Temporary Girlfriend

by Robert Wolf

©2012-2025 Robert Wolf. All Rights Reserved.

Chapter 1 - Becoming ’temporary’

I knew my morning coffee was going to get me into trouble. I had a sixth sense. I just didn’t know that it would change my life so completely.

I’d had the same thing every workday morning for two months since I’d discovered the hedonistic pleasure: a venti skinny vanilla latte. It cost $4.15 including tax. I spent over eighty dollars a month on this indulgence; I had this addiction that needed feeding. I really couldn’t afford the new habit. I was in a sorry state and starting to think about a twelve-step program - ‘My name’s Megan and I’m addicted to lattes’.

I knew someone else that also had an addiction to some Starbucks concoction. I didn’t know his name until one morning in early May. We saw into each other almost every day at the cafe near my little apartment.

My mystery man appeared just after I’d gotten my morning “fix” and started to push my way out of the crowded coffee shop salivating over the odor of the brew as it wafted to my nostrils. He was on his way in to get his morning concoction and squarely in front of me.

“Oh, hello,” he said in a flash of recognition as we slid by each other face-to-face in the narrow vestibule of the shop. We both smiled at each other. He had a winning smile and was handsome to a fault. I looked past the smile into his steel gray eyes and at his ash blond locks. “Hello,” I said, “I see you’re here for your morning injection too?”

“Of course,” he said. “I see you here a lot. I’m Josh - Josh Bannock.”

“And I’m Megan,” I jockeyed my coffee into my left hand with my large purse and put my right hand out to shake his hand. I thought how clever I’d been to remember not to give my last name to a stranger. “Nice to meet you officially after months of passing each other frequently.”

Impulsively he asked, “Will you wait for me? Do you have time or are you late for work?” He nodded outside the store. Those steel gray eyes worked their magic on me and I suddenly felt like a soft ice cream sandwich on a hot summer day. I got all warm and mushy inside. I would like to know more about the guy out of pure curiosity; I did see him so often.

“Yeah,” I said slowly, “I’ll be outside.” We squeezed past each other and I went through the outer door onto the sidewalk.

I wondered why I was suddenly so willing to meet a strange man, albeit a good-looking one. My last experience with a man ended abruptly nine months earlier and I certainly wasn’t looking for another jolt of pain and suffering right now. My close friends were on my case about getting back on the dating circuit and how I was long overdue.

A hundred feet to my right there was an empty park bench. I angled towards it, deposited my shoulder bag, and then sat so I could see the door to the coffee shop. I felt awkward sitting as the world whirled by me all on their way to some meaningful employment. I also thought I should do this more often; meaning, sit quietly and people watch. I did not think that I should pick up strange men in coffee shops more often.

I took my first luscious sip of my morning latte and sighed with what was the closest thing to an externally-induced orgasm that I’d had in almost a year - except for all the other lattes I’d had since I discovered them. Could my tongue actually be connected to my sex organs in some way? I briefly pondered that in a lewd way.

I quickly tried to assess how I looked. I checked my hair a little, not something I would normally do and hard to do with the long, straight style I wore. I pulled out my compact and did a little brush up to my makeup. I didn’t meet a guy this good looking on a regular basis; he’d certainly turned my head. I then worried about what we’d say to each other.

A minute later I turned towards Starbucks and ’Josh’ appeared looking around for me. At least, I remembered his name. I waved wildly until he saw me. He strolled towards me and I got a chance to look at him more carefully: mid-thirties, tasseled loafers, no sox, snug jeans that showed off long athletic legs and made me wonder about what else they might hide, a white dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up two turns, and aviator sunglasses pushed up on his head. Best of all though was his smile - a perfect smile with white glistening teeth that made some orthodontist proud and his parents poor, no doubt.

“I almost feel as though I know you, Megan,” Josh said as he arrived at the bench. I gestured beside me and he sat. “I’ve seen you here almost every day for months. I even notice what you wear; it’s become a contest for me to see if I can remember when you last wore the same thing. For instance, today’s blazer - that was last Wednesday, right?” He’d gestured at my jacket as he talked.

I laughed, “Right, probably. I don’t remember.” I paused and looked at him as he savored the first sip from his Starbuck’s cup. I watched his eyes roll up into his head as that magnificent first sip touched his taste buds. “What do you drink?”

“This week it’s a cinnamon dusted latte light brew coffee. I change all the time; must be daring and take risks.” He looked at me and sniffed the air; “You’re having a vanilla latte. I did that two weeks ago. Yummy.” He paused and added, “I also like the hint of perfume you’re wearing - Chanel?”

I laughed and nodded at his acute sense of smell. I was starting to think this guy was a ladies man of some kind. I’d never met a man that would recognize Chanel.

We sat and talked on the busy street as we savored our coffees. Our conversation started in a predictable way. I shared that I ran the commercial department for a medium-size ad agency a block to the south. He’d heard of the company.

Josh talked about his work helping to manage the investment portfolio for a charitable foundation a block to the north. I got the sense that he’d married his job. He did mention having grown up near Denver as well as still having family out there.

Josh said, “I became an eagle scout growing up and was also skilled at mountaineering all over the Rockies. I love to camp out although I haven’t done anything with those hobbies since I got my MBA a few years earlier and assumed my current job. I haven’t taken much time off.”

Maybe he was all work and no play. I guess I’d become that way too. I knew I was hiding in my work to escape the whole relationship and bar scene. Why did my head suddenly think that dating this relative stranger would be a good idea? I could hear the voices. My rational voice intervened and told me to stop having such dangerous ideas.

During our chat we somehow signaled that we were both ‘unattached’ and then kept talking about a hundred other things in that ‘get to know you’ conversation. I said, “I grew up outside of Durham, New Hampshire, the daughter of a college professor at the state university there. I double majored in art and business - thus, my job down the street - a lot of computer graphics involved too.” We also established that I was four years younger than he was. I mentioned my older sister, but gave no details.

Josh impressed me with his easy style and polite demeanor. He smiled often and I found myself drawn deeper and deeper into those beautiful eyes. Sometimes, he got shy about something and would look off, as though he suddenly got embarrassed talking to a strange new girl.

I flirted slightly. Maybe I actually was ready to venture forth into the world of dating again. All my friends seemed to have a foot planted squarely against my rear-end pushing me to come back on the circuit. I’d turned down uncounted blind dates that they wanted to arrange. Been there, done that, got a relationship that turned sour.

Our cups slowly emptied and I know I prolonged taking the last sip of my drink to extend our chat. As we talked and got to know each other, we sat and spun the cardboard protectors around our nearly empty and cold cups, each of us slightly nervous and reticent before the other in this odd mating dance.

I didn’t want to break the spell that seemed to have captured both of us. An aura of comfortable friendship that hinted at a potential for something more had descended upon us. I felt it and figured he did too.

Eventually, nearly an hour after we sat down, Josh’s cell phone beeped and vibrated quietly at his side. He jumped and after looking at the source of the call, routed the call to voicemail. “I should be going,” he said reluctantly. “I can’t say when I’ve enjoyed my coffee more. Will you meet me here about the same time tomorrow? I think the weather is supposed to be just as good. Springtime in New England.”

There was that inviting smile again.

I nodded enthusiastically and agreed to our informal ‘date’. We rose, shook hands, simultaneously said, “Until tomorrow,” and headed in our respective directions to work. I had a smile on my face and a spring in my step for a change and I hoped that Josh also did.

I found it hard to concentrate at work because of Josh. He’d been so engaging and cordial, yet he didn’t come on heavy at all. I’d left my last relationship with a low self-image, mostly created by my then live in boyfriend who frequently ran me down and told me how worthless I was. Even now, many months later, I struggled to overcome the psychological luggage from that two-year relationship.

At one point when I was in the women’s room at work I stopped and looked at myself in the large mirror. Today was my black and red day. I had black shoes, black tights, a black skirt and a black blazer on with a blazing red scoop neck top. My brunette hair, worn straight, only added to the message of invisibility I was trying to send: ‘Please don’t notice me’. Maybe I still thought of myself as damaged goods.

