"To Watch Over Me" (closed)

Alice Turner
23 years old
5'8", 36C-24-35, 120 pounds
Bleached blonde; hazel eyes


(OOC: Imagine Alice in the image above wearing oversized, dark sunglasses.)

Sitting at an outside table on the mezzanine level of her favorite downtown cafe, Alice Turner was lost in her thoughts as her teen-years friend Mick Bowers called to her from the sidewalk below the slightly elevated sitting area. When her mind finally registered his third or fourth call, she flashed a broad smile to him, showing her obvious excitement at seeing him.

"Take the stairs!" she called down, gesturing to the back steps somewhat hidden behind a hedge to her right. "There! Through the gate."

He found the steps and ascended them, and when he weaved through the tables crowded with lunch time diners and die hard espresso drinkers, she met him with a big hug and a kiss on the cheek before gesturing him to a chair.

"My God! How long's it been?" she inquired with joy. "Carly Davenport's summer party … that August after graduation, right? Before I went off to UCLA and you went to … where the hell did you go?"

Alice was a sponge when it came to the social media accounts of those she knew, so she already knew a great deal about what Mick had been up to during the nearly five years since graduation. But it was in her nature -- and also a feature of her chosen occupation -- to encourage people to talk about themselves … to see what about themselves they wanted to share, as well as what about themselves they chose not to divulge.

As Mick was talking, Alice let her head tilt a bit to the left, causing her long, bleached blonde hair to hide that portion of the right side of her face not already hidden by the large, very dark sunglasses she wore. She made comment on his tales and asked follow up questions, as would be expected when two friends get together after such a long time.

Things were going well for several minutes, during which the waitress came by to take their lunch and drink order. Alice had taken notice of Mick's curious glances at her sunglasses, at the curious expression on his face that told her he wondered why she hadn't shed them yet.

"Listen, Mick, before we get much farther into our reminiscing," Alice began hesitantly, now unable to look him directly in the eyes for more than just a quick moment, "I wanted to warn you about something. Well, warn is probably not the right word. Inform you … or … prepare you."

She hesitated a moment, then with reluctance reached up and removed her sunglasses and set them on the table before her. Simultaneously, she tilted her head back to the right, causing her hair to fall away … revealing the swollen, bruised cheek and blackness that arced around the outside of her right eye.

"It's not as bad as it looks," she said before chuckling nervously. "Actually … it is. No cut, so … no stitches. But, well, I hid about half the ugliness with makeup but couldn't do much about the rest of it."

He asked the questions she would expect a concerned friend to pose, then filled him in on the background of her current situation. "Mick … I, um … UCLA, it didn't work out for me. I mean, I'm still in school, getting my Masters and contemplating a PhD, so … that's not what I mean. I mean … I found out I couldn't pay my way. My grants ran out, my loans were becoming enormous … dad died and mom got sick. The funeral expenses, doctors bills … loss of dad's income … they weren't able to help after my second year. I couldn't find a job that both paid well enough and gave me time to continue my education. Minimum wage as a barista wasn't going to cut it, obviously. I needed a way to cover my expenses … major expenses as the level of education increased, of course."

The waitress arrived with their food and drink, interrupting Alice's explanation. She used the moment to contemplate how to tell her old friend that for the past three years she'd been a high end escort working for Sally McCarl, one of Los Angeles's most well connected Madams; and that -- just recently -- she'd left the employ of said Madam to strike out on her own, something that had turned out to be a serious mistake, as the massive bruise on her face demonstrated.

"I'm a call girl, Mick," Alice said bluntly just above a whisper, deciding that if she couldn't be forthright and truthful with him, this wasn't going to work. "Escort is the description more commonly used, but … call girl still the same."

She hesitated as a couple passed by, which gave Mick a moment to absorb what Alice was saying. She continued in a soft voice, "I had a manager who took care of everything for me … booking, revenue collection, security … particularly security."

She lifted her fingers to her bruised cheek as if it were necessary to connect the damage to what she was saying about the Madam. She winced at the sharp pain, chastising herself silently for touching the sensitive tissue. She continued, "Listen … remember sophomore year, out at Sands Point Park, when Greg Parker and those two jerks from the wrestling team thought my bikini would look better off me and in a tree...?"

Alice knew Mick would recall that early summer afternoon. It's not every day you single handedly keep three high school bullies from raping a girl you don't know, thus making a friend for life. Greg had had his swimming trunks down around his knees and his swollen cock at the entrance to still-virginal Alice's pussy while the other two held the screaming teen down. Then out of nowhere, Mick was there. To this day, Alice still didn't recall much of what happened, only that Mick had saved her virtue that day and made a friend for life.

"And then there was senior year homecoming," she continued, "when we were all coming out of Papa's Pizza and that guy tried to hold me up with a knife and you took care of it."

Alice reached a hand across the table to grasp her friend's hand with a squeeze. "I need you again, Mick. I need you to protect me … to watch over me when I'm working. I can pay you, of course. Minimum two hundred dollars a night … more often than not more than that. Couple'a hours a night, sometimes more … couple of nights a week, sometimes more. Sometimes we'll travel … Vegas, San Francisco … Chicago during basketball season. I'll pay all your expenses of course. When I get a bonus, you get a share, of course."

She realized that she was throwing a lot at him in a very short amount of time and -- releasing his hand and sitting back -- went silent to give him a moment to process it all. She added in case he was contemplating it, "It's not illegal. Your part, I mean. All you'll be doing is making your presence known to the client so that..."

Alice tossed her hair back a bit to show the bruise again as a reminder, finishing, "So that this doesn't happen again. Sometimes I need a chauffeur. Sometimes you'll need to look more like a bodyguard … stick close to me as I mill about parties and such."

She reached out to the flute filled with white wine and sipped, setting it back down as she asked, "So … wanna be my knight in shining armor again?"

Mick Bowers
27 years old
5'10", 180 pounds
Brown hair, green eyes

Fuck. Alice Turner. After...how long was it?

Mick waved back, then descended the stairs to where she was sitting. Alice was looking good. Still the same tall, slender blonde he remembered lusting after at school. He only wished he looked as good, given what he'd been through.

Alice stood to greet him, all blonde hair and big sunglasses. She kissed and hugged him, burning against his cheek, taking him straight back to small town Ohio.

"Girl, you look good," he said. "Five years? A little more? I was four years ahead of you when...."

But Alice, still the chatterbox just talked over him. What she'd been doing, where and with whom. He rubbed his face and chin self consciously, feeling the stubble and the pores, roughened by the harsh Middle Eastern sun. Would she think he looked older than only those five years?

