by Robin Fate
"Sounds great," he said, "can you do it in stainless steel?"
"Yes," I answered. "Anything can be done for a price. But never mind the money right now. How many different types of fixtures are required and how many of each?"
"A downlight pendant, an uplight spot, wall scones and lights for the steps, but those I've got figured out. So, three types. I don't have the exact numbers in front of me right now but call it two hundred pendants, fifty spots and fifty wall scones. And you know what? I know a guy who can actually make the fixtures, you know, do the wiring and all that, but he can't make the decorative part."
"That's perfect Frank," Catlin said leaning into the cell phone, "when do you meet with the client?"
"Tomorrow afternoon."
She said, "We'll have drawings for you by then, concept drawings anyway. Can you send us something that shows us what you're looking for functionally? Like some catalogue cuts?"
"I can email you what I've proposed so far and the lighting plans. I can do that right now."
"Great." We both said.
"Emma, you're brilliant. Sam, do you have any idea how lucky you are to have Emma?"
"Every day is a new surprise Frank," I smiled at her, she was beaming back, "and I count my blessings every day."
We ended the call. Emma was almost bouncing in her seat. I was so happy for her.
"Thanks Sam," she said smiling and squeezing my hand.
"Emma, I didn't do anything. This is all coming from your brain."
She couldn't stop grinning as she looked out the window. On top of everything else she had good business acumen too. Just how lucky could I get?
"I need to work a little late tonight. Do you mind if I stay at your place?" she asked with mock innocence in her face.
I was getting to know that mock innocent look.
"You expect me to cook?" I asked.
"No," she laughed and then added, "take-out."
"Deal." She hugged my bicep as we drove.
When we got back to the shop Emma ensconced herself in the little office again. I did some shop work and then cleaned up, leaving her working in the office.
After showering, I took off to pick-up Chinese food. They don't deliver where I am. As I pulled in with the food I noticed the shop light was off. Emma was up in the shower. On the dining room table were six drawings. Three were free-form sketches, one of each lily fixture type. The other three were drawings that showed each fixture in front, side and top views complete with dimensions, just like a professional draughtsman would make.
Again, I was stunned.
I carefully put the drawings away and set the table.
"What do you think," she said as she came down the stairs in t-shirt and sweats.
"I think you're lovely," I said, "and I love your nipples too."
"Not that, of the drawings silly."
"Ah, no shop talk," I said as she gave me a kiss.
"Okay, but what do you think?" she pressed.
"Emma, seriously. You don't cease to amaze me." I kissed down onto her smiling lips.
Chinese food was the standard fare. Beef fried rice, egg foo young, chicken balls with sticky red sauce, eggs rolls and fortune cookies.
Emma watched as I unpacked the food. I could see that she was being very polite, forcing a smile on her face.
"I'm sure it will be lovely," she said as I spilled the little packets of soy sauce onto the counter.
"Have you ever thought about getting tied-up and then having sex?" she asked as we sat down to eat.
Where did that come from?
"What, do you mean bondage?" I asked I'm sure with a little surprise in my voice.
"Kinda. I guess," she replied as she scooped up some rice.
"Well no," I said, "the idea of receiving, or inflicting pain seems ridiculous. Why, is there a dark side to you that I don't know about? Is this a Goth thing? I thought that was just fashion."
"It is just fashion," she answered and then reflected for a moment before continuing, "well for me anyway. No and it's not about pain. I'm just curious about, oh, I don't know..." She ate a mouthful of rice.
"Tying someone up and then forcing yourself on them?" She was being coy all of a sudden.
"No, no," she answered with a mouthful.
"Having someone tie you up," I said.
She looked up at me with a bit of a leer on her face. So that was it. She wants to be tied up. "And have what done to you?" I asked studying her reaction.
She swallowed, thought for a second or two then answered, "I guess that's the point isn't it? You don't have any choice." Her leer widened into a smirk.
So she was asking me to tie her up and do what? Fuck her? Feed her my cum? She already does that. She did say it's not about pain. I couldn't see myself whipping her.
"Is this about forced orgasms?" I asked.
Mock innocent look, "Maybe."
Okay. This could get interesting. "Let me get this right," I said, "you want me to tie you up, restrain you somehow, and then force you to have multiple orgasms. Is that it?"
"Maybe," she answered her eyes on the ceiling above.
So that's a yes, I realized.
I sat contemplating what she had just asked. Did she want to submit herself fully and completely to my innermost depredations? If I did that would I lose an employee out of the deal and would the country squire scare her off too? I'm male and by definition a sick fuck, like all other guys. Does she have any idea of what she's asking?
