He had a convertible, wouldn't you know it? A sporty little job with barely enough room to fit both of us, dashingly yellow. We sat so close that our shoulders kept rubbing all the way out to that roadhouse he'd mentioned. We'd have been even closer, but when he tried to put an arm around my shoulders I'd slapped it down and told him to keep both hands on the wheel. He'd chuckled, like I'd just said the cutest thing. I was beginning to think that if I kneed him in the crotch he'd just gasp and tell me I was beautiful when I was angry.

The road house was sporty, too. Not as classy as the hotel had been, but this was the type of place that the upper crust came when they wanted to feel dangerous and daring. It was heaven and earth above some of the dives I'd worked. They really did have a Cuban band, and it was all right.

The maitre de greeted Osgood effusively. "Mr. Fielding! So good to see you again! And as always, such a charming companion."

We were seated at a good table, and I arched one penciled eyebrow at Osgood. "They seem to know you quite well here, Osgood. You and your 'charming companions'."

He took my hand, patting it. "I'll admit that I've been a bit of a dog, but those other girls didn't mean anything to me, really they didn't. They were just passing amusements."

I pulled my hand away. "And I suppose you met me and figured the circus had come to town yet again."

"Aw, Daphne, don't be like that! You're different from all the other girls."

"You have no idea how right you are."

The waiter brought over the menus, and I took mine eagerly. As you may recall, I'm a bit of a sucker for food. I'd been so nervous about this rendevous that I hadn't eaten dinner, and I was starving. Instead of stained cardboard, like most places I frequented, these menus were in fancy leather folders, and there certainly wasn’t a blue plate special of meatloaf and cabbage listed. It started out with Oysters Rockefeller and moved through pate and Chateau Briand to Crepe Suzettes.

"Osgood? My menu doesn't have any prices on it."

He looked indignant. "I should hope not! You're not to worry about the price, Daphne. Just order anything your little heart desires."

Really? Joe pitched a fit if I wanted extra crackers with my soup, which was a little hard to understand, since I was usually the one footing the bill. I sighed. "Oh, I don't know. Maybe I should just have a salad."

"What? You may certainly have a salad... also. But you have to eat, Daphne. If you don't eat properly, you'll fall away and lose those lovely curves."

I looked down at myself in surprise. Wouldn't he be shocked if he knew I could lose those curves by untying a few laces? "Really, Osgood, I should watch my diet. I'll blow up like a hippopotamus." I put a hand on my side. "It all goes to my hips and behind, you know."

His eyes sparkled. "It would only mean more of a good thing."

I was blushing, and I hid my face behind the menu. What a flatterer! Why, he could almost outdo Joe in sweet talk, and I had a feeling that his was a darn sight more sincere. I indicated what I thought looked tempting, and he ordered for both of us, At the waiter went toward the kitchen, another approached with a silver ice bucket. He presented it with a flourish. "The nought seven, sir, as you requested. Shall I open it?"

"No need. But put another one of those on ice, just in case." He took the bottle and screwed the corkscrew into the top, then pulled it free with a muted pop. Pouring some into two glasses, he offered one to me.

I hesitated, spreading my fingers over my bosom. "Do you promise not to get me tipsy and take advantage of me?" Holy Moley, I'm flirting with the old guy!

"I'd love to see you tipsy. I bet you get all giggly. But," his voice became more serious, "You're quite safe with me, Daphne. I respect you."

I accepted the champagne, and raised the glass. "What shall we toast?"

He lifted his own glass. "To us."

"Now, Osgood..."

"I said I respected you, and you were safe. I didn't say I wasn't going to try to woo you."

I bit my lip, touching my glass to his. "That's very sweet of you, Osgood. But really, it wouldn't work."

He smiled. "You just have to give me a chance. I'm very persistent."

Dinner was marvelous. I stuffed myself silly. I stopped in the middle of my second crepe, realizing that Osgood was just sitting there with his chin in his hand, watching me. "I warned you, didn't I?"

"I love a girl with healthy appetites."

"Yes, well, the food here is quite good."

His eyebrows wiggled. "I wasn't talking about food."

I found myself giggling. It had to be the champagne. We were on the second bottle. "Osgood, you are wicked."

Again the eyebrows. That was a cute trick. The band was playing a tango. "Let's dance."

What? "Oh, no, no. I couldn't, really. Besides, that's a tango. You might try to dip."

"All right, then," he said agreeably. He pulled his chair next to mine. "I'm perfectly content to just sit here," I felt his hand on my knee under the table. "with you."

I almost dropped my fork. When was the last time a hand on my knee had affected me like that? His hand moved farther up, and he started drawing circles on my thigh. My eyes half closed.

"My, Daphne, such muscular legs!" He gave a little squeeze.

