High Velocity Psa Pt 05

Conclusion of the Velocity-PSA-Karma series. If you hated the other stories in this series, you won't enjoy this one either.

I apologize for the unfortunate names I originally chose for chapters 3 and 4 of the High Velocity PSA-Karma series. I should have stuck with ch. 1, ch. 2... These stories have been renamed.

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April 15

My office was decorated in neo-tawdry: orange-brown shag carpeting, oak filing cabinets, a huge tongue-shaped desk with a swivel chair, a couch, bed, and stripper pole. It wasn't just my office though. Tina and I took turns. Once our company Barbatina Ltd became Managing Partner for this portion of Edgerton Investments' holdings, we decided we were going to clean up Guy's, make it into the Gentlemen's Club it was supposed to be, rather than the crass strip joint I had helped it devolve into.

The stage for the strippers had been reduced. A dance floor where men could bring their dates now occupied the space. Strippers who were with us longer than six months were encouraged to incorporate and sign service contracts with the Club. No one was allowed to hawk extra sexual services in the club, even on their own time. Skin on skin contact with genitals, whether the performer's or a guest's, was banned. Asking a dancer for sex was cause for a customer to get thrown out.

So I was annoyed when the 'code pink' signal lit up, meaning a customer was pressuring a performer for sex. I walked over to the huge one-way mirror that looked on the audience from the back of the stage. The wall used to be Guy's wall of fame, the wall which informed my late husband that I had betrayed his love and devotion in the worst possible manner. It was one of the first things to go when I took over.

Bill was standing behind the customer who thought we were operating a brothel. His name wasn't really Bill, it was Terry, but as far as the customers knew, all the bouncers were named Bill. This was in honor of a friend who used to work as one, who had suddenly disappeared. Looking at the customer, my mood went from annoyance to white-hot rage.

I'm a passionate person. In the past when I let my emotions take charge, I did horrible things, things which hurt the people I loved the most. I took a couple of minutes to let my reason get back in control, before contacting Bill on the intercom.

"I'm going to come out in a few minutes dressed as a nurse. When you see me tell the client that the nurse wants to give him a check-up and have him follow me to my office. Use contact protocol one."

We had a protocol for how much touching was allowed between guests and staff. Zero meant hands off, five meant anything legal would be tolerated. I went to the changing room and found the outfit I hadn't worn in maybe twenty-odd years. Fortunately, it had been kept fresh and clean, and still fit. I undressed, replaced my regular bra with a low-cut strapless half-bra, put on a black, long-haired wig, a mask over my eyes, four-inch stiletto heels, and the slutty nurse's costume.

I still had it. Though I was long past menopause, when I came out to the front I drew the stares of every man in the room. I walked over to the offender and crooked a finger at him.

Bill whispered in his ear. The client stared at me, a puzzled look on his face. Bill lightly slapped his shoulder, and the man fell in step behind me. Drool was literally coming from his lips.

He put his hands on my ass. I glanced over my shoulder, and Bill moved the hands up to my hips. I led the young man to my office and motioned to him to lie down on the bed. I had Bill close the door as he left, and I sat down on the edge of the mattress.

The client reached for my boobs. "I want to suck these beautiful—"

I intercepted his wrist. "You already have."

He looked confused. " I wouldn't forget kissing such magnificent breasts. Maybe if you open your blouse I'll remember them." He tried to force his hand closer.

"You were less than a year old when you sucked my breasts, Robert."

He digested this for a few seconds, then fainted. I was back in my normal office clothes before he woke up a few minutes later.

I touched his cheek, I rubbed his hair. "Robert... Robert, wake up. Come on..."

My son had been a good listener growing up, and I didn't have to repeat myself too many times before he opened his eyes. I handed him a glass of water as he sat up.

"Why are you trying to find a prostitute, Robert? You have a beautiful wife who adores you."

"Ma, what are you doing in this place? What were you doing in that outfit?"

"I haven't worn the slut nurse uniform in maybe twenty-five years. I used to work here, Robert. I was a star performer. Now I'm one of the owners. Tina Riley and I are trying to make it classier. A customer asking a dancer for paid sex doesn't help. Why, Robert, why do you want a hooker?"

