by Ruby Madden
“Sooo… how was your trip?” Sue asked while we waited for an elevator.
“It was great. So good to get away and soak up some sunshine. Need to remember to do that more often this time of year.”
“Glad to hear it, you work so hard. We realized how much while you were out. How do you do it? Keep up with the demand?” Sue asked.
I shrugged my shoulders, “Sometimes, I really don’t know. I’ve just always been really driven. Must admit though, it can be exhausting being a type A.”
Sue grinned. “Soooo… did you have any fun, of a certain kind?”
Thankfully the elevator arrived, allowing for some privacy when we stepped inside. There was only one other person in it, an Asian businessman who was very engaged in his cell phone conversation, speaking rapidly in Korean.
“Let’s just say there were a lot of potentials, but none really worked out. More to bad timing or what not. Schedules not coordinating. You know how it goes…” I said.
“Darn!” Sue said.
“Agreed.” We both laughed.
Sue was privy to and fascinated by my open lifestyle. I wasn’t currently in a committed relationship and even if I was, I’d learned in my twenties that I liked variety when it came to sexual play partners. I played safe, was highly selective and discreet. I had a vivid imagination and a high libido. I loved sex. I’d never been very inclined to be a one-man type of woman.
“Well, we’re sure glad you’re back. I didn’t think I could stand another moment of Harry pretending to be top dog while you were gone. He was obnoxious. Completely obnoxious.”
I nodded in response.
Harry had been after my position as Director for two years now. He was a patient one, waiting to topple me over. I admired his ambition and was indirectly grooming him, but the ivy-league educated San Franciscan male elite never could quite conquer what I was an expert at – developing relationships with clients, delivering and often exceeding their expectations.
My MBA from Stanford was really just the cherry on top of a business-aptitude sundae that came naturally to me. I’d learned the art and trade of business acumen from my Grandfather and his three thriving enterprises. From the time I was five years old, he’d have me come hang out in his offices and would give me projects to work on. I grew up knowing the names of his employees and especially, his secretary, Ruth.
In time, I’d learn that Ruth was a big part of the success equation in his endeavors. Ruth kept him organized and on top of things. She equally doted on me, spotting that I had the same type of drive and ambition that my grandfather had.
Business school had been a breeze, I’d focused equally on management, finance and marketing. Even with all of my experience and education, I was lucky to work for the organization I did. Most thought I should be in business for myself but I actually only wanted limited responsibility to a corporate venture.
I was happy in my role as a Director for the company. I had just the right amount of authority I needed, just enough employees working under me and when needed, could defer to my boss, a V.P., who was a good individual to take cover under.
Harry was a placement I hadn’t made. He was the CEO’s nephew. A family favor.
Our CEO, himself had asked me to groom Harry. I’d agreed to on one condition; the anytime I wanted to bow out of the ‘favor’, it would be understood as to why. Harry’s success and achievement needed to come from his own efforts, not by being corporately coddled by my team.
He’d done reasonably well, but his overblown ego was his main problem. In his late twenties, I knew he still needed some life experience to ripen. Otherwise, he’d never make it as a senior manager, let alone an executive.
Entitlement syndrome.
The elevator doors opened and we strolled several blocks to the food-truck section of downtown. I ordered from my favorite Thai spot. We found a bench nearby and went about eating our lunch. The weather was a bit brisk, but thankfully the sunshine was balancing the wind.
Just another day in San Francisco.
“What about you? How was your holiday?” I asked Sue, picking up the conversation.
We shared comfortable lulls in our ongoing chats, work and otherwise. Sue was one of my secret assets. A complete natural at sourcing what I needed when I needed. She was no longer just a co-worker but a good friend. We managed to balance the demands each required and had known each other for three years now.
“It was a decent Holiday. Honestly, the older I get, the more I just want to curl up on the sofa, watch movies, drink bourbon and sleep in.”
I laughed. “Cheers to that.”
