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   read on, and thanks for spending the time.

   I'm new at this and want to get better.  Please send me feedback at
feryk2001@yahoo.com Thanks in advance.







   I met her in my office.  She was assigned to one of the other
consultants I share space with, and there was something about the way she
moved that caught my eye.  She seemed confident, and roamed the office at
will.  Normally, a new assistant will spend most of her time at her desk,
and will only speak to a consultant if spoken to.  Not her.  She would
captivate groups of us at once, telling us flirtatious stories, flashing
her playful baby blues at us all.

   Bobbie was small.  I figured her for four foot eight, and maybe a
hundred pounds soaking wet.  We had talked a few times, but no more than
anyone else.  I found her attractive, but aside from some indirect
flirting, had not really felt any chemistry .  She had mentioned she was in
a committed relationship, and the scuttlebutt around the office was that
the guy was loaded.  She had mentioned that she lived in the top floor of a
very expensive condo development, so I guessed it was true, but I never
really gave it much thought.

   One day I happened to be walking by her cubicle late at night, and I saw
her working, savagely punching away at her keyboard.  Two things I hadn't
seen before; Bobbie working late, and Bobbie angry.  I was exhausted from a
long day myself, but decided to ask what was bothering her.

   "Nothing's wrong," she said in a tone that implied the opposite.  She
started swearing because she had made a small error and had to reverse and
entry on the spreadsheet she was working with.  "No.  I'm fine," she
continued, though I hadn't said anything else.

   "Okay.  Just thought I'd ask." I said in a weary tone, and started to
shuffle to the door.

   Abruptly, she turned and stared at me with her pale blue eyes.  They
were quite amazing, really.  "Why are men such assholes?" she asked me.

   "It's in the DNA," I said.  It was the best I could do on short notice.
I wanted to keep her talking, although why, I didn't know.  "Problem at
home?" I inquired, wondering why I asked, and whether or not she would tell
me.  We didn't know each other well enough to trade war stories by any
means.

   She shook her head.  "No.  Not really.  It's just that John." she
trailed off, and I knew she was deciding whether or not to confide in me.
People do, for some reason.  I guess I have an honest face.

   "John wants to buy me a car.  An expensive one," she said at last.  She
seemed genuinely upset.

   "That bastard!" I exclaimed in my best tone of mock outrage.

   She smiled.  I don't know why I hadn't noticed her smile before.  It
started up at her eyes (which I couldn't seem to stop staring at), and
eventually lit up her entire face.  It also revealed a small gap between
her two front teeth.  Not much, and if you didn't really look you wouldn't
see it.  For some reason, I found it sexy.  I was a little deflated when
her expression returned to its former serious self.  "It actually is a
problem.  For me, at least."

   She went on to explain that her boyfriend was, in fact, rich.  He
himself was quite successful, but he also had family money.  The kind that
goes way back.  They had been living together for three years, and in that
time, he had showered Bobbie with gifts, vacations, and other things most
women would crawl over a live hand grenade for.

   The problem was, Bobbie wasn't most women.  She didn't want John to feel
like she was sticking around because of his money, so she had gone out of
her way to stand on her own.  She shared the bills with John, paid her own
way on the vacations they took, and any money she spent was her own.  She
had been driving a car when she met John, but it was ready for the scrap
yard, and she needed a new one.  She had been looking at an economical
compact car, but John said that he wanted to buy her an expensive European
sport sedan.  It was, he said, because he would need to borrow it from time
to time when he went out of town on business.

   She knew he was just trying to find an excuse so he could buy it for
her. It made her uncomfortable, she explained.  Her mother and her friends
told her she was entitled to the car, but it didn't feel right.  She didn't
know how to turn it down without alienating him.

   I listened as all this came pouring out of her, thinking to myself that
most people would tell her to count herself lucky, and take the damn car. I
honestly have no idea why I said what I did next.

   "Tell him to stuff the car," I said without thinking.

   She paused, and looked like I had slapped her.  "Really?  He won't get
mad?"

   "Not if he loves you," I shuffled, thinking fast now that I had stepped
in it.  "What I'm hearing you say is that you don't want to be a bird in a
gilded cage.  So don't be.  If he loves you, he'll understand."

   She thought for a minute.  "You're right.  I'll talk to him and tell him
I'm buying the compact.  Thanks, Bruce." She kissed me on the cheek and
rose to leave.  I rose too, but in a different way.

