curley.  Curley was always late, but he
was early for this appointment.  Trip knew the reason.

   "Hi, you good lookin' thing you," Trip heard Curley in the outer office.
"Hey nice skirt.  Looks good on you.

   "Good afternoon, Curley," he heard Beth say.  "Thank you.  Have a seat
and I'll tell Trip you're here.  "

   "If it all the same to you, I'd rather stand.  That way I can look down
your blouse.  You got great knockers, did you know that?" Trip laughed
softly to himself.  Good old silver tongue Curley.

   "Suit yourself," he heard Beth say.  "I'm going to get up anyway." She
came to the door.  "I suppose you heard, but in case you've gone completely
deaf, Curley Wilson is here."

   Trip opened his mouth to tell Beth to send Curley on back, but changed
his mind.  "Give me ten minutes and send him on back," he said.  It would
be interesting to see how Beth dealt with the lecherous Curley.

   "Hey Beth, did you hear about the woman who went to the doctor and said,
'I've got a big problem, doctor.  Every time we're in bed and my husband
climaxes, he lets out this ear splitting yell.' 'My dear,' the Doc said,
'that's completely natural.  I don't see what the problem is.' 'The problem
is,' the woman said, 'It wakes me up!'" Trip heard Curley laugh loudly at
his joke.  He didn't hear anything from Beth.  He knew Curley wouldn't let
it go at that.

   "Then there this guy who was tired of his old lady just laying there
while he did her.  'Hey, why don't you ever say when you come?' His old
lady says, 'because you're never home.' Hey come on Beth that's funny
shit."

   "Yes, it certainly is," Trip heard Beth say.  "Go on back and tell Trip
your jokes.  I have work to do."

   "Well Curley, I could hear you had Beth rolling on the floor with your
jokes," Trip said when the man came in the office.

   "What the fuck, I got her to smile at the last one," Curley said.  "Hey
Trip, two of my ladies got put in jail last night.  They was grabbed on a
stupid solicitation bust, but one of them stupid cunts had some blow in her
boot.  How about getting her sprung?"

   "Sure Curley, have they had a bond hearing?" Trip asked.

   "Four this afternoon in division three," Curley answered.  "I'm good for
the bail.  Get Joey to bail her out.  Problem is, this is her second time
with the dope.  They'll want to slam her hard.  Maybe you can head that
second offence off."

   "Maybe," Trip said.  "I have a better idea.  Why don't you let her rot
in jail and get some other whore?  Maybe one that has enough sense to keep
her illegal substance at home when walking the streets."

   "I got a policy," Curley said.  "I stand by my ladies.  Workin' for me
they are covered.  When she gets her ass out of jail, I'll send her ass
packin' but not before.  That why I got the best stable in town.  All my
ladies know I'm there for them."

   "Aren't you the paradigm of good labor management?" Trip said with a
laugh.  "Yes, you are probably right.  It is good business.  It's Sally
isn't it?"

   "Yeah, I'd run her off a long time ago, but she's been a good cash cow.
She likes her job.  Only problem is, she likes her nose candy, too.  Maybe
too much.  I'd be a happy man if you can worked it down to simple
possession, first offence.  I'll get her ass in rehab again.  Maybe it'll
take this time."

   I doubt it, but I know you'll try anyway.  I'll see what I can do.  What
last name is she using these days?"

   "Sally Daze," Curley said laughing.  "Poor Sally probably don't remember
what her real name is anymore.  I'll see you later, Trip."

   "Hey Beth," Curley said when he reached the outer office.  "You know
what one whore said to the other?"

   "What?  Call Curley, he's the king of the pimps?" Beth replied.

   Both Beth and Curley could hear Trip laughing from the back office.

   "That was a good one, Beth," Trip said when Curley left.  "Poor Curley
didn't know what to say to that.  Would you get me the file on Sally...ah,
your are on the ball, my dear," as she handed him the file.

   ***

   That night Beth told Norm the jokes Curley told her.  Norm laughed as
hard as Trip had when she told him what she had said to Curley.

   "Sounds like you can hold your own down there," Norm said.  "Giving as
good as you get."

   "Well, Curley Wilson isn't a rocket scientists, but it was fun getting
back in his face," Beth said.  "Oh, I forgot to tell you Trip wants to
takes us out to dinner tomorrow night.  Is that okay with you?"

   "Yeah, sure," Norm said.  "I'd like to meet this boss of yours."

   ***

   "I've heard a lot of nice things about you Mister Washington," Norm
said. They were at a nice restaurant in the downtown area.

   "You need to stop with the mister stuff," Trip said.  "All my friends
call me Trip.  Enemies too, I reckon.  I'll call you Norm.  Beth said you
are a school teacher.  Laudable profession, teaching.  I nearly went that
direction myself."

   "Why didn't you?" Norm asked.

   "I wanted money, and as you are well aware, teaching isn't the way to
get rich.  Damned shame, but it's the truth.  Besides my father and mother
were both attorneys and I didn't have much choice in the matter.  Not that
I regret one minute of it.  I enjoy the law."

   "He likes the people he meets," Beth teased.  She was dressed in a new
cocktail dress that she had purchased at the dress shop Trip had steered
her to.  It was a bit more risqu� then she would have normally bought, but
Mindy had insisted that she looked good in it.

   After a nice dinner, Beth excused herself to go to the ladies room.

   "She is certainly fast becoming an asset to the firm," Trip said to
Norm. "Going to have to adjust her salary very soon.  She really dresses up
the old place."

   "Yes, she is dressing better these days," Norm agreed.  "It's great to
see her come out of her shell.  Until last week she was content to dress
like an old woman."

   "She is very attractive, if you don't mind me saying so," Trip offered.

   "No sir, I don't mind at all.  I like it when other men admire her.  You
accomplished in a week what I couldn't do in twenty years." Norm laughed.
"Beth tells me that she overheard a conversation about your former
secretary.  Of course it went no farther than me.  Beth knows not to talk
out of school."

   "Jan became, how shall I say it?  A free spirit, I suppose.  Jan had the
remarkable quality of being color blind.  She treated all of us equally,
regardless of color.  I miss her sometimes.  I am an old man, but I'm not
dead yet."

   "I got the impression that she shared her favors," Norm said.  "That is
another remarkable quality." Norm wasn't sure where the conversation was
going, but he sensed that it was on the right track.

   "Yes, like I said, I miss Jan sometimes.  So, Norm, you like the new
Beth, huh?"

   "I do indeed," Norm said.  "Keep doing whatever it is you are doing. 
Let's get her completely out of her shell." Trip fixed the husband with a
sharp look.

   "So you want your wife to warm up?  Is that it?"

   "No sir, I want her hot," Norm said bluntly.  "I want her to be my hot
to trot wife.  I've often thought of her getting it on with other men. 
Lately even black men."

   "You don't say?" Trip said with a smile.  He now knew he had a kindred
spirit in Norm.  "I have a friend that's quiet taken with your Beth.  I
suppose she mentioned Curley to you?"

   "Yes she did.  He's the pimp, isn't he?"

   "Yes he is," Trip said.  "I think he has designs on Beth.  How do you
feel about that?"

   "Tell him to go for it," Norm said with a laugh.  "I doubt that he'll
get anywhere.  You can give it your best shot also."

   "I doubt that Beth sees much in me.  I'm too old and worn out these days
to do much chasing.  I have to save my energy for the capture."

   "You might be surprised," Norm said smiling.  "I hear a lot about Trip
Washington.  Trip did this or Trip said that.  Beth may be developing a
crush on you."

   "You flatter an old man," Trip said.  "However we'll just have to see,
won't we?" That line of conversation stopped when Beth returned to the
table.

   On the drive home, Beth asked, "So what were you and Trip talking about
so seriously?  I watched you for a few minutes before I came back to the
table."

   "Frankly, we were discussing you.  Trip said he was going to revise your
pay.  I thought you gave him notice?"

   "I did," she said.  "I really need to do something about that, too. 
I've changed my mind...at least I think I have.  What do you think Norm?"

   "It's not up to me.  However, I really like the new Beth.  I think the
canary may be about to come out of her cage."

   "You better be careful what you wish for, Bucko," Beth said with a
laugh. "You might not like the free flying bird."

   "I think I will like that bird just fine.  I didn't tell you, but I had
a wild dream the other night."

   "Tell me about it," she encouraged.

   "I'm not sure you would like it very much."

   "It was just a dream, Norm," she said.  "It doesn't matter if I like it
or not.  Tell me."

   "It was a erotic dream.  You were teasing a black man and he slapped the
hell out of you, threw you down on a bed and fucked the shit out of you."
He glanced at her and saw that she was staring straight ahead out of the
windshield.  She didn't comment on his dream, which wasn't really a dream,
but a fantasy.  Beth didn't say anything until they got home.  Norm was
regretting his revelation to her.  He had gone too far.

   "Where were you?" Beth asked as they got ready for bed.

   "What?  I don't understand."

   "In your dream," she said.  "Where were you when all that was taking
place?"

   "I was sitting in a chair at the foot of the bed," he answered, quickly
making it up.  He had not considered his place in the fantasy.

   "You just watched as a black man ravished me?"

   "Yeah, at first.  When he got through with you, I jumped on and fucked
you, too."

   "How was it?" she asked.  She was standing nude beside the bed.

   "I don't know," Norm said deciding to give his future fantasies more
thought.  "I woke up before I got to that part."

   "Pity," she said with a grin.  "It would have been nice to know if I had
anything left for you, wouldn't it?"

   "I guess," Norm said matching her grin.  "Make love or fuck?"

   "Fuck," she answered.  "We can make love anytime, can't we?" During the
hot fuck session, Norm deliberately didn't mention black men or black
cocks.

   Chapter 9

   "Anytime you want to leave this tight fisted old bastard, and make some
real money, you come see me," Monroe Bradford said to Beth.  He was waiting
on his turn with his lawyer.  It was a couple days after the dinner with
Trip.  The next day, Beth told Trip that she wanted to stay on with the law
firm.  He responded with a smile and a nice raise in salary.  Both please
Beth.

   "What on earth do you need a secretary for?" Beth responded.

   "I don't.  You would make ten times what Trip pays, dancing for me at
the club."

   "You have to be joking!" she said laughing "Who would pay to watch an
old woman take her clothes off?  Give me a break, Monroe."

   "I can get young girls to dance nude.  They're a dime a dozen.  Getting
a mature woman, who's a fox, is a lot harder.  Damned near impossible.  The
last mature hottie made a shit-pot full of money.  It was too bad she had
to leave town."

   "That was Jan, I guess," Beth said, she actually was guessing.  Just
putting two and two together from the bit and pieces she managed to
overhear.

   "Yeah, I miss her," Monroe said.

   "When did she have time to do dancing?  Wasn't she working for Trip
during that time?"

   "Yeah, but Trip is real nice to his help.  Most of the time she danced
at night or on weekends, but if she needed to take off Trip would let her.
You know, private dance or party.  I'm telling you, Beth, you would be in
real demand."

