Henry and Eliza

My two hours at the haberdashery were well spent. I hadn't even bought a pair of socks since Amanda died. Everything I owned was getting threadbare. The trunk of my car was completely filled when I got back to Barbara's store. Luckily there was an empty parking spot in front of the door. I knew I would have a lot to lug out to the car, so I was grateful for that.

When I went in I saw Barbara talking to a young woman near the back of the store. She was dressed in a red business suit, so I guessed that she was a manufacturer's rep. Eliza was probably in a fitting room still trying on different outfits. I wandered around the store looking at nightgowns and such while waiting for them to finish their business. After about five minutes, the rep walked over to me. "Well, Mr. Higgins," she said, "how much longer are you going to ignore me?"

"Eliza?" I would never have recognized her. Instead of the floozy that I had brought into the store, a well-groomed businesswoman stood before me. Her shoes matched her suit. The white blouse had a ruffled front. She carried a black leather purse over her shoulder. Her makeup had been changed from pancake to a professional application. She held out her arms and turned slowly around. "You're beautiful!" I said in awe. "Didn't I tell you that you could trust Barbara?"

Barbara joined us. "Well, what do you think?" she asked me.

"Bravo," I replied. "How can we ever thank you?"

"You may not be so thankful when you see the total. Eliza, dear, I'll have the girls take your things out to Henry's car."

"It will all have to go in the back seat," I said. "The trunk is full."

"I'll give them a hand," Eliza said. "I'm pretty good at organizing stuff."

I followed Barbara to the register while Eliza and the store staff took her selections to the car.

"Henry," she said reproachfully, "I'm really surprised at you. Have you become a caveman?"

"What do you mean?"

"Did you think I wouldn't see her injuries? Has Amanda's death affected you that badly?"

"It wasn't me. It was someone else."

"Who? Her pimp?" I took a deep breath and blew it out. "I figured as much. Why did you have to stoop so low? You know I would have taken care of you. Steve would have insisted on it."

"I know, but in the morning you would go home with Steve, and I would be alone. You and Steve are wonderful friends. I love you both. It's just that if I had accepted all the invitations, I would have been a charity case. I would have been using you and the other wives as whores. That's not how I see you and that's not how I treat my friends."

"Still, I think you could have done better. It's obvious she didn't go to college; I doubt she even finished high school."

"I remember when you had some rough edges." She smiled. "She needs training, and I intend to do what I can for her. You have no idea how great I felt this morning to have someone to wake up next to. She said she'd stay until her ribs heal. The doctor figures about six weeks. After that I don't know, but I'm going to enjoy her company while I can."

"It will be pretty hard for her to run away. She doesn't even know where she is."

"I won't try to prevent her from leaving if she wants to go. It wouldn't be right for either of us. Maybe you and Steve could come over for dinner some evening."

"I'll talk to him about it. You guys can talk baseball; he likes that. Don't expect much female bonding."

Eliza came back in as I was signing the charge slip. The total was more than I had expected, but Barbara's fashion expertise didn't come cheap. "Barbara," Eliza said as she extended her hand, "thank you for all your help. I never understood accessories before, but you've shown me their importance. I hope we can be friends."

"If you ever have any questions," Barbara said, "don't be afraid to ask." Did I see a frown or a smile on her face as she shook Eliza's hand?

When we got home, Eliza insisted on modeling every outfit. After all, I should see what I had paid for. I couldn't argue with her reasoning. Everything reflected Barbara's impeccable taste. The cocktail dresses, the sportswear, even the jogging pants were the latest style.

The last item was a black string bikini, at least, I think that's what it was supposed to be. The bottom was a thong that left her ass cheeks fully exposed. The top didn't even have a string; the cups were simply glued to her breasts. Only the bandages on her ribs marred its look on her.

After completing a full turn so I could see the full effect of the garment, what little there was of it, she noticed its effect in my pants. She knelt on the chair with her knees on either side of my hips, and my bulge became bigger. There were tears in her eyes, but she was smiling. "Thank you," she said and broke down into uncontrolled sobbing. I put my arms lightly around her and held her gently. Her head was on my shoulder. Tears freely soaked my shirt. After ten minutes her crying subsided enough for her to speak. "I've never felt so good in my life. That red suit. I can't describe how...how elegant it makes me feel. When you didn't recognize me, I felt a little insulted at first; but then I realized how much it had changed me. It made me confident. I've made a decision, and you've made it possible for me to make it. I now have the courage to make decisions about my life."

"What is your decision?"

"You're not going to like it."

"Hit me with it and get it over with."

"I want to be a courtesan." I felt like I'd been kick in the balls. She would be leaving. I had hoped that she would want to improve herself somehow, but I hadn't thought she would just raise the price of her pussy. "Henry." I didn't respond. "Henry. Are you all right?"

"Yeah." My head was reeling. "Sure."

"You did say I could make a lot more money that way."

"Yeah, I did."

"Last night you showed me a whole new world in bed. I realized you were right about images. The most important image, though, is the image of myself. Sure it was sex, but it was good sex, loving sex. You cared about me. You were my lover, not a penis. For the first time in my life, I felt wanted."

"There's a lot more to it than being good in bed. For one thing, you have to work on your voice. I hate to say this, but it is pretty harsh. You have to walk, not strut. It's not easy to make that kind of transition."

"In other words, I have a lot to learn." I nodded my head. "Will you help me?"

