Louise Sullivan just stared at the letter that shook in her hand.
It was from a credit card provider threatening drastic action if she didn't pay at least some of what she owed them. Problem was, what she owed this particular company amounted to approximately $6,000 and it was one of three companies to which she owed a similar amount.
Altogether, she estimated that she owed right at $20,000, some of it for shopping sprees that she had embarked on, but much of it was for on-line gambling debts.
She had been a sports fan since she was young, the result of her being the only girl in a house full of brothers. And with time on her hands after her two children got older, she had tested her knowledge of sports on a variety of offshore betting web sites.
It had happened so fast, she hardly knew what she'd done. For a long time, she had managed to keep her habit under control, winning a few hundred dollars here and there, and losing a few hundred here and there.
But earlier in the season, she had hit a winning streak and had gotten ahead a couple of thousand dollars, then she got greedy.
She'd doubled down on a four-game parley of NFL games, it had gone horribly wrong and she'd lost several thousand dollars. Then she had bet larger amounts trying to recoup her losses, and in the space of a few weeks, a manageable debt had mushroomed into the crisis that confronted her.
Louise knew she couldn't depend on her husband to bail her out of this one. Willard Sullivan was pretty tight with the considerable salary he pulled down as a vice-president for a large multi-national corporation, and he was constantly badgering her about her spending habits.
It had gotten to the point where she had gone back to work, as a secretary for a modest-sized company, just to get her husband off her back about money.
Louise knew that Willard would tell her that she had gotten herself into this mess, she would have to get herself out of it, especially since she'd gone in the hole from gambling.
But, she recalled, she had done it out of boredom. Her husband was gone a lot on business trips all over the world, and the kids were now off at college. She and Willard had been married for 23 years, and they'd had a son who was now 20 and a daughter who was 18.
At 43, Louise was still quite attractive, with thick, honey blonde hair that fell about her shoulders in luscious waves. She had hazel eyes that could fairly be described as smoky, which combined with her fulsome lips, gave her a most enticing look.
Her body was ripe, as well. She was right at 5-foot-4, with a firm set of 36Bs that still sat high and proud on her chest, a taut butt atop a gorgeous pair of legs.
No question, Louise Sullivan could still turn heads, especially at her office, where she was considered something of a prick tease, even though she didn't realize it. But it seemed like Willard didn't have as much time for her any more.
With time and a little extra money on her hands, Louise had turned to on-line betting as a way of passing the time, along with the occasional forays into Internet porn, to satisfy her increasingly unmet sexual needs.
Louise was relating her misfortunes to a girlfriend at lunch the next day when fate played its hand. She was talking about how much she owed on her credit cards, then the conversation turned to their respective sex lives. Neither of them was getting as much from their husbands as they would have liked, and they commiserated with each other over their situations.
Sitting at the table next to them, all ears, was Bob Daniels, one of the junior managers. Bob was in his late 30s, he was single and he had been angling to get a crack at Louise ever since she had first started to work there, without success.
Now, as he listened, he saw his chance, and as the afternoon wore on, a truly fiendish plan took shape in his mind. Later, over a few beers at a local pub, Bob outlined his plan to one of his good friends, Brandon Smith, who was a fairly skilled amateur photographer.
Brandon was looking to make photography a full-time profession, and he was building up his portfolio with that in mind.
"I'm telling you, man, it's at least worth a try," Bob said. "You'll understand once you meet her. This woman has a look about her like she could suck an egg through a garden hose, and she's got a primo body, especially for someone who's a little over 40. And I don't think hubby's giving it the attention it deserves."
"I don't know," Brandon said. "I mean, you don't really think she'll fall for it, do you?"
"Listen, buddy, have I ever steered you wrong on pussy?" Bob said, warming to his subject. "Louise Sullivan isn't exactly the brightest bulb in the box, and I think if we lay enough money out there to entice her, she'll go for it. She's desperate, and I don't think it'll take a lot of cajoling to get her to take off her clothes for the camera. You're the photographer; you know how to work a subject. You get her to strip for you a couple of times, get her confidence, let her think everything's above board, then you start pushing it. Get her to play with herself a little, get her worked up some. Then, when you've got her hot to go, bring out the heavy artillery. Get some stud to come in, and tell her you want to take some sex shots with him. Hell, promise her there won't be any penetration, just simulated sex. And when you've got her frothing at the cunt, you get your stud to just fuck her, you snap away, then when he's finished – voila! – instant whore."
