Chapter 20

And in the days that followed it seemed that she had dropped off the face of the earth. She didn’t show up for her usual 2:15 snack break, I didn’t see her at lunch. I wondered if I should go over to the executive office area and check up on her, but I had no reason to be there and it might cause a problem with Clark if it got back to him.

Mostly I was a bit put off because I was looking forward to the next chapter or two, and she had forgotten to give them to me to look over.

Wednesday night, after work, I got a phone call at home from Sara.

“I was beginning to think I’d done something to upset you,” I told her.

“No, not at all, Sam. We -- Nance and I, I mean -- both agreed that we had a great time. Actually, it helped us to reconnect. In fact, that’s the reason I called. See, after you left we spent all Saturday together, reminiscing and laughing, and before we knew it, it was Sunday afternoon.

“I’d forgotten how much fun she can be and how easy we were with each other, and we got into some pretty intense conversations over those couple of days. And we came out the other side, feeling like we wanted to spend more time together. One thing led to another, and I mentioned that my lease was coming up for renewal pretty soon, and she suggested that I move in with her.

“When she said it, Sam, I realized that it felt right. At least, I think so. So we agreed to give it a try. I don’t mean just as roommates, Sam, she wants us to be partners, and I may want that, too. I feel really comfortable with her, like I don’t have to put up a front.

“I really like you, Sam, you’re smart and funny and good looking and I think you get me, but for now I think I want to try being with Nance. It might not work out, just like it didn’t when we were in college, but for now it feels like the right thing to be with her. I hope you’ll understand.”

Well, I can’t say that came completely out of left field, she certainly attracted women and was in turn attracted to them, but I had thought it more of a bi thing. This was a step further.

“Sara, I won’t lie, I’m more than a little disappointed. I loved being with you and talking to you and laughing with you, completely aside from the gorgeousness factor. I’ve been thinking a lot about you recently. But if you think this will make you happy, then I’ll wish the both of you the best of luck. And if it doesn’t work out, Sara? Promise me you’ll let me know, and maybe we could try again.”

She promised that, said goodbye and blew a little kiss over the phone. I thought there was a catch of breath there, too, like she was choking up.

I sat there with the dead phone in my hand, feeling quite alone all of a sudden. I’d really liked her and I was sad that we hadn’t gotten deeper into a relationship, but this was something she’d have to work through on her own. I was only thankful that I hadn’t talked more about her to my mother. If she had found out Sara had broken it off, she’d be sure that it was somehow my fault. I wasn’t sure how I’d explain to her that Sara had left me for another woman.

The evening, which previously promised only to be aimless and a little boring, was now becoming depressing. I found a beer in the fridge, and sat on the couch and felt sorry for myself. Several more beers didn’t make me feel any better. Eventually I found a book entertaining enough to occupy me until it was time for bed.

The next day I went in to work determined to focus entirely on research and to try to forget everything that had happened with Sara. It wasn’t entirely successful, as she’d pop into my mind unbidden. I’d read a journal article and think, “I wonder if Sara saw this. I’ll bet she’ll find it interesting.” But then I’d remember that we weren’t on that level any more.

I went out to lunch with some of the lab crew, just to avoid being alone, but come early afternoon I was snack-ish again, so I went down to the cafeteria. Honestly, I didn’t even look at the clock, my stomach just told me it was time, so I was surprised to find that it was 2:15 when I got there.

I got -- just to be different -- a bottle of fruit juice and a cup of chocolate pudding. I remembered having that as an after-school snack when I was a kid, so maybe that’s where the idea came from. I was perusing messages on my phone, when the chair across from me was pulled back and I looked up to see Liz sitting down. Yep, still beautiful, perhaps even more so, because she was positively beaming.

“Well, the lost sheep returned to the fold,” I said.

“I was busy. And nervous. I really couldn’t talk to people, not even you, Sam.”

“Nervous? What about?”

“You know exactly what about. About meeting Morrow. About her looking at my writing.” She gave me a look like, weren’t you paying attention?

“Ah. So when do you meet with her?”

