It was late Thursday afternoon when Janis, my secretary, stuck her head in the door and said, "Your four o'clock appointment is here and I'm getting ready to take off. Remember you said I could go home early today."
Damn! I had forgotten about Mrs. Russell. Tomorrow and Monday were holidays and I was looking forward to getting an early start on the long weekend myself. I had just met a new, hot lady I was hoping to get to know better, a lot better. I had made reservations for a weekend trip to the Bahamas on one of the cruise ships out of Miami. I desperately needed to get lucky, and I don't mean at the craps table.
I had only skimmed over the Russell file. Sixty-four year old Fred Russell, a successful businessman, had driven his car off a cliff on the Pennsylvania Turnpike. The method of death suggested suicide but there was no other evidence to back it up. Under the terms of the policy, suicide paid nothing, regular loss of life was $250,000 and the double indemnity clause paid $500,000. As an insurance investigator it was my job to determine which was the case. If he drove off the cliff on purpose she got nothing, if he had a heart attack and died before going of the cliff she got $250,000 but if he fell asleep then took the big jump she could be in line for the full half million. His wife, Mrs. Fred Russell was named as the sole beneficiary under the policy.
Well, let's get the old battle-ax in here and see what we can do. I called Janis on the intercom, "Send Mrs. Russell in before you go. Have a nice weekend. See you Tuesday."
The door opened and in walked a very tall and very attractive blond, tastefully dressed in a short skirt and frilly blouse. She had long tan legs with flat-heeled sandals and no hose. I guessed her to be in her early 30's, about ten years younger than myself. She was a beautiful woman, with large, firm, shapely breasts, a narrow waist and hips that promised heaven. She demurely took a seat in front of my desk as I fiddled with the file.
"How do you do, Mrs. Russell? I was just familiarizing myself with your the status of your, ah, claim." I would kill to familiarize myself with her body.
"Let's cut the small talk. It's been over four months since my husband drove off that cliff. I need to close this and get along with my life. I know, first hand, and my private investigator found out that the medical examiner said, he was alive when he went off the cliff, so I am entitled to the full amount of the double indemnity claim."
Unfortunately, without any proof of suicide, she was probably right. In any case, we would probably lose a court trial, the jury would award her the full amount of the claim and we would be stuck with the cost of the litigation too. It would be best to cut our losses and settle. I wondered if I could negotiate something a little below the full $500,000.
As I shuffled through the file and looked at the photo of the demolished car she came around the end of the desk and looked at the picture over my right shoulder. It was impossible to ignore her perfume or, in fact, any part of her presence. Her left breast was just brushing my shoulder and I could feel her warm breath in my ear. She should have been able to see the goose bumps on the skin of my neck. I know I felt a pleasant stirring in my loins that had become more and more frequent over the past few weeks.
"Our investigator said he cannot be sure that Mr. Russell was alive when he went off the cliff but, if he was, there is a good chance that it was suicide." Maybe, if a good bluff worked, I could be on my way to the Bahamas to take care of this unusual swelling condition in my penis. I gave her my best comforting smile and, as I began to put things back into the file folder, said, "I'll contact the company and see if they will settle for the face value of the policy and save a long legal battle".
She moved back around to the front of the desk, gave me a dazzling smile and said, "Not on your life. I have been fucked too many times by big business and I'm not going to let you or some dickless insurance company do it to me again. I might let you do it to me for free but not for two hundred and fifty grand."
I wasn't sure what she said after the part about "For free." I think she said something else, but all I could hear was my libido screaming in my ear, beating on the inside of my chest.
She sat down and continued, "Why don't you close up here and take me to dinner so we can talk about it."
About what? Fucking me for free or settling the policy? I think I mumbled something about canceling some plans. She stood up to leave but I couldn't because the swelling in my crotch was so severe I knew I could hang a flag from it.
She flashed me another of those dazzling smiles and said, "OK, I am in the executive suite at the Sheraton downtown. Call me later and lets see if we can get our thoughts and things together."
Oh, damn, I did want to get my thing together with hers! But I whimped out and said, "Fine, I'll call you about 6:30, if that's OK."
She nodded her acceptance and breezed out of the office, leaving the essence of her perfume hanging in the air, throwing love darts into me like some invisible seductress.
I made a flurry of canceling the boat and hotel reservations. Canceling the trip with Lucile was not as easy. When I told her that something unexpected 'came up' she indicated that I could kiss the part of her I could see as she departed. She also said something about me passing up an opportunity to have my eyes roll back into my head and that the temperature in the neither world would be quite chilly before I had another chance as good as this to experience ultimate bliss.
Back in my apartment I wondered if I was a fool for passing up sure thing Lucile for Mrs. Russell. (I didn't even know her first name yet). In the shower, I washed away the day's grime, wondered about relieving my swelling, decided against it, shaved and changed into my best casual slacks and sport blazer. I called her promptly at 6:30 and made a date to meet her in the hotel dinning room at 7:00.
Her entrance into the hotel dinning room was breathtaking. Conversation dimmed, forks full of food paused on their way to open mouths, waiters stood still in their tracks and even other women stopped talking to look at her. She wore a simple black dress that was in sharp contrast to her blond hair and showed her outstanding figure to maximum advantage. The ma"tre d' made a fool of himself fawning over her as he showed her to my table.
I'm sure I wasn't any more suave when I stood up to welcome her, the winds of coitus were blowing cobwebs across my mind, blocking any rational thought. "Good evening Mrs. Russell."
"I'm no longer Mrs. I am a widow now, remember? Anyway, I would prefer Rita to Ms. Russell."
She sat and we ordered. She had a he-man-sized filet mignon and I had a small prime rib. Over dinner we discussed her claim and I explained that if it went to litigation, we would both the out by the amount of the attorneys fees. I suggested we settle for something a little less than the full, face amount of the policy. She laughed and said, "You know was well as I do that my claim is valid and likely to be upheld. If it is, you'll get to pay all of the attorney's fees and the full amount the policy to boot."
She leaned toward me, giving me a wonderful view of her cleavage and, in the tones of a conspirator whispered, "I'll tell you what, you approve the full amount of the policy and I'll give you the best piece of ass you ever had."
Suddenly my tongue was swollen in my mouth. "I, I'll - er -- I Don't - Maybe -- I can - Oh hell, yes, I will do it!" God how I wanted to do it!
.... There is more of this story ...