The Message: At Work
Karrie received the message -- she always thought of it that way afterwards: 'the Message' -- as a text. After the initial shock of the message had sunk in, she was for a few moments really, really angry.
"God damn!" she almost yelled to whoever might be listening, in this case she later hoped that no one had been listening, "He did it by a text! A god damn text! A fucking text!"
Then she cried!
The text message was concise and unemotional: "Karrie: got a new job offer in Seattle; leaving this afternoon. Cases packed; don't need any stuff.Thanks for letting me stay. Jeff"
Through her tears she was berating him: "Letting him stay; we were living together damn it! And now this! A fucking text and he's off to Seattle."
The uncomfortable reality sunk in rather quickly: she'd been jilted; dumped by that shit Jeff Norman! Dumped! Jilted! It resounded through her mind, as she looked at the text again.
Karrie, Karrie Ransome, had 'lived' with Jeff for about a half a year. It wasn't the greatest relationship. Jeff was pretty closed off and not overly communicative at most times. But living together had had its pleasant sides. The availability of sex, at times great sex, had been a plus. It left the internet scene and the bar scene behind, and for that Karrie had been certainly grateful. And right then she decided that she didn't even want to think about it, about those things. This major 'bomb' was just beginning to settle in.
He was, by then certainly, actually gone, packed up and gone! That was the reality that was screaming at her from the phone text page. And her tears were flowing, maybe as much for the loss of the comfort of a relationship as for anything else. Karrie, right then didn't feel like looking at it any further, any deeper.
(Karrie Ransome, actually baptized Karen Mae Ransome, was just then 33 years old. She had been in a position with her life where she really liked the way things were happening. She was a member of the management team at work, Rennert & Co. She had her years of struggle behind her, she thought. She'd put herself through school and grad school, business school by the very sweat of her brow, as she was fond of putting it, and her position at Rennert was a result of all of that. The relationship with Jeff Norman had fit into that comfortable life style, after they'd dated for about a month and then began to talk about living together.
"Not staying with me! Damn it!" she almost shouted to the desk.
Her present life was such a kind of triumph for her, for Karrie. She'd been a fat girl in high school and as she went away to school. But it was then that she had grown a few extra inches and had discovered a vein of very strong determination within. She devoted herself to exercising and made herself over. She stopped using the name Karen, which she associated too easily with her 'fat self', as she termed it, and became to friends and associates 'Karrie'. It seemed to have worked, for not too terribly long after she began her work at Rennert, where she'd been for over two years now, she met, at a party, Jeff Norman and they struck up a relationship. Things were falling into place for Karrie Mae Ransome, so she thought.
Of course at that point she shouldn't have been terribly surprised, for her working out and watching her diet had certainly paid off. With her newfound growth, Karrie stood not 5'9" and had shaped herself down from her adolescent fatness to a lovely 130 lbs, which she carried very well. As she arrived at adulthood, full adulthood, she became busty and we rounded in the butt, all of which pleased Karrie no end, who felt that her 'time' was coming. The way that Jeff Norman had reacted to her just proved the truth of that kind of feeling for her.)
She let some of it go then, still staring at the text message, the finality of it:
"The shit! The dirty sneaking shit!" she almost intoned. "Jilted! Damn, damn jilted via text! Shit! Shit!"
(Karrie, at that point, had been working on the draft of a new proposal that they were working on at Rennert. It was an important document, proposal for their move into the future, and Karrie was pleased to have it to work on. There was to be a meeting with the 'boss', Victor Rennert, about the proposal that afternoon.)
It was only then that Karrie, still crying and cursing and swearing at the text on her phone, realized that Mr Rennert was indeed standing in the doorway, watching, witnessing her almost total melt down.
"Karrie?" Victor said, the concern in his voice total and real.
"Ohhhhh!" she groaned, when she realized that she'd been doing all of this spouting and crying with the boss, of all people, as a witness.
