Ch. 01 Unexpected Weekend

Chapter 1

Beginnings

My girlfriend, Sarah, and I met when I was in my fourth year of university and she was in grad school. She got an MBA and I made the mistake of getting an English degree. Two years after college graduation and I'm a part-time admin assistant at a tech company and a part-time yoga instructor, while she has a successful career as a business consultant. She travels all over the world for work while I take the bus downtown to a yoga studio. We're kind of a mismatched couple.

We look the part, too. I've always been small for my age and have the slight, lithe build from years of yoga, and I wear my light brown hair kind of long. She keeps her blond hair boardroom-short and has a junior executive look.

She makes more money than me, of course. A lot more. She pays for almost everything. It's kind of emasculating when she picks up the check. I don't like it but I kind of do: it takes a lot of pressure off of me and I can spend my little paychecks on my rent and personal expenses, like clothes and books and stuff.

We both have roommates and we don't get a lot of private time. A couple of weeks ago, we planned a romantic long weekend at her parent's beach condo, about a two-hour drive away. Sarah was going to be out of town on business that week. I planned to drive out to the condo on Saturday morning. She was going to fly back and drive straight to the condo from the airport that afternoon.

She had packed a weekend bag before she left for me to bring out to the condo with me. I packed my bags Friday night and drove out to the coast the next morning.

Saturday morning

I pulled up to the condo late morning and unloaded our bags, hauling them up the front steps and digging the front door key out of my pocket. I opened the door and went in and immediately noticed the shoes in the entry way. I took a quick look around and it was clear that someone was already staying there, in the second bedroom at the front of the condo. A guy, by the look of it.

I called Sarah, upset about finding someone else already at the condo. She said wait, I'll call my parents. She did and called me back.

She said that a family friend, John - a high school friend of her older brother - had flown out to the west coast for a business meeting in the city on Monday morning. Her mom had offered him to stay the weekend ahead of his meeting. Her mistake, mom had said, somehow the calendar got messed up. Sorry!

Sarah tried to reassure me that it wasn't a big deal. We could just stay in the big bedroom and keep to ourselves for the weekend. Besides, he was going to be gone early Monday morning before breakfast because he had to drive to the city for his meeting, and we would have the condo to ourselves until Tuesday morning.

I unpacked our bags in the master bedroom, hanging up our things and putting the clothes in the dresser drawers, and sat down in the living room to watch tv.

It was a grey, overcast day. I was seething. Angry. I was ready to tell this John guy to leave: Sarah and I had the weekend booked. I was going to insist that he went to a hotel. I was surging with adrenaline and ready for a confrontation.

A little later, I heard a key rattling in the door and it opened to a handsome, fit man, big and tall. He looked like a jock, the kind of guy that would have bullied me in high school. He walked in, probably coming from the beach, wearing an exercise shirt and running shorts. He had piercing green eyes that made me strangely nervous.

All my anger evaporated, the adrenaline turning into nervous butterflies in my stomach. He seemed to fill the hall between the kitchen and entryway. I got up to introduce myself. I could smell the sweat coming off of his body as we got closer. We exchanged awkward introductions. He had a firm handshake. I felt shy.

He was surprised I was there. I explained about me and Sarah. Was he going to be in the way, he asked? No, no, I said, apologetically, somewhat embarrassed. It's no problem! Mistakes happen. No big deal! I said. You're welcome to stay. Sorry for the mix-up!

I went into the master bedroom, confused and humiliated by my reaction. What the hell was that? I thought. I had apologized to him. I was ashamed. I felt smaller and weaker when I looked up and shook his hand. There was an overpowering masculinity. I felt strangely submissive.

Saturday midday

I was laying on the king size bed in the master bedroom, sitting with these emotions, when Sarah called from her hotel. We made small talk and I was still feeling guarded and vulnerable.

We talked about John. He and her brother had been seniors in high school when she was a sophomore. She said she used to have a huge crush on him. I felt a pang of jealousy. She said she had looked him up on Instagram after our last call. He was hot! she said. He's so handsome! Look - my phone buzzed and I opened the screenshots she had messaged me.

There were four pictures. Jesus. He looked like a male model at the beach - swim trunks and surfboard. Toned. The dark golden light of sunset was just right. Isn't he sexy? she said. I mean, c'mon! He's hot, right?

I mean, yeah, whatever, I mumbled. I guess so.

