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Not Just a Fan ElrodW A man with a wife and boring life meets his favorite rock star while hiking. After talking a while, she invites him and his wife to a concert and meal, and there she springs an offer that is quite unbelievable, and quiet irresistible to the couple. The man's life is about to change in ways he never expected. ********** This story is copyright by the author. It is protected by licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs 3.0 Unported License. Tom Newton sat down on a large rock and pulled out his water bottle. Even though it was a cool, misty morning, he'd been hiking aggressively, and he was warm and thirsty. After taking a long drink, he leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. Beads of sweat rolled off his forehead, down his nose, and dripped to the cool, damp ground. As he rested, he heard noise coming from up the trail. He looked up toward the path, and saw a woman hiking into the clearing. He hadn't heard anyone behind him on the trail, so her appearance was a surprise. "Nice morning for a hike," she said in a husky voice as she stopped. She bent forward at the waist, resting her hands on her waist and breathing deeply. "That last stretch is a little steep." She was tall and lean, looking quite fit in her colorful sweat pants and her tight, matching, moisture-wicking top. In fact, she was the same height as Tom, but where he had a tiny bit of beer belly, the woman was almost perfectly fit and trim. Her light brown hair was cut in a punkish rock-star style - seriously short on the sides, long and unkempt on the top with some purplish highlights. Even more striking was a snow-white streak from front to back across the top of her head. She appeared to be in her mid-twenties, with the signature 'bad girl' tattoos peeking from under her sleeves and on one wrist, multiple studs in her ears, and a jeweled piercing in her nose. "Yup," Tom replied casually. His eyes widened imperceptibly when he almost instantly recognized the woman. Her name was Winter, or at least that was her stage name. She was a huge star, already having recorded four albums, including two that were platinum. She had one Grammy, and no fewer than eleven songs in the top ten of the charts over a five-year career - so far. With her husky contralto voice that could do everything from angry rock to sultry seductress equally well, she was the epitome of a rebel-girl rocker, with songs that seemed to resonate with a lot of fans, not just the usual rebellious teenage girl fan base that was common to a lot of singers. Despite realizing who she was, Tom made no fuss. It was somewhat difficult to remain calm, because he really liked her music. "You must have been keeping a good pace. I didn't hear you behind me." "I hike pretty fast. I have to so I can stay fit," Winter answered. She frowned; this guy didn't seem to recognize her, and that was a little bothersome to her considerable ego. Everyone knew who she was - or should. "It's necessary in my line of work." Tom answered, smiling wryly at the way she seemed miffed that he wasn't being a typical fan. "I'd imagine stage performances are quite a workout. You have a pretty high-energy style in your concerts." Winter's eyebrow cocked upward in surprise. "You know who I am?" Tom's smile was friendly and unassuming. "Of course. You're Winter, the rock and pop singer. I'd have to be living in a monastery to not know who you are." Winter started, and then she laughed. "Most people who know who I am don't react like they were meeting their neighborhood librarian," she said with a pleasant grin. "Probably true," Tom said, "but not everyone is a boring engineer, either." Winter looked him over thoroughly. This man was very unusual. He knew who she was, but was treating her like a normal person, or at least reining in his fan adulation. "You're different." It was Tom's turn to laugh. "You mean, because I'm not gushing praise, adoration, and eternal love for you and your singing?" "Well, yeah." Winter was puzzled by his behavior. It was both refreshing and insulting, because she was used to considerable attention. "I don't expect normal interaction with people, even in out-of-the-way places like this." She shook her head. "Most people don't know that being famous has a serious down side." Tom scooted to one side of the large rock he was sitting on, implicitly offering a seat to Winter. "You either like the outdoors, or you like to go places where you don't meet a lot of people - or the paparazzi." "Actually, it's both, but more of the latter. I like a little privacy, but I don't get it very often. It's hard for a celebrity to have privacy." She sat down beside him, and took his water bottle when he offered it to her. "By the way, do you prefer being called by your stage identity, or by your real name?" Winter gasped. No-one asked her questions like this. "Sometimes, I get a little tired of being known only by my stage name." She looked at him. "I suppose you know my real name?" "Rebecca Fletcher. Or do you prefer a nickname?" Her eyebrows rose. "Becca," she answered. "You're a little ... disconcerting. Most people who know me are big fans wanting me to autograph stuff, or they're not fans who hate my music. You act like I'm just another ordinary person." "I _am_ familiar with your music," he said with a chuckle. "Very familiar. And I like it a lot. I think my favorites are I'm the One Who Says No, You Think, and My Prison.'" Becca's eyebrows rose. "You like My Prison?" She shook her head, smiling. "I almost didn't release that one. I had a lot of second thoughts." Tom laughed. "You shouldn't have. The way I see it, it's your feelings about how being lonely and hurt pushes you into a little private sanctuary that becomes a prison. It's a very touching, introspective song if you think about it." Becca smiled, shaking her head. "Most of the critics don't get that. How come you do?" "Been there. It's not exactly a social paradise to be a nerd, you know. It should have gone higher on the charts of people just thought about the message in the song." "Sometimes, people just like the tempo and beat of my music. It's ... disappointing that they don't get the meaning of the song." Tom chuckled. "It's pretty obvious, at least to me. Your emotions come through in your songs, and that makes them sound much more authentic. I think Why Does it Hurt So Much is the most emotionally moving song written about emotional abuse from a family. Bad Ass is fun, but if I'm not mistaken, it has a subtle message about the party, rock-n-roll lifestyle seeming empty. And in answer to your next question, I really appreciate your talent, but I figured that you don't want adoring fans right now." Tom shrugged. "I suppose even a big star wants to feel normal and have some privacy." Becca actually blushed at his praise of her music. Most people didn't understand the source of her lyrics, especially the ones about lost love and family pain that she'd actually experienced, nor did the fans understand that her rebellious attitude was often a false front to protect herself against emotional pain. Somehow, Tom did. "I can't stop being amazed at how many people crave fame but never think of the down-side and cost." "I never thought about it," Tom said. "Engineers don't exactly attract adoring crowds, you know. I try to treat everyone the same, regardless - even if I am a fan. But my wife isn't nearly as enamored with your music as I am." "Oh? You're married?" She handed the bottle back to Tom, glancing deliberately at his left hand for the first time. "Six years. Happily, mostly, I guess." He didn't sound convincing. "Lucky you. I suppose you know what I went through?" she snorted derisively, clearly still upset by the events she'd endured. Tom nodded. "Yeah. It was all over the