Lady luck – part 2

I’d been sidelined and timed out before Chloe came into my life. Just about ready to head for the backwoods and become a certified hermit. Until I suddenly found out that instead of being all alone in the world I had myself a best friend, a business partner and the girl of my dreams, all wrapped up in one beautiful little package. And the way I figured it, if I was lucky enough to have somebody like Chloe literally fall into my lap out of nowhere, then maybe I lucky enough to turn my business problems around.

Whatever, it sure wouldn’t be for want of trying. So I started hustling again while she stayed back at the apartment picking up the treads of what I’d been trying to achieve before my train fell off the tracks. What surprised me was that Chloe stopped me from taking down some pretty raunchy photos of my ex-girl friend I was using as screen savers. I didn’t argue but those images were going as soon as I had a chance to get my hands on the keyboards — the last thing I needed was to be reminded of a mercenary little bitch who’d taken off as soon as the debt collectors had started phoning.

It’s an odd thing about luck: how it seems to run in patterns. That’s the way it is in my life anyway. Not good and bad and good and bad, but more like a tide. Once things start to go wrong they seem to keep on turning sour until you’re stuck down in the mud and hanging onto the jetty to stop from tipping over. And then maybe the moon changes or the stars line up or something and water starts flowing back underneath your keel. It was like that this morning; things went much better than I expected they would and I wanted to tell Chloe about it as soon as possible. About how I’d seen Bob Hanson down at the bank and how it looked as if they might give me a second bite at the cherry. Provided I could get somebody else involved in the business, somebody with a proven record in sound business administration.

Chloe listened to what I was saying and asked some questions. Sharp ones as well, right to the point. It occurred to me that I’d never actually gotten around to asking her what she did for a living. Maybe that sounds weird but I’d only known her for a day and a night — and boy, what a night! It’s a strange story but I’ve already told it, so I won’t rehash it again. Anyway, I ended up giving her the names of the business types I knew well enough to speak to and who had reputations solid enough to keep the bank from dropping me in the financial garbage disposer. There were four on the list and either I got one of them to commit to my company or the fat lady was going to start singing.

“OK, Rand, so give me those names again, will you?”

“Sure: Ray Rice, Piet Schmued, Ken Tank and Ed Johnson. Anyone of them would do fine. The problem is that all of them are already making piles of cash with the companies they’ve already built up. I think I’ve got a marketing concept which is absolutely fantastic but I need more start up money to prove it, and I don’t get the money without one of those names on the company letterheads.”

“But if you’ve got it right the one who joins us will become very seriously rich?”

“That’s right, honey, we all will. But that’s an act of faith right now.”

“Well, Rand, it sounds to me like we’re going to have to seduce one of them.”

“What! What do you mean, us?”

“I’m sorry, darling, I’m getting all mixed up. What I meant to say was that one of us is probably going to have to seduce one of them into helping us out. After all, if we can’t offer them any money and our stock options are only blue-sky, then sex is the only thing we’ve got left to bargain with.”

I could just imagine the way she was smiling as she was talking to me but I had no idea as to whether she was being serious or not. So I asked her exactly that.

“Rand, of course I’m being serious. This is all about saving your business, isn’t it? You don’t think I’d joke about something like that, do you?”

“But, baby … ”

“I mean, the only question is whose going to head up your company PR department? And unless one of your targets is gay and you’ve got some sexual orientation I’d be surprised to hear about, then I guess I’m the logical choice.”

“My PR department?”

“As in pubic relationships, Randy. Or do you have somebody better qualified in mind for the position? After all, you’re the boss, and I only do what I’m told — remember?”

“Remember? I still can’t believe that you put your tongue where you did when I told you to. But would you — like, with another guy — for me — I mean, for us?”

Her voice became huskier: “I’d be under the ground if it wasn’t for you Rand, and I like to pay my debts. But what about these guys? Are any of them hunky and spunky?”

I gulped and wished I could say they were all hopelessly ugly nerds. But Chloe was right, I needed to play every card in the pack and right now she was my only ace.

“Piet Schmued,” I answered reluctantly. “He’s a big guy, played football at college, handsome as hell, always scored big time with the chicks. But he’s married now.”

“That’s OK, I’m not going to steal him. I might put some wear and tear on him, but I won’t steal him.”

“You think you can get him to sign up with us?”

She giggled, deep in her throat: “Well, Rand, I’m ready to give it my best shot. To tell the truth, I’m thinking really deeply about what you’ve told me and it seems like I’m going to have to do something for myself to calm down again. Unless maybe you’d like to come back here to the office as fast as you can and show me again what a hard boss you can be to work for.”

