More Than She Bargained For (closed)

The tension of the day had drained away. Vic was kind and reassuring. He was the balm to Amelia's raw emotions. When he took her hands, she felt her stomach tighten. She liked the feel of his hands on hers. They were warm and strong, larger than her own. They were distracting. She found it difficult to concentrate while his hands covered hers. So, it wasn't until it was too late that she realized he was calling it an evening, and she had no time to protest or prolong the inevitable parting.

Amelia's walk slowed as they left the lounge and headed into the parking lot. She didn't speak. Her thoughts felt jumbled and at war with the feelings that had coursed through her at Vic's touch.

"Well, I hope you have a good . . ." Amelia started to wish Vic a good night as she moved to climb into her car, but his hand on her arm stopped her words. Her breath caught as she let herself be turned. A frisson of heat spread through her at the look in his eyes. There was no misunderstanding the invitation of his fingers at her back.

They were already close. It took only a single step forward. Her full breasts pressed against his chest. Desire swept through her, pooling in her belly. She raised her hands to rest on his shoulders to help her balance as she rose up on tiptoe to touch her lips to his.

Vic felt his breath catch in his throat when Amelia's tender, full lips gently pressed against his. It seemed an eternity had passed before he felt the tip of her tongue sweeping across his teeth, requesting entry inside. Vic's mouth opened willingly igniting the flame of desire that had been smoldering since their first meeting. Her tongue probed tentatively at first, exploring, seeking its mate. Upon meeting, they engaged in a swirling, circling dance of passion. Only the need to fill their lungs with air stopped them.

Amelia's soft hands cupped his neck as she leaned her face back, her body still pressed up against his. Looking into her beautiful blue eyes, Vic took the back of his right hand and gently slid it against her cheek and brushed a renegade curl of blond hair off her face. Without saying a word, his left hand traveled down her spine until it reached the dip in her lower back. He pressed her even closer, wanting her to feel his bulging erection, feel his lust. His hand traveled further south, grasping her firm ass, leaving not a millimeter a space between them.

The first kiss was hers, he assumed full control of the second. A soft moan escaped her lips as their mouths opened wide, their tongues locked in a silent duel acting as surrogates to satisfy the want residing in their loins. Vic broke the kiss off fearing the friction her hips were creating as she rubbed them against his hard cock would make him cum. "Amelia" he whispered into her ear and he loosened his embrace and slowly stepped back.

His lips were still tingling as Amelia faced him, a soft smile across her lips. He knew he could have her, right there, right now, if he wanted but it wasn't the time or the place. She needed to get to her parents' and process all of just what happened. The silence was not awkward but Vic knew it needed to be broken.

"Look, I know I rudely cut you off a couple of minutes ago and I think you were about to wish me a good night. Tonight, honestly, was the best night I had in a long, long time and I hope you feel the same."

Vic gently nudged her toward the open car door. He knew the less said between them right now the better.

"Please call or text me when you get home and get settled. I just want to make sure you arrived safely."

Amelia got in her car and Vic closed the door. As she looked out the window her eyes were on level with his crotch which still had a noticeably protrusion. He wasn't embarrassed, in fact, he was happy she saw how she turned him on. Was she as wet as he was hard, he wondered.

A smile and a wave from inside the car and Amelia was off, leaving Vic standing in the parking lot, alone and wanting Amelia Grace Trent more than he could have ever possibly imagined.

* * *

"I heard from Janet Borenson this morning, Amelia. She said Jonathan has done nothing but talk about you since he had dinner here the other night. He was evidently very impressed. I'm so glad you wore that blue dress. It's so flattering on you and really helps hide that little pooch in your middle." Michelle Trent chattered at her daughter as she stirred sauce for the roast on the stove.

Amelia's hand reflexively flew to her flat stomach, self consciously brushing down the silky, pale pink blouse she was wearing over a floral skirt to make sure it laid straight. She bit her tongue and returned to her chore of setting the dining room table. Her mother continued to detail the conversation she had with Jonathan's mother, but Amelia managed to block most of it out. She had decided that tonight probably wasn't the best time to inform her mother that the boy in question had called earlier asking for a date which Amelia politely declined. Of course, she wasn't sure, but Jonathan had sounded almost relieved by her refusal. She honestly wondered if Janet Borenson had been stretching the truth just a little about her son's raptures.

A lilting melody sounded as Amelia fussed with pulling the last linen napkin through its holder. "Richard, will you answer the door?" Michelle called from her spot in the kitchen. Amelia's father, who had been staying out of the way, started from his chair in the sitting room to do as bid. Amelia jerked the napkin in place and dropped it. "Don't worry, Dad. I'll get it," she said, breezing past him with an affectionate pat on the arm.

Amelia stopped short at the solid front door. Memories of last night caused her lips to tingle and her cheeks to flush. Her heart beat quickened at the memory of Vic's mouth hot against her own, of the hard bulge in his slacks. Pushing the thoughts aside, Amelia pulled open the door.

Vic checked the address displayed on his phone one last time before pulling into the long circular driveway. Amelia had included the address along with the time and what was being served, a standing rib roast, in her "home safely" text from last night. There had been no communication since, although he half expected a call or text from her telling him that last night was all a mistake, what was I thinking..... But nothing all day so he guessed Amelia didn't have any second thoughts or regrets on how their evening ended.

Was there something there? As much as he wanted to think there was, truth be told he knew absolutely nothing about Amelia's sexual history. For all he knew, she still might be a virgin but the way she kissed him made that a pretty remote possibility. He also took note how she handled the subtle but unmistaken overtures from Jason at lunch last week and Brad last night. Especially last night as she made sure Brad got a real good look at her ass as she sashayed by him on her way out. No, Amelia knew what buttons to push and Vic was certain she was just waiting to find the right moment to start pushing his.

