It would eventually become necessary for me to devise a plan to blackmail Mrs. Kentise into surrendering, in the same manner, as she had done to me. That was after I had gotten hooked on Libby. Some of her very own tools of the trade would come in handy in bringing that about too. Tools such as the camera and the sound recorder. Voice recording apps too, on the phone.

This was long after it had become clear to me that: the only thing she was going to be doing with the evidence she had gathered on me being in her house screwing around with her helper was to use it to try and blackmail me into doing the same sort of thing for her, and to her. After deciding to make this: her little shenanigans and sexual rendezvous public knowledge and shaming her would yield far greater results in getting her to quit than any legal pursuit would. I was able to wiggle my way out and break free from her dragnet.

She started soliciting action from me mere days after she first contacted me. That was, the following day after she had confronted Mira on the issue. Gosh, she smelled of breast milk for crying out loud. I thought we were bathing in the stuff. A Pretty little thing she was, and still is. I can easily see how she became Mrs. Kentise, so young. If pretty looks were everything, then the man who had married her; Bob Kentise, would surely have gotten everything that the world had to offer the day he married her. But other than that? She's a dumbass nutcase and a freak.

To be fair to her though, I can't help but think that she's got some real potential here because. For her to have gone and put together a scheme like that after finding out about her helper and me, and then use it to get some action back into her own partly retired sex life, after her husband had divorced her and remarried, was borderline, genius. I believe someone sold her up short, somewhere along the way, her parents probably. She called me up the following evening after Mira gave her my contact information. Said it was important that I come to see her and get some things straightened out before she went to see her lawyer.

Mira had already alerted me to what was up, so I was not the least bit surprised. I hopped into my car and trekked on over at the time appointed. Never did make much of the fact that Mira was not on the job there at the time. Mere coincidence, or was it a result of careful planning? Anyway, I got there to find her home with her two children. The elder boy was home from school.

Just like Mira had relayed to me how it happened when she was called upstairs to meet with the mistress, it was the same setting. The laptop was there on the kitchen table, active and ready to go. On the screen, though, unlike how things were said to be in her rendition of the story. The screen wasn't facing the front where I could see it. I was bending my neck somewhat to try and sneak a peek whenever she wasn't looking my way, but I still couldn't see anything.

"So," she said, "as it turned out, this is not the first time that you've been in this house, is it?"

"No, Ma'am, it isn't, and I'm sorry for my indiscretions and trespassing, ma'am."

"So, you're sorry? you're sorry now? What makes you so sorry all of a sudden? Because you now find that you are facing some charges like trespassing on private property perhaps, breaking, entering and, and...?"

"Like I said, ma'am, I'm really sorry, I meant no harm or disrespect. It was just a situation where - " "A situation eh, that's what it was? A situation?

So, what can you say to me to make me not call the police right this minute and have you arrested?"

"I, I don't know, I don't have anything to say other than to ask for your pardon ma'am. If you can find it in your heart to forgive me for this. I'm not a bad person or some evil person who has set out to do you, or anybody else harm. I just made a stupid mistake. It was a miscalculation of gigantic proportions on my part."

"A mistake eh, is that what this is, a mistake? Tell you what, let me think about it for a while, maybe run it by my lawyer and see what he thinks about the whole thing. Then we will decide where we go from there."

"I know I'm pushing my luck here ma'am but, could you leave the lawyer part out for me? Please."

"No, you don't get to tell me what to do, or not to do here, mister, I'll do the telling around here. You should be thanking your lucky stars right now, as it is. That you have found me in a good mood, or you would be negotiating with the cops by now."

By then the baby could be heard whining, and the boy, her brother, was a mama, mama-calling from the playroom next door. Her full attention was sorely needed elsewhere. "You may go now mister, but expect to hear from me again soon," she said.

"Thank you, ma'am, and have a good evening."

"Go, go."

So, I did just that, I got up and left.

Friday evening, though, almost a week after that first meeting with Mrs. Kentise. As soon as I signed off from work at about five-thirty, the phone rang. It was the madam, for sure.

"I've got a proposal for you, Mister Manley," she said. "You need to get here as soon as possible." I point my nose in that direction. One can't afford to irritate any further, this person on whom so much of one's future and freedom may depend, can he? She opened up the door to me, so I walked in.

"Have a seat," she said, as she turned the corner and went out of sight. I didn't sit, I could not. Instead, I scanned the room, just because. Wasn't looking for anything in particular, I was just uncomfortable. She came walking back into the living room, "sit, sit, sit down," she said. She spoke this emphatically but rather calmly and coolly. I sat down in the very first chair that my hand could reach at the table. She pulled out the chair on the opposite side and sat in front of me.