Boy, that felt good. But if he reached much farther he was liable to run into evidence that all was not as he assumed. I grabbed his hand. "I changed my mind. Let's tango!" I tucked the single flower from Osgood's gift basket that I'd been left by Joe into my cleavage, and... Stop laughing, I did so have cleavage. Shallow, granted, but it was there, and I was proud of it! Shaving my chest was a sacrifice I willingly made to be able to wear low necklines.

There weren't many couples on the floor, but they were all the tuxedo-and-gown crowd. We started to dance. I have to tell ya, that Osgood was quite a mover for an old guy. In fact, when he pulled me into his arms and I got a full length feel of his body, the adjective old began to seem less and less appropriate. He was shorter than me, but he was a wiry devil. And strong? My. Just swept me right around that dance floor.

The only awkward moment was that I did tend to try to lead at first. Well, old habits are hard to break. He found it amusing, though, and told me it was too soon in the relationship for me to start leading him around. Then he flirted at me (he had the longest eyelashes) and said who was he kidding? I was leading him around by the nose from the moment we met.

One number ended, and another began, and we stayed on the dance floor. I tell you, I was starting to feel like Irene Castle. I've always been a little gawky, but Osgood made me feel graceful.

Somehow or other the flower ended up between my teeth. Don't ask me how, the champagne and the sheer giddiness of the evening was getting to me by then. But I had the stem clamped between incisors in the most approved Spanish manner. And he dipped me.

Who-o-o-a, brother! The man could dip! My spine arched like I was trying to do a back-bend, and I clutched onto him to keep from falling. I think he liked that. Anyway, he had one leg forward to brace for balance, and that leg had somehow slipped between my thighs, and it, er, made contact.

ZING! I straightened up quickly before he could realize what he had landed against. When a man does that while he's dancing with a girl he's expecting cozy softness, not hot hardness, which was exactly what he was about to find.

I couldn't believe this! I was getting aroused, dancing with Osgood! I danced even more vigorously, determined to work off the excess energy. He was enthralled by what I think he saw as my fiery nature, because he danced just as energetically. The crowd had thinned, and what few were left stopped dancing to watch us.

But my plan wasn't working. The excitement wasn't draining away, it was increasing. I couldn't help it. I... I... I dipped Osgood. Don't ask me what happened at the bottom of that dip, but when we came up, he had my flower clenched in his teeth.

The evening became a whirl. The crowd gradually melted away till there were only one or two at tables where the staff hadn't yet put up the chairs, and we were the only ones dancing. I looked up to find that Osgood had made good on his promise. The Cuban dance band was blindfolded.

I was flushed, I was giddy, I felt nervous and excited, and only part of that was because I desperately needed to visit the toilet. All that champagne. Finally I said, "Osgood, we have to take a breather. I need to go to the powder room and, er, make myself beautiful."

He kissed my hand. "I believe it is impossible for you to be any more beautiful, my dear, but you may try." He went back to the table, and I giggled as I tripped toward the facilities. They were discreetly located around a screen from the main room. Behind that screen, I hesitated. It was so deserted, and I'd seen the men's room attendant leave his post a few minutes before. I still wasn't comfortable with using a women's room. I decided to risk it. I went into the men's side.

I was prepared to act a little drunk and do the 'Oh, my! Wrong room!' bit if there was anyone there, but it was deserted. Now, in all the movies you've seen of a nightclub powder room or men's room, they'd have you think that they were nothing but glorified lounges, with mirrors and sinks. Well, in real life they have toilets, and I intended to use this place for the reason the architect put it there.

I went over to the urinals, hoisted my skirt, dropped the panties (things just seem more complicated for women. Thank heavens I didn't wear a girdle.) and let fly. Blessed, blessed relief. The sound effects were a bit like Niagra Falls.

And I still say that man must have been wearing rubber soled sneakers instead of dress shoes, or I would have heard him come in. I didn't. I'd closed my eyes in bliss, and the first thing I heard was, "Son of a bitch!"

My eyes snapped open so quick you could almost hear the click. There was a very large, very drunk man in evening dress standing beside me, staring at my most visible evidence that I should not be wearing high heels.

What does one say in a situation like that? Being a smart ass, and startled, I snapped, "You act like you've never seen one before."

He scratched his head. "The equipment is familiar enough, but the setting is startling. It's kinda like seeing a pickle on top of a wedding cake."

I finished, pulled up and lowered everything I had to, and said, "Just consider me as a price saver. They got the bride and the groom in one ornament." Then I hurried out, grateful that he hadn't yelled, or fainted.

I was relieved too soon. He followed me back to the table. I saw him approaching. Osgood had pulled out my chair for me, and I said, "Osgood, I want to go. Now."

"But Daphne..."

"Now, Osgood."

