Risk

"That's all I have left."

"You can make them come true."

"I can't."

"You mean you really don't expect to ever bicycle across the country? What was that all about anyway? Was it just a lie? This is going to sound so cliché but all doors are open for you. Pick one. There's a prize behind everyone, but please don't take the one that leads away from me. Please don't. I meant what I said. I really do love you."

"Damn you. You just don't get it. You're insufferably stubborn."

"See, something else we have in common," I almost laughed.

She cried a little bit and she allowed me to help dry her tears. "You mean to tell me that with all that I have done, you're willing to put that all behind and you are still in love with me?"

"Damned right I am." For the first time I kissed her.

"Will you fuck me?" she asked.

"No, I won't." Part of me wanted to but I knew better. "Nor will have sex with you nor will I make love to you either."

"That's not what this wants," she said finding my hard cock in my pants.

"That's not me. It is only a part of me and what I really want to do is make love WITH you and the gentleman in me doesn't think you're ready for it just yet and I think you know it too."

"Damn it, you're right you know." A smile came to her face. "Who would think it? I've had sex more in one month than you've had in your entire life time and yet you seem to know more about it than I do."

"Not about the quantity. It's about the quality."

"I confused the two."

"I never have. Besides, Susan may have freaked about the rubber but she was a good teacher. She taught me how to do some things you might enjoy."

The two cats took that moment to jump up on the couch and into our laps, or rather her lap. Both of them ignored me and we both laughed about it as we sat there and just hugged.

She looked at me and said, "if I said to you no rubber, ever, would you still love me? Could you love me?"

"Well, I know some people have such a strong fetish that they can't function at all, and I think I managed to do pretty good with Susan so I know that's not the issue. I do think you are very attractive, so yes, I could love you and I hope make you very happy."

"But you'd like me in rubber, wouldn't you?"

"Of course. Don't know why really, but it is a part of me, a part of who I am. Some men look at a cute woman and imagine them naked, or in a bikini or wearing some silly, stupid frilly bit of nothing. I imagine them in rubber or leather."

"So, you think I'm attractive but seeing me dressed up like that would make me even more attractive?"

"Something like that, yes. Don't know what it is about rubber and leather really. Haven't spent all that much time trying to figure it out either although I suppose I should have after Susan freaked out." I shrugged. "Who knows? Maybe that was just her excuse to leave anyway."

"You would think that with all I've seen and done, that I would be OK with it, but I'm just not sure about it. I'm just not sure."

"Maybe it's that you're just not sure about you and I." I paused again. "I really love you and don't want you to do anything you don't feel comfortable with. Don't ever do anything with me just to please me or be afraid that I won't love you because you don't do something. I know we all make compromises all the time and it's part of life, part of a relationship, but we all have boundaries that can't be crossed without selling our hearts and I never want you to sell yours just for me, never."

"Will you take me home?"

"Of course I will, if that's what you really want."

"Yes, I think so," she pleaded. "I need time to think."

"Then I will."

"No arguments?"

"I love you," I replied. "I only want you to be happy and if that will make you happy, then I will take you home."

She started crying again and I didn't have a clue about why. "I just can't believe you still want me."

"I do," I replied honestly.

She stood up as if to leave. "I'm sorry but please take me home."

"Of course," and I did just that. It was a brief silent drive back down Sheridan road through Kennilworth and Evanston and down into Rogers Park in Chicago. I don't think she said but five words the entire time and I was at a complete loss myself.

"I love you" was all I could say, as she got out of the car as I stopped in front of her run down apartment building.

I watched her walk away for a moment, convinced I would never see her again.

Part Four

I admit it, I cried when I got home. I'm afraid I just did not understand her at all. She just made no sense to me or perhaps she did. I just did not know.

Maggie, knowing I did not care for football and being a bit curious about Carol, called me during the Bears game the following day to see what had happened with Carol.

"She's gone," said softly, "just like Susan."

"Oh no, oh no."

"Don't know what to do at all," I almost cried.

