The Fan Club

The off-colour remark left me stunned. Sure, I knew that the girls at the office found me attractive, because that was part of the territory of being single. Plenty of these women, indeed most, were married, but that didn't stop them from looking.

My profession didn't hurt, either. The only differences between an attorney back in Wales and one here in the States are that you have a lot more money and far more status. It's not even called the same thing. In the UK, I was a barrister. Here in the States, I'm an ATTORNEY. It says everything and women KNOW it.

Whoever thinks that women are less shallow than men is fooling himself (or herself). Whereas men are consumed with lust for the woman's body, attracted to attitudes, and fascinated with facial expressions, women might as well look at a man's checkbook on the first date. It would be more honest.

They want a powerful man with financial security, though they are sometimes unaware that some of those men are pricks and workaholics who will neglect them. That American country song "Little Rock" says everything for these women a decade down the road.

My firm, Fulton, Morton, and Steiner, had recently made me a partner, which also enhanced my standing. They were still somewhat concerned about the effect of promoting a gruff, hard-drinking Welshman to full partnership. My long, red hair, sideburns, thick accent, Harris tweed suits, and fondness for cigars and Scotch made me rather conspicuous.

However, for many of the lasses at the office, those qualities made me seem an "alpha male", manly and worthy of their admiration. Though they teased me about my quirks and my title, they also found them quite fascinating in a sexual way. Of course, they were ignorant enough to think me a knight, when in fact I'm a baronet. That's a hereditary title, so I can't be blamed for having it.

Anyway, the statement in question affected me, although I'm rather accustomed to being propositioned, especially since my divorce. Casey, a sassy brunette in her mid-20s, simply pointed out that I had quite a fan club. When I asked her to elaborate as to why I would have a following, she simply said that I was a superstar in her dreams and those of her colleagues.

"I would have thought that you would be dreaming about your husband," I teased her.

"Him? He's not a dream. He's a NIGHTMARE!" she retorted.

"I wouldn't know anything about that. In any case, where do I come in?" I probed.

"For one thing, Sir Cecil, you're the first knight I've ever met. It's not everyday a girl runs into the real thing. You're the closest thing to a celebrity that I've ever known and the same goes for my friends. That's where you CUM in," she winked at me.

"Actually, I'm not a knight at all. I'm a baronet. I was born with the title and if I ever get my citizenship, I'll have to give it up. Don't look toward to being 'Lady Evans'. There's already two of those and they'll keep their titles even after I lose mine. The first is my Mother and the 2nd is my ex-wife," I corrected her.

"Do you have a castle? If so, can you take me there?" she continued to taunt me.

Erica, another of the associates at the firm, overheard that and giggled.

"Really, Case, you're incredible! Just because he's the most eligible bachelor here doesn't mean that you have to chase him. For one thing, you're a married woman. Doesn't that make YOU less than available?" she pointed out.

"Yeah, you just want to keep him to yourself. You just LOVE to play up your single status to knock out the competition. I'd leave Percy in a minute if our Welsh friend here would have me. It's not like my husband is using me. Not that I wouldn't jump my man's bones if he offered. He is still a cute guy. He just doesn't have any use for me," Casey explained.

"Casey, we don't need to hear about your sex life, or lack thereof! Have you ever thought of seducing him? Wear something naughty and get his attention, instead of whining and trying to get another man into bed," Erica scolded her.

"Like that would work? I've fucking tried already! I've suggested counseling, for God's sake! No dice! And you just want this guy for yourself anyway," Casey countered.

"If I do, it will be perfectly okay, as I'm SINGLE, alright?" Erica shouted at her, while I used the chance to get away from the women staging an impromptu catfight for my benefit.

Both ladies were very hot and their attraction to me was flattering, but I didn't need this kind of trouble. I knew, for one thing, that Percy would get every bit as pissed as I had when I caught Gwen in bed with our friend Dafyd.

I certainly didn't become celibate when I left Cardiff and Gwen behind me. Quite a few ladies had given me whatever I wanted. Erica was a rather sexy blonde and Casey had her share of charms, but I was convinced that the latter's only complaint about her marriage was the lack of sex. As for the former, well, she was "husband-shopping" too. I could tell. The last thing that I wanted was a new WIFE, damn it!