We tapped our plastic water bottles to each other. Sue’s phone chirped and she tended to a text. “Sorry, it’s my hubby.” She explained as her thumbs began to furiously tap out a response.
I watched passerby’s, chewing in silence, balancing my pad-thai container on my lap and dishing up noodles with chopsticks.
Ryan, my sexy online, soccer man came to mind again. He lived in Santa Barbara, I lived in San Francisco. I wanted to meet him, possibly play with him. I wondered when my schedule would open up for a quick trip and drive down the 101, along Pacific Coast Highway.
Although he certainly stirred me erotically, I was pleasantly surprised to find that he was also capturing my interest otherwise – something that sadly, very few men did for me these days. Having played the field and knowing all the tricks, I was used to too many men who didn’t appreciate the depth of an erotic connection that comes from knowing a lover on other levels besides just sexually.
“Ok, done. Sorry about that.” Sue said, pulling me out of my lusty daydream. I noticed a pained look on her face.
“Everything okay?” I asked, genuinely worried. Sue wore her emotions plain as day on her face.
“Yeah. Well, sorta…” Sue said hesitantly.
“Uh-oh, what’s going on?” I asked.
Sue grimaced a bit and then put down her chopsticks before taking the bite she was just about to eat. “He’s been cheating on me, online.”
Stunned, I did my best to acknowledge what she said with some genuine shock. Truthfully, I’d seen this coming for a while now. “Oh dear. How are you doing?”
She teared up a bit, “Not so good. I was astonished at the stuff he was looking at online. It was… surprising. Very upsetting.”
I shook my head, being supportive. “Like what?” I asked.
Sue looked around us, checking to see if anyone we knew from work was around. It was lunch-hour, after-all.
“He has a cyber-Mistress.” She said in a hushed voice, full of hurt. “Do you know what that is?”
I had to keep from smiling. I did know, I happened to know a lot about cyber-Mistresses.
“Ah.” I said.
“Right? Who does that?!” Sue pleaded, confused.
“He does, apparently. So, this cheating – solely online, not in the flesh?” I asked.
Sue looked at me, studying my reaction, looking for guidance, but also a bit upset with me. I could tell. “If I dare trust what he has told me, then yes. Solely an online thing.”
I nodded. “I’d trust him. Don’t get mad at me, but I think this may be a good thing for the two of you. Just hear me out…”
“What?! A good thing?” Sue exclaimed.
She practically spat back my words at me, understandably upset. I was prepared for this reaction. It was typical. Normal. To be expected.
I let her sit there, festering on her anger. Which I knew was rooted in fear and the sadness of betrayal. I wasn’t going to react. I’d wait. I knew she’d come around. Sue already knew that I had a lot more experience when it came to sex. Committed partnerships, perhaps not. But sex and men, I got.
“Ok, dish. Why? Why do you think this is good for us?” Sue asked, exasperated.
I took a deep breath. “For starters, he came clean. Which is his way of inviting you into his private world, his fantasy-life. My guess is that he still loves
you, of course, but wants to add some spice to the love-making.”
Sue’s eyebrows raised. “He likes being dominated by an online Mistress, Cassie.”
“I know, I heard you the first time. Better an online one than a real, live one. You know, in the flesh. Be honest, why does that bother you?”
Sue looked at me like I’d suddenly grown snakes on my head. “A dominatrix! Really?! You think this is okay?”
“Come on now Sue, there are varying levels and shades of domination and submission. Are you telling me that you’ve never even been remotely curious? Not even once?” I asked.
Sue’s face was red. I’d never seen her this upset before. I decided to pull back. She may not be ready yet. I shut up and started eating again. I didn’t want to lose my friend. But I cared about her happiness too, almost more-so. This was something I was used to. I knew when those I cared for needed a swift kick in the ass. A type of wake-up call.
Like right now.
