How is it that some guys get lucky with women all the time? For Burt Olsen, luck has nothing to do with it. In The Floating Threesome he figured out a perfect way to persuade lots of women to have sex. The story unfolds in 11 short chapters. Things take an unexpected turn in Chapter 8.
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I would have loved to spend that first night with Maddy, but she was too sensible to suggest it. We'd just become intimate. Romance is something that is better if you don't rush too much, and we'd rushed enough already.
My fear was that Maddy wouldn't be interested in seeing me again. I planned to invite her to go sailing again, but I was going to leave her alone for a few days so she wouldn't think I was a stalker or some other kind of creep who wouldn't give her enough space.
That's why I was so relieved when Maddy called me first thing the next morning. "Burt, I've got an idea I want to discuss," she said. "When are you free?"
"Today is good. Can I take you to lunch?" I invited her to go to one of my favorite local restaurants, and we agreed to meet there. The only reason I didn't suggest meeting in my office was that Taylor was supposed to come over that day to talk to Jack about some content she wanted to post online. I didn't want Maddy and Taylor to meet each other. None of us had any right to feel we were in committed relationships, but I felt it would be better for everybody if I didn't have to explain that both of them were competing for the same job, and both of them were having sex with me.
We met at a cool little place called
Crave
. They served a fantastic po boy sandwich with a delicious blackened catfish filet. I recommended the po boy to Maddy, figuring that an elite athlete would gravitate toward something that healthy. She ordered the sandwich without the bun. I wish I had that kind of dietary discipline.
"Burt, I used to do a lot of work helping the national gymnastic team get sponsors," Maddy said. "I can't count the number of times they asked me to meet with individuals or corporations to ask for money. I was good at it. I think I understand how it's done.
"What I'd like to suggest is that you let me contact prospective sponsors for your cruise," she said. "I'm sure I could find people who'd be willing to donate contributions in return for being included in your promotions."
Maddy talked a little bit about her plan. She thought that people who make boating components - like radio equipment, or sails - might be open to the idea of supporting a cruise intended to demonstrate the superiority of an advanced new catamaran.
I had no way of knowing how sensible her ideas were. Sponsorships are something I know nothing about. But I knew that I didn't have the budget to hire Maddy to work for me. I was still uncertain how I'd pay for the trip; I wasn't in a position to spend more now.
Maddy shook her head. "Burt, I'm not suggesting you put me on your payroll. What I'd rather do is work as a consultant who's paid on commission. For every dollar I raise, I'd like to get 20 percent."
"Are you sure that's enough?" I asked. "Is that worth your time?"
Maddy gave me that cute little smile that always broke my heart. "You don't have a lot of faith in my idea, do you, Burt?"
"It's not that," I said. "I am completely ignorant about sponsorships. I just don't want you wasting your time on me."
Maddy took my hand. "I believe we've established that I don't see you as a waste of time. Let me give it a try. See what happens."
When I walked Maddy to her car, she gave me a hug and a soulful, passionate kiss. "When are you taking me out again, sailor?" she asked.
"Maddy, I was planning to take a few days off this week. Are you available Wednesday?"
"I'll be there," she said.
I made a decision right then to stop "interviewing" more women for the modeling job. I'd had so much prime pussy that I felt it was time to cut back. Maddy was the 34th prospective model I'd taken to bed, and I finally felt like I'd had enough fresh pussy. I expected I'd be spending lots of time with both Maddy and Taylor, and they were more than enough to provide ample female companionship.
Over the next several weeks I took a lot of cruises with either Maddy or Taylor. We sailed up and down the east and west coasts of Florida. I took them separately to Havana, where we spent a couple of nights in a romantic resort I'd visited with my ex-wife before she caught me in my office screwing Tawny. It provided a good idea of what our upcoming cruise would entail, so I called the trips business expenses and deducted them from my taxes.
I am particularly fond of Cuban music, so we went to wonderful clubs that let us dance all night. Both women seemed pleased that I put forth the effort to take them to such a nice city. At one point I realized that if they ever met and started comparing notes, they'd realize that I'd treated them both exactly the same way. I didn't want them to think they weren't special to me, because I genuinely cared for them.
Jack and Mary made steady progress on the catamaran, and it became easier to imagine taking it on an island-hopping tour. That became even easier to imagine when Maddy announced she'd found a sponsor. "Jack tells me that he wants to use a sail made by the Neptune company," she said. "I convinced them to donate one of their sails, along with a check for $10,000."
Ten thousand dollars! "Maddy, are you serious? That's amazing!"
"I guess," she said. "This is just the first sponsor. I'll get more."
"How can I ever thank you!"
"No thanks required, Burt. After you get the check, you'll owe me $2,000, plus 20 percent of the value of the sail. Retail. You're going to help me make a lot of money, Burt. I should be thanking you."
And Maddy kept finding more and more sponsors. She got a donation of an advanced satellite phone that turned the boat into a mobile wifi hotspot. I've never had a boat with internet access; that's something you tend to find in superyachts owned by billionaires.
Jack had an innovative idea to use electric engines instead of gas; Maddy got sponsorships from the manufactures of the motors, the lithium batteries, and the solar panels. An autopilot manufacturer donated a complete control system, plus a check for $10,000. For reasons I'll never understand, she got a manufacturer of epoxy resin to donate $25,000. This went on, and on, and pretty soon we had more than enough sponsorships to pay for the whole cruise.
