Julia's Second Collection

by McAvoy, Bridy

  “It’s not exactly four-star dining, is it?”

  “Sorry?”

  She turned to the guy on her left, one of the pickers, not the shovellers when it came to the food.

  “Not exactly fine cuisine, is it?”

  “No. Definitely not. Have you made the mistake of trying the coffee?”

  He shook his head and smiled. “No, but thanks for the warning. I take it you like good coffee?”

  She read his nametag. Matt. She thought it was him, but she’d been at the front of the class, and he’d been on the back row, so she was glad of the aid to her memory. Since she was the only woman among the workshop attendees, she doubted he’d have the same problem.

  “You could say that, Matt. Actually, I adore good coffee. It keeps me going through the day. I think I’ll be asleep by three at this rate.”

  He chuckled. “I take it you are Julia then? After our beloved great leader’s faux pas this morning?”

  Julia shivered. It was bad enough being the lone woman in the group, without the somewhat flustered tutor getting her name wrong and calling her Julie at the start of the morning.

  “I don’t think she’s got a lot of experience.”

  “I heard she’s new. Her predecessor left under a cloud.”

  “Oh? How do you know that?”

  “I take it your company is using these guys for the first time?”

  “Yes. Do you always answer a question with a question?”

  “Most of the time.” He chuckled. “We’re upgrading to this version—upgrading yet again, I should say. This is actually my third time through the mill.”

  “Does it get any better?”

  “The food, no, the coffee, we’ll see. I’ll put a complaint in to my contact. We might be able to get that fixed. It worked last time.”

  “Oh?”

  “If it works, they’ll send out this afternoon. There’s a Starbucks around the corner.”

  “Remind me to stop there on the way in tomorrow. If they don’t send out, I’ll bring you one too.”

  “You don’t have to repay me.”

  “I think that’s the best way.”

  He laughed, bringing quick looks from the other end of the table, but they all looked away again, deciding there was nothing of interest going on. “I can think of much better ways.”

  Julia winced. “That’s about the cheesiest pick-up line I’ve heard today.”

  “Why? How many have you heard?”

  “One.”

  “Ah, so it’s also the one most likely to be successful.”

  “None of them are likely to be successful. I’m married.”

  “I know. I did see those rings—almost as beautiful as you.”

  A faint hint of heat told her she was starting to go pink in the face at his continued flirting. She’d just been passing the time of day and discussing the poor buffet and even worse coffee. He had obviously been flirting and, therefore, reading her signals wrong. She thought about it for a second. Maybe she was sending out mixed messages, subconsciously. Maybe she’d had one or two too many adventures, as Max called them, in the last couple of months.

  “That ranks as an even worse line, so congratulations. Your first line is now officially only the second cheesiest line.”

  “Hey, I didn’t realize you were keeping count. Do you keep score on everything you do?”

  “Only the important things.” She could see he was leading up to something, another flirty line, but she wasn’t quite sure what it was. He was quite attractive, in a salt and pepper kind of way, but she was here to learn a new system, not make some more conquests. Still, at least, he was talking to her, unlike the rest of the group that seemed to just ignore her. They were pleasant enough. They’d all said hello at the mixer over the terrible coffee, but they hadn’t attempted to talk to her. “No, I don’t tend to keep count, only where I need to.”

  “So you’re not a notches on the bedpost kind of person, then?”

  She smiled, then decided to tease him a little. At least it would prolong the conversation. She lifted her hand into the air and wiggled it from side to side. “Are you?”

  “Most definitely. I use two bedposts for my notches.”

  She couldn’t help herself. She knew he’d suckered her in, but she couldn’t help asking. “Two?”

  “Yeah. One for the single women, and a different one for the married women.”

  She frowned at him and shook her head. “Next you’ll be telling me the second one has more notches on it.”

  “Nope. Only one.”

  “Only one?”

  “Yeah, I had to replace that post a month ago. I’d just about whittled it down to a toothpick.”

  She’d just taken a mouthful of her insipid, stale sandwich and she almost choked on it as she realized he’d just reeled her in, perfectly. “Ouch. I guess I walked into that one?”

  “Yep. You sure did. Eyes open, hair swinging, butt swaying, and a smile on your face.”

  “The less you say about my butt, the better for your future health.”

  “Why? It’s a very nice butt.”

  “And I’m a married woman.”

  “And you swing it very nicely.”

  “Enough, already.” She laughed, rose to her feet and took her plate away. She eyed the buffet table and resolved to last ʼtil dinner at the hotel. She also decided to have a good, full, early breakfast and stop at Starbucks for a large double shot on the way in, in the morning.

  “Where are you staying?” Matt had come up beside her as she put her plate down.

  “At the Piedmont.”

  “Oh. I didn’t see you this morning.”

  She didn’t remember seeing him either.

  “Listen. There are four of us staying there, and we’re having dinner together. Will you make it five? Can’t be much fun eating alone in a hotel restaurant. It’s bad enough for a man but a woman…”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Must be better than being hit on twenty times an hour the way a beautiful woman like you must be.”

