Temporary Boyfriend Ch. 01

"Yes, sir."

"Good. Here's you starter kit for the new batch." He slid ten 'red' folders across his desk to me. Inwardly, I groaned. A normal vetting for a senior position in some company, unless there were problems, took about four hours. I knew that I could expect about fifteen or twenty of those a week. The cases Harrison had just given me were likely to require eight or even more hours to work up a dossier on each candidate -- and that was unless they were really hiding something that we sniffed out somehow.

I told Taylor about my meeting when I went back downstairs. She volunteered to do all the initial screenings just to see what could be found about each person. Finding nothing might be as bad as finding something really juicy -- illegal, immoral, or fattening, as she liked to say. I went to work on the open cases that I had in progress just to close out those candidates.

Taylor's volunteering to actually do some screening surprised me. She was smart, and I remembered from her CV that she'd graduated cum laude from Wellesley. Why she was content in a job in a modest investigative company that vetted executives for other companies mystified me. The company also did routine P.I. work. She had mentioned one time that she wouldn't have minded becoming of P.I.

Taylor was about five-foot-five, and on the thin side. She tended to wear maxi- or midi-skirts and tops with shawls or an outer jacket that de-emphasized her breasts and even her body, although I knew she had to have some content under all her layers of clothing somewhere. She had a pleasant face, but her dark rim glasses were not attractive.

I knew from an occasional chat that she was a movie buff. I think she saw every film that came to any of the local theaters. She'd sometimes comment about multiple movies that she'd seen over a weekend or even the night before. I was sure she saw about five or six feature-length films a week. For me, that was a lot.

I had an idea that I wanted to test with somebody that knew something about artificial intelligence. That person turned out to be Dr. Morris Turner at Harvard. I took the MBTA out there the next afternoon to consult with him. He'd graciously decided to meet with me. He had some great ideas, but I'd have to up my game in the computer area in order to make it work. He was very helpful, glad to help and do something practical for someone, and I set about 'upping' my game.

On the way back to the office, I chatted up a pretty co-ed-looking girl on the red line train. Before I had to change over to the green line to get to work, I had a date with her for Friday. This was a real long-shot but she was really gorgeous and shapely. I couldn't even be sure that she gave me her right name, address, or phone, but verifying that kind of stuff is what I do. I checked her out that afternoon in our many data bases, and at least she wasn't spoofing me. I guess that I like challenges. Her name was Anastasia, and given our only contact was about twelve minutes, I thought she was a long shot to get in my bed on one date -- and hopefully a full weekend.

I shouldn't have worried.

By one a.m. Saturday morning, when we finally stopped fucking for the night, I'd dumped three major loads of cum into Anastasia and she'd agreed to stay for the weekend so we could continue our fuck fest. She did want to run back to her apartment for a couple of books. She insisted on some study time between our romps in my bed. She was a dedicated student at Harvard. She also was a nudist, at least when in my apartment. I needed the recovery time, so things worked out for both of us.

Monday, Taylor broke up laughing at me when I showed up at work. She had gotten so she could read me like an open book.

She asked, "What was this one's name? Care to share?"

I admitted, "Anastasia. Student at Harvard."

She got a smug look on her face. Glad to see you're upping the intellectual level of your dates. I've been worried now and then that you only went after sex-crazed bimbos."

I rolled my eyes. I had to be careful what I said. I didn't want to create an 'incident' with her. Taylor was about as far from a 'sex-crazed bimbo' as you could get.

We plowed through the week. Taylor surprised me with some good detective work on two of our 'red folder' job candidates. I took over and went deeper into our elaborate data base files and the Internet to delve deeper into their lives. I put one of our P.I.s on one man. It's what we do. The guy was up for job paying a base of two-million per annum.

Wednesday afternoon, Taylor asked for five minutes of my time. I assured her that I was ready for her any time. She looked nervous, and I sensed she was having some kind of problem outside of work. I wondered if it could be man issues of some kind, but to my knowledge she never dated either men or women.

Thus, at five-thirty, Taylor came and stood beside my desk. She looked tense and I was really puzzled. We had a great rapport and I thought we could talk about anything with each other.

I gestured for her to speak. I hoped I hadn't created some kind of wall between us. I knew she was a real gem. I worried that she was about to move on, or that having a player like me to work for had finally tripped her 'off' button.

Taylor said, "I know you're always busy outside of work, especially on weekends, and that you date a lot, and that most of those dates are ... romantic. I also acknowledge that I am a very plain and simple girl that doesn't have a lot of appeal or sexuality to her image.

"That said, I am hoping that you'll spend Thanksgiving weekend with me. That's four weeks from now, and I desperately need you to help me. You're my only hope to help me save face with my family. I need a boyfriend -- a temporary boyfriend."