Tom and Sandy Ch. 01

"Hi, Chris."

"I looked over this revision you guys did. Great fucking job. I mean, I couldn't have done it better myself. I know I owe you… what do you want? Steak dinner, baseball tickets in my box, you name it."

That was one nice thing about Chris. He knew when he'd had his ass saved, and was willing to pay for it when it happened. Tom considered his options. With nothing presenting itself, he spoke.

"Sandy, what do you want?"

"Oh, I don't know. How about the day off?"

Chris asked, "Tom?"
"Sure, sounds ok to me."

Tom was logging off of his computer when Sandy walked in.

"Hey, we have the day. Have any plans?"

"Well, since I didn't know we were going to get it… no."

"Let's go to the park."

"Is that an order?" She was, after all, his superior.

"Well, considering that we're good friends, and I'd never want to disrupt your life… yes."

They walked slowly through the park. The spring was young, but most of the trees had already bloomed and were filling out their green coats again. In the temperate zone, there were many different varieties of vegetation covering any area where they had been allowed to grow: elms, sycamores, maples, and the king of them all, the oaks.

Tom had always liked oak trees. Growing from a humble acorn, they dominated the forest. Taller and thicker, they always provided the most shade with their canopies. Standing steadfast in the wind, it took an almost cataclysmic event to kill one. Even a decade-long drought couldn't fall a mature oak tree.

Sandy walked beside him. She seemed like she had something to say. Tom waited patiently for her to get around to it. If he'd learned one thing about women, it was that they'd say what they had to say in their own good time. Rushing was no good.

They came to a bend in the path. Here, the concrete track bent in a semicircle before regaining its original alignment several dozens of feet down. It seemed to be a natural glen; the trees were strangely missing from the area formed by the half-circle around which the pavement wound. Tom figured this was a man-made clearance, but was willing to suspend his cynicism so that the illusion of natural enclosure would remain complete. At the far side of the sidewalk semicircle was a bench.

Sandy increased her pace and sat down on the bench. With a gesture of her hand, she indicated that Tom should sit also.

"What's going on here?" He thought to himself.

They sat in silence for a half-minute. Tom admired the view; they were completely enclosed by high-rising trees. This nook provided a very secluded conference area.

"Tom… John threw a fit last night when I got home."

A thousand scenarios played through Tom's mind. No supper? No company? Was her husband the kind of man who would get upset about one night's absence? Even a limited one?

"I'm sorry to hear that. I hope I'm not out of line if I ask why?"

"He didn't like me getting home so late. He started off by making some snide comments about me being gone. When I told him the reasons, he blew up and claimed that he could smell beer on my breath. He didn't say it, but I could tell he was worried that I was… with… another man."

Tom responded immediately. "Well, I can talk to him if you want. I'll make sure he understands that we were working on the project together and that we had a couple of beers to celebrate its completion. Surely he'll understand."

Tom and John had played golf together a couple of times. He thought he could make John realize that everything was on the level.

Sandy sniffed and looked away. Tom figured there was something else she wanted to say. He sat back and stared at the trees.

Finally, she turned and looked at him. "I don't know if that's going to solve this."

"John seems like a reasonable man. I think he'll understand. You have nothing to hide, and that should be made clear to him."

Sandy stared at him impassively for a few seconds.

"Tom…" She stopped. Obviously she wanted to say more, but he could tell by looking at her that she didn't know how.

He smiled at her. "Sandy, before you go on, let me just say that over these last years I feel like we've become good friends. We have lunch together, we work late together, we make fun of Chris together. We both know things about the other that no one else knows. That's the kind of a relationship that only two co-workers can have. I hope you will feel comfortable telling me what you're feeling, even if it's not related to our work."

Sandy looked back at him. Her soft blue eyes found his, and suddenly they were locked in one of those gazes that made Tom's heart melt.

"I think this goes deeper than that. John and I… have been having some problems. Oh, I don't know if I should tell you all of this."

"Sandy, you wouldn't have asked me to come out here with you if you didn't want to talk about it. Let's hear it."

