LADY LUCK PART TWO

(M/F; illustrated)

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."

"Like this, you mean?"

"That's exactly the right position, Ms Doofer. Now all I do is to put my hand down here and find out what your exact market potential is."

Chloe gasped and wriggled around on top of my stiff cock like a landed fish.

"Oh! I've never been surveyed before. Not like this, anyway. It's a pretty fun thing, isn't it?"

"It sure is -- and guess what, Ms, I've determined that you're about as ready for a numero uno fucking as you're ever likely to be in your life."

"You know, Mr Donkeydick, I was sure myself I would be -- isn't that a coincidence? But how much is it going to cost me though?"

"Uh -- a hundred francs."

"But I don't have any francs."

"No, but you will have when I take you to Paris. Now get your clothes off."

"Oh, you salesmen are all so masterful! I love it!"

It was no surprise at all that when I took her sweater off to find nothing at all underneath it. Chloe doesn't need any support but she's got everything she needs to let you know you've got her attention. And the kick I got from having her in my arms -- well, if NASA could put it into a rocket we'd have gotten to Mars long ago.

"Rand, it's so much fun being with you. You're my kind of fool."

"The feeling's mutual, honey. But about this deal ... I guess I went over the top, hey?"

"Aww, hell, you mean I'm not going to Paris after all? Why, Mr Donkeydick, I just bet you're not going to screw me either -- some salesman!"

"Come on, Chloe, you know what I'm talking about. I'm talking about Piet Schmued."

"What about him? Can't I start off with the good looking one before I have to work my way down the list to the Bill Gates lookalikes?"

"Jees, Chloe, I only just found you -- OK, you only just found me, I guess I mean to say. But it's not been 48 hour yet and already I'm talking about losing you."

She settled down on top of my legs, put her arms around my neck and kissed me lightly on the lips.

"Rand, you fool, you're not losing me. We're headed for the big time, together. We just need to get things started, that's all. Hey, and don't think I didn't notice how fast you got back here as soon as I started talking about hitting on one of those guys. I don't think it was because you wanted to give any lectures on morality. So how about getting started and doing something with me, Mr Donkeydick?"

I growled like a menacing bear and slid my hands around her tight little buns. Smooth, smooth skin, all the way. "Say, Ms Doofer, aren't you kind of undercovered back there?"

She giggled: "Oh yeah, it's that boss of mine, that randy Rand. He's such an pain the ass that I only get to keep my job by showing him mine all the time."

"Yeah? The guy must be some kind of seriously sick pervert ... Say, can I take a look as well?"

"You mean like me taking my clothes off?"

"I guess that's one way of doing it."

"OK, let's try it and see what happens."

What happened was that I found myself next to the near naked body of the sexiest girl I'd ever seen anywhere, anytime.

Maybe Chloe wouldn't have got past the door at Hugh Hefner's mansion but then again maybe she would. Ask me why she always made me feel such a horny son of a bitch and I'll give you a straight answer -- I'd never known a girl before who just plain damn enjoyed being a girl so much. Maybe that makes sense to you, maybe not, but it always has done for me.

"So is this what your boss makes you do?"

"Sure. And you wouldn't believe what he makes me do next. Why I'd be too embarrassed to even tell you."

"Aw, shucks, ma'm, why a decent southern gal like you shouldn't have to tell me about all these dirty goings on. Why, you just hush your mouth and show me what you have to do."

"But I have to use my mouth to show you."

"That's fine, Ms Doofer, you go right ahead. I'll kind of think of something else while you're busy. Honestly, I don't give a damn."

Chloe eased down my pant's zip: "Then I'll have to be careful not to do anything you might notice, Mr Donkeydick. Not something like this, maybe ... "

She gently put her mouth against my briefs and expelled a blast of warm breath through the thin material. Of course I was much too self controlled to respond to a girl bronx cheering my balls, apart from twitching like a guy in an electric chair cranking up a terminal power bill.

"I'm not disturbing you at all, am I, Mr Donkeydick?"

"Never felt a thing, Ms Doofer."

"Fine."

"Well, that's kind of strange, there seems to be a lot more meat packed away in here in here now than there was a minute ago. What could have caused that?"

