The Tales of Ariel Brody

I had to smile. In a way, my life had come full circle. I could remember thinking how empty my dating/sex life was the morning before I met David Knowles when I was only barely eighteen. Over the course of the next two years and eighteen days I had: ended my 42 hour career as a prostitute, met and fell in love with a man 45 years my senior, and been swept into a life altering whirlwind in the person of David Knowles.

David ended my hooking career by getting me the best job in the world working for Frank Wright at his Gateway Farm. He paid my tuition at Cornell and loved me as much as I loved him until the day he died of cancer. Since then my life had settled into a new routine. A different routine perhaps but at least the periods of bursting into unexpected tears were reducing in number. I was also beginning to become acutely aware of my lack of a sex life. I spend the evening David died as a volunteer fraternity slut but however many sex acts I performed, they well all totally forgettable. I seduced (was seduced by?) my bosses wife one night and although it was nice I couldn't ever picture myself as permanently switching teams. Since then, nothing.

Oh, I had dated a couple of times at school, but it had felt more like babysitting than the potential pairing of peers. The one good thing about the lack of a social life was that I was able to carry a heavier course load and still maintain excellent grades. I was even devoting some time to the campus paper. I bounced down the steps after my last Friday class and saw Howard sitting at the bottom waiting for me. Howard Barnes is my best friend and the Chairman of the Board of Trustees of the Knowles Family Trust. His closest

real

description would be my nanny, but no one would understand that. He looks after me.

He looked up at me. "Ready to go?"

"I'm all packed. I just need to stop by the paper to proof two submissions. Ten minutes, tops. Figure two hours and we'll be in the air."

"I'll call in the flight plan and get your bag. Pick you up outside the paper."

"Right." I headed over to the Cornell Daily Sun, our local rag I worked for occasionally. Just next to the door a man was waiting, from the look on his face apparently for me. "Can I help..." I recognized him. "Oh my God! What cat dragged you in and what are

you

doing in Ithaca?" It was a reporter named Bob Grasso I had once helped out of a jam down in D.C.

"Actually, I couldn't find your phone number, mainly because you never gave it to me, so I Googled you and came across an article you had written for this paper. I called and found out you were on staff so I came up here to try to get your phone number."

"...and you wanted it because?" I was enjoying this.

"I wanted it because I wanted to call to find out when a respectful amount of time had passed so that I could call you."

I gestured for him to get on with it. "...because..."

"...so I could call to ask you to dinner."

"Oh. 607-555-7856" I continued into the building hiding the little smirk I was wearing. It took another eight seconds for my cell to ring. "Hello."

"Hi, this is Bob Grasso. Do you remember me?"

"Let's see... No, I don't think I... wait... at David's funeral... 6'3", dark hair, dimples, the left cheek of your butt is slightly more developed than your right, mouth starts talking 12 seconds before your brain kicks into gear... I think I remember you."

"Good, I'm glad... I'll have to remember to work on my right cheek, though. Anyway, I called to find out if a respectful amount of time has passed since the funeral so that I might call and ask you to dinner."

I hesitated for a few seconds. "Yes... yes I think so; you may call if you like." I hung up.

My phone rang. "Hi, this is Bob Grasso and I was wondering if you'd like to go to dinner this evening."

"Oh Bob, I'm so sorry but I have plans for this evening. Besides, I only date men with a highly developed sense of spontaneity."

His voice sounded indignant. "Hey, that's unfair! I have a

very

highly developed sense of spontaneity."

"Do you Bob, do you really? Okay, my plans for this evening are to proof two articles for the paper and immediately head for the airport to fly to Lexington, Kentucky for the weekend. Want to come along so that I can feed

you

dinner if I promise that I won't sleep with you all weekend?"

He didn't hesitate. "Definitely!"

I decided he might have possibilities. "I'll be out in two shakes. If my friend Howard shows up tell him I'll be right down." I was two paragraphs into the first article when I realized that I had just mixed a testosterone cocktail. Howard was still harboring a ton of resentment toward Bob over something stupid he had said at the funeral. It was only through my intervention that I stopped him from destroying Bob's career. I marked both articles 'APPROVED' and initialed them both. As I ran out of the offices I hoped that neither article contained instructions for building a nuclear bomb.

