Submitting to Her (14 page)

"You too," I said, smiling myself. He was
like a big Labrador, or perhaps a golden retriever considering his
complexion. You couldn't hate him - it wasn't his fault my vice
president was using him as a pawn in her power games.

One last look passed between Zoey and myself
before I made a swift exit. I think I must have looked rather
pitiful, as though making a final appeal to a merciless one-woman
jury, while her eyes harbored a darkness that suggested I was in
for a rough night - and fully deserving of everything I got.

In that one cruel glance, I could see that
this was about more than simply my transgression the previous
night. This was payback for everything I'd put her through.

Though it chilled my heart more than ever, I
had no way to complain. I could have walked out of there - our
presentation was done, after all. We didn't need to be in
Philadelphia another night. But leaving now would be a sure-fire
end to our relationship, and I couldn't handle that.

I returned to our hotel rooms, and did
exactly as I had been told, though I felt so nervous and nauseous I
very nearly had to throw up my recent meal. As instructed, I opened
the door between our two hotel rooms wide, then extinguished the
lights.

Then, I sat on my bed for a long, agonizing
wait.

Alone in the dark, I waited for two
hours.

I had no idea when she might be coming back
to her room, when I would be released, but I had my instructions
and I did not want her to surprise me by returning quietly to find
me watching TV or lying sleeping in bed fully visible from next
door.

During that long wait, I had so much time to
think, to contemplate my failures as a human being and think about
what might have been, if only I'd been a nicer person during the
first six months of her promotion, not giving in to my baser
jealousy at being overlooked for promotion. Would she have ended up
starting this relationship with me?

I even I wondered if our whole relationship,
ever since that first Friday afternoon licking her boots in her
office, had been one big long set-up, all leading up to this point
where she could take real pleasure in twisting the knife in between
my shoulder blades.

The only brightness I could muster was that
this was some way of her dealing with our past, so our relationship
could be placed on some kind of even keel, upon which we could
build something more meaningful than just her crush and my fear of
losing my job.

Or maybe I was reading too much into this.
Maybe it was just a little teasing, a little psychological
punishment. Make me jealous by spending a little more time out with
her old flame, while I stewed back here in the hotel waiting for
her.

But if it was just punishment, when would
this punishment end? How far would she push it? In my research
about the whole dominant female thing, I'd read of some truly
frightening possibilities. Zoey hadn't appeared to be cruel before,
but that last look we'd shared before I left for the hotel had sent
shockwaves down by spine.

Perhaps she'd simply return home alone,
laughing at the jealousy that had oozed out of my every pore. But I
had to concede she did have some legitimate revenge issues to work
through.

In the darkness, I also thought about how I
felt about her - but did she feel the same way about me?

God, I felt like an angst-ridden teenager
again.

I kept coming back to that amazing kiss of
hers. While permission to go down on such a beautiful woman was
wonderfully intimate and thrilling, it was her tender moments that
really got to me. When she was in the mood to adore me as much as I
adored her, rewarding me with a taste of near-equality, it made me
think this was all real.

I tried to think positive thoughts through
that long wait, but knowing how badly I'd treated her in the past,
I knew I deserved something awful in return.

After such a long wait, when I heard the door
unlock in the room next door, I think I came close to suffering a
heart attack.

As I'd most feared, it was the two of them
returning to Zoey's room that night. She had, as I had increasingly
expected, brought the big blond Californian back with her, and I
got the sense that I was not going to be in for any kind of easy
let-off.

I heard their voices, and now suddenly found
myself dreading the very worst.

Was she expecting me to stay here? Or was she
assuming I'd see them arrive together, and either shut the door
between our rooms or simply vacate the hotel altogether, her
betrayal confirmed. I knew that closing the door would only lead to
more punishment if I decided to stick with this relationship - and
for all the poison that now raced around my veins, I did still
crave Zoey like an addict craves his drug.

What surprised me as I watched them enter the
room was the strange note of curiosity I now felt - a dark
compulsion to see what happened, how far Zoey intended to take
this. I had an almost scientific need to see what kind of pain she
intended to dole out, now she'd decided to inflict it on me. I was
like one of those people that slows to check out the scene of a car
accident.

I suspect that shock had somehow numbed me to
the horror, the adrenalin making me immune to the awful
anguish.

I sat feeling like an explorer preparing to
take on the Antarctic - I wanted to see what my body could take,
what I could suffer before it all got too much. Hopefully I'd
conquer it, I'd reach the South Pole, I'd come out the other side
stronger, more ready than ever to be the partner worthy of Ms Zoey
Schoenberg.

Maybe I'd come out the other side a wreck of
a man - but it would be no less than I deserved.

"No, it's just another room," I heard Zoey
say, no doubt in response to a question from her Tight End about
the open door. "They only had suites available, you know? Since the
company's paying..."

Were they going over towards the bed? I
wondered if there was a place I could be from where I could watch
without being detected. It would no doubt hurt more to see what was
going on, but the force of my curiosity was irresistible.

I lodged myself in the shadows by the side of
my bed, from which I could see in through the open door all the way
to the side of Zoey's bed. I was pondering how not so long ago I
had been lying on that mattress, satisfying her with my face wedged
firmly between her thighs.

Now, that handsome idiot Brandon launched
himself on to the bed, lying back against the headboard with a look
of clear expectation.

Was it just me, or had someone sucked all the
oxygen out of my room?

I could understand that Zoey might still have
the hots for her old college boyfriend - he was quite a specimen,
almost statuesque in his athletic masculinity. He lay there, back
against the pillows now, not even bothering to remove his shoes.
Even so, surely she'd get to a point where she'd decide I'd had
punishment enough.

"...just a co-worker..."

