I handed my apartment’s keys to him and watched interestingly as he unlocked the doors. At that point in time, a very strange thought crossed my mind. I knew I would regret wasting my precious tonight if I failed to actualize this thought. Here was the summary of what I was thinking: I would implore him to help me take off my shoes because my hands were now heavy and shaking. Then I would beg him to assist me in taking off my clothes. If he agreed, I would wrap my naked body around him until he yielded to have sex with me. But if he flatly refused, I would rush to lock my bedroom’s door and throw the key into the garden outside, through the window. With that, he would have no alternative than to spend the whole night with me because my bedroom’s key had no duplicate.
My guess was right: after he helped me take off my shoes, he said, “Don’t worry, Janet, you can sleep in those beautiful clothes of yours. See you tomorrow,” he refused to undress me.
As he made a dash to leave, I called him back and said, “Won’t you give me a goodbye peck?”
“No problem about that,” he came back and held me in a tight embrace, plastering a wet kiss on my forehead instead. Before he could relax his grip, I pushed him onto my bed, ran to my bedroom’s door and locked it.
“See! This is the key to my bedroom and I am throwing it into the garden right away,” I let him know.
“Please, don’t! Don’t!” He begged, but before he could reach the doorstep where I was standing, I chucked the damn key through the louvered window. I heard a thud when it landed in the garden outside.
“Don’t be silly, Steve. Man up! I think we should spend a wonderful night together,” I said.
Moving back to the bedroom, I didn’t know what kind of power was controlling me. Or maybe it was the influence of alcohol. I peeled my own clothes piece by piece, and by the time I sat beside him on the mattress, I was completely naked.
Reluctantly, he took off his clothes as well. When he refused to remove his last boxer pants, I just grabbed the fucking thing by the edges and yanked it down. He was shy and quickly covered his hairy penis with his hands. Oh, my goodness, it was a shitty experience to have remained a virgin for so long but had sexual emotion piled up in you, like explosives, from many years of reading romance novels and watching porn or hearing true-life stories of hot romances from your close friends. It was just a pity that Steve turned out to be my victim, and I couldn’t settle for anything less than enjoying a romantic night today!
He remained motionless, and his childish behavior was driving me crazy, making me appear more dangerous to him. I grabbed his naked buttocks and gave them a sensual twitch. My mouth was wide open as I let the tip of penis touched my eager lips. When I gave it a little suck, he just moaned away. So, this idiot of a guy can feel the pleasure of sex but shy away from actively participating in it, I mumbled to myself.
I pushed him to the bed and was determined to ride him so hard by sliding his cocky penis right inside my already wet vagina. He didn’t make any unwanted resistance; he just lied there smiling and probably enjoying my actions. As I fumbled around for his penis in the dark, he pulled me closer to his chest, dipped his long tongue into my mouth. To be honest, I was enjoying that intimate kiss until, after a few minutes, it stirred some trouble in my stomach and brought up a nauseating alcoholic taste to my mouth. And before I could control what was going to happen, a powerful jet of vomit flowed out of my mouth. I vomited on his face, his chest, the bedclothes, his shirt and trousers I had hurriedly thrown on the mattress, and my clothes, too!
“I’ve got to take a quick shower,” he said. What a good way to escape from me? I thought.
I spent close to an hour to gather all the clothes and launder them using my washing machine. By this time it was already twenty minutes after midnight, and when I returned to my bedroom, Steve was already asleep, wearing my nightgown that I gave him.
I didn’t want to disturb him having discovered that he was genuinely asleep. My plan was to get a quick sex before he disappeared from my apartment the following morning.
But I was wrong: before I could get up the following day, Steve had run away. He made an escape by removing the louvers in my window. He retrieved the key I threw into the garden the night before and placed it on my pillow to save me the trouble of finding a way to get out of my bedroom the next day.