   "You go, girl." Lame, I know, but it was all I could think to say.

   The next morning, Bobbie wasn't at her desk.  I didn't give it much
thought, and got caught up in work for the rest of the day.  Another damn
late night.  On the way out, I noticed a light on at her workstation, and
went to see if she was there.

   It was obvious she had been crying.  Bobbie's blue eyes blazed, her
cheeks were spotted and red.  I didn't know what to say, so I mumbled
something like, "Oh.  Sorry, I'll just."

   She grabbed my arm, and motioned for me to sit down while she composed
herself.  It took a minute, but she finally said.  "John, ah, John didn't
take it so well."

   I nodded.  "Sorry to hear that.  I guess I give lousy advice." I felt
bad.  I hadn't intended to cause a problem for her.

   She shook her head.  "No.  What you said was right.  We had a huge fight
last night, and I realized afterwards, that it was exactly what you said."

   I was at a loss.  "What did I say?"

   She sniffed, and dabbed her eyes with a tissue, looking at that moment
as scared and vulnerable as I had ever seen her.  "You said I was a bird in
a gilded cage.  And you were right, I was.  As we were fighting, I realized
that in the last three years I had changed myself to be what John wanted me
to be, not who I really was.  I've been trying to be the perfect
girlfriend, hoping he would.." She broke down again, and cried for a short
while.  "Hoping he would marry me.  He made it clear last night that it
wasn't going to happen."

   I was stunned but not entirely upset by this news.  I nodded
sympathetically, hoping I looked sincere.  "You need to be true to
yourself." It sounded totally insincere, even to me, but Bobbie just
nodded.

   "So what now?" I asked, curious.

   "So now I need a place to stay," she said in a small voice.  "I've been
sitting here, trying to figure out what to do."

   "You're telling me you have no place to go?  What about your family? 
Friends?" I asked, trying to be supportive.

   She shook her head.  "My family are all out east.  As for my friends,
they were all John's friends.  I don't really think I could ask any of
them." "What about a hotel?  Why don't you put yourself up in a hotel for a
couple of days and." I started.

   "I can't.  I can't afford it." She explained that she had maxed out her
credit cards during her last trip with John and hadn't paid them down.  She
had spent the morning packing all her things into a trailer hooked to the
back of her dilapidated old car, and that had taken all her cash until the
next pay day.

   Now, I know that by reading this so far, you probably think I'm a
clueless idiot.  And you'd be right.  It wasn't until just now in the
conversation that I realized my opportunity.

   "C'mon.  You can stay with me.  I have a spare room," I said as casually
as I could muster.  I live alone.  I have for a long time, now.

   She blinked in surprise, then stared at me, and I could sense her radar
finally come up.  There she was at four foot eight and a hundred pounds,
and there I was a six four and two fifty.  We were friendly, but her better
judgement was kicking in.  I could see her about to decline, then I asked
what other options she had.  She knew she didn't have one, and she sagged a
bit, defeated.  "But it's only for a few days.  Just until payday."

   I backed off a bit.  "Hey," I said, a little offended, "I'm the one
trying to help you, remember?  If you don't want to stay, then don't."

   "No!  I mean, uh, no, Bruce.  I do want to stay.  I'm just.I don't know,
a little confused, that's all.  Thanks." She looked at the floor, feeling
bad.

   "Don't worry about it.  Let's just get you settled."

   I had her follow me home, and let her park in the garage next to me.  We
decided to unload the trailer into the storage room in my basement, and I
returned it to save Bobbie having to rent the damn thing for the next
several days.  She seemed grateful for my help, and said so.  I nodded
acknowledgement, and invited her to sit on the couch in the television room
while I headed to the kitchen.

   "Did you eat yet?" I called from inside the pantry as I looked for
something I could make fast.  I didn't hear her answer, so I started to
call even louder, when she said "No" right behind me.

   I almost jumped out of my skin, and she laughed.  I've mentioned her
smile before.  Her laugh is better.  It almost made my near heart attack
worth it.  She asked me if it was okay if she made dinner.  I nodded and
sat down in a chair beside the table, while I got my breath back.

   She poked around in my pantry for a while, then checked out the
refrigerator and freezer, all the while mumbling to herself.  She noticed
my mini wine rack in the pantry, and asked if I felt like having wine for
dinner.  I agreed, and suggested a Claret I was fond of.  That inspired
her, and she set about assembling her ingredients while I poured us each a
glass of the dark red.