news. It sounded rough." "That's one way to put it." She looked at him, cocking an eyebrow. "I'd guess you know all of the crap that was on the entertainment news." Tom nodded. "Yeah, I heard a lot of the stories." They were alluding to Becca's bitter divorce after three years of rocky marriage. After a quick, whirlwind romance, Winter had married a brash, hot-shot, downhill snow skier of some fame. The entertainment media was delighted, of course. She accompanied him on some of his downhill races all over the world, but he seemed to expect that she'd go to _all_ his races. She had to do her concerts, and she had expected that he'd accompany her. They tried to keep their schedules in sync, at first, but it got too difficult, with her concert travels and his skiing races. Rumors began to circulate in the media that he was fooling around with some ski-racing groupies on a few of the trips without Winter. When confronted, he turned the tables and accused Winter - publicly - of fooling around with one of the members of her band, intimidating her into dropping the whole accusation with a threat of even more bad publicity about an affair that wouldn't help her career. The last year had been extremely rocky, and the breakup and divorce was quite acrimonious. The entertainment media had a field day with the accusations and vitriol between the two. He got quite a bit from the divorce settlement, since her earnings were considerable, and he'd come across as the aggrieved party. His star rose among the ski- groupies, while the bitter fight and settlement had affected Winter's career. It had taken her almost a year to get back to writing songs and producing her music videos, but she had gotten her career firmly back on track. "I should have known better," Becca said bitterly. "The only good thing that came out of that fucking mess was a bunch of hit songs when I finally started writing again." "I take it you're referring to Skanky Bitch?" "That's one." "It was pretty obvious that it was directed at the girl ..." "Slut," Becca interjected, her voice mildly angry, but not as much as Tom had expected. Tom nodded with a wry smile. "... the slut that came between the two of you. Would I be wrong in thinking that Bootstraps is about trying to pick up the pieces? Becca smiled at his answer. "Just about the whole album came of out that emotional train wreck, like I Don't Get Mad, I Get Even, and Steel." She sighed and shook her head. "A lot of anger, a lot of pain, lots of emotions." "If I didn't know they were from earlier albums, I would have guessed that some of your songs like Ice Cold Heart came from that whole mess, too." "You really do know my music," Becca said, surprised by his commentary. "Like I said, I have an appreciation for the emotion that comes through in your songs." After a moment, she looked at Tom curiously. "Why aren't you asking me about some of the stupid rumors and shit?" She sounded puzzled. "I'm an engineer, remember?" Tom chuckled, as if the answer was obvious. "I'm used to dealing with facts and data, not rumors and speculation. Besides, the way the media was tearing into you, I figured that there was a side of the story that wasn't being reported." He saw her astonished look. "I would imagine that some of the so- called reporters are envious bastards, and looked at this as a way to tear you down." She laughed. "You're perceptive." She reached for and took his bottle again, taking another swig. "Aren't you even curious about some of the ... reports ... about me? Like whether I really have rather ... kinky tastes in sex?" Tom blushed. "Well, yeah," he answered, "but I figured it's not my place to ask." Becca smiled, and then sat in silence while she thought for a moment. "You said 'mostly' when you were talking about your own marriage. Troubles?" Tom sighed. "Aren't there always?" He shook his head. "But then, you know that, don't you." "Touche," she said with a grin. "So what are _your_ problems?" "There's no point trying to kid around, especially since you've been through it." He shook his head. "We lost the magic." He glanced at Winter, his eyes reflecting disappointment at his marital situation. "Look at you - you do everything with passion. You live your life with a sense of adventure, joy, and sexiness." He shook his head. "We had that once. Now ... it's gone, and I ... I miss it." Becca's eyes widened. "You think I do everything with passion?" she asked, her voice echoing her surprise. "Yeah," Tom laughed hollowly. "It's kind of funny, but until I started listening to your music and watching your videos, I hadn't realized what we'd lost." He sighed, sounding nostalgic. "My wife doesn't even realize that it's gone. With time, it just kind of faded away. We're getting more distant from each other." He sighed. "She's even talked about a trial separation or a divorce." Tom looked down, shaking his head sadly. "When I heard and saw you performing, I realized why we were drifting apart, but my wife thinks that it's that your music that changed me." "I didn't realize I had that sort of power," Becca said. "Oh, believe me," Tom said enthusiastically, "you do. You exude sex appeal and love for what you're doing, and you're authentic. You don't ever seem like you're acting or putting on a face. Who you are in interviews, or public appearances, is who you really are. You don't seem to give a rat's ass about saying or doing the expected celebrity things. Unless I badly misjudge you, you're the same genuine person in public as you are in private." Tom laughed. "You know, in a way I envy you. You're honest enough to not care what people say or think. You're true to yourself." The two sat on the rock for well over an hour, just chatting. To Becca, it was a pleasant distraction from real-life. Eventually, though, she realized what the time was and said that had to go. "I've got to get back to rehearsal. I want to make sure everything is polished for my concerts Friday and Saturday." She stood up. "It was very nice to meet you, Tom," she said pleasantly. "I hope you and your wife can resolve some of your issues." Tom had told her more about his marriage than he'd realized, especially his and his wife Katie's disagreement about having children, her frigid attitude toward intimacy, her dislike for anything ... different, and her talk of separation. Becca started to walk off, but turned back with a curious expression on her face. "Why don't you and your wife come to my concert Saturday?" she suggested with a charming smile. "My treat." "That's be nice," Tom said with a grin, "if I could convince Katie. She really doesn't like your music and thinks I'm an obsessed fan." Winter laughed. "If you're an obsessed fan, you sure don't show it. Ask her. Tell her that afterwards, we can get together for a nice dinner. My treat." She mentioned a very exclusive restaurant, eliciting a surprised gasp from Tom. Dinner for three would be well over four hundred dollars! "That's not necessary," Tom objected. "Give me your e-mail address or phone. I'll get you the details." She saw his expression. "I'm serious. It's nice to spend an hour or two feeling like a normal person. I'd like to spend a little more time with you, and get to know your wife as well." She smiled. "Maybe she'll change her opinion of me when we meet." ********** "You're full of shit!" Ken said disdainfully, sitting at a small table in the cafeteria at Tom's workplace. Like Tom, he was an engineer, but that was as far as the similarities went. He was just over six foot tall and wiry, with mousy brown hair and a half-hearted attempt at a moustache and goatee that didn't go well with his plastic-framed glasses. Tom looked average, but Ken looked like a nerd. "No, I'm not kidding. I met her hiking Sunday afternoon," Tom said with a shrug. He took another bite of his sandwich. "Okay, so did you get her