The Longest Hangover
Anyone who had dealt with a head-splitting hangover before would fully understand the hell I was going through at this moment. My two eyes were blood-shot and it appeared they would pop out of my skull anytime from now. Notwithstanding, I woke up, got dressed and headed for work.
I wasn’t surprised when Steve didn’t show up in the office on time; I was so sure he had overslept. I just hoped he could get his ass to work before Mr. Russell barged in. Or else Mr. Russell would give that ass of his a painful kick.
I was busy sorting out the files we left untouched atop of our tables yesterday, putting those files that required the CEO’s immediate attention in the priority cabinet when the intercom on the wall came buzzing.
“Human Resource Director on the line,” I heard that gentleman’s familiar voice on the other side of the line. “We’ve just been informed that Ms. Russell, our CEO’s wife passed away last night,” he was interrupted by my loud, heart-rending shout into the receiver.
“Ms. Russell passed? For goodness’s sake, what happened?” I was dumbfounded.
“According to the report reaching us, she died after a long battle with cancer,” he explained.
“Ah, the world has lost another good person,” I lamented.
“Mr. Steve Berk has been called upon by the CEO to assist him in his wife’s funeral preparations. So, he’ll not be coming to the office in the meantime,” the Human Resource Director revealed.
I had planned to call Steve’s cell phone if he hadn’t shown up by 10a.m. Knowing now that Mr. Russell had engaged him in his wife’s burial arrangements, I called him anyway to confirm if the news was true or not.
His phone rang like forty times, but he didn’t bother to pick my calls. Well, it was easy to assume he had been occupied with the things the CEO had assigned to him.
Dialing my uncle for confirmation, his words had even brought tears to my heavy eyes. “It’s true, Janet; Ms. Russell has left us. What a painful exit for a warm-hearted and nice woman?” he mourned.
By not responding to my calls, even for a minute, Steve had set off a disturbing rumination in my mind. Was he angry with me because of my desperation to make him have sex with me last night? Had I pissed him off by acting like a sex-crazed nymphomaniac? Well, I waited for his return to the office until I could precisely gauge his feeling towards me.
In the meantime I had concentrated on my job. Since I was doing what two secretaries should be doing, I was overwhelmed by the enormity of tasks at hand. The only thing that had given me some reprieve was that there was no official appointment made by people who wanted to meet with the CEO. If not, it would have been practically burdensome dealing with the volume of guests he received on a daily basis. Not to talk of making the necessary preparations for meetings, serving the guests refreshment, and cleaning up after each messy meeting.
I couldn’t get the news of Ms. Russell’s demise off my mind the whole day. Driving home after work, I kept turning up in my chest some great moments I had shared with this amazing lady. She was like an aunt to me. She became an august guest on my Commencement Day. I could still remember what she told me then after we exchanged brief pleasantries before the Commencement Ceremony began, “the next important thing for you now is to find a nice guy,” she said. “Please choose the right one, because that is the person you will spend the rest of your life with,” she gave me that wise advice.
On an impulse to discover more about this wonderful woman, I had explored her business website. The bulk of information that greeted my eyes was stunning. She had been a model from age ten; she turned a professional fashion model at fifteen; with a good body and a very ma
gnetic face, she had befriended many famous people across the universe by age twenty-eight—my current age! She was also a successful businesswoman and a generous philanthropist.
I decided to take some fresh air at the small garden outside my apartment. No longer did I perch on a stool than one annoying neighbor, a Spanish tourist guy jut his head out of his window. A quite lousy person!
“Yesterday’s night was rollicking, wasn’t it?” He asked, guffawing. “You made me jealous: I wished I were that very lucky guy,” he said.
His words were both amusing and irritating.
“How did it go last night? Hot?” He asked and I couldn’t help smiling.
“If you don’t know that you’re invading into my private life, I’ll call the police on you,” I tried to scare him.
“Please, don’t call the police! I’ll behave appropriately. I’m just trying to make my mind known to you that I like you,” he said, looking quite serious.
