He woke up about 7:30 a.m. and, at first, thought it was a normal morning. He felt a little chilly and reached for the blanket when he realized he wasn't covered, but didn't find it and opened his eyes to find the bed was stripped of blankets.
All he could see was a sheet of paper on the edge of the bed, so he put on his glasses and picked up a note from his wife.
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She stands in front of the apartment. Naked thighs cold from the wind swirling around the edges of the long coat she wears. She pulls the coat closer around her and shudders. He heart is racing as she raises her hand to knock on the door. Her nipples harden immediately. She knocks, once, then twice before she takes a small step back.
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It is one of those hot humid nights. All the windows are open in my apartment, but the air seems to be still. I am wearing my black yoga stretchy shorts and a halter-top in red. My clothes feel sweaty, probably still from yoga, but also from the intense heat. I wish I had a pool to jump into, maybe a cold shower will cool me down.
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Her heartbeat pounds out a familiar rhythm as she waits in the dark, stretched silently across the mattress like an offering, knowing he's on his way. The sensation of her pulse is primal. She's tried to fill the long desolate stretch of daylight hours, anticipation rising with the setting of the sun. A few more hours, a few more mundane tasks, a little more self control. It's a mountain she climbs daily, the precipice of which she now balances on, waiting alone in the tangle of blankets.
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I didn't think that I quite understood what I had just heard. My face must have been quite red and Brittany admittedly blushed as well, realizing that she had just said. My lovely, nerdy young tenant and neighbor (her husband and she leased a home from me) had just propositioned me in a way I couldn't quite forget.
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You call me as I sit in traffic and ask me to come over. I am excited at the idea of seeing you, but the traffic is bumper to bumper and my AC is out. I was already frustrated by my predicament and your call hasn't helped settle me. I growl something noncommittal into the phone and feel a pang of regret at the let down sound in your voice when you say ok. I realize you need me there. I smile after a long moment but then grimace again almost as quickly.
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"Well here it is the weekend already. Since we don't have to work tomorrow, how about we spend some "quality time" trying to give one another the most INTENSE single orgasm we possibly can," I said. It didn't take long for me to convince my wife to partake in my little orgasm challenge. We decided that the other would treat the winner of our little contest to dinner the next night.
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"Silas!"
Instinct took over. Silas Oswald dropped to his knees, taking cover behind the waist high bar that extended along the length of the Tesla-Coil Tavern. The movement was futile; Mistress Lavinia had already seen him and wasn't likely to forgive his disobedience anytime in the near future.
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Joe rushed into my office and asked, "Simon, have you heard the bad news?"
"What bad news is that Joe?" I asked with a quite audible sigh.
"The new boss starting next week, Chris Smale?"
"Yes I know that Joe, Chris Smale, the mystery man, what about him?"
"It's Christine Smale not Christopher, our new boss is a female." Joe said with a look of disgust on his face.
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She came out of the bathroom wearing her black vinyl dress, black mesh stockings, and black heels, and she stood in the light from the bathroom door regarding me with a mixture of shyness and challenge, letting me look at her, enjoying my reaction. I might have smiled. I certainly felt like smiling. She was dressed now and ready.
She’d touched up the small amount of makeup she wore and brushed out her dark hair and now she was ready for me.
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