“I already did. I got up my courage to call her after we’d talked on Monday, and it only took one reminder but she remembered you and the party and agreeing to talk to me. So she asked some questions, on the phone, I mean, about my writing process, how long I’d been doing it, who I admired, those kinds of things. I guess that was to find out if I was serious and worth talking to.

“Then she said -- you’ll like this -- she said, ‘Halloran thinks a lot of your writing, said that it “captured him”. He seems like a bright guy, good instincts, so maybe you’re worth a little of my time.’ Did you say that, Sam, that ‘captured’ thing?”

“Well, I’d had a couple of beers so I can’t remember exactly, but it sounds like something I’d say.”

“So, anyway, we set up an appointment for me to go see her -- I had to get permission from Schwartz’s boss, who’s covering for him, I told him it was a doctor’s appointment, and drove to her office. Sam, I was terrified, I almost turned around and drove home, but I forced myself.

“And walking in to the building, my heart was in my throat, and the closer I got to her office the more tense I got. I had to wait for a few minutes past my time, ‘cause she was finishing a call, probably to someone famous, then her assistant took me in.

“I was about ready to faint, but she was friendly and down-to-earth and I relaxed some. We talked some more, and she asked if I had something short she could read right now, and I gave her one of my shorter stories, three pages, I think. She read that, and I couldn’t tell what she was thinking when she put it down, but she asked if I had another short one. I found one that was about four pages, and she read that and even laughed once at what I guessed was about the right place in the story where the funny part was.

“Then she said, ‘Okay, Conway, it seems Halloran wasn’t completely full of shit. Why don’t you give me what you’ve got, and I’ll read some of it over the next few days, then we can talk again.’ Then she stood up and we shook hands, and she said, ‘It’s better than a lot of the stuff we get. Let’s see how your longer pieces read. I’ll be in touch.’”

She reached out and put one hand over mine, and again I was paralyzed, like high voltage surging through my body.

“Sam, I don’t remember how I got back to where I parked my car, I was just replaying that whole interview in my mind. Even if nothing comes of this, this made me feel like all this work meant something. I know it doesn’t sound like much, but that comment about ‘better than a lot of the stuff we get’ is really high praise coming from her. You know she’s kind of famous, don’t you, at least among authors?”

I told her no, I hadn’t, she was just a smart, funny woman I met at a party. Liz looked at me. The look said, “Oh, you poor, naive child.”

She gave my hand a squeeze and I thought my heart would stop.

“Sam, I can’t tell you how much this meant to me. I could hardly sleep at all that night, just thinking about everything that had happened. And then after work the next day I just sat down and started writing like crazy. I churned out a couple of more chapters. Oh! I forgot. I’d meant to give you some more last week and your news just pushed it out of my mind.”

She reached into her bag and pulled out an envelope with the next chapters, and said, “Here, these are the ones I did last week. Look them over, and whatever comments you come up with will be really helpful. I’ve got to get back. I just wanted to tell you what had happened and how excited I am. This wouldn’t have happened without you.”

She gave my hand another squeeze and I’m not sure how I remembered how to form speech, but I did and I asked, “Did Deb say when she’d get back to you?”

“No, just that she’d be in touch. I’d guess sometime after the weekend. Sam, I owe you. I won’t forget it.”

Then she was off and I realized I could move my hand again. As she walked away her butt seemed to be doing a little dance underneath the skirt. I don’t think I was the only one who noticed, as the conversation level in the room dropped noticeably.

I dumped my dishes at the dish-washing station and went back to the lab. Again, the magic of faster-than-light gossip manifested itself and as soon as I walked in the looks started. This time it was Frank who asked, conversationally, “I heard you and Liz Conway were having an intense discussion in the cafeteria. Something you’d like to share with the class?”

“Nothing that would interest you. It was about the interpretation of Greek poetry, if you must know.”

That got a somewhat impolite snort from him and derisive smiles from the others.

I’ll skip a couple of days here, nothing that would interest you. Until Friday. I was still feeling a bit down about Sara, and the thought of a couple of days alone in my apartment was as enticing as it sounds. So when Art asked if anyone wanted to go have dinner before heading home, it sounded like something to stave off the inevitable four walls and silence waiting at home.

