Jenny was depressed. Her husband had been out of work for quite some time now. Bills were piling up. He had been in a very lucrative career for many years. He had been a government employee with the Foreign Service. He got it because he had a degree in management and had been wounded in the first Iraqi war. Now with the big recession and less tax income, the government had to cut back. Her husband, Joe, had been a suspected whistle blower over the Benghazi incident. Since they had to cut back, retributions were in order. A man in a wheelchair who is a veteran has an easy time getting a job in government, but in private practice it is much harder.

Jenny had tried to start her own business for catering. She was a good chef. She could make all kinds of pastry. She was known for her chocolate roses, chocolate covered strawberries, carved honeydew melons, carved watermelons and all kinds of fancy garnishes. They were no expensive to buy, but time consuming to make. She had learned most of it on the internet, watching videos.

Her banker had called the two of them in for a meeting. Joe couldn't make it. The handicap accessible van had been a government car for his use. All they had now was the old Volkswagen, Burt, a 1972 Beetle. She and her father had completely restored it when she was a teenager. It had been used for special occasions until now. Since their other cars had been repossessed, this was all they had.

Jenny rolled out from under the thing and yelled: "Try it now." Her fourteen year old daughter, Dakota, hit the remote starter switch. It hummed like a clock. Jenny pulled the remote starter switch off and tightened the bolt holding the distributor in place. The manual said 8° of advance, but it ran better at about 20°. "I don't know what that means to advance it that far." She thought but didn't know what else to do.

Jenny peeled off her coveralls and threw them in the back seat along with her small metric tool box. Never know when I might need them again, she thought.

Jenny was apprehensive that the meeting might be important, since Sam the bank president was in charge of their mortgage. He had repossessed their cars when she would not respond to his advances. This was a little different. She wanted to dress very modestly, but her fourteen year old daughter had taken over.

Dakota's perception of life was that everything could be solved with tasteful clothing and correct makeup. The life of a naive fourteen year old was so wonderful she thought, wistfully.

Reluctantly, she had allowed her daughter to pick her clothes. Dakota pulled out some dark suede high heeled boots that zipped up the sides and stopped just below her knees. She had picked out a long dark gray silk dress that fit her like a glove. The dress was sleeveless and shown her tanned and toned arms beautifully. If that was her best feature, that would have been enough. But as the commercials often say; "But there's more." Beneath that long silk dress were the most magnificent long legs in captivity. Jenny's years of competitive running and jogging after college left her with muscle tone of a teenager. Her features of her face were maybe the best part of her. Although her body had the tone of a younger Sarah Jessica Parker, her face had the features of Demi Moore. Even at the age of forty, she could have passed for her daughter's sister. They both had long reddish brown hair to their waists. They both had slim torsos and medium melon sized breasts.

To Dakota, her mom was her dress-up doll. She would dress her mother in the clothes she liked most whether her mom liked them or not. All in all, Jenny never would have dressed herself the way her daughter did, but she didn't really mind the effect at all. If she was ever criticized for her selection of clothes, she could always say: "well, my daughter set this out for me. This was all I had.' In reality, nobody ever said anything.

Before she left, Dakota sat her mother in a chair with her head over the back. They chatted and giggled about silly things as Dakota braided her mother's long red hair into a French braid. She started at the top and gradually added in more as she went down her neck. When she was done, she rolled it into a bun and put an aluminum clip in it to hold it up. Jenny looked magnificent.

Before she could stand, Dakota came around in front of her and unbuttoned several buttons until it gapped up to above her knees. "Sophisticated but sexy' was her daughter's analysis.

Jenny got into Burt and hummed down to the bank. The car was running great. Sam was inadvertently looking out the front window when Jenny drove up. As the Volkswagen door opened, he caught a glimpse of her getting out. The unbuttoned part of her dress had risen up past mid thigh; almost to her lap as she turned to get out. "Holy Mother of God" Sam said to himself.

Sam hurried back to his office. He had been expecting her, but wanted to appear nonchalant. When his secretary announced Jenny's appearance, he told her to come in. Jenny shivered at his presence.

She was vaguely aware that he had been a tight end for the Chiefs for many years, and that he was a majority shareholder in the bank. Even not knowing what she did, it would be hard not to suspect that this six foot six inch tall man had not ever been an athlete. Even the white shirt, tie and grey suit could not hide the fact that he had bulging muscles and could probably still play.

"Hello Mrs. Jenkins. How are you?" he began. They made small talk about the weather and families. "Mrs. Jenkins I have a problem. You have a very expensive house that your bank statements and tax returns can't support. We have given you too much time on your mortgage. You are so far behind I don't see how you can ever catch up. You have drawn down on your husband's retirement account. You are in big trouble. What do you propose to do about it/"

Jenny's ears turned red. She stammered trying to come up with a good reply. "I think when the economy turns around my husband will get his job back. I think we can catch up then." She replied.

"What will you do until then?" he asked.

