Unrelenting

I leaned closer to her across the table. "Then is there anything special that your husband does for you, something that perhaps I could try with my wife?"

She reddened again, but she didn't object because she wanted to help me. "No, it's pretty much the same thing with us every time." Then, perhaps feeling that she'd said something negative about her marriage, she quickly added, "But I still really enjoy it." Then she blushed again as she realized what she was saying.

"Well, does he try different positions or special techniques during foreplay?" I pressed her.

"No," she said, "we just stick with the standard . . . you know, like we've always done." When I didn't respond, she went on, "I mean, I wouldn't mind trying something new, but I guess we're just not that adventurous."

She wouldn't look at me, but I thought the pulse at the base of her throat had quickened just a little from the mental pictures our conversation was prompting. I felt I could work on that.

"I've tried everything I can think of," I went on, "taking her from behind, having her on top, you name it. I've given her back rubs and oral sex for hours, but nothing seems to turn her on," I lamented.

As she listened to me describing my efforts, her eyes got a faraway look, and I could tell she was picturing the things I was describing. "We've never really tried any of those things" she replied. "My husband comes from a pretty strict upbringing, and he isn't very interested in all that exotic stuff."

I was amused at her naivete, but I kept it to myself. "Well, I'm at my wits' end," I told her sadly. "I've even read some of those magazine articles about how to drive your woman wild, but nothing works with her. I thought every woman wanted to be pampered and teased and seduced, but not her."

"Well I know I would," she said consolingly, and then blushed for the third time at her unguarded admission.

I gently squeezed her hand. "You've really encouraged me, Lori. After talking with you, I'm going to continue my efforts. I'm sure I can find some way to rekindle the passion in our marriage."

Lori was relieved that I had shifted the focus away from her, and even more gratified that she had encouraged me. Any unease she might have felt about the somewhat intimate nature of our conversation was forgotten in the afterglow of having helped a friend. And, I hoped, another kind of glow would remain with her as she remembered some of the images I'd painted for her.

The ride back from lunch was uneventful, but before I let her out of the car, I took her hand again and told her, "Thanks so much for coming with me. It really helps to have a friend I can share things with." To my delight, she actually leaned over and kissed me on the cheek. "I'm so glad I could help," she told me sincerely. As I walked with her into the building, mentally I was rubbing my hands in glee: things were progressing nicely.

Unfortunately, I couldn't say the same for the big state contract. The deadline for the RFP was fast approaching, and despite working every channel and exploring every inroad I had in the Transportation Department, I had yet to come up with any way we might gain the advantage in the bidding process. When the boss called me into his office for a progress report, I was forced to confess my lack of success.

"Listen, Larry," he growled at me, "this will be the biggest contract we'll have a shot at for the next three years. It's going to be a long dry spell if we don't get it."

"Don't worry," I told him, with far more confidence than I actually felt, "we'll get it."

"We'd better," he said menacingly, "or there'll have to be some pretty drastic cutbacks around here."

I got the hint. I went back to my team and urged them to redouble their efforts. There had to be some way to get the upper hand on the contract.

The next Monday I sent Lori an email. "Any chance we could have lunch again this week? I need some more advice." I was delighted when she replied almost immediately, "I could do it today, if you'd like." I like it when a woman is eager.

I took her back to the same bistro where we'd gone the last time because I wanted her to feel comfortable being on familiar ground. But this time when we had placed our orders, I asked the waitress to bring us two glasses of wine. Lori looked at me with a smile. "Are we drinking to your success?" she asked playfully. I gave her a sour look. "No, I'm drinking to forget."

Instantly her expression turned to concern. "Oh, no, Larry, what happened?"

"I'll tell you in a second," I told her. "First let me have some of this." I took a big sip of wine, and she automatically did the same.

"I decided to go all out last Saturday," I told Lori, "so while my wife was out shopping, I got everything ready. I put a bottle of her favorite wine in an ice bucket, I drew her a hot bath and put bath oils in it, and I laid a clean sheet on top of the bed. I even sprayed a little perfume on it. When she got home, I led her upstairs into the master bathroom, undressed her and helped her into the tub. Then I poured her a glass of wine, and while she drank it I washed her back."

