Giving Up Control (closed for saedo)

[lonelycollegegirl]

I stared blankly at the ceiling of this foreign apartment. I'd never been here before tonight and I didn't see myself coming back ever again. I looked over at the sleeping man laying next to me. I couldn't remember his name for the life of me. I know it was something generic like Rob or Steve.

Other than the fact that this man just gave be a mind blowing orgasm and he was pretty good looking, as usual, nothing about him intrigued me. He was just another notch on the ol' belt they say. A typical guy out searching the bars for girls to bring home; searching for an innocent victim to seduce and coerce into sleeping with them for just one night. For me however, I was on the opposite side of that fence.

Last night had been a long day of work. I'd had my bimonthly meeting Jacob Trask and once again he'd turned me down for drinks. It was a frustrating, unusual response to my invitation and it irritated the hell out of me. At first, yes, I had asked just to be polite. My boss told me to keep the client happy, even if that meant swooning them over some drinks or a meal. He'd refused the initial invitation and it bothered me. So now, every other week I meet with Mr. Trask and can't stop myself from inviting him once again. One would think I'd get sick of the rejection, but something about this man pulled me in. I knew eventually he would say yes, because no man could withstand me for long, and I'd have the power back in my court.

Though his company hired mine and he was technically 'the boss' I ran our meetings and we did things how I wanted to do them. This was how I liked my life. Being a woman in the business world was tough enough, but being a strong, semi-powerful woman was even tougher. I used that to my advantage however, and I used my position to keep my life how I wanted it - under my control.

But after our meeting, the frustration of rejection got the best of me once again. Last night after working late, I'd gone out to the bar and set my eyes on this mom. Steve or Rob or whoever he was. We'd had amazing sex (which was surprising to me) and I'd had a wonderful orgasm.. a few times. He was polite and didn't push me too far. He offered me a drink when we got to his apartment. He wanted to make small talk, ask about my life, that sort of things. Of course, I wasn't having any of that. I came here to fuck, right? And that's what we did. I fucked out my frustrations on this poor guy who would've never had a chance in hell if it wasn't for that damned Jacob Trask making me so desperately on edge.

Once my breathing calmed and Steve/Rob looked at rest, I quietly slid from under the sheets. I felt him stir next to me as I swung my feet over the side of the bed. I looked at the clock - 2:43am. Damn, Elizabeth. You're really setting yourself up for hell tomorrow. I found my skirt, next to the bed, and stepped into the black fabric with ease, reaching behind me to zip it. My bra was laid across a chair in the corner, and I put it on quickly, followed by red blouse. It was then I felt his eyes on me.

"You don't have to go," he said, turning to lay on his back and exposing his beautiful, toned body. "You can stay for round two." He threw me a sexy, shit-eating grin that urged me to accept his invitation, but I couldn't.

As I stepped into my red pumps, I gave him a forced smile. "I had fun, but I don't do sleepovers. Or round twos." My eyes searched the room, looking for my one clothing item that was missing. I found my black thong panties across the room, next to his side of the bed. He followed my gaze and saw them on the floor. He picked them up with that sexy grin.

"Looking for these? .. Come on baby, why don't you stay?" I knew that I wouldn't be able to resist him much longer. I don't know why, but it was getting harder for me to do this. Was I getting soft? Or was I just getting too old to play these damned games? I'm only 25. This is what young, successful, good looking people do... right? I was growing sick of having to convince myself this was okay to do, so I smiled right back at him as I turned to leave the apartment.

"Keep them. They'll remind you of the best sex you ever had," I called over my shoulder as I exited the apartment. I rode down the elevator, out the door, and hailed a taxi, preparing myself for the work day I was beginning in five hours.

 

[saedo]

I sat opposite the conference table listening to Elizabeth Fairchild. My company had contracted out a major component of an upcoming product to her company. My boss had tapped me to keep tabs on the process, so every couple weeks Liz would come by to give me a status report.

A large chunk of meeting were dry facts and figures, but I invariably found out these encounters to be the highlight of my week. Liz was a charming, vivacious woman that made these dull spreadsheets interesting. It was easy to see how a woman in her mid-twenties already had a job that would normally be held by someone in their thirties - she was just that good.