Today would not be that time as he was going to be strictly business today. He hadn't shared too much of his strategy with Amelia nor did he ask a lot about her parents. Mike had given him some background on them, enough to provide him context on what he might be walking into.

After parking on the drive's apron, Vic grabbed the bottle of wine he purchased for dinner, walked up the steps and rang the bell. Even the door chime sounded like money, he was sure that particular melody was not available for houses in his neighborhood.

A short wait and the large oak door open with Amelia standing next to it. Before Vic made it all the way in, a voice from directly behind her said, "Why you must be Vic. I'm Michelle. Welcome to our home. Amelia, please let the man in."

As Vic stepped in, Michelle noticed the wine he had in his hand.

"You've brought wine. How thoughtful. Here let me take that."

Upon seizing the bottle from his hand, she held it up for inspection.

"My, a 2014 Stags Leap estate bottled cab. You have excellent taste in wine. It'll pair quite nicely with the roast."

Well, it was either this $100 bottle or last week's vintage of Two Buck Chuck. Vic held his tongue. Michelle Trent did not appear to be the kind of woman who would enjoy engaging in clever repartee.

"Thanks but believe me I'm no expert."

Quickly dismissing his attempt at humility, she turned and handed the bottle to Amelia.

"Amelia, sweetheart, take this into the kitchen and open it and let it breathe for a bit."

Amelia took a step toward the kitchen and hesitated as if she were deathly afraid of leaving her mother alone with him. It was only when her father walked into the foyer that she continued her journey.

Michelle made the introductions and suggested they adjourn to the den as dinner would be a few more minutes. The Trents sat on a rich, dark leather sofa while Vic was situated directly across from them on one of the two matching chairs. Richard got up and went to the bar asking Vic if he cared for a before dinner drink. Vic passed but Richard did not, pouring himself and his wife two fingers of scotch.

After taking a sip of hers, Michelle got down to brass tacks.

"So Vic, tell us a little bit about your self. Where did you go to school and how long did you work for the government?"

I should have brought a fucking resume he thought but cheerfully filled them in on his educational and work history. Michelle was quick to point out the three year gap from the time he graduated to the start of his employment.

"I won the draft lottery," he said with a bit of an edge to his voice, "and got an all expense paid one year vacation to exotic Southeast Asia."

Luckily Amelia walked in and probably saved him from questions about that experience. Richard seemed to cede control of the direction of Vic's interrogation to his wife as she continued peppering him with questions. Amelia, who was seated on the couch with her parents, was growing more uncomfortable with each new set of inquiries.

"Are you married Vic, any children?"

Vic hesitated for a moment since this was always a bit awkward for him to answer.

"No and no. I've been a widower since 2000 and we never had any children."

Sharing a lot about his personal life was something he reserved for only a select few. The Trents were not going to make that list.

"Anyone special in your life right now?"

Richard nearly spilled his drink and Amelia looked horrified.

"Oh my God, Mother. Really. Vic, you don't......."

"That's Ok Amelia. I'll be happy to answer that."

Funny you should ask Michelle. There was about two years ago. After I retired, I was fucking one of my mentees, a young woman Amelia's age. Now, I'm thinking about fucking your daughter.

"No, I never really got back into dating after my wife died. Plus, after 9/11 the job changed and it really didn't leave me a lot of personal time."

Just then the oven's alarm sounded. Michelle jumped up from the couch.

"The roast is ready. Richard why don't you show Vic to the dining room while Amelia and I get dinner ready to serve."

Saved by the bell for now he thought. This was going to be a very interesting evening.

Amelia obediently followed her mother into the kitchen, already wishing this night was over. Her nerves were shot.

"Do you want to grab the salad, Amelia?" her mother asked as she pulled the roast from the oven.

What she really wanted was to be down at the Bar and Melody with an ice cold beer. And she didn't even drink beer. "Got it," she replied to her mother instead.

It was quick work getting the food to the table. Her mother really was a miracle in the kitchen. The roast was steaming and tender. The salad was crisp, with just enough dressing for good flavor without making the lettuce soggy. The baked potatoes were hot and easy to cut into, and the carrots added a splash of color to everyone's dinner plate.

As her father bowed his head to say a customary grace over the food, Amelia closed her eyes and prayed this dinner wouldn't be a disaster. She peeked over at Vic sitting across the table from her. She hadn't thought to warn him that her parents were religious. She hoped he wasn't offended. Of course, for all she knew, he could be religious himself, but he hadn't kissed her like he was religious last night. A flood of warmth suffused her body at the thought, and Amelia dropped her gaze, squeezing her eyes shut and willing the warm tingling memory away. She had to stop losing focus on why he was here! She felt like a teenager again, introducing her first boyfriend to the family. But she wasn't in high school any more, and Vic wasn't her boyfriend or a date. The problem was she wasn't sure what he was after their short interlude the night before.

The clink of china brought Amelia out of her thoughts. Her eyes flew open and her cheeks flushed as she realized she'd missed the ending of her father's grace. Her mother smiled at her as if she believed that Amelia had been deep in prayer, while her father seemed not to have noticed as he cut into his roast. She glanced across the table to check that Vic wasn't horribly put out. He seemed composed. She flashed him a bright white smile, wondering if anything ever threw him.

Dinner went better than Amelia expected. Amelia's mother had dropped her inquisition for the moment, and they stuck to mundane topics such as weather and business. Her mother was delighted to learn of their mutual acquaintances in the Stafford family which helped to break the ice. Little by little, Amelia found herself relaxing and smiling a bit more naturally. By the time they were ready for dessert, Amelia was ready to broach the real reason for their little dinner party.

As her mother dished up slices of apple pie, Amelia looked to Vic for courage before she jumped in. "Dad," Amelia started with her father. Despite his unruffled air of tolerance, she knew her father would be the biggest battle in the field ahead. Her mother, while sharp and opinionated, would eventually follow his lead. Her father on the other hand was as immovable as stone once his mind was made. "I want to let you know that I've decided to postpone law school. I'm going to start a mission for refugees instead."

