I was staying at my dad's house while he was out of town on business. It was the usual routine of feeding the dogs, watering the plants and bringing in the mail. In exchange, I get to enjoy climate control, cable television and fine food. He also leaves me a bit of extra spending money for my trouble. Also, there are a few other perks as well though I don't think I am supposed to take advantage of them.

My dad has done quite well for himself. He even tried to instill in me the same values of hard work, frugality, education and delayed gratification to no avail. He did without for most of the first half of his life but now he has a 2007 BMW z4, lots of nice suits and
jewelry. He is about the same size as me. But even with hundreds of channels, there was really nothing worth watching. I was bored, so I just started trying on his clothes in front of his full length mirror. I am a jeans and T shirt kind of guy and I only own one suit which I last wore to a wedding ten years ago. I can't say I even remembered what
I looked like.

The transformation was immediete and profound. This is what I would look like if I was successful. This is what I would look like if I were rich. This is what I would like if I took even the least bit of pride in my appearance. I felt a sudden burst of confidence and energy. The ultra depressed creep who usually posts here suddenly ceased to exist, replaced by the upwardly mobile professional.

There was just one problem. It didn't mean much playing dress up all alone in front of the mirror. I mean, I always find other ways to do things to convince myself I am great but the feeling always fades. I had to strike while the iron was hot, I had to present myself to the world.

I decided to go around the corner to this lounge where my friend Steve just got a job as
bartender. I promised I would pop in for a drink one of these days but it's just not my kind of place. Anything more $2 for a 40 Ouncer is a rip off, and it's not the kind of place I feel comfortable in.

I put on a bit cologne, then slid on a rolex for good measure, grabbed the
$80 my dad left for me, took the keys to my dad's BMW and headed out the door.

The place was medium size, with some booths at one end and a bar on the other. The clientele was obviously upscale. My friend Steve was behind the bar. I ordered a scotch on the rocks.

"What brings you here to this end of town?"

"I am staying at my dad's around the corner?"

"Oh, you walk over?"

"No, I drove his new BMW, go out there and check it out"

He went out to go have a look at it as these three women came into the bar, stood next to

me and waited for him to return. They all started checking me out. I introduced myself and

we started making small talk. I was most enamored of Layla who was standing in the middle.

Steve returned and said "The new 2007 model is really a nice car."

I replied "The insurance and registration cost even more than it did on the 2006 but it's

worth it for the newest in fine German engineering." Steve paused a second, realized what was up, then said "Yeah I bet it is" as he took the ladies' drink order. Layla subtly traded places with the other two and invited me back to a booth with them.


We chatted a bit, mostly about nothing. It didn't take for them to find out I was single

and that Layla works as a receptionist in a doctor's office but is looking for something

else. Layla looked real interested though, and there was already a lot of light touching, on my hand and shoulder and leaning into my personal space. It had been a long time since I had seen these nonverbal cues acted toward me.

She said she is looking forward to baseball season and asked me what sports I like. I said other than the ski trips to my cabin in Sun Valley, I am too busy to follow sports. I told her I have a luxury box at the local arena but only use it for concerts, letting my friends or employees have it for basketball games.

It was nice to have some company but I was also a little nervous. I am sure it was going to

be quite innocous, just joining three ladies for a drink, but I felt the pressure to

continue the ruse and add on to it. I also feared the public humiliation that was sure to come if I was exposed. My tension was noticeable to the others too.

Layla said, "You look stressed, bad day at work?"

"A little, there is some turmoil right now. My company is merging with another

one," I said, spitting out some names I read in my dad's Wall Street Journal that morning, "When the dust clears I have no idea if I will still be a vice president, or maybe it's about time I just start my own company."

Two of the other women were openly sneering at my bragging about life at the top. It's
obvious my suit and schtick was doing little to hide the real person underneath, attempting to overcompensate for numerous insecurities. But I was on a roll and just couldn't help myself.

I kept laying it on, "On top of that I had to fire my assistant, and I have a business trip to Europe next week with no one to take her place."

The two other women get up, and say "I think we should call it a night."

"I have experience," Layla offered.

"Do you have a resume? References?"

"Yes I can send it to you"

"Layla, we are leaving"

"Go ahead, I think I am going to stay here a bit."

They turned around and stalked out. "Nice meeting
you," I cheerfully called out after them.

We moved a lot closer once they were gone and the talk grew more personal. I said in addition to what's going at work I am going through a divorce. I have to stay at a hotel while my lawyer tries to secure my house.