"It's a trade secret, Ms Doofer. Like I say, we have to do a lot of training in my job to meet all kinds of situations."

"Can I take a peek, please? Please? Pretty please with sugar on?"

"OK: if you really want to."

I was expecting her to take hold of my waistband. Only with her hands, not with her teeth. Then Chloe looked up and grinned as if she was about twelve years old and caught raiding the cookie jar. God, it was happening again, feelings like I'd never had before. Sex is great, sex with a beautiful girl is great, but sex with a beautiful girl with personality plus is something else again -- especially when she seems to be as happy as you are.

She snorted with laughter through her nose, shook her head from side to side like a terrier worrying a rag, then pushed her nose down inside the briefs as though it was rathole. I could even her sniffing as she pressed her nose against the tip of a iron hard cock that was waiting to meet her. If you'd offered me my choice of any other three girls to take Chloe's place I wouldn't have wanted to know. And I would have bet that a hell of a lot of other guys would have felt the same way as well.

Mind you, I did wonder if I was going way over the top in my feelings about her. Until I looked down and watched her pulling off my shoes like a little slave girl with that same high octane mixture of school girl naughtiness and burning sexuality.

Right then and there I knew that Piet Schmued was as good as on the payroll. No matter what other women he had in his life, Chloe would trump them every which way. As soon as I was down to my socks she grabbed hold of my pants and started hauling them off as eagerly as she'd gone after my shoes.

"You don't mind me taking your clothes off do you, Mr Donkydick? I have to do it all the time for my boss because he's too lazy to do it for himself."

"Is that right? Why do you keep on working for him then?"

"I think it must be because he fucks me stupid every day. The thing is, he has such a lovely cock and I can't resist it. But yours seems even better. Would you mind if I played around with it for a little while? Just for some comparison shopping?"

I was having to try really hard not to laugh.

"Well, OK, as long as you don't mind unwrapping it."

"Oh, that's no problem at all." She crawled on her hands and knees between my legs and started calling out softly: "Cockie, cockie, come to mummy -- I've got a treat for you."

Then she bent her head down and started using her tongue to make damp patches on my briefs. One big damp patch really, all up and down my shaft as she bobbed it around and nibbled at the top of it. Nothing at all that you'd notice really, apart maybe from that one hundred per cent perfect ass my eyes accidentally fastened onto somehow. Maybe because Chloe was swaying it gently from side to side like the head of a snake beguiling its prey.

"Uh, Ms Doofer ... you can take those briefs off me anytime you like."

Her voice was on the edge of laughter: "Are you sure you don't mind showing me this great big prick of yours ?"

"No, that's OK, Ms Doofer. It's a necessary part of the service. If you don't do it I can't make the agreed delivery."

"You mean I've got to do it or I'm breaking a contract?"

"That's right, Ms. It's against the law for you not to strip me of. You wouldn't wanted to be cited for contempt of court, would you?"

"Oh no, I wouldn't want that to happen to me. I'd better get them off straightaway, hadn't I, Mr Donkydick?"

"I guess so, Ms Dooferatickle."

Cloe laughed again and clawed down my briefs in no time squared.

"Gracious me, you're in exactly the same state as my boss always is when I undress him. You're surely not going to put me across my desk and fuck me with that monster like he would now?"

"Of course not, Ms Doofer. I'm not like your boss, I'm a gentleman. I'm going to make you suck my cock and then I'm going to fuck you."

Chloe stuck an attitude like a schoolgirl getting an unfair punishment: "Oh, sir, but I couldn't do anything like that with you watching me -- I'd be too shy."

"Alright then, I'll keep my eyes closed while you're doing it."

"Promise?"

"I promise."

"OK then, but if I catch you peeking I'll stop."

Now that was a challenge I hadn't expected and I wished I'd kept my big mouth shut so I could have kept my eyelids open. Still, it'd be kind of interesting to see how long I'd be to resist the temptation of watching Chloe blowing me. Maybe the situation had the makings of a great new party game.

"Eyes tight shut," I told her and waited.

But not for long: her hand was on me with seconds, gently tugging at my length as if making sure it was securely anchored.

