Note: This story was dynamically reformatted for online reading convenience.
 
 This is a semi-autobiographical telling of the daydreams I have of winning
the Lottery.  Names have been changed, but if you know who I am in the real
world, you'll know who I speak of.  Places are actually places in Salt Lake
City.  As I said, these are my daydreams.  Paradox116

   (very slow, MF at the end)



   Lotto Dreams: Part I

   Social Growth

   Chapter 1

   Nick sat back and contemplated the changes in his life.  He was 46 years
old, and was three weeks short of an anniversary.  Almost a year ago, he'd
been working in a small grocery just west of Salt Lake City.  The pay
hadn't been bad, but then, he'd been with this family business for
twenty-five years.  But there was no hope of advancement, just another
thirty years of boredom and idiots to look forward to.

   Then his life changed, with a huge Powerball payout.  Everyone told him
"Take the lump sum, man!  Think of all you can do with it!"

   But he'd often dreamed about what he'd do if the Goddess smiled on him
that way, and a lump payment wasn't in his plans.  He didn't plan to take
the money and screw up his life.  With yearly payments, if he fucked up,
the next year he would straighten it out.  Nope, for the next 30 years, his
finances were secure.  Even at his greediest, he didn't think he could
spend $2,000,000 (post-IRS) in a year more than once or twice.  He'd even
given his employer thirty days notice.  Those had been a loonngg thirty
days!

   This last year, he did come close to spending it all.  First, he'd taken
over his family's mortgages, one on his parent's condo, another one in the
same area for his younger sister, then the houses of his older sister and
his younger brother.

   For himself, he'd signed a one-year lease on a nice 4-bedroom place,
with an option to buy at the end of the lease.  Because he didn't know
where he really wanted to make his home yet, the lease was a good choice.
He knew he wanted big water, and a small yacht, or a nice fishing boat,
something ocean-worthy, but that one man could handle without too much
difficulty.  Maybe Washington, Oregon, maybe Northern Cali.  Or maybe New
England.  Hell, maybe Hawaii!

   Next came seven new cars, two SUVs, and a pickup truck.  His family was
definitely sharing his good fortune.  After that, he'd taken some time to
travel.  New York, Pennsylvania, Virginia.  Met good friends he knew only
from the Internet.  Spent days with two of them, and learned cyber- and
phone- sex had just whetted their appetites.  Then Washington and
California, meeting more friends.  Down to Texas, enjoying the company of
the Grove, and spending some time in touch with the Goddess.

   He loved to fly.  It occurred to him on the way home from Texas, as he
watched a flight attendant try to deal with more stupid people, he had the
money to actually do something more than sit and watch.  He'd learn to fly,
maybe get his brother Carl and his nephew Luke to learn too.  He was sure
there would be times a co-pilot would be needed, why not someone he liked a
lot?

   But now, he needed to do something about his social skills.  True, he'd
seduced two women he'd never physically met before, but he'd been
interacting virtually for a year with Dani, and probably seven years with
Lily.  They couldn't be considered new acquaintances.  He needed help with
face-to-face social events.  Ok, he admitted to himself, he needed help
with dating.

   He'd never considered himself to be good looking, although once in a
while he could see a trace of something a woman might find attractive. 
Usually if he took off his glasses and stepped back from the mirror enough
that his face was blurred.  He was 5' 9", and 272 pounds.  His hair was a
medium brown, with a good scattering of gray, especially around the
temples. But it was nice and full, and the gray, hell, he figured he'd
earned it all.

   Then another thought struck him, something he'd read in a Yahoo forum a
few years ago.  Someone had been discussing the advantages of escorts over
prostitutes, if he remembered right.  Something about escorts in the role
of teacher, not necessarily in sex, but in social interaction.  True, the
point of the discussion had been about young men, just beginning adulthood.
But it might work for an old dude.  Maybe someone to take to the Symphony,
the ballet, charity fundraisers.  Maybe someone to teach him how NOT to
dance like a spastic elephant.  He laughed at himself, 'Yeah, like that was
possible'.

   He thought some more, then called his bank to double check his balances.
Next deposit was scheduled for twenty-one days from now.  One of the first
things he'd done, before even flying to Boise to collect his winnings, was
open two more checking accounts.  The first one was for expenses, such as
home purchases and rent, and new car purchases.  The second was for
charity. He'd decided that after family was taken care of, he'd help others
who needed it.  But he only gave to recognized, organized charities.  Oh,
and he contributed to the Democrats.

   He laughed to himself when he remembered, less than a week after turning
in the winning ticket, the Bishop and Stake President of the area he lived
in had shown up at his door, encouraging him to do the 'right thing' and
pay his full tithe.  Nick had tried to be polite, but it was hard, and he'd
asked why he should begin such a practice when he hadn't been to church in
29 years?  Nah, he figured the LDS church had plenty of available cash.  He
did contribute heavily to Catholic charities, though.  Maybe he was being
spiteful?  He didn't care.

   The third account was his 'Do as I will' account.  He'd decided to
budget himself $10,000 a week.  He bought food, toys (his new computer and
home furnishings) and what he thought of as 'fun'; movies, music, books and
travel.  He'd also used the leftovers from each week's budget to purchase
nearly $100,000 worth of stocks, bonds and mutual funds.  Right now, the
balance of the three accounts still totaled $158,000.  More than enough to
start a makeover.

   He needed to get into shape.  His old job had kept him moving probably
40 of the 48 hours he was scheduled, and probably kept him from getting
even bigger than he was.  Time to join a gym, and maybe Weight-Watchers
again.  Then he looked in the newspaper classifieds.  Yup, under
"Entertainment", escort services competed with phone-sex lines and exotic
dancers.

   He made a few phone calls and sat back with a sigh, dissatisfied.  That
was a bust.  All they had really offered were prostitutes.  He already had
two very nice young women that he visited regularly, and he'd been flying
to one of the Nevada brothels every couple of months.  No, sex wasn't what
he was looking for in this case.  Then he thought about it some more.  Did
he know anyone who might have used such a service?  Nope.  Hmm, maybe Carl
would.  His brother Carl was a mortgage banker, and his company did a fair
amount of business with out of town clients.  But did he want to involve
his brother?  He considered this for a moment.

   He was single, and didn't have to answer to anyone.  His parents were
cool, as were his siblings; and he wasn't going to go out of his way to
embarrass them.  He wasn't a public figure, per se, and didn't really give
a damn about anyone's opinion besides his immediate family.  He picked up
the phone and called Carl's cell phone.

   "Hey Carl, what's up?"

   "Hey Nick, not much, Steve has a cold and is making Gina nuts.  You know
how she reacts to every whine and whimper."

   Gina was Carl's significant other, and Steven was their four-year-old
son.  Nick adored both of them.  "Carl, got a weird question for you.  Do
you know anything about Escort services?  Not prostitutes or dancers or
whatever, but that actually provide women to attend social occasions?"

   A short silence followed the question, and Nick thought he might have
offended his brother.

   "Umm, sorry, you're right, definitely a weird question.  Ok, can I ask
you some questions, without twisting your shorts?  I assume you want
someone attractive, but probably fairly sharp and well read.  No
bubbleheads, right?"

   "You said you weren't looking for prostitutes, but I suspect you'd be
willing to 'negotiate' for special services, if she appealed strongly to
you.  I mean, if you just wanted to get laid, I know you, you'd have asked
me for that.  Never mind, I've noticed your little trips to Vegas.  Nuff
said."

   "No comment," Nick answered, but Carl heard amused confirmation in his
older brother's tone.

   "Alright, tell me what you are looking for: Companionship, obviously. 
What else?"

   "I want someone to increase my social skills.  Teach me to dance, what
to wear.  You've seen my wardrobe; tee shirts and jeans, with a pair of
sneakers.  Some one that I could date, you know, 'Dinner and a movie', the
Symphony, a concert, hell, maybe the ballet.  Someone to take me clubbing,
after she teaches me to dance.  She'd have to have an eclectic taste in
music, though.  You know my radio's always set on 107.5.  I like classical
though too.  Hell, I like trance and electronica!  With the right girl, I'd
even try line-dancing.  Oh, and she can't be a vegetarian or major
health-food freak.  I'll be damned if I can't spend my money on good food.
Hmm, maybe she could teach me to be a better cook, too.  Oh, and moderate
to liberal in politics," remembering the invitation he'd received to a
Democratic fund-raiser coming up in about six weeks.

   Carl's laughter filled the phone.  "Ok, does this have to be all rolled
into one girl?"

   Nick thought about that.  "Actually, no.  I don't mind having a dozen
women seeking my company." Carl laughed out loud at that.  "Have some
thoughts?"

   "A couple, actually.  Let me make some calls.  Oh, when's the next
flight class?"

   "Saturday at 11:30.  I'll pick you and Luke up in the morning.  You
know, the more research I do though, the more I think we should take the
jet course too.  Some of the older jets are cheaper than a big turbo-prop."

   "Well, if you didn't want to seat twenty people..." Carl chuckled.

   "Yeah, and who do I leave home?  Gina and Luke's girlfriend?  Yeah, that
would make me damn popular!" The fact was, even without Luke and his sister
Sarah's dates, there were still ten bodies in his immediate family.  And he
kind of liked the thought of flying everyone to new and different places.

   "Yeah, yeah, you just know if you don't terrorize us all together,
you'll never get the next victims.  Anyway, I'll check on this, ask around,
and let you know as soon as I can.  See you Saturday!"

   "Ciao bro, kiss Gina and Steve for me!"