I have a catering business I think if things go well, it will take care of us. We will at least no fall any farther behind." She replied, trying to convince herself more than Sam.

Sam had access to all of her financial records and credit rating. He knew that she was struggling with the business. Several big accounts had not paid her. She had the bills for the inventory, but no payment. She had a shot, but he knew he had her over a barrel.

"Mrs. Jenkins, I have some other businesses I am a silent partner in. I have a private club that is having a reception Saturday night. Why don't you go with me there tonight to see what you would charge and get a feeling of what you can do? A trip there will give you an idea of the space you can use and all that stuff. I would be willing to give you about $ 10,000.00 for the party. I think if we have chicken wings, barbecue, potato salad and watermelon that would get it. What do you think?'

Jenny was trapped. She didn't want to have anything to do with the huge black man. On the other hand, he had her over a barrel. She couldn't say no. In addition to that, she couldn't turn down that much money. She had never had more than $2,000.00 for a party, and to make things worse, they had stiffed her.

"I'll pick you up at ten o'clock tonight; at your place." He said. "C ... c ... can't ... I ... i ... meet you somewhere else?" she stammered. "Of course not. Do you expect somebody my size to fit in your Volkswagen? Sam laughed. He thanked her for the visit and walked her out to her car, making small talk as they went. Sam opened the door for her and watched her get in. There was no modestly way for her to get in with him holding the door. She would have preferred to hold her own door; turn; slide in and slam the door behind her.

Instead, Sam opened the door and held it there. He extended his hand to help her lower her in. She had no option but to gather her dress and pull it up as she slid in. The unbuttoned portion came almost to her crotch as she re-arranged her feet to the gas and clutch pedals. She reached for the door, but Sam held it until she had the car started. There is no modest way for a woman in a very short dress to drive a car with a manual transmission. Jenny's face flushed as she endured his lascivious stare.

Jenny drove home, not sure of what she had just done. She told her husband about the meeting, hoping he would say: "tell him to go to hell." Joe just looked down at his feet and said: "Well we need the money. You might as well go." But Joe, why so much money?"

Joe had a good idea, but they needed the money, so he played ignorant. When 9:30 came, Jenny heard a car in the drive. She went to answer the door and tried to close it behind her, without letting him in. "I think I need to meet your husband while I'm here." He said.

Reluctantly the embarrassed woman showed him in, not really wanting her husband to know she was going somewhere socially with a black man who was also their banker.

"Sam walker." The gigantic man said as he extended his immense hand. "Joe Jenkins." Her husband replied as Sam sat down. "Mr. Jenkins, you and your wife have some huge mortgage payments. On top of that her new business has incurred some huge debts. I am just trying to help out. I am planning a small banquet this Saturday. I can use some catering and I think your wife could use the business. Is that o.k. with you?"

"I have no objection to my wife's work. She is a good caterer and will do a good job with whatever you ask her to do." Her husband replied.

"Joe; have you ever heard of Guinevere's?" Joe had but Jenny had not. Joe nodded his head in alarm. "Joe; Guinevere's is a gentlemen's club. We have a very upscale clientele and we have a very upscale set of entertainers. I do not want to have you find out after the banquet and feel you have been misled about the party. Is your daughter around?'

"Dakota has gone to spend the night at a friend's house." Her mother said apprehensively.

"Good; before we get started there are a few things you need to know about the banquet. I like the pictures I've seen on your website about the wonderful garnishes; the melons, strawberries, carved ice and all that stuff. I'm willing to pay for that, but this is more than just a banquet. We have some very beautiful women. Your wife is no exception. Your wife is going to have to dress accordingly. Do either of you have any objections?"

Joe thought about it. "No, he didn't care how his wife dressed. She had some pretty provocative clothes she had been using lately; but he had kept his mouth shut." Jenny looked over at her husband; quietly outraged that he was not standing up for her.

"Mrs. Jenkins; my hostesses are beautiful women. I do not know for certain what you look like. Would I be rude to ask you to take off the dress you have?" Sam said in a very soft voice.

Jenny's ears turned beet red. Her heart almost stopped. Surely Joe would explode out of his wheelchair and strangle this man. Joe looked over at his wife. Their eyes met briefly before Joe lowered his. "Well, we are desperate for money and it sounds like a handsome offer..."

Joe had abandoned her.

Hearing no objections from either, Sam waited for a while. The silence seemed to go on forever. "Well, Mrs. Jenkins, I think you owe me a dress." He said as he held out his hand. Jenny held her hands over her mouth in shock as she stared over at her husband. "How could you?" she mouthed in disbelief at her husband. He did not respond.

"Stand up Mrs. Jenkins." Sam felt it would be easier for her to follow more gradual commands. Jenny stood. He had succeeded partially.

"Now, unbutton the dress." He said, trying to break it down rather than overwhelm her with the entire concept.

