CHAPTER ONE.
One of my best moments of my working days is when I’m driving home from work. I would wind my car window down and it’s usually quite breezy this time of the year in my city. The wind would rush into the car and my face will be awash with the strength of its beauty. I’m an avid admirer of anything beautiful and my tastes are usually considered elitist by friends and family alike. I love my wine very old, my music jazz, my paintings renaissance and my women very gorgeous. I have been called vain, I have been superfluous, but no one has argued that I have got class and I intend to keep it that way. This particular Saturday evening (it was the end of the month and we were busy at the office trying to close our accounts and file in all the necessary reports), I was enjoying my Diana Ross’s album as I drove home. The soft wind was tussling my hair and I was thinking about catching a game of hockey on my cable television when my phone began to buzz. The caller ID indicated Rosalind. I picked the call by pressing on a call button on my dashboard. Rosalind’s soft but husky voice filtered into my car. “Hello Darling,” she cooed. “Hello Rosalind. How was your flight?” “Got back a couple of hours ago. I’ve been unpacking.” Rosalind was the fashion editor of Vanity Fair, so she got to travel to exotic places around the world. “I’m thinking of coming over in a couple of hours…” Rosalind said, the unspoken request hanging in the air. I smiled. Classy women knew never to badge in on their boyfriends unannounced. “That would be splendid. I will make us some macaroni and cheese, or we could order Chinese.” “See you soon,” she beamed. Four hours later, Rosalind knocked on my door. Well, classy doesn’t exactly translate to being punctual, I shrugged as I pulled the door open. I always smelled Rosalind before I saw her signature flowery and sensual Elizabeth Arden scent wafted into the room just before she did. She cat-walked into my wide arms, her beautiful face aglow with her happiness which I was sure was mirrored in mine. As she leaned into me, I put my arms around her and dipped my head as I sought her lips. They were puckered, soft and succulent just as I remembered them. We hugged and kissed for five minutes before I pulled away. “I think I should put some food into you before I ravish you all night long,” I whispered. “You make eating sound so sensual,” she drooled. I had already laid the table with a three-course meal. Some caviar as appetizer, spicy spaghetti as the main course and fruit cake for dinner- everything had been prepared by me. I was borne into an Italian home where a man who did not possess outstanding culinary skills was not man enough. And trust me, my masculinity was never in question. A bottle of red wine was cooling off in an ice bucket and the display of ceramic bowls, glass wares and polished silverware was indeed a sight to behold. “You always know how to make a woman feel like a queen!” Rosalind enthused as I pulled out a chair for her at the table. Genevieve had said the same two nights ago and Belinda, last week. Yes, I was a classy man, but like my fathers of old, I did not believe in monogamy. All my ladies knew about this and they did not try to attain to more. I was quite a catch by any standard. I was good-looking, tall with a chiseled body from weekly hours at the gym. I had a nice apartment in the heart of the city and a nice ride to get around. I also knew how to take care of my ladies. Beauty appointments at the spa this weekend, a fun get away at Monaco the next or a shopping spree at Victoria’s secret. All that I asked in return was that they looked good and give me great sex in return. They also have to be highly placed women, making waves in their field of career and commanding respect from men and women alike. My job as the Managing Director of a stock-broking firm enabled me to live the kind of life, I have always craved for myself. I started from the bottom literally. My parents had owned a food chain back home in Italy. In the good old days, right in the middle of my teenage years, we had lived large until my dad and his brothers had lost almost all they had in the stock market crash. They had had to sell almost everything they had to stay afloat, and we moved into a tiny house in the city’s suburbs. I would never forget the terrible days we had experienced, dad picking up menial jobs and mum working her ass off at a banking job. After high school, I got a scholarship to study in Stanford University, and I have lived here ever since. I worked while I schooled sending almost all I earned home. I got to survive on the minimal allowance the government was paying me as a student on scholarship. My parents and siblings didn’t know how I was suffering to make their lives a lot less hard, and I will put up the best smile whenever I had to call home. My mum would always say, “I can feel the smile in your voice, Anthony. It makes me so happy.” I would gulp down my emotions, barely, as I said thank you to her. I eventually graduated top of my class and got recruited by a top financial firm where I was furnished with a house and a car. At this point, I worked to bring in my entire family into the United States, both immediate and extended. This was a feat I achieved in five years as I continued to distinguish myself at work and getting promoted within short time periods. Ten years later, at thirty-six, I was working at one of the best stock-broking firms in the country, my parents were living in a house of their own, my uncles were doing fine too, and my siblings and cousins were either earning