   "Leave my woman alone, you old lecher," Curley yelled, coming out of
Trips office.  "She's going to leave Trip and come work for me.  Get away
from her." While the two men bickered and fussed, Beth went to Trips door.

   "I guess you heard from the yelling, but Monroe Bradford is here," she
said smiling.

   "Yes, Dear," Trip said.  "Run Curley off, and send Monroe on back.  If
you leave me for either one of them, I want to be your first customer."

   It didn't dawn on Beth what he said until several minutes later.  He
said he wanted to watch her dance and be her first customer if she...she
felt herself flush and was aware that she was moist between her legs.

   It was later, after lunch, that she had an opportunity to talk with
Trip.

   "Can you believe what Monroe said?" she asked.  "The man must be out of
his mind."

   "Why do you say that," Trip asked.  "You can dance can't you?" She
nodded.  "That's all there is to it.  You dance and slowly take your
clothes off."

   "Yeah, but surely the men pay to see a young, nubile woman strip.  Who
would pay to see a forty year old woman disrobe?"

   "Now Beth, you are making generalities again.  Some men would rather
watch a sexually mature woman perform, then a young girl who doesn't really
know her own body.  It's the same with Curley's profession.  Sexual
maturity is a great selling point, my dear.  Oh, that reminds me.  Would
you mind going to my apartment and picking up my other briefcase for me?  I
walked out, and forgot it this morning."

   "Of course I will.  Where do you live?"

   "Up on the top floor.  Of course, you have never been in my apartment,
have you?  Here's the key.  I think the briefcase in on the desk.  If not,
look around for it.  It's there somewhere."

   Wow, Beth thought as she looked around the apartment.  It was huge and
luxuriously furnished with antiques and fine art work.  On one wall there
were two large photographs.  Both were white women, and both were nude. 
For an irrational moment Beth was jealous of them.  She located the
briefcase in the master bedroom.  It was laying on a huge bed which was
twice as big as her own king-size bed.  It had to be custom made, she
thought.

   "You have a beautiful home Trip," Beth said handing him the brief case
he had not needed at all.  "Can I ask you a personal question?"

   "Of course you can, dear Beth," he said.  "I may choose not to answer,
but you certainly may ask."

   "The two large photographs on the living room wall..."

   "Oh yes, the blonde lady is Wendy and the other one is Jan.  I see that
it is about quitting time, isn't it?"

   "Yes sir," Beth said.  "Jan?  Is that the Jan that worked here before
me?"

   "Yes, and Wendy worked here before Jan."

   "You have your former employees nude picture on your living room wall?"

   "Yes I do," Trip said.  "Do you find that strange?"

   Beth didn't answer him.  She finished up her work and left for the day.
The thought and mental image of the two nude white women occupied her
thoughts as she drove home.  Strange?  Maybe it was strange.  Maybe bizarre
was more like it.

   ***

   "What if he wants to hang my nude photograph on his wall?" Beth asked
Norm.  They were sitting at the dinner table, having just finished the
meal.

   "Be sure to wet your lips," Nor said with a smile.  "All of them."

   "Be serious, Norman," she snapped.  "Don't you find that it weird he has
former employees nude photographs displayed on his wall?" Norm knew that
Beth had "accidentally" seen the photographs, because Trip had called him
at the school.  Trip had warned him that Beth may need soothing over the
discovery.

   'No, not really," Norm said.  "Apparently he held both of them in high
regard.  They weren't tacky were they?"

   "I don't know about that," she said.  "They looked like they were
professionally done, if that's what you mean."

   "I think you are worried about nothing to be worried about.  Hey
speaking of photos, I brought the school's digital camera home.  Want to
practice?"

   "I do not!" Beth snapped.  "You or no one else is going to take naked
pictures of me, and that's final!"

   Persistency paid off for Norm.  Before the night was over he had taken
several photos of Beth.  Not totally nude, but topless and some near nude.
He printed them out on his small printer.  Not professional, but still
nice.

   "You really do have nice tits, Beth," Norm said handing her one of the
pictures.  "Big, but not too big.  Nice ass, too."

   Beth looked at the photo and didn't comment.  She compared her photo
with what she remembered of the two hanging in Trip's apartment.  She
thought she may even look better then they did.  Of course she would never
verbalize that thought.

   "Why don't you trim your bush up some.  Make a landing strip or an arrow
pointing to your pussy?" Norm suggested.  "Then you could wear that bathing
suit I bought for you last year."

   "That little thing?" Beth said laughing.  "I don't think so."

   ***

   "I hope you are not unhappy about the photographs you saw yesterday,"
Trip told her.  It was late morning.  Trip had gone directly to court early
that morning, and it was their first meeting of the day.

   "Of course not," Beth said.  "Many art forms include nudity.  It's your
wall and your apartment, after all." She handed the lawyer a fresh cup of
coffee.  "I gather you were close to your former employees."

   "Oh yes," he said.  "Like family...well, not exactly family, that would
be too odd, wouldn't it?  Have you ever modeled?"

   "Me?  Oh, no," her face flushed.  Trip had spoken to Norm and he knew
about the photos Norm had taken the night before.  "I couldn't do that. 
You mean nude, I suppose?"

   "Yes nude.  I love to see the feminine form undraped.  I personally
believe it makes a woman more womanly.  I have a large collection of photos
that I have gathered over the years, if you would care to see it sometime."

   Beth didn't answer.  She got back to work and the subject didn't come up
for another couple of days.  It was late in the workday and Beth was
straightening up her desk when Trip came out of his office.

   "Trip, you mentioned a collection of art photos.  I was thinking that it
might be interesting," Beth said.  "Why don't you bring some in tomorrow?"

   "We don't have to wait until the morrow," Trip said.  "We can go up
right now.  I have a wonderful wine, I've been dieing to share with someone
with good taste.  A fine wine or a cold beer is all the same to Curley or
Monroe."

   Beth shut off the warning bells that were clanging in her mind.  "Sure,
I do like a glass of good wine."

   ***

   "Sit here, Beth," Trip said indicating one end of a long couch.  "The
light is excellent here.  I'll be right back with the art work." He was
back within a few minutes with two large photo albums and the wine.  "You
look at these and I'll go make a few personal calls that I forgot to make."

   Beth slowly flipped through the first album.  Trip had a wide and varied
collection of nudes.  Most were white women and most of those were older
women, thirty and over.  One was apparently a woman of sixty or older. 
From the next room she heard Trip talking to someone.

   She finished the first album, and picked up the second one.  Her hands
froze on the first page.  It wasn't art photos, it was just plain
pornography.  Her brain screamed at her to lay the book down and flee, but
her hand turned the page.  There were page after page of pictures of white
women in every possible form of sex with black men.  She recognized Jan and
Wendy.  There were other white women she didn't recognize.  She also
recognized Curley and Monroe as well as Trip in the pictures.  Her heart
was racing and her mouth was suddenly dry.  She reached for the wine glass
with trembling hands.  After several gulps of the wine she turned the page
again.  The picture that she saw was larger than the others.  An eight by
ten, she assumed.  It showed Trip about to enter a woman who's face wasn't
shown.  He had his large black cock poised at the very opening of the
glistening slit.  Her eyes locked onto the image of Trips dick.  Long,
thick and veined.  It looked fearsome to her.  Fearsome and attractive at
the same time.  She made herself continue on through the album.  There was
a photo of Monroe, Curley and Jan.  They both were in the woman.  She
looked closer and saw that they both had their cocks in her pussy.  Other
photos were of one or the other white women with a black cock in their
mouth while being screwed by another man.  Men and women in every
conceivable position.  Some she couldn't have conceived of.  Beth was all
too aware that she was lubricating freely.  Her pussy was soaking, and she
thought she might even leave a trace of her moisture on the couch cushion.

   "Oh my," she heard Trip say.  "I picked up the wrong album.  Forgive me,
Beth." He reached for the album she had on her lap.  "I made a dreadful
mistake.  Let me take that." She ignored him and continued leafing through
the album.  She was not even aware he poured her another glass of wine,
until he handed it to her.  When she reached the end she closed the cover
and sipped her wine.  She knew her face was flushed.

   "I'm so sorry, dear Beth," Trip said.  "You discovered my vice.  One of
my vices, anyway.  Will you forgive me?" She nodded, not looking at him. 
She opened the album back to the large photo of him about to enter the
woman.

   "When was this taken?" she asked softly.

   He leaned over to look.  "A year, maybe fourteen months, ago."

   "You don't look like an old man in this picture," she stated.

   "You can't see my face that well," the said with a smile.

   "But the part of you I can see, doesn't look like an old man," she
insisted.

   "Ah yes, better living through chemistry," he said.  "Viagra is the
wonder drug of this century." She didn't comment, but started flipping back
through the album.

   "Do Curley and Monroe use Viagra?" she asked, not knowing why she asked.
She just felt it necessary to ask questions.

   "Oh my, no," he answered with a laugh.  "They are both a lot younger
than I.  They haven't felt the ravages of age yet."

   "Is the woman, in the big photo, Jan?"

   "Yes it is.  Jan was aware of my needs, and she also knew I would not
frequent prostitutes.  She was a sweet girl."

   "Why did you let her go?  I mean since she provided you this special
service."

   "I didn't let her go," Trip said.  "She had to go.  She had to spread
her wings and fly."

   "Like a canary?" Beth murmured.  "She left the cage and flew away."

   "Exactly," Trip said.  "I couldn't hold her back."

   "Apparently she performed the same service for Curley and Monroe," Beth
said now looking at her employer.

   "I don't mean to be crude, Beth," Trip said.  "I like sex, Curley and
Monroe like sex, Jan discovered she liked sex., as did Wendy before her. 
Consenting adults, my dear.  We all found we liked sex, and so we indulged
ourselves.  Frankly, Jan liked to fuck black men, and we like to fuck white
women, so we fucked each other."

   "I have to go home," Beth said jumping to her feet.  Without any further
words, she left the apartment and drove home.

   ***

   "You seem awfully quiet this evening," Norm said to his wife.  "Is
anything the matter?"

   "No, I'm just tired is all." She had came to bed wearing only a large
tee shirt.  "Nothing that a good nights rest won't cure."

   "How about a good nights rest after some hard fucking first?" he asked
her.

   "Even better," she admitted.  "Fuck me as hard as you can, Norm."

   "Okay," he said.  He knew from Trips phone call that Beth had seen a lot
of photographs of white women being fucked by black men.  He jerked the tee
shirt off of and leaped on her.  He grabbed one breast, and with his other
hand opened her pussy up.  She was wet.  "I'll black fuck you," he
whispered in her ear.  "I'll jam my cock in you and fuck you like a black
man would."

   She moaned and reached for his stiff rod.  "Put it in me.  Hurry Norm,
fuck me like a black man would." As he shoved his stiffness into her, she
saw Trip's large black cock in her mind.

   After the mind-blowing sex they lay still for a while, basking in the
afterglow of the sex.

   "I think I should quit," she said.

   "Why?"

   "I think Trip expects something of me that I'm not sure I want to give."

   "Such as..."

