The Road to Love

The journeyman was Jake. He told the woman that we needed to replace a capacitor for her. We usually charged $50 for the part. He told her the part would cost $150. I knew how that worked. The extra hundred was to reclaim that "free" service call.

She wrung her hands, saying that they couldn't afford to fix it. Jake leaned towards her and said that there were other ways to pay.

She said, "Our credit cards are all maxed out. Our credit is overextended. There's no other way to pay, believe me."

"What if I reduce the price of the part to $40 and take the labor out in trade? That would be a total of $40. Can you afford that?" asked Jake.

"You're saying you would take sex for the labor, right?"

"You said it, not me," Jake replied.

"Get out of my house," she yelled. "I may be broke, but I'm not a prostitute," she screamed.

"Suit yourself," Jake responded as he started packing up our tools. When he walked out to the truck, I told her not to worry. I said that I would come back on my lunch break and fix it for her.

She put her hands on her hips saying, "So what do you want in return? What's the catch with you?"

"I want you, your husband, and your children to be comfortable in this hot weather. I won't be demanding anything from you," I responded.

"I'll believe that when I see it," she barked.

"OK, be here at noon and you'll see it," I responded.

When I showed up at noon, I used a capacitor that I had removed from a unit that had a bad compressor. The perfectly good capacitor had ended up on the junk pile. There was nothing wrong with it. It was as good as new.

I had the job finished in 30 minutes and was putting my tools in my car when she came out to talk to me.

"You're for real, aren't you?" she exclaimed.

"I did what I promised, for the reason that I gave you," I smiled.

"I appreciate that. I really do. But what do I tell my husband? That you fixed it for free? You know what he will suspect, don't you?"

"I see what you mean," I admitted. I wrote her a service receipt. It stated that I had made a small adjustment and there would be no charge since it only took a few minutes and she had a coupon for the service call.

She thanked me tearfully. Then she gave me a napkin containing several homemade cinnamon rolls. As I was walking toward my truck, I heard her yell, "Thanks again."

I shouted at her over my shoulder, "Just take care of your children and your husband. And while you're at it, take care of yourself. I like your spunk."

I think she was in shock. Isn't it a shame that we've come to that?

I don't want you to think that I'm going to be nominated by the pope for sainthood; so, with that in mind, I've got to tell you about another event.

College Babes:

This time, the journeyman had sent me on the job by myself.

The problem was at an apartment complex where each unit had its own air conditioner. When I knocked on the door, two college babes invited me in. The apartment was hot. The AC fan was moving air, but the air was hot.

I went outside and immediately noticed that the breaker for their outside unit had been thrown. I knew there had been a thunderstorm the previous night. In all probability, the breaker threw during the storm. This was a super-easy fix. Just throw the breaker and collect for a service call.

I asked the girls when they noticed the problem. As I suspected, they noticed it right after the storms were over. At that point, I decided to play a bit with the coeds. I told them that there was a leak in the system. I told them I had put a tracer chemical in the line and any time after an hour or so, I would be able to locate and fix the leak using a sniffer.

I explained that I would leave for my next service call since they wouldn't want to pay me for an hour of just waiting around. I might be able to get back that evening or it might have to be tomorrow morning.

I knew this would get them to thinking since the forecast called for over 100 degrees again.

Sure enough, they asked what the cost would be for me to stay and fix the problem. I quoted them some ridiculous figure.

Then they took the bait. "What if we could make that hour interesting for you?"

"How interesting? You mean play monopoly or something?"

"We can play monopoly if you want, but the rules will be different. First, everyone's naked. Second, what you collect for passing 'go' is worth a lot more than $200 worth of fake money."

I got their drift. I accepted their hospitality.

It was something very new for me. I had never before experienced an FFM, MFF, FMF, or whatever it was. I'm not sure what the difference is or which one we did, but I was flabbergasted at what it was like with those two young foxes!

I got some new and unique experiences out of it, but all-in-all, it left a lot to be desired. They spent more time with each other than with me. At best, they were "ac/dc." I think they were a full-blown lesbian couple.