I stood profile to the mirror. I needed to lose twenty pounds. The blazer hid the fact that ten of those pounds were becoming a paunch and the other ten were excess luggage in my butt. That said, my figure could be described as full with a more than adequate rack. I hadn’t started to sag thus I still turned heads when I wore the right, snug fitting top or bent over wearing something loose. I could be a pretty good tease when I wanted to be. I had a lot of experience doing that.

Based on what others told me, I was pretty. I had a ‘girl next door’ kind of face, smooth and oval without the angular cheekbones or jaws of many fashion models. Hazel eyes and bright white teeth accented the Mediterranean complexion I’d inherited from my father, a man of Spanish heritage. I was lucky that I always looked as though I had a bit of a sun tan.

I sighed and went back to work while rethinking how I could fit in more exercise and less food into my regime.

Tuesday morning I picked up my usual latte and as I left the store Josh arrived. I just said, “Bench” to him over the din in the store as we passed and gestured towards where we’d sat the day before. We gave each other big smiles. What a nice way to start the morning.

My God, this man was more gorgeous that day than the day before. I’d had several Josh fantasies throughout the previous night including one resulting in a self-inflicted orgasm of very pleasant proportions. I shivered as I remembered the wave of pleasure. I been getting good at doing that. I could conjure up really good fantasies.

By sunrise, however, I’d decided I’d seen Josh through rose-colored glasses and that he couldn’t be ‘that’ good. Yet, here he was again in his tall, dark, and handsome splendor. He could have just stepped out of a Dolce and Gabbana advertisement. My heart did a little flippity-flop as I walked to the bench with my latte.

I resolved to find out Josh’s top three hundred bad habits so I could get grounded again and lose this puppy-love crush I seemed to have developed overnight, heavily weighted by personality traits assigned by my own imagination.

A few minutes later he joined me on the same bench with his coffee de jour. He told me that on bad weather days he came by bus from his condo in Charlestown. I confessed to a studio on Beacon Hill and proudly told him I usually walked the short distance. I noted that his neighborhood, adjacent to the Bunker Hill Monument, was considerably more upscale than my modest apartment even though I had a Beacon Hill address. My only window looked out on an alley.

I asked him some more about his work as an investment manager at the foundation and that started a discussion about risk taking and being a risk taker. He talked about the risk pyramid he was working at developing for the charity.

I commented, “I don’t know where I stand on your risk-taking scale. I grew up pretty sheltered, had a pretty bland college life, especially since I lived at home, and then I’ve only been in two long-term relationships that flopped. On the other hand, while in those relationships some interesting and daring things did occasionally occur.”

I was seriously understating my earlier life. If someone had followed me around, from time to time I would have been described as ‘wild’. Once I discovered sex, I nearly went out of control. I was trying to be demure with Josh.

Josh asked, “Just curious, but why would anybody break up with you. You’re so nice.”

I shook my head, “My last relationship dragged me down for two years after our blind date. In hindsight, it was a disaster and full of psychological abuse. One day, I woke up to how bad I felt about myself and why, and I walked out the door and didn’t look back.”

“What do you mean psychological abuse?”

I explained, “Roger wooed me for a month and won me over, but then showed his true colors as a chauvinistic bastard. I’d become the slave that he could degrade each day with disparaging comments about every aspect of my personality and behavior. I stayed too long expecting that the situation would change. We’d talk and Roger would change for a few days or a week but slip back into his demanding and demeaning ways. He liked running me down. I lost the ability to resist as my self-esteem disappeared until finally one day I woke up from the bad dream and just walked out. I admit my co-dependence in the situation.” I probably went into too much detail but it was cathartic and Josh seemed to be actively listening as I dumped. Finally, I ran out of steam.

Josh reached over and touched my arm gently, looked straight into my eyes and said, “Megan, I’m not Roger. I’d never run you down or say things like he did to you. I’d never do that with anybody. If anything, I try to build people up, not tear them down.”

His statement surprised me on several different levels. For one, it hinted that Josh wanted some kind of relationship. Based on what I’d been saying it also implied that he would be someone that would push me upward rather than pull me downward. I needed that. It also suggested he wouldn’t allow me to slip away in some negative co-dependent state.

I wondered if I was reading too much into his looks and his comments. He seemed so sincere.

Josh suddenly said, “Megan, I know you’ve only known me for two of the past twenty-six hours but I have a question to ask you - a proposition that will test your risk-taking abilities.”

He perked up and sat up straight to make his pitch to me. He grinned and looked encouragingly at me waiting for me to invite his question. My curiosity was piqued and so I nodded while displaying one of my genuine happy smiles. I figured he would ask for a date on the weekend.

He went on, “Would you spend the coming weekend with me - in Aspen, Colorado?”

I know my mouth flopped open. I could feel the morning air rushing in as I inhaled.

Josh babbled on talking faster, obviously trying to convince me to say yes. “It wouldn’t cost you anything - I’ll pay for everything. You’d be doing me a huge favor. I’ll pay for everything including whatever outfits you figure you’ll need for the trip and the event I have to be at - and you can keep those as your own afterwards. Oh, and I assure you I am of good moral character, have no designs on your body, and … well, would you be willing to fly out there with me? I think it might be interesting for you if not a little bit of fun. I just really, really need a ’temporary girlfriend’.”

Somehow my mind flitted to the love scene I’d envisioned just as my bedtime orgasm washed over me. I tried to push that out of my head as not a relevant decision-making factor. The scene reappeared anyway. My brain had just become turbo-charged on the potential for sex with Mr. Handsome, but also headed in a hundred other different directions at once.

Oh, my God. Did Josh think that I was an easy piece? Did I come across that way? What on earth would provoke a guy to ask me to go on a date 2,000-miles away? What did he really think about me? The brief discussion we’d had about risk taking and getting away from one’s comfort zone in order to grow also flew through my brain - nothing wrong with my short-term memory.

I think I shut my mouth about then. I thought for a split second further and then blurted out, “Yes, I’d love to,” before my rational self could intervene. I added, “Tell me more,” a bit more quietly but audibly.

“Whew,” he said. “There’s a wedding out there and while I’m not “in” it, I’m sort of an important guest. My family and some old friends will be there .”

“And you need a ’temporary girlfriend’ - a date? A plus one?” I posited.

Josh replied tentatively, “Actually, I need more than a date - if you’re willing to rescue me from my hermit-like existence. My brother, sisters, best friends, cousins, and even some distant friends have all given me increasing grief for years about not having a girlfriend - even something more permanent.” He paused.

“Yesssss?” I said slowly, my brain actively engaged in assessing this new situation. Little red flags were waving as I wondered why he hadn’t dated and described himself as a hermit. Maybe Josh was gay, but hadn’t come out and told anybody in his circle of family and friends.

He went on, “So, I told a little lie when I was back there for a couple of days over Christmas.”

“You told them you had a steady girlfriend,” I said flatly.

Josh nodded. I got it in one.

“And I am the only hope you have to rescue your sorry ass and reputation from all of those people.” I smiled widely as I tortured him. I had started to laugh inside. This might actually be the fun trip he predicted, but probably not for the same reasons. I had been in school plays and even did a couple in college, so I think I could gear up for some acting, in this case as a serious girlfriend.

“Yes,” he said sheepishly. He looked down. “I’d be forever in your debt.”

“And why are you in this situation?” I asked in a more serious tone, “Are you gay but in secret? Are you a closet MCP? Do you really not like women?” I squeezed the stone. I was turning the tables on him about the sorry state of our love lives. He became the confessor.

“Well,” Josh said looking up and talking with greater animation, “No, I’m not gay, I hope I don’t have chauvinistic tendencies, and I do like women. The fact is that I work too hard. I’m the guy that started the foundation about four years that I told you I work at. I spend just about all of my time on it. I haven’t really had much of a social life since I got out of grad school, just a few family events every now and then or an occasional friend stopping by Boston from out of town.”

