A Little Side Business Pt. 04


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A Little Side Business, Part Four

The Best Advertising is Word-of-Mouth

In which our hero crosses the threshold


I rolled groggily out of the wet sheets, untangling myself from Tamika. She teased, “Thank God, I thought I killed you!” slapping me on my very white ass.

“What time is it?,” I asked, disoriented.

“Ten twenty-four,” said Charlotte, handing me my glasses, “I don’t think you have time to bicycle to the store. You’ll be docked four hours of comp time if you’re late.”

“I’ll give him a ride,” offered Rita. “I can get back here in forty-five minutes. If you hurry, Frank.”

“Do it, Rita. We’ve got to block in the girl-girl scene, too. Frank, wash in the outdoor shower. Don’t want the oil to gum up the pool filter.”

I hurried, waking up in the cool shower, toweling off and throwing on the work uniform I carried on my bike. I looked back as I reluctantly left the patio and saw Charlotte and Tamika falling into a vanilla and chocolate swirl on the bed. When I got around the hedge Rita had fastened my bike to the rack on her Miata. “I didn’t know you rode,” I said, surprised.

“Well, I’ve been getting back to it recently. You’ve inspired me, but I didn’t want to tell you until I could do some serious mileage.”

“Good for you. Good for you.” I hopped into the convertible and she hit the gas, saying “That bitch is a couple of cards short. Manipulative as hell, too. She could fix your time punch if she wanted to.”

And when we had got only about halfway down the long drive she stopped.

“You know what’s the sexiest thing about you, Frank?” she asked, turning to face me. The broken sunlight falling through the arched branches of the live oaks lit her high, sharp cheekbones. I hadn’t really noticed her that morning, for obvious reasons, and now, stopped in the quiet and stillness of the wood, my senses perhaps heightened by all the recent stimulation, I saw her more clearly.

The thin yellow cotton sundress clung to her, tented by hard, sharp nipples and pooled in her lap, exposing tanned, trim thighs. At that moment the look of appeal and intensity in her hazel eyes was what was sexy about her. Crap. I could fall in love with this one, too.

“Your hands, Frank, your sexy hands. I watched you caressing Tamika for a couple hours and it’s been making me a little crazy. The way your muscles rippled up your arms and across your chest when you were massaging her back is going to look great in the video. That’s what a woman wants to see, more than a penis, really.”

“I admire the camera work you do,” I said, deflecting the compliment. “That single take of Charlotte and Marcus was amazing. I’ve never seen any porn like that.”

Rita’s mouth turned down, “You know, that piece was made just for you. It’s more graphic than our usual product.”


“She really wanted to pull you into this, but she knew it would take just the right pitch.”

l gazed off into the trees, “Seems like an awful lot of trouble to attract one old man.”

“Well,” sighed Rita, “she’s got a thing for you. I don’t think it was any trouble for her to screw Marcus, though. Watch out, Frank.”

That was the second warning I’d got today from women who knew Charlotte. But there was something so damned attractive about the woman that spoke directly to something in me. I thought of that brief moment when my cock was between her lips and her playful look. The way my heart was tugged. And Thursday night when I could have had her, but was too much of a gentleman. What did gentleman even mean in this context? Chivalry was not dead, but maybe I should put it down for a long nap.

“Frank, will you do me a favor?” Rita said, reaching for my hand.

“What’s that?”

“Touch me. Touch me down here,” and she drew my hand to her lap. She pressed it into the warm juncture of her legs. “Please. I’ll get you to work on time, but please get me off. It won’t take long.”

She reached to her left and popped the lever to lower her seat back. No, chivalry was not dead. I couldn’t refuse a damsel in need, could I?

It was only a little awkward after I lowered my seat, too, and leaned over the console. She pulled up her dress to reveal matching yellow panties and spread her legs as far as the little cockpit would allow. With my right hand flat on her tummy and my left elbow on her headrest, I began exploring, watching as her breathing quickened and her pointed nipples drilled into her dress. My fingers walked down, first cupping her sex over the panties. And those panties were moist, hot and sticky. I pressed my palm on her mound, making little circles.