"What makes you think she'll do it the way you say she will?" Brandon asked.
"You know me," Bob said with a devilish smile. "I just have this gut instinct that underneath that married façade is a slut just waiting to burst out. I get the feeling that she's suppressed a lot of eroticism over the years while playing the good wife and mother, and now that the kids are gone and her husband's away a lot, she's ready to do what she's always wanted to do, and that's fuck – a lot."
"We'll see," Brandon said, still a little uncertain. "But I guess there's no harm in trying. Like you said, what have we got to lose? OK, I'll take out an ad in the paper, you get her to call me for an appointment, and we'll take it from there."
"Trust me, brother, there are an awful lot of guys at work that would gladly shell out a couple of hundred bucks for an hour with Louise Sullivan," Bob said. "I think we can make some money with her. I'll even be generous and let her have her share of the proceeds. She gets to pay her bills, you get some good stuff for your portfolio and we both get to fuck some outstanding poontang."
Bob didn't know it yet, but his instincts were right on the mark. Louise had kept a tight lid on her sexual urges for the entire 24 years she'd known Willard, because he was a pretty straight, serious guy.
But there had been a time when Louise had been a real hellraiser. Louise was the youngest child and only daughter, after her folks had had three sons. When she was 12, her parents had divorced quite suddenly, and she later found out her father had been caught with one of the women in the neighborhood.
Her mother had moved with Louise and her youngest brother to another city, and she never missed an opportunity to rail against the, "sins of the flesh," that she claimed had been her father's downfall.
Louise was not particularly pretty as a child, and she was a little overweight. So to fit in at a new school, she believed that she needed to be "cool," and to be cool at her school in the late 1970s meant drinking, smoking pot and having sex.
For a little over two years, Louise had been a party animal of the highest order, getting high and fucking just about anything that moved, and she seemed to take it as a badge of honor when people called her a slut.
That phase of her life lasted until she was 15 and a freshman in high school. One night, she was at a party, and she and a boy were in one of the bedrooms when the cops busted it up. All the kids were taken to the station, and Louise's mother was called to come pick her up.
From that time until she died, Louise's mother was always convinced that Louise was, "nothing but a whore inside."
But that didn't stop Louise's mom from putting her in a parochial school to try and straighten her out. There one of the nuns had guided her into athletics. Louise had always played basketball with her brothers on their driveway court, and she realized she still had some skills and that she enjoyed the game. She'd made the varsity and had played quite a lot, although she wasn't quite good enough to start.
Playing basketball helped Louise lose all of the baby fat she'd been carrying around, and she also learned how to maximize her looks. As she reached adulthood, her face seemed to morph into the understated beauty she now possessed.
All through her remaining years of high school, Louise still enjoyed sex, but not to the extreme that she had when she was younger. But that latent nymphomania never quite went away, even after she graduated from high school.
As a senior, she had gotten a part-time job at J.C. Penney, and after graduation, she took a full-time job there, since she had no interest at all in college. She'd been working full-time for about a year when she'd met Willard, who was an accountant for a company that did the store's books.
They seemed to hit it off, so they'd started dating, and after a year decided to marry. Jimmy, their son, was now 20, and their daughter Jenny, was 18 and had just gone off to school that fall.
Over 23 years, there had been some ups and downs, but lately there had been more downs than ups, especially in the last few years as Willard's career began to take off.
When they were together, their sex life still had some spark to it, but they were spending more and more nights apart, and Louise suspected that Willard wasn't staying celibate on his many business trips. But she had no way to prove that, so she had taken refuge in her work, her games and her erotica.
And now she was stuck in a ho-hum job, she was deeply in debt because of her betting on sports and she was frustrated because she wasn't getting nearly as much sex as she felt like she needed. In short, Louise Sullivan was a ticking time bomb that was about to explode.
It was about a week later that Brandon's ad appeared in the Sunday newspaper, and the next morning, Bob brought a copy to work and showed it to Louise.
"I heard you were having some money trouble," he said.
"I ... Yeah, I've had a few setbacks," Louise said.
"This might be the answer to your prayers," Bob said. "I think you'd make a great model."
Louise scanned the ad, then settled on what Brandon said he was willing to pay. The ad was a solicitation for "glamour shots of mature women," and said that Brandon was willing to pay his models up to $1,000 for a session.
"What kind of glamour shots do you think he's talking about," Louise said. "I mean for that kind of money..."