“You ‘started’ the foundation - the whole charitable foundation?” I asked incredulously. “You said you worked at one yesterday but I didn’t realize it was ‘yours’!”

“Yeah,” he said modestly. “The initial money that started it was part of a modest inheritance from my parents. They died in plane crash about ten years ago.”

I stammered out, “Oh, I’m so sorry.”

“Thank you and it’s okay now,” Josh said in a reverent tone. “It was a long time ago now - 2014, actually. They were on their way to Europe on a Swissair flight that crashed off the coast of Canada. I’d just started grad school for an MBA when it happened. Needless to say their estate was in a shambles for a while. Getting it the way they wanted it was my first duty after graduating.”

“Oh,” I said not knowing where to take the conversation. I didn’t really know how to content with someone’s grief.

I think Josh read my confusion as he studied my face. He took my hand in his and I willingly squeezed back to show I appreciated his candor and to show my sympathy.

“So, anyway, about Colorado,” he started. “The trip is to the wedding of my youngest sister,” Josh said more energetically. “She’s been engaged for the past two years to a nice bloke I’ve met twice - the last two Christmases - and the wedding is Saturday afternoon in Aspen - five days from today.”

He paused and checked in with me to see if I was still on his wavelength. I was.

He went on, “We’ll fly to Aspen from here - Friday afternoon if you can do it - and, if you can spare an extra day on Monday we can see if there’s still some spring skiing left, otherwise I could have you back here late Sunday night. Your duties would be to act like a serious girlfriend - whatever that means. Are you good at acting?”

“I opt for the ski day,” I said with a smile, “and I think I can play act my way through this. I did some plays in college, but this will be a lot more challenging because of the constant scrutiny. I’m not sure I like the idea of supporting your white lies to your family but I guess I will help rescue you.”

Inside me a little voice was screaming, “No! No! No! Don’t do it.” I could also hear another little voice saying, “Finally! About time! Get out there, date, and be social! This guy’s cute! Say ‘yes’ to everything.” My two voices were fighting with each other - not unusual for inside my head.

Josh broke into a big grin. “Thank you so much. You are saving me from unbridled torture at the hands of people that say they love me - mostly my sisters. They have been brutal..”

My rational self then started to kick in, “Now, what kind of ‘duties’ will I be expected to perform? And am I not supposed to know you better than that you hang out at the Boylston Street Starbucks at seven-thirty most mornings trolling for a ’temporary girlfriend’?”

Josh thought for a few seconds then said, “We have a few days before we would go. If you’re free, we can keep meeting like this in the mornings and how about Thursday I take you out to dinner and I’ll show you my condo - you should have seen that before we go to Colorado? It’s special and my brother and both my sisters and a few friends have seen the place at one time or another during stopovers in Boston. You should be able to comment on it, if asked.”

“I would be delighted,” I replied with my toothpaste-commercial smile. “This gets more complicated but the whole idea excites me. What’s that quote? Something about ‘all the world’s a stage and all the men and women merely players’.”

Josh said, “I’ve got to go but here’s my business card. My cellphone number’s on the back. It also has my e-mail on it.”

“Oh, let me give you one of mine too,” I said. I dug frantically in my shoulder bag until I found my cardholder and produced a card. I wrote my cell number on the back: in for a penny, in for a pound. Perhaps I’d just given a serial-killer all my contact information. Oh, well; it’s been a good life so far.

As I wrote I suddenly turned to Josh and asked, “You said the foundation was the reason you don’t have a girlfriend. There’s another reason, right?”

Josh studied my face as he accepted my business card, “Yes,” he said slowly as he looked down at the ground, “I’m scared of relationships. I’ve never been in a serious relationship, but when I was in undergrad I did kind of go steady. To tell the truth, that one sort of hurt me a lot when it fell apart. She had more ambitions about the corporate world than I did at the time.”

He went on, “Further, I guess you should know, I have a weird philosophy about relationships now and I’m guessing that no one in their right mind would probably want to get seriously involved with me until I change to back to ‘normal’ somehow. I’ll tell it to you one of these days. Lastly, I guess I’m scared of commitment; I’ve never found anyone that inspired my use of the word.”

I caught his eye and said, “Then don’t.”

He looked puzzled and so I added, “Just take one day at a time. You don’t have to commit to anything other than being here right now - with me.” I added, “Okay ‘boyfriend’?”

He laughed nervously and said, “Okay ‘girlfriend’.” We both got up to leave.

I then said, “Oh, you have homework. I’d like to know what you told them about your erstwhile girlfriend when you were out there. I hope you didn’t give them a name or tell them I was blonde. What expectations will I have to meet?”

He laughed and said, “I’ll make a list today. Until tomorrow - and thank you, thank you, thank you so much.” He bowed. “You don’t know what this means to me. I’ll be forever in your debt.”

He leaned in and kissed me on the cheek. I squeezed his hand.

With that he turned and strode away from me with a happy flair to his walk. I think my mouth was hanging open again. My cheek still burned from his kiss.

Chapter 2 - Learning the Details

Each of the next three mornings we spent an hour learning about each other. Josh also realized we’d have some time to talk on the plane ride to Aspen.

I brought a framework I found on the Internet about relationships and what couples were supposed to know about each other. I did that so we could focus the discussion on particular parts of our lives besides our jobs. We spent Wednesday morning on genealogy and how we felt about our families, member by member. We also talked about our resumes, where we’d lived, our work, career paths, and what we sought by working.

I pose one of the questions from the list and then we’d talk rapidly at each other, taking turns filling in some of the details. It wasn’t speed dating, but it was close and in much greater detail.

Thursday we talked about our religious upbringing that for both of us left us spiritual yet not churchy. We also talked about our exercise regimes and goals. We briefly talked about our hopes and aspirations for our lives and then our life goals, breaking off to go to work and arranging to meet for dinner. Our whole demeanor was about preparing each other for the roles we’d play of boyfriend-girlfriend.

Josh called me about one o’clock on Thursday and told me he’d booked dinner at Radius - one of the more if not the most upscale restaurant in Boston and one that was far out of my league in terms of prices. I’d never been there.

Given the nature of the restaurant I figured I’d better rethink my ‘going out for a bite after work’ mode of dress. Further, going to Radius signals that this a ‘serious’ date. That made me nervous. I guess I was still suspicious of Josh.

What worked in the office would definitely not work at Radius. Thus, for a change, I left work at four o’clock much to the surprise of my colleagues, went to the hair dressers and got the works, and then headed back to my studio apartment to change into my best dress..

Josh had said he’d pick me up about seven-thirty. I was ready about seven and pacing the floor but doing little adjustments to my ‘look’ every other circuit. Pacing in my studio is hard to do because it is so small. I had to circle the coffee table to get any steam up in a pace. I was nervous.

I’d decided to wear my LBD - my little black dress. I picked that for several reasons. First, it is probably the nicest and sexiest dress I have, the wavy hemline oscillating three to six inches below my crotch. One of my girlfriends called a ‘Greyhound Dress’ since the hem was three inches from the hare (hair! Get it?). Second, it is the only dress I have that is even slightly worthy of Radius.

I also had on my black spike heels. The combination of the dress and the heels made my legs look like a million bucks. I do have great looking legs. The dress also did very nice things for my ass too, even though I wouldn’t have time to lose the extra weight that I needed to. I had started a crash diet, but had no results to show for two days of starvation.

I tried to decide what jewelry to wear with the outfit. I’d gotten as far as picking a pair of earrings that were simple two-inch gold loops. With my new hairdo I thought the earrings did a nice job of giving me an enticing and sexy look.

I paused in front of the mirror again. What did I know about this guy for sure other than he liked Starbucks? He could be a mass rapist or some kind of axe murderer that preyed on women my age? This could be the date from hell. I could have committed to the weekend from hell. What if his family were all looney tunes? Was my acceptance of this weekend just a flight of fancy for me that I’d regret all the rest of my days?

