Balancing Act

*Delayed sex for my typical stories. Please remember the category you're in.

*More comments/feedback, please. Have the fortitude to not be anonymous.

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At my last company, I was the fixer. I was brought in to right the ship and save myriad accounts from leaving. Along the way, I built a team stealing other people from other places in the company. Building a 'SWAT' team of my own, if you will. We'd find out what the problem is and distribute and deploy the team. One of these people was Rachel.

Rachel was hired and they didn't know what to do with her. Still fairly young, overqualified for any current opening, they brought her in and overpaid her to keep her happy. I had her do a few special projects and she wanted in on what we were doing. She saw the same cultural weakness in the company and understood the impact to clients and their perceptions.

We largely communicated via Slack, an instant messaging tool, and an occasional conference call with the team when she was needed. But we hit it off, both the same age with the same basic common-sense principals but with very different personalities, strengths and weaknesses - but we kind of had a groove, a rhythm. She was dudette and I was the mountainman, solving problems, retaining clients. Coordinating, documenting, making plans - feeling like we were saving the world by breathing life into a company who had cut its own legs off.

It so happened that I went to Philadelphia to meet with a client who had expressed their desire to leave. Rachel was based there, so we decided to meet and had a drink the day before the meeting; it was my first time meeting her in person. 5'4", lithe and full of youthful exuberance and energy, her full, thick hair was long and mid-back. Her blue eyes were explosive and vibrant, they smiled joyfully and she had a natural glow about her, a radiant aura. We talked business, career goals and what we expected out of ourselves. She joked about her past boyfriends and how she really just wanted to drink beer and eat pizza.

Later we walked around the city for a couple of hours talking, working out the booze and coordinating for the next day. I was married at the time and while there was something scratching at the back of my brain, knowing and feeling the connection, I knew I shouldn't reach out in anything other than a gentlemanly handshake.

The meeting was good, we locked it down.

This was our pattern, working 80 hour weeks, traveling all over the country. Countless phone calls, to do the right thing. I didn't see her often but when I did there was, for me, an undercurrent of electricity. The way she'd move her hair from one side to the other. The occasional wink she'd give me. We ended up speaking more and more on the phone. She'd regale her tales of all the bad boyfriends she had. All amusing, she could have been a stand-up comic if she wanted - which made her all the sexier to me. She was, to me, an exotic wildflower with a potent, intoxicating bloom and fragrance. A flower I never knew was real until I saw it.

I was burning out on everything. My health, my work and my marriage. The short of it being, we had become different people and so after first receiving an exit package and then an inheritance, we civilly disjointed - my marriage concluding at a natural ending point... but I didn't tell Rachel and it wasn't very clear on social media which I wasn't on often anyway. Surely the rumor would spread through the industry that I was available, people liked to gossip.

Now at a different company, my contact with Rachel became less frequent, maybe an email a month and a phone call or two a year. Until one day, years after my departure, I got an urgent email asking for a call for advice.

I picked up and called.

"Rach, dudette, are you okay? What's going on?"

"Bruce, man, I don't even know where to begin."

"I don't want to jump to conclusions but did someone hurt you?"

Silence. Dead, hard silence. 5. 10. 15. 30 seconds. I could hear her breathing.

"I don't want to push, Rach," I continued, "I don't need the details. But if you need to talk to someone, I'm here. I'm here to listen. I'm not here to judge. If someone -"

She cut me off, "Five of them." Blunt, cold. I shivered. She continued, "Just touching, just comments. Old men. It made my skin crawl, Bruce."

My stomach turned, I almost lurched.

Hoarsely, like a five-pack a day smoker, I said "Was... this at... work?" I could feel myself getting angry, building like a metronome. The phone pressed to my left ear, my right arm gripping a stress ball.

More silence. Another 20 seconds of stagnant, heavy air on the other end of the phone.

"You have to report this to their HR, you have to go see a lawyer. This is unacceptable."

"I don't want to get anyone in trouble," she said.

"No, fuck that. They should all know better. If it was at work, they would have all had to take an annual HR harassment seminar. They should know better."

We talked, several times, sometimes for an hour or two. Just staying the course, discussing the intense subject for hours. She finally agreed to meet a lawyer.

I check in with her for weeks. Making sure she knew is wasn't her fault. She was not herself, she felt guilty, remorseful. I told her she couldn't that she needed to fight the fight with her lawyer.

