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Just to keep busy, not for financial reasons, he needed a job and a more permanent living arrangement. He started perusing job opening websites. There were plenty of janitorial, maintenance, etc. type jobs to be had as he scrolled through.

He passed through a name that caught his eye, but continued. Then went back to it: Suzanne's. That had a familiar ring to it. Then he remembered. Mrs. Lenora Davis shopped there. Mrs. Lenora Davis the woman who was informed by that astronaut's wife of his true identity.

Now, he remembered. "EJ, I bought this negligee just for you at Suzanne's. Does it show off too much for a woman my age?" "Not at all Mrs. Davis. It shows off the things I like."

"You mean like my titties?"

Another time, Mrs. Davis was wearing lingerie that was white and almost transparent. "EJ, I think it was silly for me to buy this at Suzanne's, but it was so irresistible."

"Why?"

"When I'm with you, EJ, I never expect to have anything on too long," she laughed as she pulled the gown over her head. Bob Smith from Appleton, Wisconsin was interviewed by Suzanne herself. The upscale woman's dress shop needed a general all-around helper, including general maintenance, stocking shelves, trash collector and broom pusher. "Mr. Smith, my clientele are very wealthy, classy women. Please dress and consider your over-all appearance accordingly."

Everything went smoothly. The job was indeed stress-free. He found a suitable apartment not far from the shop, but spent one weekend a month at an upscale midtown hotel, where invariably he found a woman to share his bed. Now that he was approaching thirty, he found college girls, although they were still attracted to him, didn't do all that much for him. However, if it was getting late on a Friday or Saturday night, he'd gladly fall for their flirtations.

The women he ended up with were more likely to be teachers, nurses and other professionals. Often they were in New York to see the sights. Could young, healthy, sexually active woman be as impressed with the Empire State Building as she was with the sight of Bob Smith's glorious cock standing straight up? These women were perfect. They were in New York for just a few days: no commitments, just some good fucking, eating and sucking.

One thing Bob found was that many of these women did things away from home that they'd never do at home. It was kind of a "what happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas," thing. Except this was New York. One woman explained that "back in Indiana, I'd never suck a cock like I've been sucking yours these last two nights. I don't want a reputation. I'll probably end up marrying one of those Indiana boys. Here in New York, they'll never know, right Bob?" She asked as she went down on him again.

The job at Suzanne's lasted less than a year.

Bobbi Sandborne came in to try on a dress that she'd wear to a New Year's Eve gala. A week before the event she came in for a final fitting. "Ms. Sanbourne, all my seamstresses are up to their eyeballs in work and one just went into labor. I can get it to you by noon on New Year's Eve."

"I'll be here. Thank you, Suzanne, I appreciate the last-minute alterations."

New Year's Eve came, and there was no sign of Bobbi Sanbourne. Finally, she called in tears. "There's no way I can get into Manhattan. Can you send someone out to Garden City with the dress? The day has been a disaster."

The Sanbournes and their circle were great customers. As an example, the dress Bobbi purchased cost almost $7,000, plus accessories like a clutch and shoes. Three of her friends purchased similar priced dresses, as did Bobbi's mother. Suzanne looked around the shop. Who could she spare?

She settled on Bob. "I need you to take my car and bring Miss Sanbourne her dress. Here's the dress, my keys and the address. I hope you can make it back for the party."

Suzanne threw a New Year's Eve party for her employees. Some people in his building were throwing a house party, and the owner of a bar he frequented suggested he stop in. "Bob, it's usually a lot of fun, and some of the girls are a little less inhibited than normal." Bob Smith planned on making an appearance at all three events.

Under normal conditions, it should take less than hour to get to Garden City. These weren't normal conditions and it was snowing. Bob left Suzanne's at 4 PM; probably the least optimal time to leave the City. It was almost 7 by the time he reached the Sanbourne mansion.

The entire house was in a tizzy. Bobbi Sanbourne was in tears. "Before you leave, I have to try it on one last time. With everything else going on, I'll just die if it doesn't fit. Wait here. Have a seat. I'll have one of the maids find you something to eat and drink."

There wasn't even a thank you.

Mrs. Lucretia Sanbourne came rushing down the stairs, as Bobbi rushed up with the dress still in its box. "You there, what's your name?" She demanded.

"Bob Smith from Suzanne's."

"Do you have any plans for tonight? Of course, you do, it's New Years' Eve. Change them.' I don't think she came up for air as she spoke.

"I-I-I . . ."

"You look respectable enough," she looked him up and down. "Do you have a suit or a dinner jacket with you? Of course not." Loudly, she called "Jackson."

He was wearing a parka and winter boots. It was still snowing.

"Yes, ma'am," Jackson, the butler or whatever they called him, came running.

"Jackson, Mr. ummmm. . ."

"Smith."

"Yes Mr. Smith will be accompanying Ms. Sanbourne to the gala. You need to find him something appropriate to wear. You know what type of affair this is."

"Yes, ma'am. Mr. Smith come with me." He started walking.

"Wait just one minute. I have Suzanne's car. I'm expected back at the shop before closing, and yes, I do have plans for this evening."

"Mr. Smith," Mrs. Sanbourne got right in my face. "We are having a crisis here, and I would appreciate you're cooperation." The woman was barely five feet tall, perhaps in her late fifties or early sixties, and for her age, beautiful and of course, well-dressed.

"What kind of crisis? It doesn't look like anyone died."

