Loading...CHAPTER 1
Twice divorced with continuing strong interest in working and male company, Lillian Smith, who’d once again reverted to her maiden name, made her seventh application for a new job and secured a position as personal assistant to the female operations manager of a courier company.
The two women settled in together fine, both being the same age of fifty-two, and with similar interests except manager Marion had been married to the same man for twenty-seven years and had warned her new recruit she didn’t talk about her husband or home life.
Lillian had welcomed this job because eighteen of the twenty-one drivers were male and it was company policy not to employ drivers under the age of thirty.
Lillian had asked why was the minimum age for drivers set at thirty rather than say twenty and Marion said older men tended to stay with the company longer and in the company’s experience over many years it had been found more mature drivers had far fewer motor accidents in the company’s service than younger drivers, especially those in their early twenties. When shown those statistics, she’d set the minimum age although age was never given as a reason for turning down anyone seeking a position as a driver for Southwest Couriers.
“Are any of the drivers likely to be interest in me?” Lillian asked.
“Well I couldn’t be sure but it’s possible because at least of dozen of them appear to have four interests that are, in no particular order, drinking, eating, sport and chasing after women.”
“I should think that order is the correct order.”
Marion said, “And I suppose you’ve had the experience to know that?”
“Yes, two marriages and twenty-one affairs have taught me a thing or two.”
Marion swallowed. “How many affairs did you mean to say?”
“Twenty-one. I keep a diary.”
“How could you manage to fit all those into your life?”
“Oh I worked at it. It was not a burden, I assure you. When you do something well and enjoy what you are doing time passes and satisfaction manifests itself.”
“You mean you enjoy sex?”
“Oooh yes.”
Not convinced, Marion looked closely at her assistant, “Are you sure?”
“It’s better than doing the washing, going to church or working, I can assure you of that Marion.”
“A woman who enjoys sex? You are a remarkable woman Lillian. All the women who’ve ever talked to me about sex, including my daughters and way back my mother, did nothing but complain about their sex life.”
“I suppose if you don’t like what you do it’s easy not to like what you’re doing,” Lillian philosophized.
Marion laughed and gave Lillian more work and looked at the departing woman still sporting a reasonable figure — well there were well-defined shapes — and who had her long hair dyed in three shades of blonde.
On a Friday morning when exchanging morning greetings, Marion said, “I’d like to take you to lunch today as a gesture of friendship to mark our congenial relationship aged thirty days old today and perhaps to learn something from you. I’ll tell you more over lunch if you care to accept my invitation.”
“Yes, I do accept you offer Marion and promise to talk about any subject you wish that I’m familiar with.”
“Oh I don’t think you’ll be uninformed or misinformed about the subject I have in mind.”
That mystified Lillian. Perhaps Marion wanted to know how Marion could work more efficiently?
But no. Over lunch Marion confided she rarely talked to other people about sex but something Lillian had said had gotten her thinking about its application to sex. “You said if you don’t like what you do its easy not to like what you do. Initially I thought it was a silly statement but the more I thought about it the more profound it appeared to be.”
“Are you not enjoying sex Marion?”
“I was attempting to avoid referring to having sex with Bruce.”
“I didn’t name who you were not enjoying sex with. It could be with anyone.”
Marion flushed and blurted certainly not with her. She had not had sex with anyone else since the first date with Bruce.”
“God Marion, you set the pace in having sex on the first date.”
Marion turned crimson. “No, I meant I’ve not had sex with anyone else in all the time I’ve been with Bruce since we first dated. We actually didn’t have sex until the third night after the wedding and please don’t ask me about whether a sex life existed before I met Bruce.”
“That’s fine. What do you want to know from me Marion?”
“Well first, how many times a month do you prefer having sex?”
“My dream had been twice a night so that’s sixty-plus times a month but I must admit rarely achieving that target.”
“Oh you poor dear. Please excuse me for asking this and don’t answer unless you wish, but when did you last have sex? I recall you saying your divorce came through three months ago.”
