The Ideal Woman

©️ 2000, 2023 J Rydher

Rachel Greer was the epitome of elegance and class. She carried herself in a way that women envied and men craved. However she was no mere beauty. Rachel had graduated with the highest of honors from the Wharton School of Business at the University of Pennsylvania. She had smashed through the corporate glass ceiling at the age of 32, becoming CEO of Trans Consulting Corporation.

Almost overnight, Rachel had transformed the once struggling software developer into a Fortune 500 dynamo with profits in the billions.

Some saw her as the female counterpart of Bill Gates, minus the ruthlessness and greed that is sometimes associated with the latter. The majority of her employees respected her. Some even looked at her with adoration. Women in the competitive world of business looked at her as a role model. She graced the cover of magazines ranging from Forbes to PC Computing to Vanity Fair. It was not uncommon to see her on television, on Meet the Press or Larry King. Quite often, you could find her in the society pages of the daily rags, usually on the arm of various affluent men.

Rachel Greer was 40-years old. Her career was on the rise; her life was at its end. I dropped the obituary on my desk and quickly wiped a tear from eye before anyone could notice. I had seen death far more times than I wanted to as a homicide detective, but it was rare that I felt it personally. I barely held my emotions in check at the crime scene the night before. This was not the way I wanted to remember Rachel. Her life ended early, survived by no family. She was gone in the blink of an eye.

It had been 18 years since I had met Rachel. Two friends, Tom and Matt, and I had driven to Ft. Lauderdale during our college senior year Spring Break. One night, I needed a breather from the drinking and endless wet T-shirt contests, so I took the car and went to a Yankees Spring Training game.

The game had just started when three women made their way into the row in front of me. One immediately caught my eye. Her tanned skin contrasted beautifully with her short blonde hair. The stadium lights reflected off of her deep blue eyes. When I noticed that she was wearing a navy blue T-shirt with the famous NY logo on the front and the number 31, topped by Winfield on the back, I was ready to propose to her right then and there.

I went unnoticed until the 3rd inning when Dave Winfield stepped up to the plate for the second time that evening. Just as she did when Winfield batted earlier in the game, the object of my affection starting hooting and hollering for the man who was obviously her favorite player.

Winfield lifted a high foul ball directly overhead. As I looked skyward, I could feel the crush of bodies around me, each with arms outstretched in the direction of the baseball. The ball glanced off of someone's hands and nestled softly into mine. As I brought the ball down, my eyes met directly with Rachel Greer's. She had a look of both excitement and disappointment. The fans began returning to their seats, but Rachel and I continued to stand there, our eyes fixed on one another. With shouts of down in front echoing in the background, I extended my right arm out to her. The ball lay in the palm of my open hand.

"Take it."

"Are you serious? I can't, you caught it."

"Forty-five minutes ago I would have kept it, but forty-five minutes ago I saw you walk in here." Rachel blushed immediately and flashed a tender smile.

"Ordinarily I would think that was just a line, but somehow coming from you, I know that it's not. I'll take the ball on one condition."

"What's that?"

"Let me buy you dinner tomorrow night." It was more than I had hoped for.

"You're on" I said and flipped her the ball.

"Great! Oh, by the way I am Rachel Greer and these are my friends Michelle and Jillian."

"Nice to meet all of you. I'm Casey Reynolds," I said as we shook hands.

"Casey? Could you be named after The Professor?" Her baseball knowledge strangely aroused me.

"Indeed, my Dad insisted I be named after Casey Stengel." My Dad always loved the late Yankees manager, and this was his way of honoring him.

"Cool! It fits you."

"Thanks," I said, smiling somewhat sheepishly.

As the game neared its end, we exchanged local telephone numbers and addresses and said our goodnights. Rachel politely pecked me on the cheek and I felt as if I had died and gone to Heaven. Before she left, Rachel got Winfield to autograph the baseball. Even than Rachel Greer could get what she wanted.

The next evening I hopped in the '78 Mustang, that I borrowed from Tom, and picked up Rachel at her motel. On the way I stopped at a local florist and picked up a single red rose. I knew that this romantic gesture could be pushing the envelope a bit, but I decided to take that chance. My heart skipped a beat when Rachel walked out of the motel gate, wearing a sleeveless flower-print dress that stopped above her knee, and hung on her in such a way that you could appreciate the firm, toned body underneath. She opened the car door and settled in.