His downcast look reminded me of his appearance the many times he tried to explain why he had been sent to the school principal's office. "Janet's been avoiding sex ever since she got pregnant. Now I'm barely allowed to touch her. She's moody, she's grumpy. I have needs, Mom. Who's it going to hurt? Until you spotted me here, no one was going to know."

"The most important person in the world would know: you. You say that it won't hurt anyone, but it will. It will eat at your sense of honor, at your self-respect. Janet will feel that something is off, but she won't know what. It will knock your whole marriage, your whole life together off kilter.

"Think of what your wife is going through. There's a new person growing inside her, a person you put there. Her hormones are upside down. Her body is changing shape. She's going through difficult times, like every pregnant woman does. She needs you to support her, not abandon her while you take care of your so-called needs."

"I think you're being a little melodramatic..." Robert's eyes opened wide. "Ma, did you just say you were a performer here before you met Dad? A stripper? Did he know?"

I took a deep breath to compose myself. It didn't work. My mind clouded, my eyes watered. I started to sniffle, then sob, resting my head on my son's shoulders. He tried to comfort me, but it was clear he was feeling quite uneasy as he shifted his hands around and coughed. It was time for me to pay the piper. I stood and went to my chair at the desk. I invited my son to take the seat opposite mine.

"Robert, sex can be an addiction. For me it was a drug. I was clean for more than twenty-five years from the time I last performed here. I was seeing a psychiatrist. I thought I was cured. Then one little incident, where a few girls went topless plunged me right back into depravity. I'm going to tell you what happened, Robert. I'm going to tell you what I did. You may hate me afterwards, you may refuse to ever speak to me again. I hope that you won't cut me off from my grandchildren but won't blame you if you do. If you would read about me in a story, I would be the bad guy, the character everyone hates."

I told him. I told him about Guy, I told him about Bill. I explained that it started as fundraising for work. I talked about how I masturbated in front of strangers and jacked off policemen while my finger was up their ass. I described playing with my pussy to help Guy close a deal. I told him about getting eaten by someone I didn't see. About the arrest, about the cop who was killed, about how we were saved from a malicious lawsuit, how I thanked our rescuers. I recounted the lies I had told my husband, in a vain hope to spare him some pain. I told my son about my affair with Mike Riley, and how Tina Riley saved our marriage. I told him his father tried to drive his car off a cliff when he found out that his wife had been a whore.

"Beauty is a blessing, Robert. I'm stunningly beautiful. Men drool over me, even now. But I changed my beauty into a curse, the curse of betrayal. I beg you, don't do it, don't follow my path. Don't repeat my terrible mistakes."

Robert was trembling. His skin was pale, his eyes dilated. I got up and brought him a glass of water, holding it to his lips. I took his hand; he slapped mine away.

"Thank you, mother, for sharing with me. I won't follow your path; that's a certainty." He got up and left.

April 18

Robert called; he was coming over to the house. The real estate broker had just hammered a "for sale" sign into the lawn. I hoped that wouldn't upset Robert even more.

I was surprised when Elsie got out of the passenger seat; she lived a couple of hundred miles away. She avoided looking in my eyes as the two of them walked to the front door. I brought them into the kitchen and gave them each a coffee. The kids sat at the table as I brought out the milk and sweetener. They sat staring at the table top, stirring their drinks, not speaking. I waited.

I decided to make myself a coffee as well. Their eyes followed me as I took a cup from the cabinet, a spoon from the drawer, and poured my drink. I took a bit of milk, stirred and waited.

I was almost finished my coffee when Elsie finally lifted her head to silently look in my eyes. I answered the question in her gaze.

"There is no reason, there is no justification, I don't have a sensible explanation."

"Do you expect me to forgive you, mother? Or do you want me to follow in your footsteps and work as a stripper, like you did? Am I good looking enough to flash my tits at strangers? Mike Riley said that after I pass the certification exam he can get me a job as an actuary, but maybe I should ask his wife to get me a job at your whorehouse."

"No, I don't want you to be a stripper. Yes, you're beautiful enough to be one. No, I don't expect your forgiveness. I need your father to forgive me, I need his wife to forgive me. Neither of them will ever do that."

"You killed my father. He was strong, he was healthy. I was always amazed how fast he could sprint, how he far he could throw a football despite his age. You ripped out his heart and killed him."