their degrees or working and married. My only single sibling was my twenty-six-year-old sister who is teaching in an arts college in Dallas. We always teased each other about getting married and settling down. ***************************************************************** Rosalind was a fun companion to always have over. She would dance for me and drag me to go swimming. She was an exceptional dancer and she was a lover. Her prowess in bed always left me gasping, always left me wanting more. When she left on Sunday evening, I was feeling satiated and really good. This was going to be a great week indeed. I could feel like. Well, I guess for once, my instincts betrayed me because when I got into the office on Monday morning, there was a lady shouting the place down. “I want to see your Managing Director, and I want to see him now. I can’t believe how crappy your services are! You cost my company fifty thousand dollars on Friday, and I intend to have that repatriated immediately!” Her back was turned and as I was watched her gesticulating widely in front of my PA’s desk, I wondered how such a petite body could house so much anger. As I passed into my office, I told my PA to send her in without turning their way. I was putting my jacket away and adjusting my tie when she stomped in. “Mr. MD, or whatever your name is, I think you and your organization fail to realize how much some of us put into setting up our businesses. We had to give everything we had to build it from the ground up, and yet you put our stock at jeopardy. What the hell were you thinking?!” “Well, my name is not MD, Tony will suffice. Can you kindly take a seat, and I promise you that we will sort this thing out.” I gesticulated to the empty chair facing my desk as I sat down myself. For the first time, I regarded her closely. She had the most beautiful face I had ever seen, bereft of every trace of make-up. She had wide, full lips with the perfect dentition. Her eyes were white, round and big and she had a mass of natural curls on her head. God! She was so pretty! Not in the way I was used to. No, no, that overly sophisticated, extremely curvy and obviously sensual thing my girlfriends had about them. This lady was beautiful in a delicate way; she was barely curvy, no visible cleavage as her dress had a high neck. She was just like a breath of fresh air! “So how can we be of help to you please?” “My broker called me about a lucrative trade that was to happen yesterday. I gave him the go ahead to buy these shares for my company but alas, I woke up this morning to realize that this deal had not been made and I lost out on a fifty-thousand-dollar worth of opportunity. My practice is my life, I have invested everything I have got into this and I really need it to work. If you guys cannot handle my stock, then I would rather make the move to another competent company.” “I’m so sorry about this incident Miss…” “Thelma Bunchild.” “I’m really sorry about this Miss Bunchild. Please who is the personal broker?” “Alan Costner.” I reached for my intercom and asked Sarah, my PA to ask Alan to see me immediately. “Would you like a cup of coffee or tea while we wait?” “I’m fine,” she replied. As angry as I know she was, I still couldn’t help but admire her unique beauty. Her curls were pulled a bit from her forehead and held in place with a stylishly tied green scarf. Her forehead was creased with thin lines of worries and she kept typing furiously away on her phone keypad. Just as I was about to reassure her again, Alan walked into my office clutching his iPad and his tie had the rumpled look of one who had spent all morning pulling away furiously on it. Alan always had a rumpled tie and they looked quite askew on his perfectly ironed shirt and trousers. Everyone around the office knew that Alan was one of the most hardworking staff, and he always pulled away at his ties when he was under pressure or trying to make a big decision. He acknowledged me and Miss Bunchild while I gestured towards an empty seat. He sat down and I proceeded. “Miss Bunchild here has a complaint about her shares. That you forfeited a deal, she asked you to make costing her fifty thousand dollars.” “Oh no, I did make that trade. It probably didn’t reflect on your account on time due to a system error. I’m really sorry about that, but if you check your account now, you will see that you are about fifty thousand dollars richer.” I watched Miss turn pink with embarrassment; then she turned to face Alan. “Oh, I should have called you before I stormed in here seeking a redress. I’m really sorry for causing you all these stress…” “It’s really nothing. We should fix our server, so our clients get their updates as soon as possible,” I added. Alan talked with Miss Bunchild for a bit before he nodded and took his leave. “I’m so embarrassed,” she moaned, facing me, “I really should have made contact with him first. It’s just that those stocks are a part of my inheritance from my late grandfather. I sold a part of it to obtain my PhD in Child Psychology and I just rented my office space on Tenth Avenue. I intend to start practicing soon. So you see why I’m guiding this jealously.” “Trust me, I know what it is to put in all you have into a project and to be very frantic about it. Believe me, we have our interest at heart and we will never put your reserve at risk. I’m truly proud of your achievements, your focus and your drive and I’m very sure your practice will be a great success.” I practically saw her relax and her shoulders drop as I spoke and for the first time, she smiled. And it was a very beautiful smile.
