Tom and Sandy Ch. 01

She said soberly, "Well, you've amazed me before."

"Yes! I have, not because I can do these kinds of things on the fly, but because I had thought about them well in advance. It's a craving I have for control. I guess the best way I can describe it is that this craving extends into my personal life, as well."

"So what does that mean for your girlfriends? If they don't let you tie them up you aren't happy with them?"

"No! That's not what I mean. The bondage stuff is… well, I'm not exactly turned off by it, but it's more of a symptom than a cause. I'm not saying that I ever wanted to tie Jenny up, but the simple fact that she wouldn't have permitted it was enough drive me away from her. I guess I need the woman in my life to relinquish control to me. Everything else is secondary. I'm not some kind of sadist, and I wouldn't ever try to push someone into something they didn't already want to do. I just want to be with someone who wants me to be in charge.

"Now, I am aware that what I've just said is tantamount to dumping a ton of bricks on your head. But that makes two of us under the pile, after all we've just talked about. So the way I see it, we can dig our way out together, or do it separately.

"And… I also know that our relationship is about to change. Already has changed, in fact. We can't go on being friends at work and then never seeing each other again. Maybe you'll go look for another helping hand, and if that's the case, I sincerely hope you find it. I'll do whatever I can to help you; but I know you probably aren't the kind of person who wants to get involved with someone like me.

"But Sandy… there's one other thing I know. From the way you described your arousal after the night at Lexus… I know that there's a part of you that wants to help dig ourselves out of this pile of bricks together."

With that, Tom looked away from her and studied the woods. Despite all that was buzzing around his head, he found that they were beautiful. Dogwood trees were getting ready to make their annual Easter appearance. Bees were humming around already bloomed flowers, dutifully spreading the pollen. Now and then, a squirrel poked its head around a tree.

But it was hard to concentrate. He knew that his immediate future, if not more, was going to be greatly affected by the next words out of Sandy's mouth. He knew she would be critically considering the things he had said. She hadn't rejected the notion out of hand, so that meant one of two things: that she was trying to figure out the best way to call the cops without his noticing, or that she was mulling things over.

He expected that she would be lost in thought. After a minute, he risked a glance at her to see if she was—

Oh, hell. She was still staring right at him. He turned to face her again. He wasn't ashamed of what he'd said; only apprehensive that he might never speak to her socially again.

"Tom…"

"Listen, Sandy, before you start, I want to say one more thing. I never expected you to understand this, much less go along with it. I know that you're trying to figure out how to extract yourself without making me feel bad, or, less happily, how to avoid me trying to hold you here. I hope you do believe me when I say that I would never do that. I also hope is that you will consider my offer for help in your situation, because believe me, I'm the same guy you've always known, just… now you know a lot more about me than you did before."

She never broke his gaze. "What do you want me to do?"

"Oh… what? She… what?" His mind reeled. This was unbelievable. He'd told her that because he was tired of hiding; he fully expected to be looking for another job tomorrow. He tried to regroup.

"What do you mean?"

"If I were interested in what you propose, what would you want me to do?"
Oh. She was just pressing for more information. To satisfy her curiosity. Oh well; he'd tell her what she wanted to know and then go look for another job tomorrow. He knew he could make more elsewhere, anyway.

"Ha. Well, a lot of things. Can you be more specific?"

Now it was her turn to study the trees. She was silent for a while, then spoke.

"What kinds of things do you expect of a… submissive… girlfriend?"

She must be collecting data on the things to warn her daughter about. He would oblige her.

"Well, just a couple of basic things. First, she must recognize that I'm in control. Her feelings are important to me, and will always be taken into consideration, but in the end, she should be willing to go along with whatever I want to do. Trust me, in other words."

"Yes…"

"Secondly, she should be open minded sexually. Let's be honest, sex is an important part of any relationship. I don't demand that she do anything she doesn't want to do, but let's just say that it won't work if she isn't willing to do some things… well, some things she wouldn't tell her mother about."