There was charged atmosphere on the sidewalk outside the paper. I decided bubbly was the right attitude to project. "Hey guys! Let's boogie. You guys know each other, right?" I hooked my arms into Bob's left arm and Howard's right so that I separated them.

The takeoff was uneventful and after the tower passed me over to the departure control frequency I reported in to them and then said to Howard "I'll continue to fly the aircraft and you can go back to the cabin if you promise not to be too

male

around Bob."

"Since when is righteous indignation a male linked characteristic? Besides, not to worry, my boss told me to let him slide. So I will! You have the aircraft."

"I have the aircraft and bring me a water if you get a chance."

"Better yet I'll send

Bob

back with it." He gestured as if to slap me. "I told you from the beginning not to think with your crotch."

I smiled and put my hand between my legs. "Be nice, and besides, it's smarter than the average crotch."

"It's been my experience that it's the most irrational part of any mammal's anatomy. Deer run in front of cars because of it, shy, normally introverted people expose themselves to public ridicule over it, and normally bright veterinary students who otherwise should know better hook up with members of the one class of people most stridently to be avoided; the media. They're by and large soulless, honey."

Air Traffic Control said something I didn't catch. "Pittsburgh Control Citation three two one Golf Sierra please repeat... copy that, One Golf Sierra right ten degrees flying heading two two zero." I turned back to Howard. "I'll be careful and besides it's only a weekend thing."

I drove us to the farm in 'my little burro' as I liked to call my bright orange H2. "Howard, could you do me a favor and give Bob the nickel tour? I want to do my inventory." My 'inventory' was when I went over the files of every horse on the property to bring me up to speed with everybody's health and training progress since I left last week. It was a ritual I'd been following as long as I'd been working there. I noticed only one anomaly in the files. I picked up the phone and called Frank Wright, my boss. "Hey Frank I was going over the files and noticed that Carlos stepped up the training schedule for the Anacreontic filly. Did he goof or is that right? What's up?"

"What's up is that her half brother just sold for $750,000. I was going to run her myself but for that kind of money I'll aim her for the two-year-old in training sale in Florida. I want you to keep a close eye on how she handles the stepped up physical stress, especially on her knees. Coming to dinner?"

"Okay if I bring a guest? I picked up a stray in Ithaca."

"Sure, as long as he's housebroken. Is Kathleen going to try to seduce him?"

"I don't know... I've never seen him under fire before but he comforted me when I lost it at David's funeral so I thought he deserved to be fed."

"At the funeral? Do you mean that reporter?"

"Hey wait a minute. I always thought you were active in hiring and encouraging the handicapped! Maybe you can convince him to get a real job someday."

"See you at seven thirty."

I walked out of my office and saw the golf cart heading down the path toward me. I stuck out my thumb. Bob pulled up in front of me and got out of the cart. "Sorry, I never pick up hitchhikers. Want to walk somewhere?"

I looked him up and down. "Um hum... I was just judging your sizes. Let's see if we can scare up something for you to change into for dinner. How was the grand tour?"

"Abbreviated. Basically Howard told me about all the carnivorous beasts he'd introduce me to if I did anything to displease him or you. If his primary job is to look after you, he does it very well."

"Yes he does. He's my best friend. Come on; let's get you out of those clothes."

"You first."

I looked over my shoulder. "Cute!" I took him to the guest's bungalow and rummaged through the assorted menswear we'd accumulated over time. "I don't see anything suitable. I'll go get something. What are you, around a 42?"

"44 tall actually."

I did a rotten Schwarzenegger. "I'll be back."

"Want me to come and try something on?"

I hesitated. "Do you mind not? I was going to look in David's suite and I'm not quite ready to share that space with anyone yet." I smiled. "...but if I'm successful at least you'll get into

someone's

pants tonight. Shower if you want."

