Driven Lust Read Online Free PDF Page B

up your trip ... yeah, you got
her. Listen James, if she tells you to wipe her ass, you best ask
her if she wants to start from the front or the back, do you
understand?"
    "Yes sir, understood." James replied; a
little shocked they would break a rule like this. Usually, only the
drivers are insured and anything happening to the vehicle with
someone else driving would not be covered, not to mention the
liability should that person be harmed. He couldn't ask what made
her so special right in front of her. All he could do was comply
with the order. James hung up and glanced at his client, riding in
the front of his car, and looking at him.
    "So, if I need my ass wiped, would you
really do it?" she asked, then grinning, "I like it front to back
if it helps."
    "I'm sorry; I didn't know you could hear
him." James apologized. Damn that boss of his. A crude man with
little etiquette, construction workers had more class. He not only
hired James, he also worked the same shift, making him James' boss.
He learned to tolerate the man due only to his position.
    "So?" she inquired.
    "So, what?" James asked confused.
    "Would you?" she asked.
    "Would I what?" not understanding where this
was going.
    "Would you or would you not wipe my ass?"
she taunted.
    "You wouldn't want me to. I am a male after
all. I could take advantage of it, wouldn't you think?" avoiding
the question all together.
    "But if I wanted you to, you would?" she
kept pressing.
    "I would for my own selfish reasons." he
assessed. "You must realize that."
    "You are hard to get a straight answer from,
Mr. Farlow." she sighed.
    James had only supplied his first name on
Saturday. She must have obtained it at his work. Even more,
requested him for this trip. The paperwork was in his briefcase in
the trunk so he couldn't verify his assumption at the moment. He
made a mental note to check when he had the chance.
    Pulling into the country club, the valet
took the car. They entered with Cathleen's arm wrapped around his.
The beauty of the place was astonishing. From the cathedral
ceilings to chandeliers, it was an immaculate establishment.
    Cathleen was greeted by another patron whom
she introduced as Gerald Green. James was struck by his jewelry, as
it reflected the lighting. Obviously, he had great wealth and
wanted to flaunt his fortune.
    "Gerald, this is my consort, Mr. James
Farlow." Cathleen introduced.
    "Ah, a fortunate man to have such beauty on
his cuffs." reaching out his hand.
    Shaking the man's hand, James replied, "A
gift from heaven I believe, and I am blessed."
    They chatted a few minutes for a while and
let the man go to his other friends. Cathleen led him to the
balcony where wicker chairs sat in front of the view. A stone table
separated them. Taking a seat, James was greeted by a waitress
seeking an order.
    "Would the good lady like a beverage?" James
asked.
    "Indeed; a gin and tonic please." Cathleen
replied.
    "A soda for me, preferably ginger ale?"
James asked.
    At this point, James wasn't sure why
Cathleen would even bother with all this, since it seemed the only
purpose would be to have prominent people witness her with
James.
    That puzzle was solved with the arrival of
another patron.
    "Miss Spencer, a pleasure." a man spoke
directly behind James.
    "Ah, Mr. Davies, likewise." Cathleen
responded, and gestured to the third wicker on her right.
    James was aware of only one Davies, that
person owned the company he worked for. Although they had never
met, James heard nothing but good things about him. He wondered if
there was a relation standing in front him.
    "Frank, this is my consort, Mr. James
Farlow." Cathleen introduced.
    "It is certainly a pleasure meeting you
sir." James responded, shaking the gentleman's hand.
    "Farlow, Farlow ... Seems I know a Farlow."
he mumbled, releasing the hand shake.
    Frank took the seat offered and James sat
down following him. The next few minutes was spent with idle chit
chat that usually starts any conversation. It died after the