The waitress took their orders, Alice still talking behind her oversized sunglasses, and holding his hand across the table. Mick longed to see her eyes properly again.

And then she hesitated. She held him more tightly.

"I want to prepare you...," she said. "Warn you...."

Alice took off her sunglasses, revealing a swollen cheek and a black eye.

"Jesus Christ!" He wanted to hold her, protect her, just like before. "Who did this?"

"I'm a call girl, Mick," she said. Injured in the line of duty. If only she knew how much they had in common.

And then she told him why. The bills, the trouble at home, her dad dying. Three years fucking for money. His beautiful Alice.

"But don't you have someone to look after you?"

Alice told him about leaving her madam, striking out on her own, only to be attacked. Mick remembered the times at school when he protected her. Even the time he was home on leave and stopped the guy with the knife. She knew what he was thinking and talked him through those times, her hand holding his again, her body heat radiating into him. Fuck, she was perfect.

"I need you again, Mick," she said. Her gaze melted him. Anything, he thought. Anything for you, Alice.

She tossed her hair back and made him a proposition. Cool as that. Alice needed a bodyguard. She'd pay his expenses. Travel. Two hundred dollars a night, minimum. How much was she charging for her services? More than he could pay for a girl like Alice, he was sure of that.

Mick agreed. On the spot. She hadn't asked if he was free. And he hadn't told her. The security work he was doing, the casual bar work, chauffeuring, whatever came his way. Well it wasn't working for anyone he liked, and was pretty much the same as what Alice was offering. Only it was with Alice, in her company, nobly protecting her from the vicissitudes of life as a high class call girl.

Being with Alice somehow seemed enough for him. He had no one else. Not out here in California. Vague thoughts of modelling had not been met with a positive response. His body was a little too ravaged, they said. The agency had referred him to a place in Van Nuys. Life modelling they did. Naked. Mick had stood in a line with fifteen other guys, nude, while some faggot with a clipboard had inspected him all over and told him to find a buddy for a 'pair shot'. The crew had urged him and his buddy to pose, then embrace before the camera. 'Kiss each other if you want,' they'd said. 'Or maybe you like sucking cock.'

He'd stormed out and dressed in the car park. None of the other guys had followed. Maybe this is how ex-soldiers earned their stripes in civilian life.

He was thrilled that Alice felt she could ask him. And overjoyed at the look on her face when he said yes. 'Knight in shining armour'. It sounded almost like a real job.

Alice was tickled pink to hear Mick's answer, as her wide eyes and sparkling eyes revealed. She waved to the waitress, intending to have their wine topped off, when her cell phone began doing the vibration boogie across the glass table top. She checked the text, adopting a disappointed expression.

"Damn, I have to go," she told her friend. She caught his expression and chuckled, telling Mick, "It's not work, just a friend wanting to talk over a situation she's in. So you're not on the clock yet."

Alice stood and moved up close to Mick again for a hug and a kiss on the cheek. With true joy, she told him, "You have no idea how happy this makes me."

She reached into her little purse and pulled out both a personal contact card and a prepaid VISA card. "This has the cell number that we will be using for work. The number you have now is my personal phone, for personal business, duh. And this … well, I was hoping you were going to say yes … was pretty sure ... so I got this ahead of time. There's three grand on it."

Alice pressed both cards into one of Mick's hands and continued, "Consider it an advance on your wages. If there's anything you need to take care of right now, to free up your mind and make life easier … any bills you want out of the way or things in collection … Jesus! if there's anyone who knows anything about collection, it's me. Anyway, the point is, I need you, your mind, and your body to be one hundred percent on the job when we start, so … if there's anything weighing you down, use this."

The waitress was passing by and Alice caught her. "Vicki, put our lunch and drinks on my account, and get my friend … this is Mick … Mick, Vicki … Vicki, Mick."

Alice made the introductions, then gave them a moment to trade hellos. She caught the way Vicki let her eyes conspicuously drop to take in Mick's athletic, fit figure before looking back up to give him a flirtatious smile and offer her hand.

"I'll take care of it, Alice," Vicki said, her eyes still on Mick, "so long as your friend Mick promises to stop by during the dinner hour one night. I'll make sure he gets a good table … in my area."

"He will, I promise," Alice said. She studied the pair for a moment before Vicki excused herself to deal with another patron. As the beautiful brunette departed, letting her ass sweep a bit more noticeably side to side, Alice thought with a happy smile, Oh, yeah, they're gonna fuck. She turned her attention back to Mick, telling him, "Call the number I wrote on the back of the card, too. It's a tailor who does excellent work. You'll want a comfortable suit, nothing too fancy. Two piece, stylish. Julio will know what I like."

Her lips widened and she laughed short and sharp. "Watch Julio's hands while he's measuring you, 'cause … Jesus, Mick, you're just his type."

Alice blushed a bit at speaking about her tailor's sexual preferences to Mick. There had been rumors back in the day that Mick liked men as much as he liked women. She'd never been one for unconfirmed gossip, nor had she been one to ask such questions of her friends; if Mick had wanted her to know whether he liked a woman's wet pussy or a man's wet lips, he would have told.

Her phone vibrated again, and after reading the text from her impatient friend, Alice hurried her goodbyes, once again kissing, hugging, and thanking Mick. She told him she would call him the next day for dinner and more conversation about the job, then hurried off toward the back stairs and down the steps, calling back her thanks and farewells yet again.

A moment later, Vicki returned to the table, set a paper napkin down before Mick, and set a filled wine glass atop it. She gave him a flirtatious smile, looked to the napkin, and said, "Oops, I think that's upside down."

As she walked away, she wondered whether she'd been too subtle about her desire for him to turn the napkin over and find her cell phone number and the hand written note, I get off at ten, and eleven, and midnight, too, if you're as good as I hope you are.

Mike sat and watched Alice leave, idly turning her card and the prepaid Visa in his hand. He was still looking at the spot where she'd disappeared from view when Vicki returned and filled his wine glass. He returned her smile. She said something about the napkin, but he was only half listening, thinking over in his head what he'd agreed to do for Alice.

He needed the work. Any work. Life outside the army was harder than he'd ever imagined. There'd been nothing in Dayton for him. The city was just one great scrap yard as the last factories were torn down and pulverised into grit. And if an old acquaintance hadn't told him she'd bumped into Alice while holidaying in LA he might have driven anywhere.

