You Can Always Say No Ch. 03

"Uh... okay."

Jason bounded out from around his desk – and paused just as he was about to take Alan's hand. He awkwardly held his hand in mid-air for a moment, not knowing what to do with it, then gently patted Alan's shoulder and beamed his brightest smile.

"I knew I could count on you," Jason enthused. "Say… Alan? Have you been working out or something?"

"Well, yes," Alan answered hesitantly. "Why?"

"I thought so," Jason responded. "You look... different."

Alan told me the chill had begun at the base of his spine and crept all the way up.

"Different... how?" he inquired warily.

"Different, like you are taking better care of yourself," Jason observed. "With the workload we have around here, it's easy to lose yourself in your job and go to seed. We're all guilty of that from time to time. You've obviously turned it around; you look really, really good. In fact, you look… younger, more revitalized than before. I just wanted to tell you, whatever it is you are doing, keep doing it. You have my full support."

***

I was waiting for Alan when he returned home; a rarity for a Tuesday night. He related the events of his meeting with Jason.

"He really said that?" I asked him. "'You have my full support?'"

"That's what he said," Alan affirmed.

I hugged him tightly.

"Honey, that's wonderful!" I gushed. "I told you, you had nothing to worry about. In fact, this is a golden opportunity for us. You will have a big new office, away from everyone who is familiar with the old you. You will be working directly with the one guy who can really open doors for you - and he already likes the way you look. Jason all but handed us a blank check to bring your feminine side out even more."

"More?" he repeated, his face losing color. "I don't know. I don't want to jeopardize…."

"We won't," I stated emphatically. "I haven't let you down yet and I'm not going to start now. Just tell me you haven't dreamed about being a little more feminine in your day-to-day life, being able to wear lingerie, and stockings, maybe even a little makeup and ear rings in those sexy new piercings of yours, and I'll stop. Say to me: 'Babe, I really think we should have my sculptured nails removed,' and we'll do it. Let me know you are tired of all this and want it over, and it will be!

I won't like it; Hell, I will hate it. I've gotten a taste of 'Angie' now and I can't conceive of being without her – but I will, if that is what you want. I will make it all go away. I will be your woman, you will be my man, and we will have a nice, safe, sane, normal loving relationship. That is how much I love you. Just… say… the… word."

I meant every word of it – but knew it was about as likely as a snowstorm in the Sahara. Who says a domme can't top from the bottom?

I was coming to enjoy watching the conflicting emotions race through my lover's eyes. Finally, Alan closed his eyes altogether and embraced me back. I really needed that reassurance at that moment.

"Damn you," he murmured in my ear. "You know I can't!"

"I know," I murmured back, planting little kisses all over his face. "I counted on that. Baby, if our relationship is going to work – in any incarnation, we have to trust one another. I love you and only you. That is the way it is. That is the way I want it. That is the way it will be – whatever happens."

"That sounds… ominous," Alan intoned cautiously.

"Not ominous, Baby," I corrected, "exciting, thrilling, electrifying. There is a whole world of possibilities opening up before us. All we have to do is have the courage to take what we want. Sweetie, our future's so bright, we gotta wear shades! Trust me, believe in me, and all of my fortunes I will lay at your feet."

The gloves came off – literally. I closed my eyes and reveled in my Angie's tender, sensual touch. The light rasp of her nails across my cheek gave me goosebumps.

"C'mon," I urged softly, "we have to get you dressed. You have a class tonight, remember? We'll pick this up where we left off when you come home. I guarantee I will be wet and ready for you."

***

It was actually a good thing Angie had to go to class – on several levels First, I wanted her to learn how to make herself beautiful for me. Second, I regarded Faye to be exactly the influence I wanted my Angie to have at this stage of her development, helping her become the lover I so desperately wanted. I loved my husband dearly, but 'Angie', the surreal vamp who had kept me in a near-perpetual state of ecstasy all weekend, was in a different league entirely…. Third, even though I had come straight home from the office – specifically to see my sweetie after he came home – I did have business to attend to; a lead I had to follow up on from earlier in the day. I did a cursory once-over of hair, makeup, lipstick and perfume, then grabbed my purse and scurried out the door to make my appointment on time.