(Victor Rennert had inherited the company from his late father; he was just then 40 years old, he had come to work for his Dad and enjoyed the challenges of the kind of engineering business that they ran -- quite successfully. Over the years, it had become obvious that Victor's dad was counting on him to take over the business, and by the time his dad had died of a heart attack about five years before, Victor was ready for the business. He had some new ideas and they'd proven to be good ones, and the business had prospered. In the meantime, Victor had taken care of his aging and ailing Mom, who had also died eight months previously.)
He'd come into Karrie's office, they worked well enough together that they felt fee to come into each other's office, when there was a need, because they'd decided to look over the proposal that afternoon in detail. Now Karrie had it just about finished, when the text had arrived.
"Karrie!" he said again, and she looked up at him, the tears staining her face and simply handed the phone to him.
"Jilted!" she said, her voice sounding totally, completely lost. "I've been jilted! He simply sent me a text! The shit! A text!"
It might have been having someone else there at that point to share in her grief or just the quality of the relationship between the two of them but Karrie broke into real and prolonged crying then.
Victor moved over to where she was, set the phone down on her desk, and without another thought, pulled her head to his stomach. She, for her part, put her arms around his waist, right about at his belt and simply held onto him and cried.
"Ohhhhh!" she moaned.
When she finally calmed down just a bit she spoke, almost as though only to herself: "He wasn't that great, not to live with or anything, really, and it's probably for the best but a text! No dignity! No gratitude! Just a damn text!"
She moved her head away from his stomach then and put her hands on her desk top.
"I'm sorry, Mr R ... uh ... Victor, for falling apart at work like this..."
She never got to finish the sentence, he never let her: "Not a word about it. The proposal gets to wait until tomorrow. We'll take care of this now! That's all, just take care of this."
Karrie simply repeated the phrase after him: "Just take care of this now, yes!" She looked at him then, her eyes shining with tears and said simply: "How?"
It was as though she were putting herself into his hands and letting him make decisions for her.
"I know of a method of clearing your head that can't fail!" he said.
"Yes?" she said in a small and weak voice, still letting herself be taken care of.
"Come with me!" he said. He told their executive assistant/secretary that they were leaving for the day and walked Karrie out of the office part of the building.
He took her by the hand down to the corporate garage, and over to a corner of the garage that was for his private use. There stood his Harley.
"Ohhh," she said, as he took a leather jacket from the locker that stood there and a helmet.
"We're going to blow out the cobwebs," he said.
"Yes, she said, almost in a trance, "Blow out the cobwebs!"
He gave her a leather jacket from the locker also.
"My skirt?" she said, realizing that he was going to take her for a ride.
"Don't worry," he said, I'll get on first and won't be looking, when you get on!"
It made her giggle, which was the first sign that she was coming out of the reaction that she'd had to the text message.
Victor did get onto the motorcycle and then Karrie clambered up behind him, giggling again, when she realized how much of her pantyhose covered thighs were showing, as she climbed aboard.
"Helmet?" she said.
"Optional in the state," he said, "and I want to blow the cobwebs out of your mind. So, let's start this way. As soon as it's too much, simply lay your face against my back."
Then he roared off, with Karrie shrieking her joy at the sensations of it. Karrie's shrieking continued. The wind and the speed and the sensations of it all were overwhelming her and she was simply sunk in the joy of what was happening. It was, as he'd said, blowing out the cobwebs.
Karrie held onto Victor tightly. The leather jacket was unzipped and Victor was very aware of the pressure of Karrie's breasts against his back. She had her arms wrapped around him and her face buried in between his shoulders. She was cuddled up to him and the wind was blowing her skirt up so that she fairly had her stomach and pussy pressed against his hips. Victor as acutely aware of that sensation also.
The ride was as therapeutic as Victor had planned. Karrie was grinning, giggling and laughing, when they were finally finished.
"I'll hold it here, so that you can get off!" Victor said.
"Miss the show then!" she said and quickly corrected herself: "Oops, sorry Mr R!'
"You know it's Victor!" he said, "We're friends here, Karrie!"
.... There is more of this story ...