Do I Dare

Prologue

Anonymously I shuffled my way to my desk, firmly clenching my cup of coffee. I was 'only' two hours late for work, but I managed to avoid the usual comments. I safely reached my desk and very gently lowered my sore body onto my chair. It took me a few moments to be able to relax my muscles in my bottom and legs, but after a few sips of my coffee I managed to sit with some degree of relaxation. The other girls in the office had eyed my stiff manner of walking, but apparently hadn't thought that much of it. After all, I was the only one to make it to the gym yesterday. They probably guessed I had gotten a good workout. If that was so, than they were more right than they would hopefully ever know. Last night had been the workout of my life, in more ways than one.

My name's Angela, and I work for a small advertisement agency. We do radio commercials, magazine ads and an occasional televised campaign. At my tender age of 25 I'm already one of the senior designers here, so you guess I could say I'm doing allright for myself. Now usually I continue this introduction with the sad words that I'm a single girl still looking for mister right, but after last night I'm not so sure anymore. I'm not sure I'm single, and I'm not sure I'm looking for mister right, and I'm not sure what that all means. Its been one crazy night.

Wednesdays and fridays me and two other girls from work go the local gym for some excersise. We only started doing this a few months ago, and already our budding routine shows signs of a slow death. Cathy came up with the idea, and easily convinced Tanya and me. Why in the world Cathy found it necessary to start exercising is a mystery to me. She is the prototype of the athletic woman, I'm the one of whom you would say she needs the exercise. But I guess developing a social life by going places with people you know is an argument too. Of course, while we have our share of fun at the gym, you barely meet new people. You're a group of three women who more resemble a pack of girls, with all the giggling. Hardly something to attract the better developed human male, right?

Each of us has missed a few nights before yesterday, and last night both Cathy and Tanya had announced they wouldn't be able to make it. Now normally, this would have been more than enough reason for me to go home myself and relax with a good book or some television. But for some reason, either stepping on the scale that morning, looking at the mirror somewhere that day, or the fact that I did bring my excercise clothes, I decided going to the gym all by myself wasn't the worst thing that could fill a wednesday evening.

Now I know what you're thinking after reading the remarks about the scale and the mirror. 'Am I reading about a fat ugly cow here?' I suppose not, though I'm not too happy about my weight, most of the time. But then again, who among us females is, right? I bet even Cathy with her slim, trim body believes she can spot the excess fat on her limbs. Cathy does make a habit of joking around about the absence of breasts on that figure, though. Often she complains about how guys are always looking at tits when chasing a girl, and how that always leaves her left out. She's joking, of course, because she has a steady boyfriend for some time now. But anyway, the tit department is one thing I'm not supposed to complain about, according to my fellow gym visitors. Cathy often jokes that when handing out breasts, they must have given her share to me. My breasts are quite large, indeed. Considering that I'm not that tall either, emphasizes my chest too. And, in my opinion, my large chest makes me look fat.

Objectively speaking, I don't suppose I'm fat. Women have a tendancy to compare themselves with the unfair comparisons. I compare myself with Cathy, who is indeed too slim to be true. I've never been truly slim, but I've always managed to get myself in the regular sized jeans, which is sort of my goal. Back in my college days I used to a lot of rowing, and that kept me fit enough. Right after college came work and the serious lack of time for sports. Add to that the natural tendancy of woman to gain weight when they get older, and you'll understand I've had a bit more difficulty squeezing into my old jeans. So all in all, I suppose it was a good idea to start excercising at the gym.

Chapter one

I mentioned before the three of us usually resemble a pack of giggling girls when we're at the gym. Usually that also means we're not getting a lot of excersise. By myself, on the other hand, I got plenty of excersise. During a good hour of sweating a did all of the excersise I usually get in two weeks time. I was feeling really pleased with myself, when I almost bumped into a guy because I wasn't paying attention. He got my attention though. I was mumbling a "sorry" and was about to head on to the dressing room, when he said: "You're Angela Young, right?" I looked up at him, and his face did look familiar. I couldn't place him right away though, so I sheepishly replied: "That's right, I'm Angela. I'm sorry, you look familiar, but ehm...."

