I Hate Miles Bonn

"Yeah, he's attractive but not my type."

"Oh, he's my type. If he even looks at me, I need a panty liner," she giggled.

"Ever ask you out?"

"No, and I pretty much threw myself at him one time at a company picnic. No luck."

"Hmm."

"Yeah, you should try. I've seen him watch you and I think he's got the hots for you."

"Not a good idea to sleep with someone from your work."

"Even for one night? Oh, what I wouldn't give for one night with him."

"Yeah, well, not for me. Oh, here's my place. Let's split the tab fifty-fifty, OK? Driver, let me out by that sidewalk, please. Good night!"

Once I had stripped and was curled up in my bed, my thoughts went back to the conversations we had in the bar and on the ride home. Miles was a major hunk and I could easily see myself sleeping with someone like him. But he still aggravated the shit out of me and it wasn't a good idea to sleep with close coworkers so I knew it would never happen. But that didn't prevent me from polishing my pearl while I fantasized about him yet again that night.

The next morning after staggering to the kitchen and fixing myself a latte, I thought about my love life, or lack of love life, and whether I would spend the rest of my years doing sexual solitaire. I realized I needed a guy. I needed to feel the power of a man in bed with me, needed to feel those tender little strokes and pets after sex and, most importantly, needed to wake up with him curled behind me, his morning wood slipping between my cheeks. After my second latte, I made a decision. It was time to find a man. Although the thought of meeting someone through an app turned me off and I had heard horror stories about predatory behavior, I knew it was an efficient way to meet guys. I went online, researched several apps and found one which seemed more of a dating than a simple hook-up app. I signed up, paid my dues and created an account. After uploading a few photos and writing a brief bio, I got up and made a full breakfast.

By that evening I had already received several nibbles. Two were rather promising so I agreed to meet them for coffee. The first was a fellow named Wayne. He was a rep for a major manufacturer of high-end medical equipment; think CT scans and MRIs, things like that. It took a little time to agree when we would meet as he was frequently on the road visiting hospitals around the entire region. When the day arrived, I told Shelly where I'd be having coffee with a guy and when to expect my return.

Wayne was a reasonably nice guy and his photos were accurate. Blond hair cut short, decent face and maybe five pounds too many around his waist. As we chatted, I found myself wondering what it would be like to spend a lot of time with him and I realized the spark just wasn't there. He wasn't bad or creepy but he just didn't turn me on. When we got up to leave, I thanked him for meeting me and, with a smile, declined his invitation for a formal date. He was obviously disappointed but acted very gentlemanly about it.

The next guy who looked promising and I agreed to meet at Jimmy's late one afternoon for 'a glass of wine.' I told Shelly, took off early and went across the street. Mario was a tall, suave-looking fellow with obvious Mediterranean features and a warm smile. He ordered wine for us and we sat there getting to know each other. I was beginning to think he might be worth going out with when in walked Miles with several of our coworkers. After they got their beers and turned to grab a seat, Miles obviously saw me. He paused a second before turning back to his companions but for the next thirty minutes, he kept glancing at me with a faint frown on his face. Mario and I got along so well we agreed to extend our evening and have dinner. When we later got up to leave, he gave me the tiniest hug imaginable. After we broke apart and walked to the door hand-in-hand, I saw Miles staring at Mario with obvious hostility. In a perverted way, it did me good to knowing of Miles' obvious displeasure in seeing me with another man. Maybe, just maybe, he'd leave me alone.

And, lo and behold, he did. Suddenly, it was like old times. I was able to go to the cafeteria and if Miles walked by, he'd nod on his way to his seat. In the halls he would give me a smile, ask how I was and keep right on walking. In our meetings he was the same old Miles, still subtly digging at my reports but there seemed to be a gentle softening in his manner. You could say he was almost pleasant about most of his comments.

Mario turned out to be a nice guy. We went out a few times, I enjoyed myself immensely and decided my dry spell was over. Our third date was to the symphony. I liked classical music but Mario, apparently a decent amateur violinist, loved it. I had dressed up in a slinky, sexy dress which appeared to show more than it truly did and when Mario picked me up, I knew I had hit a home run. After listening to three magnificently well-played pieces, we went out for a glass of champagne at intermission. Mario's eyes were dilated, a smile creased his face and he was as talkative as a three-year old with a new toy truck. I admit I wanted him right then and there.