At Amelia's bald declaration, Michelle Trent froze to stare at her daughter with a slice of pie only half way to the plate. Richard Trent simply leaned back in his chair with raised brows. Amelia, realizing she may have been too blunt, tried to plunge ahead with the outline of her plan that she'd given Vic. But Michelle remained frozen with pursed lips, and her father's eyes narrowed. With their obvious disdain showing, Amelia cast a pleading look to Vic in hopes he might just help pull her out of the quagmire she'd created.

Vic was pleasantly surprised that dinner had put a damper on Michelle's interrogation. Perhaps Amelia's outburst had something to do with it but more than likely not. Whatever the reason, he was relieved that the Trents seemed more relaxed, their conversation not forced or stilted.

The tension that gripped Amelia dissipated as well. On several occasions, she cast a bright, warm smile Vic's way. While he had been quite successful at keeping his mind to the task at hand, her full sensuous lips and the thought of their tongues engaged in a war of passion the previous evening prompted a sense of yearning deep within his loins. He wondered if she was experiencing the same.

He sensed that Amelia was waiting for the right moment to discuss the issue that led to Vic's dinner invitation. Since they had not discussed how this would come about, he would allow Amelia to take the lead and see where the conversation was headed. He had several plans of action in mind but needed to understand the family dynamic before deciding on what might work best.

Michelle had just finished pouring coffee and was in the middle of serving the pie, when Amelia gave Vic the look that signaled the time had arrived.

"Dad."

Richard sat up and waited for her to continue. Vic could already see he was a man whose word was law, a man who needed to be in control. Fortunately, if Vic's assessment was correct, he had plenty of experience in dealing with that attitude to make it a win-win for everyone.

"I want to let you know that I've decided to postpone law school. I'm going to start a mission for refugees instead."

There was an incredulous look on Michelle's face. Amelia actually dared to challenge her father's wishes? Richard said nothing but his silence spoke
volumes. Amelia began to detail her plan but the last words Richard heard were, "I've decided." Vic knew Richard made all the decisions in the Trent household.

The key was to make Richard still believe he was in control, that he had options available to impose his will on his daughter. He was not that much different than Erica's father so Vic would employ the same tactics that proved to be so successful that fateful night four years ago.

Amelia's presentation was losing steam, her resolve threatened by Richard's obvious lack of interest. Her furtive glance begged Vic to intercede. He knew it was time to jump in before Richard had a chance to speak and dash her hopes forever.

"If I may," Vic began, quickly getting both of her parents' attention, "please allow me to try to put Amelia's plan and her desire to engage in some public service type of work into context for you."

For the next 30 minutes Vic provided some information that was unknown to all three of them. After meeting Amelia for lunch last week, Vic paid a visit to Gerald Hansen, the director of a community based organization that contracted with the federal government to oversee refugee placement in the area. He shared Amelia's plan with him and while he thought it was an excellent proposal, he felt she would benefit from gaining additional experience by working on a daily basis with that population. It just so happened, he was about to announce a one year, paid internship to do just that. Vic persuaded him to interview Amelia before advertising the position to see if it would be something of interest to her and a fit for him.

"So, this would give your daughter a chance to get her feet wet and see if this is really what she wants. Amelia told me about her experience this past summer and how impactful it was to her. The internship would be just the type of exposure to allow her to make an informed decision."

At first Richard seemed much more interested in pie and coffee but when Vic didn't come right out and endorse Amelia's choice and instead proposed something that Richard would see as a wake up call for her, his attitude changed. Vic picked up on that fact was about to deliver coup de grace.

"In fact," he offered, "Amelia may find law school an even better way to serve this population. Most refugees are confused and sometimes overwhelmed with their new surroundings. Some of these difficulties result in the need to seek legal advice. I know there are some lawyers who specialize in this area."

A sly smile creased Richard's face. Vic could almost see the wheels turning in his head. Perhaps he just might agree to let her try this foolish venture. After a year, or maybe even six months, she would come to her senses and enroll in law school.

Vic, not wanting to lose momentum continued.

"The pay is nothing to speak of, enough to keep a roof over her head. gas in her car and food on her table. But, I think the both of you should be proud of the values you have instilled in your daughter, her sense of commitment and wanting to reach out and help those not as fortunate. It is truly a reflection on how she's been raised."

He had him and he didn't even realize it. Richard only listened to Amelia as a courtesy, to give her the feeling he would base his decision on the merit of her work, knowing full well his answer would be a big fat "no." His reason to listen to Vic was the same, a courtesy. However, what he failed to realize was Vic knew how to craft a message that would give Amelia what she wanted but give him the impression he would have final say in the matter. He would let Amelia take that internship only to prove to her that father knows best. Michelle would happily go along, anything to keep peace in the family.

All this time Vic had purposely averted any eye contact with Amelia. He gambled that she knew he wasn't selling her or her plan out, that she knew how her father would react and would recognized Vic's skill in getting him to approve. Gaining her confidence and trust were of paramount concern to Vic, especially if he wanted to have that same "special" kind of relationship that he enjoyed with Erica with her.

Richard took a sip from his cup of coffee and leaned back in his chair.

"Based on our earlier discussion with you Vic it very apparent you have had a lot of practical experience working in this area and mentoring young people like Amelia. You've made a compelling case for her choice and as long as you continue to assist her and we revisit this in six months, I think Michelle and I would go along with Amelia postponing law school at the present time. That is if Amelia is willing to be interviewed and is accepted for the internship."

Michelle appeared to be taken aback by his decision. But Vic knew there was no way she would challenge him. No, she'd go along and probably blame that damn Brooke Stafford for filling her daughter's head with nonsense.

