Mrs. Hardison Ch. 01

"Wanting to help out has now cost you your job," she states.

"No, I lost my job because you can be a real bitch at times and you don't like being told that. Sure you are bright, meticulous, and hard-working but no one likes you," I say.

"If you hate me so much why are you in this car with me," she asks.

"Bitch is a character trait; hate is an emotion," I explain to her. "I don't hate you. Hell, I kind of admire you. You are the youngest director ever. People may not like you, but I've never had anyone say you were unfair; you kick ass indiscriminately."

"I am glad I meet you approval," she replies sarcastically.

"Don't do that," I sigh. "It isn't about approval. I know you don't care what I think of you but don't belittle me for being honest." We drove the rest of the way back to her place in silence. Only when we got inside did she say anything.

"I apologize," she grinds out as if making some great concession, which for her it probably was.

"Thank you," I say calmly.

"I can have Chinese delivered," she tells me.

"How about pizza?" I suggest. She gets this far off expression in her eyes.

"I haven't had pizza in ages," she mutters. "Sure, let's get some pizza." An hour later we are sitting cross-legged on the floor of her TV room flipping channels. Now that I get to look around this place with clear eyes not clouded by fear and worry I realize this home is pristine. It doesn't look like anyone actually lives here.

"Do you like my things?" she surprises me.

"They are very you," I answer.

"But?"

"I'm a cluttered guy; I like a little mess here and there. I mean, I get laundry done on laundry day and I get the dishes done twice a week. Your place is very beautiful and orderly but it isn't for me," I explain.

"Thank you I think," she replies.

"You have a lot of pride, which I mean as a compliment," I inform her.

"I have much to be proud about Mr. Duarte," she begins.

"Eddie; please call me Eddie," I interrupt her.

"And that is more than I can say for you," she finishes.

"I really don't need it," I respond, "and if I do I'll borrow some from you," I joke. She doesn't laugh.

"Why do I put up with you?" she said seriously as she furrows her brow.

"I believe I'm your only friend," I remind her.

"Since when have we been friends?" she questions.

"Since you picked me up from my place to come back here," I answer. That brings her up short.

"I could always send you home."

"Yes, if that is what you want me to do, but I don't want to go. I like you," I tell her. She stops looking at me and goes back to staring at the television for thirty minutes.

"I'm going to bed now," she says as she stands up.

"I'll come with you," I respond. She stops and glares at me. "I'll sleep above the comforter and on the far side of the bed. I only want to be close to you in case you need me in the night."

She ignores me and heads upstairs so I grab my backpack and follow. We take turns in the bathroom before heading into her bedroom. She snuggles in before I take the far side of the bed. This time I stay awake for some time, working in my head the past twenty-four hours and create the basic framework of how I'm going to survive for the next few weeks.

I hear the covers rustle and Gloria moves over to me, putting a hand on my chest and draping a leg over mine.

"Hold me," she orders. I comply for a variety of reasons, but mostly I know how hard it is for her to ask for anything from anybody.

(Sunday)

I have a face full of hair when I wake up. It smells good like what I imagine real honeysuckle is like. My hand is on her stomach and my hips are pressed against her backside. It dawns on me my morning wood is going to be highly inconvenient, maybe even terrifying for her. I try to edge my hips back and away.

"I'm awake," she tells me.

"I'm sorry," is all I can muster. "If I'm bothering you I can get up." She mulls that over for a while.

"No, I'm okay. Let us lay here for a while ... if you like."

"Can I tell you something that you won't take the wrong way?" I hazard. Again, a pause.

"Very well," she sighs.

"You smell really good," I sigh right back at her," more like fantastic. You are what a real woman should smell like; fresh and enticing."

"How can I not take that the wrong way?" she says.

"Can't a man call you a beautiful woman without trying come on to you? I'm calling it the way I see it and you are very attractive and way out of my league," I explain.

"Oh ... okay." It takes me a minute to realize we haven't moved. When she rolls over to face me I see a look of uncertainness in her eyes.

"I'm lonely," she tells me.

"I'll stay as long as you want me to, but I need something from you," I respond.

"What is that?" she wonders.

