Holiday Escort (15 page)

I started redecorating slowly. I talked to Karen about color schemes and styles. "Are you going to replace all the furniture?" she asked.

"No, I like your furniture. But I want new color on the walls, and I want to start l
ooking for artwork
."

"You don't like the paintings?"

"They're okay, but I want some sculpture, too.
And that wall,
"
I said, pointing to a two-story wall in the living room, "would be a great place for a big tapestry. I can change it out seasonally. It would be wonderful."

She didn't understand and told me that. "It's not that I doubt you," she said. "It's that I just don't think that way. I know the house will look so much better when you do what you want, but asking my opinion is like asking a blind woman to pick the colors."

"So you want me to just handle it?"

"Yes."

"Will you be upset if you come home and a room is in turmoil for a few days?"

"As long as it's not my office, it's fine."

Our first dance lesson with Candace was mostly about Candace learning what we, or more exactly Karen, already knew. She did talk to me about a bad habit I'd been developing, but most of the lesson was geared towards Karen. That was exactly what I'd wanted.

I called Candace the next day. "What did you think?"

"She has a good base to start with. Was there anything you wanted in particular?"

"
I'd like if she offered opportunities for me to add more flourishes. She doesn't know how to
secada
or
gancho
. I think she wishes she knew how to invite a leg wrap.
"

Candace laughed. "Perhaps we should start with that, then. It would give her an immediate reward."

* * *

The sex was amazing.

It didn't take me long to realize that Karen loved making me beg. For the first several days of being lovers, she spent effort teaching me both the joys of receiving her touch and how to please her.
But she also taught me that if she told me to do something, I better do it.

I learned that lesson the evening of our second Friday in January. We had been lovers for just over a week. She had gotten home from work and had a spark in her eyes. She gave me a soul-wrenching kiss in the kitchen and inquired whether I needed to give dinner any immediate attention. I didn't, so she took my hand and led me to the bedroom.

She immediately turned to me and had my clothes off in moments. When I reached for hers, she slapped my hands away. "Get on the bed."

I reached for her and she stepped away.

"Get on the bed," she said again.

Instead, playfully, I followed her around the room.

"Madeline, do not make me tell you a third time."

I cocked my head at her.
I decided she was serious, so I walked over and sat on the bad. She smiled. "All the way," she said, pointing to the pillows. So I climbed up and lied down on the pillows.

Then she began undressing. She undressed slowly while I watched, her eyes never leaving mine.
She hung her clothes up then returned to look at me. "Spread your legs."

"What?" I said. I immediately started blushing and crossed my legs instead.

She frowned at me, stepped across the room, and leaned against the wall, looking at me.

"I thought you wanted to play," I told her after a moment.

"I do. I thought you did, too."

"I do. Come play."

"Spread your legs for me."

"It's embarrassing."

"Why?"

I couldn't come up with an answer. I unhooked my legs and slowly spread them. "Wider," she said.

"Karen, please."

"As wide as you can, Madeline," she said.

"Oh god," I said, but I spread my legs as wide as I could. She smiled, staring at me, and then slowly began walking across the room towards me, stalking me.

She climbed on the bed and slithered her way up me, finally reaching my lips and kissing me deeply. Her tongue pressed against my lips, and I opened for her. As always, she tasted wonderful.
She broke the kiss and moved down to my breast. Her lips teased my left nipple, and I squirmed under her. She pulled her mouth away from me and said, "Clasp the headboard, Madeline."

I figured out right then what she was doing, and I wasn't sure whether I wanted to play. I stared at her and she stared right back.

"If you don't want to play, we can stop," she said.

"You're a-"

"I'm a what?" she said sweetly.

I moved my hands above me and clasped onto the headboard. "You're a really good lover," I said just as sweetly.

"O
ne more pause, Madeline, and I will go
downstairs." And then she lowered her lips to my nipple again.

Her tongue was very clever, and what she did with her teeth caused me to gasp in pleasure.
Then her hands began caressing me while her mouth alternated from one nipple to the other. I squirmed and moaned under her touch.

"Close your eyes," and I closed them immediately. Seconds later, I felt her hand parting my labia and teasing my clitoris.

"Say my name," and when I did, her fingers moved into my vagina, teasing my clitoris. "Again," and I earned more attention on my nipples while her fingers continued to move in and out of me.

She continued to give small orders, and I obeyed every one, and every time I did, she increased the intensity of what she was doing to me.
I got closer and closer to climax.

"Say you are mine."

"I am yours, Karen."

"Keep saying it." And I did, over and over, panting and gasping in between, and then the climax arrived, and I was screaming, "Yours! Yours!" over and over until I collapsed to the bed, spent.

She settled down next to me, pulling me into her arms and giving me permission to hold her. I clutched at her, weakly whispering, "Yours, yours" as I continued to shudder every few seconds.

I eventually stilled but still clutched at her. She stroked my hair soothingly. I opened my eyes and looked at her.

"I know what you're doing," I said.

She smiled. "And yet you are helpless to resist."

"You are conditioning me to obey you."

"Yes, I am, and you are going to love every minute of it."

"It's not going to work."

"Oh Madeline," she said, smiling. "Of course it is."

