It was just before three on a boring Friday afternoon in late July. Except for our secretary, and one of my assistants, I was the only one in the office. For most of the day, I had been kept busy reading the bored minutes from a client my team and I were about to audit. Each meeting was a bad case of S.S.D.D. (same shit, different day). By lunch time, I was ready to fall asleep. By two thirty, I couldn't think about anything beyond the cryptic message Aaron had left on my voice mail asking if I was up for a weekend of fun-and-games.
"Jaime asked me to give you this. The courier service just dropped it off."
The sound of Rachel's voice shattered the tedium.
"Who's it from?" I asked.
My assistant checked the return address on the manila envelope, and smiled. "Aaron."
Rachel is a newlywed. Twenty-three years old and naive as hell when it comes to sex. By choice, she had remained a virgin until marriage. Considering all the nasty little (and not so little) things playing-the-field can get you now a days, this fact is not so shocking. What is extremely disquieting, however, is her overall lack of knowledge about all things carnal.
Case in point. Four months after she and Jeff had gotten married, she came to me with a question.
"Last night, Jeff asked if I was willing to let him take my backdoor." She began.
"So what did you tell him?" I asked.
"I told him I'd think about it. I was too embarrassed to tell him I didn't know what it was he wanted to do."
Without further prompting, I translated: "He wants to have anal sex with you. You know; fuck you up your ass?"
Once the initial shock wore off, she asked if Jeff's request was "normal" and if Aaron and I had ever tried it. I told her yes to both, and that not only had Aaron and I tried it, but that it had become a regular – though not too regular – part of our repertoire . . . along with other things.
Since that day, Rachel and I have talked often and open about our respective sex lives. She's still a bit reluctant to spontaneously agree to Jeff's requests; but she's getting better. As for why she smiled when she saw the envelope was from Aaron; well, perhaps I've told her a bit too much.
On with the story.
Once Rachel had gone back to her office, I opened the envelope and took out the single sheet of paper within. I read: "If you want to play, turn off your cell phone, now. Leave work at exactly three thirty, go to your car and check your cell phone for messages. Do exactly as you're told. If you don't want to play, call my cell phone now. If I don't hear from you by three fifteen, I'll take it to mean that you accept my terms and will do exactly as you are told. Remember; three fifteen."
Without hesitation, I reached into my purse, took out my cell phone and turned it off.
The next forty eight minutes seemed longer than had the entire day. Finally! It was three thirty. I turned off my office lights and made my exit. As I passed Rachel's office I leaned in.
"Looks like you were right." I said.
"Have fun."
"You better believe it!"
I got into the car, started the engine and turned on the air conditioner. I took out my cell phone and turned it on. It beeped. I pressed the button to check for messages. "Last chance to call me and back out." Aaron's voice cautioned. "Okay. Here's what I want you to do. In the trunk of your car is an old audit case. It's locked. I'll give you the combination later. When you're done listening to this message, I want you to turn off your cell phone and drive to WalMart. When you get there, turn your cell phone back on and check for messages again."
I turned off my cell phone and retrieved the audit case from the trunk. Ten minutes later, I was in the WalMart parking lot. Once more I took out my cell phone and turned it on. Once more, it beeped. I pressed the button to check for messages. "I'll give you the combination in a moment. What I want you to do next is this. First, take the case and go into WalMart and find the ladies restroom. Once in there, go into the handicapped stall and strip naked. Put on only what's in the case. Second, go back to the car and put the case back in the trunk. Third, go to the newsstand and buy a copy of Playboy. Fourth, go to the Pharmacy Shoppe and buy a box of condoms. Fifth, go to Lacie's Lingerie and buy five large silk scarves. Last, go back to your car and check your messages. That's it. Turn off your cell phone and get going. Oh, yeah. Seven, one, nine."
Once more I turned off my cell phone. That done, I wasted little time dialing-in the combination. I could only imagine what Aaron had packed for me, but I was pretty sure it was going to be good. I was right. Inside the case, on top, was a pale blue, strapless, wonder bra from Victoria's Secret. Beneath that, a short, white camisole. Beneath that, a pair of white stockings and a black-leather micro-mini skirt. And on the bottom, a pair of six-inch, black, high-heel sandals. (No panties.)
As I carefully re-packed the outfit Aaron had bought for me, I couldn't help but think about the fact that (had it been much more revealing), I would probably get picked up for indecent exposure.
For a long moment I considered backing out. Why? Well, although I am not the least bit shy about wearing sexy clothes when Aaron and I got out for the evening, this was different. I mean, consider the list of errands I had been given: buy a copy of Playboy, a box of condoms and five silk scarves from a lingerie store. It was three forty five in the afternoon! Dressed like that, I was definitely going to stand out!
The ladies room was vacant when I went in. I stepped into the handicapped stall and quickly closed and locked the door. Safe from public view, I set the audit case on the toilet and folded down the baby-changing table. Footsteps outside the door. I held my breath and waited. The door to the men's room opened and then closed. Quickly, I unbuttoned my blouse and took it off. I folded it once, then laid it on the changing table. With less urgency, I unzipped my skirt, stepped out of it and put it on top of my blouse. Next, I took off my bra and tossed it onto the pile. I hooked my thumbs in the waistband of my french-cut panties and began sliding them down my hips.
More footsteps. The door opened and two women came in. I froze. As quietly as I could, I set the audit case on the floor and sat down on the toilet. I was completely naked. Except for my flats. My heart pounded as one of the women took the stall next to mine. The dividers were tall; but were they tall enough? What if she decided to look over the top?
The second woman began talking to the first. Planning their shopping strategy. Their chatty conversation did little to allay my fear-of-discovery.
Suddenly, the air conditioner kicked on. An ice cold blast of air cascaded over me. Instantly, my nipples began to stiffen from the cold. Within no time they were jutting out their full one-inch length. Images of high-school phys-ed flashed through my mind. The embarrassing stares I always got when the locker room was a little on the chilly side. The embarrassment.
An eternity passed. Finally, the restroom door opened. The two women left. Relief washed over me. A warm wet rush filled the toilet. I reached for the toilet paper and dried myself.
I stood and kicked off my shoes and panties. As quickly as I could, I retrieved the bra Aaron had bought me and put it on. The satin, padded cups pressed gently against my aching nipples. Even more quickly, I retrieved the skirt and camisole and put them on as well. Covered up (at last) I took my time putting on the stockings and heels.