"Mark Ferry," he said, with a somewhat bashful smile. "We used to be high school classmates ages ago. Remember?"

Mark Ferry, the name did ring a bell. The image of a tall, very skinny geek from my high scool days came to mind. Typically someone I knew by name but never by actual contact. But standing in front of me was no skinny geek. He was still tall, but quite muscular. It was obvious, even with the sweatshirt on, that this was hunk of a guy. Broad, muscular shoulders, and developed arms were in plain sight, and I didn't dare to look anywhere else than that. His face was older, of course, and he was showing signs that he was losing his hair. But his face was definately that of Mark Ferry.

"Mark, yes, now that I take another look at your face, I do remember. You certainly have changed though. You used to be a skinny geek." I became red at that remark, because I'm my head I was already complimenting Mark on his improved physique.

Mark smiled, and replied: "And you're still the same stunning blonde, Angela." His eyes broke away from mine for the first time since bumping into each other, and he cast a quick glance at the rest of me. Instantly, I felt very exposed, as I was dressed only in my tight workout outfit, which couldn't help but show my large chest.

"Say, you want to go for a drink in the cafeteria? It would be great do a little catching up," Mark offered with an enthousiasm that made it hard to refuse. I really did want to take a shower and change into my daily clothes first, but since Mark showed no intention of heading to the dressing room first, I felt like a bad sport to introduce this delay.

We were into our third round of energy drinks when the conversation turned to relationships. Our catching up had been rather trivial, explaining what we had done since high scool. Mark had gone to state university and was currently involved in a career with a large energy company. He had made it to junior manager and was frequently sent abroad by his company. He had been to Indonesia the last six months, which was why I hadn't seen him at the gym before.

"I was in a long term relationship up until two years ago," Mark told me, "Almost got married too, but it didn't work out that way."

So, the hunk was a single? Judging from his lifestyle though, I guessed that at this point Mark had been involed in the occasional short term relationship. He didn't tell me, because that's not the sort of thing you talk about when catching up, right?

"I've had a steady boyfriend in college, but since then I haven't been in anything long term myself," I replied. The term 'steady boyfriend' was probably quite a compliment for good old Richard, who had been little more than a very steady sex partner during my first, and very naive year of college. And I, too, left out numerous short flings and one night stands. This was certainly not something you told men about, being a decent girl, after all. All those short flings had been in my college days though, and these last three years had been without as much as a date for me. Maybe that was why I was feeling a little excited in Mark's presence.

After these mutual, and incomplete confessions came one of those 'uncomfortable silcences', during which Mark again lingered with his eyes on my breasts. Back in my college days this would have either embaressed or angered me. A male friend of mine once explained that this is something men do that cannot be helped. This was a guy who was deeply involved with his own steady girl, but couldn't help but give my set of breasts an admiring stare now and then. Since that explanation, I can take a glance now and then without being insulted.

"Why did you and your girl break up?" I asked, realizing that this was perhaps also such a thing you didn't discuss during catching up.

Mark looked at me for a moment, perhaps estimating if he could trust me with this information, then explained: "Melissa and I eventually agreed that our relationship had been based on sex, and little more." At the mentioning of the word sex I blushed a little more, but Mark continued: "We did enjoy our time together, but we both had to admit that we did little more together than have sex. The social outings, the dates, all of that was just to decorate the relationship. It was fun, but it was no more than that. At first I was a little shocked that she would bring this to me that way, but eventually I got to agree with her. We broke up, not because of that, but because she wanted to find someone she could feel comfortable raising kids with, and spending the rest of her life with. And that someone was just not me."

Another uncomfortable silence followed, and I was sure I killed an enjoyable conversation. "I'm sorry," I muttered.

"Don't be," Mark replied with a smile. "I'm not unhappy with that period of my life, in fact I value it, and the lessons I learned there."

Lessons learned from a relationship based on sex? Yes, I was thinking exactly that. But Mark continued to explain: "You see, the popular myth is that men want sex, women want relationships, and this is where the trouble begins. Women are told to be the sex delaying factor in a relationship because they want to get to know a guy first, right?"

