Sasha Ch 05

I had a very vivid dream that night. I dreamt I was walking along the ocean near a rocky cliff with Dylan.

"Why don't we go swimming?" he asked me, but I didn't want to - we didn't have on our bathing suits and the waves were very rough. "No problem, we'll just swim in our clothes," he insisted.

Even though I told him I didn't want to, he pulled me into the water. I was terrified, and screamed and tried to run away, but he was much stronger and pulled me out further and further. I looked up on the cliff, surprised to see Sasha, standing, watching the whole thing, but not making a move to help me.

"

He's

not going to save you," Dylan sneered.

The waves came crashing over my head. I struggled to breathe.

I woke up, my heart pounding. Dylan was snoring next to me. I tried to go back to sleep, but couldn't stop thinking about the dream.

I went down to the basement and flipped on the TV. I climbed on the Stairmaster. Sasha's face invaded my thoughts and wouldn't go away. When I finished my course, I walked slowly back upstairs to our bedroom where Dylan was still asleep. I turned on the shower, took off my clothes and stepped into the steam. As I was shampooing my hair, a wad of suds slipped down to my breast.

Remember what happened the last time I did this?

I started to rub it on my nipple, but stopped.

What are you doing?

I scolded myself.

You can't let yourself do this.

I almost started to cry.

Dylan stumbled into the bathroom as I was drying my hair. "You're up and about early. Going in already?"

"Yes," I replied. "Lots of work has piled up, I'm sure."

"Any chance you'll be home early enough to have dinner together?"

"We'll see," I said. "I'll call you."

I arrived at the office before seven. Even at that early hour, I had the company of some of the ambitious young executives. We exchanged pleasantries; one of the account executives told me how nice I looked.

"You must have been doing something else in L.A. besides wrestling Taniguchi to the ground to make him sign the contract!"

I laughed, thinking,

If only you knew...

There was a pile of work awaiting me, and I dove into it whole-heartedly. Lots of calls, lots of memos kept me busy and the hours flew by. Every time Sasha crept into my head, I had a wide range of issues to distract me.

The afternoon passed and I called Dylan.

"Oh, God, it's been a zoo today. I never can leave for more than a day without things falling apart. No, no, just wrap it up, I'll reheat it when I get in. Sorry. Yes, I think I'll be home before 9:00. Love you."

I hung up the phone, relieved that I had a few more hours before I had to face him again.

I heard a signal on my computer to alert me to an incoming Instant Message. I looked up at the IM Window on my screen.

white_russian: Good evening, sweetheart! I knew you'd be in the office late. What are you doing?

I froze.

Oh my God

. My fingers trembled as I typed my reply.

HK74: Sasha, is that you?

white_russian: Well, of course it is. I didn't dare call you, so I figured out how to use this chat thing. How did it go when you returned home?

HK74: OK - he doesn't know anything happened. Are you at your office?

white_russian: Just barely - my mind is not on my work today. I have to look out on the patio, you know!

HK74: Oh. That could be a problem. My heart is there too, but my work has saved me today. I can't begin to let myself think about you. I would go insane.

white_russian: I miss you. I want you. I want to do you right now. What if I just walked into your office and shut the door...

HK74: Well, considering the windows that look into my office, that would give the staff something to talk about!

white_russian: Hasn't everyone gone home yet?

HK74: I guess so - maybe a few left.

white_russian: I want you to do something for me.

HK74: What?!

white_russian: I want you to go to the ladies room and take off your panties. You're wearing a skirt today, right? And those thigh-high stockings too?

HK74: Well, yes, but what do you have in mind?

white_russian: And you can close your door and have some privacy?

HK74: I think so. What are you up to?

white_russian: Go do that and let me know when you're back.

I knew where this was leading. I also knew that it was the only way I would keep from going insane. I ran down the hall, dashed into a stall and quickly trotted back, closing my office door behind me. I had to look to confirm, but thankfully, my desk had a privacy panel, and my monitor would shield my face and upper body in case anyone happened to glance in.

