Chapter 5

Four days later and Dan was standing in front of the Ford dealership in Santa Monica avenue, coincidentally just a few blocks from Sandra's apartment. Caddy was standing next to him, and the two of them were standing in front of a row of brand new Mustangs.

Caddy had a cigar in his mouth and he kept blowing smoke rings and saying things like "Oh boy. You sure about this? I was thinking a nice BMW or Mercedes or something?"

Dan ignored him for the most part, just staring at the cars.

Eventually they were approached by a salesman, one Jules Turner. He was a dark shade of black – the kind that is truly black and not just brown. He was dressed in a very expensive suit and when she smiled, his white teeth truly shone.

"Can I interest you gentlemen in a little test drive? I've been noticing you admiring these fine automobiles." His patter was straight out of 1963 and for some reason, he more than got away with it. As a salesman, Jules was The Man.

Dan glanced at him and then went back to looking at the cars.

Caddy turned and looked at Jules and said, "My friend here thinks he wants one of these. I'm not entirely sure why. I think he has a small dick or something."

Jules smiled back to show there was no hard feelings and replied, "Oh, I'm sure that's not true. I suspect that the man here just wants those extra couple of inches, to take him to a complete foot, no doubt!"

Both Caddy and Dan couldn't help but laugh at that, and the ice was well and truly broken.

"I'm Jules. How can I help you fine gentleman today?"

Dan pulled a piece of paper out of his pocket and looked it over, and then, with the voice of one reading something that they don't understand, he said, "Do you have a ... um ... a Rosch Stage two convertible GT Mustang, with manual gearbox and six speed in stock?"

Jules smiled a wide smile and said, "Oh I'm sure we do. And it's pronounced Rousch. With a U."

"Can I drive it, please?" said Dan.

"Well of course you can young sir. Of course you can."

They picked out a blue convertible (the electric blue whose paint name Dan came to find out was called 'Impact Blue', to which he took Caddy aside and said, "Seriously? 'Impact blue'? For a car? Who the fuck names these things?") with the divided white strip down the middle. The car came with side air intakes, a hood with the extra air intake, and it generally looked like something Luke Skywalker should be driving.

When Dan clapped eyes on it, he looked at Jules and said, "Yeah, I think that might take me to sixteen inches."

They went out for a drive, with Caddy in the back. Caddy later swore that he'd never drive in a car driven by Dan again, since they basically took the 405 at ninety miles an hour, which in pre-rush hour traffic is some feat.

Eventually they arrived back in the car dealership, and everyone made excuses to hit the bathroom, except Dan who just asked for bottled water.

Then, after some small talk, Dan asked exactly how much the car was, to drive away right there. Everyone was talking with studied ease and nonchalance, as though they were talking about going to a movie.

"So, to drive that out the door, we are talking fifty seven K my good sir," said Jules, dismissively, like that was no big deal.

Caddy just sat there, looking out the window and at the hottie dealership interns running around in their tight skirts.

Dan looked back and said, "You know, if I were to put fifty thousand dollars down on the table, right now, I wonder if I might pick up those keys and go for a drive."

Jules smiled back. "Oh, I doubt it. But I can go ask for you."

"Why don't you do that, Jules. Just for information's sake, of course."

Jules got up and went to see the manager, in the time-honored fashion of every car sales men the world over. He returned five minutes later and just sat down and stared at Dan and said, "In a word, No."

Dan looked back, looked at Caddy and nodded and the two rose to leave.

"However," continued Jules, and the two men stopped their motion, "If you were to put fifty four thousand on the table, there's a very good chance of that happening."

Dan sat back down, leant back and took in the surrounding scene, taking his time.

"I think that might be a touch high. Perhaps fifty two thousand might make its way here?" he said, looking at his fingernails.

There was silence as Jules pulled out his phone and glanced at it. Eventually he replied, "I suspect that probably won't be enough. Perhaps if another thousand were to join it, that would be sufficient."

Dan pursed his lips and pouted for a second.

