Big Red In Her Lonely Fortress free porn video

The First Incident

I wondered when I’d hear from Lynn Fortier again because she had told me to expect her. I didn’t know how long that would be; she had only said it would be “occasionally.” It turned out to be only a week. She was the executive director of my division, but I didn’t report directly to her. Except for the previous week, I had rarely spoken to her. She didn’t go in for a lot of socializing with her employees

Around three o’clock in the afternoon, she suddenly appeared by my desk. She didn’t greet me; all she said was, “Are you going to be working late here again tonight?”

I was feeling a bit more feisty than I had the previous week and I answered honestly, “You know with all these books I’m working on now I’ll definitely be here this evening.”

“Good, because as I said last time, I’d like to see you again.” Then she continued, “I think you’ll like this; you’re going to get more for yourself this time. And so will I. Of course, there will be some pain involved on your part, but as we discovered before, you like that kind of thing.”

This was one of the longest explanations she had ever given me about anything, plus she was smiling at me, also unusual. I merely nodded. She went on, “So knock on my office door at, say, 8:30 PM. Believe me, I’ll make it worth your time.”

I didn’t ask for any further details, and she just turned and left. I didn’t know how much choice I had in this matter, but I wasn’t going to complain about it at that point. I only knew what she was talking about in general terms, not the specifics. This was in April 1989 at a small legal publishing company in New Jersey. Actually, the unit only had about eighty people, but it was part of a much larger corporate entity that went up four corporate levels to the aptly named Apex Communications.

Somehow I worked for all of these divisions, but I identified most with the smallest one, my own workplace. Todd-Hackett Legal Works published books for attorneys, and it was miles away from the other, higher divisions. The aptly-named Apex itself was headquartered at a skyscraper it had built for itself in New York. Meanwhile, our far-flung little outpost occupied a portion of a two-story concrete pillbox in Clifton, New Jersey.

I had been at Todd-Hackett for about eight months by that time, and I was soon indulging in some very odd behavior. I hated the hours of unpaid overtime I had to put in as an “exempt” employee. Also, my marriage to my wife of fourteen years, Janey, was starting to go south. All of those hours at work weren’t helping my marital situation.

Anyway, I took out my frustrations by masturbating in different parts of the building at odd hours if no one else was around. I had plenty of opportunities for that, and I got increasingly careless about when and where I whacked off.

One night I decided to get clever and pleasure myself while kneeling on the floor of Lynn’s corner office. I turned off the lights but I left the door open. Then I took some hand lotion and got into a hot jerk-off session imagining Audrey, the trim blonde wife who sat in the cubicle next to mine.

I don’t know if it’s God or some other entity who controls what happens in this world. But that night, Lynn did walk in unexpectedly, turned on the lights, and I got caught in mid-stroke. It seemed to be the first time she had ever returned after leaving for the evening.

I thought my only hope then was that she would let me resign rather than going through official human resources channels to get me fired. But it turned out that neither of those was going to happen. Instead, she used the incident as an excuse to indulge her own perverse proclivities.

It was pretty straightforward, I guess. First, she took me over her knees, fondled my backside, and then beat my bare ass with a thick ruler. She was quite forceful with it, and she bruised my backside, but we both noticed the huge erection I got during the session. I had never been spanked before, and that development surprised me. Maybe it surprised her too.

Then I had to stand by the window and finish my interrupted bout of jerking-off while Lynn watched. She wanted me to describe what I was imagining doing to Audrey while this fantasy was going on. I didn’t think I could perform under that kind of pressure, but actually, I did fine. Lynn even noted the thickness and distance of the semen stream I shot off onto her floor. She said, “Well, that was certainly impressive.”

Then I was dismissed. “I may have you back here for another session . . . you can go now.”

When I was in my car I had a sore ass and a well-stroked penis – self-stroked of course. I felt I had been very lucky in how it had all turned out, and I still had my job. I guessed that Lynn would eventually forget about the incident and I would never hear about our offbeat encounter again.

Discipline

Well, I was wrong about that. At 8:30 I knocked on her door and I heard her say, “It’s not locked; please come on in.”