After we listened to the final piece, a full violin concerto, we left with his arm lightly across my low back as he steered me to his car. At my place I invited him in for a nightcap and halfway through our glass of wine, I scooted over to him, tipped my mouth towards his and invited a kiss. We had kissed previously but this one was clearly an invitation for more.

As his lips slowly caressed mine, I found myself getting increasingly wet and, for want of a better word, horny. Normally I am not one to have sex after three or four dates. I know, I know, nearly everyone does, but not me. But I wanted him, all of him. I crawled over and straddled his lap, my dress sliding all the way up my legs. His arms around me felt so good, so strong but I wanted his hands somewhere else. After pulling off his tie, I slowly began teasing his buttons open, hoping he'd take the hint. Mario was no dummy, fortunately. He slowly slid his lovely fingers up my front and started to tease my nipples. Luckily, I had not worn a bra and his digital work sent my lust meter into the red zone. With his suit coat still on and his shirt open to the waist, he grabbed me and stood up, holding me like I was feather-light, something I know I'm not because of my curves and my tall frame.

"Where's the bedroom?"

"Down the hall and to the left."

And he carried me the whole way! I felt like a princess as it didn't seem to bother him. He was stronger than he looked. Who would have known a violinist could manhandle a tall girl like me? He dropped me onto the bed, which embarrassingly made me giggle like a schoolgirl. As I lay there, he slipped off his coat, shirt and shoes before kneeling by the bed. I wasn't sure what he wanted to do but once he slid his hands up my thighs and yanked my panties down, I knew I was in for a treat. After pushing my dress up, he spread my thighs and slowly kissed up my legs. By the time he was halfway to nirvana, I was practically ready to explode. Most guys, in my experience, aren't so forward when it comes to dining downtown but he didn't hesitate at all. Once his tongue slid over my pearl, I was well on the way to a world class orgasm. With my eyes closed, I had all kinds of images parading across my vision. And right as I fell off that cliff, spiraling down in a fabulous orgasm, the image of Miles between my legs doing me came into focus.

Damn it! I was enjoying that orgasm, one of the best in the past few years and my mind betrayed me by putting the image of Miles front and center. As I came down from my high, my breathing settled down and I opened my eyes. Mario's were looking back at me and I could tell he was smiling. And I felt so guilty! Sure, sometimes when I have sex I'll fantasize; I think every girl does. But usually it's a vague, nonspecific fantasy about an unknown person or even persons, yet here it had been Miles!

I mentally shook myself, smiled down at Mario and pulled myself up. "One good turn deserves another," I whispered to him. I helped him get completely undressed and was pleased he looked pretty good. He was no muscle-bound Adonis, he was a businessman and an amateur violinist, after all, but he had nice definition to his bod and his erect cock was rather handsome. I pulled my dress off, crawled over his legs and bent down to return the favor. I like sucking cock. I know a lot of women don't, but getting a man under my complete control is fun. I can't take a cock too deep but I have learned using my hand on the shaft while concentrating on the bulb with my mouth is usually more than enough to please a man.

After lubricating him with some saliva, I slowly started jacking him off while I teased him by putting my mouth a few millimeters away and lightly breathing on him. Once I heard some moans of frustration, I asked if there was anything wrong.

"Oh, you tease, you know what's wrong."

"Tell me."

"Your mouth..."

"You want my mouth on you?"

"Yesss, please."

"Mmm, well, okaaay, I guess," I joked right before I finally started to blow him. He certainly seemed to enjoy it and within a few minutes he tapped me on the shoulder. I like it when a guy lets me know he's close. I'll still let him come in my mouth but the warning lets me be prepared. I told him 'OK' and he blew. His come tasted OK and after he finished, I swallowed and slid up to him. He scored points by holding me and kissing me on the mouth, something some guys won't do after a blow job.

We snuggled for several minutes before I started to tease him again. Even though he'd just come, his cock was rising to the task again. I scooted up, grabbed a condom from the bedside table and invited him to put it on. I desperately wanted to feel him in me, pounding me. There's something very satisfying about that sensation, a sensation I'd not felt for a long, long time. Once his raincoat was on, he asked if I wanted to be on top. What a nice guy! I usually like to be on top but something in me that night was looking for an old-fashioned screwing.