   "I think he going to want sex with me." She said nestling down against
him.  "That seems to be a pattern for him."

   "What the hell could an old man do?" Norm scoffed.  "Anyway, that's your
job, to give aid and comfort to your boss.  What's the big deal?" He felt
her stiffen.  "What would be so wrong in giving the old guy a little
lovin'?"

   "Are you serious?" she demanded, sitting bolt upright in the bed.  "Are
you suggestion that I have sex with Trip?"

   "All I'm saying is, don't be such a prude.  Come on out of the cage, and
fly."

   Sleep was a long time coming to Beth.  She was angry at Norm, at Trip,
and at herself.  She wanted to scream at Norm that if she began to fly, all
he might see was her tail feathers in the distance.  She knew that was
foolish, and that she wouldn't leave her husband.  When she finally dozed
off she was seeing the picture of Curley and Monroe with theirs cocks in
Jan's pussy and the look of pure pleasure on the woman's face.  Beth Adams
went to sleep a very confused woman.

   ***

   Beth was no less confused as she made coffee in the law office the
following morning.  Her mind was a kaleidoscope of thoughts and images. 
She didn't turn around when she heard the door open.

   "Good morning, Beth," Trip said.  "Am I still in the doghouse?"

   "What makes you think you were ever in the doghouse?" she asked turning
to look at him.

   "I just assumed that from your hurried departure yesterday afternoon."

   "No, you aren't in a doghouse," she said.  "Coffee will be ready in a
few minutes.  I'll bring you a cup."

   When she sat his cup on the desk Beth, cleared her throat and said,
"That wasn't an accident was it?  You showed me the album on purpose,
didn't you?"

   "Yes, I did," Trip said setting back in the chair and looking up at her.
"I wanted you to know the caliber of man you worked for."

   "Do you expect me to provide the same service that Jan and Wendy did?"

   "One remains hopeful, dear Beth.  Always hopeful."

   "What about Curley and Monroe?  Would you expect me to do for them what
I did for you?"

   "Yes," he answered simply.

   Beth turned and left his office without any other comment.  Trip
listened for the front door to open and close.  When it didn't, he gave a
sigh of relief.  This was going to work out fine, he thought.  Very good
indeed.

   Beth didn't eat lunch that day.  Instead she walked around the city
looking in the store fronts.  The afternoon proved to be very busy with
clients coming and files to be updated.

   Beth and Trip didn't have an opportunity to talk until later in the day.
She came into his office.  Trip was turned with his back to her, looking
out the window.

   "Trip can I ask you something?"

   "Of course you can," he turned back to her.

   "Have you and Norm spoken lately?  I mean since the other night at
dinner?"

   "What on earth makes you think that?" Trip asked instead of answering.

   "Norm told me I should do for you what your former secretaries did.  I
found it strange that you both should be headed in the same direction,
that's all."

   "The real question is what do you want?" the old man said.  "Forget what
Norm wants.  Forget about what I want.  What do you want, Beth?  Remember
what I told you that first day?  I told you that no one would make you do
anything you didn't want to do."

   "I remember," she murmured.  "That's the problem.  I don't know what I
want.  Part of me wants to get out of the cage, and fly, but part of me
wants to stay inside the cage where it's safe.  Sometimes when I close my
eyes I can almost see and feel you inside me.  When Norm whispers in my ear
that I'm a black cock loving slut, I feel like one.  Tell me what to do
Trip."

   "Come here, sweet little Beth," Trip said gently, rising and holding out
his arms.  "You need to be held for a minute or two."

   Beth almost ran the few feet that separated them.  Trip Washington,
smelled of Old Spice, pipe tobacco, and something that reminded her of home
and safety.  It was whiskey.  Trip Washington smelled like her dad had
smelled.  She buried her face in his shirt and enjoyed the aroma of him. 
She now knew she would give herself to this old black lawyer.  She would do
whatever he asked her to do.  She felt a familiar tingling in her tummy and
even lower.

   "Do you have to rush home?" Trip asked.

   "No, Norm is working late.  They're getting read for school to be out
for the summer."

   "Good we have some of that delightful wine left from yesterday.  Shall
we go have some?" Trip didn't wait for an answer.  He walked her out of the
office and onto the elevator.

   ***

   Trip wasted no time when they arrived at the apartment.  He could sense
that she was wavering, and he wanted to take no chances on her changing her
mind.  He had no more than closed the door when he took her in a long
embrace and deep kiss.  Using his many years of experience, he undressed
her while keeping her in his embrace.  His lips never separated from hers.
After she was stripped he backed her to the bedroom and laid her on his
massive bed.  Quickly he took off his clothing, and got on the bed beside
her.  Her chest rose and fell as she took deep breaths, her eyes were
tightly closed.  Trip took Beth's hand and put it on his swelling ebony
cock.  At the first contact her eyes flew open, and she looked to see his
cock with her own eyes.

   "Oh my God, it's huge," she said softly.  "It's monstrous.  You must
have taken a pill."

   "I must confess that I told a little white lie, Beth," Trip said with a
smile playing around his mouth.  "A minor deception, but I don't need
anything except a pussy to put my cock in."

   "Does it get any bigger?" she asked, slowly stroking the giant cock.

   "No, not much.  Just harder," Trip said.

   "This has to be the largest thing in the world," Beth said, mesmerized
by his cock.

   "Oh no, my sweet Beth," Trip said laughing.  "Curley's is longer than
mine, and Monroe's is thicker and as nearly as long as my cock.  I am only
eight inches in length.  There are several cocks around that dwarf mine. 
You shall enjoy them all sooner or later, but at this moment you are all
mine.  Do you want to suck on it?"

   Right at that moment in time, putting her mouth on his giant cock was
the most important thing in the world for her.  She sucked, licked, and
worshiped his massive rod until he pushed her down on her back and mounted
her.

   "Ahh...Oh God...oh God!" Beth yelled.  She had her legs spread and high
while the old lawyer plunged in and out of her.  She came several times,
and he showed no inclination of slowing down.  "Oh God, I love it," she
said panting.  "I love your cock, Trip, but I have to rest.  Please let's
rest a minute or two.  I'm begging you." He had fucked her for a little
over an hour.

   He pulled his wet, glistening cock out of her and rolled over to lay
beside her.  His cock was still rigid and pointed toward the ceiling.

   "My God, Trip how can you do that?  Norm is thirty years younger than
you, and he can't go but a few minutes.  I've orgasm over a dozen times."

   "Mind control," Trip said.  "It all in the mind.  Are you enjoying
yourself, Beth?"

   "Oh yes," she said laughing.  "To think, I almost backed out.  Wow! 
This is...I don't know what, but it is." She was still attempting to regain
her breath.  "You are still hard, Trip.  How can that be?  I felt you come
in me, and I'm all soggy."

   "I can keep myself hard by thinking of you and all the possibilities."

   "What possibilities?"

   "I am going to use your sweet cunt every day.  I'm going to let Curley
and Monroe use your cunt.  I'm going to watch as you get gang fucked by
many hard black cocks.  I'm going to watch you give my friends a circle
suck, and swallow a gallon of come.  I'm going to watch and thrill as the
boys double fuck your pussy.  I'm going to watch as they double fuck your
ass and your cunt, and squirt come all over your white body."

   "Oh God, Trip," Beth said, her hand reaching for her clitoris.  "I'm
getting all hot again.  You're not going to really do that are you?"

   "Oh yes I am," trip said, pulling her over onto him.  "Ride the pony,
you white slut.  And another thing, bitch," he said as she slid down on his
cock.  "All the time I'm watching you fuck black cock after black cock,
Norm will be watching with me.  We both will watch our white slut get
fucked in every hole that is big enough to take a cock." Beth started
climaxing and didn't stop for two full minutes.  Just as she ended her
orgasmic convulsion, Trip ejected a load of come in her, sending her into
another long orgasm.

   Beth didn't get home until after seven-thirty that night.  She barely
made it through the door and into the bedroom.

   "My God Beth, what happened to you?" Norm said.  He had been laying on
the bed reading.  He had just hung up from talking to Trip.

   "I been fucked," she stated bluntly.  "Trip Washington has been fucking
me all afternoon."

   "Really?" Norm said getting off the bed.  "Let me draw you a bath.  And
while you soak you can tell me all about it." Beth wasn't in a
conversational mood, so while Beth soaked in the tub, Norm fixed her a
light dinner.  She made an appearance in the kitchen after nearly a half an
hour.  She looked much more tranquil then she had.

   "Do you want to talk about it?" Norm asked after she finished her meal.

   "Yes...and no," she confessed.  "I don't know what I want to do.  It's
like I am two different people.  Here in my kitchen, I'm Beth Adams,
housewife and mother.  This afternoon in Trips apartment, I was Beth, the
slut.  The whore who was committing adultery."

   "Did you enjoy it?"

   After a long moments thought, she nodded, "Yes I did.  I loved every
minute of it.  He's a powerful loved, age not withstanding.  It was almost
non-stop sex with him." She was silent a moment.  "He told me things. 
Things that were going to happen to me, and I have to confess they were
scary things."

   "Like what?"

   "He told me that he would share me with Curley and Monroe, and other
men, too.  He told me that I would have to do all sorts of things with
them. Trip said that I would be gang fucked.  He told me that he would
watch while I was fucked by these men.  He told me that he would sell my
pussy to strangers," She paused and gave Norm a steady look.  "He also said
that you would be watching, too.  Is that what you want?"

   "Yes it is, Beth," Norm said taking her hand.  "It's been my dream, my
fantasy, for many years.  I have to witness it myself to actually believe
it's happening."

   "Norm," she said tears running down her face.  "It may ruin our
marriage. Don't you know that?"

   "I know it won't ruin anything, Beth.  Change things?  Yes I suppose
so," he answered squeezing her hand.  "Nothing can ruin our marriage.  I
have loved you all these years and I'll continue to love you.  I expect
that we'll have another forty or fifty years together.  At least now we'll
have something interesting to talk about when we are old and grey.  So tell
me, was the old guy hung?"

   "God yes!" she said wiping the tears away.  "He's a liar, too.  He
doesn't have any erectile problems.  He got hard and stayed that way all
afternoon." Her laughter was choked.  "He came in me three or maybe four
times, and it never got completely soft."

   "Lucky bastard," Norm mumbled.  "So what about tomorrow?"

   "Trip told me to not wear panties or bra to work anymore.  He's going to
send me somewhere to have my pubic hair removed permanently.  How do you
feel about that?"

   "Good, I hate picking hair out of my teeth.  Did you get enough fucking
today, or do you have something left for me?"

   "I'll always have something for you, Norm...  always," she said.  "Come
on to bed, and I'll prove it."

   Chapter 10

   The following morning, Beth arrived at the law office at her regular
time.  Trip had the coffee already going and she poured herself a cup.  It
felt strange not be wearing a bra or panties under her dress.  Strange, but
also exciting.

