Death by Fucking
This story is © 2005 by Andrew Wiggin and
is not to be reprinted without the expressed written consent of the
author. It contains sexual situations that are to be read by readers
above the legal age of consent. It is not to be read in locations where
such stories are illegal, even ones as innocuous as this one.
Note: This story contains quotes and paraphrased references from popular
culture. The author uses these quotes and references because it amuses him to
do so and because he has no life. I leave it as an exercise for the reader to
identify any quotes that may have been used. If you are interested in
learning what quotes were used, you may request a copy of the crib sheet by
emailing the author at [email protected]
Chapter 1 Chemical
Attractors: Andrew’s Story
There can’t be such a thing as love as first sight. That’s certainly
impossible, regardless of what you’ve heard. People are mistaking love
for lust. I believe lust at first sight happens occasionally. I’m
an eyewitness.
I talked to her long
before I physically met her. The first time I talked to her on the phone
I hoped her voice was reflective of her looks. I saw a movie recently
where a guy got off of the phone with a woman he had never met and said that
she was ‘audibly blonde’. When I talked to Deirdre on the phone I thought
she was audibly fuckable. I’ve never had that happen before. I made
a simple business call, asked to talk to someone who had called my office
requesting me while I was out. I was returning a call, for crying out
loud. I wasn’t expecting a life-altering experience with a simple phone
call.
Deirdre was with a consulting firm that was supposed to tell my company how to
do its business. Our company has only been in business for 55
years. Why should we know how to do our job? It was obvious we
needed someone to come in to tell us what we were doing wrong. Deirdre
was a consultant with Brown and Raymond Management Consultants. I was one
of the liaison guys who were supposed to give BRMC the lowdown on how things
worked. Then they were going to tell us what to downsize, who to
downgrade, how to cut expenses and generally fuck up the atmosphere in a
previously great place to work. I think I can safely say that only upper
management in our firm thought kindly of BRMC.
I reluctantly returned Deirdre’s call. It was my job, after all. I
was to cooperate in everyway possible with the BRMC team. The lady called
me. I called her back; simple as that. I hate those voice mail
systems that a lot of companies have installed in the last decade. They
are a major indicator of the decline of the quality of life in our country,
generated in part by an over dependence on technology. Just because we
can do it doesn’t mean it should be done. Fuck voice mail.
After dealing with
“please listen carefully because our menu options have changed” and blah, blah,
blah, I finally reached a real person. She answered the phone “Deirdre Martin”.
I didn’t know that I was about to be hit by a truck.
Our company is located in
the mid-west. We aren’t near to being a Fortune 500 company, but we are
publicly traded and have over 5000 employees in three facilities, two in
I’m the fair-haired
boy. I’m a department head, even if it is only a small department.
I’m the youngest department head in the company. The next youngest
department head is twenty years older than me. She’s forty-five, so that
makes me twenty-five. I’m in charge of software development for our
process control division. I also have a hand in some web-site development
and in supporting some people in our general area who don’t have time to wait
for the IT department to actually respond to their requests.
I have three arrogant
little pricks working for me as software developers. They’re all
teenagers, right out of high school. Some jerk-off in Human Resources
heard that in today’s market you either farm your software development out to
I have my own axe to
grind. I’ll admit it. These BRMC guys are coming in here to tell us
how to do business, but I already know what it’s going to take. We’ve got
to get a real internet presence and start conducting eBusiness. We are in
the Stone Age in computing terms. We have a “calling card” kind of
internet presence. We don’t have our customers on-line for purchasing and
delivery info. We don’t try to sell our products on the net. We
could be targeting new markets. We could be moving into the 21st
Century. Instead we’re using the tried and true same old method of doing
business, while everyone else is trying something new. Eventually we will
be shit out of luck. At least that’s my opinion.
So I’m one of the guys
who are dealing with BRMC. I have nothing else on my plate except trying
to clean up half a dozen almost completed projects that will not go live till I
have debugged them and given them a professional look. These kids
wouldn’t know a professional look if it came up and bit them on the ass.
Deirdre Martin has the
kind of voice that turns my knees to putty. She speaks with a Southern
drawl, but she certainly has been influenced by her time in the North, because
it’s not as strong an accent as I’ve heard from other people from
Her voice was
magic. It’s a kind of little girl’s voice, soft and charming. There
was laughter in it, and sultry sexiness. My secretary walked into my
office while I was on the phone with Ms. Martin. She stood waiting for me
to finish.