"When she had finished bathing and drained her glass of wine, I wrapped her in a big fluffy towel and led her to the bed. Then I gave her a massage using scented oil. And when I had finished that, I began to kiss her, starting at her ankles and working my way up."

The whole scenario I was describing was copied almost word for word from a romance novel an old girlfriend had left in my dorm room back in college, I had read it while waiting for a booty call to arrive, but, of course, Lori didn't know that. As I had been spinning my erotic little tale, she seemed to be holding her breath, picturing the action in her mind.

"And then do you know what happened?" I asked. Lori just shook her head, clearly eager to hear. "She looked up at me and asked how much longer I was going to take, because she was getting hungry!"

My shoulders slumped and my head sank in despair as I spat out the words. Immediately, Lori shifted to the chair beside me and put her arm around my shoulders, trying to comfort me. "I just can't believe that," she said sympathetically. "You've just been describing every woman's ultimate fantasy, and she blows it off like an annoyance!"

I looked up into the face that was so close to me, much closer than it had ever been before. "Thank you, Lori. I think I'd go crazy if I didn't have someone to share this with."

She continued to hover over me, concerned about my situation. I was enjoying the increased level of intimacy, but I knew that in a minute or two she would feel the need to pull back and re-establish a more appropriate relationship. Rather than let her come to that point, I reached up and gripped her arms, gently pushing her away from me.

"Now you know why I wanted to see you today," I told her, "and now you can understand why I'd rather not talk about my wife any further. What I'd like to do now is talk about you."

"What about me?" she asked, startled.

"You've become very special to me over the last month or so, Lori, and the last time we talked, I was concerned because I thought I heard some warning signs in your marriage too."

"What do you mean?" she said quickly. "I never said anything like that."

I gave her a gentle smile. "No, not in so many words, but it was easy to read between the lines. For example, I'm sure your husband loved you deeply when you got married, but it sounds to me now as though he's putting his work before you in terms of what's more important in his life. What about the overtime hours he spends away from home working, and how he took you away from your family and friends for the sake of his job?"

She began to deny my characterization of her marriage, but I cut her off. "And another thing: it sounds to me like he's not very attentive to you and your needs. I know you're adventuresome and love to try new things. It sounds to me like he just wants to keep to the same old routine. "

I lowered my voice so that she needed to lean toward me to hear me.

"You're also a passionate woman whose sex life has become predictable and boring. You'd like to be a little more adventurous, to get your freak on every now and then, but he's content to remain in the same old rut."

She was both flustered and defensive now. "No, it's not like that at all. I mean, not really. I mean, every marriage gets old after a while; the honeymoon can't last forever. But that doesn't mean he doesn't love me!"

"Of course he does," I soothed, "but that's no reason you have to come second all the time. You're sensitive to his needs and desires -- he should be sensitive to yours as well. You need to assert yourself a little: ask him for the things you want. And he should be more responsive to your needs."

I could barely prevent myself from laughing as I said that. I could just imagine how it would be received if little Mrs. Meek-and-Mild suddenly began making demands for some strange shit in the bedroom. If I'd read the situation right, there were going to be some tense times in the Jones household.

Lori didn't say much the rest of the lunch, and I figured she was thinking about what I'd said and comparing my take on her marriage with her own view. It's called sowing doubts, people.

On the way back to the office, I made it a point to thank her again for being such a good listener. "You've become very special to me," I told her again. "If I didn't have you to talk to, I think I would have gone crazy. You've helped me so much." When I parked, I repeated my thanks and then quickly leaned over and gave her a quick peck on the lips. Once again she was startled, but once again it was apparent that she liked my boldness.