HK74: I'm back. No panties.

white_russian: Very good. Spread your legs in the chair.

HK74: Mmmm - breeze feels good!

white_russian: I'm going to take my finger - well it has to be your own, but you can imagine that it's mine - and wet it in your mouth, then trace around your lips - use your tongue too.

HK74: Yes, that's good. My lips are wet - a little swollen too.

white_russian: Trace my finger down your neck to your chest. Are you wearing a blouse with buttons?

HK74: Just for you.

white_russian: Undo one button and slip my hand in on top of your bra. Slide it all around one breast. Feel how your beautiful pink nipple gets hard right away at my touch.

HK74: Ooooooh.

white_russian: Now the other one.

HK74: Ahhhhh.

white_russian: I am getting very hard here. I need to fuck you soon. Let's get down to business. Put a hand on your knee and slide it up.

HK74: I'm sliding....

white_russian: Trace my finger up along the edge of your cunt.

HK74: Oh my god

white_russian: Down along the other side. Are you wet?

HK74: I'm sitting in a puddle. Hrd to type w 1 hand.

white_russian: Dip my finger in and go straight up the middle to your clit.

HK74: yess

white_russian: Slowly, slowly, make a circle around it. Don't press too hard yet.

HK74: yef mmmmmmmmmm coming mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm

I had no trouble envisioning that Sasha was right there, kneeling under my desk, doing these things to me. I stroked my clit faster and faster and tried to suppress my trembling as I came.

white_russian: Are you there?

HK74: oh my god

white_russian: That was quick. Now you must excuse me for a moment...

HK74: Let me guess what you're doing!

I stood up to straighten out my skirt and blouse. I looked at the seat of my chair - there was a damp spot visible. I pushed it aside and grabbed a guest chair to sit in. Although I knew he wouldn't be back at his monitor yet, I typed this:

HK74: Did you enjoy my blowjob?

It took a few minutes before I got a response.

white_russian: That's exactly what I was thinking of!

HK74: Well that must have been fun!

white_russian: But not as fun as the real thing. I can't live without you.

HK74: I can survive, but not live. What are we going to do?

white_russian: When can I see you?

HK74: I have no idea. This is so difficult.

white_russian: When and where is your next business trip?

HK74: I need to spend a week in Tokyo next month.

white_russian: What about a layover in L.A.?

HK74: That's possible. At least for a few hours.

white_russian: I'll take what I can get. Let me know as soon as you make your plans.

HK74: I'll call my travel agent as soon as I get off with you.

white_russian: I thought you did just "get off?"

HK74: Naughty boy.

white_russian: I love you, sweetheart. Chat with you later.

HK74: Bye.

I closed the chat window and stared blankly at my screen for quite a few minutes.

The next day, I called my travel agent to discuss my schedule to Japan. The news was not good. I could not find an available flight that left me with more than a few hours in L.A. I had no choice.

I sent Sasha an e-mail with my itinerary. A few hours later, a chat window appeared on my screen.

white_russian: Sweetheart, your time here is too short! And you have no time on the return! Why can't you stay longer?

HK74: If only I could! Those are the only flights through L.A. I can take to get to my meetings over there. And the following weekend is Dylan's sister's wedding. Absolutely cannot miss that.

white_russian: This is not good. I already started counting the days until I can see you, and it's going to be so brief.

HK74: I know. What can I do?

white_russian: Quit your job and leave your husband and run off with me.

HK74: Don't tempt me.

white_russian: I AM tempting you. I will tempt you until the end of time. Do you have your panties on?

HK74: YES! And they're going to stay on today. I'm way too busy.

white_russian: You are so dedicated! Well, the next time you're in the ladies room, think of me.

HK74: Before or after I flush?

white_russian: oooh - you'll pay for that one. I love you. Bye.

HK74: Bye.

