I'm an eternal optimist. I've always been too trusting, too caring, too giving, too honest, too loving, too naïve, just too gullible, and I'm sure that is what will be the death of me.
I'd grown up in a caring, loving Christian home, and had been taught from an early age that God's Grace was abundant and free for anyone. No hidden agendas or strings attached - FREE. All you had to do was accept it. Isn't that so against our nature, getting something for seemingly nothing? It isn't a promise of an uncomplicated life, nor an easy one, but it's a great comfort when things go a little haywire or just plain to shit.
Everyone had always told me that I was beautiful, but I never really bought into that idea. I knew I was relatively good-looking, but beautiful? NO. I had inherited my various physical attributes from my parents' combined ethnicities: long blonde hair from my Mom's Swedish genes, her blue eyes, nice ass and my mild manner temperament, too.
From my Dad's Germanic ancestry, I got my height, five foot eight, Arian nose and earlobes, but I wish I would have been lucky enough to get his family's Germanic tits. My sister did! I thought mine were woefully underwhelming, 34B. All the women on my dad’s side of the family had at least C-cups and most were D's. I'm sure they turned some heads back in their day.
True to my Germanic and Scandinavian roots, I attended a Lutheran university. You can imagine my disillusionment when I entered the workplace. Everyone, it seemed, was striving to get ahead at everyone else's expense. There was so much back-stabbing, lying and just general pettiness that I was becoming a little cynical myself about the whole work environment and was losing my faith in humankind to be God-like when it mattered.
My life changed the day I saw him walk through our office. There was something about how he carried himself. I don't think it was just me because several other women commented on his demeanor and his general aura. He had something that was magnetic, charismatic, inspiring about him and, under the surface, something a little scary.
He stopped at my desk and asked, "Miss, where is Mr. Dan Correll's office?"
He was our despot manager, a devious little fucker (only five foot two) of a man, to use the term loosely. Please excuse my language. My mom would have a cow if she knew those words came out of my mouth. However, Mr. Correll was the embodiment of everything I hated about the workplace. He was political, would lie to your face and fuck you as soon as your back was turned.
I'd heard that he was into some kinky stuff behind closed doors. He had recently gotten a divorce and it wasn't a pleasant one - child custody issues. His wife testified in court, calling him a sexual deviant because he liked to lie under their glass-top coffee table, have her squat on it and take a shit over his face while he watched and masturbated. She said he actually ate her shit. She was afraid he would pervert their daughter or worse. She won full custody.
Anyway, back to the handsome visitor, his voice was so calming that I must have looked like one of those girls in a romantic novel whose eyes roll back in her head at the sight of a suave-looking man. Zoning out for a few seconds, he had to ask me again, "Miss, where's Mr. Correll's office?"
Embarrassed, I snapped back to reality and said, "I'm so sorry. Mr. Correll's office is just down the hallway on the left." I couldn't help myself and had to watch as he strode erectly toward my boss's office.
He was my image of a man, a wonderful specimen, about six foot two with broad shoulders, a rugged square jaw, lots of straw-colored hair (maybe he had Germanic roots, too) and was dressed impeccably in a nice-looking suit.
Madge gave him the once-over and licked her lips. She was the office's fashionista and spent a lot of time commenting on everyone's attire. Her fashion advice had saved me a couple of times, and I must admit that she knew her clothes.
As my eyes were drinking in his visual pheromones, I felt an excitement flood over my body and a dampness between my legs. I'd never had a sensation like that before. Maybe it was a case of the sudden onset flu or something, but it passed in a couple of minutes.
Madge commented on our visitor's suit saying, "Do you know how much that suit cost?"
"No, but it looked nice."
She retorted with, "$3,000 - it's an Armani and those shoes probably cost another $500 and that silk tie must cost at least $150."
About fifteen minutes later, he emerged from the boss's office and headed my way again. I must have looked so stupid when he stopped at my desk. Flummoxed, I knocked over a stack of correspondence. They fluttered around like a flock of white pigeons at a Rome piazza. Madge just smirked and made a circle with her left thumb and forefinger as she poked her right index finger through it several times.
He bent down and helped me retrieve my wayward letters and said, "Mr. Correll said that you could show me where the HR conference room is."
Oh, this was wonderful. My brain harkened back to a middle school crush, Billy Giovani. I would be able to talk with him a bit longer. Eagerly I said, "Yes, I'll show you! It's a couple floors up. Let me introduce myself. I'm Abby, Abby Weiss," as I presented my hand.
Instead of shaking it, he firmly but gently grasped it, lifted it to his lips and kissed it saying, "It's lovely to meet you, Abby. Is it okay if I call you Abby?"
Flustered, I'm sure I turned yet another shade of crimson, but I stammered out, "O...h, yes, that'll be fine."
