In the dark, cramped control room James sat transfixed. His eyes were not on the extravagant stage show visible just through the window in the auditorium. Instead they were captivated by Michelle as she rocked back in forth in her high stool, talking to herself and hovering like a spider over the control panel.
“Yes … Yes … Yes … and, and, and … now. And now! And NOW! … okay, okay, okay, easyeasyeasy … slowly, slowly … andsneakitup andup andup…” Her words were all running together and James couldn’t even decipher some of them – it was as if Michelle was in a trance or on some drug as she punched buttons, flipped toggle switches and slid slide-switches up and down, always moving, rocking to the heavy beat of the music that was leaking into the control room from the show outside.
It was all having its effect. Magical things were happening in the auditorium outside. And Michelle was making them happen. Music, laser beams, projected images and strobe lights. It was like a great rock-and-roll concert show, though in fact it was the finale of the opening night event of a computer company sales conference. James had seen the show at least a dozen times the previous two days during rehearsals from outside so he knew exactly what was going on. But even if he hadn’t seen it, Michelle’s show in the control room still would have won the competition for his attention. He was embarrassed to note that watching her gyrations and thrusting hips had even given him a bit of an erection.
Finally the music and the show reached its wild crescendoed conclusion and Michelle flicked the final switches that turned spotlights on the CEO and the band at the side of the stage and she slumped forward. Her arms were splayed out supporting her as she leaned just over the board with her head hanging down almost touching the control panel. She was breathing heavily and she just stayed there like that for a few seconds listening to the audience cheering the show.
And then she raised her head a bit and turned it sideways to James. She was looking in his direction, but her eyes seemed unfocused.
“Was that a great show, or what?!”
“Yes, it was. Great,” James answered wondering if she knew which show he had been watching.
“Thanks. I don’t mean for the compliment – thanks for the help. Houselights.”
“What?”
“Houselights. Turn on the houselights. Just slide them up slowly. Yeah, like that. Good. Now we’ll give these people a chance to clear out of the place, then we’ll clear out and get ready for cocktails and dinner. Will you be my date? I mean after I take a shower – God, look at me.” Michelle held out the sides of the loose white tee-shirt she was wearing. The words “Go for it!” were on the front and were taut against her bra, the outline of which James could see as Michelle pulled the sides tight.
“I am dripping.”
* * *
James had been working for Michelle for almost a month now and he had been impressed with how good she was as a producer for the Shows and Exhibits division of the communications company where he worked. He had joined the company out of college and was in the midst of a training program that had him serving several months in each of about six different departments during his first year.
He had to admit that of the three departments he had been in so far this was by far the most interesting. He also had to admit he had never seen Michelle like he had in that control room. In the time he had worked with her she had seemed very organized, controlled and buttoned-down. And until a half hour ago he never would have begun to think of her in a sexual way. Not that she wasn’t attractive, she was. She had a slim, athletic body and a very pretty freckled face with short-cropped reddish-blonde hair. But she was twenty-some years older than he was. And at six feet, she was also taller by an inch. Even more, when she wore heels like she was this evening.
At dinner, Michelle and James sat together at a table with a few musicians and other members of the crew. Michelle accepted congratulations on the success of the show and passed out compliments and thanks. And even though she reminded everyone that they still had the big closing meeting in three days and not to get complacent, it was clear that she regarded the success of today’s show as worthy of a little celebrating if only for tonight.
When the dinner was breaking up she asked James if he could help her with a bunch of video tapes and equipment that had to be picked up at the auditorium and taken to the storage trailer. “Bring along a couple of coffee cups too.”
James looked at her questioningly. Looking around to see that no one was watching, she opened her shoulder bag for James to see that she had requisitioned a bottle of red wine. James smiled and picked up a couple of cups.
“Mind if I stop by my room on the way there?” he asked as they were walking down the path to the auditorium building.
“Sure. Why?”
“I thought I might get something to smoke.”
“I didn’t know you smoked, James.”
“Um, this isn’t tobacco. Is that okay?”
Michelle laughed. “I haven’t had pot in probably ten years. Go get it, it’ll be fun.”
At the auditorium, Michelle, who was the slightest bit tipsy, had difficulty getting the door to unlock. Finally James handled it for her. They went inside and gathered up what they had to take back to the trailer and stacked it by the door. Then they went to the stage where they had put the bottle of wine and the coffee cups. Michelle handed James a corkscrew. “Will you do the honors, James?”
He started opening the bottle. “It did go well, didn’t it,” said Michelle looking around the stage where it had all taken place.
“Yeah, it was fabulous. And you could tell the crowd was into it. But I have to admit, I was watching you during the whole last five minutes or so. That was quite a show too.”
Michelle looked at him sideways. They were sitting side by side on the lip of the stage with the wine bottle between them. “What do you mean?” she asked.
“I mean you really get, I don’t know … into it, I guess. I mean you were really rockin’.”
Michelle laughed. “Yeah, I guess I do get sort of very focused. When it gets to the finale, well, you know, it’s all about timing and at the end it gets … intense.”
“I’ll say. It’s like you’re one of those holy rollers in some kind of religious trance. That’s not quite right. I know it’s like you’re having—” He stopped his thought, paused and then changed gears, “Well, it’s … well, like you said, pretty intense.”
“Wait a minute, James. You don’t get off that easy. What was it you were going to say? Come on, out with it.”
James was silent for a moment and then looked at Michelle, kind of sheepishly. “I was going to say that it was kind of like you were having sex and really trying to get yourself off.”
“That’s what I thought you were going to say.” Michelle laughed and added, “And you know, there are a lot of similarities.”
“Yeah, right,” said James dismissing the notion.
“No really.” Michelle twisted to face James. She hiked her skirt up and sat cross-legged on the stage, giving James a flashing glimpse of pantyhose and inner thigh. But he consciously kept his eyes on her face.
“When I start a project,” she said, “there’s this gradually-building sense of pace that starts during the planning and the preparations. Then as it gets closer to the show, there’s a steady build up of pressure and tension. When you actually get to the show, the tension builds and builds and builds almost unbearably. And when you finally pull it off, it’s like you go over the top. Then I get this big body-shaking release – an overwhelming outpouring of relief and triumph. I’m totally, totally drained and blissful.”
“Wow,” said James under his breath.
“Now, I don’t pretend to know what sex is like for a twenty-year old boy—”
“Twenty-two.”
“Right – twenty-two. But the point is, I don’t know what it’s like for you, but, for me, what I just described sounds very much like sex.”
