"Been getting any lately, honey?" Candi smiled, shivering with anticipation.

"Noooo!" Nancy exclaimed. The bikini halter loosened, came down and the rosy pout of the brunette's darkly-banded nipples, the sweet youthful thrust of her boobs, stirred the female beast in Candi's loins.

"Me, either," Candi laughed. "Isn't it the shits?”

"B-but, I heard you were married," Nancy said. "I mean-”

"Oh, I have a living arrangement with a guy, he serves a purpose, but he doesn't get in my panties.”

Candi usually did not explain Cleve Langton to her chickies, but whenever they saw him they always asked questions. He was so damned handsome he was pretty. She often used him when she needed a male model, ostensibly they shared the same apartment, although it was divided into two separate living areas. He never came through the connecting door unless it was for business.

He had a very correct social background that brought business to Candi's studio, but bad investments had wiped out the family holdings. Candi paid most of the bills. His only accomplishment was a superb golf game; she knew he could turn pro and make plenty, but he was weak, had no real drive. Broads fell all over him, young, old, and in between. He had lost his last job as a country-dub golf instructor because he had fucked too many bored, willing wives of rich sons of bitches.

In the right spot he could make piles as a male whore. Candi knew several very wealthy old widows who would pay almost anything to get in his pants, but manlike, he preferred the young stuff. Some of the chicks he brought to his area of the double apartment made Candi green with envy.

"Gosh, I never heard of a girl living with a guy and not-you know… " Nancy exclaimed, drawing Candi back to the exciting present.

"Fuck?" Candi smiled. "Anyway, we have separate quarters.”