Fall Flash Fiction Challenge

Patti Abbott posted a Flash Fiction Challenge. I took the challenge. (Don't read this is you don't like naughty bits. ;-)

Weaker Sex
A Bo Fexler Story

His gaze fixed on my tits. Inside, where air conditioning dropped the temperatures to sub-arctic, I was cold. The thin little bra that's more than enough for my perky pair surely showed the physiological reaction to the cold. Often mistaken for arousal. I'm not the sort of girl to mess with a man's sexual misconceptions.

"You must be Ian," I cooed. When he managed to get his head to nod, I slid into the seat opposite him. "Bonnie," I told him. Given that he was a lawyer in the same office with one of my previous clients, it was too risky to use my real name. Women named Bo are as common as chaste prostitutes.

"How'd you know who I was?"

"Friend of yours sent me your way." I leaned forward so he could get a good view of the valley.

"Oh?" he asked my boobs.

"Yeah. Said you were good for… some fun." I gave him my naughtiest grin. He ginned, but only for a moment. "I don't know what you're talking about…"

"Aren't you friends with Andy Willmore?" I asked. My client's brother.

"Yeah… why? He said something?"

"Said that you were a hit with the ladies."

"The only lady I've been with is my wife." He showed me the gold band.

"I don't mind fucking married men." I almost said 'fucking with.'

His eyebrows nearly disappeared into his hair. No receding hairline-- at twice my age he was still pretty good looking. "I think-- you've got me confused-- or something."

"Still loyal to the wife? That's not what I hear. Look, I’m not a prostitute. I just prefer uncomplicated sex." Part of the reason I like to do it myself.

"I-- I love my wife."

I sat up and took an envelope from the back pocket of my jeans. I laid the envelope on the table. When I spoke, the seduction in my voice was replaced with business. "Are you honestly saying that you wouldn't cheat on your wife-- even if I paid you."

"Paid-- me? No-- I'm married."

He started to get up, but I grabbed his wrist. He looked at it, face squinched up in confusion. "Sit."

He sat. "What-- who the hell are you?"

"Bo Fexler, private--"

"Private eye. Lenny mentioned you. Said you were a pretty respectable PI. For someone who makes a living breaking up marriages."

I chuckled. "This from the lawyer."

He shrugged.

I nodded. "Would you be interested in photos of your wife… cheating on you?" I laid two photos on the table. Photos with enough nekkid to get his interest. Then I put my hand over top of them.

Several emotions passed over his face, but he returned to confusion. "Why?"

"I was hired to find evidence of infidelity in your marriage."

"By… my wife?"

"No. Kim Willmore. Andy's sister. She's rather protective and when he set his sights on your wife, she wanted to help out. And your prenup says that any spouse caught cheating gets, well, everything. Kim was willing to pay me five thousand dollars to… make sure you were caught cheating." I took half of the 5k up front.

"Kim? She's a good, respectable woman." He shook his head. That was the buzz word in his law firm-- "respectable."

"Or so you thought. You pay me five thousand, and the photos are yours."

"Why?"

"Because… it's the right thing to do."

"Can I write you a check."

I laughed. "Hell no! I'm not stupid."

"No… no I wouldn't say that." He frowned. "I'll get the money."

We met the next afternoon to make the trade. I brought a friend as back up, even pointed him out to Ian. Ian nodded but clearly thought nothing of my orange-haired friend.

I counted the money and pressed my body against his to whisper in his ear.

"Some advice: Call no woman respectable unless she's dead."

And my friend took a picture.

Went well with the set of shots my friend had taken the day before at the bar. Ian meeting with, and getting real close to, another woman.