reflections

One Hit Wonders-Hotel Atlanta

It was January 2004.  I’d been invited by my boss to accompany her to a conference in Atlanta.  Translation:  she needed a wingman/sidekick/bad girl to hang out with her at this boring 3-day conference.  I was happy to oblige. I enjoyed any opportunity to let my hair down and sow some oats.

Her name was Jane and she was simply beautiful. She had the facial structure of Angelina Jolie, with dark auburn hair. She was tall and statuesque. Men noticed her. And you put us together with my long dark wavy hair, full lips and hourglass body, and we caused quite a stir. On our first night there, we sat at the hotel bar chatting over happy hour drinks, when we were approached by two older gentlemen.  They sat down with us and struck up a conversation. Before long, we were having dinner with them. They were from Boston, there on business with large expense accounts and even larger…egos.  We grew tired of their posturing and excused ourselves soon after dinner.

We were both tired from the day’s events and retired to our room. Since I was not a paid attendee of the conference (I was just there for Jane) I had to share a room with her.  It was no big deal, as there were 2 queen beds and a bathroom mirror large enough to accommodate us both getting ready at the same time. It was all good. We put on our pajamas, cracked open a bottle of wine and had cocktail confessions. It was like a grown-up sleepover. We laughed and giggled for hours. Jane was just as wild as me.  We shared stories of our escapades, as we finished up the wine and moved on to a fresh new bottle of gin. We were both sauced when Jane spilled an entire drink on her bed.  It was soaked.

“Guess I will just have to bunk up with you tonight!” she exclaimed.  And we laughed and drank some more. It was approaching 2:00 am, when we finally ran out of mixer and decided to go to sleep. She and I said our good-nights and crawled into my bed.  I was beginning to dose off when I felt her hand on me. I had my back to her, but felt her playing with my hair. At first, I didn’t know what to do. I’d been with women at different times in my life, but it had been years…and this was my boss. I began thinking about how she would feel, how she would taste and I slowly rolled over to face her. She looked at me and stroked my face.

“You know me spilling that drink was no accident, don’t you? I’ve wanted you since I hired you. But I don’t want you to do anything that would make you uncomfortable. I just want you to know the door is open.”

And without thought, or hesitation, I leaned over and kissed her soft mouth. I don’t remember the specifics, but I do remember that we flung off the covers and sat up in the middle of the bed kissing while we undressed each other. She pulled me into her body, facing me away from her as she massaged my spot, making me cum almost immediately. I could not wait to taste her as I opened her legs and found that she was dripping wet with anticipation. I made her wait for it, teasing her by kissing her inner thighs, avoiding her sweet cunt, until she could not stand it any longer.  We fucked all night.  No inhibitions. No limits. Insatiable.  We finally collapsed as the sun rose, getting about 2 hours of sleep before we had to wake up. I heard her in the shower when I shuffled into the bathroom for a drink of water.

“Good morning, you.” she said from behind the shower curtain, “how did you sleep?”

“I didn’t get much sleep, but I feel rested,” I replied.

“Yeah, me too.” she snickered.  She soon made her way out of the shower and I jumped in.  We went about our day as if nothing had happened.  There was no awkwardness.  No shame. No difference in how we were than before it happened. I was glad.  I didn’t want there to be any strangeness.

That evening she had made plans for us to go to a local night spot for dancing.  We ate a quick dinner and hopped a cab to the club.  We danced for hours.  She found a “friend” and went back to his place.  He was a strapping young lad and I knew she was in for a good time.  I’d met a few fellas, but no one that really interested me, so I went back to the hotel. As the cab approached the door to the lobby, a man that was standing out front opened my door, “Good evening.  Let me help you out.”

I smiled and said, “Thank you. And they say chivalry is dead.”

He said, “I am proof that is not true. Let me show you.  Come have a drink with me.”

And I thought…what the hell.  Why not?

Over some very dirty Martini’s I found out he was from Ohio and was attending the same conference that we were. He mentioned seeing me during one of the workshops and wanting to ask me to dinner, but not having the opportunity.  He was nice looking and smart.  And married, like me.  He was charming and I’d already made up my mind to fuck him senseless before the night was over.