She won. She moved across country and was going to start over.

All the while, I couldn't help but direct my private thoughts on her. I was jaded, I felt horrible but simultaneously, I had already been lusting to feel her soft skin, to see her smile and to, well, other things. Though I was single, healing, I still couldn't help myself but to imagine myself with her.

Fate intervened - it had been a couple of months of just touching base, making sure she was okay. Encouraging her to explore the dreams she had always put off. After a long layover, I was boarding a plane in Chicago to LA and had upgraded myself to first class. Even after a long layover, I was one of the last to board as I had occupied myself at a bar and was in my 'happy place' - not too drunk.

As I waited for everyone to take their seats in front of me, I saw the only open seat in first class and I knew it was mine. A big array of dark hair was in the window seat, looking out the window.

Jokingly, "Miss, I'm sorry, but you lucked out and now you're stuck with me."

She turned and her eyes looked up, meeting mine, and a subtle smile turned to realization as both of our jaws quickly dropped and turned into big smiles. She tried to get up, but her seat belt was on. I quickly ducked down, sticking my laptop case and daypack under the seat and giving her the only plausible half-hug one could.

"How in the fuck are you, Rach? What are you doing here?" I said with pure exuberance.

"Well, I just met with my brother, and we reviewed my finances after everything settled." Hinting at, but not directly referring to her legal battles, now settled. She continued, "I can start a dog farm!" her beautiful laugh, "Or, more realistically, the consulting firm I've wanted to do for a while now, if I can find the right partner - you know someone who can balance me out." She flicked her hair and smiled with her electric eyes.

"That's awesome, Rach. I'm so proud of you." I beamed and then relaxed into the seat, and we were interrupted by the stewardess, offering us celebratory drinks as she could tell we were long-lost friends.

I raised my eyebrows at Rachel, "What service!" Discussion was light, catching up, nothing serious, not a word of business talk, none of the legal stuff. Just fun. She had just gone to Europe on a little refresher vacation and was discussing the sights and sounds, the food, the culture of the past two weeks before meeting up with her brother.

"I wish I had known he was a CFP, I would have had him look at everything before my divorce." I said it with my expressive eyes, forgetting I had never told her explicitly what I had gone through.

"I heard, why didn't you ever tell me?"

"You know me well enough, I don't like to broadcast my failures."

She patted my hand, "It's okay, B, it's okay. A lot of marriages fail - may I ask why yours did?"

I gulped, loosened my tie and unbutton the collar. Took a swig of my drink, now getting past my 'happy place' with booze and moving forward a step.

"I think at the end of the day, we were two different people. We didn't loathe each other but we became ambivalent towards one another, two passing ships in the night. Different routes and, well, there were other things, too..." I trailed off, thinking about my growing kinkiness and my then-wives sexual conservativeness.

"Oh?" Rachel placed her chin on her hand, her elbow on the small armrest, slightly leaning over into my chair. Her smile was devilish, maybe all-knowing and full of risk. We'd never really discussed sex, but, it felt unavoidable. "You're blushing, Bruce!" She was teasing me, now.

"Well," I coughed, giving my brain an extra second or two, "sometimes, Rachel," putting on my more serious tone to save myself embarrassment (in my quickening, drunkard mind), "sometimes, we just didn't have passion for each other, things were stale and I learned more and more about myself with all of my time alone and," I paused, "exploration..." she was listening intently now, knowing I was being very serious. "Look, I don't want to make you feel uncomfortable and I don't want to be inappropriate but in short, we weren't compatible in bed any longer. My wife wanted someone more in-line with what and who I was in my early 20s. Not someone who decided they wanted to try a lot of different things."

She touched my hand again, turning it over, gently feeling the rough callouses on my right hand. I didn't look immediately at her but I could feel her eyes boring into me. It shouldn't have been that difficult for me to say the words I had, but somehow I felt like less of a stoic man I was supposed to be.

From the intercom: Attention, we're expected to land in 15 minutes, please fasten your seatbelts.

"Fasten my seatbelt, huh? I suppose I should have told you that before I just gushed like that, Rach."

She squeezed my hand, leaned in, her fun and sweat demeanor changing a little bit. The sparkle in her eye increasing, her words a bit more sharp, as she looked me deep in the eye, "You need a guide, B."

