by Mia Ford
“You know me and I’ve never been a snob, but after tasting this I can totally understand why people spend thousands of dollars for dinner at these restaurants,” Stacy says and I am in perfect agreement with her. The good life tastes really great and I know that I never want to be poor again… ever.
“Are you ready to order your entrées?” the friendly French waiter asks and I and shake my head, almost violently.
“No! We plan on staying here all night and it’s way too soon for us to have the main course,” I say and the waiter nods his head.
“What I’d really like to try is an oyster or two… If you don’t mind?” Stacy says and looks at me, almost feeding.
“Tonight, Stacy my dear, you can have all the oysters in this restaurant if that is your heart’s desire,” I say and the waiter inclines his head slightly before disappearing to go and fetch us each a couple of oysters.
“I almost feel like I’d like to try each and every single thing on the menu,” Stacy says with a grin and I totally agree with her. We end up trying to more starters; one which consists of fried mushrooms with pepper and cream and another one which is basically some kind of raw meat mixed with spicy herbs. It all tastes like heaven and I find myself wondering if I’ll ever have any room left for the main course after all of this. Stacy and I each have some more of the champagne and when I look at the bottle I realize that it’s nearly empty. I quickly order us another bottle of the same heavenly liquid and it’s not long before Stacy and I are slightly pissed.
“I propose a toast to the Virginia auction!” I say excitedly and Stacy laughs out loud.
“Don’t you mean the virgin auction?” she laughs.
“Yes… whatever, I propose a toast to it” I say and drain my glass.
“Now that your tongue is well oiled, dear girlfriend, I want you to tell me each and every juicy little detail of the unspeakable things you and those eleven bikers did to one another up in the bedroom at the mansion last night,” Stacy says and leans forward with great expectation.
I proceed to tell her everything we did and I leave out absolutely nothing. Stacy listens with bated breath and I can tell that she’s getting hot as I tell her how I sucked off all the bikers and allowed them to shoot their come all over my naked body. When I tell her how they each took turns fucking me while I was handcuffed to the bed railing, it looks as if she’s close to experiencing an orgasm of her own.
“Okay stop… you’re getting me so hot that I’m going to slide right off this chair if you carry on any further,” Stacy says after about half an hour and I sit back in my chair with great satisfaction.
“Great! My job here is done and I hope that I have now got you so horny that you won’t be able to concentrate for the rest of the evening.”
“I wouldn’t say that I was in much of a condition to keep my concentration before you started… but whatever, I now feel like I can focus even less accurationateley,” Stacy giggles and also drains her glass of champagne.
“What the hell does accurationateley mean?” I ask and also start giggling.
“It’s not my fault you didn’t pay attention in English class… go look it up!” Stacy says in her best headmaster’s voice and we both laugh so hard that everyone in the restaurant stops eating to look at us. By this time Stacy and I are giggling at absolutely everything and we don’t even care that we are causing a commotion. All of the champagne has made me hungry and I finally feel like I’m ready for the main course.
“I think I’ll be having the lobster,” I say when the waiter comes around again to ask us what we would like to order.
“And me!” Stacy says, drunkenly. The waiter soon returns with two delicious looking plates of food with massive lobsters on top of beds of rice and vegetables. It takes us a while to figure out exactly how to eat the lobsters, but once we manage to get the meat out of the shells we both smack our lips as we taste just how delicious it is.
“I can really get used to this lifestyle,” Stacy says for the umpteenth time and I just nod my head. When we’re done with the lobster I can tell that Stacy is just as full as I am and I don’t think I have place for one more bite. We get the bill and, unlike so many other times when I’ve paid with my credit card in the past, this time I have no fear that the payment won’t go through. I add a handsome tip for our friendly waiter and he offers to call us a cab. We gladly accept his offer and have two cups of delicious coffee just to sober us up a little bit before we go home.
It’s not long before the waiter walks over to tell us that our cab has arrived and we stumble out of the restaurant, still laughing and giggling. We sing all the way over to Stacy’s apartment and somehow make it up the stairs and get inside without causing ourselves serious injury after the cabdriver drops us off.
“Don’t tell me you’re going to sleep on my couch again!” Stacy says as I flop down on the couch in her apartment.
“Has anyone ever told you that you talk too much when you’re drunk?” I say and pull the blanket over me as I make myself comfortable. It’s not long before I fall asleep and Stacy snuggles up on the other end of the couch with me, just like she’d done earlier that morning. We sleep until late the next morning and when we finally get up I can tell that Stacy has just as bad a hangover as I do.
“Good grief… It feels as if someone is banging on my head with a hammer or something,” Stacy says and I know exactly what she means. I have a throbbing headache and we both stumble over to the kitchen to have some black coffee and aspirin. After while I start feeling slightly better and Stacy and I go and sit in the lounge, just to talk.