autograph, then? Or something else to prove it?" To say that Ken was skeptical was an understatement. "Didn't think it was appropriate. She likes a little privacy, too," Tom said. "You're trying to tell me that you met Winter while you were hiking, you spent over an hour talking to her, and you _didn't_ get her autograph, or even a picture on your cell phone? And you expect me to believe that?" Ken laughed. "Next you're going to try to tell me that she invited you out to dinner!" Tom smiled. "Actually, she did." Ken shook his head, chuckling. "No way, dude. Why would a singer like Winter invite a dweeb like you to dinner? In your wildest dreams, you're two orders of magnitude from being even close to her social circle!" "Doesn't matter if you believe it," Tom said with a smug smile. "She's pretty nice to talk with. We've got a few things in common, too, like hiking, reading classic stories, interest in art." "Since when did you read the classics?" "Hey, you don't live with me. If you don't believe I read classics, ask Katie." Ken flinched. "No way, dude. She's still pissed at me for taking you to Lee's bachelor party a year and a half ago. I'm not going to risk her ripping my balls off like she said she would the next time she saw me." Tom laughed. "It would have helped if I hadn't come home with the stripper's bra in my pants!" He shook his head. "She was so pissed." He swallowed another bite and washed it down with a swig of soda. "I can't believe she agreed to go to the concert and dinner," he said. "She hates Winter's music." "I'm going to call Katie tonight, then. I'm going to prove that you're full of shit." Tom pulled out his cell phone and pressed a few buttons. "Don't wait for tonight," he said, handing the phone to Ken. "Go ahead and ask her now." Ken took the phone like it was a snake, and slowly held it to his face. "Uh, Katie? It's Ken. Say, listen, Tom's spouting some kind of crap about you and him going to a concert and then dinner with Winter. I know it sounds ...." His eyes widened. "You're kidding. No shit?" His jaw hung open in shock. "Okay, bye." He handed the phone back to Tom. "She said you _are_ going." "Told you," Tom said smugly. "This is unreal." He frowned. "You put Katie up to this, didn't you? You're trying to pull one on me to get back for the bachelor party, aren't you? Was this Katie's idea?" "I'll get Winter to autograph something for me, then, and I'll get a picture with her. Will that prove it to you, mister skeptic?" Tom asked, sounding unnervingly confident. Ken nodded. "I'll believe it when I see it." "Enough to put fifty bucks on it?" Tom asked with a confident smile. Ken's eyes narrowed. "Now I _know_ you're bluffing," he said. "Sure. Fifty bucks." He sat back, grinning. "Just be prepared to pay up Monday at lunchtime." ********** "I hope you aren't disappointed that I asked for the autograph," Tom said humbly to Becca. They were sitting at a corner table in one of the swankiest restaurants in LA, a place known for stars and celebrities. "My buddy at work wanted me to prove that I met you and went to your concert. I've got fifty bucks riding on getting an autograph or a picture." Becca grinned. "I understand. And it was no problem. I just hope the Sharpie didn't bleed through the shirt and leave my autograph on your skin!" "Even without the autograph and pictures and dinner, it was a damned good a concert," Tom said, lifting his wineglass toward Becca in toast. "Right, Katie?" Katie glanced his way with an unpleasant look in her eyes. "I suppose," she said coldly. "But you know that's not my preferred music style." Katie Newton-Hallburg was in her mid-twenties, like Becca. She wore her hair short, in a rather unflattering but low-maintenance style, and her attire was plain, like she was trying to fade into the woodwork. Her appearance was certainly not what one would expect to be seen either at the concert or in a very swanky restaurant. Unlike Becca, she was somewhat overweight. Her overall look was quite plain and boring - lacking any sense of daring or adventure, passion, joy, or energy, just as Tom had described. Becca didn't look away from Tom. "Thanks. It's always a lot of work." She turned to Katie. "You're lucky to have someone like Tom for your husband," she said. "Not like I had with ... that fucking son-of-a- bitch I married!" "I suppose," Katie said, wincing at Becca's explicit language and giving Tom a suspicious look. One of the reasons she hadn't enjoyed the concert was that Becca's songs were liberally sprinkled through and through with salty language and explicit references. "Trust me - if he's not screwing some slut behind your back, has a good job, and doesn't mooch off you, he's worth hanging on to." Tom blushed, and glanced nervously hat Katie. She was scowling at him, obviously unhappy at how the evening had gone so far. His sense of enjoyment vanished in an instant ... something that Becca noticed. They continued to chat, and Tom was surprised to find a lot of it had to with how they got along, and what they did. Becca wasn't talking about herself. After a bit, Tom took one more sip of wine, and then stood. "If you'd excuse me for a moment," he said. Tom turned and walked to the restroom. "I take it you think Tom is full of shit when he says that you two are happily married?" Becca said bluntly after Tom had left. Katie's eyes nearly bugged out. "How ... how do you know about that? And what business is it of yours?" Becca smiled pleasantly. "Didn't he tell you that we bumped into each other hiking the Parson Trail the other day and spent a good while talking? "He most certainly did not," Katie spat angrily. She clearly considered that bit of news more proof that Tom was obsessed with Winter, or Becca as she preferred off-stage, and her music. "Hmmm," Becca muttered as if surprised. "I wonder why?" She shrugged and continued. "So, you two _aren't_ happy?" Katie snorted. "He's more than a little optimistic if he said otherwise," she said, disparagingly. "Oh? The other day, and tonight, he seems nice." "He changed - ever since he started listening to your music," Katie said accusingly. "He says that we lost our passion. He's rather ... demanding for ... intimacy sometimes," Katie complained, blushing. "And he keeps pushing us to have children." She wondered why she was telling this to someone who had been, only four hours ago, a complete stranger to her. At the same time, Becca seemed genuinely interested in her unvarnished opinion of Tom, and with a little wine in her, she was eager to vent. "Oh? I gather that you aren't as interested in ... sex ... as he is, and you don't want any kids." "That's an understatement," Katie said, still sounding angry at Becca and, indeed, the entire evening. She'd had a little wine herself, and her anger at Tom at being brought to the concert clouded her judgment a bit. That, and her frustration with her husband. "And he wants to play some ... games in the bedroom," she said conspiratorially. Knowing that she had Becca's attention, Katie told her, unable to disguise her antipathy toward the subject. "Even with that, you're fucking lucky you didn't end up with an asshole like I got," Becca commented. "You don't realize how lucky you are." She frowned. "I wish I'd have found someone normal like him." Katie snorted derisively. "There are days I'd let you take him, especially lately. He's far from perfect. His incessant talking about having kids just ... infuriates me." She took a sip of wine, her third glass of the evening, which explained some of her mood. "And sometimes, he wants to get a little too ... creative." "Oh," Becca said in understanding. Then her eyes widened as she realized what Katie was implying. "Ohhhh. And you don't like that?" Katie frowned angrily. "I don't know why I'm telling you any of this. It's none of your damned business anyway