Chapter 51: Reconfiguration

September 15, 2000, Denver, Colorado

When we walked into my suite, Suzanne went into the bathroom and turned on the taps. She called out for me to get undressed. I did, and went into the bathroom to find her naked from the waist up, with a towel wrapped around her waist, her hair pulled up on her head, reminding me of Sakurako, though Suzanne was blonde. I got into the tub and sat down in the warm, sudsy water, my nostrils filled with the distinctive aroma of cherry blossoms.

Suzanne used a large sponge to thoroughly wash me from head to toe, rinsing the suds from me by pouring water from a pitcher over me. When she finished, she removed her towel, climbed into the tub, and settled between my legs. She leaned back against my chest and I wrapped my arms around her. After a few minutes, she directed my hand between her legs and I moved my fingers in a small circle, applying just enough pressure to provide pleasure. I moved my other hand to cup one of her breasts, and gently strummed her nipple with my thumb. I began kissing her neck and a few minutes later she shuddered and moaned.

“Put your finger in me,” she requested in a barely audible whisper.

I slid my middle finger into Suzanne’s tight tunnel. I gently moved my finger in and out, and applied pressure to her clit with the palm of my hand, while tweaking her nipple with my other hand.

“Yeah,” she sighed. “Like that.”

I fingered her to several small orgasms before we got out of the tub, took a quick shower to rinse off, dried ourselves, then moved to the bed where Suzanne gave me an extremely pleasurable blowjob. After a bit of quiet recovery time, we had a long, slow, pleasurable screw. When we finished, I lay on my back and Suzanne moved on top of me with her head on my chest.

“Was there something you wanted to do tomorrow?” Suzanne asked. “I mean, besides the obvious!”

“I came to spend time with you,” I said. “So whatever you want to do.”

“How about the Denver Art Museum? They have a large collection of Native American art, plus exhibits from the Spanish Colonial period.”

“That sounds good.”

“We can do that after breakfast. That will give you and Cheryl time to get to know each other and decide if you want to be together.”

“How long have you known her?”

“Since we moved here after my parents divorced. Cheryl’s family was here when Colorado was controlled by Spain as the province of Santa Fe de Nuevo México, which was part of Mexico before it was ceded to the US after the Mexican-American War. She has Spanish and Ute blood, but the family intermarried with other Europeans later on. She’s being recruited to play soccer in college, but she sees that as a dead end given there really isn’t any professional soccer to speak of in the US. She’s planning to major in math with a minor in physical education, and get a secondary education certificate.”

“Math and gym teacher?” I asked.

“Math teacher and soccer coach.”

“What is her motivation?”

“You mean besides the very enticing ‘preview of cumming attractions’?” Suzanne said with a snicker.

“Cute. And yes, besides that.”

“She’s had a fantasy of having sex with an older guy, a specific one, but he’s completely unavailable.”

“Married?”

“And a teacher at our High School. She’s wanted him since she had him for math Freshman year. He even looks a bit like you, though he wears glasses and he’s not in nearly as good of shape as you are.”

“So she’s going to call out his name?” I asked with a smirk.

Suzanne laughed, “If she screams ‘Mr. Knowles’ or ‘Bert’ then you’ll know!”

“So I’m a substitute teacher?” I asked with a grin.

“Cute. More like a truly viable alternative. You fit the basic criteria for her fantasy and are actually available. As for you, she fits your type in terms of intelligence, personality, and body type.”

“And having you in the room?”

“My fantasy which I told her about. She was amenable.”

“You and Kara,” I chuckled.

“And Leigh wants mirrors. You’re not exactly completely conventional in your behavior!”

“Just how much did Kara and Jessica tell you?”

“I know about your toys; though, to be honest, they don’t interest me.”

“Different strokes for different folks, as they say. My wives and I don’t actually play with the toys as much as we did in the past. They were a phase, really.”

Suzanne nodded, “Let me make love to you, and then I’ll head home. I can stay tomorrow night.”

Suzanne gave me a wonderful tongue bath then rode me until we shared a wonderful mutual orgasm. We showered, dressed, and I walked her to her car. We exchanged a soft kiss, she got in, and headed home.

September 16, 2000, Denver, Colorado

On Saturday morning, I arrived at the restaurant to find Suzanne and Cheryl waiting for me just inside the entrance. Suzanne and I hugged, but didn’t kiss as we were in public.

“Steve, this is Cheryl; Cheryl, this is Steve.”

“Nice to meet you,” I said.

“Hi!” Cheryl replied.

She was bubbly and memories of Jessica Simons, who was probably the most hyper girl I’d ever met, swirled up from the recesses of my mind. I’d later discovered Jessica was Eve’s cousin, and that twenty years later, she was just as excitable as she had been in High School.

“Shall we get a booth?” Suzanne asked.

I nodded and Suzanne asked the hostess who led us to a booth, where Suzanne sat next to Cheryl, across from me. The waitress arrived immediately to pour coffee for Cheryl which I was sure she did not need. I asked for hot water and Earl Grey, and Suzanne requested the same. The waitress was back a minute later with pots of hot water and packets of Earl Grey tea bags.

