Sleeping with the Competition


He daydreamed about her bubbly laugh, her easy smile, the dimple on her cheek, her sparkling blue eyes, her tender touch, the scent of her perfume, and her soft kiss...

"Pull yourself together," he thought, finishing his meal.

He wandered aimlessly back toward the hotel with his eyes on the pavement and his hands stuffed in his pockets. The two previous evenings were so much more entertaining when he was with Susan. Now he felt like a lost soul among millions in the big city. He kicked an empty soft drink can, which someone had discarded on the sidewalk, watching it roll and tumble off the curb.

Awhile later, back in his hotel room, with nothing to do besides watching some mindless cable TV programs, Brian decided to check his e-mail. After reading and answering his e-mail, he thought he'd check if Susan's computer was on-line.

There it was! The information on her computer was now his. Brian scrutinized the folders on Susan's laptop, searching for information about Feminoral. He found a project plan, a number of weekly status reports to management, a document showing the testing schedule, and some preliminary reports on the effects of Feminoral. He'd scored, and he'd scored big. His boss would be happy to see all that information.

Then he decided to read Susan's e-mail. With some password cracking software, he was quickly able to extract Susan's e-mail password.

When Brian scanned through her e-mails, he found a treasure trove of information he'd be able to take back to his manager.

Near the bottom of the e-mail list, he saw an e-mail from Susan to Jennifer, and Jennifer's response. He opened it and was surprised at what it said:


From: "Susan B" To: "Jenny M" Sent: Thursday, June 24, 2010 7:29 AM Subject: I've found him!


Remember when I told you about my dream man when we were in college? You won't believe this, but I met the most wonderful guy on the plane to Chicago on Tuesday. He's a real gentleman—plus, he's a hunk—the answer to my dreams. He works at the same company as me.

We went to Uno's for dinner Tuesday night and he held my hand on the way back to the hotel. Last night he took me on a Segway tour of Chicago and then we went to the House of Blues. We have so much in common. He kissed me—I think I'm in love!!!

Wish me luck! See you this evening at seven.



Re: I've found him! Sent By: "Jenny M" On: Jun 06/24/10 9:33 AM

To: "Susan B" Reply to: "Jenny M"

Congratulations! I knew you'd find 'him' eventually. You'll have to tell me all the juicy details when we get together this evening.

Love, Jen


Brian leaned back in his chair, then re-read the e-mails again. He fought back the thought that he was the "Big Bad Wolf" and that Susan was "Little Red Riding Hood." She seemed so innocent and naive.

He went to bed with a nagging thought. He'd fallen for Susan, too. But they really didn't work for the same company. What if she found out he worked for a competitor? He really didn't want to think about it.

Meanwhile Susan and Jennifer went out on the town Thursday evening. When they'd attended Northwestern, they enjoyed bar hopping on Rush and Clark Streets. Jennifer suggested they relive old times when Susan came to Chicago.

Susan and Jennifer visited several bars on Thursday evening and had a meal, but somehow it wasn't the same as they remembered it. They'd matured—the dating scene was different now. They decided to leave the bars; the leering men made them feel like they were prime steaks in a butcher's display case.

Jennifer invited Susan to her downtown apartment. When they arrived, Jennifer opened a bottle of wine. After Jennifer had poured them both a glass of wine and they'd settled on the sofa, Jennifer said, "Tell me all about 'him'—and don't leave anything out."

"His name is Brian. He's about six feet tall—light brown hair—blue eyes—and handsome—I think he looks like he could be David Beckham's brother. Did I tell you that in my e-mail?"

"No, I didn't see that," Jennifer said. "You just met him on the plane on Tuesday?"

"Yes, isn't it amazing? It's just like a fairy tale. My prince charming arrived and swept me off my feet," swooned Susan.

Before Jennifer could say anything, Susan breathlessly rattled on, "He's a real gentleman—he treats me like a princess. Oh, and he's a biochemist for Shtup, but he works in our Boston office. What's amazing is that we both have so many things in common. We like the same kind of food, the same kinds of music, literature... It's almost like we were made for each other. His kisses buckle my knees."

"All you've done is kissed?" Jennifer asked.

"So far."

"Are you sure he isn't gay?"

"Jennifer! I'm sure he isn't gay."

Susan was caught off guard by Jennifer's question. She rolled a quick mental video of Brian since she'd met him, and couldn't recall anything indicating Brian was gay.

