Finding Mr. Wright Ch. 04

Author's Note -- This is another part of Elizabeth's journey that does not contain any overt sex with another person, though the sexuality and eroticism is present throughout.

"Many of the signals that either stoke or diminish female desire have to do with the female brain's question: Is it safe here?" -- Naomi Wolf

CHAPTER 04

I just stood there a few moments, watching Aaron's car fade into the distance, then turn, and it was lost from sight. Trembling, I forced myself to regain my composure a bit. I walked to my car, sat down inside, started it, and began the drive home, my mind reeling.

As I settled down, the haze retreating as I returned to normal, everything came crashing back down on me all at once. I had to pull over. I couldn't focus enough to drive. My eyes welled up and the tears came flowing. I wasn't crying a sob of regret or remorse, nor one of elation, either. No, I cried because I was simply and completely overwhelmed. Not in a bad way, mind you, just in a way that I was not used to, one that assaulted all my senses and sensibilities at once. In that moment in the restaurant, when I had raised my skirt, and for an instant, when I pulled my underwear down, that part of me was nude, naked and revealed, open for him to see. Nothing was said and he didn't touch me. Yet as I lived that moment again and again in my mind, I realized one basic truth: it made me feel so alive!

I wiped the tears from my eyes and recovered myself, regaining my composure for a second time now today. I became stoic, resolved to not let my emotions overcome me like that anymore. I am a grown woman, after all, and I can handle these things. Looking in the car mirror, I fixed myself and resumed the drive home. I replayed the event again over and over in my mind, but this time focusing on the excitement. As I drove, I was acutely aware that my panties were gone and I wore nothing under my skirt. It was very noticeable, as I couldn't believe how aroused, how wet I was, how engorged I felt between my legs.

Trying to ignore that as best I could, I drove the rest of the way home. As I arrived home, I was exiting the car when I remembered the little package Aaron had given me. How could I have forgotten? I hastily opened it, sitting still in my car, and discovered it was a small smart phone. Attached to it was a handwritten note. It read:

"This is so we can talk privately and more directly. It is not active now but will be active exactly ten days from the conclusion of our lunch meeting. I look forward to speaking to you more then. A."

I shoved the phone in my purse and threw the note into the outside trash, tearing it and the package to shreds so no one else could read it or suspect anything. It was still several hours before Jonathan would be home, but I felt the need to be safe. I also needed to get out of these clothes and relax and contemplate what this day's activities meant. As I went inside, I went to my closet and stood, looking at myself again in the full--length mirror. I stared, wondering what Aaron thought of me, how I looked for him. He said I was lovely, that I was beautiful ... was I? Did he really mean it?

Looking at myself, I reached down and pulled up my skirt, like it would have been at the restaurant, when I exposed myself. He could see my garter, the straps still attached to the stockings, framing what my skirt and panties had previously concealed. I held my skirt up to my waist, looking at myself in the mirror, just like I did for him. I was showing off my upper thighs, my hips, the juncture where my thighs met, the small amount of light hair between my legs that hid my still engorged and wet mound.

I saw what he saw, and I could contain myself no longer. I went to my bed, laying down on my back, keeping my clothes on, my skirt staying hiked up in that same exposed position, one hand diving between my legs, the other snaking under my jacket, over my blouse and bra, and grabbing my breast. I was absolutely lost in the moment. In my mind, I was again in front of Aaron, naked from the waist down, but this time, after I took off my panties, when I stood, my skirt didn't fall. I stood there, letting him look at me. He ordered me to take all of my clothing off, and I quickly complied. I was completely naked before him and he told me to kneel and put my hands behind my back. In my fantasy, naked before him like that, I did what he told me to.

He then slowly walked over to me and his hands went to the front of his pants, unbuckling them and opening them up. He told me to open my mouth. I did. As he then presented himself to me, as my mouth opened and moved to take him in, my orgasm erupted over me. It was an immense feeling of overwhelming sensuality and arousal, coupled with erotic desire the likes of which I've seldom known. I arched my head backward, thrusting out my chest, my fingers moving hard and fast over my engorged mound. As my orgasm ripped through me, my legs closed, my muscles going tight, and oh my was it intense! It lasted at least twice as long as any orgasm I could remember, my body spasming as I let out a stifled moan of immense pleasure. I thought to myself that if this is how Aaron can make me feel just in my mind, imagine how he could make me feel in person!!

