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I'm Fabian. As in Fabian Copeland. Yes.That Fabian Copeland. He of the countless divorces, bottomless bank balances and endless romping. But despite what's splashed across what are jokingly referred to as 'the society pages', there's a few things that nobody sees. Yes, I'm on wife number four ? well, okay, here's a scoop for you ? I'm actually on divorce number four. And I have a mistress ? can one have a mistress without a wife? But as much as I love women ? and I really do love women ? their company can get tiresome after a while, and its at those times when I search out the company of men. I say 'search out' like its some sort of trial. Generally I'm surrounded by people who can't wait to throw themselves onto my dick. Despite all evidence to the contrary, I'm a pretty good judge of who's just after a fuck-and-tell story and who might be in it for a long haul. Well, a longer haul, anyway. Today, however, I decided to spend the day in the office. You may be wondering what it is, actually, that I get paid to do. For the most part, as far as I can gather, its simply to be Fabian Copeland. Perpetuate the myth, share the legend. That's about the long and the short of it. Its not how I made my money, though. And it is my money. There's a glimmer of pride to be wafted around that I didn't come from grandeur. No silver spoons. But that's not the point, is it? I throw myself down into the chair that sits behind my wide mahogany desk, the Corinthian leather giving a reassuring squeak as I settle into it. I remember screwing in this chair, the leather cold against my naked flesh. Its been a while, though, since that little slut. Christ, I can't sit here all day with a hard on. I do actually have work to do. Putting away thoughts of fucking, I log into my system and start reviewing email. After a few minutes I hear a small knock at my office door. I give a half smile. My assistant, Maltepe Escort Grace, even manages to knock genteelly. I wonder, as I always do, what she would do if I didn't invite her in. But I call to her and she enters, striding across the room toward the desk. ?Good morning, Mr. Copeland.? ?Hi Gracie. How are you? How's Max?? She purses her lips and looks to the floor, and I see a small blush creep up her cheek. I wonder who she's caught him screwing this time. ?Gracie ...? ?I have your post, Mr. Copeland.? ?Gracie ?? ?Your post, Mr. Copeland.? I move my eyes from her face to her outstretched hand and take the small pile of envelopes and packages as well as her unspoken hint. ?Anything I need to know?? She gives a small shrug, elegant underneath her peach-coloured twin-set. ?We lost Madeleine.? ?How careless of you.? Another pursing of the lips. ?We had to, uh, let her go. Gross misconduct.? I raised my eyebrow. ?Do I want to know?? ?No.? ?Has she been replaced?? If I was honest, I couldn't remember which of the girls that Grace managed was Madeleine. I had an image of a large-breasted, large-eyed brunette. Pretty sure that I never saw her naked. She nodded. ?Adam Templer.? ?Gracie! A man?! I'm shocked.? ?A boy, Mr. Copeland. I don't think he's even twenty five years old.? ?Just keep him out of mischief, Gracie.? ?I can but try, Mr. Copeland.? We smiled at each other. Grace took the hint and turned to leave. As she reached the door I spoke without looking up. ?Gracie, if you want anything ? anything at all ? just ask.? The door opened and closed silently. The rest of the morning passed without interruption. Whether Grace was screening my calls or it was just quiet, I didn't know ? I was thankful for the peace. It was whilst I was reading Grace's summary of a chain of incredibly dull ? but oh-so important ? emails that I started to Maltepe Escort Bayan think of this new 'boy' that she'd employed. I dialled her number ? ?Gracie, send Adam in, will you?? ?Sir?? ?I'd like to meet him, that's all.? I closed the line before she could say anything else and returned to my email. In possibly less than a minute there came a small knock at my door. ?Come in!? I didn't look up as I heard the door open and close. I heard shoes making a sort of soft scuff as they crossed the deep carpet and cease as they reached my desk. I gave him a few moments as I finished reading something or other ? actually, nothing at all, I just like being a shit. I finally raised my head and tried not to gasp. I did, however, let out a broad smile. Gracie, you dog ? He was stood, not exactly cocky as I could tell that he wasn't relaxed, but neither was he debasing himself in front of the boss. Dressed in the lower half of a silver grey suit, the white shirt hugged his torso and arms gently. The pink tie was a cheeky nod to what was no doubt a bit of a wide boy outside the office, and the square stud in his ear seemed to echo that. His dark hair was trimmed neatly, however, and his green eyes seemed to flash. ?Good morning. Well, just about. You're Mr. Templer, are you?? ?Adam, Sir. Mr. Templer's my dad.? He stepped forward with a smile, extending a hand for me to shake. I obliged. ?Please, sit. How are you getting on, Adam? Gracie treating you okay?? ?Uh, yes, sir. Finding my feet a bit, but I think I'm winning.? ?Oh I'm sure that you won't be discombobulated for long.? I watched as he smiled, transfixed. ?No, sir. I rarely am.? I allowed myself a smile. This boy was going to cut a swathe through the female portion of my office if I wasn't careful. ?Glad to hear it. I need some help with a project and could do with a fresh perspective. Escort Maltepe Do you think you're up for it?? ?I'll give it my best shot, sir.? ?That's all I ever ask of people, Adam. There's a folder on the table behind you. Take a look at it and give me your thoughts. Say, by about two this afternoon?? I watched as he nodded, stood up and turned toward the table. Oh. Yeah. He was definitely going to be leaving a trail of broken hearts and moist panties wherever he went. As he leaned over the table to grab the folder I could already feel my own reaction increasing. What an ass ? Great legs too. He walked back over and went to hand me the folder. It was then that I noticed the silver band on his right hand. ?No, you review it. Two pm. And you're married?? A faint pink blossomed on his cheeks. ?Uh, Nicky and I have been married a couple of years now, yeah.? ?Congratulations. If I ever try to give you marriage advice, ignore it.? I gave him a wry smile. ?Ha ? thanks for the warning. I'll, uh, I'll get cracking with this.? He turned to leave and, again, I let me eyes rove across his rear view. Down boy. I forced myself to ignore thoughts of Adam, but my mind kept circling back to him sitting at his desk outside. Eventually I couldn't take it any longer. With an hour and a half until he was due to report back to me, I decided to go out to lunch. Out of sight, out of mind ? Or so I hoped. Lunch was uneventful, and I was back in the building by one thirty. As I walked toward my office, Adam looked up. I hadn't realised that I was looking at him, but his eyes flashed and he smiled. I felt my lips turn up in response, automatically, without thinking. Realising, I broke the gaze and my smile, shrugged my shoulders and continued my stride until I reached my chair. I tried not to clock watch, but when there was a knock at my door I knew that he was exactly on time. Not a minute too early and not a minute too late. I wondered if he'd been stood there, fist poised, waiting for his watch to tick down the seconds. Or maybe that was just me. I sat there, listening to his proposals for which of the slated building projects he'd recommend, with pros and cons for all of them.