Message-ID: <19660eli$9902040446@qz.little-neck.ny.us> X-Archived-At: From: David Wright Subject: {BlueWords} Question (MF rom) Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d MIME-Version: 1.0 Content-Type: text/plain; charset=us-ascii Path: qz!not-for-mail Organization: The Committee To Thwart Spam Approved: X-Moderator-Contact: Eli the Bearded X-Story-Submission: X-Original-Message-ID: <19990204042130.21621.rocketmail@send204.yahoomail.com> {BlueWords} Question (MF rom) This text contains material of an explicit and adult nature. If you are not of legal age to view such text DO NOT READ ANY FURTHER. The following incidents and characters are fictional and in no way reflects any known persons, situations or places. Any similarity to real life is purely coincidental. Permission is granted to save this story to a private computer for personal viewing or to be re-posted within this newsgroup so long as both this disclaimer and copyright of the writer and owner remain intact. The story may be archived or linked to a web page, as long as there is no charge for access to it, it remains unchanged and I am given credit for the work. However, permission to print in book or magazine, or commercial archive this story, as well as selling this story as your own, is explicitly withheld. Question (MF rom) by BlueWords "Do you want to make love?" Even with all the preparation, it was a question out of the blue, one that I never thought I'd hear, not from her. My answer? "Do you want to make love?" She was a friend, a former coworker. Susanna. We'd worked together for probably 10 years, and before that, she and I had gone to the same college. We'd always gotten along, even with our religious differences. Susanna was a devout catholic, and I was an atheist. It didn't come up much, and when it did, she was reasonable about it. She didn't try to convert me, like others had, nor did she feel sorry for me because I was condemned to spend eternity in hell, or some such crap. She was a good friend of Melody, one of my college girlfriends. Susanna and I also had several classes together, having the same major, so we still got along well when Melody dumped me. I might have even asked her out, but she was going steady with someone else at the time, and shortly thereafter I met Grace, the woman who became my wife. When I started working after college, Susanna and I didn't see each other for a while, but after a few years, she came to work for the company I was at, on the same project. Neat coincidence. Susanna and I were "work" friends. We talked a lot at work, and there was the occasional summer party that everyone at work attended; once at her house, since she had a pool. But you probably know how work friends are. You just never seem to be able to get together for anything unless it's related to work. At least, that's how it is for me. Got along great with all of them at work, but come 5 o'clock, we'd all go our separate ways. I sometimes lusted after her, but I never followed through. I've lusted after other women at work, too, I guess. What I would call normal office flirting. Susanna was the best one to flirt with; she didn't mind flirting back sometimes. Occasionally I felt a little guilty; I married Grace right after college. But I was never serious with anyone, and I never followed through. I loved my wife. Susanna liked Grace, and when we did get together, they always got along well. I'm not sure about Susanna's love life. She never married. Marcus had been her steady boyfriend for many years, during and after college. But she eventually broke up with him, or vice versa. I had talked about it with some of the men at work. We thought, that since she was so catholic, she was still a virgin, and Marcus eventually gave up hoping that she'd ever give him more than a good night kiss. Maybe he wanted to get married, and she didn't. We figured Susanna didn't want kids. But if she got married, there'd be no real way of avoiding them. She was a good catholic, and the pope says that you get married to have kids. If you aren't making babies, there's no reason to have sex, thus, no reason to get married. Well, that was our take on things. None of the guys I talked with were atheist, but they weren't catholic either. They had sex with their wives or girlfriends all the time, and made sure they weren't getting anyone pregnant unless they choose to. Susanna seemed to like other people's kids. She certainly liked her sister's sons. I think that was the thing, though. They were other people's kids. She could leave them be at the end of the day. I was never sure about her childhood. Her dad had left her family for some reason when she was about 10, and she doesn't see him very much. Maybe that turned her off of husbands. Anyway, Susanna had a few boyfriends here and there, but nobody really steady. For a while, I thought she might be gay. She had a real close girlfriend, Erin, that she went everywhere with. They took trips together; she'd go for weekends to see her when Erin moved out of town. But I'm pretty sure now that Erin was just a real good friend. Susanna even dated one of the guys at work for a little while. I only found out about it after it was over. Guess I never paid close attention to that kind of stuff. Steve was a bit of a whiner, nice guy, but - well, he complained all the time. I suppose she got tired of that. He quit work and moved away shortly after that, not sure if it had anything to do with her or not. The whole office was breaking up. We'd all been together for years, but the projects were changing, and people weren't as happy as they had been. One of the guys I'd worked with the longest, Bill, quit and became