Once Madilyn leaves, I run my fingers under my nose. They’re still wet with her juices, and I can smell the sweet, expectant scent.
I can’t help but taste her juices on my finger. Delicious. Just like she would be if she had played along better. I would be eating her up right now and she would love it.
The game we had played was an easy win for me, and that’s why I had suggested it. I was almost sure she would be wearing red panties.
Madilyn St. Clair is someone who cares about image and prestige, but she has a fucking naughty, adventurous streak she rarely wants to admit or indulge. She plays by the rules, although she secretly wants to rebel. So she wears conservative business suits with cute red panties underneath. I knew that about her before I really knew it.
If only I had followed all my rules, and had only played games I was sure I could win. Instead, I’d had to play games that took me in over my head. I only wanted to see and touch what I knew I could have, if I were only willing to give her more chances. But now, I find myself wanting more.
Enough, I tell myself. Time to get to work.
But I can’t concentrate. I do some mindless deposition preparation and then I scan the Internet for the latest news— just as a distraction.
Finally, eleven a.m. arrives. Over lunch, I usually run with a small group of other guys at the firm. A few partners, an associate named Matt to whom I give quite a few projects, and Mike, the firm’s IT guy.
But today, I go to the firm’s gym earlier than usual, before the time that we usually meet up to run. I change into my running clothes and then decide to take a loop around Tingley Beach instead of our group’s normal route to the Country Club and back.
I just want to be by myself. I need to clear my head, which has been torturing me almost as much as my cock, ever since Madilyn left my office this morning.
All my cock wanted to do was see and then enter her beautiful exposed pussy. I almost think she would have let me. Clearly apologetic— and clearly turned on— she’d let me play with her, slap her, tease her. And she’d clearly wanted more.
But I didn’t. I can’t.
I just wanted to show her who was in control. All that she could have had by playing by my rules.
My rules are in place for a very specific reason. I had to put them in place after everything I went through with my ex-wife.
My buddies tried to warn me about her, but I wouldn’t listen. I guess I had to find out the hard way how women can be so cruel and heartless.
“She’s just like your mother,” Ron would say to me, when I’d complain about whatever the latest thing was that my wife had said or done to me.
“I don’t want to talk about my mother,” I’d tell him.
But really, I didn’t want to talk about my wife.
I thought I’d come to terms with the kind of person my mother was and why. I’m a rational, analytical man, and if I can logically understand something, then I can deal with it.
My mother was the way she was because my father left her when I was a baby. She had a series of short- lasting relationships with other men, but I think she was always waiting for him to come back.
And in the meantime, she took her misery out on me. My father never came back. He never cared about her. Or me. It made sense to me that she saw me in him and wanted to get back at him by being cruel to me.
But my ex-wife had never made any sense to me, as much as I tried to figure her out. She seemed to enjoy being cold and calculating for no reason. Until it all ended and we finally got divorced.
So I started playing the field. And because it was a game I set up rules. To protect myself from any more cruel women wishing to play with my heart and jerk me around.
I no longer have a weak spot for women who treat me like crap. I make sure of it.
As I come around a bend near the duck pond, a little train is passing by, full of kids and their mothers. It’s a trolley- type train, made to look like a real one, that takes them around the zoo, botanical gardens, and Biopark.
A boy who looks to be about four years old waves at me and as he does, a small toy train— a miniature version of the one he is riding on— slips out of his hand. The look on his face changes from pure joy to sad frustration. He cries, pointing to the toy train on the ground but his mother looks ahead, oblivious to the fact that he had just dropped it out the window.
I pick up the toy train and run along after the real trolley. When I catch up to the boy he sticks his head out of the trolley window and stops crying. A glimmer of hope passes over his face— that perhaps his toy isn’t lost for good— and he smiles at me again, but more hesitantly than when he was gleefully waving at me.
I hand him his toy train and he grasps onto it. His big, excited grin re-appears.
He claps and says “Thank you!” in garbled child talk. His mom finally looks out at me and, realizing what had happened, smiles and thanks me as well.
I wave stupidly and turn back in the direction in which I had been running as the train and its young rider— now firmly grasping his toy— head out of sight.
I’m left with a feeling of emptiness. When I’m honest with myself, I know that although I have a successful career and more money than I ever thought was possible for one man to have, I realized a long time ago that I’m incapable of maintaining a solid relationship.
So I construct ones at work that are the best replacement I can think of. I make sure they suit my needs— and even the needs of the other party— without taking over too much of my life or leaving me open to mistreatment.
I usually take a long time to choose the associate who will play that role for however long it lasts, until we both move on to something new. I am rarely wrong. But this time, I was.
And now it is fucking with my head and making me re-think everything about my life and this “game” I thought I liked to play.
Sometimes, my newest choice resists a bit at first and I don’t mind that so much. I even like it since I like a challenge.
I thought I had struck gold with Madilyn, after she didn’t jump at my first command but she still seemed eager and ready to please. I thought she was the perfect mix of reluctant yet eager.
But I guess it was too good to be true. Even though I spent a lot of time and energy on Madilyn, I know I have to let her go. Cut my losses and move on. Just like I do in any other business or legal deal that turns sour.
I can’t give anyone the power to disobey my simple instructions. I know it’s a slippery slope and that next they’ll be playing with my head and my heart.
I don’t give anyone that opportunity. Especially not someone as unpredictable as Madilyn St. Clair, no matter how irresistible she might be.