Damn, it was too late! He was right beside me. Osgood regarded him with a frown, and I shrank back a little. He was drunker than I'd thought, to the point of weaving. He poked a finger at me. "What are you?

Osgood drew himself up (and would have had to draw for another few minutes before his head came up past the guy's shoulder), put a crick in his neck staring the guy in the face, and said hotly, "She's a lady!"

The guy laughed. Oh, that wasn't a good idea. I could see steam starting to come out of Osgood's ears. "Now Osgood, he's just drunk. Ignore him. Let's go."

"That ain't no lady!" the guy chuckled. "Here, I'll show ya." He grabbed for where my bosoms were supposed to be. I screamed and fell back, crossing my arms protectively. The last thing I needed was for this yahoo to tear one of my chests loose.

I believe I've likened Osgood to a basset hound a couple of times? I was mistaken. Try pit bull.

He FLEW at that man! Of course it was along the lines of a pit bull attacking a bull elephant, what with the size difference, but the spirit was there. Osgood punched him, right in the kisser. A few years later there would be a movie out called King Kong. Remember the fighter planes attacking Kong on the top of the Empire State building? It was something like that. But since Osgood didn't have a machine gun, the guy just sort of swatted him down.

Osgood hit the floor, and I saw red. How dare that big galoot hit my escort! And he was moving toward Osgood with a nasty smile on his face that said he intended to do more. Well, he didn't get the chance. That last empty champagne bottle was still sitting in the ice bucket, and I christened him like a Navy destroyer. He sank.

I shoved the bottle back into the bucket just as Osgood sat up, rubbing his jaw. I hurried over to him. "Osgood! My hero!" If he hadn't still been a little loopy he might have wondered how a dainty little thing like me managed to haul him to his feet, but he was still a little dazed.

He looked around. "Where is he? I'll thrash him."

"You already did." I pointed to where he was laid out, colder than a pickled herring. "You were magnificent!"

He glowed. "I was?"

"You were." And, dammit, he had been. I've never had anyone defend my honor before, and he was ready to take on Goliath. "But Osgood, I just saw the management heading for the phone, so we'd better scram out of here."

"Yes. Come, Daphne. I would never have brought you here if I'd known what sort of mashers they allowed in."

We hurried out to his car (he opened the door for me), and sped off into the night, listening as we went for sirens. I had been exaggerating a little. I'm sure that a road house saw more violence than that on a regular basis, but I wasn't hanging around for that goon to explain to Osgood just what he'd meant. I'd come to really like the little fella, and I didn't want him disappointed.

"Osgood, where are you going? This isn't the way back to the resort, is it?" We were flying down a narrow road, heading farther out into the country.

"Mm? I think it turns back somewhere farther along. Isn't it a lovely night, Daphne?"

"Yes." It was. Osgood had the top down, and the breeze that whipped the curls on my wig was cool and fresh. "But we ought to get back to the hotel."

"Soon. There's a very pretty place just up here I want to show you." He'd turned down another, even narrower lane.

I was getting suspicious. "Osgood..."

We came out of the trees, and he pulled onto the grass, parking on a small rise. "Here we are." A pretty little lake, surrounded by trees, stretched out before up. The sky opened up over it, full of stars, with a big, fat, golden moon right in the middle of it. It looked like a postcard. Except on postcards they don't have different cars parked around, with steamed up windows.

I looked at him sternly. "Osgood. You brought me to a lovers' lane, didn't you?"

"No, Daphne. This is a lookout point." He cut the engine, then turned toward me with that gleam in his eyes again. "Look out."

"Why, you..." I couldn't really say anything else because his tongue was in my mouth.

After a minute I really couldn't think of anything to say. That little devil could kiss! My toes were curling in my high heels. He pulled back and smiled at me. "I'm not trying to take advantage of you, Daphne. If you want to stop, you just tell me and..."

"Shut up, Osgood." I grabbed his bow tie and jerked him back, and showed him that I knew how to kiss, too. Pretty soon we would have steamed up our windows, if we had any windows to steam up.

Osgood was kissing my neck, down to where my shallow (but it was there, damn it!) cleavage started. He panted, "Daphne, I want to make love to you."

"Oh, Osgood, I can't!"

He sat up, giving me a sympathetic look. "I'm sorry, dear. Is it... that time?"

I looked at my watch. "It's about..." The light dawned. "Oh. No, Osgood. My moon is still in it's new phase."

He sighed sadly. "It's just as well. I didn't bring any... you know." His eyes were big and brown. "That's the story of my life. I finally meet a wonderful, beautiful, understanding girl, and I miss my chance."

I tapped my chin. "Not necessarily, Osgood." I cleared my throat. "That man back there said I wasn't a lady..."

Osgood scowled. "The fool!"

"Osgood, I'm about to do something that may make you agree with him. I hope not." I scooted close to him and reached into his lap.