if he has a few ... unusual ... desires." Becca thought for a moment. "I could make it my business," she said with a wry grin. Katie looked puzzled. "What are you talking about?" "I've got a proposition for you," Becca said with unnerving confidence in her voice. "Actually, for both you and Tom." "What's that?" Becca smiled knowingly and took a sip. "I'll tell you when he gets back." Her sly hint had Katie curious, and she was suddenly eager for Tom to return. Katie tried to prompt for more clues, but Becca was being coy. After what seemed an interminable wait, Tom returned. "Did I miss anything?" he asked conversationally. "Actually, you did," Becca said nonchalantly. "Your wife was telling me a bit about some of your ... disagreements and ... incompatibilities." Tom shot Katie a hostile look. "Oh?" "And I've got a proposal for the two of you that might make everyone happier," Becca said with a knowing smile. Tom's eyebrows rose, while Katie looked suspiciously at Becca. "A ... proposal?" "I want to ... borrow ... your husband for a year to be my companion," Becca said to Katie without batting an eye. She took another sip of wine, watching the couple's reactions with amusement. Tom gulped nervously. "Uh," he stammered and held up his left hand, displaying his wedding ring, "Katie and I are married, remember?" "So? It's no big deal ... not these days, anyway." There was something unnervingly calm about the way Becca was talking. "You admitted that things weren't ... exciting enough, or passionate enough for you, and she did say that things were rather ... tense between you." "I can't. It's just ... it's not right," Tom protested. He looked at Katie, and saw that she, too, was astonished by the offer. "Even if we are having a few difficulties." "Not even for one million dollars?" Tom's eyes widened. He looked at Katie, and saw her expression. She seemed to be mulling over the offer, which startled Tom. "You can't be serious!" "I'm very serious." Becca sipped her wine. "Here's the deal. You take a leave of absence from your job for a year. I'll replace your salary, so Katie isn't without proper financial support. During the year, you'll move in with me, and be my consort. At the end of the first quarter, I pay the two of you one hundred thousand; after the second quarter, another two hundred thousand. Then, an additional three hundred thousand, and at the end one full year, I pay the final four hundred thousand, to make a total of one million dollars." "That would make me a gigolo," Tom protested. "I ... can't." And yet, there was something in his eyes beyond the surprise and shock at her unusual offer. Becca calmly took another sip of wine. "You could consider this as a ... sabbatical ... from your marriage, to let things cool off a bit." "You _know_ we could use the money," Katie said bluntly to Tom, her face a neutral mask. "And we _have_ been getting on each other's nerves a lot lately." She said the last with a tone that suggested it was all Tom's fault, not hers. "A break might be just what we need to see if we should get divorced or not." "But ...." "This is so tempting. I'd take the offer just so you don't harass me about children for the next year," Katie whispered angrily to Tom. "You know what our last ... discussion ... about that topic was like." Tom recoiled as if stung. "But ...." Katie's anger had been completely unexpected and stunning. Katie stood suddenly. "I need to use the ladies' room," she announced before walking off. Tom looked at Becca, stunned and feeling helpless. His wife was seriously considering renting him out as Becca's companion for a year, as though he was a cheap escort, and she was the pimp. He looked at Becca, uncertain of what to do. He had the look of a man whose world had just spun out of control, and he didn't know what to do. Becca just smiled at him. "You know you're interested," she said with certainty. "You find me exciting, passionate, and sexy. You said so yourself the other day. And you'd like a break from arguing about children and sex with your boring wife, right?" Tom stared at her as she sipped her wine. To her, it seemed like she was buying a new car, not negotiating with a wife about using her husband for a year. He looked at Becca, and he saw her Winter stage persona, the image of sexuality, excitement, and adventure. He gulped nervously, feeling suddenly like a fly trapped in a spider's web. Or being lured into a trap with enticing bait. "You're tempted, aren't you?" she repeated. "Um," Tom stammered. "Um ..." "Be honest," Becca said firmly. "You find my offer ... exciting, don't you?" "Uh, yeah," Tom admitted softly, feeling his cheeks redden. "It's an interesting proposition." He tried to laugh, but it sounded hollow. "It's not every day that a normal, plain guy has a rock superstar coming on to him, you know." "I promise you a year of fun, excitement, travel, concerts, and a _lot_ of variety to spice up your life." She spoke with a sultry, seductive tone, and, in her rich contralto voice, it sounded sexy and alluring, a siren song to a man whose wife wasn't fulfilling his needs or wishes. "And Katie told me that you like some ... variety, and I find that kind of thing ... sexy!" she purred to him, causing his eyebrows to lift in shock. Katie returned, and she sat down, staring at Tom. "You want to do it, don't you?" Tom gulped nervously. He _really_ did want to spend a year with Becca, but he wasn't sure about leaving Katie. She read his thoughts and facial expression, though. "You want to. And I want to take her up on her offer, too." She turned to Becca, a wicked grin on her face. "Unless Tom says no in the next three seconds, we've got a deal," she announced definitively to Becca, leaving Tom sitting, too stunned to answer, and too embarrassed to tell Katie truthfully that yes, he really _did_ want to take Becca's offer. The three seconds passed, and Katie, after another glance at Tom, said definitively, "It's a deal." ********** Tom paused after getting his small suitcase from the trunk of his older Mazda, and scanned the grounds of Becca's 'house'. It was gated for security; she'd given him a pass card the day they'd signed some legal documents formalizing the contract. The house wasn't some type of palatial estate that many people would imagine a bit star would live in, but it wasn't small, either. The landscaping was quite attractively maintained, dotted with blooming flowers for accent. Tom found that interesting; as a hobby, he did some gardening at his and Katie's house. He hoped that Katie wouldn't mind if he did some gardening here; his mind's eye had immediately identified a few things that he could improve based on the architectural style and layout of the house and yard. The house, he guessed, was probably twenty-five hundred or three-thousand square feet - far larger than most of Becca's fans could afford, and way out of Tom's league in this expensive area of the metro area. "You're late," Becca said from the main door, sounding a bit cross. Tom spun, startled. "Uh," he stammered, "the traffic was a little heavy, and ...." With a wicked grin, Becca pranced down the two steps. "I was joking," she said, laughing. She walked boldly to Tom, grasped his face between her hands, and kissed him passionately. She pulled back after a moment. "Don't you want me?" she purred. "Uh," Tom said, "this still seems a bit ... awkward." He felt confused by the entire deal, but couldn't help that he found her sexy, and that her perfume was tantalizingly sweet. "But you _do_ want me, don't you?" She let her hand drop and rub the firmness in his crotch. "I thought so," she giggled. Tom was startled by her blatant sexuality. "Yeah, well, you're so damned sexy," he replied uneasily. "But ..." She shook her head, silencing him with a finger across her lips. "But nothing. Now, let's try that