Paul, Mary...and Peter, a Romantic Triangle

Paul, Mary...and Peter, a Romantic Triangle
By: hardcoreliterary

Paul, Mary...and Peter, a Romantic Triangle

by

hardcoreliterary

"...so I told them, Get a room!"

That's how the barroom joke ends, isn't it?

I don't really have to tell her to get a room. In fact, she already has one. All I ever had to tell her was to get an extra key.

Once again, we're both attending the same business conference, just as we end up doing a few times every year. We had first met when we worked at the same company and, since we both still work in the same business, we keep bumping into each other -- in more ways than one -- which is what this not-so-little story is all about.

*****

It all started one weekend when I ended up attending one of those meetings I mentioned. Strange town; long, odd hours; way too much social stimulation (by my fairly modest standards of tolerance); rich foods; some booze. It was getting well into the evening on Friday and I was too worked up from all the unusual stimuli and the stress of the work-socializing-schmoozing to even consider trying to sleep any time soon. I wandered the hotel from one party to another, chatting, drinking, snacking, flirting with the women a little and goofing with the guys. I was on an elevator from one party floor to another when the doors opened and Mary got on.

I said "Hey, hello. How you doing? Long time no see. Nice outfit, by the way." I added, quickly, "Gee, you know, it's been way too long since we talked much. How are things at the new place?" I finished with, "Are you going to any particular party?"

Mary had worked for me for a few years when she was starting out in the business. She had changed companies about a year before, trading up to a really nice but demanding job similar to mine and we'd seen each other only in passing a couple of times since then because she now also worked in a different city.

We'd worked together pretty closely during her years at my company and I'd been a very satisfied and willing mentor to her rising star. She was smart, hard-working, creative, and ambitious without being annoying or back-stabbing. She learned quickly and brought energy and imagination to the work. She was also cute, if not beautiful, in good shape, active, friendly, supportive and physically attractive. We had discovered in our occasional casual conversations during downtimes at the office and during some group socializing that we had similar, somewhat esoteric tastes in reading and other entertainment. I'd found myself missing those chats a lot after she left since one of the sad by-products of my having highly specialized non-mainstream cultural interests is that I seldom have anybody to chat with about them in the workaday world.

Mary: I knew Paul would be at the meeting and I hoped we'd run into each other. In fact, I did everything I could to make sure it would happen, like making sure we were both staying in the same hotel. I sometimes thought I might be turning into a stalker but love, or lust, does strange things to us and I was in its grip. I made my preparations and I hoped and I kept my eyes open.

I'd liked Paul from the very start and not just because he hired me when he had the choice of a lot of equally-qualified candidates. He was always proper and a bit formal but still friendly and candid and funny and sweet. He knew his business and he was a great teacher, generous with his time and his expertise, wise in his instructive demonstrations of the peculiar intricacies of the work we did. I wouldn't have gotten the offer I did if he hadn't trained me so well to be ready for it. I went to him first thing after I got that offer and asked for his advice and he was clearly regretful that I'd be going even as he strongly encouraged me to take the job and reassured me that I was ready for it and that I'd do well at it.

When the elevator door opened and he was standing there all by himself, I thought that a benign deity must be arranging events to work things out in accordance with my ambitions and desires. The fact that I'd been madly lusting after him from very soon after I joined his company was something I had always tried not to show and I think he was pretty much entirely oblivious to it.

Just so you know up front, I'm married and I do love my wife very much. We get along well and we understand each other very well, some might even say far too well. We have a good and active and varied and energetic sex life and a pretty good life generally. I love my kids and I wouldn't do anything to risk the life I've earned for myself. But my wife knows that I have a bit of a roving eye and we came of age together in an era when the stigma about fucking around was, to a great extent, disappearing. The deal has always been that if -- when -- I do screw another woman, it doesn't get serious enough to interfere with our relationship and I make sure that I'm discreet enough that my wife never has to know about it. It would probably sound weird to most people but it works for us. Her deal is that she has to tell me everything (and it does happen occasionally) because that's the way I prefer it and my deal is that I tell her nothing because that's the way she prefers it -- but that's another story.

I don't chase other women compulsively or habitually but I've been known to succumb to temptation now and then. I'm no saint but I'm as honest as I can be and I'm honest enough to admit that I'm attracted to, and apparently attractive to, women who aren't averse to a casual fling. So sue me if you think that's a horrible thing. Life is short and I've always done everything I can to make sure no one gets hurt. I don't lie to get into bed with a woman and I don't make promises I can't keep or suggest that things are going to be different than they are. Also, although I flirt for fun, I don't come on to women and I make sure that it's obvious that I'm married so no one is walking into a surprise situation. Even as an adulterer, I try to maintain a high moral standard. Call that a contradiction in terms if you will. I don't believe I've ever actually flat-out propositioned a woman, either. I just can't stand the thought of rejection, the humiliation and the embarrassment that would be involved, and I'm not desperately looking to score so it's simpler not to do the asking.

It sometimes amazes me how many women have made their interest known to me and I'm more than half-way proud of the fact that I've very gently steered clear of a number of possible opportunities where I felt like the woman wasn't really ready to deal with all the facts of the situation or was maybe a little too inebriated to make a sound personal judgment or that things just wouldn't necessarily work out well for her. My morals may be a little flexible but none of the women I've had affairs with have ever called me names or regretted things after the fact and I think, actually I'm pretty close to certain sure, that I'm still friendly with every woman who's ever bedded me and every woman who's ever made it clear that she'd like to do so. I try never to be less than a gentleman and I think I succeed.

Mary: Paul and I had been to a good handful of the business shows just like the one we were at when all this took place. He worked hard and effectively as a spokesperson for his company and the products and services he was representing. He also had an effortless charm that made him, despite his relative indifference to that aspect of things, a natural pitchman for what he did and I know from direct experience that he brought a lot of profitable business to the company. I also knew that he was probably not as well-compensated as he could have been if he'd applied pressure or taken up any of the job-feelers that were regularly dangled his way by his competitors. He always said that he made plenty of money, liked the company and the products he represented and didn't need the hassle of changing his life and the pressure that would come with a higher-profile job.