Jenny reached for the bottom of her dress. She lifted the dress; exposing quite a bit of her long tanned legs so she could reach the lowest button. Slowly she opened one button at a time, like a robot. Sam could see the beautiful tan that stopped at the edge of her black lace panties. They were so sheer; he could see that she was partly shaven.

When she got to the top and pulled apart the last button, she held desperately to the garment to keep it from opening. "Give me the dress, Jenny."

Jenny wiped her face to keep the tears from ruining the little makeup she had. "What a silly concept;" she thought to herself. "Here I am undressing in front of my husband and a stranger and I am concerned about my makeup?" Jenny arched her back and slid the garment over one shoulder; then the other. She pulled it around in front of herself where she struggled with handing it over to the stranger. She had no choice but to take a few steps from where she was standing to be close enough to Sam to give it to him. She crossed her hands in front of herself in a ridiculous attempt at modesty. The bra and panties hid almost nothing. The quarter cups barely made it past her nipples. It was obvious they were pink.

"Your choice, Mrs. Jenkins; the panties or the bra; which one?"

Jenny was humiliated. Now it was her initiative? She had the choice of taking off either one. She was not willing to take off either. "What the fuck kind of a choice was this?" Jenny's ears and cheeks were burning. She had to arch her head and shoulder back to reach for the clasp. Her nipples thrust upward as though she was flaunting them at them as she humiliatingly un-snapped the clasp. The elastic fabric seemed to explode away from her. She was able to trap it between her arms and sides to keep it over her breasts as she raised her hands for cover. The garment hung uselessly between her breasts and cupped hands as she struggled for the next command she knew was coming.

She looked over at her husband in despair as she extended her bra-filled hand to hand it to Sam. She kept her other hand across both breasts, but it just made her look like she had two pink-eyed puppies trying to get out.

"Next" Sam repeated as he held the bra up against his nose and inhaled the perfume and talc powder.

Jenny might as well have been trying to lift a two-foot section of railroad track as she moved her hands to her sides. To do so, she had to bare her breasts. Her black lace panties were high in the front. They came almost to her belly button; but certainly above her hip bond. The back was a full panel. The front and back were joined by a tiny bit of elastic. It made her already incredibly long legs seem even longer.

She hooked her trembling thumbs over the elastic at her sides and struggled with thought racing through her mind. "I can't do this.' Her mind screamed at her. Jenny tried to think about the $10,000.00 and what it could do for her family. That was the only rationale she could think of as she slid the garment down her thighs. It fell freely for a short distance and caught on the top of her boots.

Sam leaned forward and held her hands as she tried to raise one foot at a time to step out of them. "Pick them up and hand them to me." He whispered. Jenny could see her tears puddle on the floor as she leaned over to pick up the flimsy garment. With a red face, she extended her hand and passed it over to him.

Sam grabbed the extended hand and guided her over to the leather sofa where he sat. Jenny stood; trembling in her humiliation. She could not cover everything. Sam guided her hands so they hung at her sides. Her abdomen wretched with embarrassment at standing naked in front of this stranger.

Sam starred in wonder. Her vagina had been shaved so that there was a token "landing strip" configuration above her slit. Below that she was bare. Her pouty cleft was an alabaster white. Her toned and tanned legs and abdomen framed that sweet smelling smooth vagina, which in turn focused his eyes on the little nub of clitoris that looked like a very tiny penis folded pleated inside her cleft.

Although Jenny had the forlorn look of an abandoned house, her nipples and vagina had a composure and demeanor of their own; neither humble nor modest; more arrogant and proud than the physique that bore them. Jenny was a sexual dichotomy, like a flame and a moth. She had the looks to rule the world and it was killing her to have it. All her life she had received so much unwanted attention, yet it was also her key to success if she only wanted it.

"Does she give good blowjobs, Joe?" Joe was silent. Either answer was not acceptable. Jenny's mind seemed to explode as she absorbed the words. "What the fuck do I have to do for this Catering?" Tears flowed as she looked up at Sam and then over at her husband. "Wasn't he going to protest at some point?"

"Well we need the money. I guess she has to learn at some point." He said while looking down at the ground. "You fucking pig" she screamed to herself.

Sam got up. He picked up Jenny's hand and walked to the door. He took a full-length wool cape that must have belonged to Jenny's daughter. Jenny looked over at horror to her husband as he draped it over her shoulders. Jenny did not have to look down to know it did not have any buttons. It was a light, full length garment. She would be fine when she walked, but it might be pretty revealing if she had to sit.

Sam walked out holding Jenny's hand like two teenagers in love. Jenny walked out to the car in the drive. It was a red 1960 Carroll Shelby Cobra. Sam opened the passenger door. Jenny sat and pivoted herself in. It had a five-point safety harness. Sam adjusted the lap belt over her waist and cinched it down. He pulled the shoulder harnesses together and cinched them down. Sam dropped to his knees and reached under the seat. He pulled out the strap that came up between her legs and locked into the lap belt.