As I felt myself cool down and return to normal, I giggled under my breath. I imagined what I looked like then, my skirt hiked up and wrinkled, jacket and blouse all disheveled, my legs spread wide on the bed, my hand still between my legs, my hair a mess from craning my neck backward. I just lay there for a while, basking in the afterglow of one of the best orgasms I'd ever given myself.

After a while, I mustered the energy to get up. I stripped and put away my clothing, hiding my intimates back in their concealed place. I drew a bath and relaxed in the hot water. I continued to have that feeling of sensuality, of sexuality, running throughout my body. Now naked in the water, my hand returned between my legs. I repeated my thoughts earlier, carrying the fantasy further, to every conceivable outcome, and a second orgasm took me while I bathed and fantasized in the hot water. This orgasm wasn't nearly as intense as the first, but it was still pretty incredible. Better than any I've ever had with Jonathan.

As I relaxed and finished bathing, coming down from my second orgasm, the thoughts of Jonathan re-entered my mind, and unlike other times, I didn't push those thoughts away. Perhaps for the first time in a long time, my mind was actually clear on what I had to do. I decided to give it several few days to make sure it wasn't just a whim. I got out of the tub, dried off and put on a set of pajamas. By the time Jonathan got home, I had fallen into another long, fitful sleep.

*****

That weekend proceeded fairly normally, though I often found my mind slipping to thoughts of Aaron. I also thought about Jonathan and our relationship, and I resigned myself to the fact that I needed to speak with Jonathan before the end of the week. I wanted my relationship with Jonathan resolved, so that either I could forget about Aaron (as if that were even possible) or I could move on past Jonathan. By the middle of the week, I decided it was time.

That Wednesday evening, we sat and talked. It's not necessary to go into detail as to what we said, but we agreed that we had grown apart, and that we were moving in different directions. He apologized for not being the husband that I needed and for us not having children. I apologized for not being the wife he wanted. As we spoke, our conversation lasting well into the night, I felt we actually became closer, as we both poured out our emotions to the other. However, though that night we became much closer friends, we were definitely no longer going to be married partners. I felt as if I had gained a new best friend, and I think he felt the same, even if we were not suited to being intimately and romantically together.

That night was the first night I slept in bed all alone since I married, and I was more or less a single woman again. I didn't like the idea, but you know the saying: you make your bed you lie in it. It was tough, and I struggled with how the revelation would go over with everyone in my family and at work. In the end, though, it was my life, not theirs, and they would have to come to accept it. That was the easy part. The hard part was for me to accept it, and move on, starting anew.

By the next day, Jonathan had moved out, finding an apartment closer to his office. Apparently, he had been contemplating this for a while, and I was relieved that it was a very mutual thing for us both. I was looking around for a new place as well, maybe for an apartment or something similar, something spacious, but I decided to stay in our home until we could get it sold. I was not in a big rush to leave. Financially, we would be fine, as both of us had nice careers and fairly lucrative jobs, and we had a solid savings that we would split.

Of course, by that weekend, my girlfriends had all heard and had all called to talk to me. From those at work to my few lifelong friends, all wanted to take me out that weekend to 'celebrate' my new life. I thanked them all and told them we would do it another weekend. Although it was a significant turning point for me, it was more than a bit sad, too, and I didn't feel like celebrating. If anything, I just wanted to curl up with a blanket in front of the TV and binge watch the Hallmark channel. In the back of my mind, there was Aaron, but my thoughts of him were minimal as I got a grip on my new status as a single woman.

By Sunday morning, I had spent several fitful nights trying to sleep alone in my bed. However, when I woke up Sunday, my thoughts returned to Aaron. I logged on the computer and started to look up information on him, on Aaron Wright and Wright Consulting. I also checked through my legal sources and other things that were not immediately available to the public.