When the strap-on device came out, I could see why they weren't too impressed with what I had to offer. That thing was huge!

When they expressed a desire to use it on me, I decided enough time had passed to fix the leak.

I got dressed, threw the breaker, and got out of there as fast as I could. Guess I'm not too good at this sex-for-payment thing.

If this one doesn't convince you that I'm no saint, maybe my next adventure will.

Jane:

This time the customers were Jane and Jerry Holmes. They were probably around fifty years old. She was a high seven on the looks-scale, and he was in a wheelchair. During my analysis of their AC problem, I learned that Jerry had been in a bad accident and was paralyzed below the waist. The guy that hit him had no insurance, and they didn't have uninsured motorist coverage. To make a short story shorter, they were having a rough time financially.

As luck would have it, their compressor was bad. They shuddered at the cost of replacing it. Jane said, "I guess I'll just buy some more fans and make the best of it. It doesn't bother me too much, but it's really tough on Jerry," she murmured.

I looked down my list for the day and found a scheduled call to one of the high-dollar communities. They had a similar unit that was a couple of steps up in quality, but compatible. They complained that their unit ran too much. I saw that as a "Robin Hood" possibility.

I told Jane that I would try to come up with a cheaper solution. She didn't make me any offers, but of course, Jerry was right there.

"How long will it take until you know?" she asked.

"I'll let you know as soon as possible. Maybe I'll have something to tell you today."

"I sure hope so. That would be great. Thank you so much," she responded.

When I arrived at the house in the high-dollar community, I ran extensive tests on their unit. There was absolutely nothing wrong with it. I told the lady that it was in tip-top condition. She repeated her assertion that it just "ran too damn much."

I explained to her that the AC unit is most efficient when it's not constantly shutting off and having to restart. I told her she was saving money with the unit she had. A larger unit would run less, but it would not be as efficient. It would cost her more to operate.

"I don't give a damn about efficiency. The electric bill is of no concern to me. I just don't want the noise. Can you give me one that will run less or not? That's all I want to know."

"Yes ma'am, I can do that. But it's my duty to tell you that you'll be wasting money. The new unit will be expensive and to add insult to injury, it will be more costly to operate."

"What will it take to convince you that I don't give a crap about that. In fact, if you can get a machine installed by this time tomorrow evening, I'll give you an extra $500 cash that you don't have to mention to your employer."

I knew that it would be an easy installation. All the wiring and necessary pipes and connections were already in place. This would be a steal.

"Ma'am, if you're serious, I think I can have it running for you by sundown today."

"Young man, do that and I will raise that $500 to $1,000."

She just gave me an offer I couldn't refuse.

On my way back to the office, I called Jane and told her I would come by to fix her unit tomorrow morning.

I swung by the office, picked up the new unit, and enlisted some help. Before sundown, we had installed a very inefficient AC for a very deficient customer. But you know what? She was happy, I was happy, and Jane and Jerry would soon be happy. It was a win all around. Then there was some icing on the cake. That rich bitch called the company two days later and praised my work. Even my boss was happy! But I'm getting ahead of myself.

By noon the next day, the perfectly good unit that I removed from that rich bitch's house was busy keeping Jane and Jerry cool. They were happy beyond words.

Jane walked me to my truck. Then she really startled me.

"I can't begin to repay you for this, but I want to try. Here's the deal, we have a professional home care provider that comes in every Wednesday. She starts at 9 in the morning and finishes at 5:30 in the evening. She takes Jerry's vitals and provides professional care for a day. She always encourages me to leave while she's there, so I can get a break from caregiving.

"I would be more than happy to come to your house or anywhere else you choose to let you have your way with me. I know that it is not adequate payment, but it's all I can offer."

"Jane, I did what I did for you and Jerry with no strings attached. You are having a tough time and I find myself in a position to help. I'm not about to take advantage of you. I was able to provide something that you and Jerry need and deserve. I'm just thankful that I was able to do it for you. Thanks anyway."