"Fine. Deal." He then reached into his pocket of his windbreaker and brought out a wad of cash, all hundreds. He peeled off a few thousand and then threw the rest of the bundle at Jules, who caught it, and said, "Keys?"

Literally twenty minutes later, Dan was standing in front of the car, keys in hand trying not to jump around and, in the parlance of his childhood, 'be cool'. Caddy was standing next to him saying, "You sure about this?"

Dan looked at him and said, "Caddy, a car should say something about the man driving it. New body, new car, lots of oomph. Trust me. It sounds great and it goes like shit off a shovel and it looks, well, muscly. This is my car."

Caddy nodded and said, "Well, as long as you are happy and as long as I don't have to drive in it with you. How do you know about this stuff anyway? You didn't strike me as someone into cars? Not driving that piece of crap Nissan?"

Dan laughed and said, "No, it's a writer friend of mine. A guy named StangStar. I know him as StangStar06. He and I are on a forum together. What that guy doesn't know about Mustangs isn't worth knowing. I just emailed him and asked him what I should be driving. He told me what to look for."

Caddy laughed. "I should have known. The uber nerd has friends everywhere. Well, it is a lovely car. You have fun now. Don't die on the way home. And don't kill anyone else, either."

Dan just nodded absently as Caddy left to go find his Mercedes, just staring at the car.

Eventually he opened the door, put down the hood and drove off, deliberately keeping it in a lower gear than it should be, just so the engine roared.

A few days later, and Dan was back at Sandra's apartment. This time he was even more nervous. He'd been reviewing the passages she'd given him to look over. He'd had to knock on Greg's door to ask to borrow the specific books, and was given them with a knowing smirk from Greg. One more thing to smack his face for when the time came. Although Dan couldn't help but say, "Good thing you had these books Greg. They must be really helpful to you." And that did wipe the smile off Greg's face.

Dan knocked on the door and there she was, in all her glory. This time she was in a wrap dress, with a mid thigh slit.

"Well hello sugar. How are you doin'?" she asked, pouting seductively. "C'mon in. Ah was just about to make myself a Manhattan, you want one?"

Dan nodded and entered her apartment. He sat down on the easy chair, where he'd been last time and she spoke while she busied herself at the bar.

"Ah wasn't sure you'd even show, after last time. Ah guess you'd had some second thoughts?"

Dan replied, "Some. I thought about what you said. This isn't about lust or jollies, this is about education. If June can separate sex and love, I can too."

Sandra stopped cutting up an orange and looked around at him and said, "Well, aren't you just a clever old peach? About time you came around. Ah'm sure your wife wouldn't necessarily agree, but Ah think we can both agree that she's lost that particular high ground. Plus, Ah'm sure she'll enjoy bein' the recipient of some of the lessons here. You want sugar in yours?"

Dan nodded and moments later was handed a drink. He took a sip. It was smooth. His first Manhattan.

"Ok, so did you read up?"

"Yes, Miss Daisy," replied Dan.

Sandra's eyes opened wide and for a second Dan saw true fury, which was instantly replaced by a mellow look.

"Well, aren't you just a card, now. Just for that, Ah think we'll go directly to the lesson. Here's what Ah challenge you. You need to make me cum. With one finger. No more. One finger can be used at any time. You can switch fingers, but only one can be used at a time. Think you can do that?"

Dan realized he'd touched a nerve – even hookers can have buttons. He decided silence was the better part of valor.

He put down his drink and nodded and said, "I can try to do that."

"Don't try, sugar. Make it happen. It's all in your hands, if you'll pardon the expression."

The two of them went to the bedroom, and Dan did his damndest.

The passages he'd been reading were about reading emotional content from body language. They were describing a woman's reactions to arousal, what to look for, and what you can do to either dampen or accelerator that situation. The test before him was a hard one. No woman would cum from doing one thing to her with one finger, you had to swap around and do different things, and you had to know when.

Dan failed. He came close a few times, and he felt he was starting to read her right and do the right things when Sandra glanced at the clock on her bedside table and sat up and said, "Times up. Next time, cowboy."