I wasn't surprised by what I found. Wright Consulting was not a publicly traded company but was wholly owned as a single member limited liability company by Mr. Aaron D. Wright. His name was in the news here and there, mostly as a general interest piece, reportedly being a wealthy bachelor. He certainly appeared to be every bit the part of a Christian Grey. No, he was no self--made billionaire with private jets and mansions all over Europe, but he was certainly successful. He had his charities too as the news feeds pointed out, such as Boys 'N Girls clubs and Salvation Army, among others, and he donated generously, giving of both his time and money.

I also searched and looked into whether there was any type of shadier background to Aaron. He didn't have a criminal history, so that was good. Furthermore, he wasn't even mentioned as a suspect in anything that I could find. Sure, there were the occasional lawsuits against his company, but most of those were dismissed long before they went to trial. Of the two I could find that were not dismissed, they were settled for an undisclosed amount. All the lawsuits were related to business contracts. It seemed he treated his employees and staff well, as there were no workers' comp lawsuits or suits by employees. As I read more and more, I came to really respect this man that had assumed such a new and unique place in my life. It surprised me that it arose from a random message in an online site. I would have to ask him about that one day.

As Monday morning came, and another restless night, I awoke feeling nervous. I checked the phone Aaron had given me and made sure it was charged. I kept it on my nightstand. So far, the readout kept saying "no service". I was hoping to see it active, but the "no service" message was still visible. Still, it was not Monday at 1:00 pm, not quite the full 10 days as Aaron promised.

I had taken off the entire week, so I was in no rush to get up and get moving. I figured that I needed take a few days off, relax and get organized, get my affairs in order, my personal information changed, utilities updated, and the like. Though I hadn't directly planned it this way, I would also be ready for anything that might happen involving Aaron.

Therefore, instead of getting up immediately, I just lay in bed, daydreaming a bit about what would happen with Aaron. It was no longer as an intense a feeling as it was the day that I had met Aaron for lunch, or even as provocative as it was for the few days after. My issues with Jonathan had somewhat superseded any wild fantasies with Aaron or this new BDSM world I had started to explore. It brought me back down to normal levels, as both the thought of freedom and the sadness at the ending of our marriage conflicted to leave me a bit melancholy.

I decided today was the day I would try to snap out of that feeling and start getting on with life, be more my natural self again. I arose and made some coffee, threw on a robe to warm up, and headed for my computer room. Some of the things were gone from the house now, and the spare bedroom was completely empty, now all of its former contents in Jonathan's apartment. However, my computer room was still mostly the same, with my desk and chair still in the same spot, but with more room as Jonathan had removed his desk and computer from this room. I sat down at my desk and began reading and perusing things in earnest.

Initially, I looked at news and daily updates, even work emails, but I quickly grew bored. I thought of Aaron, and what would be in store for me this afternoon, if anything. I logged into the BDSM site where I first met Aaron. I saw that I had far too many messages to even try to read or catch up with, so I avoided these altogether. Instead, I read more on the whole topic of bondage and discipline, as these seemed to be where I thought my strongest interests were. As I read, I kept seeing references to the chat rooms, so I switched over to those. Not the private chat rooms, but the general rooms where everyone went to just hang out and talk to each other. I found these amusing and figured it would be a way to kill time until 1:00 pm.

Well, you know what they say about waiting for something to happen ... the time drags on so slowly you think it will never come. That is what it became today. I got up from the computer, having learned very little, realizing that I had read about all I could regarding the topics in which I was interested. If I wanted to learn more, I would need to experience it myself. I went into the bedroom and got dressed for the day. Slowly, that helped to pass the time, but it was still agonizing waiting for the time to message Aaron.

However, 1:00 pm finally arrived and almost on the dot, the phone message went from "no service" to showing several service bars. I hesitated, waited, expecting some message to pop up. I suddenly realized I couldn't remember whether I was supposed to contact him, or he was supposed to contact me! I was in such a delirious state after our meeting that the contents of his torn--up note escaped me. I waited longer, and still nothing. I sat there with the phone in my hand just staring at it, waiting for something to appear. The minutes dragged on interminably.