   Friday morning, he went down to the garage and climbed into his dark
green 2004 Jaguar.  It was one of the most expensive car he'd ever owned,
and was more fun to drive than any of the cars he'd test-driven, with the
exception of the Audi convertible parked beside it.  If the weather had
cooperated, though, he'd have taken the Audi.

   He popped his iPod into the deck and drove downtown to the appointment
his brother had arranged.  As he pulled up to the entryway of the Hilton, a
valet dashed up to open the door.  Collecting the player, he told the young
man, "I'll only be a couple of hours.  Don't go too far with it." He
laughed at the man's expression.  Here was a brand new, $60,000 car, being
driven by a guy in worn jeans, a sloppy tee, and sneakers that were hardly
new.

   He took the elevator to the 8th floor, and knocked on the door to the
room Carl had given him.

   Another young man opened the door.  "Are you a policeman, or a member of
any law enforcement agency?" he asked immediately.  Nick shook his head no.
"May I see your ID, please?" Nick opened his wallet and pulled out his
driver's license and state ID card.  The young man studied them for a
moment, then handed them back.  "Thank you, sir." He held his hand low, and
Nick slid a standard sized envelope into it.  "Please come in."

   As Nick stepped in, the young man stepped out and shut the door behind
him.  Nick looked around the nicely appointed suite, noting the closed door
to his left.  Within a minute of the door to the suite closing, he heard a
phone ring behind the closed door, and not 20 seconds later the door
opened. He was actually glad of their caution.  It reassured him that he
was dealing with intelligent folk.  But the woman that stepped through the
door took him by surprise.

   She was about his age, mid 40's.  She moved with grace and poise, her
shoulder length red hair framing a very fine face.  Her eyes were a green
that he almost suspected were contacts, if the scattering of freckles
across her cheeks hadn't indicated her hair color was probably natural. 
She was also quite short.  The top of her head barely reached the bottom of
his sternum when she stopped before him and offered her hand.  "How do you
do, Nick.  I'm Cyan"

   Nick took the proffered hand and bowed slightly to this enchanting
creature.  "Charmed, Cyan.  Shall we sit?"

   Cyan gave a delightful smile and bounced easily onto the couch like a
little girl, then turned to face him when he sat, as she'd indicated, at
the other end.  She wore a loose ankle length skirt of brilliant blue, and
a simple white blouse, and sat with one ankle tucked underneath her.

   "You know, you aren't like most of my clients," she began.  "Usually,
when someone contacts me, they have a simple request.  A certain type of
woman, for a specific purpose.  Fairly straightforward.  And I don't think
I've ever had as many pre-contacts before I spoke to the client.  But with
you, I heard from a very good client, asking if I was interested in what
might be a major project.  I was intrigued, especially when he couldn't
offer more details, but was very firm in his assertion it wasn't some game.
Then another client, asking if I was willing to speak with a friend about
this same project."

   "Then your brother Carl.  I think it shocked him to his toes to find out
whom he was speaking to.  We've known each other for years; he's helped me
purchase three homes so far.  He told me about you and your, shall we say,
'windfall'.  I'm going to assume you're serious; I know you can get laid
for a lot less than you'll pay my ladies.  Normally our fee begins at three
hundred dollars an hour, but I see a great deal of potential, so the fee
will be semi-negotiable.  You'll pre-pay a rate of 200 hundred dollars per
hour, with payment based on the expected length of the occasion.  The
ladies will bill you with a discreet note for additional amounts, depending
on their requirements and choice.  Agreed?"

   Nick thought about it.  It wasn't what he'd expected, but then he hadn't
been sure what to expect, either.  "I agree, Cyan."

   "Good!" She hopped off the couch and took his hand, pulling to his feet.
"One of the reasons I chose to meet here is that we are within walking
distance of some very good clothing stores.  I'm going to be your
fashionista." She grinned and looked him up and down.  "You do need some
serious help!" With that, she put his arm around her shoulder and led him
on the 'Quest to Make Nick Fashionable!'

   Personally, Nick was surprised at how much fashion sense he actually
possessed.  Cyan would take him into a store, where heads would turn to
look at the mismatched pair, the very short, sleek redhead and the taller,
much heavier man.  Then she'd tell him to go pick out a half-dozen outfits.
"Don't worry about size.  I know people who can make anything that you
like, look good on you.  We're looking for your personal taste here, what
you think looks good."

   When they'd finished in the sixth store, she told him, "Ok, I can see
some of your previous problem.  Your choices are good.  But without some
adjustments, most of them wouldn't work for you.  But that's easy to work
out.  Carl tells me you're looking for a health club to join.  Is that
right?"

   He nodded, and told her of his wandering from gym to spa, and
frustration that the people he'd spoken to had presented a façade of
support that he suspected would disappear as soon as he signed a contract.

   "You're mostly right.  So here, go to this club," she handed him a card
for one of the health clubs he'd visited, with a woman's name and a photo
of an attractive brunette with her hair in a functional ponytail.  "Tell
Connie Cyan sent you.  She'll help you put together a real program to get
in shape, and be there to encourage you.  She's not one to abandon someone
willing to work.  She'll also be your companion occasionally, if you
continue to use our service."

   "Now, lets go get you groomed.  You'll be amazed what the right haircut
will do for you." She turned him to study his face, then reached up and
lightly squeezed his left ear lobe, feeling the scar inside it.  "I thought
I saw a pierce mark there.  Do you have a problem re-doing it?"

   "Not at all.  I did it the first time while I was in New Orleans, sort
of a memorial for a great time.  I wasn't ready for a tattoo, and didn't
have the time for the ones I think about.

   "Ok.  I'll go pick out something for your ear.  Do you prefer gemstones
or dangles?"

   Nick grinned.  "Find me a nice dark red ruby.  Maybe it's time to
resurrect my inner vampire."

   Cyan looked at him curiously, then nodded.  "Any plans for tonight?"

   "No.  Probably curl up with a good book."

   "Come back to the hotel tonight before 10.  I'll have something ready
for you to wear.  Bring eight hundred for your escort, and plan to spend
the night wandering clubs, so bring another hundred or so for drinks and
cover charges.  Lydia will make you dance, so be ready.  But I promise, you
will have a good time, even if you don't drink."

   Nick looked at her in surprise.  "Carl told me, when I was asking him
about your likes and dislikes.  One of the reasons I didn't offer you a
drink back in the room, I didn't have any bottled water or soda.  And Lydia
doesn't smoke either, so she'll be avoiding the clubs that tend to get
smoky.  You'll have fun!"

   He'd nodded, a bit surprised.  And was very surprised again when he
looked in the mirror at his new simple, no maintenance cut.  'OK, Cyan was
right, this does look good.'

   "Hold still a sec," He was surprised when Cyan took his ear in her
hands. "Let's see if I can get this in without hurting you, or if we'll
need to go get you re-pierced."

   His ear stung for a moment, then he felt her twisting the back onto the
stud she'd installed.  "Perfect," she said with satisfaction.  It did look
good; the stone was almost blood red, about a half carat in size.

   They walked back to the Hilton, and she squeezed his hand.  "Now, go
home, get a nap, and have a high protein dinner.  You're gonna get some
exercise tonight!"

   The same valet brought around the Jag.  "A little more than two hours,"
he laughed as he took the tip Nick gave him.  Nick glanced down at the
dashboard clock, and realized he'd been with Cyan nearly five hours.  'Hope
she doesn't charge a bonus rate for extended hours.' Then he realized he
held a piece of paper.  It was a bill for an additional 300, written on the
back of the receipt for the stud, and asking him to include it with Lydia's
fee.  Honestly, he'd be more than happy to pay it.



   Chapter 2

   "Nick, Lydia says to keep your car handy, she's going to drag you around
town.  Have fun!" That was the message on his machine when he got home.  He
didn't wonder where she'd gotten his number; the answer would have been
Carl obviously.  He sat down instead at his computer and put together a new
playlist for his iPod, then loaded it up.  He hoped Lydia was in the mood
for House and Trance, if not, he figured she'd find a CD she liked in his
carrier.  Then he went to take a shower and get the recommended nap.

   He pulled up to the Hilton at 9:30.  "Don't bury it, I'll be back down
shortly," he told the valet as he handed him the keys to the Audi
convertible.  He rode the elevator to the 8th floor, and knocked at the
same door.  It was opened by one of his favorite visions.  She was a little
shorter than he, maybe 3 inches.  Small breasts covered with a tight gray
tube dress, and nipples that rose even as he tried not to stare.  Her hair
was cut short and gelled into a spiky 'do, and was died electric blue.  She
was a cute young woman, probably in her early 20's.  Dark brown eyes, a
nose that begged to be kissed, and lips that looked delicious.  He noticed
she'd dusted her make-up with blue glitter.

   "Good evening, you must be Nick.  Come on in." She stepped back, then
shut the door after him.  "I'm Lydia," she said, offering her hand.  "Your
clothes are in the bedroom."

   He stepped past her, and was surprised that she watched him walk away
with what looked to be a nod of pleased appraisal.  And he'd have sworn her
nipples had poked out more when he'd taken her hand.  Must be easily
aroused, he figured.  It would never occur to him that she'd found him
appealing.  In the bedroom, he found a dark silk suit, black loafers, and a
white linen shirt.  He laughed, apparently Cyan had taken his vampire
remark to heart.  He changed clothes, transferred his wallet, keys and a
small fold of five and ten dollar bills to his suit pockets, then set the
envelope he'd had in his back pocket on the dresser.  As he turned from
inspecting himself in the mirror, Lydia approached.

