The Driver

Conrad's voice echoed in her head, "No, you need to lick more, suck my balls before you suck on my cock." Or, "thrust your cunt back onto my cock, make me believe you desperately want all of me. I know the men will be wearing rubbers but beg them to cum inside you unless they want to cum on your face or on your tits. Then beg them to do that. Let me hear you say it, say it with eagerness, 'Cum on my face,'" he'd told her. She felt like crying as she drifted off to sleep.

At 8 AM she was standing in her white whore dress getting looks from everyone there. She felt relief seeing the stretch limo pull up. The driver trotted around and she noticed something familiar about him when Conrad climbed out, a huge grin on his face. She wanted to study the driver but her boss pulled her into the limo and she forgot all about the other man. On the other hand, he'd been their driver all week, of course, there was something familiar about him.

"We need to celebrate. The group from New York called, thrilled about joining our firm. You'll be happy to know the partners called a meeting at 9 AM. It looks like a sure thing they'll be offering you a partnership in the firm."

Stacy gasped, "What? I thought you said 'in five years,'"

Conrad patted her leg. "This week was a test. Marilyn will never ask you to go down on her again, the crew from New York will be treating you with professionalism from now on. It will be as if none of this ever happened. Edward, Jonathon, and Walter all doubted your commitment to the firm and you passed with flying colors," he smiled.

Stacy groaned, "It was all lies? All a sham?" she asked. "Did you really?" she looked at the driver then mimed sucking cock.

Conrad nodded, "It was part of my test. I'm not going to go into details for the rest of the week. I did that and more. I understand how you must feel, but our firm need...demands total commitment." He got out as they'd arrived.

Jim's head was spinning as he pulled away. His wife did all that as a test? Just to be a partner? Then he thought about the increase in salary along with the bonuses. Would he do anything like that? he wondered.

That evening at 6 PM, Stacy came out alone. She was wearing the linen suit from two days ago. He held the door and as usual, his wife just glanced at him before climbing in. Maybe it was the sunglasses, maybe because he was 'the help,' maybe it was the all-black suit be he felt invisible. He trotted around to the front, got in, and looked back.

"Mr. Marshall is not coming?" he asked.

Stacy shook her head and gave Conrad's address. She looked at those eyes as the driver pulled into traffic. She felt a surge of pride realizing she made it. She made partner. She had to tell someone and thought about calling Jim. The problem was, she was supposed to be on a plane landing in an hour so how could she call? She looked at the driver and sighed, "You must think the worst of me," she said as she wondered why she'd even care what the help thought of her.

"Ma'am?" Jim asked in his Bostonian accent.

"I mean, you must think I'm a total skank," she said thinking that might be the first time she'd used that word.

"No ma'am. I see a beautiful woman who is ambitious and wants to get ahead in a man's world."

Stacy tried not to cry but felt tears welling up. "Someone who will whore themselves out."

Jim laughed, "We all whore ourselves out, some more than others. We take pay to give people what they need. I'm doing it now. It's not for me to judge."

Stacy laughed, "Oh, you can judge. If you aren't you're not human."

"I know you're a lawyer and probably have heard this but you know the difference between a lawyer and a prostitute?" he asked.

Stacy groaned, "Yeah, a prostitute will stop fucking you when you're dead."

Jim shook his head, I've heard that but I was thinking, a prostitute has you pay upfront before you fuck her, but a lawyer sends you the bill after he fucks you."

Stacy laughed, "Wow! A lawyer joke I'd not heard. I need to tell my husband that," she sighed. "He loves telling me lawyer jokes."

Jim pulled off into the drive, this time having to press the intercom button. The gate opened and he pulled around next to the blue Mercedes. Before trotting around he took off the hat and sunglasses.

Stacy was looking at the car and thinking about what she needed to pack when she glanced at the driver doing a double-take. "Jim! Oh, fuck!" she cried. She could see the butler looking on but didn't care. She felt like running wondering why her husband was driving the limo, wondering if it was him all week, knowing it was him all week. Thousands of images, thousands of words flew through he head as she stepped back in horror.

