Pretty boys, with no tans. Hands that had no calluses. A blur of weaklings that smoked pot, sniffed coke, and are working ants. ‘I’m in for a look.’ The next several days offered many insights to Mr. Jim Simpson: fishing in the rain, boating in whitecaps, climbing mountains, spending a quiet day reading. Then, ‘be gone for three days,’ he announced. ‘Where to? Can I go along?’ ‘Washington. You can’t go along on these trips until you propose to me. You would be considered a security risk now,’ he answered with a big smile. That night, Amelia lay in ‘Her’ bedroom, smiling to herself. He had been as good as his word. He kissed her anytime she was near. He put his arm across hers or around her waist. But, he had not come on to her, tried to feel her tits, or ass. It was just what she had needed. She had phoned her mother to tell her that she was leaving her job at the UN, and would be staying in Vermont, until further notice. Her mother had phoned back, asking questions about this Mr.. “Well, I am sure we will have many happy more,” replied Marcus. Tom stopped and looked at Marcus. Had he said “we?” Marcus stood smiling at Tom and with a glint in his eye, stated “Shall we?” and waved Mandy forward in an exaggerated, chivalrous manner. Tom again felt the burning mix of anger and angst as already Marcus seemed to be completely in charge and at home, in his, their, home. He told himself not to be surprised at that. After all, he had invited him here for one reason, and one reason alone; to let him fuck his beautiful wife. Mandy unlocked the door and all three entered the hallway. “How about you fix us some drinks Tom? I would love a Merlot please. See what Marcus wants whilst I pop to the bathroom.” “Yes ma’am,” Tom thought to himself. Even Mandy was now treating him like some little waiter, almost as if she and Marcus were the couple and he was the outsider. Was this how it was going to feel all along? Chapter 2 Tom was organising drinks in the kitchen when he heard.
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