“What exactly are your plans now?” Stacy asks, “I guess you no longer have to go and grovel in front of fat old men for a job?”
“Nope, that part of my life is over… I’m definitely going to start something of my own and I’ve kind of been thinking that I’d like to open up my own magazine. Would you be interested in coming on board?”
“Interested?! I’d absolutely love it!” Stacy says and I suddenly feel very excited, despite the fact that my head still hurts. We talk about it some more and decide that there’s no point in allowing any grass to grow under our feet. We make plans to go and look for office space that very same day and it’s not long before we start thinking about various possible names for the magazine.
“What about Jenny’s travels?” Stacy suggests and I immediately like the name.
“But won’t you feel like you’ve been left behind if your name is not also in the title?” I ask, slightly apprehensively. I really value the contribution Stacy has made to all of this and I don’t want her to be left feeling as if she’s pulling on the short end.
“I can’t feel that I’m being left behind when the name was my idea?” Stacy asks with undefeatable logic and I nod my head.
“Okay, Jenny’s Travels it is!” I say and we clink our coffee cups in celebration of the birth of our magazine. We spend some more time sitting in the lounge, drinking coffee and recovering from the excess of the previous night. When we finally feel up to it, we get dressed, put on some makeup and then hit the streets to start looking for some office space. It doesn’t take as long before we find an office which looks really nice and we quickly call the number on the sign in the window which announces that the space is for rent.
“Yes, how can I help you?” A male voice asks at the other end of the line.
“My name is Jenny and I’d like to rent this office space on seventh Avenue,” I say, getting straight to the point.
“Okay… Have you got any collateral to put up as security?” the man asks, clearly apprehensive.
“Well, I don’t own any real estate or anything like that, but I do have money in the bank if that would set your mind at ease,” I say with a smile and Stacy sticks both her thumbs up in the air to indicate that she loves what I just said.
“Oh! I think that would be just fine!” the man quickly says and an hour later we are sitting in his office, signing the lease for the offic
e space.
“Isn’t it amazing just how easily these doors swing open now that we have some cash on our hands?” I say and Stacy heartily agrees with me. “You can say that again, I can still recall how my mother had to sign surety for me when I got my shitty little apartment… I definitely prefer this way of doing things!”
Over the next couple of days we get real busy and buy office furniture and everything else we need to get the magazine started. We spare no expenses and a hundred thousand dollars later we stand in front of Jenny’s Travels, watching the guy as he paints the name of the magazine on the window.
“This is just like a dream come true!” Stacy exclaims and we hug and dance around excitedly on the sidewalk. Then we go inside and get down to the business of preparing our first issue for publication. Stacy has a bit of background in publishing, as she used to work as an intern at another magazine. But she’s quit that job now and I have offered her double her previous salary to work with me, as well as giving her twenty percent shares in the business. At first, she objected to my generosity, but then I reminded her that none of this would have been possible without her input and her suggestion that I should take part in the virgin auction. We’ve decided to concentrate on Internet publishing, so I’ve also called in the help of an appetizer to get the word out about our new magazine. The bulk of our articles are going to be about local attractions in Los Angeles and we’ve already decided that we will be visiting some great restaurants in the area to write reviews and articles about their food.
“I guess we’ll have to behave ourselves slightly better when we visit these new restaurants than we behaved in that French restaurant right after the virgin auction,” Stacy says as we sit and discuss which restaurant to visit next.
“Yes, you probably have a point there!” I chuckle. I think about the tough times Stacy and I have been through and how we often went out to bars and restaurants in the past where we knew there would be free snacks, just to have something to eat. I realize that those days are now gone forever and that going to bed hungry would never be part of our lives ever again. It feels great to think that we will now be eating out in Michelin star restaurants as part of our job. I’m also planning on traveling around a bit and writing additional articles about the sights and tourist attractions around the area, just to add a bit of flavor and variation to the content of our magazine. Stacy is going to be taking care of the technical side of things, such as putting the pictures, text and advertisements together on well composed webpages.
“How are things looking with our advertisers? Have we got any companies yet that are interested in advertising their businesses in our magazine?” I asked as Stacy gives me an update on her progress.
“Yes, I had to give some of these companies a special rate just to get them started, but I’m happy to say that we do have some people who seem to be very excited by this magazine of ours and I think you will soon see our advertising revenue climbing sky-high,” Stacy says with great confidence.
“And subscriptions? I ask.
“I’m happy to say that we already have more than twenty paid subscriptions, just from the teasers and email blasts we sent out to announce the creation of the magazine,” Stacy says.
“That’s absolutely amazing! You mean there are people willing to pay three dollars a month for a magazine they’ve never even seen before?”
“You forget that I worked at another magazine before,” Stacy says with a naughty grin, “I still have some of the email lists which they used over there and I used all of the addresses on it to send out the information of our new magazine to people who already trust me when it comes to subscriptions, special offers and the like!”