"Yes…"

"I guess the last thing is that she put aside her notions of what is proper. Most girls are taught that sex, especially anything other than missionary-with-the-lights-out sex, preferably to reproduce, or at the very least because her husband demands it, is just improper. I'll decide what is proper. This goes back to trust: if she trusts me to make good decisions, and if she trusts me in general, we have a chance."

"Yes…"

"Sandy, let's just go home for the day, and tomorrow I'll call in sick and go look for another job. No one needs to know about all of this if you don't want them to. I won't tell anyone what you told me, and I hope that you'll—"

"Tom… Yes."

"Oh my God. She's not really agreeing to this?"

"Excuse me?"

"Yes."

"Sandy? What do you mean by that?"

"What I mean is, Yes."

He stared at her in disbelief. It wasn't his way to stutter and fumble with his words, so he simply sat in silence. A few seconds passed. She was still staring into the woods.

"Sandy… you can't…"

Finally she turned to face him. Her eyes were wet.

"My husband no longer loves me. I was taught that sex was something that was wrong and should be given only grudgingly, but I can't believe that. I'll admit that he probably isn't very good at it, but from what he has been able to… accomplish, I can only say that I want, no, need more. To put it bluntly, I have been sexually frustrated practically every day since I was fifteen. I know there is more out there, and I feel as strongly as I've ever felt in my life that you may be the one who can show me. I have only one request… no, demand before I can agree to any of this."

"What is that?"

"That no matter what, my children and husband never find out through any action of yours. If I willingly… submit… to you, that will you do your utmost to ensure that they never find out. Ever."

Tom considered. This sounded like it could put an unacceptable crimp in things.

"Sandy, I don't know. I can promise you, but I'm not sure you'll agree to some of the things I'll want to do. This caveat could cause some problems.

"Will you explain?"

"Well… what if I ask you to dirty dance with me at a club? What if I ask you to go into a drug store to buy condoms and KY jelly? What if I want to videotape you? I mean, I can promise that I'd never do anything to go against your wishes; I can promise that I'll do my utmost to keep this discrete; I can promise all you want, but in the end, you have no way of knowing that you won't be exposed eventually. "

"Tom, I trust you."

"Clever. She remembered what I said," he thought to himself. "Let's see if she really means this."

"Sandy, I must confess I'm taken aback by everything that's happened today. I need a little time to think about things. What do you say we meet for lunch at say… one?"

"Okay."

"Where do you want to eat?"

"How about… Luciano's?"

That was the pizza place near their office. That was a good idea; if anyone saw them there they wouldn't think anything of it since it was likely that they were just having a business lunch.

"Luciano's it is."

Tom walked her back to their cars. They didn't speak on the way back. They both seemed to be a little lost in thought. He did find the presence of mind to let her get a couple of steps ahead of him. One of his favorite things to do was walk behind her.

Damn. That was such a nice ass. Her dress slacks hugged her curves nicely. Her waist was thin, but her hips flared out seductively. Her thighs were sublime, turning into perfectly toned legs. And her ass… oh, God, that ass. He'd spent the last three years trying to steal glimpses of her hips and backside without her noticing. Every time she walked by, his eyes were diverted. There was no posture that he had ever seen her in that made it look anything but sexy. It wasn't flat, and it wasn't flabby. Her curves were all in exactly the right places, and in exactly the right proportions. Instead of a girl like Jenny, Sandy was a woman.

After a few minutes of walking, they arrived at their vehicles. He followed her to the door of her Mercedes. She turned to look at him.

Her blues eyes were soft, devoid of anxiety. She seemed at ease. They looked at each other for a long moment, drinking in each others' sight. Finally, he spoke.

"Sandy, I'm going to be at Luciano's at one. I hope to see you there. But if I don't… well, I'll understand. There won't be any hard feelings, and I'll know that tonight I'll need to update my résumé. But I'm telling the absolute truth when I say that I'll miss you, and will always wonder what might have been.

Her expression didn't change. She looked at him coolly and simply said, "See you at one."