I closed the chat window and stared out at the mountains in the distance. After a minute, I got up from my chair and walked down the corridor to the ladies room. It was empty. I went into the last stall, pulled down my panties, sat on the toilet and masturbated quickly.

When I returned to my desk, the receptionist buzzed me on speakerphone. "You have a package that was just delivered."

"Thanks, Renee, I'll be right up."

I made my way to the front desk and saw a package -- about two feet square, wrapped in brown paper. My eyes jumped to the return address: The Getty Museum.

Oh my God

. I resisted the urge to rip off the paper right there.

"Hey, thanks, Renee!"

She gave me a sly grin and said, "So, who's your boyfriend in L.A.?"

I almost jumped at the question.

"What? - oh ha! You're hilarious! This is just something I bought there I had shipped to me." I doubted I sounded convincing.

She replied, "Uh huh."

I wanted to run back to my office. I managed to stroll nonchalantly, avoiding eye contact with anyone who passed me in order not to be interrupted. I made it back and shut the door.

Scissors! Where are my damn scissors?

I fumbled through my desk drawers. I found a letter opener and was able to tear the paper off the object inside. As the wrapping fell away, the back of a small, framed picture became visible. My hands trembled as I turned it over. It was "The Boy," a smaller, but high quality reproduction, beautifully mounted in an ornate frame. I closed my eyes and hugged the picture to my chest. I looked down at the wrapping paper covering my desk and spied a piece of white paper. I picked it up and turned it over. In neat, yet vaguely foreign script, I read the words, "Here's someone to keep you company, to watch over you if I can't be with you. He knows what's in your heart.

S

." I stared at the paper, then put it in the top drawer of my desk. I picked up the phone to call Renee.

"Hey, do we have a hammer and a picture hook around here?"

Once the picture had been secured on the wall, I couldn't resist calling Sasha. I didn't want to make it a habit, but I really needed to hear his voice. I found his office number and dialed, my heart beating quickly. After one ring, a professional voice said, "Sasha Katarinov." I couldn't respond immediately; I couldn't get any words out. "Hello? Is anyone there?"

I managed to find my voice. "Thank you," I said softly.

There was a pause at the other end, then, "I knew you would like it."

"It's on the wall facing my desk where I will see it all the time. I almost cried when I opened it - it looks so much like you."

"Well, I have a confession; it

is

me. Don't you think I look pretty good for being well over a hundred years old?"

I chuckled. "Isn't it dangerous for senior citizens to fuck so much in such a short period of time?"

He laughed loudly. "Oh no, not at all! My doctor recommends it. How do you think I've managed to stay so young?"

"True, but who's been your nurse before last weekend?"

"No one that looked, or tasted, as good as you."

Just then, my boss popped his head in my door. "We're ready for the meeting now."

"Sash, I'm sorry, but I have to go. Thank you so much."

"I love you - just remember that every time you look at the picture."

"I will. Bye." I hung up, but let my hand linger on the receiver for an extra second, with a smile on my face.

There were more than three weeks before I left on my trip. The days went by quickly. I liked my work and the people I worked with. But daytime wasn't the problem; evenings and weekends at home with Dylan were. The time there dragged slowly. I was always on guard, very reactive to the things he said. I easily found fault with minor transgressions. I avoided things that required exclusive interaction with him. He noticed a change in my demeanor.

"What's up with you lately?" he demanded one Saturday after I snapped at him about something insignificant. "Pardon my French, but you've been an absolute bitch since you came back from your last trip!"

"Oh, really?" I retorted angrily. "Thanks so much for your support.

You

try dealing with all the demands I have in the office, keeping my clients happy! You try bowing and scraping for every little concession, or try explaining to my boss why it's taking so long to get it done! You try cranking out a multi-media presentation in just a week's time when all the other departments won't turn in their numbers!"

I folded my arms on my chest and glared at him.

"I'm sorry, did I forget? Your work is the number one priority around here," he said sarcastically. "Forgive me if I've done anything to distract you." He turned suddenly and left the room.