But California it was. He might see Alice again, or more likely find something to do in the sun. Anything was better than Dayton Ohio.

The friend had told him which was Alice's favourite cafe. After the first night in a motel, Mike had parked his car nearby. Hanging out round the cafe by day and sleeping in the car, three days had gone by. He knew it was time for another motel stay to clean up, but then how much longer wasting what little money he had searching for someone in LA?

But today had been the day to find Alice. And lucky beyond his imaginings.

Vicki came by again.

"Who the fuck keeps leaving these napkins upside down?" she said, smiling pointedly this time, and making a show of turning it over.

Mike glanced down to find a cell phone number and a hand written note, 'I get off at ten, and eleven, and midnight, too, if you're as good as I hope you are'.

He looked up to find Vicki watching him from the cash desk. She held up ten fingers.

................................

Vicki was just what Mike needed. Late night drinks, then sharing a joint on the walk back to her place. He hadn't needed to work hard. She was one of those girls who saw what she liked and took it.

And for all his reborn infatuation with Alice, Mike didn't need any excuse to fuck the slender busty brunette. In fact when she led him onto the balcony to show off the city lights, then knelt down, unzipped his trousers and sucked his cock, not fucking her was immediately a non-option.

As Vicki deployed her oral skills it was all he could do not to cum instantly. He regretted it, but fucking Vicki made him think of Alice, even as he looked down at the brunette, maintaining eye contact as she drew his cock all the way in until her nose was against his lower torso. He wondered how Alice fucked now that she was a professional. He guessed she couldn't just lie back and let a client do all the work.

And as if she knew his mind was wandering, Vicki dug her nails into his buttocks, and redoubled her rhythm. How the fuck did she accommodate all his meat in there without gagging?

"Weed," she said when he asked as she came up for air. "Suppresses the gag reflex."

Did Alice use marijuana to suppress her gag reflex? Would that be part of his job? Buying her weed?

"Jesus, Mike. I'm laying it all out on the table for you and fuck, you seem distracted."

He turned to find Vicki naked on the living room rug. She'd dimmed the lights, but not drawn the curtain.

"Don't worry about the blind," she said.

"But the apartments opposite..."

"Fuck, Mike. This is LA. The girl over there - she pointed over his shoulder - is a nudist. Never draws the shades. That guy is an airline pilot. You've never seen a succession of fake tits and blonde extensions like I've seen fucked against the walls of his place. And the couple below, they have a significant other, some guy who looks about 18 who comes over at least once a week to service them both. Together. And I like the breeze on me. Now get that big dick over here and fuck me!"

Like the note said, Vicki got off at eleven and twelve. Mike was worried he was out practice, but Vicki made sure he fucked her in every hole. He tried to remember his first anal. Prom night? Whenever it was, Vicki supplanted that memory. And she vocalised. Mike doubted he would be the only one in this zipcode with a lurid takeaway from the night at Vicki's.

............................

"You must think I'm a slut," she said.

He'd been awake for a while. They were both naked, lying at odd angles across her kingsize bed.

"No," he said, thinking about Alice and whether she'd endured last night what Vicki had invited him to do. And he wondered if Vicki knew Alice was a call girl.

"Jesus, is that the time?" she said, leaning unselfconsciously across his bare cock to fetch her discarded clothing.

"I'm on the early shift," she said, "or I'd let you do that thing again with your tongue up my ass. Stick it out for me so I can judge if it really was your tongue."

He did as he was told and she curled round and kissed him.

"Only if you swallow my load again," he said.

"Your load?" Vicki laughed. "What? Every time? A girl's gotta do some preparing if a guy thinks she's gonna swallow his load three times in one night."

Three times in one night. Mike couldn't remember the last time he'd been so aroused.

"Make yourself at home," she said, wriggling her thong panties up her long legs and slapping them into her ass crack. "And come round to the cafe for coffee when you're ready."

Alice's personal cell phone dance across the glass table before her. She rose, snatched it, and -- since she was up -- headed for the kitchen to refill her mug with coffee. The Caller ID indicated it was Vicki, which made Alice smile. She swiped to answer, tapped on the speaker phone, and answered as she lifted the pot, "So, how'd it go with Mick."

"Mick the Dick?" Vicki asked with humor before laughing. "My God, Alice, that guy can fuck."

"So, the rumors from back in the day...?"

"That he wasn't interested in girls?" Vicki filled in. "Fake news, girl. He likes girls. He most definitely likes girls. He liked me all over the house last night."

Alice laughed loudly, and at the other end of the call Vicki did, too. Alice continued her questioning, "And you made sure that he liked the likes?"

"Made sure," Vicki confirmed with confidence.

"And he was impressed with you?" Alice inquired with a rather serious tone as opposed to a girl chat, post-coital gossiping tone between friends.

"I think so," Vicki responded. "He was distracted at first, but I got him past that by swallowing his cock."

Alice laughed and playfully chastised the waitress for being a dirty girl. "Yeah, I think he might have been thinking about me and my business proposition."

After a moment of pause, Vicki asked, "So, if you don't mind, can you tell me, because you didn't give me an answer the first time I asked … why was Mick in my bed last night and not in yours? I mean, he's your old friend from high school, and you said you thought he'd been hot for you back then, and you wanted to know if he preferred girls or guys-- Oh! by the way. Just because Mick balled me like he did evening past doesn't mean he doesn't also do guys the same way, you realize that, right?"

"Yeah, of course, I know," Alice responded before sipping at her hot coffee. When Vicki prodded again, she answered with what should have been a duh response to the question, "I can't be Mick's boss and lover at the same time."

"I can see that, I guess," Vicki responded. Another moment of silence passed before the waitress asked tentatively, "Can I ask another question … because, again, you didn't answer me the first time I asked."

"Shoot."

"Why did you pay me five hundred bucks to spend the night with your friend?" Another short pause, then, "I mean, you could have rented him a prostitute for a hundred … two or three hundred if you wanted someone that wasn't a walking disease factory."

Alice smiled at her end of the call but didn't give Vicki a verbal reaction. She thought to herself, Oh girl, if only you knew how wrong your were. A professional, skilled, cleaned, and discrete sex worker these days was a bit more expensive than what most people imagined. Hollywood was where most people got their information about street walkers and high end escorts alike, and the film industry only got it right every so often and not regularly enough for the common man -- or woman -- to know.

Vicki interrupted Alice's reverie on the subject with, "I mean, that's kind of a stiff amount of money to put out on a friend's night in the sack, particularly when you haven't even seen him in years."