She broke the gaze and stared at the trees. "OK. I will tell you all of this, because you're my closest friend right now. But please, let me say everything I have to say before you interject."

Tom sat back on the bench and joined her in her inspection of the trees. "When you're ready."

She sighed. "About eight months ago my niece had a bachelorette party. She was marrying this guy she met at college. They are both pretty young, and I was the oldest woman at the party. The night started at a bar, and they all got pretty tipsy. I only had a couple of drinks myself, because I was the designated driver." She laughed ironically.

"That's probably why I was invited. Stuffy old Aunt Sandy, never gets drunk, but always willing to do the right thing. Always good for a ride home. Anyway, I had seven drunk women in John's Tahoe. I took it since I knew I suspected I was going to have to drive these girls around. I was about to head home when they started chanting 'Lexus! Lexus! Lexus!' at me."

Tom knew that the Lexus club was one of the male strip clubs. It was a common destination for bachelorette parties.

"OK, sounds reasonable. Then what happened?"

"Well, I let them talk me into it, since it was a Saturday night and I didn't have to be at work. We went there, paid the entrance fee, and walked in." She paused. Her face was flushed at the mere memory.

"Tom, these guys were doing things that I would never have thought of. I mean, I've seen male dancers before, but things have progressed a lot since my bachelorette party. We went to get ice cream! The girls in our party were sticking dollar bills into the guys' underwear, dancing lewdly with them, you name it!"

"Finally, as the night was coming to an end, the DJ playing the music asked for my niece to get up on stage. She went up, and no less than six of the dancers proceeded to perform strip teases right in her face. Everyone in the place could see it! I thought it was pretty bad, but I had no idea what was to come."

Tom glanced at her, and she was blushing more than he'd ever seen.

"This must be really good," he thought to himself.

"Carol," (her niece) "was getting all the guys to sign autographs on a menu. She'd brought the menu and a black sharpie with her; I guess she knew what was coming. She said later that she wanted to keep it in her scrapbook. I can't imagine."

"Anyway the DJ made another announcement. He asked for 'Aunt Sandy' to come on stage. The girls with us were yelling at me, and everyone was cheering. I didn't want to seem like an old fuddy-duddy… so I climbed up."

"My God, Tom… the lights were so bright I couldn't see anyone off the stage. I expect that was intentional, so the models don't feel too self-conscious. Even though I'd only had a couple of beers, I felt drunker than I'd ever been. I could imagine myself as a stripper, with all these men leering at me and cheering for me. I… got a little excited."

Tom knew exactly what she meant, but he wanted to hear her say it. "Excited…?"

She looked at him for a second, then looked away again. "Sexually…"

"Ah… I follow. Then what happened?"
"Well, it all seems a blur. What do remember is this: the dancers paraded around for a while, slowly stripping their clothes. After a while, someone whispered in my ear, 'Sit still, no one is going to hurt you. This is for your niece, remember.'"

"I was terrified. I couldn't imagine what would happen that required a warning. I found out pretty soon, though…"

She looked back at Tom. He had been looking at her, trying to decipher if this story was turning her on. Fortunately, it looked like he was simply looking at her impassively.

She continued to look at him. "They unbuttoned my shirt, revealing my bra. I was about to jump and run offstage, but before I could a dancer flopped himself down in my lap. His legs squeezed my legs together so I couldn't readily get up."

Tom was interested before, but was now getting aroused. The mental image she painted was having an effect on him. Still, he tried to act unconcerned.

He spoke, "So… I trust nothing bad happened. I'd hate to thing anything traumatic happened and you hadn't told me about it."

She stared right at his face. "He had the sharpie. He pulled the lid off of it and wrote on me."

"Oh my God, this is hot." Tom thought to himself. Instead, he just said, "Damn, what did he write?"
"He wrote 'I've been a bad girl' on my chest." Sandy never stopped looking at him.

"That was all that happened; they let me go and I got offstage as soon as I could."

Tom thought for a minute before responding. "Well, it seems like they took advantage of you, and that was shitty." He hoped she wouldn't take offense at his coarse language, but he figured she wanted his real opinion, or she wouldn't have told him all of this. "But, if that's all that happened, I don't see why John would be upset…"

"Tom… and I am mortified to say this aloud, but…" She stopped again.

