Yes, Ma'am

by Rachel Kramer Bussel

  He hurried out the front door to his car with his shoulders hunched and his blushing face lowered. He drove quickly away from the street, squirming at the idea that all his neighbors might have been watching. The humiliation was no less intense when he drove into the basement car park of Jennifer’s office building. There were few cars remaining, a sign that most of the office drones who toiled above had driven home for the evening. But there were enough vehicles there for Archie to know that Jennifer was not alone in the office building. The idea of being seen dressed only in her clothes left him bathed in a chilly sweat of fantastic, frustrated embarrassment.

  He hobbled across the car park to the elevators, his heels making each step loud and uncomfortable. As he traveled swiftly up to the twelfth floor, he kept his eyes closed and said a silent prayer that no one—no one—would stop the elevator and join him on his journey.

  His mobile beeped before he had reached the twelfth floor.

  dnt spk 2 me wen u c me. txt only

  And then the doors slid open and Jennifer stood there waiting for him.

  His erection throbbed so hard he feared for one moment that the climax had ripped through his body. She looked divine in her pale blue business suit. The tailored cut accentuated her curves and made her look like the epitome of a forceful yet feminine executive. Jennifer placed a single finger against her pouting lips, reminding him to remain silent, and then nodded her head to encourage him out of the elevator.

  Archie obeyed.

  He followed her to her office, wary of being discovered with every awkward step, fearful of being embarrassed with every passing second, mortified by his situation every time he brooded on what he was doing. Even when they had reached the sanctuary of Jennifer’s office, his nervousness wouldn’t relent. She didn’t fully close the door behind them and he didn’t dare push it shut because he knew Jennifer wouldn’t approve of such a show of independence. Yet that constant fear of discovery did nothing to lessen his arousal. If anything, the idea of having his humiliation compounded by someone else witnessing his predicament only served to make his erection throb with revitalized urgency.

  Jennifer snapped her fingers.

  The unspoken command was enough to ensnare his attention. He watched as she graced him with a slow, seductive smile. And he continued to watch as she shrugged the pale blue jacket from her shoulders and then slid the skirt down over her hips.

  Her blouse concealed her modesty.

  The long tails brushed the tops of her bare thighs.

  Even though the blouse was low cut, he could see little more than a tantalizing glimpse of cleavage. Still holding his gaze with her smile, Jennifer proceeded to pluck open the buttons. Slowly revealing herself to him, first showing a suggestion of her white cotton bra and then exposing the flat expanse of her smooth stomach, she continued releasing the buttons until the blouse was completely open.

  With a casual shiver, she shrugged it from her shoulders.

  Archie admired the spectacle of his beloved ice maiden clad only in plain cotton underwear. The pants and bra were nothing exotic or erotic. But the fact that Jennifer was presenting herself to him in such unusual circumstances branded the image on his thoughts as the most exciting thing he had ever seen.

  She reached for the mobile phone from her desk and keyed in a short message.

  Archie’s mobile beeped. The sound shattered the oppressive silence that thickened the air between them. His bowels were twisted into a knot of anxious excitement. With one shaking hand he picked up the phone and read Jennifer’s single word command.

  undress

  Knowing he couldn’t match the stylish striptease that she had just performed, Archie fumbled his way out of the jacket, skirt and heels. He removed the bra and thong and then slid the stockings from his legs. When he dared to glance at her he saw that, rather than watching him, Jennifer had been folding her clothes and placing them inside her briefcase. It was open and, as he watched, she stepped out of her panties and then removed her bra and placed them with the other clothes.

  His heart had been racing before.

  Now it spurted along with a force so hard and powerful it was the only thing he could hear. The room was dense with silence. His scrotum ached with the desperate need for release. His erection was so painfully hard he could have wailed with the agony it inflicted. He was alone and naked with the woman he revered. They were both aroused and he could conceive of only one possible outcome to the situation.

  Jennifer stepped close to him.

  Her bare body brushed his sweaty flesh. His erection was touched by her thigh. Her breasts caressed his chest and he felt the glorious thrill of an erect nipple kissing his sternum. She treated him to the lightest kiss on his mouth. Her full lips whispered softly against his before sliding away. One hand traced the shape of his hip, and he willfully resisted the climax that threatened to be wrenched from his body.

  Then she was moving away from him.

  Retrieving one of his discarded stockings from the floor, she picked it up and rolled it over her left leg. He watched with bemused pleasure as she put on the second stocking and then added the bra and pants. He was briefly reminded of the ludicrous spectacle he had presented while wearing her lingerie. The contrast of Jennifer’s divine body encased in the underwear was enough to reinforce the notion of how ridiculous he had looked.

  He blushed furiously.

  Jennifer pulled on the jacket and then the skirt before stepping into the heels.

  His erection refused to subside.

  The hard length of flesh twitched with renewed force when Jennifer stepped close to him and stroked one finger along the length of his shaft. She paused, moved her hand to the base of his cock, and then cupped her warm fingers around the taut sac of his balls. Gently—ever so gently—she squeezed.

