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February 23, 1971-- Gavin Tisdale, a recently ‘discovered artist and former 6’2” 193 pound second string linebacker at the University of Washington stood on the corner of 6^th & Hill in downtown Los Angeles wearing a dark blue suit and a black fedora with the brim curved on his eyes enough to cause every passing female to stare just a moment too long. His rugged good looks outshone the newly acquired expensive Italian shoes he was wearing even though they sparkled brilliantly in the noonday Sun.

A nearby appliance store had its TV blaring through open doors about US Army officer William Calley having confessed and implicated Captain Medina during his trial for the My Lai Massacre. Tisdale paid little to any attention to it and continued looking for a certain address on 6^th Street. Not seeing it he broached a passerby and asked, “Can you tell me where Cole’s is?”

“Sure, it’s over there, in the Pacific Electric Building. Did’ja know it was once the city’s tallest building.”

“And Cole’s is in it?”

“Sure, bottom floor. Had a drink there once it was...”

But Tisdale thanked him and patted his shoulder and made directly for the building that loomed some 80 feet from him.

She was waiting at a table in the rear of the restaurant with a view of the entrance and stood up and waved to him as he passed through the door.

“Gavin, oh I love the hat. It’s so you!” Mrs. Fiona Rumple said just loud enough for Gavin to hear as he passed by the hostess and made for her table.

“Thank you, in a way you paid for it,” he said not being one to pull his punches with women.

Mrs. Fiona Rumple was thirty-three, thrice divorced and a very wealthy woman who had purchased two of his paintings the day before.

Gavin sat down and Fiona quickly patted his knee. “Cole’s is known far and wide for both their cocktails and French dip sandwiches. They may even have invented the French dip sandwich, although another nearby place, Philippe’s makes the same claim.”

“Has this place been around a long time?”

“Oh, you better believe it,” Fiona said giving his thigh a light squeeze. “There’s a sign as you walk in here that says: ‘Founded by Henry Cole in 1908’”

“I guess I’ll have the French dip then,” he said.

“Join me in having a martini? They are excellent if I must say so.” Then she laughed and said, “And I just did, didn’t I?”

After their martini’s arrived and Fiona took a sip, she said, “You just missed him. He was so handsome too!”

“Who was it that I missed?”

“Well, just after walking into the building I ran into none other than Marlon Brando!”

“Really?” Gavin said, impressed by the fact. “Did you get to speak to him?”

“Oh, yes, I made it a point too, you know? He eyed my tits... um, is that to forward of me?”

He laughed and a moment later she realized why. “Oh, he eyed my tits... that was forward of me wasn’t it?”

“I say so, yes,” Tisdale grinned, but made a point of looking directly at her tits and not her eyes.

“Mmmm, you’re cute, and very good-looking yourself, Gavin.”

“So what did Brando have to say?”

He was admiring Fiona’s dark tan and how it complemented her glossy black hair. She reminded him of a gypsy fortune teller he had met at a State Fair in Olympia while in college. That woman had been a tornado in bed and from what he’d seen and heard from Fiona, he was fairly sure she was cut from the same material.

He almost missed her reply about Brando, but managed to catch it.

“ ... told me his next film is gonna be The Godfather, you know Mario Puzo’s best seller? He starts the last week of March.”

“I read the book,” Gavin said making sure his voice reflected an interest he didn’t share.

The waiter came and took their orders, and as he left, her hand lightly brushed over his penis.

He arched his eyebrows and Fiona giggled.

“I’m sorry, but I’m horny today. I was going to suggest that we stop off at the hotel on the corner, but understand if you’re not in the mood.”

“You’re a very attractive woman, Mrs. Rumple, is there a Mr. Rumple?” Tisdale said and left it there.

Fiona waited until the clatter of noise from the other diners subsided somewhat before responding.

“Gavin, please call me Fi or Fiona, never Mrs. Rumple. I cannot stand the name or the man, but his money is another matter entirely. His name was Wallace and he was so much older than I when we married. He was sixty-one and I wasn’t even twenty-four. But the way he lived and all, tanned and muscular, nice flat stomach and all his parts worked very well ... you never would have known it.”

