Youre Going To Sleep With Me Tonight

"You're going to sleep with me tonight."

The words were raging like a wildfire through Mandy's brain.

It had been more than an hour since he had left the coffee shop, his parting statement crashing against her like a provocative, un-welcome declaration. She couldn't stop replaying it though, his smooth, refined voice consuming her. Her 5am shift as a coffee shop barista was not a mentally taxing one, but she was having a difficult time staying focused on anything, let alone work.

Mandy's workday had started bright and early like any other. She punched in on time to take her routine spot behind the counter; cheerfully greeting morning commuters, remembering the familiar faces while serving, cashiering and helping her coworkers with the myriad of hot, cold, blended and packaged beverages. It was often fast paced work, with grueling hours on her feet, but the schedule allowed her to make time for homework ahead of her evening online classes.

Overall, Mandy's job was working out fine, although she wished for more free time, even time with her on-again, off-again boyfriend. But that was the plight of any college kid who had to work on the side, she told herself. Mandy's parents provided what financial support they could, but as the oldest of four siblings, there was only so much to go around so she needed the additional income to cover her rent. The issue of paying down student loans was a future mountain to climb, one that she blocked out of her mind in the present. In that context, she was a diligent young woman who was well-received when she spoke up, but was usually content to keep her head down and get the work done. She considered herself private, although others thought her shy. Most days, she just felt over-committed; to school, to work, and to life.

She recognized him as soon as he entered the shop this morning. He was one of those regular customers who came in often enough to be familiar, but not enough to know by name. He was older, and handsome... very handsome, Mandy thought, and was happy to greet him as he ordered a large latte. His jeans and sports coat mirrored his usual attire.

Unlike past mornings he made intentional, extended eye contact, his dark brown eyes lingering as he smiled, and used her name as he swiped his card for payment. "Thanks Mandy. It's nice to see you again." Mandy felt flattered, as if he had picked her out of the entire world to flirt with her this morning.

She smiled and asked what name to put on his order. "Randall...just Randall," he answered. She thought it odd that he answered that way; it's not like they needed his full name for a beverage order, but she grinned back to him saying, "Well, ok then, JUST Randall, we'll have that right out for you." Then she wrote Just Randall using her best penmanship on the paper cup and passed it over to the coworker assigned that task this particular morning.

As she moved to greet the next customer she took every opportunity to look over his way, make eye contact and smile, which he reciprocated each time while he waited at the other end of the counter. Even though she was back ON at this point with her boyfriend, it felt good to be noticed by a nice looking man, especially one so polite and polished. Truth be told, she thought it was fun.

His latte was soon ready and her coworker called out the name on the cup, signaling the end of their flirty exchange across the shop. Mandy had just finished with the last customer in line as he picked up his beverage, read the "Just Randall" written on the side and veered her direction instead of walking to the exit. Grinning confidently, he leaned in across the counter, looked into Mandy's eyes, and spoke the words that she could not get out of head... "You're going to sleep with me tonight."

Then he turned and left.

Mandy was stunned. If he had still been standing in front of her she might have considered slapping him. Instead, she watched him exit the coffee shop and walk to his car, never looking back.

Despite being silently offended and overwhelmed, Mandy did her best to keep focused on her job. Fortunately, no one had noticed their exchange, nor how frazzled she felt inside. Perhaps it was a good thing that her job did not require too much mental concentration after all.

Before long, it was almost time for the lunch rush to start, and Mandy had finally begun to settle back into the normal cadence of any barista; Which is to smile, be friendly, listen carefully and work efficiently. But at 11:15, when Randall walked in the door again, she froze, adrenaline rushing through her body. She was not afraid... she did not feel threatened... but nonetheless she was still paralyzed as she watched him approach.

He walked straight to her at the counter, his confident smile still displayed, a white envelope in his hand. "Hi Mandy. I might have offered a better explanation for myself earlier this morning. I brought you this to help explain it all. You can read it whenever you have a minute." Then as swiftly as he had arrived he was gone again.