   Soon after, we were sharing a dish of meatballs in a sauce I had never
heard of, on a bed of broad pasta noodles.  I was in heaven, and it went
well with the full bodied wine I had selected.  I complimented her on her
cooking skills, and Bobbie blushed a little.

   "It's been awhile since someone appreciated my cooking.  John only liked
certain things, and wouldn't experiment," she said with a little lift in
her voice.  It wasn't much, but it was enough to make me wonder if we were
still talking about food.  I decided to play dumb since it's what I do best
anyway.

   "So he wouldn't eat this?" I asked.

   "Nope."

   "His loss," I said, shoveling another mouthful in.

   We ate in silence for awhile.  Bobbie seemed lost in her thoughts, and I
didn't want to intrude.  Besides, I had a plateful of first class vittles
in front of me, and I wasn't about to let it go to waste.  It occurred to
me that it might be good to fill up the silence, so I grabbed the remote
for my stereo, and activated the CD I had sitting in there.

   Soon, Diana Krall's smoky alto voice played softly in the background. 
Her music has a soothing effect on me at the best of times, and relaxing
with good wine and better food, it was almost magical.  I waited until
Bobbie was pushing her food around her plate, and then offered to clear the
table.  She nodded, and I suggested she relax in the living room while I
cleaned.  Afterwards, I topped up our wine glasses and went to join her.

   When I got there, she had stretched her feet out onto the table.  I
noticed again how small they were, especially compared to my size 12
clodhoppers.  Her head was back against the couch with her eyes closed, and
I could see her swaying gently in time to the music.  "Besame Mucho" had
just started with a subdued yet passionate Latin rhythm.  I didn't want to
intrude on her moment, so I stood there silently watching.

   Something amazing happens when you take the time to really look at
another person, especially one you have a growing attraction for.  I took
in every detail of her, swaying to the music.  I took in each nuance,
things I would normally never see, just because I would usually be too busy
to notice.  I saw the small mole at the crook of her left elbow, and how
her full lips formed a natural pout when she was resting.  I realized that
she must sculpt her eyebrows, because they were perfect in shape and
length. I watched her breathing deeply, in time with the music, and noticed
that under her heavy blue sweater, her body was fit and well shaped.  The
conservative gray flannel pants she wore were perfectly tailored, and
showed that she was long in the leg for someone so small.

   Enough time passed that I became worried she might open her eyes and see
me standing there, so I made a little shuffling noise, and made like I just
entered.  Her eyes fluttered open and she sat back on the couch with her
legs crossed primly.  I presented her glass of wine, but she declined,
claiming it would put her to sleep.

   "Good", I said.  "You need some rest." I put the drink on the table in
front of her, and took the chair to her left.  I swirled the wine in my
glass, enjoying the vapors swirling out of it.  After a moment, I took a
small mouthful, closed my eyes, and enjoyed the flavor as it slid down my
throat.  I must've been showing my enjoyment, because when I opened my eyes
Bobbie was watching.

   "You like your wine, don't you?" she said, teasing a little.

   "Absolutely.  Fine wine, great food, soft jazz.  It doesn't get much
better." I paused, taking another small amount of wine.  "And you?  Are you
feeling better?  At least a little?"

   She took a deep breath and reached for her wine.  She drank deeply and
swallowed.  "Yes, I guess.  I'm sure I'll look back and realize this was
all for the best.  It's just a lot to take, especially so suddenly.  Did
you know on Monday, I stopped at a jewelry store, that one in our building,
to look at engagement rings?  I had the one I wanted all picked out, and
was just trying to find a way to let John know.  I was so sure he was going
to ask me."

   I could see her starting to well up.  As always, I was at a loss for
words, so I just sipped my wine, and let her continue.  It took her a
while, but eventually she told me her life story.  Her previous abusive
relationship.  Her move away from the city to get away.  Hooking up with
John.  All of it.  Truthfully, I was hoping she would stop, but she seemed
to need to talk.  As she was talking, I noticed she kept gulping her wine.
Soon, we were both at the bottom of our glass.  Seizing the opportunity for
a break, I grabbed her glass, and offered a dessert wine.  She declined,
saying she had had too much already.