When I hung up, I
just shook my head and said, “Wow! That woman is audibly fuckable.
She has the greatest voice I’ve ever heard. What a Southern accent!
Maybe this assignment won’t be as bad as I had thought.”
My secretary, a very nice
but rather dumpy 48 year old-mother of four shook her head at my
language. “Drew, please don’t use language like that unless you plan to
back it up. Besides, she’s probably an elderly black lady.”
“Thanks, Carol, for
bursting my bubble. Well I’ll see it when I believe it; or vice
versa. This woman is going to be a goddess. In a just universe, a voice
like that would have to be attached to a heavenly body. Please,
universe. Be just!”
Over the course of a week
or two, Deirdre and I exchanged emails, faxes, databases, spreadsheets, all the
paraphernalia that are the hallmark of the modern business
world. I even slipped in some of my own ideas about
developing an internet presence designed to keep us current with standard
business practices. I figured it wouldn’t hurt.
We became friendly over
the phone. She had a great voice, but I never forgot that her voice
belonged to a potential enemy. Maybe a potential ally, too, and you can
never have too many allies, especially ones who are going to have a major say
in how your company is going to be run. It was a sticky political situation.
I was in a position to push my own agenda if I were able to catch Deirdre’s
ear. Sure, I would benefit from that, but I really believe that it’s a
good course for the company to follow.
We did all of this
preliminary legwork, but the real work was to begin when Deirdre spent two to
three weeks at our plant to learn first hand how things worked and what our
methods and problems are. I was to spend two to three weeks in a room
with Deirdre. The thought occurred to me that this could be heaven
or this could be hell. What if she doesn’t look like her voice?
Well, I could live with that. That’s only my wishful thinking at
work. I really had no reason to believe that my relationship with Deirdre
Martin was going to be anything but professional. She might be able to
help me professionally. She might be able to emasculate me
professionally. She wielded power over me. That was an
uncomfortable thought.
It was a Monday
morning. I was a few minutes late (a tractor trailer flipped over while
making an exit off of the interstate and everything was a mess – that was the
story I planned to tell). When I got in Carol told me that Deirdre was in
the conference room waiting for me. I took a deep breath and marched to
my potential fate.
Deirdre was sitting at
the conference table when I entered, and rose to greet me. I was
stunned. She had stolen Joanne Woodward’s face: the young Joanne
Woodward, the Joanne Woodward of “The
Our hands touched.
She shook my hand in a friendly business-like greeting, but I was suffering
from sensory overload.
I need to interject a
crackpot theory I’ve been working on. It’s a theory I developed because
my most sacredly held beliefs are now being challenged, and I need something to
meet that challenge head-on or I may see the total destruction of my belief
system.
It’s a chemistry
thing. That’s what it is. It must be; chemistry and physics,
too. Electricity comes in there somewhere. Our hands touched and it
was like I had come home. A simple hand shake, but every point of contact
seemed to be an energy source. Her skin is like velvet: soft, very soft,
smooth and tanned: velvety. Something in her skins cells, some
chemical, some DNA thing, some hormone or whatever, attracts like-minded somethings in my skin cells.
My theory is this:
certain people are chemical attractors to certain other people. Their
body’s chemistries are meant for each other, attract each other like iron to a
magnet: some kind of endorphin thing, maybe. Her endorphins fit into my
receptors. Something fit into my receptors, because I was receiving big
time.
That touch was the most
exciting instant I had experienced in my life. I didn’t know what had
come over me. This was a simple damn business meeting with a person who
might have life or death power over my job, and I was acting like a love struck
teenager. I could feel myself flush. My breathing became a little
labored. I was lost in her eyes, holding her hand. Worst of all, my
erection went from 0 to 60 in five seconds. If she had been standing any
closer to me it would have knocked her over. As it is, I think she had to
jump to get out of the way.
I was in a situation
here. I couldn’t seem to let go of Deirdre’s hand. I have no idea
if I was saying anything to her or was merely making little gurgling noises in
my throat. My ears were buzzing, so I couldn’t hear much anyway.