Jennifer responded, "I'm not saying gay is bad. I was just wondering."

"Well, it is, if I expect a long-term relationship. I've always hoped to find a man who knocks my socks off. Girl to girl, I almost had an orgasm when he kissed me last night—just like in a romance novel."

"Yeah, I remember you had a whole collection of those on your bookshelf at college. Maybe he will knock your panties off, too," Jennifer jested.

Susan smiled—Jennifer's comment sent an image into Susan's head—the mental picture of Brian removing her panties sent a pleasant tingle between her legs. Susan wondered if Jennifer was joking with her.

"Would you like a refill on your wine?" Jennifer asked.

"Sure, this is great wine. Make sure I don't drink too much, okay?"

Jennifer refilled their wine glasses, then said, "By the way, tell me about your job. Last I heard, you were doing great."

Susan began her story, "After I graduated from Northwestern I received several good job offers. Since mom is diabetic, I picked Shtup—they were working on a diabetic drug, and I felt a calling. After about a year I became a team leader, and everything was going great.

"When my project manager left the firm, they asked if I'd replace him. It was a great promotion, and I loved my job. Unfortunately, after another year passed, they discovered the diabetes drug had too many side effects, so they canceled the project. Most of the people on our project were shifted to others.

"I suppose they liked the way I managed the diabetes drug project, because the next thing I knew, I was assigned as project manager for their female Viagra project."

"That's interesting," piped up Jennifer. "Does it work?"

"Not as well as we'd like. I'll fill you in a minute... I wasn't excited about the project—after all, it's rather embarrassing telling people what I'm working on. Anyway, the first day I met my new boss, I knew I wouldn't like him. He's about 45 years old—short, bald, and obese—he reminds me of a fat Danny DeVito.

"He's always making lewd comments or telling dirty stories involving female genitals, then claims we shouldn't be embarrassed, because we work with female Viagra, after all.

"The code name for our female Viagra drug is Feminoral. He tells all the women that 'Femin' stands for 'feminine' and the 'oral' indicates it can produce a female orgasm with just the touch of a male tongue. I just can't stand his filthy mouth."

Jennifer shook her head in dismay, "Oh my, I can understand how you'd be upset."

Susan continued, "When our female Viagra drug was about ready for Phase I testing—that's when we tested it on about twenty volunteers—he gave a sample of our drug to all the women on my team, a survey form, and a Hitachi Magic Wand vibrator. He wanted them to masturbate using the Magic Wand both with and without our drug. Then he wanted them to describe their orgasms—you know, to see how much better it was with the drug. What's even worse is that he offered to video some of the women using the Magic Wand for what he called 'research.'

"Now, I'm not a prude or anything, and I've jilled now and then, but I'll be damned if I'm going to give him all the details or let him video me just to satisfy his prurient interests."

"How awful," interjected Jennifer.

Susan picked up where she left off, "I did give the drug a try, but it didn't do much for me. I'd say that maybe it was thirty percent better. Most of the other members of my team said about the same thing.

"Then there's the pressure to get the drug to market. Everyone from the CEO on down has been on our back. Every time I turn around, they want another status report or an update on how much better the latest version is.

"I'm almost at the point where I'm ready to quit. I don't have to put up with that crap."

Susan had tears in her eyes. She hadn't intended to spill her guts to Jennifer. This was their first get together since they graduated, and she wanted it to be a happy reunion.

Jennifer put her arm around Susan's shoulder and comforted her, "There, there... I'm sorry to hear that Sue."

After she'd settled down, Susan asked how Jen liked her job as a cellist with the Chicago Symphony Orchestra. Jen responded that she enjoyed it, liked having a downtown apartment, but still hadn't found a man that she considered a 'keeper.'

"Speaking of 'keepers'," Jennifer said. "You know our biological clocks are ticking. We probably have only six or eight years—ten at most. I've doubled down looking for a man."

Susan responded, "If Brian doesn't turn out to be my 'man,' I'm considering marrying anything with a penis—with the exception of my boss, that is."

They both laughed uneasily at Susan's lame joke and refilled their wine glasses.

Finally, when eleven o'clock arrived, Susan asked if Jennifer could take her back to the Palmer House, "I have to meet Brian at eight in the morning, and I want to look my best."

