"Good boy," she patted me on the behind. I only groaned quietly in frustration. "Maybe I'll allow you a little release soon if you keep it up."
*
When I finally returned to the small apartment I shared with two other guys, in an apartment complex just outside the beltway in the northern suburbs by Lutherville, I pretty much collapsed as soon as I was inside the door. In fact, the rest of the weekend I entered a kind of hibernation state - my body shutting down after such an intense few days.
I had supper on the Sunday with Robin - who'd cooked a mass of steaming-hot pasta, and as he often did, offered me some when he saw I was in for the evening. A plate full of carbs was just what I needed.
"How's it going with that babe from work?" he asked me while doling out spoonfuls of creamy carbonara.
I was startled a moment, before remembering smatterings of our conversation from the nightclub bar. I said: "I don't know. It's complicated."
"Show me a girl who's not," he said, "and I'll tell you she's a dude in a wig."
We slumped down in front of the TV, and I could tell he wanted more from me than just 'it's complicated'. I sighed, knowing it was probably good to talk. "I think I've forgotten how to date people. You know, more than one night stands."
"So it's serious, then?" His eyes seemed to light up. I'd never known Robin to be such one for gossip.
"I'm not sure. I mean… we're dating, I guess. I guess I really like her…"
Robin chuckled, "Who is this mysterious girl, and what's she done with the real Aiden Jones?"
Again, I felt the need to ask Robin his thoughts on my situation, but how the hell could I tell him what went on, and leave myself with any shred of dignity?
I said: "We're dating… I guess… but I guess she's still dating this other guy at the moment, as well."
Robin nodded sagely. He said: "People do that, you know? You have been out of the dating game a while. I guess you've been dating her, what, a few weeks?"
"I don't know. Something like that."
"That's like a lifetime to you, my man," he leaned over and patted my shoulders. "Welcome back to reality - it's still early days. Your urban female - they like to date you a while, maybe see other guys, keep their options open. Then if you're still going a while, you can talk about exclusivity."
I nodded. It was early days, sure. But most girls wouldn't subject their dates to watching their other dates pound them into submission right in front of them.
I was just a mass of confusion. Somehow, underneath the layer of fear and pain, there had been something deeply thrilling about seeing my Zoey engaging in such depraved coupling with that brute. I couldn't explain it, even to myself. Seeing her take such pleasure in having me watching her have sex. Knowing that a large part of her orgasm came from having me watching her.
"It's complicated," Robin said. "Dating's complicated - period."
"Why d'you think I stuck to one night stands so long?" I said.
"But you're sleeping with her? Going all the way?"
"Well no, I guess not quite all the way."
He nodded. "A full Clinton, though, certainly," and I thought he had some kind of insight before remembering I'd lied to him that night in the club bar, saying she'd given me a blow job at work. "So I guess if she's dating someone else at the same time, you have to assume she's treating you equally…"
"Maybe," I said, hoping he wasn't going to somehow read my mind and see images there of Brandon shoving his fat cock into the object of my affection right in front of me.
"Well, I guess you don't want to speculate to that level of detail. But some people don't see that as sex nowadays - again, blame Clinton." Robin shrugged. "I think when you do get a home run, you guys need to have that little chat about exclusivity."
I nodded, but knew full well that in this relationship, it wasn't really up to me.
Somehow, a dark part of me found that little idea a little exciting - though I still had no idea why.
Chapter Sixteen
When I slept, I dreamed of Zoey Schoenberg, bossing me around, stepping on me, ordering me to serve her. It was no wonder I awoke on Monday morning to find that I'd had yet another incident. Well, it was some kind of release - and it did comply with my no touching rule.
Nevertheless, it did worry me as I arrived nice and early at the office that morning. One of these days, she'd decide to grant my dearest wish of full sexual release, and she'd know full well there wasn't as much come inside me as there should have been.
Yet there seemed to be no opportunity for me to tell her what was happening in my sleep.
During the day at the office, I was able to ignore my concerns for the most part, and business continued as well as it had done since my new strategy for success had kicked in. There was plenty to keep me occupied managing the team. Then at the end of the afternoon, as I was already beginning to get hopeful again that I might be given the opportunity to serve my boss sexually once more, I received a short but devastating email from her.