Paul also, despite occasional complaints about the stress and the travel and the hours, managed to have a good time, both meeting new people and keeping in touch with a wide range of old friends and acquaintances. And, I knew, because I had started paying really close attention to what he did, that he also found an occasional opportunity to enjoy some extracurricular personal activity with some attractive women. He never, ever, flirted with me or with anybody else he worked with directly but he did like to flirt and I knew a lot of women who would have been interested if it had been more than just casual fun. I also knew that there were at least a couple of women who had taken the initiative to move it more than a step past casual. I'd even managed to mostly over-hear one conversation with a woman that had shortly preceded his (and her) disappearance from a bar in the hotel we were all staying in one time a couple of years back. The lady (and she was a lady) was also married, was not drunk or even seriously inebriated at the time, and was neither a customer nor a competitor but simply worked in a related area of our large and varied industry. No conflict of interest, no coercion, no pressure on either side. Just, as far as I could tell, a meeting of the minds that was shortly thereafter followed by a meeting of the flesh. I saw them chatting again the next day on the exhibit floor and there was no sign of anything other than casual friendship but I think I also could perceive an unspoken air of mutual satisfaction as well.

I'd also seen him, on occasion, adroitly side-step a situation where a woman was showing too much interest and not enough judgment. He was clearly selective and he was very cautious and discreet. I'd tried to keep a general eye on the crowd when things like that went on and I was pretty sure that no one else ever knew what was happening but I had my own agenda and, because of our working relationship, a golden opportunity to observe from close range, so my perception was probably particularly acute and focused compared to the average on-looker.

I'm not going to tell you my wife's name and I can't tell you my lady-friend's real name either. Let's just say I'm Paul and I've already said she's Mary. Those names are not even close to the real names, by the way, but the real ones are not anything exotic or weirdly different. If you hear more from me, you might even learn a made-up name for my wife, too. I've got a story or two to tell about her if I decide it's the right thing to do.

So, anyway, Mary and I worked together for a while and shared some personal interests (the usual stuff: books, TV, movies, but not the usual run of the most popular titles) and found ourselves becoming personally friendly although just in a limited, mostly work-related context. She dated occasionally but she seemed much consumed with her work life and there wasn't anybody special that I was aware of. Turned out there was someone special but there was a big complication. We'll get to that.

Mary: I like men and I have discovered that I like sex quite a lot. I've been open to experience and I sometimes think I may have been a little too free about saying 'Yes' although I've begun to have some understanding of why that might have happened. I've ended up with some nice men and with a few losers and I've tried a lot of things. I'd noticed over time that I enjoyed many things but I rarely felt the urge or the will to ask for things or to direct the action. The best sex I had was with men who had a definite idea of what they wanted and didn't feel shy about asking me to do it or, even better, telling me what to do to satisfy them. It became clear to me that a large component of my enjoyment was linked to my ability to deliver that satisfaction and that it didn't matter all that much to me exactly what we did as long as the guy let me know what he wanted so I could be what he wanted and respond to his desire.

I think the first time I began to have a true clue about one of the essential central components of my sexual nature was at Paul's house. I was having tea with his wife when a little domestic crisis swirled her away for about half an hour and I ended up browsing part of their library. They had a lot of books and I ran into a row of them on a high shelf in their bedroom that had some pretty provocative titles. I browsed them briefly, caught just a hint of what they were about and jotted down a handful of titles and authors because I was very interested, to the point where my panties were starting to soak through by the time I stopped taking notes and his wife came back to finish our chat. I asked a couple of innocent-sounding but nonetheless leading questions and got some answers that filled my mind with excitement and with possibilities. I followed up and did some reading and began to understand a little of what makes me tick and, more importantly, what makes me go off. Along the way, I also began to get some insight into what Paul was all about, too.

No guy had ever really taken command with me and I think that was a large part of why there hadn't ever been a guy who became 'the one' for me. Once I'd done some reading, I more clearly understood what I needed and wanted and I think I also more clearly understood something about Paul and how his life and his mind worked. And I wanted him now in a much more specific way because I saw the possibility of a true meeting of needs and a matching of temperaments. Without ever a hint of anything other than pure workplace responsibility, Paul had shown me the potential for a kind of domination that I had begun to recognize as something I wanted and, truly, needed in a more personal way.

I said I'd been attracted from early on but I knew, absolutely, that nothing would ever happen while we worked together. It would have been way too risky, of course, but I think Paul would not have even considered it because he would have seen it as, simply, not right to let something like that develop between co-workers and, particularly, between a boss and an underling. For a man of his occasional indulgences, he was very moral and well-behaved and proper and I admired him greatly for that.

I won't say that I was looking hard for a new job but I was open to the possibility for all the usual money and ambition reasons. I was also open to it because I knew that it would be a necessary step toward a whole different personal possibility that had become something of important interest to me. Fantasies about Paul had begun to play a big part in my life of the imagination and they were pretty graphic and pretty specific. I knew I'd need some effective and real business distance between us before I could hope to pursue them and they were a wholly unspoken, but nonetheless conscious on my part, set of reasons for my decision to take the offer when it came.

I like to think of myself as quiet but influential in a low-key way. I don't feel the need to noticeably dominate a room or run the show from a bully pulpit but I do like to get my own way and, particularly in my work, I think I know what I'm doing and I know what needs to be done and I'm persuasive and persistent about seeing that things go the way they need to go. Seems like that ends up being a turn-on for somebody who happens to be smart and hard-working but somehow more than a little passive on a personal level.

Mary: I loved Paul's voice. He could have sold me anything without really trying. He was very persuasive in general, partly because he really knew what he was working on but also because he was patient, never oversold and never pushed too hard. Underneath the low-key exterior, though, was a deeply competitive personality and, through the course of many conversations, he gave away a few modest hints about a very dominating side to his personality that I think he disguised very well in his business life but which I could see subtly manifested in his personal life.

