Radical Empathy Part 2
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Radical Empathy - Part 1 free porn video
Radical Empathy
By Akira Marx
Part 1:
Send them to The Hague. Find whatever part of the Geneva Conventions this
violates, and if it's not in there we need to add it. I'm against capital
punishment but bring back the electric chair for the knob who scheduled
this conference call for a Friday afternoon, which, by the way, had
managed to drag into its fourth hour.
Fine, OK, maybe that's a tad severe. But if I wasn't still working from
home then I definitely would've been writing a letter to my
congressmembers instead of pretending to pay attention to charts showing
a bunch of squiggly lines going in haphazard directions.
I tried and failed to stifle a yawn for about the fifteenth time in the
past half hour, just another reason to be glad that I won the fight to
keep cameras off for these things so nobody else could see my boredom.
And sure, it was also nice that I could stay in my pajamas all day.
Staring at this laptop was killing me, my shoulders were stiff and I had
this tight feeling across my back. I gave a tug on my t-shirt, then a
little 'Yoga with Adriene' kinda roll of my neck and shoulders, but it
didn't do any good.
I figured, hey, maybe a full stretch would help, stood up and reached as
high as I could, forgetting the ceiling fan was on and came a couple
inches short of sticking my hand right into the spinning blades. For once
I was glad I'm not the tallest guy around.
Yeah, so back to trying to get the blood flowing when I noticed that my
calves were aching and my toes felt pinched, which would be funny since
my feet were bare, but now I at least knew what's going on; Gwen's home.
The headphones must've blocked out the sound of her car pulling in, and I
knew I was right when I felt the whole house rattle from the garage door
closing. I'd say she was lucky, done with work for the weekend, but then
again I'm the one who doesn't have to get up early to do their makeup, or
commute, or just deal with the whole office thing.
The smell of a fresh pizza wafted up the stairs and that was the last
straw. I hit the button to unmute myself and addressed the virtual crowd,
"Fellas, this is Matt. It's after six on Friday and my lovely wife just
got home with dinner. What say we wrap this up and get back to it next
week?" The grumbling of ascent seemed to rotate around the assemblage of
tiny boxes on the screen. They must've all been waiting for somebody to
finally pull the plug on this. Good thing I spoke up, then.
I came downstairs, seeing that Gwen had poured herself a glass of wine.
Her suit jacket was folded over the back of her chair, but she had
otherwise wasted no time before ringing in the weekend.
"You took the thought right out of my head," I said, stooping to give
Gwen a kiss and then taking a sip from her glass. I opened the pizza box.
"Pineapple?"
"Hey, Hon." She took her wine back from me. "I had a craving for
Hawaiian."
"Funny, I think it's just what I'm in the mood for, too," I replied with
a grin.
Gwen laughed at my bad joke, a charming, girlish giggle. We chatted about
our days, the usual nightly small talk you'd expect after more than a
decade together, while we each had another slice and another drink; glass
of wine for her and a beer for me. And sure, this might seem from the
outside like any other boring couple, but looking across the table at
Gwen, I was as taken with her now as when we first met.
Back before she was an accomplished Senior Associate climbing the ladder
with record speed at one of those giant law firms downtown. You know the
kind, the ones that spend as much time bribing senators on behalf of the
pharma companies as they do making sure that the bank who foreclosed on
thousands of people because of a clerical error doesn't have to forfeit
more than a day's pay for their CEO in damages.
But I'm getting sidetracked, and it's not like I'm saying this out of
turn. Gwen had shared her frustrations about the nature of her job with
me plenty of times, but it's the bargain every young lawyer has to make.
If you're planning on opening your own practice and focusing on the not
quite lucrative field of environmental law, you better have made the
right connections and banked a few solid paychecks before you chase those
dreams.
I mean, one of us should. I already washed out of the med school track
back when we were undergrads, and was lucky to settle into computer
science. Then again, that worked out for me too, already working remotely
for a few years and not having to worry about job security when the
pandemic hit. Taking contract work when I wanted, making my own
hours...well, today notwithstanding.
Which brings us back to dinner. I had wrapped the leftover slices of
pizza in foil when I heard Gwen coming up behind me, the click-clack of
her heels echoing on the kitchen tile. "You know, babe, I'll never
understand why you don't get changed right when you get home," I said
over my shoulder as I loaded the dishwasher. "I mean, I know that outfit
isn't comfortable."
Gwen was dressed in what was a typical ensemble for days she had to go to
court. Today it was a suit with a simple black jacket and matching pencil
skirt that came up a couple inches short of her knee. It clung tightly to
her hips and thighs in that sexy librarian way, the side slit showing a
tantalizing bit of bare leg when she moved.
She wore a royal blue silk blouse, the first couple buttons undone
allowing a hint of cleavage to be seen beneath the dangling sapphires
that studded a silver necklace which hung loosely from her neck. The top
billowed out where it was tucked into the highwaisted skirt, obscuring an
athletic yet curvy figure that she is right to be proud of. Hell, she
could probably still easily fit into the jeans she was wearing when we
first met back in college.
A stylish pair of black snakeskin pumps with their intimidating four inch
stiletto heels was still on her feet despite the ache I knew they were
causing her. Those shoes were expensive, probably cost more than half my
wardrobe on their own, but damn did her legs and ass look amazing.
