The Freyja Club

This morning, I'm sitting on the patio deck, a pile of black and white marble student notebooks are sitting on the table next to me and I'm busy reminiscing.

I'd joined my company directly out of the Army after serving a tour of duty as a Captain in Vietnam. I had a degree in engineering, and that's where they put me. At the same time, they were paying for further education, so I was pursuing an MBA in finance. Little did I know at the time how that choice would end up sending me down a completely different career path and ultimately all over the world.

At the time I joined my company, they were relatively small, in a niche business, but had a visionary young management team that had big plans. There is a truism that success is often just being in the right place at the right time, and I just fell into it.

By the age of 28, I had risen into the ranks of senior management and had been put in charge of developing and implementing the company's business expansion strategy, which centered on finding and acquiring compatible businesses all over the world.

At the time, I believed that I was about the youngest person to hold such a position. In the following years, I acquired a working knowledge of corporate law, regulatory compliance, investment banking, negotiating strategies, and a host of other subjects, not the least of which was a crash course on the vagaries of human nature.

Later, when we expanded beyond the United States, my education expanded significantly with the demands associated with foreign cultures and business practices, so by the time I was initiated into the Freyja Club, I was an experienced world traveler.

The M&A field is a steaming cauldron of rumors, innuendos, and half-baked aspirations and it takes a certain amount of expertise to separate the wheat from the chaff. Buying companies is a lot like finding a wife. There are highly compatible ones that take you to heights you've only dreamed about, and others can make life a living hell. The fact that I still held my position was, in large part because we had escaped buying any of the latter. Close calls perhaps but none that ended up in front of the alter.

While I didn't recognize it at the time I began this journey, I ended up in a field of endeavor that required establishing a wide range of contacts since our targets tended to be privately held companies operating around the world. During my tenure, we had only acquired one firm that was publicly held and while it ended up being a good addition to our portfolio, the proxy fight that resulted made it a lot more difficult than it should have been.

By nature, I'm not gregarious, but I am friendly and curious. In conversations, I'm rarely the one holding court. I'm often described as a "good listener," but I think that's just a by-product of someone who asks lots of questions.

In the last fifteen years, the company has grown to the position, where now it ranks as one of the Fortune 100. I like to think I had a lot to do with that.

On a personal note, my business successes were not carried over to my personal life. Of necessity, I traveled a lot, and often for considerable periods. This proved to be anathema for the development of a stable family life. Oh, I got close a couple of times, but the reality was that to get one thing I loved, I would have to sacrifice another thing I loved. Did I choose correctly? I don't know. Ask me again in another twenty or thirty years.

My current network of friends and acquaintances is considerable, and as I think about these many friends, I know that I wouldn't have met most of them if I had chosen a different path. Any misgivings that I might harbor are assuaged by that knowledge.

Romantically, I've had my share of involvements. Most were casual for a few months, more than a few could be legitimately called 'one night stands,' but there were three long-term relationships; Jennifer, Karen, and Maribeth. I may get back to those later.

When traveling, either domestically or abroad, I was usually alone. Occasionally I might have traveling companions, but those were exceptions to the rule. I mention this to introduce something that will end up being at the heart of this narrative. In a word "eroticism."

Ever since I became aware that boys and girls are different, I've been fascinated by the subject of sex.

I grew up in a military family with only a brother and we relocated frequently as my father was transferred from one post to another. This had the effect of exposing me to lots of people, different races, different cultures, different points of view. I entered puberty with all the normal anxieties and questions as everyone else, but there was one period that impacted me forever.

The very early 1960s were still relatively calm when compared to the cultural upheaval that followed a few years later. I was 16 when my father received orders to France. We followed and my brother and I entered high school there. At the time, France was much more socially progressive and permissive than America was, and because of this, I discovered something I probably wouldn't have elsewhere...

Victoria erotica.