The appointment ran late; such is the nature of new negotiations. I knew the mall closed at nine, so I had to hustle to get home in time to greet my sweetie. I was agitated all the way, cursing every red light and slowpoke driver in my way. I wasn't only worried I would be late; I was soaked with anticipation of what our reunion would bring. I was home by nine thirty-five, thanking my lucky stars I had arrived first. I made quick work of brushing my teeth, applying a fresh coat of lipstick, arranging my hair, spritzing on a little perfume, then changing into a lace teddy and high-heeled mules.

At nine fifty, I heard the car pull into the garage, followed shortly after by the staccato click-click-click of high heels scurrying across the driveway and up the front walk. There was a brief snick of key being inserted in lock and the snap of the bolt being thrown back. The door swung open and…

Time stopped. My heart skipped a beat. My breath caught in my throat. The rest of the world faded away, inconsequential. All that existed was me… and this vision before me. The heavily-made-up face was as it had been the previous weekend. There were new things, too; a lot of new things. The hair was teased; I mean, teased. The cloyingly-sweet scent of hairspray vied with her Obsession for preeminence in my nostrils. The juxtaposition of the two fragrances fit her and was oddly compelling. The four-inch gold hoop ear rings were where they should be, flanked by a smaller set of one-inch loops. Multiple neck chains cascaded down her upper chest. Gold bangles jangled musically from each wrist. A slender chain was double-wrapped around her ankle. I did a double-take to be sure. Yup, right ankle, announcing: 'Sorry Guys, I'm Taken.'

Damn straight, Skippy!

She was poured into a black and white python-print top with deeply-plunging neckline, a black lambskin microskirt, sheer black stay-up stockings and python print ankle-strap sandals with pencil-thin skyscraper stilettos. How did I know the stockings were stay-ups? The elasticized welts, hugging her firm, shapely thighs, were clearly visible beneath the obscenely-short hem of the skirt. I had never seen this outfit before. It wasn't one we had purchased in any of our shopping trips. She wouldn't have been able to wear this top, anyway; her bra and enhancers would have been visible a block away. That wasn't the case now; Girlfriend had boobs.

No, 'boobs' was too mild a descriptor. Girlfriend had tits, jugs, melons, udders, gazongas, bazoomers, boulders. My Angie was suddenly built like a brick shithouse! I felt like a fucking thirteen-year-old schoolboy, in the bathroom with his pervert friends, discussing the relative merits of the girls in class. There was more. She also had hips and ass like nobody's business. I didn't remember that tiny waist, either. I tentatively reached out with trembling hand to finger that smooth, shiny python top – and felt the reassuring hardness of vertical steel boning underneath. I knew without looking, her back would be a latticework of tightly-cinched laces. She had… a tiny ring… perhaps a quarter-inch in diameter… piercing her delicate right nostril. Oh… my…dear… God….

I was struck dumb. I couldn't even form words in my head, much less articulate them. I stood there, trembling like a leaf in a Force-Five gale. Somebody call Roto-Rooter; there's a burst pipe between my thighs….

Angie, bless her heart, seemed completely oblivious to my plight.

"Does this look all right?" she prattled on nervously, smoothing her talon-tipped fingers along the sides of her magnificent chest, down that tiny waist, over those thrusting hips and tush. "Mom lent it to me. She lent me the…upholstery, too. She said you would like it. Guess what? I did my own makeup! Does it look all right? Mom said I was a 'natural' for it. She did my hair this time, but promised she would show me a few styling tricks next time. Oh, you don't know about 'Mom' yet, do you? It's just that Faye is such a super lady and she told me about her little girl and I felt awful for her and she told me how much I looked like her, well, what she would have looked like now and I have always wanted a Mom and Faye has been so sweet to me since we met her and I figured you really wouldn't mind and do you like the nose ring, it's not too much, is it? If it is, I'll take it out, and Faye said you would like this look on me and if it's too much, I can change into something…"

"Shut up," I murmured, finding my voice at last. "ShutupshutupshutupshutupshutupSHUT UP!!!!!"

Adrenaline is a wonderful thing. I planted both outstretched hands against her upper chest, and launched Angie backward through the air, landing with a muffled whoosh on the overstuffed leather recliner behind her. I was on her lap in a heartbeat, scrabbling frantically under that all-but-nonexistent hem. A heavily-padded panty was responsible for those flaring hips and delicious backside. I clawed like a madwoman, trying to find my way inside.

"Whereisitwhereisitwhereisitwhere'sthefuckingopeningdon'tevenTRYtotellmeIhavetotakethewholedamnthingofftowaitwaitwaithereitisoh,yesyesyesyesyesThankYou,Jesus; she's… hard…."