She was humiliating me - and it was easy: I was already feeling ashamed by my reaction to meeting John.

We had played this game before, her teasing me about being attracted to men, about men being attracted to me. She'd make comments about my legs and butt in my yoga pants, my long hair. Teased me about how she sometimes saw guys checking me out from behind.

Maybe you're attracted to him, she said in a husky voice.

What?! No! I'm not gay!

She liked making me uncomfortable. She turned suggestive, coy. She said: I think you are attracted to him...

It's ok, she said quietly. I get it: He's soo hot. Can you imagine what it would be like to be with him? Like, what it would be like to stand in front of him wearing cute little panties and lingerie, and nothing else? Can you imagine him holding you tightly in his strong arms - a breathy sigh - feeling his hands on you... feeling his body against yours, his heavy cock in your hand? What it would be like to get on your knees, looking up, wanting to know what he would feel like in your mouth? Mmm.

She was audibly aroused. I was jealous and resentful, uncomfortable, humiliated, but... aroused. This is sexy, I thought, hearing her moans and hissing sighs. I gripped my erection through my jeans.

Are you touching yourself? I asked. She breathed out yesss...

...are you? She asked.

I felt a strange cocktail of humiliation and sexual arousal. Quietly, ashamed, shy... vulnerable. I said: yes...

Oh, god that's so hot, she moaned. She went quiet except for heavy breathing. I could hear her orgasm come in tight quick gasps.

We were quiet for a few moments while she recovered. Deep slowing breaths.

Have you ever thought about being with a man?

No.

Sexy purr: you have now...

... talk to you later.

Click.

I was stunned. Almost dizzy. What just happened?

Saturday Afternoon

Now things were really weird. I tried to ignore it. I went into the kitchen. John was in the living room watching sports, freshly showered, wet hair, smelling like clean soap. I was a tangle of emotions, feeling shy, flustered. I was afraid of making eye contact, afraid that my eyes would betray me.

This is weird. I've never felt this way before. Everything seemed upside down, or somehow backwards. I couldn't handle it so I just got a drink from the fridge and retreated to the bedroom.

Sarah called again. Her flight had been delayed and she wouldn't be there till late that night. I felt disappointment welling up inside me.

She called again an hour later: the snowstorm was getting worse. My flight is canceled, she said. I have to go back to the hotel and stay the night. Don't worry! she said. I'll be there tomorrow, and we'll have fun! And we'll have Monday and Tuesday together!

She was trying to hang on to the sexual tension that had been building since we first planned the trip, and all last week.

And besides, she giggled, lucky you: you'll get to spend the whole weekend with a big, handsome man!

I told her it wasn't funny. I hung up and put the phone down on the bed.

I was hurt by her teasing, both by making me jealous about her sexual attraction to John and hurt by her teasing that I was attracted him, too (am I? I quickly dismissed it). I was resentful. She was stuck on the east coast and our weekend plans kept getting smaller and smaller. I felt sorry for myself. I felt rejected by Sarah.

I went back out to the kitchen to make something for dinner. John was standing in the living room in front of the French doors that open onto the balcony. He was looking out over the grey ocean and talking on the phone in a formal voice. Obviously a business call. He was firmly instructing some subordinate, asking pointed and direct questions about deadlines and deliverables. He was wearing a t-shirt and loose sweatpants, the fabric draping over his body, a clear outline of a prominent cock.

Oh my god. He was a big man and he had a big cock. I remembered his Instagram photos: fit, bare torso, strong arms. I was fascinated - he was simply so much bigger than me in every way, his cock so much bigger than anything I'd ever seen outside of porn. I couldn't stop myself from stealing sideways glances, eyes down. He was so masculine! An athlete's body. Swimming, probably plays basketball.

He was half turned towards me. I looked up and caught his eye - a small smile even as he was talking to whoever was on the other end. Did he just catch me looking at him?

John ended his call and came into the kitchen and made small talk. He asked about Sarah. He was actually really nice, a good guest and good company. He asked me lots of questions about myself and made me feel interesting. I was flattered by his attention. It was disarming and I ended up oversharing my disappointment about the weekend, about Sarah. I was suddenly aware of talking too much. I felt vulnerable again and started fumbling awkwardly. I made my excuses and said I was probably going to go to bed early, retreating again and taking my plate with me to the bedroom.