"I needed to know for certain that he was going to get what I wanted him to get," Alice explained, "And I didn't want him getting it from a professional."

"Does paying me for last night make me a professional?" Vicki asked, giggling a bit at her question. When Alice told her No, it doesn't, Vicki laughed again and said, "Thank God. I was afraid I'd lost my amateur status and couldn't win a Gold Medal at the Sex Olympics this summer."

"Gold...? Not silver or bronze?" Alice asked with humor. "You were that good?"

"Well, there was only one judge in the room," Vicki responded with humor, "But I think creative and technical stats were high enough."

The two girls laughed together for a moment before making lunch plans for the next week. Vicki inquired, "Why so far out? You're not in town?"

"Vegas," Alice responded, not explaining why. She was with a regular who was no threat to her, so inviting Mick to come along hadn't been necessary. Besides, she'd had other plans for him: Vicki's interview. "So, let me ask a question, Vic. You only had to impress one judge last night. But … what if there were others I wanted you to impress?"

There was a short pause before Vicki asked with some hesitation, "As an amateur … or professional?"

"The latter."

Yet another pause, followed by, "I … I dunno. I did Mick because you said he was a good friend. I … I dunno about doing strangers … going pro. I know you're a … well, you know … but I'm not sure--"

"That's okay, Vicki, forget I asked," Alice interjected quickly, not wanting the young woman to feel pressured to make a decision now. "Hey, I'll see you next week for lunch, okay?"

"Do you mind if I see Mick again?" Vicki asked quickly.

Alice chuckled, telling her with excitement, "No, not at all. Go like him some more. I'm sure you missed a few horizontal locations in your apartment."

They laughed again, confirmed their lunch plans for Vicki's day off next week, and ended the call. Alice tossed the phone onto the hotel room couch and sipped at her coffee as she contemplated the conversation. Her leaving Sally McCarl's employ hadn't been just about gaining her own freedom in the industry and keeping more of her own money. Hell, Sally's 25% cut may have seemed steep, but the madam's connections with businessmen, politicians, celebrities, and others meant that Alice's dates had fetched a pre-cut price that was twice what she could charge on her own.

Alice was losing money being an independent. But, with beautiful women who could fuck -- like Vicki -- Alice hoped to become the new and improved Sally McCarl within three years, five tops. There were dangers, of course, cutting into Sally's territory. Enter one Mick Bowers. Alice had heard just enough about his recent years and remember all about how he'd saved her back in the day, not once but twice! She hoped that having Mick to watch over her would make it so much easier to forge ahead into the wonderful, exciting, and lucrative field of sex worker management.

But, that was still a ways away. Alice heard movement and a male voice calling to her in the next room and reminded herself that she was still at this moment just another well paid whore. She set her coffee mug aside, went to her purse for some strong mint gum, chewed and spit it aside, and headed back to the bedroom where her client was just waking up. Shedding the thong panty, Alice let the man take a moment to ogle her naked body before she mounted the bed and began pleasuring his rapidly stiffening cock and his twitching sack with her deft fingers and magical tongue. She toyed with him until he told her Do it! then took his full length into her mouth and throat and drove him quickly to a deeply moaning explosion.

They fucked again before the John drifted back to sleep, sated. Alice showered, dressed, and collected her money: $5,000 for the full day and night, plus another $1,000 for coming to Vegas and providing the man arm candy while he impressed some foreign investors. She called the Valet and had her leased Ferrari waiting at the hotel door for her departure. Five hours and two avoided speeding tickets later -- one of which had cost her a promise of dinner later that week -- and she was back in her downtown LA apartment calling Mick the Dick for a gettogether.



"You had a date with Vicki, I hear," she asked her old friend casually as she came out to the balcony and handed him his drink. "Like her...? Nice girl?"

Her only hint at knowing just how much and how often he'd liked her that night last week was a sly little smile she that shone down to him as she hovered over him for a moment. They chatted several minutes about Vicki, the view, Mick's arrival in California, and both his need for a good car and her connections with an exotic cars leasing agent in Hollywood.

"We should probably talk about the job offer," Alice finally began the real reason for having him here. Sally -- that's my former employer, Sally McCarl -- has put out the word that I not only left her but betrayed her at the same time by stealing away some of my regulars … her clients. That's, um … well, that's entirely true, I have to admit. It wasn't entirely my doing, though. One wanted to see me on the side without Sally's involvement … and her cut. Another wanted to run me as his own girl, introducing me to people who weren't in Sally's rolodex … and other such things that, in Sally's mind, were no-no's. And, honestly, they were … no-no's, I mean."

She took a moment to refill her wine glass and ask Mick about his own drink before continuing, "Point is … I have maintained contact with some of my old regulars, and they want to see me. But, sometimes, that can be dangerous. This--"

Alice pointed to the cheek and eye that had been bruised when Mick first saw them but by now was healed and explained, "This wasn't caused by a John who likes to beat women. It was caused by Robert and Dino … Sally's boys. They do for Sally's girls what I am asking you to do for me … protect me. Sometimes, though, they do other things for Sally..."

Robert and Dino had known where and when Alice was going to be that night because the John she'd been visiting -- one of the men in Sally's rolodex -- had informed the madam of his planned meeting with the renegade whore. Sally had ordered the two thugs to let the client have his night of fun with Alice, then met her in the parking garage afterward and both beat her up and robbed her. They weren't supposed to have hit her in the face; in case Alice came back to Sally's employ, the madam didn't want that beautiful face permanently damaged in any way. But, Alice had resisted, and shit sometimes happens. Luckily, there hadn't been any permanent damage.

Again, Alice pointed Mick's attention to her healed cheek and gave him a weak smile. "I won't ask you to do that for me … get rough with men to make a point. I only ask that you keep this from happening to me again."

They discussed the potentially violent side of Mick's proposed employment for a bit and came to an agreement on what he would and wouldn't do. Alice was becoming happier with her choice of Mick with every passing minute. The bell rang, and she retrieved a take out order of Thai she'd called in before he arrived. They ate on the balcony and talked about old times and new possibilities, finishing off more than their share of alcohol considering it was only three in the afternoon.

Mick hung about Vicki's apartment after she left. He sort of pretended it was his own, or somewhere he could stay on a regular basis. Sleeping in the car was shit. And a cheap motel twice a week was not much better.

He showered, rinsed three days dirty underwear and two shirts, and popped them in the dryer. Strolling out to the balcony, the girl in the apartment opposite gave him a wave. She was completely naked. He looked down and realised he was too. He waved back. California was different to Dayton Ohio in every way.