“Suzanne told me you run your own computer company in Chicago and have an office here,” Cheryl said.

“The office is in Colorado Springs, though I don’t run the company day-to-day. My sister and a small group of friends who started the company with me do that. I ran it for about five years, then went back to programming, which is what I really like to do.”

“You just voluntarily stepped aside?”

“Yes. One of the other founders ran it for the first five years because I was one of the main programmers. Being back to that makes me very happy. My sister deals with all the BS surrounding a big company. I have a degree in computer science; she has an MBA.”

“You’re also a karate instructor?”

I nodded, “Yes.”

“How long have you practiced karate?”

“Nineteen years,” I replied. “I’ve been an instructor for about eleven. How long have you played soccer?”

“Since I was six. I started as a keeper, but moved to midfielder when I turned twelve because I became a good passer, a good defender, and I have a semi-decent shot. Mostly I play around the center of the field, but when we get a good attack going I move up to provide more scoring chances. And I move all the way back to the box when we need additional defense.”

“I’ve watched a bit of soccer, or football as my European friends call it, but not a lot. I’m more into ice hockey and NASCAR.”

“I like the Avalanche. You’re a Blackhawks fan?”

“Penguins, ever since they came into the league with the merger about thirty years ago. I was living in Ohio at the time. Well, mostly, because I lived in Sweden for a year.”

“Cool! Your dad was assigned there?”

“No, I was an exchange student.”

“Whoa! My parents would never go for that!”

“My mom objected, but my dad was totally cool about it.”

“I take it you had a good time?”

“Very. I made some lifelong friends there and I’ve been back a few times.”

“And you really know the Doctor who wrote the book we read?”

“Smart Teens; Smart Choices? Yes. Doctor Bethany Krajick is one of my oldest and dearest friends. We dated for a time in High School and college.”

“So cool! The book was awesome!”

“I’ll tell her when I see her!”

The waitress came to take our orders. I missed Pam from Bucktown Bistro; she always had my order pre-written on her pad. When I ate elsewhere, I had to be very specific and very detailed about what I wanted and remind the waitress that nothing except what I ordered should be on the plate. She wrote it all down, but the look on her face indicated she wanted to roll her eyes. I could have explained that I had a health problem, but we were in a restaurant, I was ordering food, and it ought to be simple to write down what I wanted and have it cooked.

“What’s up with your order?” Cheryl asked when the waitress left.

“That’s what I wanted to eat,” I replied. “It’s my normal breakfast when I go out with my friends on alternate Saturdays.”

“Every time?”

“Every time. I’m a creature of habit in many ways.”

“So like the same routines?”

“Yes. You’re an athlete, so I’m sure you understand.”

“Yeah, I do the same stuff the same way before every game.”

“Is your team good?”

“We’ve made it to State all three years I’ve been on it, but we haven’t won the championship. I’m hoping this year. We’re good enough, it’s just putting together a string of wins in the playoffs.”

“That is always the challenge at every level in every sport.”

“Were you ever on a school team for anything?”

“No. I played Little League baseball, and I was an average hitter and average pitcher, but I never went out for a school team. And after I discovered computers the summer after ninth grade, I really didn’t have time for sports. I did play competitive chess up through my Sophomore year, but then I went to Sweden for a year and didn’t pick it up when I came back because a friend and I started a computer business together. That was different from the one I have now, though that same friend is on our Board of Directors.”

“You had a company in High School?”

“Yes. It wasn’t as big, but we sold it to help pay for college.”

I realized, having talked to Cheryl for about ten minutes that I wasn’t getting any kind of vibe from her that made her slightly interesting. Yes, she was a ‘Steve type’ and yes, I suspected she’d be a wildcat in bed, as I’d predicted Jessica Simons would, but it wasn’t ‘clicking’ for me at all. Back in High School, I probably would have done it, but now it didn’t seem ... like the thing to do. Neither ‘right’ nor ‘wrong’ factored in, really; it was just a matter of not clicking. I looked to Suzanne and we made eye contact, and I was positive she could read in my face that I wasn’t interested, and that was confirmed when I read in her eyes that she understood.

The conversation continued unabated until the waitress brought our food, and we began eating, which slowed the conversation. When we finished, I paid the bill, left a tip, and then the three of us left the restaurant to head for the Denver Art Museum. We spent an enjoyable morning together, but additional interaction with Cheryl didn’t change my feelings about going forward with the ‘random deflowering’ which Suzanne had suggested.

We had lunch at a diner near the museum and after we ate, Suzanne spoke with Cheryl privately, and then came to tell me she was taking Cheryl home and would meet me at the hotel. The girls left and I headed back to the hotel and went up to my room. I filled an electric kettle with water, and set two tea bags next to it, then I pulled out Pyramiden, the latest book in the Kurt Wallander series by Henning Mankell. It was a collection of five short stories which filled in some of the history of Inspector Wallander, including his very first case. I read the first story, whose English title would be ‘Wallander’s First Case’, before Suzanne returned.

