Carolyn had sent a photo. Of her ass. That was unexpected.
“Thought you should see how your mark is still on me,” she wrote under it. And yes, I could still see the redness there. Cute and sexy, seeing that never gets old.
“Looks lovely. And owned,” I merely wrote back.
She didn’t respond immediately, and suddenly I thought my impulsive response may not have been the best one. Steph had sent me such a photo before.
Finally, she wrote back, “yes, it certainly does.”
I could see her writing for a bit, probably one of those write-a-sentence-then-delete-and-write-another things. She finally sent the seemingly highly edited note, “does Steph know about the last few days?”
“Yes, she does.”
“I see.” She then added, “would it be weird for me to talk to her?”
Steph seemed willing when I last brought it up, so I added it to the chat. “Not weird, I don’t think, here you go.” I sent her Steph’s contact information, and then added, “of course, explain who you are. I will warn her that you are contacting her.”
“Thanks.” She then added, “sir” and a smiley face.
I fired off a note to Steph, letting her know I was back in town and that Caroline was going to contact her. I hadn’t asked what Caroline intended but had assumed that it had to do with Caroline understanding things.
Steph just replied with a simple, “k.”
I laid in bed, my mind racing. Wanting to see Steph. Continuing to want to see Carolyn. I felt like I was in a wanting to have my cake and eat it too scenario.
I knew what Steph meant to me. Did I like being in this D/s scenario with her? Yes, but it was more. I think. For me it was. Five days ago, I would have said all was normal, predictable, status quo. Now, I knew something else was going on for me.
And with confusion and self-initiated conflict, I drifted off to sleep.
———
Since I had been away for the bulk of the week, I spent the morning tooling around my apartment, cleaning and such.
My phone dinged mid-morning, with a text from Steph.
“Hey B. Cn we get 2gether this am?”
“Sure S. Coming to you now?”
“Pls. :-)”
Thirty minutes later, I found myself knocking on Steph’s apartment door. She quickly opened up, grinned at me, gave me a long affectionate hug, and escorted me by hand into her small living room.
Steph not only had an amazing sense of style with regard to her own beauty, but she also seemed to have quite the knack for decorating an apartment. Bright, warm, very together, stylish — her apartment always made me feel like I was sitting in a model home of an upscale condo complex.
We settled into the couch, side-by-side.
I smiled at her silently for a moment. Her pretty eyes locked on mine, her own smile wide on her face, her cute cheeks framing either side. Her hand remained in mine even after we had settled on the couch — warm, soft, smooth. It felt great in my hand.
I felt warm and comfortable at that moment.
“I missed you,” I merely said. And I meant it. Her smile somehow got even wider. “Me too, Brent.”
We paused for another moment, drinking each other in, I guess.
“Oh, did you want to talk about something specific or just get together?”
“Oh, mostly just to get together,” she began, her eyes darting away for a moment.
I debated pushing her on what was really going on. I could tell she was a little off. And while she had always been affectionate to me, the hand holding was a bit more than usual. Just a tiny bit.
I decided to come back to that, maybe even letting her come to talking about it as she found herself to be more ready.
“Oh hey, did you hear from Caroline?”
She glanced at me for a moment, almost annoyed, but then shrugged. “Yeah,” she murmured.
“Oh, didn’t go well? I thought she just had some questions.”
Her hand slipped out of mine. This is not the way I thought things would go. “Didn’t feel like she really had just questions, Brent,” she said, her eyes focused on nothing in front of her.
“Weird,” I murmured to myself, “well what did she say?”
She sighed, slightly annoyed. She then opened her phone and scrolled to a conversation and handed it to me.
Two lines, in different colors.
“Hey Steph! This is Caroline, Brent’s fellow worker. This may be a bit odd, but he suggested I contact you to maybe have a small conversation about a new interest of mine. Answering some questions. Maybe we can chat or meet face-to-face?”
Steph’s response was right below it.
“Mb. Will get bk 2u. Things r rly busy rt now.”
I looked up at her. She spread her hands; her eyebrows raised in the “see what I am saying” look.
I was confused.
“Um, Steph, she suggested you get together and talk. I am having trouble understanding how any of that is negative.”
“You are a dude, Brent. Obviously, you don’t see it, but women speak in code. Bit odd. Small conversation. New interest. I get that code.”
“Are you sure you aren’t just, you know, creating a narrative here? One that isn’t there?”
She just narrowed her eyes and stared at me. I put up my hands in defeat. For now.
Maybe it was best if they didn’t talk. I mean I didn’t have to get them together.