“He was in the funeral business, had fourteen different funeral homes scattered around Athens and Atlanta; even had one in Hilton Head. We had a neat little cottage there as well. I would add that he was a very astute businessman. I say this because he saw the future, in a manner of speaking. He and his family had been in the bereavement business for almost ninety years but he saw what was coming with these big corporations swallowing up the little guys left and right, and did what had to be done. He said: ‘Single family ownership can’t compete with these international corporations. Sooner or later they will own everybody, I mean it. The ones they can’t buy they’ll run out of business.’ And then he added the most important part, saying ‘the one who sells first in any town will get the best price.’ Wallace did just that.”

Fiona laughed. “But it was his first wife that got the most of his money when he died. “She being the first one to cash him out!”

Fiona smoother her dress with one hand and took a sip of her drink with the other. “But I did all right, especially for a little girl from Shittsville, Georgia. I managed to get into the U of Georgia by fucking my High School principal. Then I managed to win the Miss Georgia Beauty Contest and stayed in school, traveling back and forth to Atlanta and other cities and towns throughout the state that year. My first job was as executive assistant to the vice-president of The Bank of Savannah, who happened to be my father’s cousin. That gentleman loved fucking doggy-style, and so do I, but he also taught me that any businessman whose got something on the ball, doesn’t mind it if he happens to meet a good-looking woman who’s also a sharp-thinking woman. And that’s how I met Wallace, well, after Leonard and Donald. I was nineteen when I married Leonard. That was a real quickie. Daddy and Mr. Dogood, the aforementioned VP of the Bank of Savannah helped get it annulled. Silly me jumped right back into the frying pan and hooked up with Donald seven months later. It was Donald got me into the Miss Georgia contest—we were already married but hadn’t bothered telling anyone. We got divorced after my year as Miss Georgia was up and I started at the bank.

“Anyway, the money I got from Wallace I put into a neat investment package—something Mr. Dogood advised me to do, and it quadrupled over the next eight years.”

“Umm, Gavin?”

“Yes, Fiona?”

“I’m still horny. Do you want to fuck?”

“Can we eat first?” He said with a broad grin.

“Mmmm, of course, but do me a little favor will you?”

“Sure, what is it?”

“Take it out. I need to feel you.”

“Why don’t you do it?” He asked with an even bigger smile.

“Because my hand is shaking and I’d probably lean too far over this fuckin’ table.”

“A reasonable answer, okay...” The sound of his zipper was barely audible but Fiona drew in her breath on hearing it and a moment later reached under the table and took hold of his erection.

“Ahhh, you are a big boy aren’t you?”

“Mmmm, you ladies seem to like it.”

“If you know how to use it I’ll agree with you.”

“Oh,” he said caught off guard. “You think...”

“I’m not thinking anything, Gavin. Oh, that’s a lie. I am thinking about you shoving this inside me in umm, thirty minutes from now.” She let out a lewd laugh, “I know I’m pushing it, but you can go more than once, can’t you?”

“I usually fuck the lady, and after I catch my breath I go down on her. Then I usually stick it in again somewhere on her person, so yeah, I can and do go more than once.”

“Can you smell my excitement, Gavin?”

He smiled and looked her in the eye, then sniffed.

She had to hold back a groan watching his nostril’s flare as he nodded.

“Jesus Christ, let’s eat and for god’s sake don’t order desert!” Fiona said jerking his penis several times in succession before letting go of it. Forty minutes later they walked into a hotel room on the eighth floor of a reasonably decent hotel two blocks from Cole’s.

“Let’s not waste time with any small talk,” she said hoarsely, tossing her hat onto a nearby chair and then kicking off her shoes.

Tisdale was draping his jacket on the other chair, and then started loosening his tie. He sat on one side of the bed and calmly removed his Italian shoes and then his socks; Fiona was already out of her dress and posed before him clad only in a black corset, panties and stockings.

He paused to take in the wet spot at the center of her peek-a-boo panties and the very unmistakable view of her dark bush and the deep cleft of her flared cunt lips.

