"You are such a pervert, Henry. You are ogling every female between eighteen and eight hundred! It's disgusting!"
"Wife, I'm a normal red-blooded, middle-aged man, and this beach in Miami is just covered in college girls, more than half of them topless! I'm not dead. My pecker still works. Of course, I'm going to look!"
"Your tongue is practically dragging in the sand."
"As if I didn't catch you eyeing Harrison with his shirt off!"
"That's different!"
"Of course, it is!" the husband sighed in frustration at the blatant double standard.
"I'm not chopped liver," continued Jenny. She subtly extended her prone body. For a woman of forty-four -- she certainly looked good in a bikini.
Henry took a long appreciative look at his bride of twenty-three years.
"No dear you are a porter house steak!"
"If you have steak at home, why would you want to eat at McDonald's?"
Henry gazed at a nubile vacationing South Korean girl lounging in only two strips of purple fabric.
"Maybe I like spicy Asian food as well."
"Oh, you are impossible! You know I stack up well against those girls!"
"Do you, now?" replied the husband.
"Can they cook and clean with my expertise? Most of them are still learning their way around a cock."
"Point taken and conceded!" Henry rose from his chair, bent, and kissed his wife deeply.
There was a quiet moment which Henry proceeded to ruin by continuing with,
"Even if a guy has a Ferrari in his garage, he still likes to stroll through the car dealership showroom from time to time!"
'Fuck you, Henry!"
"Did we come at a bad time?"
Jenny looked up to see her twenty-one-year-old son and his ever so handsome and fit college friend, Harrison standing with frothy, icy adult libations in their hands.
"No. sweetie, just a lover's quarrel."
She sat up and accepted the proffered drink from Harrison, their hands met. Jenny felt the electric charge of attraction. She wondered, if the subtle change in the lad's expression indicated that Harrison felt it as well. He was so handsome and so polite. If Jenny was only a decade or so younger ... Not that she would act on it, of course. It would just be nice to know that she still had it. The opinion of such a fit and handsome, not to mention filthy rich, young man, mattered to Jenny at this point in her life. She noted Harrison's subtle appraisal of her body as Harrison took a step backward. That felt good!
"Are you enjoying your vacation, Mrs. K?"
"I'm having a splendid time, Harrison. I certainly hope you have expressed to your parents how grateful we are for letting us all stay at your place."
"No problem, Mrs. K. What's the point of owning beachfront property if you can't share it with friends? Besides, with mom and dad in Europe on business, there is plenty of room."
He smiled at the mother of his best friend. Jenny was positive she spied admiration in his gaze. She smiled in return.
"Hey Dad," put in their son, Chuck, "Harrison has tickets to a Marlins game tonight. Luxury boxes! Against the Yankees!"
"Count me in son!"
"Terrific! Are you coming too, mom?"
"Three men, alcohol, and baseball? I'll go window shopping instead. There is almost nothing I can afford in all the designer shops, but looking is fun."
"What did I just say?" interjected her husband.
Without missing a beat, Jenny replied,
"Honey, you can fuck right off!" husband and wife shared a laugh.
**
Jenny delighted in the exclusive shops of Miami Beach. So much luxury! Chuck was so lucky to have found a friend like Harrison. Friends with money were irreplaceable. His home was so lovely, with every amenity. She and Henry could never have afforded a vacation like this, Harrison was a godsend. Since they weren't paying for housing or even gasoline to drive from place to place, Jenny realized that there would be enough money in the budget for her to buy one small luxury item. She paced through the shopping district with a new bounce in her step.
She froze at the display window of the Miami branch of the Slave Shack, Inc. A staggeringly handsome and incredibly buff young male slave being offered for sale stood under flattering lighting, clad in just a rhinestone studded collar.
"Talk about your luxury items!" said Jenny out loud. She could easily imagine owning this hot young stud. He'd provide her massages, fetch her drinks, rub her feet, and most of all, mount her with the anaconda between his thighs! Some girls have all the luck!
Jenny read the services provided by the famous house of sin. Free assessments! The words caught her eye. She'd show Henry! When they came home from their stupid ballgame, she could slide a dollar value under his stupid ugly nose.
"See how much I am worth, peckerhead? You'd better start treating me like the valuable property I am, or I'll sell myself to someone who will!" she would tell him. And then they would laugh and laugh, and Henry would take her in his arms...
She took another look at the naked slave and strode into the store.