The doorbell rang. Josh was early? Did I have the time wrong?

I peeked through the eyepiece in my door and there was a floral deliveryman at my door. I opened the door with the chain on.

“Delivery for Megan Watson,” he smiled and held out a corsage box.

I adjusted the door and opened it all the way.

Florist man handed me the box and wished me a good evening, turned and disappeared down the stairs of my building.

I took the chilled white box into my living room and opened it. There was a beautiful orchid corsage, small and not too flashy, yet carefully crafted. All the bad thoughts about Josh vanished from my mind. That made me remember that I was supposed to be looking for three-hundred bad traits about him so I could forget him - and also stop thinking about him when I masturbated. He couldn’t have three-hundred bad habits; he had to have three-hundred good ones. He was soooo nice.

There was a small envelope with ‘Megan’ written on it. I opened it and read the enclosed card: “Pretty flowers for a much prettier woman. See you soon ‘girlfriend’. Josh.”

My heart melted. Maybe I’d let this guy get lucky on our first date. What am I thinking? I tried to bury that idea really fast.

I sat and smelled the flowers for five minutes. I decided I’d better stop or there’d be no more odor buds on the flowers by the time we went for dinner. I went and touched up my makeup for the fortieth time that night and paced some more, now wearing the corsage pinned to my dress. I changed my earrings for the fifth time in the past half hour. My fake diamond studs replaced the hoops.

On the dot of seven-thirty Josh knocked on the door. I opened it to find my handsome prince standing there in a very fashionable tuxedo. My God, the last time anyone had picked me up in a tuxedo was my high school senior prom. This man was scoring points he didn’t even know about. I expected my mother would want photos of the event.

“Wow,” he said. “You look magnificent. I already think this may be the best date I’ve ever been on.” His comment didn’t betray even the slightest hint that he wanted to feed me a line.

More points, I thought.

“Come in for a minute,” I said. “I’d show you the place, except you can see it all from where you’re standing.” Josh stood and gazed about my neatened studio. Everything was packed carefully in the vertical racks and bookcases - not a cubic inch was wasted or empty, floor to ceiling. I was a packrat. Even over the closet and entry door there were shelves full of my stuff.

A few pieces of my own art that intrigued me decorated the walls. He asked about them and I explained each piece briefly.

Finally, I picked up a paisley shawl, put it over the one shoulder that didn’t have the flowers on it and gestured to the door. We left and locked up.

I let Josh escort me down to his car that was double parked at the curb. His car turned out to be a vintage Porsche 944 Turbo.

I’d never ridden in a Porsche. I jumped up and down a little with glee. Josh laughed at my antics. “I’ve always wanted to ride in a car like this.”

Fifteen minutes later, after entrusting the Porsche to a valet, we were seated in the posh amber glow of the restaurant’s many chandeliers and sconces. My chair had a velveteen finish on it and I thought that I might do nothing but rub the edge of the chair by my butt all night long to enjoy the tactile sensation from the fabric.

Josh got us both chocolate martinis - something I’d never tried before and after one sip declared as my new favorite drink. We were sitting side by side in a booth and it gave me the opportunity to study Josh as well as touch his arm with little flirty gestures.

Josh apologized ahead of time for any infraction of manners that he might incur; “You have to understand that I haven’t been on a real date in five years. Grad school and the foundation has taken up all of my time so I just haven’t felt I could leave it. I know that I’m a control freak - certainly about the foundation.”

I looked attentive and nodded encouragingly to hear him talk.

He went on, “I think things are getting to where I could at least let them coast every now and then rather than feel that if I wasn’t in personal control things would fly apart. I have hired a dozen competent people to help me there. I keep having to remind myself to delegate and often to get out of their way. I’m still looking for ten more like the first batch.”

I admitted that I had ‘control’ issues too, particularly about the quality of the art and other studio work that my company produced for our clients. We bounced around talking about business.

Over appetizers, I asked, “Tell me your life philosophy? Also you haven’t told me what you told your family and friends about me - about your girlfriend?”

Josh said, “Let me take the second question first. Under great duress and having had a tad too much wine, I told Van, Katelyn, and Fiona - my sibs - that I did to have a girlfriend but that you’d had to spend the holidays with your family outside Boston somewhere. I think I said you had dark hair and a nice figure. I said you had your own business, so you’ll have to waltz around how I got that wrong. I avoided saying what business you were in and I told you I didn’t give a name - you are just ‘nameless girlfriend’ to them.” He laughed at some internal joke.

I said with a touch of sarcastic humor, “Well, you certainly spilled the beans and left them knowing all about me, didn’t you?”

“I’ve always been terse.” He thought and then said, “Oh, I did tell them you liked to jog and ski - so it’s a good thing you opted for the ski day. I told them you volunteered - charitable work of some kind; that scores big points in my family; it’s one of the family values - philanthropy in both action and pocketbook. I think I also said you were intellectual and liked to read a lot.”

“Did you tell them how we met?” I asked.

“Fiona, the one getting married, asked me that,” Josh said. “I told her we’d met at a party - some mutual friends through Charles Schwab that handles the investments in the foundation.”

I muttered under my breath, “Party, Schwab, investments,” trying to memorize the small points to buttress Josh’s white lie to Fiona.

“You’ve mentioned your friends, but you haven’t talked about them yet. What did you tell them?”

Josh continued between bites of a carefully crafted shrimp cocktail, “A few of my five best friends may be around sometime over the weekend but not at the wedding - all are my age and we were in high school together. David is now a flight instructor at small airport outside Denver, but probably going to work for Cessna in Wichita. Bud is an insurance agent; Paul’s a computer jock of some type; Jim’s a marketing guy for Coors; and Scott is a software designer and consultant.”

“Are you the only one that’s left town?” I asked.

“Yes and all but Greg and David are married but still see each other occasionally. I seem to be the holdout on the dating and marriage front. Lots of pressure there, and I expect more.” Josh rolled his eyes skyward. “Your efforts will go a long way towards removing some of the stigma that has haunted me for years.” He laughed at his own humor.

Our entrees arrived with a great flourish and our conversation continued with me asking questions of Josh. To play the role of ’temporary girlfriend’ I figured there was a basic body of knowledge about each other that we should know.

As we talked we shifted closer and closer to each other. I felt the flush of interpersonal chemistry with Josh and from his attention he did too. We started to touch each other, first just small gestures to the other’s sleeve or shoulder. Then we sought skin by a touch to the neck or face. I dusted a crumb from a dinner roll from Josh’s cheek, surprising myself by letting my fingers linger a second longer than required.

As our dinner plates were cleared Josh reached over and held my hand. There was no pretense, just an open wish to be in contact with me. I welcomed his advance. The chemistry got thicker.

Over coffee I pulled Josh’s arm around me. We were in a booth and we both found comfort in my move.

At one point I put my head on his shoulder and could feel him nuzzle his face into my hair. This ride was suddenly going very fast and I welcomed the speed.

I turned to him and we kissed. We’d both wanted to kiss each other for the past hour - at least. I would have kissed him Monday in front of Starbucks. Hell, I would have screwed him in front of Starbucks by Tuesday.

Our first kiss became a noteworthy milestone in our new relationship. The growing affection and attraction we both felt for each other came through loud and clear. Chalk one up for the romantic atmosphere of Radius.

Josh said, “Will you come back to my condo with me? You need to see it anyway before we go to Aspen.”

I nodded my agreement knowing that there’d be further kisses and some decisions about how fast and how far this relationship was moving.

We kissed again and with greater frequency as we finished our coffees and Josh settled the bill with a platinum credit card. The Porsche was waiting at the door for our departure and I knew intrinsically that point was significant. I saw Josh slip the valet a twenty-dollar bill.

The building with Josh’s condo looked modest from the outside, however, the inside impressed immediately. The garage and hallways were spotless and carefully maintained. The building faced the impressive Bunker Hill Monument.