"HUNNNNNGH!" came out more through my nose than my mouth. Such was the force with which I impaled myself on Angie's throbbing clit. So, you were expecting bright, witty, tasteful repartee? Better luck next Bitch! I was a good girl. Really. I lasted three whole strokes this time – before going off like a five-alarm in a fireworks factory. I dimly remember thinking to myself: Who is that rude bitch screaming her head off? Dammit, there goes the neighborhood! Doesn't anyone have consideration for others anymore? Hey, Bimbo; people trying to fuck here! Oh, wait; it's me. Heh, heh, heh – my bad!

I had no idea where I was, the time, day of the week, or date. I was floating, drifting, looking down. I saw two women; one, the crotch piece of her teddy flapping in the air, straddling a truly scandalous-looking slut, humping, humping, humping. The woman on top had her head thrown back and eyes closed. Her hands rested comfortably on the twin peaks of the slut's chest. She swayed gently back and forth, screaming through each orgasm, always humping, humping, humping. Through it all, the slut beneath her showed no sign of slowing down, much less stopping. She just kept humping, humping, humping…. Then the slut pulled out, flipped the teddy-clad woman on her back and attacked her pussy with an eager tongue, lapping, lapping, lapping. The teddy-clad woman grasped the slut's head, holding it tightly, thrashing spasmodically and screaming continuously. Then my brain… just…shut…down….

I awoke to the first rays of dawn filtering through the bedroom windows and the sounds of the shower running in the Bath. I had no recollection of walking from the living room to the bedroom and no idea of how I got here. There was no trace of 'Angie'. Was 'she' in the shower?

I attempted to move – and stopped short, groaning. Aside from being weak as a kitten, I felt like I had been hit by a truck south of my waistline. I knew I would have to pee soon, but would put it off as long as possible; this was going to be bad.

For all that, I was dry down there. For all the rutting we had done – at least, I think we had done – I would have expected long trails of cum running down the insides of my thighs and a puddle on the sheets under my pussy. There was none of that; perhaps just a hint of crustiness, that's all. Had my lover… washed me, then put me to bed?

The shower stopped. Shortly after, a naked Alan exited the bathroom, blotting his damp hair with a towel. The only hints of 'Angie' were his gorgeous fingernails and toenails. I watched my husband dress for work, longing for it to be my beautiful, sexy Angie. Such were the demands of Real Life. Perhaps I could do something about that….

"Hey," I called out weakly.

He turned to me and smiled.

"Hey," he called back.

He walked to my side, lifted my head and kissed me tenderly on the lips.

"Are we all right?" he asked with genuine concern.

I just stared at him as though he had lost his mind.

"All right?" I echoed.

With every ounce of strength I had remaining, I wrapped my arms around his neck and pulled myself up to him, pressing my body against his and crushing his lips with my own. Once my reserves were spent, I collapsed onto the bed once more.

"No, we are not 'all right'," I growled. "We will never be 'all right' again. You raised the bar last night and it can never go back to where it was before. Anything less would simply be… less. I hope you are comfortable with that; you will have to be. As it is, I will have to call in sick today, although I am contemplating skipping the preliminaries and calling in dead. What did you fuck me with; a telephone pole?"

"Viagra," he admitted, shrugging his shoulders. "Mom gave it to me. She said to tell you, she 'thought you might enjoy it, until you decided otherwise'. Does that make any sense to you?"

"Yes, Baby," I responded, a weak smile on my lips. "It does. Thank you for giving me the message. Later, if I'm feeling up to it, I'll call… 'Mom' and thank her myself."

I watched him dreamily as he prepared for his work day, marveling at how he could already manage buttons, hooks, zippers, even tie his tie with those beautiful nails. Maybe 'Mom' had been right; he just might be a 'natural'. I sincerely hoped so.

He slipped on his suit coat, then gloves, and was about ready to walk out the door when my curiosity got the best of me.

"Baby," I called out. "Did you… cum… at all?

The blush on his cheeks and dreamy, unfocused smile told me everything I wanted to know. I pulled the covers up to my chin and watched my beloved Alan step through the door, ready to tackle the workday head-on. An idle vision popped into my head; that of Angie strutting haughtily out the door, heels clicking, inflated breasts jiggling sweetly, hips rolling as though on rails, ready to take on that same world.

Perhaps, I thought, perhaps….