Sneaky, sneaky, sneaky. I fully meant what I said at school about promising not to sleep with Bob that weekend but by the end of a leisurely dinner I knew without a shadow of a doubt that I was his if he wanted me. He accomplished this feat by barely acknowledging my presence throughout the meal, choosing instead to devote his energies to winning over the other three members of our dinner party. Kathleen was easy; her open and honest personality started out liking everyone until they committed some unpardonable error which moved them over to the negative side of her ledger, but the two men I knew would be different. I had approached dinner with some degree of trepidation fearing Bob would wind up saying something either Frank or Howard would find so objectionable that it would reflect badly on me for having invited him over a clearly negative predisposition on both their parts. Instead he charmed the pants off of both of them. He knew just enough about horses and racing to draw Frank out of his normally taciturn shell and after throwing in several anecdotal embarrassing stories about several prominent horsemen he owned Frank.

And he was knowledgeable about Ukioé. Howard had devoted a large part of his life to taking care of first David and then me, but his was certainly not a life anyone would call 'well rounded'. His two overriding passions, however, were baseball and 19th century Japanese woodblock art, Ukioé. When Howard found out that Bob owned an Utamaro I knew that although there may be minor skirmishes yet to be joined, the battle for Howard's soul had already been won. Add in the fact that through his Washington Post friends he could probably get Howard great seats at RFK when Major League Baseball moved the Montreal Expos to D.C... Howard may not have quite become a Bob Grasso fan, but he was certainly impressed. By the time desert was served his hand had squeezed mine three times. I was getting complimented for picking a good one, I'd done well.

Of course I knew we had been researched. Bob had simply done his homework and through his media sources had gotten up to speed on all our likes and interests. Knowing that, however, in no way detracted from its effect in my eyes. If anything I found I was flattered that he would go to so much trouble to get into my panties.

I'm amazed that we made it to my bungalow the way we were pawing at each other as we walked down the lane from the main house. By the time we got to my door every belt buckle was undone, as was my bra, and three or four articles of our clothing wound up spending the night on my front porch. He bent me over the back of my living room sofa, yanked my skirt and panties off and jammed his cock into me. All foreplay had occurred on the lane on our way home. The volume control on my orgasm was set on 10 and anyone in the main house must have heard me as I was sure I had frightened a few of the foals in the surrounding paddocks. We moved to my bed for a more serious and intimate tryst and it seemed that he might have been as sexually backed up as I was since there was an overriding sense of urgency in everything we did together. We reawaked after a few hours to head down to the pool for a swim and a third encore. We were still in the pool wrapped in each others arms when the sun told me that the day had begun. Work starts on a horse farm at 4:30 AM and there were enough people around that we'd be sure to be spotted going back to our bungalows from the pool. I got out of the pool and went to the cabañas to get robes for us as we hadn't bothered to dress when we came down.

I went to the women's side only to be confronted by the fact that the cleaning staff had already 'winterized' the place by removing all the towels and robes. I went around to the men's side with low expectations of any improvement in our situation. I muttered a low "Thank you Frank!" upon finding one lonely towel hanging from one of the hooks. My boss occasionally took late night swims as a stress reliever and had apparently brought along a towel from the big house. I brought it back to the pool and as I approached Bob I started shaking my fist. "Rock paper scissors, ready?"

"Wait a sec, what are we deciding?"

"There's only one skimpy towel in the cabañas. One of us has to go back and retrieve clothes for us both."

"Hold it up to yourself." I held the towel up and it was large enough to cover my bottom or top, but no way could it stretch to cover both. He said. "I rest my case. Tell me what to bring for you."

"I don't care, just something I can use to cover up. Once I get to the bungalow I'll change or whatever."

He got out of the pool and kissed me as he wrapped himself in the towel. "I'm hoping for the 'whatever' part."

"I thought you might, now get going. I'm getting Goosebumps."

"But your nipples look just so great this morning I..."

"Bob Grasso if you ever want to touch them again..."

"I'm going!" He wrapped himself in the towel and took off down the path. I looked at my watch and groaned. It was 6:15 which meant Frank and Kathleen would be up and around. I was going to catch a lot of ribbing.

By 7:10 I was getting concerned. It just didn't take that long to grab a few articles of clothing and get back. I mentally went over the steps I'd need to take between the pool and my clothes and concluded that if Bob didn't come back in the next twenty minutes I might be able to make it unseen when the staff went on breakfast break at 7:30.

