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A Most Surprising Date

Part 1

A Most Surprising Date

by Ashley B. D. Zacharias


When Felicity answered the door, Roy was surprised by what she was wearing. This was not the first time that she had surprised him.

The first time had been two weeks ago when she had given him her phone number. He had invited researchers from a number of local companies to his laboratory to discuss his grant application for the development of new human-robotic interfaces. She had entered the room in the company of three engineers from the Barton Kinematics Group so he assumed that she was part of their team. She had not said a single word, but from the moment that he sat down until the meeting ended, she had maintained almost constant eye contact with him across the boardroom table. He had assumed that she was just part of strategy. The Barton engineers had been arguing that he should develop an interface that clearly favored their latest product and would disadvantage their competitors. Their model had some good characteristics not surprising since they had already based their most successful product on it and he had had to fight valiantly for a more neutral model that would allow more competition in the marketplace but would still be worthy of their support. He had assumed that Barton, expecting a tough fight, had brought a beautiful woman along to flirt with him across the table on the oft chance that she could distract them. It had almost worked; Roy had had a hell of a time keeping his mind on the details of the two competing models.

She had said not a word, but as everyone was leaving, she had slipped a piece of paper into his hand and had whispered, softly, “Please call me at home soon.” That was considerably more distraction than was required or expected. In fact, the head of Barton research team, the redundantly named, Tom Thomas, had appeared somewhat taken aback to see the young woman pressing close to him and whispering intimately into his ear. For a moment, the thought had occurred to him that maybe she was some kind of industrial spy, but he shrugged that idea off. He might be a university professor, but he was worldly enough to know not to discuss proprietary information with anyone who had not been straightjacketed with the most constrictive possible non-disclosure agreement.

When he had phoned her the next day, she had surprised him a second time when she had suggested that he come to dinner at her place rather than going out somewhere. That seemed inappropriately intimate for a first date and he had almost balked but she had bluntly told him that her invitation was strictly personal. She did not want him to get the wrong idea just because she had met him at a business meeting. She said that she didn't normally attend research planning meetings but had gone to his only so that she would have a general idea about what was happening. She insisted that she didn't give a damn which model he wanted to develop if his grant was approved. With that assurance, he had agreed to let her cook dinner for him. She had taken his number and then called back yesterday to give him her address and exact time.

In the meeting, she had been wearing a conservative navy business suit with a pale beige blouse and low, practical heels. Now, she had answered her door in rather different attire. When she turned to step back from the door, he appraised her from from the floor up. She was wearing black patent stiletto-heeled pumps over black boldly-patterned stockings with a seam up the back. He black miniskirt did not cover the clips where her garter belt held up the tops of the stockings there was a reason that miniskirts did not become the fashion until after pantyhose was invented. When she turned back toward him, he could see that her white silk blouse that was so sheer and tight that he could see her pink nipples pressing against the material. No bra constrained her full, round breasts.

He wondered if she was a junior engineer looking for romance on a Saturday night or a call girl on assignment? The thought of industrial espionage flashed into his mind again. This new millennium Mata Hari was going to be sorely disappointed. There was some value in his research on human-robot interfaces, but it was not all that secret or important.

“Don't just stand there enjoying at the view, come on in,” she said, smiling coyly.

He blushed to realize that he had been standing on her threshold, staring at her, speechless, for much too long. He told himself that if she were going to dress like a sex object, then she should expect to be appreciated as a sex object, but that logic did not trump the deeply-ingrained social taboo against staring at women's tits and drooling. This was no way to start a relationship with a nice girl.

Then, when he was inside the apartment, he was surprised yet again; and this time, not so happily. He heard low voices coming from the other room. Male-sounding voices.

She pulled him gently inside, reached up and kissed him lightly with soft lips slightly parted, holding the kiss for long enough to imply that there was much more to come. “Mmm,” she murmured. “You taste good.”

Was she saying that just to make sure that he understood the promise that she had imparted with her perfect kiss?

