CHAPTER 1
Between dates, yet again, Ray Haig wondered which was worst -- being divorced by your partner who found she had the hots for someone else, or coping with the aftermath? Being told the deteriorating marriage was over had come as a shock but the shock soon faded and gradually his good mood returned. Once the dissolution was in effect, he'd assumed within a relatively short time life would be back to near normal and he'd have a new babe under his wing.
Not so.
Half the city seemed to know he was a divorcee and some guys as well as most gals he and Julie had cultivated as 'friends' since coming to the city did their best to avoid him. Some were rather rude about it. What crap was that? He hadn't acquired a dreaded disease or was wearing unwashed underpants. The hurtful part was some of those had been his friends and not really Julie's.
Ray was IT (information technology) manager at Kingston Law, largest law firm in the city, so had the divorce handled on his side at mates' rates as Julie did working as legal executive at another law firm. She left the city with Peter Dawson or Black Pete as Ray called him, a professional studio photographer who's reputedly fucked half of his female clients according to what one of Julie's friends told someone who told Ray's attorney. Ray had given Julie one-fifty bucks for her birthday and she decided to get herself photographed and hang 'the artwork' in the bedroom. She hadn't met Black Pete until then. They fell for each other.
Julie took the best car, the trailer boat and the cabin, selling them. That left Ray with the house and its big mortgage but that suited him fine; it was best house in the street and probably the best for several streets as well.
Finding women to date rather than to fuck was Ray's problem. A member at Bayfield County Club, he played golf off scratch, two shots lower that the club professional and three shots lower than the assistant pro which was a bit embarrassing for them because females on low handicaps came to Ray for free tips to sort out minor problems with their game. His coaching manner was cheerful and two pats on the ass and most of his grateful 'students' appeared prepared give him more than a big thank you. Trouble was most were married; the unmarried ones tended to have poor bodies and were single because they were off-hand about sex.
At the office some of the married women in his department invited him around for a meal and there would be another guest, a single woman. But apart from a couple of lucky strikes the outcomes were all similar. They all wanted to know why he'd divorced and when he said because his wife ran off with another guy they tended to lose interest in him. Presumably they thought in that case Ray was a difficult guy to live with. It reached a stage where Ray was thinking the zip in his pants was redundant when he suddenly thought of something about those two women who'd pulled their skirt zips for him. He'd not called them after the rather indifferent sex because they were divorcees. Did that mean divorcees were desperate for it or we willing to give it to a likely guy on the first date to try to make something happen?
Almost stunned with enlightenment, Ray arranged to have coffee that afternoon with his mentor, Pamela Kingston, current managing partner, married to a much older man. Ray had tailed her a couple of times -- at her request -- when she was between lovers.
"Here's your coffee Ray. Dating anyone yet?"
"Thanks Pam. As a matter of fact women seem to be avoiding me."
"I could go through our client list for you if you wish, looking for likely lays. You're good looking with a fine physique and are only twenty-six."
"Twenty-nine actually. I know you think of me as your toy boy. But that's a great offer. I was wondering though if you could give me a list of divorced women clients, say twenty-two to thirty."
"I'll look at doing that but it won't be a large list. The big bracket is thirty-five to fifty. Is that all you want?"
"Yeah."
"Well finish your coffee and go. I'm busy. But feel free to give me a call if you want me to sleep with you."
Pam aged fifty-four had been a surprise bundle sexually. She spent heaps on her body and went three times a week to the gym. Ray had suspected she might be good in bed because she had that laidback sexy air about her. Her skin was in better nick that some women of half her age. It turned out she really moved her ass in bed, being rather like a coiled spring. Oh boy, did she work him hard.
The next day Pam's PA handed Ray a list.
"Mrs Kingston requests you handle this information in absolute confidence."
"Thanks Penny," Ray said, taking in Penny's perfume. "Would you care to have a meal out with me one evening?"
"Fuck off Ray. You know I'm married."
Before he had time to feel rejected she smiled. "Pity about that Ray. I bet I would find you are a real goer."
"You're a lovely lady," he grinned. She clicked-clicked away on her heels to file her nails or whatever PA's do.
Ray knew that ethically Pam was taking a risk being involved like this so he scanned the list into an encrypted file in his computer and shredded the paper. That evening he stayed behind and brought up files of the women on that file and copied the profile of each woman to his 'dating' file. Photos of the some of the women had been scanned into their personal file. That was very handy because Ray's minimum requirements for a date were good looks and a good body. He was aware that eliminated some potentially great women but that was a standard and they, if they dated him, would find they had a date with good looks and a good body. Friendliness, intellect and the other things that gave rise to compatibility would reveal themselves later.
Using the photos Ray produced an initial list of twelve women to approach. Methodology was his next concern. It he called them and said how about a date, he could blow his chances. No way. He decided to borrow a little of the technique of stalkers.
MEGAN DANE. Megan had remained working after her divorce, naturally, and the file gave her work address. Ray waited outside the accountant's office where she worked and spotted her leaving on the second evening of his vigil. It was dead easy. She went to a bar with another woman who left after one drink.
"Hi, I'm Rayner Haig and work at Kingston Law in computers. I seem to recall your face as a client?"
"Yes, Malcolm Little is my attorney. I'm Megan Dane. You have a great memory. I haven't been in your offices for some eighteen months. May I buy you a drink?"
"That would be lovely," Ray said, not doing what most males would do and say he'd order his drink and one for her. If Megan bought him a drink he had her attention for at least the time he took to finish that drink, providing he didn't prove objectionable.
The next evening they went into the movie and during a tear-jerking bit Ray reached for Megan's hand and she held it, wiping at her tears with her other hand. Half a minute later she squeezed the hand she was holding. Before long she placed their hands on her thigh and unclasped her hand, but holding hers loosely on top of his. Ray took the plunge and dipped his hand under her skirt. As soon as his fingers touched between Megan's upper thighs she widened them.
Dead easy.
She took him home and fucked nervously.
"God I needed that."
"I'll fuck you as often as you wish."
"Really?"
"Ray, the truth is I'm divorced and am looking for a new husband. Does that worry you?"
"No of course not. As it happens I received my dissolution of marriage notice two months ago."
"Oh this is marvelous. Do you have much money?"
It was like a short one act play. Ray said no, not much. They had coffee and as she was leaving Megan said coldly she didn't want to see him again.
BRIGIT O'REILLY. Contact with Brigit was easy. She was a junior grade teacher and he was standing opposite the school after the kids had gone off, waiting for her, with bristling Brigit walked over to him and said, "May I ask the nature of you business in standing opposite our school?"
"Yes certainly. My name is Rayner Haig. I drove past yesterday and saw your blonde hair and the caring way you were saying goodbye to the kids as they were boarding the bus. My heart took a leap. I came back today to see if I could grab a chance to talk to you and lo, you walked across the road and we're talking."
"Do you have ID?"
Ray handed over his driver's license.
"Well at least you are who you say you are. We are obliged to report loiterers."
Ray said she older needed to call Kingston Law and someone would vouch for him.
"Kingston Law handled my divorce."
"Oh, was that Bill James, Marion Wright, Jessie Joyce-Smith..."
Brigit said it was Jessie.
The next evening Brigit took Ray to her bed and within fifteen minutes Ray was gasping, his balls heavy with the need to release.