Deirdre gently removed
her hand from mine and sat back down. I came to my senses and took a seat
opposite her at the conference table. Checking her out I
could see that she was older. I couldn’t guess her age. She could
be a mature twenty-five or an extremely well-preserved forty. Somewhere
between 25 and 40 was my guess. She got right down to business as if she
weren’t facing a semi-crazed stranger with an erect cock.
I could see instantly she was way out of my class. I had absolutely no
hope of getting close to this woman. She was beautiful. She was
smart. She had a big time job, probably making four times as much as I
made. She had those eyes. But she was out of my class. I felt
like the high school nerd looking at the head cheerleader with envious eyes,
knowing that he had no chance to ever get close to that magnificent
creature.
I knew she was unattainable and that helped me regain my self-control.
Okay, I said to myself. Okay, enjoy being around her. That’s all
that can come of this. You can spend some time with the most magnificent
thing you’ve ever been around. Just don’t get involved, because no
involvement is possible. Talk about whistling past the graveyard.
We talked. We talked business. I had trouble concentrating at
first, but then I learned I could effectively focus on the business information
we were trying to glean while at the same time keeping my total attention on
Deirdre. We sat there all morning talking about this department or that,
various reports that I had given her and the meaning of some of the trends
those reports highlighted. And the whole time, through it all, I
maintained a hard-on.
My face was stoic through it all. I never let my emotions show on my
face. I’ve been studying Mr. Spock since I was a kid, and I know how to
turn a Vulcan face to things. After my first indiscretion of acting like
a child (well, a child with a hard dick) when we first met, I thought I had
done a good job of staying on task, giving her the things she needed for her to
do her job properly.
But it was hard.
She was a continual distraction to my attention. I wanted to memorize
everything about her. From her point of view, I was a little kid with a
questionable education, and maybe she was thinking that I’ve risen as high on
the corporate ladder as I was ever going to rise. It took me a while to
integrate my logical cogitations of things into my emotional being. But I
finally did it. I finally knew deep down that she was desirable,
eminently desirable, but entirely unreachable. My entire body finally understood
that. Well, all of my body understood it except one 8-inch tube of
unquenchable lust. It just wanted to fuck her.
Two days passed. We
were making progress, but I could tell she was getting uneasy with my
distractibility. And I had maintained an erection for the entire time she
was in the room with me. I couldn’t help it. On Tuesday and
Wednesday I wore looser fitting pants, just so it wasn’t so obvious what was
going on down there. It didn’t make any difference. It was obvious
anyway. I was hard. Nothing could change that.
I want to tell you this
was not fun. I was in an agony of unfulfilled arousal. Wednesday
morning was a replay of Tuesday and Monday. I was distractible, nervous,
ill at ease, and generally doing a less than perfect job as an interface
between the company and BRMC.
Deirdre had lunch with
another BRMC person who was working in another area of our building. I
sat at my desk with a sandwich and wished I was dead.
We met again in the
conference room after Deirdre had come back from lunch. I was waiting for
her when she entered the room, sitting at a laptop trying to get some numbers
together while I was free to act outside the range of Deirdre’s female
pulchritude. She came into the conference room, gave me a wan little
smile, and then closed and locked the door. Uh, oh, I thought. Here
it comes. She’s had the shits of me.
Deirdre looked at me, not
unkindly and said, “Andrew, we have to talk.”
Everyone calls me
Drew. I guess the only person in the world that calls me Andrew is my
mother. And now Deirdre calls me Andrew. It was one more
distraction I didn’t need. I tried to get my head together.
“What’s the problem,
Deirdre?”
“Andrew would you rather
not work with me? You’ve been a bundle of nerves since Monday
morning. I’ve been assured by your business associates that you are
normally a calm and confident person. I enjoy working with you, but I get
the feeling you would rather be anywhere in the world than here.”
I quickly shook my
head. “That’s not true, Deirdre. I enjoy working with you!”
Wait a minute. Maybe I said that a little too forcefully.
She gave another sad
little smile. “We have to talk, Andrew. I need to know what the
problem is between us. We’ve got a big job to do. There are a lot
of people depending on us. We can’t allow some small conflict between us
interfere with the progress of our project. If you don’t like me I can
deal with that. I talked to Bob Simon over lunch, and he agreed to
exchange liaison people if we feel it necessary. Melissa Thomas could
work with me, and you could work with Bob.”
I felt a surge of
panic. I was screwing this thing up so badly that Deirdre couldn’t even
work with me anymore. That will look great on my record. Worse, it
would mean I couldn’t spend my days with Deirdre. Talk about a disaster
of biblical proportions!