But then she's fucked up too. Nipple rings and pussy rings. Gee. And her cum eating fetish. What the hell else is there about this girl?
I needed to find out.
And I knew she wasn't going to just tell me.
Okay. One step at a time.
"Only if it does not involve anyone else," I said, "it's just you and me."
With a very calm voice and a sincere expression she said, "I'm cool with that. I wouldn't want it any other way. Just you and me. No third parties."
Did I just agree?
"You'll have to give me a day or two to sort myself out."
She was beaming.
After dinner we cleaned up, watched some TV then we went to bed. I fucked her silly again and of course she needed a little dessert afterwards.
"Emma, can I ask you something?" I asked as we lay in bed afterwards.
"What?"
"Something serious."
"What?"
"Am I taking advantage of you?"
She pulled on my soft cock.
"Yes you are."
Fuck. Is she serious when she said that? Seriously, am I? She's a fantastic employee, a fantastic cook and housekeeper, and a sex maniac. The reality is...I don't deserve this girl.
"I don't mean to be taking ..."
"Sam, you duffus," she gave my cock a really tight squeeze, "if anything, I'm the one taking advantage of you!"
I winced in pain a little, "How so?"
"You're the eligible bachelor, you're the good looking guy, you've got the steady income," she squeezed my balls, then gently rolled them in her fingers, "you're the one with the big heart, you're the sweet kind gentleman, which I'm working on," she switched back to my cock, "and you're the one with the big stiff cock."
Only it wasn't stiff.
"Happy cock," I said.
"It certainly makes me happy!"
I kissed her. Her tongue practically gouged me.
We sat for a moment contemplating the ceiling.
"Sam?"
"Yes?"
"Do you think I'm taking advantage of you?" Her voice was very timid.
"Of course you are," I said, joking.
Wrong thing to say. She started sobbing.
"I'm joking!" How could anyone's emotions turn on a dime like that?
"No you aren't."
"Of course I am Cate, you're crazy. Actually that's not true. I'm crazy. About you!"
She let go of my cock and balls and gave me a big hug.
"I'm craz
y about you too," she said.
I wiped the tears from her face with my fingers.
"Cate, you drive me nuts. My biggest fear is of losing you."
She squeezed me again and started crying again. After a few minutes of licking her tears from her cheeks, cuddling her and kissing her softly I slipped my hand onto the nipple ring of her right tit.
"Emma, what do you want in life?"
"I don't know, what about you?"
"I don't know. I just want to be happy."
"Are you happy now?" she asked.
"With you, yes," I answered, "very happy."
"I'm more than just happy ," she said as she adjusted her position on the bed to give me a big, solid kiss. "I...I...lo..."
I kissed her suppressing the words she was trying to stammer out. I knew I loved her. I couldn't let her say the word. It was too early. I couldn't let her back herself into a corner, just to regret it later. If she said she loved me, I know how I would have reacted. I would have smothered her with affection. She was my employee. And my fuck-buddy. Had I heard her say, "I love you,' to me in a meaningful way, I would have broken apart. I would have been on my knees kissing her feet and asking her to marry me. To have my bambinos.
That would have surely scared her away.
I bit my tongue. Or rather I bit hers.
"Emma, I am taking advantage of you. And I'm enjoying every minute of it."
She broke out into a huge grin and squeezed me tightly.
"And I'm taking advantage of you, and loving every minute of it too."
"You're so sweet," I said, "now turn off the lights and let's go to sleep."
She did. And in no time we were snoring.
*
The next morning, Friday, I had Emma drive to Frank's to deliver the light fixture drawings. There was no sense in me going. That was her baby. I was proud of her. I could see she was a little apprehensive as she stepped into my pick-up truck.
"How did it go?" I asked when she returned.
"He wasn't there," she answered, "the secretary said he'd be back in an hour, but I didn't want to wait. Apparently his meeting with the client got moved to Sunday."
"That's okay, he's going to be blown away by the drawings."
She grinned at me.
*
The game plan for Emma's coming out was dinner that night at Giovanni's Ristorante, a cozy overpriced little place in town. Emma wanted to make a grand appearance to surprise me with the dress and all.
As arranged I dropped her off at her parents that afternoon together with her dress and everything she needed. She would take a cab and meet me there. Her Yaris was parked at the shop. Understood of course, but not spoken was that she would come back to my place and I would fuck her silly.
I didn't get to meet her parents, they weren't home when I dropped her off.