   I went to the kitchen, placed the glasses in the sink, and opened up a
bottle of Okanagan Ice Wine.  This slim little treasure cost me a small
fortune, but it was worth every penny.  I pulled my smaller dessert glasses
out and filled them.  The dark gold wine came slowly out of the bottle.  It
was quite thick, some might say syrupy, and it was sweet enough to make a
diabetic reach for his insulin.  It was the perfect after dinner drink.

   I told Bobbie that she didn't have to have any, but it was one of my
greatest pleasures, and I wasn't going to deny myself.  I placed the glass
in front of her anyway.  By this time, the CD had changed to Barry White,
and we were relaxing to a laid back, Motown style.  Bobbie sighed deeply,
and sampled the ice wine.  She complimented me on it, marveling at it's
texture, and the way it both warms and chills you on the way down.

   We both were feeling mellow, and I reached over and took her tiny hand
in mine, looking into those blue, blue eyes.  "I know you're hurting right
now, but you are right, you know."

   She watched me closely, not moving at all.  "Right about what?"

   "You will look back on this and realize it's for the best," I said. 
"Sometimes, things happen for a reason."

   She arched one of her perfect eyebrows.  "Such as?"

   I took a breath.  This moment was charged with tension, and it wasn't
really my style to be so direct, but I couldn't stop myself.  "Maybe your
time with John needed to end so you could have something with someone else.
Something real.  The right guy might be right around the corner." I tried
to look away from those eyes, but I just couldn't.

   She looked at me for a long, long time.  I was beginning to think I had
pushed too far, and was thinking I should try to find some way out of this
that wouldn't kill me from embarrassment.  Bobbie saved me the trouble. 
Without breaking eye contact, she released my hand, and put down her glass
of ice wine.  She rose slowly and deliberately and came to stand directly
in front of me.  I noticed we were almost the same height, now that I was
seated.

   She placed a tiny hand on each side of my face, and leaned forward to
kiss me deeply.  My eyes closed, and I could feel her tiny tongue find it's
way to mine.  I wanted to savor every moment of this, and relaxed into it,
taking my time.  My hands went up her arms to her shoulders, and worked
their way to the small of her back.  Her hands were busy tussling my hair,
as she pulled me toward her with more and more passion.  This close, I
could smell her perfume, subtle and sweet.

   We came up for air several minutes later.  As we broke our kiss, she
pulled away, and I watched as her eyes opened.  I felt more intimacy in
that moment than I had ever felt before.  I knew that I couldn't hide
anything from her, or she from me.  "Or maybe, the right guy is right
here," she said softly.  I kissed her again, more deeply than the last, and
with more passion.  My arousal lit up like a christmas tree, and I knew I
had to have her right now.

   She clearly felt the same way.  She stood while still kissing me, and
went to work on my pants.  I raised my hips as she pulled my belt free,
undid my zipper, and pulled my trousers to the floor.  At the same time, my
hands were busy undoing her bra clasp.  We both achieved our goals in
record time, and soon my hands had moved to her well proportioned breasts,
teasing her nipples with my thumbs.  She groaned into our kiss as our
tongues swirled together and she pressed her chest into my hands, seeking
more.

   Her hands were busy too.  With my pants around the floor, my erection
was poking through the opening in my boxers and standing straight at
attention.  She began to stroke me, first with one tiny hand, then with
both.  She broke our kiss long enough to look down at me.  "You're huge,"
she said as our mouths met again.  I was too busy groaning in pleasure to
say anything.

   Finally, I pulled away far enough to take her baggy sweater and pull it
over her head.  It was my first view of the breasts I had been teasing. 
They were perfect.  Bobbie had faint freckles over her nose and cheeks. 
Now I knew they continued down onto her breasts as well.  Faint pink
nipples, growing rapidly darker with her arousal topped off her perfectly
formed cones, and pointed towards the sky.  My mouth watered, and as she
tossed her sweater to the ground, I dove in, taking her right nipple into
my mouth.  I sucked on it softly, and her back arched and her head tilted
upwards in pleasure.  She made a small growling noise as I teased her
nipple with my tongue.  I continued to massage the left breast with my
right hand, as my left hand traced the curve of her ass.

   I moved my mouth to her other nipple, causing a new round of growling. I
undid the fastener at the front of her grey flannel pants, and drew the
zipper down.  I practically ripped her pants off, I was in such a hurry,
and was rewarded when she stepped out of them at last.  I was surprised
when my hand returned to her ass, and a very small bit of fabric.  I broke
our kiss long enough to look, and see a pale blue thong, very tiny, and
extremely sexy.  I think I managed to grunt, "Whoa," or something as
profound.