Dan wasn't thrilled. He knew she'd been pissed right from the word go and he had no chance because of that. Despite that, he knew if he'd had thirty more minutes, he'd have gotten her there.

Sandra got up and gestured for Dan to follow. She took him right to the door, and right before opening it, she said, "Never mind sugar. Next time. Now, Ah need you to read up on cunnilingus. We need to go over that for next time. There's a good book Ah'm going to recommend."

She opened the door and Dan stuck his foot against it and didn't let it open.

"That was an unfair test. And you know. I'm sure glad that you being pissed off was worth more than what Greg paid you for. Hell, you got both. What do you care?"

Sandra just looked at him.

"You know exactly what I mean Miss Daisy. Yeah, there it is. I made a joke lady. Just a joke. I have no idea what your issues are, but I won't be back if all you are going to do is waste my time because you are pissed off about a joke that means nothing to anyone."

Dan surprised himself by making the statement. He was just mad and wasn't about to let a glorified hooker make him doubt himself.

"Well now. Aren't you just the manly man now. You c'mon back next week and prove me wrong."

"That's it?"

Sandra looked right at him and said, with almost no trace of her southern accent, "The whole point of the exercise was for you to read the body language of the person you were with to give her what she needed. I think you failed outright there, don't you? If I was pissed, why the hell didn't you do something about that instead of fighting a loosing battle in the first place? Good sex isn't just about sensation. It's about circumstance and mental attitude. Read the books again. I'll see you next week." And she yanked the door open and without ceremony, pushed him out.

They were now into what was the last two weeks, assuming Greg's prediction was accurate. Dan was down to two hundred and twelve pounds. He was a size thirty-four waist and could now bench-press almost three hundred pounds. His arms looked like something out of Men's weekly magazine, and he felt fantastic.

His boxing was right on the money, and he could floor the sparring partners two times out of four – they treated him with respect now and he knew it.

He knew his time here was coming to an end, and he had to consider what he was going to do when he got home – when he saw June again. He still wasn't sure how he felt – whether the hurt outweighed the need for her. One thing was for sure though; his rage at Greg hadn't gone away. It was still there, white hot at his core. And it would not be denied.

During his last two weeks, Dan went out and did a few things for himself. He ordered some particular items, them being made especially for him. He bought some actual clothes, rather than just tracksuits, since how he had idea of his measurements. He went looking for another gym to go to, because if things went to plan, he sure wouldn't be welcome here any more.

He had also been looking over the PI reports – they weren't telling him anything drastic about June's behaviors. She had gone out with friends for dinner and drinks – Megan being one of them – but their operative couldn't get close enough to overhear anything this time. But there was a report of their table being approached more than once and of June shutting down any conversation instantly, much to Megan's visual annoyance. June had left before ten and that was her evening out.

In the second to last week, two things of major importance happened. The first was yet another call from Caddy, asking Dan to drop by his office. There was a timbre in is voice of restrained exuberance, and since Dan was in the middle of using free weights at the time, he didn't stop to chat – just told Caddy he'd be there in a couple of hours.

The other was an email from Sandra. Dan found that interesting, since he'd never given his email address to Sandra. Or Greg either, for that matter, which is where she must have got it from. It made Dan wonder what else Greg knew about him.

The email read –

Dan read it twice and was left confused about what he really ought to do. He'd bought and read the book she recommended – he wasn't about to ask Greg again – and found it helpful but mostly going on and on about how good the author thought he was at pussy eating, and a bit light on actual details and tips. But still, he'd read it and hoped he'd absorbed some of the lessons. He honestly wasn't planning on returning, both to salve his conscience and also because he didn't particularly need another evening of being set a task he couldn't achieve because someone else was upset.

But right now, he had a meeting to get to. He grabbed some printouts and emailed Caddy some files and then left, taking his new ride out and enjoying the sensation of driving with the top down.

He arrived twenty minutes early and didn't have to find a park, since the building where Caddy's agency was located had it's own parking structure.