Once I got back to my office, I closed the door to block out the noise and sat back to assess where I stood. It had taken two full months, but I felt I'd made a tremendous amount of progress. You probably wouldn't agree, because I hadn't even kissed the chick except for my friendly little peck just now. But you'd be wrong, and here's why. First, I'd managed to insinuate myself into her life, and had done it so slowly that it had all seemed innocent and unthreatening to her. Second, I'd managed to accustom her to slipping away from the office and get her comfortable being alone with me. Third, I'd established a level of intimacy between the two of us, not only sharing details of our marriages (hers real, mine fictional) but introducing the tricky subject of sex. In the process, I felt certain that I'd painted some erotic scenes and unearthed some vague longings that had to be working in the back of her mind. Finally, I'd built a bond between us based on the shared insensitivities of our respective spouses. I was just about ready to pounce.

But first I had more important matters to which to attend, namely the state's RFP. There was only a week to go before the contract would be awarded. Our proposal had been submitted a week ago. All of us had been over every detail repeatedly, and despite our best efforts, we felt pretty certain that our bid would come in within a few dollars of our closest competitor. That meant we weren't bringing anything special to the table, giving the Transportation Commission no obvious reason why it should pick our bid over the competition's. With the stakes so high, even odds just weren't good enough. It was time to take a chance.

I walked into the boss's office and closed the door behind me. "I think I know how we can guarantee the big contract with the state, but I don't know if you'll agree with what I'm about to propose."

He just looked at me expectantly.

"The way I read it, the bids are all going to come in basically equal, so the only way we can be sure to win is if we have an advocate on the court. I think we can get the Director of Civil Engineering to back us, but we'll have to put him on the payroll to get him."

"Are you talking about bribing a state official?" he asked me bluntly.

"That's exactly what I'm proposing. It's the only way to be sure."

He sat there in silence for a minute, scratching his chin absently. "Do you think he'd take it?" he asked.

I knew I had him. "The guy is living in a house he can't afford and trying to send two kids to private school. If we sweeten the pot enough, he'll definitely take it."

He stood up and began to walk back and forth behind his desk. "We've already cut our margins on the bid to the bone. How are we gonna make any profit on the deal if we have to give this guy a kickback?"

I grinned at him. "Simple: we just go phantom for whatever it takes to buy him."

He thought a few seconds more and then grinned back at me. "I always knew you were a smart kid, Larry. Do it."

In our industry, the term "phantoms" essentially means a short shipment. For example we might only install ninety-five signs but bill the customer for a hundred. The savings on the phantom signs would be enough to cover the "commission" I'd just proposed we pay the director. And there was little risk of getting caught. It would be easy to spot the shortage if we were shipping a fixed amount to a warehouse, but verifying the number of signs installed all around the state would be a daunting challenge even if somebody became suspicious.

That afternoon, I drove over to the Little League field. The game was already under way when I climbed up the bleachers and sat down next to the director. "Who's winning?" I asked. "My son's team is behind," he told me ruefully.

"No," I said, "if things go the right way next week, you're son is going to be a big winner."

He looked at me cautiously. I reached over and took the printed team roster out of his hands, scribbled a four-digit number on it and passed it back to him. Once he'd had a chance to look at it, I took it out of his hands. Under the number I wrote "per month" and handed it back to him. His eyes widened.

I winked at him and said, "With a little teamwork on your part, I think we can both be winners." As I stood up to leave, there was a crack of the bat from the field. He glanced out at the action, and then looked back at me with a smile on his face. "I think our team's going to do alright this year," he said.

There were a lot of nervous faces the morning that the contract award was announced, but mine wasn't one of them. When the cheers rang out around the office, I just stood to one side with a satisfied smile and let everyone else celebrate. The boss came over and shook my hand fervently. "You came through for us, Larry. I won't forget this."

Then he turned to the rest of the crowd. "Listen, everyone, you all know how big a win this is for us. To celebrate, I'm taking everyone to dinner tonight at the Ritz-Carlton. Bring your spouse or 'significant other.' The last few weeks have been a real pressure cooker; tonight's the night we can all let off a little steam."

As the cheers and applause rang out again, I made my way to Lori's cubicle. She came around her desk and gave me a little hug. "Congratulations, Larry, I'm so happy for you."

"Thanks, Lori, but it was team effort," I said with false modesty. Then I added, "I hope you and your hubby are planning to come to the celebration the boss is throwing tonight."