Mick wasn't proud of himself, but he had a good look round. It was an instinct he'd developed in Iraq. You couldn't be too careful. It made no sense back home, but he did it anyway. Opened drawers and wardrobes, looked under furniture, ran his hands along the tops of cupboards. He didn't know what he was looking for, but he couldn't help himself.

There was always change to be found at a cheap motel, not to mention the condom wrappers and the cigarette butts. No IEDs yet but given the state of the some of the neighbourhoods in which he stayed, it was only a matter of time.

Vicki's apartment was neater than he expected, given how carelessly she'd discarded her clothes, and how enthusiastically she'd fucked on every flat surface. The drawers were neat and the wardrobes overstocked like all the other women's wardrobes he'd ever looked in. And shoes. Everywhere.

And five hundred dollars cash under her panties. Was it safe there? None of his business, he thought, closing the drawer.
.................................

Vicki served him coffee and donuts. She was busy and didn't have time to chat. The idea popped into his head that Alice had set them up. The thought didn't trouble him. Mike was more concerned that it hadn't occurred to him before.

But so what? Alice was an old friend. Many times he'd wanted more than friendship. As recently as yesterday. But if he was going to work for Alice, could he fuck her as well? It was too complex a thought to work through, especially with Vicki wiggling her ass at him every time she walked by. Alice the friend was in the past, Alice the boss was in the future, Vicki who gave anal on a first date was in the here and now. He stood and waved. Vicki blew a kiss as he left.

...........................

"I've just been showing myself around the neighbourhood," he told Alice when they met later for drinks.

Was Vicki a nice girl? That was a tough one. Alice had a way of saying nice, and smiling as she said it, which left him struggling to find any appropriate words. Nice as in pretty or fuckable? Both, obviously, he thought, but just said yes.

They talked cars, and clothing, and business. Yes, he would call Julio about a suit tomorrow. Alice expanded on the problem with her ex-madam. Dangerous didn't really cover it, in Mick's mind. The situation was imminently threatening. Why did Alice need to take risks like this? If she wanted to work as a call girl then given her attributes, she could work anywhere. Why step on Sally McCarl's toes?

It was entrepreneurial, of course. Alice was good at what she did, she must be enjoying it, and she wanted to see how far she could go. Mick understood, even if it wasn't his approach. Better to work for someone was his motto. Take the money, let them take the responsibility.

But Alice pointed to her cheek again. Where she'd been bruised in the attack. Mick's instinct to protect Alice just flooded back. And not just protect. He couldn't help feeling sexually attracted to Alice. He always had been. And why not? He was fit, if battle worn and prematurely grey. Lots of women liked grey. Alice just wasn't meant to be his. His ward, but not his fuck. Anyway, he would be fucking Vicki again soon.

"I only ask that you keep this from happening to me again," she was saying as he emerged from daydreaming about Vicki. He nodded. The lunch Alice had ordered arrived, and the two ate and drank on the balcony.

"I'll be back in three, maybe four days," Vicki was telling Mick as she rushed about her apartment. She was quickly packing a bag with things from her bedroom closet and bathroom both as she explained with a disapproving tone, "I told papa a million times to fix the loose railing on the back deck if he was gonna keep peeking over the fence at the lesbians next door in their hot bub, but oh-h-h no, did he listen? Broken leg, cracked rib. The Doc says he's lucky he didn't do more damage."

She hurried to Mick, gave him a quick but erotic kiss, and rushed for the front door as she laughed, "Good news, papa says, is when the girls next door came to his aid, they were in nothing more than thongs. Silver lining and all that!"

Vicki spun at the door to look back at her house guest one last time. She gave him an erotic, guttural growl, lifted her skirt to show a pair of lacy panties, and ordered, "Miss me while I'm gone. Gotta go."

And with that, she was out the door. While she'd been packing, Vicki had caught Mick up on the particulars of staying at her place: she'd arranged a delivery from the grocery store that would be here any time so he wouldn't starve or have to eat take out morning, noon, and night; there was a key to the door hidden in the butt crack of the lawn gnome to the left of the lamp pole; the security code for the alarm system was 5-4-2-5-6-3 -- "Just remember L-I-C-K-M-E" she'd clarified -- and Alice had called to tell him there'd be a car for him outside at 11am the next day.

An hour before noon right on schedule, not one but two cars pulled up to the front of the little suburban rental, a 2017 Cadillac CT6-V sedan in jet black followed by a slightly older Cadillac Escalade in a deep metallic gray. The two drivers got out, each greeting Mick politely before the sedan's driver approached.

"Miss Turner sends her apologies, Mister Bowers," he said as he was offering out the sedan's keys and a small pouch that Mick would soon learn were the owner's and care manuals for the Cadi, a booklet of pre-paid service coupons for Cadillac authorized service centers, and more items that were standard for the lessees of their fine automobiles. "As I have been told by the leasing manager, Miss Turner hinted at having an exotic automobile made available, but, really, there's nothing more elegant and dependable than this, am I right?"

They chatted for just a moment about some of the more important particulars of the sedan before the dealership employee returned to the SUV and the pair of them drove away. Mick couldn't know, but Alice was texted an update on the delivery a moment later, which prompted her to send a text to the work cell phone in the center cup holder of the car.

Sweet ride, huh?
8pm, Trenton Arms.
Wear the suit.
Julio says it will be ready
for final fitting by 6.​

Every thing was now in place for Mick to begin his new career with Alice. When he arrived at her condominium building, the doorman called up. A couple of minutes later, Alice exited the elevator and crossed through the lobby, her five inch heels clicking across the slate. She thanked the doorman as she passed out onto the sidewalk beneath the covered pickup area and stopped to do a slow turn for Mick's review. The fabric clung so tightly to her shapely, firm ass that she might as well have been naked; the sudden chill of the night air upon her scantily clad form caused her nipples to swell almost painfully, pushing them forward to be easily conspicuous as well.

"Like?" she asked simply as she stepped over to the back, passenger side door. She stood there with an expectant look, waiting for him to open the door. She took his hand, as he helped her inside she said with a feigned, snobbish accent, "Thank you ever so much, Micky. You are such a doll."

Heading away toward Beverly Hills, Alice told Mick what he needed to know about tonight's client, which wasn't much, actually. He was one of Alice's regulars during her employ with Sally McCarl, but -- as with the last she'd serviced -- Alice didn't expect any uninvited excitement.