The entire exchange took less than 30 seconds. Only one coworker even noticed and asked, "What was that about?" Mandy tried to act naturally and hide her embarrassment, "Oh, nothing. He's a regular customer who wanted to give me a coupon to the other coffee shop he frequents. Weird..." She shrugged in a "whatever" sort of way to dismiss the conversation as she folded the envelope and slipped it into her back pocket.

Right After lunch she took a break as soon as possible and hurried to the ladies room where she locked a stall and opened the envelope to learn its contents. Inside was an oversized white card, with a printed invitation on one side.

You are Cordially Invited to a Private Tryst

At the Residence of

Randall (Just Randall)

This Evening, 5PM

At Which your Expectations will be Surpassed

and your Wildest Fantasies

will Seem Simplistic in the Future

Formal Attire Required

RSVP via text (YES or NO)

To 512-867-5309

On the back side was printed an address, 5000 West Ave, 42nd Floor.

She took a deep breath and sat on the toilet, her jeans still pulled up, staring at the inside of the stall door. "What in the hell is happening?" was all that she could think. She was mystified why a man she barely knew was making such a provocative and completely inappropriate advance, no matter how polite or attractive he was. And why her? Before today, She had never been any more than cordial to him. Why on earth was he singling her out, and why today? All these questions and more filled her mind as she left the ladies room and went back to work.

The afternoon was miserable. She could barely move through the motions of working, lost in thought about the man named Randall, the illicit invitation in her pocket and the words he spoke to her at the start of the day. As 3PM approached she was anxious to clock out and get away, but before the top of the hour, Randall again entered the coffee shop and walked directly to Mandy, another envelope in his hand.

"I thought I would bring you this, to give you a little sneak peek. I think you'll like it." Then as he turned to leave, he looked back and said, this time more quietly, "You might want to open that in private." After that, the mysterious Randall was gone again.

Mandy stood motionless, holding the second envelope, unsure how to react. This time her coworker noticed the odd situation and asked, "Are you OK, Mandy?"

"Its nothing," she answered. "You wouldn't believe me if I told you anyway." She slipped it into her pocket with the other envelope. The fact that she was not personal friends with any of her coworkers made it easy to keep personal topics, which this definitely qualified as, to herself.

At 2:58PM Mandy punched out, gathered her purse and jacket then headed out to her car. She was breathing heavy, her heart racing as she sat behind the wheel, locked the car door and opened envelope number two. Inside was a Polaroid type photograph with the words "Thinking of you" hand written across the bottom border. The photograph was a close-up taken of the edge of a clear glass tabletop, a light beige carpet or rug underneath. On the glass were several small puddles of milky white liquid. She knew immediately that she was looking at Randall's semen. He'd brought her a cum shot.

By the time Mandy reached her apartment, she was furious. "What pervert drops a picture like that on a total stranger," she thought. "I should call the cops." Although deep down she knew she had no intention of actually doing so. She tossed the two envelopes on her kitchen table and took a beer from the refrigerator. This would normally be study time before class, but she needed to cool off and somehow clear her head. She took a gulp of her beer and went to her turntable to see if some spinning vinyl could provide her with some needed therapy at this moment. She chose a classic, The Eagles Hotel California, thinking the easy and familiar lyrics would take her mind off her present situation.

It did not.

Listening made her think of her boyfriend, Derek, who had introduced her to the enjoyment of classic vinyl albums and helped her start her small but growing collection. While mostly dedicated and attentive as the man in her life, Derek was far from being a skilled lover. On the limited occasions he was actually interested in sex, his approach was blatantly self oriented and oblivious to Mandy's needs. She believed he simply didn't know any better and she was not up for the investment of coaching him. Most times she would masturbate after he returned to his apartment or once he fell asleep on those nights he stayed over.