   "Good morning, Beth," Trip called from his office.  "Come here and let
me feast my eyes on you." She sat her coffee down on the desk and went into
his office.  "Ah, don't you look great?  I can see you have no bra on,
because I can see your nipples showing through the dress.  Raise your dress
and let me see your pussy." Without hesitation she did as he requested. 
"Beautiful, Beth" he said, motioning her to come closer, which she also
did. He gently parted her labia and teased her clit.  Beth knew she was
moist, because she had been all morning.  She gasped, then moaned when he
plunged a finger fully into her.  He continued to finger her until she
trembled with a small orgasm.  He withdrew his finger and licked it clean.
"Now to work with you.  I noticed we have several clients scheduled for
this morning."

   Back at her desk, Beth used a tissue to blot her secretion .  She
reapplied some cologne and made ready to start her work day.  Norm had sent
her off to work after giving her a very satisfactory orgasm and her
employer had given her another.  There were worse ways to start the day,
she thought.

   Trip's last appointment left at three o'clock.  Without comment she
followed Trip up to his apartment, where he once again fucked her, until
she was as limp as a rag doll.  The next day was more or less a repeat, as
was the following day.  It wasn't until Friday that things changed.

   "I'm on my way to court," Trip informed her.  "You won't be going home
tonight.  I called Norm and told him.  I want you to go see Mindy this
afternoon.  She knows what I want you to get.  Be wearing one of the
outfits when I get in.  Use your key and let yourself into the apartment. I
should be through in court by five.  We are expecting guests tonight."

   Guests?  Beth felt a prickling of excitement along with some trepidation
run through her.  During her lunch break she went to the dress shop.  Her
anxiety level soared when she saw what Mindy had picked out for her.  She
wasn't even sure the outfits were street legal.  One little skirt barely
covered her butt cheeks and the top didn't cover all of her breasts. 
Another was a long dress that went all the way to the floor, but was
transparent.  Her body could be plainly be seen through it.

   "I don't suppose I'm to wear anything under either of these," Beth said
to Mindy.

   "Of course not," the woman said laughing.  "That would spoil the effect.
You have the figure for both of these outfits.  Nice round boobs that stick
out of that top.  You'll be the belle of the ball."

   Beth looked at the woman, "I suppose you know Trip pretty well, huh?"

   "Oh, hell yes," Mindy said.  "Me and that old fart go way back.  He was
my first black dude.  I was just sixteen and hot to fuck.  I wasn't a
virgin by any stretch, but I felt like it when he got through with me.  I
was sore for a week.  I don't guess he's slowed down any, huh?"

   "I don't know how he was," Beth said, her face turning red.  "I can't
imagine him being any better than he is now."

   "Your hubby okay with this?' Mindy asked.  She laughed at Beth's
expression.  "Don't look so surprised.  You're wearing a wedding band,
honey.  I knew when you came in here that first day that you would soon be
Trips woman.  I've seen them come, and I've seen them go.  I knew that Jan
what's-her-name wouldn't make it.  Her old man went berserk when he found
out.  So, how long has Trip been porking you?"

   "A few days," Beth said.  She was very uncomfortable with the
conversation, but she felt she could learn some important things from
Mindy.

   "Ah," the woman said with a big grin.  "Has he turned you over to his
two cronies yet?" Beth shook her head.  "Let me guess.  Tonight is the
night, isn't it?  The new hot outfits are a dead giveaway.  Honey, you
obviously like to fuck, or you would have ran like a dog the first day. 
You are in for a treat.  Those two know how to fuck a woman.  Let me give
you a little advice.  Go with the flow.  Between Curley, Monroe, and Trip,
you'll go places you never dreamed possible, and you'll fly higher than you
ever imagined."

   "I gather you also know Curley and Monroe," Beth said.

   "Oh sure.  I danced at Monroe's place a while, and I turned tricks for
Curley.  I still do some specialized work for him from time to time."

   "Specialized work?"

   "Yeah, gangbangs and things like that.  Any party where they want an
older woman.  If it's a cock, black, and hard, I'm ready.  My old man,
likes to watch me take on eight or ten black fuckers.  Has your old man
seen you fuck yet?"

   "No," Beth said.  "Not yet.  He says he wants to, but I don't know if he
really does."

   "Believe me," Mindy said.  "If he says he does, he does.  You're lucky
that he understands.  I am too.  Poor Jan got fucked all the way around. 
You eat pussy?" The question caught Beth completely off guard.

   "What?" she stammered.

   "Oh, you haven't...yet.  Better get ready for it, Sugar.  Trip likes to
see his women eat pussy.  If you want to practice, give me a call.  I'll
let you suck my cunt anytime."

   Beth was nearly running when she left the store.  The very idea.  No sex
with women, she told herself.  There are some thing I'm just not going to
do.

   Chapter 11

   "Now, don't you look good," Trip said, admiring his secretary.  Beth had
chosen the short skirt and top that barely covered her.  "Walk around and
let me feast my old eyes on you." She did as he commanded.  He had her stop
and lift the top to expose her breasts.  He also had her bend over causing
the short skirt to rise up and expose her behind.  "Outstand, dear Beth,"
he exclaimed.  "Absolutely grand.  You have a body to be admired and
fucked."

   "There was some food delivered a little while ago," Beth told him,
blushing at his compliment.  "I put it in your refrigerator."

   "Ah, yes," he said removing his jacket and tie.  "Not only do I have to
share your delightful pussy with Curley and Monroe, I have to feed them as
well." He walked over and took her in his arms.  "You smell good also,
Beth. You have the sent of a woman in heat.  Are you ready for the boys?  I
heard the elevator stop." Beth wasn't sure if she was ready or not.  It all
seemed like a dream to her.

   "By God would you look at that!" Monroe said when he and Curley entered
the apartment.  "Holy shit!"

   "I'm looking," Curley said apparently in awe as he gazed at the pretty
white woman standing before them.  "I'm looking, and I'm not sure I really
believe what I see.  She's prettier than Jan and Wendy ever were."

   "Show the boys your tits, Beth," Trip ordered.  She raised the top and
displayed her breasts to the eyes of the two men.  Her heart was racing and
she could feel the pounding of her pulse through out her body.  "Now your
pussy, Beth.  Lift the skirt and show them what they'll be sticking their
cocks into." Again she complied with the orders.  Now Beth, Take Curley and
Monroe into the bedroom and let them enjoy the pleasures of your body." It
didn't even cross her mind to refuse or hesitate.  She turned and went into
the bedroom.  The two black men hurried after her.

   For the next three quarters of an hour Curley and Monroe took turns with
her.  Monroe was the first to take her anally.  In spite of his crude
demeanor, he was gentle with her, taking his time, making sure she was
comfortable with his cock.  Curley helped by distracting her with his cock
in her mouth.

   Beth wasn't aware of the passage of time.  Time was measured by her
body's response to the sensual pleasure the two men gave her.  Time was
calculated by orgasms, not minutes or hours.  Earlier she had noticed Trip
watching them, but soon forgot about the watcher.  She was unaware that
night had fallen, and it was when she got off the bed to visit the bathroom
that she saw Norm, sitting beside the old black lawyer.  Norm was smiling
broadly.

   "How long have you been here?" Beth asked after returning from the
toilet.

   "Couple of hours," Norm replied.

   "I knew he wanted to watch you," Trip said.  "He seemed to like what he
saw."

   "I did like what I saw.  You looked like you were enjoying yourself,"
Norm said still grinning.

   "Come over here and sit on my cock," Trip told her.  He had pulled his
cock from his pants.  "Let your husband see my cock penetrate your cunt,
close up and personal."

   With her back to the lawyer, Beth settled down on the man's cock.  Norm
came around and knelt down to inspect the connection of white pussy and
black cock.  By then Beth had no difficulty taking the man's cock all the
way inside her.

   "Suck on her beautiful tits, Norm," the lawyer said.  "Bite her nipples
while she rides my cock." Thus started another round of debauchery.  The
four men fucked Beth in every possible combination.  At one time she was
being serviced by all four.  Monroe in her ass, Curley in her pussy, Trip
in her mouth, while Norm sucked on her hard nipples.

   They broke for a rest about midnight, ate a bite, showered and were back
at it by one o'clock in the morning.  Beth called a halt to the fun and
games about three o'clock, claiming her pussy and ass was too sore to
continue.  The others went home or back to their business, leaving Beth,
their brand new slut, peacefully sleeping on the huge cum soaked bed.

   THE END

   Beth's Two Different Worlds

   by shooter3704 (C)

   (Author's note: I left bobfr's name off of this part of the story
because it is mostly mine.  His characters and plot, but my story.  I'm
sure he would have done a much better job and I wish he would come out of
retirement.  I miss him...Shooter)

   I'm Beth Adams, wife to Norm Adams and slut for Trip Washington, et al.
How did I, a middle-aged housewife, become a slut for a black lawyer?  A
question I have asked myself many times over the past few months.  In a
relatively short period of time I had gone from housewife to slut for black
men.  I thought it was interesting that I could accept it so blas�.  I
won't pretend that there weren't moments that I didn't feel ashamed of
myself.  For the first forty years of my life I was a straight arrow.  I
was a model of how to be a good person.  I made sure my taxes were paid,
voted, joined the PTA, I didn't do drugs, drank moderately, I obeyed the
law and I was faithful to my husband.  I didn't even break the speed
limits.

   Our only chick had flown from the nest and joined the Marine Corps. 
Norm encouraged me to get out of the house and seek employment.  I
understood why.  I had became dull as dishwater.  I hadn't became frumpy,
but I could see myself headed in that direction.

   One day I found an ad that said: Wanted: Receptionist/Assistant to an
attorney.  No experience required, will train.  Call 303-555-3456 for an
interview.

   With no skills other then being a wife, housekeeper and mother, I called
and made an appointment and was shocked to find the lawyer was an older
black man.  Jasper Washington the third.  I was also shocked when I got the
job.

   Mister Washington, or Trip as he preferred to be called, is the attorney
to a large group of unsavory people.  Among them are Monroe Bradford, a
strip club owner and Tilman "Curley" Wilson, who is a pimp.  Besides being
clients, the three of them were old friends.

   During the first week I tried to resign several times.  I would have
except that Norm insisted I give the arrangement a fair chance.  In all
honesty I found the work exciting but unsettling.  The daily contact with
the drags of society bothered me.  Both Curly and Monroe hit on me anytime
they got close enough.  Unsettling, but also it made me feel like a
desirable woman again.

   After six months and using my keen hindsight I can appreciate how smooth
the seduction really was.  Norm help them seduce me and I'll admit that I
was ripe for the plucking.

   At first I felt terrible that I submitted to Trip's advances.  I felt
like the lowest kind of adulteress and totally unfit to be a wife or
mother. Norm was gentle and wonderful.  He helped me through the storm.

   Sex with Trip quickly became an everyday thing and it wasn't long before
he gave me to Curly and Monroe.  Group sex became the norm and Trip greatly
enjoyed watching his two cronies fuck me.  Trip is a self-confessed voyeur
and my husband apparently is also.

   During the past six months I have had more sex than the previous six
years and Norm and I have always had an active sex life.  I have to laugh
when I hear other working women grip about having to go to work.  I can't
hardly wait to get to the office to see what awaits me there.