“Two nights ago.”
“What, you’ve found a guy in this city so soon after your arrival?”
“Yes, well more than one actually. I’ve been to bed with three of our drivers, um each a on a different occasion of course.”
“Ohmigod. Is our workplace that promiscuous?”
“I wouldn’t know. I don’t pry into what other people do in their own time and you are the only person who has admitted to me as having had sex.”
“Well that was obliquely.”
“Oooh, I haven’t heard of that position.”
They laughed.
“Tell me, what do I have to do to enjoy sex? There, I’ve said it.”
“Well the first thing is to love your body. Do you love your body Marion?”
“I suppose so, though I’m not keen about the shape I’m growing into.”
“Do you finger your orifices?”
“Ohmigod Lillian, you can’t talk to me like that.”
“Suck my finger.”
“No, take it away. Ohmigod, I can’t be seen doing that in a restaurant and anyway how do I know it’s clean?”
“That was part of the point of this exercise Marion. My next question after you sucked my finger — hopefully in a sexy manner — would have been to ask what had you learned about your physical and emotional feelings gained from sucking another woman’s finger? Sadly, what Dr Lillian Smith has to tell you ma’am is she’s had sufficient feedback to suggest you cannot really enjoy sex because you’re so uptight about it.”
Marion placed a hand above her breasts and said mournfully well that meant she was doomed to never experience the so-called joy of sex.”
“Oh Marion why?”
“Because I find it messy and degrading and therefore disgusting but it was the vehicle that has given us a son and two daughters.”
“So the truth is you have turned your back on sex, er, I’ll rephrase that. You have retired from sex?”
“Well no, I’ve found that impossible. A couple of times a month Bruce taps me on the hip, half awakening me. I automatically roll on to my back and away he goes, grunting into it. I can tell you it’s really difficult to slip back into sleep when a man is doing that to you. I have tried wearing three pair of panties to bed and even sleeping in the guest room around the time when I suspect Bruce will want to rut, but he deals with those challenges with ease. I wish he’d use that same expertise in keeping the house tidy and fighting the “never-ending curse of garden weeds.”
Marion then had her most enlightening moments over lunch. She sighed and asked, “What is it about sex you like?”
They returned to work both declaring it had been a lovely lunch. As they put away their handbags Marion asked, “You haven’t suggested what I should do about Bruce in his twice-monthly revolting insertions.”
“My advice is to allow him to continue. It’s ingrained in men to want to do it and they automatically think if you cut the supply they are no longer liked.”
“But I do like Bruce.”
“Allow him to continue. His interest in it will wane within twenty years. Look on the bright side Marion — it’s only twice a month.”
Marion sighed. “Put that way Lillian it doesn’t sound too onerous. I don’t want Bruce leaving me for a younger woman.” She appraised her assistant, admiring Lillian’s make-up, her stylish dress sense and hair and breasts Lillian made no effort to hide, and indeed the opposite could be said. “Or someone like you.”
Lillian laughed. “Just to keep you relaxed Marion, I promise here and now I’ll never go to bed with any man called Bruce.” Or called Archie, Owen or Edgar she thought, thinking of other male names that tended to switch her off.
Marion spent the next hour between interruptions looking at the list of drivers to work out which of those horrid drivers had pressed her assistant for sex. She removed the three women and the married drivers and smiled triumphantly when left with the names of five unmarried men, two of whom she suspected with gay because they lived together.
“Oh Lillian, which of our three drivers have had sex with you? I’m just interested. Nothing will happen to them.”
“Sorry Marion. It was after hours and therefore of no concern to you.”
Looking at her list Marion said, “I believe they were Guy, Lenny and Mark.”
“Marion,” Lillian said patiently. “I’ll tell you this; my answer is no. Lenny virtually doesn’t wash or shave regularly, Mark has facial skin eruptions and I think Guy wouldn’t be capable of sustaining an erection. He’s a hypochondriac.”
“But Archer and Oliver are… well… um…”
“Gay? I would think so.”