What exactly Percy had against banging his own wife was hard to know and he certainly didn't have the right to deprive her and expect fidelity (nor should she if the situation was reversed). However, the problem was fairly new and the marriage quite salvageable in my opinion. Just 4 months before, Casey had come back from maternity leave after giving birth to her 3rd child! Maybe the hubby was just giving her an extra month to heal, for all I knew.

Not surprisingly, with my luck, I wasn't to be left alone. June Thomas was there. The trouble with June was simple: she was something of a presumed lesbian. This DID mean that I wasn't as annoyed to see her, but I still wanted to be left to my work and my thoughts, not a conversation, even with the one girl that I felt certain wouldn't be trying to snare me into wedlock.

"Cecil, you can't run away from the girls here forever. You're going to have to deal with their obsession with you. I know what you're thinking: I just want to meet the ladies at the pub, drink with them, and have as many one-night stands as I wish.

"You're not too thrilled with the women here, because you think they're out for a diamond ring and an Mrs. I can understand that. You've been jaundiced on the whole idea of marriage since your divorce. I can't blame you. I felt the same way when George left me.

"As a matter of fact, I've been chasing women off for the same reason. I still don't want to marry. But, then again, I have my own reasons. Be that as it may, you're going to have to confront their pursuit of you," she explained.

"Well, seriously, June, what kind of a hypocrite will leave a man alone because he's married, while having no qualms about the idea of cheating on her own husband? That's the kind of woman Casey is, for instance. And she's not the only one, you know," I pointed out irritably.

"Oh, I'm not so sure about that with Casey, but I do get your point. Some women are like that, including several here. It's a silly double standard in a way, but it has more to do with friendship and not betraying a friend, a sense of loyalty than a consistent or deliberate hypocrisy on their part. Make no mistake, many of these women would gladly sleep with a married man if they hated his wife," June commented.

"In other words, they feel more loyalty to their friends than they do to their husbands. Sure, that makes sense!" I sarcastically reacted.

"I know that sounds wrong, but that's exactly it for many of them. Bear in mind that many of them have no fixed set of values, just a code of manners that has been drummed into them by their favorite magazines. They don't think consistently at all. They don't have your impressive sense of honor and noblesse oblige. Their friends matter to them, in terms of their status, in a way that their husbands can't, because the former are more permanent than the latter," Ms. Thomas stated baldly.

"You definitely know your own sex," I teased her, albeit gratefully in light of her information.

"Sleeping with them doesn't hurt. And yes, early on in my experiences as a bisexual woman, I did fuck married women, not all of them in a swinging context. I know what drives women to cheat. I know their excuses and rationalizations.

"I still do it with married women from time to time, but only with certain requirements. They have to have their men's permissions or be wronged somehow seriously by the men in question. Otherwise, I will refuse to do that to an innocent man," June clarified.

"Glad to know that you have ethics. So, you're bi, not gay? Well, I won't ask you to 'pick a team' as some idiots do. That sort of thing is probably one of the things that turn you off marriage, isn't it?" I probed.

"Indeed. Say, since you clearly are horny, but don't want to get involved with someone who will be jealous, how about a friendly deal?" she inquired eagerly.

"What sort of a deal?" I demanded.

"We fuck, but don't ask questions about whom else we have. This is not about love or commitment, certainly not about monogamy. It's just friends fucking friends for fun. How does that strike your fancy?" she offered.

So, there it was. The one woman that I thought DIDN'T want my body was just like the others in that respect, though not in the other aspects. Then again, lust was never the issue that bothered me. I'm not a bloody prude, after all.

I just didn't want some controlling bitch insisting on a rock in 2 months and spying on me. I wanted to have the right to come and go where I pleased, enjoying my new freedom. After all, I had sacrificed that to be with Gwen and look what she did to me! I was in no mood to trade in my recently recovered manhood for the false promise of regular companionship.

June, however, was proposing something open, forthright, and tangible. She had always struck me as being unusually down-to-earth and this proffered arrangement was no different. It was vintage June Thomas: candid, direct, and practical.