   This is where my story really begins.

   "Good morning, sweet Beth," Trip called from inside his office "Have you
recovered from your night of debauchery?" He was referring to the previous
night when he, Curly, and Monroe fucked me for over three hours.  I had to
smile as I recalled the last thing Trip said as I left them.  He told me
that I was the best piece of ass that he had ever had.  I wasn't sure I
believed him, but I liked to hear it.  One thing about working for Trip
Washington is that he does everything first class.  He paid to have all my
pubic hair electronically removed.  He arranged for me to have implanted
birth control.  He makes sure I have plenty of new slut clothing, also.

   "Sufficiently," I answered.  "Have you?"

   "Sufficiently," he called back with his deep laugh.  "When is Norm
getting back?"

   "Not for a couple of days," I answered going into his office and
refilling his coffee cup.  Norm had taken some of his brightest students to
Washington on a special class trip.  "He called late last night to check on
me.  He said they were all having a good time seeing the sights.  You have
a court appearance at ten and another at one.  The files are on my desk."

   "Ah yes I have to go defend the downtrodden from the machinery of the
legal system," Trip said leaning back in his chair and looking up at me. 
"I swear, Beth, you are better looking now than the day you arrived in this
office."

   "I've lost a few pounds," I answered.  "That may account for it." That
and the fact that Trip sent me to a beauty salon twice a week and a gym
once a week.  I also discovered that sex is good exercise.

   "I'm sure that helps, but I detect an inter beauty that wasn't there
before.  There is a gleam in your eyes, also.  I wonder if it could be the
sex?"

   I smiled at him and left his office.  If there was any thing new about
me, it had to be the sex, but I wasn't going to stroke his ego and comment
on it.

   In a little while Trip gathered up the files and started out of the
door. "Since you don't have to rush home to your husband, I took the
liberty of arranging for dinner.  Is that all right?"

   "Fine, where are we going?"

   "It's a surprise, Beth," Trip said smiling as he left the office.  "I'll
see you after my one o'clock."

   Shortly before noon I locked up the office and went to lunch.  I got a
sandwich and took it to a small park just down the block.  As I ate I
watched the people and fed crumbs to a friendly pigeon.

   "What would they think, bird?" I asked the pigeon.  "These people that
come by me, what do you suppose they would think about me if they knew what
I was doing?  Who I really was?  That I let, no, that I encouraged, three
men besides my husband to have sex with me.  Would they look at me
differently?  Yes, you're right they certainly would.  That man over there
on that bench that glancing over his paper at me for example.  Would he be
shocked?  Would he be titillated?  Would he run from the park to get away
from the likes of me?  How about that black man over there?  What do you
suppose he would think if he knew I cavorted with black men?" I laughed at
my foolishness.  "Yeah, what do you know?  You are just a bird.  A free
flying free bird just like me," I scatter the rest of the sandwich on the
bench for the bird and slowly made my way back to the office.

   I was surprised to see a woman waiting beside the locked door.

   "Hi, can I help you?" I asked as I approached the woman.

   "Yes, I hope so.  Is the lawyer available?"

   "No, he's in court.  I don't expect him back until later this afternoon.
Is there something I can help you with?"

   "No...yes...maybe," the woman said.  "I think I need a lawyer and Mister
Washington was recommended to me by Monroe."

   "Come on in," I said unlocking the door.  "Monroe Bradford?"

   "Yeah, I just started working for him yesterday.  You know at his club.
I went down to the courthouse to get my permit and they wouldn't give it to
me." I knew that everybody working in the adult entertainment business had
to have a city permit.  Everyone except the prostitutes and they couldn't
get legal permission to work their trade.  I thought that was strange.

   "Why is that, did they say?"

   "The man at the counter said that I wasn't old enough to dance nude."

   "Are you old enough?" She looked about fifteen to me, but I knew that
couldn't be right.  Monroe was very careful about his employees.  Also at
my age everybody looks too damned young.

   "Yeah, I'm eighteen and I showed him my drivers license, but he still
said no way."

   I got the clerks name and called the courthouse.  After ten minutes of
holding I was finally connected to the chief clerk.  I told him the problem
and he said to send the girl back and ask for him personally and that he
would take care of it.  She left and I made a note to charge Monroe for the
service.

   The rest of the afternoon was filled with filing, phone calls and taking
messages.  Trip came back just after three thirty.  I filled him in on my
afternoon.  He laughed when I told him about the dancer and her permit
problems.

   "So you took care of that for me?  Good, but I better be careful or
you'll be trying cases in court before long." I assured him that it wasn't
very likely.  Over the past few months I learned that most legal problems
can be taken care of on the telephone and I learned how to handle some of
them.  "Bill Monroe for an hour of my time."

   About four thirty a messenger delivered a large flat box that was
addressed to me.  I opened it to find a beautiful but naughty evening
dress, The top was so sheer that I knew my nipples as well as most of my
breasts would be plainly visible.

   "Ah, good.  It arrived," Trip said coming out of his office.  "I was
hoping it would."

   "Thank you Trip, but where on earth could I ever wear this dress?  It
leaves nothing to the imagination."

   "Nor should it, Beth.  You have beautiful breasts and they should be
admired.  I got you this dress to wear tonight."

   "But where, Trip?  I still have a few shreds of modesty left." What
little I clung to were fast eroding.

   "Tonight we are going to the annual meeting of the Black Knights."

   "And what, pray tell, are the Black Knights?"

   "It is a select group of black businessmen from our area.  We have a
quarterly meetings and then once a year a big formal dinner.  Tonight is
when we all show off our eye candy.  You will be the belle of the ball." I
wasn't sure how I felt about that.  I didn't know if I should be flattered
or annoyed.  "For the past five years I went stag," Trip said.  "I asked
Norm if it would be all right to ask you to accompany me.  This year I
wanted to show you off to the others.  Please say you'll go with me." The
annoyance went away quickly.  Now I knew I was truly flattered.

   "Of course I will, but if you had mentioned it earlier I could have had
my hair done."

   "Janie is waiting on you right now," Trip told me with a smile.  "I made
you an appointment.  Hurry along, dear."

   By seven o'clock I was ready to go.  I still had a lot of reservations
about the see through dress, but I rationalized that I didn't know a soul
that would be there.  If Trip wanted my boobs to show then show them I
would.  I asked Trip if Curley and Monroe would be there and he laughed. 
We were in a long black limo and on our way.

   "No and I would appreciate it if you didn't mention it to either of
them. They are always miffed that the Black Knights won't let them join."

   "The Black Knights don't allow Pimps or strip club owners?"

   "Hardly," Trip said laughing.  "You will find black professional men
there tonight.  Of course Curley and Monroe think they are in the
professional crowd, but I'm talking about judges, lawyers, doctors, and
other successful men.  We pride ourselves on being discriminating and
frankly we are chauvinists.  There are no professional black women in the
Black Knights.  Tonight you will see many women, but as I said, they are
just eye candy.  I'm sure there will be a few actresses and a couple other
celebrity women, but for the most part they all will stand in awe of your
beauty."

   "No wives, I assume," I said laughing at his overt flattery.

   "Oh no," Trip said fainting shock.  "It was nearly ten years ago that a
man brought his own wife.  That faux pas is still spoken of.  No, I'm sure
there will be some married women there, but not married to their escort. 
Tonight is the Black Knight's show and tell."

   "Is there some sort of protocol?"

   "No, not for you.  You just be your charming and sensual self."

   "I'm not sure exactly what you mean by sensual.  Could you explain it to
me?"

   "You only have to remember that you are a sexual woman," Trip said. 
"These are successful and powerful men, used to getting things their own
way.  Don't be offended by any comment or suggestion.  Tonight I will offer
your body to several of these men.  Take them as they come, so to speak. 
Any one of these men can be a valuable friend or a terrible enemy."

   "Trip, is this a dinner or an orgy?"

   "Both," he said with a laugh.  "The first part of the evening will be
very formal and later it will get going.  Some of the men will leave before
it gets into full swing.  After the dinner those that remain will be the
party people.  Tonight, dear Beth, you will be fucked by several very
powerful black men." I couldn't help but shiver at his words.  Fear?  No it
was anticipation, of that I was sure.

   We arrived at the hotel which was located nearly ten miles out of the
city near a large lake.  A resort hotel one would image although I had
never heard of it.  The Black Knights had reserved the whole place for
their exclusive use.

   As Trip predicted the first part of the evening was strictly formal. 
The dinner was scrumptious and all the men and women were beautiful in
black tie and lovely gowns.  I found that mine were not the only breast
that were visible.  I estimated that there were about two hundred people
for the dinner and the award speeches afterwards.  Then suddenly the place
was a lot less crowded.  There were only about fifty or sixty people there.
The hotel employees also thinned out.  I noticed that there were only about
five or six men and women serving drinks where there had been dozens of
them.

   "Trip, my good friend," a portly man said coming to our table.  "How
good to see you and..." he had Trips hand, but his eyes were on my chest. I
had gotten used to the men talking to my nipples during the pre-dinner
drinks and during the meal.  I didn't feel any insult, after all I had them
right there in their eyes, didn't I?  "...This lovely creature.  Introduce
me to her, Washington."

   "Of course Charles," Trip said.  "This is Beth Adams.  Beth this is the
honorable Charles Bath, Judge of the Superior Court.  I used the term
honorable with some reservation," he added in a dry tone.

   "She is lovely, Trip," The judge said still addressing my nipples his
eyes only a rare flicker toward my face.  "I certainly hope I will see her
later.  Will I see her later, Trip?"

   "Of course Judge, if you wish," Trip said.  "We will be hosting a small
party in our suite later.  You will be most welcome." The short chubby man
smiled at my boobs and left.

   "That is the second most powerful black man in the whole state," Trip
said softly.

   "Who is the most powerful?" I had to ask.

   "He's Congressman Tomas Bickford and he's coming this way," Trip
whispered.  I looked up to see a tall very black man who appeared to be
shoving people out of his way to reach us.

   "Good evening Tom," Trip said as the man reached us.  "Are you having a
good time tonight?"

   "Yes I am," The man said.  "Hello," he said to me.  "I'm Thomas Bickford
and you are one hot woman."

   "Thank you, sir," I answered.  "I'm Beth Adams and you are one hot man."
He stared at me moment then put his head back and laughed loudly.  He
apparently wasn't put off by my flip comment.  "Very good," he said taking
a seat beside me.  "Where on earth did you find this lovely lady?"

   "She works for me," Trip answered smiling.

   "You are one lucky man, Trip," Bickford said.

   "Yes I am.  How are things in Washington, Congressman?"

   "Fucked up as usual," the man answered.  "How are things in the legal
profession?"

   "The same, but not so much since Beth came to my assistance.  You are
invited to an intimate party Beth and I will be hosting later."

   "Wild horses couldn't keep me away," the man said.  "But in the mean
while may I borrow your lovely lady for a few moments.  I want to make a
couple fellows insanely jealous."