Tom drove back on the interstate. Arriving at his home, he put the dog out and glanced around the house. Everything was pretty tidy; it went along with his control issues. A person who had everything in control wouldn't tolerate an unkempt house; everything must be in its place. He wasn't an obsessive-compulsive in that respect, but he did like his house to be clean.

He quickly cleaned the dishes from the night before. After she'd left, he had been fairly tired and didn't feel like doing them. Leaving them overnight wouldn't hurt anything, he felt, so that was what he did. Setting the last dirty dish in place, he squirted some cascade into the tray. He turned on the dishwasher, satisfied that everything was in order.

Two hours later, he was cruising down the freeway, on his way to Luciano's. The pizza joint was nearly empty when he arrived there at 12:50. Excellent… that was the primary reason he'd chosen 1:00 as the appointed meeting time.

He walked to the counter and placed an order for a large pizza, pepperoni and black olives. After considering for a moment, he also bought a pitcher of beer. Couldn't hurt, he figured. Collecting his number tent, he turned and walked to a suitable booth.

The wooden walls emitted a pleasing earth-tone ambience. The windowed front of the restaurant was brightly lit, while the enclosed back area, where most of the tables were, was more of a secluded getaway, even during the brightest afternoon.

The college kids were mostly vacated, although a few still hung around. Maybe it was a graduate student who had selected "Under the Bridge" as the chanson du moment. The undergrads were less and less inclined to play anything good, he'd found. Regardless, he filled a glass from his pitcher and enjoyed the song.

Sometimes I feel like I don't have a partner

Sometimes I feel like my only friend

In the city I live in, the city of angels

Lonely as I am, together we cry…

He knew that it would be a good half-hour before the pizza was ready. That was ok with him. He wanted a chance to talk with Sandy. There were a few things he needed to get straight before he could continue with her.

She walked in at precisely 1:00. He knew without even glancing at his watch, because the downtown church was chiming as she opened the door. Although he didn't dare believe it was true, he hoped that she had come a minute or two early and then waited until exactly the appointed hour.

She strode purposefully toward their booth. Tom noticed that she had changed clothes. Her business attire had vanished; now she sported a black dress which fell to just above her knee. It was a loose fit; it swished about her legs with every step. His eyes instinctively rising a bit, he noted that her exquisite curves were still plainly visible.

She slid into the booth. Looking up at him, he noted that her makeup was fresh and her lipstick re-applied. Although he wouldn't have cared if she hadn't gone to those lengths, he appreciated the gesture.

"Hey there." He greeted her casually.

"Fancy meeting you here." As she spoke, she eyed the pitcher of beer in the center of the table, his quarter-empty glass, and the empty glass sitting on her side of the table. The frost still clung to it from its time in the freezer.

"I ordered us a pepperoni and black olives. Hope you're hungry."

"Famished." She lifted her gaze to his.

He reached over and picked up the pitcher. Filling her glass to the brim first, he then topped off his own. Chances were, they were both going to need it. With an internal sigh, he knew that he had to say something. It was now or never.

"Sandy… there is not an easy way to broach this subject. To be honest, it's what I've dreamed of for years, but I guess I never thought about how I'd do it. So I'm just going to be honest with you."
"I'd appreciate that, Tom. If I may ask one favor of you, it is that you never say anything that you don't mean. At least, as far as anything important is concerned."

Her demeanor had changed. At work, she was flippant and always making jokes. This was something new.

"Agreed. And I have… a few things I'd like to ask of you."

Her face barely registered it, but she flinched. He could tell that she was nervous, but didn't want to show it. He couldn't blame her; the next hour would go a long way toward determining the course her life was about to take. His, too.

"The first thing I want to say is that what we talked about in the park today has no meaning as of yet. If you reconsidered, or if you have any doubts, then I recommend that you go right now. Or, if you prefer, let's eat our pizza, drink our beer, and laugh like we used to. Then we'll go our separate ways and forget all of this ever happened."