"Roy, I don't think you fully understand my situation. I'm not the angel that you think I am. Don't get me wrong, I love Jerry with every cell in my body, but it's been a year since his accident. There's no way he can fulfill his duties as a husband. I have tried to compensate with things like dildos, but it's just not the same. As unusual as it might seem, repaying you would actually be a much-needed pleasure and sexual relief for me. The fact is, it would probably put me even further in your debt."

I got her drift. I understood what she was up against. As hard as it would be, and it was getting harder by the second; I decided I would make the "sacrifice" if it would make her happy.

It turned out that she came to my apartment every Wednesday during my lunch break. I arranged for those lunches to be extended by an hour. It only stopped after I started dating again. I never dated during the time that I was with Jane. In fact, I never dated two girls at once, whether or not we had agreed to be exclusive. That's just the kind of hairpin that I am.

Shortly after my apprenticeship was over and I had a good job with a major HVAC company, I became interested in a girl named Shirley. She was a friend-of-a-friend. She was the reason that I decided to stop "sacrificing" with Jane. Maybe it had been a good thing for both of us, but I knew in my heart that while it might not be wrong, it wasn't right either. I'd been seeing another man's wife for much too long.

I felt that Darla was disappointed in me. In a dream, she told me to put myself in Jerry's shoes. "Jane is his wife. She's a married woman."

That said it all!

Shirley:

With Jane in my rearview mirror, I began dating Shirley. She was a big sports fan. She followed all of the local teams. Her idea of a perfect date was attending a sports event.

She often bought the tickets and invited me to the game. It was quite a bit like hanging out with one of the boys. She shouted expletives at the refs and drank beer like water. She was the very essence of a tomboy, but she was interesting and fun.

Her definition of kissing was something you do after a home-run, touchdown, or three-point shot.

We hadn't had sex. In fact, we hadn't "made-out" all that much. I was enjoying our time together, but not thinking much about bedding her.

One night when we were leaving some stadium, she asked me when I was going to invite her to stay all night. Right then, I began thinking about bedding her. Remember, it was her idea!

A couple of nights later, I invited Shirley to stay the night with me. She turned out to be quite a fox in bed. The foreplay was exceptional. When it came time for the finale, she said she wanted me to lay on my back and she would lower herself down on me.

Now, it's not that I'm opposed to the "cowgirl" position or her riding me like a horse, it's just that it was the only way she would perform the act, period. Every time I would attempt to go "missionary" or "doggie," she maneuvered us back to her preferred configuration.

When the sun came up, I felt like I had, "went forth and been conquered."

"Wow," she screamed. "I've never had better sex, Roy. How was it for you?"

I told her that I would like to be in charge at least a time or two. That's when she gave me a talk about "male domination." She had gone through some bad experiences and didn't want to repeat them. She made it plain that either she called the shots, or we called it quits. Reluctantly, I chose "quits." She will, however, always stick in my mind as a unique girl with an unwavering sexual strategy.

Beth:

After I called it quits with Shirley, there was a longer period of dating with Beth. She was a musician. I first saw her at an upscale sports bar that I visited with Shirley. I didn't know if Beth was a big sports fan too, but they certainly knew each other. When Shirley introduced us, I was immediately attracted to Beth. I was there with Shirley. My hands were tied, so to speak. I admired her from afar.

I "just happened" to go back to that restaurant a few weeks after I chose "quits" with Shirley. Beth was taking requests. I walked up to her piano three different times. Each time I requested a song that I had enjoyed when I was there with Shirley. I put a hundred-dollar bill in the tray with each request.

When I walked up the fourth time, she put her hand over the tray saying, "This one's on me. I think you've won the title of my 'number-one-fan' tonight. I've been trying to place you. I finally remembered, but I don't see Shirley with you tonight. It's Roy, right?"

"Yes, it is. You have a good memory. I'm afraid it's just me tonight, Beth. My Shirley ship has sailed. I was wondering if you know, 'Sitting Alone at a Table for Two.' It would be an appropriate song for sure, but I'm not in mourning or anything."

