High Velocity PSA Pt. 02

"I won't have intercourse with you; I love my wife. I'm doing this so I can satisfy her needs."

Tina rubbed my zipper with her hand, undoubtedly feeling the thin pad underneath. She brought her lips to my ear and whispered. "You're an amazing man. I hope I can find a husband like you one day. Would you like another dance?"

"I was up early today, so I'm just going to linger with my one drink tonight. I'm sure a lovely, intelligent woman like you will find a wonderful husband." I reached for my scotch. The ice had melted, watering down the cheap, blended whiskey. "You see? Your hot body already melted the ice." Tina's lips curled upward at my joke.

She touched my cheek while continuing to massage my crotch. "I won't find a wonderful husband while working in a strip club." She stood up, making sure to rub her chest across my face as she did so. "I have to make some more money. Give me the two hundred dollars now to reserve Guy's office."

I gave her the money, finished my drink and headed home. For the first time in months I was feeling optimistic about making love with my beautiful wife.

September 24

I had completed my work on Edgerton. Guy's was the most dubious of their holdings, and that was only because of the nature of the business, not the way they ran it. Edgerton was solid, well managed and had an excellent credit rating. Their loan guarantee would ensure Circle One a good interest rate for construction financing. My task now was revising the pro-forma, using very conservative scenarios for costs and potential revenue. Every number I entered made it look more like a go, more like my wife and I would have a comfortable retirement.

Another miserable patient had been released from the hospital. Barbara's crew was going out to celebrate afterwards; she told me not to wait up. I was going out too, but I wanted my hard-on to be a surprise, so I didn't tell her. I showered and shaved, even put on a touch of cologne. I stopped at an ATM on the way. I really wanted to pay Tina a thousand dollars.

Alicia was expecting me. She gave me a warm smile and took my hand. "I don't know or care what you and Tina have planned. The room is rented to you for your private business for the next two hours." Her statement sounded like a legal disclaimer.

She led me down a corridor to the side, to a door marked 'private.' "Enjoy yourself, Ethan." I opened the door to a dimly lit room. I blinked a few times, trying to get used to the low light. I didn't spot Tina. Looking around I saw a few statues on tables, a painting on one wall, a collection of framed photographs on the other. There were a couple of scented candles on the desk. The swivel chair behind the desk had its back to me. I walked over to it. Tina stood up and smiled.

If I thought Tina had looked alluring when I first met her, the only description I could use now would be spectacular, and that wasn't sufficient to capture her beauty. And her beauty was far surpassed by her skills.

I lost track of time, submerged in ecstasy as Tina applied herself to the challenge. I was vaguely aware of her sitting on my chest as I lay on my back.

"Feel me, below" she instructed. I felt. Her vagina was wet, very wet. She slid down my body, rubbing her slit with the head of my penis. "You're ready. I want you in me" she whispered.

It was only her extraordinary wetness that would make it possible for me to penetrate her. A cooked noodle could have probably made it in. But I was harder than that; not rigid, but my cock had shape. I was astonished. I had an erection, so to speak.

"I want you," she said again.

I took a deep breath, struggling to form the necessary words. "My wife."

Tina squealed and threw herself over me, squeezing me with strength I didn't expect. I felt my penis pressing against her belly. I felt her lips pressing against mine, her tongue dancing with mine.

She sat up, still astride my groin. "You've just taught me what love really means. The depth of what you share with your wife is astonishing. I will love you forever for showing me something so sublime. I have to taste you." She slid down to my ankles, bent forward, and took me in her mouth, licking, teasing, kissing my dick. I was even harder when she pulled away.

"Tina, you're wonderful. I'd pay you the two thousand dollars I offered, but I only have a thousand in cash. Give me your full name, your real name, and I'll write you a check for the balance."

" I really am Tina, Tina Patel. But a deal is a deal. We agreed on a price, and I'm sticking to it."

"It was worth way more to me, Tina. I want to do something for you. Please?"

"What did you have in mind?" She went to the sink, wet a cloth, and began to softly clean me off from her juices, from my sweat.

"I don't know, I'll think of something. Give me your address and phone number."

"Not allowed. Sorry."

"Where's my jacket? I'll give you my business card and then you can get in touch with me."

"You can come here to speak to me."