"These things are beautiful -- they're too good to be wasted on men."

It was my turn to chuckle.

"Well, it's true. I'd love to take one home for a pet but you have to take a man along as well as part of the deal -- it's not fair."

"Perhaps we could get something done with genetic engineering," I said. "But imagine all those woman taking their pet cocks for walks through Central Park."

Cleo sniggered: "At least we'd finally have them where they belonged -- on leashes."

"I'd prefer to think of it as a plant," I told her. "And it needs to be well watered if it's to keep on growing."

"OK, OK, back to the salt mines."

God, but it was good having her lips around my cock and her tongue giving the best massage you can get this side of paradise. I really, really wanted to watch her doing that to me but it was too early to give up on the challenge. So I began playing out a little film sequence on the back of my eyelids. A scene with Piet and Chloe.

He was sitting in my office chair and Chloe was dressed as she had been when I walked in today. But now she was kneeling in front of the chair and doing to Piet exactly what she was doing to me now. Every time she bobbed her head down onto my cock I could imagine her doing the same for him: every lick I was getting I could imagine Piet getting -- in my chair, in my office, from my girl. And I didn't kid myself at all that Chloe wouldn't give him just as good a head job as I was getting right now. The big son of a bitch was loving it, loving it! Leaning back and grinning as Chloe worked away on her knees at his cock as though he was some kind of a king ...

My hand reached out to touch Chloe's hair, to rest on her neck then pressing her face down to meet my upward thrusts. One of her hands matched my move, sliding up my chest to grip my shoulder, as though I might drift away otherwise.

I wondered if she had guessed what I was thinking about. She was sure smart enough: whatever, she was giving me a head pumping that would have kept the Titanic afloat. And I was directing another vivid film clip in my mind, a tiny fragment which kept looping around and around, with Chloe bent over the chair and Piet and I standing front and back as she sucked and wriggled between us. The only thing which changed was whether I was fucking her from behind as she sucked on Piet's cock, or whether I was filling her mouth as Piet chopped her wood pile for her. And as I got closer and closer to coming the positions changed ever more frequently.

I knew I had to open my eyes again and quickly too, or it would all be over before it had even begun: the images of sharing Chloe with Piet were building up pressure inside my groin like a volcano getting ready to blow. I caught hold of her, lifted her up, turned round and pulled her down onto my lap.

Somehow I found myself fingering Chloe as though what I'd visualised had actually happened and she was a little slut who needed some rough handling. I suppose I was waiting for her to pull away from me.

It didn't turn out that way though. Chloe pressed back against me and one of her arms clamped tightly around my neck as I forced her cunt open.

"Go on, Rand, go on!" She was blowing gusts of air out through her nose. I went deeper, faster, harder. She rode up and down on my fingers, her muscles sqeezing back against them as though I was waking a sleeping animal.

"Rand -- now! I want it now!"

I was as far inside her as I could reach and trying to keep Chloe on my lap was like trying to keep a gaffed tune from wriggling off the hook and back into the sea.

"How?"

"Lie down and I'll ride you, lover."

"So that's why you keep calling me Donkeydick."

She had an outburst of giggles: "No, you fool, that was because of your face. Now get down there."

"Aye, aye, skipper. Going down now."

I stretched out on the carpet: "Conning tower's ready for boarding and standing by to blow all tanks."

Chloe laughed out loud and settled herself on me: "OK, chief, let's make some waves here!"

What I really felt like was a racehorse which had just moved up from riding school to being ridden by an ace jockey. Every other girl who'd decided to throw her saddle over me had felt as heavy and awkward as a sack of potatoes. Chloe was light, she was little, she was lithe and lightning fast. I grabbed her hips and slam dunked her all the way up and down: my fantasies about young female gymnists were finally coming true. She moaned, her hair floating in swirling strands as she flicked her head backwards at the top of each ascent.

"Rand? I'll get Piet for you -- I will ... "

I didn't want to hear this -- I couldn't stop myself from wanting to hear it.

"By screwing him?"

Even as I said the words I drove up into harder and further than on any other stroke. Chloe squealed: her arms lifted up, and it was obvious she was stroking those hard budding nipples.