Knowing that it would best if he let the three of them sort all of this out, Vic got up from the table.

"I know you all have a lot to discuss and I'll let you get to it. I want to thank you for having me over to your beautiful home and for the wonderful dinner. Amelia is a special young woman, as I'm sure both of you know, and one you should be very proud of. I'm positive that this will be a great experience for her and provide her with some perspective on her future. Amelia has my number if you have any questions. Thanks again for everything, it was a pleasure to meet both of you."

Richard got up and shook his hand and offered to show him out. Just as they reached the foyer, Vic turned back and caught Amelia's attention.

"Oh and Amelia please give me a call when you have a chance so we can set up the interview."

With that he was out the door and in his car. As he drove home, he began to wonder if Amelia would feel anything more for him. Last night he knew from that kiss there was something brewing between them. Would what happened at dinner today, gaining her parents' approval, have the same effect on her as it did on Erica after he convinced her parents that taking the assignment in Sierra Leone was the right thing to do for her and her career.

It was almost a year into their "special" relationship when Erica, out of the blue, made a startling revelation. They were both getting dressed after a satisfying couple of hours in bed when she bluntly told him,

"You know Vic, that night we had dinner with my parents and you changed their minds about me going Africa, I knew right after you left the restaurant I was going to end up fucking you. It was just too bad I had to wait a year until you retired."

So far the similarities between their situations were uncanny. Vic could only hope they would continue.

Amelia was stunned. Dumbfounded. She sat mute through Vic's presentation. It wasn't what they had agreed on. He'd mentioned nothing about an internship last night. He was supposed to be backing her up, not introducing a whole new plan! His betrayal washed over her. She sat there, perched on the edge of her mother's straight back dining room chair, and watched as Vic charmed her parents, and before she knew what was happening, she heard her father agreeing that she could postpone law school if accepted for the internship.

White hot fury flooded Amelia, at her father, at Vic. She couldn't look at either of them as they discussed her, what she should or shouldn't do as if she wasn't present in the room. An internship! She had no intention of skipping out of law school for an internship. Wasn't this past summer enough? She thought Vic had approved of her own plans. Hurt warred with her anger. She kept her gaze down, focusing on the wood grain of the table before her as she attempted to conceal the battle in her eyes. She managed a smile and a nod to Vic as he took his leave, but she didn't speak. And she didn't look, not even when he turned back. She simply nodded once to show she had heard his request, then he was gone.

Amelia didn't linger long after Vic left. She'd intended to stay one more night with her parents before returning to her own apartment, but she couldn't handle her mother's peppering questions or her father's self-righteous silence after this new turn of events. Amelia kissed them both good night and climbed into her Bug. She was turning onto the freeway before she finally admitted to herself that of course she would apply for the internship, but it was three shots of liquor later before she had the desire to call Vic.

The blonde fellow, she thought he said his name was James, offered to buy her another shot, but Amelia declined. Her good sense hadn't completely deserted her. Instead, she introduced him to Brooke who had come down to the corner bar with her after hearing the results of the evening. Brooke had at first tried to defend Vic's actions, but Amelia refused to listen, even though a little voice told her what Brooke said made sense. But her ego was bruised.

Amelia found a secluded spot by a front window where the signal reached her phone, while Brooke and blonde guy enjoyed another shot at the bar. She found Vic's number and listened to it ring, not considering the late hour.

By the time Vic pulled into his garage, the pleasant memories of Erica and how all those "coincidences" would lead to a similar relationship with Amelia, had been replaced with the reality of the mess left behind at the Trent residence. It seemed the pleasant, smiling, engaging young woman who greeted him upon arrival had disappeared and in her stead a woman who refused to make eye contact or speak to him as he left. Sitting in the car, he began replaying the evening's events, reviewing them like an athlete watching game film, analyzing his performance.

"What a fucking idiot," he shouted as he banged his hands on the steering wheel, 'how could I be that stupid."

He fucked up and he knew it. Instead of sharing his plan with Amelia last night, especially letting her know about the internship, he decided what was best for her. Just like her father. No wonder she was pissed. In her eyes, Vic had defected to the other side and turned the evening into a clusterfuck of biblical proportions.

Vic took great pride in his ability to read people and situations but was ever vigilant to never allow that pride cross the border to unerring arrogance. Over the years he learned that one could survive a bad decision as long as it didn't end up being a bad mistake. To prevent that from happening, there was only one thing to do. Apologize, offering no excuses, just an outright admission of fucking up royally.

Once inside the house, Vic let Ernie out and headed toward the liquor cabinet. Halfway there, he stopped and thought better of it. He remembered the last time he drank with Amelia on his mind. Better to go to bed with a clear mind. He'd call her in the morning. Tonight she needed some space. Ernie came back in and the both of them headed off to sleep.

At first he thought it was a dream, his cell buzzing on the nightstand. Turning over and wearily opening one eye, Vic saw the faint bluish light casting a shadow on the bedroom wall. No, someone was calling. Who was it and what the fuck time was it anyway?

He grabbed the phone and stared at the screen. Amelia and 1:15 AM. Painfully aware nobody ever called after midnight with good news, Vic pressed "Accept" and answered with a question knowing full well what her response would be.

"Amelia, is everything alright?"

"What the hell was that, Vic?" In her fury, Amelia didn't even bother with hello or answering his question. The niceties and proper behavior had been washed away with the alcohol she consumed. "You didn't even ask. You didn't tell me. I don't want your fucking internship! Why the hell did you even come over?"

The bartender was watching her warily as he wiped down the far end of the bar. Brooke and blondie were too engrossed in their shot game to notice. Amelia turned her back to them and faced the window. "He's such an ass. He thinks I'm going to join his firm or marry one of his lawyers. I'm not. I'm not! He'll know it by the time I'm finished with the internship." Words poured out of her, without compunction or obvious connection. "I want to kiss you again. I liked it. I wanted to at the door, but I hate you. I don't understand why." Amelia trailed off, her rant finally slowing.