"I need to use your computer for my job search. As you told me I'm not very financially stable," I joke.

"You are a pain in my ass," she comments with some hint of friendliness.

"I thought you rolled over so I wouldn't be a pain in your ass," I joke back.

"Are you ever serious?" she grouses.

"I think you need someone to make you laugh, even if that means you laugh at me instead of with me," I tell her. She then does something that scares the crap out of me and I've already had my fill of fear this weekend; she strokes my cheek and gets all teary-eyed.

"Where were you fifteen years ago," she whispers.

"In first grade," I tease her.

"I sometimes forget how young you are," she chuckles. "I could get in so much trouble for having you here with me."

"For what? We are no longer co-workers and we haven't done anything except talk and sleep under the same roof," I point out.

"I've always despised desperate older women who pick up young studs to make them feel special," she confides in me.

"Gloria you are neither old nor desperate and the only girl who has ever called me a stud was drunker than I was," I respond. She can't help but smile.

"I'm forty-one," she states.

"I'm twenty-two. Do we have to go down the 'you are smoking hot and me being a sexist' road again?" I taunt her.

"You treat women like disposable intersections in your life," she says painfully.

"What makes you think that? I spend time with women but I don't consider them disposable. We have fun together because we are young and not looking for long term hook-ups. You may have noticed I get along fine with both of the women I've had affairs with and neither minds one another."

"I thought it might be that you were good at manipulating women," she confides.

"Damn it Gloria," I groan, "not everything is part of a five year plan. Take a night off and let your hair down.

"I can't," she responds. I hug her to me because I don't know what else to do. At first I think she's pushing me away then I realize she's rubbing her hands along my chest. She sighs and presses her face into my chest, inhaling deeply several times.

"I've missed this," she whispers. I stroke her hair. "I can't remember the last time I wanted a man to hold me, or would even let one get away with it."

"Take as long as you want," I say softly. "I'm here as long as you need me." This causes her to bunch her hands up in my shirt scratching the skin underneath. I feel her tears soaking into the fabric.

"His name was Mr. Vance. He was the director before me and the day after my first promotion he came to my office after dark. He forced himself on me, telling me this was how I was going to get ahead in the corporation. I fought him but he was too strong. It hurt like hell," she hiccups.

"After that I told myself that if I went to the cops it would be his word against mine on whether it was consensual -- it would look like I paid for my promotion with sex. He was like you, very popular in the company. Then he came back again and again, giving me little gifts and telling me I was going to go far in the company."

"I couldn't let any other man touch me, even my husband. When he found the gifts he thought I was having an affair and divorced me. I allowed it to happen because I wanted to keep my job; to succeed. In a year he got tired of me and moved on to someone else no doubt. I let that happen as well. I lost everything but my job so my job became my life."

At this time she totally breaks down and loses it. I am sure she has never told anyone this and I am not sure why she is telling me. She cries herself asleep and I gently rock her back and forth until I'm sure she is deeply asleep. I sneak downstairs and rustle up some breakfast and bring the trays of food back to the bed. The smells wake her up and she stares at me with red-rimmed eyes.

"Breakfast in bed? Uh, whoa ... you certainly know how to impress a girl," she sniffles.

"Don't say that until you eat my cooking," I smile. I set my tray down at the foot of the bed and let her scoot up in the bed before putting her tray in front of hers. I join her when this is done. Gloria nibbles on the food then dug in when she decided she liked it.

She devours everything then boldly takes a piece of bacon off my plate. When she comes back for seconds I smack her hand with my fork. Her eyes open in shock, looking at me, her hand and back to me.

"You hit me," she stutters.

"Reach for my bacon again and I'll hit you harder," I challenge her. She still looks stunned.

"Can I have a piece of bacon?" she asks. I hand her my last piece of bacon which she eats it with dainty bites. "Breakfast was nice, thank you. Do you mind waiting outside? I would like to change into some workout clothes and use my treadmill for a bit."

Seeing Gloria come out in a sports bra and tight shorts doesn't do my blood pressure or groin any good. She gives me a quick glance then heads downstairs

"Come with me," she commands. Part of me goes 'she's not my boss', but part of me is entranced by the shapes and curves of her body so I tag along.