   "Of course," Trip said.  "We will need a couple others besides you and
Judge Bath if you run across someone you wouldn't mind parting with."

   "Wonderful!" the congressman said getting to his feet and helping me up.
"Always nice to have something to offer the boys.  Come, Beth, let me show
you off a bit."

   That was exactly what he did.  We went from group to group.  Frankly I
was a little surprised at the number of women that were still there.  I
wasn't too surprised that most of the women were much younger than I. 
Young and beautiful.  Most of them were white women and most of them gave
me looks of pure envy because I was on Congressman Thomas Brickford's arm.
At some point during the tour I was upgraded from secretary to office
manager for Trip Washington.  I was totally aware that Tomas Bickford kept
a possessive hand on my butt the whole time.

   The circuit of the ballroom took about half an hour and I was handed
many glasses of champagne.  By the time Thomas got me back to Trip, I was
giddy from the wine and the attention.  It was confusing to me why I, a
middle age woman, should be getting the kind of attention I was getting.

   "Trip, I took the liberty of inviting Jerry Summer and Roy Godsey to
your party.  The five of us are enough, don't you think?"

   "Yes, I'm sure Beth can entertain us in fine style, can't you dear?" It
took a moment for it to sink in what he meant.  I wasn't sure how to
answer. I muttered something and nodded my head.  Thomas and I were still
standing by the table and I felt Thomas's arm encircle my waist and his
hand come to rest on my breast.

   "I'm eager to see these lovely titties without that material being in
the way," Thomas said teasing my nipple.

   "Not a problem," trip said.  "The sheer material is removable.  Take it
off and let her charms show for everybody to enjoy." I had wondered why the
dress was put together like it was.  The top was only attached by thin
strips of Velcro.  It took Thomas only a few seconds to remove it and
expose my breasts to anyone who cared to look, and apparently most of them
cared to look.  I could feel the heat coming from my face and I know I must
have been five shades of red.  I was topless in a large crowd of strangers,
black strangers for the most part.  I had never felt such embarrassment in
my life.  I used to have nightmares where I was nude in public.  In my
nightmares no one seemed to notice I was naked, but here everybody knew it.

   "We are in the eagle suite, Thomas," Trip said grinning at my
embarrassment.  "I'll be along shortly if you would be so kind as to escort
Beth."

   I was wrong.  Standing there with my knockers hanging out was not the
most embarrassing thing.  Walking across that dance floor was the most
embarrassing thing.  I could feel the eyes looking at me.  My full breast
bounced and swayed as Thomas led me through the crowd.  I tried to walk
faster, but Tomas held me back, even stopping to chat with some of the men.
I was trying to make myself disappear.

   When we finally, after what seemed an hour or more, got to the eagle
suite, I realized that two men followed us.  It was the men who had been
introduced to as Jerry and Roy.  At the door it dawned on me that I was
going to be gang fucked.  Trip had promised me that I would be the first
night he took me, but now I knew it was going to happen.  My knees suddenly
got weak and my mouth suddenly very dry.  Thomas had to nudge me into the
room.

   Jerry went to the stereo and turned on some music.  Thomas and Roy went
to the bar and got drinks.  I stood rooted in the middle of the large room.
I wasn't sure what I was supposed to do.

   "Here you are, Beth," Thomas said handing me a tiny glass of clear
liquid.  "Toss it down." I did as he instructed.  There was a fiery glow
down my throat and into my stomach.  Roy handed me another one and I downed
it.  The heat in my stomach begun to spread out through my entire body. 
When the spreading heat reached my nipples, so did Thomas and Roy.  Each
had a nipple in their grasp.

   "Dance for us, Beth," Thomas said.  "Make it down and make it dirty."

   I've never considered myself a dancer, but all the wine and whatever
that fiery stuff I just drank took all my inhabitations away.  While I
swayed, strutted and strolled around the room, Trip and Judge Bath came in.
They got a drink and joined the other three black men watching me.  I
discovered that if I put my heels down hard my tits would bounce.  The
watching men seemed to like that.

   When the men demanded that I take the bottom part of the dress off, I
backed up to Trip to unzip me.  I thought he deserved the honor.  I dropped
the dress and stepped out of it wearing only garter, hose, heels, and a
tiny thong.  The thong only lasted another few minutes.  I make a mistake
and got too close to Judge Bath.  He grabbed it and ripped it off.

   The men were seated in a semicircle in straight chairs.  I made it a
point to dance in close to them.  Trip was sitting on the end and on one
pass by them he pulled me onto his lap and while firmly holding one breast,
kissed me long and hard.  He passed me to the next man and I kissed him and
then I did the same to each of them.

   The last man in the line was Judge Bath.  While I was on his lap he
kissed me and shoved my legs apart and stuck a stubby finger in me.  He
fucked me with his finger, bringing me to an small but nice orgasm.  When
he released me he sent me back up the line only by this time the other men
were naked.  I made that trip on my knees giving each of them a few minutes
of a blow-job as I went.  Five hard black cocks all for me!  None were
particularly big.  Trip was a bit longer and Judge Bath was the thickest,
but they all knew what they needed to do and they all knew what I wanted
them to do.

   Most of the rest of the night was a blur.  A collage of sex.  Thomas
Bickford was the first to put his cock in me.  That was while they were
still sitting in the chairs.  He simply slammed me down on his cock and let
it soak in my pussy for a few moments.  One after another the others
followed suit.

   Trip was the first to fuck me on the bed.  He was followed by Judge Bath
and then the order gets all mixed up in my mind.  One at a time they fucked
me.  Then it was fuck one, suck one.  Sometime during the night they
started taking me two at a time and a couple of times three at a time. 
Once they doubled up on my poor pussy.  Jerry and Roy both had their cocks
in that one hole.  Luckily by that time I was stretched and was able to
accommodate them both without any discomfort.  Actually, I loved it.

   It was breaking day when the last of them left Trip and I alone.  I
awoke just shortly after nine thirty and felt a moment of panic.  Then I
remembered it was Friday and I knew we had no appointments all day.  The
answering machine was on to catch any calls that came in.  I closed my eyes
and went back to sleep.

   ***

   It was after noon when Trip woke me again.  I got out of the bed and had
to hold my hands over my pussy and butt to keep from dripping come on the
carpet.  I couldn't find the removal top from my dress, but luckily I had
thought to bring a change of clothes.  Trip went out to the limo and got my
overnight case.

   The ride back to the city was mostly quiet.  It wasn't until we got to
the office that Trip said that he was going to give me a thousand dollar a
month raise.

   "I want you to know how valuable you are to me, to my practice," he said
seriously.  "I just want you to know that.  Of course I wouldn't do
anything to hold you back."

   "I don't understand, Trip," I said.  "Hold me back from what?"

   "Over the next few days and weeks you will be getting several offers for
employment.  You were a big hit last night long before the small party in
our suite began.  I know for a fact that Charles Bath will be calling you.
Thomas Bickford told me he was going to offer you a position in his local
office and maybe even try to lure you to Washington.  You will have a lot
of offers.  Some I can't match but most I can.  Just be upfront with me and
tell me what I have to match or beat to keep you.

   Wow, I was shook!  In six months I had gone from a uneducated,
untrained, and unskilled housewife to a sought after employee.  I was
finding it all a bit hard to believe.  With the raise, Trip just more than
doubled my salary.

   "Just for showing up and flashing my boobs?' I said to Trip.  We were in
the office by that time.

   "No, not just for that, Beth," he said with a smile.  "That didn't hurt
any, but you proved yourself to be an accommodating white woman.  A
beautiful, mature, accommodating white woman to powerful black men.  At the
desk this morning there were twenty or more notes left for me, asking about
you.  Child, you will be in demand even more after our guests spread the
news that you can take a black gangbang." He looked at me for a moment,
"Speaking of that, how did you like your first gang fuck?"

   I hesitated before answering.  I wasn't sure I wanted him to know just
how much I loved it.  "Oh hell," I said with a laugh.  "I liked it a lot,
Trip.  I'm sure you saw how much I liked it." I couldn't keep a secret from
him.  I was still tingling from the experience.

   In the office I checked the machine and got the messages.  There were a
couple that couldn't wait until Monday.  I handed Tip a couple of numbers
that seemed personal, and I sat down at my desk and returned a few calls.

   "Where the hell you been?" Curley Wilson demanded charging in the door.
"I called a dozen times last night and this morning."

   "Settle down, Curley," Trip called from his office.  "We had dinner and
a late night.  What do you need?"

   "I wasn't talkin' to you, Trip.  I don't give a shit where you were. 
Where were you?" he demanded looking down at me.  He was staring hard aty
my face.  "You got some last night didn't you?"

   "Curley," Trip said coming to his door.  "Will you calm down?  Beth
isn't your wife or your property.  She doesn't have to account to you for
her time.  I told you we were out."

   "Ah shit!  You took her to that Black Knight thing didn't you?" Curley
said eyeing Trips disheveled tux.  "It beats me why you want to hobnob with
that bunch of snobbish niggers.  Between you, me and Monroe we could buy
and sell half of them."

   "I've tried to explain it to you, Curley," Trip said.  "It's not about
money.  It's about power.  The Knights are powerful people."

   "How come you took Beth?" You never took any of the others.  Jan begged
you to take her, so why now?"

   "Because, you simple tool," Trip said not unkindly.  "Beth is different.
She is special."

   "Did they fuck her?" Curley was still angry, but had calmed down some.

   "Some did," Trip said calmly.  "She entertained five of us last night."

   "Dammit, I wanted to be in on her first gang bang.  Who fucked her?"

   "Summer, Bickford, Summer, and Godsey," Trip said.

   "How did she do?"

   "Hey, I'm sitting right here," I said.  "Curley, I'm sorry you were not
there.  Get over it!  And for your information I did fine, didn't I Trip?"

   "Indeed you did," Trip said caressing my shoulder.  "Extraordinarily as
a mater of fact.  I was very proud of you."

   Summer and Godsey are okay," Curley mumbled.  "I don't care much for
Bath and the asshole congressman.  So are we still going to the Phoenix
tonight?"

   "Not me, Curley," Trip answered.  "I'm wiped out after last night.  It's
a good book and early bed for me.

   "What's the Phoenix?" I asked.

   "It's a bump and grind drive just out of town." Trip said.  "Monroe and
Curley wanted to take you there and show you off to that gang of worthless
humanity.  It would be the exact opposite of last night's affair."

   "It ain't that bad," Curley said.  "It's where some of us lower forms
get together.  Won't be any highfaluting judges or big shots there.  Just
hard working folk, like me and Monroe.  That's why I was trying to get hold
of you last night to see if you would come with us tonight," he said to me.
"I kinda been braggin' on you to some of the guys."

   "Sure, I'll go with you," I said.  "I'm still at loose ends with Norm
gone.  What time?"

   "Monroe and me will pick you up at eight.  That will give us time to get
something to eat before we get to the Phoenix."

   ***

   "So what exactly is the Phoenix?" I ask while laying in a hot sudsy tub
of water.  Curley and Monroe were in the bathroom watching me.  Over the
past few months I had lost all modesty around them.  They both had seen me
naked and nude many times.  Curley explained the difference.  He said nude
was when you had no clothes on and naked was when you had no clothes on and
was up to something.