"I suppose there has to be a level of trust before having sex," I replied, more or less quoting the Cosmopolitan here. Meanwhile, I was turning an even deeper shade of red because of this subject.

Mark continued despite of my crimson color: "Well, that may be true in a lot of cases, but I learned that sex can be an enjoyable thing for both men and women, and can be pursued by both men and women. Women engage often enough in one night stands to prove this point. But what holds them back more than their desire for a relationship, is the fear to be considered cheap. Just going with a guy for sex is seen by society as giving in to the man, giving yourself away and thereby showing yourself to be cheap, or slutty. And this is something most women will want to avoid at all cost, right?"

I had to admit Mark was very much right about that, indeed. As I said, in my college days I had engaged in several short flings with no intention or desire to turn them into relationship. I don't know if I've been considered cheap because of that, but you certainly didn't hear me brag about it. You heard some guys brag, if they got laid often, and it gave them some heroic status with the other guys. And this was really stupid, when you think of it.

I nodded in agreement, and Mark leaned back a little, smiling. He had proven his point and was therefore content. He looked me in the eyes for a moment, then said: "I mean, there is no good reason why a girl shouldn't be able to desire sex, and persue it like any other guy, right? Sex can be very much enjoyable for a man as well as for a woman, so why should a woman have to deny herself that pleasure?"

His point had been proven with his previous statement, but that last remark was directed at me. It was a covert attempt to invite me into saying I wanted sex, maybe with him. The conversation had passed beyond the idle chit chat and had progressed into the next level. He had made clear what he wanted, and he had opened up the door for me to do so as well. I carefully looked into Mark's eyes, where I found a confident gleam. Without speaking 'the words' directly, he had made his intentions clear, and he wasn't ashamed of it. By not speaking 'the words' directly, he also gave me the chance to get out of this if I didn't want to pursue it.

A few moments passed. A few more, and the window of opportunity would have passed. He would have gotten up to get another drink, and would have changed the topic to something more light-footed. But the truth was, of course, part of me did want to take him up on his invitation, though it was a very small part. This hunk of a stranger, with a long relationship of experience, was offering me sex which I hadn't had in over three years, and the idea very much appealed to me. My one night stand days were over though, I had left them in college. And despite Mark's entire argument, I was still uncomfortable with agreeing to sex so easily. I was still worried about his good opinion about me. A decision had to be made, of course, and fast.

Mark blinked, looked away, and was about to get up. "Allright," I said, and his eyes were fixed on mine again. I already regretted it, but I was going to diplomatically imply I wanted to have sex with Marc. I took a few moments to choose my words carefully, then said: "Lets say a girl would want to give in to her urges. She still would never want to show this directly."

Smiling, Mark answered: "As soon as a hint has been given, the couple would have to agree on an excuse to get together somewhere, that would be acceptable to the people around them."

This left the door open for the cheesy but effective 'are you coming to my place for a nightcap', but then we were startled in our conversation by one of the gym employees.

"Closing time, ladies and gents, last round." He then spotted us, still in our workout clothes. He walked over, and said: "I'm very sorry, but I'm afraid you can no longer use the showers tonight. The gym closes at ten.

We had certainly lost track of time, as it was almost ten. The employee had also ruined our conversation though. You know the expression 'the ice has been broken', but this was the other way around. Mark got up, and I tried to do so as well, but after an hour of excercise and more than an hour of sitting still I had a pair of sore legs. With obvious effort, I got up and Mark couldn't help but smile a little. The sexual tension was plummeting fast.

Chapter two

A few minutes later we were outside, with our coats on and bags in our hands. For a few moments, none of us spoke as we watched the other gym visitors walk by. Then, as a sort of goodbye, Mark said: "My place is on the other side of town. I'd like to have you over for a drink some time."

It sounded as a sort of 'I'll call you later' goodbye, but I the disappointment in his voice was clear enough to me. After the daring conversation back in the gym cafeteria, daring Mark now didn't want to propose going to my place, or taking me with him now. So with a deep breath I decided to salvage his hard work with my most daring words so far: "Well, my place is only a five minute walk from here. You can use my shower, of you like."

