Chapter 4

Author: I'm aware there are formatting problems and I'm working to fix them.

Carole smiled as she climbed into bed beside us. But it was apparent from her eyes that she had been crying.

"What's wrong, honey?"

"I messed up, I feel so stupid."

"How so?"

"When AI asked me what physical changes I'd like for my makeover, I just said I'd like to be prettier."

"Well, I guess you are. I wouldn't know ... always thought you were plenty cute, anyway. So what's the problem?"

"I'm still fat."

"Before we talk about that, take off your nightie. Remember when I said 'My Room, My rules'? All women in my bed must be naked." She quickly complied.

I leaned back and surveyed her.

"I don't think you're fat. You're a little chubby. Are you saying you weren't chubby when you were this age, before?"

"Yes, I was. But it didn't really bother me too much then."

"Then why's it bother you now?"

"Look at these other girls," she wailed. "They're skinny."

"I think you're beautiful." I replied. "So you have a little belly, I like a little belly on my women. Ask Sarah."

Sarah stepped right up. "Yes, I remember Jason saying he thought a little pooch was sexy."

That was nice of her, but Sarah had always been supportive of my quirks and people I liked, she went even further.

"Did you ever think Jason was taking advantage of you?"

Carole was quiet then shook her head. I was relieved, though it had been clear to me from the beginning that ours was a mutually beneficial relationship.

Carole's Story I was running a project to set up a new IT connectivity system for our corporate clients, the goal being 'better faster cheaper'' and Carole was assigned to my little task group as technical documenter.

Since I was as much engineer as project manager, I'd already written up the technical specs and protocols as well as a documentation outline. It was Carole's job to make it readable enough for the Telecom guys to work with.

This was pretty much her only assignment at the moment and I was just off a major rollout so this was a relatively down time for me. So we spent a lot of time in those small conference rooms primarily used for this sort of thing and with doors and walls so there wouldnt be many distractions.

We did a lot of chatting about pretty much everything and I found that unlike her exterior appearance she was pretty much a free spirit ... or considered herself such, which is even better if you know what I mean.

On first take, you would think dumpy, mousy librarian type. She was a scant five feet tall and seemed slightly chubby, with a pleasant round face, apparently nice B cup boobs and rounded ass but assembled in a too compact package for most guys' tastes. By that I mean she would have been a real eyecatcher at the same weight and measurements but 6 inches taller.

Not to mention her style of dress. I have no idea why she dressed down ... whether it was her own body image or the desire to look professional but I found not too much later it was not exactly 'what you see is what you get'.

With every start of a relationship, there's a catch line ... meaning something used as a 'hook'.

Carole's was an all-time classic. I've only been approached with one that was better:

"Peguin and I have talked about moving to New Mexico and starting a brothel."

Now, you can understand why there was a sort of pregnant pause in our conversation.

That simple sentence was loaded with possibilities and certainly my brain went into high gear. How do I respond to that!

I decided to play it straight ... couldn't hurt to delay the obvious shift in subject matter from the casual to personal and it would help me figure out how to make an approach if I decided to.

"Really? That's sure unusual!"

I went on to ask what made her think that was a good idea and what she saw as her role in the venture.

She replied that both she and her friend loved sex and had supervisory experience.

Neither planned to be among the working staff but would if the need arose.

"I read that call girls have specialties. Do you have one and what is it?" I figured that was a safe question ... better than pointing out she wasn't exactly Reeperbahn Window material.

She thought a bit and replied "I suppose it would be fellatio. I'm told I'm pretty good at it."

Now that was reasonable and down to earth, reality wise. I liked it. I laughed a little.

"I don't know I would make a good customer, " I said. "Blow jobs don't work for me."

"Really? Why not?"

"Because I get to right at the top where I'm ready to orgasm ... and just sort of stay there. It hurts."

She gave me a concerned look. "Really? Why do you think that is?"

I admitted I had no idea. "Anyhow, I would rather make my deposit where it should be."

I winked.

At that point I was sure this was going to be a nice little adventure so I just said I wanted to talk about it more with her but we should finish up for the day.

I needed time to mull over her possible motives, she already knew I was married and a family man. I didn't want to lead her on ... nor did I want a repeat of the 'Lucy' affair, where the girl used me for leverage in her job.

When we got up from the table I took her hand and gave it a lingering squeeze and told her how much I enjoyed the conversation and was looking forward to the next time.

Over the next week, we didn't see each other but spoke on the phone several times.

These conversations were fairly open if somewhat guarded. While email was pervasive in our company we agreed on the phone that there would be no references to our personal discussions on email.

Good counsel as some people got in a little trouble for personal use of email.

Including content of the same category.

Instead, we traded private thoughts as text files on micro-floppy. Along with what we saw as personal fantasies, I gave her a couple of 'erotic stories' I had written. Since they were essentially 'True Stories' I got a warmy glow out of imagining her reading them.

The next time we met...

"Wow. That story about Sarah was exciting. You are a sensualist, aren't you!"

I had to think about that a bit but it was true.

"That's okay ... what counts is your attitude toward the person you're with. I've known several guys that were - or acted - romantic as could be, but turned out to not think much of women."

I nodded.