He threw a few business social events at his home and I met his wife and kids. His wife and I got to know each other fairly well and hit it off terrifically and we'd even managed a couple of personal get-togethers to talk "girl talk" as Paul would put it. She was very smart, and sexy, and full of energy and, on the whole, much more outgoing than Paul. She was also candid and shrewd and earthy and she dropped an occasional comment that led me to understand that they kept each other happy, in bed and everywhere else, but that neither one was beyond an occasional adventure. I never said anything to Paul, largely because his wife said he'd be shocked if he knew that anyone he worked with was 'burdened' with the knowledge of his personal behavior. She said he was a very private man who needed to be in control and I understood exactly what she meant but I sometimes wonder if I understood even more than she meant to reveal because of the particular and specific direction of thought in which my own personal interest was leading me.

*****

Mary said, "I don't have any specific plans and I haven't promised to meet anybody. I just planned to cruise around and make sure I say hello to everybody I should say hello to. Would you mind if I tag along with you? We could do some catching up while we both take care of business."

We cruised and partied and chatted, making idle conversation, observing the scene, drifting apart to take care of individual customer chat and work contacts and then drifting back together again, and, mostly, making each other laugh as we'd done a lot when we worked together. On the way from one party to another one a few floors away, we decided to take the stairs, stopped between floors and got into a deep conversation about something vaguely work-related that I don't even remember any more. At one point she stopped, stared at me for a minute, and then said, "I've got a personal question to ask you. My room's one flight up; can you give me a few minutes in private?"

Mary: My heart was pounding and I almost felt like I needed to breathe in and out into a paper bag for a couple of minutes but I think Paul's lessons in business negotiation had taught me enough that I didn't give away too much of my emotional turmoil. I knew my chance was about to come and I hoped I'd have the courage and the fortitude to seize it when it happened and that I'd be able to make an effective presentation to a potentially receptive audience of one.

I'd dressed in an outfit very similar to one he'd expressed particular appreciation for when we first worked together. In fact, I'd taken careful note of his occasional comments on what I wore and I'd then taken to wearing things that he clearly appreciated and not wearing things that hadn't elicited comment. He seemed to have very specific fashion tastes although he never said anything unkind or critical. I figured he knew what he liked and he was too polite to speak against things he didn't like. Among his preferences were high heels that weren't too fancily embellished, straight-line skirts or skirts that swirled, pearls, tops that didn't have much in the way of lace or decoration. Among the things I'd inferred that he didn't like were clunky shoes, patterned skirts and frilly blouses. He'd once almost gone overboard over a velvet choker with a single pearl attachment and I'd taken to wearing variations of it a lot. I don't know that he ever noticed that I was dressing to please his taste but he often made a casual comment about how nice I looked and occasionally encouraged me about my stylish appearance when I was due to make a business presentation and feeling nervous and insecure.

In the expectation of running into him, I'd worn the choker and several things that went well together with it and that I was pretty sure he'd like. It was all part of the master plan and all part of the campaign to sell my project.

"Sure." I said. "I hope it's nothing too serious for you. You're one of the good people and I'd rather believe that life's going OK for you but if it's anything I can help you with I'll do everything I can."

"It's serious -- in a way,'' she said. ''Nothing for you to worry about but something that might take a bit of time and something that I need to go through with you in private. Follow me." She headed up the stairs, opened the door and trotted off down the corridor while fishing a cardkey out of her purse. She quickly opened a door and waved me inside. I'd known she had traded up with her job change but they must have been really happy with what she was doing at the new company because she was in a suite. There was a parlor with a fancy wet-bar and some comfy chairs and a doorway leading into a very nice-looking bedroom with a huge, four-poster bed. She could have thrown her own hospitality mega-event in there if she had needed to.

"Can I get you something to drink?"

"If that bar has some cognac, I'm game."

"I thought I might run into you so I made sure they stocked the place with a bottle. It's a bit strong for my taste but I remembered how much you like a glass of the stuff now and then."

She went behind the bar, fished out a snifter (the bar had all the right appointments) and poured out a generous dollop of Courvoisier XO Imperial. Nice. In fact, very nice! The expense account must be pretty healthy, I thought. I took a seat and she came around to hand me the glass.

"Sit for a minute and enjoy your drink. I'll be right back." She disappeared into the bedroom and I could soon hear the water running.

Mary: I needed to pee and I needed to give myself a minute to get centered and calm because I knew I was about to make one of the biggest and most important pitches of my life. I was pretty sure I had the right customer and the right product but I didn't know if he was going to be a tough sell or not. He'd always been friendly but he'd never actually let himself show any personal interest and I had enough evidence about his ethical thinking to be worried that he might see himself as somehow taking so much advantage of our former working relationship that he'd feel he had to refuse what I was about to propose. I made myself a little more comfortable, scrubbed my face and splashed it with water and breathed deeply a couple of times to calm down as I stared into the mirror and psyched myself for the next few minutes.

When she came back out, I noticed a couple of changes. She had removed her make-up and had a lovely freshly-scrubbed look to her. She was also padding around in bare feet and it looked to me like she might also have taken off her bra. Talk about getting ready to let your hair down, figuratively speaking. Interesting! Whatever was on her mind was definitely serious stuff. I settled back and braced myself as she was sitting down in a chair opposite me. She had a glass of something but I think it was no stronger than club soda. No matter how much she tried to downplay things, I knew this had to be major.

"Is the new job OK?" I asked. "I hope you're not sorry you made the move."

"You can let go of that frown," she said. "There's really nothing for you to worry about, for me or for yourself. I'm perfectly happy with the job and they've done some things that make me very confident that they like what I'm doing for them."

"Good." I said. "I could probably get you hired back if you needed a place to go but I don't know that we've got an opening that would suit your experience level or that would even come close to matching what I'd guess you're making now."

"Forget the job," she said. "It's not about that except in the most peripheral way. The fact that I've changed companies has opened up a potential personal opportunity for me that I've wanted to ask you about for the longest time. This will be a little difficult for me so I'd appreciate a little patience from you and it would probably be best if you promise to stay quiet until I'm done." Her face had gotten a little flushed as she spoke.