She took the bottle of wine from his limp hand and led him through a simply but nicely furnished living room into a dining room.

Again a surprise. The round dining table was set for four; two other men were already seated at their places. They looked at him with expressions of ill-masked displeasure.

“Stan, Timothy, this is Roy,” Felicity said. “He is the third player in our game tonight.”

“Game?” Stan asked, frowning darkly.

“Not really a game. More like an experiment. There's only a couple of ground rules. Not enough structure to really be called a game. It'll be a kind of interesting life experience for all of us. We'll talk about the details when we eat. First, let me get dinner on the table. Roy, you sit here.” She gestured to one of the empty chairs. “I'll be right back.”

Roy shrugged and sat down, ignoring glares from the other two men. “What's up?” he asked casually.

“I don't know,” Stan replied. “I was invited here for dinner. I expected to be dining with Felicity alone.”

“Me, too,” Timothy volunteered.

“How do you know her?” Roy asked.

“I met her at Starbucks last week,” Stan replied. “I was minding my own business, arranging a deal on my Blackberry and, as soon as I hung up, she started talking to me. She didn't tell me much about herself. She just gave me her number and asked me to call her. Before I could chat her up, she said that she had to get back to work and left the store.

“So you don't know her any better than me,” Roy replied.

“How do you know her?” Stan asked.

“Almost the same story, but it was after a business meeting. I had never met her before. She gave me a card and asked me to call.” He looked at the third man at the table, “Do you know anything about her?”

The man who had been introduced as Timothy shook his head. “My story is about the same as yours. I was working out at the gym last Sunday and she came up to me when I was cooling down and gave me her number. She wasn't wearing sweats and I'd never seen her there before so I think she came as a guest.”

Roy nodded thoughtfully. Timothy looked like a gym rat. He wasn't an over-developed body-builder; he looked like a real athlete under his off-the-rack polyester suit. Stan, on the other hand, had more of a vice-president-of-sales look. His suit was properly tailored and, from it's slight sheen, Roy guessed that it was probably a blended silk-wool worsted that would be light and comfortable in the summer heat but wouldn't be particularly durable. Stan looked like the kind of guy who wouldn't want to wear a suit for two seasons in a row.

The three men at the table couldn't have been more different from each other. Felicity didn't seem to favor any particular type when choosing men for her group date.

Or maybe she was very particular about getting exactly the right assortment of men for whatever experiment she was planning.

He didn't have long to think about it before she bustled back into the room with plates of food. She set one in front of him and another in front of Stan. Both men waited politely while she went back to the kitchen to retrieve two more plates.

When she sat down, she said, “Okay, gentlemen. Bon appetite.” As soon as she lifted a forkful of mashed potatoes to her lovely lips, the three men dug in themselves.

Each plate was appointed with a half dozen baby carrots, a scoop of mashed potatoes, already dressed with gravy, a slice of roast beef with a spoonful of horseradish next to it, and a large spoonful of cole slaw. Simple, hearty food that was easy to cook and easy to eat.

Roy noted that she had not opened or served the wine that he had brought, nor had she offered drinks of any kind except for the glass of ice water that had already been set at each place.

As soon as the men began eating, Felicity began to speak. “Gentlemen, welcome to my home. I know that you are feeling a little confused right now, so let me explain myself. The situation is simple enough. I recently met each of you and was strongly attracted to each of you. I would like to spend the rest of the evening making love with one of you. This is unusual for me. For the most part, I have had a fairly average sex life. Tonight, though, you will find me rather adventuresome in bed. No reasonable consensual sexual act is off limits, except for group sex. I will be available to only one of you. It's now six o'clock. There's an alarm clock in the living room that's set to ring at seven o'clock. If there is only one man in my apartment when the alarm sounds, I will give him a night that we will both long remember. If there is more than one man here, then I will ask you all to leave and I will spend the night alone and disappointed. That's it. Oh, except for one other thing. I will absolutely not make the decision about which man will spend the night here. In fact, I will not contribute to the decision in any way, direct or indirectly. It is entirely up to you to decide which of you gets me and which ones will leave empty handed. I don't care how you make your decision, only that you make it between now and seven. The clock is ticking, gentlemen, so I suggest you get to work.” She fell silent and began eating her dinner.

