Copyright 2012, 2020 Lisa Summers
Samantha just stared back at Trish, a deep foreboding, mixed with confusion over her just concluded dream, clouding her ability to respond right away.
She was lying naked in a tub of cooling water, having just awakened from an extremely erotic dream, while her fully-clothed roommate stood looking at her expectantly, clueless to Samantha's inner turmoil.
"I said, 'Dave called'... Jeez, clear those cobwebs, honey!" Trish smiled to show that she was just kidding, but she turned on her heel and left the bathroom. Samantha followed suit, wrapping herself in a bath towel and padding out to the living room, her thoughts filled with recently departed visions of a fantasy sex romp with Trish, and being dumped by Dave, her boyfriend.
Seeing the flag for new email on her phone, she checked those first. Sure enough, there was one from Dave. Reading it, her vision of his ending their relationship was sadly fulfilled. Instead of reflecting on the eeriness of her having seen this beforehand somehow, the pain was muted by her foreknowledge, in part, but even more by her curiosity about where her new fascination with Trish had come from.
"What was it?" Trish asked.
"Oh, Dave dumped me," Samantha responded off-handedly. Trish looked at her curiously.
"I'm so sorry, honey," Trish said. When Samantha didn't respond right away, Trish added, "You don't seem real broken up about it."
"Yeah, it's just...strange," Samantha responded.
"Strange?" Trish said.
"Yeah...I had a dream that he was gonna do that," Samantha said. She decided to leave out her fantasy fuck fest with Trish.
"That is strange," Trish responded. "Well, anyway, I'm still kind of sorry. But honestly, you're way too good for that slug."
Samantha smiled at her. "You're really a good friend," she said. "You have no idea how good of a friend my subconscious apparently thinks you are," Samantha thought to herself.
"I need to worry more about my job loss, than I do Dave," Samantha announced. "If you've got any ideas, I'd appreciate them..."
"Well...you could open up your own business?" Trish ventured.
"Doing what?" Samantha asked.
"What are you best at?" Trish responded.
"Fucking, according to Dave."
"Well, there you go," Trish replied, grinning.
"Um, yes, good idea, except that it's illegal and yucky," Samantha said.
"There's always tons of 'escort' ads on Greg's List," Trish said. "How illegal could it be?"
"Really?" Samantha said. "How did you know there's tons of them?"
"Never mind, but check it out," Trish suggested, turning the conversation away from her and back to Sam.
"Yeah, okay," Samantha said. "After I look for a real job."
...
A month later, after striking out on every legitimate job lead she'd found, Samantha decided to at least look into that part of Greg's List, the online guide to all sorts of 'opportunities' in town. With Trish's help, she pored through the entries.
"It seems like if you're offering some kind of legitimate service that you can get paid for, and sex just kind of happens, that you can get away with fucking for money," Trish reasoned. Samantha was in no position to dispute it, as her funds were rapidly dwindling, and the rent would soon be due...again.
"But...how do you avoid skeevy people, and just plain bad people?" Samantha asked.
"Well, if you went for married couples, that'd probably be safer. And I could help you out, be your pimp or bodyguard or something."
"You mean like in that HBO show?" Samantha asked.
"Well, I wouldn't really be your pimp or collect money, I'd just be there to call the police if you got in a bad way."
"Call the cops? But I'd be a whore. Whores don't call cops," Samantha said.
"You'd be 'Helena the Handywoman,'" Trish said. "Handywomen have every right to call the cops if they get in trouble."
"'Helena the Handywoman'"? Samantha said, dubiously. "Still, it sounds like a good idea...an idea, anyway."
After perusing a good number of notices, found in almost every section of Greg's List, Samantha and Trish came up with one they thought might work:
"Talented, cute and personable 'Jill of all trades' handywoman looking for married couples in search of help around the house. I can't guarantee that I'll do the work perfectly, but I can guarantee your ultimate satisfaction! Bla blah blah..."
At first, Samantha argued that, by wording it that way, "No one wants a handywoman who's not that great at fixing stuff!" After Trish stared at her wordlessly for about a minute, it occurred to Sam that that was exactly her desired demographic, and then entering the ad went smoothly from that point on.
