I-5 at 3:00 southbound towards Seattle isn’t too bad if, that is, you know how to weave. The 520 bridge is a little slow, where the ‘85 Volvos mysteriously change into flashy Beamers and huge SUV’s. Bellevue is a little too upscale for my taste, I thought, driving past fancy car lots and designer clothes stores to pick my housemate up from work. Driving past the Catholic school, left at the Church and into the employee parking lot, I didn’t even know I was being followed.

I knock on the back door and Candy greeted me with a loving smile and a firm hug. Candy, now 53 was still as beautiful as she was when she was 23; a blonde coif, jewels everywhere, perfect lipstick and lovely large breasts. Once inside, I saw the same surroundings that had welcomed me so many times before. Quan Yin, in all of her statuesque glory, sat comfortably atop her alter. Fresh flowers nestled in her crown and over her shoulders, money, weed and other sacred gifts at her feet. She was pure white, save her rosy cheeks. I walked towards and paid my respects, emptying my pockets of change, a white stone with a golden inclusion I had been saving for her and then gingerly, I kissed her beautiful cheeks, deepening her blush. She is a Goddess, I thought, what a wonderful woman, the savior and protector of the women in this house.

A second knock came at the back door as I walked to the employee lounge. Candy’s voice tensed as she opened the door. “Can I help you?”

“Hello, I’m John.”

“Hello,” She softened slightly, morphing into a pleasant hostess. “Welcome, please come in.”

They walked past me, but before she started her usual first-timer speech, she noted. “For future reference, please use the front door.” The back door only had a tiny peek hole, where the front offered a larger view to weed out potential problem customers, or the occasional cop.

The lounge was far from opulent, wood panel walls, a coffee pot, small kitchen table, a few overstuffed chairs, a message board with work schedules and other notices on it. Bunny was the first to notice me come in. She was my age, 19, and as friendly as you could be. She smiled. “Hey Darlin! How the hell are you?”

Sherry and Ruby said were chatting and only briefly paused to say hello. Sage, dressed in a black sweatsuit that showed just a hint of her purple thong, was slumped over her computer. I snuck beside her and rested my head on her shoulder, “Whatcha doin’?”

“Hey Darlin! My baby, long time no see!” She wrapped her arms around me. She smelled amazing, a deep sensuous perfume. She had the effortless air of sophistication. In the other room Candy concluded her tour of the facilities with the John ending at the doorway where he could view his options. He appraised. Slabs of meat under a refrigerated sneeze guard, I always thought.

“How about her?” He asked Candy nodding my way.

I blushed and my stomach quivered, reeling from the thought of me being under this man, being pressed upon by an overweight, fifty-something with a come-over. But before I could explain-

“She’s taken.”

A low, powerful voice hit the air at the same time a firm hand reached my ass. I felt her arm wrap strongly across my neck from behind. Ivy vined her way to my neck, sweetly kissed me and whispered, “Isn’t that right, Darlin?”

I blushed deeper. I was taken in more ways than one. “That’s right, sorry baby, maybe next time.”

The John shrugged and asked for Bunny who hopped up, grabbed his hand, whispered into his ear and went to her station. No one liked to be picked second in a line up, but I wasn’t for sale. I was just a chauffeur. A chauffeur for a goddess wrapped in skin.

Ivy was the most breathtaking woman I had ever met. I loved her. I wanted to know every inch of her skin. She wasn’t just sexy, she was sex. She drove me to distraction. Ivy was tall and sinewy. She practiced yoga religiously in our living room, where I’d flail in an uncoordinated fashion, but mostly watched her muscles undulate obediently and gracefully. Her breasts her perfect. Just where, if there was a god, they were meant to be. She had pixie hair that was growing out after she shaved her head a few months earlier to relinquish her body of vanity. For the first month after that, Candy had instructed her to wear a wig of blonde curls when she gave services. She hated every minute of it.

I hadn’t met Ivy in this context. I had had met her in a slightly less glamorous way; the way all friends meet. Though our drug dealer. I’ll never forget that day. It was a day that would change my life forever.