"Please keep me informed how your love life is going," Jennifer said. "And when you come back to Chicago, let me know, and we can get together again."

They hugged each other and shed a few tears, then Jennifer drove Susan back to her hotel.

* * *

Brian and Susan had fallen into a routine—they met at every day at 8 AM and had breakfast in the hotel restaurant, then headed for the pharmaceutical conference.

On the way to the conference Brian commented, "Last night on the news I saw there's a Cubs-Brewers game at Wrigley field tomorrow afternoon.

"Oh darn! I've been a Brewers fan since I was ten. I'd really like to go, but I've already checked out of the hotel."

"Really... Why?"

"Because my flight leaves for Houston at 5 PM."

"Why are you in such a hurry to get home?"

"I have a lot of work to do, and I've been here since Tuesday evening, so I'm going to have to do a lot of catching up."

"You told me the yesterday you've been under a lot of stress. Why go back home and be under even more stress? Why not live in the moment?"

"But I have no place to stay... Wait, maybe I could stay with Jennifer."

"I have two double beds in my room. You're welcome to sleep in the second one."

"I'm not sure, Brian. I don't go around sharing hotel rooms with strange men."

"Do you think I'm strange?"

She laughed, "That's not what I meant. I don't share hotel rooms with... You know what I mean."

"If you reschedule your flight to Sunday afternoon, we can go to Bob Chinn's tonight and see the Cubs-Brewers game tomorrow. Then tomorrow evening we can dine at Lawry's Prime Rib, and you can fly home on Sunday. How's that for a package deal?"

Susan thought about Brian's offer for about a minute. Brian saw her furrow her brows, considering the alternatives.

"And what do you get out of this?"

"I get to be with a very pretty and charming girl for a few extra hours."

"I suppose I could delay going back to Houston until tomorrow evening."

"Well, I'm leaving for Boston at 3 PM on Sunday. I can drop you off at the airport then."

Susan thought to herself, "He's shown me a wonderful time and he's been a perfect gentleman. I really would like to spend more time with him."

"Okay—you're very convincing." So Susan changed her flight departure to Houston at 3 PM on Sunday.

Brian and Susan attended a couple of conference sessions they were interested in during the morning. They met for lunch and both attended the closing session. Around three in the afternoon, the vendors began taking down their booths and exhibits. Brian and Susan headed back to the hotel.

They met in the lobby at six, had the rental car brought around, and headed toward Bob Chinn's Crab House. Normally the trip took about forty-five minutes, but on a summer Friday afternoon, traffic barely moved—it seemed everyone was leaving town.

While they were driving, they talked shop about the female Viagra project. "Have you tried Feminoral?" Brian asked.

"A couple times. My manager gave a Hitachi Magic Wand vibrator and Feminoral samples to all the women on the project team. Then he gave them all a survey form and asked them all to try it and report back how they liked it."

"Did they like it?—the Feminoral, I mean."

Susan blushed. "I thought he was rather crude giving everyone a Magic Wand. I tried Feminoral, but it didn't do much for me. Maybe it was thirty percent better than without it."

"My buddy says Bugger's female Viagra is a lot better than that."

"How'd you find out about that?"

Brian had another fabrication he'd cooked up which he related to Susan, "I met an old fraternity buddy at the conference. He works for Bugger. Anyway, he bet me $100 that Bugger would have their female Viagra on the market before us. I took him up on it.

Brian continued, "Would you believe he slipped me some of their female Viagra pills?"

"You're kidding, right?"

"No, I have them right here." He pulled a small plastic vial out of his pocket and Susan saw it was about half-filled with small pink tablets.

"At least they're smart enough to choose the right color," she said.

"What do you mean?"

"Well, Viagra for men is blue, and Bugger's pill for women is pink. But Shtup chose brownish-black for Feminoral. It looks like a little hamster turd."

Brian chuckled at Susan's comment. Then he said, "My buddy says the code name Bugger uses for their female Viagra is Vaginitrol.

"He says nitrol is a chemical that's used to relax the blood vessels around the heart to prevent angina, and that Vaginitrol relaxes the blood vessels in the vaginal area, so it increases the flow around the vulva and clitoris.

"Since you've tried Feminoral, would you like to try a Vaginitrol to make a comparison?"

"I normally don't take pills from men that I've just met. There have been too many instances of date rape."

"You don't really trust me, do you?"