“I’ve admired your hands for a long time, Frank. So strong and square and elegant. The long knotted fingers, the İstanbul Escort callouses, aaaahhhh…the scars. The gentle way you handle a phone. The way you oooooohhhh…touch the screen, even, makes me a little wet.” She arched her back, squirming as I wormed my fingertips under her panty elastic, scratching lightly with my nails. Those nipples threatened to rip through the dress, so with my other hand I eased the spaghetti strap off of her right shoulder. All the little hairs on her skin stood up. Her breasts were small, nearly all nipple, pinched tight as they were, the tissue deep purple and thick, knobby.

“I’m too petite for porn, I think.” She whispered, catching her breath as I lowered my mouth to her ecstatic tit. Cupping her bristly mons in my palm, I ran my fingers gently down along her labia, just brushing the hooded clit and slowly pressed the middle one into her wet folds, dipping in to draw out her moisture.

When I drew that wet finger over her clit she kicked, bucking under my hand, nearly ripping the nipple from my mouth. I sucked her entire breast in and worked my tongue around it while she writhed and gasped. Rita’s hands tangled in my hair, pressing me hard into her. She clamped her legs tight, trapping my hand in the furnace of her groin. She shrieked and birds leapt from the trees above us, like in some movie, leaves whirling down in the thick air.

I kept on sucking and teasing with my fingers as waves of pleasure ran through her slight body and she slowly sank back into her seat, panting loudly. I noticed, proudly, that I was hard again, just a little while after filling Tamika. Wow, he is risen, I thought. Hallelujah.

“OK, OK, Frank, you can stop. I can’t take anymore. And I’ve got to get you to work, but I guess I owe you one,” She covered herself as I sank into my own seat, feeling elated. I knew I wouldn’t have a second climax that morning, but I was just glad I could get it up again. And please more than one woman.

Rita pointed, “There’s some wipes in the glove compartment. Give me a couple will ya.”

She did a quick clean up and I wiped my hands. Then she gunned the Miata down the drive and as quickly to the store as conditions allowed.

“Frank, I can’t say I really want to be in one of the films, but I’d like the opportunity to decline the invitation, you know?” she said, eyes on the sand-shouldered road.

“Well, Charlotte’s the boss,” I said.

“Yeah, Charlotte’s the fucking boss,” she spit, tight-lipped, and we both laughed. Fucking boss.

I had her drop me off a block away and I pedaled into the parking lot looking like an innocent man, still conforming to the one rule. I wouldn’t be spoiling this game for everyone. Before I had climbed out of the car, Rita had grabbed my arm, looking at me sternly. “Remember what I said.”

She’d said a lot, though.

Working in a cellphone store is a lot like the movie Groundhog Day; so much is just like the day before. And though things change, the start of each shift reminded me of Phil’s alarm clock. I heard the words in my head whenever I entered the store. “Okay, campers, rise and shine, and don’t forget your booties ’cause it’s cooooold out there today”. It wasn’t that hard to live a double life at work after all. Like Phil, I tried to see myself being given opportunities every day to become a better man. Before Chatterley I didn’t know what I was becoming better for, exactly. After Chatterley, and Charlotte, I began to see a purpose, dimly. My shuttered heart was opening a crack. I walked with a swagger, too, jangling my newly polished big, brass balls.

Since Charlotte set our schedules in the store as well as Chatterley she pretty much could move us around like chess pieces. So I wasn’t off again for two days, making it a Friday. No two schedules falling exactly alike, I didn’t see Tamika or Rita except when we overlapped. Being a busy store our opportunities to break the one rule were rare. But Rita did touch me on the arm or hand whenever she could on the day we worked together. And on Thursday I whispered in Tamika’s ear things like, “I’m going to lick you from your earlobes to your toes.” It had the desired effect. I had rediscovered the power to excite and I was going to use it.

Charlotte maintained absolute professionalism in the store. You would never know she ran Chatterley or had sex on the side with her employees. That kind of made things easier while at work. But afterward, back at home, or sipping a brew at Hops, I couldn’t stop replaying our scenes in my head. She had deflected my several attempts to arrange a talk.

I thought about why I wanted her so much, even in a sea of females suddenly throwing themselves at me. What was it about her clearly wounded self that drew me to her? I couldn’t deny that it was a contradiction in myself, either. Why would I want a broken woman? Did I want to fix her, rescue her, complete her? Yet she was the one who opened this door with her invitation to join Chatterley. Was that a cry for help? ‘Round and ’round Anadolu Yakası Escort my thoughts went without resolution.