I was surprised to find her standing in front of her desk, leaning on it. There was also a chair there, facing her, and I figured I was supposed to sit in it.

I was right about that. She said, “Close the door and have a seat, make yourself comfortable. Would you like a glass of wine?” She wasn’t exactly friendly, but she seemed to have lost some of the frostiness she had shown last week when she had caught me whacking my own dick while over in the corner.

There was a bottle on the desk and two water tumblers, not wine glasses, next to it. “All right, I’ll have some.” After pouring, she just stayed leaning there for a bit without saying anything.

I had the insight that she wanted me to look her over, make an assessment of her. The previous week had been more than a bit surprising, and in the months before that most of my sexual fantasies had gone to other, younger women like the leggy blonde Audrey.

In 1989 I was thirty-four. I didn’t know Lynn’s exact age, but I found out later that she forty-one. She had been nick-named, behind her back, as “Big Red” by the staff. Part of that was because of her bright red hair, which on that night she had unpinned so that it fell to her shoulders. For a long time, I had suspected that it wasn’t her natural hair color.

She was also big in a couple of other ways. One was the authority she exerted in our office. But she was also not a petite lady. She was about five-foot-nine, and she had a voluptuous body. I guessed that she had probably put on a few pounds over the years, but she still looked pretty good.

There was no apparent shyness in the way she was looking back at me, so I took a bit more time to check out her appearance. As usual, her clothes and makeup were impeccable. She had a medium brown suit with a tight skirt, a white blouse, and – this was a nice touch – purple high heels.

She was a bit vain about wearing her glasses, but on that evening she had them on. They had thick, dark frames. Was that so she could see me better? All in all, I hadn’t noticed it before, but I thought, she’s an absolutely classic MILF.

We sipped from our wine glasses. I felt more assertive this time and I blurted out, “Lynn, take your glasses off for a moment.” She looked confused initially, but then she followed my request. I wanted to get a better look at her face.

Usually, women look more vulnerable without their glasses, but that wasn’t true for Lynn. She had intense dark eyes, and there was something about her expression – a kind of hardness, I’d call it, even when she was smiling. I knew little about her personal life beyond that she was divorced and had two kids in Montclair High School.

Yet I could tell she must have been stunningly beautiful when she was younger, and she still was pretty good right now. I got some hints from her. She asked me, “Does your wife know you’re working late tonight?”

“She’s not going to be surprised at whatever hour I come back.”

“Tell me, how is your marriage going?”

Why was that any of her fucking business? Yet, for some reason I answered her. “To tell you the truth, it’s been a bit wobbly recently.”

She smiled at me, “I know what that’s like. Once it starts to go in that way, the end will come sooner or later.” Probably she was still bitter about her own divorce. I also pondered why she was interested in the likes of me at all. The only advantage I had was that I was about seven years younger than she was. But that apparently was enough. Probably she was lonely and diddling around with a younger employee added some spice to her dull life.

Then she said, “I hope you understand that whatever we do is entirely voluntary on your part.” That hadn’t seemed true last week and I still didn’t fully believe her. There was more than a hint of blackmail in all of that. She went on, “I know that you’ve been thinking about that issue.”

I pushed back, “Please don’t try to guess what I’m thinking.”

“I don’t have to guess about something. I saw the huge erection you got when I paddled you last week.”

She had a point there. I could have reported her to HR because her behavior had been totally out-of-line. That wouldn’t have been easy, because she had been working there for a long time and she had credibility by being a manager. She could make a counter-claim against me for masturbating in her office.

But she had also revealed a kinky side of me that I had suspected I had but had never seen put into practice before. I was curious about what else she’d come up with this week.

She began to tell me more. “Like before, first comes the punishment, then comes the pleasure.”

“Why punish me? I haven’t done anything wrong this week.”

Lynn patiently explained it for me, “The first reason is that I absolutely adore punishing naughty men, and you had been very naughty. I don’t think you have sufficiently paid for it yet.” I wondered if her now-departed husband had participated in any of that.

“And what is the second reason?”