"Tell me exactly what happened, and I mean it this time. I want to know everything. Maybe I can help."

This time I did tell her everything, including about my rubber fetish and what happened with Susan when she found out.

"Well, the first thing you need to do is get on the phone and call her up and tell her that you love her."

"She won't answer."

"Leave a message, leave one a day until she gets it. Better yet, I'll call her. Maybe that will help."

"Why?" I asked.

"You just don't get it do you, you never did?"

Not knowing what she was talking about, I said nothing.

"Want to know one reason why I married your brother and not one of the others I dated? It's because when I met you and your sister and your mother, I saw how you treated each other and really, really cared for each other and respected each other, even when you disagreed. That's how you treat me too. I am one of the luckiest women in the world. Not only do I have a wonderful husband and three great kids, but I also have a great sister in law and a great brother in law and a big huge wonderful family that I'm part of. There's not one of you that I don't care about, including you. She's an idiot if she can't see that. So, you've got a bit of a quirk. That's nothing that you can't work out between the two of you. Personally, that isn't for me but to each his own. There are far worse things than that. Bet you'd never hit her or abuse her, would you or cheat on her."

"Never," I admitted.

"So, she could do far worse than you and it seems she has in the past."

"Sure sounds that way," I agreed.

"Then tell her you love her and I'll also leave a message for her and maybe between the two of us, we can see what we can do."

We talked a while longer, then after I hung up, I left a simple message for Carol. "I love you. Please call any time. There is nothing we can't work out."

Up in my bedroom that night, I wondered if it was really true. Did I really love her or had I fallen for what now seemed to be a false promise?

Let's face it, I had a semi-serious rubber fetish. I've read stories about people who had closets full of the stuff and even though I could afford all that and more, I realized I really didn't have that much, just two catsuits, some gloves, briefs and a few other odds and ends. I did wear them once and a while but it was hardly a daily or even weekly thing. Also, Susan and I had had sex (made love? fucked?) more than a few times without it and both seemed to enjoy it. It clearly wasn't as if I couldn't function without it. Yet, there were times when I did put on the catsuit when I was alone and enjoy being by myself. I was tempted to that Sunday night but decided against it, not really knowing why either.

I did surf the Internet and did visit some rubber and fetish sites but the Internet did not hold my interest that evening. In fact, I spent more time on the few recumbent bicycle sites than the rubber ones. I even ended up reading a blog by a man who was bicycling across the country on one.

Instead, I wondered about myself. What did I want in all of this? Was I willing to give up my fetish fantasy for Carol? Did I even have a choice in matter? If she didn't come back, then the issue would be moot anyway and once again, I would not have to deal with it.

Then too, there was the issue of Carol's past. Could I accept the fact that she had slept with a lot of men? Could I live and love and forgive someone with that kind of a past? Could I deal with someone who was in AA?

I thought about all that and a lot more that evening and into the early morning hours as I tossed and turned in bed. I had no answers that morning either. I was far too restless to trade, too distracted, and decided that rather than risk money in the markets, I kept my funds parked in safe havens. At around nine thirty, I poked my head outside the door and saw that it was a clear but cool and sunny morning, a nice day for a bike ride. I did just that.

I rode for several hours that Monday morning along my local bike trail, taking it north all the way up to North Chicago. In fact, I had not been that far north on the trail since I started riding. My odd bike and I were mostly alone, the kids gone back to school and only a few women and an occasional man were out. Perhaps most of the casual riders had put their bikes away for the fall or were reluctant to head out in the chilly air, but I really enjoyed it. My head and my heart seemed much clearer when I came back. I would do what I could to keep her, if only she would return.

I followed up each day that week with a message, repeating what I had said the first time, only now I felt as if I really did mean it. She did not call back until Friday. Dinner was over, the cats were fed, and I was watching the History Channel about something when the phone rang. I almost jumped out of my skin.

"Sorry I didn't call sooner," she said.

"That's quite OK," I smiled, happy just to hear her voice.