Jim pulled his wife into a hug. "It's ok. You know why I married a lawyer? My last girlfriend wanted to save herself, and by marrying a lawyer I knew I was going to get screwed," he smiled as he stroked her back. He looked at Conrad's help standing by the door and shook his head sending them back inside.

Stacy cried softly on his shoulder when she wondered why he'd been driving the limo. She looked at him and at the car, "Wait. Why?"

Jim sighed and led his wife into the back of the limo. They sat and looked at each other. "I got laid off. They did a series of questionable investments and, well I was part of the 30% force reduction. Dave found me a job while I was looking for another management position driving the limo," he said. "I got a call last week. They want me back at, ironically, a 30% raise," he said. "They were bought out and it looks like the new upper management knows what they are doing."

Stacy looked around. "You never told me? Why not? I'm your wife," she said.

"Like you are just getting back from New York?" he asked. "Never mind. Remember when I didn't get the expected bonus? You were so pissed, I had to sleep in the guest bedroom. I thought my getting laid off would land me in the garage."

Stacy stroked her husband's face, "Damn! I am so sorry. I was so excited we'd have the opportunity to live at...never mind. I overreacted." She again looked around at how clean everything was, how every bottle lined up, how there wasn't a speck of dust or lint anywhere. She looked in horror at the carpet where Conrad's cum flowed out of her and gasped. "You had to clean up..." she put her head in her hands.

"You weren't the first. I like this job but those are the parts I don't like," he said softly. He held his wife feeling anger towards the firm not toward her. They made it an either/or proposition. She remains an associate or she whores herself out. "Like, there are parts of your job you don't like...didn't like doing. Ask yourself this, and leave the money out of it. Money should never be a factor when thinking of job satisfaction. Do the good aspects outweigh the bad?"

Stacy wanted to start with, 'I'll be making over $250,000 a year,' but thought about it and nodded. "I love the law. I love getting through...you know, some of these laws are written in such a way to hide the true ramifications. I feel like a mouse in a maze trying to find the cheese. I love exposing the kernels and making the most for my clients," she said with enthusiasm. "This week I questioned whether it was worth it, but as a partner that should be behind me...us, if you'll still have me."

Jim laughed, "I feel a bit screwed over. Your birthday is coming up and I was going to send you to whore school and now I'll have to find another gift."

Stacy slapped him. "You know I signed NDAs and cannot share what I learned, even with my husband."

Jim tickled his wife who screamed and squirmed. "I have ways," he said in his Boston accent.

The butler periodically glanced out at the car seeing a very subtle rocking wondering if they'd be gone by the time Mr. Marshall returned.

Stacy was first home as Jim had to take the limo back and get it gassed up and cleaned. He arrived a bit past 10 PM, Stacy waiting with a glass of scotch for him.

She kissed him and sighed, "I know you're hurt. You'll never look at me the same way, but know that I love you."

Jim nodded, "I know. Sorry to lie about my job. I'll call them Monday and tell them I'm coming back."

Stacy shook her head. "No, ask yourself. We're you happier there, or are you happier now?"

Jim didn't even think about it, "I'm 100 times happier now. I know it's not as much as I was making or will be making if I go back, but I love the people, love driving them around."

Stacy nodded. "I was wondering why you were so much more upbeat, more loving," she said. "Your limo was the cleanest, best maintained of any I've been in. I mean it. Every morning I looked...sorry to remind you of what I looked for, but it was as if we were never there." She stroked his face, "you need to do what you love. I'm making enough money so we can live comfortably."

Jim looked surprised, "you hate my middle-class friends, hate the lowly status of the help," he said.

"You approve of your upper-class whore?" she asked ruefully. "Who am I to judge. I need to expand my horizons anyhow. We are expected to do pro bono work so I'll have to learn how to slum it. Say, invite your friends over for poker. You'll need someone to get drinks and hor d'oeuvres."

"Jim shook his head, "my friends couldn't even pronounce that. Could you fetch snacks? Do you still have those dresses? The seafoam green one was the best."