I shook my head. "I ripped out his heart, but I did not kill him. His stubbornness did that."

"What the hell are you talking about?"

"For years I begged him to go see a doctor about his prostate. He absolutely refused. Do you remember when you were young, when we went to the amusement park together? He spent the whole day running to the bathroom. I thought something was wrong but every time I spoke to him about it he got mad and shut me down. Finally he couldn't avoid it, but by then it was too late; the cancer had spread. If he had listened, he'd have lived long enough to throw me away, as I deserved."

Robert put his head on the table and started to weep. Elsie went to the den and came back with a bottle of Woodford Reserve bourbon. She poured us each a shot and took my hand in hers. We resumed our silent, tearful vigil.

I didn't know how long Robert and Elsie were planning to stay with me. An hour? An afternoon? Overnight? We had each finished our second shot, and it was time to pour another. But not if Robert was planning to drive in the next few hours.

I couldn't lay any claim to moral authority, but I still had a responsibility as their mother to guide them. "Your parents both screwed up. My screw up was evil; your father's was fatal. I beg you not to repeat our mistakes. You have a history of cancer in your family. Watch for it, get regular check-ups. Your father was uncomfortable with the idea of a digital rectal exam, and it cost him his life. Never mind if something is unpleasant or uncomfortable. If it's necessary, take care of it. Don't be afraid of bad results on a test, because the consequence of ignoring a test can be way worse."

"What do we learn from your mistake, Mom? That I shouldn't show my cunt to strangers? That Robert shouldn't stick his dick in strangers? We already know that."

I kept my eyes on Elsie. I didn't know if Robert had revealed the incident at the Club which led to this discussion. That would be up to him. "When I first held Guy's hand he was still my patient. It was for the totally benign purpose of fund-raising for the hospital. When I went to his club to pick up a check I had no intention of removing a stitch of clothing, of even opening a button. I kept my head down when I walked in, not wanting to look at the dancers. Each little step seemed harmless but soon I was masturbating in front of a dozen men. That in itself earned the hospital sixteen thousand dollars.

"The lesson is not about being a stripper or visiting hookers. You're smart enough to figure that out on your own. Rather, what you must do is think about the implications of what you do- where it's leading, what are the consequences. I'm smart enough not to sell my body, but that's exactly what I ended up doing, one thoughtless step at a time."

Robert reached for the bourbon. I stopped him. "Another bourbon will lead either to a DUI, or you sleeping here tonight. I'd love for you to stay; it's lonely by myself. But I know you have other commitments."

Elsie had a grim smile. "I have a train back tomorrow morning. I was going to stay at Robert's home, but if you'll have me, I'll stay here. I love you Mom. I don't want you to be alone." They both hugged me.

"Ethan said forgiveness is irrelevant. When he found out what I had done, all he wanted was to move past it. Can you get past it?"

Robert sighed. "I think so. Can you?"

"Once I get past the loneliness, maybe. I can never get past the regret."

"It's not good for a woman to be alone, even a very imperfect woman. You messed up, Mom, big time. But you're still our mother. We lost Dad to cancer. We don't want to lose you to guilt or self-pity. You have friends, you're still beautiful. You have to move forward, not spend all your time looking backward."

June 13

"She's gorgeous."

"Thanks, Barbara. She takes after you."

I laughed. Unless you believed in imprinting, the foolish idea that the emotions and impressions of a pregnant woman shape the baby in her stomach, her beauty came from Tina. And Mike; he was pretty good looking, too. I took the place of Tina's absentee mother, oohing and ahhing and encouraging the woman who was like a daughter to me. The woman who loved my husband, who saved my marriage and my sanity. I owed her more than I could ever possibly pay.

Tina gave birth in the Saint Andrew's maternity ward. The doctor said he wanted to keep her there a couple of days extra because of a drop in Tina's blood pressure during labor. I suspected it was because there were a few empty rooms in the maternity ward, and they wanted the money. It seemed that wicked practice from the old non-profit Saint Andrew's had not changed. But the renovated rooms were beautiful, insurance paid the whole shot, so Tina did not argue.

"You're one of her grandmothers," Mike said. "I'll introduce you to my mother when she comes to town, so you can do grand-mothering stuff together."

I glowed with joy. I didn't deserve such happiness. "What's my granddaughter's name?"