   "Damn, Nick, you look sharp!" He smiled as she casually brushed his
shoulders with one hand while discreetly slipping the envelope into the
dresser drawer.  Then she looped her arm in his.  "Ready to dance the night
away?"

   "For tonight, as ready as I ever will," he replied with a nervous
chuckle.

   "You'll be fine.  We'll start off fairly close.  You know Area 51?"

   "I've heard advertising for it, never been clubbing before, so haven't
been there."

   "That's ok, it's over on 3rd West and 5th South.  I'll show you where to
park."

   They went downstairs and the valet had to look twice at the ticket then
again at the person who handed it to him.  'Talk about major differences!
And the babe on his arm, Good Goddamn!' the young man thought.

   Lydia smiled appreciatively as Nick opened the door to the Cabriolet
quattro, and slid into the seat.  He walked around and settled behind the
wheel.  "The iPod has a Trance and House mix on it, or you can look through
the CDs."

   "Plenty of time for music in a bit, Nick, but I'll play the 'pod on the
way home.  Fair enough?  Now, why don't you ask the question every client
does.  You know, 'What's a nice girl like you...'"

   "Hmm, I could ask, but what if I didn't like the answer?  Then we're
both uncomfortable all night." He turned and gave her a smile. 
"Personally, I'm more concerned about what you'll do when you're confronted
with the 'spastic elephant' of dance."

   Lydia laughed delightedly.  "Good, that will give me a chance to use my
teaching skills in an extreme situation!  Nick, I'm in school working on my
degree in education.  I'm hoping to specialize in physical education,
especially dance.  Believe me, you will enjoy yourself tonight.  And if I
have anything to do with it, your dancing is going to impress more than
just me!"

   Nick had already considered the impression she was going to make on the
crowds, especially if she met any of her friends that didn't know her
secret.  But he decided she'd probably already planned for avoiding them
already, probably by taking him to places she didn't frequent often.  He
pulled around to the parking lot, and set the anti-theft equipment.  He
hated car alarms, but there were plenty of options that actually worked
better, and he'd had them all installed in both cars.

   Lydia took his hand and led him to the front of a fair sized line, much
to the dismay of those behind, and greeted the doorman by name.  "Hey
Lukas, good crowd starting up!  This is my friend Nick," she gave Nick's
hand a squeeze, "Remember his face when he comes back again."

   Lukas studied Nick stonily, then grinned and opened the velvet rope. 
"Absolutely, Lydia!  Nick, welcome to Area 51."

   Lydia led him to the box-office and flipped out her membership card. 
"You can pay the cover charge since you're with me, or buy a membership of
your own and they'll wave the cover charge for you.  I'll cost you three
bucks either way," she said with a grin.  After finding out how much a
membership cost, he bought it, and paid for Lydia.  He got two dollars back
on two tens.

   They moved to the bar next.  He ordered a bottle of water for them both,
then she dragged him onto the dance floor.  "Ok Nick," she had to lean
close so he could hear her over the pounding music, "Relax.  Watch me for a
moment, and try to move as I do." She began to sway slowly and gently, her
hands over her head.  She nodded at him, indicating he should copy her.  He
raised his hands as well, and began a slow sway that matched hers.  She
smiled at him, and began to gently move faster, now thrusting her hands
into the air to the throb of the bass.  As he matched her, she moved
closer, and began to rub her hip against his, then moved behind him, so
they danced back to back.

   Nick hoped he was still matching her moves, it felt like it, but visual
confirmation would have been reassuring.  He could feel it when she began
to dance faster, and his pace also increased, then she moved around to his
other hip and gave him a brilliant smile.  "I think the 'spastic elephant'
stayed home," she whispered.  Then she was pressing herself against his
torso, her nipples like little pebbles against his chest.  And then other
breasts pressed against his back, matching his moves as his matched
Lydia's.

   His eyes widened in surprise, and his lips formed "What the Hell". 
Lydia smiled and moved slightly to the side, making sure her nipples
continued their delightful contact, but so she could see around him.

   "Good evening, Jeanvieve." Lydia pronounced it jonveev.

   " 'Ello Lydia.  Who's your friend?" The woman, Jeanvieve apparently,
continued to press against him as they all moved together.

   "This is Nick.  Nick, say hello to Jeanvieve.  I'll introduce you
properly after this dance." Nick swallowed, his mouth suddenly dry as he
realized that Lydia's pelvis was massaging his groin, and he was reacting
like a jr.  high student.

   "Umm, sorry.  Hello Jeanvieve, pleased to meet you." Not that they'd met
yet.

   "So, Jeanvieve, where's Terrence tonight?"

   "Bastard went off with Cat, that slut bitch!  So I was dancing lonely
till you came in.  Nick don't move too bad, but I noticed you started easy
with him.  A beginner?"

   "Yep.  I was dateless and finally sweet talked him into coming along."

   "Very nice!  Wish I had a friend I could steal when I was dateless." The
music changed, and the women moved back, then took both of his arms,
leading him to a small table.  A waitress approached, and Jeanvieve ordered
a RedBull and vodka, Lydia ordered a RedBull, and Nick got another bottle
of water.  Nick paid for all the drinks.

   As they sat relaxing, he studied Jeanvieve.  A tall woman, nicely shaped
unfettered breasts in a black silk blouse, and long legs covered by a red
slit skirt.  Her blond hair hung loose to her shoulder blades, and her gray
eyes sparkled in a pleasant but unremarkable face.  As he sat there, Lydia
leaned her head on his shoulder comfortably as several patrons wandered by
to greet her.  So much for his theory she'd avoid places she was known.

   "So Nick, how do you know Lydia?"

   The question wasn't unexpected, but he hadn't really decided how to
answer.  Lydia answered for him.  "Nick was in a couple of my classes at
the U.  We had Literature 102 and Classical Appreciation 101 together." She
squeezed his arm and smiled at him then turned back to Jeanvieve.  Nick
just nodded.  How the hell did she know he'd been in both those classes
last semester?  Of course, maybe he had had those classes with her.  They'd
both been fairly large, and he'd tried not to flirt over-much with his much
younger classmates.  But the only reason Lydia would have noticed him was
because he was the oldest person in the class.  He'd even had ten years on
the professor.

   "Hey, lets go downstairs.  I think Nick will attract a lot of attention
dressed the way he is." Jeanvieve said.  Nick looked at her curiously.

   "You don't like my vampire look?" he grinned.

   Lydia laughed.  "You'll fit right in at Sanctuary.  It's a Goth club. 
That's one of the reasons I went with blue for my hair tonight.  And you
won't believe my makeup under the blacklights!"

   They moved to a stairway he hadn't noticed, and went down.  "One bad
thing, though Nick.  Sanctuary's another club.  So another cover charge, or
another membership."

   He shrugged.  "Small price to pay, for the company of two lovely
creatures like yourselves."

   "God, he talks sweet, Lyd!  You sure you don't mind sharing him?"

   "Nah, I think there's plenty to go around." And Nick would have sworn
she looked at his groin when she said it.

   Sanctuary was much smaller than Area 51, so it felt more crowded.  It
was darker, and the patrons were dressed, for the most part, much
differently than the dancers upstairs.  Nick and the ladies moved to the
cashier and both women offered their membership cards.  Nick paid for all
of them then followed them deeper into the club.

   "Lydia, can I dance with you and Nick again?" Jeanvieve asked hopefully.

   Lydia looked at her friend, then at Nick, raising her eyebrow in
question to him.

   "Just go easy on me.  We don't want to wake the 'spastic elephant', and
the way they're jumping around here would definitely wake him up."

   Lydia and Jeanvieve grinned and pulled him out on the floor.  They did
start out slow, but it wasn't long before they had him bouncing and shaking
as wildly as the majority of the club kids.

   They'd been dancing for most of an hour when his dates excused
themselves to 'do some maintenance'.  As he sat at the bar with another
bottle of water, a young woman pressed herself against him and spoke in his
ear.  "You dance pretty good, mister.  Buy me a drink and I'll show you
some more moves."

   Nick looked her over.  A little bit prettier than Jeanvieve, but nowhere
near Lydia's impact.  "Sure, what ya want?"

   "RedBull with" she replied.  That was what Jeanvieve had ordered
upstairs.

   "Prove your old enough," Nick challenged, then was startled when she
reached out and caressed his groin.  He caught her hand and gently moved it
away.  "Not what I had in mind.  Let's see your paper."

   The girl frowned but pulled an ID card out of the little pocketbook she
carried.  Nick looked it over, then turned to the bartender.  "Give my
friend a RedBull, without."

   Then Nick handed her back her ID.  "I'd demand a refund for that piece
of shit, sweetheart.  That won't even get you smokes in a Vietnamese shop."


   "How do you know, asswipe?  You a fuckin' cop?"

   "Worse, beautiful.  I'm a grocery clerk.  And do you kiss your momma
with that mouth?"

   She glared at him for a moment, leaned over, kissed him hard and hot,
then took her drink.  "Yeah I do, but not like that!" She wiggled her
caboose at him as she walked away.

   As he watched her walk away, Lydia and Jeanvieve sat down on each side
of him.  "Who's your friend?" Lydia asked, pressing her nipple against his
arm.

   "A youngster looking for an old fool," Nick replied with a smile.

   "Why were you looking at her ID, and why did she look pissed when you
handed it back?" Jeanvieve wanted to know.

