You enter the room, and there she is, standing by the desk, her back to you. She is wearing a simple white top and a silky black skirt that barely reaches mid thigh. You approach silently, your footsteps muffled by the thick carpet. You reach out, pressing her down with one hand at the small of her back. Without a sound, she complies, bending forward, placing her hands on the desk. The position forces her short skirt even higher.
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Carolyn was a slut. I don’t like to use the word, but it fit her perfectly. She had a reputation in high school for giving it up to any guy who wanted it, but as far as I could tell not many guys claimed to have taken her up on it. She had an older sister who had graduated the year before, and the stories about her were even more widespread (pardon the pun) so I suspected that some of it was hand-me-down reputation.
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It was the last summer before I graduated in the fall from college and I found a job with one of the larger apartment complexes near the campus. In exchange for rent and a small wage I did minor maintenance on the units. I did a lot of filter replacements, minor plumbing and other type things that were a constant headache for the manager.
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"I'm having stupid thoughts."
"Like what?"
"Like that Tom's seeing someone else."
"What? Surely not."
Amy nodded, stepping away from the coffee machine.
"But, he's not like that." Kay said, inserting her coins for a cup of her own. "You've got your paws on one of the decent ones."
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"Of course I will come." you tell me. "That's where you will be, so that's where I want to be." You close the discussion with a soft, gentle kiss, before disappearing to the bedroom to choose your clothes for the outing, leaving me smiling as I try and picture just what you will be wearing.
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"I've never done that before, will it hurt?" she asked, sleepy eyed. We hadn't seen each other in over a month, we'd been kissing and had shed most of our clothes. The atmosphere was heavy with lust, it seemed like a good time to ask.
"I don't know, beautiful, I've never done it either. If it does, we'll stop," I answered. I appraised her mood, then added, "It might just be fantastic."
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My stomach was all a twitter and my head reeled in anticipation as I race through the deep shades of a cold November evening. I am late and I do not really know where I am driving to or who I will find when I arrive. That is the beauty and liability of the Internet. Chat rooms upon chat rooms full of sexual mysteries, dreams and lies. A place where fantasy reigns and reality need not apply.
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Throughout supper, and in fact for the entire evening, I couldn't help but sneak glances at Kalin. Once or twice, I think I caught him watching me too. But with dad in the room, I didn't dare to do or say anything more. Anyway, by the time I went to bed, I figured that would be it. Like I said last time, I was a bit naïve.
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There comes a time in every woman's life when she has to stop and say to herself, "Where am I now? Where am I going? How did I get here?" And then there are times that those are pretty darn dumb questions. Where am I now? I'm bent over the leading edge of a table. My hands are tied together and the nylon stocking used for that is looped over something on the far side. My stocking toes are barely able to touch the floor and I'm quite stretched out with my bottom in the air.
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