"Athena. She was a goddess of wisdom and of war. I want my daughter to have both those traits."

I tried to picture the little bundle in my arms dressed in combat fatigues. "Goddess of war?" Athena gave a little cry, and I placed her on her mother's breast. She immediately latched on and began to suck.

Mike touched my back. "Do you remember when Tina threatened to break my arm if I touched her? I was trying to protect you."

I frowned at the memory.

"Tina used the threat of violence to take command of the room and bring you and Ethan back together. If she hadn't intimidated all of us, it probably wouldn't have happened. Tina's a goddess of wisdom and war."

"What else did I take command of, dear, beside the room?" Tina scowled.

"You took command of my heart, my love. That was most wise. You are the wisest, most violent person I know."

I sniffled, remembering the playful banter I used to exchange with Ethan.

"And?" Tina continued, delight dancing in her eyes.

"And the sexiest."

"And?"

"And the best fuck."

I punched Mike in the arm. "Hey..." We all laughed.

June 23

Mike still lived in a building across the street from Saint Andrew's. He and Tina had moved to a three-bedroom unit, with one for the baby and the third for Mike's home office. As an actuary he could do just about everything at his computer, as long as he had an internet connection. His employer preferred it that way; they didn't have to pay for expensive office space.

I was glad it wasn't his old condo. Too many brooding memories there.

They had told me it was a celebration. Alicia was there, along with a few other people from the club. Lisa, Michelle and Alayna were there from the hospital. It was nice to see them. We all figured the gathering had something to do with Athena. We were wrong. Mike instructed us to wait for the toast as he poured us all a drink. It was Eagle Rare bourbon, rather than the usual Jack Daniels.

"Friends, I propose a toast to my beautiful wife, the mother of my daughter, and the soon to be Doctor Tina Riley, PhD."

"In six years to be," Tina said. "Let's pay some respect to honesty."

"My lovely and brilliant wife has been accepted into a PhD program in Biotechnology at the state university." We all burst into applause. "It's a joint program with the Technion in Israel, and we'll probably live there for a couple of years."

"Why Israel? You're not Jewish," Alayna said. "Why not my country, Lebanon?"

"When we first became friends, Alayna, you told me how difficult life was in Lebanon. You were so happy to be in America. I thought this is your country. The Technion is one of the world's leading science and engineering schools. It has improved everyone's lives, with advances in defense, environmental engineering, computer science, medicine... They've recently come up with a synthetic cell that produces anti-cancer drugs inside a tumor. Tina's interest is cancer-related technology, so it's the perfect fit."

"But you're not Jewish."

"You don't have to be. Israel protects and respects all religions: Muslim, Christian... the Bahai moved their headquarters there from Iran, to escape persecution. We won't have a problem. And it's just for a couple of years. We're not moving there for good."

Alayna looked around for support. She didn't find it from me, from Mike, from anyone. "You are terrible people." She stomped out, slamming the door. I remembered the evening Mike and I took her to a restaurant to comfort her. I remembered what that evening cost me.

Most of the people had left. Tina asked me to stay a few minutes extra. I carried some glasses to the sink, had a déja-vu, and almost stumbled. Mike lifted his eyebrows as he glanced at me. He understood.

Athena was in her cradle. Mike sat on the couch, and Tina came up behind me. She wrapped her arms around my waist, pressed her chest against my back, and rested her chin on my shoulders. I felt the wetness growing. I turned around, and she took her face in my hands.

"Two people that I loved suffered from prostate cancer. I'm going to Israel to do something about that."

"What are you going to do?"

"It's too early to say, but I'm going to make a difference. I'm going to make a difference for my father. I'm going to make a difference for Ethan."

We hugged.

September 10

Janet and Robert had a beautiful baby boy. Eight pounds, two ounces, no complications, easy delivery. I warned Robert about post-partum depression, advising that he had to put aside his needs for now. They named the baby Ethan. Athena and Ethan. I hoped my grandchildren would be close, even though they weren't related.

June 2, three years later

It was a quiet night at the bar. A few men were on the dance floor with their dates, a few with our skimpily dressed dancers. Mariah was up on the stage doing a good simulation of a panther in heat. The drinks were flowing, the profits trickling, the customers smiling.