Win, Lose, or Tie

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Cover Art by Jinger Heaston

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Excerpt

STORY EXCERPT

Carol stood on the pavement and rechecked the address she'd written on a piece of paper. Yes, the number on the door said twenty-six. The Hampstead mews cottage had nothing to indicate it might be a house of ill-repute, but then what could one expect? Prostitutes don't have red lights over the door in England. She hesitated, questioning her decision in coming here. What if Kevin found out? After a few moments, she told herself she had nothing to lose.

The woman who opened the door didn't look like someone who earned her money entertaining men. Lacking makeup and dressed in a navy business suit, she could have been on her way to an office job in the City. About thirty, Carol guessed. "You must be Angela," the woman said, offering her hand. "My name is..." She paused as though she didn't want reveal it. Carol hadn't given her real name, and the woman's clients rarely gave their full names, either. "I'm Rita Payne. Come in."

Carol followed her through the living room into the kitchen at the back of the house. The living room was sparsely furnished, but the pricey-looking white leather settee and matching armchairs looked new, as did the smoked-glass coffee table. It seemed business was booming, for as well as the expensive furniture, she estimated landlords for a house in this part of London would ask over œ500 per week. Rita hoisted herself onto a stool at a counter that separated the kitchen from the living room. She beckoned Carol do the same. "First, the consultation fee," Rita said. "You want thirty minutes, so that'll be one hundred pounds. I think that was the figure we agreed?"

Carol reached into her bag, extracted an envelope, and gave it to her. Rita opened it and counted the money. This better be worth it, Carol thought. Half an hour with a lawyer would cost less.

Rita nodded. "Right, that gets the financial stuff out of the way. Now, let's get to your problem."

"Yes, my boyfriend..." Carol seemed to be having difficulty finding the right words.

"On the phone you said you needed some advice on how to turn him on. What did you mean, specifically?"

"Er... It's more complicated than that. He's a customer of yours. I want to know what it is you do to him. Whatever it is, he must enjoy it."

ADULT EXCERPT

After a couple of soaking miles, and encountering no treacherous bogs, Kevin asked, "Ever made love in the open air?"

"Really?" She tried to make it sound as if the notion had never occurred to her. In fact, she had always yearned to make love outdoors but never had--wrong boyfriend, wrong place, wrong time. This was different: right guy, right place, and, well, the weather could be better.

"Yes, are you up for it?" he asked.

"I know you are." She pulled the belt from her raincoat. "Turn around." He obeyed, and she tied his hands behind his back. "Over there," she said, pointing to a lone tree ten yards away. The tree looked as though it might provide a modicum of shelter from the rain.

When they reached it, she loosened the belt holding up his trousers and pulled them down along with his boxers. "Kneel!" She unzipped her raincoat and lifted her skirt. She wasn't wearing panties. "I'm wet, but not down there. I know you're good with your tongue. I've had a taste of it."

He laughed. "You've got it the wrong way round. It's my tongue that's tasted you."

He knelt down and buried himself in her. She pulled her skirt and raincoat back down to cover his head. "That'll keep you dry--the least I can do." She did not hear Kevin's muffled reply.

Carol felt Kevin's tongue start its journey in the dark, halfway up the inside of her left thigh. A jolt of electricity flowed from the point of contact all the way up her spine and then back down to her clitoris. Shortly afterwards his tongue reached the same point, causing her to gasp but unable to say anything. Instead, she put her hands on the back of his head, a hint that she wanted him to stay put.

The fresh air seemed to heighten her senses. Carol hoped that, in contrast, Kevin wasn't suffocating down there. If he was, he exhibited no sign of it, his tongue seemingly inexhaustible as it moved in and out of her vagina. Every minute or so he withdrew for a moment, and she waited for what seemed likes hours before his tongue touched down again on her clitoris. The pause lasted only seconds, long enough for him to take oxygen into his lungs before submerging again to send more electricity into her nervous system.

Carol could have remained like that all day, rain or no rain. "This is terribly selfish of me," she said, hoping she sounded suitably guilty.

Kevin responded with another muffled, incoherent reply.

"I think we should go with the real thing now," she said.