Inviting someone to use your shower when you damn well know that person has a shower himself is a pretty obvious remark with the intent to get someones clothes off. Mark's expression changed instantly from a tense smile to a very wide one. He didn't have to actually say he accepted the offer now, so instead he said: "Lead the way."

A good fifteen minute walk later, I lied about the five, we arrived at my appartment building. I showed an obvious effort in getting up the stairs, and Mark commented as we came to my front door: "I can give you a massage if you'd like. I'm sure it will help with the sore muscles." I opened my front door, and could only smile bashfully, with a very deep red color on my face. By this time I was starting to realize what this was going to. The possibility of sex hadn't actually settled into my head just ye. And a massage meant his hands on my body, which made it all a lot closer.

I quickly showed Mark the appartment with a small living room, bed room and bathroom. I offered him the use of the shower, but he insisted: "Ladies first."

Yeah right, I was really into the lady thing, inviting a guy over like this. The remark turned my cheeks red once more, something Mark definately noticed. By now he had probably realized I was perhaps a little in over my head with the situation. He sat down on the couch and turned on the television, giving me a little room to do my thing. I made sure I had towels and my robe in the bathroom, something I usually don't bother with since I live alone. I took a long shower, and it hardly helped me to relax. I contemplated using a cold shower to cool down, but I decided against it. If I were to cool down now, so to speak, I probably would go so far as to send Mark out on his own before midnight. After a good fifteen minute shower I emerged from the shower trembling, not from the cold but from the tension I think. After drying myself off, I gave myself a nervous smile in the mirror. This was all too ridiculous, I thought to myself. Here I was, at age 25, a grown woman. And I was nervous as a schoolgirl because there was a guy in my appartment. hunk of guy, of course, who had received enough sexual hints that made it almost impossible to turn back now.

I put on some underwear, a shirt and the robe, and carefully opened the bathroom door. Mark looked up from the television and smiled as he saw me. Then he recognized the obvious tension in my face, and his smile faltered a little. He got up, and walked towards the bathroom. "It's all yours," I mutterd, "towels are in the...."

He interrupted me by softly taking my head in his hands and giving me a soft kiss on the lips. That shut me up all right, but it was certainly an ice breaker once again. I felt a lot of tension lifting from me. The kiss was short, but sweet, and after the kiss Marc said: "Look, I'm going to take a shower. After that, I would very much like to give you a massage for those aching muscles. Just lie down on the bed and take off whatever you feel like. What happens after that is completely up to you, all right?"

I smiled at him, feeling all of the tension slide away for a moment. No obliged sex after all. A good massage, a kiss and perhaps a phone number. I could deal with that. I nodded in agreement, and continued my earlier sentence: "Towels are in that closet." As Mark walked in, I added: "On the top shelf is a bottle of massage oil."

With the sound of the running shower I walked into my bedroom, and took off the robe. My bed is a little on the small side, it would certainly be a cozy night if I decided to let Mark stay. Very cozy indeed, with his large torso and my boobs in the way. Spooning, side by side we would both still run the risk of spilling over the side. However, I decided that this certainly would not be an issue. I lay down on the bed, contemplating the situation. I probably wouldn't be able to escape taking off the shirt, but the key to sex or no sex would be the underwear. If I would lie down without the shirt but with my underwear on, a smart guy like Mark would probably take the hint and know he could give me a massage, steal a kiss and maybe even a glance at my naked boobs, but that would be all. If I would be lying there naked, he would take that as a hint that I was ready to go all the way.

I took off the shirt, and tossed it into the corner. I intended to make the final decision about my panties when I would hear the water stop running. Meanwhile, I closed my eyes and imagined Mark's muscular torso without his shirt. Would he have chest hair? Would his nipples harden as I rubbed his chest? I dreamed away at the imagined sight of Marks muscles, when suddenly I realized I couldn't well receive a massage lying on the bed. I'd better get a towel to lie on. With that realization, I also heard the water being turned off in the bathroom. I got up, and walked over to the bathroom. I realized I would be walking in there nearly naked, and hesitated. Of course, I would be as near-naked or worse during the massage. So I knocked softly and opened the bathroom door.