"OK." I said. "I'll shut up and let you run the show. You have the floor."

"This should probably be the last time I ever ask you to shut up," she said, "but it's important to me that I say things right and that you understand me completely so I'll try to be quick and to the point."

Curiouser and curiouser, I thought, holding my silence, taking another sip of that Courvoisier and giving her my best look of patient, focused attention.

"I've noticed how you like to run things, quietly and unobtrusively but firmly and commandingly at the same time. I've noticed that you, personally, like to be in control of yourself and your surroundings and that you are most comfortable when you are in control."

She paused a moment and looked at me very directly. "I've also noticed that you sometimes find a very discreet opportunity to mess around a little with women other than your wife." She rushed out the next bit, probably because she had seen me flinch, "Please, don't be alarmed. I don't think anybody but me would have noticed. You're very careful and you take especially great care that it doesn't come anywhere near your business responsibilities and I admire that sense of decorum."

My head was pounding a little. I was sure I was about to get hit with a blackmail demand or maybe some sort of harassment suit. I think my face must have flushed red because Mary got up and walked over to me. She held out a hand and touched mine and said, "Please, Paul, calm down. I swear there's nothing bad going on."

She knelt at my feet, put her hands together in front of her and looked me straight in the eye. "I have a proposition to make to you. I'd like to apply for the next opening in your 'messing-around' schedule and I'd like to open the possibility of it being a permanent position of sorts."

I think I looked blank and/or puzzled because she quickly continued.

"The reason I've noticed your extracurricular activities is because you turn me on and I've been very, very interested in everything about you. I've been so almost since we first met and I've been watching you closely since then. I long ago began to realize that I have a need to be dominated emotionally and the way you manage to control a meeting and get your way makes me hot. I just love your voice and I can't tell you the numbers of times I've soaked through my panties in a meeting listening to you persuade and organize and control a planning session. I've wanted to say something since just a few weeks after we started working together but I knew that I could never do so while we were at the same company. I've been patient and attentive and I've been watching you closely for all this time and that's how I've noticed that you sometimes find a little secret -- very secret -- companionship."

I gaped at her, stunned, not really even yet beginning to understand at all where she was going with this.

"I want to be yours. I want to hear your beautiful voice telling me to do things, whatever things you want me to do. I want you to fuck me. I want to suck your cock. I want to do anything you can think of to ask me to do. I want to give you everything I can and I ask in return only that you use me, that you let me please you while you exert your authoritative personality and that you maintain the same sense of discretion I know you've had for all this time now. In the words of Erica Jong, I want to be your zipless fuck."

After a pause, she said, "I think you should probably say something now so I know whether to shut up and crawl away or to keep talking."

I sat for a few moments. I think my jaw was hanging open because I felt like I'd been hammered in the forehead like a cow in a slaughterhouse. Part of it was the surprise of how all this had come about and who it was coming from but I think it was also because she had exactly nailed a lot of my interests and tendencies and was right on the money with many of my emotional and sexual interests. Despite the fright I'd felt, I was deeply engaged and deeply interested in what she was offering me. Eventually I managed to say, "Uh...Wow! I'm floored. This is not at all what I was expecting. Uh...where did all this come from?"

"I thought we got along well when we were in the same office. I really liked working for you and with you. I also really like taking orders, especially from you. I think it probably came from listening to you talk in meetings. Your voice is so smooth and deep and when it rumbles through my head I get weak in the knees. I've always known that I was, let's say, a very biddable girl. I can give orders when I have to for business reasons but I'm pretty passive in my personal life. I can't remember the last time I asked somebody out on my own and, with most of my boyfriends, I've let them make the decisions and the plans and I've done what they wanted because I tend to go along rather than try to lead on that level. I've discovered over the years that I like sex, a lot. It's been a while since the last boyfriend, by the way, and I decided a good long while ago that I really knew what I wanted and I was going to work out a way to create an opportunity and ask for it, or maybe even beg for it, and then sit back and hope for the best."

"You're pretty sure of yourself, aren't you?" I asked.

"Not entirely, no. What I know I want is you: whenever and wherever and however I can have you and under whatever terms you dictate. I like you. I think you're smart and funny. I trust you and I think you're sweet and I think you know what you want and you know how to get it. I don't actually know what you're like in bed but I want to find out and I want to give myself entirely to you. I've got a few ideas about what you like and what you want and I think I can be and do those things for you. What I don't know at all is whether you'll be willing to take me up on my offer. I'm hoping a lot but I just don't have a clue what you're going to do. The only thing I'm truly confident about is that whether you say 'Yes' or 'No' that you'll never let anyone else know what has gone on here between us."

"Just so we're not talking at cross purposes, can you give me a hint about what you think some of these ideas about me might be?"

"I think you like it a lot when you have complete control of what happens. I've seen some of what you and your wife share in your reading tastes and her responses to a couple of 'idle' questions have given me a strong sense that you're very much the master of your personal domain on the home front, at least on the level that interests me here. I think you like to dominate and direct and choose and I think you would like to have someone who follows orders and does exactly what you want."

"I'm not very squeamish and I've tried lots of different things and enjoyed most of them. If you take my offer, on which I place no conditions whatsoever, I'm absolutely certain that you can tell me to do almost anything and I won't ever say no to you. I won't ever do anything to mess up the rest of your life either but I hope that we'll be running into each other regularly for a good many years to come and I hope that you'll take me up on my offer and that you'll like what happens and want to keep doing things with and to me. It would make me very, very happy and I'd do my best to satisfy you and make you very happy, too."

She paused for a moment, and then added, quietly, "I've been preparing myself to make this speech for quite a while. I really have wanted to for years but I knew that I couldn't do it while we were still working together and I wasn't even sure I'd ever manage to work up the nerve to do it at all. I'm kinda proud of myself because this is probably the first time in my personal life that I've ever been this assertive and it may not even count because what I'm trying to do is give myself away completely and never have to worry about making another decision. I'm so nervous I practically threw up a few minutes ago when I was in the bathroom. But now I've done what I set out to do and it's up to you to decide what happens next."