“Deirdre, it isn’t like that at all. There is no one I would
rather work with than you.”
There. That didn’t sound too bad. I wasn’t falling all
over myself slobbering on her like a schoolboy. I’d made a simple
statement of fact, spoken with practically no inflection. I wasn’t
throwing myself at her. I merely was saying that I liked working with her
and would prefer to keep it that way.
I could tell that Deirdre
wasn’t buying. “What’s the problem, then? Either you are the most
nervous person I’ve ever met, or something else is wrong.
I was in a corner,
looking for a way out. Coming clean with this woman just wasn’t an
option. First, she’s way out of my league. Second, we are business
associates. Third, there is such a thing as sexual harassment. That’s
three strikes. All I could do was look unhappy and claim that everything
was fine.
“Andrew, you’ve got
to talk. I don’t want to switch partners with Bob, but I will if I have
to. This job is too important.”
I guess I looked
miserable. I said, “Deirdre, I’m afraid that my problems aren’t work
related. They have nothing to do with the work that we are doing.
They certainly aren’t caused because I don’t enjoy working with you. It’s
just something I will have to deal with myself.”
“Now Andrew, we’ve known
each other for weeks. I know we only met in person the other day, but
don’t you feel enough confidence in me that you can let down your guard a
little? I promise that whatever you say will be held in the strictest of
confidences. I won’t hold it against you.”
I muttered “Yeah,
sure.” I knew better. But what could I do. I was damned if I
did, and damned if I didn’t. Nothing I could do or say or not do or not
say would make this situation better. It’s difficult to speak when you
know that what you say is going to make you look like a complete jackass.
“Deirdre, I’ll
talk. But I’m holding you to your word. You said you wouldn’t hold
it against me, and I’m counting on you to mean it. I’m harmless.
You’ve got to believe that I don’t have a mean or aggressive bone in my
body. I’m not the kind of person to become fixated on another
person. I’m an easy going guy. That’s my story and I’m sticking to
it.”
Deirdre again gave that
little half smile of hers. “Okay, you’re harmless. I never thought
otherwise. So where is this leading?”
I guess the only option I
had open was to tell her my theory. “It happened when we shook hands on
Monday. Something magical happened to me. Only it wasn’t
magic. I theorize that it has something to do with your skin. I was
predisposed to react to you favorably, I’ll admit that.
“Your voice is like
music. I’d been kidding around with my secretary for weeks, wondering
what kind of body would be attached to such a voice. But I wasn’t like
obsessed with your voice or anything. I just thought it was a fabulous,
fabulous voice.
“I was excited to meet
you because of that, but otherwise I had no preconceptions about you, I had no
contingency plans in case your person lived up to the impossibly high standards
of your voice. Carol had me half convinced that you were a sixty year-old
black woman.
“And then I met you and
you were beautiful. Okay, I could deal with that, happily. It just
meant that for the next three weeks I had someone very easy on the eyes and
ears to work with. I was happy as a clam. But then you
smiled. Deirdre, your smile is unfair to men. When your eyes lit up
like they did, I was mesmerized. Don’t try to tell me that you don’t know
what I’m talking about. Men would probably die for the opportunity to
look into your eyes. I know I would. But I could have survived even
that. It was your touch.”
“When you touched me I
was a lost cause. It has to do with your body chemistry, I think.
Something in your physical makeup fits perfectly with something in my physical
makeup, at least from my perspective.”
“It’s an addiction, I
guess. Whenever I’m near you this chemical attraction seems to take over
from my normal self. Suddenly you’re all I can think about. I’m
sorry, Deirdre. Don’t be concerned. I’m not a stalker or
anything. I may appear to be obsessed with you. I guess I am
obsessed with you.”
“But you never have to
worry about me stepping outside of ethical boundaries. I’m telling you
this because you insisted that I tell you. In a way I’m glad I told you,
because someone like you deserves to hear every day of her life how incredible
she is, how alluring, how attractive, how totally enchanting.“
“I won’t say another word
about this. You don’t have to worry about any trouble from me. I’m
a feminist, would you believe? I’m strongly opposed to sexual harassment
in the workplace.”