After several drinks, I excused myself for the evening.  He insisted on walking me to my room.  I knew the routine…we would kiss…our clothes would end up in a pile on the floor….we would fuck…he would leave and that would be that.  But when we got to my room, he froze.  No kiss.  No move.  Nothing.  I didn’t make a move either, I was expecting him to.  Before I knew it, he was walking away to his room.  I shrugged it off.  I would have liked to have had wild, crazy sex with a stranger, but if it was not in the cards…that was okay too.

I had just gotten undressed when I heard a tap at the door.  I peered out of the peep hole and saw him standing there.  I answered the door with nothing on but a towel, wondering if he had finally gotten up the nerve to seal the deal.  He saw me standing there barely covered and it was on.

We kissed as we made our way to the bed.  I still had the towel on, but he reached up and pulled it off of me. I began taking off his shirt and pants.  When I pulled down his boxer briefs, I was in shock. I was not expecting him to be packing.  He seemed so unsure of himself. But this fella was hung like Seabiscuit.  I was in awe.  Regardless if he had skills or not, I knew exactly what to do with that.  I could not wait to have him inside me.

After he fumbled with the condom, I finally got my wish.  His cock was so large that I felt a tinge of pain as he pushed himself inside. I loved it. He wasn’t aggressive enough for me, so I took the lead and mounted him. I don’t remember how many times I came, but I loved fucking him.  After a couple of rounds, he got dressed and left, just as Jane came in.  I told her about him and she told me about her night.  She’d had a great time with a young cowboy.  He was not as well endowed as my guest, but she had lots of fun.

And although her bed was in pristine condition, no drinks spilled on it that night, she chose to sleep with me. We didn’t do anything but sleep…tangled up and naked, both of us sated. The morning came and we were back to business as usual.  We maintained a great working friendship and never crossed that line again.  And although we work in different states, we are still friends, and Jane is just as beautiful.

jane

(Photo credit, Pinterest)

On the Job Training

He was in his mid twenties.  Fresh out of college and ready to save the world.  He’d just finished his Masters degree in Social Work and he was on a mission. We already had a full time social worker, so he settled for a job in activities…just to get his foot in the door in healthcare.  His name was Mike.

Initially, I wasn’t attracted to him at all.  Keep in mind, Greg and I were still seeing each other on occasion, and I had no intentions of juggling more than what I already had…the one at home and the one at work. But Mike was such a nice guy…clean cut…well-dressed…punctual…polite.  He was great with the patients, although he was lacking in variety.  They did the same activities over and over.  Other than the repetition, he was doing a good job.

One evening, I was working late trying to catch up with my documentation.  He happened to be there also.  We spoke in the hall and I noticed him walking by my office a few times. I could tell he wanted to say something, but didn’t.  The next time I saw him walk by, I looked up and said, “Hey Mike!  How late are you working tonight?”

He seemed relieved that I’d spoken first.  He walked in my office, almost nervous, and said,”I don’t know.  I am waiting on my roommate to pick me up and he’s late.  I can’t get him on the phone. So I may be stuck here for a long time.”

I sincerely felt bad for him.  He was from another state, so he had no family here.  All he had were his co-workers and roommates.  I’d heard him say the he was saving up to get a new car, as his was beyond repair.  I thought…why not?  “Mike, let me give you a ride home tonight.  There’s no need for you to wait around all night.  I will be ready in about 15 minutes.  Does that work for you?”

He perked up, “Yes Ma’am.  That’s great!  Thank you!”

I was a little perplexed that he’d referred to me as “ma’am” but I was older than him, so I let it go without much thought.  When it was time to leave, he met my outside by my SUV.  He stood at the driver’s side and opened my door for me, which was a surprising nice touch.  As I drove him home, he asked if we could stop by a gas station.  I thought he needed something, but instead he walked inside and paid for gas for me.  I thought…WOW…this kid was raised right!

We pulled up to his place around 8:00.  He thanked me for the ride and walked inside.  When I arrived at work the next day, there was a cup of coffee on my desk, with a note, “Thanks for the ride, Ms. Tessa.  Enjoy your coffee”  What a sweetheart!  Then Greg walked into my office and said, “where did you get coffee?”

I smiled and said, “Mike got it for me. I gave him a ride home last night.”

I could tell he was not pleased. He smirked, “Yeah, he’s had eyes for you since he got here. Watch those young ones.  They are trouble.” And with that he walked out, heading to the morning meeting.  Whoa…I had no idea he was the jealous type.  I kind of liked it.