"You've made me really happy here tonight, but this isn't the kind of place I like to frequent. Please don't be upset."

"I'm not. It's okay."

"Can you make the room any brighter?"

Tina gave herself a quick wipe with the towel and turned up the dimmer. I looked around the room again, at the bad art, the tawdry décor. I looked again at the framed photographs covering one wall. "Who are they," I asked. All of them were beautiful smiling women, half naked or fully naked, with Guy's arm around them and his fat fingers on their breasts. All the photos had little numbers written in pen at the bottom right-hand corner.

"Guy's wall of fame. His dancers, his conquests."

One picture caught my eye. The woman wasn't in the regular pose. She was topless, her chest pressed against a fully-dressed Guy, his hands inside the back of her pants, squeezing her ass. Her arm was up in front of her breast, as if she was trying to protect her modesty. She was wearing scrubs, at least on the bottom part of her body. "What do the numbers mean," I asked Tina without moving my eyes from the picture.

"There's a file for each girl: more pictures, contact information." She saw the tears streaming down my cheek. She pointed. "You know her."

I nodded.

"Your wife..."

I nodded again.

"It must be from before you married her."

"I bought her those scrubs. See the little Winnie-the-Pooh pattern? They had just come on the market."

"Do you want to see her file?"

"Please." I sat down cross legged on the carpet; I didn't think my legs could stay erect.

Tina looked at the number in the corner. Forty-three. She went to an old oak file cabinet, opened the top drawer, and pulled out a folder. She picked up the towel, wiped my tears, and began to read. "Barbie Abbot, married to Ethan Abbot. My nurse at hospital. Guest performer at club, wouldn't put out for clients. Hot cockteaser. Brinwood Drive, apartment x, telephone xxx-xxx-xxxx."

"Our old address and phone number. She told me he offered her a job. She told me she threatened to have him kicked out of the hospital."

Tina showed me the photo in the folder. It was the same pose as the one on the wall, but with both of them completely naked. Guy's huge, sagging belly was the most prominent thing in the picture, but all I could focus on was Barbara's smile, the smile I had loved, the smile I loathed.

Tina threw the folder down on the coffee table and helped me to my feet. We stood naked together, in Guy and "Barbie's" pose. "I still want you in me," she said.

I touched my now shriveled penis. A few drops of liquid emerged and fell onto the carpet. "It will be much more difficult to recover from that," I pointed to the folder, "than it was to recover from surgery. I have no reason to..." I sat, more like fell onto the couch.

There was a knock on the door. "Two hours," a woman called.

"We're good, Alicia" Tina yelled back. "I need another thirty minutes." She sat down beside me and propped my head onto her shoulder. We sat silently for a few minutes, her hand on my thigh. I opened the folder on the table in front of me and gazed absently at the picture.

"Anything you need Ethan, anytime, call me. You didn't deserve this."

I eked out a smile from behind my fog. "You're not allowed to give me your phone number."

Tina went to the desk, found paper and pen, and wrote down her address, phone and email. I put it in my jacket pocket. "I should go now. I've used the two hours I paid for." I pulled the envelope with the cash out of my pocket and offered it to her. "Don't even think of refusing this." We both started to dress.

"What are you going to do, Ethan? Don't kill her. She deserves it, but I couldn't bear the thought of you being in jail."

"I don't know what I'm going to do. Not kill her. I have to figure out how to live the rest of my life without her. She was the motor that drove me forward, that I lived for. Turns out my life was for nothing."

"No, it wasn't for nothing. You will continue to live for you, not for someone else. You need to remain focused. This will help." Tina took the eight by ten picture of Barbara and Guy's naked embrace, folded it loosely in half, and stuck it in my inside jacket pocket. "I have some things I have to take care of in the morning. Will you be okay? I can spend the rest of the day with you. I'll take off work."

"Tina, I've just had the biggest catastrophe of my life. It dwarfs the cancer. But you and I have only known each other for a few hours. You don't have to take care of me."

"You're only facing this catastrophe because you met me, because I liked the challenge of giving you a hard-on. At first it was a game to me. Then you showed me the true potential of love, when you refused to come into me. That your wife betrayed you doesn't change the profoundness of what you did."

"The catastrophe happened decades ago. I owe it to you that I finally found out."