“That’s obvious. Paul, that hard-on you got, it was clear that you enjoyed it too.” I suddenly thought, I bet this dame is a switch, and she’d like a good spanking on her own heinie. I didn’t want to mention it at that point, but I filed it away for future reference.

Instead, I complained about the earlier session. “The only pleasure I got last time was when I stroked myself while you watched. It was something of a letdown.”

“Well, I think you’ll like what I have for you this week. Meanwhile, first, the discipline.” She got up and went over to our own chair behind the desk. “The first thing I’m going to do is spank you by hand. Don’t get too complacent. It’s going to be a hard one; my hand can inflict quite a thrashing on you.” I found out later that thrashing was a common word in British spanking porn. “Come over to my right side and lower your trousers, but not your drawers. Place yourself over my knees.”

Why am I doing this? Because I liked it more than I’m willing to admit, even to myself? Whatever the reason, I went over to her and placed myself on her lap. Then she pulled my underpants down and, like the previous week, she started to affectionately rub my behind and the backs of my thighs. I could feel the cool air in the office and the warmth of her hand.

After a little of that, she said, “Raise yourself a bit, I want to see what is going on under there.” She examined me, and said, “Just as I expected, you have a stiff boner.”

I was feeling bolder this week, and I answered honestly, “Well, that’s what usually happens when a lady rubs a man’s bare backside.”

“Oh, getting sassy, are you? Well, let’s see how well that erection holds up under a good, sound spanking.”

Lynn didn’t waste any time, and she began to beat me with her right hand. It didn’t hurt as much as the ruler had, but I noticed the impact. I glanced back and I saw she was lifting her arm up and out quite a way before bringing it down on me. I couldn’t control myself, and I grunted with each blow. It wasn’t as bad as the ruler had been, but I definitely noticed it.

She commented on her technique. “This is the way to correct a misbehaving male. Not too fast, but make each one count. I am just so fond of doing this.  ”

I felt I had the right to respond, “Lynn, you certainly have a hard hand.”

“As you may have noticed, I’m not a delicate little slip of a woman.”

She probably spent a few minutes on that spanking, and I was groaning near the end of it. When she stopped, she rubbed me again. “I see I did a good job on you. You’re nice and warm and red now. And you still have that pesky boner. Bravo for you.”

I felt like saying, fuck you, but I knew that would be very unwise. In any case, not only was her hand hard, so was my cock. I guess I’m a masochistic little fucker after all.

She said, “Do you know that there are women who can have an orgasm just from a spanking? Although it does help if you catch them right on the back of their pussies.”

Gee, Lynn, do you know this from personal experience? Instead I asked, “Are there any men like that?”

“I don’t know about that. Anyway, it’s corner time right now. Go over there and put your hands on your head.”

You’ve got to be kidding me, right? But I did get up and do as I was told. I knew enough to face away from her so she could see my battered ass. It felt very hot and seemed to be vibrating. After a little more time, I looked back at her, and I got a bit snarky. “Examining your own handiwork, I presume?” Part of her results was that my cock was pointing out from under my shirttails.

She looked very pleased with herself. “As I said, that was good, sound spanking.” She shook her right hand. “Unfortunately I did get a numb hand from doing it.” Tough shit, lady, that comes with the territory. “I’ve noticed how aroused you still are. I’m not surprised, considering how perverse most men are.”

She was much more voluble than during the previous week. Also, her anger – had that been faked? – wasn’t visible this time. She seemed almost light-hearted, giggly even, as she said, “I’m going to make one more attempt to get your dick to go down. I’m going to try to do that with an implement, as you will see in a moment.”

I hadn’t noticed it before, but she had a stick leaning against the far side of her desk. It was a simple thing, She swished it through the air. I was still standing there with my hands on my head. “So you’re going to cane me with that?”

“It’s lighter than a true English – actually European - school whipping cane. Those take some skill to use properly, which I don’t have.”

“It still looks like it’s going to hurt.”

“Oh, it will, but I will use it so that – well, so that I won’t actually injure you.”

That didn’t sound particularly reassuring. How did she define injured? “Lynn, we really need a safe word for this.”

“Oh, you and your safe words. Okay, go ahead, pick something.”