I looked at her quizzically, "A guide?"

She leaned in further, into my ear, "A sexual guide... someone to teach you things... to show you pleasure in new ways... to make you give pleasure in new, exciting ways..." she leaned back and looked at my blushing face, my eyes to her almost pleading and eager. She saw something, perhaps the something she wanted.

We landed, a smooth flight. We de-planed, gathered our things and walked into the zoo of LAX.

"Bruce, I've been thinking the last bit."

"Yes?"

"You're open to anything new - if you had a guide? Would you agree with that?"

"Yes," I said - "Perhaps a mentor or consultant," I laughed, she didn't. I smiled my jokey smile and coughed, raised an eyebrow, "Do you, do you know someone?"

She kissed my cheek, and hugged me, "It's getting late - when you're done with your meeting tomorrow, you'll go back to your hotel and leave a key for me. Do you understand, B?"

I nodded an affirmative. She waved goodbye with a devilish smile on her face. I wondered what I had gotten myself into. I watched her walk away in her green dress, stepping with authority. Her ass swaying from one side to the next, we no detectable panty line, she turned back to see me and smiled when she saw me. She knew I was hooked.

I was waiting for my luggage for my extended stay and decided to text her.

[Bruce/Me: I'm sorry I didn't mean to make you feel uncomfortable.]

[Rach: lol emoji, smile emoji. You didn't. You don't know what you're in store for.]

[Bruce/Me: blush emoji.]

When I finally got to the hotel, I furiously stroked my completely average member quickly to orgasm.

The next day was hell, I was off my game but my myriad meetings were fine. I was just distracted, thinking and anticipating what would happen with Rachel. Thinking of that fierce attitude, the sly, devilish smile, and that unbreakable ass.

I hadn't heard from her all day, but took an Uber back to the hotel. Relaxing, loosening my tie, my pants feeling more confined than normal.

I took the elevator up to the room. Pressed my plastic card to the door, the automated lock clicking and I turned the handle. It was pitch black. I could have sworn I had left the shades open.

"In here." It was her voice, musky and demanding.

I dropped my things and beckoned over to the couch.

"How open exactly are you?" She said flatly. "What won't you do?"

"I... uh... don't want to bleed or do anything with toilets or... anything illegal..." I nervously trailed off.

"What's interesting to me, Bruce, is here you are - someone that's always been Mr. Right - very clean cut, very goody-goody. And you just left yourself open for a lot of naughty." She laughed.

"There's a secret that I have. Well, two, actually." She stands up and walked over to me. I'm not quite sure what she's wearing but she reached up and kissed my lips. It was a firm but gentle kiss, perfectly wet and smooth - her tongue briskly poking into my mouth and pinning my tongue.

"That I liked. I can tell you're going to take direction well. But here's secret number one - I've admired and have had a crush on you for years now... and when I heard about your divorce, I felt for you, I knew you were in pain but... the heart wants what the heart wants."

"Rach-" she cut me off.

"No, no. I'm speaking, now. I'm in charge. Do you understand?"

I nod in agreement.

"I know you've wanted me, too. You've been so sweet and so good, that I believe, deeply, that I can trust you with my next secret."

She walks around me, draping her hand over my shoulders, a small grunt in appraisal; noting my devout work in the gym since the divorce. Her scent is intoxicating. To a degree familiar, but still flowery.

"Strip."

I obliged, quickly and without hesitation; I wasn't ashamed of my manhood, but knew it wasn't the big knob the ladies gagged on in the clips. I also knew I didn't want to disappoint her even if it showed how over-eager I was to please her.

"On your knees."

I slowly got on my knees, raising up a curious brow at her. The lights dimmed up but she was out of view, behind me. Slowly walking around me, stalking her prey.

"My second secret, I think will be a complete surprise to you. But it is part of who I am and I think you already love me deep down, don't you?"

I nod.

She kneels behind me. Her hands tracing up my sides and to my nipples, giving them a little tug - nothing grotesque or painful. Her lips pressed to my ear, nibbling at it lightly, breathing on my neck and raising goosebumps. Her right hand making its way down my back to my right butt-cheek.

"Can I play with this?"

I nod.

"Mmm, you're such a good boy, B; you want me to me naughty with you, don't you?"