"Hi Stengel," she said cheerfully and reached across and quickly kissed me on the lips. I laughed and returned the hello. She looked even more astonished than the night before when I handed her the rose. "Oh my God. Thank you! What is this for?"

"For coming to Florida". A huge grin appeared on her face and she gave me the kind of look you never forget. I stepped on the gas and we were on our way.

Over dinner we discussed everything from Reaganomics to the criminal justice system to the designated hitter rule. Rachel was clearly like no woman I had ever met before. Over coffee we discussed our futures and it was obvious that Rachel Greer would be going places. It also made me feel a little inferior by comparison. I came from a family that had been in law enforcement in one form or another for five generations. I was about to become the sixth generation to follow in my family's footsteps. Though it was expected of me, it was also what I wanted to do.

After hearing Rachel's plans, I wondered if I was right. Nevertheless, I could not take my eyes off of her while she spoke. My focus moved up and down her face from the incredible spark in her eyes to the luscious outline of her lips. At times I felt myself lost in her face, her words going through me like a warm summer breeze flowing through a screened-in porch. Everything Rachel said was important to me. At the same time, her sheer beauty and presence held me in a spell.

After dinner we went to a local rock 'n roll club. Disco, much to my happiness, was dying out. After working up a good sweat on the dance floor, we headed back to Rachel's motel. Having already told me her girlfriends were out for the evening, I wasn't surprised when she invited up to her room. Her motel was surprisingly quiet considering the location and I commented on that. Rachel explained that students weren't normally allowed to stay there, but the owner was Michelle's aunt. As we entered the room, Rachel said, "I have a good idea."

"What's that?"

"You'll see. Have a seat on the couch and I'll be back in a jiff." I sat down on the couch and nervously awaited Rachel's return. I heard water running in the bathroom and figured she must be freshening up. A moment later Rachel emerged from the dark hallway, wearing just her black bra and panties.

"Follow me" she said and motioned with her finger. I quickly obeyed and jumped up from the couch.

"Wow," I said as I followed her into the bathroom. The tub was filled with water, and scented candles illuminated the room.

"I made the water a bit on the cool side since we were so worked up from dancing, but I'm sure we'll warm it up in no time."

"I'm sure you're right," I said as I watched her gracefully remove her bra and panties. My eyes traced every contour of her body.

She stepped in the oversized tub and sat down. "Are you going to just watch or are you going to join me".

"Maybe a little of both," I said. Rachel giggled in response. I quickly removed my clothes and lowered myself into the tub.

"That feels good," I said as I sat opposite her, the water cooling down my overheated skin.

"How about this?" Rachel said as she moved her foot across my balls and up the shaft of my cock, causing it to increase in growth.

"THAT feels incredible."

"Good, it's supposed to." Rachel continued rubbing her foot on my cock, increasing its length and hardness with each pass. My cock began to throb and twitch, as my breathing became labored.

"Casey, sit on the edge of the tub." I glanced back over my shoulder. As if knowing what I was thinking she said "Don't worry about water spilling over."

I raised myself up and sat on the edge of the tub. The cool porcelain created a great contrast to the night's warm air. Rachel placed a hand on each side of the tub and partially sat up; then leaned forward onto her knees. She began kissing my balls and licking the soft skin between them. I grabbed the edge of the tub with my hands to brace myself.

Rachel was right. The water no longer felt cool. Beads of perspiration began running down my forehead as the fire from her tongue warmed the shaft of my cock. Her firm breasts brushed the insides of my legs and I could feel that her nipples were hard. She reached up with her right hand and began pinching and rolling my left nipple between her fingers. I flinched slightly from the pain, but quickly forgot about it as her mouth closed over the head of my swollen cock. Her mouth moved up and down the shaft, at times taking me all the way to the back of her throat. Both of her warm hands were now roaming over my chest and stomach. Her fingers played with the hair on my chest and she continued to rub and tweak my nipples. It was all I could do to keep from toppling over the side of the bathtub.

Rachel slid her mouth back to the ridge of my bulging cock and then raked the edges of her teeth on my shaft as she devoured me again. The sensation of her teeth was like that of digging one's heels into a horse to get it to gallop. The response was nearly the same. My back straightened up and I let out a loud moan as liquid began spurting out of my aching member. In response, Rachel inhaled my cock as her hand pumped my shaft with great speed until my orgasm was complete. She swallowed what she could as the rest seeped out of the corners of her mouth. Her tongue quickly erased any trace of my cream. Rachel grabbed the edges of the tub once more and partially stood up.