"Sandy, I hope you consider me a friend, and that you're comfortable telling me anything. I am not going to change my opinion of you no matter what your next words are. I think there's a reason you invited me out here, and I'm happy that you think enough of me to confess all of this. But I also think you need to get something off of your chest, so to speak, so I hope you'll continue without feeling self-conscious."

Her face softened. He could tell that he'd said the right thing.

"Tom, I've never been more aroused in my life than I was right at that moment I ran offstage."

Wow. That wasn't what he expected to hear.

"Well, those places are designed to encourage feelings like that. What happened next?"
He was almost salivating at the thought of what happened next.

"Well, I drove everyone home, and the girls were teasing me about what had happened. I pretended to be offended, but to tell the truth, I was almost about to come in my jeans."

"Jesus, I am too." Tom thought to himself. He tried to remain calm. "OK, so what then?"

"I got home late that night, almost midnight. John was still up waiting for me. He was a little drunk, I guess he got bored waiting for me so he had a few beers. He could smell the beer on my breath, but I assured him that I had only had a couple so that I could drive."

"He tried to embrace me, right there in the living room, but I was afraid that things would progress far enough that he might get my shirt off. Then he would see that message some male stripper had written on my chest, and not understand that it was just a joke."

"So, I told him I was exhausted and that I needed to take a shower before bed. I broke his embrace and went to take a shower. I was scrubbing as hard as I could on the sharpie marks on my chest, when I heard the door open."

Tom didn't want to interrupt her, as she seemed to be really pouring her heart out. He also knew that she needed to tell him, so he just sat back and nodded, without any emotion on his face. He knew that any overtly expressive body language now would scare her.

She continued, "I said to him that I was tired and just wanted to finish my shower and go to bed. But he was drunk, and said that I was his wife and I'd do what he said. Before I could stop him, he pulled open the shower door. I hadn't been in the shower long, and those sharpies are pretty damn hard to scrub off, so he saw what was written on me."

Sandy paused. She gathered her courage and continued.

"Well, to make a long story short, John nearly went ballistic. He grabbed my wrists and held them against the shower wall so that he could have an unobstructed view of me. He looked over my marking a couple of times, then looked directly into my eyes."

"Tom, I was so afraid he was about to hit me. I started babbling at him, telling him that it was all a mistake, but I couldn't explain it to his satisfaction. He just stepped out of the tub and walked away."

Tom absorbed all of this and replied to her, "Sandy, have you tried to explain that it was all just a stupid joke? That you had this happen against your will?"

She looked at her feet. "I've tried. He won't believe it. I think he believes that I had sex with another man that night. I begged him to believe me, but he won't have any part of it. He said that he wouldn't share his bed with a whore, and since then I've been sleeping in the spare bedroom. We haven't been intimate in nearly eight months."

Tom leaned back and looked into the woods. He was a little surprised that she had come to him with all of this, but he was glad she did. He had long wished that he could get close to her in some way, but her marriage and conservatism had always blocked the way. He realized that this was his opportunity.

"Sandy, let me first say that this is not your fault. You were in the wrong place at the wrong time, and you must not feel that you are due any blame here. Secondly, John is being unreasonable by not listening to your side of the story. I don't know if you want to hear my third observation…"

"Tom, I've been sleeping in the guest bedroom for eight months. We've been explaining it to the kids by saying that I have a contagious disease and that John doesn't want to get it; but after this amount of time I think they are starting to disbelieve that. At this point, I'm ready to hear any opinions."

"Sandy… are you sure you want my opinion? I tend to be a little more harsh than some people can deal with."
"I know that, Tom, and that's why I asked you. Believe me, I've exhausted every other resource available: the pastor of our church, my sisters, my mother. They all seem to think that this is my fault. After all, it's hard to explain to your pastor or your mother why you were at a male strip club with some teenage girls in a way that illustrates that you were in the clear."