a teacher. Brandon was a new guy, and when work got lean for a few months, he quit and went to work for the electric company. Janet got married again, and moved herself and her kids to San Antonio with her new husband and his kids. The group was smaller, and we were working on smaller projects, so there was less time to get together at work and joke around. Eventually, I left too. I decided to leave the job and city I'd known for forever, and take a chance on something different in another city. The move was hell, and I had to leave before my wife and daughter did, living in an apartment for a few months by myself. All our stuff ended up in storage for months before we found a house. And to make matters worse, the job sucked, it wasn't any better than the one I'd left. The pay was more, but I needed it in the new city. My wife stayed out of work for a while, and she wasn't real happy about the move. I was pretty depressed about the whole thing. Change is supposed to be good. But, as someone told me once, "I'd rather feel pain than boredom, at least then you know you're alive." Certain truth to that, I think. Then, my wife got a job. She met people, made some work friends, made some money, and we could start paying off our bills instead of making the minimum payment. Suddenly she liked it here. Suddenly my job ran out. Literally got pulled out from under my feet. Now, all this time, I'd been keeping in touch with the people I used to work with. Especially Susanna, I'd email her once or twice a month. She eventually quit the company altogether, and moved out to California. Like me, she probably needed to get out of the town she grew up in. I needed something to tide me over temporarily while my boss could find me some more permanent work. Luckily, our company has offices all over, and there was one that needed temporary workers, out in California. In the same city Susanna lived in. Coincidence rears its head again. I called her up as soon as I got into town, and we made a date for dinner. She told me the restaurant was kind of fancy, so to at least wear a tie. I just left on the clothes I had gone to work in, and went out to find the place. It did look ritzy from the outside. I parked the rental and went in. Susanna had already arrived and gotten a table; the waiter took me over. When she saw me, she smiled and stood. I was momentarily taken aback. I had always thought she was pretty. She had dressed conservatively before, and never wore much makeup. The woman I saw before me now was in contrast to my memory of her. She had a thin-strapped evening dress on, her hair done up, and her makeup, while not excessive, made her look like a model. She caught me staring and smiled. She stepped up to me and kissed my cheek. "It's so good to see you, Ian," she said, sincerely delighted. "Good to see you too, Susanna, god you look great." I tried hard not to stare, but I was pretty sure she did not have a brassiere on. I looked at her face instead, and found that I was staring into her eyes. Not sure if that was better. I love my wife, I thought, I love my wife. Man, she looks great. I looked around the restaurant. "Nice place, good thing I'm on per diem," I told her. She laughed, and it was a pleasant sound. She seemed genuinely happy to seem me, not just like someone doing their duty for an old friend they'd grown apart from a long time ago. "You silly man, I'm paying for this. I'm making the big bucks now." She went on to tell me about her new job, and new life, and new apartment and new car and, well, everything in her life seemed new. I felt like a real underachiever. I didn't have a masters degree, or a 6 figure salary. I just wanted a job, and here she was taking the world by storm and grabbing her piece of it. She really liked her job, and had moved up quickly; it had definitely been the right move. I barely even remember what we had for dinner, except it tasted pretty good, I think. I was amazed at how much fun it was talking with her. She may have moved up in the world, but in most ways, she was the same old Susanna, friendly and kind and festive. I also started to feel a little guilty. We had resumed some of our office flirting, only we weren't at the office anymore. I vaguely wondered if this was leading anywhere, and just as vaguely, I wondered how I might respond. We finished up, and she told me to follow her to her place, where she'd make us some tea and we could continue talking about old times and new times. Her car was new but not fancy, and the apartment, the same. She lead me inside and it looked - normal. "I was expecting a grand piano, maybe a jacuzzi, or a butler or something," I said. "It's James night off," she replied, with a grin. "Do you mind if I change out of this dress?" "Only if I can take my tie off," I answered. She was gone for a few minutes into her bedroom, and I had all sorts of odd thoughts going through my mind. What if she comes out wearing a negligee or something, or maybe nothing at all? Or what if she comes out in an old sweat suit? I was half hoping for the sweat suit. I wasn't too far off. She came out barefoot, wearing loose slacks and a loose sweater top, her hair down. I didn't find it any less sexy than I'd found the dress, regardless. She went into her kitchen and put the kettle on. When she came out, she walked right up to me and grabbed my tie. "I thought you were going take this off." I had forgotten. "I forgot," I said. I started to reach up, but she loosened the knot herself, and pulled it apart, letting the ends fall loosely. Then she undid the top two buttons on the shirt. I immediately became even more flustered than I had been. She knew what she was doing