The Harem Read Free

sexuality. It was worth a try, to break me out of this funk.
    I met confidentially with a lawyer and told him what I planned to do. After he raised his eyebrows somewhat disapprovingly, he wrote up a simple contract to have the participants sign before joining the Harem, to protect me from being sued. Also the women could read the contract, to see if the Harem idea would suit them, before trying it out. The only real rule on the contract was that I wanted them to wear sexy lingerie around the house. We could just be friends, or if they were attracted to me, lovers. If they were into B and D, we could play some sexy games. They could come and go from the Harem whenever they liked.
    God. Now that I’ve written this down on paper, I must sound like a real pervert. I suppose I am. Go ahead. Lock me up in a mental asylum and throw away the key. Anyway, for better or worse, this is exactly what happened.
    I worked out heavily for a couple of weeks, running on the treadmill, doing push-ups, sit-ups and lifting weights. I had to get myself into the best shape of my life if my plan had any chance of working. After all, who wants to be involved with an overweight gigolo? I started dropping the pounds. When I was feeling better about myself physically, I set my plans in action.
    On a Google search I found this website called Adult Friend Finder, which seemed to be just what I was looking for. I posted a message on it that I was looking for unmarried women between the ages of 24-34 who were searching for non-exclusive alternative relationships and uploaded a picture of myself. I was surprised when I got a few immediate responses. After chatting back and forth by email, I was able to set up a few discrete meetings at the Starbucks at Wintergreen Plaza on Rockville Pike. I thought it was a rather safe location to meet, in order to offset the general sleaziness of what I was proposing. But the first two women never showed up for their appointment. I emailed them, but they never responded again. I think they liked the idea of flirting over the internet, but felt afraid of actually meeting me. As they say, the third time was the charm and Cynthia came into my life. I hadn’t uttered a word to another living soul for over three months until I met her at Starbucks today. But if I wasn’t paying attention, she would’ve slipped out the door before we even had a chance to talk.

Chapter Three
    Cynthia
    So after exchanging a few emails with Jeremy, he asked to meet me at this Starbucks on Rockville Pike. I almost said no, but it had been six months since Flaccid Bastard crushed my heart and I thought what the hell, I might as well go try to meet someone new. Jeremy didn’t seem like a serial killer, at least from the emails. As I entered Starbucks I looked at all the people hunched over their laptops and smart phones. An extremely handsome and sharply dressed, older man made eye contact over his newspaper, looking at me inquisitively. This guy had the kind of thick brown hair you want to brush your fingers through, movie star looks and a body like Hugh Jackman in the Wolverine. It was painfully obvious to me that we weren’t in the same league. Embarrassed, I turned around to get the hell out of there.
    “Cynthia? Is that you?”
    I immediately liked his deep resonating voice and several coffee skanks much prettier than me must’ve liked it as well. I fully expected there to be a competition to see who would be the first to say, “I’m Cynthia!” The Starbuck sluts looked at Jeremy and sized each other up, pheromones raging, caffeinated claws out. I nearly shook my head no, but his eyes locked on me, freezing me in the doorway. The next thing I knew he was beside me, asking me what I wanted to drink, buying me a decaf. He stood so close I could smell his sexy cologne. I breathed in, but nearly forgot to breathe out.
    “Would you like a pastry, Cynthia?”
    The question deeply embarrassed me, though I’m sure it wasn’t his intention