Mandy went to the table, opened both envelopes and placed the contents out before her. Her eyes went instinctively to the photo. Here at her apartment, in private, she was aroused to think that Randall had not only cum on a table, but took the time and effort to document his results for her. She wondered if what she saw was a large or small amount of semen. At just 23 years of age, her experience with male ejaculation had been mostly inside a condom, or on limited occasions inside her vagina or even fewer times in her mouth. She had certainly never watched a man cum like that. While she still thought it was inappropriate, The photograph was both erotic and mysterious.

She reread the invitation, and felt a warmth growing between her legs.

"Clever," she thought. But was his talk of surpassing expectations just overconfident bravado? Or would a man of his age and presumed experience offer an intimate experience that would be different? "If Derek is my standard, that is a pretty low bar to beat," she concluded.

She turned it over to look again at the address. It didn't tell her anything useful but it was easy enough to type it into her phone. Her map showed that It was a high rise building downtown. Mandy didn't know downtown that well but understood there were some exclusive and expensive condos in that area. "It's a safe part of town," she thought.

While Mandy was young, she was still self-aware for her age. It was at that moment that she knew that her instincts, or her desires, were telling her to go... to meet with Randall.. to find what experience waited for her. It was almost 4PM, which meant she had only an hour to shower, pick an outfit and get to 5000 West Ave on time. She would not let herself be late.

She typed the numbers into her phone and texted one word: YES.

There was no reply, which was fine with her. It did not change what she needed to do next.

Showering took her all of ten minutes since she did not have time to wash her hair. Under these circumstances, she'd have liked to take a moment to envision what was to come and pleasure herself, given the growing anticipation inside her. But time was short and besides, the desire that she was feeling was a welcome change. Mandy realized she hadn't been this horny in ages.

Choosing an outfit was a harder task as twenty-something college students don't exactly own a wardrobe flush with formal attire. After her fifth choice failed to pass the mirror test, she remembered that she had stashed her simple, little black dress in her hall closet following last New Year's Eve. She had planned to take it to the dry cleaners but never followed through. A quick inspection revealed no aged champagne or food stains and that it only needed a quick iron to have it in presentable condition.

She accessorized with an understated, mother-of-pearl necklace, basic black heels and a gold bangle bracelet, then stood before the mirror to evaluate her finished product.

At twenty-three, Mandy had entered the brief, yet wondrous stage between late teen bone growth and womanly expansion. She was subtly curvy, her hips teasing slightly from underneath her dress. She was a pretty girl, she had no doubt. She was not big chested, though her breasts were perfectly proportioned to the rest of her fit body. Now barely contained behind her low cut dress, her tits made the impression of a more buxom woman. Her blemish free, slightly tanned skin gave off a girl next door aura. She applied dark pink lipstick as the final ingredient and she was ready. But now that time to leave was nearing, Mandy was increasingly nervous.

Mapping her destination on her phone, she arrived at the destination precisely on time. A parking valet approached her vehicle as she stepped out and said, to her "Good evening, You must be Mandy. Randall said you would be here at five. I'll take your vehicle for you. Have a good evening!" Mandy pretended that it was just an everyday greeting but even this small amount of personal knowledge about her did not help to relax her.

She entered the lobby, sought out then made her way toward the elevator, avoiding eye contact with the security guard standing behind a sleek marble counter. The chrome and glass design and ultra-high ceiling told her this was indeed an exclusive residential tower. The guard stepped in front of her, interrupting her plan. "Excuse me. May I ask who you're here to see?"

Mandy stood tall and answered as confident as she could, face to face with him. "I'm going to see Randall. On forty two."

"Oh." His demeanor softened. "You'll want to take the private elevator over here." He led her through an inconspicuous door off the side of the lobby to another room where three additional elevators were lined up along one side. The small numbers above the last set of brass doors read 42. He pressed the button, then the doors immediately slid open as Mandy took a deep breath and stepped inside.

Two minutes and four thousand feet later, the elevator doors silently opened. Mandy hesitated at first, then stepped into a formal entry hallway. Around her, marble floors supported a few, contemporary furnishings along with an oversized, chrome sculpture of a man and woman in a passionate embrace. She looked to her right, toward an open living space and saw Randall waiting for her, wearing a basic black tux, a glass of champagne in each hand.

