Power Chapter 35: Joining the NBA - Sex Stories

Power Chapter 35: Joining the NBA

... its other offices and soon Jay was turning down everything over twelve hours a week. He got college credit for the writing, of course. When he started charging fixed prices he was clearing $5,000 a month. By the fourth week the website had an average of 3,150 hours a week of billed work for local businesses and their more distant offices. After overhead we were netting more than $50,000 a week just from the NBA. I absently asked Drew one day why other colleges didn’t do this. I knew the look that crossed his face: “Holy shit, there’s money to be had at that.” We grew at a phenomenal rate. We rented an unused storage building on campus. Gerbils used it to meet with clients. There was a receptionist gerbil area. The rest of the building was evenly divided into two rooms. They were labeled “Naked” and “Afraid.” Naked gerbils met with clients in one room. The other was reserved for the prudes. Nate identified a potential problem and, as usual, had an artful solution. He wrote the script and directed the play. He recruited a comely female senior English major who would graduate shortly and didn’t give a shit. She played the lead. A sophomore computer programmer played the supporting role. One of the Dean’s poker buddies played the customer. The woman met the “client” in the Naked room, something about a writing job. She started by letting her fingers wander over her vulva, ...

... then into her canal, then getting more animated. She toyed with her breasts. “So, Mr. Smith (yeah, not very inventive), you want your readers to be aroused to action by my writing. You know, your $45 an hour can buy a lot more arousal, and not just for your readers.” She unzipped his pants and pulled out his dipstick. The Dean’s poker buddy owed him one. “So, for $45 an hour I can do a lot more than just write,” the English major said. She then added, “If you want a boy and a girl that’s only $45 an hour for each of us.” On cue the programmer jumped up and told her to get out. “You’re a fucking whore,” he said. (Honest, Nate did get better with his dialog later). “Get out. “Sir, Mr. Smith, I apologize. Yes, we are the NBA, the Naked Business Advisors. No, we don’t fuck for money.” The story spread quickly. Everybody got the message. It was okay to work naked. It wasn’t okay to offer sex for money. Why do that when everybody else was giving it away for free, anyway? In the middle of the second semester disaster struck. Marcy was rushed to the hospital after collapsing in the office from overwork. I had no idea. Neither she nor Nate had said anything, and Drew was pretty oblivious to his surroundings. Janice had noticed and tried to tell Drew, but, again, it was the oblivious thing. Without Marcy we were dead in the water. Her brother actually bailed us out on that one.