But then it would actually help Caroline if Steph could give her a perspective, and honestly getting them together likely would alleviate some of my guilt. Or something.
I decided to push anyway, against my best judgment.
“Please, just try to arrange a get together with her. I don’t think those phrases mean what you think they mean.” She just stared at me, her eyes cutely narrowing a bit more.
“For me? Please?”
She sighed, “ok, I will arrange it if we just drop it and just enjoy the rest of the morning.”
“Deal.”
She smiled and nodded. I raised my eyebrows and glanced at her phone.
“Oh my God. Now? Fine.”
I watched her type out a rather aggressive response to Caroline — “Hi. Let’s get 2gether Monday 4 the ‘small conversation.’ 530 for coffee ok? Java House. Cute plc on Main”
She spread her hands in the “happy now” questioning look.
I leaned forward, kissed her cheek, and nodded, “thanks. Perfect.”
I couldn’t shake that something was off, but I got one little victory, so I was not going to push anything more on it. I just hoped she would see Caroline was not the terrible conniving person she imagined her to be.
———
“What? You didn’t respond? Why?”
It was Monday afternoon. Caroline and I had just finished our debrief meeting for the Chicago trip with the business development and operations people at our company and the two of us were the only ones left in the conference room.
“Yeah, she didn’t seem to want to meet with me, so . . . ”
“How exactly did you get that message?”
“You are a dude. Obviously, you do not see it.”
“Oh my God. Women. Seriously.”
She looked at me curiously.
“Look, just write her back. Meet her. You two just need to talk. That’s it.”
“Yeah, I don’t think so. Not into meeting people who send me messages that they do not want to meet.”
“Seriously Caroline. She is fine to meet with you.”
“No thanks Brent. Wasting hers and my time. Not my thing.” She actually took on a defiant stance, arms crossed against her chest.
I stared at her. For what felt like minutes. I wanted her to do this silly stupid thing, just like I wanted Steph to do it. And yet these two women were being so fucking stubborn.
She stared back defiantly. Stubbornly. Almost daring me to make her. And in that moment, yep, I got a little turned on.
Things just shifted. From the silly relatively unimportant disagreement. Her eyes moved from pure defiance, laced with a bit of overt confidence in her position to one of uncertainty. She was trying to read me. Seeing what I would do.
I felt compelled. A need. And so, I made my decision.
I casually put my laptop back on the conference table, my eyes staying locked on hers. She silently watched me.
I loosened my tie, unbuttoned my sleeves, and began rolling them up. Her eyes moved to my hands, her expression shifting to something more akin to intrigue and interest.
“You gonna . . .like . . .” she began, her eyes moving from my hands to my eyes. She knew what I intended to do. We hadn’t been doing this long, and we were at work, but even with those two factors, my unspoken need to ‘redirect’ her and discipline her was crystal clear for the two of us.
She seemed to have moved into a new phase — fearful with a dab of desire. Or maybe it was desire with a dab of fear.
“Here. Your office. You pick.”
She quickly picked up her own laptop, nodded her head, her lips pressed into a thin line, her eyes leaving me and looking down, and started briskly out the conference room door.
That brief exchange produced a raging erection for me, so I had to hold the laptop in front of me as I exited the downstairs conference room.
I just caught sight of Caroline very quickly disappearing up the stairs towards the offices as Hayley called out to me, “is she ok? She looked kinda flushed or something.”
I held the laptop in front of me as I faced her, feeling like an eight-year-old hiding something from his parents, “yeah, I think so.”
She looked at me curiously. Maybe it’s because I was so distracted by the thought of what likely would be happening in about sixty seconds that I couldn’t casually flirt with her, per the usual Brent.
“Listen, gotta run.” I smiled again and quickly scooted up the stairs.
The office with its rows of cubicles seemed to be void of anyone else, the meeting having ended close to 5:30 causing most if not all of my remaining co-workers to rush out the door. Well except Hayley who must have been leaving now.
Caroline seemed to have moved quickly as I didn’t see her and her office door was shut, although the light was on.
I glanced around a few more times as I quickly closed the distance to her door. No one was around.
I stood at the door, questioning it all, my fingers literally on the doorknob.
Was this risky? Damned right it was. We probably wouldn’t get fired over this, but it would cause a stir and hurt our professional reputations. But I didn’t care. I probably would later, but not at that moment.
Amusingly, I imagined she saw the shadows of my feet beneath the door, much like I saw hers in Chicago that first night. But this time, she didn’t give me a time frame. I could stay there all night, but of course I would not.
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