  Archie closed his eyes and fought valiantly against the urge to climax. The moment of release was almost upon him but he didn’t want to disappoint her by showing himself to be so weak and ineffectual that a simple caress was enough to elicit his climax. He kept his eyes squeezed shut until the urge to ejaculate had passed.

  When he opened his eyes, he realized Jennifer was no longer in the office. Archie stood naked and alone, his erection still solid and his thoughts constantly returning to the worry that someone might come into the office while Jennifer was away. How he might explain his naked presence in a senior manager’s office was something he couldn’t begin to contemplate. It was almost a relief when his mobile beeped and offered him the distraction of reading another text message rather than brooding on the predicament she had forced him to endure. As he was retrieving the Nokia from her desk, Archie noticed that her briefcase and his keys were missing. His arousal returned with renewed force as he read Jennifer’s message and understood the final humiliation she had planned for him.

  c u @ home. make yor own way bak

  ROPE BURN

  A. D. R. Forte

  I first saw her at the bar of Troutbeck’s VIP suite at the stadium, tossing back a beer, her long hair pulled into a tight ponytail, the sleeve of her shirt sliding upward to reveal a toned arm as she lifted the glass. Tough girl. But the rest of her didn’t fit the tough image, from the pointy high-heeled shoes to the strands of necklaces that glittered and bounced and swung against the generous curves her gauzy shirt and tank top did nothing to hide. She was perched on the leather barstool like a tiny doll. Oh, but she was all woman.

  She stood out among the pressed and painted cover girls and trophy wives around her as if she sat in a spotlight. And she paid attention to none of it, drinking her beer and talking to Jay the bartender, occasionally giving a smile and a few minutes to some poor soul who wandered close enough to be noticed. I set out to do more than be noticed.

  I waited until a slow moment when Jay was standing near her and then made my move. I walked up, high-fived Jay and gave him a grin. Didn’t even look in her direction.

  “What up, man?”

  “Not much,
not much, D. What can I get ya?”

  I tried to keep my cool. To not show I felt her presence like a physical touch standing that close to her.

  “Rum and coke,” I told him.

  He walked off and only then did I turn, as if noticing her for the first time. I introduced myself, she took my hand and I forgot everything I meant to say as pleasure ran all through my body and down into my pants at her touch. Never mind that my hand completely covered hers, she shook it firmly and looked me right in the eye.

  Looked right through me with those dark, oval eyes when she didn’t find anything there to interest her, and I felt myself fumbling for the next thing to say so I wouldn’t be dismissed. Not yet.

  I’d gotten too accustomed to easy conquests, to women willing to do near about anything for my attention. I’d forgotten what it was like to be the shy, awkward guy the girls don’t have the time of day for, but with one glance she’d thrown me back ten years and several million dollars. I could tell none of it mattered to her. My fame, my Super Bowl ring, it meant nothing. I was just another poor fool taking up her time.

  “I’m Nova,” she told me.

  “Nova…”

  “It’s a pretty name. Yeah, I know.” She smiled and released my hand.

  For half a second I was furious, then I realized she wasn’t being a bitch. She was laughing at herself and laughing at me, but she hadn’t dismissed me even if she had read me like a book.

  “Not trying to be rude,” she said, “but I hear it enough. Too much sometimes.”

  I apologized, feeling like an idiot for doing it. But somehow I needed to be on my Ps and Qs with her.

  Jay brought my drink over and stayed to talk. He was the reason she was there; he’d invited her to tonight’s party even though this wasn’t her crowd. Big surprise there.

  “I don’t know a football from a basketball,” she said. “So why I’m here I don’t honestly know. Other than that Jay thinks I need to get out more.” She looked at him and rolled her eyes.

  “Well, you do,” Jay replied. He winked and walked away again to attend to a customer. She only shook her head.

  “So why does he think you need to get out more? Don’t take this the wrong way, but you don’t strike me as the homebody type.”

  She shrugged. “I guess I just don’t have the time. I’m usually doing something else.” She taught dance and did cover art and graphic design. Built furniture for fun and sold it at trade shows in the summer.

  “Wow. Do you ever sleep?”

  She laughed. “Occasionally. I just…I don’t know. I have to be shaping things, making things…” Her hands traced patterns in the air. “I get fidgety when I don’t create.” She lapsed into silence and looked down, frowning. Did she think she’d said too much? All I could think was how much I adored her.

  “Well, I consider myself lucky you did come tonight,” I said with a smile.

  She didn’t give me a look of disgust and I was glad because I’d meant it.

  “Thanks, Dustin. And I’m glad to have met you too, but I don’t want you to get the wrong idea either.” She glanced around the lounge and a tired expression crossed her face. She really didn’t want to be here, I thought. “I came because Jay asked. I thought it might be fun, I might meet some new people. But I’m not looking.”

  She swung her gaze back to me, saying more with that look than she had with her words: She wasn’t available. She wasn’t another gold digger here with her spade ready to make a killing. And she wasn’t interested.

  I shouldn’t have cared, not for a woman so obviously unimpressed when I could easily have had my attentions returned elsewhere, but there is something to that idea about wanting what you can’t have. More than that, I wanted her. And I don’t like to be second best; I don’t like to lose.