“Please believe me; I
never intended to make you uncomfortable. I have no expectations
whatsoever of you. If it’s okay with you, I would like to carry on our
business as usual. I would consider it a real favor if we could just let
this whole thing fade away”, I finished desperately.
Deirdre had this
enigmatic look on her face. I was resigned to my fate, regardless. I had
thrown myself on the mercy of the court. It was out of my hands.
“Andrew, do you realize
that I’m thirty-five years old? I’m ten years older than you.”
“Deirdre, you might be a
million years old. You’re ageless, timeless. You’re the Mona
I had opened my mouth and
all these words came pouring out. I didn’t think them through.
These were the thoughts that had been running around my brain for three
days. She asked me to say them and I said them. If nothing else
ever came of it, at least I had my say.
I’m afraid that this
wasn’t what Deirdre was expecting. I guess maybe she thought I had a
little crush on her, and she could defuse it with a few kind words. But
now she could see that this was far more serious than she had previously
thought.
“Andrew, I’m just some
old lady who, let’s be frank, could carry a lot of clout with your
employers. Is that it? Do you think you can flatter me in order to
improve your position? Well, buster, you better believe that isn’t going
to happen.” I could see she was making herself angry.
“Hold on, Deirdre.
You made me talk, remember? It never occurred to me that you could help
me if I flattered you. I figured you could get me fired, though.
That’s part of the reason that I kept my mouth shut. The rest of the
reason is just that you’re way out of my league. You’re a step way up in
class from me. You’re that unreachable star that people sing about.
I know that to you I’m just a little kid. If you want me to be honest
with you I will. I’m the best. I’m the best person working in this
company. I’m the only one I know who sees where we could be going.
Most of these other guys are just old farts with no vision. I like them,
don’t misunderstand me. I don’t hold them in contempt, or anything.
I just know that of the management group here, I’m at the top. But that
is damning this company with faint praise. That’s why you guys are here.
If I’m the best, we’re in trouble.”
“I’ll admit that I’ve
tried to make you aware of some of my ideas about the company’s future.
But they’re good ideas. And I would have told them to you regardless of
my feelings for you. I would have told them to you even if you were a sixty
year-old black woman. It was just business, not personal.”
Deirdre seemed to
be at a loss for words. She said, “Andrew, I’m a committed
businesswoman. I took this job knowing that I would be working 80 to 100
hour weeks, traveling all over the country; staying in hotels; never having
relationships. I don’t have relationships. I don’t have time for
relationships. And I’m almost old enough to be your mother. You’re
a very sweet boy. I really like you. I do. But I don’t have
relationships.”
“Deirdre I already told
you I have no expectations of anything from you. I’ve known all along
that nothing would develop between us. You’re from an entirely different
planet from me. I can’t help my body’s reaction to you. Believe me,
if I could stop it I would. It’s a chemical attraction that’s beyond my
ability to control. “
“It’s no fun knowing that
the woman of your dreams is totally beyond your reach. I know that in a
few weeks you’ll be gone. Maybe it will assuage your ego a bit knowing
that somewhere there is a young man who loves you passionately and
forever. But nothing is expected of you, nothing is required or
requested. But let me say that there is no way you can hide behind this
age thing. I know you’re busy. I know you are married to your
job. I know that you went to Duke and I went to
Deirdre actually smiled;
not a little half smile, but one of those smiles that turns on some kind of
switch and suddenly her eyes sparkle. When she does that I’m helpless.
“I think that it would be
wise for us to try to resolve the short term situation. Our first
obligation is to finish this project on time and under budget. I’m a
management consultant. You’re a systems analyst, Andrew, between the two
of us we should be able to come up with a solution that will make us both
comfortable.”
How women can change
gears like that is a mystery to me. I’m here pouring my heart out to her
and she wants to talk business. I guess it’s her way of re-establishing
boundaries.
I didn’t know what the
fuck she was thinking. I said, “I don’t have a clue. If you can
come up with some way that we can work more smoothly together, I’m all for it.”
She nodded her
head. “Good. Because I do have a possible solution we might
try. I hope you don’t find me too blunt, Andrew, but it is fairly obvious
to anyone that you’ve spent the entire week in a state of shall I say
tenseness. I don’t think I’ve ever seen a man as tense as you; and
certainly not for as long as you’ve been tense, if you know what I mean.”
