CHAPTER 10
Amelia
One week later
He teases me about my first orgasm nearly making me unconscious, but he’s got a point. Being able to finally achieve orgasm opened the floodgates. I released all that pent up energy for the first time and was it a doozy.
I slide open my desk drawer and look at the pictures we snapped together in one of those picture booths. It’s a roll of three and we are having the time of our lives in the photos. We’re playful, serious, and making funny faces as we alternate expressions from photo to photo. It makes me smile every time.
“Miss Perkins, I finished those reports.”
I look up, sliding the drawer back in nonchalantly.
“Thank you, Doug” I say, extending my hand to receive them.
He walks away back to his cubicle and I place his work on the stack of things to go over before I leave today.
My new role carries a lot more responsibility, but I’m enjoying it immensely. Carson’s words a week ago had rung true. He’s challenging me, pushing me, and it’s bringing out the best in me, and not only at work.
That first orgasm was better than losing my virginity. As far as I’m concerned I might as well have been a virgin, especially when comparing anyone else’s so called efforts to please me to the way he came into my life. My body, and my mind, finally found a guy who could satisfy me in every way. Being able to make me feel the way he did made me trust him completely, and I was able to open up and explore everything he, or I, could imagine.
Every night we had dinner in some fancy restaurant in the city. The waiters seemed to all know him by name, and the food was easily the best I had ever tasted.
What was also fun was that we were sneaking around. When we went out to eat, we entered through the back door. The next mornings when I woke up at his place, he had his driver take me to work, and he coordinated it so we wouldn’t arrive at the same time.
As much as I wanted to step out in public with him, when he was ready, I knew we couldn’t now. He was trying to avoid the paparazzi for his own sake, and he was equally focused on doing so for mine.
He didn’t want to undermine my credibility or newfound authority at work. Not only that he had a job to do at my company, and I had to remind myself of that.
We didn’t talk about work after hours, but I had the feeling he was lining up something big. At some point there would be a huge wave of layoffs or firings. The only question was when. I wasn’t looking forward to it, and it didn’t seem he was either.
When I first met him I saw him as a heartless guy, but the more I got to know him the more I realized I was wrong. I wasn’t sure if the change had anything to do with me, but I sure hoped so. Just as much as he wanted to help me grow, I wanted to help him grow too.
He may have been a lot older and wiser than me in many ways, but he didn’t seem very empathetic in a lot of other ways. Sure, he saved my job, but I truly did seem to be the exception to the rule.
On some of the nights we laid in bed I came to realize he was more of a numbers guy than a people guy. He was good with people, but he really excelled with numbers. I wasn’t out to change him, but I was hoping that being around me might soften him up a little…make him see things from other people’s points of view, and not strictly judge people as numbers on a spreadsheet based on their productivity.
But he definitely never treated me that way. He was the most attentive person I ever met, in or out of the bedroom.
There were nights I would just talk and talk and talk, and he let me continue without ever saying a single word. It was therapeutic for me. I talked about my childhood a little, but mostly just talking about things that happened to me during the day and other stuff that probably didn’t even need to be said, but sure felt good to get off my chest.
I didn’t realize how much I had bottled up inside, just as much as I didn’t know how amazing it felt to finally have someone I could trust completely and share all these thoughts with.
I slide my desk drawer open again and look at those pictures. I smile and think back to that night.
When we exited the picture booth there was an older lady who said, “You two kids sure do make a great couple.” I could see her squeeze her husband’s hand after she spoke and I knew that’s just how I wanted to be someday. Well past eighty and still very much in love. And she was right. We do make a great couple. And I was right too. I wanted to still be in love in my twilight years. Still, because it was plain to see I was in love now.