The three men sitting at the table looked at each other in shock, the implications of her rules slowly sinking in.

After a minute, Roy looked at Felicity with amusement. He had come prepared to seduce her. Undoubtedly, the other two men had come with exactly the same intention. But, under her rules, seduction was irrelevant; no one had to convince her of anything. She had presented herself as nothing but a passive prize, leaving it up to the men to devise their own game and honor their own rules.

Felicity broke the silence. “Eat up, gentlemen. I hope you like the food because this is all that I have prepared. Dessert won't be served until seven. I will be the dessert and only one of you can partake. But I will do my best to make sure that I'll be the most enjoyable desert that one of you ever had.”

The men ate their food in silence, each thinking about how he might win the prize from the other two.

Roy appreciated the woman's wisdom of not serving alcohol with the meal. A drunken brawl at this point would be a stupendously bad idea.

The meal did not last long. Maybe five minutes, tops. When Felicity began clearing the table, Timothy stood up as well and said, “Okay. This is pretty clear to me. We clear the furniture out of the living room and get to it. Last man standing gets the girl.”

Stan replied, flatly, “And you're sure that you're going to be the last man standing.”

“I can press two fifty.”

“You think you can take both of us together?” Roy asked.

“One at a time would be more reasonable, but I'd give odds that I could take both of you weenies at the same time in a fair fight,” Timothy sneered.

“But can you take on four cops?” Roy asked. “They don't fight fair. They use nightsticks and tasers and handcuffs.”

“Huh?”

“You assault one of us and the other one is going to call nine one one. The cops will have you out of here within an hour and that will give Stan and me lots of time to flip a coin for the girl.”

Timothy flushed with anger. “You pussy. Only an asshole would call the cops on a fair fight.”

“Whatever. Just put the whole free-for-all brawl idea out to pasture. It's not going to happen. The first guy to throw a punch will be the first guy out the door.” Roy glanced at Felicity. Her face was flushed and her eyes were sparkling. Then he glanced at Stan. He was smiling confidently.

There was a minute of silence, then Stan said, “If it's up to us, we can make a rather different decision than the one that she gave us.” He spoke as though Felicity were not in the room; or maybe as though she were an object with no volition of her own. Which was about how she had presented herself. “Her rules don't have to be binding. There's nothing to stop us from deciding to stay and share equally. The only question is who gets which hole first. I think a couple of coin flips will decide that.”

“Oh, no,” Felicity said quickly. “I made that clear. Only one guy gets dessert. The other two get nothing.”

Timothy looked back at her with flat, reptilian eyes. “You don't get to set all the rules, lady. You've had your fun; now we're going to have our own kind of game.”

Stan nodded. “It'll be your word against ours. And, considering that you invited three strange men to your apartment all at the same time, your word won't carry much weight.”

Felicity smiled enigmatically. “It's not about my word, it's simple physics.” She stood and stepped back from the table to give all three men a clear view. To their surprise and joy, she unbuttoned her blouse and shrugged it off. As Roy and the others had already realized, she was not wearing a bra and her breasts, full and round underneath the silk, proved to be wonderfully nubile when exposed to view. He heard Timothy gasp and Stan chuckle softly.

Roy waited for the hammer to fall. She wasn't offering herself to them without a plan.

Her plan was revealed when she unbuttoned, unzipped, and then dropped her miniskirt to her ankles. As Roy had noted, her stockings were supported by a black garter belt. But he had not guessed what she would be wearing in place of panties. He laughed. Felicity was no fool.

“Is that metal panties?” Timothy's voice sounded confused.

“It's a chastity belt,” Roy replied. “Nobody gets into the lady until she unlocks it.”

“Who's got the key?” Stan's calm demeanor had taken a sudden turn to the nasty.