Vic knew enough to let Amelia finish venting before saying anything. Her outburst had a stream of consciousness quality, flowing, disjointed, addressing a full range of emotions and subjects. The kind of internal monologue the right amount of alcohol could set free for public consumption.

She was definitely under the influence. Not to the point where the ol' "in vino veritas" thing was not applicable but certainly enough to have her end up in jail, or perhaps worse, should she decide to get behind the wheel. That would be something, no matter how he might try to rationalize it, Vic would always blame himself for making happen.

There was enough background noise to let him know she was at a bar. He needed to find out where so he could drive there and make sure she got home safely. She could also choose to tell him to fuck off. If that happened, he could at least call the bar to make sure she got in a cab or he could always call Brooke. Either or, there was no way he could let her drive tonight.

An uneasy silence had settled in, sending Vic a signal it was safe to speak.

"Amelia, you have every right to hate me. I hate myself for the way I ambushed you at dinner tonight. Please tell me where you are so I can come there and we can talk. I can't stand the thought of you being angry with me. I was so wrong and I need to tell you how sorry I am."

Amelia slipped down onto a hard seat at a dirty table there by the window. She nodded her head to Vic's words, though of course, he couldn't see her. The fight was slowly draining away.

"I'm at the West End on the corner. Brooke's here. She's talking to . . ." Amelia paused trying to remember blondie's name. "James? I think. I think he wants to fuck her. Brooke is so pretty. If I were a guy, I'd want to fuck her."

Amelia crossed her slim legs and propped an elbow on the table. She rested her hand in her chin as she watched the antics of James and Brooke across the room. "But I'm not. I want to fuck you. I thought about it yesterday, all day, what it would be like. I felt it all the way to my toes when you kissed me. Not like Anthony. I hate Anthony. Do you know Anthony, Vic? He's trying to be a doctor. Makes me sick." Amelia giggled at her sad joke. "Dad and mom liked Anthony, but they were wrong. They're wrong about law school too."

Amelia turned silent again. The anger in her voice and posture completely dissipated, turning her more melancholy.

"Ok, Amelia, you can tell me all about Anthony when I get there. Should be about 20 minutes or so. Just sit tight and wait for me, OK?"

Vic ended the call not waiting for her to reply. He didn't want to get engaged in a lengthy discussion, he just wanted to get over there ASAP. He threw on some clothes and ran out the door.

Once on the road, he scrolled thru his contacts and rang Brooke's number. She picked up on the second ring.

"Vic, have you talked to Amelia?"

"Yeah, just got off the phone with her. I'm headed over to the West End now. Are you still there?"

"Yes, I am. How long before you get here?"

"Maybe another 15 minutes. Do me a favor and keep an eye on her and for God's sakes don't let her get in her car."

'No, don't worry I won't. She's just sitting at a table staring out the window. See you in a bit."

As he drove, he could still hear Amelia's words in his head. "I want to fuck you. I thought about it yesterday, all day....." He had no idea how the rest of the evening would pan out but one thing he knew for certain. They wouldn't be fucking. Amelia was emotionally fragile right now and very drunk. Vic would never think of capitalizing on her vulnerability for his own pleasure. Besides, that's not want he wanted for her. He wasn't looking for a quick fuck or getting his cock sucked. No, he wanted to take Amelia on a journey of sexual discovery and awakening. A journey filled with new experiences, a journey to a world of pleasure she could never have imagined existed. Just like he did with Erica. But to do that he needed to gain her trust and confidence. A process that would start tonight.

When Vic arrived he spotted Brooke in a booth sitting on some guy's lap, their bodies entangled in a way only horny 20 somethings could manage. Seeing Vic walking toward her, Brooke extricated herself with the ease of a skilled contortionist.

'She's over there," Brooke motioned with her head, "just sitting and staring since she got off the phone with you. Vic, she's really pissed and really drunk. I tried to talk some sense into her but I don't think I made a dent."

"Thanks for trying but she's got good reason to be pissed. I fucked up, not just a little, a whole fucking lot. For now, all I want to do is take her back to......."

"Your place," Brooke interjected not allowing him to finish. "Oh please Vic. My plans have changed since I got here," she said as she looked back at the blond guy in the booth, "and babysitting Amelia is not part of those plans if you catch my drift. Look, take her back to your house, let her sleep it off and you guys can hash it all out in the morning."

Vic was about to protest but Brooke cut him off before he could get started.

"It'll be fine. Besides Amelia loves dogs, she'll love Ernie and you're a doll for doing this." She stood on her tiptoes and pecked him on the cheek. "Seriously Vic, she needs you to help her. She's smart, passionate and really wants to be her own woman and you're just what she needs to make that all happen. Now just go get her."

Brooke twirled away headed back to the booth while Vic cautiously made his way over to where Amelia was sitting. She was slouched down in her chair, her back to him. Vic could only see the top of her shoulders, her blond curls cascading down her pink blouse. Her posture told him she was sad, defeated. He felt like a real asshole.

She still hadn't turned as Vic stood beside her. He was apprehensive, not knowing what to expect, how she would react to his presence. It was with a fair amount of trepidation that he reached out with his hand and touched her lightly on the shoulder.

"Amelia, I am so very sorry for misleading you. Please forgive me."

Amelia wasn't mad anymore. She stared out the bar window, watching the occasional headlights flash by. A neon sign advertising Budweiser beer flashed outside the window. Between flashes, she could see her own reflection. She looked sad, sad and tired, like an old woman. A giggle escaped her lips at the thought of herself as a tired old woman at the ripe age of 23. As quick as the laughter came, it died. Where was she going from here? The internship with Vic? Law school? A date with Jonathan Borenson? Maybe she should have married Anthony. She dropped her head into her hands as her thoughts swirled, which is how she missed Vic pulling up and coming into the bar.