He introduced himself saying, "I'm Darrin Simon Ferris and forgive me for being so forward, but I'd like to tell you that you are a lovely woman."
"Oh my, thank you." I continued my imitation of a boiled lobster, stuttering my reply, "It’s nice... to meet you..., too, Mr. Ferris."
"Please call me Darrin, Ms. Abby." He flashed a commercial-worthy smile as his blue eyes sparkled while saying my name. My panties got wet.
He had a nice baritone voice that sounded like that sexy midnight radio DJ you've heard. It was melodic and hypnotic. It had a quality about it that made you listen intently and believe everything he said. At that moment, I would have believed the sky was green if he would have said it.
We continued talking all the way to the HR conference room. He was easy to talk with. I felt like a schoolgirl smitten with her teacher just blathering nonsensical phrases, gushing over his every word, which felt childish, sophomoric and so unprofessional.
We arrived at the HR conference room and the HR manager met us. It was apparent that Mr. Ferris was someone important and, in my opinion, a very lovely man.
Making it back to my desk, the first words out of Madge's mouth were, "Did you fuck him on the elevator?"
"No! Why would you even say something like that?" I replied incongruously.
"By the way you were looking at him and acting, I thought you'd be pregnant by now. I bet he has a big cock to go with that great body and his 'Marlborough Man' looks," she replied.
I scolded her saying, "Sex... is that the only thing you ever think of?"
She replied indignantly, "No, there's clothes, too."
We both settled back at our desks and finished our day's work.
When I got back to my apartment, I decided to take a warm bath to relax and release some of the day's tensions. The water was pleasantly warm, almost hot. As I lay there, my mind wouldn't stop thinking about Mr. Ferris... Darrin. I began to imagine his big hands taking hold of me and caressing my face as he slid his fingers over my lips and stroked my hair while pressing his manly body up against mine.
It felt so real. That meditation course was really paying off. My right hand slipped under the water between my legs while the left one found my right nipple. I very seldom masturbate, but I needed to do it tonight. Oh, my god, the excitement hadn't felt that good in a long time. My imagination was pushing all my sexual buttons and provided the exact setting and dialogue to make me pliant to this gossamery seduction. I could hear myself saying these words out loud, "Oh, yes, Darrin, just like that. Make me cum."
Nearly half of the tub's contents splashed out as I shook in the most violent orgasm I'd had in several years. Staggering out of the tub, I saw myself in the mirror. My face was flushed with one more erubescent shade for the day. Maybe it was from the water's temperature, but I knew better.
In my mind, Mr. Ferris spent the night with me as my fingers became his, and there were so many orgasms that I had to change the sheets. Nothing or no one had ever affected me so profoundly in that way before. What was it about this man that had taken over my imagination? I slept soundly, like getting a Michael Jackson dose of Propofol.
The next morning, as I was putting on my lipstick, I thought of him again. I could smell my scent still on my fingers as I visualized him inhaling my sacred place's aroma just as I was. I could see his cock getting hard as his nostrils sucked my essence into his olfactory memory.
"Abby, you have to stop this! For God's sake, you only spent ten minutes with this man. What the fuck are you doing? You may never see him again and besides, even if you did, he wouldn't give you a second thought. Stop it! Stop it right now!" I said as I tried to snap myself back to reality.
Once I was at work, I still had a difficult time concentrating, so I decided to talk with my HR friend, Peggy, who is about my age, to see if I could learn anything more about Mr. Ferris. I gave her a call and we met in the lunchroom for some break time coffee and conversation, which began with this question.
"Did you get to meet Mr. Ferris yesterday?"
"Oh, yes, I did. Isn't he a dreamboat?"
"Yes. He looked very nice," I answered, trying to keep my excitement level in check.
"Do you want to know what I found out about him?"
"I'd be interested in getting the lowdown," I nonchalantly answered.
"Well, he's going to be our newest and youngest Vice President. They'll announce it tomorrow. He'll be our bosses' boss, so we'll get to see him around the office every day. Isn't that great?"
"Yes, that'll be nice, but what else did you find out? I know you've got everyone's records. Give me the dirt, girl," as I probed for more.
"Ok, but you can't tell anyone else, or I could get in real trouble," she replied.
"Yes, yes, of course, I won't say anything," I reassured her.
"Ok. For starters, he's only thirty-four. Single. Handsome..."
Interrupting, "Yeah, yeah, we both know that. Go on. Go on."
"He's six foot three, weighs 225 pounds, has blue eyes and blond hair. He's been with the company about ten years. He graduated from a small liberal arts college in Minnesota called St. Olaf with a BA in Economics and has an MBA from the University of Minnesota. He was captain of the baseball and debate teams at St. Olaf's, too.
