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She had chosen a chic two-piece ensemble; powder blue to accentuate her blonde hair and blue eyes, it was a sheer polyester halter-top dress with a fully exposed back. The short jacket fit snugly and broke in the front over her full, ripe breasts that were unhampered by a bra. She slipped into a pair of matching bate bikini panties, then pulled on a pair of high heels, only a shade darker than her outfit.

As she set her glass on the sink, she glanced toward the bottle of vodka and decided on just one more before leaving – it would numb the gnawing hunger in her stomach and ease her nerves a bit – and she was experiencing nervousness as she prepared to leave. Quickly, she downed a double, then searched in her purse for the breath mints – she knew that vodka had little, if any smell, but she wanted to be sure – the Donovan order was a large one and she certainly didn't want to win a sale or lose a customer!

Pam drove the short distance to the address in her receipt book and found the luxurious apartment complex where A. Donovan lived. She was surprised by the name of the place: "Tres Swing", but as she parked her car, she realized that most of the new luxury apartments were taking on daring names these days.

Carefully, Pam locked her car and opened the trunk. She filled her arms with the packages, then made her way from the parking lot, through a stone archway and found the directory: Apartment 10-C. Pam checked the guide and found she was only a short distance from the apartment. She walked briskly through the lighted area of the complex, found the Japanese garden, and crossed over a small bridge to find the large red door of 10-C just beyond. She was very impressed by the seeming size of the apartments and the way they were situated; no one's door opened onto another apartment and their entrances seemed semiprivate. There was a small bronze dragon set in the center of the door and Pam saw that there was a small button there. She pressed it and stood back, hoping she wasn't too early – her appointment was for any time after seven and it was just a few minutes past.

The door opened in and Pam blinked as a handsome young man wearing a short red robe stood smiling down at her. She felt her face flush as her eyes were drawn to his legs – it seemed they were bare beneath the robe that covered only the upper portions of his thighs. "Ummmm… Lotus calling…" she said in a tiny voice.

"Hey!" the man exclaimed, reached out and took the packages from her. "You're new!" He smiled broadly as Pam entered the lavish apartment and he introduced himself: "Alex Donovan… are you a friend of Marge's?"

She blushed again and nodded. "Sort of… I'm her replacement – she's leaving Lotus. I'm Pam… Pam Drum."

"That's great… come on in and I'll write you a check for these things… do you have your order book with you?"

"Ummm, yes I do, Mr. Donovan…" she said breathlessly as she followed him into a sunken living room decorated in sensual modern; there was no conventional furniture in the entire room, save for a desk set in a raised alcove in the far wall. Great furry pillows were everywhere, and low tables, usually associated with a Japanese tea-house, were set at random throughout the room. The decor, however, was not Oriental. The hues were soft and ranged from pale orange to buff to a deep brown carpet that covered the floor. She looked about as the man led her to the alcove, set the packages aside and smiled.

"Come on now, let's not be so formal… call me Alex – I'll call you Pam if you don't mind…"

"Ummm… of course not, Alex," she said, blushing as he seated himself at the desk and flipped open a large check book.

"How much do I owe you for these things, Pam?" he asked warmly.

She flipped open her receipt book and told him, "Eighty-two-thirty… I can itemize if you like."

He waved a hand. "That's not necessary – I've been using Lotus for two years and I've never been dissatisfied…" he said, quickly filling in the amount and tearing the check from his book. Pam gave him a signed receipt, then placed the check in her book and opened her order book along with the summer special catalog.

"It would be easier if I knew what you were interested in, Alex…" she said as she turned to the section for men.

He looked up at her and openly admired the young blonde. Jesus! he thought. If she knew what he was interested in, she'd have him arrested! Then he said, "Listen… you can save us both a lot of time and effort if you'll just order for me – one each, everything – for the man who has everything!" and he laughed as a door across the room opened and two other young men entered from a room beyond. Pam caught her breath: they were both wearing robes identical to the one her customer was wearing. "Hey, you two… say hello to Pam Drum – new Lotus Lady! Marge's replacement!" He placed a great deal of emphasis on the word "replacement".

Pam smiled nervously as the two men approached: one was short and dark-complected and he looked quite athletic. The other was as tall as Alex, but quite fair – his hair almost as blond as Pam's. She nodded to them both.

"Pam, these are friends of mine – good friends. Marc there is the short one and Eric's the tall Nordic type," he laughed. "When you make that order, just order for three… can do?"

"But… but… one of everything?" she asked in a bewildered tone.

"Times three," he told her, then spoke to Eric: "Make the lady a drink, pal… where's your manners?" He looked up at Pam. "You will have a drink with us, won't you? I'd be terribly hurt if you refused."

She shook her head – three of everything on the summer special – God, she thought, that would run several hundred dollars… and her commission…

"Well?" she heard him saying.

"Ummm, yes… just a small one."

"One small drink coming up," Eric said, and sauntered to a near wall where he pressed a button. Pam looked in amazement as a section of the wall slid aside revealing a well-stocked wet bar built into the wall.

"That's clever!" she exclaimed, and closed her book as Alex stood and led her to the center of the room where a great pile of cushions sat invitingly.

"Do something with those damn lights," Alex remarked to Marc as they sat. Pam eased herself down on the furry things and found them absolutely sensuous to the touch. She watched as Marc crossed the room, touched a dial, and immediately the lights were dimmed and took on a slightly golden glow. Marc joined them then, followed by Eric, who held out a slender crystal glass to Pam. It held a faintly milky liquid, and as she accepted it, she caught the faint aroma of licorice.

Tasting her drink, she noticed the others were drinking the same thing, but from larger glasses. It was sweet to the taste, but as it touched her throat, it suddenly made her feel as though she was on fire! She coughed and set the glass down as Alex laughed and slapped her lightly on the back as the other two men looked on in amused silence. As she came up for air and wiped the tears from her eyes, she asked, "Wh-what on earth is it?"

Alex sipped his drink and replied, "Something that inexperienced young ladies should treat with a great deal of respect… it's a liqueur – a little illegal here in the United States; but a delightful aphrodisiac."

"Oh…" Pam said, and tried another sip. She sat back against the pillows as the powerful drink seemed to bring a sudden warmth to her entire being, and she wondered what it actually was. As she tipped her, glass for a last time, she was disappointed to find it empty. She watched as Eric filled it from a slender bottle that appeared to be made of a fired clay, and as she took yet another drink, she had the strange feeling that she was floating.

Alex looked at her, then asked, "Do you like it?"

"It is absolutely… magnificent," she said, and felt her body become one with the pillows beneath her. It seemed to lift her, and combined with the vodka she had consumed before leaving her apartment, it had a telling effect on both her speech and vision as she drained her glass for a second time.