I'd always loved books, so when I'd see a bookstore I'd always want to go browse. In the small French towns we lived near, there were few English titles, but the ones I found proved to be provocative. Many of them were erotic novels written around the turn of the century.

A main component of Victorian erotica was the female sexual object. Women were defined in terms of femininity, subordination, and the object of sexual desire. The books described sex in erotic detail, and such works as The Romance of Lust, My Secret Life, Venus in Furs, and The Pearl, stimulated my sexual fantasies and provided the images for my frequent late-night masturbation sessions.

By today's standards of 'in your face' pornography they seem antiquated and quaint, but they delved deeply into the underlying human emotions and desires of both men and women and revealed to me important differences that are being subordinated in today's culture of sexual equality.

Years later, on long trans-oceanic flights and lonely nights in hotel rooms, I began to think about those early images and thus I started my hobby of writing erotica on the Victorian model. The themes of male dominance and 'on the surface' female subordination in an erotic setting led me to write about 'The Freyja Club.'

The Freyja Club was founded in the very period that had so captured my adolescent imagination and I began to wonder if such an institution could continue to survive into our present age. This raised in my mind, both moral and, quite frankly, operational questions of how such a club could plausibly exist in today's world.

As I began to put pen to paper, and lately, fingers to keyboard, these ideas continued to evolve. What emerged was a half-erotic novel and half-detective story in which the central character (me) journeys through exotic settings and encounters men, but mostly women, who freely embrace the hedonistic and sexist culture of the club.

As I wrote the evolving chronology of my own experiences at the Freyja Club, I became aware that there was much exciting and interesting material that I was glossing over and leaving behind. As I introduced characters such as Daniella, Kyree, Michelle, Susan, Nancy, Fionia, and Hayley, it became obvious that they needed to be developed in ways that had nothing to do with my direct interactions with these delightful people.

Taking this as a personal challenge, I wondered if I was a good enough writer to tell their stories of how they became involved with this most mysterious institution called the Freyja Club.

This would require that, in addition to the narrative of my initiation and experiences, I would have to write their stories, told from their perspectives. For me the central issue was...

Could I write realistic and believable 'erotica' from a woman's point of view?

Five years ago the honest answer would have been a big no, but in the intervening period, several things happened that directly impacted the question that I was posing. The first, and most significant of these events was my meeting a woman named Jennifer Logan on a flight between Dallas and Los Angeles. That meeting turned into a four-year affair that, among other things, resulted in a broadening of my understanding of how women think, act, and feel about sex. Jennifer was a wonderful tutor and her ability to verbalize her thoughts, feelings, and emotions about the topic did much to expand my understanding of female sexual arousal.

The second major event of course was my introduction to the women in the Freyja Club. Unlike most of their sisters on the outside, these women embraced the hedonic lifestyle and their easy acceptance of it led to them being much more open to expressing their thoughts than would be expected elsewhere.

So now, much more comfortable with the issue, I have made my first effort to write from a woman's perspective by chronicling Michelle's journey to the Club. When I showed her the result, she was effusive in her praise of my humble prose and that gave me the confidence to try my hand with Hayley. Since Hayley is a tenured Professor of English, you can probably understand my apprehension in attempting to write her story. Imagine my surprise when she informed me that if I had been one of her students, she would have given me a 'solid A!'

I had been paging through my notebooks to determine if I had enough material to try to write anymore. I chuckled to myself when I saw some notes I'd made after a bout with Jennifer some years ago and I thought to myself, "Well, I certainly have enough on her." Then as I continued to review my scribbles I determined that I might be able to piece something together on Alma, Susan, Tyree, and Danielle, but unless I just wanted to make stuff up, I needed some more background.

While I was primarily interested in refreshing my memories about my experiences with the women I'd encountered at the Freyja Club, I came across a story that I'd started a few years ago about an encounter that I'd had with a woman named Lisa. It harkened me back to a time when such casual encounters represented much more the norm for me in my pre-Frayja Club days. Before I knew it my mind took flight and I began to recall those events that happened during my trip to Louisville in May of 1980.