After a half an hour of staring at the phone, I could wait no longer. I texted a message to the only entry in the phone, one contact, listed as "Mr. A." My message was a short one, and I typed it with nervous, even trembling fingers, as the excitement and memory of the previous meeting came to the surface of my mind. It read: 'Mr. A. I am interested in seeing how far this will go. I am available for you as you wish. E."

I tried to be cute, using only an "E" for my name, similar to his "A." I immediately wished I hadn't, hoping that it didn't sound too arrogant or contrite. I simply looked at the phone, waiting for a response. Nothing came through.

I waited longer, and five minutes dragged into ten then into twenty. I began to get dejected. Did I do something wrong? Maybe I needed to wait for his message? Did he have a change of heart? Maybe he found someone prettier, someone younger, someone better. As my own perceived faults and failings started to rise to the surface, I was finally greeted by a response. I jumped as the phone vibrated and I quickly retrieved the text message.

"E. I actually expected a message from you right at 1:00 pm. When I didn't receive it, I figured that you had changed your mind. I'm very glad you didn't. Mr. A."

I smiled as I read it. He had responded, and I was greatly relieved. I began to feel that familiar warmth spread over me again, and unlike anything I tried to do over the past few days, this brought me out of my melancholy. I felt alive again, eager to see what new direction this would take. Wait ... what direction could it possibly take? He hadn't mentioned any direction, or anything that I should do. He didn't say anything about any next phone call or lunch meeting or anything. As I was was thinking about it, wondering what to do next, the phone rang. The phone face indicated simply "Mr. A."

"Hello?" I answered it, curling up in my chair, biting my lower lip, desperately wanting to hear his voice.

"I'm very pleased that you have responded, Elizabeth," he began. "I expected that you would call almost immediately when the phone activated, and when you did not, I thought that you had changed your mind. I left my office and had to handle a few things, thinking I would not hear from you. I was pleasantly surprised when I returned and saw that you had messaged. I had to wait for my secretary to leave so that I could talk to you privately."

"I'm sorry," I responded, "I couldn't remember whether I was to message you or wait for your message. I didn't want to presume too much. I was in a bit of a shock after what happened last time. I have to admit that I didn't have the best recollection of what to do."

"Oh?" he asked, feigning surprised. "Tell me Elizabeth, what happened last time that caused you to forget?"

Ha, right! He knew what happened! I could tell by the playful tone in his voice, he was baiting me. Even if he met with other women all the time under similar circumstances, I'm sure he remembered what happened ... what he told me to do ... what I did. He just wanted to hear me say it, wanted me to relive it. I swallowed, and not realizing that I had done so, I lowered my voice to a whisper as I answered. "I stripped off my underwear in front of you and gave them to you, as you told me to."

"And what do you think I saw when you did that for me, Elizabeth?"

There he was again, probing me for an answer that he already knew. I hesitated, realizing what he was doing, what he wanted, before answering. "My body, my lower body ... nude."

"Yes Elizabeth, nude, the outer part of your vagina, your labia, and your pubic hair. We both know what I saw, but I wanted to hear how you would say it. How you answered that question just now told me more about you than what you actually said. You didn't use any vulgar words to refer to yourself or your body, nor did you use any clinical terms either. That tells me that you have some class, which is something I recognized in you right away in our lunch meeting. More importantly, since you did not use any clinical terms, it tells me that you are being real ... realistic to me and to yourself ... and that you are not seeing this as a test or experiment ... you are personally and privately invested and involved. I like that very much."

So, I thought, he's not only gorgeous and wealthy, he's a psychologist too. I would have to take note of that, maybe try to psychoanalyze him in the process. That is, when I'm not going ga-ga over him like a silly schoolgirl. I would definitely have to keep this in mind for future discussions.

He continued. "I do have a question for you about last week, Elizabeth. Tell me, what happened when you got home. Did you masturbate?"