again. And remember, your wife was eager to let you be mine," she added. She leaned close again, her lips seeking his. This time, spurred by the memory that Katie had pushed him into the deal as though she was tired of him, Tom let himself relax and respond. They kissed for a long while, until Becca backed away, her eyes wide open and an expression of lust on her face. She grasped his hand, clutching it tightly. "Let's get you moved in, and then I'll give you the grand tour," she said. There was no doubt in Tom's mind of what the 'grand tour' was going to entail. They walked through the house, which despite outward appearances, was modestly styled and furnished. She led him up a staircase, Tom carrying his small suitcase with one hand because Becca wasn't letting go of his other hand. They walked into a large bedroom, with a king-sized bed and a couple of wing chairs opposite a fireplace. "This is your room," she purred. Tom frowned, puzzled. "My room?" He was stunned by both the grandeur of the room, and the fact that she was implying that it was his _personal_ bedroom. That seemed to belie the entire contract. "Don't get me wrong, but I'm not always going to want to wake up with you," she explained quickly after she surmised his concern. Her comment visibly deflated his ego a bit. She saw his crestfallen look. "Oh, don't worry. I just like a little private time now and again. I don't want to wake up with anyone else, unless you want to have a little ... party." She grinned. "And I guarantee you'll be spending a lot of time in my bed with me, because I _really_ like sex." She tugged the suitcase from his hand and dropped it to the floor. "Like right now," she purred, as she nibbled at his neck and ears. She pulled him past the door to what he guessed was his bathroom and through a different door into an adjoining bedroom. This one was even more elaborately decorated, with satin and lace on seemingly everything. There was a definite cool, wintery theme to the d?cor. Tom knew instantly that it was her bedroom. "Is this...?" Tom started to ask, but before he could finish his question, Becca pushed him to sit her bed, and then straddled his lap, kissing him insistently while her hands rubbed eagerly over his body, eventually tugging at his clothes. Tom started to reciprocate, slowly at first, and then with more feeling as he rubbed her breasts and then began to grope at her clothing, too. "Ah, ah," Becca said, leaning back a bit, smiling. "You're in my prison. And the warden decided she's going to have to interrogate you. How does that sound to you?" Tom's eyes were wide with surprise at her boldness. "So the rumors of you being a bit ... kinky...?" Becca pushed him onto his back, and then tore at his clothes. "Are all true. And I'm going to have you, right now. What do you think of that?" She was rubbing herself on his crotch as if possessed. "And you don't have a choice. You realize that, don't you?" she said between kissing him very enthusiastically. "You're mine. You're my prisoner," she whispered in his ear, as she kissed and nibbled at his neck. Tom found her assertive play very exciting. After all, he'd often wished that Katie was a little more aggressive and playful in the bedroom. Now, with her permission, he was experiencing it, and with his favorite female rock star. It was like a fantasy come true. When they were both finished with their frenetic love-making, Becca pushed herself up on her arms like she was doing a pushup directly over him. "I think we're going to have very ... interesting year, don't you?" she asked with a seductive smile.' "I can't help but feel a little guilty," Tom admitted to his apprehensions. "I mean, my job, and ...." Becca silenced him by leaning forward and kissing him passionately again. She pushed herself up again. "You were saying?" "Uh, I forgot?" Tom replied playfully. "Good answer," Becca grinned before she leaned into another kiss, rubbing her hot naked body tantalizingly on his, with the obvious intent of rekindling his passion. *********** A head resting on his arm felt unusual to Tom when he woke up. Katie hadn't fallen asleep on his arm since their honeymoon. For a moment, he was baffled, until he recalled the previous evening, when Becca had ravished him so thoroughly and repeatedly in a frenzy of sex. He smiled, remembering her creativity and insatiability. "Morning," she said with a smile as she woke up to his stirring. She kissed him, a slow, lingering kiss, but she stopped. "You're distracted again." Tom tried to smile, but failed. "It's just ... strange." He saw the reaction on her face. "Not you. Damn, but you're a tigress," he said appreciatively. "You're ... wow!" "Glad you liked it," Becca said with a big grin, kissing him again. Her hand started creeping down his chest, playing in his chest hair and teasing his nipples, before sliding down to his slightly round belly on its way to his groin. "You were ... yummy!" "So were you," Tom agreed enthusiastically. "It's been ... forever since I had a night like that. Katie ..." Becca scowled at the mention of his wife. "Shhh," she said, putting her finger on his lips. "I don't want to hear that name again for the next year, okay? It really spoils the mood," she scolded him firmly. "I've got a question," Tom asked, struggling to keep focused as Becca began to rub his member. "You told me not to bring a lot of clothes." Becca leaned forward and kissed his chest. "You don't need any of that stodgy, boring, corporate uniform shit," she said simply. "I've got a closet-full of clothes for you - something a hell of a lot more suitable." She kissed his chest again. "Now, shall we talk about clothes, or should I keep on with what I'm doing?" "Keep on," Tom said, feeling a rush of pleasure through his body. "Some of the clothes may be a little ... snug," Becca said, as she stroked his crotch. "But I think they'll fit pretty quickly once you lose some weight and get in shape." "Get in shape?" Becca looked up to his face, grinning. "You don't think you'll be able to keep up with me if you don't work on your endurance, do you?" Tom didn't know whether to laugh or cringe at her implication. He went with the former, a nervous laugh. "Based on last night, I think I'll need to build up a _lot_ of endurance." "And you will be traveling with me and being seen in public with me a lot, so you _will_ want to look your very best, won't you? And I think you'll be surprised at how tiring it is to tour, even though it doesn't seem like it would be." Her voice and eyes were practically begging him to say yes. Becca slid her head further down, and Tom's eyes widened. He couldn't remember Katie _ever_ performing oral sex. This was certainly something that he wasn't used to. She was right - this _was_ going to be an interesting year. And he was so distracted that he couldn't think of any objections to changing his clothing style, if that was what Becca wanted. ********** The woman walked confidently into the private gym in Becca's house. "You must be Tom," she said, as she extended a hand toward him. "Uh, yeah," Tom answered. He couldn't help but notice that beneath the woman spandex, which emphasized her every curve, she was very fit, with seemingly not an ounce of extra fat. Tom felt a little jealous, and he subconsciously sucked his gut in a bit. The woman noticed and permitted herself a slight smile. "Becca tells me that we're going to be working to get you in better shape, right?" She looked up and down his body. "I'm Diedre," she continued. "I work a lot with Becca to help her stay in shape, and I'll be working with you, too." "Okay," Tom said nervously. He wasn't quite sure what to expect from Becca's trainer. "We're going to work a lot on aerobic exercise and toning your body," Diedre continued, "especially your core." She patted his tummy. "Within a couple of