He sat in the lobby of the bustling agency, watching famous people walk back and forth and spent ten minutes in a conversation with Ryan Reynolds, who was waiting to talk to his own agent. That was surreal. He'd have to tell June about that. Ryan Reynolds was on her Free Pass list.

Eventually Caddy himself came to find Dan, looking through a sheaf of documents as he did so.

"Dan, I'm just reading your treatment and bible. This shit is hot dude. I LOVE it."

Dan blushed, as they walked through the building to Caddy's office.

"Umm ... it's just an idea I was playing with..."

"This is great dude. A weekly docudrama set in a gym? Why has no one done this before?"

Dan replied, "The closest I could find was some UK based comedy, staring the guy from Red Dwarf? The asshole guy? It ran for a few years."

They entered Caddy's office, complete with its astounding view of downtown LA.

"So look, lets talk about this new thing in a second. Firstly, news on Metamorph. Hallmark is renaming it. Metamorph is a bit too sci-fi for the Hallmark viewership I'm afraid. But you knew that, so I don't think that's really an issue. But, what is astounding is that they've shot all three endings, like I told you. The production crew there were planning on deciding which one to use in the edit phase. However, they can't do it. So they've decided to do something really bold and new. They are showing your movie three times. Once on Sunday, once on Tuesday and once on Friday, all on the same week. And each time, with a different ending. And what's more, they aren't going to tell anyone they are doing this, until after it's broadcast. What do you think of that buddy? This is television history here. No one has ever done this before."

Caddy was smiling so hard, his face was going to crack.

Dan just sat there, frozen, not knowing what to feel. The one overwhelming thought he had was, 'I wish I could tell June. She'd freak.'

"That's pretty cool," he stumbled out.

"'Pretty cool'?" mimicked Caddy, unmercifully. "Christ, it's a good thing you can write, cos as a public inspirational speaker, you blow buddy. Look, this is a big deal. Hallmark is going to make a huge deal out of this. If it's at all successful, they are talking about selling this to Starz. You are gonna get residuals on the first week of your movie is being shown. We've never seen that before here. All kinds of firsts going on here. Get a little excited, won't you??"

Dan said, "Ok. It's VERY cool."

Caddy just looked at him for a moment, eyeballing him to see if he was being mocked.

"Ok, so there's that. Now lets talk about this Gym thing. Why did you wait so long to let me have this?"

Dan shifted his seat, and wordlessly Caddy got up and walked to a small fridge, pulled out a bottled water and handed it to his friend.

"Well, there are issues here. I don't think this is really a network show. Or even a cable show, necessarily."

"Oh? Why not?" asked Caddy.

"Well, it's not about ensemble cast. Sure, there is an ensemble cast here, but every episode is a character dive on a particular member of the gym. The ensemble cast is there purely as glue. Sure, there are some stories about them, but for the most part, it's about the special guests each week. You know what networks are like Caddy. They'll run 4 episodes, look at the audience feedback numbers and then tell us that the show has to revolve around which ever member of the ensemble cast the audience likes the most. This isn't like that."

Caddy nodded, flipping through some more of the papers strewn over his desk. "Probably. What's the problem with that? Lots of successful shows do that."

"Yeah, but not this. Look, think about The Twilight Zone. Was that show about Rod Sterling, or was it about the Story of the week? Rod Sterling was necessary as the narrator, but he wasn't what the show was about, yeah? That's what this is. The ensemble cast is glue, background, not principles. I just don't think that a modern network would go for this. I was thinking maybe something like HBO or Netflix, even? They are in the standalone show game now, right? Can we talk to them?"

Caddy looked over a sheet of paper at Dan and said, "I guess. I still think we should talk to the networks. Give them the chance to pass. There are some pretty progressive people over at NBC right now..."

Dan shrugged and said, "Sure Caddy. Whatever you think."

"You know, it strikes me that if you really wanted to do this right, you need to start your own production company. Get with a producer with proven ability and present this that way. Rather than selling it to HBO or whatever, do it your self and then sell it to them. That way you retain control."

There was a pregnant silence.

"Of course that means you need to find a producer to work with. Someone who is going to be on your side, who is on your wavelength and who'll buy into your concept. I wonder if you know anyone like that?"