I thought for a moment. It would certainly take more than six weeks to mold her into a high-class professional lover; however, it would keep her around longer. "Yes."

Her training began with the classic posture exercise of walking with a book on one's head. It started with bare feet, first in the house, then outside on the lawn followed by walking up and down stairs. Then she did it all over again wearing shoes beginning with flats and slowly graduating to high heeled shoes. No matter where she went, the book was perched on her head. By the following weekend, it never dropped.

Diction was her toughest assignment. Breaking her of the habit of constantly chewing gum was the easiest part. The first week almost drove me insane. Her voice had a very strident nasal quality. Eliza was an expert at putting her tongue in front of her eye teeth so she couldn't see what she was saying. I considered hiring an elocution coach for her, but I decided to try tongue twisters first, everything from the basic Peter Piper to the horrendous "The sixth sick sheik's sixth sheep's sick." [Try it sometime.] It took her three weeks to master that one.

Her bedroom work was equally difficult. For eight years she had focused on getting a man to climax as quickly as possible so she could move on to her next john. I constantly had to slow her down. In desperation, I refused to let her touch me until she learned to relax and to respond to my kisses and caresses.

I took her back to the clinic to have her ribs checked after two weeks. Her bruises were almost gone, and the fractures were mending perfectly. A month later she was allowed to take the bandages off permanently.

The landscaping crew that mowed my lawns was constantly ogling Eliza's perfect body, especially after the bandages came off her ribs. She loved being outdoors and wearing her skimpy excuse for a bathing suit. Daily exercise removed any fat she might have developed when she lived in the city.

One afternoon I was working in my office when I happened to look out the window and saw Eliza talking with one of the lawn mower operators. He had been working without a shirt, and his muscular chest sparkled with perspiration. She had made a pitcher of lemonade and had taken it out to him. Her back was to me so I could only see the strings of her bikini bottom. I was proud of her for being so considerate on a hot afternoon when she turned around and I saw her bare breasts. Even from forty feet away I could see her erect nipples. She took his hand in hers and led him toward the house.

I heard the front door close and their footsteps going upstairs. I was in shock. I had spent two months transforming her into a glamorous and desirable woman, and she was repaying me by screwing another man right under my nose. How could she do that to me? I started to stand up.

A bedroom door closed upstairs. I collapsed back into my chair. What was the matter with me? For several years, I had watched and listened as Amanda had done the same thing, and I had been happy that she enjoyed herself. The grounds keepers had a standing bet on which of them would have her each week. I threw a dollar into the pot occasionally myself. I won the money once. Yet I was feeling jealous because a streetwalking tramp was getting fucked by one of my men. What kind of a swinger was I?

I finished my work in an hour and went to the living room to read a book. They came downstairs a few minutes later. Eliza let him out and closed the front door. As she turned around to go back upstairs, she saw me sitting on the sofa. She was completely naked. When she approached me, I saw his seed seeping out of her cunt. I tossed my book on the end table. "You took your time with him," I said quietly.

"That's what you taught me," she replied.

"I know." I wasn't sure what to say next. "How did it go?"

"It was great. I had no desire to rush him. He was a real gentleman. He made sure I had my party first. Everything was just the way you trained me. I made him want me. Equally important was that I wanted him." I still didn't know how to react. That moment was the goal of the previous two months' work. "Did I do something wrong?"

"No...ah...no. You did what you were supposed to do. I guess you'll be sending out your resumé now."

She laughed. "What should I put under 'Position Desired?' Missionary? Female superior? Doggy? It was my turn to chuckle. "Henry, I love you, but you're right. It's time for me to move on."

"You forgot something. Come over here." I stood up. "Lay down." She had a quizzical expression on her face, but she stretched out on the sofa. "You didn't clean up."

I knelt beside her crotch and spread her legs apart. The grounds keeper's seed flowed out of her warm pussy. I put my mouth over the opening of her cavern and sucked at the fluids. Her sweet nectar combined with the tartness of his spunk to form a delicious feast. Even though I had long before accepted the fact that she would never be faithful to me, I still felt that his sperm did not belong in her. Was I becoming monogamous? I probed her hole with my tongue to get out every drop I could find. The more cum that I removed from her, the hotter I became. Soon her hips were bucking as she climaxed over and over. "Henry, if you keep that up, I won't be able to go."

I rose up and pulled my shirt off while she sat up and struggled with my belt buckle. I finished opening my pants and shoved them down to my knees. Quickly I climbed onto the sofa between her legs. Her hand guided me to her entrance. I plunged completely into her well-lubricated chasm on my first stroke. Her tight pussy wrapped itself around me. She locked her ankles behind my ass and held me in place. I made my thrusts long and slow pulling almost completely out before gradually reentering her. The air was cool on my pussy juice coated meat, but my cock warmed up immediately when I got all the way back in. After several long slow strokes, I gave her a few short hard thrusts. She screamed in her orgasm, and I resumed the slow approach. A single rapid insertion got her off again. My own actions were stimulating me as well. My pace increased as my passion rose. Faster and faster we slammed our pelvises against each other. Faster, still faster, I pumped my butt. My senses seemed to be failing. My only feeling was in my groin and my raging dick. I couldn't breathe. I buried myself in her to the hilt and froze in place. The world stopped as my own seed replaced that which I had removed earlier. Wad after wad flew through my prick as consciousness slipped away from me.