Thawing Miss Grover

Then another shock followed.

"I must suggest to Chic that he have a sound system installed throughout the building; installation costs could be heavily reduced by running the wiring through the air-con ducts."

There was silent applause for such a great idea.

Then, "Has anyone an idea how to make a man believe that suggestion was his?"

Several were voiced and Isobel appeared to favor the one: 'Drop it on him over the second bottle of wine'.

Isobel's phone went. Few people had her number and she was surprised to find no caller identification.

"Yes?"

"Hi, it's Chic. This is my new phone so the number will be automatically entered into your phone book if your phone is switched on. My number ends in 089 so just punch in Chic against that number. If you don't know how I'll show you tonight."

"Excuse me?"

"Oh, I was calling to ask if I could sleep with you tonight. Oops, sleep in your apartment tonight. I take possession of my new apartment tomorrow and have nowhere to stay tonight."

"Where did you sleep last night?"

"Do you really want me to answer that?"

"Goodness, no thank you. Your parents have a mansion, I believe with eight bedrooms plus a complete visitor's home-unit in their grounds."

"I wouldn't know, I've never seen where they live. Anyway, you wouldn't want me working with them all day and then being with them all night, would you? Give a guy a break."

"No, of course not. You could stay at a hotel?"

"Even the most expensive ones are impersonal and lonely. You never know what type of woman might attempt to pick me up."

"Pick you up?"

Chic coughed. "I meant approach to engage in conversation. I find that men are sometimes so boring to talk to, when focusing on sport, politics and breasts and smelly armpits."

"You mean men talk about armpits?"

"Oh yes, other men's and women's armpits. I'd be exposed to all that...

Isobel coughed nervously. "Only if you promise not to touch me."

"I promise, unless."

"Unless what?"

"You don't force me to touch you."

"In that case, yes you may stay in my apartment tonight. You may take me home in your Mustang."

"How did you know I've been assigned a Mustang?"

"The office gossip network. You are driving a leased Mustang until your poor vehicle receives TLC."

"TLC?"

"Tender loving care from restorers. It's said you won't take an upgraded model because you love your car. I think that's so sweet."

"What side of the bed will I sleep on?"

The connection was cut before Isobel could deliver her withering response. She felt a flush spread over her upper body and whispered, "Oh my."

Forty minutes later an urgent courier arrived at Isobel's desk with a lovely bouquet.

Her team went "Ooh!" and a flush rampaged over her skin.

She stared everyone back to work and then read the note. All it said was, "To an Angel." Isobel suddenly found it quite difficult to breath.

Chapter 4

Isobel was in such a tizzy.

First, she didn't want Chic coming to her apartment, and then she confused herself by wondering if he'd kiss her and perhaps touch her, err, perhaps modestly, and then she sighed and said aloud, 'Oh let him come' and then was horrified, thinking she didn't mean come sexually.

Then she fussed over what to wear, and had rejected three choices when the intercom went.

"Hi, it's Chic ready to come into your sanctuary."

Horrified, she said, "But I'm not ready."

"Can't you decide what to wear?"

How on earth could he know that? Was he clairvoyant?

It was too much for her emotionally, in struggling to be Isobel instead of Miss J Glover.

"Come up," she said, pressing the release of the entrance lock on the door into the lobby. I'll stayed undressed as I am."

He reaching the apartment, knowing that emotionally, she'd be in a mess with the prospect of a male entering over the threshold of her sanctuary.

"I'm in an emotional mess," Isobel quavered.

She was dressed only in a push-up bra and boy short panties, with nothing on her feet.

"Oh my, your boobs look wonderful."

The flicker of anger that Isobel experienced was quickly extinguished by her emotional uplift when thinking good heavens, he admired her breasts.

She couldn't help but advance to wondering what he'd think of her vulva when she exposed it to him.

What! Had the Devil taken hold of her mind? She couldn't believe that this wretched new CEO could have taken such a hold on her without appearing to try hard. He must have seduced hundreds of women to have perfected such a technique.

"Are you interested in having sex with me?"

She nodded helplessly.

"Well, first things first. You need to project yourself into that role, so let's go shopping as most stores will still remain open for another hour. Get dressed, I suggest remove your bra and wear jeans, a loose top and sneakers."