"Look," she said, "I've been thinking about a lot of things. I've concluded that you are who you say you are; just someone who made a stupid mistake and is sorry for it, so..." She paused, pushed back the chair, and got up.

"I'm going to cut you some slack here," she said over her shoulder as she again turned the corner and went back in the direction of the room where she had gone before.

Again, I snuck another peek around, leaning towards the door that was slightly ajar, and which led into the children's playroom. It had come to my attention that I hadn't seen or heard anything of the children since I'd arrived there. Mrs. Kentise came back carrying the laptop. Or maybe it was another laptop in her hands, I can't say for sure which, but it was a laptop. She placed it on the table and hit the power button with her right hand still on the backrest of the chair that she was about to pull out further. As she was about to sit back down, she paused in the middle of the act, leaning across the table at me.

"I think today is your lucky day," she said and then continued to complete the act of sitting down.

After sitting back down and shaking herself comfortably in the chair, she began to manipulate the keys on the laptop. Progressively slowing down the act, "Hmm, hmm," she squeezed out several sounds of satisfaction, of some sort of satisfying discovery you know, I think, or something closely akin to it. For several minutes she was at it, leaving me there to wonder what she was up to. She must have found what it was that she was searching for because she shot me a lingering stare over the top of the angled-up computer screen.

She then sat back in the chair and stared at me again. Slowly, her eyes narrowed, her lips parted as a thin grin began to birth itself out on her face.

"How about you give me some?" she asked as the grin widened on her face.

"Huh! What?" I reacted in puzzlement. The already wide grin she was wearing got bigger, as she slowly turned the screen towards me and...

Whoa. There I was, looking at me, myself, and I. Right there on the screen, in the nude, with Mira. While standing there, in the presence of another woman, a strange woman. The one with whom I was not there at that time, in that state, to do, anything, yet.

I slid the chair backward out from underneath the table and turned slightly around to heave out. "I think it's time for me to go," I said.

"No, no, please," she begged, "I'm being genuinely straight-forward with you here, I don't want you to leave like this, not this time. Forget all that, that, that thing about the lawyer and all the rest," she said, then, while pointing at the laptop, she added further:

"I want us to do this, you and me."

"You are sure about this?" I asked.

"Couldn't be 'surer,'" she replied.

Her hands reached up and started to undo the buttons on the skimpy little sleeveless top she was wearing. She came walking over to where I was sitting as she finished up with the undoing of the buttons and sat down edgily on my knees.

"Look." I said, "I've already done some things that I am regretting, and which is the very reason why I am here being quizzed and threatened by you. Am I going to regret this too? Coming here to talk to you?"

"No, that wasn't the reason why I called you here today, this is."

"I can't do this," I protested, "At least not with the threats of lawsuits hanging over my head."

"There are no lawsuits, there never was. Yes, I was angry and upset at first when I saw the recordings. Not even sure if it was at you, or Mira, I think it was more at her than at you, for bringing you in here you know, but...

When I started going through the recordings and got to see? all I wanted to do was to be in her place, in Mira's place. I just knew that I had to give it a try. I'm sorry for the back-handed methods that I might have used but, you wouldn't hold that against me, would you?"

While she spoke, she was undoing the buttons on my shirt. I gazed at the firm, full round breast there just bouncing and begging. I was just about to reach out and take hold and get a gluttonous bite out of em too but then I recalled that she was nursing. It's probably why they were looking so damn lush and inviting but I still would not take anything away from how beautiful the woman looked.

The upper half of me, the sensible half: my head, my heart, to a lesser extent, and my mind told me to protest. Don't be drawn into this dragnet, this trap. But my lower half, my over-actively sensual half wasn't cooperating. He just wanted to hop on the horse and go a-giddy-upping down the tracks. Guess which half won out in the end? Yep that, you got it.

This dirty old puppy dog just hopped on in and went on riding along down the dead-end track. This was going to become a routine over the next little while for us. Every time that the kids go off to their daddy's place, she'd call, and me? I hop on over to their place, where me and Mrs., Mrs. Jones, or was it Mrs. Ken? As in, Mrs. Kentise, yeah. Has got these red-hot chili peppers-like things going on. Until...

Libby came into the picture and spoiled everything, or did she?

While all this madness was going on with Mrs. Kentise and me. Mira and I were still having our regular rendezvous, only not at her workplace anymore. We never made that mistake again. So little by little, the heat started to wear out of the potful of Mrs. Kentise and me. Or so I wanted her to think of it. Mira likewise was seeing less and less of me.