Lisa was a very pretty brunette, probably about 5' 3" and 110 lbs with lovely green eyes and while her body was only average, I remember that I thought it was sweet with nice boobs and great legs. She had a wonderful flawless complexion and lovely lips painted with a pale shade of pink. At the time I was 40, in pretty good shape, and at 6" and 195 lbs. I thought I presented a not-so-bad picture.

Usually, my hotels of choice were Hilton's or Marriott's, but this time I'd opted for a nice bed and breakfast just outside of Louisville, Kentucky. A friend of mine had recommended the inn which was owned by a nice couple named Ben and Joan. It was located in a picturesque location and there was a good restaurant and bar located just down the street.

The B&B had been converted from an old farmhouse. Over the years, it had been added onto, tacking on wings for more rooms. It was clean but dated, very dated; the decor was an attempt to look like it was from the 1930s. Personally, I found it charming and Ben and his wife, Joan, were excellent hosts.

It was Kentucky Derby Week in Louisville and I was going to entertain a number of my associates and guests for the race, but they wouldn't be flying in until the next day, so until then I was on my own. I had hosted a Derby Week get-together once before and it had resulted in creating some contacts which led to others which led to at least one acquisition, so I was anxious to see if twice was a charm.

I spent the afternoon on preparations for Saturday which consisted of checking out the location of our small hospitality tent and grandstand box as well as confirming arrangements with the caterers. I finished those around five o'clock and I drove back to the inn to shower, relax, and change clothes. I had no specific plans for the evening other than to maybe head to the restaurant for dinner.

As I entered the restaurant there was a large stone fireplace that dominated the room and I remember that it was burning but not emitting much heat. I had a leisurely dinner and a couple of beers at the bar which was my custom when eating alone. I talked with a couple of other patrons, some of whom seemed to be regulars. Of course, there were a lot of arguments about who was going to win the big race.

The bar was broken into two parts, an upper and lower section. The upper portion where I was seated, had a sitting area with some used wooden tables and chairs and a worn but serviceable carpet. As I mentioned, its most salient feature was the massive fireplace. Several stairs led to the lower level, which also had a large bar and stools on the left side, some high-top tables in the middle, and booths along the right side.

Finishing my dinner, I decided to explore the lower section, so I walked down and took a stool at the bar, ordered a beer, and surveyed the room. Quickly, I made eye contact with a young lady; she must have been about 26 or 27, petite and slender with short brown hair and green eyes sitting alone in one of the booths. She had a glass of some kind of red wine and my initial impression was that she, like I, wasn't a regular customer. She was dressed just a little too classy in a nice business suit.

The jacket was a nice brown herringbone over a white blouse with a dark blue skirt that ended just above the knee. On her feet were black patent leather high heels, not too high, probably three inches. The skirt had a slit up the side and I noticed that her nicely tanned legs required no nylons and none were evident. I looked for a wedding ring, but none of the rings she wore looked like one.

There was another woman that I had met a few years ago in what would turn out to be a four-year affair. Among other things, she gave me some great advice on how to approach women.

Jen was the head buyer for a major clothing company that was in an 'open' marriage with her husband Steve. I truthfully don't know how many men Jen had invited to her bed, but I suspected it was some multiple of my successes. In any event, Jen told me that if I wanted to be attractive to women, I needed to be aware of the "rules."

Jen's rules of success were, I thought, pretty common sense, but she assured me that in her experiences, men violated them constantly. The first rule was, that first impressions are 90% of the battle. Dress for success, keep your fingernails clean, and use mouthwash. Rule #2 was "Confidence is sexy," women are programmed to respond to men who are assured. Rule #3 is that a sense of humor is a must. it's critical in lowering a woman's anxiety that they all feel in a new encounter. Insightful quips are best since they flow with the conversation. Jen always emphasized that rules one, two, and three were required to get to the place where rule #4, the most important rule, was appropriate.