"I finally talked to Maggie late last night and explained what happened. I'm really sorry I broke down on you like that, really very sorry. This has been a huge weight I've been carrying with me, just huge. You have no idea. I've had such a poor self-image of myself and I was so shocked that anyone could forgive what I had done, anyone at all. I thoroughly expected you to be furious with me and want to have nothing to do with me all. I just could not believe it, could not deal with it at all. Why would anyone want to have anything to do with me except for sex?"

There was a pause. "It's because I love you," I replied.

I heard her cry. "I'm sorry. You know, I only told one other guy about my past. Met him at work a couple of years ago. I told him and you know what he did? He called me a slut and a whore and almost tried to rape me. It was so disgusting and to think I had loved him. I just could not believe it. That's why you shocked me so much. I had expected you to be the same as all the other men I've met. Guess I haven't met as many men as I thought I had because I've never met anyone quite like you."

Now it was my turn to almost cry.

"So, what do you want to do now?" I asked.

"Well, Maggie has invited us to their place for a cookout on Sunday, that is if you don't mind?"

I had been forewarned me about the invitation, although it was pretty well understood that I really didn't need one anyway. There was almost always a cookout on Sunday after an afternoon of watching football games on the bigscreen television in his game room. Family was always welcome and it half sounded like Carol might become family. I liked the idea myself.

"Of course I don't mind," I naturally replied. We talked a bit more and made our plans. One thing we did not talk about was my fetish and I wondered if we were both avoiding it or if in fact, there was nothing to talk about. I just wasn't sure.

It was almost cold that Sunday as I drove back into Chicago in the Mini Cooper to pick her up. I'm not sure if it was just wishful thinking on my part but she seemed unusually attractive that day, though she was very casually dressed in slacks and blouse. There was a black leather jacket and sensible shoes but nothing out of the ordinary, though I hardly knew what was ordinary for her anyway.

Maggie was delighted to see us and so was my brother. They could not have made us feel more comfortable and welcome if they had wanted to and the great thing is, I don't think either of them were actually trying or putting on an act either. It was just they way they were, the way all my family ever was and it seemed so very right that afternoon. Because of Carol, there was no beer in the fridge and neither made any move to explain it either. Everyone just knew why and accepted it. The talk was light and friendly between all of us and it was just a delightful afternoon and evening.

It was on the way back that the other subject came up. She dealt with it directly. "We haven't talked about your fetish yet have we?"

"No, we haven't," I replied, "and won't unless you really want to."

"Need to is more like it, I guess. You know, I've been around so much and done so much and yet there's an awful lot about men that I just don't get. I mean, you say you think I'm attractive yet you want me to actually wear something? I'm not sure it makes any sense to me. Does it mean you're lying when you say I'm attractive or what?"

"Not an easy answer, really, not easy at all. Men in general are much more visual when it comes to sex and erotica than women. That's why pornography works. Men see something or someone they think is sexy and they have a reaction, often very immediate," I responded trying to be polite and clinical about it. "Different men respond to different things. Some men have a smoking fetish. Some are into the whips and chains. Some men think that belly dancing is erotic, which I for one, cannot understand at all. Then you have the men who like big breasts or fat women or silk stockings. There are all types. Then there are the rubber fetishists like me. Don't know why really, never did, but there I am. I see a woman in a wetsuit or a leather catsuit and I think she's just the sexiest woman around. Turns my head every time. I can't tell you how many stupid movies and shows I've watched just for the sight of a woman wearing leather or rubber."

I paused. "I really and truly do think you are attractive. I'm not sure how to prove it either, but yes, you would be even more attractive dressed up in leather or rubber, but I don't want you to if you don't want to."

"But yet, if I said I would never wear it and we got married, that would still be in the back of your mind, wouldn't it?"

"I can't say and I can't promise. I just don't know. It's been a part of me for a while now and it is something I've enjoyed even though it's meant the end of one relationship and perhaps this one."

She was silent for a moment as I drove along in the chilly evening and I wondered what she was thinking.