Over the next couple of days Stacy and I work really hard and it’s not long before we are ready to put out our first issue. It consists, mainly, of some restaurant reviews, articles about tourist attractions in the area and short references to coming attractions. As soon as the magazine goes live, Stacy and I sit in front of my laptop, trying to gauge the kind of interest it is generating. We soon see some remarks in the comments section below the articles and they are all very positive.
“I just love your new magazine!” and “I never knew that Los Angeles had so many wonderful attractions, thank you for publishing this!” and many other similar comments along those lines. But it is the subscription page which really stuns and amazes me and Stacy. On the very first day, within the first hour after our first issue has gone live, we have more than fifty new subscriptions!
“That means we now have in excess of seventy subscriptions… and at three dollars per subscription, that means we are already getting in two hundred dollars a month in our very first month of publication!” Stacy says and we high-five to celebrate the success of the magazine.
“At this rate we will soon be looking at clear profit,” I say with great satisfaction and Stacy nods her head.
“Who would’ve thought that selling your virginity at an auction can lead to such a wonderful opportunity,” Stacy remarks and I have to agree with her that I am totally blown away by how all of this has worked out. We spent the next couple of days working on our second issue and I feel truly happy professionally for the first time in my life.
The only thing which feels like a slight void in my happy new life is the fact that I still don’t have a man to hold me at night… and I keep thinking back to that evening at the mansion and the incredible passion I shared with those eleven bikers, especially some of the moments between me and the gorgeous hunk with the blonde hair and the swirling dragon tattoos all over his muscular torso…
Chapter 6: Brad
At least now I have her surname, even if I don’t have any specific idea of how this is supposed to be helping me find her. Having spent some time on Facebook and the Internet without any success, I decide that the next best thing would be to just start asking around some public places in the area, such as libraries and schools.
The first thing I do is to go to a couple of libraries and ask them if they have someone by the name of Jenny Williams on their books. This is more successful than my Internet efforts, in the sense that I don’t find scores upon scores of people by the name of Jenny Williams at the various libraries where I make inquiries. The downside of it, of course, is that I don’t find any trace of a person by the name of Jenny Williams whatsoever… It’s almost as if this is the exact opposite of my Internet search and I start wondering if people by the name of Jenny Williams perhaps simply aren’t interested in books.
“Okay Jenny Williams, let’s see if you did manage to get some kind of high school education, even if you are not the kind of girl who likes to sit around the library and read books,” I say to myself with a laconic smile as I walk out of the last library.
I start driving off to some local schools in the area, but quickly realize that this is going to take me a very long time. Not only do I have the traffic to navigate, it’s also quite a mission to get to see someone, at any of the schools I visit, who can actually help me. People simply aren’t that willing to hand out information about past pupils at any of the high schools and they also don’t seem to be interested in my cash bribes.
“How dare you try to bribe the information out of me… I think you’d better leave before I call the police!” an old lady at the admin office of one specific school shouts at me as I try to buy some information from her for a hundred dollars.
I keep driving around and after a while I start wondering if this is just going to be a wild goose chase with no happy ending. I stop at a local restaurant just to have a bite to eat for lunch and order myself a chicken mayonnaise sandwich with soda. Out of boredom, more than anything else, I start chatting with the waitress and happen to mention that I am looking for a girl by the name of Jenny Williams.
“Jenny? Curvy girl with long blonde hair?” the waitress asks and I immediately sit up straight in my chair.
“Why? Do you know her?!” I ask excitedly.
“Know her? She was practic
ally my best friend at school!” the girl says and proceeds to tell me all about the way she and Jenny used to sit and chat in class when they should have been paying attention to the lectures. I cannot believe my luck and start thinking that, just perhaps, the universe has decided to assist me in my quest to find this incredible woman.
“I know this is slightly unusual, seeing as you don’t know me at all, but would you be so kind as to give me Jenny’s number?” I ask, very carefully.
“Oh, I wouldn’t mind giving you her number at all, except I lost contact with her about two years ago,” the girl says and shrugs her shoulders before turning around and walking away to serve another customer. I shake my head at my rotten luck and cannot believe that the waitress has lost contact with Jenny. But I’m not about to let this little lucky break fall by the wayside and when the waitress returns, I continued to question her.
“What exactly was the name of this high school that you and Jenny used to attend?” I ask and the waitress thinks about it for a moment before she replies.
“I guess I can tell you, as long as you promise not to go and stalk her or something… The name of the high school was Willow Bridge High.”
I pay for my food, leave a handsome tip for the waitress and then jump on the back of my Harley to race off to Willow Bridge High as fast as I can. I stop in front of the school and, having had some valuable experience in how to approach, and not approach, the admin staff at these places, I very gingerly knock on the office door with a plaque which says ‘admin’ once I get to the main building.