The faint perfumed scent she had applied there before leaving the restaurant did not hide the basic feminine smell of her; and its primeval musk excited him madly.

Mmmm, he thought, licking his lips, I’m really going to enjoy this.

He saw the expectation in her eyes and pulled her to him and kissed her firmly. Her lips were soft as was her kiss at first. His hands cradled her head and gripped the small of her back as their tongues met for the first time. She clutched at his upper torso in response, holding fast with both hands as they both enjoyed one another’s taste. Swapping spit and sucking on one another’s lips left strands of wetness linking their lips and dribbling down their chins.

Fiona lapped and sucked on each of his lips, alternating her wet-mouthed favors between top and bottom. Still nibbling on his lower lip her hands headed south to his belt line and on down, smoothing out the fabric of his trousers, pulling it tight against the throbbing shaft beneath. “Oh fuck,” Fiona breathed, delighted once again with his formidable size.

Gavin kissed her neck as she traced the length of the bulge beneath his zipper. He groaned and reached back, and then one hand landed upon the firmness of her ass, still clad in corset and silk panties and squeezed the moment she delineated the outline of his erection with one delicately stroking finger.

They both let out lewd laughs and kept on with what they were doing. Then they were kissing again. When he broke the kiss, Fiona’s lips hovered close to his but she was panting and slightly hazy with lust knowing he was about to ravish her, knowing somehow he was going to satisfy her.

But Gavin reined in his primal instinct by drawing in a lung full of air to dissipate the onrush of his lust and thus continued the dance of seduction a little longer. He saw the elation in Fiona’s eyes as he fumbled with the clips attaching the garters to her stockings. “It’s okay,” she said breathlessly, “They’re hard for me too, but you’ll get the knack of it in a second or two.”

Fiona giggled as he succeeded with the first clip; and after unhooking it he took a moment to caress the bare flesh of her upper right thigh. Emboldened by her happy moan, Gavin reached across her lap and easily released the other clip causing the front of her stocking to lose its tautness and the garter strap to dangle from her corset.

Fiona flashed him a smile before turning and presenting him with the rear straps still stretched tight against the plump cheeks of her ass. “Now just do me from behind.”

“I’ll need some lubricant for that, Fiona, but I’d be delighted too if that’s what you had in mind.”

“No anal ... not yet anyway, she said firmly, telling him that as far as she was concerned anything went when it came to sex as long as it was good sex.

Gavin wasted no time in detaching her stockings from the corset and teased her thighs and ass cheeks in the process; causing Fiona to purr like the proverbial contented cat while she shimmied out of the corset.

He took this opportunity to garner an even closer look at her pantied rear, which managed to cling tightly to the beautifully defined cleft of her ass. Gavin decided to draw out the moment and sent his fingers in an exploratory expedition under the hem of her silk stocking.

“Oh my...” Fiona moaned unexpectedly.

“I ... I didn’t think you’d do that.”

“So you do like it?” He inquired judiciously.

“I like everything you’ve done so far, baby.” “Your flesh is so velvety, Fiona. I could touch it all night.”

“Oh, God, you’re a smooth talking bastard aren’t you?”

“I try, Fiona, I try,” Gavin said starting to inch the stocking on her left leg down her thigh with his eyes fixed on the dark wet spot and triangle of pubic hair before him on the gusset of her panties.

“Ohhhh!”

Down further yet until peeling the stocking completely off her helpfully pointed foot. “Only one more baby,” Fiona cooed, stretching out the other leg and looking into his eyes as he stripped the remaining stocking from her foot, and then added: “Jesus, Gavin, that was hot, you get extra points for taking things slow even though I wanted you to rip the damn things off at first.”

“I need a drink before I tackle that corset, Fiona,” he said and went to the hotel’s mini-fridge and to her surprise came back with a chilled bottle of water, from which he took a long drink.

“Can I have some?” Fiona asked.

“Sure he said, and without thinking poured the remaining contents of the bottle over her corseted tits and panties. Fiona sputtered incoherently at first, then finding her voice yelled, “What the fuck are you doing?” But a split second later she was laughing at his unexpected antics.