"Is he getting tired of me?" she, Mira wondered this out while whispering in my hearing. But it wasn't that at all. In a way, Mira was deluding herself all the while into thinking that she and I were an item. I never have much real interest in her from the start. Nothing beyond hitting the sack and burning some fat. If she was hoping and dreaming of something more than that, I guess one could call it a bonus. Everyone needs something to hold on to. Like, a hope, a dream, in which case, I guess I'll always be her dream lover, won't I?

Libby stepped into the picture, and everything changed, and no, I wasn't banging on her door as you might be sitting there wondering even now. There was something different about the way I felt about her. I'd even seemed to have lost the desire for the "regular workouts" as I had grown accustomed to it up until then. That's when both Mira and Mrs. Kentise started turning to pester me: "Where are you? What are you up to? Why have I not seen you in x number of days?" On and on it went like that until Mrs. Kentise was to have gotten the fabulous idea of going back to her old ways, her old, redundant, and threatening ways.

They call me Manley "The Techno man" for a reason. I am the go-to guy for all things technical in electronics in general and computers in particular but somehow. It would seem as if Madam Kentise did not inform herself well enough about who I was, to have known that part. So, when she changed from her threatening ways to start bedding down with me. I knew that that couldn't last. I didn't want it to last and by then, I had also managed to see enough of her to know that she could be a two-edged sword of sorts, cutting both ways.

I had already tasted a bit of both bloody edges by then too. So, I started to prepare myself for that day when she would turn again from sweet to bitter. I started to record our every encounter, like, our one-on-one conversations, and phone calls too. Well, her phone calls, not mine, since I never called her, ever.

"Are you still f**king Mira?" The voice came yelling out in my ear.

"Wah? What? What?" I asked while rubbing away at lingering sleep and trying to pry my eyes open.

"Are you still f**king around with that girl, Mira?"

"I cannot see how who I may or may not be f**king around with is any of your business."

"Well, you must be f**king her. Or God knows who else, why you don't want to f**k me. And if you aren't getting it here, you must be getting it somewhere else, so who is it? Tell me, tell me."

"So, you mean to tell me, you call my house at 2:30 AM to inquire as to who I am f**king and why I'm not f**king you? Well, it looks like you're spot on right in at least half of the equation here. I'm not f**king you, and that is because I don't want to be f**king with you ever again. I never wanted to at the start, and I sure don't want to now, so go get a life and stop bothering me Ms. Kentise, I mean, Mrs. Addasa Kentise."

I hung up the phone and tucked my head back under my pillow. Straight away, the phone started ringing again. "What now?" I answered.

"You hang up on me madder f**kka, are you crazy? Do you know who you are f**king with? do you have any idea who you are f**king with?"

"Do you want an answer to those questions?" I asked, "Or is it that you just want to go a-rattling on? If I were you though, I would slow down and listen. Because I too have got some things to say which may be beneficial for you to hear, and since you have done got me wide awake and alert now, I might as well tell you.

You've got your own choices to make here when I'm done. What you want to do with the information I am about to divulge is all up to you. I have been recording you, I mean, our every encounter is on tape. From meetings at your house to phone calls, and yes, even this last one and the ones before that, and all of those one-on-one conversations too. Listen to this.

Now, as you can see for yourself, or hear, it's all here. Everything is on record, and might come in handy someday don't you think, Ms. Kentise? I mean, Mrs. Addasa Kentise, pardon me."

"You slimy Son-of-a-bitch," she said.

"No ma'am," I replied, you ain't know nothing about me or my mother. Or anyone else on my family tree for that matter. So, don't you go about comparing me to whatever it is that your idea of a family is, or ought to be.

"What are you going to do with those recordings?"

"Nothing, nothing at all. Unless you make it worth my while to use them, then, and only then will I use them, and not necessarily in ways like you'd used the info you have on me. You see, I don't want to be doing you so I won't need to blackmail you into my bed, and I don't think that the threats of lawsuits will be time well spent for me.

I want the biggest bang for my buck. So, how about me making all of your actions and shenanigans become public knowledge by circulating them, starting in your community, in the chosen places such as your worship temple? Your sports club and community center? And yes, I can make it all happen. I'm the Techno-Man remember?"

"You are a dead man, Manley. Or man "lie," or whatever the hell it is that your name is."

"That also is recorded for future reference, just in case. Remember, as I've already told you, I've been recording every bit of our encounters?" She hung up, why am I getting the feeling here that this is the end of her ever calling to bother me again?

To be continued.

Just an excerpt from my book called "How to train a wild puppy dog named Manley," it's available wherever books are sold. Might make a great gift for some this season, right?