"No matter what," I said after a couple of minutes of silence, "I love you and never want you to do anything you don't feel comfortable with."

"I know," she smiled and then kissed me at a stoplight. "This is all just so unexpected and shocking. My world has been turned upside down and not entirely for the worse I might add. I've had this image of myself as this ugly little alcoholic slut and I'm trying to deal with the fact that you just refuse to see me that way. It isn't easy, and then there's the rubber aspect to this whole situation." She just sighed. Then she laughed. "I did ask you to be patient with me, didn't I? Bet you didn't think you have to go through all of this?"

"Knowing what I know now, I'd still do it again."

"Even if I walk away?"

"Even if you walk away," I replied, "but I don't think you will, at least I sure as hell hope you don't."

"I don't think I will either, but it may not be easy."

"Good," I smiled, relieved. "I was worried there for a moment."

"So was I. Tell you what. Why don't we plan on spending next weekend together, the entire weekend? You can pick me up after work. No promises about anything else, but maybe we can just hang out and talk and really see if we can make this work."

I loved the idea myself and said so and another idea came to mind as I parked in front of her apartment and we kissed. It was a little more than just a friendly kiss too I might add, more like a promise of things to come. It seemed my risk really might pay off.

Part Five

During the week, I made my plans. There was a shop I visited and explained what I wanted. He was more than happy to help once he saw my credit card.

Carol and I talked too, several times in fact. She would cook dinner for us Friday at my place but she had me buy the groceries. I cleaned the house too, not that I was terribly messy but I did want to make a good impression on her.

Shortly after five, I left my house and made my way to Rogers Park and found a place to park not too far from her apartment, arriving at the appointed hour.

"She's not quite ready yet," explained her roommate whom I had not yet met. She was another pleasant enough young woman and I might have been attracted to her if it weren't for the cigarette she was smoking.

"Take good care of her, will you," she said to me as Carol emerged with a suitcase from her bedroom. "She's really been through a lot and deserves someone decent."

"I will," I promised.

I zipped through the streets again, or rather, tried to with all the traffic. It is a part of life in the city and one reason I was glad I didn't have to deal with the commute now that I worked from home.

"Let me change into something else," she said once we were inside.

"You look quite nice to me," I said. Indeed, she was wearing a conservative business suit. "But whatever you wish is fine with me."

"Oh, I have something better in mind," she said with a wink, then began hauling the suitcase up the stairs. "Down in a couple of minutes."

I took a deep breath and then found my surprise for her and set it on the dinning room table, on the plate I had set for her. I paused. I could change my mind, take it all back if I wanted. No, it just felt right. As a trader, I study things carefully and once I make a decision, I stick with it. I opened up the small box and set it there, afraid of what she might say. I would risk it all anyway.

I turned and went into the kitchen and puttered, waiting for her. What was taking her so long anyway? I paced and petted the cats. I had my back to the stairway, did not even hear her come down. "Oh my God," I heard her almost cry. "It's beautiful."

"It's what you think it is," I said turning around and stepping into the dinning room.

I stopped, frozen in place, unable to speak or move. She stood there before me, this woman I had just given an engagement ring to, and she was wearing the most erotic, black latex catsuit I had ever seen. "Oh my God," I echoed. "You are so beautiful." I just could not believe it. I think I forgot to breathe for a moment. I was so stunned, even my cock failed to react.

She laughed a little and the tension in the room let up. "Amazing, isn't it?"

"You certainly are," I agreed moving closer, looking at this wonderful woman of my dreams, who now stood before me.

"And so are you," she beamed.

I wanted to touch her and do all kinds of things and she certainly sensed that.

"Dinner first," she said taking charge.

"What?"

"My rules," she explained. "Oh, and if I have to wear this suit then you have to wear one too."

"What? Ok," I agreed.

"Then change. I'll do the cooking."

I raced up the stairs and found one of my suits, almost tore it putting it on and managed to get down stairs as quickly as I could. This time, my cock was hard and it made a nice bulge in my suit.

"There you are," she smiled and kissed me. "That's all you get for now."