"I'll be here about two hours," she said, getting into specifics. "I'll need you to stick around. In the past, Roger has been very kind about providing my driver with coffee … desserts … whatever you'd like. His night time housekeeper was a pastry chef at a Paris restaurant before the French version of Immigration learned she was undocumented and kicked her out. She makes the most incredible puddings … you have to ask for one. Better yet, I'll ask. You can't not try one."

Alice directed Mick to turn into a driveway almost hidden in the dark by tall arborvitae, and after a winding, quarter mile drive up cobblestones, they arrived at a gate with a guard sitting in a shack. The watchman -- watch woman it turned out when the shack's door opened -- came out to the driver's side to look in at Mick, then Alice, then smile. With the push of a button inside the shack, the gate opened and the guard -- after flashing Mick a smile -- waved them onward.

"You may be tempted to take a walk down to the gate from the house, but I wouldn't," Alice told Mick with a teasing tone, "I've been led to believe that that woman likes her handcuffs and tactical baton just a bit too much for the average, naked man."

They pulled up in front of a multi-million dollar mansion that, at one time or another, had been on the cover of a dozen lifestyle magazines and could now be found all over the internet in the digital formats of the same. A man in a comfortable suit came to Alice's door, opening it and greeting her while ignoring Mick entirely.

"Mister Cooper is eagerly awaiting your arrival, Miss Alice," the man said, his snobbish accent not feigned in the least. "He's in the library. Shall I show you--"

"It's fine, Jacob," Alice cut in, giving him a soft but friendly squeeze of the arm as she turned to look at Mick. "I was wondering … my driver--"

"Amira's pudding, Miss?" the man servant asked knowingly. "Of course. Vanilla, mocha, or--"

"All of them?" Alice asked with a slightly pleading tone and a playful smile. When the man confirmed the request and told Alice they'd make the driver comfortable in the kitchen, she practically giggled with joy, telling Mick before she departed, "Enjoy your evening, Michael."

She looked for his reaction to the inaccurate name she used. Alice liked to play with names when she was working: she'd used more than fifty of them for herself during her years in the business; and never once had she introduced the two thugs who'd beat her up by their true given names, more in their cases because it annoyed them and Alice had always enjoyed that.

She headed up into the open doorway of the home while behind her, Jacob gestured Mick to follow him and he, too, headed back inside.

Alice left him in the kitchen. Mick looked around. After all the excitement of the last few days, here he was on his own. Alice was upstairs fucking some guy for cash, Vicki was tending to her father's broken leg. The quiet of the kitchen beat into his brain. In Iraq it was never quiet. Always the sound of guys around you and vehicles coming and going and gunfire and people yelling and children calling mister mister. You found the quiet inside you wherever you could. Here there was nothing. No clock ticking. No cars on the road. No dogs barking. No plumbing rattling in the walls.

Mick banged the side of a cupboard just to prove he was awake.

Of course, he wasn't on his own. Jacob came running in. "Sir...?"

What was Jacob? Butler? Manservant? Bodyguard?

"Nothing," Mick said. "Sorry."

And that was pretty much it for the evening. Two hours sitting in the fucking kitchen watching cable TV while Alice fucked the mysterious Mr Cooper somewhere nearby.

They drove home in silence, Mick at the wheel, Alice strangely quiet in the back. So this is how it's going to be, he thought, now I'm an employee. He'd dreamed so many times of life with Alice, sweeping her off her feet, moving in together, 2.4 children, growing old together. But driving Miss Turner hadn't figured anywhere.

And for a moment he resented her. I'm my own man, he thought. But am I? Nothing to show for his military service but grey hair and a sun ravaged face. Sleeping in his car with everything he owned in the trunk. My own man. Ha! Resignation replaced resentment. She was doing him a favour. He could be in Van Nuys now making gay porn. Or in Dayton Ohio watching the sun go down over a derelict factory.

And Alice had set him up with Vicki. Fuck, he hoped her father got well soon.

He showed Alice to the front door of her condo. She thanked him and kissed him goodnight in a very absentminded way, then reminded him of his appointment with Julio tomorrow.

And when he let himself into Vicki's place, he could smell her so strongly that he found himself opening the doors to check she wasn't hiding. He fell asleep in his clothes.

Alice descended the mansion's grand staircase alone, her client already sound asleep upstairs, sated from her professional treatment of his cock and ego both. Jacob had been awaiting the sound of Alice's heels on the stone steps and -- after telling Michael it was time to bring the car around -- met her in the entryway.

"I trust a good evening was had by all, Miss Alice?" he asked with a tone that was polite and friendly and not lurid in the least. When Alice only smiled and nodded her answer, the gentleman's gentleman handed her a business sized envelope, telling her, "Your man is waiting outside. Enjoy the rest of your evening, Miss Alice, and please, come visit us again soon."

"Thank you, Jacob," she told the man, rising on the toes of her heels to kiss him on the cheek. "I'm sure I'll see you both soon enough."

Though they didn't talk about it, Alice had interviewed for this client by first servicing Jacob; it was a quirk of Mister Coopers that he didn't have sex with anyone until they'd first proved their worth to his lifelong and most trusted employee Jacob. But women weren't the butler's preference, so it had been a one time thing with a specific aim in mind.

As she walked out to the sedan and greeted Mick, Alice found herself contemplating the old rumors she'd heard about her friend, driver, and protector's preferences. She'd contemplated maybe hooking up Mick and Jacob, to give them both something to do while their bosses were upstairs going at it. But, of course, Mick had turned out to be into women after all … or, so Alice mistakenly believed. She'd learn the truth eventually, just not today.

The ride home was quiet. After an appointment, Alice was always a bit reserved; she was very good at her job, and she loved the compensation that came with it, but she hadn't grown up thinking I want to be a whore when I'm a big girl, so the minutes and hours that followed work was often a winding down time for her.

Alice had noticed something in Mick both before and after her evening with Mister Cooper that she'd noticed days earlier but tried to ignore: the longing he'd had for her back in the day hadn't seemed to wane much. She saw it in the way he looked at her sometimes; other times, it was in his tone as they talked about her work. Alice had known, of course, that this would be hard for Mick, just as it was hard for her; after all, she, too, had on occasion imagined being naked, sweaty, and screaming out in ecstasy while Mick's cock was driving hard and fast deep into her pussy.

But that couldn't happen now. Not while Mick worked for Alice.