"I'll not go out without wearing a bra," she said aggressively.

"Californian women dress casually to go for wardrobe shopping and don't wear a bra unless they have over-sized boobs."

"Oh, I didn't know that."

"Well, you are amid efforts to reform and update you, right?"

"Very well, I'm in your hands."

Five minutes later, Isobel emerged in sneakers, jeans and her former university branded-sweat shirt and with her lipstick freshened.

Chic ran a hand up under the sweatshirt.

She flinched, but didn't panic. It was as if she knew it was part of accepted humiliation.

"How long is it since a guy has had a handful of your warm tit like this?"

"A little over four years."

"Christ!"

"I know. I had been mistreated in a relationship and gained my freedom by running away, loosing everything including my self-respect."

"I more or less guessed it was something like that," Chic said, tweaking the nipple.

"Omigod," Isobel gasped. "Let's have sex instead of going shopping."

Grinning," her seducer said all in good time, first things first.

"You are rebuilding from the ground up but we could be thinking pussy within two hours.

They returned home by cab with half a wardrobe of new summer's season clothing and some jewelry including Chic's friendship gift, a gold bracelet that Isobel couldn't help repeatedly glancing at.

Fingering the bracelet, she said, "Does this gift mean we are likely to soon enter a serious relationship?"

"I have to be straight with you, Miss Grover. I have my parents' genes that makes us addictive to sex, taking most opportunities that comes before us as individuals.

"I see. Have you ever had sex with your parents.?"

"No. Fortunately the three of us are able to exercise some level of control."

"Then I should have sex with you."

"Yes, if that's how you feel. Regard me as a blackguard."

"But I wish to have sex with you, and stand in line waiting to be chosen as your next receiver."

"But that's demeaning."

Isobel kissed him and said she didn't care, it would be her way of rewarding him for assisting her to regain her former life, reversing the trend she had been in, heading to become a dried-up spinster.

Chic thanked her for that and leered saying, "Come on, let's get this pile of shopping into the second bedroom for you to unpack at your leisure, and then I'll slip off your panties."

Isobel scoffed she wasn't wearing any. When dressing to go shopping as the new Miss Glover she'd decided to go shopping not wearing underwear like the average California woman, though probably not all elderly females.

Fifty minutes later, wearing only a big smile, and Chic was also nude, she ran her tongue up the length of his 7½ inches and said, "This is of lovely instrument of beauty."

"Thanks,' he purred. "I can't wait to feel it sinking inside you."

She said she would attend to that immediately, and positioned herself with her upper leg held high, facing him.

He asked would he need to be careful and said didn't think so, saying she regularly used a thick 10-inch dildo.

"How regularly?"

"Almost nightly and some mornings as well," she said, blushing.

Nevertheless, considering the circumstances bringing her under such sudden change, Chic knew to proceed slowly and to back away if she called him to stop.

He found it hard to believe the sudden change in her within less than a day from the former dry and selfish Miss J. Grover to become this complaisant, a little more energized and remarkably quite worldly Miss Isobel Grover, who now was appearing rather eager to have sex.

Obviously, he'd triggered the thaw that led to that sudden transition and it basically may have simply allowed the new or regained personality model trapped with her to burst free. And, quite obviously to him now, he was taking a risk to setting her up to wallow in sexual fulfillment for the first time in years.

What if during this second stage of substantial change in her life led to a personality implosion, leading to serious regression?"

With his self-confidence taking a hit, he wisely asked, "Do you really feel ready for this, Isobel?"

"Yes."

Well, that response was less that helpful.

"Err, what if you have a sudden change of mind?"

Yeah, that drew a response.

"I'd let you know without screaming to bring down the ceiling, she said. "Please get on with it, Chic. I want it, please do your bit."

She moved in and grabbed his deflating erection and dropped to her knees and began to lick it back into full operational mode.

She then took it into her mouth deeply, and as it was being slowly withdrawn, she lightly squeezed his nuts.

She spat him out and stood, wiping her lips.

"That was good," he said, feeling rather relieved.

"Then what are you waiting for, sweetie. Carry me to the bed, dump me and thrust it into my wet pussy, or in your over-protective concern for me, have you forgotten how to fuck a lady?"

