BABY GIGOLO.

Andropause.

With her husband gone to work, and the girls off to college, Amanda went to the kitchen, located on the ground floor to get a glass of water. She descended the stairs, and on the last step she stopped with her hand resting lightly on the handrail. She faced the majestic entrance with its round mahogany table in the center, and on it, in a delicate handcrafted crystal vase stood a magnificent bouquet of fresh flowers.

As she approached it she found, lying next to it her favorite dark chocolate and a note in her husband's cursive handwriting apologizing for yesterday with a smiley face neatly sketched next to the note. Amanda has received numerous notes, similar to this one in the past, and it has never failed to make her smile. This time it left her cold, because she knew the reason for it, and it filled her with disgust.

A bouquet of flowers, beautifully arranged and exquisitely packaged is a feast for the senses. When a woman receives such a gift which is presumably a declaration of a man's love, she would close her eyes, clutch the flowers to her heart, inhale deeply and allow its aroma to fill her with gratitude while at the same time acknowledging the gift. And in the spirit in which it was given, she would return the sentiment with an excellent dinner followed by a wild night between the sheets.

Amanda bent down and took a deep breath of the floral scents, and the only thing she smelled was her husband's guilt. She smelled his illicit affair and his mistress' cheap perfume; she smelled the whore of a woman who thought nothing of carrying on with a married man. She smelled her husband's desperation at trying to hold onto his youth while nullifying years of marriage while acting like a common mongrel.

Chocolate has the ability, when placed on the tongue to melt and it's not only the substance that melts, but one's heart too. It softens the hard edges and melts into forgiveness. It breaks down walls and allows the perpetrator to enter once again. We forgive them their faults, because of the age old adage on which they depend and which they know will lead to forgiveness is that - nobody is perfect.

The best way to fully enjoy the taste and aroma of eating chocolate is to close one's eyes and allow oneself to be carried away on the tide of love. That act - that single act of closing one's eyes, makes one not see them for who and what they truly are, and because of that they get away with it every time.

Slowly and mechanically Amanda removed the outside wrapping, stripped away a corner of the tin foil, broke off a corner piece and placed it in her mouth and closed her eyes. Instead of tasing euphoria, she savored the sweet taste of revenge. A thin smile spread over her voluptuous lips and she suddenly knew what she had to do. She went into the kitchen, had a glass of water, made herself an excellent and satisfying breakfast, and on a full stomach she phoned a well-recommended PI and made an appointment for the afternoon.

One would be surprised how clear one thinks on a full stomach.

During the interview she instructed the firm to place spy cameras in her husband's as well as his secretary's offices as well as in every room of their cabin by the lake. She had a feeling that that was where his 'out of town' business meetings were conducted.

~•~

Jack, in his youth, was a handsome young fellow, and despite his advancing years he was still attractive, but in a mature sort of way. That was not good enough for him. Whenever he looked in the mirror, the only thing he saw was a middle-aged man whom Time and the ravages of the passing years had robbed of that which he had taken for granted - his good looks. It is enough to strike terror into the heart of any vain man and the fact that there was very little he could do to stem the tide left him with impotent rage.

The graying temples, the crow's feet around his eyes, the lines on his forehead, and above all, the growing pot-belly made him sick to his stomach. This last one is the death-nail in the coffin of any man who still considered himself up to the mark. Gone was his six-pack and his shirt, stretching over his growing stomach filled him with horror. Jack knew that he had to fight back and fight back hard to stop the rot of old age, but deep down he knew that no matter how hard he tried Mother Nature shall have the last say. He was determined not to give up without a fight.

He took out membership at one of the more exclusive gym's and engaged the services of a personal trainer. On entering the facility, he soon discovered that there were two types of members; the young, buffed and beautiful, and the aging and desperate, of which group he was one. Six months later he gave it up telling himself that balancing a stressful job, a rigid gym routine, family life and a demanding social life was too hard, and that he would rather concentrate on eating healthy.

He researched and followed the latest diet fad which lasted for a few months. His excuse was that his constant rounds of business lunches and dinner parties wreaked havoc with his eating plan. With bitterness he fell back into his old routine, but his desire to hold onto his youth and sow one last bushel of wild oats never left his thoughts.

~•~

Like most men in positions of power they appoint, not necessarily the brightest and most efficient young lady as their personal assistant, but the most beautiful. Jack was no different. With his growing dissatisfaction with his life, he suddenly noticed his assistant's presence.

Someone should have told him to keep his eyes to himself, and that he can't have his cake and eat it too. Sadly that was the lesson he was about to learn the hard way. He was about to pursue the impossible and turn his life into a cliché and in the end the only question that remained for him to answer was; was it worth it?

When Jane realized that her boss was looking at her differently, she stepped up her game. Jane's legs appeared, by virtue of her stilettos and miniskirts longer than they actually were. They were well modeled, unblemished and cellulite free, and when she walked she swayed her narrow hips provocatively. She only wore satin blouses, and her perky breasts straining against its tight fit, outlined their freshness to maximum perfection. Her facial features were remarkably ordinary, but what gave it animation was her full head of waist length blond hair. It flowed, swayed and cascaded with a life of its own which seemed septate from its mistress. Jane took good care of it because it was her most redeeming asset. Women envied her for it and men complimented her without end, and her boyfriend was fond of playing with it during and after a night of passionate intimacy.

"How about dinner tonight. Are you free?" Jack asked her one afternoon after they had worked late on a project. "It's my way of saying 'thank you' for all the long hours I have made you work."

"You don't have to. Really. It's my job and I'm glad that you are satisfied with my performance. I like working for you. And besides, it's not secretary day."

"Nonsense. Everyday should be secretary day, and there's no better day to start than today. What do you say?"

"If you put it like that, Mr. Black," she giggled, "then no, I have no plans for tonight. I will be happy to join you for dinner."

"If we are going to see more of each other after work then you might as well call me Jack."

"Ok, Jack," she replied. "Allow me to make one phone call and then I'll be ready."

She texted her boyfriend that she was working later than usual and that he should not wait up for her. Jack sent his wife a similar message.

From the start, and by an unspoken mutual understanding, their relationship consisted of nothing but wild old animal sex. Jack tried to prove that he was still a young buck who could last for hours, and that he was capable of pleasing a woman on different levels. He pulled out all the stops and engaged all the tricks in his arsenal, but he soon realized that he was not as young and fit as he once was.

Jane certainly knew what she was doing. She tried to anticipate Jack's sexual needs and cater to it. There was not a thing she wouldn't do, nor a request from him that she did not fulfill - and then some. She was insatiable and appeared not to notice his belly, his shortness of breath, his profuse sweating and the fact that he was struggling to keep up. She made him feel that he was in great shape with the energy and stamina of a teenager and that could show a young man a thing or two. That was a year ago, and their escapades showed no signs of abating.

~•~

Back in the present day, the cameras started rolling, capturing their every act of indiscretion. As soon as there was an episode, the PI firm would, by Amanda's instructions, forward it to her inbox. After having watched the first incident, she downloaded the rest straight to a file named 'Jack' on her laptop. Her only consideration was to decide where and when to use it in a way that would cause the most pain and destroy his life completely.

~•~

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