“You’re a really nice person. I can almost imagine how all of these would have gone south if you had not been the voice of reason. And I’m supposed to be the psychologist here.” “You shouldn’t be so hard on yourself. Almost every one of us will act the same way if faced with a similar circumstance. It just goes to show how much you care about your career and that you will take no chances with your investments. It is a good thing, Miss Bunchild.” “You can call me Thelma,” she said giving me another beautiful smile. I was mesmerized. Not only was this lady beautiful, she was very intelligent, hardworking and smart. I wanted to know her more. I wanted her to stay a bit more. Like a thirsty man gasping for a drop of water, I found myself opening up to Thelma. This was something I never did. But I would do anything to keep her. To listen to her soft voice a little longer. “Maybe I could make you my personal therapist. I’m going through a weird phase in my life, relationship wise. I probably could do with talking to someone,” I said. “Why not? I would gladly offer my services pro bono. After causing you all these troubles this early in the morning, I owe you. So I’m going to give you my contact. You can reach me whenever you want and we will talk.” I have never been happier. She reached into her purse and pulled a business card. Then she used a pen to scribble something on the back before handing it to me. “That’s my business card. I had my mobile number written at the back. This way, you can reach me when I’m at home or in the office.” With that, she stood up, extended her hand for a shake and took her leave. As she walked away, I had a good display of her ass and they were big, round and perfect. They were better than anyone I had ever seen. She had the slimmest waist ever, and her ass had a beautiful rhythm that had me licking my lips unconsciously. For the rest of the day, Thelma was the most predominant thing on my mind. Her beautiful face, her bright smile, her small breasts, her tiny waist and her big ass. Most of all I kept thinking about her lips, about kissing them and having her moan my name with that sweet, soft voice. By the time I got home that evening, I was fully erect because of how naughty my thoughts had been. I made a booty call to Belinda and she was in my house in less than an hour’s time. Immediately she came through the door, I flung her bag from her shoulders and pulled her into my arms. I began to kiss and grope her with frenzy and I couldn’t even wait for her to pull off her clothes. I turned her against the wall, pulled up her skirt and fucked her right there in my living room, fully clothed. After that, we had three more rounds before we finally fell into a deep sleep. She left first thing in the morning, but I found that I still couldn’t stop thinking about Thelma. I had another hard day at work trying to conceal my hard-on. When I couldn’t take it anymore, I called Thelma on her mobile number. “Hello,” her sweet voice came over the speaker sounding crisp. “This is Tony from Finn and Co. Stockbrokers Ltd.” “Hey Tony!” and just like that, her voice lost the edge. I smiled. “I was just thinking about your offer, and I don’t know if you are free for an early lunch on Third Avenue. I can pick you up in say, thirty minutes,” I tried to sound calm, self-assured, anything but desperate. I had a feeling I wasn’t succeeding. “That will be lovely Tony. I look forward to seeing you.” Twenty-five minutes later, I was waiting in the reception lounge of her office as she finished up with a client. I looked around the room and was impressed, the colors of the wall and furniture were complimentary, and the whole arrangement gave off a relaxing but business look at the same time. The room was cozy but was in no way shabby. I was skimming through a magazine on mental health when she walked out of her office. She smiled as she came briskly towards me. She was wearing a short, business-like skirt, a very clean white chiffon shirt and a pretty grey-colored blazer, almost the same hue with her skirt. Her mass of curly hair had been pulled into a tight bun at the back of her head. Just like the last time, there was no trace of make-up on her face. I stood up as she reached me. Just as I extended a hand, she leaned in and gave me a quick hug. I was caught in the warm, flowery scent of her perfume. “Hello Tony. Sorry for keeping you waiting. Can we be on our way now?” I nodded and we walked towards the elevator. “You look different,” I said to her when we got into the elevator and hit the button for the basement where the garage is located. “Yeah, I know I look really flustered.” “Oh no! I mean you look really… beautiful and very official.” “Uhmmmm. Thank you.” And she smiled again. “I can see that your practice is already picking up.” I noted. “Well. Just before I started, I visited some schools in the neighborhood and offered to give some free services to about ten kids. So I’m starting with these ones first. Let’s see how it goes from here.” At this point, we had reached the garage and walked to my car. I opened the car door for her and when she got in, I closed it. Then I went round and got behind the wheel. Soon we were cruising down to Third Avenue. “That’s a really wonderful thing you’re doing for those kids you know. So many kids out there just need someone to talk to, someone to care about them…” “Yeah. I have always been concerned about the mental state