   "She wanted me to buy her a drink.  RedBull with.  My idea of a good
evening is not a ticket for contributing, thank you." He laughed.  "She was
pissed cause I told her the fake ID was a piece of shit, and probably
wouldn't work to buy cigs in a Vietnamese market.  Told her she should
demand a refund."

   The lights turned off, then the room began to glow as the blacklights
came up.  He looked at Lydia, and then stared.  In the ultraviolet
illumination, her make-up had altered her appearance immensely.  There was
a band of light across her eyes, teardrops were painted on her cheeks and
lightning designs etched her cheekbones.  When he looked down, her dress
looked like it had disappeared, and that she stood in a tiny bra and
miniscule thong.

   Jeanvieve had a similar band across her eyes, but it seemed to glow like
the coals of a campfire instead of brightly like Lydia's.  Her lips were
outlined in blue, and she had what seemed to be a large bruise on her chin.
Her dress had also disappeared, and now she seemed to stand nude, with her
nipples and pubic hair glowingly highlighted.

   The women pulled him out on the floor and began to dance with and around
him, rubbing against the dim form that he was in the unusual light,
sandwiching him between their illuminated bodies.

   They danced until 2:00 in the morning.  They would have danced longer,
but stupid Salt Lake law made dancing illegal after 2.  He drove them home
to Jeanvieve's apartment, and he walked them to the door.  As Lydia hugged
him and thanked him for a wonderful evening, she whispered in his ear:
"Tomorrow, Neal is going to collect everything from the hotel room before
check out.  I think I'll have him bring me your clothes so I can burn them,
and you can't ever wear them again!" Then she bit his earlobe lightly.

   Out loud she added, "I hope I can drag you dancing again soon, Nick."
Then she laughed and ran into the apartment, shutting the door behind her.

   When he reached for his keys, he found a slip of paper.  When he was
seated in the car, he saw it was a bill for an additional two hundred
dollars.  He shrugged and realized that two and a half c-notes was a good
deal less than any other hourly rate he'd been offered when he was making
calls earlier in the week.  And honestly, the evening had been worth it.

   Chapter 3

   It was a good thing his flight class wasn't early in the day, or he'd
have slept through it.  As it was, he'd needed a long shower and a full pot
of coffee before feeling nearly normal.  But it had been worth it when Luke
mentioned he'd called last night to check on the time this morning and Nick
had neither answered nor returned his call.  Carl had turned and stared at
him when he told them he'd been out clubbing.  Luke wanted to know where
he'd gone, and if the music was good.  Nick had admitted the music was ok,
but the company had made it even better.  Then he left it at that.

   Now he was pulling into the parking lot of the health club he'd visited
Wednesday.  It was a new facility, he'd noticed, with lots of
state-of-the-art equipment.  It was too bad the personnel at the main desk
had been such pricks.  But Cyan had told him whom to ask for, and he walked
through the door.

   The same condescending ass he'd spoken to Wednesday manned the greeter
station.  "Ah, welcome back!  So, you've decided to join us, hmm?  Let me
ask Roger to get you set up!"

   Nick held up a restraining hand.  "Actually, I want to speak to Connie."

   "Well, Connie's not really qualified to...." the man began, then shut up
when Nick leaned toward him, his eyes narrowed in irritation.

   "If Connie isn't here, I'll come back another time.  If she is here, I'd
appreciate it if you'd page her."

   The man nodded, disgruntled, then turned to the little microphone that
stood on the desk, and made the page.

   Nick looked around again as he waited, and noted the attractive brunette
that weaved her way through the machines, sometimes offering encouragement
or instruction to a patron.  The biking shorts she wore accented her nicely
muscled legs, and the tee shirt with the company logo fit her comfortably,
not enhancing her physique, but not concealing it either.

   "Connie, this gentleman wanted to speak to you.  Take care of him, then
go get me a bottle of PowerAde." He turned and greeted the next member with
false camaraderie as Connie glared daggers at him.

   "Hi, I'm Connie.  What can I do for you, Mr. ...?"

   "Essex, Nick Essex.  I've been looking for a health club to join, and
hadn't felt like I was getting the response I wanted from the salespeople
pretending to be trainers.  My friend Cyan said I should come here and ask
for you."

   "Oh!  Cyan told me you might come by.  She didn't know when though. 
Come on through, I'll show you around." She leaned over the desk and
clicked the turnstile release.  "Todd, I'm going to be busy, get your own
damn drink."

   The pretty brunette turned back to Nick.  "Did you bring something to
work out in?"

   "Yeah, got some cut-off sweats and tee shirt in here," he indicated the
hiking pack he carried.  "I had to call and beg Lydia not to trash my
sneakers this morning, though.  I decided I'd need them."

   "Why was Lydia going to trash your shoes?  Oh, you're the special
project Cyan has been hinting about!"

   Nick laughed.  "Is being a project a good or bad thing?"

   "Well good or bad aside, you've made us curious.  Go in and change, and
I'll talk to you when you get back out."

   When Nick came out, Connie was speaking calmly to a man wearing a staff
shirt that had the word "manager" under his name and a clearly irritated
Todd.  "She's not a qualified trainer, Jack.  Let someone experienced take
care of this guy!"

   "Oh, like you, Todd?" Nick sneered the name, then turned to the other
man.  "Do you know the feeling I got from your 'trainers', Jack?  I got the
distinct feeling that as soon as I signed their contract, the only help I'd
see was them helping themselves to my wallet."

   "I asked around, Jack.  Several people told me to come back here, and
talk to Connie.  They told me she'd work me hard, but she'd be right there
whenever I needed help or had a question.  Now, if you'll excuse us, Connie
was going to help me get a program set up, then we were going to sign some
papers." Nick held out his arm, indicating Connie should lead the way.

   As Connie was showing him the machines and free weights, she explained
that what she did here was "off-the-clock" as far as Cyan was concerned. 
"In other words, your deal with Cyan has nothing to do with what I help you
with here."

   Nick nodded his understanding while concentrating on the deltoid
exercise he was trying to master.

   When they sat at the little desk to fill out his application on the
computer, he was sweating freely.  Connie had worked him just as hard as
promised.  "Connie, I have a question about what the club offers.  You
showed me the machines, and the sauna and pool will be real handy.  Does
the club offer self-defense classes?  Karate, Judo, Kung Fu?" he said the
last with a grin.

   "No, but if you're really interested, I know a few fellows that are
instructors.  I could hook you up."

   Nick grinned at the cute brunette.  "Would that be "off the clock"?

   She looked around then blew him a raspberry.

   He showered at the gym, after asking about Connie's schedule, then
headed over to Weight-Watchers.  He figured if he was gonna do the work, he
may as well work on the diet too.



   The phone rang Thursday evening as he sat at the computer, searching for
information on airplanes.  "Yello," he said into the handset.

   "Good evening Nick." He recognized Cyan's voice immediately.  "How has
your week been?"

   "Pretty good, although Connie thinks I need to come in 9 times a week."

   He heard Cyan laugh.  "Connie has been telling the ladies about you. 
She's impressed with your efforts, and she doesn't impress easily.  Oh, I
saved your jeans from Lydia Friday night, but she had her way with your
shirt.  Sorry."

   He laughed.  "Don't tell her, but I have a closet full of replacements.
Although she's welcome to my white work shirts.  I keep thinking I should
have a ceremonial bonfire with them."

   "Anyway, the reason I'm calling.  Lydia has been hinting she'd like
another occasion with you; maybe taking you out again and dancing some
more, but I had another thought.  Your brother mentioned you had some
classical music interest.  Is that right?"

   "Yeah, I listen to it when the mood strikes."

   "Good.  The Symphony has a concert this Saturday.  I believe the
featured soloist is Roger McDuria on the violin.  Let's negotiate.  I'll
reserve two tickets in your name, but you'll have to purchase them.  Sorry,
but that's how it works." He made a noise of agreement.  "Good.  Now Lydia
has never been to the Symphony, but she's like you, she does enjoy the
classics.  For seven fifty, I'll assign her to you for five hours.  That
would give you time for a very nice dinner, the Symphony, and an hour to
just talk.  But I'll make it open-ended.  If she wants to drag you to the
clubs after, it's "off the clock" as far as I'm concerned.  You'll have to
make your own negotiation with her, though." Cyan suspected there would be
no negotiation; Lydia was more likely to turn it into a real date once the
clock struck ten.  Nick wasn't likely to get laid, though.

   "I'd like that.  Now, how formal would this be?  Would the dark silk
suit be ok, or should I wear the tux?" On the previous Tuesday six
hand-altered outfits had been delivered to his home, five more suits in
various shades of gray and black, and a very nice classic black tuxedo with
all the trim.

   "I'm a traditional woman, Nick.  I say you can't go wrong with a tux. 
But I'll check with Lydia, you might want the suit if she makes you dance
after.  Actually, I'll have her give you a call, and you can decide on a
restaurant together.  I'll make sure you have reservations.  Nick, I have
to admit, working with you is going to be a pleasure.  You're making me
work harder than any other client, and I'm having a blast!  Talk to you
again soon!"

   Nick chuckled.  Ok, he was paying for a date.  If he'd just asked
someone, he'd still pay for it.  Admittedly, a lot less.  But he was almost
guaranteed a pleasant evening and good company with Cyan's help.  On his
own, he foresaw a night of slow conversation, uncomfortable pauses and
probably little common interests.  He preferred to pay the high fee rather
than suffer a wasted evening.



   He was sitting down to dinner when the phone rang.  He figured it was
probably his mother, calling to harangue him for not checking in.  It had
been, he admitted, a whole week since they'd talked.  He was pleasantly
surprised to hear Lydia on the other end, instead.

