"Er, no, I just wanted to wear something other than a dress. I have feltbetter, so I couldn't be bothered dressing up too much," I explained."Ah, yes. Did you have a nice time last night?" She asked."Uhm, well, yes, I suppose," I said. "Is Michael up yet?" I said tryingto change the subject."No, I haven't seen him yet," she said.I brewed myself a caff? latte, grabbed a cornetto and installed myselfon the couch. The TV was on, and I watched the reprise of yesterday'sTour de France stage. I hated. “Anyhow, the view on the street’s nothalf bad,” I thought to myself and headed out.After wandering the streets to get my bearings, Idecided that, to take in the sights, I should eatsupper that evening at a roadside cafe. That was astroke of outstanding luck because, right when I wasready for dessert, an evening school let out just upthe street. Crowds of girls, I’d say 16 to 18 years oldpassed by for the next twenty minutes-slim, bare waistsand features like Greek. Then they are in. Sue almost orgasm right there, but barely retain her composure. First a finger than two. It's a good thing I am holding her as she shake with excitement, otherwise she might fall off the stool. I look at the barmaid who raises an eyebrow, an "I know what your doing" look with a smile. I give a slight agreeing nod. He rubs his thumb ever so gently over Sue's clit. Thats it. Right there. A barmaid watching out of the corner of her eye, a strangers hand in you, and your husband. Twenty percent. That's all." Twenty percent of what?" Twenty percent of what I expect you to bring in each night." And how much is that?"The man spread his fingers. "That's in hundreds in case you didn't know."Beatrice nodded. This wasn't an arrangement she wanted to be party to. It wasn't that she couldn't afford it. What troubled her was the consequence of entering into any agreement of this kind with a human. There really was only one solution."You could have demanded so much more," she said.
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