Josh parked in a private garage under the building. A private elevator whisked us up to Josh’s penthouse and when the doors opened and Josh flipped on a light switch I instantly came to an abrupt stop taking in the great room. Holy shit! This was no little condo or apartment near Boston. This was a fucking palace. I realized that I was swearing because of the unexpected display of … wealth.

Josh nudged me further into the room as I twirled around looking up at the high ceilings and around at the ultra-modern décor.

At one end of the room stood a modern kitchen with granite countertops. Every kitchen convenience known to modern man was evident. Modern lighting lit the room from every direction. Bar stools allowed guests to talk to the cooks while meals were being prepared. A thick glass top dining room table that could seat twelve sat midway across the room surrounded by robust and comfortable swivel barrel chairs.

The living room centered on a fireplace and hearth with modern sofas built into a conversation pit that guests descended into. A large glass coffee table was centered in the pit. Modern paintings decorated the walls here and there. I knew art, and the art were all originals and unbelievably expensive. From the far wall of the kitchen through the living room to the opposite side of the building had to be nearly a hundred feet.

Tall windows filled the two exterior walls visible in the room, each with a settee built into the window alcove. Outside through the darkness was the Boston skyline as well as the lights from the attractive Interstate bridge over the Mystic River. The effect was startlingly beautiful. The view was also VERY expensive.

Josh stood with obvious pride as I marveled at the splendor of his condo.

“Oh wow!” I kept muttering as we walked deeper into the room. I was in awe at the simple luxury of Josh’s home.

Suddenly I realized the expense of what I was seeing and what that meant about Josh. I turned to him with a huge question on my face. I skipped about ten obvious questions and went right to “Why me?”

Josh came to me and held me by the shoulders at arm’s length; one thumb lightly stroked my neck. “I like you. I need you. I think you like me. You have a beautiful smile. After talking to you all week I know you are what I need.”

“The wedding?” I asked.

“We leave here at noon tomorrow if you’re still willing?”

“Josh, you obviously come from money. I didn’t realize it but now the pieces fit. The foundation - family foundation - your foundation; the Porsche; the expensive restaurant, and now this.” I gestured about the condo. “I’m pretty poor actually. I’m making about eighty thousand a year - and in my family that’s a record. When my parents retire they’ll need some of my financial help to get by. College professors at state universities are not big bread winners. My mom works in a clerical job at a law office. I’ve never been close to money.”

“Megan, please don’t think about the economic differences between us. Please don’t think of any differences between us. I know you’re not a gold digger. I could tell after talking to you for five minutes. The rest I don’t care about and I don’t want you to do so either.”

Josh pulled me into him slowly and I went quite willingly. We leaned into each other and kissed. This time it was one of those explosive, TNT packed kisses full of tremendous potential and loaded with promises of greater things to come.

Josh touched a control on the countertop and the main lights dimmed, leaving a few pieces of art spotlighted as well as a hallway that I assume went back to his bedroom. He touched another button on the control console and the fireplace leapt into flames. He also shed the jacket and tie to his tux, draping the jacket over a dining room chair.

“Come,” Josh said. He led me into the living room ‘pit’ and pulled me beside him on the sofa. As I snuggled against him I remembered the flowers; I unpinned the corsage and put it on the glass coffee table; I didn’t want it crushed. When I turned back to him, he held his arms open to me and I melted into them and into a series of hot kisses that reminded me what I was missing by not having a relationship. At the same time, I’m wondering if this relationship could even work given we were so far apart economically.

Adult necking is exciting because you know sooner or later where it could lead. In this case I really wanted to be seduced or to be the seductress. I didn’t care; I just wanted to be loved by this man - even as a ’temporary girlfriend’.

Josh was being very proper about where to put his hands. He stroked my arms and my neck and of course was kissing me in those places too. After a while I realized he was not going to make ‘the’ move. I also noticed that my skirt had ridden up almost to my hips clearly exposing my little black lacy bikini underwear and the tops of my hose.

Eventually as we were locked in a long French kiss, I took one of Josh’s hands and moved it to my left breast. If he hadn’t already figured it out, I was bra-less under my LBD.

The hand went to work immediately bringing me pleasure, stroking and smoothing me through the material of the dress. I know we could both feel my nipples harden to his touch. The more he touched the more I was certain where I wanted this to go.

As we kissed again and again, I took Josh’s hand and this time brought it to the skin above my stocking tops and below my black lace panties. Josh moaned his pleasure at my invitation to even greater intimacy. I could feel my own level of horniness soaring into outer space.

I had had other lovers in my life that were more experienced but they were also more presumptive. Josh did not assume anything about where we were going. I’m not sure he knew. I did and from here on this was my parade.

As he stroked the skin and my thighs, I gave a little moan of pleasure too. I finally said, “You can touch me anywhere you want, Josh, anywhere. I give myself to you tonight.”

Josh whispered, “That’s a big responsibility and I accept. I give myself to you too.”

I thought I must be luckiest girl in the whole world. Here I had this hunk of a guy who could be in movies and instead he was with me. Further, he was nice and level headed and wasn’t the dork that so many of the guys I’d met recently seemed to be. He actually paid attention to me, and I didn’t detect any of negative traits for my ‘Three-hundred bad things about Josh’ list.

Chapter 3 - Seduction

Josh started to rub my pubic area through the lace panties. I could feel myself flood with girl juice in anticipation of our coupling. I know my attractive sexual odor and pheromones were proliferating from my groin into the room and his nostrils; I hoped they were working.

I reached over to Josh with one hand and rubbed his thighs up to their union. Beneath the pants to his tuxedo I could feel a firm bulge. I stoked with different levels of pressure and in different ways all around the area. Things grew faster, bigger, and harder. I was impressed and wanted more.

We made better use of our hands and mouths now that I’d established the permissible landscape for travel - anywhere!

Finally, I could stand it no longer and slowly stood in the dim light, the gas fire flickering behind me. Josh watched me with a questioning look on his face.

“Too many clothes,” I said. “I’m getting more comfortable and into this … situation.”

I shimmied a little in front of Josh just to catch his attention and then magically lifted the little black dress up over my head. I stood in my CFM heels, dark stockings, bikinis and no bra; I looked at Josh. I struck several sexy poses and then gestured that he should be removing his clothing.

He quickly followed my lead. He’d become mesmerized by my rapid strip and had stopped removing his own clothing. I was actually pleased I could elicit a look of such awe from such a hot guy.

I covered my breasts with my hands and he looked disappointed. I then rubbed them, accelerating the rise of my nipples until I was sure they could cut glass. His eyes flared with lust - a good sign for what I had in mind.

I held my breasts forward to him as eye candy and for his enjoyment. I felt unbelievably sexy and most definitely the seductress of the evening.

Josh quickly stood and lost his shirt and started to work on his pants, at least getting them down to his knees. I pushed him back so he sat again, and came forward so I could kiss Josh knowing that as I did my two breasts would become pendulums swinging in the dim light for his enjoyment. I wanted to show off my wares. I wanted him to touch and feel me. God, I needed this. I even dreamed of this.

As we kissed both of Josh’s hands rose and held my breasts, carefully weighing and caressing each globe. His hands were warm and comfortable, kneading and fondling with just the right amount of pressure and attention.

As his hands shifted their attention to my nipples I could feel the sensations shoot through my body, ending with a further flood of fluid from the love ducts in my pussy. I realized that my nipples had established an intense connection right to my clitoris. I paid rapt attention to his every move and responded with lust.

We kissed again and then I directed Josh’s mouth to my breasts. I straddled Josh’s hips but elevated my body so my breasts were at the level of his mouth. He got the idea right away and started to suck on each of my breasts, alternately kissing, slavering, and sucking hard on and around each nipple. I was very glad that he knew what to do with my equipment.

I thought, ‘Oh, my God, I’ve died and gone to heaven.’ The sensations were almost too much to bear … but I bore up under the strain.

After a few minutes, I pulled away from Josh and pulled his pants down his legs. Loafers and socks went next, and then the pants. Next, I went for his briefs. I wanted to see exactly what was causing that large bulge in the dark fabric of his underwear.