Dan just stared at the floor.

Caddy sighed and threw the papers down on the table and there was a pregnant pause. Dan knew exactly what Caddy wanted to talk about and he also knew Caddy didn't know how to start the conversation.

"Dan, you know I'm your friend. I'm ... concerned. Your work is great, but you've got this fucking great void hanging over you. Until you resolve things with June, I'm a little worried about going down a path that you may not stick with. Where's your mind at, buddy? Where is this going?"

Dan looked unhappy. "I honestly don't know Caddy. One minute I am dying because I can't hold her, the next I am raging because of what she did with no regard for me. I can't trust her but I desperately want to. I know she is hurting because of what she did to me, to us, but it's because of that that I can't just put my arms around her. She betrayed me, Caddy. She was all I had, and she did it anyway, for whatever fucked up reasons she had."

And suddenly it came out. Dan started sobbing and Caddy immediately came over to Dan, stopping to close his office door first.

Caddy wrapped his arms around his friend and just held him while he sobbed. "How could she do that to me? How? What did I do? Why am I paying for it?" Dan asked the world.

"There there Buddy," said Caddy, not knowing what else to say. "I don't think she meant to do it to you Dan. I think she did it for her and you are just collateral."

They sat there for two minutes, Dan's heaving slowing and Caddy just holding his friend.

Eventually, Dan pushed Caddy off him, and looked into Caddy's earnest face, full of concern, and suddenly he just started giggling. Caddy smiled broadly back at him, and Dan started laughing. After a moment, Caddy joined in. The two of them laughed for the next minutes, before slowly recovering.

Caddy went back to sit down in his desk and pulled out a bottle of vodka, grabbed two shot glasses from the same draw and poured two shots. "Good. Right, glad we got that out of the way," he said. "Here's to the future, without any crying in it, ok? I already have kids, I don't need another one. We are friends, but I am NOT tucking you in at night."

Dan went to Sandra's place on Thursday. She apologized again to him on opening the door, and that night, he spent most of the night with his face wedged firmly between her thighs. The night was interesting for Dan because unlike previous evenings, this time Sandra guided him. She gave him pointers, stressed that every woman was different and pointed out her own reactions to what he was doing. Dan learned about back arches, the type and quality of moans, about skin temperature, pulse rates, and how if a woman uses her fingers on herself while he was actively doing things to her, it meant one of two things; either she was bored and getting herself off, or she was loosing control of her own desires and helping herself get off unconsciously. The former was death for the dedicated cocksman, but the latter just meant you were stampeding in the right direction.

Dan learned about deft touches, about breathing on a vagina instead of rushing straight to the clitoris, and he learned that there were as many ways to use a tongue as there were different punches to use in a boxing ring.

By the end of the night, Dan looked like he'd had whipped cream applied to his face and had both tongue and jaw ache, and Sandra had cum at least four times. He also had scratches under the hair at the back of his head where she'd grabbed his face and pushed him into her pussy during one very violent climax.

The one thing that surprised Dan was that she kissed him, hard, once he was done. She even licked his face. He pulled back, and bit surprised and she smiled at him and said, "Darlin', this is the least Ah can do. That was GREAT. You are learning."

She showed him out after letting him wash his face and wash his mouth out and then giving him a bottle of diet coke. "Come back next week, final exam. Ah shall expect A+ yah here? So study up!"

And then it was the last week. The last week Dan didn't hear from Caddy. He called twice but was told that Caddy was out of the office and he'd get back to him. He shrugged and went back to the gym.

By now, Dan was free of almost all fat. There was still a tiny bit of a spare tire, but it was only visible from certain postures. He was a true thirty-four inch waist. He looked pretty damn good and he'd even sprung for a body waxing, something he'd never do again once he'd had it done, since it hurt So Much. It was nice to be smooth, and he knew he looked good, but he also knew that you had to keep it up and there was no way he was going through that amount of pain again. How women do Brazilian waxes he had no idea. The little oriental woman who was recommended to him cackled every time she ripped off another piece of what looked like fly paper and it was all Dan could do not to jump off the couch and clock her.