I pouted for a moment. She began caressing me. "Close your eyes," she ordered. As soon as I closed my eyes, she began teasing my nipples again. "If you tell me you aren't enjoying what I'm doing, I'll stop."

"Yours," I said instead.

She kissed me deeply before pulling me from the bed.

* * *

That set the stage for our lovemaking the entire weekend. And I loved every minute of it.

* * *

By the end of January we were hosting two dinner parties a month, with a
milonga
afterwards. We paid Candace to come, and she gave lessons.

Between redecorating the house, learning more sophisticated cooking techniques, and taking care of Karen, I stayed busy.

But every time I met her for lunch, I looked around the office and sighed wistfully. I wondered how long it would be before I stopped missing the excitement of my job with Marsha.

The one thing that didn't become a problem was Karen's schedule. Sure, I would have liked to be able to count on her being home at six every night, but I couldn't. So I saved the fancy cooking for nights I knew she would be home, and I cooked things that were more time flexible the other nights.

In return, she lavished me with attention and love whenever she could.

Valentine's Day was rapidly approaching. On the first of February, Karen told me, "Do not plan anything for Valentine's Day. I am taking you somewhere for a long weekend. I am not telling you where."

I had just started planning a romantic night at home, but a long weekend sounded wonderful.
Valentine's Day that year was a Thursday. We left Thursday morning and drove the six hours to Bayfield, Wisconsin, arriving shortly after lunch. We checked into a beautiful Bed and Breakfast, and Karen had me naked five minutes later.

We spent half the afternoon making love, and it was wonderful. We took a walk around town after that,
then
got ready for dinner.

Dinner was long, romantic, and very lovely. I told her I was completely, utterly in love with her. She told me she felt the same way and that I was the best thing that ever happened to her. After dinner, we made love some more.

We spent the weekend making love, having amazing meals, and going for walks in and around Bayfield. It was pretty there with all their white snow. We drove on the ice of Lake Superior out to Madeline Island, which amused both of us immensely. On Sunday we made love again, then drove home.

It was an amazing weekend.

Monday, there was a crisis at work.
Kilador
was slammed with a lawsuit, and Karen didn't make it home until ten that night. Or Tuesday, or Wednesday. Thursday was midnight. Friday she called me and said she'd be working all weekend.

I offered to help, but there wasn't anything I could do.

I painted her office. She didn't notice for another week.

I wasn't mad at her about that. She came home exhausted each night. She stumbled home and went straight to bed. She didn't even want me to come upstairs with her, even when I offered to rub her back.

"I'm sorry, Madeline," she said.

It was impossible to be mad at her.

But I couldn't help starting to become bored.

On Monday she called me and asked if I could come to lunch. "Picnic?"

"No. Dress for a nice restaurant."

I showed up at eleven fifteen. Karen was in a meeting. I sat in her office browsing the
internet
on her computer until nearly noon. She walked in, and I looked up. She looked so tired and so beautiful. My heart was breaking just looking at her. I stood up, and she came around the desk, wrapping me in her arms and kissing me. We stood and held each other for a minute before she took my arm and led me from her office.

Over lunch she told me what was going on after making sure no one could overhear us. "One of our consultants did something stupid. It wasn't intentional, but it caused real loss for the client. They didn't have a choice but to sue us so that our insurance company would get involved. We've already completed the due diligence on what happened, and it's pretty cut and dried. There will be some sort of settlement, and now it's just a matter of negotiating the amount. That mostly means playing hard ball so they know we'll go to court if they force us to, then the insurance company's lawyers will negotiate."

"How long will you be so busy?"

"Another week, but it should settle down this week. I won't be home for dinners, but I won't be so dead, either. I hope you still want to dance with me."

I didn't tell her I wanted to find a job. She didn't need that on top of everything else.

* * *

By the end of February, I had finished the redecorating of the main areas of the house. I'd hired Fred for some of it; we painted the two-story rooms together, for instance, and he helped me install hangers for the tapestries I had bought. Karen loved everything I did, and as things had settled down at work, she showed her appreciation in the bedroom.

She was very good at showing her appreciation.

As far as I was concerned, my relationship with Karen was perfect. We connected physically, emotionally, and intellectually. Beyond the mind-blowing orgasms, she gave me something else I'd never gotten in previous relationships: respect. I also received something else I would never have guessed I would value: the knowledge that I was making her life much better.

That should seem obvious, right? Why be in a relationship with someone if it doesn't make your life better. But I'd never gotten that with the guys I had dated in the past. Sure, they enjoyed being with me, at least at the beginning of the relationship, but I never felt like I was critical to their happiness.

I felt fulfilled in ways I'd never thought I'd be fulfilled.

I loved most of it, too. I had never focused much on cooking, but I found I really enjoyed it, and I was getting pretty good. I had gotten to the point where even simple meals were artfully delivered. It wasn't just food, but it was also presentation. I felt proud about that.

The house looked great. My relationship with Karen was amazing. The home life was fantastic.

And I was bored out of my skull.

* * *

March came. Karen's work life was back to normal, and she was arriving home early on Fridays. The first Friday in March, I met her at the door. I helped her with her things and she pulled me into a deep, thorough kiss.