That did it.

He followed those simple instructions and then rolled her on to her side, lifted her upper leg high that she lifted an arm to support that lifted leg a little distance below the knee.

He carefully he inserted, after being surprised to find a nicely trimmed bush that allowed a swelling pinkie to be well displayed.

"Gorgeous," he grunted.

"Ooh, you've a man who doesn't think a woman's pussy is ugly."

He rammed the remaining length home and their groins thudded together and most of her body hook with the impact.

"Omigod, how amazing," she gasped. "More, much more and slowly increase the pace."

Well this female knew what she's about, Chic thought, completing a 180 deg change in his earlier thinking.

He began to slowly build the tempo of his thrusting and he bent over to deliver a sweet kiss, only to have Isobel dismiss that attempted tenderness by crying, "Thrust your tongue into my mouth so that we can engage in tongue play."

He thought facetiously, "Goodness, which Planet has this babe landed from?"

Chic went to sleep later, thinking amazingly, that had been far from engaging in boring sex.

* * *

Next afternoon, Chic supervised a guy and two females moving in his possessions into his newly rented penthouse apartment in a recently completed block. They included furniture and furnishing he'd purchased online with instructions to be delivered to the depot where his other possessions were in storage.

After the moving crew had departed, he stood in the living room thinking the setting didn't feel quite right, although the two female movers who'd decided where things should go hand congratulated themselves for what they called 'improving the ambiance of the room by excellently judged furniture placement'."

He was scratching the back of his neck in minor frustration when the doorbell rang.

"Hi," said the caller, holding a plate of small cakes and a bottle of sparkling wine.

Wow, she looked great

"What a vision of loveliness," he said softly.

She said nervously she supposed that was a flirtatious comment.

He said with a tone of authority, "Actually, it was a soft and well-meant compliment, very much like one would say when viewing the portrait of an attractive lady on a gallery wall."

"Welcome to the penthouse floor, Mr Madison, she said, holding the welcome gifts forward.

He took them, kicked the door fully open and invited her in.

"Thanks," and knowing she would be Mrs Carruthers, still asked, "And you are?"

"Isadora Carruthers from two apartments on the other side left of the elevators."

"Is it okay for me to call you Isadora."

"Certainly, and may I ask how did you get your unusual first name?"

"I was named after my father's business. Chic Swimwear."

Isadora eyed him closely and said, "Omigod, I can see your mother's likeness in you. I've met her two or three times. She and my mother Jilli are best of friends. Jilli is roughly your mother's age and often models swimwear for older females for Chic Swimwear in its ads and in live promotional shows."

"Your mother was interested in me because I was a female dress designer before my marriage to my late husband and your mother and my mother Helene were on the fame charity trust for about five years, I believe."

"You said your late husband?"

"Indeed, he exchanged me for a younger wife a few months ago when our divorce came through. I prefer to think of him as my late husband, rather than my former husband but I know not why?"

"Perhaps is was because he hurt you be becoming such an unfaithful skunk, bringing a big slice of your world tumbling down around your ears."

"Hmmm, that was a perceptive comment."

"I learned to become independent and to think sensitively. For most of my childhood, I had stand-in surrogate mothers and rarely saw my parents sometimes for weeks on end, and they worked long hours, my father consolidating and then expanding their business base and my mother spending days on the road on end. She was the first salesperson in the fledging partnership to bring in commercial quantity orders and in doing so became the best salesperson Chic Swimwear had had and is ever likely to have."

"Are you connected to the company?"

"Yes, just recently I came from New York to be its CEO."

"CEO, but Chic Swimwear is a major swimwear manufacturer?"

"Indeed, and a major swimwear maker internationally. My parents and their bank own the company and between them they held the power to appoint anyone to the position they wished."

"I'd only had one job before then and that was working for a huge chain of stores specializing in selling diamond jewelry. I worked in many sections of the company and when I returned from London in the UK with my MBA, I soon became a senior vice-president and then president of that extensive jewelry chain."

Isadora said, "Oh my, I'm in the presence of greatness."

"Possibly, if I end up doing great things."