   "Hey handsome!"

   Nick laughed.  "Well, hello beautiful!  How have you been?"

   They chatted for a while, discussing what to wear Saturday, where to
eat, other important matters.  They agreed the tux would be good; he could
always check the coat and dance in the vest.

   He could hear someone in the background on her end, it sounded like they
were whispering to Lydia.  "Nick, question for ya, well, actually a
request. Jeanvieve wants to know if we'll take her dancing too.  She says
she'll pay her own way, it's not like a date, but she says she had a good
time with us and wants to do it again.  I told her I'd ask, but it was
totally up to you."

   "Is she there?" Nick asked.

   He could almost hear her embarrassment as she answered affirmatively.

   "Let me talk to her, then."

   "Umm, hello Nick.  I'm sorry, it was a dumb idea, never mind!" Her words
seemed to tumble out of her.

   "Hello Jeanvieve.  No, it wasn't a dumb idea.  If it's ok with Lydia,
we'll make it a date.  My treat, same as any date.  Shall I pick you up
about 10?" He could hear them talking, but couldn't hear what was being
said, probably someone's hand was over the mouthpiece.

   But he distinctly heard Lydia say, "I told you he'd say yes!  He is
absolutely cool!"

   Then Lydia was back on the line.  "Nick, thank you.  Jean is one of my
best friends, and she's feeling a little depressed.  Terrence is going all
over the club scene saying Jean's a worthless piece of...  well, you know;
can't dance, rotten fuck; like he'd know, I know she's never let him near
it!  Just putting her down all over."

   "Well, we'll improve her mood, guaranteed!"

   "Yes, we will.  Pick me up at my place, about 5?"

   Since Nick didn't know where she lived, he figured she meant at the
Hilton.  "Looking forward to it, dear.  Talk to you later!"

   They had dinner at Christopher's, a very nice restaurant serving the
delicious steaks Nick preferred, and a marvelous pasta dish that Lydia
insisted he sample.  They talked about a dozen different subjects, laughing
about some of the professors they'd had last year at the U, what movies
they'd loved and hated, books and music.  When it was time to leave, Nick
was almost reluctant for the Symphony, because they wouldn't be able to
talk more there.

   The restaurant was just two blocks south of Abravanel Hall, so they
strolled casually, her arm tucked in his as she leaned slightly against
him. Tonight, she wore the classic 'little black dress'.  A strap behind
her neck held up the backless fabric that seemed to drape over her,
accentuating her breasts even as it discreetly hid her cleavage.  The dress
hung down to about four inches above the knee, and her three-inch heels
seemed to stretch her legs enchantingly.  Her hair was still spiky and
blue, and he still loved it that way.

   "Nick, I realize some things about you.  One, you obviously have money,
because I'm here with you right now.  But you aren't used to it.  People
who have had money for a long time bitch over every penny they spend.  When
Cyan or the rest of us do business with them, they try to negotiate every
discount they can.  They'd insist Cyan pay for tonight's tickets.  They'd
pay more, of course, because she'd only adjust her fee.  But they wouldn't
care, because 'The tickets were free'.  "

   "Cyan took you shopping.  She informed you in advance of her fee, and
how long she intended to be.  She would have had to bill other clients at
least twice, and charged them ridiculous late fees.  You had her fee, in
cash, ready for her.  You even turned it over to Neal without hesitating.
Do you know how thrilled she was about that?  She billed you for her
additional time.  Did you notice she gave you the receipt for this?" Lydia
tapped his ear stud.  "Normally, she'd just add the amount she paid, and
another fifty to seventy-five percent to her bill.  Old money has no clue
what anything costs, but they bitch if they have to pay.  Last Friday, you
arrived with my fee, and full payment of Cyan's bill.  You don't negotiate.
Why?"

   They walk on for a bit more before he answered.  "You're right, I'm not
old money.  I know what things cost.  I called around before I contacted
Cyan.  I know what other so-called 'escorts' were asking, and what they
offered for their fees.  The service Cyan offers is well worth what I pay
her, or you, or even Connie if I need her services.  So far, I'm pleased
with the cost-to-benefit ratio.  I imagine I might try to negotiate if we
started discussing more unexpected or 'personal' services.  But when I'm
satisfied with service, I pay." He grinned at her.  "But I don't tip, so
make sure you include that in the bill."

   Lydia knew he'd lied there.  She'd seen the tip he'd left at the
restaurant, and Connie said he tipped her after every session at the gym.
What he meant was he expected her bill to be padded comfortably.  She had
to admit that Friday, it had been.  Tonight, maybe she'd see if she could
get a tip, instead.

   "Do you think I'm pretty, Nick?"

   "Very much so."

   "I thought so.  You looked at me Friday night like you wanted to take me
in your arms.  But you didn't because that was too personal.  You didn't
try to kiss me good night, even after I bit your ear.  Because we had a
contractual situation.  Tonight, when we dance, you'll kiss me, because
we're "off the clock".  But you know you won't get me into your bed,
because that's one of those unusual and personal matters we have to
negotiate."

   He nodded.  "I know.  And I like you, and want to know you better before
I try that negotiation.  I'm fairly patient." He added with a grin.

   "Well, just because we're not ready to negotiate, doesn't mean you'll
necessarily sleep alone tonight." Lydia looked up at him as he led them to
the box-office.

   When they'd wandered to a private corner of the lobby, he looked at her
enquiringly.  "Explain that, please."

   Lydia bit her lip for a moment trying not to giggle as her eyes sparkled
mirthfully.  "I mean, Jeanvieve thinks you're very nice.  Very nice indeed.
In fact, she said she thought you were hot.  Actually, she said: 'That Nick
is really hot.  I wonder if an old guy like him would be interested in me.'
"

   "Oh sure, build me up as hot, then bring in the 'old guy' and cut me
down again.  You are a cruel young lady, Lydia." Then he wrapped his arm
around her waist and led her to their seats.



   The symphony had been a delight.  Following Lydia's directions, he
pulled the Jaguar XK8 into the parking lot of Jeanvieve's apartment complex
about 10:00.  "I was going to have you leave your coat here, but you look
so good, I want to dance with you in your tuxedo.  I told Jeanvieve to
dress-up, I hope she listened!  Wait here, I'll go get her."

   When they came back, it was obvious that Jean had indeed paid attention
to her friend's advice.  She wore a tight little dress that hung to her mid
thigh, and was cut low to accent her full bosom.  The color of the dress
almost matched the dark green paint of his car.  Tonight, her hair was
pulled into a French braid that hung down her spine, and she'd done
something with her makeup that turned her pleasant face into something
remarkable.

   Nick saw her stop and look around the parking lot, and realized
Jeanvieve was looking for the Audi from last night.  He was going to honk,
but Lydia took her by the arm and led her toward him.  He got out and
walked around the car, opening the passenger door for the ladies.  Lydia
climbed in first, ensconcing herself in the back seat, and leaving Jean no
choice but to sit shotgun.

   "This isn't the car you had last night.  I had a bit to drink, but I do
remember your car.  For one thing, it was a convertible."

   "Yeah, but they're calling for rain tonight, so I broke out the
hardtop."

   "Still, two awfully nice cars.  Anymore for me watch for?"

   "Nah, I'm content with the Audi and the Jag." He grinned at her as he
put the car in gear and pulled away from the lot.

   "So where am I taking you ladies tonight, Lydia?"

   Lydia leaned up between the bucket seats.  "Where is Terrence going to
be, Jean?  Do you know?"

   Thinking that Lydia wanted to know so they could avoid him, she answered
truthfully.  "Same place as always on a Saturday night, the Vortex." She
sounded disgusted.

   "That's what I thought.  Ok, Club Vortex, my sweet Chauffer.  It's on
West Temple and 4th south." Then she turned to Jeanvieve.  "I know you
think you want to avoid him.  But we have here a handsome sumbitch in a
TUXEDO as our date.  One who drives a Jag!  I'd say that makes Terrence a
big fat zero.  I, for one, plan to show you off and make sure Terrence
KNOWS what he might have had."

   Jeanvieve looked at Lydia, with doubtful eyes, then she looked at Nick.
Her eyes widened in surprise when she realized he was all for this plan. 
"Sounds good to me," she admitted.

   They zipped into the lot, and Nick jogged around to open the door for
Jeanvieve.  "Ok, this is freaky.  I haven't had anyone pull the 'Gentleman'
routine on me in years!" Jean admitted.

   "Want to know something really freaky?" Lydia asked.  "You know Connie
from the health club?  She says he does this kind of crap without thinking
about it.  It's not a 'routine'."

   Lydia again led them to the front of the line, past a few irate faces.
The doorman could have been the brother of Lukas, the doorman at Area 51.
Lydia stood on tiptoe and kissed the man's cheek, as did Jeanvieve.  The
line behind them hooted their amusement.  Lydia looked back and gave the
crowd a grin, then turned to the lucky fellow.  "Joshua, my sweet man! 
This is my dear friend Nick.  Memorize this handsome face, you'll see it
often." She leaned close and caressed his cheek with her lips.  "And don't
you ever leave him standing with the riff-raff, K sweetie?" The man just
laughed and opened the door.

   "Ok sweet Nicolas.  Nother club, nother membership.  Sometimes I wish
they had like a multi-pass to all the clubs!  Oh well." She led them to the
cashier.

   Nick took out his wallet, then closed his hand firmly on Jeanvieve's
pocketbook when she reached for the cover.  "You're my date, too.  If you
want, you can pay for the parking."