Then it was a discussion of where, and the usual places got mentioned. In the end I was outvoted and it was TGIF again. I was wishing they’d chosen another place because Friday+TGIF means Trivia Night, and that probably means the Know-It-Alls would be there. I was not at all sure that Maria would be happy to see me, and she might even be looking for a new guy to take home. Nor did I want to be passed around among the others, the prize in a secret rock-paper-scissors raffle.

But now I was committed, so off we went. We got a different booth than last time, but pretty much the same food in the same raucous atmosphere. If anything, it was a little louder this time. And sure enough, there they were, on the other side of the room, this time at a round table. There was another woman with them, probably the no-show from last time for whom I had been the substitute. I kept my head down.

Our food arrived, so we fed ourselves and chattered about everything under the sun. Deciding to live dangerously, I ordered a second beer. I was now feeling relatively safe from the Know-It-Alls, who hadn’t yet noticed me, mostly because my back was to them.

But I spoke too soon, because while they hadn’t seen me, they did recognize Art, who was sitting with Frank on the other side of the booth, facing their table. Martha, the one who had kidnapped me the first time, stood up and came over. As she approached the booth she said, “Excuse me, weren’t you here last week with ... Oh! Here he is! Did you come to play trivia again, Sam?”

“Um, no, Martha, we came to have dinner after work. My brain is pretty much worn down to a nub, so I don’t think I’d be much use.”

“Yeah, you tried that excuse last time, too, and you still got us a win. I think your brain’s fine. C’mon, why don’t you join us? Easy money. The thrill of victory. Gloating over the agony of everyone else’s defeat. What could be better? You guys want in, too?” She was looking at Art and Frank.

Art said again he wasn’t a good trivia person, Frank said he had somewhere to be. She turned to look at me again. “Don’t wimp out on us, Sam. You were a star last time. We’ll be unbeatable with you on our team.”

So I was faced with a choice of sitting alone at home, or possibly being the prize in a silent auction. I had nothing against getting laid, I just wasn’t sure if tonight was the night for it. But in the end I caved and said I’d do it.

I put some cash down to cover my food and drinks, and followed Martha back to Trivia Central. “Look who I found!” she shouted. And Maria, who had had her back to our booth, looked up and saw me and gave me a big smile. And that caused the others to pass each other knowing smirks. They would probably be whispering to each other shortly, perhaps passing notes under the table like they did in high school.

“You know everyone, Sam, except for Barbara here who was AWOL last time, and we won in spite of her so she’d better watch herself.” Barbara gave Martha the finger and a smile.

I found an empty chair and pulled it up next to Maria. I was pleased to see that she seemed surprised and happy to see me. “I feel more confident now. I think we’re gonna whip their sorry butts,” she assured me.

I didn’t quite share her confidence, but the odds were better with more people, as Martha had said. Maria had gotten her chair closer to mine so our legs were brushing. I wasn’t sure how she’d done that, since she hadn’t seemed to have physically moved. But I was definitely feeling leg.

In a few minutes, the same MC with the too-loud mic started the same introduction, and soon we were underway.

“First question. Which hockey team did Wayne Gretzky play for in the ‘80s?”

Barbara was on her feet. “Edmonton Oilers! Go, Alberta!”

She sat down and caught me looking at her. “I’m Canadian. It’s one of those questions you’re required to know in order to move on from elementary school in Canada.”

“Next question,” said the MC. “Who discovered penicillin?”

I knew this, and shouted “Alexander Fleming!” at the same time as another table. The judges consulted and gave it to us.

It went on like that. We knew more than our share, but the other teams were tough and were not going to give up easily. So after two hours we were again in a dead heat with one other team -- not the same one as last week, I don’t think -- and locked in the elimination round.

I wasn’t clear on who was in the lead, but the two finalists were close. The MC called out, “Automobile trivia. In what year was the Chevrolet Corvette first introduced?”

I’m not much of a car person -- they’re pretty much transportation for me -- but my dad was, so a lot of this stuff was buried down deep from hearing it in my childhood. Without even hesitating I was on my feet shouting, “1953!”