I nod.

"I'm amazed how quickly you learn but this time, I want you to speak. Do you want me to play with your little asshole?"

"If you wish, Rachel, I believe I'd...' cough, "enjoy it."

"What if it was something bigger than a finger?" She said it while spreading my cheeks and teasing the outside of my anus with her finger.

"Yes, that would be okay...?"

"Brucey, I think you've thought about this before... played with your ass before... tell me..." she hissed into my ear, "what have you put in this tight little hole?" She pressed harder and the tip went in to the first knuckle.

Breathing hard, I adjusted and spread my knees on the floor, still kneeling, further apart for better balance and access.

"My ex-wife... she caught me once... with her 8" dildo... it was maybe... 2/3rds in me... it was thicker than me."

"So, your wife wanted a bigger dick and you did, too?" She grabbed my hot, hard 6" and stroked it several times. She continued, "For the record, this is nice, and I'll enjoy it in time. But... my last question for you to answer aloud, B, if I asked you to please a cock for me, would you?"

"Yes, Rach... if it would please you, it would please me."

She sucked my ear and passionately kissed my neck like a vampire, removed the finger from my ass. She walked in front of me, I could see her full now with the light. She was fully clothed... in jeans and a normal, casual top. I was naked, exposed. She walked a few paces over to the couch, sat back and spread her thighs open.

"Crawl to me. Slowly."

I did, my butt stuck out, my cock bouncing from knee to knee as I crawled over on my knuckles and knees. I got close enough where my head was right between her knees and I sad back on mine, my ass resting on the heels of my feet. I looked up at her, waiting for instruction. She was beautiful, her hair up in a bun, here eyes staring at me, evaluating, but eager. The little smirk on her face.

"Follow my hand. Take notes. Document." She said it with a wry smile.

She traced it down her neck, across her chest from one nipple to the next, pinching each slowly. Her eyes closing. She was putting on a little show. Then she traced her hand down her abdomen and down her thigh to her knee. Then back up, palming her thigh. It took me a moment to put it all together. She rubbed her palm up and down the interior of her thigh and I noticed there was a bulge there. She was moaning lightly. I looked up at her, curiously.

"Do you want to see it, Brucey?"

I, unknowingly, licked my lips and nodded at the same time. She stood up, towering over me. She removed her shirt, unclasped her bra and her firm breasts came into view - her nipples were half-dollar sized and her cleavage was freckled and cute. Her torso, tight and her hips bulged out to the side. I leaned back on my arms as she unbuckled her jeans for space... she slowly unzipped, turned and bent over in front of me. Her beautiful butt in my face, first covered in jeans and then as she removed those, in a little tight boycut underwear, silky and highlighting her wonderful curvature. She stood back up, quickly, smiling, her head cocked over her shoulder looking down at me.

"You'll spend ample time there, B. I can tell you're going to love worshiping my ass. Kneading it, massaging it, kissing it, tonguing the tight hole..." she teasingly moaned and I did for real.

"Are you ready?"

At this point I knew enough to know what was coming. I had read enough to know this was a big moment for her.

She turned, her panties revealed a significant bulge - her balls looked so big and the outline of her cock looked thick.

"Kiss it."

I leaned up, kissing her upper thigh. She was looking down on me, I could feel her boring her eyes into my next actions and I wanted to please her. I wanted her to know I accepted her fully. I leaned in and kissed her panty-covered meatstick. Its heat felt like the only source of warmth in the room. I kissed it once, twice, three times before I instinctively smothered my face into her equally hot ballsack. Kissing and mewing at her testies and cock.

"Fuck," she hissed.

She didn't stop me, she had lost a little control in the moment reveling in the pleasure as my horniness and eager, aggressive submissiveness took over and started to tongue her rod through the panties. My hands came up her calves and thighs and I pushed the tip of her pantied cock into my mouth. Just the head, and I worked my tongue around it. My eyes looking up to meet hers. She was beaming. Regaining her composure:

"Enough, take these panties off and close your eyes."

I obeyed. Closing my eyes, gripping the panties delicately by her hips and slowly pulling them down. Her sweaty cock musk filled the air, and I realized that was part of the familiarity I had smelled on her earlier. I knelled back upright, my eyes still closed. She stepped forward and took my head in her hands, and ground her cock into my face, she let out little moans...