"I don't know the song, Roy, but I can make it unnecessary as soon as this session is over. There's only one more song tonight. When it's over, with your permission, you will no longer be sitting alone at a table for two."

"That would make this a perfect night, Beth."

As I returned to my table, I heard her saying, "This song is dedicated to my number one fan, Roy." She sang, "Hey Big Spender." I was grinning from ear to ear.

Just as promised, Beth joined me after she finished the song. By the time we were ready to leave, we had scheduled an additional date. We had really "hit-it-off," to say the least.

What an interesting courtship. It lasted almost a year. I was a country/rock-and-roll guy, but she introduced me to jazz clubs and even chamber music.

She was a classy lady in every respect. I do mean in every respect, even in bed. She was the opposite of Shirley. She was submissive in the best possible way. Sex with her was like music. I don't know what she saw in me, but we were exclusive after our second date.

It ended when she received a long-sought scholarship to Juilliard. When she left for New York, we were planning to continue with a long-distance romance. As you might expect, she began moving in different circles. Before long, I was an old, discarded song no longer in her repertoire.

It had been a great gig with Beth, but I knew down deep in my soul that I was not the guy for her. I hope, in fact I know, that good things are in store for her. She brought a brief interval of musical magic to my life. I wish her all the best in her career and in her life.

Monica:

The closest I came to a disastrous mistake was when I was dating Monica. It pains me just to think about it.

We had been dating for quite a while. We had a special relationship. We were good together in almost every way. We were compatible in and out of bed. For every conceivable reason, I had decided that she was the one for me. I thought that Darla would approve.

The only fly in the ointment with Monica was her older sister, June. She had been hinting for a couple of months that it was time for a ring.

Finally, when we were alone together for a few minutes in the kitchen, she said, "Roy, if you are one of those dedicated bachelors or just don't want to be engaged to my sister, I beg you to cut her loose. She will wait for you until hell freezes over. She's determined to be your wife. It's not fair to her if you are not like-minded. If you are wasting her time, do her the favor of telling her the truth. It will break her heart, but she deserves the truth."

That made me mad. I more or less told her it was not any of her business and to bug out. In retrospect, I should have told her about my intentions, I guess.

At that time, I had already designed an engagement ring for Monica and the jewelry store was in the process of filling my custom order. My design featured a large diamond surrounded by sapphires, her favorite jewel.

The following Wednesday, I reserved a big table for 7 pm in our favorite restaurant, which was located in a fancy hotel downtown. I invited Monica, without telling her anything about what I had planned. She thought it was just another date. I suggested that she bring June along. That should have alerted her that this might be a special date, but it obviously didn't.

Wednesday evening, I stayed in the hotel lobby until my three best-buddies from work arrived. Only they knew what a celebration I had planned.

As we entered the restaurant, I noticed June sitting by herself at a table for two with an extra chair pulled up. Only she was there. The other two chairs were empty.

I walked over and said hello to June. She looked surprised and uncomfortable as she noticed my three buddies. She knew something was up. She stuttered as she asked me what was going on.

About that time, Monica entered through the restaurant's back door, the one that led to the hotel rooms. Brandon, a work-colleague, was with her. His arm was around her shoulder. As the door closed behind them, he leaned toward her and they kissed. Then they walked to the table. Monica looked up and her face registered shock when she saw me and my buddies standing at the table. June was waving her arms as if she was trying to send a signal to Monica.

Monica dodged out from under Brandon's arm. She staggered to her chair and sat down looking dazed. Her lipstick was smeared. Her blouse had a couple of buttons undone. Brandon took the remaining chair. His lips shone with traces of Monica's lipstick.

I turned to my buddies and spoke through tears. "I'm sorry guys. Looks like things have changed. The celebration is canceled. Go home to your families. I'm sorry the party didn't work out."

Then I spoke to my buddy, Garry. "Would you stop at the front and tell Jackson to cancel my event. He can remove the food and utensils from the table. I will cover all the expenses that he has incurred." Each of my buddies patted me on the back as they left.

Monica, still looking lost and perplexed muttered, "What just happened? What's going on?"