She is working out on the treadmill and I've made my way over to her weight machine when she speaks.

"I've been thinking about giving you your job back."

"Thank you; I agree but only if you accept that this won't impact our working relationship," I smile. She stops the treadmill and frowns at me.

"I repeat; can't you ever be serious?" she grumbles.

"I'd rather make you happy," I reply. She takes a looks down and growls.

"I'm trying to do you a favor," she says.

"Why?"

"Because you've been nice to me," she explains angrily.

"I'm your friend; I'm supposed to be nice to you," I answer.

"You are not my friend," she snaps.

"Then what am I to you?" I ask. That brings her up short. I can see the emotions she keeps trying to keep pent up forcing their way to the surface. A tear spills down her cheek.

"Damn it!" she screams. She keeps trying to exert control and she keeps cracking. I move to hold her again. "Get away from me!" she shouts at me so I pull up short. She runs upstairs and I make my way to the TV room and sit down. I'm beyond the limit of my understanding of this situation.

An unknown amount of time later she's standing beside me before I realize it. We exchange glances then she sits down beside me.

"I don't want to be alone," she says softly. It must be a terrible thing for her to admit. I ease an arm around her and she allows it. "I keep waiting for you to make a move on me."

"You don't think much of me then," I tell her.

"If things were perfectly normal would you sleep with me?" she probes.

"Hell yes," I reply. Her look goes from concern to one of subtle confidence.

"Yet you are restraining yourself because you are my friend?" she wonders.

"Now you get it," I inform her. It takes her a while to digest that.

"I want to go upstairs," she tells me as she stands. I nod and go back to watching the TV. "I want you to come with me," she adds. Now I'm back to being afraid. I stand up with a ton more reluctance. She leads the way to her bedroom with me dragging along because I feel this is a terrible mistake. Inside the bedroom Gloria throws back the covers on the bed, strips out of her sports bra, and pulls down her workout pants and underwear in one strong pull.

As she slips into bed I see that she's staring at me and starting to get annoyed.

"You still have your clothes on," she states the obvious. I start stripping down as quickly as I can. When I finish she slips over so I can join her in the bed. I decide not provide her the need for further instructions.

I roll over and kiss her. Her return is tentative and a bit weak but I keep at it. I run a hand over her stomach and she tightens up. I'm still not sure this is the right thing; arguing with her about it seems counterproductive. We keep kissing as my hand comes up to her breast. I'm teasing and pulling on her nipple and getting no reaction.

I keep at it for a minute and am starting to get frustrated at the lack of physical response. I reach down to her stomach, pubic mound and finally her pussy. What I find is very disturbing; she's dry. I'm getting nowhere and getting there fast then I am reminded that it is not the game, it is the players.

Pushing her to the middle of the bed earns me an angry look. What follows adds uncertainty to the expression; I pull her on top of me. She sort of lays there for a few seconds.

"Push up," I suggest. She follows my idea and I pry one of her hands back and lower it between us until I put her hand on my penis. "Hold the shaft." She does so and I move my hand away.

"Move your hand up and down," I say.

"I don't get it," she admits.

"You are on top, you are in charge, and you get to decide what pace we move along at," I explain. She sighs, but begins giving me the appropriate hand job.

"Now run my penis head along your slit," I say next. Again she seems unimpressed but continues under my guidance. I start running my hands along her ass and back pulling her down to me in a steady rhythm.

"Ah," she moans as we both realize she's starting to get wet.

Gloria moves my shaft with more vigor until my head is coated in her juices. I'm about to give her another suggestion when she decides to take over. She inserts my head inside of her.

"Oh," she purrs. Her eyes close and she starts grinding her hips against me. I start countering her thrusts driving my cock deeper and deeper into her. She's not super-tight, but I can feel her around me and as she begins contracting her muscles the sensation is quite divine.

Gloria's hand can no longer fit so she pulls her arm back and returns to supporting herself with both arms. Since she isn't coming down, I prop myself on my elbows and go up. I capture a nipple in my mouth and begin to suckle. This time her nipple hardens immediately as I swirl it with my tongue and let it roll over my teeth. Her response is to move a hand over and feed more of the breast into my mouth.