Of course, the red-blooded male in me couldn’t deny that part of the reason I enjoyed our bimonthly meetings was that Liz was so easy on the eyes. Liz was a stunning beauty by any definition. Whenever she smiled at me, I could feel my body temperature tick up a degree. Even clad in subdued business attire, I could sense just how luscious her figure was. I took great care not to stare, but she was a delight to behold in even the casual glances I permitted myself.

I probably would have been content to leave it at that, too. But a few months later, my assistant stopped at my desk and inquired, "Mr. Trask, do you find Ms. Fairchild attractive?"

I looked up into her eyes, "Excuse me, Julia?"

"Do you find her attractive? It's a simple question."

I sighed. Julia was like a dog with a bone when she started talking this way. Resistance only delayed the inevitable. "Yes," I said wearily, "I find her attractive. So?"

"In fact," she continued with a mischievous grin, "wouldn't I be more accurate to say you find her to be a smoking hot piece of ass?"

"Julia, that's most inappropriate, " I chided.

My assistant gave me a wide grin. "I'll take that as a yes. Frankly I don't see how you could see her rest those incredible tits on our conference table every two weeks and not be turned on. They're so big and round and-"

"Julia!"

Julia smiled like the cat who caught the canary. "Okay, okay, I'll stop. Just one question - if you're attracted to her, why is it that you ever accept Ms. Fairchild's invitation to meet for drinks? When a hot woman asks me out, I find it's usually a good thing to say yes."

I shrugged. My meetings with Liz were usually late in the week near the end of the day. As I was walking her out after the end of the meeting, she'd sometimes suggested we grab a drink local bar.

"Oh, she doesn't really want me to say 'yes' ," I said dismissively. "She's just being nice because she wants to keep her company's client happy. Being friendly and sociable is just smart customer relations, nothing more. "

Julie looked at me over her glasses. "No, that's why she asked you the first time. But she's asked you out every time since - sometimes even twice. That's not courtesy; she likes you."

I rolled my eyes. "Julia, that's nice of you to say, but let's be real. Liz - Ms. Fairchild is beautiful woman at least a decade my junior. She's intelligent, charming, and beautiful, so she could have any guy she wants. Why go after me when she could have some 6'4" ripped Adonis her own age?"

Julia smiled softly, "Jacob, first off you might not be Brad Pitt, but you're better looking than you give yourself credit for. Second, I don't think it's your looks that she likes so much. I think she likes your control."

"My control?"

"Well, when you look like that, guys tend to fall down at your feet, eager to please you. But not you. I mean, it's pretty clear you like what you see when you do look at her, but you never act like that matters to you. You are always get straight down to business. You take charge and run the meeting and you stay focused throughout. And then when she invites you out, you always politely refuse. I bet you're the only man who ever has refused that. I think it turns her on that that you keep that control."

"Seriously?"

Julia shrugged. "Some women really like a guy who has that kind of self-control. They get their pleasure from letting someone else take charge, which means trusting that person a lot. So that person has to have the discipline not to abuse the power she gives to him. So if you seem like you have that kind of self-control, she's probably got a serious crush on you."

I thought about my assistant's advice for days. Honestly I never thought I'd have a shot at a woman like Liz. Smart, funny, beautiful - she was the total package. But I'd never had luck with such women, so I'd given up even trying for them. But if Julia was right, perhaps I'd been too quick to write myself off with Liz.

When my next meeting with Liz arrived, I entered with a plan to test that theory. I conducted the meeting as usual, taking my standard precautions not to let my gaze wander and staying focused on business.

After we concluded the meeting, I walked Liz out just as I did every time. I knew from prior experience that Liz always worked in a suggestion about meeting for drinks about a dozen yards from the elevator. I could feel the moment approaching - could almost see the suggestion on her lips.

Except this time I spoke first. "Liz, you should come have a drink with me. Tonight. "

 

[lonelycollegegirl]

The next couple of weeks were followed by multiple nights of similar events that went by in a blur. Every guy was the same; following my lead, doing what I say. It got kind of boring once in a while, but it's the way I wanted it. I needed to be in control, and that's what I was doing in every aspect of my life.