“She's got it herself,” Roy replied. “Contrary to popular myth, medieval ladies were not locked up by their husbands against their will for long periods of time. They locked themselves into the belts during dangerous moments to keep from being raped. They were free to unlock themselves any time they wanted to make love. She's using her chastity belt exactly as intended to protect herself from violent rape.”

Felicity smiled. “To make this perfectly clear. If there's only one man in the apartment at seven o'clock, then I'll give him the key and he can unlock my treasure.” She gestured to the small radial lock that was set into the front of the belt. “If you haven't made a decision by then, the belt stays on until everyone is gone and I can go to bed alone.”

There was another minute of silence while the men thought about the implications of this latest development. Again, it was Stan who broke the spell. This time he addressed the half-naked woman directly. “What if you decide that you don't want any of us and welch on the deal? If only one of us is here at seven, there's nothing to stop you from keeping yourself locked up. Any time you've decided that you've had enough fun for tonight, you can slip away and leave us here with our dicks in our hands. In fact, that may have been your plan from the beginning.”

“I gave you my word that one of you will have me. If you can decide which one, then that one will get the key.”

“Like you said, yourself, words don't count as much as physics.”

She smiled again. “Okay. I'll give you a little more physics to make my promise irrevocable. Come on, boys.” She walked through the arch into the living room. The men followed. Roy looked at the metal strip that passed between her buttocks. It would chafe if she tried to walk too far because it was wide enough to ensure that nobody used her back door without the key. The only orifice that was available was her mouth and that was guarded by her lovely white teeth. He did not doubt that she would Bobbit the man who tried to take her mouth against her will.

In the living room, she retrieved a pile of chain and leather from the mantle and dumped it on the couch. Roy could see that the leather was two wide cuffs. Felicity immediately buckled one cuff about each wrist, threading a metal loop through the straps near the buckle. She threaded the hasp of an open padlock through one end of the short chain. “If one of you gentlemen would be so kind as to lock the chain to my cuffs.”

Stan took the lock and threaded the hasp through the two loops. When he snapped the lock closed, her wrists were locked into the cuffs in front of her and the cuffs were locked together at the end of the chain.

She walked to the far corner of the room. “Now, if one of you would like to hook the last link of the chain to the ceiling.”

Roy looked up and saw that there was a heavy hook screwed into the ceiling above her head. He would bet that there was a hanging plant being stored in a spare room right now. Looking down, he saw a two-step stool next to the wall. She had thought of everything, but the stool was overkill. Timothy was tall enough to reach the ceiling without the stool. When he took the end of the chain, she obligingly raised her arms over her head so that he could reach up and snap the last link over the hook. When she was secured, her hands were held loosely together over her head, elbows bent slightly and breasts pulled upward in a most fetching way.

Timothy took the opportunity to caress those perfect globes. Despite his eagerness to brawl with the other men, he touched the woman with surprising gentleness, giving the impression that he genuinely cared about her feelings. She closed her eyes and moaned softly at his touch, giving every man in the room the impression that she was looking forward to an evening of hot sex.

Roy noted that the hook had a spring-loaded safety latch on it that prevented the chain from slipping back off unless the latch was held open. It would be impossible for Felicity to pull the chain off the hook and she was not tall enough to reach the latch herself. She was trapped until someone released her. Stan kicked the step-stool away just to be certain that she could not hook it with her foot and pull it closer.

“The key to the padlock is on the mantle,” she said. “I trust that you will release me after I tell you where to find the key to the chastity belt.”

Roy certainly would unlock her. She would be a lot more fun lying on her back or bent over a table than standing in the corner with her arms stretched over her head. The other two men had undoubtedly already reached exactly the same conclusion.

“Okay, guys, let's get down to business,” Stan said. “How are we going to decide who gets the maiden and who goes home frustrated?”

“Draw lots,” Roy said.

“Nah,” Stan replied quickly. “I don't want to leave it up to pure chance.”

“Me neither,” Timothy replied.