He's been promoted really fast to get this high in the company already. If you're really good, it usually takes about twenty years to get to VP. I know he's all about getting the most out of his people and has been really successful doing that without being an asshole like your boss. His employees all say wonderful things about him, even the CEO likes him.
Doesn't he have a beautiful smile? It just makes you believe he cares about you," Peggy said, as her voice drifted off with a sigh.
"Peggy, Peggy, back to reality. What else have you got?" I demanded.
"His apartment is in the high-rise just down the street. It's not the penthouse, but it's way up there. He could zip-line to work. Wouldn't that be cool?" she said in an imaginary tone.
I knew I was losing her, so we just sipped our coffee and finished up with some chit-chat. As we were departing, she volunteered, "Oh, yes, he'll start here next Monday. Bye."
I returned to my desk with all kinds of thoughts running through my mind. Would he stop by my desk again? Where would his office be? Would he even remember me? Why was I kidding myself? I'm just another face in the office crowd. He won't remember me from Eve.
Monday arrived and the CEO called a company meeting in the auditorium for 10AM - the subject - our new VP. He introduced Mr. Ferris, ...Darrin, and read the bio about him and his accomplishments. He really was something special at our company.
Mr. Ferris stood up to address the group. Once he began speaking, you could tell why he was where he was. He was confident, eloquent, polished, and oh so good-looking. I think half the women at the meeting would have thrown their panties at the podium if he would have fucked them. He was a rock star in our business. What a handsome man in every sense of the word.
The rest of the week was 'things as usual', but the following Monday, we all got an email from the new VP's secretary saying that she would schedule a one-on-one meeting with each of us and Mr. Ferris. Well, at least I'd get to see him one more time before I sank into obscurity.
Madge's VP meeting was scheduled before mine, so I pumped her for information when she returned to her desk. "Well, what did he want to know?"
"He asked about what my job was; how I thought he could make my job easier; what my biggest safety concern and biggest work pet peeves were... There were a few get-to-know-you questions and then he asked what I thought about Mr. Correll."
"Did you tell him the truth?"
"It just slipped out. Mr. Ferris is so easy to talk to that you forget he's a VP. What a nice man. I think he really wants to make our jobs easier," she exclaimed with some astonishment. "When are you going?"
"Friday, just before quitting time."
Friday finally arrived. Normally, several of us go out for lunch on Fridays, but this Friday, I had packed a lunch and found myself in the lunchroom, chatting with Peggy when Mr. Ferris walked in. Every eye in the place looked his way. He stopped at every table and greeted everyone while exchanging pleasantries with his employees.
He approached our table and said, "Well, if it isn’t Peggy Mallory and Abby Weiss. How are you two lovely ladies doing this fine day?"
He flashed that wonderful smile as his hand reached out for ours. A jolt of energy raced through me when our hands clasped, and his blues lit up. We sputtered out our answers and fielded a few more mundane questions.
"Abby, I'm looking forward to our meeting this afternoon. I'll see you then. Have a great rest of your day," he said as he was leaving.
I couldn't believe he remembered my name. He remembered my name. Here's a man I could fall for, but I was getting way ahead of myself.
My appointment was scheduled for 4:45PM. When I arrived, his secretary said that Mr. Ferris was running a little late and she would reschedule me if I wanted.
I replied, "No, no, that's OK. I'll just wait."
A little after 5PM, he wrapped up with that person and emerged from his office.
"It looks like we saved the best for last," he quipped with a broad smile.
His secretary said, "Mr. Ferris, my husband called a few minutes ago saying he can't pick up our son from soccer practice. Do you mind if I leave now?"
Looking my way, "Abby, would it be OK if she left? I don't want to make you feel uncomfortable."
How could I say no? I so wanted to talk to him, even if it was about work. "It's OK with me. I'm sure you've got dinner to deal with, too," I replied.
"Thank you so much. You're both the best."
He invited me into his corner office. His desk was about twice the size of mine. He had a small round table surrounded by three chairs next to the window that looked out on the city below. The walls had several paintings and a photograph – a sunset on a tropical beach with billowy clouds and streaks of the sun's last light, a Remington wild horse scene painting, another of a snow-capped, mountain lake scene with fall-colored trees, and one with several children playing 'Ring around the Rosy'.
His office was immaculate - everything in its place. It shouted that a man in control lived here. I settled into the chair across from his desk.
"Let's sit at the table. We can enjoy the view while we talk."
He was treating me as his equal. What a very smart and nice man. No wonder his employees loved him.
The first words out of his mouth were, "I'd like to apologize for embarrassing you when we first met. That was totally inappropriate and unprofessional. However, in my defense, you are a very lovely woman."