Marion’s mouth fell open. “But that leaves only the married men?”
“And our three lady drivers. Why leave out the females?”
“Because they… Ohmigod.”
“As it happens Marion, you may eliminate Patsy, Claire and Liz but that’s all I have to say to allow you to identify those guys who left my side apparently very happy.”
“But married men; that’s adultery?”
“Yes I understand that’s what it’s called but I simply consider them as eager bucks, who are courteous and willing to please me no end in return for me performing expertly for them. Wake up Marion. It’s what all men want and you know that.”
“I suppose I do,” Marion said weakly. “But why do they do it?”
“Fresh pastures to graze in, the desire for a memorable fuck. Who knows? I’ve never asked. If you are really interested to know Marion, ask. We get our twenty-one drivers through this office a minimum of twice a day. Do it — you may enjoy the research and who knows? Because of your interest you may end up with some interesting offers.”
“Ohmigod, I’m going out for some fresh air.”
That was the last time the two women discussed sex together for a while. Marion appeared to become frigid and began watching her assistant very closely. Gradually she realized that Lillian could be having sex with all twenty-one drivers, but not at the same time of course. She was just so sexy with them at the counter when they called in. They all loved her and when the efficiency of the system increased and complaints against drivers fell away the boss gave Marion a bonus of two thousand bucks. She knew the bonus belonged to Lillian and asked the financial controller to destroy the check and reissue two cash checks for $1000 and gave one to Lillian, saying it was a clothing allowance.
Marion bawled drivers out when bringing them in to discuss a complaint. But not Lillian. If she handled the complaint she’d asked the driver to explain and appear not to listen. She would then say, “Now please do not allow yourself to get into this situation again. I find it so distressful having to put you through this process but if it comes to having to let you go I’ll do that, make no mistake about that. Now off you go and enjoy the rest of your day.”
Like clockwork after Lillian had deal with a complaint, when she and Marion arrived the next morning there would be flowers or a box of chocolate on Lillian’s desk. Marion could only wonder what this woman had that she didn’t.
* * *
Lillian took a call one evening. “Hi it’s Jake.”
“Oh hi Jake. Are you in trouble or is this just social?”
“Um social,” was the nervous response from the big guy.
“You wish to meet me somewhere for a drink?”
“Oh yeah. Thanks for making it easy for me. How about tomorrow at 7:00, meeting at Antonio’s for dinner.”
“That would be lovely. Are you able to stay out late?”
“Sure, Bette is staying with a friend for a couple of nights.”
“Well that’s a lovely invitation Jake and I look forward to it. Call if you can’t make it. Over and out.”
Jake put down his phone and wiped his forehead. Harry, who’d told him about Lillian over a beer, had said there was no pretence about her. The word Harry used had been ‘upfront’ and that phone call had proved the accuracy of that comment. Jake had been married eight years and Jenny was four months pregnant at last and was so nervous about ensuring a safe delivery the only sex he was receiving was oral or a hand job. It was something but Jake felt he was addicted to pussy and had been so since his late teens.
Harry had said when Jake moaned about the sex drought if it was Jake’s first time at breaking out in eight years he must go top shelf.
“You mean Lucy’s Brothel?”
“No, I mean….” and Harry had whispered the name.
“Are you sure?”
The way Harry grinned Jake knew his friend was sure.
“How much — I can afford four hundred.”
“A couple of drinks and something she calls ‘Pleasant pre-coital chat.”
“Pre-coital chat? You mean happy talk over drinks before you do it?”
Harry said, “Yeah, that’s the one buddy.”
“Then if she’s so good why doesn’t she charge professional rates?”
“Lillian allows you two strikes and then you’re history.”
Jake considered that. “You mean in twice and then go home?”
“No, you’ll only get the chance to do who on one or two occasions. She doesn’t charge because I reckon she just likes having sex.”
“What? An older women who enjoys sex instead of complaining about the mess and the guy being too heavy?”