The model-pretty receptionist directed her through a side door where a handsome man sat behind a computer.
"Good afternoon, madame," he said in a posh British accent.
"Am I in the right place?"
"Assessment, inquiry, madame?"
"Yes, but."
"I sense your discomfort, Ms.?"
"Mrs. Kaufman, Jennifer, Jenny."
"I sense your discomfort, Mrs. Kaufman, I'm just the intake clerk."
"Oh."
"I'll need your driver's license or two forms of identification."
Jenny reached for her wallet.
The man behind the counter introduced himself as Colin and engaged Jenny in small talk. His winning manner and charming personality quickly put her at complete ease. As for the clerk, he was far more than he appeared. The ace assessor of the staff, he winnowed the wheat from the chaff. Mrs. Kaufman's credit score was utter shit. Her husband's income was laughable. Her attire came from chain stores. Colin was certain the lovely Mrs. Kaufman had a spectacular body under her pedestrian clothes. MILFs and Cougars were always in demand at the Slave Shack. Experience was highly desirable. There was also less training and breaking in time required and they tended to be lower maintenance than the hot, young but woefully green young women who made up the bulk of the legal slave trade.
If Mrs. Kaufman signed the wrong paperwork, well that would be her fault, now, wouldn't it? Her hanging on by his thumbs financially husband was in no position to hire the sort of high-priced Ivy-league superstar lawyers who could successfully sue the Slave Shack, Inc. for malpractice, now was he? If the naked Mrs. Kaufman proved a disappointment, the digital paperwork could simply be deleted.
"I have all your relevant information, Mrs. Kaufman. If you would be so good as to initial and sign these forms with the digital pen." He watched carefully and made sure she checked every proper box and initialed where instructed. The contract was now iron-clad.
"Very good! If you would walk through those oaken doors. Our assessment squad will attend to you."
Through the doors, Jenny strode, her head held high. As soon as she was across the threshold, a perky young woman placed a strawberry daiquiri in her hand,
"Relax Mrs. Kaufman, relax. What is going to happen is part physical exam, part intelligence test, and part pulchritude rating. We want you to have a good time. If you will follow me over to the lockers."
Jenny stripped down, removing everything as directed, including her jewelry.
"Wow, Mrs. Kaufman! You look spectacular!" gushed the pretty hostess.
And she wasn't just being complimentary. The naked woman standing there had long shapely legs, a fantastic butt, and a trim and toned figure. One had to look especially close to see the confirming marks that she had birthed and nursed a child. Her prominent breasts were large with light brown areolas and chance pink nipples. Her arms were long. Her neck was sinuous. Her dark brown hair fell to the middle of her back and her face could have adorned a China doll.
"Are you a dancer or ballerina Mrs. Kaufman? I hope I look as good as you when I am your age."
"Thank you, darling. I took ballet until my teens, but most of this is good old-fashioned hard work. The body is a temple, you know. What happens now?"
"Off to stage one."
Hidden cameras transmitted the fact that Mrs. Jennifer Kaufman was a first-class, mouth-watering, MILF, sure to assess at the very top of the range. The signal was subtly sent down the line. She wouldn't be Mrs. Jennifer Kaufman for much longer.
The doctor was handsome and personable. He put her through a surprisingly pleasant physical exam. Even being up in the stirrups for a moment or two was not too onerous.
They handed her a second daiquiri.
The second part reminded Jenny of a game show. She stood in front of a computer screen where the image of a celebrity she had always had a crush on, read off multiple choice questions on a wide range of topics. There was also a math quiz, that Jenny felt she had aced.
Another daiquiri and she was on a dais being examined minutely by men and women in lab coats each bearing a tablet computer. She moved as they instructed her to move, smiled, waved, and told a joke. It really was just like a beauty pageant, sans attire of course.
At last, she was helped off the dais.
"How did I do?" she asked. The effects of the alcohol were really starting to descend.
"You did spectacularly!" stated a hunky middle-aged man enthusiastically.
"One last thing," he said, "Would you allow me to slip this collar around your neck?"
"Certainly," slurred Jenny.
The chromium and composite material band encircled her neck.
"Thank you," said the man.
Jenny felt a sudden sting in her buttocks and realized that she had been given an injection. A puzzled look crossed Jenny's face before she collapsed into the arms of the middle-aged man.
"Place this one in the catalog immediately!" he barked as he shifted Jenny in his arms so that he could pick her up. He carted her to an adjoining room.