When my watch hit 7:30 I decided to try it. I tiptoed out of the pool area crouched low and then stood up straight and started walking. If someone was going to see me they'd see me and it didn't matter if I were crouched or walking tall, I was still just as naked. As I rounded the landscaped berm I was greeted with polite golf applause. I looked up the hill and there were Howard, Frank, Kathleen, and Bob sitting in folding lawn chairs applauding my nudity. Bob feebly called out "They made me!" and then joined in with the laughter of the rest. I walked over toward them, did a mock curtsy, and walked as proudly as I could, not back to my rooms and clothing, but to the building housing the offices and labs. I had work to do that day and I'd rather spend the day naked than admit they'd gotten one over on me. I'm sure it would get rather interesting as the morning wore on as I was scheduled to show a couple from New York a three year colt. I was determined to keep that meeting no matter what I was wearing.

Kathleen came into my office with a small suitcase. She didn't say anything but opened the suitcase on the conference table. She removed and laid out underwear, jeans, a plaid shirt, socks, and my 'slop-around' work boots. She zipped the case closed and as she turned to leave said "For what it's worth, he was telling the truth. He took a wrong turn on his way back to your bungalow and wound up in the supply building. Carlos called the house and we all came down for the fun. Bob objected but we overruled him... For what it's worth." She left.

I continued working for another two or three minutes and then slammed my fists down on the desk. There was no one for me to vent at so I stormed over to the counter grabbed my panties and started to dress. I said aloud "At least he didn't get the morning fuck he wanted!"

The morning went smoothly. The New Yorkers bought the colt. I got an offer from one of Scott Lake's owners for a mare in foal which I'd bring to Frank's attention over dinner. It was almost one o'clock and I was ready for some lunch. I finished up a pharmaceutical order and faxed it in just when Bob walked in. I could hardly wait to see what form his apology would take when he started undressing.

"You're taking an awful lot for granted aren't you fella?" He didn't respond but as he finished undressing he took all his clothes, put them in a metal waste basket, and carried it out the back door. "What do you think you're doing?" He went into the surgery, took a bottle of alcohol off the shelf, poured it all over his clothes, and lit the fire.

He turned to me. "Are you about ready to go to lunch? Kathleen asked us up to the house for some shrimp something or other."

I couldn't help it. I just started laughing. "I should make you come up to the house like that, but I'm afraid you'd enjoy it too much. I'll get you some clothes." I kissed him on the way out.

Kathleen pulled out all the stops at lunch. She knew I had a weakness for Cajun cuisine and I guessed that was the form her apology took. Everyone was treading gently around me and I was reveling in it.

"By the way Frank, we got an offer for Diamond Lilly from one of Scott Lake's people for $200,000. I think we should take it."

"I don't know, Ariel, she's one of my three most useful mares and if it's born reasonably correct the foal's got to be worth one twenty five."

"Which means you'd be getting seventy five thousand for a sixteen-year-old mare. And the foal's only worth that if it's correct, but if it is we won't sell it for that, we'll keep it at least until it's a yearling and who knows what it'll develop into by then. We could take the two hundred and buy those three mares you were talking about Dr. West having for sale. The foals those mares are carrying probably won't be worth as much but with those killer bloodlines I'd be shocked if at least one of the mares didn't turn into a AAA producer and they're all five-year-olds."

Frank looked at me for less than five seconds. "Do it. Let's eat."

I couldn't help seeing Howard unobtrusively clenching his fist in a "You Go Wench!" congratulatory gesture. Bob's jaw just remained open, and Kathleen was the only one who seemed to take my little coup in stride as if it was only to be expected, no biggie! Does business success make most people horny? It surely did it for me.

The walk back after lunch was delightful. I had a bit of free time and I still was feeling that triumphant horny glow. Bob knew he was going to get lucky, I knew I was going to get lucky, but there was none of the frenzied groping of the previous night. He had his hand in the back of my pants, just as I had mine in his pants. We didn't even kiss until we got to the bungalow door. We did continue the trend of undressing each other outside on the front porch. Observant folk could keep track of our sex life just by checking the porch for stray garments.