She stopped talking and leaned back on her heels and gazed up into my eyes. I looked back at her for what seemed like a long time. She was absolutely calm and serene and it looked to me like she was ready to kneel there and wait until the end of time.

Mary: I may have managed to look calm but my heart was in my throat. He didn't look upset any more, or shocked, but I couldn't even begin to read his expression and I had no idea whether I'd end up sinking through the floor in embarrassment when he said 'No' or whether I'd get what had become my heart's dream.

As we were looking at each other, my mind was in a whirl. I hadn't been looking for this but I'd always found Mary attractive, in a quiet way, and I enjoyed spending time with her. I've already admitted that I'm enough of a horn-dog to be receptive to opportunities that might fall my way for a little extra-curricular sex on a casual basis. On the one hand, this didn't seem casual at all. On the other hand, it was an amazingly attractive and open-ended offer. Not only did I not want to disappoint someone I liked a lot but I didn't want to say no to some no-strings sex with a nice, and I mean really nice and attractive woman. Add to all that was the fact that there was a more-than-slightly kinky component to the whole thing that I knew fit right in with my personal tastes and, once my heart had stopped pounding from the initial apprehension of being blind-sided, I don't think there was even a remote possibility that I'd have ever said no to her. My dick was making his presence felt and there was some definite interest there.

"Just so I understand things clearly, let me ask you a few more questions. First of all, what are you prepared to do for me and with me?"

"Anything."

"Anything?"

"Anything that doesn't leave me dead, or mangled. Bleeding and bruised would probably be OK as long as no medical intervention is required. It would probably be best if, when I'm dressed and working tomorrow, no marks are visible but I do have at least one outfit that can be made to cover a lot of flesh if needed. I haven't tried anything like Golden Showers but if you tell me to drink your piss I'm willing to find out what it tastes like and feels like if it will turn you on. I might end up drawing a line somewhere but I don't know where that line might be and I've at least looked at a lot of kinky stuff and I can see myself dealing with most of it if the order to do it comes from you because you want to try it to get yourself off."

"Why do you want to do this with me?"

"Because I think you'd like it and because it turns me on a lot to think about having you give me orders to do sexual things to you and with you. I love you, without reservations and without expectations and I want to express that love physically. It will fulfill me to have you accept me as yours, without any real limitations or terms on my part."

"Do you have any expectations about what I'll want you to do?"

"Yes and no. I assume you'll want to do all the usual things, put your cock in all my orifices, that sort of thing. I'm guessing that with absolute freedom of choice, you might be inclined to whip me or beat me, constrain or restrain me in some way, test the limits of my submission and that you might also want to experiment with any and/or all of the things that most people think of as kinky. Do you want me to list the possibilities out loud? I've got a catalog of scenarios that I'm aware of from a curiosity-driven study of the 'literature' and I suspect I could go on for a good long while."

"No need to recite the entire list. Perhaps another time, though. And you're ready for all of that?"

"Ready, willing and able. This isn't business, this is absolutely personal, but I've thought about it at great length and it's something that I want and I have no hesitation about making the offer and I hope, with all my heart and soul and body that you'll take me and do whatever you want with me."

"Is there anything you particularly want me to do with you?"

"'Use me' about covers it, but I'll admit I'm curious about really serious domination and submission, about being restrained and about the use of pain to achieve pleasure. I've only ever read about it or seen it in videos and I can tell from my own physical responses that there's something deep in me that could get into some of that stuff. But, honestly, it's pretty much whatever gets you hard and gets you off that's most important to me. I know from previous physical relationships that I get off best when I know the guy I'm with is being most satisfied by whatever it is that he wants me to do."

"Is there anything particularly you want to do to me?"

"All of the above, as soon as you order me to do it. I've put myself to sleep many nights, though, with fantasies about sucking your cock. I think it's just non-mainstream enough to give me a particular thrill; I've found out that I'm good at it (or at least the guys I've done it to seem to like what I do) and that I really like doing it because of the way most men respond to it; and, I think, I find the mechanics of it and the psychological weight of it inside my head give me a really strong feeling of service, the kind of feeling that does powerful things to my own libido. And I like the taste and feel of come in my mouth. I'm trying to be completely candid here but I mean it when I tell you that what's most important is whatever gets you off best at any given moment."

By this point, my cock was rigid and pressing against my pants and I would not have been surprised to see a stain from excessive lubrication if I'd looked down at my crotch. Instead, I stared her hard in the eyes as I said, "All right. I accept your very generous and open offer. I make no promises or commitments beyond tonight but I'll use you the way I feel like and decide afterwards whether I'll be back for more."

"So, I've got a shot at the job, then, do I?" She was grinning but I could see some relief in her expression.

"On a trial basis, yes."

"Thank you. I know I won't disappoint you...sir."

"Now, take all your clothes off." That last bit I rapped out like a drill sergeant's command. The 'sir' she'd put at the end of her latest reply had made my cock throb.

She immediately got up and began disrobing. She didn't do a striptease but then I hadn't asked for one. She was efficient and neat, just as she had always been when we worked together. In a few moments, she was naked and there was a neat pile of folded clothes on the dresser next to her. I had, indeed, been correct in my surmise: she had removed her bra while she was in the bathroom.

I stared her up and down, admiring her body, from her breasts to her belly and on down to her lovely bush and the folds of her vagina, barely visible through the neatly-trimmed mat of her pubic hair. Her cheeks were slightly flushed, she was breathing deeply and her nipples were already puckered and aroused.

"OK. Spread your arms out wide and turn around slowly. Stop when you're facing away from me."

I watched her breasts as her posture made them stand up and out and I admired her curves as her body slowly rotated in my view. When she was standing facing away from me, I said, "Bend over at the waist. Put your hands on your ass and spread yourself wide apart."

I took a good look and could barely resist the temptation to put a finger into her. After a minute, I told her to straighten up and face me again. She was clearly getting more excited by the minute.

"Pinch your nipples and play with yourself. I want to see if they get more erect than they are now."

She did as she was told and, soon, she was breathing heavily and her nipples did, in fact, stand out more prominently.

