Copyright© 1994-2003

"Said a pornographistic young poet
'Although I perhaps do not show it,
My interest in sin
Is wearing quite thin,
And I'll soon tell those fuckers to stow it.'"
-author unknown

Jan was not overly attractive. Nor was she someone I would have normally taken a passing notice in, except, I had been friends, and partners, with her husband for several years. Every woman I have ever met, I have to consider the pros and cons of a sexual relationship with her. It didn't matter if she was beautiful or ugly, I always wondered how I would go about seducing and enjoying the woman's body. Jan had been no different.

Spending long hours with the two of them, I always took notice of every little detail about her. Jan often worked out and had strong powerful legs, which were also smooth and shiny clean. She had small pointy breasts that rarely saw anything but a sports bra, so I often noticed the extra movement beneath a loose shirt. She had short blond hair, crew cut on the sides and a bit longer at the top, highlighting her long flawless neck. Jan also had small feet and hands, an average waist, small ankles, flat stomach, and a large happy smile.

Along with her husband, over the years, we had also become friends. Yet there was always the thought that I would like to possess her someday. It was unrealistic, and something I never tired of bringing about. I am patient and a time will come when I "know" that the time is right. Over several years, it didn't happen.

My marriage broke up, yet Jan still remained friends with my ex-wife, as the four of us used to be inseparable. I didn't mind so much, just that when my partner and I got together Jan would not be there as often. I had come to enjoy chatting with her. Also the few ladies in my life that she had met, she rarely approved of, either of me or them. You see, Jan had married as a virgin, strictly religious, and was totally committed to her husband, my friend.

Guys are strange, I'll admit, and when my chance did come, I chose my sexual desires over my friend. How so? Well, he landed in jail, and I was the only one with the "evidence" to have him released.

That in itself wasn't what caused me to propose sexual intimacy with Jan, but a combination of several factors. For one, I was one of the people her husband had tried to welch on. Strictly a white collar crime. But we had made large amounts of cash over the years and I would have given him a break, if only Jan hadn't come to my office that fateful day.

Her eyes and voice revealed her desperation. Perhaps she had even been crying recently. I did realize she was puzzled why I didn't treat her as I always have, as a close friend. And I sat behind my desk, emotionally and physically cut off from her. She would have guessed it was because her husband had "screwed" me, but she would have been wrong.

I appraised her that quiet afternoon, as she sat before my desk. I openly let my eyes study her curves. She was dressed in a long tan skirt, with a black silk blouse and black heels. No nylons or handbag, as was normal. I was disappointed to notice that her breasts were encased in a dark thin bra, something she rarely did.

She became uncomfortable, obviously noticing my hungry gaze as well as the silence. Jan had politely come into my office and sat down, and after I listened to her quiet pleas and the reasons, she said, that I should help her hubby, I put my phone on "Do Not Disturb" which also protected my office from intrusions. That was when I viewed her openly, knowing that I had something she wanted, something that meant her whole life. Her husband, "for better or for worse". I had been her friend, and I knew the depth those words had meant to her.

"He screwed me and you want me to help him get off?" I tried to put sincerity in my voice. Before she could again recite the reasons I should help him, I interrupted, "I can't think of one thing that would convince me to help him." I watched her eyes, knowing that a person's soul can be read by the simple translation of a gaze.

"It must have been a mistake, any loss you took will be returned. I promise..." She didn't actually know, or understand, what her husband had done - exactly what I wanted. She only knew he was facing a lengthy prison sentence and only I had the key to get him out. "Whatever it takes!" She sounded near hysterical; her concern was that I would not be swayed and she would forever have a husband that was, or had been, in jail.

"There is one thing." I didn't phase it as a question, rather I said it simply and then purposely looked down upon her gleaming smooth crossed legs.

She gulped, then spoke, real fear in her voice at the expected answer to her question: "What will it take?"

I spent a full long minute gazing upon those calves and ankles, wondering if they would look as good straight up in the air next to my face. She shifted in her chair. "I think you know, Jan."