A hand touched her shoulder. Amelia nearly jumped out of her skin and spun around in her chair. Her blue eyes met his brown and widened in surprise. She hadn't expected him to come here. Though perhaps he had said he would. She didn't really remember what he'd said on the phone. His words made her pause, stop and consider him. She took in his appearance with a sweeping glance: the mussed hair, the hastily thrown on clothes. The remorse in his words and eyes tugged at her heart strings. She didn't want to fight with him, and she knew she wasn't thinking quite straight. Perhaps another shot would help.

"It's okay," she said lightly, straightening in her chair and dismissing the whole situation with an airy wave of her hand as if it hardly mattered.

"I'm going to get another shot. Would you like one?" she asked, rising to her feet in a graceful motion that belied the alcohol she had already consumed.

"It's okay." Amelia motioned with her hand as if she held a magic wand capable of making the evening's disastrous events vanish. The sense of surrender in the inflection of her voice made Vic feel even worse. What was the next level up from asshole? Douche????

"I'm going to get another shot. Would you like one?" With an impressive display of balance, Amelia got up from her chair. The steadiness of her stance and the clarity of her voice did not fool Vic. He knew from experience how the alcohol effected her thought process and allowed her mind to drift to a gloomy place full of uncertainty.

"Let me get it," Vic said as he side stepped his way to the bar, one eye watching where he was going, the other on Amelia. "I'll be right back."

Putting a five on the bar and pointing to the stack of large Styrofoam cups stacked by the coffee machine, Vic asked the bartender to fill one with ice and water. After securing a lid and a straw, he turned back to Amelia's table. Brooke was sitting next to her whispering in her ear. Once she finished the conversation, she got up and met Vic as he approached.

"I told Amelia I was leaving with James and you were taking her back to your place. We kinda have this understanding about bringing somebody back to the apartment and the need for privacy although it seems I'm the only one to be doing it lately. Anyway she didn't say anything but I think she's cool with it. I'm guessing she'll crash as soon she hits the bed. She's still pretty wasted."

Brooke reached back and picked something up off the chair behind her.

"Here's her bag," she said slipping it up Vic's free arm until the handles rested in the crook of his elbow. "I hid it after her third shot."

It was the same bag Amelia had brought to their lunch last week. Vic peeked inside and saw the vanilla folder that held her plan. Shaking his head, his guilt soaring to new heights, he wondered what came after douche.

As Brooke started for the door where the blond guy waited, she turned and faced Vic.

"Things will be better in the morning. I know you'll work it all out with her. She needs you, Vic. I'll text you in the morning to check on her."

Vic, his confidence shaken, wasn't quite as optimistic. Amelia had resumed her position of facing the window. Not wanting to startle her again, he walked around and faced her.

"Here's your drink," he said handing her the cup, then offering his other hand to her, "let's head back to my place."

Amelia accepted the white Styrofoam cup Vic handed her with a small frown. "This is not a shot," she informed him, arching a single eyebrow. But she put the straw to her lips and took a little sip of the ice water anyway, as her other hand slipped into his.

His hand was warm and large. Amelia's cold fingers held his tight as she rose from the chair in which she'd sat back down. "Brooke is going to go fuck at our place," she stated. Releasing his hand and setting the cup on the table, Amelia stepped forward into Vic's personal space. She placed her hands on his chest and slid them up around his neck. She leaned into him and stretched, arching her back and pressing her breasts against his chest. Amelia tilted her head back and smiled up at Vic. "Are we going to your place to fuck?" she teased, certain in her inebriated state that is what he intended.

"Are we going to your place to fuck?"

With Amelia's fingers laced behind Vic's neck, their bodies locked together like two matching pieces of a jigsaw puzzle. He felt the warmth of her firm breasts against his chest. The friction created by the subtle thrusts of her hips made his cock swell, its need to be sated begged him to tell her yes, yes we're going back to my place so I can fuck the living shit out of you.

The voice of reason in his head began chanting, "Don't let a bad decision become a bad mistake." Vic knew what he wanted for Amelia and himself. Having Amelia wake up tomorrow with the mother of all hangovers and the horror of finding a 65 year old man next to her in bed was not the best first step to achieving his goal. Although Vic suspected that Amelia wanted him, he needed to be absolutely sure. Her current condition precluded her from making any rational choices tonight. Deciding to fuck her would must definitely end up being a very bad mistake.

It was going to be a true test of his self control and patience not to do it. She smiled at him seductively, her beautiful blue eyes displayed a remarkable clarity despite the amount of booze she had consumed. Fuck, this is going to be hard.

Vic peeled his body from hers, grabbed her water from the table. He gently placed his right arm around her waist to steady her and guide her toward the door.

"How about we just get you back to my place so you can get some sleep. We'll have plenty to talk about tomorrow."

Amelia went meekly. She reveled in the warmth of his arm around her waist, as she followed him out. She walked with an exaggerated sway to her slim hips to feel his hand move with her. While he held the door for her, she slipped past him slowly, looking up at him with a feline smile and an obvious invitation in her gaze. With more than a foot of space available in the doorway, she brushed against him, pressing close and sliding her soft body across his firm one.

Amelia waited patiently by Vic's car for him to unlock it. She hummed a little to herself, swaying back and forth. Climbing into the car, her skirt rose high along her toned thighs, but Amelia didn't care. She watched Vic from the corner of her eyes. Despite his gentle rebuff inside the bar and bolstered by the alcohol flowing through her veins, Amelia felt confident in her powers of persuasion. Of course, she'd have to wait until they got there. Amelia leaned back in the seat and turned her head to study Vic.

"How far is it to your place?" Amelia asked, reaching across the divide to lay her hand on his thigh.