I arrived at the morning meeting a bit late (as always) and there were no other chairs  left for me to sit down. Dammit! It’s no fun standing in there for 30 minutes, trying to balance coffee and a notepad.  But before I could blink, Mike got up from his seat and motioned for me to take his seat.  I was reluctant at first, but I gave in.  My stilettos were high and my motivation was low…so it was a welcomed seat.  I could feel Greg’s eyes watching and I knew he was not happy.  But he liked standing up, so he didn’t have a seat to offer me.

After the meeting, I walked into my office and began my day.  It was super busy and before I knew it, it was lunchtime. I went to the break room to retrieve my lunch and Mike was in there, eating his sandwich.  I planned to eat in my office, but he pulled out a chair beside him and I felt obligated to join him  “How has your day been, Ms. Tessa?” he asked.

“It’s been busy, so your coffee hit the spot this morning.  Thank you. That was sweet of you.”  I caught him blushing as he said, “You’re welcome, Ms. Tessa”

I had to say it…”You do realize that I am only about five years older than you, don’t you?  You don’t have to call me Ms. or ma’am.  It’s sweet, but not necessary.”

He blushed again…poor thing. “I’m sorry.  I just wanted you to know how much I respect you.”

And then I saw it…what Greg was referring to…the boy had a crush on me.  Bless his heart.  “Mike, you are such a kind soul.  I appreciate your intention.  By the way, how’s the car search going?”

“It’s going.  Only have to save another few paychecks to put the money down I need.” And I made an executive decision.  This young man was trying so hard…trying to make it on his own, that I needed to help him.

“Let me know if you ever need a ride.  I am glad to do what I can to help you.” and with that, I walked out.

A few days later, Mike stopped by my office.  “Is there any way you could give me a ride today?”  I was happy to help him.  When 5:00 arrived, he was at my office, ready to go.  I was bringing home a stack of files and before I could pick them up, he had them. It felt like he was carrying my books after school.  We got to the car and once again, he opened my door.  I took him home a few times over the next few weeks.

This infuriated Greg.  We were growing apart before all of this, but his attitude towards Mike pushed me further away.  We’d been seeing each other for over a year and we were approaching an impasse. We’d gone as far as we could go in our situation, and it was time to slowly back away.  So we decided to be friends…without benefits.

And Mike and I became closer.  He was such a sweet and charming young man, that the thought of crossing the line, never crossed my mind. But one day, as I drove him home he put his hand on mine as we approached his apartment.

“Tessa, I really like you in a way that I probably shouldn’t.  And if you are not interested, I will never mention it again. But if you are, I’d love for you to come inside and let me show you how much I care for you.”

Speechless, I didn’t know what to say.  I didn’t know what to do. I knew I would blow his young mind and then I’d have a ‘stage 5 clinger’ on my hands. But I was intrigued.  It took serious balls to say what he did and it made me wonder if he didn’t have some swagger hidden underneath that college boy demeanor.

So I threw the car in park and leaned over to kiss him. That would tell me what I needed to know. And it left me breathless, wanting more.  He walked over to my side of the car, opened the door, took my hand and led me into his apartment.  His roommate was working 2nd shift, so we were alone.

Clothes began coming off in the doorway. He was a passionate kisser and seemed very experienced at removing a bra…Hmmm, maybe he has some chops.  Then he backed me up to the kitchen counter and pulled my panties down.  He knelt in front of me, lifting me by the legs with his shoulders, propping me up on the counter.  He spread me open and tasted my wetness as if I were a delicacy.  His tongue was long and adept and he knew how to drive me to the edge.  He made me cum right there in his kitchen.

He walked me to his room, laying me down on his bed.  “I cannot wait to feel inside you.  I have wanted you from the time we met.”  He positioned himself on top of me, opening my legs with his hips.  Looking into my eyes he pushed himself inside.  He let out a long moan. Grasping my hips he pushed deeper, making me scream. We developed a hypnotic rhythm as our bodies fused together.  He took my hands in his and we stared in each others eyes as we climaxed.  It was intensely hot and I wanted more.

For weeks we carried on like that.  After work.  Before work.  At lunch.  The sex was hot and exciting.  In his youthful form, he was able to rebound in a matter of minutes.  So we fucked.  A lot.  We became consumed by our addiction to each other.  On the flip side, I was becoming more and more successful at work.  My new little tryst proved to be energizing for me.  I was number one in the company for three months in a row.  I attribute it to being happy and sated.  Even Greg noticed a change in me…but thankfully, he never figured out that Mike was the cause of it.  I was flourishing!  I made sure all of my work was done in a timely manner, so I could leave at 4:30 and have time to get my brains fucked out before going home.  