Including my meeting with Jacob Trask I had just finished conducting. We'd went through the usual check points and discussed future plans and what we would discuss at our next meeting. I'd led the discussion, as per usual and everything went the same as it always had.

I did however, notice something different about Mr. Trask this week. He typically has quite the wandering eye, which he doesn't bother to hide, which I don't mind. I liked feeling his eyes on me, wandering what thoughts he was having to himself about possibly undressing me and taking me in his office. I relished in the thought of his desire for me because I knew he was more powerful business-wise. But his eyes on me, the feeling of him wanting me .. that gave me power that I reveled in.

That's why it was irritating me more and more that he refused my offer. I'd never let him see it though. To him, my offers for drinks were probably just a polite formality I take with everyone we do business with. I didn't really want him to say yes and he didn't want to make me sit at a bar somewhere when I didn't really want to be there. He's correct in his thinking the first time I asked him, but every time after that had been my selfish need to hear the man say yes.

After the meeting, Mr. Trask was walking me out as he usually did. I was about to offer drinks again, right before we reached the elevator. As soon as I opened my mouth to speak, I was suddenly at a loss for words.

"Liz, you should come have a drink with me. Tonight. "

What caught me most off guard was the tone of his voice. He didn't ask me to get a drink. It wasn't a question at all, whether, a statement. Was he suddenly trying to play games here? Get me off balance? I didn't know what Mr. Trask's motives were, but I was definitely intrigued to find out.

As I pushed the call button for the elevator, I accepted his somewhat invitation. "Mr. Trask, I see you've finally realized I was going to persist with my invitations until you accepted. I'd love to have a drink with you."

I smiled at him as we stepped into the elevator. I was surprised at how collected my voice had sounded, because my heart was racing for no apparent reason.

 

[saedo]

Mr. Trask, I see you've finally realized I was going to persist with my invitations until you accepted. I'd love to have a drink with you."

I raised my right eyebrow. "Then you see incorrectly," I countered. "I decided to have a drink tonight. I then suggested you join me. I am not here at your invitation - you are here at mine."

I had my driver take us to The Marten. I paid little heed to Elizabeth's attempts at conversation. My attention was inward, mulling over Julia's supposition.

Was my assistant wrong? If Elizabeth purportedly wanted to yield to someone, she was cloaking it well. Her behavior was flirtatious, but beneath that I sensed an attempt to manipulate me by appealing to my libido. I got the distinct impression she was seeking to gain control rather than cede it.

I refused to be drawn in, however. I kept my attention above the neck rather than give in to her sexual ploys.

"Good evening, Mr. Trask." I didn't recognize the steward on duty, but The Marten had an excellent staff. Recognition of every member was but one of their perks. "Shall I have your usual drink brought to you?"

"Make it two," I responded. "Ms. Fairchild will be joining me as my guest."

The steward nodded and held open the door to the main room. I stepped through, again relishing the quiet opulence. By day it was open and airy, but at night much of the hall was shrouded in twilight, broken up by pools of white light marking the seating areas. While the handful of members present in small clusters around the room were discussing nothing more consequential than today's Dow Jones or the opening minutes of tonight's playoff game, the hushed, serious atmosphere always made me think this would be an excellent venue for conducting espionage.

I headed for one of my favorite chairs near the northwest corner. The soft leather creaked faintly as I settled down into cushions. I gestured for Elizabeth to do likewise in the chair opposite mine.

Almost immediately after we were both seated, a waiter materialized with a tray. He set down a pair of crystal tumblers, each with two fingers of Greenore, on the small table beside us. He then disappeared into the gloom without a word.

I took my glass and sniffed at the dark brown liquid before tipping back for a swallow. The whisky was smooth as silk and with only a slight bite. I did not hew to the school that a good whisky had to leave a smoking trail down your throat.

I turned to Elizabeth. "Tell me about yourself."

I listened to her initial response for several seconds before waving her to silence. "I'm not interested in highlights from your resume. Tell me about you."