Ordinary

I'm not being boastful when I say this because it was not something that I had anything to do with or earned, but I, Walter James, am a very handsome, trim guy. I do work out so I stay trim but it is only by the luck of birth that I am good looking. Some people think that they somehow "earned" the right to be born good looking and become arrogant, haughty, or even pompous. I hate those people and have spent the better part of my life distancing myself from them. Unfortunately two of them are my brother and one of my two sisters. They didn't do anything more to deserve being born good looking than I did yet they seem to think that their shit doesn't smell because of it. Fortunately my youngest sister, Kerri, is like me and knows that she did nothing to deserve her good looks and never unfairly uses her looks to her advantage.

I remember the first time that I declined to unfairly use my good looks to get an advantage. It was during a fourth grade class when I was chosen as the fourth grade representative to read a poem that I had written at an all school assembly. I had "won" the contest for the best fourth grade poem even though it was clear to me that the supposed second place finisher -- a thin very ordinary looking girl named Susan Clarke -- had done a significantly better job. I went to the principal's office (herself a good looking woman) and told her that Susan should present her poem at the school assembly, not me. When she questioned me I was honest about the reason. The principal was not inclined to change things so I told her that I would not be at school the day of the assembly when the contest winners would be reading their poems and that she better have Susan Clarke ready.

"You can't skip school, Walter. I would have to call your parents in for a meeting and maybe even suspend you for a few days if you did," she sternly said.

"You have to do what you feel is necessary," I calmly replied, "but you should have Susan prepared." I left the principal with a stern look on her face. After school I went up to Susan and said "Susan I will not be here the day of the assembly; I hope that you will be ready to present your poem because you will have to take my place."

Susan got the strangest look on her face and said "But you won the competition."

"But you DESERVED to win it," I replied.

I skipped school the day of the assembly; I heard that Susan did a great job and that her poem was the best of anyone's in any of grades one through six. The principal did call my parents in, but didn't suspend me. After that the fourth grade teachers, the principal, and Susan looked at me much differently. I don't think the teachers and principal liked essentially being told that they chose me just because of my looks, but I didn't really care and continued to treat them as nicely as I had before even if sometimes my niceness wasn't returned. Susan always looked at me funny after that -- not nasty, but seemingly truly confused -- all through elementary school and then High School.

************

While I had many incidents similar to the one with Susan Clarke in elementary school through college -- none as dramatic since I learned how to be subtle -- that didn't mean that I, like most men, didn't usually judge females by their looks. Given the society that we grow up in as well as normal biological attractions that we don't have control over, I dated only good looking girls. Some had pleasant personalities and I dated them for a while, those that turned out to be entitled or pretentious I jettisoned quickly.

The fact that I dated only good looking girls/women did not mean that I ignored or was rude to plain, or even ugly, women. I was nice to all even though most of the plain women, and all of the ugly ones, seemed to be uncomfortable around me, almost because since I was good looking I must have some ulterior motive for being nice to them since most handsome guys were not.

************

After college I was working as a paralegal in the large law firm Gromley Pettis while going to law school at night when I met Cynthia Astor the adult daughter of the CEO of a long-standing firm client. She may have been the best looking woman I had ever seen live in my life. While I understand that different guys have different preferences so who is best looking to one guy may be just nice looking to another, since I was 18 I have always had a fascination with newscaster Norah O'Donnell. Cynthia could have been Norah's younger, more buxom, sister. She is a year younger than I am and was at the meeting with her father for a personal matter.

The partner in charge of the client had me in the meeting only because even though I was not a lawyer I had developed some expertise in matters relating to stalking, and in fact during the second semester of my first year in law school (I was then in my second semester of my second year) I had actually taken an elective where stalking, cyberstalking, and Internet and social media problems were the essence of the course.