Mike didn’t fare so well. He was stuck in a perpetual love hangover.  He fell head over heels in love with me and didn’t focus on his work.  I tried to help him in any way I could. I even stopped seeing him for a while trying to rid him of the distraction, but he was too far gone.  The poor guy was lovesick.  Literally.  He gave up on his job and became obsessed with us.  I told him the rules from the beginning, no falling in love…but he allowed himself to fall hard.

Soon after, I was promoted to a regional position that required I travel all the time.  I later found out that Mike was let go. He wasn’t showing up for work. He was missing activities. He was a total mess.  He is the reason for the old adage…“don’t put your meat where you make your bread.” Some people cannot handle it.

About 7 years ago, I saw him at a workshop.  He landed a great job in social services, helping foster children…perfect for what he wanted.  He was engaged to one of his co-workers (imagine that) and he looked happy.  I was genuinely tickled to see him.  We hugged and reminisced for a few, and then went our separate ways.  I keep up with how he’s doing through a mutual friend, but we’ve not talked since.  I am glad he is doing well.

Looks like all that on-the-job-training served him well.  Bless his heart!   

hungry

(Photo credit, Pinterest)

 

 

Incognito

Birds of a feather flock together…

Great minds think alike…

Two peas in a pod…

Two of a kind…

And I am sure there are dozens more cliches out there to explain why we pair off or group ourselves with like-minded people.  Maybe it’s a shared interest.  A shared belief.  A lifestyle.  A religion.  Whatever it is, we tend to surround ourselves with people who are similar to us.

But what if your true self…who you are at your core…is shrouded?  Hidden.  Neatly tucked behind the corners of your enigmatic smile and charming personality (not that you are a maniacal serial killer or anything) and it’s something that those in your circle know nothing of?  Does that mean you are living a lie, or is it self-preservation?  Is it being a private person?  Does anyone really need to know your private self?

Does the universe find a way of revealing you to those who can see and understand the real you?

Here’s my point…

No matter where I go…I find that there’s always at least one in the crowd who sees me as I really am.  The whole person.  Not just the focused career-driven woman that takes charge and gets shit done…No, not only the sweet single mother who bakes cookies with her kids…No.  Not even the lady who will let you ahead of her in line, if you only have a few items.  NO.  Yet, there are a few who see all of that and still see the man (woman) behind the curtain.

I’ve come to a conclusion that it’s simply the law of attraction…that “like attracts like” and those who reveal us are also shrouded.  (Stay with me, I promise…I have a point).  I keep this other side of me, this obsidian side, with all of my trysts and licentious behavior, buried deep behind a lovely, but far from perfect, facade.  And yet still, a few can see me.  And in turn, I can see them.  It’s funny…it’s almost like there’s a label written in invisible ink across my forehead, that can only be deciphered by those with the same insignia.

This came to mind today at work.  I am working with a charming, take charge woman in her mid/late 40’s.  By all accounts, she is professional, smart, pretty and kind.  She knows her line of business and expects those around her to perform at their best.  She’s a strong leader.  Yet, I could see her label.  And I think she could see mine.

Like me, she prefers a submissive role in relationships.  She also has a string of past lovers that she entertains on occasion.  She has an free-spirited nature that spills into her private life and I suspect she is a bit wild and adventurous.  I have a sneaky feeling she’s in to role play and bondage.  To look at her, you would not see it.  But for those of us with a different perception, it’s obvious.

How is that?  is there some code word, or subliminal message in covert mental Morse code that alerts us to small nuances that we recognize within ourselves?  I don’t have the answer.  But this happens to me frequently.  The drill instructor I described a few posts back, was the first to name it as the law of attraction.  Within moments of meeting me, he could see exactly who I was.  He could sense exactly what I needed.  There was no judgment.  No agenda.  He just knew.  It’s a bit scary and comforting at the same time.  There’s an acceptance and camaraderie knowing that you are in like company.

Which brings me to…

You can run, but you can’t hide.  And as much as I strive to be incognito, there is always someone there who knows who I really am.

I think Anais Nin says it perfectly, “I take pleasure in my transformations. I look quiet and consistent, but few know how many women there are in me.”

women inside