I was taken aback by his apology and floundered to get my reply out. I couldn't believe that the truth spilled out, "I was very flattered by your boldness. I guess you're a man who takes what he wants." Immediately, I regretted what I had said and wanted it back.
He smiled. "I, too, am flattered by your boldness and honesty. There wasn't one person I've talked to this week that would have said that. Thank you for your truthfulness and not placating me. I need someone like that to keep me grounded. You know it's easy to lose your perspective when people always tell you what they think you want to hear."
He asked, and I answered all his questions, even the one about what I thought about Mr. Correll. It was almost 6:30PM when he asked, "Do you have any questions for me?"
Again, my mouth beat my brain to the punch as I blurted out, "Are you Lutheran?"
"Well, aren't you just full of surprises? You know, technically, you shouldn't be asking that, and I certainly couldn't ask that of you. However, I'll answer it for you... Yes," he replied. "Why do you want to know?"
"Well, you went to St. Olaf and are from Minnesota. I just thought you might be. I'm Lutheran, too," I explained.
It was totally unexpected, as he countered with, "If we're going to discuss personal matters, we'll have to do it away from the office. Since I've kept you so late, can I buy you dinner? You'll have to pick the place because I'm too new to the area. I've found the neighborhood Wendy's, though."
Had I just talked myself into a date with the new VP? "Have you had a good steak yet?"
"No, good steak places are hard to come by. Is there one nearby?"
Being bold again, I responded, "It's only a couple of blocks from here." My brain was shouting, "No, no, no, don't say it. Don't say it."
However, "I'd be delighted to have dinner with you... Darrin," came out anyway.
"You remembered. Thank you for being honest and human. To be truthful, sometimes it gets lonely being in charge and responsible for all of you." Mr. Ferris was like all of us, too, human.
We proceeded down to my desk, and the place was deserted. Our floor doesn't get a lot of overtime, so people leave at precisely 5PM, and besides, it was Friday.
The janitors were already at work doing their thing. I got my purse and coat, and we began the long elevator ride down. My self-confidence dropped with every floor. I could feel the pressure building. I was losing my nerve and began to regret saying I'd go. It was so out of character for me.
Just then, he turned and looked directly into my eyes and said, "Abby, don't be nervous. I'm a person just like anyone else. I put my pants on one leg at a time. Let's just relax and enjoy each other's company for dinner. OK?"
He knew exactly what I needed to hear. I was so relieved by his empathy for my situation. That had broken the awkward silence and a conversational flood began. We talked all the way to the restaurant. He wanted to know everything about me, like I was the important person.
Knowing I might have something that he wanted, and oh, how would I love to give it to him, to have him take it. But can it be taken if I wanted to give it to him? I'm sure you've felt this way before. It's the 'no' means 'yes' thing. It would be so much easier if a woman could say, Just fuck me, already. You know what I mean.
Dinner was delightful and scrumptious. It was nearly 8PM when we left and began heading back toward the office. He said, "Would you like to see my apartment? We're going to walk right past it."
Again, without thinking, I blurted out, "That would be lovely. I heard it's got a great view of the city."
"And exactly how do you know it's got a great view?"
I couldn't out Peggy, so I thought the bold approach would be best, saying, "You see, I'm a very well-connected woman. If I see something I want, I take it!" That was totally untrue and laughable, but it was out there and it was too late to undo it.
He laughed saying, "Well, Ms. Abby Weiss, you are one of a kind. I like your style."
When he laughed, his eyes lit up and he got those little crinkle lines around them. I knew he wasn't faking it. I loved that.
We took the elevator up to his apartment. It was on the 45th floor. The penthouse was five floors higher. He opened the door and we stepped in. It was huge. My whole apartment would fit in his living room. It did have a beautiful view of the city and like his office, everything was in its place just so.
We sat on the leather sofa, drank some wine and talked until about 10PM before I said, "Darrin, I've had a wonderful evening and I've enjoyed learning about you, but I need to get back to my place."
With a tone of regret, "Do you really have to go?"
This time, I was determined to let my brain think before I spoke. "Mmm..., I'm afraid so, but we can do this again."
"Well, OK, if that's the way it's going to be, then I guess I'll have to accept it this time," he replied while walking me to the door. "I'd love to walk you down."
Summing up all my fortitude, I answered, "No, that's fine. My car is parked in the garage just across the street."
We got to the door, and as I took the first step out, his hand clasped my right arm, spun me around, took me in his arms and kissed me.
Oh my god, electricity shot through me like I was sitting in 'old sparky'. My toes curled up in my heels. My panties were instantaneously wet. I felt like a stick of al dente spaghetti in his arms.
He was a wonderful kisser. He pulled me close with his strong hand on the small of my back. I felt helpless and safe at the same time. It was the most beautiful sensation of my life. What a cosmic rush!