“Chloe, lover, the next thing you’re going to hear is the sound of sirens following me through the red lights.”

I dropped the cell and revved up the engine in the same second. Mid morning, the traffic about as good as it ever got and I guess I set my own personal best time for a standing start from the CBD to the apartment block. It was like that joke about the guy on viagra who quit work and went home every time he got a hard on, just so it wouldn’t be wasted. I didn’t exactly know why the idea of Chloe taking on Piet for my sake had me so turned on but the images in my mind were hitting every horny alert button on the entire flight deck.

As soon as I got into the hall I damned nearly hung my laptop on the hook and put my keys on the table before I realised what I was doing. Then I opened the study door, saw Chloe working on one of the ‘puters and crept up behind her for a fast hug.

She looked up at me, smiling primly: “I’m sorry but the boss isn’t here right now and we don’t see salesmen without an appointment. Can it wait until next week?”

I slipped my hand lower: “Gee, Ms Dooferatickle, I was really hoping I could make some kind of contact today in your organisation. How about down here, you think maybe I could introduce myself a little down here?”

“Hey, I’d like to help you, Mr Donkeydick, but I don’t know if I should. My boss does some awful things to me if I screw up.”

“Now you mention it, Ms, how are you at screwing?”

“Well, I always do my best for the boss, of course. But it’s kind of difficult to know how I’m doing — he never says much, he just grunts a lot and then goes to sleep.”

“Then it’s a good thing I called round. Forget those boring old lays. What you need Ms Doofertickle is exactly what I’m selling.”

“Really? What are you selling?”

“Fucks. I sell fucks. Long ones, short ones, big ones, small ones, simple ones, complicated ones, group ones, on the top of a desk fucks, all the way up to Desert Island castaway fucks. Why, I even sell McFucks with giveaway plastic pricks to take home to the kids. And each and every one of them is guaranteed as a genuine, one hundred per cent, rubber burning, come like a freight train down a mountain, screaming, lung busting, satisfies all the way, totally orgasmic fuck.”

Chloe tittered like a schoolgirl and wriggled in her chair. “Wow, they sound like they might be real fun. It surely seems more interesting than selling insurance. But I don’t think I could afford to buy anything as good as you’re talking about.”

“Why, Miss, this is a real lucky time for us to meet because I’m able to offer you a special introductory price fuck at far below the normal retail price. All you have to do is to agree to take part in a customer survey we’re conducting.”

“Oh — what would I have to do?”

“It’s nothing at all. The only thing that happens is that I undo your top like this and kind of slip my hand in here. Pretty soon I’ll know whether you’re in the market for one of our special offer fucks. Not only that, but I’ll know exactly which one is the right one for you right now. Why, I’ll even promise to refund your money if I’m not completely satisfied after I’ve fucked you.”

Chloe giggled again: “That sounds very fair, but you must surely have an educated hand there, Mr Donkeydick. Can you really tell all that about me with it?”

“Of course I can. We have lots of special training to find out these things. By the way, what’s your first name, Ms Dooferatickle?”

“Well, it’s supposed to be Diane, but all my friends call me Desperate. Desperate Lee Dooferatickle.”

I had to break off with a fit of laughter I couldn’t hold back any longer. But Chloe never even twitched her lips; when she wanted to she could be as stone faced as Buster Keaton.

“Excuse me, Mr Donkeydick, but do you think I could try out this hand thing as well? I’d like to see what I can find out.”

“Well, I guess you can try. Sure, go ahead.”

“Hmmm … well, I know I haven’t any training but I think you might be ready for a fuck as well, Dicky boy.”

“You’ve felt one of these before then, Desperate?”

“Oh yes, we’ve had one running wild around the office for a long time. It belongs to the Boss but somehow his doesn’t seem to measure up to what you’re offering, Mr Donkeydick.”

“What about a test drive, Ms Doofer? Just around the block a couple of times?”

“Gee, I’d love to but I hope you don’t charge by the inch because I’d need a heck of a time to pay.”

“Oh no, it’s a flat charge. One fee covers all sizes — but I’ll have to finish my customer survey before I can give you an exact price.”

“With that very clever hand of yours again?”

I nodded: “Yep, that’s right, Ms. Only this time I have to put it up your skirt to finish covering all the ground. Is that cool with you?”

“Er … no. I’m starting to get hot instead of cool — does that matter?

“No, Ms Doofer, not at all. You just sit here on my lap and we’ll see how you stack up against the average customer.”

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