Harry’s eyes twinkled. “Yeah Jake. We didn’t know they existed, did we?”
They laughed and Harry said Lillian appeared to want only casual sex at the moment. “I assume any more than two nights means the risk of a relationship developing. She’s still mad as her last husband dumping her complaint she was too sexually active.”
“We didn’t know such women existed,” Jake laughed, elbowing his pal in the ribs.
Jake was sitting at the bar dressed in his best when Lillian arrived, dressed in tight white with a long red necklace and her hair rolled behind her head and in really high heels. He was astonished at the number of people who turned to look at her, including young guys, In fact the young guys and young women stared the longest. What was this? Lillian was at least fifty!
At thirty-eight, Jake was able to jump athletically off the chair and hug and kiss Lillian as if she were his mother.
“They won’t know you are going to fuck me Jake. Give me a proper kiss please.”
Jake was still holding her so kissed the puckered lips. She pressed into him and kissed him back and the primeval urge raced through Jake.
“You kiss swell,” he said, waiting for Lillian to be seated.
“It would be nothing without your warm and succulent lips providing the other half Jake.”
“Er thank you Lillian. Name you choice of cocktail.”
Any thought in Jake’s mind that Lillian was a whore was dispelled when they entered her small and neat apartment and they kissed and she unzipped him and pulled out his dick and then paused, looking up at him. “Are you sure you want to be with me like this Jake?”
“Suck it Lillian… please,” he choked. Since his late teens numerous women had performed fellatio on Jake, some very expertly including his much older sister regarded as one of the hottest chicks in the neighborhood. Eyes closed as he dug his hands into Lillian’s hair, only then realizing it was pined back in a roll to keep her hair out of her eyes when doing what she was doing right now, Jake was practically gurgling and decided without doubt Lillian was up there with the best of them.
He shot, repeatedly and there was virtually nothing for her to wipe away from her mouth.
“How was that?” she asked, dropping her skirt and panties.
“Adorable. You have a heavenly touch.”
She giggled and lay back in a voluptuous chair, legs over both arms. “Go to it young man. Please excuse the roll around my tummy. You must realize I’m no spring chicken.”
“You’re very okay. So I leave the stockings on garter belt on?”
“Please yourself.”
Without replying Jake dropped to his knees and attended to pussy. He burrowed away and finally had his face coated with a denser topping of liquid.
They then rutted. Jack was astonished at her staying power. It was approaching 3:00 when he left and she walked with him to the elevator, a robe over her shoulders. They kissed.
“You are much better at it than my wife.”
“Jake you should not say that about your wife or even think like that. Just acknowledge that some people are better at some things than others and that’s all there is to it. You may be surprised if you coached your wife kindly she may respond. Look into her eyes and smile when you attempt to instruct her and attempt to keep relaxed and not sound like you are giving orders.”
“I won’t be able to see into her eyes.”
“Why because you two only do it in the dark?”
“Yes, she was so shy about it when I first met her.”
“Well Jake if you want change you have to take the lead. Think it out and don’t rush it. Perhaps you could start by encouraging her to jerk you off on the sofa before dinner.”
“She’d have a fit.”
Lillian sighed. “I agree it has to be cooperative but if you work on the lead-up and exercise leadership incrementally you may a achieve the breakthrough but rush it or force it and there is a prospect of having a big row. Apply gentle encouragement with a touch of leadership Jake. You may have become overly sensitive about her sensitivity. Work on it as if it were a big project Jake, but move softly-softly. You may be surprised at what you achieve.”
“She’s pregnant and anxious.”
“Oh I see and that’s why you are here; her legs are closed?”
“Well that adds tension but doesn’t prevent being jerked off on the sofa. Go extra softly, softly. In the meantime you may arrange to visit me here once a fortnight if that’s your wish. It will keep pressure off your pregnant wife.”
Three days later Jake entered the office with a huge bouquet and a huge box of chocolate. In handing it across to Lillian he winked and she told Jake she was ever so pleased for him.