"If you must know. My daughter's fiancé left her; left her for another woman. They had a June wedding planned. The gala tonight is the biggest event on our social calendar. Bobbi must be there for appearances sake, and she needs a date. Mr. Smith, you are our last resort."

"Ummm, I should get back to Manhattan."

"Mr. Smith, I shall call Suzanne. I assure you everything will be okay. Please, let Jackson dress you."

Eliot Rascher (aka Bob Smith) was of average height and weight. With some minor alterations handled by a maid, dress shirt, pants, shoes and a dinner jacket were ready by 9 PM. Ms. Sanbourne was scheduled to arrive at the Garden City Hotel, the scene of the gala, at 10.

In the limo, "thank you for doing this. My mother can be overbearing, but it is a crisis. It's Mr. Smith, right?"

"If we're on a date, I'd suggest Bob is fine."

There was an orchestra, and Bobbi Sanbourne insisted on dancing to the big band sounds which played the music of Glenn Miller, the Dorsey Brothers, Artie Shaw, etc.

"Miss Sanbourne, even though I work for Suzanne, I have to say the dress is stunning." It wasn't just the dress that was stunning; Bobbi Sanbourne was the most beautiful woman he'd ever seen. The midnight blue floor-length gown contrasted perfectly with her long blonde hair, which her hair dresser piled high on her head this afternoon. The dress clung to her large breasts and well-proportioned ass. Eliot could only surmise what treasure might there be where her long legs met.

"Please call me Bobbi. About the dress, I think it's much too risqué for a first date, but . . ." She briefly covered her chest with her hand.

Eliot had already looked. Yes, there was a lot of cleavage showing, which of course meant that Bobbi Sanbourne had a lot of tits.

He thought to himself, "I have to erase such thoughts from my mind. I'm unlikely to get anywhere tonight. I might still get back to Manhattan where there should be more opportunities.

As for one of those opportunities: at the house party in his apartment building, he was expecting to see a neighbor, Meg Allen. They'd run into each other in the elevator a number of times. Her smile indicated that there might be some possibilities in the future. What better time than New Year's Eve?

Yesterday he'd cleaned his apartment and this morning he'd changed the sheets. He was hoping that Meg Allen was amiable. If he couldn't get back to Manhattan that would be impossible. He was stuck with Bobbi Sanbourne.

Maybe stuck wasn't the right word. Maybe there was a chance.

At midnight the band played "Auld Lang Syne." People sang; Bobbi took his hand and sang along. The lights went low. "Happy New Year, Bobbi," he kissed her on the cheek; much like you would your sister.

"Oh, Bob, it's New Year's Eve. You can do better than that." She kissed him on the mouth, then with her tongue and grinded against him.

"Ummm, Ms. Sanbourne??" He mumbled. "Let's get some champagne to celebrate." For a brief moment, it flashed through his mind, the night he licked champagne from Dr. Liz Redfort's pussy.

That thought passed quickly. He considered that Bobbi Sanbourne was a tease. He was thinking how he'd get back to Manhattan and how he'd get Suzanne's Mercedes back to her. He realized that he couldn't drive after all he drank.

"I'll be back shortly," Eliot told her.

The hotel was huge, but he was able to find the front desk. It took longer than expected. He asked, "I know it's New Year's Eve, but I wonder if you might have a room for tonight?"

"You're with the gala?"

"Yes, I'm Ms. Sanbourne's date."

"We've reserved a number of rooms for gala guests."

"Thank you." He handed over his credit card.

Back at the ballroom where the gala was still going strong. He found Bobbi. "Where did you go? I thought maybe you left."

"No, there's no way I can drive back to Manhattan, and it seems to be snowing hard. I went to the front desk and reserved a room for tonight."

"Smart idea." She was thinking. He's the stock boy and janitor at Suzanne's. How could he afford a room here? The Garden City Hotel was as fine a hotel as there was on the island; prices rivaled those at the best hotels in Manhattan.

Bobbi didn't say that out loud, but what she did say is, "Bob, I'm so jealous, Brandon and I planned on staying here tonight, to celebrate our engagement."

"So, you were going to have your wedding night before the wedding," he laughed.

"Oh, Bob, don't be silly. I'm twenty-eight-years-old. If you must know, I lost my virginity a long time ago, but this was going to be a special night for us. Our first night sleeping together."

"Good for you."

"I was so looking forward to it. A few weeks ago, in Suzanne's I bought a naughty garter belt for Brandon." "Oh yeah, I think I put them on the shelf. Very sexy."

"Did you know they were designed to be worn without undies? In fact, even though there is no Brandon, I wore it tonight. I feel so sexy."

"Ms. Sanbourne, if I . . ."

"Bobbi."

"Yes, well Bobbi, if I hadn't had too much to drink, and it wasn't New Year's Eve, I might think that you were trying to excite me."

"No, Bob I wasn't." She grinded against him again and whispered in his ear, "if I wanted to excite you, I'd tell you I got a wax last week."

"Now, just trying to picture that has me excited."

"If you invite me to your room, I'll show you that garter belt and if you're lucky my wax."

"Have you had too much to drink?"

"No, but I do have to admit, I'd been looking forward to getting laid. It's been since Thanksgiving. Brandon had to go and fuck it up."

"How about this? I'm in room 1171. I'll leave the door unlocked. If you really want to show me your garter belt, you can join me, but just so you know, I sleep naked."

Bob Smith kissed her on the cheek. "Thanks for a lovely evening. It's the fanciest New Year's Eve I've ever spent."

TO BE CONTINUED

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