This is the last time, I thought. It was a week since I met her, and I couldn't get her out of my mind, which was crazy in itself: She was old enough to be my mother!
It started out innocently enough, a comment about a cologne I had tried. She liked it. She liked it a lot, apparently!
Within fifteen minutes, I was slamming it home to her in a fitting room, while she moved like a cat in heat.
We both came, and she was gone. But, she left a note that if I enjoyed that, I should call this number, today, Tuesday.
I followed orders, assuming she was honest about being married, and waited until today to call. I had tried several times, and now, feeling duped, I made one last attempt. As I let out my last breath of resignation, I heard a click, hesitation, then a voice on the other end. "Yes," very matter-of-factly.
"Hi, um, we met, last week? Remember?"
"Yes, how are you?"
There was so much in my brain, dying to get out, but I played it cool. "Good, good, did you get that jacket for him?"
A pause. "No, he buys his own clothes, but it really did look good on you."
I realized I was getting hard again, just speaking to her. "Thanks, do you go to the mall every Tuesday?"
"No, that was spur-of-the-moment."
"My lucky day."
"I'm glad you enjoyed yourself. Do you think you'd be amenable to more excitement?"
My heart jumped. "I think I could be persuaded."
I thought I heard chuckles in the background, and suddenly felt betrayed. "I'm glad to here that," she replied. "I have an offer, if you are interested."
"Listen, if this is some kind of game, I don't like being made the fool."
"Oh, no, my dear, you're the prize!" I heard female voices of reassurance before The Lady quieted them down.
"My friends and I have a sort of club. To make it brief, we started as a Book club, then the books got erotic, then we related our own experiences," she went on. "We realized how old and dreary our tales were, so now we make current memories. Do you see, Dear?"
They meet every two weeks for cocktails at one of their homes. There are currently six of them, all married, middle aged, and horny. I was this week's episode, and the women all loved me! The Lady, as I call her, had taken a few pics of me on her cell phone, and the others thought I was "to die for!"
"Anyway, since you were such a good sport last week, we thought you may like to try another club member?"
Not wanting to sound too eager, I asked, "What about you?" To choruses of "Ahh, how sweet!" and "That's so nice," she said, "Thank you for saying that, but we're all in committed relationships. We're just enjoying ourselves and hoping to spread the joy. That's why this cell phone is prepaid. If someone were to trace it, there's no account name, just a Radio Shack."
Being a true American male who never turns down a chance to get laid, I agreed. The Ground Rules were, no drugs, no attempts to contact afterwards, and if either partner said "no" that was final. I would be contacted after the women chose the next partner for me.
I hung up and sat thinking, I'm twenty-six, single, not seeing anyone. Why not explore? If they were anything like The Lady, the others would be well dressed and impeccably groomed, not kids, but not yet ready for the rocker, either. And anytime I got tired, or bored, I could resign. I also wondered how many other men were in their game.
An hour later, I got the call, a different woman, very professional, very distant. "Tomorrow, 3PM, Route 22, Lola's Lounge." And, that was it.
I googled the place, it was connected to a motel, a rest stop for Truckers not far off the Thruway, so I dressed in my finest jeans and cleanest sweatshirt, and went on my journey.
There was a huge truck lot in the back, and a handful of nondescript cars in front. Still wary, I parked near the street for easy escape in case of a set-up, although I couldn't think of a thing I had worth taking. And black-mail would be futile since their reputations had to be more important than mine.
My eyes adjusted to the darkness, and immediately I spotted the barmaid, about 50, a big woman exposing massive cleavage, big head of blond hair, thick red lips and eye-makeup that was applied with a trowel.
I paused, not sure if I should turn and run, then decided, it was only a drink, and I came all this way.
"What'll it be, Hon?" she grinned at me.
"A nice cold Bud?"
"Coming up!" she smiled and winked.
She was totally different from The Lady, other than age. Boy, was I disappointed, but I sat and sipped while she watched her soaps on TV and chatted with 2 old-timers at the other end. She made sure to stop by, but didn't seem overly-eager. Not yet, anyway.
The door opened, once for the mailman, then again for a couple. They didn't seem very friendly to each other, and the barmaid had to give the woman change, which she passed to the man, who abruptly turned and left.
The woman ordered a drink, and took it to the jukebox where I got a better view. She began playing these Country hurting songs about love gone wrong, swaying to the music. I watched intently. She was more to my liking, big also, but not fat, a button-down top with straining buttons, her chest was alive, quivering like jello, and it almost shimmered. Still 50 or so, she had shoulder-length black hair, that was obviously a wig, playing her part in this game of strangers.
After a moment, she looked my way and smiled. "Anything you wanna here?" she asked in a Southern Drawl.