"Start using your hands on your cunt in whatever way works to make you come and lean forward so that I can play with your breasts while you're doing it."

She did as she was told, spreading her legs to balance herself and to give her hands room in her crotch. I cupped her breasts, weighed them in my hands and then moved on to her nipples, rolling them between my fingers gently and then beginning to squeeze and pinch them harder and then harder still. The expression on her face became a definite mixture of pain and pleasure but she didn't flinch and she began to moan, very gently, almost purring in her response. I could hear a bit of a squelching noise as her fingers moved on and in her cunt. Her breathing was very deep and very regular and it seemed to me that she must be getting very excited.

"Do you come easily from masturbating yourself?"

"Yes, sir," she said, her voice heavy with excitement.

"Are you ready to come now?"

"Almost." A gasp.

"I'm going to pinch your nipples really hard and I want you to let yourself come, or make yourself come, when I do. Are you ready?"

"Yes, sir."

"Now," I said, as my fingers closed hard and tight on her nipples.

She gasped and shuddered and I could see her hands moving hard, one pushing her fingers deep inside her and the other forming a little cup with her thumb and two fingers at the top of her cleft, squeezing and rubbing quickly where her clitoris was. She didn't pull away from my hands and she kept shuddering for a few seconds. Then, she drew a deep breath and her breathing began to calm.

"Was that an orgasm?"

"Yes, sir, it was. Thank you, sir. It was very intense and I think the pinching on my nipples really put me over the top."

"You're most welcome," I said. "I like to pursue my own pleasure and I can be entirely selfish about it at times but some of my pleasure is in the response of my lover and I'm quite pleased with yours."

"I'm happy to be of service, sir. Is there anything I can do for you now, sir?"

I was still sitting in the chair and I stretched out my legs. I told her, "Get on your knees. Open my pants and pull out my cock and suck me off."

She was eager but not too quick. She knelt down again, unbuckled my belt, pulled down my zipper, and pulled down my pants as I hunched up a little and lifted my buttocks off the seat. When my clothes were out of the way, she leaned in with her mouth open and, using her hands, steered the head of my cock into her mouth. Her mouth was wet and hot and I was already very excited by the surprise and by the vista of sexual opportunity she had laid out for my consideration. She had her eyes closed and the look on her face was extraordinary, very concentrated but at the same time almost beatific and relaxed. She was cupping my balls in one hand and holding the lower part of my cock in the other as she moved her head down onto my cock. I could see myself disappearing more deeply into her mouth and I could feel warmth and wetness and pressure and suction all at once. She had obviously sucked a cock before and she was giving me the full benefit of her experience. She was taking me deep into her mouth and the grip of her hands was firm and gentle as she massaged my balls and gently jacked me off, all while her mouth moved up and down on me. She was milking me with dedication and commitment and efficiency and, for the first time in a long time, I felt like I was about to lose control in a hurry. Even if the foreplay had been mostly talk, it had been very effective and arousing.

"Open your eyes," I said. She opened them and she looked up into my eyes while her hands and her mouth kept working. "I love having my cock sucked. You could probably have guessed that because I'm a man and I don't believe that any man doesn't love having his cock sucked. But, in fact, I really, really like having my cock sucked. There have been women, including my wife, who have suggested that I'm close to obsessional on the subject and I can't say that I'd be prepared to argue that I'm not. If you're going to be mine, you're going to be doing this a lot. I'll tell you what I like and what I want, in detail when I feel like it, but you should always know that if we're going to be together you're going to spend a lot of time like this, naked, on your knees, between my legs, with my cock in your mouth. Sometimes I might even let you use a pillow for your knees when you're going to be on them for a long time. I won't always come in your mouth but I'll always want to come in your mouth, I'll think seriously about doing it every time I put my cock in your mouth, and I will do it a lot. In fact, I'm going to do so quite soon so there's something I want to tell you pretty quickly before that happens."

"I won't often tell you when I'm going to come. You might learn how to tell when it's about to happen but that's up to your skill at observation and your commitment to learning the subtleties of my sexual responses. I like coming to be spontaneous and I like it to be a surprise, often even to me. I also really like it when you look in my eyes while you're sucking my cock and I like to see your expression when you feel me coming in your mouth. I loved how happy you looked with your eyes closed a minute ago but you should know that I love it even more when you watch me and I watch you while you're doing it."

Just a handful of seconds after I finished saying what I wanted to say, I felt the first spurt of my come into her mouth. I saw her eyes widen just a little and she immediately intensified the tightness of her grip with her hands and with her mouth and gently but firmly speeded up her motions. I spurted again and again, probably at least half dozen times in total and she kept her eyes glued to mine as she milked me of every possible spurt and every last drop of my come, gulping and swallowing it all down as she did. She was moaning with pleasure and tears started to run from her eyes but she kept up her efforts until I reached out and grabbed the sides of her face in my hands and held her still, staring into the depths of her eyes.

After a few moments, I leaned back and she leaned forward as I did so, staying with me, keeping my cock wrapped in her sweet grip and deep in her mouth, which she kept moving on me even as her tongue continued to slither and move around and around all up and down the length of me that she had in her mouth. And she kept her eyes fixed on mine and the tears kept flowing down her face.

After a couple more minutes, I made her let my cock out of her mouth and told her to lean back on her haunches again.

"That was amazing," I said. "You're a truly extraordinary cocksucker. I almost never come that quickly but your mouth and your lips and your tongue and your hands worked so wonderfully well together that you practically vacuumed the come right out of my balls. Of course, the conversation we've had this last little while had me extremely excited, too. I was what you might call 'ready.'" I hesitated a moment. "I have to ask, though, why are you crying? Did I hurt you? Are you unhappy for some reason?"

