Lucky

Peter had no idea what to do. Well, that wasn't exactly true. Brittany, before she had left the yoga studio and headed to her sister's for the night, had told Peter what to do. She had given him quite a few instructions. Explicit instructions. He just wasn't sure if he could go through with it.

It wasn't that Steve was a pervert of anything. He was, as Brittany had put it, just a man with a healthy sexual appetite. Brittany was his second wife, newly married, and they were still enjoying each other quite a bit. If Peter was going to be the woman of the house, as his task had named him, he was going to have to find a way to fulfill that part of the role as well.

For twenty minutes now Peter had sat in the driveway of Steve and Brittany's house, hatch of the Range Rover stuffed full of clothing purchases, back seat holding Peter's yoga mat, and Peter's brain filled to the brim with anxiety. At first he'd thought the PDA, this ultimate task list device, was a boon, a gift from heaven to allow him to live out every fantasy he'd ever had. Now, though, that he'd lost control of it, the PDA seemed to be pushing him farther and farther away from his fantasies, and deeper and deeper into his nightmares.

And while he was stuck in indecision, the one thing that Peter knew for sure was that he couldn't stay in the car too much longer. Already four neighbours, a jogger, and a police offer had all knocked on the window asking him what his delay was, encouraging him to get moving. The police officer had gone as far as to imply that, if Peter was going to put his task off until the next day, a holding cell back at the precinct might be a good place to spend the night.

Peter sighed deeply, the espied the same police officer slowly passing by the house for the third time, each time eyeing Peter sitting in the car, writing something on her notepad. That did it. Steve was better than jail. He had to be. Peter would suck it up, grab his shopping bags, and head inside. And whatever was waiting for him, well, Peter would figure it out then.

Steve had been lucky in life. Early on in life, his ideas, his intellectual property, had lead to significant wealth. For years he'd grown his company from a small operation to a multi-national, something he was very proud of. Then when the offer had come in from one of his early investors to buy him out, allowing him to retire early with a significant fortune, he'd taken it. The problem that he found, though, was something he hadn't anticipated.

Boredom.

He had never been one for mansions, he still lived in the first house he'd bought when he'd found some small success in his business. Nor did he enjoy sports cars. Yes, the Range Rover was a bit of a splurge, but he figured it would be the nicest vehicle he'd ever buy. No yachts, no private jets, no summer homes in the Caymans. His only extravagance, in his estimation, had been to end his marriage to Tammy, a relationship that had long grown cold and bitter, and invite Brittany, a young woman he had met through a mutual friend, into his life.

The divorce had been expensive. He didn't care. Steve had plenty of money. More money than he needed, really. And besides, while he and Tammy hadn't ended up being a good couple, Steve recognized that she had sacrificed for their relationship. Why shouldn't she live comfortably? He was just happy that she was living comfortably away from Steve.

Brittany was another story.

What was a woman like that doing with a guy like him? Tammy had said that she was a gold-digger. Maybe the money had been part of the attraction, but it had to be more than that. From the beginning, Steve and Brittany had hit if off. They read the same books, they enjoyed the same movies, and in bed... well... Brittany never went away unsatisfied, and Steve had never felt more fulfilled.

She made him feel like a man.

Like a real man.

She'd scream his name. She'd scratch his back. She'd (on occasion) call him 'daddy'.

Steve never thought his sex life could be so... energetic!

Steve was a lucky man.

But he was also, despite all of this, bored.

His company had been his life. He'd grown it, nurtured it, spent so much of his energy on it.

And now it was gone.

There were many days where he had to **** himself to put on a brave face for the kids, for his new wife, but he was bored. He missed it. Working toward something. Having something driving him. With seemingly endless wealth at his fingertips, Steve found himself in the aimless position of having nothing to strive for.

But now, with this young man who got to be Brittany for a day, Steve had found exactly what he was missing.

Purpose.

Steve couldn't think of anything more important than encouraging this young man, helping him to achieve his goal. It was, after all, important. And for Steve to be chosen, to be so close to the one with the task! His luck was holding true!

And so, peaking out the window, Steve was excited. His Brittany-for-the-day was in the driveway, sitting in the Range Rover, probably planning out the rest of the day. That was fine, but whatever his plan was, Steve was going to make sure that it was the most Britanny-ish day possible. This young man wouldn't know what hit him.

And, if he played his cards right, just like Steve had planned with the real Brittany, maybe he'd get lucky.