I used the first thing that came to mind. “It will be ‘tuna fish.’” She laughed at that. So this aging tart did have a sense of humor after all.

“All right, bend over the desk and get your ass up – nice and high. Don’t worry too much; I know what I’m doing.”

That wasn’t very reassuring either. I could have just walked out at that point. I didn’t think she’d actually fire me, not with all that had gone on already. Was it really my own choice or was she exerting a kind of control over me? Was it a combination of the two reasons? Whatever, I did as she requested.

She stood to my left side, then she tapped me a couple of times with her stick. “If I were you, I’d be cautious about using that safe word, or phrase I’d call it.”

I reminded her, “It’s tuna fish, remember?” And then I asked, “How many of these am I getting?”

“I’m not sure yet. What do the English call it, twelve of the best? Maybe a few more than that.” With that, she raised her stick and gave me a sharp rap with it across my buttocks. It did hurt, as I had been told it would, and I yelled out something like “ouch” or “ow.” Reflexively, I stood up straight and grabbed my own ass.

Lynn calmly said, “Come on Paul, take it like a man. Stay in position and keep your hands your of the way. There are boys much younger than you who have taken a real cane across their bare backsides.”

With her second stroke, I did a bit better, but not by much. She made a “tsk, tsk” sound and said, “I’m going to push down on your back and use my right one for the stick. Hold on to the far side of the desk with your hands.” Her left hand exerted a considerable amount of pressure on my back.

Maybe it was manly pride, but I wasn’t going to let this mean old bitch get the better of me. I took what she dished out, and I tried not to move so much. I couldn’t control my voice, however, and I yelped with each stroke.

Despite her reassurances, Lynn was pretty forceful in the way she swung her implement. I worried that she would catch me in the balls with her nasty little stick, but her aim was very good. At one point she said, “You’re getting too much on your right side. I’m going to change sides and use my left hand for this.”

She wasn’t a lefty, but she did a fair job with that arm. I don’t remember the exact number of blows, but it was at least twenty. That wasn’t excessive compared to what some people would get at sessions I heard about later.

I remember thinking, Lynn, baby, I’m really going to put a dent in your ample ass when I get a crack at you.

Then she simply stopped and said, “That’s it. You can comfort yourself now.” No further encouragement was needed. I stood up and grabbed my ass as if it was going to fall off, which was how it felt. I couldn’t help but bounce around on my feet.

When I was sort of in control of myself, she said, “Bend over again. I want to see how I’ve done.”

Her touch on my behind was tender, affectionate even. Of course, I was quite sore where the marks were, and she noted, “I see you’re well striped, as they say in England.

She had mentioned England before; I wondered if she had ever there. She down sat in her chair and said, “Keep your pants lowered, but turn around and face me.”

Pleasure

It wasn’t that easy to stand there with my genitals exposed, right next to this woman I barely knew. She coolly looked me over and said, “I see my bit of discipline has made that erection of yours disappear quite dramatically.” I couldn’t think of a witty retort to that. I went back to rubbing my beaten ass. She continued to hold her spanking stick, and she was rubbing it with one of her hands

“Tell me, that time I caught you masturbating in here, was that the only time you’ve ever done that anywhere in the company’s offices?”

“That is really none of your business.”

“But it is. I am still your boss and I should know what my employees are doing.”

She had to pull that on me. “All right, I used to use that unrented space at the other end of the building, but the later I worked here, the more I came into our company’s space.”

“Thanking of Audrey, I assume.”

“Yes, among others, but I told you that already.”

“Well, you don’t have to imagine her so much anymore, because you and I are now going to have some fun together.” I could guess that this whole affair was going to go on for a while beyond tonight, and I suddenly had a trapped feeling. It would probably take me a while to find another job, but I might find a place with more reasonable schedules than this one.

I put it as, “All right, Lynn, what have you got for me?”

“I noticed that you’ve dropped that ‘ma’am’ bit you were using last time. Anyway, what I propose is that tonight we pleasure each other orally.”

I must have had a confused expression, because she said, “It’s really quite simple. First, you’ll go down on me.”

I decided to get crude. “Eat out your pussy, in other words.”