"No," she said gently. "I'm fine. I'm wonderful. You didn't hurt me. I loved doing what I was doing and I loved how it felt when you came in my mouth while you were watching me. I'm crying because I'm so happy. This was wonderful. It was everything I ever dreamed it could be and more. You made me so very happy by accepting my offer and by doing so in the way you did, by taking control and starting to give orders right away and with such authority. I'm exactly where I want to be and doing exactly what I want to do and I hope you'll use me again in a minute and that you'll keep using me again and again forever. I hope you'll fuck me and do all sorts of other things to me but if all you ever want me to do is to suck your cock and make you come in my mouth then that's what I'll do and I'll be blissfully happy doing it. I really want to be yours, in any and every way that I can be, and I'm crying because my heart is so full of joy that you wanted me and that you took what I offered. Please don't ever stop wanting me. I love you. You've made me as happy as I can ever remember being. I think I'm also incredibly relieved that I didn't misjudge the possibilities and that I didn't 'blow the interview.'" After a pause, she flashed a smile and added, "Just you is what I blew."

"Pure poetry," I said.

After a moment, I glanced at my watch, and then I asked, "Do you have an extra key for the room?"

She frowned for a moment and then said, "No. I didn't even think of that. I've got one key each for the parlor door and for the bedroom door."

"Next time, get an extra for me. For now, give me your key to the parlor door."

She immediately got to her feet and went to her purse and took out the keycard and handed it to me. As she stood up, I could see the question in her eyes but she said nothing. As she was moving around, I let my gaze run over her body and I liked what I saw a lot. She wasn't exactly voluptuous but she wasn't skinny either. She looked fit, her skin was smooth and evenly colored, her tits were really lovely and she was glowing, either from the exertion or from sexual excitement, or, I suppose, from a combination of the two things, in a way that made me want to throw her down and ravish her again immediately.

I stood up and started adjusting my clothes. "I'm going to go back out to the parties. I'll probably spend about half an hour to forty-five minutes or so and I'll try to run into a bunch of the people we both know. I'll mention that you told me you were calling it a night if anybody asks since we were seen hanging around and spending some of our time together. I might even flirt a little with some women just to cover my tracks as thoroughly as possible. It can be handy to be known for enjoying it and for it to be widely known as fun but harmless. I've spent a long time being very careful about not getting caught and I'm not about to start slipping up. I'm damned if I can figure out how you caught me and at some point I'll make you tell me in exact detail so I can learn what signals not to give away. When I come back, I'll start really testing your commitment to this open offer to see what your limits might be -- or if you have any at all."

"Whatever you want. That's my motto. I'll be ready and waiting.

"Stay naked. If you get chilly you can put on a robe or crawl under the bedcovers but I want you to be ready and available for me the moment I'm back in the room. I'll be back soon, I'll let myself in, and I should be ready for action again by then." I kissed her on the lips and whispered, "You made an offer and I'm taking you up on it, all the way. You're mine now. Do whatever I tell you to do and we'll get along just fine. You know some things about me and you know how I like to get everything my way. That extends to my women and to sex, just in case there was any doubt in your mind. You may not have known it for sure when you did it but your instincts are totally on the money and you absolutely made me an offer I couldn't refuse and, in fact, couldn't even imagine wanting to refuse. I've always felt a need to be dominant in my relationships and there are some areas of that fascination and need that I've been wanting to explore much more deeply than I have. I feel like you've offered me a lifetime pass on an E-ticket ride and I'm going to get on with you and you'd better be prepared to hold on for the ride of your life. Oh, one other thing before I go. Do you have scissors and a razor with you?"

She blinked once and then said, "Yes, on the scissors, cuticle size, and I have two, actually, on the razor. I had to buy a new pack and I shaved my legs earlier today with one and there's an unused one in my kit."

"Good. Perfect, even. You have a very pretty bush but I happen to prefer my women with their cunts completely shaved. I hear that it's become very fashionable among the kids and I certainly see lots of evidence of shaved pubes in the Playboy photo spreads and in the other erotic photos I've seen lately but it's just always been a very strong personal preference of mine. I like the feel of it and the look is very stimulating to me as well. Plus, it really turns me on to order a woman to do it and know that it's just for me that she's going to do it. You should trim your hair as short as you can with the scissors then take a shower, lather up and use the razor to get everything off. I'll expect you to be bare right down to the skin when I get back. If you've got some kind of body lotion to put on afterwards, that will minimize any skin irritation for you. Use the new blade; otherwise you'll probably end up hurting yourself."

I turned and poked my head out into the hallway, saw no one was in sight and slipped out the door, pulling it gently closed behind me.

*****

That's the way it started, back a handful of years ago now. Going to conferences fairly often as I have to do, knowing that Mary will sometimes be there makes the traveling a lot more tolerable and what we've become with each other makes things very special when we can get together from time to time like that. Most often, when I check into the hotel at my destination, there's a plain envelope waiting for me with a keycard in it and a post-it stuck to the key with a room number carefully printed on it -- nothing more. It's all I need to know and it tells me that Mary still wants to be my property and that she's available and ready for anything. She wasn't kidding when she said anything, either. We've tried a lot of things and she is the most open-minded yea-saying woman I've ever had the pleasure of going to bed with. I haven't run out of interest and I haven't run out of new ways to use her and she keeps coming back for more with a huge smile on her face. I could ask for more, I suppose, but what would I do with it when I got it? For that matter, what would more be?

Sometimes I call the room and I either tell her directly in advance what to do or leave a voicemail. Sometimes I just run into her at the meetings or at the hospitality events and manage to murmur a few instructions in her ear as we say hello to each other. She's told me that when I tell her what to do in public like that she can barely control the wetness in her crotch she gets so turned on. Sometimes I leave another plain envelope for her. A time! A posture! What to wear -- or not to wear! It varies each time although there are some general patterns that I like to repeat because they really get my juices flowing.

She's almost always naked or very close to it and I always remind her that she should be freshly shaved. I always check right away, too, to make sure she's following orders and because I just love the feel of a clean-shaven cunt, particularly one that's indicating that it's primed and ready for action. I also get off very strongly on asserting my ownership of her in that particular way. Her willingness to conform to my particular desires is a very encouraging and arousing signal to me. She has told me that she doesn't need to be reminded because she now keeps herself shaved every day as part of her cleaning rituals and she regularly gets a fresh waxing as well just before we're due to meet up but I still like to make a point of reminding her. I think she likes it too because her face always takes on a delicate flush when I speak to her about it in person.

