How I Created A Monster Ch 01

Chapter 1

My wife's 38th birthday was coming, and I planned a nice celebration fortwo. She wasn't at all happy, though.

"Honey, what's wrong?"

"I'm being silly, Don, but I feel old. I've got some new wrinkles. A couple of grey hairs. I used to feel pretty and felt good about myself, I still remember how all the men used to look at me when I entered a room. I guess I'm feeling bad because those days are gone now. Yep, they're gone, long gone. And they ain't a-coming back, either. I'm just 38 and old and ugly and it's only going to get worse."

"Sam, (her name's Samatha) we're all getting old, but you're still a ten- or at least a high nine - in anyone's book, and you know that"

"Aww, you gotta say that, you're my husband. It's in your contract or something. But, thanks, anyway, Honey."

This usually happy woman was really depressed. There was no way I could convince her that aging had'nt affected her looks. Sam IS a tall, willowy, beautiful woman. I'll admit her figure is more that of a dancer than of a Playboy Bunny, true, but in most men's eyes, she's an easy 9 or 9.5.

A month or so later, we were having dinner with a good friend of both ofours, sort of a "most eligible bachelor" type - 30 something, handsome, successful: all the right stuff. You know, 'Mr. Lucky'. Really pisses me off, sometimes.

Now Sam had arranged more blind dates for this guy than you can imagine. "He's too good to let loose, Don", was her explanation.

Sam and Fred are very good friends. They say their relationship's like having a brother or sister who's also a best friend. Uh-huh. Yeah. They say it proves that a guy and woman can be friendly without sexual pressure screwing things up. Right. Sure.

But Fred let slip a bit of an indiscretion. He had been on a west coast business trip for a couple of weeks. He mentioned in passing that it was a lonely trip, and by the end of it the nights alone in the hotel room were pretty unbearable. I tried to feel sorry for him, I really did.

"I know that feeling, Fred,"I said.

"Yeah, I had to take some action, or I'd have gone crazy."

Sam picked up on that: "What kind of action are you talking about, Fred?"

After some probing, Fred revealed that "I have a way with women. It's a little expensive, but it is a way."

"What do you mean?"

Finally it came out.

"Look, there were some girls at the bar, okay? One picked me up, that's all."

"Fred, you mean you hired a hooker?"

"well, if you're going to be blunt about it, yes. I did."

"Tell me more", from Sam.

"Look, she was very pretty, almost as nice as you, Sam."

"What happened? What did she do? What did you do?"

"She provided me a couple of hours of, um, entertainment."

"Would that be 'sexual' entertainment?"

"Of course. Can we get off this subject?"

"Com'on, 'fess up. I want to know just what went on."

"Look, she came to my room. Gave me a massage. We had sex. OK?"

"What about safe sex?"

"No, I took a chance."

"Well, that was dumb. So, how much did it cost you, Fred?"

"She was pretty, you know."

"Com'on, how much?"

"$500."

"Wow."

"Sam", I said, "I think you've embarrassed Fred enough for tonight."

Fred agreed, and the subject was finally dropped.

That night, in bed, Sam was especially turned on. And by the strangest thing.

"Wow, $500! Would you pay that much?"

"Honey, I'm married to you, I don't want or need anyone else for sex."

"But if you did, would you?"

"I don't need a hooker, thanks."

"Com'on, com'on. Just 'what if'. How 'bout if the hooker was me?"

"For you, more! Millions, maybe!"

The next night Sam came to the bedroom wearing one of my shirts (always a sexy look)- "Roll over, Bub, you're getting a massage."

There was warm oil and hot hands on my back, then my buttocks, then my legs. Her hands moved up again: "Roll over!"

I did. It's no surprise that 'Little Don' was standing up. Tall and Proud! Gotta love that little guy! Always answers the call.

"Oh, my, look at that. It looks like it wants some attention." Well, I got it, from hands, mouth, and titties.

Later (not too much later, it turned into a quickie) Sam asked "Is that the kind of performance that would get me $500?"

"Sam, it doesn't work that way. You negotiate the fee and collect it in advance. Otherwise, the guy may never pay."

"Oh. Sorry, this is new to me."

"OK.

"Um. Two things, Don. You said 'You'. Does that mean me? And, how come you know so much about it?"

"'You', was just the way I said it. And, yeah, I did screw around sometimes back when I was traveling, too."

A couple of weeks later, Sam was on me, in bed. I could tell this was going to be intercourse for sex, not love making. She was kissing my neck, and talking. . .

"Is this what a 'professional' would do?"

"I'm afraid I wouldn't know, but don't let that stop you!"

Now she moved down lower, and her mouth was working on my chest, then nibbling my navel. My cock had sprung free, and was twitching in time with my pulse. twitching,hell, it could have been directing a marching band!

"I wonder if anyone would think I was worth $500, like that woman Fred was with."

"Honey, you're worth a lot more."

"You really think anyone would offer a 38 year old nag like me that much?"

I decided answering that question could only lead to trouble, no matter what I said.

She was moving lower, and I could feel her mouth take in my penis. One hand began pumping my shaft, while her tongue and lips were busy exciting me more than I could stand.

A pause: "Well? What do you think?" then she continued.

"I like it! I like it!"

"No, stupid, about someone paying."

"I'll pay, I'll pay - don't stop!"

She didn't stop for a few minutes, but then there was another pause - and just as well, I grabbed the head of my cock and squeezed it, in the classical 'do this to stop a premature ejaculation' maneuver.

"Honey, I'd really wonder if other guys would think I'm attractive enough to pay big bucks for an evening like this with me."

Okay, that was it. Now I was definitely past the point of no return. Both the physical pleasure, and the idea Sam was playing with made me lose control. God, it was good, even if we never made it to intercourse.

A few nights later, again in bed, Sam advanced her idea further.

"Um, do you think I'm marketable, honey?"

"What do you mean?"

"You know, an evening of fooling around for fun and profit. . ."

"Sam, I don't think I like where this idea is going. Let's just keep it in reserve, and maybe some day the circumstances will be right and we'll see."

"Does that mean you really don't like it, or do you just think no one will pay that kind of money for my saggy 38 year old body?"

Now, guys, we ALL know that there is *absolutely* no good answer to that question, but I tried. Oh, how I tried.