Roy knew what they were thinking. Stan didn't like the one-in-three odds. He wanted a sure thing. Timothy wanted to lobby for some kind of physical game so that he would have the edge.

“Then what?” Roy asked.

Predictably, Timothy said, “Let's arm wrestle for her. That's what real men would do.”

Roy and Stan replied, simultaneously, “No!”

Timothy laughed. “Wimps.” He turned to the woman hanging in the corner. “You really want to spend the night with one of these chickenshits?”

She smiled but said nothing. It was clear that she was a spectator now. She had finished her part in the game and intended to spend the next hour just watching the fun.

Stan gestured toward the couch and easy chairs. “Let's sit down and discuss this in comfort.”

The three men sat but none of them felt comfortable.

“So how about a game of poker. Winner take all.” He gestured toward the naked women. “She's All.”

The three men looked at the beautiful siren, each feeling more lust than they had ever before felt in their entire lives. The woman was practically in their hands. One of their hands.

The object of their lust looked back at the men impassively, apparently content just to wait and see which one would claim her in the end. Roy had the impression that she had specifically chosen men who were equally attractive to her so that she would have no preference for one over the other.

“I don't know how to play poker,” Timothy said, keeping his eyes on Felicity's lovely breasts.

“Wimp,” Stan replied, turning back to look at the other men and laughing. “It's easy. We'll keep it simple. Five card draw. I can teach you in a couple of minutes.”

Roy shook his head. “We have only about a half hour to decide. If we only play a couple of hands, winning will come down to luck. We'd be no better off than drawing lots. If we try to play a proper game, we won't be finished until ten at the earliest. I've got nothing against playing a game for her, but it'll have to be a game that doesn't take longer than half an hour.”

“Rock, paper, scissors?” Timothy suggested.

“Same as drawing lots,” Stan replied. “Pure luck.”

“I don't want to play games,” Timothy said. “Not gambling games. Maybe find a court somewhere and shoot hoops for her.”

“No time for that, either,” Roy said.

“I know,” Timothy replied, sadly.

The men were silent for another couple of minutes. A clock on the mantle ticked loudly.

Finally, Stan said, “Okay. Tell you what. I'll pay each of you three hundred dollars to get lost. Cash, right now. You can call her back and set up another date some other time and use the money to take her out for a first-rate dinner and a concert or whatever she wants. We can all have her eventually.”

Timothy looked tempted. Roy glanced at the woman to see how she felt about being bought like a side of beef but she continued to look impassive. He looked at her more closely and thought that he detected dry amusement under her poker face. “I'd rather have the woman than the money,” he said. “I'll pay you.”

“I don't need your money,” Stan replied, contemptuously. “How about you, tiger?” He asked Timothy. “You want a quick five hundred in cash, tax free, to walk out that door and not come back?”

He licked his lips. Timothy would not be a good poker player. But he wasn't a complete sucker, either. It occurred to him that five hundred might not be Stan's final offer. “Not for five hundred.”

Roy wondered if Stan would be willing to go as high as a thousand to reduce his odds from one in three to one in two. But Stan had a different idea. “I'll tell you what. It's not about the money. The money is just for a show of good faith. Let's just auction her off. Who ever bids highest gets her and the other two can split the money and then just split. Free enterprise is the American way.”

Timothy grinned. “That sounds good to me.”

“If it's really not about the money, then we shouldn't care who gets it. I say, if she's the one for sale, then she ought to get the money,” Roy replied. “That's true free enterprise.”

That proposal cooled Timothy's jets considerably. “She's giving herself away for free. It's us who lose out, so we ought to be the ones to profit from our loss.”

“How much cash do you have on you?” Roy asked.

“I don't know, exactly. A hundred bucks, maybe,” Timothy answered.

“How about you, Stan?”

“More than that,” Stan admitted.

“So, are you going to take a personal check?” Roy asked.

“I don't think so,” Stan replied. “Anyone can write a check for a million bucks and let it bounce like a rubber ball.”

“So this auction'll come down to whoever has the most money in his pocket right now.”

“That's not fair!” Timothy cried.