Her face fell. "We won't be able to come," she said. "He's out of town on business, so I'll just have to pass."

Instantly I knew I had a chance to score twice in the same day. "What a coincidence: my wife is out of town too. But there's no reason for the both of us to sit around home tonight. Let's go celebrate with everyone else. Come on – it would mean a lot to me."

She hesitated a second, and then smiled at me. "I guess that would be OK. It would be fun to get out of the house."

"Perfect," I said. "I'll see you tonight."

One of the secrets to success in hunting is to know when to make your move. I'd stalked her for a long time; tonight she would be alone and vulnerable. It was time to move in for the kill. When I got back to my office, I made a quick call to the Ritz-Carlton to reserve a penthouse room for the night.

The celebration that evening was pretty rowdy. The Ritz-Carlton had managed to put us all in a separate room, which was fortunate because we were noisy and excited, not to mention pretty loose from the wine that flowed freely during dinner. After a number of toasts and a speech by the boss that went on a little too long, the party finally began to wind down.

It looked to me like there were going to be a lot of aching heads at work the next day, but I had purposefully restrained myself because I wanted to be sharp. However, I'd made sure that Lori's glass stayed full.

I walked around to Lori's side and took her hand. "Come with me," I said assertively, and she meekly followed me into the lounge. "I'm not ready to call it a night yet," I told her, and ordered liqueurs for us. After they'd arrived and she'd sipped most of hers, I pulled her to her feet and led her to the dance floor, where a jazz trio was playing. As we swayed together to the music, I was careful not to make any overt moves that might put her on her guard, but I did pull her to me closely enough to feel her body against mine. I knew she had to feel my erection, but she didn't pull back, which increased my optimism. She had accepted each new level of intimacy without protest, and I felt certain she was ready for the killing stroke.

When the dance ended, I took her by the hand and once again said, "Come with me." She dutifully followed as I led her out of the lounge and to the elevator. Once we were rising, she looked at me in confusion and asked, "Where are we going?"

"There's something in my room I want to show you," I told her. "Oh," was all she said. I think she was a little tipsy.

When we reached the top floor, I led her to the room and used the card key to open the door. Once inside the roomI didn't bother to turn on a lamp, so the only illumination was from the light coming in through the window. "It's so pretty up here that I wanted you to see it," I told her, and she obediently followed as I led her to the window.

We gazed out silently; then I took her by the shoulders and turned her to face me. "And I also wanted to see your beauty by starlight," I said. She looked at me with wide eyes. I reached my hand to out to touch her face and brush a lock of her hair behind her ear. Then I slipped my fingers behind her neck and slowly pulled her face towards mine. She instinctively raised her hands to my chest to ward me off, but I ignored her halfhearted efforts and kissed her, gently at first, then using my tongue to penetrate her lips and explore her mouth.

Before she could give any further resistance, I slid my mouth along her jaw line and began to kiss her ear and neck. At the same time I slid my arms around her and pulled her body tightly to mine. Instinctively, she arched her neck to allow my lips and tongue to play, and I heard her breathing accelerate. But then some part of her brain tried to regain control over her rapidly heating libido, and she gasped, "I shouldn't be doing this. I'm married."

"So am I," I whispered, "but tonight none of that matters. You know how we feel about each other, and tonight may be our only chance."

With that, I pulled her to me and began to kiss her again. At the same time, I ran my right hand up over her ribcage until I was caressing her breast. Even through her dress and her bra, I could feel her heart pounding. When I felt her hands slide around my back to hold me to her, I knew that I had her.

Quickly I undid her dress and slid it off her shoulders, kissing them and murmuring compliments to her. Her head fell back as though she were swooning, and I gathered her in my arms and laid her back on the bed with her legs hanging over the side. Fortunately, her bra opened in the front, and once I'd unclasped it, I used my mouth and tongue to tease her nipples while I used my hands to shed my coat, tie and shirt. Then I began to kiss my way down her flat belly, heading for her navel. At the same time I managed to kick off my shoes and undo my pants.