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  Maybe even 30."   She said 30 like it was ancient.   Which, for us, it was.

     
    "Any wedding rings?"

     
    She tried discreetly to squint and instead came off looking like she had discreetly farted.

     
    "Stop that-" I snapped.   "We can look up close."   What the hell, I had put on this dress for a reason, right?   I turned in my chair, flashed my best smile, and gestured for the guys to come over.   Time to have some fun.

     
    ----

     
    Two hours later.

     
    I am a Cock Tease.   I know it, own it, and am not the least bit ashamed of it.   I love the chase, and the tease, but don't need or want the sex or the reputation that comes with it.

     
    I had Bob, a 29-year-old Tax Accountant with a bird chest and moderately muscular arms, flat on his back, gazing at me in drunken adoration.   I straddled him, stripped down to my black lace bra and thong.   My hair fell loose down my back and I leaned forward, nibbling and kissing his neck.   He moaned, and I could feel his erection pushing at his dress pants, begging to get out.   His hands roamed down my back, over the curve of my hips and grabbed my ass.   Continuing to tease his neck, I reached down and slid my hand underneath his pant line and felt the hardness of his cock.   It was pretty nice sized, compared to the few that I had previously touched, and I grabbed it firmly, jacked him up and down twice, and let him think for a minute that I was going to do more.   Then I slyly bit my bottom lip, shook my head at him, and pulled my hand out.  

     
    The fire in his eyes died a little and he looked at me with intense yearning.   Right there, that is what I want to see.   My confidence soared and I felt full satisfaction.   You're done buddy.  

     

 
    CHAPTER 10

     

     
    8:15am.   Brad De Luca's cell rang for the seventh time that morning.

     
    "De Luca." he snapped into the phone, watching the 20-year-old "housekeeper" that he had hired bend over to dust the coffee table.   She was dressed in cutoff jean shorts and a soft tee shirt that barely covered her midriff.   She did a horrendous job on the house, but kept the clothes to a minimum and bent over a lot.   He had a middle-age Russian Linebacker named Helga who came over afterwards and redid all of her work.

     
    "Julia Campbell."   His cousin Tony's voice rang through the phone.   Tony was a 40-year old divorcee with 3 kids who drank full time and painted houses as a hobby.   He couldn't remember the last time he had spoken to Tony before 11am. He must need money.   He groaned silently and waited for more.  

     
    "You know her?" Tony asked.

     
    His mind searched his recent clients, conquests, and acquaintances and came up blank.

     
    "No, don't believe I do."

     
    "She's an intern, at your office."   Tony's voice slurred a bit.  

     
    "Oh.   She's probably with Broward or Clarke.   They keep the female interns away from me."

     
    Tony laughed so hard he began to hiccup.   "I bet they do man!   You'd be slaying them!"

     
    Brad glanced at his watch impatiently and willed the man to get to the point.

     
    "Who's she to you Tony?   We related?"   His voice had taken on the rough brogue of his Italian childhood.  

     
    "Naw man - I got a call this morning from Robert Hanstle - the yuppie guy whose kitchen I'm painting?   He's trying to get information about her - he knows she works for your firm, and…given my last name… thought I might know someone over there."

     
    "I don't know anything about her."   He tried to convey a tone of wrapping up the conversation, but Tony wouldn't let it go.

     
    "Come on Brad - give me SOMETHING - this guy is desperate over this chick.   She must have magic pussy, man."

     
    "Sorry Tony.   Never met her before.   If I learn something, I'll let you know."  

     
    "Seriously Brad - give me a call - this guy-"

     
    He hung up the phone without waiting for the rest of Tony's sentence.   He looked at his watch again.   He