I stood there for a moment, trying to decide what to do. My first instinct was to run after him and apologize, but something wouldn't let me do that. An evil thought popped up in my mind:

It's working.

We spent the last few days before my trip in a mainly polite, but cool atmosphere. I tried to keep from snapping at him, yet I didn't do anything to make him feel I was sorry for my behavior. There was one exchange, though, that left me shaken. Dylan interrupted me as I worked on the computer in our study.

"I have last month's credit card statement here," he said. "It's funny, your hotel in L.A. only charged you for four nights instead of five even though you ended up staying one more day."

I took the statement out of his hand and looked at it, my mind racing. "Really? Let me see that. Gee, that's funny. Oh, I know why - I had already checked out and had to check back in when it was clear I wasn't going to make it home that night. I'll bet that last night will be on next month's statement. Considering what they charge, they should give me a free night anyway."

"Hmmmm. Well, I hope you submitted your expense report already. I want to make sure we get reimbursed before you run up all those astronomical charges in Tokyo next week."

"Of course I did. I always get them in right away," I said testily.

I worked late hours during the last week, but wasn't as productive as I should have been. I often found myself staring at the boy on the wall, daydreaming about what I would be doing when Sasha and I had those few precious hours together during my layover. Sasha and I didn't use Instant Message much. It was just too hectic for me and he said he was very busy too.

When Friday finally came, I was jittery with anticipation. As I was packing my suitcase in the morning, Dylan asked, "What time are you leaving the office for the airport?"

"I don't know. About two o'clock, I guess."

"I'm going to be downtown for lunch today. Why don't I swing by and say good-bye?"

"Oh, sure."

I didn't think much about it until 1:45 when I heard someone rapping on my office door.

"Knock, knock!"

"Dylan, what are you doing here?"

"I came to talk you into letting me drive you to the airport!"

"That's not necessary, I'll get a cab."

"Don't be silly, and besides, it will give us an hour to talk. I'm not going to see you for over a week. Please?" He looked around my office and immediately noticed "The Boy." "Hey, what's this one? That's new since the last time I was here!"

"Yeah, I picked that up at the Getty on my last trip."

"Oh, really? When did you have time to go there? Weren't you totally busy?"

Oh, shit. Be cool, be cool!

I shuffled some papers on my desk. "Well, I did manage to get there the first morning for an hour... Hey, I've got to go get something. Wait here."

I trotted out of the office and down the corridor before I could hear any response. My heart was pounding; my palms were sweating. He had taken me totally by surprise; I wondered if he must have seen through me. I walked around the perimeter of the office and stopped briefly to say goodbye to a colleague. A few minutes later, I returned to my office to find Dylan sitting in my desk chair. I put a big smile on my face as I walked through the door.

"OK! I'm ready to go now!"

"Weren't you going to get something?" he asked me -- I had returned empty-handed.

"Guess I didn't need it after all." I grabbed my laptop and a valise of brochures and documents. "Let's go!"

I made an effort to be pleasant during our ride to the airport, inquiring about what he'd be doing during my absence. I thought we were having a pleasant conversation, when he suddenly interjected, "Wow, you know, you're a lot nicer when you're on your way

out

of town."

I hung my head. I didn't know what to say.

"I'm sorry I've been such a bitch, Dylan. Work has been busy."

"So you've told me," he sighed. "You've changed since you've come back. Something is really wrong, I know it. I want things to be like they used to be between us. I want you to think about that when you're gone. If that's not too much to ask...." He let that hang there; I felt miserable.

We rode in silence for the rest of way. He pulled up to the curb outside the terminal. When he turned to me, I could have sworn his eyes were moist.

"I love you, but I can't stand to see you so unhappy. You need to confront whatever it is. If work is too much, you can find another job. If it's something else..." Tears started to well up in my own eyes. "Go now, have a good trip."

He leaned over and kissed me on the cheek. He got out of the car and put my bags on the sidewalk. I patted his arm and said good-bye. He didn't linger; he got in the car and I watched him drive off.