He wasn’t fully awake until he felt the ejaculation. He wasn’t fully tracking until he became Bogart.
“I don’t do this,” she said.
“Why? You’re a pretty woman, and we all have needs. It’s a bit animal, but the urge is one of the strongest we have.”
“I’m not a pretty woman, my husband was ashamed of me. I’m a frumpy old school teacher, if it weren’t for the fact that men like you are kind to me I’d end up an old maid.”
Suddenly, through the shame and the embarrassment, the teacher got booted in the ass. His student needed a lesson and he was responsible to teach it.
Sex, he understood. The reason was his first wife, who left him for a bigger house, car, bank account. When that happened, he vowed revenge. His long suit was learning, so he learned. Paid prostitutes to learn how. Read the manuals, went to the clubs and tried them out. By the time he was done he could give an orgasm to the Venus de Milo.
For almost a decade he made it a profession to seduce other men’s trophy wives. He outgrew it about the time Sherilyn was in his class. He indulged occasionally, usually when one or both parties deserved to have their relationship soured forever. Here was a case where the knowledge could be used in a good cause.
“What would ever make you think that you are not a pretty woman?” he said, dropping his hand between her knees and putting the other on her cheek to kiss her.
He stroked her slowly getting closer and closer to her clit, to be sure she was wet and it wouldn’t hurt. He started on top of her, as soon as she reacted as she had the night before, he turned her up on their sides and ran his hand down her legs, far enough to play with her foot before brushing his hand into her bush.
Finally, he turned her up on top of him. He pulled her knees forward, a position, which lifted her clit off him. He put one hand on her tit, his thumb on her clit and massaged her into an orgasm he could feel.
He turned her over next to him, she was limp, half in shock.
“You are a pretty woman, a very pretty woman, and every man who sees you wants you to do this with him.” He said as he kissed her and put his hand on her breast.
“You are a very smart woman, I know because I taught you, and that scares some of the men who would give everything they own to do this with you, just once.”
He dropped his hand to her knee and said as he brought it up over her crotch and breast to her cheek to say the last words with direct eye contact: “And you are the most beautiful woman I have ever had the privilege to make love to.”
“And that’s the way you left it Saturday morning?” said Arlette, stair stepping next to the free weights so she and Katie could talk to Rick.
“She was pretty much shell shocked.”
“She’s a pretty girl,” said Katie. “Doesn’t dress to her advantage and from what I’ve seen uses very little make-up. She could get overlooked, she’s the type that with a makeover would suddenly become the prettiest girl anywhere she went.”
“That she would,” said Arlette. “She’s signed up here as Sherilyn Roberts.”
“She has used her married name since the divorce. School teachers want to be missus Someone, saves getting hit on.”
“And her husband left her for exactly what again?”
“She said bleached blond, forty-inch chest and legs up to her neck.”
Katie looked at Arlette, “Roberts, it’s too much of a coincidence not to be.”
“She just walked in, so we’ll send Dr. Rick over to find out in a minute or two, and I can pull his records tomorrow.”
“What am I supposed to find out?”
“If her ex is Craig Roberts.”
“From your company?”
“That will be available on a need to know basis,” said Arlette. “Now, make like a good little spy.”
He walked over to her as she came out of the dressing room. She blushed as soon as she saw him.
“Hi gorgeous,” he said and she blushed more deeply.
“I was hoping you’d come in today.”
“I was hoping you’d be here.”
“So we’re good at it,” he said.
“Hoping. Let’s take a ride.”
“What’s your workout?” he asked.
“Mine too care to race?”
“Would there be a prize attached?”
“I certainly hope so.”
She blushed again.
He let them get into a rhythm before he started to talk.
“I’ve been wondering something.”
“I do some work for Katar, manuals for writing content and some other stuff. Anyway, the COO out there is Craig Roberts and he’s got a very flashy, trashy looking wife, with a set of knockers that are so foreign to the rest of her body they have to be silicone. Would he happen to be the ex?”
“He would. But Alexandra isn’t that trashy, I stopped going out with some of our mutual friends because she outclassed me so badly.”
“You have a serious self-image problem, if you think that painted up manikin outclasses you.”
“You don’t think she’s pretty?”
“In a very phony low-class way.”
“That doesn’t help much.”
“My self-image. It’s easier to accept losing your man to a beautiful woman, than to one that is phony and low class.”
“Wouldn’t it reflect the fact that he has bad taste rather than say anything about you?”
“It doesn’t feel that way.”
He won by two minutes. “I hope you are prepared to settle the debt this evening.” He said.
“I am sir.” She said as she headed to the elliptical and he walked back to the free weights.
“So?” said Arlette.
“How delicious,” said Katie.