I swear that when I talked to Stephanie at work about her current book-list, I wasn't implying something out of the ordinary. I knew she enjoyed books, like I did. It was, in fact, a very innocuous question.
So when she answered that the Fifty Shades of Grey trilogy had caught her eye, I raised an eyebrow in surprise. I knew that Steph usually read only good books, and let's just say that the books in mention left a lot to desire.
"Did you come?" I joked, in reference to every orgasm the female lead had in the book, some of them even by shrugging or raising an eyebrow?
"Well not right now, but while reading the book, I actually did." She replied blushingly.
I stared at this usually quiet young girl. It was the first time I had heard something of this kind from her.
I thought that she was not particularly beautiful or elegant. Steph actually carried some extra pounds on her and was blessed (according to her) with smaller tits. She had shoulder length blonde hair, and usually sported outrageous glasses, which truthfully, not always flattered her image. I usually thought they were hideous, especially with those thick lenses. I liked her a lot however, and we had a lot in common. I grinned and left it at that.
Now I am an avid Literotica fan, and since I had made a few contributions, when I got to my desk, emailed her that I did have a story that was really good. Obviously I didn't tell her that it was mine, since I didn't want her to be embarrassed from me.
She replied that she was always up for a good read. So I just copied half of the developing story into a new document and emailed it to her. I knew that with our panic on a Friday, it would probably be a day or two before she would have time to read it.
Early the following Monday morning, it was a pleasant surprise when my aging PC pinged with an incoming mail message indication. Steph had indeed mailed the story home and read it there. I called her, knowing that since we were there so early, there would be nobody around to hear us talk.
"Hi Steph, it's me Chris. Yeah, nice and sunny today. Listen, did you like the story?"
"God, like it? I practically creamed while reading it. I, uh, actually rubbed one off to it. Who's the author? I got to have the rest of it." She answered.
She rubbed one off? It was time to take the plunge.
"Well I can send you the rest now since I have the second half of it here. I wrote it."
No preamble or mincing my words. I wanted to see where this would take us.
The silence at the end of the line was very unnerving to me at that moment.
"Hello, you still there? Steph?" I asked.
"Oh God, did I just say that I told you that I masturbated to one of your stories? What an embarrassment!" she burbled.
"Come on, it's not as if you're a kid owning up to your parents! What I want to know is if you liked it and want the second part."
"Yes, I did enjoy reading it, and would love the second part. Good thing I liked it huh?" she said.
"Wouldn't bother me none. You wouldn't be the first one. I'll send the other part this morning. I still have some writing to go into it, but hopefully I can finish it by the end of the month." I advised her.
With that we took our leave and hung up. I smiled inwardly. Could this lead to something? I was a confirmed bachelor, but was growing weary of spending evenings on my own or at the pub. I liked Stephanie a lot, and it seemed that we could get to like each other a bit more, if possible.
I mailed the complete story to Steph, and she replied immediately with a short note.
"Thanks, will read it tonight. S. xxx."
I smiled at the little crosses signifying kisses at the end of the note. Alright!
That Tuesday went by like lightning as problem after problem had to be met and tackled head-on, and it was late afternoon by the time I eventually sat at my desk. I took a look at the mailbox, but apart from the sundry mails, did not find one from Stephanie. I shutdown the computer and made my way home.
Home was my bachelor's pad slap-bang in the middle of the town nearby, a cluttered building hemmed in by high-rise buildings. Although well-furnished with all amenities, I always looked at it as a temporary solution, which solution I had naturally never found. A microwave dinner (I was an expert), a shower, and an early night in bed with a good book completed my ritual for that day.
The final chapters of the book kept me up late, so it was with a shock to wake up and find that it was already past seven. This meant that I had to skip breakfast, and take my bicycle to work. It was already gridlocked by that time, so the bike was the quickest option.
I punched in just in time (although in reality I had no need to be careful, being on flexi-time) , and after locking the bike to a railing, made my way to the office. The computer took its time booting up, and when the mail program finally loaded, I was rewarded with the top line indicating a message from Stephanie.
I looked at the screen apprehensively before clicking on the header.
"OMG Chris. It's incredible. You had me gasping all throughout. I need an ending now. S. xxx."
Those three little crosses again.
Clicking on the reply button, I answered her.
"Thanks for liking it. I still have to come up with an ending that will satisfy readers and make sense of it all yet."
I sent the answer, the little envelope gliding away. Barely a minute had passed before I got an answer.