I’m afraid I did know
what she meant. I wasn’t sure how I was supposed to respond to
that. I mean, how do you apologize for that sort of thing? Sorry,
Ms. Martin that I’ve had a hard-on for you for three days in a row. I
figure she has one of two possible responses to my constantly engorged
dick. One: she might think I am a sex maniac who goes through life in a
constant state of arousal no matter what. Two: maybe she realizes
that my condition was directly caused by her. How would a woman respond,
knowing a man finds her constantly arousing? She might be
disgusted. But then again, a hard-on is the sincerest form of flattery.
Maybe it doesn’t hurt her ego to know that she has it in her to make a 25 year
old man almost crazy with lust. This might have a certain appeal to
her. I resolved that henceforth I was going to be totally honest with
Deirdre. I wouldn’t hold things back for fear of whatever. I
probably will only get one shot at this, and damn it, I’ve got to go for it.
“Can I be open with you
Andrew? You’ve been honest with me and I truly appreciate it. I
can’t be in a relationship. You know that. I never become involved,
even a little involved, with my customers. That’s just bad business
practice. The possibilities for conflict of interest are endless.
That’s a major consideration. But at least as important, is that we need to get
this project done. We can’t be distracted by sexual tension. “
I could see where this
was going. “So, what are you trying to tell me? You’re saying that
I should masturbate to relieve the tension? Well honey, I’ve jerked off
ten times in the last two days. It doesn’t do any good. As soon as
you get close to me I have no control over how my body responds. It
responds on its own. It doesn’t ask me what I think of the
situation. I’m only along for the ride.”
“Don’t get testy,
sweetie. I wouldn’t ask you to masturbate, and frankly I’ve already
received more information on your masturbatory life than I care to know.
I’ll tell you some unpleasant truths about myself. I never date.
Never! I haven’t been with a man in almost three years. I miss it
desperately, but I don’t have time for relationships. It’s true. I’m
alone in strange motels more often than not. How hard would it be to walk
down to the bar, pick up some lonely businessman, and work off some
tension? That’s not who I am. Perhaps you will consider it prudish,
but I don’t do one night stands. I’ve never had sex with a man I wasn’t
at least a little in love with. It’s not prudery, really. I just
don’t enjoy sex without love. If I need to let off some of my tension, well
I can do that very well for myself. “
“But now we’re in this
situation where you are suffering from this condition, and I feel obligated to
help relieve your suffering. What I’m saying is: how would you feel about
relieving that tension the old fashioned way?” Her face maintained that
even keel smile as if she were asking me if I wanted a doughnut.
I on the other hand, knew
that my mouth was wide open. I slammed it shut before flies flew
in.
I finally found
words. “Old fashioned way? Old fashioned way!!
Yes, I would be more than willing to attempt to relieve the tension the old
fashioned way. Did you just say that, or was I imaging things?”
Deirdre reached across
the table and took my hand. God, her hand in mine was so hot it felt like
a China syndrome meltdown. It could have burnt its way to the center of
the earth. She began speaking softly, wistfully telling me about her
feelings.
“Honey, I took this job
and I never looked back. My eyes were open. I knew what I was
getting in to. But I do miss a man. You’ve touched me
somehow. It’s been a long time since I felt attracted to a man. You
seem to think this is all one sided. It isn’t. I’m not offering
myself as some sacrifice on the altar of good consulting in order to make our
group effort improve.
What was I supposed to
say? “Yes! Of course! I’ll accept any scrap that falls from your
table. I’ll hate myself in the morning, but this thing is out of my
control.”
“Okay, then. Pick
me up at my hotel tonight at
“Absolutely. Whatever you
want. Your every wish is my command.”
Deirdre smiled and said,
“In that case, my command is that you relax and we get back to
work.” As if.
After work I stopped at
home, showered and changed, then made my way to Deirdre’s hotel. I called her
cell on the way and she was waiting in the lobby when I arrived. Deirdre
is always lovely, but tonight was the first time I had seen her in something
other than a business suit.
I stood with my
mouth opened, taking in the beauty of the woman before I was able to croak out,
“You look lovely tonight”.
Deirdre smiled that smile
that ignites a beacon in her eyes and stepped forward to take my arm. Her
hotel was in the center of town so we strolled a couple of blocks to one of my
favorite haunts, a small Japanese restaurant that served exquisite food in an
atmosphere that suggested Japan but didn’t hit you over the head with it.