   Whatever it was, Bobbie liked my reaction.  She pushed me back, so I
fell on the chair, almost fully reclined.  She climbed up me, and placed a
knee on either side of my hips.  She pulled my head to hers and we kissed
again as her hips ground fiercely into mine.  My dick was on fire, and
throbbed as she moved up and down it's length, pinning it between herself
and me.  Essentially, the only thing between us was the thin lycra of her
thong.

   As she was kissing me she said, "Do you like my tattoo?"

   I honestly had not seen any tattoo.  Knowing I could kill the mood, I
said "Uh.what tattoo?"

   She said.  "You know, the cute little mouse, right where my hip and my
leg join?" She pulled back a little as she said this, but not enough that I
could see that part of her.

   I didn't think faking it was the right answer.  So I tried for horny
instead.  "No, I didn't see it.  Why don't you show it to me?" I grinned
lewdly.

   She rose up, causing sweet torture to my already strained cock, and
looked down.  No tattoo anywhere.  She pulled aside her thong, revealing a
totally shaved pussy.  "Ooops!  My pussy ate it!" she exclaimed, then in
one swift motion, she grabbed my swollen tool, and sat down on it.  She
made it almost halfway before friction stopped her.

   I saw lights flashing behind my eyes, and I thrust upwards to meet her,
but she was small, and her pussy was very tight.  With each stroke we got a
little further, and I could feel her channel lubricating.  Finally she
settled right down, taking me in to the base.  She grunted and then sighed
as she planted herself.  I played with her nipples as she began to rock her
hips back and forth.

   With each rock I could feel myself climbing towards climax.  It was too
soon but I knew I wouldn't have long to last.  Apparently Bobbie didn't
either.  I looked down and noticed her clit had grown substantially.  Her
juices were really flowing now and coated both of us.  I moved one hand
from her breast, and started to rub her clit up and down in time with the
rocking motion of her hips.  "Oh!" she gasped in surprise, and started to
bite her lip.  I knew neither of us would be long.  I put my other hand on
her hip to steady her as she rocked.

   Her breathing became more labored, and I saw her chest start to flush.
She started to gasp.  "Oh.  Unh.  Oh!  Fuck me!  Fuck Me!  Fuck ME!"

   I did as I was told.  I timed my arching hips with her rocking motion,
and managed a little extra pressure during each stroke.

   That seemed to be enough.  She screamed, and I could feel a rush of wet
heat flow out of her around me.  Her vagina contracted quickly, rhythmic
spasms cascading through her whole body .  I went over the edge in a
heartbeat, and thust my hips violently upward, lifting Bobbie right off the
chair.  My orgasm blasted into her in one long, screaming thrust.  I held
her there, and grunted as our fluids mixed, pulsing through us as the
pleasure ripped through our bodies.

   It was a perfect moment, one that I didn't want to end, but eventually
of course, it had to.  I collapsed down, and Bobbie fell forward onto my
chest, both of us sweaty and breathless.  Her head fit under mine, and I
put my arms around her.  I felt myself start to shrink, and eventually
withdraw from her sex.  I stroked her hair softly, and we lay there without
saying a word for a long while.

   Eventually, Bobbie patted my chest, and rose up.  She looked damn
amazing with her hair tussled and her body covered in a sheen of sweat. 
She smiled at me, a small, almost timid smile, and said, "Well, I should,
umm, go." She started to climb off, and I could see she was wondering if
this had been a mistake.

   She stood up and turned to go.  I stopped her, touching her shoulder
lightly and she turned to look up into my face.  The doubt in her eyes was
unmistakable.  I had no idea what to say or do at a moment like this.  I
had been winging this so far, and any semblance of a plan had escaped me.
Eventually, I bent down and as gently as I could, swept her off her feet.
She was so light, it was like holding vapor.  Instinctively, she put her
arms around my neck, and we looked into each other's eyes for a time.  I
could see the doubt subside in her eyes, to be replaced by something I
hadn't seen in a long while.

   I carried her to the bedroom, not knowing anything, but that I didn't
want this to end.  That was six months ago.  She never did sleep in the
spare room.  Today, I stopped by a certain store in the building I work in.
I hope she likes the ring.