of children and teenagers. You find that most messed up adults who are now a burden to our society. They started out as being kids who had a terrible childhood but had no one to talk to. So they grow up with these repressed emotions and all these hurts and wrong ideas about life. That’s why you find that most men who abuse their wife and kids where once kids who were abused themselves. The cycle continues if we don’t do a thing about them. Children are a really important part of our society. They are our future. If we don’t get it right with them, then we stand to lose a lot along the way. It’s also sad that our legislative and justice systems have so many lapses especially when it comes to protecting abused kids or children who are at risk.” We had gotten to the restaurant at this point. “Oops. I’m so sorry I have been blabbing non-stop. At the mention of kids and psychology, my mouth begins to run like a faulty faucet.” I laughed at her analogy. “I don’t think you were blabbing. In fact, you are very interesting to listen to. You are very deep and intelligent and also very passionate about the wellbeing of children. That’s fucking awesome.” “Oh Tony, you’re just going to make me blush to death.” We got into the restaurant, got a seat and made our orders. We made light talk about the weather and the city as we waited to be served. Soon the waiter brought in our steaming plates of Chinese curry rice, chicken and bottles of water and freshly squeezed glasses of lemonade. We sank into our food and found it really tasty. Thelma didn’t hold back her praises. “This chicken is so delicious, properly seasoned and well cooked. And the rice is just the right kind of spicy. Ohh, this is wonderful!” Thelma enthused. “You seemed just about ready to have a food-gasm,” I teased her. she laughed and said, “And trust me, that’s the best kind of orgasm ever. Oh yes, I’m a foodie!” “You don’t look any bit like one.” “Trust me, besides counseling, the next thing I love more is food. I love to read about food; I binge on food channels; I also love concocting new dishes all the time. And best of all, I love eating food. During my last trip to Paris, I spent most of my time discovering places to eat and trying out their most exotic dishes. It was such a beautiful experience.”
As she spoke, I watched the light in her eyes. She was so happy and full of life, and there was nothing superficial there. “I’m sorry, I just keep talking and talking when we should be talking about you. So what do you want to talk about Tony?” I took a small sip of my juice before I responded. “I think I’m a sex addict.” I watched her expression go from being shocked to being professionally expressionless in a manner of seconds. It was obvious that she hadn’t seen my confession coming. “What makes you think so?” she asked. “That I’m addicted to sex?” She nodded. “Well, I have three sex partners presently. I wouldn’t say I’m dating any of them. I’ve never been interested in sharing anything intimate with them besides sex. And usually, when we’re done fucking, I can’t wait for them to leave.” “Go on,” she urged. “I think it all began when I had to leave my parents in Italy at a young age to start college in the United States. The pressure to be successful was high and then I was incredibly lonely. The only way I could take this edge off was to have sex. Lots and lots of sex. And trust me, I’m a stallion in bed. Most times, I exhaust my partners.” “Ok then. So do you think this is a problem? Why the need to seek therapy?” “I feel like there is something wrong with me. Like I’m unable to pursue deep and lasting relationships. I find myself unable to connect emotionally with the women I’m sexually involved with. Maybe I want this. Maybe I need this connection. Maybe what is holding me back from this is this addiction.” “Maybe you haven’t found the person with whom you could connect with in this way,” she said softly. I looked at her with questions in my eyes. “Well, from your story, you don’t really fit the profile of a sex addict. Like I think you just like to explore and sex is like a sport to you. And maybe if you meet someone with whom you can connect with and still have all your crazy sexual fantasies, you will be fine.” “So you think there is still hope for me?” Thelma smiled. “Yes, I think so. I believe that love is a beautiful thing that brings a lot of healing in its wake. I feel that everyone should get to experience this wonderful feeling. So keep your mind open, Tony.” I don’t know how to explain this, but I was feeling so much lighter emotionally. Talking to Thelma was doing me a world of good. CHAPTER TWO I’ve never been in love before save for a one-year relationship in my third year at the university. Sometimes when I think back to it, I really can’t say if I was really in love or just obsessed. I would do anything she wanted no matter how much of a sacrifice it was on my part. We moved in together after six months of dating, and I thought it was the most beautiful thing in the world. Diana was smart, beautiful and she had the longest hair I have ever seen. Everyone on campus wanted her and I thought I was so lucky to have her all to myself. That was until I caught her having sex with another man right in our apartment. I had been so broken and hurt that I moved out the next day. That was when I discovered my crazy side and became a renowned playboy. I had the hottest girls in school breezing in and