Don’t you want to discuss my fee first?” I asked. “That won’t be necessary. Meet me at 7:00 and don’t be late. Just ask for me, and don...’t worry about dinner, it’s on me.” She said. I had some free time so I decided to do a little internet research on Mrs. Beckwith before we met for dinner. I kept a netbook with me with an AirCard so I have internet access at all times. I learned a number of interesting facts. Her husband, Randall Beckwith, had died in an accident about a year. Normally that does not bother me. Normally. Unfortunately, I needed time to think. If half of what my Annapolis classmate told me is true, then I must decide on the biggest sort of career gamble I can make outside of being in an actual shooting war.I double checked that I was alone. Then I put my head in my hands and rested it on my desk.Why me??Any choice I make will annoy somebody.Odds are that somebody will be able to kill my career.There was a knock at my door.I tried to ignore it.The. Throwing your head back, you collapse, totally spent. Your hair is matted in sweat, your body glistens. He raises his face to look you right in the eyes, he has control of your body, the ability to control all your feelings, and you are so thankful of the sweetness in his touch, the gentleness of his soft caresses. He leans forward and kisses you deeply on the mouth. You love the taste of yourself on his lips, you meet his tongue with each caress. As he leans back, his eyes smiling at you, you. I didn’t want to break up our marriage, it’s just that…”“You enjoy being fucked by someone who really knows how to do it?”There was something in his voice and the words he chose that gave me hope. I nodded, looking up into his eyes pleadingly.“Is he much better than me?” he asked quietly.“Oscar please…” I begged.“Tell me Irene; is he much better in bed than me?”His voice was louder. By now I was only capable of being honest so I lowered my head and nodded again.“Aha! I thought so,” Oscar.