As far as I was concerned, all men use the online realm to indulge in their sexual appetites. Women too. Addiction was one thing, replacing intimacy another. But to men, it typically spoke of a healthy sexual curiosity. Humans are not designed to be monogamous creatures in my opinion. We’re more like the bonobo monkeys. Within reason.
But, this wasn’t the time for that chat. I could tell she was seriously irked with me.
“Sue, you feel betrayed. I get that. But, at least he did it online and not with someone, in person. Believe me, he could have. I think it’s sweet that he has opened up to you about this desire of his. To be dominated.” I said.
Sue stood up. “I get what you’re trying to do here. I do. I’m sorry, but I need to end our conversation. I’ll see you up there.”
Sue stormed off, her half-eaten lunch left behind. I closed the container lid. I’d take it back up with me and have my assistant take it to her. She’d be hungry later. Sue had a healthy appetite herself, as a beautiful plus-size woman. I envied her curves.
I didn’t like that I’d upset her, but I also knew her well enough to know she’d come around. Besides, I’d met Dan, her husband and had known from the get-go he was a submissive male aching to be topped by her. He loved Sue, I’d seen that clear as day. All I needed was some time. Time to wisen her up to the ways of Top/bottom partnerships.
If I knew Sue, she’d be a great Top.
{ RYAN }
Diving into my lap pool, I welcomed the first few minutes of the day with the sound of my hands and arms cutting through the water. Within a couple of laps, I’d hit my stride and have the first workout of the day done and over, thirty to forty minutes later.
Taking in large breaths of oxygen, I’d be more awake in fifteen to twenty minutes than what taking a shower and having a cup of coffee did for everyone else.
Grover, my four year old chocolate Labrador watched me keenly as I did my morning laps. He laid with his face resting on his paws, hoisted just at the pool’s edge and as I swam back and forth, observing me with devoted concern. One eyebrow would rise, then lower, the other rising to replace it.
I’m genuinely convinced that he’s life-guarding me.
Watching for any sign that his Master and owner isn’t in any form of distress or running the risk of drowning, as I’m fairly certain he’s ready to leap in at any moment to rescue me if needed. Retrieving me like a duck his breed has been trained to fish out of ponds.
Pulling myself out of the pool, I give Grover an affectionate neck and face scruff. “How’s my boy doing?” I coo at him, talking like adults do when something they love is equally cute and endearing. In a cartoon-talk voice I’d never let anyone hear me doing.
Grover gave me something akin to a sweet whine-grumble-howl indicating his displeasure at being suddenly made wet, but happy about the rub-down.
As a child, it was my dream to be an Olympic swimmer, but I never grew tall enough to have the lanky frame, very broad shoulders and long legs that my ambition required. Instead, at five foot ten inches, I found my way to soccer and never looked back. Both are passions of mine. One is extracurricular, something enjoyable that keeps me fit, healthy, sane and happy. The other had turned into me into a pro player in major league soccer. Now, I’m retired at the ripe old age of thirty-five which is surreal to me.
It would be another day of wondering what in the hell to do with myself. Something I dared not admit to anyone, certainly none of the ladies who frequent my bed.
Done with my morning laps, I snuck quietly back through the sliding glass door of my home and into the bathroom to take a shower.
Kayla was still sleeping, passed out and dead to the world in my bed, her arm draped over the edge, face buried in her pillow and a wee bit of drool coming out of the corner of her mouth that she’d be mortified by, if she knew I’d seen it.
We’d certainly had a fun night. Maybe a bit too much tequila on her part… I’d make breakfast for us both, but I knew it would be a couple more hours before she opened her pretty eyes.
I jacked in the shower despite having a perfectly sexy, very willing woman in my bed. Old habits die hard, I guess. Besides, I wasn’t thinking about Kayla giving me a delicious blowjob.
No, there was someone new on the horizon that my lusty thoughts were motivated by. Someone different. Something I’d never had a taste of before.
