CHAPTER 2: ACCEPTANCE
The next morning, I didn't know what to expect. And I certainly didn't understand these feelings I had toward Mr. Washburn and my willingness to accept whatever he said or did. It had been completely out of character for him to touch me like he had and it was equally out of my own character to allow myself to accept it without total control of the situation. All of my 'adventures' had been under my control. I had controlled everything from the men, the locations, and the activities. Yet, yesterday I had quietly accepted his gentle advances ... if that was what they were.
After showering and fixing my hair and makeup, I deliberated on what to wear. It wasn't the office but it was Mr. Washburn. I finally decided on a business-casual skirt that fell inches above the knee and a buttoned-up, short-sleeved, white blouse. I chose a white lace bra and pantie set, which was basic but pretty. I went with no stockings and medium heels.
I checked myself in the mirror and was pleased with the result. It was a nice balance but was missing something. I put on some earrings as a touch of flash to appear underneath my free-hanging hair. And then I felt silly. This was simply another meeting with him, why all the fussing?
I checked my watch and saw it was almost 9:00. I slid my briefcase and purse over my left shoulder and left the apartment. As I exited the elevator, I saw the black limousine parked at the curb and a large black man leaning against the side.
As I moved through the building's main entrance, the man opened the rear passenger door. The closer I got to him, the more imposing he seemed. He was dressed in black kaki slacks, a black golf-style shirt that displayed his massive arms and chest, and functional, heavy shoes. His head was nearly bald it was cut so short and I guessed him to be a full foot taller than me at 6' 4" and probably 230 pounds of muscle.
I smiled at him, "I hope I haven't kept you waiting."
He returned a disarming smile while his eyes continued to scan the street, sidewalks, and building entrances on both sides. "You are exactly on time, ma'am." Once inside the car and pulling away from the curb, "My name is Robert, Dr. Trent. Mr. Washburn's driver, protection, estate manager, etc. ... one of two of us."
My God ... there are two of these guys?
He drove west out of the city on the Interstate, then took an exit going north on a state road for a while before turning west, again, on a county road. It was about an hour in total but we were in rural country and probably in the next county given how quickly we left the city and suburbs behind. It was so peaceful and serene, a stark and sudden change from the hectic pace of the city we seemed to have just left. When he signaled his next turn, I couldn't see the turn ahead for all the foliage and trees. He turned into a narrow, pave driveway that wound into the trees for a couple hundred yards before coming to a securely fenced and gated estate. Robert lowered the sun visor and pressed a button that could have been for a garage door, but it opened the gate slowly, swinging to each side.
Robert watched them outside his window, then looked in the rearview mirror at me. "Mr. Washburn got them about three months ago. It was a surprise and unexpected by James and I. We never thought of him as a dog-guy. Just shows, I guess, there is always something to learn about someone." As we continued to the mansion-like house ahead, "They came very well training. They rarely bark except when they get very excited and usually only when they sense something on the property. Usually it is a possum, raccoon, deer or something like that. The security is very tight on the property."
When I exited the car after it stopped at the front door of the house, I turned at the sound of the front door opening to find another large black man. As I approached, it was clear he was a couple inches taller than Robert and proportionally large, his arms and chest also filling out the same black shirt impressively.
"Welcome, Dr. Trent. Mr. Washburn is expecting you inside."
I smiled at him and put out my hand, which he carefully took in his massive grip. "You must be James." And I felt the same tingle as when I watched Robert. I stopped at the door and looked at both of them. "Did you two play in the pros?"
James looked at Robert and they both chuckled. "Yes, he was a defensive end and I was an outside linebacker, but that was four years ago. We started with Mr. Washburn about a year later when we became bored." I nodded and let James lead me through the house.
James knocked on a door that turned out to be Mr. Washburn's home office. I stepped inside and heard the door close behind me. Mr. Washburn rose and strode across the room in long, confident strides to meet me with a heartfelt hug that, again, took me by surprise but I willingly returned the hug to him while feeling a comfort settling over me.
He was anxious to discuss the next direction of the project and he again focused on the likelihood that working on the element of male enhancement might be aided by the successful work of male performance.
We were sitting side-by-side on the couch in front of the wall of books with my notes and data spread over the coffee table in front of us. I turned slightly towards him, "Sir, as I said before, I really think we need to verify that one part truly does work before we rely on it for the next part."
His leg was pressed into mine and a fair amount of my legs were shown under the loose skirt I was wearing. "So ... you want to evaluate my ... responsiveness after the injection." It wasn't really a question but I nodded the affirmative, anyway.
"Unless you think you can just tell me there has been a change?"
He smiled, "Oh, I think it best that you determine the results for yourself rather than my evaluation clouding your impression. After all, you made the pre-injection evaluation personally." I didn't look at him. I just blushed. I remembered that all too well. He stood up and pushed the coffee table away to give us some room, then turned to face me. "Doctor ..."