She was his for the taking Vic thought, as he sat behind the wheel. Perhaps it was the alcohol talking, persuading her to throw herself at him but there was something in her eyes that made "in vino veritas" a very relevant consideration.

Before starting the RAV 4, he glanced over to make sure Amelia had fastened her seatbelt. Her skirt was now situated a scant couple inches south of her hips and exposed a vast expanse of smooth, taut thigh. She looked at him with a measured gaze, no doubt to assess his mood to see what she might try next to spark some reaction.

Just as he reached for the gear shift, he felt a presence on his thigh. In spite of the cool sensation on his skin, a current of heat coursed through his body. He looked down and saw her finely manicured hand resting on his leg. His first instinct was to remove it, return it to its rightful place on the other side on the console. He couldn't because the way it rested on his leg, its appearance right down to the color of her nail polish took him back three years, his last day at the office. He put the car in drive and started home.

It was 5:45 on a Friday evening. Vic was seated in front of an open file cabinet drawer sorting out old folders. The staff threw him a going away party that lasted a lot longer than planned. Since he didn't want to make a special trip back to the office on Monday to finish cleaning out his desk, he decided to just stay and get it done.

He thought everyone had gone but the unmistakable click of high heels on the linoleum floor told him otherwise. A few seconds later Erica walked into the office and closed the door behind her. She pulled a chair next to his and sat beside him. Suddenly he felt her hand on his thigh. And just like Amelia's hand, Vic wanted to remove it but he didn't.

Erica then asked him if he was officially retired and no longer her boss. Vic wasn't sure where this was all headed. When he answered yes, her hand began inching its way up toward his crotch. He recalled verbatim her next words.

"So that means you wouldn't have any professional or ethical issue if you wanted to fuck me would you? I mean if you wanted to because I think you really want to. And you know what Vic, I really want you to"

He sat there stunned, speechless for a moment. Yes, he did want to fuck her but he knew it was all wrong on so many levels. The age difference, almost 40 years, was one but he was her mentor and he cared a great deal for her. His job was to teach her, guide her, give her the tools to have a successful career, not to harbor carnal thoughts about her.

Yet there he was seated next to a sexy young woman who just told him she wanted to fuck him. With the erection under his trousers set on a collision course with her touch, his thoughts turned to the unthinkable. She was absolutely correct, he did want to fuck her. Ever since he saw her in that black dress in DC two months prior, that was all he thought about, all he masturbated over. Do I do this, can I do this, he remembered thinking.

It had been two years since Vic had been with a woman. As conflicted as he was over what was happening, he knew he wasn't that strong to walk away from it. Especially since her hand began gently rubbing his cock.

Vic grabbed her hand and lifted it away from his leg. Erica looked disappointed, as if she had done something wrong. That concern was quickly dispelled when Vic brought her to her feet, pulled her close and kissed her. It was a raw, passionate kiss, one with a sense of need and urgency. Their mouths remained locked as he maneuvered her to the front of his desk and lifted her up on it. When he broke the kiss off, he motioned with his hand for her to slide all the way back on it until her back was against the wall. What happened next turned out to be her first lesson under Vic's sexual mentorship.

A honk of a horn from the car behind him brought Vic back to the present. Amelia's hand still rested on his thigh and the recollection of that last day at work had made him hard. Perhaps, he wondered, maybe he could employ the same strategy with Amelia. Why mess with success, right?

The flashing yellow light on a street sign ahead set off the same in his brain. He always relied on proven, time tested solutions with some modifications. But he thought about what happened earlier that day. How'd that work for you, Vic?

With about ten minutes left before arriving home, Vic should be concentrating on how to solve tonight's dilemma. Instead, with his cock dangerously close to Amelia's soft hand, his mind went right back to that night in his office three years ago.

. . .

As Vic pulled away from the light, Amelia spoke for the first time since leaving the bar, admonishing him to concentrate on his driving. How the fuck can I not be distracted with your hand rubbing my thigh he wanted to tell her but bit his tongue. He liked what she was doing and while he wanted to attribute his growing erection to his flashback, the truth was her soft, delicate hand caressing his leg was the real culprit.

Her concern led Vic to believe that maybe she was sobering up. However, that notion was quickly dispelled when she began a repetitive chant to "keep driving" like a schoolgirl taunting an adversary on the playground. That, coupled with the fact her fingers were exploring new territory, was going to make the remainder of the drive very long and torturous.

At the next light, the chanting stopped. Then in a deep, throaty tone Amelia told him, "When you stop driving the car, Vic, you can drive inside of me."

Vic, who had avoided any eye contact during the trip, looked over at her. She had struck a pouting, seductive pose, her eyes ablaze with passion, the coiled sexual energy rose from her body like steam off of heated asphalt after a July thunderstorm. Her fingers rested on top of his erection that showed in a straight line under the fabric of his light grey trousers. A dime sized wet spot appeared at the very end of that line, precum that soaked through his boxer briefs.

He needed to pull off some where soon because this was an accident just waiting to happen. Mike Stafford's tech company was in an office complex a couple of blocks ahead. There was an unattended five deck parking structure attached. A perfect spot to stop and collect himself. He turned left at the next light.

There were a few cars scattered on the first level so Vic headed up the ramp to the second. A lone car occupied a space near the down ramp. He pulled into a spot on the opposite end, threw the SUV in park, opened the door and jumped out before Amelia had a chance to ask what were they doing there. He wouldn't be able provide an answer because he wasn't quite sure himself.

Leaning against the driver's side door, Vic took a moment to think this through. His trip down memory lane earlier reminded him of how conflicted he was that evening, just as he was now. The same red flags were flying just as high tonight. But the same held true for his desire for sexual satisfaction. His solution then worked perfectly and given the similarities that existed, there was no reason it wouldn't tonight.