"It's complicated because my wife is also a lawyer." Then I paused for effect and said "That's the last time I ever get involved with a professional."

Soon enough we are making out right there at the table. She suggests we go someplace with

a bit more privacy. I suggest the hotel room. We hurry out and I see a thumbs up from Steve

out of the corner of my eye, returned with a fast wink.

We get in the car, I start it up, and then I tell her the temp accidentally gave my former assistant my room number at the Four Seasons and she won't stop calling. I think she may even be on her way over there.

"She is real nuts I tell you, that's that the last time I let personnel just send someone over"

Layla looked slightly apprehensive about the possibility of being confronted with a

possible psycho bitch but I said "Hey, how about this place," and pulled
into the parking lot of the local Patel Motel. It was a bit run down but the rooms were only $42 on weeknights.

As we walk in, I can't honestly think of anything else to say or come up with any other
deceptions, so I just start kissing her the second I close the door. We ended up having sex in many variations until dawn. What a magnificent evening it was.

When I wake up, it's 8:37am, and I have to pick up my dad in a few hours. In my beat up Toyota, of course. I tell Layla I have to be at a meeting in an hour but will call her a cab. I give her what was left of the money my dad gave me and apologize for not driving her home myself. I give her my cell phone number neglecting to tell her it's been turned off because I can't pay the bill and tell her I will contact her about the job as soon as I get to the office.

Then I reluctantly check out and drive back to my dad's house, strip away the facade of near wealth and hang the lies back up in his closet and once again put on the uniform of the loser, the scumbag, the poor.

I thought that was the last I would ever hear of Layla. Instead I would be left with a memory of a beautiful fluke and also the thought of might have been if I had a chosen to follow a different path. At least I was thankful for the opportunity to spend just one night on the other side of life.

A few nights later, Steve the bartender calls me. "Hey man, I just wanted to warn you, that chick you left here with the other night, well she was just here and she isn't too happy."

"Uh oh, what happened?"

"She asked if I have seen you lately. She really needed to get ahold of you. I say you don't come in here often, it's actually far out of your range. She seemed to think it meant you hang out at even classier joints. But I told her you don't go out much. She said something about a job offer as your assistant." Steve started to chuckle before continuing, "I said 'since when do movie theatre ushers have assistants?' At first she seemed to think I was talking about someone else but then I told her, 'look I know this guy,' and when I told her how I always see you out collecting cans was when she started screaming that you raped her and you can't get away with being a lying scumbag, and that she is calling the cops and you are going to pay for this. Just wanted to warn you, you picked a live one, better watch yourself buddy."

I thanked him for calling me. Right now I am really worried. I just thought we were having fun, it sure didn't feel like rape. I didn't use force or blackmail. I didn't make any promises. I didn't even mention a salary for chrissakes. Whatever I said was all in good fun, mainly to amuse myself. I didn't mean anything by it. I don't want to go jail, I can't really afford a lawyer so I don't know where to turn to for advice.

So, is it rape if a woman believes she is getting something in return? Is it rape if a woman is tricked into having sex with someone she percieves as below her own social standing? Can anyone please tell me exactly what is going on here so I don't make the same mistake again?

That is a really good story. Maybe you wouldn't be poor if you tried to become a writer or something...

You didn't break any laws though, and as long as you didn't break any promises it wasn't rape. If she does manage to take you to court, just tell the judge/jury what you posted.

she's a gold digger and now she's calling rape bacause she thought she fucked someone that had money but really dont. +1 for tricking a gold digger

Submit it as Erotica. I really enjoyed your portrayal of emotions, how it felt to wear the rolex, drive the beamer, etc.

Also, as a future lawyer, I will tell you that in USA/UK/Canada, you didn't break any laws. You know how many men say they'll get women jobs in Hollywood for a blowjob? If you do go to court, the judge will rule it out, and probably tell you to be more of a gentleman next time.

But thumbs up for the James Bond.

Whenever I see the name "JIzzlobber" next to a thread, I know I'm in for a treat. As soon as I can give rep again, you're gettin' it.

QFT!

I'm drunk as shit and it was the first thing it came to ym mind when I was reading your story.

Wow, really good read. Hope it doesn't turn out bad.

That was a cool story. Like in the movies n' such.

I have one more question for you, Jizzlobber. What is your hairstyle like. Just out of curiosity, please post a picture of somebody with similar hair. Best not to ask why.

I don't really know how to answer that. I don't have a ready arsenel of pictures to use in lieu of posting actual words the way people on some groups do.