“Correct, and that ties it up. Two questions remaining.” He asked which country did the band AC/DC originate in, and none of us were quick enough with an answer, but the other team was. Two of them jumped up and shouted, “Australia!” with an Australian accent in unison.

Beside me, Maria had quietly placed her hand on the inside of my thigh, perilously close to my dick. I think I will not be able to leap to my feet now without drawing attention to myself.

The MC said, “Final question. How long is the gestation period of an African elephant?”

I was an undergrad biology major, and had to take a zoology course as part of the degree requirement, so it took only a second to remember and, remaining in my seat, I shot my hand up and shouted, “Twenty-two months!”

“And that ties the game. So a tie-breaker question for the win: What metal is a liquid at standard temperature and pressure?”

I took a chemistry course or two, so it didn’t take much remembering to shout out, “Mercury!” The other table’s members punched the air and looked angry at not being fast enough to win. The women at mine were on their feet hugging each other, and Maria leaned down and kissed me on the cheek.

“Is that two weeks in a row for the win, do I remember that correctly?” the MC asked no one in particular over the mic, but Martha jumped up and down and clapped her hands, shouting, “Yes! Yes!”

The other team was packing up, collecting coats, paying tabs, and looking dejected. Ours was still ebullient, and Martha headed up to collect our winnings. Maria turned to me and said, “So once again you save our bacon. Nice job.”

“I think you guys would have been fine on your own.”

“Don’t think so. There were a couple of questions that only you knew the answer to, and the teams were closely matched enough that I think they’d have had the edge in the end. It was you who tilted the scales.”

“Well, I’m glad to have aided the cause.”

“I’m happy you showed up, Sam. Was this part of your plan?”

“No, I went out with the guys for dinner after work, and this is the place they voted for. I was in the mood for someplace quieter.”

“So my bribes worked,” she said. I raised an eyebrow.

“Just joking. I was kinda hoping you’d make an appearance. You in the mood for some coffee and dessert?”

Before I could answer, Martha returned with a fist full of bills, and divided them amongst us. A couple of them went off to get another drink at the bar, and Martha said, “You guys gonna have a drink with us?”

Maria told her, “No, I think we’re going to the diner for coffee. I think I’ve had enough to drink.”

And again they did the secret women-only communication where they said one thing but it had a completely different meaning, known only to them.

“Oh, come on,” Martha said, “one more drink.” “You gonna take him home and ball him till he’s unconscious?”

“No, I have to drive. Coffee’s better.” “That’s the plan.”

“Well, we’ll miss you. Thanks for the assist, Sam.” “I’ll call you tomorrow, Maria. I’ll want all the dirty details.”

So we collected our coats and waved goodbye to the others, who were still at the bar deciding who they were going to allow to hit on them while they waited for their drinks. As we did the last time, we walked to the diner, a short distance.

I ordered coffee and pie, and she got a Greek salad and ice tea. We chatted while we waited for our food.

I said, “So, you guys thinking of making the team formal, touring the country, sweeping the trivia contests? Easy money, lots of glamour. You could print up T-shirts with Know-It-Alls on the front.”

“It wouldn’t have the same thrill if you weren’t there, Sam. So I’ll pass. Maybe next year.”

I wondered what was on her mind. I could see there was something there, but she was playing it really close to the vest.

Just then the waitress dropped our plates in front of us. I mean that literally, she didn’t even stop, just dropped them on the table as she strode past on her way to someplace else. The food mostly stayed on the plates.

Maria took a forkful of salad and I said, “Hold on, is that a bit of keratin on your sleeve?” I reached out ostensibly to touch her sleeve, but by that time she was already staring beyond me at nothing, locked on to the sound of my voice.

“Maria,” I asked conversationally, “what are you thinking about?”

“I was thinking about the last time we were together. How much fun I had. How good I felt.”

“I had fun, too, and I felt great after. But really exhausted. It was wonderful. Did you think about it afterwards, did you think you might want to try again?”

“Yes, but I was afraid you’d think I was too easy. I don’t want you to think that about me.”