"Here," she told him before she got out of the car back at her condo. With the majority of the cash Jacob had relayed from his boss already removed and stuffed down into her little purse, Alice offered the envelope over Mick's shoulder. "After you get your suit tomorrow, why don't you come by and pick me up. We'll go get some drinks. I want to talk to you about a one-night hop up to Seattle."

When he opened the envelope, he would find four crisp, new, one hundred dollar bills in it. It had been a good night for Alice; it was only right that it was a good night for Mick as well.

Inside her place, Alice took a long, hot shower before moving to the jacuzzi for a bit of a soak to relax herself enough to sleep uninterrupted until well after dawn. As she sat there in the roiling water, feeling the pounding of the jets on her shoulders, back, and legs -- and most wonderfully on the bottoms of her feet, which always hurt after wearing heels like tonight's -- she contemplated what Mick must have been thinking about her, her client, and what she was doing to him while Mick himself was parked downstairs with bowls of Amira's pudding.

As her mind relaxed, her hands slipped slowly in between her thighs and found her sensitive folds and nub. The one drawback to being on the job as she had been tonight was that she very often revved up her body yet wasn't able to reach the finish line, as did her partner. Alice put her fingers to her clit and massaged it in a very familiar way until the ecstasy that had been so close yet not achieved with Mister Cooper finally reached her.

She relaxed into the water again for a few minutes of enjoying the after glow before finally drying and heading for her bed. As she donned her sleeping clothes and slipped into the cool bedding, Alice couldn't help but smile and even giggle to herself...

As she'd pleasured herself, it had been Mick's face and body she'd imagined there in the water with her. What would he think about that? she mused as she drifted off into a heavenly slumber.

Julio's place was west of downtown. Mick drove the Cadillac and parked nearby. He'd slept well last night. Maybe the dull evening in Mr Cooper's kitchen had settled him. Or maybe it was just meeting Alice again, getting a job, fucking Vicki....

Vicki phoned him early. Her father was a little improved but she wouldn't be home before the weekend. For a girl he'd known only a few days and fucked once - well fucked one night even if he'd cum three times - he was missing her. Too soon, Mick thought? But she was hot, inventive sexually, available, and let him use her apartment. What more could a man want?

He realised he was smiling broadly to himself as he walked along the street.

What more could a man want? Well, Alice for one. For all and only. Beautiful, desirable, unattainable Alice. Here he was, paid by her to facilitate her fucking clients for money, but he could never have her. Never. Unless she would fuck him for money. Nah. That wouldn't work. Would ruin it. He wanted to fuck Alice slowly under a warm sun on a blanket after a picnic in an Ohio cornfield, where they would lay close afterwards and plan their lives together and he'd ask her to marry him and.....

He found Julio's. It was a well appointed tailor's shop, all tuxedos and wedding gear and thousand dollar suits in the window. Thousand dollar suits! For the first time in his life Mick was driving a car worth more than a thousand dollars. His last suit he'd bought at the Thrift store in Huber Heights.

"Welcome, Mick, welcome to my store."

Julio was a short, middle aged Latino guy, dressed like a tailor from a bad movie, purple shirt under brown velour suit, matching brown shoes, oiled hair, tape measure round his neck.

"I have made up two suits at Miss Turner's instruction," he said. "Both black like she wanted. With waist coats, but not for wearing every time. Just for formal occasions."

Mick wondered if Julio knew what Alice did for a living. Julio placed an arm against Mick's back and propelled him into the fitting room.

"We will try them on today and then make any final adjustments. You like?"

Julio was pointing at the two new suits laid out in the bench. A Latino kid busied himself at the back. He was a short guy, dark haired, nattily dressed in a blue business shirt and grey pinstriped vest and trousers, squatting down to wrestle some rolls of fabric out from under a table.

"This is Ricky," Julio said. "My apprentice. He is a good boy from a good family. Ricky will make a great tailor one day. Ricky, come and meet Mr Bowers."

The young guy, who must have been 19 or so, stood and stepped forward, taking Mick's hand shyly. He was a good looking kid, nicely proportioned, clear skin, thick lips. Julio returned to the front of the shop. After all, Alice was his client. Mick was merely a clothes hose.

And something stirred in Mick as Ricky went about testing the suits for length and hang and fit. It was a feeling Mick thought he'd left behind a long time ago. He'd wondered when Alice looked at him in a certain way or talked about old times whether she was thinking about Mick's past, or was ever going to mention it.

They both knew that back in Dayton Ohio, that seething centre of testosterone-addled cavemen and dainty damsels, Mick had a reputation. It was said he liked cock.

"Is that tight under the arms, Mr Bowers?"

On Ricky's request Mick had undressed to his boxer shorts and socks. He was taller than Ricky so looked down at the boy's head or the side of his face as he bent and prodded Mick, making a mark here and a stitch there. Ricky was short but finely toned, not muscled, just neat and slender and fresh. His head was in proportion to the rest of his body, unlike many tall lanky guys whose heads were too small.

"It's fine," Mick said, "but a bit tight round the...." What was the right word to use with a tailor? Mick pointed.

"Your cock and balls, Mr Bowers," Ricky said, leaving the under arms and crouching so he could address the problem. Mick felt Ricky's hands inside the trousers, working deftly to pull the fabric this way and that, then testing the tension. Ricky was testing the tension in Mick's cock as well.

"Take off the trousers please Mr Bowers."

"Call me Mick, please," he said, once again standing in his boxer shorts.

..................................

Mick lost his ass virginity when he was 18 and still a high school senior. He wasn't going to make college, at least not straight from high school. There was little opportunity in Dayton. Manufacturing had moved away, leaving retail, health and aged care. And the air force. But Mick had decided on the army. 'Keep my feet on the ground,' he said.

His English teacher was ex-army. Mr Wilson. Mick had been receiving a little tutoring from Mr Wilson, but it was going nowhere. He'd sit in his teacher's den, in the basement of his house, for an hour every Saturday, going through Shakespeare and Whitman and F Scott Fitzgerald and Emily Dickinson, while Mrs Wilson and their three young children were upstairs.

Mick was heterosexually active. He had a girlfriend, but what he enjoyed most was jerking off with his friends while they watched porn on VHS.

One afternoon Mr Wilson put down the books. 'This isn't working for you, is it Mick,' he said. Mick agreed. He liked Mr Wilson. He was friendlier than the jock teachers. Liked to talk. 'Why don't you tell me what you like to do,' Mr Wilson asked. 'What you and the guys get up to.'

Mick didn't remember the conversation in much detail, but he told Mr Wilson about jerking off to porn with his friends. He'd never confided in an adult before. And he wanted to see his teacher's reaction.