I waited for a text telling me when I was needed next, perplexed and in a state of arousal much of the time. I wondered, too, about when the paychecks would come. But, I admit, I was so full of my new confidence and happy enough with just getting laid again that I didn’t wonder too hard. Besides, if Charlotte was good at anything, she was good at business. I trusted her as much as I lusted after her.

Finally, not having heard anything by Thursday night, I texted: cn i tan at the pool tmrw am?

She replied: Yes not b4 10 lv by 4. Key in filter.


My beard was in that itchy phase, so the next morning I trimmed it to match the pic Charlotte had sent me; a sharp edge along the jawline and under the cheekbones. The white hairs looked good against my tanned face, I had to admit.

Like every morning in July it was sunny as I rode out to Bateaux, arriving about eleven. I wanted to get my tan up to spec as quick as I could. Fortunately, It was mostly the area covered by my bathing suit that was still white. The ride to the estate was getting to be routine, the memories of the sex coloring my experience of it. It was a kind of magic realm, apart from real life, the long drive a portal into another time and place. I rode up to and around the big house and found Charlotte’s car gone, as expected.

But walking onto the patio I was surprised again to find a naked woman before me.

She lay on her front on a towel-draped chaise, dark hair spread around her, a dewy pitcher of some beverage with two tumblers on a small glass-topped table by her side. Like Charlotte, she had an athletic body, shiny with lotion. And the sun was being kind to her, toasting that body evenly.

“Uh, hello?” I said, standing in my sweaty jersey and shorts.

She rose on one elbow, face wrapped in large dark glasses and smiled. “You must be Frank. Charlotte has told me about you.” Her accent had a touch of the Boston brahmin, throaty and precise, formal.

“I wasn’t expecting anyone to be here,” I gestured, spreading my hands. “I should go.”

“No, please. I know you arranged to get some sun today. I won’t interfere with that.” She levered herself the rest of the way up and swung her long legs to the side, stood naked unashamed, slipped on one of the red robes from the pool house, held it closed with one hand and slouched toward me, other hand outstretched, shiny red nails gleaming.

“I’m Kathryn, Kathryn Bigelow. Charlotte is not here presently, but please go about your tanning business. I’ll go back up to the big house.” She turned, then paused and, looking back over her shoulder, said, raising an eyebrow, “Unless of course you’d care for a drink? After your long ride.”

“Well, uh, I am thirsty. Sure.” I wouldn’t turn down a drink, anyway. And I wanted to find out who she was. I looked more closely at her as she poured from the pitcher. She was remarkably like Charlotte; same build, same height, same coloring, same lips. And I had a pretty good memory of Charlotte’s lips, if nothing else. I couldn’t see her eyes behind the glasses, just my own reflection.

“Pardon me for prying, but how do you know Charlotte? I understand she’s not close to her family.” I took the offered drink and stood, examining the woman closely, she with her weight on one hip, glass in one hand, robe held loosely closed in the other, smiling politely. It was dawning on me that the only difference in her and Charlotte was her hair color and nails.

“We’ve known each other for a very long time.” She said, looking into her drink.

“I hope what she’s told you about me is good.” How did you make small talk in a situation like this? The drink was a pretty stiff one. Gin and something, I guessed. Not fruity, thankfully. My mother had mixed Mai-Tais in the mornings.

“Oh, Frank, she’s given me a very clear idea of who you are.” She smiled.

“Then you know we work together at VoltT. She’s a good boss. It was nice of her to let me come out here to tan. The backyard of my house in town isn’t private at all. Though I’m thinking of adding a widow’s walk on the roof if the city will permit that in the historic district. To be high enough that the neighbors can’t see.” I assumed she knew that I was expecting to nude sunbathe. But I was rambling, sipping a little too fast on the drink.

She nursed hers and appeared by the tilt of her head to be scrutinizing me from behind the sunglasses.

“Well, don’t let me keep you from it, then.” She took the pitcher in hand, letting the robe fall open and turned toward the house. A flash of leg and bush and breast and her womanly abs. Again she paused, “Unless you’d like some help with the lotion?”

That hung in the air for a long moment as she stood, her back to me, hands full. I knew she was exposed on the front side and she certainly was being seductive. It had been so long since a Üsküdar Escort woman had come on to me and now I had an embarrassment of female interest. Why? It was going to my head like the gin. Why not? Why not take what was offered? But who was this woman? I began to suspect Charlotte was playing a game with me, pretending to be this Kathryn Bigelow, acting, like she did in the videos. Maybe I would play along.