“Whatever your reasons, just stop shouting from the rooftop. Be civil in your approach,” I said. I didn’t know why I even decided to engage him in rare chit-chat today. Maybe because I seemed to appreciate, silently, his continued interest in me, unlike those chameleon-like guys I had met and dated these past weeks. Though that admiration wouldn’t compel me to the point of opening my legs for him; at least, I think I owned him simple exchange of courtesies at times.
I wondered why I did not hit bed right after returning from work. This could have been as a result of the heaviness in my heart due to the passing of Ms. Russell. Lying on the sofa and watching a funny episode of Sex and The City, I did try to call Steve again to say hello and to inquire about the progress of the funeral arrangements for the CEO’s wife. Again, his phone rang endlessly until I got fed up calling him.
At this junction, I knew that something was definitely amiss, going by the way Steve was behaving. Once again, I couldn’t cease wondering if he had found my actions the night before to be detestable and unacceptable to his person. But how could I make amends for any wrongdoings when he had chosen to absolutely ignore me and my calls? He needed to tell me in plain words the bad thing he thought I had done. Then I could apologize accordingly. But his silence didn’t help matters in any way.
After trying his phone for two to three weeks without success, I made up my mind to wait until he would eventually return to work as Mr. Russell was billed to resume his official duties a week later.
A Little Talk After Lunch
It was impossible to enjoy a sound sleep the night before Mr. Russell and Steve were scheduled to return to the office. Instinctively, I began to worry about how much Steve had revealed to him about our relationship. I knew these two men were very close, and men, as the saying goes, have no deep heart to hide a big secret away for a long time. My fear bordered on the indignation that would arise in Mr. Russell knowing that Steve and I were on the verge of enjoying a wonderful sex, if not that the circumstance beyond our control emerged.
The daily board meeting this morning was very brief because the CEO had a backlog of pressing issues he would be attending to.
“Please, send my sincere gratitude to every worker in your department that attended my wife’s funeral. I thank you all for your time and show of love,” the CEO had told all directors of the different departments in the bank.
After the meeting, I gathered the CEO’s files in my arm and deposited them on his massive mahogany table in the order of urgency. He jerked his head up from the newspapers he was reading and spoke to me in an unusual quiet manner. “We’ve got a little talk after lunch today, Janet,” he said.
We’ve got a little talk after lunch today, Janet. This thought-provoking statement kept reverberating in my head as I went about my regular routines.
There were thousands of important questions in my mind begging for quick answers at the moment: Where was Steve? Why hadn’t the CEO told me anything about him despite knowing that we worked together? Was Steve sick and couldn’t make it to work only for today? It would amount to telling a blatant lie to say that my mind wasn’t on fire throughout lunch. There was no way I could predict what was coming. I was alone in this dilemma: if Steve had been around, it would have brought me some relief because I could pick his brains by asking some cogent questions. But his absence had only aggravated my nightmare. How could I find out how much Mr. Russell had known about our relationship? Obviously, my life was in shambles.
After lunch, I trundled into the CEO’s office before he could invite me over.
“It’s good you’ve decided to show up earlier than I had planned. Anyway, take your seat, Janet,” he motioned me to the seat across from him.
“Let me start by thanking you for all you’ve done for my family and me in the past weeks. We appreciate your kindness for standing with us during our trying times,” he said.
It looked like those words were being forced out of his mouth as he spoke with perceptible reluctance.
I felt an urge to ask him where was Steve. But some unseen forces had choked me so that I couldn’t bring forth the question. When I attended Ms. Russell’s burial, Steve was nowhere to be found, either. What a great surprise!
“You may be wondering why Steve has not resumed his duties. I’m sorry to inform you that I had fired him,” His bushy eyelashes raised in a what-is-your-business-about-that pose. I got that unfriendly message, but I subsequently remained silent and unmoving. I sat upright like a pole of concrete. My head felt heavy with anger, but I tried all I could not allow that anger to becloud my personal judgment.