  “You mean like you have been for the last twenty minutes.”

  “I’ve only hit on you once…”

  She held up three fingers.

  “Well, it still counts as once. Will you join us for dinner? The other two guys are local and they’re going to meet us for a drink in the bar afterwards. Break down a few barriers. It’ll do you good, make you feel less isolated.”

  “I guess saying yes is going to be the only way to stop you asking.”

  He laughed again. “That’s not the only question that approach usually works for.”

  “Enough.”

  “Okay, okay. I’ll take that as a yes then. We’ll be in the bar for seven, and the table’s booked for seven-fifteen.” He looked at the food they’d left on their plates, and then over at the buffet table with its unappetizing spread. “Assuming we don’t die of starvation first.”

  * * * *

  “Hi, honey. How’s the course going?”

  “Intense.” She shifted in the bath and the water splashed noisily against the other end. She heard her husband chuckle.

  “Are you in the bath?”

  “As it happens, yes.”

  “Good.”

  “Good?”

  “It means I don’t have to talk you out of your clothes to have phone sex with me.”

  She choked back a giggle. “Is sex the only thing you think about?”

  “Pretty much. Not that I’m any different from you.”

  “Cheek!”

  “It’s a pity it’s not a video phone. We could switch to FaceTime?”

  “No chance. I’m not trusting the hotel’s Wi-Fi system that much.”

  “I’m sure they’ll be secure…or discreet.”

  “Not happening.”

  “Okay, okay.”

  “Besides, they charge by the megabyte and I don’t want to see that kind of data bill on my expenses. They’ll think I’ve been watching por
n.”

  “Instead of making it.”

  “That was for you, buster. Don’t forget it.”

  “And a few thousand others.”

  She fell silent. His reaction to the video she’d made a few weeks ago hadn’t been entirely as she’d hoped. He’d enjoyed it and he’d been a man possessed in bed for the entire weekend, but he had made her promise to never make any others. Even though she had no intention of doing so, his vehemence had surprised her.

  “Anyway, honey, you haven’t called me from your bath just to chat. What’s on your mind?”

  “I want your advice on what to wear for dinner.”

  “You want my advice? On what to wear?”

  “You’re not a parrot.”

  “Sorry. You surprised me, that’s all.”

  “It’s a valid question, sweetheart.”

  “Explain.”

  “Four of the other attendees on the course are staying in this hotel, and I’ve agreed to have dinner with them, rather than eat on my own.”

  “Okay. So you don’t want to out-dazzle the other ladies?”

  “I wish. That would make my choices easy. But they’re all men.”

  “All men?”

  She could hear him chuckling at the other end. Julia waited for her husband to stop laughing.

  “So, I’m not sure what approach to take.”

  “Why? You thinking about pulling one of them? Or are you interested in pulling all of them?”

  “No! I’m not.”

  “Pity. You could have taken a simple approach if you had.”

  “Simple?”

  “Sure. Knock on the hotel room door, nekkid, with a six pack of beer in your hand. It’d work.”

  “Would it work for you?” She knew he’d hear the laughter in her voice.

  “Every time. Turn up naked, bring beer. They should turn it into a slogan.”

  “I think they already did.”

  “So, what are you hesitating about?”

  “Well, do I dress professional casual, and stay very modest, or do I show I’m confident, that I can stand up to be counted in a male dominated society, and flash a bit of flesh?”

  “Or…”

  “Or, go all out to impress—flash a lot of flesh.”

  “You got the wardrobe to do that?”

  She chuckled. “Honey, I’ve got that adjustable dress with me—you know, the blue one. I can keep the side split zipped up, wear a bra underneath and tie the halter tighter and it’s modest, or I loosen the top, unzip the split, go braless and I’d be hanging a Gone Fishing sign round my neck.”

  “I love you in that dress when you tie it loose and forget your underwear.”

  “I know you do, but you’re a thousand miles away and I don’t know any of these four guys. I’d wear it to dinner like that with you.”

  He chuckled and she could sense what he was going to say well before he actually uttered the words.

  “So, wear it like that for me.”

  “What do you mean…for you?”

  “What it sounds like. Wear it like that for me. Knowing that four men are lusting after you will get ʼem hard, and keep me that way all night.”

  “And what if it gets me hot too? Besides, although there’s four of them for dinner, the other two are turning up for a drink afterward.”

  “Are they not staying in the same hotel, then?”

  “No. They’re locals.”

  “Ah, I see. So my gorgeous wife is going to be wined and dined and then find herself in a bar being ogled by six men.”

  “Something like that. Only…”

  “Only what?”

  “I’m not sure they’d all keep their hands to themselves.”

  “So not just ogled, but fondled too?”

  She shuddered, making the bath water slosh again. She had one free hand and, almost unbidden, it slid under the surface of the water, searching for and finding the junction of her legs. She rubbed at her clit and moaned a little, knowing her husband was listening at the other end of the line.