I picked up some lumber supplies and headed back to the shop to unload, shave, shower and get dressed. The reservation was for seven thirty. My intent was to get there a few minutes early.
I don't know where the time went, but I was running late. Not a lot, but just enough for me to be pissed off with myself.
There was a light drizzle as I sped along to the restaurant. I was trying to figure out how to ask Emma to move in with me permanently. I hadn't even told her that I loved her. Nor had she told me. With any luck I could tell her that in the cozy restaurant and then ask her to move in with me. I wondered too if there would be a mental association formed, like a bond, between dressing femininely and being told 'I love you.' But then again, maybe she didn't really feel that way about me. Maybe she wasn't about to say 'I love you' last night. And of course there was the real possibility that I'd just be scaring a very good employee away. I knew I had to tread carefully.
There's never a great time to get a flat tire, but it only ever seems to happen at the worst possible moment. I got one. On the front passenger side.
I phoned Emma to let her know I'd be late. She was already in the cab on the way to the restaurant.
It wasn't so much the dirt that I got covered in while I retrieved the spare from under the pick-up truck, or the dirt that I got on me as I pulled the flat off and hoisted the spare on. It was the constant spray and splashing from traffic on the road that completely covered me with oily dirt. I was too far from home to turn around.
I went straight to a Moore's shop, a chain menswear store. "Fix me up gentlemen, I'm already late for my date." They graciously let me use the staff washroom to wash myself as they selected clothing for me.
Within a few minutes and just within two hundred and fifty dollars, I was sporting a new set of slacks, nice shirt, socks and a sports jacket. They had the forethought of giving me a plastic carrier bag to sling over the driver's seat.
I was only an hour and twenty minutes late getting to Giovanni's.
Emma looked lovely perched up at the bar waiting for me. The dress was a wrap around pinkish floral pattern with a plunging neckline. She wore a pearl necklace and pearl earrings. The nose ring was gone. She had light pink lipstick, eye make-up that wasn't just black. Her light pink leather shoes had a high heel to them and her clutch purse matched. Her legs were crossed as she smiled up to me. She looked delicious.
The only thing that ruined the whole picture was the stupid tattoo which stood out in strong contrast.
She toasted me with an empty martini glass. "Hi Sam."
"Emma, you look lovely," I said, "I'm so sorry I'm late."
Before she even spoke another word, I could tell she had indulged in more than one martini. "You look handsome too," she slurred slightly.
Oh boy.
I stood her up onto her feet and gave her a nice kiss. The restaurant wasn't full. "I'm sure our table will be ready," I said.
The maitre-d showed us to our table. I held on to Emma the whole way.
"Is it so bad," I asked as the waiter approached us with menus, "getting dressed like this?" The waiter was a middle aged man with a long nose and slicked back dark hair.
She smiled at me.
"Good evening," the waiter said as he handed us the menus, "may I get you something to drink from the bar?"
"Thank you," we said in unison, Emma was about to say something when I added, "we may have something with dinner."
"Very well then, I'll give you a moment." The waiter whisked himself off.
"It's not so bad is it?" I asked again.
"Sam, let me put it this way. The next time you do something stupid, you're going to be the one wearing a dress and I'm taking you to a tranny bar," she said a little too loud. The people at the next table glared at us. Then, slurring, she added, "The hour and a half wait will be so much fun. I bet you won't have to buy a ffuckin' drink the whole night."
Oh dear.
"So Emma, how many martinis did you have while waiting for me?" She held up one finger. Then a second. Then a third.
Oh boy.
"You should have seen the look on my mum and dad's ffaces as I came downstairs. They wouldn't let me leave until they took a photograph." She slurred the last word a bit.
"I'll bet they were shocked." I said lowering my voice, hoping that she'd get the hint.
"Ffuckin' right they were shocked. And I think they want to give you a medal." She didn't get the hint.
We were disturbing the people at the next table. I studied the menu. I needed to get some food into her right away.
The waiter came by with a little basket of different breads together with a plate of olive oil and balsamic vinegar. Thank you lord.
"Anything to start?" he asked. What's quick I thought.
"Would you like some soup Emma?"
"No thanks."
"Can we just get a quick antipasta to share?" I asked the waiter.
"Certainly sir, antipasto for two," carefully correcting my pronunciation.
"With lots of ssseafood in it." Emma interjected.
"Certainly madam," he smiled, "Are you ready to order, now or would you like a littl
e more time?"
"I think we can order now," I said smiling to Emma, hoping to get this whole thing moving along.