"Wait here for me Ethan. I'll be back in five minutes." She went out, closing the door behind her. I stared at photo forty-three until she came back, wearing normal street clothes. She looked like a cute folksy co-ed, rather than a high-priced stripper.

"Can you leave early? It's only eleven-thirty."

"All the girls here are independent contractors. I set my own hours. I already earned a thousand dollars this evening while doing something I really enjoyed. That's enough for tonight."

The fog in my head was already dissipating when the words "independent contractor" kicked my analytical mind into gear. It was a smart business strategy. I really wanted to be affiliated with Edgerton. I really wanted Circle One to move forward. Could I move my life forward, get away from Guy and Barbie's nakedness?

I flinched as I asked myself: were there other Guys? It didn't matter though. Once a vessel is cracked, you can't rely on it to hold water. Doesn't matter if it's one crack or the whole thing is shattered.

Tina took my hand, interrupting my ruminations. "Let's go. Are you okay to drive yourself home?"

"I'm good. When I drive, I concentrate on driving. I'll walk you to your car."

"I usually get a lift from one of the other girls."

"Don't drive?"

"I have a license, but it's too much of a strain to put out the money for a decent car. It would be handy, but I'd rather keep my money."

"That makes sense. There's also the cost of insurance, and the hassle of parking."

"My problem at the moment is that none of the other girls are leaving now."

"I'll take you." I pulled the paper with her address out of my pocket. Her apartment was near Barbara's hospital. "Buckle up carefully. I like to push this baby to its limits." She looked at me, puzzled, as I opened the door to my Subaru. "I'm kidding. The car's like me: safe and sedate."

We had been driving silently for about ten minutes when I suddenly pulled up to the curb. I showed Barbie's picture to Tina and pointed to Francesco's restaurant, across the street. "Can you please go see if she's in there?"

She came out of the restaurant a few minutes later, a grin plastered across her face.

"What did you do?"

" I told Barbie that Guy sends his love. I told the guy she was with that she's a hot cockteaser. Her eyes got very wide. The two girls with them tried to interfere, but I walked out before they could think of anything to say."

I put the car in gear. "I loved her so much, for so long." Tina squeezed my hand. She invited me to spend the night at her place, offering the couch if I preferred. I declined, explaining that I had a lot to do the next morning.

September 25

I don't know what time Barbara got home last night. I fell asleep quickly in my office; I guess the horror of what I had learned drained me.

I called my attorney as soon as I up, and he gave me the contact information for Joan Worthing, the divorce specialist at his firm. I emailed her a short summary of the problem, along with a scan of the naked photograph of Barbie and Guy. Explaining that my health was fragile, I told my new lawyer that I wanted to be legally parted from Barbara as quickly as possible. She said she'd get right to work on the documents, but it would still take a minimum of six months for a divorce to be final.

I went into the living room and found our wedding picture, almost out of sight on a high shelf. I tore it out of the frame, and carefully installed its replacement. It might take a while, but Barbie would eventually see it.

I called my life insurance agent and changed the beneficiary on my policies to the kids. I went online to pull out half of our joint savings. I dipped into the line of credit on the house, transferring two hundred thousand dollars into my own account. I was just finishing when I realized I had time to stop at the Ford dealership before seeing the doctor.

They didn't have a Mustang Shelby in stock, so I settled for the five-liter V-8 GT. It was setting me back forty-six thousand dollars, but I dropped the price down a couple when I told the dealer I was paying cash up front and needed to pick it up the next morning. I had wanted a red car, but one look at the 'Orange Fury' stole my heart. I signed all the papers and put the deposit on my credit card. An idea hit me, and I asked the manager if they could handle transferring the Subaru to someone else's name. He offered to take it as a trade-in, but I told him "No, I want to give it as a gift to a friend."

it was time to head to the hospital to get the PSA results from Doctor Capra. His reputation and experience with robotic surgery made me choose a different hospital than the one Barbara worked at. I was especially glad now that I did. I groaned when I got to the urology desk. The waiting room was packed. I once had to wait two hours before seeing the doctor; he had been called away to perform an emergency surgery. I handed the receptionist my hospital card.

"Ah, Mr. Abbot. You're next. It won't be long."

There were maybe two or three urologists seeing patients from this waiting room. Were all these people for the other doctors?