“I’d like to rinse off first,” I said going to the shower, stripping off quickly and doing my own tease as I slipped under the spray with the door open. Two could play.

When I came out and toweled off I walked to the chaise naked and lay on it face down, taking a moment to adjust my thickening equipment. I was getting so comfortable being nude at Bateaux. ‘Kathryn’ watched me, robe open, lotion bottle ready in her right hand. She sat delicately on the edge of the chaise.

“You know in this sun your skin will burn in fifteen minutes. You do want to be able to sit down tomorrow, I’m sure. I’m going to start at the top and make my way down to where you really need it. Let me know if I miss a spot.” With that she began working the lotion into my shoulders and neck.

“Charlotte hasn’t told me about you, Kathryn.”

“I don’t visit often. Usually unannounced when I do.” She pressed her way down my spine.

“Maybe you can help me understand her better. She’s kind of elusive, actually.”

“Frank, you know she’s an artist. Very unpredictable. Or unconventional, as she would put it.”

“Yeah, and her movies are beautiful. That’s part of what convinced me to sign on. But she has a strange appeal of her own.” I flattered her. “And I want to know her better.”

“I’m not sure you do want to know her better. She’s a wounded soul, poor thing.” Kathryn lathered more lotion on my back, working her thumbs into my obliques. It felt good just as a massage. “A tragic childhood.”

“What happened?” I was relaxing under her hands. The red-nailed hands that were now kneading the lotion into my glutes, squeezing my ass without reservation. ‘Kathryn’ didn’t answer as she continued down my thighs and calves. “Turn over, please,” she said.

I did, though I was hard. She must have observed this from behind her dark glasses, but she began with another handful of lotion on my feet, massaging the arches with her thumbs, gouging between my toes and pulling each one hard. She really knew how to do a good foot massage. Slowly she worked up my legs, pressing with long strokes, each one getting closer to my crotch.

“You’re all muscle and bone, Frank,” she said, kneeling on the chaise, leaning into the work. “What handsome legs; long and hairy, lean and hard. It’s a pleasure to do this for you.” Her robe was gaping around us both. I watched her supple body undulate as she rocked forward and back, rubbing in the lotion.

I saw above us the blue southern sky dotted with popcorn clouds, birds wheeling in the thermals; Ospreys and buzzards both sharing the sky. We were small to them there in our oasis amid the decay of Bateaux.

Her hands made their way to my cock after working the lotion into my abdomen and hips, teasing me with glancing touches, grazing me with her nails. “A penis is such a pre-historic looking organ,” she said, her face only inches away, cradling my pulsing manhood in her hand.

“It looks like an afterthought, really. What other part of a body is so soft and small, but also so hard and long, so grotesque. It’s not proportional, not…tidy. A beautiful kind of ugly, somehow.” She seemed almost to be talking to herself as she stroked the lotion into my erection.

Then she dropped me and worked more lotion into my chest, her breasts swinging above my cock. I wanted to reach up and pinch a nipple, trace the curve of her with the back of my hand. I was afraid to break the spell, still cautious, still not sure who I was talking and teasing with by the pool.

She removed my glasses, delicately smoothing the lotion into my face, massaging my forehead.

“That should do you for a while, Frank. With the sunscreen on you’ll be good for an hour before you burn. I think I’ll swim a bit. Once you are done tanning I have something I want to show you.” She stood, dropped the robe and slipped into the pool to stroke purposefully away. I ached with desire and watched her blurred form slice through the crystal water. Could I take her if I wasn’t sure who she was, if this was a weird game Charlotte was playing? No doubt I wanted the woman whatever her name was and she was working up to something. I was frozen with indecision.

It was too bright to keep my eyes open and the sun had it’s usual effect – I fell into a sleep, baked by the heat and the natural sounds of the island and the pool. I dreamed of a swamped red canoe and myself swimming beside it, pushing it through gentle waves, trying to drive it to a distant, unseen shore.


Kathryn woke me with a touch to the shoulder. “Come with me, Frank.”

“My glasses?”

“Where we’re going you won’t need glasses.”

She pulled me up briskly and led me along the brick path, both of us naked. I stepped gingerly on bare feet and moved cautiously because I was nearly blind. She, however, walked with a languid, stately grace, unbothered.

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