Susan felt like she'd been put on the spot. She wanted to trust Brian—her heart told her to go ahead—her brain told her otherwise. He'd been a gentleman ever since she met him, "Well... I don't know."

"I understand fully, but you really can trust me." He held up three fingers, "Scout's honor."

In the back of his mind, he was thinking, "I'm such a shit to take advantage of her like this."

"Let me think about it," she said.

Brian put the vial back in his pocket. "Let me know if you'd like to try one later."

Since traffic was slow, it took them well over an hour to reach the restaurant. When they arrived, there was a line of people out the door waiting to get in—typical for a Friday evening. They heard someone in the line ahead of them say there was an hour wait. Brian and Susan stood in line holding hands.

Behind them in line was a group of boisterous, giggly young women. Most of them appeared to be in their early twenties, talking loudly and laughing about some bachelorette party they'd recently attended, and the lewd things that took place. Perhaps they were intoxicated, or maybe they weren't, but they were annoying nearly everyone in the line.

After about fifteen minutes, Brian leaned down and whispered in Susan's ear, "I'm so glad you aren't like that." Then he kissed her gently on the lips. She put her hand behind his head and returned the kiss. Her heart began beating like a triphammer.

Susan thought to herself, "Brian has been so sweet and such a gentleman. He's shown me a great time, and hasn't asked for anything in return."

She compared him with other men she'd dated. Nearly all of them expected to get into her panties—some on their first date.

"Brian, I'm sorry I indicated I didn't trust you while driving here. I really do. Why don't you give me one of those pills?"

Brian reached into his pocket and retrieved the vial of small pink tablets. Each one was about the size of a baby aspirin. He opened the vial, extracted one, and handed it to Susan.

"My buddy says they're sub-lingual. You just slip it under your tongue and it dissolves in a minute or so."

Susan popped the pill under her tongue. "Mmm... Cherry flavored."

After another 45 minutes, they were finally escorted to a table by a waitress. When they were seated, the waitress brought them a small tray of rolls brushed with olive oil, and took their drink orders.

"I always loved the rolls here." Brian said.

"Me too, I think I could just fill up on the rolls and forget the meal, they're so good."

They looked over the menu, both undecided about the choices listed. All the seafood had been flown in fresh. Each of them saw several items they liked—it was so hard to make a decision. Brian finally chose the fresh grilled Ahi tuna, and Susan selected grilled halibut. Their Mai Tai drinks arrived, then the waitress took their order, and disappeared in the direction of the kitchen.

Brian and Susan reminisced about times they'd visited Bob Chinn's years earlier. While Brian was telling her about some birthday party he'd attended, she felt an exhilaration she hadn't noticed before. Her heart rate had increased and she felt a little flushed—Brian's story shouldn't have caused that. As she looked at Brian, she realized she was becoming sexually aroused.

Shortly afterward, Susan began noticing a nearly imperceptible lubrication between her thighs. She attempted to ignore it, but it increased and she could feel the wetness in her panties, quickly followed by the pronounced swelling of her labia.

She thought to herself, "Maybe the tablet Brian gave me works after all."

Susan accidentally dropped her napkin, and when she bent over to pick it up, she felt her nipples rub the inside of her bra—they were nearly erect and getting more sensitive. Then she felt a familiar fullness in her vulva—which she recognized as a stage of her sexual arousal. Her clitoris began to tingle when she squeezed her thighs together—she felt goose bumps on her arms, like those she used to get when she read those steamy sex scenes in the romance novels.

Brian noticed her goose bumps, "Is the air conditioning too cool for you?"

"Yes. I think I should have worn a sweater," she said, as a sexual shiver shot up her spine.

A few minutes later, she felt her lubrication increase—her panties were getting wet. Since she was wearing a light-colored skirt, she didn't want to have a dark spot on the back of it when she stood up, so she excused herself to use the ladies room.

Over the past few minutes, her clitoris had become fully engorged with blood. Hurrying toward the ladies room, she felt a tormenting sensation—the same wondrously pleasurable feeling she always had just before she orgasmed. With each step, her swollen clitoris rubbed against her panties, and the friction of her bra against her sensitive nipples caused a pleasure-pain shiver to pierce her spine.

By the time she reached the ladies room, her panties were soaked with her juices. In her rush to get inside, Susan almost ran over two elderly, gray-haired ladies, who were slowly entering the door.

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