Cynthia (never "Cindy") was dealing with what she and her father -- and I had to agreed -- was a fairly serious issue of cyberstalking. The partner in charge was not someone with an over-inflated ego and once I made some very relevant comments about the situation he let me take over. Cynthia reacted very favorably to what I had to say and after about thirty minutes she asked her father and the partner to leave the room so that she could talk to me in private. They did without complaint.

In private Cynthia told me some disturbing things that she was reluctant to tell her father since she knew that he would go ballistic. After another half hour I had a plan of how to proceed and laid it out for her; She was very happy with it. As she was getting up to leave we exchanged cell phone numbers and she gave me an inappropriately long and intense hug. Embarrassingly my little soldier responded, and she couldn't help but feel it.

Things worked out well for me. I was able to fool the cyber stalker into revealing his identity, had him arrested, and served him with a killer of a lawsuit using a few grounds that had never been tested in court but were extremely promising. While of course I couldn't handle the civil case in court since I was not yet an attorney I prepared all of the papers and walked the partner through every stage. We got the best possible result when we got a judgment that wiped the cyber stalker out financially and he fled the country to Russia to escape his criminal trial. Unfortunately for him the Russians promptly threw him in jail for something that he had done a few years back that he thought that they had forgotten -- they had not.

During the course of the case I had lots of contact, both by phone and in person, with Cynthia. I got the impression that she really liked me, and of course I was continuously blown away by her Norah O'Donnell looks and even mannerisms. Also, whenever her father Reginald Astor was in our office he made a point of saying "Hi" to me, which did not go unrecognized by the partners of Gromley Pettis.

When the matter with the cyber stalker was concluded Reginald wrote a letter to the leadership committee of Gromley Pettis that was full of compliments. Reading it one would think that I was the best thing since gluten-free pasta. While before the letter I had a 90% chance of being asked to be an associate once I graduated from law school, after it I had a 100% chance.

Shortly after the letter was received and the managing partner gave me a significant bonus Reginald called me. After I thanked him profusely and we engaged in a little small talk (highly unusual for a CEO to chat with a paralegal) he got to the point.

"Walter, do paralegals have the same ethical situations with dating clients as attorneys do?"

While I wasn't prepared for that question, I knew the answer since it was covered in the Ethics course I took in law school the previous semester. "Not in our state, or most other states that I know of, Mr. Astor."

"Great. I think that you should call Cynthia and ask her out on a date. You don't need to tell her but the night is on me whatever the cost. Just call my assistant Gloria and tell her the cost and she'll send you a check."

"I...I...would love to have a date with Cynthia. She is an intelligent and charming woman; however, I can't accept you paying for it."

"I insist, Walter. I'll be very disappointed if you don't call Gloria."

"Are you sure that Cynthia will go out with me?"

"Ha -- that's really funny Walter. One day I'm certain that you'll be a great lawyer -- a judge of women you apparently are not. Make the call," he said and then with a chuckle terminated the call.

I did call Cynthia and asked her out.

She did accept.

I told her that I was selecting the days' activities and to wear casual clothes and bring some clothes changes and that I'd pick her up on Saturday at 11:00 a. m.

She seemed excited.

**************

My date with Cynthia was my best ever up to that point in my life. We did things I had rarely done with dates before, and to be honest I was testing her to see how "normal" a person she could be since she was brought up in the lap of luxury (her father Reginald Astor was #98 on the Forbes list of the 100 wealthiest Americans). We played paint ball, went to the zoo, went on a wilderness hike, ate dinner at a local place similar to the Olive Garden, went line dancing while we drank beer, and went night kayaking in a double kayak at a local lake at 11:00 p. m.

When we got back to her luxury apartment after midnight we were both tired but laughing at every stupid thing the other said. As I took her keys from her and opened up the front door to her place she stared straight into my eyes looking just like I imagined that Norah O'Donnell would have looked at her age after more than twelve hours of activity, and then figuratively hit me between the eyes. "Do you think that fatigue is an aphrodisiac?"