"Very well, June. I can trust you in a way that I can't with the other women here. You're not politically correct or sanctimonious. You're straightforward, gutsy, and pleasantly concise about things. You're strong and smart, but not emasculating. And you are attractive without being prissy or vain. I have to admit to finding you sexy, so let's go ahead with this idea and see where it leads. It would be nice to sleep with someone who isn't given to bullshit," I remarked.

"Well, I am a Capricorn, after all. We're very sensible people. What about you? What's your sign, out of curiosity?" she asked me casually.

"Libra, I think. I'm all about fairness and honesty. I like common sense and justice. That's probably why I'm an attorney. You know, that impresses me, that you're not ashamed to mention astrology. A lot of people see it as junk science and dismiss it too quickly, whereas I think it has real value. That's a major difference. There's more to the zodiac than daily horoscopes devised by editors and columnists," I stated.

"True. On a different matter, though, I do think that you should eventually give these girls what they want. Just hold them to your terms. For centuries, we women have used our bodies to gain favors and make demands of men. Why not turn the tables on them? They really are something of a fan club, so they'll do whatever it takes to bed the handsome and roguish Welsh lawyer for whom they lust," June suggested.

"Pragmatic to the end, eh? Well, your advice makes sense, so if they should approach you for inside knowledge, tell them this: they must not ask for marriage, leave their husbands for me, lie to their husbands about me, or try to keep other women away from me. They must do whatever I ask of them, without hesitating or resisting. They must not try to control me. They must not deny either of their men (me or their husbands) sex or claim exclusive rights to us. After all, what's good for Jack is just as good for Jill, isn't it?" I rattled off my list of conditions.

"Anything else, or should I tell your fan club that's all you ask of them?" she winked at me.

"Oh, yes, if I give them something, they must thank me and wait at least a day before asking for more money or gifts. That's only polite, isn't?" I informed her, quite seriously.

"Of course," June agreed.

"You're helping them, aren't you?" I accused her, suddenly paranoid.

"Not as such. They didn't ask me as a group to help them seduce you, but I just know that they would pay a good price for the chance to fuck you and I think, as a friend, that I should help you benefit from their desperation," she replied.

"Well, they are too much at odds right now to co-operate anyway, so that was silly of me. I'm curious, though, as to what pleasure you get out of this. What's your motive?" I wondered.

"I get the considerable pleasure and honor of knowing that I got you first and they owe their fun to me. You might say that I'm the president of the fan club. When they know that I've fucked you before they did, they'll have to recognize me for that and not dismiss me as being a lesbian instead of a serious rival. I also hope to get some pussy out of this. I would love to make those snotty bitches eat me out, lick my ass, and take my strap-on up their sore cunts," she laughed.

"Believe me, if this plan works out, they shall. You'll get all of the tail that you could ever want, since you'll be helping me get it fuss-free. So, president of the fan club? All of this time, I never took you for more than a friendly colleague. You have shocked me, June. I just thought we were platonic," I noted.

"Played it cool, didn't I? What you didn't know was that I used up several vibrators fantasizing about you. I definitely wanted to do it with you, even if I hid it well," she related flirtatiously.

"Wow, in your own way, you're as coquettish as any of the others! By the way, why exactly did George leave you? I've got to know. I'm just curious whether it had anything to with your sexuality," I asked her.

"As a matter of fact, it did. George is what you'd call a religious fanatic. He got hooked on some cult and convinced that homosexuality is an 'abomination'. So, when I told him I was bisexual, simply trying to be honest with him, he flipped his lid. It didn't matter that I assured him that we would only swing if both of us wanted it and that I wouldn't cheat on him with women. He was convinced that I was a 'deviate' and wouldn't touch me.

"I tried to level with the man and communicate him, honestly and openly, the way couples are supposed to do, but he freaked out on me. Accused me of being a lesbian and sleeping with my friends. Finally, he filed for divorce on the grounds of adultery.

"After that, I had little interest in marriage and still don't. I need to explore my sexuality and enjoy my life. Sex is a basic human need, like food, water, or air. As such, it is also a right. I was willing to sacrifice complete fulfillment for my marriage that already existed, but I wasn't about to enter a new one that would require such a major act of self-denial. It's just not me," she declared.

"That explains a lot. What cult was it, out of curiosity? They're not the door-knocking type, are they now?" I inquired.