When Lillian was dividing the flowers and chocolates to share with Marion, her boss asked, “Am I allowed to enquire what this is about? Something tells me there’s an interesting story behind this.”
“There is Marion but it’s confidential. All I can say it’s about marital counseling. Jake has not told me but I can say he’s made a breakthrough at home that required him to act very loving and showing extra sensitivity.”
“Is it serious for Jake,” Marion wormed.
Lillian shook her head. “Jake’s wife was holding out on him. She’s pregnant so will be difficult. I’ve managed to motivate Jake into making the right moves and it appears to have been successful.”
“You are a wonder my dear. I only wish I could listen to you and do the right thing.”
Lillian held out a turned up middle figure. “Slowly suck this Marion and then tell me what you think and feel.”
“God you are disgusting,” Marion giggled. “I understand what it’s about but I cannot do it. I’m prim beyond belief.”
“Have you ever sucked a penis?”
“God no.”
“Well that’s prudish but on the other hand penis-sucking is not without some risk and not everyone sees it as a wholesome activity. It’s a choice, not a crime.”
They laughed and Marion said, “You put an amazing slant on sexual relations.”
“Going back to something you’ve just said Marion, have you ever before openly admitted your are prim beyond belief?”
“No I haven’t and do believe I’ve ever thought of it quite like that. Are you suggesting there’s still hope for me?”
They laughed and Lillian said she could work no further on Marion to avoid being accused of corrupting her but of course…”
“What, tell me.” Marion said, wide-eyed.
“It’s very personal.”
“What with you?”
Looking startled Lillian said, “No you fool, with your husband. Do you two have a bath together?”
“On occasions, after a few drinks but it’s been a while.”
“Bathe with him and ask does he want you to suck his… whatever name you have for it.”
Marion laughed nervously. “He could die of fright.”
“Well mess around a bit and ask him to get up an erection. Remember you don’t have to swallow the semen or even get that far with it in your mouth.”
“Lillian, please.”
“Okay but think about it.”
The next Monday morning Marion arrived with flowers, chocolates and a big but almost shy grin.
“For me?” Lillian said taking the gift. “There’s no need for Mrs Prude who under the outrageous influence of her assistant to acknowledge in this lovely way she has become a little bent.”
They exchanged knowing smiles above their loud laughter.
CHAPTER 2
Mr Driscoll acting as manager of Marion’s building containing thirty-nine apartments called asking if she could visit him at his office during working hours. Lillian knew her lease was good and her monthly payments were up to date and she had a clause guaranteeing no increase in rent within the first two years of the lease taking effect.
“No I’m sorry Mr Driscoll. Either we have this discussion you seek on the phone or you visit me mid morning Saturday for coffee.
“I’m a busy man.”
“This is the peak of our working day at my office Mr Driscoll. Goodbye.”
Lillian smiled at hearing the start of his protest as she cut the call. The hoary old toad could write if he didn’t wish to visit. She’d signed the lease in front of an attorney so had not met Mr Driscoll. For some reason Lillian was aware her heart rate had jumped slightly.
“Well I be damned,” she said aloud, Marion being out of the office. “The old coot might be interested in shafting me.” But then she thought of his other tenants, some much younger than Lillian and flaunting much better assets including looks, although the pick of the bunch might not be available to the likes of the Old Coot. She sighed thinking the building might have some sort of structural defect and it went through her apartment.
Lillian had forgotten Mr Driscoll and had on her oldest jeans with a rip in the ass and across one knee and a scarf tied over her head and was dry-mopping the entrance to her apartment, door open, when she heard behind her, “Ahem.”
She smiled at the good-looking guy in his mid fifties, aware she was devoid of make-up and wasn’t wearing a bra under her shirt. “Yes, may I help you?”
“I’m Alex Driscoll and you offered coffee or has that offer being withdrawn?”
Lillian gaped. “But I thought you’d be old and grumpy holding a calculator and a bunch of eviction notices.”
“Who told you that?” he scowled.
“Well at least I was correct about being grumpy.”