To Mick's amazement Mr Wilson had a DVD player. 'Want to watch porn with me and jerk off?' And to Mick's even greater amazement when the film Mr Wilson chose began it was two guys making out and jerking off.

'Have you ever watched gay porn?' Mick said no, but it was fascinating. And Mick just went with it, getting his cock out, stroking himself, just as he did with the guys. Mr Wilson did the same.

They talked about masturbation, what they did and when, their rituals - Mr Wilson liked wearing speedos - and suddenly Mick realised Mr Wilson was alongside him and placing his hand on Mick's cock.

The guys on screen were 69ing, sucking cock, way better than any girl Mick had watched. And without asking him, Mr Wilson reached over, placed a hand on Mick's head and pushed him down onto his cock. Mick had never sucked a cock before. Mr Wilson was big and hard, and Mick didn't want to displease him. And sucking cock felt like a challenge. Was he any good? Mr Wilson seemed to think so. He sucked greedily and moaned, and Mick wondered how soon Mr Wilson would cum in his mouth the way his girlfriend did.

But Mr Wilson didn't cum. Instead he pulled Mick off his cock, lifted him up by the arms and pushed Mick over to his desk. And then Mr Wilson pulled down Mick's pants and fingered his asshole. Mick had fingered his girlfriend's asshole many times so he knew what was going on, just that he was on the receiving end. Mr Wilson was great, talked to Mick the whole time, leaned down and whispered or kissed his back, ran his hands through Mick's hair. Mick felt strange and aroused, and didn't want it to stop.

And then Mr Wilson told him he was going to fuck his ass. Mick felt Mr Wilson apply lube like he'd seen in porn films before the guy fucked the girl up the ass, and then without any ceremony, he felt Mr Wilson insert his cock. He went slow but it hurt like hell. Mick cried out at which point Mr Wilson stopped being quite so gentle, reaching round to hold a hand over Mick's mouth. At this angle the pain increased, as did the tempo of Mr Wilson's thrusting. Fortunately Mr Wilson wasn't a stayer and soon came in Mick's ass. He remembered the kick and the spasm of the cock inside him, and then the strange warm feeling as Mr Wilson unloaded his semen deep in Mick's body.

And when he was done, Mr Wilson simply withdrew, and he and Mick dressed as if nothing had happened. 'I don't think we need to meet for tutoring again,' Mr Wilson said, and suggested Mick go upstairs and thank Mrs Wilson for letting him visit. This seemed the strangest thing of all, walking upstairs with her husband's cum leaking into his shorts, to thank his wife and say goodbye.

Mr Wilson never fucked him again. Later Mick found out that Mr Wilson had fucked a number of seniors, and left town in a hurry. Mick never let on what had happened to him. But after that Mick realised he was bisexual, a preference he kept quiet in the army but which he made the most of on leave.

....................................

Distracted by the remembrance of Mr Wilson, Mick had neglected Ricky. He looked down. The Latino kid's head was directly below him, at crotch height. Mick's cock was nearly half erect, tenting his boxers. Ricky was fixated by it. Mick grunted. Ricky looked up, catching Mick's gaze with his big brown eyes.

"Do you want me to suck it, Mr Bowers?"

"Call me Mick. Do you like to suck cock?"

Ricky smiled and pursed his lips sweetly. Mick was overwhelmed by a desire to see Ricky's lips wrapped around his cock. Mick nodded and watched Ricky turn his head back to the job in hand. The apprentice tailor slipped Mick's boxers down, letting Mick's cock spring into his face. And then with as little ceremony as Mr Wilson, placed his mouth over the cock and sucked.

Mick had to lean back and brace himself against the table to stop feeling giddy. Ricky was an enthusiastic cock sucker. The kid must be gay, Mick thought, although for a bisexual man, Mick had no reliable gaydar. Ricky stroked and sucked and spat and teased the cock head with his tongue, then plunged onto the shaft until all Mick could see was Ricky's dark hair tight against his torso. Mick was amazed the boy didn't gag or cough or need much air. He found himself holding his hands behind Ricky's head, straining to push his cock as far back into the boy's throat as he could. And Ricky just obliged, sometimes gasping for breath when Mick relented, but always plunging back on and taking just a little more cock each time.

And like Mr Wilson, Mick soon came. For a moment he wondered if he should cum in Ricky's mouth or pull back. But he came before deciding. Ricky maintained eye contact the whole time, almost expressionless in a drowsy enigmatic way. And Mick came like a hosepipe. Streams of cum erupted from his cock until even Ricky was overwhelmed. The kid leaned back and the last of Mick's cum splashed onto his olive skin.

Mick and Ricky sat and looked at each other for some time, Mick standing with his boxers round his knees and his still hard cock waving proudly in Ricky's face. Ricky rocked back on his haunches, gave Mick a little smile, then with one finger scraped up Mick's cum and transferred it to his mouth, then licked his lips.

"Would you like to put the trousers back on for me, Mr Bowers?"

Julio had just finished with a customer as Ricky led Matt out from the alteration room in the back of the shop. The owner's face lit up as he asked, "Mister Bowers, did Ricky treat you well … provide the customer service you deserved?"

Ricky looked back over his shoulder at Matt with a devilish grin before curling around his employer to take Matt's suit to the seamstress for alteration. Julio leaped into a rapid fire question and answer with Matt about the suits until he was sure his customer was totally satisfied.

"We will have both suits ready for you in, oh, an hour and a half, yes?" Julio asked after Ricky had again appeared. To Matt he said as he headed for a newly arriving customer, "You come again then."

With that same smirk on his face, Ricky passed by Matt, whispering, "Yes … you cum again then."



When Matt returned a couple of hours later, there was a closed sign in the front door. Ricky, however, was waiting in a customer relaxation area and -- at the sight of the man who had earlier cum in his mouth -- rose and met Matt at the door, unlocking, then relocking it.

"I have a bottle of wine in the back," he said, turning to head into the depth of the dimly illuminated store. "Or, if you like the hard stuff..."

Ricky laughed, remembering Matt's erection earlier in the day. He glanced back at Alice's driver and protector, letting his gaze drop to the groin with curiosity about whether that big cock was already hardening.

Again in the alteration room, Ricky stopped before a comfortable customer couch and sat on its arm, where -- without hesitation -- he began removing his clothes. After shedding his Italian-made shoes -- a gift from Julio for often pleasing the shop's customers in ways the previous assistant hadn't -- he opened his shirt to show his smooth, fit, youthful chest.