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My buddy merely shrugs, taking a swig of his beer.
“I help them transition out,” he explains. “I know I’m an asshole, but I just can’t handle older women. They get shrewish and sometimes, I see wrinkles and shit. It’s bad. Even their pussies get wrinkled.”
I let out a bark of laughter.
“Are you for real?”
He shrugs.
“Yeah. And they get dry downtheretoo. Trust me, it’s no fun to use a gallon of lube. Why not just keep them young? It’s easier that way.”
I shake my head.
“I think I’d disagree, but hey, it’s your harem. I’m not going to tell you how to run it.”
Jake shrugs.
“Yeah. Don’t get me wrong, I don’t want my women to end up on the street after living with me. I prefer them to go on to be happy and successful somewhere else, so like I said, I help them transition with cash gifts, introductions, and all the goodies. They’re not hurting.”
“Right,” I grin, “because you’re such a good guy.”
Jake is unfazed.
“This way everyone wins,” he shrugs.
But I’ve had a question on my mind for a while now, and maybe this is the time to ask.
“So tell me: how do you even meet all these young girls?” I ask in a neutral tone. After all, I may be going out with a teenage minx, but I certainly never would have sought it out. It’s more like a situation that I now feel powerless to leave. I can’t resist the temptation of being with Jasmine, and I’m too weak to wait three more years until she’s twenty-one. I’ve considered suggesting it, but the thought of being without her makes it impossible for me to pursue. Clearly, I’m as much of an asshole as Jake.
“Well, you know I teach high school English, right?That’show,” he winks. “My female students are young, impressionable, and all-too-eager to earn an A.”
I stare at him, totally dumbfounded.
“You sick motherfucker,” I growl. “There’s a special place in hell for assholes like you.”
My buddy merely laughs. But I shake my head. Jake and I have known each other for a long time, but I see now that he’s not so much a symptom of this kind of lifestyle, as the cause. Once, I thought this was the best life any man could live. And for years, I savored it to the fullest. But speaking with Jake now makes me realize how much I’ve changed, and that I don’t want this anymore. And I don’t want Jasmine to be a part of it either because she deserves better. The curvy girl makes me want to be a better man, and this conversation has only cemented my resolve to do better. Tobebetter. To make her happy, and to ensure a blissful life for us both, going forwards.
Fortunately, the game ends shortly, and despite Jake’s entreaties for a drink at the bar, I make my excuses. After all, Jasmine’s waiting for me at home, and the thought of seeing her lightens my heart and fills me with anticipation. I know I can do better; and for the first time in my life, Iwantto.
8
Jasmine
Inervously check my reflection in the mirror above the fireplace in the living room, correcting some stray curls and tucking them this way and that so I look as presentable as possible. I’m wearing a pastel pink satin blouse, black slacks, and the gold jewelry Logan bought for me to mark our six-month anniversary. My feet are nestled comfortably in a pair of gold threaded moccasins with pastel pink details that compliment my blouse. The goal is to look comfortable but poised, fresh but mature, soft but confident. After all, Mom is visiting me in Logan’s private quarters. Or rather,ourprivate quarters, as he’s asked me to start referring to them.
After all, Logan wants me to think of this as my home now, and not just some temporary place I’m staying as a guest. Of course, I wholeheartedly agree, but I haven’t dared ask for any further explanation, since he didn’t offer it. Words like “proposal” and “wedding” have floated into my mind, but I shamefully snuff them out whenever that happens as I remind myself of how lucky I already am. To be treated so well by a man who is completely devoted to me to the point that he’s overhauling his entire way of life - is that not enough? When I come from nothing, and have nothing but myself to offer? The connection that Logan and I share is deep. It’s electric. But life happens, and this could all be over soon. So I want to enjoy every bit of it as much as I can. As much as I deserve, but not an ounce more.
Inviting Mom here is part of this new goal. I decided that I wanted to make more of an effort to spend time with Lily after I’ve seen so little of her these past months. She’s still living here in the mansion, along with all the other women, and as far as I know, she’s happy. We haven’t talked much because I’ve been so busy. I think the last time might have been at high school graduation, but that was a few months ago now.
But this is the perfect time and place to catch up. Logan’s out in the city today for business, so Mom and I will be able to enjoy a long, leisurely lunch and catch up on everything important and not-so-important. Still, there’s a churning in my gut. I’ve had an uncomfortable feeling that Mom has been a little resentful of my situation, so I’d like to use this lunch to put any bad feelings behind us. I figure that if we get everything out into the open, then surely, she can see how happy I am. Then how could Lily be resentful?
The particular thing I’d like to share with her is a project I’m working on for Logan’s birthday, which is coming up in a few weeks. A girl in one of my classes, Alice, is an aspiring photographer with whom I gelled with immediately. Alice has been working on a portfolio of erotic pictures to celebrate women’s bodies, and she was looking for women to act as models. At first, I was a total no. There was no way I was taking off my clothes for anyone but Logan. But then she explained her artistic vision, and slowly, I came around. Evidently, these photos can be seen as artwork, and not just smut. Plus, Alice is giving me duplicates of the photos, and I plan to arrange them in a specially printed book for Logan. He’s going to love it.
But I want Lily’s advice on which photos to use for the special album. Right now, they’re just stuffed in an envelope, and some of them are great, but some are not so good. I’d like to ask Mom to help me choose which ones to include in the album, and asking for her advice about this will hopefully help her feel involved in my life. She’ll know that her opinion matters to me.
I look at my phone to check the time – as usual, Lily’s late. She should have been here ten minutes ago. Resisting the urge to call or text to ask if she’s still coming, I focus on the envelope of photos instead. I empty the contents onto a glass coffee table and start to sort through them, beginning by discarding all the photos where I’m mid-blink or with a weird expression.
The photos are in black-and-white, and tastefully shot against a maroon velvet background, with a wooden stool as my only prop. I’m completely naked except for some heavy jet-colored bracelets Alice gave me, and a long, matching ebony necklace that hangs between my boobs, accentuating their enormous size. The dark jewelry sets off my milky skin stunningly, and I have to admit that it’s very erotic.