"Mr. Abbot, come with me please."

As soon as I stepped into Dr. Capra's office I realized I would soon be dead. He was always cheerful, optimistic, even when he first confirmed that I had cancer. His expression now was grim, his palor grey.

"I want you to go down to Nuclear medicine for a series of scans. Dr. Oldman is expecting you. We want to know more precisely what we're dealing with. Tomorrow I'm meeting with Dr. Oldman, two oncologists and the head of the palliative care department. We'll review your file and come up with recommendations. Come back tomorrow at eleven, and we'll get started on whatever it is we're going to do."

Palliative care didn't sound good. None of it sounded good. "What do you know so far?"

"Your PSA is twelve. That's a very rapid rise, indicating something aggressive. Recurrences happen, but it's rarely this fast. Don't panic. Once we know more, we'll work out a treatment protocol to deal with whatever it is."

It was close to six in the afternoon when I sat down with Dr. Oldman to review the results.

"It's spread. You have cancer in your lungs, bladder and bones. It's too far along for us to stop, but I think we can slow it down. It will take a combination of chemo, radiation and maybe immunotherapy. Chemical castration would probably also be beneficial."

"I don't feel sick, but I'm dying of cancer. Is that what you're telling me?"

"You're going to feel it soon. You're stage four. I'm not an oncologist, but I would say that untreated, you have somewhere between three to nine months before you're unable to function. With intensive treatment, maybe a year or two. Every individual is different, and every cancer is different. You may have less time, you may survive a lot longer. You told me your wife is a nurse. With her loving care you should be able to remain at home a lot longer than would otherwise be the case."

I put my arms, and then my head down on the doctor's desk. I no longer had the problem of how to live the rest of my life without Barbara. There would be no more 'rest of my life.'

The doctor stood behind me and gently rubbed my back. "I'm sorry, Ethan. Is there anyone you want me to call?"

I shook my head, stood, left the hospital, and turned my phone back on. There were two messages, from Smithson and Tina. I called Smithson and told him I would send him something later that evening. I added that I thought very highly of Edgerton, details to follow.

I drove slowly home. Radiation. Chemo. Castration. Let's say the treatments could stretch out my life for a couple of years. Who would I be? Certainly not the person I was before I got cancer. Not even the person I am now. I thought back to Tina. The two hours I spent with her were the best since my initial diagnosis. My erection was glorious. Not particularly hard, but glorious nonetheless. I had thought making love with Barbara using my pumped-up prick was the best, but it turned out to have been a fraud. She knew I was seeing the doctor today but hadn't called. Was she even curious? I didn't remember if I had told the kids. They certainly weren't tracking my health issues on their own.

I went into my office and called Tina. It went straight to voicemail. "Tina, it's Ethan. There's something I need you to pick up at the Oval Ford dealership on Broadview Avenue. It's very important. Please call the sales manager, Samuel Starr, tomorrow afternoon. I'm going to be out of touch for a while, but he will bring you up to speed."

It was suppertime, but I didn't have much of an appetite. There was a note on the kitchen table from Barbara. "I hardly get to see you anymore. I'm coming straight home after my shift. Please wait up for me." It was signed "Your loving wife." Ha. I tore it neatly in half, left it on the table, and made myself a peanut butter and jam sandwich. I ate most of it. I wanted one more orgasm, I decided. A complete one.

I went to my computer and attacked the Circle One development project like a man possessed. Timelines, zoning, risk management, financing, revenues, ownership structure, management structure... I left myself out of the last one. I hit 'send' to get it off to Smithson just as I heard the garage door opening. I quickly shut the light, slipped out of my clothes, and climbed into bed. Barbara opened my door a crack and softly said my name, but I didn't respond. She closed it, and I fell into a dreamless sleep.

September 26

I was out of the house by eight, a knapsack with a change of clothes on my back. I didn't bother bringing my blood pressure medications or a toothbrush. I went to IHOP for breakfast, not wanting to risk the smell of coffee waking Barbara. I ate maybe half of what I had ordered. By nine-fifteen I was sitting with Samuel Starr, filling out the paperwork and paying the fees to transfer ownership of the Subaru to Tina Patel. She would be calling later in the day, not knowing in advance about the gift. Starr assured me he would take care of everything.