Cleaned
Chapter 32: Trying to go straight

Copyright© 2002 by Pat Fairfield

Erotica Sex Story: Chapter 32: Trying to go straight - A fem-domme romance. This is not the usual "you miserable worm!" treatment of this kind of topic. It has tender moments. Oh, and a lot of hot sex. Try it. You'll like it! Our hero did.

Caution: This Erotica Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa   Fa/Fa   Consensual   Romantic   Lesbian   Heterosexual   Cheating   Wimp Husband   Cuckold   BDSM   DomSub   FemaleDom   Rough   Light Bond   Humiliation   Interracial   Black Female   Black Male   White Male   White Female   Oral Sex   Masturbation   Fisting   Sex Toys   Cream Pie   Exhibitionism   Voyeurism   Size   BBW  

In truth, Janelle was not a whole lot happier. She walked on down the street with her carry-bag slung over her shoulder, not quite sure yet what she would do or where she would go.

She certainly did care for Doug, and she did feel a strong sense of loss.

But things had to be done on her terms, or not at all. It was the way she had always operated. She didn't want to change now.

And it still rankled, that bit about her being a junkie.

Her immediate problem was to find a place to stay. It would be like eating humble pie to go crawling back to Nerissa again. Her parents were not an option, either. It would take years before they'd ever lighten up and get off her case.

Fortunately her sojourn with Doug had been good for her economically, as well as sexually and emotionally. She held down a livable job now, and had a bit of money saved. Her first ports of call were some agencies with apartments for rent, and by late afternoon she had signed up a lease, paid a deposit, and got the keys. It was small, and not in a particularly salubrious location, but it would do.

She still had her key to Doug's place. If she chose a time within normal working hours, it was a sure bet he wouldn't be home. And so it came to pass that a single trip with a rented U-Haul truck was sufficient to clear out all her things and get them over to the new place. She took nothing that wasn't hers, and left his apartment as tidy as she's found it.

Before going, she placed a pink bunny-rabbit soft toy on the dining table, wearing a set of toy plastic hand-cuffs. She used its cuffed arms to prop up a card that had a big red love-heart on it, but nothing else. This was her way of saying "Thanks for the memories".

It was with a twinge of regret that she locked the apartment behind her for the last time, and slid its key back under the door.

Janelle remained at a loose end for a few days, not quite knowing what to do with herself now that she was "between relationships". Bit by bit she unpacked her art gear and got her tiny living room set up like a mini-studio. She started throwing her non-work-time energies into developing some of the themes she'd begun to map out in her art-course portfolio.

It was good fantasy stuff, too. It absorbed her creative energies for the time being.

But it was delaying the inevitable. Fantasy would not be enough. Sooner or later she would want something real. Something flesh and blood. The craving would build, and how was it going to be sated now? She really did not know.

Junkie, huh?

Well, we'll have to see about that.

The weeks passed, and Doug went through it all like a sleepwalker. The people who knew him, and they were not many, found him even quieter than usual. Very withdrawn.

Her missed her. And it ached.

But he had to get her out of his mind. It was over. Her decision was final.

He needed a distraction. Something to take his mind off the way things used to be.

At this juncture, he met Jennifer.

Not met, exactly. It was more that their trajectories crossed momentarily.

She worked for the other side. A junior member of a negotiating team offering to sell out a major stake in a corporation Doug's firm was interested in.

It was not particularly hard work this time around. Not a question of trying to out-wit or even having to steam-roller the opposition. Just a case of finding that common point where all competing interests were going to be satisfied.

While it was going on, Doug kept finding himself looking at her surreptitiously. Checking her out. Distracting himself at times by wondering what it would be like to try something vanilla again.

To try going straight.

So when the deal was finally done and issues about conflict of interest could no longer arise, he asked her out.

Awkwardly, mind you. He was not well versed at the dating game. But he raked up the courage and he blurted out the words and, after a moments pause, she graciously assented.

She was ready on time, he picked her up from her place, and the restaurant he had chosen was a very good one. It struck her that the maitre'd was effusive in welcoming Doug like an old friend, and anxious to ensure that everything was perfect. She was impressed.

They both worked in the same industry, so the conversation was easy. All they had to do was talk shop. If she found him nerdy then she did not let on. In fact, she appeared suitably over-awed by his far-reaching professional reputation. How had a big catch like him managed to stay single for so long?

His car rolled silently to a stop at the curb by her apartment. It was approaching midnight. He looked across at her, looking slim, blonde and attractive in the neon glow of the street.

Her eyes met his. A pregnant pause.

"Come up for a coffee?"

He nodded.

Offer, and acceptance. As simple as that.

She locked and chained the apartment door behind them, then immediately turned to him, moving in close. He didn't know how it happened so fast, but she'd inveigled herself into his arms in an instant. His face came down to meet hers.

They kissed demurely.

Sweetly.

Her lips soft, full and warm, but remaining teasingly closed.

His arms slowly moved up and down the small of her back, going lower and lower across the slippery silk, seeking out her firm buttocks through that light evening gown.

He could feel that her panties were quite high-cut in the rear. By now he'd developed a hard-on that she must surely be able to feel, with her body pressed so closely against him.

She released him and turned for the bedroom, silently tugging his hand for him to follow.

"Unzip me."

She turned away so he could work the zipper down her back. Sky-blue bra straps came into view, and then she pulled the whole silken affair off and let it tumble carelessly to the floor.

She turned, and struck a little pose. The soft lighting of the bedside lamps glinted off her loose blonde hair. He drank in the sight of shiny, almost-sheer bra cups that made no secret of her nipples, and the matching blue triangle at the epi-centre of her shapely hips.

Like a robot he fumbled with his tie and shirt buttons, then got his trousers off. She waited regally, watching his progress with a smug Giaconda smile.

Confident in her looks. Her blue-eyed blonde-ness. Knowing full well that she had what guys want.

 
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