Despite my fatigue my cock was answering "Yes," and I thought it best to go ahead and agree with my little head rather than try to think with my big head. When I responded "Hell yes," she planted a smothering kiss on my.

I picked her up, carried her into her apartment, and knocked the door closed with a backward kick of my left foot. "Carry me to the shower," she mumbled as she planted quick kisses on my lips, cheeks, and neck. I had no reason to argue.

We made quick work of our clothes, not being particularly careful about whether any fabric ripped or buttons popped, got clean in her large ornate shower stall primarily from osmosis more than actual washing since soap wasn't often in our hands while we were mauling each other, and barely dried off when we exited.

I carried her to her bed -- she seemed to like being man handled -- threw her on it, and then dove into her pussy. I was so excited it seemed that my tongue was as long and muscular as a lizard's as I abused her labia with it while trying to agitate her G-spot with my fingers. She had one nice orgasm before I started working on her clit. When I sucked it like I was trying to completely drain a 16 ounce Coke with a straw she screamed in orgasm, shivered like she had stepped out into the Artic while naked, and then promptly passed out.

I clawed at her tits and slurped her nipples until she woke up. Once she came to and was half grinning, half sneering, at me I buried my tool in one deliberate forceful penetration. She let out a groan that sounded as erotic as I felt as my cock pushed into her, and it wasn't more than two dozen powerful strokes later -- all the while with her scraping my back like she was a cat at a scratching pole -- before I looked her in the eye. Fuck, she looked like Norah O'Donnell, causing me to ejaculate a series of powerful streams into her tight chamber.

The climax that followed rocked my world, and turned Cynthia into a blubbering blob of protoplasm. I eventually withdrew, she glommed onto me burying her face in my chest, and we both passed out.

That night was the sexual highlight of my life up until that point. Only looking back on it clinically after the passage of a significant period of time did I come to view it differently.

When I did call Gloria up two days later and told her that my date with Cynthia cost $89.54 she thought that I was joking. Reginald called me two days later and said "Cynthia told me that she had the best time ever on her all day date with you. What's this bologna that it cost only $89.54?"

"Fun and money don't have a direct correlation, Mr. Astor. Also, I didn't feel right about charging you for gas. $89.54 is what it cost."

I heard him chuckle as he hung up. Two days later I received a check for $200 with a humorous note that said "My bank won't honor a check from me for less than $200, so you'll have to lump it."

While he never brought it up again I know that that exchange cemented in Reginald's mind that I was the right guy for his daughter.

***********

I was surprised at how quickly things moved between me and Cynthia. They were certainly helped along by both of her parents. Her father Reginald considered me a fucking genius (I was not) and liked the fact that although I came from an upper middle class family I wasn't filthy rich like most of his daughter's former boyfriends were, and he considered me a very positive influence on Cynthia because I was as stable and unpretentious as anyone he had ever met and he felt that she needed someone to curb some of her wild instincts.

Cynthia's mother Rose liked me primarily because I was so handsome, leading me to believe that she was the type of shallow person I usually tried to avoid. However, she was always nice to me, she was nice to the servants and most normal people that she came in contact with when I was around, so I gave her a break, and was as kind and sweet to her as she was to me.

I had rewarding sex with Cynthia during our world wind courtship. I had known her five months before we started dating, but we only dated for six months before we married. I made it clear to Reginald shortly after my first sexual encounter with Cynthia that if our relationship progressed I wanted a prenup where if we split I got nothing from her. "That's what I would expect from you Walter, even though I would like to be very generous if you and Cynthia ever get together. However, I know what kind of guy you are, and I won't embarrass you by trying to talk you into something else. I do want you to know, however, that if things between you two progress I would be honored to have you as my son-in-law."

That was nice to hear.

There were few cautionary voices when I announced to my friends and family that Cynthia and I were getting serious. My pretentious brother and sister were thrilled -- having a tangential relationship to the Astor family confirmed in their minds that they were really hot shit and that the world owed them something because of how beautiful they were.