   Jeanvieve looked confused.  "But parking is free here."

   "My point, exactly." The cashier just smiled at the exchange.

   They entered the club proper and let the music flow over them.  Lydia
gave a wave of greeting to a pair near the bar while Jean looked around
nervously.  Probably looking for asshole Terrence, Nick thought.  Then
Lydia was dragging them both to the dance floor.

   They danced all night with short breaks to refresh themselves.  Asshole
Terrence did appear and tried to make Jean miserable, but by that point of
the night, the threesome were surrounded with the girl's friends.

   "Hey Jean, you hanging around with old bastards now?" He started off. 
"Can't handle a real man, so you have to collect the geriatric crew.  Fuck,
look at him, he's even dressed for a funeral."

   Nick looked up slowly and caught the young man's eye.  "You must be
Terrence.  I've been hearing a lot about you tonight." The young idiot
looked smug at this, thinking the best of his loyal friends.  "Yep, your
friends have been filling my ears with your exploits."

   "Personally, if it's all true...."

   "Oh man, it's ALL true!!" Terrence spouted off.

   "Like I was saying, if it's all true, someone needs to kick your ass
royally.  Tell you what, come to the gym.  We'll get in the ring, and I'll
do the honors myself."

   "Why don't you try it here, ya dried up old prick?  I don't need no ring
to take you!"

   "Because, if I do it here, it's called assault.  I go to jail.  I don't
get to dance anymore with this gorgeous woman," he looped his arm around
Jeanvieve's waist and kissed her cheek.  "Nor with this one." He did the
same with Lydia.

   Terrence looked even angrier when he realized this old man, easily old
enough to be his father, was claiming two of the hottest women in the club
as his dates.  Even in his anger, he realized one of the reasons he was
acting this way was jealousy.  Jean was looking spectacular tonight.  He
wanted her back, but she looked very content with this guy's arm around
her. And Lydia had always made him rock hard.  Seeing her being held by the
same man made him flip.

   He threw a punch.  What surprised him was the punch connected, splitting
the skin and cracking the guy's cheekbone.

   Nick sat there and touched his cheek lightly, flinching at the pain,
then feeling the wetness running down his cheek and into the collar of his
white shirt.  "God damn little mother-fucking vermin piece of shit!" Then
he pulled back his leg and drove his foot into Terrence's knee, snapping it
backwards and dropping the screaming youth to the floor.  Nick stood up
then.  "Time to go.  I think I'm going to need a stitch or two."

   Jeanvieve tried to dab at the cut that was still oozing blood down his
face, but he flinched and caught her hand, then kissed it reassuringly. 
"Please don't, I think it's broken."

   Nick handed Lydia the keys.  "You drive, take me over to St.  Marks."

   "Why St.  Marks?  LDS is closer."

   "I know.  Which is why I think they probably took asshole Terrence
there. If we go there, someone might decide to call the cops.  I don't want
to deal with that crap." He turned to look over the seat at Jean.  "You
know, I was really hoping to seduce you tonight.  But I don't think I can
give you the proper attention now.  Can I have a rain check?"

   Jeanvieve looked at him in shock.  Did he really say what she'd heard?
What about Lydia?  She looked at Lydia; she looked like she was biting her
lip to keep from smiling, or laughing out loud.  She looked at Nick, the
bar towel tucked in his collar to catch the blood that still oozed out and
down, the swelling that was forcing his left eye into a squint.  Jean
cleared her throat and tried to speak, then tried again.  "Umm, sure, a
rain check...that would be nice.  Sure, anytime." Yeah, she thought, I'll
take you to bed anytime.  God, what was she thinking?

   Lydia parked the car in the hospital parking lot, and they made their
way to the emergency room.  Nick pulled out his wallet, dug through his
credit cards, temporary club membership cards and library card before he
found an insurance card.  Then Lydia and Jean began filling out forms for
him as the registrar asked him questions.  Yes, he'd fallen; hit the coffee
table with his face.  Yes he thought his cheek was broken.  Yes, both women
were welcome in the treatment room.

   He followed a nurse into one of the treatment rooms.  "Take off your
coat and shirt." She told him.  Jeanvieve watched as he unbuttoned his coat
and vest.  She figured both of them could be cleaned.  The shirt and his
tie were probably shot though.  Blood just didn't like to let go of silk.
He sat there naked from the waist up as the nurse took his vital signs and
Jeanvieve and Lydia both looked him over appraisingly.  He was surprisingly
large, the clothing had hidden it well.  Still, Jeanvieve thought, not a
deal-breaker.  Actually, when she thought about his declaration of
seduction, she still had a tingle between her legs.  No, he could still
have his rain check.

   Lydia's thoughts were running in a similar vein.  She wasn't turned on
like Jean, but she could definitely see potential.  Maybe she'd start
working out with him and Connie, offer him some more motivation.

   After x-rays, a shot of painkiller and a pair of stitches, he was
released with a prescription for more painkillers and the apology that,
although the bone was cracked, there wasn't much that could be done for it.


   Nick sprawled in the passenger seat and gave Lydia directions to his
house.  With the help of the women, he was laid out on his bed before the
world slipped away.

   As Lydia and Jeanvieve waited for a cab, they talked.  "Ok Jean, I know
what you want to ask.  Why didn't I speak up when Nick said Terrence
spoiled his plans for the night?  First, Nick and I have an agreement.  I
get to make the first moves, which I make when I'm ready.  I asked him out
last Friday.  He reciprocated tonight.  I'm not ready to rumba with him
yet. For now, he seems willing to wait patiently.  But I certainly don't
expect him to go without just because I'm taking a time-out."

   "So I told him what you'd said about him.  I figured if he were at all
interested, he'd make a move.  And I think he would have swung by after he
took me home tonight to offer another 'Thank you for a lovely evening'. 
What did he say?  Oh yeah, 'Asshole Terrence' kind of spoiled things."

   The honking of the cab interrupted them.  They stood in the doorway, and
Jeanvieve looked back down the hall towards Nick's bedroom, then sighed and
followed Lydia out.

   The telephone woke him up the next morning.  It was his Mother calling
to ask him to pick up a few things for the birthday dinner she was having
that night.  He told her sure, no problem, then unthinkingly put his head
between his hands after he hung up.  The pain woke him up completely.  He
went to the bathroom and looked in the mirror.  Oh yeah, it was a doozy. 
Big black bruise just below his eye, with two stitches showing proudly.  He
wondered if he could convince his mother it had been an accident at home.
Yeah, he thought, like she EVER believed an important lie.  Actually, she
probably NEVER believed a lie, she just let the minor ones slide.

   Oh well, he'd worry about that this afternoon.  For now, he needed a
shower, he'd skip the shave this morning, but he had blood caked on his
neck and in the hair behind his ear.  But first, half a pain pill.  Coffee
after shower, then see how close to human he felt.

   He made it to the gym ok, and was surprised to find Lydia waiting with
Connie.  "Got a new work-out partner for you, Nick.  Lydia thinks she can
add a little motivation.  We'll see." Connie grinned, curious to what
motivation Lydia had in mind.

   As they sat on the stationary bikes warming up, Lydia began to talk. 
"Cyan knows about last night.  It's one of her rules, anything that might
attract police notice to a client, she better hear about.  She makes no
exceptions.  If you got pulled over for speeding with one of her ladies in
the car, we'd tell her."

   "She says don't worry about, she talked to the barman that was there,
helped him strengthen his memory.  If it comes up, you were drinking water
all night.  Terrence was drinking RedBulls with.  Terrence hit you first,
after exchanging words with you.  You struck back, then left."

   Their conversation turned to other things, and they chatted freely like
at dinner the night before.  One thing Nick did notice was that the weights
on each exercise he did were increased, as were the repetitions.  Not
enough to make him uncomfortable, but enough to have him sweating before he
started his time on the treadmill.  He was usually halfway through his run
before the sweat really got started.

   "What did the doctor tell you about getting your stitches wet?"

   "Not much, but I was careful in the shower.  Why?"

   "Let's go down stairs and swim a few laps.  Help you cool off."

   He agreed, and went to change into his suit.  But when he got to the
pool, he wasn't sure about the 'cooling off'.  Lydia stood by the pool in a
bikini that reminded him of her gray dress under the blacklights.  But this
one revealed all the skin the dark club had hidden.  It was a simple white
design, but she looked very good in it.

   They were alone, so she smiled at him and turned her back to him.  She
seemed to be making adjustments before she hopped off the side and
submersed herself, still not facing him.  She moved to the far end of the
pool, then motioned him to swim to her.  He swam carefully, keeping his
face well above the water and trying not to splash too much.

   "I said I was going to motivate you.  Here's your first reward." With
that, she lifted herself half out of the water, so she was submerged from
her belly down.  Her white bikini top may as well have been transparent
though, for all it concealed.  He'd already noted she was a bit small
breasted.  Personally, that didn't bother him; he figured any female
breasts were good breasts.  But now he saw them nude for all intents and
purposes.  They were small, between an A and B cup, but they were
wonderfully shaped, and her nipples stood out like pencil erasers.

   "You can touch one, then you have to swim away and back to me.  Then you
get another reward."

   Nick cupped her left breast, feeling her hard point against his palm. 
"Pinch it, Nick, I like that." He did, rolling it between his finger and
thumb.  "Ok, go!"

   Nick was off like a shot, swimming strongly to the end and back for
another reward.  They were still alone, so Lydia slipped half of her bikini
off and offered another reward.  "Suck on it, Nick.  Taste me" He did,
savoring the feel of her in his mouth, tasting pool water and her skin. 
"Two more laps, sweetheart."