   "It's a club where men in our profession get together to have a good
time," Monroe said.  "I started out a few years ago as a place just for
pimps and their guests.  Now it's open to dance clubs operators, adult
video merchants, triple X theaters operators.  You know men who are in the
adult entertainment business."

   "Yeah, but us stable owners still run the joint," Curley said proudly.

   "Sounds...interesting," I said.  "What should I wear?"

   "That black shiny jumpsuit," Curley said quickly.  Apparently he had
been giving it some thought.  "The one with the zipper all the way down the
front."

   "Yeah, that's a good one.  No bra either.  Kinda show off the goodies.
Black high heels, too.  Right Curley?"

   "Yeah, them black 'fuck me' shoes with the real high heel," Curley said.

   "I'm goina wait in the living room.  Watching her big ol' titties is
givin' me a hard on that a cat couldn't scratch," Monroe said seriously.

   A hour and forty-five minutes later we were in Trip's borrowed limo and
on our way to the Phoenix.  We had just finished a nice dinner

   The Phoenix Club was just outside the city limits and from the outside
didn't appear attractive.  Basically just a concrete block building with a
small empty gravel parking lot in front.  Our driver drove through the
parking lot to an alley beside the building that was blocked by a chain
across it and a man standing by the chain.  Curly rolled his window down.

   "Hi, Slim, it Curley, Monroe and a guest," he said through the window.
The man dropped the chain and we went across it to a paved parking lot that
had a couple dozen cars of various kinds from junkers to limos to actual
pimpmobiles like you see in the movies.  I commented on the outlandish
cars.

   "Never could understand why a man in my line of work wants to drive one
of them things," Curley said.

   "Maybe it's to attract the whores," Monroe suggested.  "Like a male bird
is all fancy and colored up."

   "Bullshit," Curley said.  "For every whore you attract you'll bring in
five cops.  Me, I drive a nice three year old Caddy and I keep it clean.  I
used my fuckin' car to go from here to there, not to try to get more
women."

   I laughed silently to myself.  What strange company for any woman let
alone a nice respectable middle class white woman from the suburbs.  Curley
wanted us to remain in the car until someone showed up.  I listened to
Curley and Monroe banter back and forth with only half an ear.  I was
thinking, as I had so much lately, about my strange way of life.  Sex had
became the prime mover in my life.  For many years Norm and our sex life
had been put on a back burner.  Oh sure, we had sex once a week or so, but
the zip had gone out of it.  That all changed when I went to work.  Norm's
interest in sex was better than it ever had been.  From the back burned to
a red hot eye in hardly no time.

   "There's Doctor Zee," Curley said.  "We'll give him a few minutes to get
in and settled and then we'll go in.  This is goin' be fun." He reached
over and pulled the zipper down on my suit a few more inches.

   I watched the car park and the man get out of it.  He was a huge
creature that had to be at least seven feet tall.  Not only tall, but big
all over.

   "Football or basketball?" I asked watching the man enter the building.

   "Played both in college and high school," Curley said.  "Played pro
basketball until he got caught shaving points five or six years back.  He's
my major competitor.  Got twelve or fifteen gals working for him.  He wants
to buy me out."

   "Why don't you let him?" Monroe asked.  "You could come in with me."

   "I'm going to, but we're still a long ways apart on how much he going to
pay me.  Son of a bitch has been trying to steal my ladies away from me for
two fuckin' years, but he can't.  Oh, he's got a few, but I just take two
of his for every one he gets from me.  I treat my ladies better than him
and they all know I stand behind them.  Let's go, it's show time."

   The outside of the Phoenix club was certainly no reflection of the rest.
Inside was lavishly furnished and tastefully lighted.  There was a wide
mixture of fragrances.  Perfume, cologne, whiskey, and incense.  There was
something else, but I couldn't place it.  Testosterone I thought it might
be.

   In the subdued lights I could see that it was mostly men in the room.  A
few women were scattered about but not many.  Curley unzipped the zipper
until it was open nearly to my navel.  I had to tread carefully or my boobs
would sway right out of the jumpsuit as we slowly made our way to a table.
Curley and Monroe seemed to know everybody.

   We passed the table where Doctor Zee was sitting and I could almost feel
his eyes follow me.  I put a little extra wiggle in my walk.  We had not
more than got sat down when a waiter arrived with a ice bucket and a bottle
of expensive champagne.  The Phoenix wasn't as classy at the resort hotel
ballroom, but they apparently didn't skimp on the wine.

   "Only open on Friday and Saturday night, and some holidays," Monroe
explained.  "Just for our own group and guests.  It costs a lot to join and
the monthly dues are higher than a cat's back, but it worth every dime of
it.  More of our business is carried on in here than anyplace else."

   "I saw two white men as we came in," I said.  "An equal opportunity
sleaze joint?"

   "You bet," Curley said laughing.  "Them two ol' boys are brothers.  They
got a small string of whores and they operate out of midtown.  Mostly
Latinas they round up from Mexico and on south.  There's a few more white
operators around.  Most are so small they can't afford membership."

   For the next half hour there was a constant stream of men coming to talk
with Curley or Monroe, but I got the feeling they came to check me out.  In
many ways the experience was similar to the previous night.  Of course the
dress was formal at the hotel, and here is ranged from conservative to
totally wild.  It seemed to me that the movies and TV had projected what a
pimp should look like and some of the men dressed the part right down to a
big hat with a colored feather.  Fashion following art, I suppose.  Monroe
alerted Curley that Doctor Zee was approaching.  I found myself sitting up
straighter.

   "So Curley, my man," the big man said in a deep gravely voice.  "This a
new lady?"

   "This is Beth," Curley said.  "She's my sitter.  How's business, Doc?"
When Beth looked at Monroe for an interpretation of 'sitter' he mouthed the
words 'part-time"

   "Some days are diamonds and some are coal.  You?"

   "Doin' all right.  Like everybody I have to compete with the alley-cats
and charity girls.  I'm getting' by." Curley said.  "Pull up a chair and
have a seat."

   Monroe leaned over and whispered in my ear, "Alley-cats are amateurs and
charity girls are pros that would rather give it away then sell it."

   "You still got that bunch of rock whores and flat-backers?" Curley
asked.

   "Flat-backer is a whore that takes on a bunch of men a night and rock
whores are women who trade pussy for crack or other drugs," Monroe
continued to whisper a translation.

   "Some, I guess," Doctor Zee said.  "Takes all kinds." He turned his big
head and looked at me.  "New to the trade?" I nodded because he could see
Monroe telling me what the words meant.  "Every business has it own lingo.
If we was a bunch of geeks we'd be talking gigabytes and ram and shit. 
Lawyers would be talking about torts and legal crap.  You like your meat
dark, huh?"

   "The darker the better," I answered boldly.  Doctor Zee was one of those
persons that when you first meet them you feel you are in a contest of
wills.  Even thought he scared the hell out of me I wasn't about to back
down for him.  "But I'm selective."

   "Really?  Selective huh?  You was mine I'd slap that shit out of your
head pretty fuckin' fast."

   "And they'd find a long tall pimp hanging by his balls from a
streetlight, too." I have no idea where my dialog was coming from or why I
was getting in this big man's face.  A quick glance at Curley indicated he
thought it was humorous.  I could hear Monroe chuckling.

   "One thing a white bitch needs to know is her fuckin' place," Doctor Zee
snarled.  His dark eyes flashing at me.

   "My place is laying on my back with your face in my pussy," I said.  Oh
Lord, what was I doing?  This didn't make any sense.  Doc Zee glared at me
a moment then burst out laughing.

   "I like her," he said to Curly and Monroe.  "That lady got some kinda
spunk.  I got to go do some business.  You all have another bottle of
bubbly on me.  Curley, walk with me a minute, please."

   I watched the giant and Curley walk away a few years and stop to talk.
It looked funny because for them to hear each other over the music, Doc Zee
had to bend over and Curley had to stand on his tiptoes.  Soon Curley came
back and sat down.

   "What was that about?" Monroe asked.  Curley didn't answer for a few
moments and when he did, he was looking at me.

   "He just made me an offer for my stable.  He met my askin' price before
the hagglin'"

   "That's good," Monroe said.  "That's...oh, oh, what's the catch?"

   "He attached a string to the deal," Curley answered.  "Beth is the
string.  He'll buy me out if Beth agrees to spend one day with him.  One
twenty-four hour, anything goes, day.  I told him to go piss up a rope."

   "Why?" I asked.  "Why did you tell him that?"

   "In the first place it ain't my call.  You don't work for me, so I can't
be tellin' you to do anything.  You work for Trip.  In the second place, I
don't need to sell out that damned bad."

   "I'm your friend, aren't I?" I snapped at him.  "You can't make me, but
you can ask me."

   "What's the difference in what he offered you and what you would have
settled for?" Monroe asked.

   "Probably around twenty grand," Curley answered.  "Why?"

   "Then give Beth the difference of twenty thousand bucks.  You ain't
askin' for favors, and she ain't puttin' out for free.  Everybody wins,"
Monroe said.  "Makes sense to me."

   "Would you do it that way, Beth?" Curley asked.

   "I would do it for you for nothing," I said squeezing his hand.  "You
won't have to pay me."

   "Yeah I do.  I wouldn't feel right about asking that big of a favor.  If
you'll take the money, I'll tell him it's a deal."

   It never ceases to amaze me.  Why were all these men so dead-set on
getting me into bed?  I knew there were a lot of white women who would
accommodate black men.  I'm forty years old, for pity sakes!  I'm aware
that I'm attractive, mainly because it's been pointed out by my husband so
many times and enforced by three other men I care about.  I'm also aware
that I could pass for...well, let's just say early thirties if you didn't
look that close.  If I weren't such a practical person, this heady crap
could go to my head.  Being a pragmatist I know how fleeting youth and
beauty really is.  The past twenty years passed so quickly that it's hard
to believe.  I have every reason to believe that the next twenty years will
pass just as quick if not faster.  I'm happy that men still find me
attractive but I'd bet a lot of money that won't last very long.  Aw screw
it!  I think I'm just going to enjoy whatever it is as long as I can and
shed no tears when it's over.

   Did I have any qualms about accepting money to sleep with a big black
man?  No, not so much.  In one twenty four hour period I could have almost
enough to buy Norm that new SUV he's had his eye on.  Would I do it?  Hell
yes!  You better believe I would.

   "Go tell him we accept," I told Curley.  "The only stipulation is no
pain.  You make sure that big bastard knows that I'm not into the S and M
or B and D stuff." That was kinda funny.  A few months ago I wasn't even
sure what that was.  Being around Trip, Curley, and Monroe was an education
in the perverse.

   Curley was back in less than ten minutes looking thoughtful and a little
bit sad.  He announced that he was out of business effective immediately.
Whatever else Doctor Zee may be, he's quick.

   "I called Trip and told him what was going on," Curley said.