My phrasing didn’t seem to bother her. “Yes, that is exactly it. And then I’ll go down on you.”

I was blunt again, “You’ll give me a blowjob, you mean.”

She seemed to be enjoying this conversation, “You catch on very quickly.”

It was obvious that she was being tongue-in-cheek. Yet I thought, the romance of it all. She hadn’t even kissed me once so far. I did register a complaint, “This is so spontaneous. Why do you get to choose everything we do?”

“Because I’m the boss, that’s why. In fact, I’m the boss of all the bosses around here. The capo di tutti capi, you could call me.”

That was a pretty good quip. Of course, she must have known that it was also an exaggeration. On the Apex Corporation personnel chart, she was pretty far down the list.

I had my own joke, “So I guess I should call you ‘Godmother.’”

Lynn laughed at that. Who could have guessed that this dame had a sense of humor? I hadn’t seen it in the previous eight months. Then she said, “It’s time to get ready. I have to remove, ah, certain garments first – but not all of them.”

With my aching ass, I was wondering if I could perform for her. Then I saw her partially disrobe, and I knew I wouldn’t have any problems. She stood up, and the first item to go was her suit jacket; she left it on the desk. Her white blouse was short-sleeved, and I noticed that I could see through it. She had an ample white bra underneath it.

“Nice blouse,” I said.

“I certainly like it.” Then she removed a purple belt that held up her skirt. I assumed the color was supposed to come close to matching her shoes. The belt landed on the floor and the brown skirt went on top of the jacket.

Her panties surprised me. They were of a very ample cut and would have been granny panties except for one attribute. They were very sheer, and closer to transparent than her blouse. I could clearly see her body right through her underpants. She also had a white garter and straps holding up her stockings.

I commented, “Nice retro look you have there.”

“It’s still easy to get this stuff. I bet more women are wearing these things than you might imagine.” She kneeled on her chair and waved her big behind at me. I guessed that she had added some “junk in her trunk” over the years, but I was fine with big asses. Her panties were quite tight and I clearly saw her ass crack.

She still had her glasses on as she looked back at me and smiled. “I assume you like all this because your cock has gone back up quite admirably.”

Usually, I tried to avoid overpraising women because it sometimes went to their heads. But this was an unusual circumstance. “Yeah, Lynn, you look great.”

“So the pain in your ass is being replaced by pleasure in your penis.” Well, I wouldn’t say the pain was gone, but it certainly seemed to be less important.

She turned and sat back in her chair; then she reached down to lock the wheels, Her memorable panties came off and she dropped them on the floor. Her legs were spread wide as she settled back in her seat. As I had suspected, her pubic hair was not bright red, but a reddish-brown at best. What was that expression, the carpet doesn’t match the drapes?

Lynn went into her bossy mode. “Now kneel down and get to it. I think you know how it’s done. I expect to get an orgasm out of this.”

I thought of some dumb thing like, your money cheerfully refunded if not completely satisfied, but of course I didn’t say that. In fact, I did know how to do cunnilingus, and I knelt in front of her crotch and got to work. The first thing I did was open Lynn’s pussy lips and lick her from top to bottom and back and forth. She must have liked it because she started moaning almost immediately. “I can tell that you know how to do this.” She grasped my hair and was soon moving my head in the direction she wanted it to go.

I did the usual techniques; I put my tongue inside her cunt and then brought it up to click her clitoris. When I briefly looked up, I was amused to see her purple shoes waving around in the air.

It was obvious when she was approaching her orgasm. She pulled my head in closer and pushed her hips forward to meet my mouth. She was quite talkative during it all. “Oh my God, I’m going to come, I’m going to come right now!” Then it was something like, “Oh, oh, oh!” She tried to rest her calves on my shoulders but they slid back and forth on my shirt.

When she was done, she fell back into her chair. She pushed her glasses to the top of her head. I couldn’t quite interpret her expression. Was it something like awe, or was I just fooling myself? As for myself, I was feeling both pleased and more than a bit stunned.

Her voice came back, “You know that some men don’t like doing that, eating a lady's pussy.”

I had heard that before, “Well, why not?”