Deirdre had sushi and assured me it was very good. I’m not a sushi kind
of guy, but was pleased she liked it. I prefer my food
cooked. Whatever, we had a wonderful time, with an attentive but
unobtrusive waiter. We drank sake and I reveled in the chance to sit quietly
with Deirdre outside the office and just talk.
There was still tension
there. When she reached out to take my arm when I met her at her hotel,
my dick sprang to life and stayed that way through the entire evening.
She does that to me. It’s just something I’ve got to get used to, I
guess.
I loved talking to her
over dinner, but was getting very impatient by the time the waiter had asked if
we were interested in desert. She looked over the desert menu for a
second, then looked me in the eye as she said to the
waiter, “No thank you. We have something else planned for desert
tonight.”
When the waiter brought
the check I didn’t give him a chance to leave me with the bill and then pick it
up later. The money was flying from my pocket and Deirdre and I were
flying down the sidewalk almost immediately. I was practically
dragging her back to her hotel. I was desperate for her.
We were barely into her
room when I pushed her against the wall and kissed her for the very first
time. I wanted it to be a tender loving kiss; a kiss to convey the depth
of my feelings for Deirdre. But I couldn’t do it that way. My
tongue plunged down her throat. My body pressed against hers, my hands
roaming. I began to ravage her. I worked at removing her clothes.
I couldn’t get them off fast enough.
In my dreams my
lovemaking with Deirdre was gentle, adoring, romantic.
I would hold her lovely face in my hands and kiss those sweet lips.
Reality changed everything.
I had her naked. I
finally got a chance to see her lovely nudity. But I barely
noticed. I was tearing my own clothes off so fast I’m lucky they are
still intact. I had to have her. I had to have her right now!
I hurried her to her bed,
laid her down. She reached to me with welcoming arms. I wanted to
hold her and whisper sweet nothings into her ears. I wanted to slowly
explore her body from top to bottom. I wanted this to be an experience
she could never forget. That’s what I wanted.
Instead I practically
raped her. My cock found her center and forced itself into her. I
was out of my mind. I fucked that beautiful woman. I was
brutal. I pulled out, plunged in. Harder and harder I drove.
She just laid there and took it. I could see I was overwhelming
her. I wanted to slow down and take it easy. I wanted to. I
couldn’t. I hammered into her over and over again. It was a
driving, plundering, thoughtless taking of her.
I was like the first
australopithecine male who discovered pair bonding. I was
possessing her with my cock, marking her with my seed. I was
shouting from my soul that this woman belongs to me and nobody else!
I was hammering my cock
into her helpless pussy, brutally assaulting this bewitching creature.
She tried to protest initially. I heard her say, “No, wait. Ouch,
it hurts. No. No. Oh my God! Oh my God. Oh God! Oh GOD!”
Soon she stopped talking
and seemed to grunt each time my cock slammed into her. She seemed to be
screaming from time to time, I’m not sure. Then she was just making
noises that didn’t seem to mean anything, little gurgling sounds coming from
deep within her throat.
I have no idea how long
this lasted. My penis was like a piece of steel. I fucked her and
fucked her and fucked her; harder and harder and harder. Suddenly a bolt
shot through me like an electrical shock. My dick swelled within me and I
was hosing the inside of Deirdre’s pussy with my seed, pumping time and again,
deep within her. I was screaming. Deirdre was screaming. It
was primal lust.
Then it was over. I
slowly came to my senses. I was lying on top of Deirdre. She had
her eyes open, looking off to the side of the room, saying nothing, appearing
to be dazed. I suddenly realized that I had blown it. I had the
opportunity of a lifetime handed to me and I let my raw lust overcome my common
sense.
I was very upset. I
tried to explain it to her. “Deirdre, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to do
that to you. I dreamed of making love to you, tenderly, lovingly. I
had no intention of fucking your brains out. I’m sorry, Deirdre. God, I
hope I didn’t hurt you. Are you all right?”
I think Deirdre suddenly
realized that I was talking to her. “What? Am I all right?
Certainly I’m all right. Why shouldn’t I be?”
“Deirdre, I’m sorry for being
so rough, for ignoring your needs. I’ve always been a considerate
lover. Something came over me tonight. I’m not like that.
Won’t you tell me what you’re thinking?”
“Why, Andrew, I’m not
thinking anything. I have no brains.”
And then she laughed.