"Yes, he's a Moonie, or at least he was at the time. You know, they believe that Reverend Moon is the new Messiah, or something like that," she rattled off, still a bit upset about the matter.

"Ah, yes, that guy! Didn't he go to prison for a while? Tax evasion or something like that?" I questioned her.

"Yes, and he also slept with some of his female followers, but that's another issue. He controls a major right-wing newspaper," she told me.

"Well, enough about that. Would you like to come home with me tonight and enjoy a nightcap?" I finally suggested to her.

"There's no need for euphemisms, Cecil, but I would love to 'shag' you. I haven't been with a member of the OPPOSITE sex in quite a while. I've been so busy experiencing the Sapphic side of myself for the past few months," she agreed.

"Well, if you're rusty, I'm more than willing to help you get some practice. I shall certainly enjoy fucking you. I must warn you that I like to bugger women. I hope that doesn't disgust you," I answered her.

"Why would it? I love anal as well. The idea of being first in the office to get your nice cock in my backdoor would please me very much," June stated.

That night, I showed up at Ms. Thomas's flat and she met me in something from one of the lingerie stores. I didn't know it was Victoria's Secret or Frederick's of Hollywood, but that was irrelevant. I was about to enjoy my new "friend with benefits" at the firm.

"I suppose that you actually DO want a nightcap before we do this, Cecil. After all, I don't intend to sleep alone tonight. If I have my way, you won't be driving home. You like Scotch, right?" she flirted with me.

"Yes, thank you, darling. I'll take a shot, on the rocks with no chaser," I agreed.

"Very well. I have some Glenlivet left. Yes, I spent a little extra to please you, hoping to have the chance. I'll make a Long Island Ice Tea for myself. That's my absolute favorite drink. George used to like Brandy Alexanders before he converted to the Unification Church. Now he's a teetotaler. Guess he saves money on milk, anyway. I suppose that he traded one drug, namely alcohol, for another: the Moonie worldview," June commented as she poured me a glass of 12 year old Scotch and some ice cubes.

She then mixed herself up a Long Island and we stood in the kitchen together, drinking our poisons and looking at each other in a more obviously lustful way than in the past. She had straight, shoulder-length black hair. Her eyes were a color that I could have sworn was turquoise. She had a fair skin that easily got sun-burned. Despite the usual tomboyish front that she put on, she could be quite charming and feminine when she chose to be.

She was hardly a thin lady, but she wasn't obese, either. In spite of her smoking habit, there were few signs of tobacco stains on her. Apparently, she must have cleaned up the traces of her nicotine dependency a lot. Since I smoked cigars, I could hardly condemn her for inhaling a pack of Virginia Slims, or whatever brand she used.

June, who had reverted to her maiden name after her divorce, was made partner a week after myself. Fulton, Morton, and Steiner was a "strict seniority" kind of firm. Experience and knowledge of the law mattered to them. They promoted you ONLY when you qualified in their opinion. They looked at each case separately and gave no special favors to anyone on the basis of sex or race. Despite their personal misgivings about an associate, anyone who deserved it got it.

I was 36 and June was 38. Her marriage had delayed her advancement, but only by 2 years. In that sense, she was lucky. I got the impression that she let people think that she was gay, just so there would be no pressure to marry again or give in to the unwanted advances of married partners and associates. ME, however, she chose to enlighten. Obviously, she wanted to encourage advances on my part. She knew, as did most lawyers, that sexual harassment laws were a double-edged sword. They tended to repel both the desirable and the undesirable colleagues. (Personally, I thought they were a cop-out for people that didn't want to bear the onus of admitting that they were selective.)

I was shocked out of my thoughts by having a tongue lick my cock. June was giving me a blowjob. Her mouth was savoring my flesh as she sucked my dick to complete stiffness. She even tasted my balls, causing me to nearly cum right then. Naturally, my normal self-control returned quickly and I motioned for her to drop her negligee.

I had no idea that she shaved her pussy, but she apparently did. Her cunt was as bald as it could be. She put my hand on her mound and I felt its smooth skin. She also slipped me some tongue, kissing my lips hungrily. All of the passion that had submerged beneath her cool façade erupted like a dormant volcano long presumed to be extinct.