weeks, between exercising with me and a good, sensible diet, you're going to look and feel like a whole new man." "Diet?" "We'll cut out those nasty, fat-building carbs. You'll eat healthy food, like Becca does - lots of veggies and fruits, and sensible protein, including a good healthy protein shake twice a day. How do you think she stays in such good shape, hmm?" Diedre grinned. "It's my exercising routine and the diet I laid out for her." Her eyes twinkled a bit. "But like everyone, she sometimes cheats and indulges herself in unhealthy snacks. Then I have to make sure she works extra- hard to keep the pounds off. I'm sure you'll be the same way." "Okay." "And she said to make sure you get a good plan of supplements." She saw his quizzical look. "They'll help keep your body healthy, and build endurance and stamina." She winked knowingly at Tom, which made him blush. "And she asked for something to help your ... um ... performance and endurance," she said, trying to keep from embarrassing Tom any further than he already was. Her attempt at discretion didn't help; Tom was beet red with profound embarrassment. An hour and a half later, dripping sweat from Diedre's intense workout, Tom was glad to follow her from the gym to the kitchen. She showed him where his protein powder was stored, and had him mix up a glass with some orange juice for a post-workout drink. She also showed him where his supplements were, and went over his supplement schedule. All told, he had a nine various capsules and pills to be taken over the course of his day, according to a schedule she'd written down for him. Between his physical fatigue and the dizzying instructions with the supplements, Tom wasn't really paying alert to all the instructions. He finally stopped Diedre. "Can you go over that again, a bit slower?" Diedre chuckled. "I should have you do an extra fifty sets of lunges to inspire you to listen better next time." Tom's eyes widened. "Fifty?" He was stunned. "If I do even ten more, I won't be able to .... um," he looked down, embarrassed, "you know." Diedre smiled at his predicament, but, after pushing him very hard on his first workout, she decided to be merciful. "Okay, consider this a warning, but I better not see it happen again, or you'll get one hundred extra lunges." She proceeded to review the supplement and medication schedule for Tom, a little slower. He got most of it. The parts he wasn't quite sure about were in a binder atop the refrigerator for his reference. It seemed that every muscle in Tom's body ached from the strenuous workout. He wondered how on earth he was going to be able to satisfy Becca that evening. One thing he was sure of - after a couple of weeks working out with Diedre, he _was_ going to be in much better physical shape. ********** "Do you like Linda, my counselor?" Becca asked as they sat at the dining table. It was elaborately and intimately, set, with fresh cut flowers and candles giving a romantic atmosphere, like it had been every night. Becca was certainly one to let her passion show, even in simple things like dining, even if the meal was simple like leftovers. Tom nodded. "Yeah. She's great. She's helping me get over any feelings of guilt." "Good," Becca smiled. "She's fabulous. I knew you'd love her." "She suggested we meet twice a week," Tom said. "What did you two talk about today? Or am I not supposed to know?" she asked with a playful expression. "She was asking a lot about my feelings of sexuality," Tom admitted with a slight blush. "If I know Linda, it's because she wants to know how to boost your confidence, and make sure you're really okay, deep down, I mean, with some of my ... unusual ... desires." "Yeah," Tom said, blushing. "We talked about whether I'd be open to ... a few things that I'd never thought of." "Like what, if you don't mind sharing." Tom winced, but then he thought about how intimate he and Becca had been since he moved in. And it wasn't just intimacy in the bedroom, but also time just being together. "She ... thinks that you can be a little ... dominating," he said slowly, watching for her reactions. "And she asked about ... dress-up, and other ... games like that." He was blushing, knowing that Linda had explicitly talked about how open he was to being dominated, or whether he'd be able to dress up in Becca's clothes and costumes if she wanted. She was helping him explore how far he'd go for Becca. "That sounds like it could be interesting," Becca said, her eyebrows rising in anticipation. "I'm not sure if that ...," Tom was hesitant again. "Remember, I'm kinky," Becca replied, eagerly licking her lips. Tom grinned at the mention of her preferences. In only the first four days, he'd found out that Becca definitely _was_ a challenge to keep satisfied, so anything Linda could do would be helpful. "Anything to keep you satisfied," he said with a smile. "You're insatiable." Becca changed the subject. "I hope you're okay with my vegan diet." Tom nodded uncertainly. He hadn't realized before moving in that she was vegan, and that he'd sacrifice his love of burgers and steak. "I'm managing," he said with a nervous smile. Becca laughed, understanding his plight. "My cook makes fabulous dishes," she explained. "Until I told you, I don't think you even suspected that they're vegan. And when I'm out for a concert or something, you can indulge your carnivore-passion, just as long as I never, ever taste meat." Tom blushed, knowing that she meant she'd be passionately kissing him a lot. "But I expect that, before long, you'll love it. It's much, much healthier." "How was your day today?" Tom asked, making small talk. It was difficult. He'd spent the day getting comfortable in the house, while Becca went to a rehearsal for a few new numbers and then worked late with the director of a music video she was planning. Becca frowned at him. "Is this the 'how was your day, dear' kind of shit? I hope you don't plan on that kind of boring conversation every fucking night." Tom gulped, wondering if she was upset with small talk. "I'm an engineer, remember?" "Not for the next year, you aren't." She licked her lips seductively. "You're my companion. I want you to forget all about logic, precision, and engineering crap, and just let go and be emotional and passionate. And I want you to be free to indulge in your fantasies - if they aren't harmful, that is, and indulge in mine, too." She smiled. "That _is_ what you said was missing, isn't it?" Tom realized she was right. "Okay, but it'll take some practice." "How about if we start by getting you a little more rad hair style?" Becca mused. "Maybe a little change of appearance will help your inner rebel come out." Tom thought for a second. "I guess." "I'll have my stylist see if she can do something with ... that rather blah mess on your head." Tom felt a little nervous. She was talking about a significant change in his appearance on top of his change of clothing style. "Well, maybe." Then again, he thought, he could easily get his hair cut again at the end of the year. It wasn't like a hairstyle was permanent, like a tattoo or body piercings. Becca scooted her chair back and moved to his lap, nibbling at his earlobes and running her fingers through his hair. "You want to be sexy for me, don't you?" "I guess," Tom answered uneasily. "Yeah. That is what the whole deal is about." Becca straightened, pouting. "The 'deal' is about you and I having fun and being adventurous and passionate. You make it sound like some kind of business shit." "Sorry," Tom apologized, feeling that he'd disappointed her by being so blunt and logical. He'd have to work on that. "Maybe if we were a little spontaneous, it'd help you learn to be what you want to be - passionate, bold, and sexy." Tom gulped. "You think ... I could be sexy?" He was astonished at her comment. "I want you to be bold and