"Daphne!"

"Please don't say anything, Osgood. I need all my nerve to do this." It was true. I'd never done it in an open car, with a millionaire before. But he had just been so sweet and considerate, I had to do something for him. Besides, those dips had gotten me kind of hot.

Millionaires' flies unbutton just like anyone else's. And when I reached inside it was kind of like a treasure hunt. Only I didn't have to look very far, but what I found was a surprisingly big treasure. Osgood might not be the biggest apple on the tree, but he damn sure didn't have to be ashamed of his stem. And he was happy to see me, too.

When I touched him he gasped, "Daphne, darling! I... I can hardly believe this is happening. It's like a dream come true."

"Then close your eyes, Osgood, and make a wish."

He closed his eyes. "Star light, star bright. First star I see tonight. Wish I may, wish I might..."

I leaned down and licked him. He sighed deeply. "Never mind, star."

You know, he even tasted good. I wonder if it was all that pheasant and caviar? Anyway, I was never too full for this sort of midnight snack. I never did less than my best for any lover I was with, but... Well, I wanted it to be special for Osgood. The only other person in my life who ever wanted to take care of me and believed in me like this was my mother, and I wasn't sexually attracted to her (no matter what those goofy head doctors might think). I was determined to give Osgood a good time.

I used every trick I knew, and I know more tricks than Harry Houdini. I stroked and tickled and squeezed. I licked and nibbled, grazed with my teeth, and finally took his entire length down my throat. He was whimpering by the time I did that. The whimpers grew into appreciative whines as I bobbed up and down on his cock, sucking first gently, then hard. I reached into his pants and caressed his balls as I worked, rolling them carefully. I felt them drawing up tight, and he panted, "Daphne, you'd better stop. I'm going to... oh, dear."

Well, he was going to think I was a slut by the time this was over, so I might as well go all the way. Instead of pulling off I took all of him again, and swallowed. Osgood yelped. His hips bucked strongly, strongly enough to make me wonder what it would be like to have him pushing that big staff into another part of me. Then I felt the hot burst of liquid, and I gulped, wringing even more interesting noises out of him.

When the pulsing had stopped, and he was beginning to soften, I finally pulled off and sat back up. Not looking at him, I held out my hand. "Can I have your handkerchief, Osgood? I messed up my lipstick, and I want to repair..."

He pulled me into his arms again and kissed me, pushing his tongue into my mouth again. Well, that surprised me. Most men would hesitate at tasting sperm, even their own, but Osgood wasn't shy about it at all. I pulled back after a minute, murmuring. "I mean it, Osgood. I'm a mess."

He handed me his handkerchief, saying, "You could never be less than beautiful, Daphne."

"That's the afterglow talking, big fella." I said, wiping my mouth. I took out my compact and a lipstick and began to apply a fresh coat. "You wouldn't say that if you ever saw me in the morning, without my make-up."

"I'd love to see you like that."

"Hmph." I blotted my lipstick with his handkerchief. Well, he hadn't expected to get it back clean. "Silver tongued devil."

While I'd been doing that, he had put himself away. Now he said, "I have something for you." He reached into his pocket and pulled out a long, flat box, handing it to me.

"Oh, a present?" I opened it up. The strand glittered in the moonlight like ice. Well, it ice. Diamonds. It was a diamond tennis bracelet. I stared at it, then snapped the box shut and pushed it back at him, saying stiffly, "You don't have to give me that, Osgood. I don't sell my favors."

He looked horrified. "Daphne! That's not what I meant at all."

I turned away. "I know I've been... impetuous. But there's no reason to insult me."

"Daphne, no! It isn't like that. Sweetheart,"

He tried to put his arms around me, but I pushed him away. "I should have known better. Mother told me, 'Once you give in, that's it. They'll think you're a tramp. You'll have no respect.'"

"Oh, dear! I've made a mess of things. I should have given that to you back at the club, but things got so mixed up. Daphne, that isn't a payment, or a bribe. I... I was hoping it could be an engagement present."

I froze. I turned back to Osgood, and I knew my mouth was hanging open. "Osgood," I whispered. "What are you saying?"

"I know this is sudden, but if it's right, it doesn't take long. I love you, Daphne. I want to marry you." He looked down at his hands a little sadly. "I know I haven't got much to offer you, aside from money. And I know that doesn't mean as much to you as it does to some girls. I know I'm a lot older than you, Daphne, but you make me feel young. I was hoping that you could maybe find it in your heart to love me, just a little..."

"You know, Osgood. There's really only one thing wrong with you."

"What's that?"

"Sometimes you talk too much." I slipped the bracelet on my wrist. "Yes, I'll marry you."

His grin shone brighter than the moon as he leaned in to kiss me again, breathing, "Zowie!"