  We talked for two hours—she gave me that much—but seeing her again was out of the question. Even a phone call.

  “I’d rather not, I’m sorry.” She shook her head at me, shook her head at Jay when he tried to refill her glass. “In fact, it’s time I was going.”

  I don’t like to beg, either, but for her I begged. “At least let me get you tickets to a game,” I protested when all my entreaties had been shot down.

  “What would I do with them?” she said, smiling, shaking her head. “It would be a waste on me when I’m sure there are other people who’d love to be there.”

  It wounded my pride a little, but I hid it. I had to remind myself she’d been honest with me. I might as well have been a garbage collector asking her to go on my rounds with me instead of asking her to my game. It meant the same in her world. For the first time in a long time, I was about to lose.

  “Okay, I give,” I said at last. “But maybe if you change your mind, you’ll tell Jay? He can let me know.”

  She smiled, a tilted, mysterious little smile.

  “If I change my mind.”

  Her tone said there was no hope, but something in those brown eyes told me otherwise.

  “We do have more in common than you realize,” I told her.

  “We do?”

  “We’re both equally stubborn.”

  She laughed. “I’m not so sure about equally,” she said. I had no idea what that was supposed to mean and she wouldn’t elaborate.

  “Thank you for a nice evening, Dustin. Good night.”

  And that was the end of it.

  Game over and she was 1-0.

  I thought about her. Too much. I admit it, I Googled her. I found her art online and bought two of her prints, because she didn’t have any originals for sale and it would have been too obvious. The prints I bought reminded me of her: otherworldly landscapes like you’d find on a sci-fi book cover. I hung them in the den and stared at them, trying to imagine what had inspired her when she drew them, whether these were among her favorites or if she hated the end results.

  I wore myself out at practice, getting an ass-chewing more than once for overdoing it. But the physical ache in my muscles was better than the longing. I began to realize she might never call and I was driving myself crazy for nothing. I went out a few times with my boys, but irrational guilt kicked in: I had no right to chase after other women. Like I already belonged to her, ball and chain and all.

  At confession, I repented the carousing, but I didn’t mention my thoughts of her. I couldn’t imagine giving voice to those.

  I told myself I was acting like a psychopath and not a rational adult, but it didn’t help. I wondered how long I could keep going like this and still keep up the appearance of being sane. Probably not that long at this rate, because like it or not, I was obsessed.

  Then I got her voice mail.

  “Hi. It’s Nova.” How had she gotten my cell number? Who the hell cared?

  “I know it’s been a while but if you’d still like to get together, I was thinking maybe we could do lunch some day next week. I know you like Cajun and I have the perfect place in mind. Give me a call if you’re interested.”

  I hung up and sat at my kitchen table holding the phone like it was a copperhead I’d just managed to capture that would either leave me bleeding and poisoned or wriggle away and escape if I wasn’t careful. My head was pounding. She had called, Jesus, she had actually called, and I was about to be relieved from this hell she’d left me in since that night. Or so I thought.

  I grinned like a kid and punched in her number.

  “If you blink, you’ll miss the place,” she had told me. “But the food is amazing.”

  She wasn’t kidding either. Tucked into a corner lot on a side street, it was easy to miss, but it smelled amazing and it wouldn’t have mattered even if the place was a dump because she was waiting for me, sitting at a covered table outside and reading a paperback. The picture of a boy’s dream come true.

  She smiled when she saw me pull up, stuffed the book into her purse and came to meet me at the restaurant door. Standing on tiptoe, because even the spiked heels weren’t enough to negate our difference in heig
ht, she kissed my cheek. I didn’t know how to respond. Suddenly stupid, I pawed at the door, somehow got it open, and she slid past me with that uneven little smile again that I remembered from our first night. It was a smile that gloated just a tiny bit, but why?

  From any other woman I would have known what it meant: getting what she wanted. But what did my delicate Nova want? And how had I given it to her? I wanted to please her, of course, in any way I could, but I was lost. Totally in the dark except for where she led me.

  Why was I doing this to myself? I wondered, as I stood at the counter and stared at the plastic-covered menu so I wouldn’t stare at her ass. Why did I pursue her when all she did was give me confusion and discontent? I didn’t have an answer. All I knew was that it was a compulsion. I had to be with her, just like I had to play. It drove me and there was no denying it, not unless I denied myself.

  I looked up, into her indulgent smile.

  “Having trouble making up your mind?”

  My face burned.

  “Yeah, I’m having a hard time thinking.”

  She laughed and I was happy because I’d amused her. I gave my order to the patiently waiting girl behind the counter who punched it in, and before I could reach for my wallet, Nova had handed her card to the girl.

  “Oh no, come on now…” I began, but she silenced me with a look.

  “This was my idea, remember?” And as much as I wanted to argue, as much as my pride demanded I argue, I knew I couldn’t contradict her. I was subject to her rules.

  “So, what made you change your mind?” I asked when we sat, me stirring sugar into my tea, she drinking hers plain after she’d extracted the lemon slice and dropped it into my glass.

  She sipped her tea and waited until I looked at her.

  “I wanted to see you. I told you the truth that night, I wasn’t looking. I haven’t been, for some time.”