He grinned and said, “Well?”
“Oh god, you I did invite you for coffee but look at me.”
Mr Driscoll eye’s swept over Lillian, pausing longest at the jingling breasts as she wiped an arm across her forehead and said, “Not bad.”
Lillian felt her ears burning, a depth of embarrassment she’d not experienced in years. “Please come in Mr Driscoll. I’m sorry I’m so unprepared. Um time ran away on me.”
“It’s Miss Smith rather than Mrs Smith isn’t it?” he asked, passing her and looking around. “You keep a tight ship.”
“I’ve been divorced twice Mr Driscoll but have reverted to my single name pending captivating my next successful suitor.”
“What you expect to remarry at your age going around dressed like that?”
“Discerning gentlemen see beyond clothes and makeup.”
He grinned and took the mop while she said put it in the broom cupboard while she went and changed.
“No stay dressed like that. I like seeing them wobble.”
“Mr Driscoll!”
“Miss Smith!”
She came off her high horse and said charmingly, “Please call me Lillian. I have baked a cake. Would you like a piece?”
“Home cooking?” he said, appearing astounded.
“How could I cook anything else?”
He smiled and said it was just… and tailed off.
She said just what and he looked embarrassed.
“So you don’t have much opportunity to eat home cooking.”
“Two or three times a month max.”
“Stay for lunch and I’ll cook you one of my favorites.”
Mr Driscoll licked his lips but faltered.
“Go on, take a risk; say yes.”
“Yes thank you.”
“Good but I’ll ask you to fetch me a piece of Swiss cheese from the deli opposite here. I’ll serve you Italian-style tomato macaroni.”
Mr Driscoll rolled his eyes and said reverently, “My mother used to serve us that often for Sunday lunch.”
“You know my mother did too. Now for coffee and orange cake.”
“Orange cake?”
“Yes and if you haven’t tried it before you may be taken by it or perhaps feel indifferent about it.”
Mr Driscoll ate two pieces of orange cake. Before they’d even started he’d invited Lillian to call him Alex.
Later Alex returned with a bottle of light red wine as well as a hearty slice of Swiss cheese.
“Oooh, you’re my kind of man,” Lillian cooed and noticed Alex bite his bottom lip when glancing at her. Lillian had done a quick change while he went to the deli and now was more confident and felt like a piece of Alex but she had to be patient. Probably he’d be old school.
Before lunch Alex took Lillian up to the smaller penthouse. It was very impressive.
“I’ve had this refurbished for my mother but she wants to remain in her home until it sells. I get calls all the time from people wishing to lease it. My thinking was to offer it to you to occupy temporarily but keeping this apartment.”
“But why me?”
“Because according to my attorney who recorded you as being well-dressed, mature and single, he believes you are likely to look after property if placed in care, unlike some of the younger people would.”
“Well I suppose I ought to be flattered. You will have management shift my possession up to here and then back again when the time comes?”
“Yes of course.”
“Um, about tonight.”
“Why Alex, haven’t you grown tired of me by now?”
He squirmed and muttered dinner, that he already had a table booked and a second placing could be added.
“For me? Oh Alex how kind. I believe I’m being treated as a lady but be confident that I cling to that notion.”
“Meaning?”
“That’s for you to find out.”
Alex wiped a hand twice across his jaw while attempting to deal with the concept just presented to him. She said she’d meet him at the restaurant, being smart enough that the impression she made on arriving could make significant favorable impact on her date.
As Lillian left the elevator she enquired, “Don’t I rate a kiss as a new acquaintance?”
“Don’t rush me into this Lillian.”
She smiled and said innocently, “Rush you into what?”
He smiled through the closing doors and said, “That’s for you to find out.”
Lillian had a good feeling about this and almost floated to her apartment. She’d wetted Alex’s interest and by that she meant sexually. She was certain she’d exceeded his expectations and by the end of their three and a half hours together his eyes rarely strayed from her face, breasts and legs. Tonight was her big chance — if she could impress Alex beyond the sex, if indeed it got to that, she’d be in with a chance of being dated regularly by him. Clearly the guy was lonely, so how many failed marriages had he chalked up?