It only took two days to start getting results. Unfortunately, most of the responses were from horny single men - desirable for their money and their need for "the product," as Trish called it, but undesirable due to their risk quotient.
However, one response looked interesting. "Hi Jill, my husband and I are looking for someone who meets your listed credentials. Could we get together at a public place of your choosing, so that we can all be sure that this is legitimate? If you do good work, we'll pay top rates. - Kim and Alexis Bonneville"
"That sounds promising," Trish said. "And they sound rich. But it's your ass, so to speak. What do you think?"
"I guess it would be okay," Samantha responded. "Do you think I'm doing the right thing?"
"It's not like you're going to make it your career, right?" At Samantha's nod, Trish added, "So this can just 'fill in the gaps.'"
"Is that some kind of 'pimp' thing, where all your metaphors have to do with sex?" Samantha asked.
"Just keeping my pimp hand strong, baby. I finger, I mean, figure, it'll give me more street cred." Samantha rolled her eyes.
"Okay, let's set it up," she said.
Samantha was sitting alone at a table at the small coffee shop that they'd all agreed on, when an attractive blonde of about thirty five or so approached her. "Are you Jill?" she asked shyly.
Samantha's heart rate rapidly increased. Her first potential customer!
"Yes, I am," she said, smiling. "And you would be Alexis?"
The woman nodded quickly. "Yes, how did you - oh, of course."
"Won't you sit?" Samantha gestured to one of the three available chairs - Trish opting to hide behind a potted plant while surveiling what she called, "the meet."
Alexis explained that Kim was unavoidably detained at work, but assured her that they were a gentle couple, and even gave Samantha a copy of Alexis' driver's license as a sign of good faith. They agreed on terms - all crafted around various words like 'repair', 'renew', 'polish', and the like, the amount to be paid - Samantha insisted on full payment upfront, and when she would ply her trade at their residence, which was indeed in a better part of town.
As the two women talked, Samantha tried to assess Alexis. She looked every bit the attractive, affluent, middle-aged professional that she represented herself as, her jewelry and makeup perfect, her outfit and shoes designer label, her hair well coiffed. No doubt her husband was equally chic, and hopefully, quite handsome. Samantha just hoped that he didn't smell.
Since everyone involved was anxious to get started - everyone other than Samantha that is - she would come to their house the next night and begin 'work,' the job to be completed when the customers were visibly satisfied. The next day, Samantha began to get cold feet, but Trish assured her that she would be right outside their house, parked in her car, watching intently for any sign that there was a problem. And Sam had her phone to call.
At eight o'clock that night, Samantha, or "Jill" as she was known to the "johns", presented herself at the front door of Kim and Alexis' lovely McMansion, in one of the better parts of town. Alexis opened the door, and greeted Samantha warmly, perhaps more warmly than she would greet the average craftsperson. Samantha could see that Alexis had indulged in a little 'dutch courage' to fortify herself. That oddly comforted Sam - if they were practiced torturers and murders of girls, they'd probably not need anything to calm their nerves. It was dubious logic, but Samantha was going to cling to it. Alexis' hair was down, a little short of shoulder length, instead of the tight coif of the previous day.
"Where's your husband?" Samantha asked.
"Oh, he's upstairs, he'll be right down," Alexis responded. They chatted for a while, then Samantha heard a light step coming down the stairs. A young, very muscular person approached she and Alexis.
"Jill, this is my husband, Kim." Alexis introduced 'Jill' in return to Kim.
"Um, but you're a woman," Samantha said. She'd been prepared for an old guy, a young guy, a big guy, a little guy - but not a girl guy.
"Hi, Jill," Kim said smoothly. "You, of all people - intelligent, experienced in the ways of the world, and in a certain 'trade', would realize that same sex marriage is perfectly legal in our state, no?"
"No, I mean, yes," Samantha stuttered. "It just hadn't been made clear to me beforehand, um, what your arrangements were."
"I hope it doesn't cause any problems," Kim said. "But if it does, you can just return the money..."
Thinking of how much of that money had already been spent, Samantha hastened to assure Kim and Alexis both, that she was perfectly fine with the way things were.
"Splendid," Kim said. "Now, I understand that certain 'repairs,' you perform in the nude, yes?" It had been necessary for both sides to give certain assurances that would minimize the risk of police interference.