spontaneous right now," Becca said. "Try to seduce me right here, in the dining room." She leaned closer and nibbled on his ear again. "Some days, rehearsal makes me so ... hot!" As his jaw dropped, she climbed off his lap and sat back in her chair, looking prim, proper, and not at all interested in sex. "Well?" Tom practically leapt from his chair and circled behind her, starting with rubbing her shoulders. He could feel the tension in her muscles; as he massaged, she was practically purring with content. He continued the massage, but leaned forward and began to kiss tantalizingly at her neck. Her head lifted back, exposing more of her neck for his ministrations and letting the sweet scent of her perfume waft into his nose. In no time, the two were intertwined on the floor, their grunts and cries of passion echoing through the room. ********** "You sure don't look like you did the last time I saw you in the office," Ken said, disbelief in his eyes. He and Tom sat at a bar, near where Tom worked before he started his sabbatical. "Are you trying to find yourself or something like that?" Tom sipped his beer and smiled. "No. I just needed a break." "Does that include a break from your marriage?" Ken sighed. "You took a leave of absence from work, without telling anyone why. You're separated from Katie, without telling anyone what's going on there." He shook his head. "This isn't like you, man." Tom shrugged his shoulders. "What can I say?" "The rumor is that you've moved in with some other woman." "Yeah, I did." Tom wasn't at all fazed by admitting it. "Who? Is it because you and Katie were always arguing about kids, or because she really was frigid like you claimed?" "I never told you, but Katie had suggested separation or even divorce," Tom admitted. He took another drink. "We were always fighting, and it was getting worse. So when Becca made an offer to us, Katie was more eager to take it than I was." "Becca?" Ken frowned. "Who's Becca?" Tom smiled wryly. "She's my housemate for the year. Or more precisely, I'm her companion." "Sounds like a gigolo thing," Ken chuckled. "Is she at least cute and sexy? Why didn't I ever hear of this Becca?" "You've heard of her. And yes," Tom grinned, "she's extremely cute and sexy." "So who is she?" "You know her better by her stage name." Tom let Ken puzzle and ponder for a few moments, confused and overly curious. "Winter." "Winter?" Ken exclaimed, drawing attention from other bar patrons. "You're kidding!" He stared at Tom for a moment, and then a grin crept across his face. "Good one. You almost got me." In answer, Tom took out his cell phone and flipped through the pictures stored in it. "There," he said, showing Ken a few pictures of him, Becca, or both of them on various outings - at an amusement park, shopping, on a beach, and even kissing. Ken's jaw dropped. "You're ... you're not kidding, are you?" Tom shook his head, smiling. "Nope." "How in the hell did you end up living with Winter? I suppose you're banging her, too!" "You didn't believe me when I told you I met her hiking a few weeks ago, or that I'd been invited to dinner and a concert. We'd talked about marriages and crap, since she'd gone through that nasty divorce of hers, and when she found out the problems Katie and I had, she asked us if I'd like a break from Katie - kind of a practice separation. Katie was so sick of me talking about kids that she jumped at the chance." "Damn!" Ken whistled. "So ... you're going to travel with her, and that's why you took leave?" "Yeah. That and she wanted me to be around her as much as possible, and her schedule is pretty unpredictable." "And that includes ... whenever she's in the mood?" Ken sounded in awe of Tom's arrangement. "But ... that makes you kind of a gigolo, doesn't it?" "I prefer to think of it as a paid vacation." "With benefits," Ken added with an envious smile. "No wonder you look like you do. Definitely not an engineer's style." "Yeah." Tom downed the rest of his beer. "I've gotta run. I've got to get ready for a big party tonight." He stood. "Talk to you later." Tom walked quickly to the door, a spring in his step at Ken's reminder of how the arrangement with Becca was extremely good fortune. ********** "Naughty boy!" Becca scolded Tom, swatting his bare rump. "I'm in charge tonight, remember?" Tom flinched at her swat - it hadn't exactly been gentle. "Okay," he said meekly, trying to sound humble and deferent to her, even though he was getting massively turned on. "Okay?" she asked sternly, firmly grasping his chin with one hand and his balls with the other? "That's not how you address me when I'm in charge, is it?" "No," Tom answered quickly. He felt her squeeze lightly. "Mistress," he added. Becca released her hold on his crotch and pulled his face down, where she initiated a passionate French kiss. When she pulled away, he was practically swooning from the intensity of her kiss. "Very good," she said, smiling. "I'm going to my bathroom to change, and I want you to put these on." She tossed him a pair of her silk panties. She saw his eyebrows rise in surprise at what she was asking. "I'm sure my big boy like to make me happy tonight, right?" she purred. Tom gulped; this wasn't quite what he'd expected. "Um," he stammered, "okay. I guess so." She spanked him again. "You guess so, what?" "Yes, mistress," he answered. "You did say that you were open to some ... playing, didn't you?" She grinned, knowing the answer just from show aroused he was, and the way he held her panties. She turned and strutted into her bathroom to change, leaving him standing, dumbfounded at what had just happened. After a few seconds, he shook off his state of disbelief and looked at the silk panties in his hand. They were lacy and very feminine. "This can't be really happening," he said to himself. Then again, Becca was at her best when she decided to get a little kinky. He stiffened at the thought of what types of games she had in mind. Tom felt a thrill run through his body as he felt the silky undergarment brushing against his genitals. He felt like he was ready to burst from excitement, an excitement that only grew when Becca strutted out of her bathroom wearing nothing but a lacy bra, a garter belt and stockings, and high heels. "I see you like the feel of silk," she said appreciatively as she stared hungrily at his aroused member. Tom nodded eagerly. "Yes, mistress." She beckoned to him. "Come here," she said, gesturing to the floor directly in front of herself. "Pleasure me," she commanded, grasping the back of his head and forcing him to her crotch. ********** "You were right about the diet," Tom said. "I'm finally losing my belly fat." In almost three weeks, he'd lost eighteen pounds, and it showed. His hair was styled in a daring style, almost a little punk, unlike the plain, drab haircut he'd had when he first arrived, and he was wearing far more relaxing clothes. If he'd have been in his engineering job, he would have needed a haircut a couple of weeks earlier. As it was, Becca wanted him to let his hair get longer still so he could have a really rebellious style. He was slowly starting to look like the type of companion one would associate with Winter, instead of the boring engineer he had been. "Told you so," she said with a grin. "By the way, do you think the supplements are working?" Tom grinned. "What do _you_ think?" Becca lay back on her bed, her legs spread apart invitingly. "Enough small talk. Let's get kinky!" Tom bent over her and began to kiss her passionately, starting with her seductive lips, then working his way down to her neck, and dawdling on her firm, modest breasts. Slowly, his lips worked down toward her navel, but she suddenly stopped him, preventing him from going further. Tom sat up, confused. "I ... I thought you really liked it when ..." Becca smiled, but there was something