As he started toward the passenger side door, last night's fiasco reared its ugly head. It wasn't flawed thinking, he reasoned, the idea was sound, it was his execution that was fucked. No, this was going to work. Buoyed with his confidence restored, Vic continued walking.

When he opened the car door, Amelia was slouched down in her seat. Her skirt had crawled even higher up her leg and she obviously wasn't too worried on how much skin was displayed. Vic's right hand reached across her lap and unfastened the seat belt. He placed that same hand on her shoulder and with his left he pulled on the lever at the side of the seat and gently guided her down as the seat fully reclined.

Vic stepped back and pressed his back against the open door and observed the beautiful young woman before him. The security lamp above the car bathed her body in a faint white light, giving her skin the appearance of fine porcelain. There was an element of risk in what he was about to do, a danger of being caught. He encountered that same risk with Erica in his office. Just that chance made his cock even harder. He could feel a surge of precum leaking from his opening, the spot on his slacks expanding. Did Amelia notice, he wondered.

Placing a foot on the door's threshold, he leaned over, his face inches away from hers. In a soft, reassuring voice, barely above a whisper, he began to speak.

"Amelia, let's assume theoretically of course, that I want to fuck you. How do you imagine that happening?"

Vic straightened up and retreated back against the door. Not giving Amelia time to respond, he resumed his monologue, the inflection in his voice a bit harsher.

"That's a rhetorical question because I know exactly how it would happen. Once again theoretically."

Although the setting was different, an office as opposed to a car, Vic was following the same script he used with Erica. What Vic was about to say next and how he said it would signal the start of her sexual education. Vic was convinced it would do the same for Amelia. He knew from the day he first laid eyes upon her at Brooke's party she would somehow become his next student. Because, just as Erica predicted, he saw it in her eyes.

"What you're going to do for me Amelia is take your hands and touch yourself as I would. I want you to use your hands to touch your flesh like they were my hands, my fingers, my tongue. Show me how I would make your panties a sopping wet mess. Spread those beautiful legs wide open for me and show me how I'd do it."

The tone of his voice made it perfectly clear Vic was not asking her, he was ordering her. This was the first of a series of orders that were to be followed explicitly, never to be questioned. Slipping his right hand into his pocket, Vic made no effort to disguise the fact he was touching himself.

"What are you waiting for, Amelia?"

. . .

Vic watched Amelia's fingers dance seductively down her bare thighs, then change course and walk their way back up the insides until they reached her panties. A small wet spot darkened the shiny light purple material that covered her entrance. She paused for a quick second before one finger ducked underneath the fabric, her gasp announcing the arrival at its destination.

"Would you start with only one finger or two?"

Why was he not surprised at her asking a question. After all, in her mind she was the temptress, the one in control. Her query indicated she thought she still had options, room to maneuver, he really wasn't ordering her what to do, it was more of a request, a negotiable one.

This is how it started out with Erica in his office three years ago as she sat on his desk, her knees pulled to her chest, her skirt bunched at her hips. When he told her to spread her legs, she balked and asked him why. She was the one who was doing the seducing. Even though in the two years they worked together she had never heard Vic raise his voice, order her to do something with such authority in his tone, he was kidding wasn't he? She had what he wanted and she would dictate how he was going to get it. It wasn't until he said, "Spread 'em goddammit," that she realized she should do as she was told.

For the rest of her stay in his office that evening she did just that. Vic told her exactly where she should touch herself, how she should touch herself and how long she should touch herself. She begged him to let her cum but it wasn't until she agreed to become his compliant little slut did her give her permission to finish. She later told him hearing those three words is what turned her whole body into a quivering mess of pure ecstasy. Vic stroked himself to his own strong orgasm, his cock erupting, spewing thick ropes of cum onto the office floor as he watched Erica squirm and thrust on his desk.

Amelia was looking for a number to come out of his mouth and not what followed.

"I can see you really don't get this do you, sweetheart? So what you're doing is how you think I'd fuck you? Just have you spread your legs and stick my cock inside your pussy? Well that might be how Anthony or whatever the fuck his name is fucks you but not me."

Vic looked at her slouched down on the car seat. She was very much like Erica and the two other women in his past that he had made this type of sexual connection. Strong, confident, independent, they would never put up with being ordered around, told what to do in their personal and professional lives. Yet when Vic assumed his other persona, commanding, dominating, unrelenting, one so diverse from the Vic they thought they knew, they abandoned that sense of self and became willing subjects to his needs and desires. They quickly learned he was a kind tyrant, he always placed their happiness, their satisfaction above his. There was never any real physical pain, no humiliation, just the knowledge that their submission to his will would result in pleasure.

"So since you haven't a fucking clue how I would fuck you let me begin to teach you. It's simple, you're an intelligent young woman so this will be easy for you. All you gotta do is follow my instructions. Oh one last thing before we begin lesson number one. No more fucking questions. If anything gets asked, it will be me doing the asking."

Vic took a step closer to her seat. He made sure she got a good look at him rubbing his cock, seeing how big and hard it was under his pants, how what was unfolding right in front of her was turning him on. The expanding dark stain on her panties told him all he needed to know about her current state.

"Now that you understand there'll be no more questions, let's begin. Take off that pretty pink blouse and that sexy bra you have on and show me those tits you've tried so hard to hide."

. . .

Vic could see she was nervous or perhaps it wasn’t nerves but a sense that she had lost control over the situation. She certainly didn’t expect to end up like this, in an empty parking garage, her blouse undone and seemingly no longer able to control her fate.

“Wouldn’t you rather go back to your place, Vic?”

One more try to regain the advantage. Vic glared at her, he wanted his eyes to reinforce his words.

“Amelia, Amelia. What don’t you understand? You were so close. It really isn’t all that hard. Now, i’ll say it all one more time for you. No more questions, and take that blouse and bra off.”

. . .