out of my apartment every other day. I didn’t even have much to give them, but I had a good reputation going on for me. I was handsome, intelligent and crazy in bed. All the guys wanted a share of the fantastic sexual experience they have been hearing about and I did not disappoint. Towards the end of my stay in the university, Diana tried to get back with me again, but I was fucking done with her. I was also completely done with dating and putting my heart and emotions on the line for any girl. Anyway, I played along with Diana, but what I was interested in was in humiliating her and breaking her spirit. I asked her to give me a blowjob in front of my friends at a night party. She was so surprised that I could make such requests. The Tony she knew was pliable and gentle. When she looked into my eyes and saw how serious I was, she got down on her knees and gave me that blowjob. My friends started to hail me and the news travelled far and I was officially stamped the baddest of them all. Diana would still not leave me alone so I took the humiliated a notch further. I told her I wanted a threesome and she was to provide the other girl. A week later, she came to my apartment with one of the hottest girls on campus and I fucked both of them crazy. After that, I stopped picking Diana’s calls and she eventually gave up. I have never told anyone about Diana because it reminded me of a time in my life I wanted to forget. I had been terribly hurt and so I told anyone who cared to ask that I had never been in love before. And so I didn’t tell Thelma either. I dropped her back at her office after lunch and proceeded to mine. Later that night, Belinda came over and I really wasn’t feeling motivated to do anything. I concentrated on the documents I was going through in m study and when she got tired of my inattention, she left. As soon as I was done with my file, I decided to do a bit of work out before taking a shower and going to bed. As soon as I got out of the bathroom, I got a message from Thelma. “Thank you for lunch today. Thank you also for sharing your story,” it read. I smiled as she had been on my mind all evening. I decided to settle down and chat with her. ME: The pleasure is all mine, Thelma. You’re amazing company and I felt better for talking to you. Her response came almost immediately. THELMA: You flatter me too much. I’m glad I could be of help. I’m always here if you ever have a need to unburden. ME: Am I not just one lucky chap to have met you? THELMA: LOL. You’re still at it. Anyway, when are you going to bed? ME: I just had my bath. Sleeping soon. THELMA: Aren’t you just so lucky? ME:
Why so? THELMA: I’m Insomniac. ME: I can keep you company for a few minutes if you care for it. THELMA: Ohh. Wow. I care! ME: Lol. Let’s play a game of truth and dare. We both get three chances. THELMA: Sounds interesting! I will go first then. Emmm… how many ladies are you presently sleeping with? ME: Just three. THELMA: Nice. Your turn. ME: Tell me about your most awkward sexual experience. THELMA: Ohh no! ME: Ohh yes! THELMA: Okay. I was 22. In college. My boyfriend and I were busy in the backseat of the car when a cop pulled over. We were parked in a somewhat deserted park. My boobs were dangling and my boyfriend was banging my ass when the cop knocked on the door. The windows had been wound down all along. I quickly pulled away so I could cover myself and my boyfriend who was on the verge of ejaculation had ended up spilling his semen all over me and the said cop. It was the craziest thing ever. ME: OMG! I’ve never heard anything more crazy. THELMA: It was horrible and funny at the same time. ME: I’m almost choking on my laughter here. THELMA: Laugh all you want, but it’s my turn now. ME: Okay, go ahead. Although I doubt anything I’ve to say would be this spectacular. THELMA: You will never know. Well, I dare you to send me a picture of you as you are right now. ME: Not a big deal. THELMA: Well, send it. ME: Head shot? Bust or full? THELMA: Full
I had to go into the bathroom and take a full shot in front of my mirror and sent it to her. THELMA: Wow. I like what I see. Can you lose the towel though? ME: You can’t make two requests in one turn. So wait. THELMA: Killjoy! Well, it’s your turn. ME: Send a picture of yourself as you are right now. THELMA: Copycat! Then she went on to send a picture where she’s lying on her pillow, her mass of curly hair scattered all over it. She also had on a white, silky, sleeveless nightwear, and I could almost see the outline of her nipples against it. She looked so breath-takingly beautiful. I suddenly had a strong urge to kiss her. ME: You’re stunning. THELMA: I know! *tongue out emoticon* *wink smiley* ME: You would have thought you are this narcissistic! *tongue in cheek* THELMA: Life would be boring without some touch of narcissism. ME: …and a dash of vanity. THELMA: Vanity and narcissism go hand in hand. It’s impossible to find one without the other. ME: Very true. Well, we are in the final rounds of our truth or dare game, and I daresay we have had some fun, haven’t we? THELMA: Massive fun! ME: So I encourage you milady to use your last chance wisely. *wink smiley* THELMA: Yes milord. *rubs hands excitedly* ME: I’m scared! *tongue out* THELMA: *Rolls eyes* ME: Bring it on already! The suspense is killing me. THELMA: What’s your biggest fear? ME: Wow. I didn’t see that coming. I thought you were going to ask me to lose my towel.