As I pulled down the briefs, Josh raised his hips, so in one smooth move I yanked the shorts down to his knees. Immediately his large cock unfurled into view, unfurling almost like a flag captured by a sudden wind that moves from a small tuft of fabric into being a grand and glorious display waving in the air. Such was my first impression of Josh’s privates. I grinned in glee up at his face, seeing those sexy eyes again. He looked relieved.

I knelt before Josh and pulled his briefs off the rest of the way, tossing them into the growing pile of our clothing.

My hands reached up and together encompassed Josh’s penis, counter twisting the growing rod of flesh in my hands. I could feel the surge of growth as Josh moaned into the darkness, his head lolling back on the sofa in ecstasy as I fondled him. “God, Megan, you … you’re the best.”

I’d learned about blowjobs in high school. At the time they’d been a more than adequate substitute for intercourse plus some of the boys I dated usually were thoughtful enough to return the favor with their version of cunnilingus. Thus, over the years I had not only developed a skill and facility for the act but a genuine fondness. Further, unlike many women I actually appreciated the final act of ejaculation into my mouth and enjoyed the look of lust and pleasure on a guy’s face as I swallowed his emissions.

I leaned over Josh and wrapped his cock with my breasts. His head snapped forward from his reverie so he could watch what I was doing. I must admit when I’d seen it in porn films the act looked dirty and seductive, and I loved doing it. Josh apparently liked it too for he started moaning and expressing his appreciation at my version of a tit fuck. I drooled some spit into my cleavage to lubricate his sliding around.

After a few minutes of that I slid his cock up my chest and neck and then glommed onto the mushroomed head with my mouth. Another loud moan came from deep within Josh’s body.

I pumped with one hand and rose and fell over his unit with my head, my tongue rolling around the cockhead to deliver maximum stimulation. I could feel the penis grow even more and harden as I delivered my lust to him.

Occasionally, I pulled off of Josh completely and blew lightly on the saliva-soaked rod; as I did I’d run a fingernail up and down the prominent veins. The texture of his cock grew to that of hardened steel.

Finally, I stood before Josh. He looked at me with the lust that I had fully aroused in him. I liked this look. I carefully and seductively peeled my black bikini panties down my legs, retaining my sexy black nylons and spike heels. Someone had told me once that guys love seeing a woman wearing heels while they fuck; something about increasing the erotic sight picture.

I ran my hands around my pussy, moving so Josh’s head ended only a few inches from my ground zero. I ran two fingers of one hand into my vagina and pulled them out. I licked them then brought them to Josh’s mouth. He licked. I hope he liked my taste.

I turned around and bent over revealing my ass and pussy to this man. I even spread my cheeks and my pussy so he could see my pink insides. I turned back to him at arm’s length and spread my legs.

Josh brought a hand up and ran it up the inside of my thigh. The touch was electric. I felt like I was on fire. I held his hand and directed it to my cunt. Two of his fingers penetrated my sopping vagina, my fluids flooded over as he made a few strokes in and out of me.

The whole time his fingers penetrated me our eyes were locked on each other. I steadied myself with one hand on his shoulder as I rotated my hips to meet his touch.

Finally, I spoke, “Can we make love? Please. Take me!”

Josh rose from the sofa and faced me, his arms wrapped around me and we kissed in a most intimate and yet loving kiss of the night as our nude bodies pressed together for the first time. Without warning Josh picked me up and quickly carried me down the hallway I’d seen and had assumed led to the bedroom area. I was right.

Josh’s bedroom was also dimly lit by low wattage spots on some of the artwork on the walls. The windows also faced the Boston skyline and new bridge; spectacular view but that wasn’t why I’d come.

He set me gently on the bed and moved between my legs. I pulled my legs up to welcome his advance. Josh thrust his tongue forward into my slit, licking, and savoring all of the fluids I’d been leaking throughout the evening. I think the corsage had been the turning point. I’m a sucker for flowers. Then again, maybe he had me at ‘hello’.

This man knew his way around a woman’s pussy and he toured all over mine. Tongue and then fingers stoked, licked and sucked in all the right places. My little tufts of sensitive skin found their way into his mouth with just the right pressure and stimulation. I knew that I had big ‘flaps’.

I soared ever higher, until I could take it no more and clutched Josh’s head to my nether region and allowed my first orgasm of the night to wash over me. Oh, God, this was heavenly, and it wasn’t self-induced that made it a hundred times better and more intense.

My heart raced, my blood pressure must have skyrocketed, and I had the fine sheen of lust all over my body to celebrate the passing of that orgasm. “Wow!”

I pulled Josh up towards me. “Come. Nest inside me Lover.” He didn’t need a second invitation.

Josh slid his hardness into my velvet sheath in one smooth stroke. Again our eyes were locked on each other’s. This was a union we both sought with both our bodies … and as it would turn out our hearts.

I urged Josh’s thrusts into me using my own abilities to rotate and thrust into his down strokes with my pelvis. We were hell bent on achieving more orgasms and in only a few minutes Josh warned of his impending climax.

“Come in me,” I said. “I want you; I want your cum, I want your … love.”

I thought, ‘Oh my God, I’ve said the ‘L’ word. What will he think.’ What did I think? Where had that emotional statement come from? I knew; passion.

My words didn’t seem to change Josh’s ardor and he continued to drive deeper into me with ever-faster strokes. I started to moan and add short words of encouragement.

“Cum. Fill me. Fuck me. Shoot into me. Oooooooooh. Ooooooooh fuuuucccccckkkkkk!”

I was holding off my own climax to await Josh’s. When he started to make his final lunges into my body I gave into what my body had been pleading for - total release.

We both exploded into each other. I could feel the jets of Josh’s ejaculations washing down the inside of my vagina and covering my cervix. Every nerve ending inside my sheath was afire with pleasure as I spasmed around his spike. I hoped he could feel and sense how happy I was with what just happened and was still happening.

For half a minute we were a statue frozen in time. Our hearts beat yet no one breathed or moved. We just savored the pleasure of the intense orgasms that touched us both.

Then we both gasped for air and I pulled Josh down into my arms, cradling his head on my shoulder as I wrapped my arms and legs around him.

“Wow,” he whispered to me as we both panted.

“Yeah,” I said, “Double wow.”

We were both silent after those assertions. I guess we were both unsure what to say or where to take the conversation or even whether a conversation was needed.

We were both lightly stroking each other. Josh was running a finger lazily around my right breast. The sensation was delightful. I was stroking his arm with one hand and touching his hair with my other hand.

After several minutes I broke the silence. “Josh, thank you. That was magnificent. You are a divine lover.”

He leaned in and kissed me. “And you, dearest Megan, are an adorable surprise and a delight.”

My heart went all flippity-flop again. I am also a sucker for being adored.

I spent the night with Josh. We made love again with equally hot results that left us wanting more of each other. In the morning, Josh awakened me with lots of kisses - my kind of alarm clock!

In the bold light of day we both looked at each other full of questions about whether the previous night has been an aberration. Josh looked at me between his initial kisses and after my eyes were open with his eyebrows peaked over the brow of his beautiful nose. They were sort of asking if this whole situation was alright or whether I wanted to run screaming out the door.

To remove that stigma, at least from my point of view, I pulled Josh to me after his second or third kiss and said, “You can make love to me like you did last night any time you want. For me that was the perfect date. You are the perfect date. I like being your ’temporary girlfriend’. I sure hope you need one a little longer than just the coming weekend."

I turned so I could kiss him better and pulled him into me. We were both still nude and I quite purposefully pulled the sheet down my body to reveal my breasts to Josh and the rays of early morning spring sunshine. Secretly too, I hoped he’d make some statement removing the stigma of ’temporary’ from my status.

Josh responded well - my kind of man. We made love again but he made no comment about us getting more serious. That was fine. We were really on our first serious date - dinner at Radius, a tour of his place, and then our lovemaking.