"Just trying to be a good secretary, boss ... ah!"

The scene I'd had in my mind before came flickering back into my mind's eye again. "In here? In the office?"

"Sure. Bring him here, let him think I'm your secretary. All I need do is to get a chance to scratch my nails across the back of his hand and smile ... mmm ... He'll call back, but the call won't get as far as you."

"And make a date?"

"No: I'll tell him you won't be in the office tomorrow, but maybe he should come around anyway to check out some files."

"Why? Why that way?"

"He's a guy -- he won't want to date me if he thinks he can fuck me on top of my own desk, especially with me being your secretary in your office. It'll bring him running ... "

I nearly stopped in mid thrust; it was as if she'd been able to see into my mind and watch the scenes I'd been screening inside it. It made me feel stupid and that made me feel angry. It was time she had some of her smarts reamed out of instead of playing her own game on top of my cock.

Not that she needed to be coaxed down onto her knees and sprawled out on top of the couch. In fact she called out my name as I opened the cheeks of her ass to get at the welcome mat underneath them and deliver my calling card. Afterwards she bounced back at each stroke as if she was spring loaded.

"Randy! Randy! I love it!"

Which was nice to hear but I already knew it, because I didn't need to be telepathic to know that Chloe's cunt muscles were clamped around me like a oyster trying to hide its pearl.

I wondered if Piet would get her panting so hard, if she would would yelp and wriggle so much for him -- and if boarding Chloe regularly would be enough to entice Piet to come onboard the company.

"He likes it threeways," I said.

"What?"

"Piet. We got drunk one time and he said he liked to hire two pros at a time. So let him know early on you're a regular party animal."

"OK, OK! I'll do it!"

This was crazy, totally crazy. This girl was the only friend I had in the world and I was treating her like a little tramp. But if I couldn't turn things around by using her there'd be no more money, no more apartment living and maybe an appointment down at social security.

Yet -- doing what we had to was one thing. Getting a kick out of the thought of turning Chloe over to Piet was something lurking in the darker side of my character than I'd ever known was there.

Which was why I shouldn't have put her down on her back for the grand finale. It nearly stopped the fucking as far as I was concerned. Because the way Chloe looked at me was one of those special looks again, the kind of loving look that no other girl has ever given me.

There was something there I couldn't understand. No woman who knew me as well as Chloe did should be smiling at at me like that. Not like I was the biggest lottery prize ever. Not like I was some hunk of a film star up there on a screen and she was part of the audience. This wasn't a movie and she was close enough to smell my armpits and to see the fear of failure in my eyes. There wasn't anything here but the real Rand and he was surely no hero to anyone.

OK, she said I'd saved her life when we were kids. Maybe I had, even though I barely remembered the incident. But what the hell had that got to do with what we were now?

Anyway, whoever we were, the bottom line was that Chloe was below me, her muscles locked tight as I grunted out her name. I heard her whine and then felt her body twitching and jerking against me as I parted company with a whole bunch of DNA heading south. Is there any better sound than hearing a woman crying out at the pleasure you've given her?

Well, I guess it's good to be able to call out her name in your high point as well, and to know she can hear you. Especially when you can remember how she used to be the little girl next door with the big hearing problem. I'd felt sorry for her, I remembered that. But she'd somehow turned herself from a forlorn child into a fabulous woman.

Which was maybe why I was trembling a bit myself as she hugged me afterwards. I guess I'm always wary of small people who manage to achieve big things. Even when they're very, very beautiful and they hold you very tight.

"Why, Chloe?"

"Why what, lover?

"Why me, and why now? Why are you fighting so hard to get me out of the crap? Don't tell me it's because of something I did fifteen years ago. Hell, I'm surprised you even remember what happened, let alone care about it."

"Rand, you've no idea of all the things I care about. But if you don't want to be on the list ... "

"Hey, lady, I would live in your heart, die in your lap and be buried in your eyes."

"Oh, Rand!"

Yeah, there's no doubt about it, any guy who plans on making out with the girls should stay awake during English lit classes. That's where you get the sort of education you really need in dangerous moments.

THE END
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