Once he crawled on top, I guided him into me. He started nice and slowly, built up the tempo nicely and in no time was driving himself deep into me, bumping my clit, sending me again on a rapid climb towards an 'O'. I know a lot of girls can't come with missionary but with the right conditions, I can. And that night, the conditions were great: good lover, good technique, horny me.

But it happened again! The image of Miles raced across my vision right as I came. This second time it was so distracting it took some of the pleasure away from the orgasm as my mind reeled with confusion. Why did it happen? What did it mean? I knew he was super-hot looking; all the women in the office knew it. But I still hated how he would treat me in front of others. I must have looked funny or something because as Mario recovered, he looked at me with a questioning face.

"You OK?"

"Yeah, yeah, definitely. That was nice, very, very nice."

"Yeah?"

"Uh-huh. You know how to treat a lady," I said as I reached up to kiss him. "Want to stay?"

"Yeah, I'd like that. Uh, bathroom?"

"Through that door. If you want, an extra toothbrush is in the medicine cabinet and towels and washcloths are in the cabinet over the throne."

"Great. I'll be right back."

While he was gone, I got up, hung my dress and laid his clothes neatly over the chair. Once he was done, I took care of my business, killed the light and snuggled into bed next to him. It was such a nice sensation falling to sleep with a man's arms around me. It had been way, way too long since that had happened.

The next morning, I woke up before him. I snuck out of bed, peed and went to make coffee. Once it was ready, I took two full mugs of coffee, some sugar and a small pitcher of cream on a tray into the bedroom. Mario was just waking up and once he saw the coffee, or maybe it was the naked me, he smiled. As we drank, we talked a little. It was a comfortable chat which allowed us to get to know each other even better. Once we finished, he rolled over and grabbed me in a big hug.

"Now that I'm awake, care for a little more fun?"

Of course, I was interested! I had just been through a long, dry spell and having a good lover in bed with me was a genuine treat. Without going into too much detail, I can say we enjoyed swapping oral attention, me on him first and then him on me. I was getting nervous about possibly 'seeing' Miles again as I approached my climax but fortunately, it didn't happen. I kept my eyes open and watched the expressions on Mario's upper face as he licked me clean. I had a nice comfortable orgasm, one which gave me relief but didn't send me to the moon. After a little more cuddling, he told me he would be leaving but very much wanted to get together again. And so did I! He gave me a nice kiss at the door and returned to his car.

I relaxed the rest of the day. I liked Mario. He was a good guy. But I have to be honest and say I wasn't suddenly thinking long term. I did want to get to know him better and see what might develop but I wasn't going to suddenly fall head over heels for him. The thing that really bothered me was the situation as I climaxed. Why did visions of Miles come racing across my mind as I orgasmed? I liked how Miles looked, I mean, his looks were panty-wetting, quite honestly, but there was that whole thing about how he seemed to subtly disrespect me at the office.

I let the whole issue simmer for the next month or so. Mario and I continued to go out and sex with him was perfectly comfortable, perfectly good. Not earth shattering, but certainly worth hanging around for. But, and it is a big but, the little issue with Miles' face appearing as I climaxed continued, not every time, but certainly often enough. It actually made me mad not only at myself but somehow at Miles. I know, I know it wasn't his fault but somehow, I transferred my frustration with myself into anger at him.

One time after a perfectly nice roll in the hay, Mario looked down at me and asked, "Is there something on your mind? You look like you're a thousand miles away."

"No, nothing. I'm relaxing and enjoying the closeness," I lied. I mean, how could I tell him I was wondering why I was fantasizing about another man when Mario was the one with me? That would have sent him packing for sure.

"If anything's wrong, I hope you would tell me."

"I would, definitely," I lied.

But that little episode got me to thinking. I wasn't being honest with Mario. He was a nice guy, a decent human being and a good lover but I realized I was using him. I knew our relationship was never going to last and from some of the little things he told me, I could tell he was beginning to think about the long term. And it wasn't fair to him to string him along, use him for sex and then at a later date drop him. I mean, that's what a lot of guys do, right? And I didn't want to be accused of the same thing. So, with great humility and anxiety, I went over to his place one Tuesday evening to give him the 'We need to talk' spiel. Those talks never go well. I admit I blindsided him but I kept telling myself it was better I do this sooner than later. I reassured him he was a great guy, which he was, and that the issue was me and not him. I don't know if he believed me or not but he did give me a little hug before I left. I gave his cheek a little kiss and wished him the best because he truly deserved it.