"Very well, Sandy. Here is my opinion: John is an asshole. In my view, he has been looking for an excuse to get you out of his life, and the incident you described provided it. If he was any kind of a loving husband, he would hear your side of the story. Moreover, he should believe you before anyone else, because you're his wife! You promised to take him for better or for worse, and it sounds like to me that he's jumping to conclusions so that he can find a way out of your marriage."

She stared back at him for a long time. Finally, she spoke. "Is that what you really think?"

Tom met her gaze evenly. He was at ease here; he was confident in his thought process.

"Sandy, I think that if he was any kind of good husband, he would have at least heard your side of the story. It sounds like to me that he had his own preconceived notions and decided to judge you based on them."
She sat back on the bench and stared at the trees for a few minutes.

She turned to him and asked, "Tom, what would you have done if you were in John's place?"

He sat back and thought about the question. This was tricky. If he said what he really thought, it could get uncomfortable. On the other hand, if he simply said what he thought she wanted to hear, he would be doing her a disservice. He decided to expose his true feelings.

"Sandy, if I were him, I'd have done anything in my power to make you realize that you were my wife, and that I loved you. I'd have let you finish you explanation, then accepted it regardless of whether I thought it was the truth or not. Let's face facts: You are a beautiful woman, on an altruistic mission to make sure your niece made it home safely. He should realize that you got caught up in some stupid teenage shenanigans, and that you were not at all to blame."

She looked at him. "Do you really think I'm beautiful?"

"Sandy, I wouldn't have said it if I didn't think it was true. In case I wasn't plain enough, let me add this: I would kill to marry a woman as attractive as you are."

She stared into his eyes for a long moment. It was bliss, locking her gaze.

"Tom… I have had similar thoughts about you. I…"

He said nothing, knowing that she was going to say what she felt regardless of any interjection of his.

"…I have pictured your face when John was making love to me."

Wow. This really changed things. She wouldn't have said that if she wasn't… interested… in him.

"Sandy…" He decided that it was now or never. She'd revealed enough to him that he could fearlessly proceed. If she got offended, he would back off, but his job would not be in jeopardy.

"Listen… I can't tell you how flattered I am to hear that. And to tell you the truth… well, I can't remember the last time I had an orgasm where you weren't the main attraction. If that sounds crude, I'm sorry, but I'm an engineer, not a poet."

She looked at him for a few seconds.

"Tom, you have no idea how much I want to kiss you right now."

"The feeling is mutual. But I think you need to consider things before we plunge into this. And…"

Tom knew this was the critical moment. He knew what he wanted from her, and he felt that she might be willing to give it, but the shadow of doubt crept across his mind.

He resumed. "Sandy, I broke up with Jenny for one main reason. It wasn't that she wasn't attractive. It wasn't that she wasn't smart enough. It wasn't that she wasn't interested in me."

There was a long pause. She looked directly into his eyes for the entire time.

He sighed, and decided to press forward. It was now or never.

"Sandy, I broke up with her because she wasn't submissive to me."

She blinked.

"I… what? What do you mean?"

He was looking at her intently, trying to gauge her reaction. He didn't see any disgust, but that might have been because she didn't understand what he was talking about. He needed to press her to gather more information.

"Sandy, this is sort of hard to explain. Jenny was such a nice girl. And in some ways, that isn't what I'm looking for. At least, I don't want a girl that's nice all the time. I think from what you know of me that you wouldn't be surprised to learn that I get uncomfortable when I'm not in control. I need to feel like I'm on top of every situation. Not necessarily overtly, but I need to know that I pull the strings on all the important things.

"For example: when Chris came in yesterday nearly in tears because of some changes to the design parameters of our project… I didn't panic. I told him that if we couldn't do it, no one could. That's because I already had in mind the solutions to that scenario, and every other scenario I could think of that might pop up. Why? Because I need to control the situation. I feel this craving to have things under my thumb, in a manner of speaking.

"No one would have blamed me, or you, if we hadn't been able to complete that redesign in one day. It would normally have been at least a week's worth of work. But I had already done a lot of the preliminary calculations for that kind of eventuality. Did you really think I could redesign that entire project in what… ten hours?"