"Mr. Timmons?" the female voice asked on the phone.
"This is Greg," I answered.
"This is Mia. I'm in your wife's group."
After the youngest of our two children moved out of our single-story, four bedroom house a couple of years ago, Michelle ramped up her home business. My wife sold Superware, the handy-dandy, seal anything, leak proof storage containers. Once she kicked it into high gear, she advanced quickly to a district director. My wife almost every evening now had some sales presentation or a meeting, so she was constantly gone. As a director, one of Michelle's responsibilities was to host monthly meeting with her downlines - the gals she recruited. Like many home businesses, the more people you recruited below you the more money you made. Two years ago, Michelle had two girls under her, but now she had fifteen. Mia was one of them.
"I'm sorry, Greg," said Mia. "I don't mean to bother you, but I think I left my purse at last night's meeting. I'm really, really sorry to disturb you."
"Hold on. I'll check."
I found Mia's purse by the lamp stand in the living room where the gals met yesterday.
"It's here." I then asked out of curiosity, "How did you get home?"
"My keys were in my fanny pack. Would it be alright if I came over to get my purse tonight if I wouldn't be bothering you? I really need it."
"Sure. Come on over."
"Thank you. Thank you. I'm so, so sorry."
I don't know many of Michelle's downlines. My wife added so many gals the past year and I didn't want to be involved with her business anyway.
However, I knew Mia.
Mia was under Michelle for about nine months now. She was 22 years old with short, wavy brown hair that barely covered her ears. She was a pretty girl but not quite beautiful. She was slender, but dropping five or ten pounds would define a sexy, feminine shape. It was not because of her physical attributes that I knew Mia.
Mia was forgetful and overly apologetic. This was not the first time she left something at our house and I knew it wouldn't be the last. When she came to retrieve her forgotten item, she would always profusely apologize as if she committed the most evil and vile act. Mia was a different kind of girl.
From a professional view, the girl lacked self-confidence and absolutely hated to disappoint anyone. From a plain view, Mia was a ditz.
Michelle sometimes complained to me about Mia. The girl wasn't motivated and there was the ditz factor. I knew if the wrong person such as a love interest got hold of Mia, he could badly manipulate the poor girl. That guy could twist Mia around his finger.
A strange idea popped into my head. It was a very strange idea. How about some excitement in my life tonight? Why not have a little fun with Mia's neurosis? Could I stress her out or was she too ditzy to be affected by it? This evening could potentially be entertaining.
The doorbell rang just after 7 PM.
"Hi, Mr. Timmons," Mia said anxiously.
"Call me Greg."
"I'm so sorry. You keep telling me that. I know you prefer Greg."
"So try it again."
I closed the door.
The doorbell rang.
"Hi, Greg," Mia said.
"Hi, Mia. What brings you here?"
"I left it here."
"I thought I did."
I was highly amused by the look of doubt on her face. Hey, my evenings were dull.
"Come on in, Mia," I said with a suppressed chuckle. "It's on the table."
"Oh, thank you, Greg," she said entering. "I'm so sorry to take up your time. I feel so stupid sometimes."
"Maybe you like to come over and that's why you forget stuff."
"Oh, I forget stuff everywhere. I have these Mia moments all the time."
"Symptomatic of wanting to come over here."
She picked up the purse and put the strap over her shoulder. "Thanks again, Greg. Sorry to bother you."
The phone rang thirty minutes later.
I hung up.
The phone rang.
"This is Mia again. I'm so sorry to bother you again, but I can't seem to find my cell phone. I thought it was in my purse..."
"It was," I interrupted.
"I took it out."
"Yes, I did it so you had a reason to come over tomorrow evening. I know you want to come over."
"Can I pick it up now?"
"Tomorrow night," I said firmly. "Got it?"
"Yes," she said disappointedly.
"Good night. I'm sorry to bother..."
I hung up before she finished.
The phone rang the next evening.
"Greg?" said Mia.
I hung up.
The phone rang a moment later.