She kissed me on the lips and said "Time to follow me again."

I followed closely behind Rachel like a puppy dog. We entered her bedroom and did not exit it till late the following morning. We fucked, sucked, and licked several times over, in a variety of ways, each leaving us with an exhilarating feeling. I had known this woman for barely over a day, but she truly had me wrapped around her finger. Spring Break had only one day left and I was determined to spend as much as time as possible with Rachel.

Needless to say I was a little more than hurt when she sent me off the next morning with a mere goodbye note. She promised me she would write. Over the next several months I sent her a number of letters that went unanswered. I never heard from her again. And now she was dead.

I had been on the job for over 17 years, the last 12 as a detective. After initially working on the vice squad, I had been attempting to solve homicides for the past 10 years. It was never a pleasant task, my only reward being that I could bring perps to justice for the heinous crimes they had committed. Some cases were gruesome. Some of them felt like a gut-punch. You never forgot any of them. Their names, their faces, how they died...they burned their way into your memory like a hot poker.

On the night of Rachel's death, my wife Jaynie and I had gone to bed early. After my long day at work and Jaynie keeping our boys, three-year old Terry and seven-year old Sam from destroying the house all day, we were both exhausted. When the phone rings late at night, I know it's never a good thing. I knew it wasn't Avon calling when the ringer woke me from my slumber at eleven-thirty PM. My partner, Ben Richardson, was on the line.

"Case, sorry to wake you, but you need to get over the Trans Consulting building right away."

Still groggy, I tried to talk my way out of it. "Come on Ben, I just nodded off. Cover for me and I'll catch up with you in the morning."

"Casey, you need to get down here now! The Commissioner is already here and the FBI will be here soon."

"The FBI? What the hell are they doing there?"

"Casey, the victim is Rachel Greer." The phone slipped from my hand and fell to the floor. I could hear Ben talking, but nothing was registering.

"Casey? Casey? CASEY?! Wake up damn it." I stared down at the receiver in disbelief. Rachel Greer? How? Why? I felt a nudge in my back from behind. It was Jaynie.

"Casey, what's wrong?"

"I, I just dropped the phone. Guess I was still half asleep." I quickly grabbed up the receiver. By now, Ben was ranting and raving on the other end.

"Casey, will you answer me?! This isn't funny!" A variety of expletives followed before I regained my composure.

"Ben, yeah I'm here. Sorry I didn't realize I had nodded back off. I'll be right there."

Rachel Greer? How could this be true? My stomach churned and my eyes began to tear. I did my best to hide my emotions from Jaynie.

"This was not the way I wanted to spend a Sunday evening," I said to Jaynie and rose from the bed. I quickly got dressed, checked on the kids, and kissed Jaynie good night. With the implications of a high profile murder such as this, I knew it would be a number of hours before I saw my family again. I settled into my sedan, still shocked over Ben's phone call, and drove slowly towards the TCC building. I should have been driving at a high speed with my bubble light on, but I was in no hurry to reach my destination.

I pulled up alongside the coroner's wagon and with much hesitation got out of my car. I surveyed the area and didn't see any vehicles that gave the appearance that the FBI was on the scene. Media vans were in abundance, however. I quickly moved past them and into the offices of TCC. The Trans Consulting Corporation was losing money back in the '80s faster than the U.S. mint could print it. They had seen how one of their chief competitor's, Software Alliance International, had gone from the basement to the penthouse nearly overnight. Much of the credit was going to the revolutionary ideas created by an ambitious thirty-one yr. old vice-president by the name of Rachel Greer. Rachel was under contract for another three years with SAI, but insiders felt she was definitely looking for a new challenge.

Eventually Rachel found a loophole allowing her to buy out the remainder of her contract. TCC wasted no time. They threw a bundle of what money they had left at her, and soon Rachel Greer was sitting at the head of the table in the executive conference room of TCC. Enemies are collected on the climb to the top, but it never seemed to faze her or stop her from what she wanted. Maybe this time one her acquisitions or hostile takeovers had.