"Would you consider collaboration? I have some good ideas on how it should end. S. xxx."
I could hardly breathe as I read the line. I couldn't imagine what dirty deeds Steph could come up with.
"Sure. Mail your suggestions over. Chris." Send.
The answer was prompt.
"Mail them over? Are you mad? Bring your notebook tonight with you. Meet at BHS around 7. Bike. Dinner at my place. S. xxx."
I sighed. This WAS going somewhere else. I asked her whether there was someplace I could lock my bike.
"No worries, we'll bring it up via the freight elevator. See you. S. xxx."
The day passed quickly enough, and soon it was time to pack up and go home. I saw Steph pass in front of my office, blowing a kiss from the palm of her hand. I smiled in anticipation. If only I could play my cards right, I thought. And if only she'd throw away those hideous spectacles.
Half-past-six saw me applying the last of the after-shave balsam on to my face and spreading the extra lotion on my arms. I dragged some gel through my hair, noticing that I needed a haircut. I wore my favorite cargo shorts over sandals and a white Chinese-collar shirt.
I wondered what to take with me, and I decided to take that Sauvignon I had been saving for a special occasion. I figured this was one of them. I checked my PowerBook to see that it held enough charge, decided it would keep for another three hours of work, and packed it in my backpack, together with the wine.
With ten minutes to spare, I wheeled my ancient Raleigh bicycle down the steps and rode it to the BHS, just five minutes away. I noted with surprise that Steph was already there, leaning against a bicycle herself. For some reason, I never imagined her as a biker, but as she hopped on her faded and chipped road-bike, I could see from her stance and alertness that she was an experienced rider.
She greeted me warmly, fluorescent yellow helmet firmly stuck on her head, and sporting a beautiful pair of Oakley sunglasses. I could only guess at what they cost. She motioned for me to follow her.
It was a ten minute ride through busy traffic before we eventually turned into a small lane and up to what I always thought to be a warehouse. Steph dismounted in front of the door, and after unlocking it, we wheeled our bikes through what actually turned out to be a large garage. We made our way to a squirrel-cage elevator, wheeled our bikes inside and rode up slowly to the seventh floor.
Stephanie removed her helmet while we were still grinding our way slowly up, hair tumbling shinily onto her shoulders. Why did I ever think she wasn't beautiful? Where had her prescription glasses gone? I had never noticed how pale blue her eyes were before. I guessed she was wearing contacts. I took my helmet off, ruffling my hair slightly, and took in my surroundings, presently constricted by the steel mesh of the elevator.
"Wow, I never imagined you lived here. What is this place?" I asked.
"Well it was a warehouse, as you can tell, but my father bought it and turned it into a two story holding garage. All the cars you see are new, never been on the road, and belong to the many dealers scattered in this town and the next. As you can imagine, security is extremely tight, and it is very safe here. Dad gave me the topmost floor for my own use. Ah, here we are."
The lift shuddered to a halt, and I stared in amazement at Steph's place. It was a converted loft, with just a huge open space, leading to an open terrace that looked out onto the rolling countryside. After leaving the bike in the lift, I made my way to the open terrace, mouth open. The terrace was easily larger than my apartment, tiled in terracotta, plants dotting the perimeter, and with an open hot-tub sheltered by one side of the walls. A small table with four chairs and a large sofa-swing completed the terrace. It was extremely private, and very quiet. I would kill for a place like this.
I turned to take in the rest of the place. It was absolutely stunning. A small kitchen adorned the opposite wall, with clean and simple lines, everything built into the units. A small table, seating four, but presently set-up for two lay just a ways from the kitchen area. A huge TV took up another bit of wall, with a large sofa and beautiful all-glass table in front of it.
The sleeping area was a raised platform halfway up the wall, reachable by a short flight of steps. The bed was a strange affair, probably motorized. I noticed that a small TV was mounted opposite the bed, and halfway up the ceiling. Various openings in the wall held hand-creams, lotions and a number of bottles, presumably perfume. What woman would be without perfume?
All in all the whole apartment inspired quiet confidence and calm.
"This is absolutely beautiful." I finally muttered to no-one in particular, but knowing Stephanie would hear me.
"Good to know. Now chop-chop, go wash you hands, dinner's ready."
"It sure smells good. I am, truthfully, famished." I said, handing her the wine.
"Goody, my favorite. Sauvignon." Stephanie smiled as she shooed me towards the bathroom.