Dan had his last appointment with Sandra. This time she was wearing a short black cocktail dress and high heels and a black choker, with dark makeup and bright red lipstick when she opened the door.

She literally said nothing, arched and eyebrow at him and went inside. Dan followed, closing the door.

"Screwdriver?" she asked. Dan nodded. The apartment somehow seemed smaller and he didn't know why.

"So, last session," said Sandra, as she handed him the drink. "Nervous?"

Dan frowned, "Should I be?"

"No, no reason. Just idly wondering. So. How do you feel about all you've been through?" Sandra asked.

"What, you mean coming here?" replied Dan.

"Well, not just that. I mean the whole journey. It's been a heavy four months from what I understand?"

Dan sat there, looking at his drink, thinking both about the past months and also that Sandra seemed to be very well informed, as well as very nosey.

Sandra smiled at him. "Nosey broad eh?" she said. "Dan, it might interest you to know that Ah have a phD in psychiatry. Ah just do the sex thing because, well, Ah like sex. Ah might as well get paid for it. But don't be fooled. A good escort is part sex doll and part bartender. She listens and says the things the man needs to hear just as much as she makes him squirm. A good escort feeds a man's ego as much as she milks his cock. And Ah'm very good at both – you've never been on the receiving end of a real charm offensive from me, and be thankful for it. If you had, what little of your vows you take seriously would be done. You have no idea of what Ah'm capable of, young man. You also have no idea how much Greg is paying me for these services."

Dan choked on his drink. Sandra smiled broadly at him. Cleverly, Dan said, "ummm ... well, I guess I dodged a bullet there."

Sandra licked her lips slowly, savoring it. Dan hastily took another swig of his drink and found he'd already finished it.

"So, Tiger, are you ready for the final exam? Ah want to see if you can read my body like we talked about?"

Dan nodded, dumbly, as Sandra stood up. She came over to him and took his hand and pulled him up.

"Right there studly. From now on, you are in the driving seat. Make me squirm, sugar."

And something went off inside Dan. He literally just grabbed Sandra and pushed her against the wall, kissing her hard, and then pinning her to the wall. One hand went into her panties, roughly, and he stuck his fingers inside her with no preamble. She was wet. Very wet.

He kissed her neck and felt her body move and arch into him. She moaned softly and said, "Good start stud."

And with that, Dan stepped back away from her, examining her. She was flush, her neck red, her breathing heavy and eyes dilated.

Dan smiled and said, "I graduate. I don't need to fuck you to know I could and that you want it. Night Sandra. Thanks for giving me the confidence and everything."

Sandra just breathed heavily and said nothing as Dan walked out of the room and the apartment.

Four days later, and it was Monday. Dan got up early, took a shower and then took The Suit down. He took a deep breath and then tried it on. It fit. Barely, but it fit. His arms were actually larger than Greg's and as such the suit jacket was slightly tight if he bulged his biceps. But otherwise, it was a perfect fit, even on the neck. He spent an hour just sitting in it and looking at himself in the mirror.

No double chin. Hair cut. Straight Jaw. Perfect body trim, and with the shirt unbuttoned, his gleaming and smooth pectorals just peaked out. He tried the suit with a skin tight T-shirt and found it worked just was well with that, which was good because he'd bought three of them in different colors.

He let himself out of the apartment and knocked heavily on Greg's door as he passed and then went down to the gym, which was still deserted. He grabbed a couple of practice gloves and put them on as he climbed into the ring.

Greg arrived ten minutes later, looking recently woken. He was going from room to room, looking for Dan. When he saw him, in The Suit, wearing gloves and leaning against the ropes of the ring, watching for him, he smiled and pushed open the door to the boxing room.

"Aren't we full of ourselves today? You look good. The suit works on you."

Dan tilted his head and said, "I need to say thanks for this. I could never have done this alone. Your ability to train is to be commended. But be that as it may, you ready for some lessons in politeness and etiquette? Because you fucking need them."