“They claim they don’t like the taste of cunt. But they want the lady to swallow all of the cum they put out.” There was a pause, “My ex-husband was like that.”

That was all I needed to know about that marriage. “Well, Lynn, I think your cunt tastes great.” She smiled at me. Why was I flattering this dame? I liked the taste of all women’s cunts, as long as they took regular baths.

After a bit more time to pull herself together, she said. “Okay, honey, it’s now you’re your turn.”

Rather dumbly I asked, “What do you want me to do?

“Just stand there, lean against the desk if you wish. It’s my turn to kneel now.”

I liked her red fingernails when she grasped my cock, and I especially liked the red lipstick she was wearing.

“You’re red all over, aren’t you?”

“They call me Big Red around here, don’t they?” She must have overheard that somewhere, but she didn’t dwell on it. “Now you just let Ms. Fortier work her oral magic on you.”

Ms. Fortier knew what she was doing. I wondered if she had practiced on her husband or some other lucky guy. The first thing she did was gently suck of the glans of my cock. Then she ran her tongue and then her lips along the length of my shaft. Some of her lipstick remained on my dipstick.

Now I was the one stroking her hair and praising her techniques. I wasn’t clever patter, but it didn’t have to be. “Oh Lynn, the way you work on my cock is just delightful. Please, please do more of it.”

Eventually, she was taking more of me into her mouth. But she kept one hand on my cock to prevent it from going all the way in. That was clever; she wasn’t going to choke on it that way. Her other hand held my hips where they hadn’t been marked by her spankings.

I think she knew I was approaching my climax by the way I was moving rather than by the way I sounded. I put more effort into thrusting into her mouth rather than having her suck on me. In the last moments, I got up on my toes and gyrated my battered backside. I imagined she could feel the pressure building in me as I prepared to ejaculate. I wondered if she was going to swallow it all. She tried, but an amount came back out and dropped to the floor between her knees. Being a gentleman, perhaps, I pulled my handkerchief out so she could blot up the excess.

When I pulled out to let her do that, I backed up against her desk. Then she looked up at me and appeared to be very pleased. “My, I really like those nice big loads you shoot.”

A little of my cum had gotten on her stockings and more had landed on the floor. I had the urge to say that I was sorry and then I remembered, never apologize for a blowjob no matter how big a mess you have made. Unless it gets on the Guttenberg Bible or something, it just doesn’t matter.

When I had caught my breath, I felt I did had to say something. It came out as, “Did you masturbate here last week after I left?” Hardly my best line, but she didn’t mind.

“Why, of course I did.”

“I was willing to help you out with that.”

“That was very thoughtful of you, but I learned my lesson this week, didn’t I?”

The Date

The last section is about the dinner date they have that evening. There is no sex in this, although it is briefly discussed.  I thought of making this a separate story, but I think it is far too short for that.

*******

Now I was standing there bottomless, and she was kneeling there bottomless. Perhaps neither one of us had the slightest idea of what to do next. To buy myself some time, I said, “I’m not used to talking to ladies when my pants are down.”

Lynn looked down at herself and replied, “Yes, maybe I should get dressed now too.” During the minute or so that took, I didn’t generate any new ideas. I did understand that last week I had been knee-deep in this affair, and now it was more like it was up to my waist.

With Lynn dressed now looked like she did when I first came into her office, although she had that somewhat discombobulated look that women sometimes get after a good bout of sex. Well, I guess men get it too. She then seemed to be to make up a proposal on the spot; maybe she was just faster on her feet than I was. She brightly said, “Paul, I’d really like to have a bit of dinner and drinks with you.”

That was suddenly a bigger arrangement than I was prepared for. I was flabbergasted, and all I could think of was, “Where are we going to do that?”

“You know that place, the Alexus Steakhouse?” Our company had used it for some functions. “It’s right on the other side of Route 46.” Before I could reply, she said, “You could call your wife and tell her you will be here another hour. She’ll buy that, I assume?”

She probably would buy it, but that wasn’t the point. I was getting into a whole new level of further lying to Janey. I said, “Lynn, we hardly know each other.”