“Tell me,” she said, when I opened the door.

“Come in, let’s have some tea, and we can talk about it. I’m not upset, and I hope Cheryl isn’t.”

“She’s not. She was pretty sure halfway through the morning you weren’t interested. She’s confused, but not upset.”

I poured hot water into two mugs, put one tea bag in each, then went to sit on the couch with Suzanne.

“Twenty years ago, I would have done it without a second thought,” I said. “In fact, even five years ago, I probably would have. Starting with my trip to Russia three years ago, there was a lengthy hiatus where I didn’t have any new relationships, casual or otherwise. That lasted about thirty months, until January of this year, when Birgit created the coupons she told you about. The young woman in question is someone I’ve known since she was about four, so there was an existing relationship.

“That’s the key to the change. I had two instances of dalliances with girls who I didn’t know well, though in each case, something clicked almost right away. But each and every ‘random deflowering’ since the start of that Russia trip was a product of a relationship, so it wasn’t ‘random’, per se. And I think that’s the bottom line - they can’t be random any more. And I think that applies to dalliances and deflowerings.”

“Why?”

“Well, for deflowerings, there are multiple potential issues. Possible regret on their part, possible feelings beyond what I can ever satisfy, and, age of consent issues.”

“I’m assuming, based on everything we’ve talked about, you don’t care.”

“You assume correctly, and that means there has to be absolute trust that the girl won’t talk about it and her parents need to have the same attitude I have. Granted, that didn’t apply to Cheryl because she’s seventeen.”

“So you’re trying to say that it’s you, not me?”

“Because it is. You simply made a suggestion; one I could have simply rejected last night. I chose to explore it because I wanted to.”

“To make me happy.”

“That’s true, but in the end, I’m still fully responsible for my own actions. This was one hundred percent on me.”

“Which fits your entire philosophy of personal responsibility.”

“Yes,” I agreed.

“And I’m responsible for making the inappropriate suggestion.”

“Yes, though it’s mitigated by the fact that we hadn’t discussed the ground rules, so to speak. You know a lot about my history and have talked to my wives and daughter. The picture you received was accurate but incomplete. There’s a lot of my history you don’t know as yet, and that’s what’s really in play here.”

We removed the tea bags from our mugs and took our first sips of tea.

“Then I think we need to talk about how I go about finding one more female cadre member.”

“First of all, they need to be local to Chicago, or it won’t really work. Beyond that, it’s mostly about being intelligent and open-minded. Whoever it is will absolutely have to get along very, very well with you, Leigh, and Val.”

“And you, too.”

“I was sure that was a given,” I chuckled, “but it probably doesn’t hurt to spell it out.”

“How did you find people in the past? I mean just for the Rap Sessions?”

“Very early on, it was a close circle of friends. Later, we recruited by holding seminars at UofC and IIT. And now it’s mostly recruitment by existing members.”

“Leigh was an exception, as was I.”

“And Val,” I said.

“She was recruited by an existing member!” Suzanne protested.

“True. And I think the requirement for them to be local to Chicago means it has to wait until you move next summer.”

“Probably; let me ask you this - if Cheryl were attending school in Chicago, would that have changed anything?”

“You mean if she was a candidate, rather than a ‘random deflowering’? Maybe. The conversation would have gone in a very different direction, and there would have been no need for immediate action. So, yes, it might have been different because then I would have explored her philosophy and attitude to see if she was a fit.”

“Not just if YOU fit?” Suzanne teased.

“I would, and I suspect it would be a very tight fit!”

“And enough energy to wear YOU out!”

I laughed, “Now that would be a challenge for a virgin!”

“One you’d be ‘up’ for?” Suzanne asked with a smirk.

“Are you just messing with me or are you trying to change my mind?”

“It could be both, couldn’t it?”

“It could. It’s a technique I’ve used in the past because it leaves all possibilities open.”

“Wait! Are you saying you’ve changed your mind?”

“No, I’m saying that it leaves open the question of me changing my mind. It’s a good technique, as long as it’s not overused.”

“You’d actually reconsider?”

“There is literally nothing I think I know or that I believe that isn’t open to question, reexamination, or reconsideration, with the exception of the love of my wives, kids, and friends.”

“But you have some pretty strongly held beliefs!”

“And any or all of them could be wrong. I’m certain most, if not all, are incomplete or inaccurate.”

“But you argue forcefully, as if it were absolutely true.”

“Now,” I grinned, “why would I do that?’

Suzanne was quiet for a moment.

“So that you present the strongest possible argument. Then, if someone finds a weakness, in it, you know you have to reevaluate.”

“Exactly. They also help me play Devil’s Advocate, when necessary.”

“You mean take a position opposite to the one you actually believe, right?”

“‘If you know your enemies and know yourself, you will not be imperiled in a hundred battles‘“

“That sounds like it has to be the Chinese General. Sun Tzu?”