“No, it sure isn't,” Roy answered.

The three men sat silently for another couple of minutes. The clock ticked. Felicity shifted her weight restlessly from one foot to the other. Standing for a long time with her arms above her head in those high-heeled pumps couldn't be all that comfortable.

Finally, Roy said, “Okay, this is like some kind of reality game, let's do what they do on television. Let's vote for the winner.”

“Yeah,” Timothy said, enthusiastically. “This is a democracy. Let's vote.”

“You have paper and pens?” Roy asked.

“In the kitchen by the phone,” Felicity said from the corner of the room.

Roy left the living room. “Hey,” he shouted from the kitchen, “I've got to use the can. I'll be back in a few minutes.” The other men waited impatiently, silently watching the mantle clock tick off the time from six thirty-two to six thirty-eight. There was about twenty minutes left when Roy finally returned with three pens and a small notepad. He tore off a sheet for each of the three men, handed them the pens and said, “Okay. It's simple. No voting for yourself. Just write down the name of one of the other two men who you think most deserves an evening of mutual pleasure with the lady in the corner. Let's try to imagine who she might want.”

After a minute, Roy collected the ballots, unfolded them and spread them out on the coffee table. There was one vote for Timothy and two votes for Stan.

“That's it, then,” Stan said, standing up. “It's been interesting. You guys can let yourself out. Be sure to lock the door behind you.”

“Damn,” Timothy said with a tragic look on his face, standing up and starting to walk across the room.

Roy stood up as well, but made no move toward the door. “Not so fast, Stan,” he said. “We have a problem, here.”

Timothy stopped moving and turned to look at Stan and Roy.

“No problem,” Stan replied. “We agreed to abide by the vote. We voted. I won. You leave.”

“The rule was that we couldn't vote for ourselves. Otherwise everyone would vote for  himself and it would have been a three-way split every time. I voted for Timothy. The only way that you could have got two votes is if you got both Timothy's and your own. You voted for yourself so the vote is invalid. It doesn't count.”

“We all agreed to vote,” Stan argued, “But not voting for yourself was just something that you said. We never said that we agreed with it.”

“I agreed with it,” Timothy said, moving toward Stan menacingly, “otherwise I would have voted for myself, too. He's right. The vote doesn't count.”

“So there we are,” Stan said. “I guess we have to vote again.”

The next vote was one for each of them.  Roy had voted for Timothy, Stan had voted for Roy, and Timothy had voted for Stan. Roy was shocked He fully expected that, after Stan had cheated the first time, Timothy wouldn't vote for him on principle. And Roy had already said that he preferred Timothy. That meant that Timothy and Roy should have exchanged votes and Stan provided the majority for one or the other of them. Apparently Timothy had figured that out and decided that Roy did not need his vote, he preferred a standoff to losing if Stan voted for Roy, which he had.

The men stared at the ballots for a long time, as though they could change the outcome just by wishing it. Felicity laughed softly from the corner of the room.

“We could vote again,” Timothy suggested.

“Are you going to change your vote?” Roy asked.

“No.”

“Me neither. It'll be a tie vote every time, now.”

Stan laughed loudly. “Looks like we're snookered, guys.”

Timothy glanced at the clock on the mantle. “Ten minutes to go.”

“Are we just going to wait it out?”

“I don't see what else we can do,” Stan replied. “Short of fisticuffs, I don't see any way out.”

Roy nodded. He understood exactly what Stan meant. They had arrived at the point where all three men would rather see the prize go unclaimed than see one of the other two win. “Look,” he said, “if we're still here when the clock strikes seven then we're all going to feel like fools. Why don't we just leave now and save ourselves the embarrassment of hearing the damn clock ring?”

After another few moments of silence, Stan said, “Yeah. That sounds like the best idea, all right. What about you, Tim? You on board for getting out of here now?”

“Yeah. I'm good with that.”

The three men stood and began walking toward the front door.

“Hey, guys, what about me?” Felicity asked from her corner.

“What about you?” Stan asked.