“I wouldn’t, Maria. If two people enjoy each other, why shouldn’t they indulge it? We’re both adults.”

“That’s what I think. But I didn’t know what you’d think.”

“Now you know. Were you thinking about specific things we’d done, or about things we didn’t get a chance to try?”

“Yes, I came really hard when you fucked my ass. And I was surprised at how turned on I got when you punished me for being bad. I’d never tried that before. I’d also like for you to tie me up so I can’t move and do whatever you want to me. It gets me hot.”

I thought back to the last suggestion I’d left her with, about seeking some insight into these particular compulsions. I was going to ask her about them, but decided to hold off.

“All right, Maria. We’re going to resume our conversation now, and as soon as I clap my hands you’ll forget everything I said, but you’ll recall the information as if you’d thought of it yourself. And when we start talking again, you’ll find yourself slowly getting more and more aroused, until all you can think about is how hard your nipples are and how wet your pussy is and how badly you need to get fucked.”

I started talking about memory tricks that enabled people to remember dates and events and facts, and how some people were much better at it. Under the table I clapped my hands once.

She came back slowly, eyes still over my shoulder, hearing my voice and becoming aware of the other sights and sounds around us.

I went on, “ ... so even though I know how it’s done, I never really learned the trick of committing these random facts to memory. How do you remember them?”

“Huh,” she said. “Oh, sorry, I spaced for a moment there. What was the question?”

“Not really important. Your salad okay? You haven’t touched most of it.”

“Oh, it’s fine,” she said, taking another bite. “My mind was drifting for a while. I took a big step this week, and it’s been occupying my head, so I’ve been drifting off periodically while I try to understand it.”

I looked interested, but didn’t say anything, just took a sip of coffee and waited for her.

“It concerns you, too, at least peripherally,” she said. “You remember the last time we spent time together, and the ... the restraints and how you punished me?” She looked down at her plate, not meeting my eyes.

“Of course I remember, Maria.”

“I don’t think I told you how much I’d come to depend on that kind of sex play to get me over the edge, to make me cum. Not so much now, but in the past I’d pick guys up in bars who looked like they’d be rough, demanding and forceful, maybe even physical. It got me off at the same time that it made me hate myself for doing it.”

“I didn’t know,” I said. I did know, but she had only told me while in her “trance”, so as far as she knew it was new information to me.

“Sam, I’m a little ashamed to be telling you this, but I thought you should know. I don’t know why this gets me off, but it does, and I’m worried that I’m going to get into a situation someday where I’ll get really hurt because someone can’t control themselves. I finally decided that I needed to figure out why I do this, so I made an appointment to talk to a counselor about it. I had my first meeting with her, so at least the problem is out in the open, and now we have to figure out why and how I deal with it.”

She finally looked up at me. “Do you think less of me now? Do you want to call it a night?”

I reached over and took her hand. “That must have taken a lot of courage, not only to tell me about it, but reaching out to the counselor in the first place. That sounds like the right thing to do, and, no, I don’t think any less of you. In fact, I think more highly of you for having had the strength to see there was a problem and finding a way to deal with it. You’re a strong woman, as well as sexy and smart and beautiful. You’ll work your way through this.”

“Thank you for saying that. It means a lot. Sam, do you think you might want to try again a second time? Now that you know my secrets?”

“If I had to do cartwheels through the parking lot to get to make love to you again, I’d do it. The thought of it is making me a little dizzy.”

She smiled. “Me, too,” she said. I noticed that her nipples were prominent under her bra and her blouse.

“Finish your salad and let’s go,” I told her.

“Wait, I have to find out what my roommate’s up to. I’m a little self-conscious about having guys over when she’s there. Especially you, ‘cause I make so much noise with you when I cum. Wait a minute.”

She pulled out her phone and sent a text message, I assumed to her roommate’s phone, and waited for a reply. She nibbled at her salad in the meantime. In a couple of minutes her phone dinged, and she nodded. “Okay, she’s at Jeff’s tonight, that’s her boyfriend, so we’re good till late morning at least.”