She seemed coy and a bit giggly, “I’d say we know each other a whole lot better by now, wouldn’t you?”

Unlike what Bill Clinton would claim ten years later, I felt I did have sex with this Lynn Fortier person. And I was feeling stuck in the situation. She continued, “What’s the matter, wouldn’t you like to spend a little time with me?”

No, I wasn’t that keen on the idea. “We just did spend some time together.”

“I meant talking to each other.” My wine glass was still on the desk, and I took another drink from it.

Damn it, Lynn, if you feel lonely go to a bar or club and pick up some guy. Unlike men, women could usually find someone desperate enough to bang them. And Lynn, despite her age, still had some good physical attributes in her favor.

Then she did something that clinched the deal. She put out both of her hands and took one of mine in those. It was the first time she had ever made some kind of normal human gesture of fondness for me. “Do you feel intimidated by me?” Her expression had a look of expectation; I wondered if it was partially faked.

Indeed I did feel intimated by her; my job, my livelihood depended on her. She could probably override anything my direct supervisor, Denise, wanted. (Denise had made the initial decision to hire me, and she was a great boss.) I had thought the previous week when I got caught beating-off had been a fluke. But this time Lynn had come looking for me, apparently with a well-thought-out plan in mind.

Maybe if I had been a braver, stronger person I would have said no to going out. But I said yes. It was just a dinner, it wasn’t that big a deal. But no, it was a big deal, and getting bigger all of the time.

I decided as the man it was my job to drive us over there, so we took the 1987 Plymouth Horizon that Janey and I had bought as our second car. Once there, I ordered another glass of wine. Lynn was quite sociable and articulate during our hour at that place. We mostly talked shop, which gave me a chance to vent about our working conditions. “Can’t you doing anything to get these authors to get their stuff in on time?”

“Paul, you have to realize that these guys are partners at big law firms. Writing books is a sideline for them, something they do for the prestige of having their names on the cover. And they’re used to working eighty hours per week.” (Most of our publications were in loose-leaf binders for easy updating.)

“Yeah, but I’m not. And I don’t get paid for it. Also, they have associate flunkies who can step in if things got really tight. Once I was here until three o’clock in the morning taking corrections from one of those guys over the phone, Couldn’t somebody at Brunswick-Hall do anything about it?” That was the next level up from us on the corporate ladder, and they had some influence over us.

“They are not going to do anything about that; we’re on our own.”

Near the end, she brought up a personal question with me. “Is there something you want to tell me about your marriage?”

“You really want to hear about that?” She hadn’t told me much about why she had divorced her husband.

“Yes, you can confide in me if you wish.”

This Lynn lady could be a real pain at times, and I got that she could manipulate me quite well. Then I thought about the notable underthings she had on under her skirt, and perhaps that inspired me to tell her one fact. “I think Janey is getting a bit out of control recently. Like she could use a good spanking from me at times when she does something like bounce a check."

Lynn found that amusing, “Then why don’t you try it sometime?”

“Because she hates it. I once gave her two smacks and she jumped right up. Now I could never get her over my lap again.”

On the way back I drove her to her car inside the garage. (As a mere peon I had to park in the lot outside.) When we arrived there, she did something else unexpected. She leaned over, put her arms around me, and kissed me warmly. To my surprise, I returned her kiss. Then she pulled back for a moment, and she kissed me again.

I’m smooching with the executive director; what could possibly go wrong? A lot of things, actually. I had to ask her before she got out, “Lynn, what do we do when we see each other tomorrow? I mean, where is this thing going?” It’s a mere fling, right?

She answered, “I don’t know, I’m making this up as I go along.”

“I guess I am too.”

“I will tell you when I want you; I’ll come and get you like I did this afternoon.”

“Why do you get to choose everything that happens and when it happens?”

“We’ve already been over this; because I’m the boss, that’s why.” She sounded half serious and half tongue-in-cheek. Then she got out and blew me an air kiss before going to her own car.

I didn’t wait for her to get there. I drove out of the garage, through the lot, and out onto Route 46 westbound.

God, this lady is pretty eccentric. You thought you had problems last week? They were nothing compared to what’s happening now.

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