   When he returned, she was sitting on the edge of the pool.  She'd done
something with her top, pads or something replaced because she no longer
appeared nude.  But when he stopped in front of her, she spread her legs
apart and showed him that the gusset of her bottoms were thrust against her
vaginal lips.

   "You can touch my legs as high as you like, but nothing but leg, and you
don't have to use your hands." Nick could take a hint, and kissed the
inside of her thighs as high as he dared without breaking her rule.  "Swim
away, little fishy.  I have more bait for you when you get back."

   Nick swam back and forth, first for a touch of her vaginal folds, then
for his final reward, a taste of this delightful woman.  Apparently her
teasing had worked her up as well, because when he ran his tongue slowly
along her sex, she climaxed when he contacted her exposed little clit.

   "Mmm, that was nice, Nick.  Maybe I'll try to get Connie to motivate you
too.  You come here every day?" She placed a teasing emphasis on the word
come.

   "Everyday, yes.  Does that mean I will 'see more' of you here?"

   "I wouldn't be surprised.  Take care, sweet Nicolas!" With that, she
moved to the ladies locker room.

   When he got back upstairs, Connie wandered over with a bottle of water
for him.  "So did Lydia get you well motivated?" She asked as he drank
deeply.

   "Oh yeah, you could say that." He replied with a grin.

   "I'll have to ask her how she did it.  I'm always looking for good
methods." She touched him lightly just below where the bruise stopped. 
"I'll ask around, see if we can't find someone to help you be less
'clumsy'. Have a good Sunday, and I'll see you tomorrow."

   Chapter 4

   It was four months since Nick's first meeting with Cyan.  With Connie
and Lydia's help, he was down to 245 lbs, the 'spastic elephant' had been
slain and he was much more comfortable speaking with strangers in a social
situation.

   Although he'd been assigned several other women for various occasions,
for the most part Lydia was his companion.  They got along well, she still
dragged him out clubbing at least twice a month, and they flirted
outrageously with each other.  Although they had yet to engage in
intercourse, they had, in Lydia's efforts to 'motivate' him, enjoyed a
great deal of oral passions and long delightful periods of caressing one
another, usually to a mutual climax.  Nick was pretty sure Cyan knew what
Lydia was up to, even though Lydia had declared all clubbing and gym time
to be "Off the clock".

   Tonight, they were going to a charity event, dinner, dancing and a
silent auction and Casino night for the Shriner's Hospital.  Nick heavily
supported the Shriner's because they'd done the surgery on his nephew's
fingers, separating two that had failed to separate during gestation.

   Nick had been considering something for close to six weeks, and decided
he had nothing to loose be bringing the matter up.  He called Cyan, and
asked her to have Lydia give him a call.

   He was on his computer working out expenses for the airplane he wanted
to buy when Lydia called him.  "Hello Nick, Cyan tells me you wish to
discuss an important matter."

   "Yes, I would.  I don't know the best way to bring this up, but I'd like
to discuss expanding our working relationship." He licked his lips
nervously, afraid she'd react badly.

   Her reaction wasn't what he'd expected; she chuckled softly.  "I'm
assuming you're asking about intercourse."

   "I am.  This doesn't upset you, that I want to change the way our
relationship is?"

   "Upset me?  No, but I'm curious why you are ready to change it after
four months."

   "Actually, I've been thinking about it for the last six weeks.  But
we've been getting along so well, I didn't want to spoil it.  But I need to
know.  Are you willing to go that next step in our agreement?  If no, I'd
prefer to know now.  If not yet, then I want to know that too."

   Lydia smiled at the phone.  She'd been expecting this months ago.  She'd
even discussed it at length with both Cyan and Connie, partly because she
had no problem with the idea, and none at all with Nick, and partly to see
if Connie had actually let him get that far.  She knew none of the other
girls had; in fact, she'd heard more than one complaint that he never did
more than wrap his arm around them and hold them close.  Actually, other
than their make out sessions in the pool, he'd never kissed her.  But she
also knew he wasn't going without, thanks to Jeanvieve's occasional urges.

   "I'd be thrilled to take our agreement further," was what she said. 
"But you will need to discuss this Cyan as well.  Actually, I will too. 
So, if you like, I'll talk to her first, and ask her to call you."

   "Thank you, sweet Lydia.  And I'll pick you up about 6:30."

   When Cyan called him back an hour or so later, he was working through a
budget for the financing, upkeep and storage of an airplane.  His brother,
nephew and he had finished their first course and soloed safely, and were
now licensed for light single-engine craft.  Nick and Carl were signed up
for a course that would license them to fly multi-engine turbo-props now,
and Luke was taking the same course in Maryland, where he was a senior
majoring in political science.

   "Hello Nick.  Lydia called me, and we discussed your request.  To be
honest, I expected to have this conversation a long time ago.  Especially
after you started spending so much time together "off the clock".  I'm a
bit surprised at your patience."

   "To be equally honest, I was afraid to screw up the friendship we seemed
to be developing.  But lately, that seems to be less likely to happen, and
I thought that even if she refused, we could probably remain good friends.
To tell the truth, I'd rather you weren't involved, but Lydia pointed out
that that was not going to be the case.  She's amazingly loyal to you."

   "Yes, she is and I adore her for it.  But I think we need to get down to
business.  I know ALL about your activities "off the clock", so I'd guess
you aren't asking about a few hours at a time."

   Nick considered what she was saying.  She knew about the 'everything
but' aspect of his and Lydia's relationship, but was obviously unconcerned
or she'd have had it stopped, or he'd have gotten the bills for it.

   "For an overnight meeting, I charge 2500 dollars per woman.  Sixty
percent of that is the woman's fee.  Lydia has asked me to reduce this fee
for you.  I'm going to refuse.  For one thing, I don't want either of you
to feel obligated in any way.  For another, I don't want you thinking you
can take advantage of her."

   Nick started to sputter his outrage at such a concept when she
interrupted him.  "Oh, do shut up, Nick.  I doubt very much you would ever
do such a thing.  But that doesn't mean I'm not going to protect Lydia or
any of my ladies every chance I get.  But to show you I trust you as much
as Lydia does, I'm going to give you her home address as she requested. 
She expects you there by 6:15.  I think she plans to make you meet her
housemates.  She shares the place with two other young women.  One, like
Lydia, is a student at the U, the other is a pediatrician specializing in
babies of drug mothers and abandoned children."

   "Oh, and Nick, I think we should have lunch one day next week.  "Off the
clock", of course.  Lydia tells me you're looking pretty good, and I
haven't had the pleasure to just meet you socially.  I'll call you and try
to find a good time for us both.  Ciao, Nick."

   Well, that was interesting, Nick thought.  Not that lunch wouldn't be a
pleasure with a woman like Cyan, but he wondered what Lydia had been
telling her.  Oh well, he wasn't going to stress.  Hell, there wasn't much
he'd ever really stressed over anyway.  He looked at the time though, and
decided he'd better go shower.

   He was pulling up to an older, fairly large house in the Avenues at
6:10. He figured a little early was always better than late.  He fidgeted
slightly with his tux as he climbed out of the Jag; he was going to have to
go get it altered again.  He hadn't lost that much weight, but what was
left had re-distributed from around his gut to his shoulders and back,
making the coat rather tight.

   He knocked on the door, and was greeted by a small girl nearly the same
age as his brother's son.  Well, not greeted; she opened the door and
looked up at him, not moving to let him, but not quite inclined to shut the
door on him.  He gave her his best smile and said, "Hello, is Lydia here?"

   He didn't think he was going to get an answer, then heard footsteps
coming down the hall and a woman noticeably older than Lydia opened the
door fully.  "Alicia, if you answer the door, find out who it is, and let
them in.  Now, go watch Blue with Dina."

   The girl turned and ran off, calling "Blue clue!"

   "I'm sorry, can I help you?" She looked him up and down curiously.  He
didn't have the look of social services, although he was old enough.  But
they didn't generally show up in tuxes either.

   "Yes, hello, is Lydia here?"

   He had a nice voice though.  Then what he'd said seeped through her
distraction.  "Oh, of course, you must be Nick.  I'm sorry, she didn't tell
us you were..." she bit her tongue, not wanting to say 'old enough to be
her dad'.  "Please come in, I think she's nearly ready.  I'm AnnaBeth
Lucen, one of her housemates.  You met Alicia.  She's one of my foster
kids."

   She led him down the hall to the living room.  "Please, have a seat, can
I get you something to drink?"

   "No, thank you," He answered with a smile.

   Anna stood there for a moment, wondering if she should just abandon
Lydia's date, try to make small talk or what when the front door banged and
a voice called out: "Wow!  Did you see the car parked out front?  Who do we
know around here that has a Jag!?" An attractive young East Indian woman
entering the room followed the voice.

   "Dierdra, this is Nick, Lydia's date.  I'd guess it's his car." He could
hear the laughter in Anna's voice as she said it.

   Dierdra looked at him in surprise.  Damn, tuxedo and a sweet car.  But
he's old.  Well, maybe not old, she thought as she studied him.  Older. 
But with potential.

   Then Lydia entered the room and caught his full attention.  Dierdra's
next thought was 'Damn, I wish my dates looked at me like that!'

   Lydia had on an embroidered white blouse that complimented her small
breasts magnificently, and a forest green split skirt that showed a lot of
her long tan legs.  Three-inch heels completed the ensemble.