The waitress did another fly-by and the check fluttered onto the table. I took out some cash for a tip, and went up to pay the bill at the counter. When I got back, Maria had put the last forkful of salad in her mouth, and with her mouth full mumbled, “Okay, ready to go.”

She grabbed my arm on the walk back to our cars, staying very close. “You remember how to get to my place?” she asked.

“I think so,” I said, and named the street. She nodded and told me she’d meet me in the lobby.

I actually did remember how to get to her place, more muscle memory than anything else, but I recognized the building and parked. She was waiting in the lobby when I got to the door.

“I was afraid you’d gotten lost.”

“No, I was fine, my car remembered the way.”

Her door clicked closed and already she was trying to pull my coat off at the same time she was trying to stick her tongue down my throat. We got things sorted, and necked and groped our way down the hallway to her bedroom, leaving items of clothing in our wake. By the time we got near the bed, our shoes were gone, somewhere in the hall, and our shirts were unbuttoned.

I pulled myself away from her tongue for a moment. “Maria, how do you want this to go tonight? Last time you asked me to tie you up and force you. You told me you got off on that, but you’ve also told me that you think maybe that’s not right. Do you still want me to restrain you, to order you around, or would you like to try something else?”

“I don’t know, Sam. I’m so used to doing things this way that I’m not sure I can get off any other way. I’m worried about doing it that way with other guys because they can be too physical, almost abusive, but I don’t worry about that with you, you know your limits. And mine, too. So until I figure this out a bit more, can we try something like last time? The “punishment” stuff was fun and surprisingly erotic, maybe more of that?”

I wasn’t quite sure about this. I didn’t get the same thrill from it that she did, but if I did it in a way that wouldn’t hurt her, maybe I could humor her. I thought about it long enough that she cocked her head curiously to look at me, wondering if perhaps I was reconsidering.

“Okay, Maria. We’ll try that for awhile. You remember your safe word?”

“Ballerina,” she replied. I nodded.

I sat down on the bed and looked at her. She was still fully dressed, but for her shoes, and her blouse was unbuttoned.

“Maria,” I said in a severe tone, “I’m very disappointed in you. I thought you had improved, but the truth is that you’ve failed again. You know what this means, don’t you.”

It was really interesting to see how her body changed, from a person confident in their looks and abilities, someone in control, to a posture like a child’s, pulling in on herself, cowering, awaiting the criticism that would follow.

But she shook her head, saying she didn’t know what it meant, asking me to spell it out.

With a sigh, I said, “It means that I will have to punish you again, because you’ve disappointed me again, you haven’t learned your lesson. Will you accept your punishment?”

Quietly, almost so I couldn’t hear her, she whispered, “What is it?”

I shook my head. “I haven’t decided yet. But we both know you need to be punished, and you can’t be punished while you have your good clothes on. Remove your clothes, everything, and fold them neatly, please. Be quick.”

I hoped her therapist helped her figure this out quickly, because I was seeing some things here that made me nervous and uncomfortable. She was behaving like a little girl caught saying a very naughty word at home and a grown-up was going to make her regret it.

She started taking off her blouse, followed by her skirt. She folded them and placed them on the seat of the chair. She reached behind her, eyes on me, and unhooked her bra, placing it on the chair, then stepped out of her panties. There was something very disturbing about seeing this beautiful, sexy woman with the gorgeous body and the fearful look of a child on her face.

“All right, Maria. Now sit on your heels and put your hands in your lap and wait there.”

I stood up and watched her while I undressed. She looked like a prisoner waiting for the ax to fall. I put my clothes neatly on top of hers on the chair, placing my shorts on top.

“Maria, go to your dresser drawer where you keep your toys and bring me the whip.” She flinched, but she went. She found the whip, the same as last time, and brought it to me, laying it horizontal and presenting it to me with two hands.

“Thank you, Maria. Now, while I think about what your punishment will be, I want you to sit on your heels in front of me and slide the tip of my cock in your mouth. You should use a bit of tongue, but no hands, understand?”

She nodded, and I continued, “You do that until I tell you different. And if I feel you’re not doing your best job, I will give you a swat with the whip.”