THELMA: That’s me, man. I’m all about the shock factor. You never see me coming and then I’m like BAM in your face. ME: Emmm… take it easy. You’re not actually a gangster. THELMA: Duhh. You are just jealous. Well just answer me already. ME: My biggest fear is failure. I hate to fail at anything, really. The thought of failure kept me awake in college and when I had just started working afterwards. That fear is real. But I think it keeps me on my toes. THELMA: Interesting. You’re ambitious, fierce, handsome and a sex freak. Bad-ass combo. ME: LMAO. Someone has really got me all figured out. But thanks all the same. THELMA: Alright. It’s your turn. I will reiterate what you said by asking you to make good use of your last question. ME: Ohhh. I’m just going to be a copycat and ask you what your biggest fear is. THELMA: Common! ME: Let’ s just say you ask interesting questions so… THELMA: My biggest fear… let’s see. I’m scared of so many things. I can’t deal, man! ME: Go on and list them. THELMA: I’m scared of clowns… ME: That’s called coulrophobia, right? THELMA: Yeah. I’m mighty scared of snakes! ME: Ophidiophobia! THELMA: I’m equally scared of rats. ME: Murophobia! THELMA: I’m scared of heights and enclosed spaces too. ME: Acrophobia and claustrophobia respectively. THELMA: Wow. You’re very intelligent sir. You actually should be the psychologist here. ME:
I wish! This is actually because I loved to read the Guinness World Records magazine when I was much younger. I had this aunt who had subscribed for them, so they arrived quarterly or so. Now you see why I know a lot about strange things. THELMA: That’s really nice. Well, now you know a lot about me. If you use them against me, I will destroy you. ME: Hehehe. Are you daring me? THELMA: Yes, please. To drop your towel. *wink* *wink* ME: No way! You missed your chance. Don’t add greed to your narcissism. That’s too much vice for one soul, Ma’am. THELMA: LMAO. I hear you. Anyway, I think I’m sleepy now. We should get to bed already. It’s quite late. ME: It really is! 1:30AM! How did time get away so fast?! THELMA: They say time runs faster when one is having fun and we really did have lots of it. Thank you for staying up with me. You really are a good friend. I owe you one. ME: Trust me, I will collect! THELMA: Good night then. Talk to you soon. ME: Good night beautiful! ********************************************************** The days that ensued I was taken up with Thelma that I totally forgot about Rosalind, Genevieve and Belinda. About two weeks after meeting Thelma, Belinda sent me a voice message that she was coming over to the house. I had just gotten home from the office when I played the message. I felt a bit bad because I had promised her a weekend trip to the beach last weekend and I had forgotten all about her. Belinda was a very beautiful blonde with legs for days. And she had an amazing voice one she was putting to good use. I first met her at The Trumpets, an elitist night club where I had hosted a few, very wealthy prospective clients to a night out with some drinks and good music. She was the guest artist for the night and so when she was introduced, she came on stage with her jazz band and sang in one of the sweetest and yet sorrowful voice I had ever listened. There and then I told myself I will sleep with her. I didn’t approach her that night. I’ve got too much finesse for that though. Besides, I had a reputation I had to maintain with my clients. Luckily for me, they signed the deal with my company that night. Two days later, I returned to The Trumpets and went straight to see the manager. We were on very good terms because of my frequent patronage. So I asked him for her contact. He gave it to me. I called her and booked her for my office party two weekends away. She was so happy because the job came with a handsome pay. It was at the party, I introduced myself and we got talking. After a while, I said to her, “You know what your voice does to me? It makes me want to fuck you.” She laughed and did not say a word. The next day I took her to a friend’s backyard barbeque party and we had a lot of meat and drinks until we were intoxicated. I was even more intoxicated than she was. She laughed and teased me about my low alcohol i