“Are you going to let me down from here?”

“I don't think so,” Stan replied. “You're so smart, you figure out how to get down. I'm sure that you have another trick up your sleeve.”

“I don't have sleeves,” she said wriggling her arms in their cuffs, her little dance making her naked breasts shimmy most agreeably. “I meant it when I said that I wasn't giving myself any way to keep from being claimed by the winner. I keep my promises.”

Stan shrugged. “It's your game. Too bad that your rules didn't let one of us claim you. Good night.”

Roy looked at her, shrugged, and followed Stan to the front door.

Timothy didn't even look at her when he followed the other two men.

She whimpered miserably at their backs but they were unmoved.

Stan opened the front door and gestured to Roy and Timothy. “After you, gentlemen.”

Roy stopped dead in his tracks, Timothy almost bumping into his back. “After you, Stan. I insist.” He gestured to the open door.

Timothy looked at the two men, suddenly realizing what was happening. “You think that you can get us out of the apartment and then slam the door on us, leaving you alone inside?” he growled.

All three men heard Felicity laughing at them in the living room. Then they heard her say, “This is the Hotel California. You can check out but you can never leave.”

Stan took a step back toward the living room. “I'm gonna pound that bitch.”

Roy put a hand on his shoulder. “I wouldn't advise it. She's a planner. She knows who we are. If she did to you what she did to me, she got your work number so that she could phone back and give you a final time and address?”

“Yeah,” Stan said. “So what?”

“So that means that she made sure that we were who we said we were. I guarantee that she left a letter somewhere with our names and phone numbers on it in case anything happened to her.”

Felicity's voice rang out, “You're a smart man, Roy. Nobody puts anything over on you, do they.”

He laughed and called back, “At least I'm not hanging helpless and almost naked in my living room waiting for someone to discover me.”

“Unlock me and we can all be friends. The key's on the mantle. I can see it from here.”

“Yeah,” Timothy said. “Let's unlock her and then she can do all of us.”

Roy shook his head. “She doesn't mean that kind of friends. She means friends like when your girlfriend breaks up with you and 'friends' is code that means that she doesn't want to fuck you any more.”

Timothy looked wistfully at the doorway that led to the living room, then said, “What the fuck. Let's just get out of here.” He snatched Roy's wrist in his left hand and Stan's in his right. He was quick like a cobra and powerful like a python. Before either of the other men could react, he was pulling both of them through the open front door.

Roy didn't resist. “Come on, Stan. Don't fight it. The game's over.”

Stan pulled but couldn't get his hand back from Timothy. “What the fuck,” he said with a note of resignation and let Timothy lead him out into the hallway. As soon as Stan released the spring-loaded door, it began to close. There was no sense trying to stay inside when Timothy was determined to keep your hand in the hallway. By the time it slammed shut, all three men were outside.

“Is it locked?” Timothy asked.

“Yeah, it locks automatically when it closes. A lot of doors in high rises do that for security,” Stan said.

Timothy tried the knob. It was locked tight.

Roy shrugged. “That's it, then. She wins, we all lose.”

“I hate to lose,” Stan said bitterly.

“Me, too,” Roy said, but added, philosophically, “but at least you didn't have to lose to one of us. It was a rigged game from the start.”

“You got that right.”

The three men rode the elevator down to the lobby and then exited the building together, the outer door also locking behind them.

“You parked on the street?” Roy asked the other men.

“No,” Stan replied, “I parked in the first spot that I found empty. It belongs to someone but I figured that if they weren't using it, then I might as well take it.”

“I got a visitor space,” Timothy replied, looking at Stan with disdain. “There were plenty of open spots.”

Roy said, “Well, I'm parked on the street around the corner. Hope I don't see you guys around.”

“Me, too,” Stan replied.

Roy walked away from the other two men.

A few minutes later, Felicity heard her front door open, heard someone walk in, then heard the door slam shut. She watched Roy walk into the living room. He was alone. “You didn't go the the bathroom, did you?” she said.