One of the things I like to do sometimes is to tell her to make sure the room has a single bed in it. They're a little small for straight fucking, of course, but when I tell her to be waiting on the bed on her hands and knees, facing across the bed with whichever end I've specified, head or backside, facing the door, it turns out to be very convenient for one of my favorite games. She brings along a little kit of toys we've accumulated and I tell her to put on the blindfold. When I use the keycard and come in, she's there on the bed, ready and waiting, all her holes uncovered and open and available for me. I take my clothes off quickly and sometimes go to the bathroom if I've been out wandering around partying for any length of time. She can hear me enter and she can track my movements to some extent but the first touch is either when I shove my cock into her cunt (which is always wet with anticipation) or when I jam my cock into her mouth and down her throat (which is, also, always open and ready). I love using all of her holes and I can never really plan where I'm going to come in her because my restless impulse is always to keep switching around from one to another until my cock decides that it's been stimulated enough and lets go in a burst of come. That's where the single bed comes in handy. The height is just right and I can fuck her cunt as much as I want, pull out, walk around the end of the bed and shove my cock down her throat, fuck her there for a while and then swap ends again as the mood strikes me. Sometimes, the excitement is too much for me, especially when I start with her mouth, and I come fairly quickly and copiously. She swallows, always, and she can't help showing, with that huge smile and with a glow on her cheeks, how satisfied she is that I've chosen to come in her mouth. She's there to serve my pleasure and she counts it a triumph every time I ejaculate into her -- and she knows that even if it takes a while for me to get hard again that the play has just started and that she'll end up thoroughly used and satisfied and happy and full of my come.

Don't get me wrong. I'm no brutal, selfish exploiter and I don't take unfair advantage of her. I'm not the clichéd 'dominant' that you read about with the leather pants and the whip clipped to my belt but we've been exploring some of the avenues of that particular world and one of the key elements of the whole arrangement for me, and for her, is the control business. It gets me off to direct her and to give orders and make demands with the absolute certainty that they'll be obeyed and fulfilled. She has also completely convinced me that she's a natural submissive, that her arousal is most often directly linked to the fact that she is following orders and being used, and that she is serving as an instrument of my pleasure. I had always thought that characters like that were some sort of male fantasy but I've seen convincing proof in the level of her response that makes me a believer. She enjoys it when we have sex in whatever way we choose to do it but her arousal is deeper and her responses are more profound and wilder when I'm making a point of being controlling and dominant and using. The funny thing is, I'd always known that I needed to be in control but I'd never known how hard it could make my dick to have such absolute control and to have no limits set on my power to imagine and command.

She gets her fair share of stimulation and orgasms and all the rest of it. I love eating her cunt and she comes like a house afire. She's actually pretty quick on the trigger generally and she can come from some unusual stimuli. She has come from my licking and chewing on a really sensitive spot on her neck. From time to time she has come when I really get into licking and nibbling her nipples. She has even convinced me that she has come a couple of times when she's going down on me. This is no Linda Lovelace thing, as far as I can tell. Her clit is in the usual place and it's perhaps a little more than usually responsive. I like getting her off and I like watching her as she comes just as I like having her watching me as I come. I can't swear that I've actually observed her coming while she has my cock down her throat but she doesn't lie so I believe her when she tells me it has happened. I'm usually pretty focused (or distracted, you might say) when she's doing that and when I'm deep inside her, and I can't swear that it's true but she definitely shows all the surface signs of an orgasm including the flush she often gets on her chest, the panting and the rapid, almost convulsive twitching in her tummy. I keep swearing that I'm going to manage to have a finger inside her cunt sometime so that I can feel those contractions that are the absolute clincher evidence for me that she's having a major orgasm but I haven't yet figured out the geometry and the logistics of doing it while she's sucking me deep into her mouth. She claims that the only times it has happened that it's been a form of simultaneous orgasm, that the feel of my come spurting deep into her throat is the trigger that has set off her own coming. It sounds unusual but it's also strangely and immensely flattering, the idea of my pleasure being so arousing for her.

We do plenty of straight fucking, too, in amongst the rest of the stuff we do. The standard missionary position is a regular part of the repertoire and she likes to ride me when I'm on my back on a bed or sitting up in a chair where I can suck her tits while I pump up into her and she braces her feet and moves her cunt up and down on my cock.

I think our favorite position is probably doggy-style, though. I've always said that I'd love to take a survey amongst the most experienced and energetic fuckers of the world and I'm convinced that the results would show doggy-style as the hands-down favorite over any other position by a fairly wide margin when it comes to simple penetration fucking. Sure, it's hard to manage a really good kiss and it's impossible to maintain one when you do manage it but the penetration is absolutely the best and there's a certain underlying psychological stimulus in the posture that's just hard to beat. Men like to fuck like they're dominating and women really like to be just fucked hard and done to and there's nothing like being on your hands and knees and getting pounded hard like that to help you feel like you're really being just plain fucked. It's the best position for pure piston-pumping action and, at the point of my orgasm, I always feel that I am most in control of my thrusting and most able to enjoy and ride the sexual release when I'm crouched over her back, holding onto her hips and watching my cock disappear, over and over again, deep inside her. Anyway, you can always kiss before and after and when you're doing other things so it may be a loss but it's not the end of the world. Whenever we've been playing and fucking for a while and it feels like time to just get to it and finish, I put her on her belly and drive into her hard and fast and it's pretty much a guarantee that I'll be spraying all over the inside of her cunt within a couple of minutes if I put my mind to it and decide to go for my own release rather than focusing on making her come as I so love to do.

Having a woman come from your actions, feeling her orgasm as you ride deep inside her or use your lips and tongue on her most sensitive parts is, for me, one of the truest essences of sexual fulfillment and I'm often reluctant to let myself go until I've nearly worn out a woman's ability to have orgasms. Not all women are multi-orgasmic but, in my experience, more are than most men bother to find out about and, as a