Gwen seemed to pause, thinking for a second. She ran a hand through her
hair, the dark shoulder length mane fell back into its carefully tousled
style. "Eh, you get used to it," she took my hands in hers, looking
slightly down to meet my gaze, her warm brown eyes softening me up like
butter. "Plus, the added height is kinda nice," She pecked a quick kiss
on my forehead, emphasizing the couple inch advantage she had on me in
those heels.
Despite myself, I couldn't help the wry smile. Still holding hands I
guided Gwen over to the living room couch for our traditional Friday
night activity, more booze and scrolling through about five different
streaming services for at least one thing to watch.
"You say it doesn't bother you, but I don't believe that." I pulled her
feet into my lap, sliding off each shoe and placing them on the floor. I
gave her a second to wiggle her toes, her red pedicured nails flashing
like tiny rubies in the light of the TV.
She gave a little sigh while I was just glad my toes didn't feel squished
for the first time in the past couple hours. Starting on her right foot,
I pushed my thumb into the curve just beneath the ball of her big toe.
Gwen started searching the list of movies while I continued my work,
putting a little extra force into her arch when a moan broke the silence.
"Are you doing this for me or for you?" Her playful accusation didn't
help extinguish my burning face, I could only imagine how red it was. I
can't believe I couldn't keep that mewling noise from escaping.
With no other recourse, I did what any self respecting man would, I acted
offended and turned my insecurity back on the closest woman. "Yeah, well
that just means that you're enjoying it, 'little miss these shoes don't
bother me.'"
"Alright, maybe they do a little. Why don't I go upstairs and...slip into
something a little more comfortable." She tossed me the remote. "Like
some sweats."
While Gwen was getting changed, I proceeded to do my most difficult
husbandly duty and find a movie that we both would enjoy. Shrugging my
shoulders, the constriction on my chest having disappeared, I passed page
after page of inscrutable cover art, most of which were for films made
primarily to get tax breaks in Romania or Bulgaria or somewhere else dark
and rainy.
No way she'd be OK with a slasher movie even if it's what I would
pick...Definitely a no to a sci-fi epic...Hmmm, the latest superhero
movie, maybe she'd go for that. I made a mental note while I kept
scanning titles. There had to be something better than the default choice
of those boring home renovation shows she insisted we watch when there
was nothing else we could agree on.
Gwen had come back down, looking endlessly more comfortable in a
heathered grey pair of sweatpants and a loose, faded green t-shirt. Her
breasts, perky and full, pushed out the thin material, the thick nubs of
her nipples standing out like two inviting dimples. A flash of soft but
toned tummy peeked out between the shirt's hem and waistband of her
joggers.
She lay on the couch, snuggling into my arm right when I was passing a
bright, airy picture of a young couple gazing longingly into each other's
eyes.
"Oh, I love Sandra Bullock!" she practically lit up.
About to start back at the top of the list, ready to lobby Gwen for the
choices I had picked out, I instead found myself going back to that last
movie. Not a bad selection, now that I looked at it again. I did love
this movie, and Keanu was so adorable in this one...
"Hey, if you want to watch it just tell me," I said, a little miffed but
knew there was no point in fighting. "Are you feeling ok? You're really
pushing it out there today."
"Sorry, it was just, this case we were in court for today is a pain. I'm
kinda drained." She gave a performative yawn and stretch while I
definitely, completely by accident might've found my eyes wandering to
the healthy amount of cleavage revealed by her slack neckline and thrust
out chest. "Let's put on what you want," this devil added, pressing her
chest against my arm and feigning innocence.
"Really? You think you need to do that too?" I was completely defeated.
"Come on, babe. You know full well that ship sailed and this is what I
want to watch now." I wasn't annoyed. Really. You get used to it after
this many years together. And there's no point anyway, for all I cared I
wanted to watch this sappy thing as much as anything else that I had
considered that night.
I hit the button and the movie started playing. It was written all over
her that she thought she had steamrolled me into this and felt bad so I
gave my dear wife a gentle squeeze. We settled like that, her head
resting on my chest and me holding her close.
"I know the time travel thing is dumb," a cartoonish honk from a nose
being blown drowned out the music playing over the end credits, "but when
he steps out of the truck, I just- It was-" my halting review was broken
up by sniffles. Taking another tissue from the box that Gwen had gotten
up to grab halfway through the movie, I wiped the tears rolling down my
cheeks.
Gwen dabbed at her own eyes. "It's just so great they could find each
other," she finished the thought for me. "And that dog was so cute!"
It felt like my insides had been filled with fluffy cotton candy. Awash
in an unbearable wave of preciousness, all I wanted to do right then was
hold Gwen, the love of my life, and never let her go.
This wasn't so bad, even if I never would've picked that movie on my own,
wouldn't dream of crying over something so mushy, and would probably
rather be getting a little more physical than just sitting here cuddling.
But that's the thing, being with Gwen meant I didn't always have a choice
in the matter. That what she wanted was what I wanted, that her troubles
were my troubles, her joys were mine as well. She was special and this
was the price.
So that's my question, is it worth it in order to be with the most
amazing person you've ever met? When you can't be sure that your feelings
are your own? When you sometimes find yourself wondering where a
particular idea came from? Even if the edges of who you are start to
blur, would you realize before it's too late?
Arisha
- 19.11.2022
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