[To those of you who have not yet read the stories "First Position", "After Dinner Mint", and "My Aching Feet", Sean is a successful business owner who was introduced to Cynthia (real name Sheila) as a potential client for her BDSM business. He reversed roles on her and released some of her pent up whatever. Sheila's childhood acquaintance (dancers in the same elite dance school), Francine Martel was also a HS friend of Sean's. She fills in some details to both parties.]
* * * * *
I was working in my office Friday afternoon when the courier arrived. Joyce works only half day Fridays, so I signed for it. I was glad I did. Enclosed were a set of disclosure documents, a contract, and a picture. I recognized the picture immediately, though there was no face in the photo. It was Cynthia, no, Sheila. I would have to settle that point with her. I had to admit that it was provocative.
The picture was of a woman, well built, very well in fact, trim, athletic standing against a wall. She wore only stockings and one high heeled shoe. Her long hair hung down to partially obscure her excellent breasts, which were forced forward by the fact that her arms were bound behind her at the elbow. A truly excellent black pump supported one leg--the other pump was lying in the photo just to the right of the woman--while the other leg, flexed slightly at the knee, was point toed to the ground. The tension from the unbalanced support was clearly visible in the musculature.
I flipped the photo over to see the photographer, but there were no credits. Instead I found a handwritten note, which read, "Hope to see more of you soon." It was signed SS. There was a double meaning there. Knowing her even slightly as I did, I was sure both meanings applied. The signature solved my earlier problem; I would call her Sheila. I felt honored. I was fairly certain few if any of her clients were allowed to do so.
The obvious question--who had taken the photo--was answered by the disclosure documents. There was a surveillance system in the studio. Tapes remained the property of the management, but still frames could be purchased with proper notice. This one appeared to be gratis. Excellent work too. Especially from videotape. I might consider her for my next layout shoot. She might find the change stimulating.
I sat back in my chair and looked at the picture again. Little details came to me the second time through. She had no bikini lines. Either she did not sunbathe or she tanned in the nude. My guess would be naturally dark skin. She cropped her pubic hair. That would be a dancers habit. She was dewing. Rewind. She had dew on her pubic hair. Enough to be visible at call it, 30 feet. And I left her like that. Way to go stud. Get a girl hot and leave her standing there. If my brains were dynamite…
Lets see. I had given her card to Franki. I was not going to call Chuck. Where oh where has your phone number gone. Ah letterhead. Answering service. Even better. I left a message that I would be at the same restaurant we had been introduced on Monday at 1:00. I mentioned the contract. If she showed or called…
The weekend dragged like few I had had. I could not seem to keep my mind on work, the game on TV, the game at the club, anything. Monday I set up a status meeting with Chuck. He seemed eager to meet. I could guess why.
Lunch was fun. Sheila came by at the soup course. We both scared the shit out of Chuck, who had hoped to gloat. We made a date for dinner and symphony. Poor Chuck was shocked. I swear he never thought of Sheila as a woman. I shudder to think what did go on between those car door ears of his.
With things settled a little I was able to put in some profitable time at the office. So much to do, so little time. Quite suddenly it was 5:00 on Tuesday, and I had a dinner date. It would not do to be late, so I settled for a splash and shave before changing. Ramone's is not the kind of place you go underdressed. Joyce looked me over while she tied my bow. She never says much, which is one reason she works for me, but I could see something in her eyes. She gave me a "Hope she's worth it." as I left the office.
She was at the bar. It gave me a chance to admire her back, which her dress showed very well. It also gave her a chance to freeze a guys balls with his drink. I decided to play a game of pick up. I cued the bartender.
"Give me a scotch and soda and whatever the lady at the end of the bar is having."
"It's your life buddy, but she's only been here 5 minutes and she's buried three so far."
"Five whole minutes?"
"Might be less." That was reassuring.
"Bring them anyway."
I carried the drinks over to her end of the bar.
"Why Sheila Schwartz, it's been…hours since I saw you." If she was surprised by her name, she didn't show it.
"Well Clarance Richards, it HAS been a while." Ouch. First point to her.
"I thought I would come over and get you drunk so I could have my way with you." Evil leer.
"Why Mr Richards." Scarlet O'Hara. "All that trouble for little old me?"
"Why, tis no trouble at all my dear." Foghorn Leghorn.
" I have always depended on the kindness of strangers." Bette Davis?
"Watson, to the hunt." I offered my arm, which she took. I was amused to see a couple of shocked expressions around the room, including the bartender. I love a good straight line. As we left the room I blew them all a kiss. Out in the hallway, Sheila was laughing so hard she had to stop and catch her breath. I picked up her hand and kissed it.
"Its good to see you laugh. You were so serious last week." This seemed to shock her, then she let out squeal of laughter. Garbo laughs. I would have to dig up my copy of "Ninotchka."
"Oh Sean, you are the first person to MAKE me laugh in, good heavens, years."
"Mother thought I would turn out to be good for something. She had hoped it was Law or Medicine. Still this has its rewards." She thought that was funny too.
***
Dinner was not much. The first half of the concert was no better. But when ours eyes met over plastic cups of cheap white wine, during intermission, I saw complex things churning there. Then things got better. The Prokofiev 2nd, Immanuel Axe at piano, is exhilarating. Before intermission she had kept her hands to herself. When the final performance started, she put her hand on my knee. During the bouncing turbulent allegro, her hand patted time. During the short slow passage it gripped my knee firmly. During the sweeping finale it had a death grip. Julia Roberts at the opera. This girl loved music.
When the piece had finished, we had some time to let the crowd thin, so I brought up Francine.
"I met an old colleague of yours."
"I know. She called."
"Francine and I go back to, what, 10 years old. I never dated her. I don't think anyone did. No time."
"I remember."
"There was a picture of the two of you. You had to be about 15 at the time. She said you were very talented, 'unreachable stretches and impossible holds'. Something like that. She was favorably impressed, and I give her opinion a fair amount of weight."
She dimpled, and then looked sad. I guess dreams die hard. "We were Herr Gruber's star pupils. About a year after that picture, he kicked me out. A kindness he said."