  “Is my naughty girl doing what I think she’s doing?”

  She tried to turn her voice sultry. “Depends on what you think I’m doing?”

  “Playing with your pussy while thinking about six pairs of hands on you, slowly removing your dress, caressing your naked body before pushing you onto a bed and all of them having you.”

  She groaned and then stiffened as a small climax ripped through her.

  “You just came, didn’t you?”

  “Yes.” She gasped between gritted teeth, having somehow managed to keep the phone out of the water. “And it’s your fault.”

  “My fault?”

  “I was thinking about you, right up to the moment you started talking about me taking on all six of them at the same time.”

  “Ah! So you just came thinking about being properly gang-banged.”

  She shuddered. “I suppose so, but you triggered it. The worst thing is, only a couple of them are even close to being nice to look at. The other four are toads.”

  “So you just had an orgasm thinking about being fucked by toads. You really are getting perverted, aren’t you, honey?”

  “Stop it.”

  There was silence at the other end of the line for a few seconds. “I think you’ve demonstrated your own decision there, perfectly in fact.”

  “No. I’ve demonstrated your prurient interest in me getting it on with multiple men.”

  “Oh? Is that so?”

  “Yes.”

  “Then how come you’re the one who just climaxed?”

  Julia bit her lip. She knew he’d heard her, and besides, she’d admitted it, so she couldn’t deny it now. He was right, at least in terms of fantasy. She had one last card to play. “It was a fantasy, not reality if I wear that dress that way…”

  “You run the risk of the getting involved at the center of a gang-bang.”

  “Exactly, it’s fine as a fantasy…” She chuckled “…and its fine for you to fantasize about it happening too, but…”

  “But not for real…?”

  “Correct.”

  “Don’t go and spoil my fantasy by telling me you’re not going to get dolled up all sexy for the evening.”

  “Just remember one thing.”

  “What?”

  “There’s two more nights after tonight, as well, and I’ll need some time to sleep.”

  “That’s what the course is for, honey.”

  “Cheek. I have to learn this stuff.”

  “I know.”

  “Look, this bath is getting cold and…”

  “You need time to get glammed up enough so they can fantasize about getting you into bed, even if you don’t go through with it.”

  “You’re getting good at this.”

  “I know. Just remember, as you get glammed up, I’m going to be sitting here with a beer, rock hard and thinking about you getting down and dirty…”

  “Stop it.”

  “Okay, okay. Love you, honey.”

  “Love you too, Max. Bye.”

  She killed the call and carefully put her cell on the washstand next to the bath before sitting up. The water wasn’t cold, but she was starting to shave her timing a little too fine. Besides, if she’d continued talking to her husband, he’d have been working hard to embed the gang-bang idea inside her brain. Julia knew there was a level at which he’d succeeded, too.

  * * * *

  As the elevator pinged and the doors slid open on the ground floor, Julia took a deep breath before stepping out. Although she’d allowed Max to tease her about not wearing any underwear underneath her dress, she couldn’t bring herself to do so. She had teamed it with a pair of nice silver sandals and white sheer stockings that felt gossamer-thin on her legs. Her bra was a multi-position one, so she’d gone with the strapless option and wore the matching boy-short style white panties. Her hair, though, was down. She’d worn it in a ponytail all day, but she much preferred to let her long red curls
hang naturally, framing her face. The bar was full, and she couldn’t see a single table free in the room. They were packed in close at the bar, too. About halfway along, she finally spotted Matt just as he smiled and waved to her. She could see the way his eyes were drinking in every detail of her outfit, and his smile widened as she got closer. It seemed predatory and she suppressed a shiver, not wanting to give off any kind of nervous vibe.

  “Good evening. Don’t you look scrumptious tonight? Good enough to eat. Screw dinner.”

  She shook her head and sighed theatrically as the other three men turned to look at her.

  “If you’re going to be like that you can eat dinner and screw your hand.”

  The moment the words left her mouth she mentally kicked herself—the opening she’d left was obvious. Quick as a flash, he took it, too. “Ah, so if I behave myself I get to eat dinner and then get to screw…”

  “I wouldn’t finish that sentence if I was you.”

  All four laughed and they shuffled around a little, making room for her in the middle of the little group. Matt offered her a drink and she had a glass of wine, and conversation flowed easily around the group.

  Julia found out Bart, Chas and Alec all worked for the same firm, just at opposite ends of the country, with Bart in Los Angeles, Chas in Houston, and Alec all the way north in Boston. Like Matt, they were what they themselves called re-treads—there for upgrade training to the new version of the sales admin software, unlike Julia who was completely new to the system her company was installing for the first time

  The banter began, though, when she tried to pump them for information.

  “Rule Six, no shop talk.”

  “I’ll second that.” Bart seemed the quietest of the three, but he quickly joined in, in support of Chas’s comment.

  She frowned at the two men making the comments then laughed.

  “Okay. So if it’s no shop talk, can I impose a Rule Seven—no sports?”

  “Rule Seven’s already taken, I’m afraid.”