I could hear only traces of their voices, and
it was mainly her voice I could hear from where I was, the whisper
of the air conditioning masking the full details of their
conversation. Brandon in particular was hard to distinguish because
of the lower pitch of his voice.

"…God you look amazing, Zo…"

"…not so bad yourself…"

Zoey now hopped up on the bed and straddled
him, wearing nothing but her little black skirt and little black
top. She pulled herself up to kneel over his lap, her hands sliding
over his shoulders as she ducked down to kiss his mouth.

I gasped. Brandon's hands moved gently to the
back of her head as she kissed him with real affection. That caused
me real hurt.

"...so good, so hard..."

They seemed great together - so natural,
though it pained me seriously to accept it. Brandon stroked her
hair out of her face, and Zoey now caressed the back of his head,
pulling him up to her as they became passionate. I merely pouted in
the darkness, wandering what Brandon had done to deserve the reward
she was giving him.

Those little shoulder straps slipped aside,
and her black top now slid down her stomach to reveal her bare
breasts - no bra - so perky with nipples so dreadfully stiff.

He was turning her on. She loved it. Did she
now hate me? Was I nothing to her?

Zoey was rocking gently back and forth, no
doubt stirring her hot little pussy against Brandon's hideously
hard cock, although he was still wearing his jeans. He sat up,
hands holding her narrow waist as he clamped his lips over one of
Zoey's hard nipples.

"...like that? You... more?..."

His hands slipped down to her butt now,
pushing up her skirt to reveal smooth cheeks and a scandalously
scanty black thong, almost a G-string. He had big hands, which now
spread over her butt, coaxing her firm flesh, until she stopped him
by forcing the removal of his shirt.

Big hands - I knew what that was supposed to
signify. It seemed Brandon was perfectly selected to make me
insanely jealous, to really drive home the misery. My stomach was
tied up in knots.

He resumed kissing her breasts, and she
brushed her long flowing cocoa locks back over her shoulder, out of
the way. She fumbled to remove her skirt, lifting this leg and then
that, with Brandon helping her to pull it over her thighs and round
over her knees and calves. She kept her panties on, and even
covered her breasts up again with that thin black top.

Oh, but there went the top as well, upwards,
over her head.

And they were kissing again, hands gliding
over each others' heads, making me wonder whether this was proof
that my Zoey had nothing but contempt for me, and no plans other
than to hurt me, to avenge herself.

Yet I so craved her, even now. I was
considering whether there might be some way to signal to her that I
was still keen to serve her, even if she did no longer wish to give
me any rewards, kisses or otherwise.

"…oh shit…"

"…baby, you don't… waiting for this…"

God, she was sliding up and down on his lap
as though using a rowing machine. I could tell he must have been
hard, she must have been dry-humping his offensive weapon.

Then Zoey was fumbling with Brandon's belt,
sliding her body down his legs, ducking to kiss his lower abdomen,
just below that ridiculous washboard stomach that would have made
any woman wet her underwear at a hundred paces. From the way she
knelt over him, I couldn't quite see the monster, but as she slid
down further, her pussy grinding into the rough denim covering his
leg, suddenly there it was in her hands. Pale compared to the rest
of him.

Actually smaller than I'd feared.

Oh, but it was there, in her hand and in her
mouth. She was sucking another man's cock, right in front of
me.

"…that's it… suck it, baby…"

I felt bile filling my stomach, sharp,
ugly.

From where I sat, it appeared to take a while
to get him up to full hardness. She was licking him, sucking him,
taking his balls in her mouth. He stroked her hair, pulling it out
of her face, and she seemed to be trying every trick in the book to
coax him up into maximum stiffness. There was that irresistible
hope building in me, that this wasn't going to work. After all this
time, and all their history, these two were incompatible.

But, eventually, perhaps only slowed by
alcohol, the beast was fully awakened.

"…Mmm… I've missed this…"

For a moment or two, she continued to please
him with her mouth, pumping away with her hand while looking up at
him, appearing intent on being his faithful servant. She was so
different with him than she was with me - almost seemed like a
different girl. Zoey was subservient to this guy in the way I was
to her.

I was thinking it was about time Brandon
returned the favor now, wasn't it? Like I was a director leading a
porn shoot, I wanted to bark directions. Maybe I wanted to see a
direct comparison - could he make her squirm like I could with my
mouth? Part of me was hoping he couldn't, that it would clearly
show I was still relevant to her, still had value for my beautiful
Zoey. The other part of me hoped he could actually satisfy her
sufficiently that she wouldn't feel the need to go further with
him.

They were up, moving now, like it was the end
of a song and they were readying themselves for the next
choreographed dance number.

But no, no, it wasn't going the way I wanted
it. The director was not pleased. Brandon was kneeling up,
shuffling around, and Zoey was turning on a dime to present her
rear to him. No, I was not happy, I was really not happy. Cut!
Cut!

Was she really going to do this to me?

"…well, look at that…"

"…come on, do it…"

I felt my cheeks burning, I imagine they must
have been all flushed as my whole system was filled with white-hot
horror.

Brandon was holding his big hard cock up,
edging it closer to Zoey's pert behind, and I noticed that she had
positioned herself so I could see her pussy in full as the gross,
swollen tip of his organ touched against her delicate pink
petals.

She was showing me, she was really showing
me. God, he wasn't even going to use a condom.

Brandon's big, hard, godlike cock eased into
Zoey's pussy. My Zoey's pussy. She groaned, long and low, and then
he started a rocking movement, one hand placed on her lower back to
help guide the motion as he pumped into her from behind.

"Oh God, that feels so good…"

She looked back at him, and there was real
desire, real need in her face, with her mouth open to suck in air,
her brow slightly creased as though she was focusing hard on what
was happening to her.