   "What did he say about me and...you know?" I asked.

   "He said you were free, white, and twenty-one," Curley said with a grin.
"He also said being with Doc Zee for a while may be an education for you.
Oh, speaking of that, your twenty-four hours starts at midnight tonight."
Damn, that Zee was a fast mover.  Curley looked at his watch.  "That's less
than an hour from now.  You can still back out, you know." We all knew that
I wasn't going to back out.  It had become an stimulating challenge.  I
could fee the tingle in the pit of my tummy and also the moisture between
my legs.

   ***

   "So, why do they call you Doctor, Doctor?" I asked my large companion.
We were in his car speeding through the still heavily traveled city
streets. I had been astonished to discover that there were a lot of people
who only came out at night.  Their 'day' didn't start until the sun went
down.

   "I studied sports medicine for a while," he answered in his deep bass
voice.  "I found that I really had no aptitude for it."

   "How did you become a pimp?" I asked him not too sure that it was a
proper question.  fortunately he laughed.

   "After I couldn't play professional sports any longer I came here to
lick my wounds.  I thought about getting into politics but didn't have the
stomach for it.  I was dating a couple of women and one night a friend
asked me to borrow one for a while.  I laughingly told him it would cost
him and to my surprise, he agreed.  I didn't really need the money, but I
figured what the hell, so I took his money and turned her over to him."

   "How did she feel about that?"

   "I don't know.  I didn't ask her," Zee answered.  "Back then I had a
bunch of women all wanting to date a big basketball star.  I also had some
acquaintances that wanted pussy but were too lazy to hunt their own.  So
from that humble beginning I established my empire.  How did you get into
the business?"

   "I'm afraid Curley mislead you a tiny bit," I answered.  We were pulling
into the basement parking garage of a large building.  "I'm not a
prostitute, even part time." I gave him a thumbnail explanation of how I
came to be in the company of two black men at a pimp's convention.  He
parked and shut off the engine.

   "Well, don't I feel like the perfect fool," he said looking at me.

   "How so?"

   "I thought I would get you with Curley's string.  Now I find out that
you are gainfully employed by none other then Trip Washington." He
continued to look at me.  "Why did you pretend to be on the job?"

   "I like Curley and I didn't want to contradict him," I answered. 
"Surely you didn't pay him all that money just for one whore."

   "No, I still made a good deal.  Putting Curley out of business opens up
a much wider territory for me.  He's always had a better class of whores
and he has some real white talent that will help me.  I'll make it all back
in a few months." He opened his door and came around to open my door. 
"Come on up."

   Doctor Zee's apartment consisted of two floors near the top of the
fifteen story building.  I discovered he had good taste in furnishings.  In
fact his apartment looked as if it could be featured in a magazine.  I
discovered later that it had been.

   "Make your self at home," Zee said.  "I'll make us some drinks." While
he was busy at the bar, I wandered around his home.  He brought me a tall
glass of liquid and when I tasted it, I didn't recognize it.

   "It's my own formula," he told me.  "It's designed to stimulate the body
while waking up the senses.  It also provides the body with necessary fluid
and trace elements."

   "Gatorade and Vodka?" I teased.

   "Nothing quite so simple," he answered laughing.  "However I got the
idea from that.  It's got some rare herbs and other stuff from the swamps
of Louisiana.  My ninety year old granny sends it to me.  Would you believe
that she's still sexually active at her age?  I think you'll find that it
is a powerful aphrodisiac." I took a long drink of it.  It tasted good and
there was a slight tingling in my mouth.  "After one glass you'll be
tearing my clothes off.  After two you will become a raving frenzied sexual
stick of dynamite."

   "You think I'll need an aphrodisiac?" I teased.  I could feel a warmth
spreading through my body.

   "No, but I only have you for twenty-four hours and I want to keep you
going every minute of that time.  Let's sit over there." He pointed to a
long curved sectional sofa.  Suddenly sitting seemed like a very good idea.
My legs were a bit wobbly.  "The effects will come to you in stages," he
said.  "At first you will be shaky, but that will pass quickly.  The next
stage...well I don't want to spoil the surprise." I handed him my empty
glass.  "Ty will get us another one."

   "Who or what is Ty?" I asked.

   "Ty is my main man," Zee said.  "After I fuck you, Ty will.  Between the
two of us you will have a black cock in your pretty white cunt for the next
twenty-four hours with a brief time outs to eat, wash, and recharge your
battery.  I think you'll like what Ty has to offer, not that it makes much
difference.  Here he is with our drinks." I looked up to see a huge black,
black man bringing two glasses of the potent drink.  He was as tall as Zee
but was wider and thicker.  Where Zee had close cropped hair, Ty was shaved
clean and his head shined in the light.

   "Hi Ty," Zee said.  "This is Beth.  We're going to fuck her."

   "Good," the giant said handing me a glass.  He had a surprisingly high
pitched voice for such a big man.  "I like to fuck pretty white women.  Why
is she still dressed?"

   "That's a good question, Ty.  Beth, why are you still dressed?" I tried
to form an answer but nothing come to mind.  Ty took the glass from my hand
and sit it on a table.  He took both my hands and lifted me to my feet and
unzipped the jumpsuit down nearly to my crotch.  He slipped the suit off of
my shoulders and pulled it all the way down and I stepped out of it wearing
only my heels and a tiny black thong.  Ty roughly took both my breasts in
his giant hands and fondled me, pinching my nipples.  I heard a moan and
realized it came from me.  I was having an orgasm while standing, having my
tits played with.  My breasts have always been sensitive and responsive,
but not like they were at that moment.  My nipples felt like they were
pulsating.

   "Real tits, boss," Ty said.  "I like'em when they're real."

   "I also, Ty," Zee said.  "Is she wet?"

   Ty jerked my thong off and put a finger in my pussy and reported to Zee
that I was soaking.  I could have told them that.  I looked over at Zee
while Ty continued to work his big finger in me.  Zee was naked and I know
I must have gasped out loud.  Zee was hung like a stallion.  I thought
Monroe, Curley and Trip were big, but Zee was much larger.  I was beginning
to have some reservations about this night.

   "Beth, I think you will come to love this black love rod," Zee said.  "I
have nine inches of black snake for you to enjoy.  Ty, take her to my
room."

   I'm no lightweight.  but Ty picked me up, his finger still in me, and
carried me as if I were a child.  Ty deposited me on a super king-size bed,
but still kept his big finger in my pussy.

   "Can I eat her first, boss?' Ty asked.

   "Certainly, Ty," Zee answered.  "I'm sure Beth would like that." Beth
did like it.  The giant ate me through four or five big climaxes.  By the
time he finished, I was a thrashing mass of flesh and I desperately needed
that black snake of Zee's.

   It took a while for Zee to get his massive cock in me but between us we
managed and he fucked me.  Boy did he ever fuck me!  I lost count of the
number or orgasms.  I could hear myself screaming in passion and delight
and when he came I could feel his come gushing in me.  When Zee pulled out,
Ty slammed his cock in me.  Ty was even larger than Zee.  Not a whole lot,
but Ty reached places that no man had ever reached before.  Ty came in a
torrent of come and pulled his cock out to be replaced by Zee again.  For
several hours they swapped me back and forth between them.

   At some point they sent me to the shower to wash what seemed like
gallons of sperm off and out of me.  I was given another glass of Zee's
special drink and Ty put a suppository in my butt.  I didn't even think to
ask what it was for.  Soon they started on me again.  This time they didn't
swap out.  They both took me at the same time.  Zee took my ass first and
it hurt, but only a little and only for a few moments.  While Zee fucked my
ass, I gave Ty head.  It wasn't long before they both entered me.  Zee in
my butt and Ty in my pussy.  I was sitting on Zee, facing away when he
reached around me and pulled my legs apart.  Ty shoved his cock in me and I
screamed to high heavens.  I passed out from it several times, but that
didn't seem to matter to them.  They just kept fucking me.

   I had no idea about the passage of time.  All I was aware of was the
extreme obsession that I had.  I couldn't get enough of their huge black
cocks and apparently they couldn't get enough of my white pussy or my white
ass.  I was a fucking machine being fucked by two fucking machines.

   We ate a couple of times, I showered a lot, and that special drink was
well supplied.  During the rest of the time one or the other or both were
in me.  Occasionally one or the other would disappear for a while and then
reappear to take over the fucking.

   I was only semi-conscious when Zee delivered me to my house.  He helped
me in and left after giving me another drink of something that wasn't very
tasty.  I glanced at the bedside clock as I fell into bed, still clothed.
It was twelve-thirty, and I turned into a pumpkin.  A dead to the world
pumpkin.

   ***

   I woke up Sunday afternoon just after two o'clock.  I was groggy but
other then that I felt fine.  In the shower I discovered that my pussy and
butt were a little tender but nothing major.  I also discovered I was very
hungry.

   I was on my way to the kitchen when Monroe call to check on me.  I was
on the line with him when Curley called.  I was almost to the kitchen when
Trip called telling me that he was only a few blocks away with some food. A
few minutes later I met him at the door and helped him bring in the two big
bags of food.

   "Bless you, Trip," I told him.  "I'm starving and I wasn't sure what was
here."

   "Yeah, that shit always make you hungry," Trip said.  "I figured you
would be pretty hungry about now."

   "What was in that drink?" I asked hurriedly getting some plates out of
the cupboard.

   "I don't know, but you don't want to fool with it very much," Trip told
me.  "It's highly addictive or so I've been told.  Are you okay?"

   "Yes, I'm fine," I answered honestly.  "It was rather intense but good."

   "Can I give you a word of caution?"

   "Of course, you can, Trip.  You can say anything to me."

   "There is such a thing as too much of a good thing.  Having sex while
your system is artificially pumped up can be damaging to you.  I'm told
that after a time you find that you can't have the same or normal response
to it.  You almost get to a climax but it doesn't happens.  Much like a
hardcore narcotic user.  The high is no longer there.  I would caution you
to avoid Doctor Zee and his magic elixir." Trip laughed, "But then what do
I know?  I'm just an old lawyer who's not very hip."

   Trip stayed for a little while longer until it was time to go to the
airport to get Norm.  I thought about what Trip said and it made sense to
me.  The human body is a wonder mechanism and it tells us when to slow down
and when to stop.  Bypassing the body's warnings sounds like it could be
dangerous.

   By the time I retrieved my husband and told him about my exploits I had
determined that I would just stick with my guys and their occasional
friends.  Deep down inside, I would like to try Zee and Ty again without
the booster drink.  I also wish I knew what was in that drink.  You know,
just in case...  Oh well, we work with what we have I guess.

   THE END

   (In the fantasy world there are no unwanted pregnancies, no aids,
syphilis, gonorrhea, or genital herpes.  In the fantasy world there are no
repercussions from most bad decisions.  In the fantasy world women love to
be pounded mercilessly by big hard cocks until they pass out.  In the
fantasy world the jealousies are controlled, and people learn to live with
what-ever lot befalls them.  This is the real world, so get real and
protect yourselves.  Hey, I worry about you.  So sue me.  Shooter )

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