in her eyes. "I do. You're really creative, and you make me feel so good." "But?" Becca sighed. "I guess it's true that engineer types really are more observant. I didn't think you'd be so quick to be able to read me." She sighed again. "It's just ... your facial hair." "But I keep myself clean-shaven" Tom said, confused. "Yeah," Becca said softly, trying not to sound offensive. "But it grows pretty fast, and it's ... pretty scratchy on my thighs," she said reluctantly. "It ... takes away from the fun." "I'll go shave," Tom offered, starting to push himself off the bed. Becca held him, keeping him from rising from atop her. "Let's just do it ... plain," she said. "When we want to be spontaneous, it's ... it's hard for me to get in the mood when your face is sanding the insides of my thighs, or if you have to run off and shave first." She sighed. "But ... I suppose I can get used to just plain sex." She seemed to be pouting a bit. Tom sighed. They'd lost the passion of only moments ago, and he was frustrated. "I can't help it." "I know," Becca sighed, and then she brightened like she had an idea. "Maybe ...." She stopped, shaking her head. "Nah, that wouldn't work." "What?" "Well, Olay makes a special cream for women's facial hair," Becca continued, sounding a bit uncertain, and even nervous. "It's supposed to be like Nair, but for the face. It'd keep your hairy whiskers from being a problem for a few days. It's supposed to make your skin softer and smoother, too. You'd have such a smooth baby face rubbing on me!" Becca purred, letting Tom know that she would really be pleased if he had baby-soft cheeks. Tom perked up. It sounded like a solution. "But ... what about when it starts growing back?" Becca rolled her eyes and laughed. "Didn't you ever notice that women use Nair every few days?" Tom's brow furrowed in thought. "I suppose." Becca's face lit up. She wriggled from underneath him and grabbed his hand. "Let's go." "What?" Tom asked, suddenly suspicious. Becca tried to look sheepish. "I was going to ask you later, so I got the cream in case you wanted to try it." She beamed. "But we can start now. And then ...." She pulled him close, kissing him passionately as she rubbed her hand on his crotch. Tom felt the fog of arousal confusing his thoughts as she rubbed him seductively. "I always hated shaving," he said, not sure if he was trying to convince himself or please her. ********** "I had the garage tow away that boring thing you called a car," Becca announced suddenly at lunch. "It didn't fit my ... our images." "But ...." Tom started to protest. "I need a car to get around." "And we'll get you something a little more suitable," Becca said with grin. "Please don't make me drive the Prius," Tom begged. "I look like a dweeb in that thing!" "I promise," Becca said, holding her right hand erect and her left as if it were on a bible. "I swear." She couldn't contain her mirth any longer, and she started giggling. "In fact, I have a surprise for you out in the garage." Tom's curiosity was piqued. "What?" he asked, struggling to contain his nervousness and excitement. So far, Becca had been more than generous with a new wardrobe, her trainer, her chef, her counselor, and her hair stylist. He felt like he was being overly-pampered. "Close your eyes," Becca said teasingly when they got to the door of the garage. After a few weeks with Becca and her unusual tastes, Tom knew there would be a surprise, and she wasn't going to do anything harmful to him. She might be a little rough, kinky, and dominating in their bedroom play, but she was also very tender and caring toward him all the time, even when she was playing dominatrix. Without hesitation, Tom closed his eyes. Becca took him by the hand and led him into the garage. He knew it was a four-car garage; Becca had her blue Maserati Quattroporte, a red Mercedes-Benz SL63, a Prius, and Tom's little Mazda had taken the fourth bay. Now, if it was gone - Tom strongly suspected that the 'surprise' involved a car. He wasn't disappointed. When he opened his eyes, he beheld a black Benz SL63, matching Becca's, sitting where his Mazda had been. "You're ... kidding!" he exclaimed, surprised at what he saw. Becca smiled warmly. "If you're with me, you need a car that suits your new look and style, and that goes with the image we've created, too." She dangled a key fob in front of him. "It's yours." Tom couldn't help giving her an enthusiastic, heartfelt hug, spinning her around as his lips eagerly sought hers. "It's ... you didn't have to do this for me!" he protested, but weakly, surprised almost beyond words at the generosity of her gift. Becca grinned and kissed him again, a deep French kiss that left the two of them breathless when she was done. "I promised you a year of fun and adventure. I figured this would help the fun part." Tom wiggled his eyebrows. "I like your other idea of fun better," he said with a knowing grin, "but I won't turn down a Benz." He kissed her again, more passionately than before. "How about if you express your thanks ... upstairs?" Becca whispered in his ear, as he eagerly embraced her. "And then, we'll go for a drive? I was thinking of going to a club tonight, so you'll have a chance to drive me tonight." "First things first," Tom said, smiling, as he took her hand and led her back into the house, and then up the staircase toward their bedrooms. ********** "What are your plans for the day?" Tom asked as they ate breakfast at an intimate table setting. Any meals they had at her home, no matter how plain, were set for privacy and intimacy. Becca swallowed a bite of whole-wheat toast and washed it down with a swig of juice. "I've got to work on my new video this morning," she said, "but I was planning on working at home this afternoon on a couple of new songs I'm writing." She licked her lips seductively. "And you know how I get when I'm writing, don't you?" Tom grinned. "I got a couple of rose thorns in my ass when you tackled me in the garden," he said, recalling the passion with which she'd attacked him sexually. "I thought I was so good that you wouldn't remember that," Becca said with a smile. "I am curious about a couple of things," Tom said with a bit of a frown. "Is there something in my vitamins and supplements that's making me so ... aroused all the time?" "Are you complaining?" she asked with a giggle. Tom shook his head quickly. "No, not at all. I was just curious." "It's just an herbal supplement called 'Horny Goat Weed'," she giggled at the name. "And after the first week, when I realized I was wearing you out, my doctor got some daily Cialis for you so you could keep up with me." Tom thought a second about the fact that she was medicating him without his consent. On the other hand .... "I guess it's okay," he said, getting aroused again when he thought of her possibly seducing him in the afternoon. He had wondered why she was so easily able to arouse him, even after they'd had sex once or twice earlier in the day. He felt like he was eighteen again. He couldn't help but smile. "Good," Becca said, relieved. "I'm sorry I forgot to tell you. I promise I'm always checking with my doctor first, so you don't get something that'd be bad for you." "Oh. That explains why I'm getting a checkup every couple of weeks." Tom thought about the checkups. Most of the lab work was standard and innocuous, but the doctor had been insisting on a sperm sample as well, which had confused and embarrassed him. Now, it made sense; the doctor wanted to make sure he wasn't losing any virility. "Still, it would be a little more comfortable if your doctor wasn't a woman." "You didn't seem to mind being dominated by a woman last night," Becca said playfully. Tom laughed. "That was different. The doctor wasn't trying to seduce me." "I don't just try," Becca replied confidently. ********** Unlike th