I was down in the dumps for a week or so after that. Shelly figured out right away something was up.

"You and Mario doing OK?"

"Uh, no, we kinda split."

"Kinda or actually split."

"No, we split."

"Too bad. You seemed to like him."

"I did, I do, but it was never going to be a long-term thing and I told him it would be best to split before we got too wrapped up in each other."

"Well, at least you were honest with him. Who's next on the radar?"

"Nobody. I'll have to go back to BOB for now."

"Bob? Who's that?"

"BOB. My battery-operated boyfriend," I laughed.

"Oh, you..." she laughed along with me.

Life settled down after that. I worked, hung out with some of the girls from the office and took care of my needs by dancing the two-fingered tango, sometimes with BOB and sometimes not. By this time, it was getting well into fall, the days were certainly getting shorter and there was a nip in the air on some mornings. At our October meeting Mr. Colby announced the successful initiation of the first of the four projects which Miles and I had proposed months before. He thanked us again in front of the whole group, embarrassing both me and, I think, also Miles. After the meeting we hung around and chewed on some Halloween cookies and generally shot the shit. Miles' questions and probing that day had been extremely mild, as they had become lately, and I was in a good mood. I even spent some time talking with him about political issues as well as some college football news.

After everyone had left, I stayed and helped Gwen clean up the conference room. As she tossed the paper plates into the trash, she casually asked how things were going with Miles.

"What do you mean? They are going fine, I guess."

"Aren't you seeing him outside the office?"

"Uh, no. Why should I?"

"I could be wrong but I don't think I am. I think he's got a thing for you."

"Oh, Gwen, let me tell you, that is so not the case."

"Well, he always watches you at those meetings and I know he looked at you a few times during your project like a little lost puppy looks at a bowl of food."

"He looks at me like a vulture swooping in for the kill. He's always picking on me and..."

"Which means he cares about you."

"You're joking, right?"

"Nope. Maybe he wants you to do well and thinks he's helping you that way."

"He's driving me nuts, that's what."

But that little conversation got me to thinking about him even more. He was still an amazing piece of human flesh and maybe, just maybe I had been a bit too rash in dismissing him.

I still didn't do anything about the situation until I got a call from Gwen a few days later. She invited me up to her office for a 'few seconds.'

"What's up?" I asked as I walked through her door.

"Ms. Kassel..."

"Gwen, please, please call me Erin."

"Uh, OK, Erin. Ah, it just sounds off to call you that."

"Please try."

"OK, I will. Uh, Erin, I wanted to make sure you were going to the office Halloween masquerade party."

"I hadn't really thought about it."

"Miles will be there."

"So that's what this is all about?"

"He's a good catch and he wants you. Why not give him a try?"

"OK, Mom ," I laughed, "Maybe I'll go."

"I have it on good authority he's going as Deadpool."

"Deadpool?"

"Yeah, you know, the supervillain. Red and black skin-tight suit, that should be yummy, some short swords and a full mask. You won't miss him, I mean, how many tall Deadpools are there, anyway?"

"OK, Gwen, I'll think about it but I won't promise anything."

"Sure, Dear, but at least think long and hard about it. What would you go as?"

"I haven't a clue. Look, Gwen, I gotta run. See you around," I said as I weaseled my way out of her office.

And wouldn't you know it? I was on my way back to my office when Miles met me in the hall.

"Say, Erin, going to the party?"

"I'm not sure. Why?"

"Well, uh, I thought we could go together, you know."

"Are you and Gwen conspiring or something?" I laughed.

"No, I haven't talked with her in days. Just thought we could enjoy things together, you know..."

"Miles, seriously, listen: I am not going out with you. Understand?"

"But..."

"No buts. It won't be a happening thing. I'm sorry, but I just can't. So please let me go back to my office and..." my voice trailed off when I saw the pained look on his face. I turned and guiltily fled back to my office where I holed up for the rest of the day. I may have been hiding but my mind kept going over our conversation again and again. And I had to admit to myself I may have been too hash with him but I knew I couldn't trust myself with him and the answer still had to be 'No.'