After a long silence that confirmed the tediousness of the circumstance surrounding the two of us, Mr. Russell continued to amaze me with his unexpected revelations.
“Steve lacks good moral judgment: he acted in the manner unbecoming of a professional we want here,” he said, speaking in what I would refer to as parables, since he avoided hitting the matter straight on its head. Why couldn’t he say in clear terms why he had decided to give Steve the sack?
“And this ignoble action of his that got him fired was closely connected with you,” he dropped a bombshell, licking his dry lips.
My heart stopped momentarily when the full weight of his last statement struck my mind. Nothing to hide anymore; Steve had let out the big secret! That sonofabitch had destroyed my life and career. My heartbeat increased dangerously as I could feel how warm blood raced around my heart’s veins. Oh, my goodness, I would definitely pass out if no one came to rescue me from this monster of a man’s office! Was he going to fire me, too?
“However, I have decided that your job won’t be affected by this incident,” he assured, and I had involuntarily let out a loud sigh of relief.
“Steve broke his marital vows by engaging in an extramarital affair with you,” Mr. Russell revealed, a devilish smile playing at the corners of his mouth. What! Did you mean Steve wasn’t single as he had told me? Questions were pumping up my chest, but I had cleverly avoided showing any obvious sign that I truly admired and loved Steve. Because all those sweet thoughts about him had immediately disappeared the moment I realized that he was nothing but a fucking liar and a betrayer. A godless traitor!
“Here’s the picture of Steve and his beautiful wide—a Mexican lady,” he offered it to me but I didn’t take the picture from him. I was so sad to touch anything of his.
“I’m sure he had coaxed you into believing that he was single and was ready to marry you, “ Mr. Russell said. “And I can also say that you’ve made a grave mistake for letting him mess you up like that,” he was probably referring to our near sexual encounter as a “mess-up”.
Mr. Russell had brought out another picture from the folder on his table: it was a picture of Steve and I curling up beside each other on my small bed, naked.
“I understand why you put yourself through these kinds of annoying experiences, dating a druggie and sleeping around with a married guy: it is because you are desperately looking for that great guy to take a good care of you,” he stop
ped to monitor my reactions. And where there was none, he continued: “If you badly needed a help, Janet, always remember that I can help you, anytime anywhere,” he told me.
What kind of help did he think I needed? A bullshit romantic partner?
I left his office wounded, defeated and badly bruised. My previous self-confidence had completely crumbled. My previous ebullient nature had evaporated and I now became a sad person with an unfriendly frown flashing on my face every now and then.
But I was glad when my application for a two-week holidays was granted without any delay. If there was anything I badly needed, it was this two-week vacation to re-invigorate and reinvent myself, and not your crumpled penis, Mr. Russell!
On Becoming A Whore
I ran to my outer door as the doorbell tolled. And I was so happy to see Hillary keeping to her promise to drop by despite the heavy downpour on this Saturday morning.
“Girl, you’re living large. What a beautiful apartment you’ve got here!” She shouted in admiration of my cute but small apartment.
“Thank you. But as you know, it costs fortune to maintain a place like this. And I must tell you the truth: its rent per month is driving me crazy,” I confessed.
Hillary plonked down her huge ass on the sofa beside me. She tenderly draped my shoulders with her long, right arm and said in an emotion-laden voice, “Girlfriend, I believe you’ve gone through a lot of mess lately. One thing that excites me is that you haven’t handled all of these happenings wrongly. Some hopeless girls could have taken to drugs or become irredeemably aggressive,” she gave me an unusual compliment.
I served Hillary her favorite chiffon cakes and a glass of cherry juice.
“This cherry juice is a scam,” she began in her funny pejorative manner. “I think it tastes like a pineapple juice,” she complained.
Wall Street Blues (Swashbuckling Romance) Page 4