"I thought about it. I think it would be pretty surprising if I hadn't. I thought about it from the moment you proposed it on the park bench, up to this very second. I'm still thinking about it. But the more I consider this… arrangement… the more I believe that I'll always regret not having accepted your terms." She took a pull from her glass and sat back in the bench, studying him.

"Okay. Then here is what I want you to do: sit there, drink your beer, refill it if and when you need to, and listen. I don't want you to interrupt me. If you have a question, I'll see it in your eyes and will let you know when the time is right to ask it. Remember that you are free to get up and leave at any time. I do want you to know that if that happens, I will go to my grave with what we talked about today, and also with the burning question of what might have been."

She nodded, took her glass, and sat back in the booth.

"First, I want to lay down a couple of ground rules. Rule number one is that I expect you to tell me the truth, regardless of how you feel about doing so. If there's something you're embarrassed about, or if there's something you think will upset me, I expect you to confess it. Those are not acceptable reasons for holding something back. In fact, I can't really think of anything that would be an acceptable reason.

"Rule number two is that outside of our personal relationship, you will act the same as you always have. You're my boss when we are in the office, and I will respect that status just like I always have. When you need me to do something, I want you to ask me just like you used to, and I will do it, just like I used to.

"The third and final rule is this: either of us is allowed to break off this relationship at any time, for any reason. No explanation is required, although if the breaker wants to give the breakee one, that will be okay. We are in sort of uncharted territory here, and I don't want either of us to get in further than we're prepared to go. With that in mind, let me reiterate: either party may end the relationship at any time, for any reason."

"With that out of the way, I want to say that if there is anything you haven't told me, I want it out in the open now. If this is some kind of revenge move against John for the shitty way he's treated you, I want to hear about it. Not that he doesn't deserve it, but I'm not the man for that kind of game.

"The third thing I wanted to say is that despite what we confessed to each other this morning, I still hold the utmost respect for you. A mother of two who has endured the hardships that you have commands that. I don't buy into the machismo line that women are weaker than men. I know that what you do is every bit as difficult and trying as anything a man would be expected to do. I acknowledge that you are entering in to this relationship with me at your own will, and for your own reasons. I will never question those reasons.

"Now, I will talk a bit about what I expect of you. First, I expect that you will maintain your dignity and stature no matter what activities we may partake of. What happens between us in bed does not affect your worthiness as a person. I may make some incredible demands of you as a sex partner, but that does not mean I no longer value you as a person or as a friend.

"I also want to say that I expect you to acquiesce to anything I ask you to do, with no exceptions. I know that probably makes you nervous, but that is a condition of this agreement. So that I can put your mind at ease, let me talk about what you might be required to do.

"What you might be required to do is this: anything. Anything is game. However, there are a few things that I know I'll never want to do, and a few other things that I sincerely doubt I'll ever want to do.

"In the first category we may place extreme pain. I'm not into hurting women, and I won't ever enjoy watching you suffer. That's not to say that a few of the things we do won't be uncomfortable for you, and maybe a little painful, but I'm not going to torture you.

"Another thing we can rule out is disfigurement, both permanent and semi-permanent. I'm not going to put any scars on you. Neither will you have to come to work with a black eye, or any easily visible bruises. I will not be violent with you.

"Next is a condition that you've already laid down. I can promise you that through no action of mine will your family, our co-workers, or anyone else you know ever find out about any of this. If they ask me I will deny it, and if I'm put under oath I'll perjure myself. Nothing will coerce me to 'rat you out,' so to speak. Remember that this is through no direct action of mine. If I require you to come with me to a strip club, and someone happens to see us there, I don't feel like that is something that is directly attributable to me. However, I will make reasonable efforts to ensure your privacy.

"Finally, I can promise that I'll never ask you to participate in any sexual activities that involve underage children. For our purposes, "underage" does not mean any hard and fast number, but an age at which a reasonable person would say that the kid is not old enough to make a mature decision about anything. I won't ask you to do anything that might get us arrested under child pornography laws.