“No. I looked around a little. Found your purse by your vanity in your bedroom. I hope you don't mind that I borrowed your keys. I came back to return them as soon as I could.”

“I hoped that you'd win all along, you know. I love a smart man.”

“That was why you chose me,” he said dryly. “Timothy was the strong guy, Stan was the handsome, charming one and I was the smart one.”

“You sounded like a genius in that meeting a couple of weeks ago. That's why I gave you my number.” She rattled the chain that held her in place. “Now, are you going to unlock me so that we can start having some real fun? You've earned it.”

“I'll unlock you in,” he glanced at the clock on the mantle, “another four minutes when the alarm goes off. I won't have won officially until then and, when things are going so well, I'd rather not disturb them.”

“That's smart. I guess I'll just hang around here and wait on your pleasure,” she said with the cutest little pout.

“You know, when I got your keys out of the purse, I had a quick look in your wallet.”

“Naughty boy. Nobody likes a nosey parker.”

“You don't mind if I call you Barbara, do you?”

“That is my name, so you can call me Barbara if you like, but I don't think it sounds nearly as much fun as Felicity.”

“You're a student at Irvine.”

“A graduate student, actually. I'm just starting my Ph.D. thesis.”

“Which department?”

“Psychology.”

“Is this some kind of experiment?”

“Life is just one damned experiment after another. But if you are asking if you have been a subject in an official scholarly study, the answer is, 'Of course not.' The ethics violations alone would be staggering. Not only could I not get it published, but I'd risk my entire academic career if I tried to submit a report. No, this is just a game I decided to play. It was a one-off experience. I've never offered to have sex with strangers before and will probably never do it again. But I have to admit that I did learn a few interesting things tonight. You guys gave me ideas for more than one legitimate experiment tonight. I have to thank you for that.”

“You're welcome. How come I got the impression at that meeting that you worked for Barton Kinematics?”

“I don't even know who they are. I just walked through the engineering department and sat in the first open chair in the first big meeting that I found. The open chair happened to be in the middle of their group so everyone else thought that I was with them.” She giggled. “It was easy enough to walk in, sit down, and introduce myself as Felicity, just another junior engineer. It was no big deal. What was the worst that you could do? Ask me politely to leave. That would be no trauma for me.”

“Hmm.” Roy paused for a minute to digest that little chestnut. Then he said, “One other thing, I noticed that you have a different address on your driver's license. Your real apartment is a lot closer to the university than this one.”

“Yeah, well, I'm sure you understand why I borrowed this one. I didn't exactly know you guys so I wasn't keen on you all knowing where I really live. This is my officemate's apartment. She's at a conference in Alaska of all places, and won't be back until tomorrow evening. I've got to get the place cleaned up before then.”

“I can understa

The clock on the mantle began dinging loudly and repeatedly, cutting Roy off in mid-sentence.

“That's it!” Barbara shouted over the dinging. “You've officially won the key to my most intimate parts. You'll find it taped to the bottom of the clock.”

Roy looked at her for a minute, then said, “So if I just walk out of here without unlocking you, then you'll have to stay like this until your colleague comes back tomorrow night.”

“You wouldn't do that to me. I've held up my part of our bargain and I trust you to do the same. Now you owe me an evening of wild, passionate sex. That was the deal.” She shuffled her feet impatiently, giving Roy the impression that she was anxious to get the chastity belt and cuffs removed so that she could make wild love to him for the rest of the night.

“You're right. I'll play fair with you, too.” As soon as he unlocked her, she proved that his impression was entirely correct. By this time, she was desperately horny. She spent the next few hours showing him that she was as inventive in her love making as she had been in her gamesmanship.

He proved to be her equal in bed. And on the dining room table. And in the bathtub.

The evening did not end at midnight, as the rules specified. The next morning, she made him breakfast; then he helped her clean all the evidence of their passion from her friend's apartment. It was the first night of a beautiful friendship that lasted until she graduated.

And not the 'I don't want to fuck you any more' kind of friendship; the happy, lusty kind.



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