After the two of us showered together in his luxurious bathroom I stumbled around the living room collecting my clothing and redressing. I stuck the stockings in a grocery store bag along with the shawl and somehow got back into the rest of the things I’d been wearing. Josh dressed more casually and appeared just as I slid the LBD down over my body.

“Such a shame to cover up such beauty,” he said and he came and took me in his arms again.

“Oh, I bet you say that to all the girls you entertain here.”

Josh looked at me seriously and said, “Other than family and a couple of guy friends, you are the first girl - woman - that has been here - the way we were last night. I meant what I said about having been a hermit for a long time.”

“Well, Mr. Hermit, you were exceptional last night. I know that you turned me on and kept turning me on and … well, you’re still turning me on.” We kissed again and then I pushed him off.

“You have to take me home so I can be ready for our flight to Colorado. By the way what time is our flight? What airline?”

Josh looked a little pleased with himself; he said, “I’ll drive you home. The trip is a bit of a surprise so just go with the flow. Okay? I have it covered, but I have some prep work to do, too.”

I nodded to accept his edict.

Josh and I went down to the garage and got into his Porsche. A few minutes later he’d negotiated the backstreets of Boston and delivered me to my door with the promise to be back at noon to take me to the airport. He told me to expect lunch on the plane.

I thought it odd that he told me to bring whatever I thought I’d need including bulky winter coats. He said it’d all go fine on the plane one way or the other and that he’d help me carry it all.

Chapter 4 - N1BF

I had a pile of luggage on the door stoop at noon and Josh double-parked as we loaded it all into the back of the Porsche. I ended up with my bulky coat on my lap. I wondered how it would fit in the overhead compartment on the plane. Today's morning temperature in Aspen was forecast to be about twenty degrees.

As we pulled away from my apartment, I noted that Josh headed in the opposite direction from Boston’s Logan Airport.

“What gives? Where are you taking me?” I asked.

Josh smiled and said, “Remember, just go with the flow. You’ll like it. I promise. I am not abducting you, except in the nicest of ways.”

I relaxed and enjoyed Josh’s skills at negotiating the expensive and fast car onto Storrow Drive and then out Route 2. Eventually I figured out we were going to the airport in Bedford, Massachusetts. I thought of it as a general aviation airport with a few specialized flights from time to time. The field used to be a military base and then a shared use facility.

Josh wheeled into the general aviation side of the field, pulling up in front of a large electric gate and pushing a button on the car’s visor to have the gate open for us. This was special somehow. As we drove through we passed row upon row of single-engine private planes.

Josh then turned abruptly and pulled up next to a sleek corporate jet. I noticed the tail number on the jet was N1BF.

I looked at Josh full of questions.

“My plane,” he explained tersely. My mouth fell open again. My ‘boyfriend’ owned a corporate jet! Oh, my God. He was even richer than I thought when I saw his apartment.

Josh saw my look of awe and added, “Actually the plane belongs to the foundation, that’s why the ‘BF’ is part of the tail number. It stands for Bannock Foundation. Officially, I get to use it for any reason as a perk.”

As I walked around the sleek jet, a lineman carried our luggage from the car and into the plane. Josh asked him to put the car in the hanger and the man drove carefully away towards the huge vacant hanger that had apparently housed the jet until sometime this morning.

“Who’s going to fly this,” I asked since there was no one else around.

“I am,” Josh said with a widening smile. He produced a small high-intensity flashlight, and then walked around the plane, even getting under the wings and looking up at the landing gear. I stood and watched.

He said, “Normally, this requires two pilots, but I had the instruments rejigged in the plane so it qualifies as single-pilot crew.”

After a circuit around the plane, he gestured to the stairway, “Come on, let’s get in and get going.”

Josh helped me up the stairs and into the posh jet. I started to head towards the passenger seats in the rear but Josh pulled my arm.

“Come and sit up front with me. You’ll be my co-pilot today. Take the right-hand seat and don’t touch anything.” Josh emphasized the last three words and I got the message loud and clear. He turned and secured the door to the plane after the stairs folded away automatically.

I think my jaw was hanging open again. He could fly jets.

“I don’t know … you don’t expect … are you sure …” I started blabbering and then put my hand over my mouth so that I shut up. I maneuvered into the co-pilot’s seat.

Josh waved his hand at the plane. “This is a Cessna Citation Ultra. It was built in 2003 and I’ve owned it since 2014. The engines are almost new. We will cruise at about 40,000 feet and go directly from here to Aspen, Colorado - a distance of 1,640 nautical miles. The flight will take about four hours and three minutes at a speed of 456 knots, give or take a little for winds at altitude. The winds are pretty good actually. I’ve planned the flight and put our flight plan on file.”

He helped me attach the co-pilot’s five-point harness and adjust the seat. He also showed me the quick-donning oxygen mask and a few of the other safety features about the plane. He explained that the plane had a small ‘head’ if I needed relief as well as a small galley that had been stocked with sandwiches, soft drinks and coffee for our flight.

With that, Josh finished attending to his own seat and starting touching dials and levers. Almost immediately the entire instrument panel before me lit up and a minute later I heard an engine spool up behind us and then another one. Three LED displays appeared. Josh put a headset on and apparently was listening to something on the radio.

He handed me a lightweight headset and said, “Here, put this on. You’ll be able to talk to me better as well as hear both sides of my conversations with air traffic control - just don’t talk while they are, okay?” I nodded still awed by all going on around me. This was way beyond super-cool.

Josh adjusted the frequencies on one of the radios and I heard him say through my headset, “Bedford Clearance, November One Bravo Foxtrot at Hanger Two, ready for our clearance to Aspen, Colorado - Alpha Sierra Echo.”

After thirty seconds the radio sparked to life, “November One Bravo Foxtrot, you are cleared to Alpha Sierra Echo as filed. After takeoff climb and maintain runway heading to four thousand, expect ten-thousand ten-minutes after. Contact ground on one-two-one point seven when ready to taxi.”

Josh repeated the clearance instructions back. He touched one of the radios, changing frequencies and then I heard him tell Hanscom ground control that he was ready to taxi.

The tower responded immediately, “November One Bravo Foxtrot cleared to taxi to runway two-niner. Contact tower on one-one-eight-point-five when ready for takeoff." Josh touched another button and the plane started to read off a checklist to him. He touched each of the items as the plane ‘spoke’.

With great excitement the engines got louder and the large aircraft started to move. I had a smile from ear to ear and so did Josh. I noticed the lineman outside the plane waving with two batons as we turned and left the hanger area. I waved a little ‘thank you’ to the guy. He saluted me with the batons.

We rolled slowly down one of the taxiways. Josh explained that he had checklists for everything and that we’d spend a minute at the end of the runway going through the pre-takeoff checklist then let the tower know we were ready for departure. He said the automated checklist the plane used was adequate but that the lists he used had a few more items on them.

At the end of the runway, Josh parked the plane and pulled out a laminated card. He vocalized each checklist item as he went through it, often pointing to an instrument or lever around him to confirm its setting. After two minutes with the checklist and setting some information in some of the instruments I heard his voice on the headset again, “Bedford Tower, November One Bravo Foxtrot is ready for takeoff.”

The radio again came to life, “November One Bravo Foxtrot, hold short of two-niner.” Josh acknowledged the contact. In another minute the radio came to life again; November One Bravo Foxtrot cleared for takeoff; runway heading to four thousand.”

The plane turned slowly out of the run-up area and made a ninety-degree turn onto the runway. When the plane was right on the centerline, Josh pushed the throttles forward and I could hear the two jet engines wind up behind us. Then suddenly we were hurtling down the runway and just as suddenly he rotated the plane’s nose into the air and we were airborne.

Josh’s hands flew around the cockpit for a few seconds and I heard a communication from the tower, “One Bravo Foxtrot, contact departure on one-two-one-point-four, good day.” Josh repeated the instruction and bid Hanscom Field goodbye.