"Thank you for coming, Mandy. I'm so happy you accepted my invitation. You look wonderful," he said enthusiastically. Randall's confident demeanor was now warm and almost comforting, as if he recognized how nervous she felt. "Please, come and sit down in here. Let's relax and have a drink." She followed him to an oversized leather sectional sofa. "Here's some champagne, or would you like something different?"

Mandy sat a couple of feet away from him and took the glass. "No. Champagne is great, thank you." She took a gulp, inhaled a deep breath and sat back on the sofa. The comfortable surroundings were helping to calm her nerves, which boosted her confidence enough to ask the one question she had been dying to ask all day. "Randall, I need to understand what this is all about. Why are you doing this? And why me?"

He smiled and sat back on the sofa as well. "I'm glad you asked those questions first. I owe you an explanation and will answer all them. We can sit here and talk as long as you like, and if you aren't comfortable with anything I say, or anything at all, at anytime, I'd like you to say goodbye and leave. Is that a deal?"

Mandy sat straight, and answered assertively, "Yes. That's exactly how I see it."

"Ok then." Randall took in a deep breath himself, as if ready to tell a long story. "You may not know this about me, but I'm the founder and CEO of a large and successful software company. It has placed me at the center of a complex and stressful professional life, which while very lucrative financially, leaves no time for family or relationships. I'm deeply committed to my company and its future, and have chosen a life without permanent female partners, girlfriends or a spouse. That said, I still enjoy and seek out intimacy, and exploring the boundaries of physical pleasure between a man and woman." He paused to take a drink of his champagne. Mandy was certain he intended for that last sentence to sink in.

"I've been attracted to you since the first time I came into your coffee shop many months ago. I was on the way to a meeting. There's not anything specific I can point to as to why, but I've occasionally been driving up to your part of town ever since just to get a glimpse and hear you say good morning, thinking someday I would find a way to ask you to come here. As for today? the invitation and the photo? Honestly, I was making it up as I went along. I'm busy seven days a week, and have to be efficient and direct in everything I do. If my approach was too much or offensive to you, I apologize." He paused to watch for her response to this.

"I thought it was clever," Mandy replied, as she tried unsuccessfully to hide her smile.

"Also, you did text me YES. So I suppose that says something too." They both chuckled, warming the mood further.

They chatted openly for the next hour. Mandy talked about her college course work and the constant balance between academics and working, along with the limited time available for Derek. She noted Randall's attention perk up as she mentioned her boyfriend, so she went out of her way to describe it as not being a serious relationship, albeit without discussing Derek's deficiencies in the bedroom. For his part, Randall described to some detail his business activities, which went way over Mandy's head as a journalism student, but she followed along as best she could. From her view, Randall seemed an ethical and conscientious executive, who tried to do right by people while balancing the vast interests of his company. It sounded exhausting to her, and made her feel special that he was committing this much of his obviously precious time to her.

After their third glass of champagne, Randall subtly changed the direction of the conversation. "I'd like to show you something, Mandy. Follow me over here." He walked down a short hallway with a door to each side and a third one at the end. Mandy followed and watched as Randall turned the door handle at the end of the hallway but did not push the door open.

"Come in front of me. Its OK." Randall stepped to the side to allow Mandy to open the door and walk in.

She entered a dimly lit room the size of a large bedroom. Warm tones of paint and wallpaper gave it a cozy, yet mysterious vibe. To one end was an elaborate poster canopy bed, which made her think bedroom to begin with. But there was more before her that she was uncertain about. In the opposite corner, a swing-like set of straps hung from the ceiling. A fabric-covered, elongated ottoman looking furniture piece was next to another wall, but instead of a flat surface, its sloped top went downward in undulating curves. She walked to a large glass table where she saw a myriad of sex toys, restraints, handcuffs, and things she wasn't even sure what they were. Seeing all of this, she realized that Randall had brought her to an elaborate sex room.