Done with my shower and dressed in nothing but my briefs, I set about making breakfast. Bacon, eggs with some cheese, toasted sourdough bread with butter and strawberry jam, fresh squeezed O.J. and coffee, black. In my opinion, the classics are best.
Grover sits patiently by, tail wagging slowly, waiting for a scrap of bacon here and there. I affectionately rub him beneath his ears, petting him whenever I can, between making food and preparing coffee.
I turn on my big-screen TV, muted as always, watching as the busy world wakes up and does what normal people do. I’d long figured out that I was never destined to be a ‘normal’ person. I don’t wake up at the crack of dawn to go to my corporate job. I wake up at the crack of dawn since that was just the way I am, ever since I could remember.
Sitting down to enjoy my simple meal, wearing nothing but my briefs, I sipped on my almost-too-hot coffee and type my password into my laptop. I go straight to the online hook-up dating website and am pleased to see that SF49girl has already sent me a sexy message. Along with it, an arousing shot of her ass in a very flattering, lacey G-string that cups her curvy ass-cheeks perfectly.
She’s been spunky, sexy and smart in our chat so far…
A good girl with a naughty, and what I’m sure, a kinky side as well. Her shorter, chiseled bob haircut complements her pixie-cute features. Her honey-green eyes seem all the bigger for it. A mischievous look hiding behind her gaze. She strikes me as sexual, in control and curious. I wasn’t sure, but I got the sense that she know how to play the field.
Especially to her advantage. And honestly, this intrigues me.
As I munch on my toast, I thought about what my reply would be. I want to keep her interest, but I’m not so sure about revealing my famous, albeit retired, soccer persona to her. Not yet, at least. I want to impress her, naturally but not so overtly.
Too many jocks I know do this. Put it out there that they’re a big name in the sporting world to impress a lady. Not that I think there’s anything wrong with that, just that it has a tendency to attract the same type or kind of woman.
Women who’d rather be self-identified by a successful, athlete rather than their own achievements in life. Women who enjoy doing their part to back a man, but mostly in the bedroom as his own private sexual cheerleader, stroking his ego and then some.
I’d had and played with plenty of those types.
Hell, there was even one still asleep in my bed. But you know how the saying goes. If you eat cheerios every day, you eventually tire of and get bored with your once favorite morning cereal. This had something to do with my boredom. Something my therapist helped me
realize recently.
I was maturing. Finally.
I’d grown tired of being entertained by this type of woman. In fact, he’d made me realize that my attitude about male sexual entitlement was selfish. That expecting a women to center her life, her world around men, to sexually titillate and please the male sex drive, was shallow.
Based and founded on a great deal of societal bullshit.
Very shallow.
Which I’d already figured out by my late twenties after playing the field for a decade.
I’d finally admitted it to myself, over the course of a year. A year that had included some months of consciously intended celibacy. I needed to redefine my desire, my sexual needs and that meant a cold stop, a chance to reorient and a new approach. A completely new approach.
Which had opened the door to a different type of attraction.
One that had to do with a whole, complete woman. Not some compartmentalized version of a woman. A person. Another human being who happens to be female.
What I was craving was a highly eroticized, sensual connection with a smart woman in charge and control of her life. Let’s face it, a woman who doesn’t necessarily need me but one rather, who craves me, psychologically and physically. Passionately.
Hopefully mutual. No, definitely mutual.
In the meantime, I was working on the relationship aspect of my life with my therapist. In the end, I wanted a partner. Someone to wake up to and spend a life with. Someone I could share my spoils with and spoil.
Some men call them wives. Some don’t.
For me, I recognized that like my pet, I’d be happier with a loyal, loving companion. I’d been scared to go there. Until now.
Hadn’t had much practice, ironically. Considering how much I practiced everything else in my life, the irony of it had struck me as funny.
It was time to practice.
Time to practice with the right kind of woman, a person in her own right. Independent of me, or any man for the matter. This was the type of woman I sought. And so far, SF49girl had all the traits of what I sought. And then some.