We keep this up for several minutes until she pulls up, sitting on me and riding me as hard as she can. I'm matching her thrust with a counter-thrust. My hands rest on her hips, rocking her back as she comes down.

"Eddie ... Eddie ... I'm cumming ... Yes, yes ... oh yes!" she screams and my groin dampens. She shakes and pulses again and again before crashing down on top of me.

She is panting and I can feel her heart racing. I run my hands along her upper back and through her hair. Her head comes up and I kiss her gently.

"That was fun," I grin. She smiles at me then kisses me back.

"How did you figure out ..." she asks.

"You like control and being on top gives you control. You had to be comfortable to get what you wanted so I tried what I hoped would help. I'm glad it worked," I tell her.

"I want a shower," she groans with pleasure as she flexes her muscles on top of me. She scoots out of bed and takes a few steps toward the door.

"Aren't you coming?" she says. "That wasn't really a request in case you were wondering." With those kinds of options I get up and follow her. To her credit she gets the towels and tests the waters before we get in. Then she does something even more remarkable; she starts bathing me.

I really think that is a treat and it is, but then I get to stop her from bathing herself and take over the chore which is even better. She seems uncertain at first but soon gets into it enough so shift her body in response to my movements. When we get out she creates some distance between us when we dry off. I follow her as we go back to the bedroom where she flops down on the bed and I crawl in over her.

"What brought this on?" I inquire. She takes a deep breath before answering.

"As you pointed out, I've accomplished a lot in my forty-one years, but I've given up a lot too. I realized that not only did he rape me for that year, he's been raping me for the past fifteen years because I've never dealt with it."

"You reminded me that if I could succeed at everything else, I could deal with this too. I had to be strong enough now with you, or I might not get another chance. I was really afraid that I could see past all those years of pain, but you showed me the way by proving you know me almost as well as I know myself," she states. I really have no idea what to say.

"Let's get dressed," she suddenly suggests. We rapidly get dressed and go downstairs which only adds to my confusion to what is on her mind. She its down at the kitchen table, but when I don't join her she looks over to me questioningly.

"You have your job back," she announces.

"Thanks but why?" I respond.

"Let's say that I've come to appreciate your finer qualities; your ability to work in a team, to see your goals through, and to put the needs of others over your own," she explains. "Of course this will never happen again."

"What? Why?"

"I'm not going to have an office affair, especially with someone beneath me in the company," she says.

"In that case I quit," I answer her. Her eyes grow large then angry.

"I'm doing you a favor damn it," she snaps.

"If given the choice of working beneath you or spending time with you, I opt to be with you," I tell her.

"Who says that I want to be with you?" she growls. I have no real answer to that.

"Oh, I imagine you are right. If you feel that way I had better go," I admit. I walk over to her, grab her up and kiss her hard. She struggles briefly but ends up returning my kiss with passion. I let her go and head out to the door. Only when I'm at the entryway do I realize she's behind me.

"What was that for?" she asks.

"I wanted to. I don't image I need another reason, but if it makes you feel better it was because I knew kissing you would great," I answer.

"Take your job back," she tells me. I shake my head.

"No. I'm not sure I want to work for you anymore," I confess. She remains speechless. "I'm not sure I can forget this so it is probably better if we part ways. You are a wonderful woman; I'm not going to see past that, so I'm better off going somewhere else."

"Go then," she snaps. I'm out the door in seconds. This time I've remembered everything so there is no turning back.

I use a combination of transit systems to get home because I don't have enough for a cab. I'm so lost in my own thoughts when I get to my apartment complex that I almost miss the sound of a window going down. I look over to see Gloria looking at me intently from her car.

"Come here," she orders.

"No," I respond. "It is late, I'm tired, and I can't imagine you telling me anything I want to hear," I answer her.

"Damn you; I didn't come all the way down here only to be told to go to hell," she snarls. I lower my head and walk over to her.

"Kiss me," I insist.

"No," she snaps.

"I want you, I think you want me, so kiss me," I repeat. I lean into her and she doesn't pull away. I get my kiss and then some as I run my hands around her neck and through her hair.

"Get in the car," she asks softly.