She said, "Do you feel comfortable in here in this new main room of your new residence?"

"Um, since you have mentioned it, no. I think this room could be set up better. At my request, the moving-in women did what you see and thought it looked lovely, but my feeling is the overall ambiance could be improved. Look, I'll go and pour us a wine. Meanwhile, perhaps you could consider possible better placements of things. When you have done, I'll shift anything to your instructions."

Chic returned with two glasses of light pink sparkling summer wine.

They toasted to the success of his relocation. When he put down his glass, Isadora immediately gave instructions.

"I'd like the two armchairs and coffee table over there pulled out and the longer leather sofa put in their place."

And it went on and on and included placement of paintings that were stacked against one of the walls.

"That's it."

"Thanks," he said, holding out his hand.

Isabella shook it lightly and said she was happy to be of service.

She asked, "Um dinner today, are you aiming to eat in?"

"No, I'll eat out. Perhaps you could recommend a family-owned restaurant and join me?"

She asked was that an attempt to date her.

"No, you may have someone. It's just a pleasant way of thanking you for your warmth and useful consultancy."

At the opened doorway, Isabella paused and looking at him in the eye, said firmly, "You are invited to date me anytime you wish."

Chico adopted his wolfish grin for her benefit.

"Thanks Isabella, I think we're on the same wavelength and will become close friends. You have accepted my invitation for dinner tonight and I'm declaring it's a date."

"Ooh, does that change anything, first being a thankyou dinner and now that is being converted to a date dinner?"

He smiled and said that would depend on her.

She smiled and Chic expected her to walk off with a cheerful wave. Instead she moved in closed and lifted her chin.

He kissed her delicately and unhurriedly.

"Omigod," she practically wheezed and as he then lifted her then lowered her to the ground he turned. She walked off with a cheerful wave.

He closed the door smiling, and said aloud happily, "I'm on a promise but don't know when. With her being a recent divorcee, it will be clever of me to allow her to reel me in for sex."

Chic looked at his altered living room with satisfaction, aware that the room now had good ambience and once those paintings were hanging, the room would really look like a home.

He poured himself another drink and sat in one of the lounge chairs and thought about Isabella and soon found himself wondering how far her completely bared breasts would slump when she was standing. He enjoyed giving his attention to consider such detail.

Perhaps he and Isabella could establish a serious relationship later, rather than sooner, and she might wish to avoid total intimacy from developing too much for several months, perhaps even a year, to allow the distaste of her divorce to totally disappear from her mind.

Once they had completed their first evening of sex, they'd both know if they were a good fit.

For the occasion of their first date, he dressed in 'smart casual' and was confident he looked up to scratch.

Isabella, wearing a midi-length bright red wrap-around A-line dress, arrived in the foyer more or less on time and said they could stroll to the nearby family restaurant.

"You place or mine afterwards for coffee.

"My place is fine," Isabella said. "I have condoms on hand. From what I've read, I knew I should have them on hand."

Chic's mouth watered and he licked his lips and said 'Great' firmly to avoid the risk of croaking that pleased response.

He took her arm and off they walked on to the sidewalk and headed for their night of Italian food, their early night, rather.

"It is so enjoyable walking with you," he said, attempting to inject romanticism into their togetherness.

"Are you attempting to seduce me when it's still only twilight?"

"Err, yes."

"Good as that what I wanted to hear. Please don't drink too much alcohol this evening Chic because we want your erection to be at maximum for most of the night, meaning until we decide we're close to exhaustion."

"Message heard and understood," he said raised his hand on the far side of her to cup her breast.

"You cup my breast so expertly, Chic. I'm expecting to find tonight that you have a silver tongue when it comes to licking you-know-what."

"What her ladyship desires her ladyship will get," he said, oozing charm in his tone.

He was looking forward to Isabella attempting to outlast him that night. He reveled in this type of challenge as it was a superior alternative to thinking about work, moving one's bowels or attempting to anticipate where one's next fuck would materialize from.

Yes, he was confident that Isabella would be incapable of walking to her bathroom without support at dawn.

Ah, life was so good. Actually, she may well prove to be a good match for him, err meaning socially, he thought. Um, as well as being long-term companions, suiting the needs of both of them. Time would tell.