Rule #4 was "Be bold! Tell her what you want!"

With Jen's insights chiseled into my conscience, I picked up my beer and made my way over to Lisa's booth, and asked if I could join her. She paused for just a second while she gave me a quick appraisal which included a quick unobtrusive glance at my left hand, which was ringless, and then said, "Sure, why not."

I assumed that she expected me to take a seat opposite and she seemed a little surprised when I chose to slide in next to her, but she posed no objection.

"Thanks," I said and introduced myself and learned that the young lady's name was Lisa. We spent some time exchanging information about one another. It turned out that she worked as a consultant for the software company Lotus and she lived in Columbus, Ohio. She and a co-worker of hers were in Louisville assisting one of her clients in installing the Lotus business suite and they had decided to spend the weekend rather than driving 6 hours home and 6 hours back on Sunday. Their hotel was a couple of blocks away, but the co-worker, an older married lady, was visiting relatives nearby, so this explained how Lisa had ended up in the bar by herself.

I noticed her glass was almost empty, so I bought her another drink and changed mine to what she was drinking and we continued to chat about the joys and frustrations of visiting clients, living in hotels, and eating in unfamiliar restaurants, all topics to which most business travelers can relate. In the minutes these discussions were taking place, I took the opportunity to press closer. Our hips and thighs were touching and I noticed that Lisa seemed okay with the contact.

Noticing that she was wearing a beautiful blue topaz ring, I reached over and took her hand to get a closer look. If this surprised Lisa, she gave no indication and I learned that it had been in a broach that had belonged to her grandmother, but she had it remounted into a ring. I leaned closer and told her that it was as beautiful as she was. Our faces were only inches apart and I was aware of the scent of her perfume.

There seems to be a point during any seduction where it becomes mutually obvious where it is heading. I think we passed that point when Lisa commented on my after-shave, "You smell good," were her specific words, but what I heard was, "Take me to bed."

I told her that I loved her eyes and that the eyes told me more about a woman than her hair or what she wore. When it was obvious that I had her full attention. I leaned in closer and told her that her sexy smile and eyes were "exciting." For just an instant I saw her eyes drop to my lap as if she understood what I meant by that specific word, and she gave a nervous laugh and said "Really?" To which I replied that she was welcome to check out the truth for herself. She chuckled and verbally declined, but I saw her take another quick peek and it seemed she might be thinking about it.

We were talking so low that she had to lean closer to hear, I told her that I was beginning to feel an emotional connection and I could see her give a little nod as if to confirm the truth of the comment. I knew she had had two drinks at that point, but I didn't know how long she had been sitting in the booth before I arrived, in any event, she seemed to be in a really mellow mood.

I noted that her face was beautifully illuminated by the fire to her right and the colorful bar lights to her left. I wasn't sure that the simple 110 camera that I carried would capture any of the subtle beauty, but I thought I'd give it a try. I asked if I could take a picture, and pointed out the unique lighting. She looked around and confirmed that indeed it was beautiful, and then she smiled and nodded, so I rose to my feet and snapped off a couple of shots while continuing to talk about how sexy her eyes and smile were.

Do women purr? It sure seemed to describe Lisa at that moment. She asked what it was that I found so attractive about her. I didn't get the impression that she was just fishing for a compliment, so I didn't immediately respond to her question, rather I slid closer and pressed my leg even more firmly against hers. Reaching out, I let my fingers trace a line over her hand and up her wrist to where her jacket cuff started. I locked eyes with her and smiled and she smiled back.

Finally, I decided that Jen's Rule #4 needed to be invoked. While I continued to tease her wrist and fingers with mine I looked deeply into her eyes and said, "It's everything about you that I find attractive, your eyes especially but also the way you express your femininity." As if to emphasize this last point, I dropped my hand under the table and touched her knee.