to me. She was doing this on purpose. Well, I was pretty sure she was doing it on purpose. "You can sit down, you know. I have a couch, if not a piano. You don't play anyway." She went to the couch and sat down on one end. I flopped down on the other end. I felt a bit awkward. "This really is a nice place you have here," I said lamely. "I was kind of lucky to get it. It's pretty close to where I work and -" The kettle whistling interrupted her, so she got up to fix the tea. "What do you take in yours?" she asked from the kitchen. "Black, with cream and sugar," I answered. A joke from an old TV show. She laughed but didn't say anything else. She brought the tea out and handed me my cup before sitting down on her end of the couch. We sipped our tea for a while before she broke the silence. "Can I be honest with you, Ian?" she asked over her cup. "Of course, Susanna, always." I felt a lump in my throat, in any case. I wasn't sure I could handle honesty right now. "Never did call me Suzy, like everyone else, did you?" "I've always liked the full name. It suits you." I saw her eyes twinkle. She took my sincere compliment as something more. "I've always liked you. In college, when we started working together. Of course by then, you'd married." "I guess I never knew. I mean, you never said anything in college.." "You know how it is. I was kind of shy in college, at least around men. Hard to shake off my upbringing." She laughed at this, like it was a private joke. "Even when I was out with other men, I thought about you." Her eyes were intense. It had been a long time since anyone had looked at me like that. "I didn't, I mean-" "No, of course, how could you." Her voice was tinged with a little sadness. "I never said anything, and you were going out with Melody. Then when you two broke up, I was going with someone. Never seemed the right time. Then, you got married." She mentioned it again, and the regret in the words was unmistakable. I didn't say anything, I was a bit stunned. "I didn't mean to spring this on you like this, but, well. I've been with several men since Marcus, but I think I was always comparing them to you, or how I imagined you'd be. I know we never have been together romantically, but, I, I've always thought you were the man for me." I was stunned before. Now I was shocked. She wanted me? This woman I had lusted after all those years ago? This woman I was still lusting after tonight? I mean, I know I'm not handsome. I'm not ugly or anything, but I'm just kind of average. I knew my wife loved me for lots of reasons, looks not being the first and foremost. So I was really puzzled by what she'd said. That, and she seemed to be saying that she was not a virgin after all. I tried to play it safe and mention that first. "You and Marcus.." I began. "I thought you were a good catholic girl." I grinned. I was trying to overcome my amazement with humor. It turned out I didn't quite know this Susanna as well as I thought. "Marcus was very persuasive," she said with a laugh. "Anyway, I did have an ulterior motive in bringing you here." She set her cup on the coffee table and moved over to within a foot of me on the couch. As she did so, I couldn't help glancing down her sweater. Still no brassiere. "Ian, I've always wanted to be with you. I've wanted you for a long time now. I know you're married, but I have to ask you. "Do you want to make love?" Even with all the preparation, it was a question out of the blue, one that I never thought I'd hear, not from her. Not the way she asked it, so abruptly. So straightforward. My answer? I looked into her eyes, eyes that a long time ago I could have fallen into. They were beautiful. But I hesitated. They weren't my wife's eyes. There was a feeling of lust between Susanna and me, but no love. This Susanna was out of my league now, even if I weren't married. And I did love my wife, very much; I just couldn't do this to her. No matter how much I might have wanted to. Susanna saw the answer on my face. Her smile disappeared, and she turned her head away, but I saw the tears well up. They didn't fall. "I should go, I think." I said. "You, you don't have to, Ian. I promise to behave." She was smiling again, recovering quickly. She had known my answer before asking, I think. Why did she ask? "No, really, it's kind of late, and I need to work tomorrow." I got up and walked to the door, and she followed. "It's been nice seeing you again, Ian. I -" she shuddered a little. "Can we get together again, this weekend maybe?" There was hope in her voice and not desperation. I nodded. "Sure, you've got my work number, give me a call." She leaned into me and kissed my cheek lightly, for the second time that night. "Goodbye, Ian." I wanted to kiss her back, but to be honest, I didn't trust myself just then. Instead, I said, "Goodbye, Susanna," and left to return to my lonely hotel room. She called later in the week and said something had come up. I never did meet with her again while I was there. My boss finally found work for me back home after a few weeks, so I packed up and bid California goodbye. I still email her every once in a while. Neither of us mention that night. I still wonder why she asked. Maybe she needed to close that door, or throw it wide open if I'd said yes. Did she really think I might say yes? I almost did, maybe she picked up on that. Maybe she just had to know, regardless of the consequences. Seems she has a steady boyfriend now. I told her I was happy for her. Copyright (c) 1999 David Wright -- +----------------' Story submission `-+-' Moderator contact `--------------+ | | | | Archive site +----------------------+--------------------+ Newsgroup FAQ | ----