He contacted Departure and they cleared him direct to Aspen and up to seventeen thousand feet just like that. We rose rapidly and I watched the earth slip away beneath us. As we approached seventeen thousand feet (Josh showed me how to read the altimeter), Departure Control handed us off to Boston Center. Center immediately cleared us to flight level four-zero-zero - O. M. G., about eight miles above the earth. The radios then got amazingly silent as we finished our climb to altitude.

I’d been remarkably silent through the entire takeoff and climb. Now I finally told Josh, “So, I am unbelievably impressed by all this. I bet you’re trying to get into my pants.” I grinned at him.

He grinned back and said, “Nope. Been there; done that.” We both laughed.

“So, can we talk now?”

“Not until you open up the door to galley and get our two box lunches and a diet coke for me and whatever you want to drink.” I unbuckled and pushed my seat back and made my way to the galley area and served the captain his lunch. The deli sandwiches were superb.

As we were near altitude Josh nodded and pointed outside my window. A couple of thousand feet below us a United Airlines passenger jet swept by on a path perpendicular to ours but a couple of thousand feet lower. I grinned again. This was so fucking cool. I sure hope I could tell lots of people what a ’temporary girlfriend’ got to do.

We sat and ate. I collected the trash on my side of the cockpit, and eventually took it to the back when we were through. I got us new drinks. As I sat, I said, “I asked about your philosophy on life, love and happiness, or something like that. We got sidetracked and I’d still like to hear it.”

“Tall order,” he said. “I have thought about it when you weren’t otherwise distracting me - which has become most of the time in a very nice way. Let me talk about it - unless I have to talk to ATC - and then you can ask questions.”

I nodded.

Josh began, “Okay, first about family. I think my family is important - I feel close to my brother and sisters and we all talk at least once a week - sometimes three or four times a week, so they must feel that way too. A lot of our talk is about the foundation but we are open about how we feel about each other and I feel we are supportive. There are no hidden feelings, although I feel guilty for hiding my social status from you at first. Also, if I think Van, my brother, is being a dork I tell him and vice versa. That, by the way, is why they’re all riding me so hard about being my age without a serious girlfriend. We’re open about feelings and issue raising.”

The headphones squawked and a voice said, “Citation One Bravo Foxtrot, contact Cleveland Center on one-three-two-decimal-two-five, good day.”

Josh’s voice immediately answered, “Over to Cleveland for Bravo Foxtrot, Good day Boston.” I watched Josh push a button and heard his voice again; “Cleveland, Citation One Bravo Foxtrot with you at flight level four-zero-zero.” ATC responded and the radio went quiet again.

Josh picked up the thread of his comments about life; “I guess I should preface all of this by saying that I think you have to like yourself first. If you don’t like who you are, fundamentally, I don’t think you can have good relationships with anyone. I don’t mean you have to be narcissistic, but you do have to believe that you’re fundamentally okay.”

He went on, “As far as relationships, I’m jaded by what I’ve seen around me and how I think things should work. Divorce rates and break-ups seem to be the norm, at least for a lot of people. The way we conceive of marriage or man-woman relationships just doesn’t work. I think I might know why, but it’ll be a reach for you I’m sure.”

“Try me,” I said.

“Well, we’ve been programmed to be monogamous - only couples allowed. I think that’s an artificial rule someone five thousand years ago thought up to control the abuse of women or to stabilize a tribe or something. The idea is outmoded today.”

“Why is it outmoded?” I asked, curious about where this was going.

“Well, how many people could you love at once?” Josh asked.

“No fair,” I replied, “there are different kinds of love - parent, child, family, friend, lover, just to toss out a few.”

“No, stick with ‘lover’ because that’s where the kind of relationships we’re talking about happen. The rest are nice - even necessary, but how many people could you love?”

I thought for a minute and said, “In theory I could have several lovers at the same time. Whether I’d want to or could handle all the interactions is debatable.”

Josh said, “Just assume you could. You could have a serious relationship with more than one person - two, three, possibly four before you got stressed out. So why would you do this? What would you get from the other people that you don’t get from your ‘one’?”

I responded, “I’m assuming we love each other and that they’d be different people. Our interactions would be different. They’d see the world differently from each other. They’d each like different things and come at problems differently. Some would like some things the others didn’t and vice versa. They’d have different hobbies.”

“So, if you are going to grow, evolve and personally develop there might be some significant advantage to being in love with more than one person?”

I nodded slowly agreeing with his thesis.

“Now, I toss this in for free, do all the people that you love have to be men?”

“No, definitely not,” I replied. I’d been caught in that trap before.

“Sexual relationships?” he asked.

“In your philosophy it would be ‘whatever works’, right? Men or women.”

Josh nodded and asked, “Have you?”

I nodded. “In college. It was more an experiment that any type of flaming love affair, although we both learned and grew as a result. I’ve heard other people call it being a LUG.” Josh looked puzzled; I explained, “Lesbian until graduation,” I explained. He laughed.

“Did you date?”

“Oh, I was Miss Social Butterfly in high school and college. I got more serious in graduate school. Except for one college roommate more than a few times, I am pure heterosexual and so is she. My dalliance with her let me postpone having a serious boy-girl relationship at the time.” I paused and added, “Go back to your philosophy.”

There was more to my past, but I wasn’t about to lay that out just yet. I needed some other situation than this one to ‘tell all’.

Josh thought for moment as he adjusted a few controls on the jet. He went on, “I like the idea of polyamory - a loving group of people that have negotiated their intimate life together. Their sensitive to the currencies they ‘pay’ each other with. You can’t be jealous; that’s a learned emotion anyway. You can’t ‘own’ another person; you deal with others in adult-adult relationships. There’s no mandated exclusivity. You have to start on that premise and then you can build a relationship or family of relationships.”

He went on, “Everyone is committed to everyone else’s joy and growth. Every day you look out for the others and ask yourself how can I love this person today … and this person … and this person? You do things to keep the magic in the whole extended family. You take pleasure in watching the others you love being pleasured. And if there’s conflict your first thought is how can we create a ‘win’ for both of us?

The radio squawked, “Citation One Bravo Foxtrot contact Chicago Center on one-three-two-decimal-five.” Josh acknowledged the handoff and called into the new air traffic control center.

Josh reached across the cockpit and took my hand. He brought it to his mouth and kissed my palm and closed my fingers around it then set my hand back in my lap. I know I blushed at his tender gesture.

He said, “Let’s talk about religion and spirituality, because to me they’re part of my life philosophy. We touched briefly on them at dinner - or was it coffee? Anyway, I was raised in what I call middle protestant, went to Sunday school and did the whole church school thing. In the end I tossed out most of what I learned.”

“Why’s that?” I asked. “What takes its place?”

“Well those lessons all taught me about a God that was ‘out there’ - outside me and outside everyone. That God had a touchy personality too. He - and I mean ‘He’ - could be vengeful or ‘He’ could decide whether or not to answer your prayers. Pretty arbitrary, and a touch sexist. You’d better be good or else! Also sounds like Santa Claus.”

“What about Jesus and the Holy Trinity?” I asked.

“There’s a growing body of evidence that Jesus as he is taught to us in our churches is the largest and most accepted fictional masterpiece of all time. There were at least sixteen other similar people or myths before him that had the same characteristics that we attribute to ‘the man,’ for instance, the immaculate conception and virgin birth, wise men, born in a stable, miracles and healing, crucifixion and rising from the dead. His history appears to be fabricated, most likely at the Council of Nicaea in the year 325. We know the Trinity was created then as well in a purely political move by Rome to garner the support of the eastern orthodox churches. By the way, some of the other deities that came before Jesus include Odin, Osiris, Buddha, and Krishna. There’s a longer list. Further, there’s evidence that at the time of the biblical Jesus there were several other men named Jesus that had the same powers - healing, ability to preach to the crowds about the true nature of man, and so on. An increasing number believe the stories of Jesus in the Bible actually refer to multiple people. So in a nutshell, I became a skeptic.”