My parents liked Reginald a lot, and had no issue with Rose, although my Mom was slightly miffed that after our engagement announcement Rose never consulted her about anything to do with the wedding.

Most of my guy friends were envious; they knew of my fascination with Norah O'Donnell and patted me on the back for getting a younger more buxom version of her.

One of the few people that waved a yellow flag, however, was one of the people I most respected in the world -- my younger unpretentious beautiful sister Kerri. "Dude, are you sure that she's right for you? Are you more than just enamored with her because she looks like your celebrity flame Norah? Does she have the same passion for life that you do? Does she have any interests in common with you?"

I answered Kerri's questions to my satisfaction, not hers. During our courtship Cynthia seemed to like hiking, kayaking, line dancing, and similar all-American activities. The possibility that that might change once we were married didn't make its way into my pea brain.

The wedding was much more ostentatious than I would have liked, along with 480 of our "closest friends" (most of whom I had never met, but who the Astors just had to invite and since they were paying the entire fare and Cynthia was fine with it, it was not appropriate to object). They let my family invite whomever they wanted. My pretentious brother and sister brought dates they wanted to impress. Beautiful Kerri came alone, although she later wished that she hadn't because at the reception she must have been hit on by a dozen guys who had been born with silver spoons in their mouths; not her type.

I completed night law school within six months of getting married, passed the bar on the first try, and was immediately welcomed into Gromley Pettis as an associate as soon as I was sworn in. I did very well because I seemed to have a real aptitude and zeal for litigation.

What did not go as well was my marriage.

First of all, Cynthia's enjoyment of hiking, kayaking, line dancing, and similar activities seemed to vanish as soon as the wedding ring was placed on her finger.

Also, Cynthia couldn't understand why I had to work and finish law school at night; she didn't understand why I had to study for the bar on several Saturdays before the exam; and she didn't understand why I had to work hard as an associate attorney. I found out too late that Cynthia never actually worked at a real job in her life. Her "job" when we were married was part-time at one of the charities that Rose ran. A common refrain was "Why don't you get a job as an in-house attorney at one of daddy's companies so you don't have to work hard."

"Because that wouldn't be rewarding for me, and I'm not going to be beholden to your family. You knew who and what I was when you married me; why can't you accept it?"

While the discord didn't carry over into the bedroom, after about a year of marriage it suddenly dawned on me what was off. While I had always enjoyed sex with Cynthia I suddenly realized that most of our sexual relations were me pleasing her, not vice versa. I had been happy with that, without actually noticing it, because to me she always looked like Norah O'Donnell, who I was still fascinated with, and there was no way that I couldn't be happy about almost daily fucking my fantasy woman.

***************

Things changed dramatically one weekend when we had been married nineteen months. By that time I had already been second chair during three important trials, had actually won two simple trials that I essentially handled myself with only paralegal help, and was going to be second chair in a case that eight attorneys and four paralegals were working on that would be one of the most important trials in Grimley Pettis' history. On Friday the entire litigation team had to travel out-of-state for the trial in Federal Court in Texas which was due to start Monday. The trial was expected to last two weeks, and depending upon how things went we may or may not be able to come home the weekend between the two weeks of trial.

Cynthia was surprisingly upbeat on the day before I left. I expected her to be in a funk and pouting. The fact that she was not, and the fact that she actually put some effort into our sex Thursday night (since my revelation about our sexual relationship I had been noticing things more and more), actually made me suspicious.

Friday morning she gave me a steamy kiss goodbye, told me that I could call her cell anytime, and wished me well.

Something very fortuitous happened on the courthouse steps Monday morning. As we were getting ready for jury selection lead attorney for the defendant corporation, Mrs. Gina Stanton, and her second chair, came up to John Tipton (the Gromley Pettis lead attorney) and me and asked for a conference. She said that the judge had already been apprised of it and agreed to delay jury selection one hour.