Ben met me in the lobby and was speaking frantically. "What the hell took you so long? Baldwin is in there going nuts on everyone, especially Captain Kendrick. The FBI will be here soon. The media is clamoring for details."

I put my hand up to stop him and went off on him. "Shut the fuck up."

"Wha..."

"Shut the fuck up. I don't want to hear another word out of you until I ask." I turned to him and stuck my finger towards him for emphasis. "And if you ever talk to me the way you did on the phone before, I will kick your ass." My junior partner, who had five inches and thirty or forty pounds on me, was nonetheless stunned. Ben and I had worked together for 5 years and I had never spoken to him that way. Not once. As I walked towards Rachel's office, I immediately regretted my words. We had counted on each other many times over the past five years, and I knew that I would have to make it up to him for railing on him like that. This was not the time however.

I quickly moved past the reception area to avoid contact with Commissioner Baldwin. He was a dinosaur that was more worried about his image in the press than with solving crimes. His bonded teeth, endless face-lifts, and magic marker dyed hair made him look like a comic book character, not a man in a prestigious position. I was hoping to catch him in a rainstorm some day because I was convinced his hair color would run all over his clothes.

As I approached the entrance to Rachel's executive suite, I paused for a moment to look at the name affixed to the door. The dreams that she talked about all those many years ago back in Florida, weren't dreams to her. She knew she would get what she wanted in life. I ran my fingers slowly over the embossed, gold lettering. The commotion inside her office shook me from my thoughts. I entered the office and immediately saw the coroner's bag covering the victim. Kendrick was saying something to me, but I brushed past him as if he weren't there and knelt down next to the body. Upon unzipping the black shroud, I saw that Rachel Greer was indeed inside of it. I felt bile rise up in my throat and did all I could to keep from losing the contents of my dinner.

Rachel's face looked peaceful, her blue eyes permanently closed. My thoughts went back to that next morning in Florida, when I awoke early and watched her sleep for several hours. The sunlight broke through the blinds in the bedroom and shone brightly on her face. When she awoke, she turned to me, her blue eyes as bright as can be, and smiled.

"Good morning sunshine," I greeted her.

"You are too sweet!" she said, accompanied by a yawn.

"It's easy being sweet to you."

Rachel blushed and countered. "How do you know I am? You really don't know me at all."

"It's just like when you told me at the ballgame that you could tell what I was like. I can just tell that you are a sweet woman."

"Guess there's no arguing with that then."

I smiled and said "No argument whatsoever".

"Well then shut up and fuck me."

"What the hell, why not?" We both laughed long and hard until we began to kiss and the sounds of laughter morphed into the sounds of passion. As our lips pressed against one another, our hands ran over each other's bodies. Rachel's skin was smooth as silk, her muscles toned from hours at the gym. Just like everything else in her life, it seemed she was striving for perfection. I kissed my way down her stomach, lingering at her navel. My tongue made tiny circles and Rachel responded as if she were being tickled and turned on at the same time. Her body smelled like lilacs in full bloom. I slid my face between her thighs and began kissing and tonguing her outer lips. Her right leg wrapped around my back and slid up and down, hesitating only when my tongue touched an extremely sensitive area. Her voice was barely audible.

"Yes, that it's it. Oh it feels so good." Rachel's hands ran through my thick, dark hair as I increased the intensity of my tongue on her wetness. My tongue entered her and explored every part of her. Several times she arched her back as fits of pleasure overtook her. Her heel dug into my back as a particularly hard orgasm released juices all over my tongue and lips.

Before she could gather her breath, I pushed her legs up towards her, and, from my knees, inserted the head of my cock into her slick opening. "Does that feel good baby?" I said as I pushed my cock completely inside of her.

"Oh yes, fuck me Casey, fuck me."

I began thrusting quickly, faster than I normally would. The woman I was physically connected to at the moment had me more aroused than I ever had been stimulated in my life. I grabbed Rachel around the middle of her back and pulled her up towards me. Our lips locked as our private parts meshed together. I rolled onto my back and soon Rachel was riding me as hard as she possibly could. A small pool of sweat began collecting on my stomach, its source falling from Rachel's forehead. My hands reached up and grasped at her breasts. She put her hands over mine to put more pressure on them. I didn't need the humid Florida morning to make my body feel like it was on fire. Jolts of electricity shot through me each time Rachel descended down on my shaft and made contact with my balls.