"Uh... um... is this... ?"
"Mia?" I broke in. "My finger slipped and I hung up on you." It was a lie. I wanted to rattle her. Apparently I succeeded.
"Um... Greg. Could I come over now and get my cell phone?"
"Come on in, Mia," I said when I opened the door. She followed as I spoke. "You like me, Mia. I can tell. That's why you're here."
"I don't understand," she said looking confused which meant she looked normal.
"You have a romantic crush on me. You subconsciously leave things here so you can come back and talk to me."
Mia's facial expression said I was crazy.
On a whim, I decided to take my toying down an odd route. "I want you to know I understand and that I like you too. You are a very pretty girl."
"Can I get my cell phone?"
A predictable topic avoidance.
"I have never seen what you look like when you dress for a sales presentation. Could I see you dressed up sometime?"
She bumped into the wall. A framed picture became dislodged and slid to the floor.
"Sorry! I'm so sorry!" she quickly said.
She tried to put the picture back on the wall hanger, but missed and it dropped back to the ground. I grabbed the picture and hung it up before she tried again and ended up cracking the frame or the glass.
"I'm so, so, so, sorry. I always have these Mia moments."
'It's alright," I said with annoyance.
I pulled her cell phone out of the kitchen drawer and handed it to her.
"Thank you," she said.
"Come here tomorrow evening, Mia. How you dress for your sales presentations affects how much people buy. I know your sales are low."
She interjected, "I'm trying. I told Michelle I would do better."
"What you need is a man's eye. Look how well Michelle is doing. I want to help you. Come over at 6:30 tomorrow evening. I won't take 'no' for an answer. Wear an above the knee skirt and a nice button blouse."
"Okay," she said reluctantly.
Mia showed up a couple of minutes late as usual.
"I'm really sorry that I'm late. I couldn't find my keys. I accidentally put them in the refrigerator. I had a Mia moment."
"I'm glad you're here."
I was. First because I knew there was a good chance that she'd forget to come over. Second because she might decide I was a crazy man and stay away. The fact that she showed up demonstrated how much control a person could have on her.
"You have great legs, Mia!" I said.
"Come into the living room."
When there I guided her by the shoulders and stood her a few feet in front of the couch. I sat down but immediately stood back up.
"Turn around," I said. She spun too fast. "Slowly."
She turned her head to look at me as I looked at her.
"Great legs and a good body. A pretty face. I love your dark eyes. They go perfect with your brown hair."
She softly smiled.
"Stop and face me." She did. "Something is not quite right here." I stepped forward. She visibly stiffened when I undid the top button of her blouse. I undid the next one down and stepped back. "Maybe one more?" I undid the button and stepped back again. "Are you an A or a B cup?"
She lightly reddened. I stared and waited for an answer.
"B," she said.
"Sort of in between, huh?"
She nodded. It depended on the bra company whether she wore an A or B.
A thought came to mind that was so strong that it caused me to sit heavily on the couch. I would be the man who manipulated Mia. She was a pretty young woman. I could make her do so many things. Better yet, I could do so many things with her. The stirring of my cock confirmed that I wanted to take this game a very long way.
"Wear this same outfit tomorrow when you come over. Are you wearing panties?"
"Yeah," she said hesitantly.
"Don't wear panties tomorrow."
"Mr. Timmons!" she shouted.
I stared at her with an excessively angry look.
"I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. Greg. I meant to say Greg."
"I want you to experience the freedom of going open-air. I want you to experience the power you have within you."
"I can't do that."
"You can and you will," I said like a command. "Do you understand?"
"Yes," she said and slumped.
I hugged her and said, "I knew I could count on you." I broke away. "See you tomorrow."
She buttoned up her blouse and headed out.
After she left, I appraised and analyzed the situation and scenario. Mia was a virgin. If she wasn't then... no, she had to be. I wanted to be her first and I wanted to have a whole lot of fun with Mia.
Mia followed me into the living room. She stood in the same spot as yesterday.
.... There is more of this story ...