Lillian placed a towel on the bed and lay over it with a pair of scissors. She had several hours to create herself into a middle-aged woman with heaps of open and half-hidden potential to generate a ‘must have’ feeling within Mr Alex Driscoll.
Right on 8:20, twenty minutes late, Lillian arrived to presumably end Alex’s frequent checks of his watch. The maitre d’ spotted her and almost broke into a run. Jewelry jangled as she reached up to straighten a couple of ringlets that didn’t need straightening, emphasizing her breasts pushed up and out by her favorite bustier. More and more people at tables turned to look and it was worth it. For a fifty-year-old she looked stunning with an artificial flower woven into her hair and the redder than red dress clung to every curve and black patterned stockings ran down to her red and black shoes with 6-inch heels.
“Last man standing,” she smiled to the maitre d’ who turned and saw one of his regulars Mr Driscoll smiling hugely and standing at attention.
“It is a pleasure to have you in our restaurant Mrs…”
“Miss Smith.”
And that catching the sniff she added, Miss Lillian Smith.”
“What of Southwest Couriers?”
“Yes and may I ask why have I gained notoriety?”
“I would almost say fame miss. Since you came on board at Southwest our complaints over almost every aspect of delivery have become negligible.”
“Thank you indeed. It was lovely you to tell me that.”
“Mr Driscoll, it has been my pleasure to deliver Miss Lillian to your table. I wish you both great dining.”
“Thank you Charles.”
“Yes, thank you Charles,” said Miss Lillian as he’d called her. “You are a credit to your calling.
“Please kiss me Alex. I don’t wish fellow diners to wrongly identify me as your daughter.”
Alex, grinning, hurried around to dot down on her lips.
“Oooh, the lips of a lover,” she whispered, and watched Alex practically swagger the six steps back to his chair.
They went to his apartment for coffee and he spent well over half an hour showing his guest his treasures — paintings, special edition books and his schoolboy stamp collection.
Lillian waited patiently. He’d do it when he was ready if doing it was on the agenda.
“I don’t see any photographs of wives and children?”
Alex led her to his study and there were photographs of three wives. The second Mrs Driscoll had borne him two children, now sixteen and seventeen and in her custody.
“You are not surprised I’ve been married and divorced three times?”
“No. It happens. Are you free to remarry?”
“Yes.”
Lillian remained silent although with a reply in mind. It was important he’d speak next.
“Why did you ask that?”
“Oh it’s of no consequence.”
“Lillian please answer me; your comment intrigues me.”
“Very well but remember you pressed me to answer. I fit the mould, perfectly.”
“Excuse me?”
“Look at the three photos. Don’t you see commonality?”
“I suppose so.”
“You suppose so. God you were married to them Alex. This is the first time I’ve laid eyes on their images and yet I see it.”
“Please tell me what you see.”
They all appear to be tall women, fair and strong boned with noticeable breasts and smiles suggesting reasonably pleasant personalities although that doesn’t suggest compatibility with you. But look at that inner smile Alex. These are sexy women, all three of them are engaged in attempting to seduce the camera.”
“You see that in them… I’m not saying you are incorrect?”
“Look at their total facial expressions but above all look at their eyes.”
“By god, you’re right. They have that sultry look just as I’ve already noticed with you.”
Alex scratched his head and said, “Look Lillian, let’s skip coffee for the moment and you join me in bed. What do you say to that?”
“It’s a big yes Alex but be warned: if you take me in med tonight I know I’ll become Mrs Driscoll the 4th.”
“Oh really? You are telling me something I don’t know about.”
* * *
Four months later Alex married Lillian at a small civic ceremony. Alex gave Lillian an apartment block as her wedding present and made her supervisor of his little empire of eight apartment blocks — nine including the administration of Lillian’s block — and that totaled 535 apartments