For those who have not read the first part of this saga, here's a quick summation: Whether you are a man or a woman and have lived with someone for a long time, and then that person dies as a result of a terminal illness, life can be depressing and lonely. Tradition suggests that most men die before their wives, but in these days of an increasing number of breast and ovarian cancer cases, sometimes it is the other way around.
And so it was for myself and three other retired menâWarren, Jeff, and Billâwho became my friends. I was a retired college English professor, Warren had worked in advertising, Jeff had been in real estate, and Bill had done some kind of work with the federal government, secret stuff. I had been dealt "mandatory retirement at 65" by the college, and the other three men, also in their 60s, had been eased into retirement by higher-ups in their companies. And yet, all of us were still relatively sound in body and in mind.
My wife had died five years earlier of breast cancer, and their wives also had died of a variety of causes. We had not know each other earlier in our lives, but we all ended up doing the same thing: selling our lonely empty houses in the suburbs and moving to small apartments in New York City. We gradually got to know each other as the result of pick-up chess games in Central Park. And we found that we all had something in common: our wives had died, and we were all mentally and physically healthyâbut without partners.
One of the first sensible things we did was to combine our resources and finances and move into a spacious two-bedroom, four-bed luxury apartment overlooking Central Park.
"This is a nice place," Warren said. "But the only problem is: There's no sex in it. I'm still healthy enough to want and enjoy sex, but there isn't any. I have the money to afford a professional, but I don't want to have sex with a hooker. That's not very romantic."
"There may be a solution...," I said.
"Like what?"
"Like this." And that's how I got the idea of The Gentlemen's Viagra Club.
I advertised in the Village Voice and a couple of New York City campus newspapers that we were four professional men conducting a medical/psychological/physiological experiment to see if Viagra could really be a help to men in their sixtiesâbut we needed non-professional female participants to help us with the experiment and would pay them $100 cash a session.
You would not believe the number of responses we got. Shelly Baines, a pretty blonde young freshman at New York University, was one of the first to apply. She seemed very open-minded when I explained to her how the experiment would work, so we decided to start with herâand me. The deal was we would see if the beauty of her naked body was enough to create a state of arousal in her partner and thus a follow-through performance.
Luckily, she was able to assure us that she was "on the pill" and thus a condom would not be necessaryâwhich sounded good to us. She got undressed in the living room that first night, and I was able to fuck her while my friends observedâand pretended to take notes.
Then Shelly introduced us to her roommate, Crystal Miller, a beautiful and slender brunette. Crystal liked the ideaâand the moneyâas well and agreed to return that Friday to fuck Jeffânot in those words of courseâbut again right in front of the rest of us.
New York City it seemed was full of college students who were looking for part-time jobs to pay the bills. There was no medical experiment naturally, and while these were girls who wouldn't think of taking a job as a stripper at some club, they were willing to participate in a "scientific experiment." For money.
Crystal arrived promptly at seven o'clock that Friday. But to my surprise, Shelly came along as well, and also to my surprise, both of them were wearing very nice-looking dresses, not the usual garb for college girls. Crystal wore a green velour dress with a brown bead necklace, and Shelly wore a blue denim dress with gold buttons down the front and a brown silk scarf around her neck. She looked quite lovelyâas she had when I first fucked her the week before.
"Crystal asked if I would come too," Shelly explained, "Sort of like an escort. You don't have to pay me or anything."
"Fine," I said. "It's pleasure to see you again."
"And Crystal has a surprise for you," Shelly said with a smile. "Show them, Crystal."
"Okay." Crystal lifted the hem of her skirt to her waist, and wonder of wonders, there was something I had not seen in forty years: a garter belt and stockings.
"Holy shit..." Jeff muttered. He had already taken his Viagra pill, so it did not take much to arouse him. The other two looked on in amazement as well.
"She got it at Victoria's Secret," Shelly said with a laugh. "She thought you would like it."
"I think I've died and gone to heaven," Jeff said.
"Needless to say, I've never done anything like this before," Crystal said. "And I've never had sex in front of an audience." She turned to me. "What do you want me to do?"
"Well, Jeff here is going to be the subject tonight," I said, "So I think the best thing you could do to get him aroused would be to undressâslowly."
"All right." She reached behind her and unzipped her dress to just below the waist. Then she pushed it off her shoulders, let it drop to the floor, and stepped out of it. She was clad in a white gauze bra and matching white gauze panties, both of which also looked like they had just been purchased at Victoria's Secret.
Shelly in the meantime looked around. "Where should I sit?" she asked. Most of the best seats were already taken by the "medical observers."
"You can sit on my lap if you want," I suggested.