   Lydia introduced her housemates.  "Nick Essex, this is Dierdra Gans, one
of my housemates and my study partner for Mathematics and Chemistry.  She's
a whiz at both, and I help her with her Arts and Language classes.  And
this is AnnaBeth Lucen, Doctor of Pediatric Medicine and Substance Abuse.
She keeps us sane by bringing home her patients on the weekends." Lydia was
grinning as she said that and Dr.  Lucen blew her a raspberry in return.

   "So, Mr.  Essex, where are you taking our Lydia, all dressed up like
that?" Anna asked.

   "Shriner's Hospital is having their annual Silver Gala fundraiser
tonight."

   AnnaBeth's eyebrows rose slightly.  "Isn't that by invitation?" She knew
it was, but she'd already arranged for the release of Alicia and Dina this
weekend when her invitation came.

   "Yes, I believe it is."

   Leave it to Dierdra to be blunt and ask the question they wanted
answered.  "And what do you do for a living, Mr.  Essex?" AnnaBeth and
Lydia both winced visibly at the question.

   "I spend my good fortune, Miss Gans.  For fun, I travel and learn to
fly. And to keep karma on my side, I give large gifts to favored
charities." The smile he gave her made it clear he wasn't offended by her
question.  "And speaking of charities, we should be going." He looped his
arm in Lydia's and walked her to his car, then they were off.

   "I apologize for Dierdra, she shouldn't have been nosy like that."

   "That's ok, it's not like it isn't public knowledge if you look for it.
I won the Powerball July of 2005.  Almost 140 million.  I took it in yearly
payments."

   She was silent for a moment, trying to figure out what that actually
came to.  "That would be...."

   "A little more than two million a year after taxes." Nick answered.

   "My goodness.  With that kind of money you could date supermodels!  What
are you doing hanging around with me?"

   "First, I've met a few supermodels.  Supercilious bitches for the most
part, or completely bubble headed.  Neither one can I stand.  I hang around
with you, and Connie and Jeanvieve, because you are all very intelligent,
very pretty and most important, very very nice people.  And I have to
admit, you make me hot and bothered.  " He grinned at her as he said that.

   She slugged him in the arm.  "Typical man." He just laughed.

   Dinner was good, they danced a bit, but had the most fun at the
'Casino'. Nick bought them both ten thousand dollars worth of 'chips', and
they had a riot trying to see who could loose their stack first.  Karma
seemed to have other ideas, though, because they both won much more often
they lost, and finally had to go all out, betting their piles on "double
zero" on the roulette table before they left.

   As they sat in the car, he turned to her.  "I'd like to take you home
with me tonight.  May I?"

   She leaned toward him and gave him the first of the many lover's kisses
they would come to share.  "Yes, please, I'd like that very much."

   As the garage door closed behind them, Nick walked around to open the
car door for Lydia.  Sometimes she thought it was foolish of her to sit
there and wait for him, when she was perfectly capable of pulling the
handle and pushing the door open.  But then she'd remember the pure joy of
having him offer his hand to her, helping her out of the car like a true
gentleman.  And the way he did it, as if it was the most natural thing in
the world.  She hoped he'd never forget to do it for her.

   Then he was holding the door to his home for her.  She'd been here once
before, the morning Terrence had ruined for them all.  She wondered if
she'd see more of the house this time, then decided it wouldn't be until
much later this morning.  "Nick, take me to your bedroom.  Everything else
will wait."

   His eyes were bright with desire, desire she knew hers reflected, and he
took her hand and led her down the hall she remembered to the last bedroom,
his bedroom.  She did excuse herself for a moment, slipping into the bath
to take care of 'maintenance'.

   When she came out, the coverlet was pulled down, as well as the top
sheet and blanket.  The lights were set at about half brightness, light
enough to reveal, but shadowed enough to be sensual.  He stood at the
bottom of the bed, fully dressed except for his shoes.  She smiled at him
when she noticed this.  "Habit," he admitted.  "They come off when I get
home."

   She walked up to him and kissed him again.  "Habit can be good." She
moved behind him and reached around him to unbutton the coat of his tux,
and then slid it off, laying it across a chair she suspected was only there
for the purpose of holding discarded clothes.  Still behind him, she undid
the vest, placing it with the coat.  The tie unsnapped, and she smiled; a
certain indicator of a single male of the species.  Then she wrapped her
arms around him and ran her hands along his torso as she leaned her face
against his back.

   She admitted to herself that she was delighted in the change in him from
that night in the hospital.  He still had a ways to go, but his physique
was now closer to Brian Dennehy's than Charles Durning.  She knew she was
going to enjoy improving him even more.  She undid the buttons of his shirt
slowly, letting her arms press against his nipples, pleased to find them
responsive, then she tugged his shirt out of his trousers before coming
around to face him.  "Take off your shirt while I take care of these."

   She then knelt and unbuckled his belt, then unbuttoned his trousers. 
She slowly drew the zipper down, listening to his breath catch as she did
so, then took hold of his waistband and slowly drew his trousers down
around his knees.  "Put your hand on my shoulder, and lift your foot." He
obeyed, and she pulled the left leg down and off, then caught his leg
before he set his foot down.  "Sock" He waited as she pulled it off too. 
"Other shoulder, other leg." Within moments, he stood before her in only
his plain white briefs.  She smiled to herself and thought, "More wardrobe
changes coming."

   Then she stood up and faced him.  "Your turn.

   He took a moment to circle her, finding her fastenings and taking a
moment to caress the back of her bare neck with his lips.  Her blouse was
closed with a series of lacings and bows down her back, so he drew her
against his chest as he carefully untied and unlaced each string.  He could
feel her smile against his skin and her breath as it stirred his meager
chest hair.  He was especially pleased when she breathed deeply and offered
an approving sound to his cologne.

   He opened her blouse gently, then stepped away from her, drawing it down
her arms and away from her lovely body.  He laid it on top of his trousers
on the chair and reached for the clasp of her very sensuous, lacy
brassiere. "Um, skirt first, sweet Nicolas."

   "Yes Mistress Lydia," he said, half teasing.  He knelt slowly before
her, leaning close so he could caress a line of soft kisses from the base
of her throat, between her breasts and down her belly before his knees
touched the floor.  His tongue lightly caressed her navel as he reached
around her and unhooked her skirt then drew the short zipper along her hip.
He caught it and carefully pooled it around her ankles, noting with delight
she wore a garter and stalkings rather than pantyhose.  He realized
suddenly why he hadn't noticed; he had admired her legs, but he was still
in gentleman mode, and never thought to so much as touch her knee while
they sat together.

   She smiled down at the top of his head, following his thoughts with
ease. Good, maybe he'd start acting more like a lover when they were out
now.  The gentleman had been good, but she was looking forward to more.  As
long as he continued to remembered the doors, and holding her chair for
her. She placed her hand on his shoulder and carefully stepped outside the
ring of her skirt, then did the same with the other foot.  And smiled as he
picked up her skirt, and still kneeling folded it carefully before setting
it on her blouse.

   She caught his hands and drew him to his feet, and walking backwards,
drew him toward the bed.  When the back of her knees hit the edge, she sat
and scooted gracefully to the center of the bed, then offered him her right
foot as she lay back.  He smiled and unbuckled it and sensually drew it off
her foot.  With a smile, she touched the top of the stocking and garter on
that leg, indicating his next duty.

   He carefully unhooked the eye and loop of her garter, and slowly rolled
her stocking down her leg and off her foot.  Then she sighed with delight
as he caressed the arch of her foot with his lips before setting it gently
on the bed.  She raised her left foot for the same treatment, and then she
lay before him in only matching brassiere and low cut panties.

   "Take off my bra."

   "Yes, Mistress Lydia." He carefully unlatched the front-opening hook,
and drew the cups away from her small but delightful curves, and the points
that accented them.  She lifted up so he could draw the fabric from beneath
her and set it on chair.

   "Now, come stand here in front of me." He stood on the bed, his hand
pressed to the ceiling to keep his balance.  With a smile, she kissed along
the swell inside his briefs, then slowly and carefully drew them off his
hips and buttocks till they circled his ankles and the object of her
pleased gaze stood proud and exposed.

   She cupped his balls lightly and let her tongue glide lightly along his
shaft.  "Nick, have I told you how perfect I think your cock is?  It's like
it's been made just for me.  And tonight, you are going to put it where it
belongs for the first time.  Now, it's time you uncovered the sheath for
your sword." She lay back on the bed, letting her fingers trace his length
as she stretched out on the bed.

   Nick knelt beside her and hooked his fingers in the waistband of her
panties, and slowly drew them down her legs and off her beautiful feet.  He
tossed them neatly on the pile of clothing.  Then he laid down beside her
and began to kiss her.

   He kissed her slowly, sensually, lingeringly, and as he kissed her, his
hand caressed her, cheek and hair, neck and shoulder, rib and breast and
belly to hip.  Then his lips followed his hands until they caressed the
tops of her thighs and the neatly trimmed patch of hair on her pubis. 
Moaning softly, she spread her legs to his demanding caress, then shivered
with pleasure as his lips and mouth explored and savored her divinity.

   She came shudderingly when his tongue caressed the small button of her
clit , then came vocally when he took it into his mouth and sucked upon it
like a third nipple.

   And when he entered her slowly she whimpered her delight and matched
each thrust and stroke he offered with one of her own.  And when his
offering coated her vagina, she bit him softly.

   And when, a bit later, he drew her down on top of him, she rode him at
her leisure, sometimes letting him caress her button, but mostly enjoying
the loving grasp of his hands on her waist as she moved, until they crested
together and fell asleep in each others arms.