Something Different Ch. 01

PART 1: Passion

***

My favorite room in our apartment, the bedroom. I had to admit, it looked beautiful. I'd pulled out all the stops this night. I left work early, so as to have plenty of time to set up my surprise. I had strung up Christmas lights all around the ceiling and scattered two dozen candles all about the room. I'd carefully arranged the bed, propping up her stuffed animals and the heart-shaped pillow I'd bought her last Valentine's day. The pizza arrived just five minutes before she was due to come home, so it would be hot and fresh when she arrived. I'd picked up the latest Meg Ryan romantic comedy on the way home as well. She loves Meg Ryan. I changed into fresh clothes, and dabbed on some cologne.

I heard the key in the door, and took my place just inside the entry-way. She walked in, looking as haggard as ever. She was still so beautiful, but it must have been a rough day at work today.

"Hi, Kelly. Welcome home." I gave her my warmest smile, and brought out the dozen long-stem roses I'd also grabbed on the way home. She smiled sweetly, and gave me a kiss. "Thank you."

We watched the movie and ate the pizza on the couch. I reached out to hold her hand, but she didn't squeeze back. It seemed like she was engrossed in the movie. That was okay. I could live with it. As long as she was happy.

After dinner we cleaned up, and I told her to wait in the living room. She protested for a moment, but demurred in the end. I turned on the Christmas lights and lit the candles, giving the bedroom a wonderfully warm glow. Do you know how long it takes to light two dozen candles? When I finally brought her in, she sighed happily looking around at how I'd transformed the room. We got ready for bed, and I crawled in next to her. She lay back contentedly, and then turned over to give me a kiss. One kiss led to a few more, and soon we were frenching madly. My hands were snaking under her pajama top and caressing her bare back, and I knew my raging erection was pressing painfully against her leg. My hands dipped to her ass, squeezing and caressing.

I ripped my shirt off and then whipped off hers. She was panting slightly, her eyes glazed over. Next came the snap of her bra, and I was burying my face in her upright B-cups, feeling her nipples hardening in the cool air. I shucked my shorts and she let me tug her shorts off, taking the panties with them. We continued to kiss and fondle, and my erection was screaming at me to get inside of her. She was kissing me back with a fervor right up until I settled my hips over hers.

Then at the last moment she turned her hips to the side, my cock bouncing painfully off her hip. She tugged the blankets over to cover her naked body, then settled herself back into the pillows. "I'm sorry, honey." She was apologetic. "I'm just not in the mood."

She hadn't been in the mood for two months now. Two months without even a handjob. Sigh. But I loved her. I didn't set up this night just to get laid. I wanted to make her happy. And it had seemed to work, she was much more relaxed tonight than she had been in a long time.

But it would be nice to get laid. You know?

***

"She's still not in the mood, right?"

"Is it that obvious?"

I happened to arrive for work at the same time Catherine did, and I held open the front door for her. Chivalry is never a bad thing. She looked me up and down, giving me the typical girl once over as I walked through after her. "You just look a little tense. If you'd gotten laid last night you would be relaxed and have this big stupid 'I just got laid' grin on your face right about now."

I had to smile. I guess all men were pretty easy to read to that extent. "I tried my best last night. No special occasion, I wanted to make her happy. We ate pizza on the couch, like we did in college. We watched a Meg Ryan romantic comedy. I bought her roses. I set candles and Christmas lights all through our bedroom... nothing. The passion is gone."

She turned back to watch where we were going and sighed. "I wish my boyfriend would do something like that for us."

"I wish my fiancée would appreciate me doing something like that."

We walked in silence for a moment before Catherine decided to change the direction of our conversation. "So, how about that U.S. Open?"

I just smiled. I loved tennis and always told with myself to make more time to play. Kelly wasn't really into sports, and really could care less about the Open. Catherine was one of the few people I'd ever met who enjoyed it as much as I did. We boarded the elevator and talked for the next minute about the Williams sisters and how they were dominating recently. But then we hit my floor and I bid her goodbye. I whistled on my way to my desk and found that after just talking with Catherine, my mood had improved considerably.

***

Wednesday afternoon. Another day in the office. I'd just spent the last hour and a half trying to clear up a contract issue with one of my medical clinics. I was a sales rep for Biodyne, a large pharmaceutical company based in Los Angeles. I covered one group of accounts, handling all of their requests for more information, giving presentations, etc. This particular doctor had wanted a record on one of his orders from 1997. I wasn't covering this area back then, and wasn't even out of school yet back then. So I'd had the pleasure of trying to find an order he feels he was over-billed on from five years ago blaming me for a problem that occurred when I did not work for the company. Another day in the office.

I had finally finished the call not ten seconds ago when the phone rang again. My eyes glared at my headset which I'd tossed onto the desk as if it were a poisonous snake eager to sink its teeth into me. I sighed, got the headset back on, and picked up the line. "Thank you for calling Biodyne this is Mike--."

"Dinner." The voice interrupted with a dull, flat monotone.

"Hey Jimmy." My response was equal in tone.

"Mario's."

"Uh, Six."

"Bye."

I hung up. Francine popped her pretty face over my cubicle wall. "What the heck was that?"

I paused for a moment before responding, casually losing myself in Francine's gorgeous face. She had big, almond-shaped eyes that currently featured sky-blue contact lenses which made her face glow under her jet black silky hair. Her lips were full-bodied, so extremely kissable that I could feel the instinctive tugging in my jaw to reach out and press my lips to hers. Then, after a few seconds of gazing, her question bounced into my brain.

"Oh, that was Jimmy. He wants us to get together at Mario's for dinner tonight. I said six o'clock and he'll call Catherine. You're coming, right?"

She stared at me with an incredulous look on her face. "You know, when girls talk to each other we tend to utter more than two lines in the whole conversation. You know, 'Hi! How are you? I'm fine. What do you want to eat? I dunno. I kinda feel like...' and all that."

"Guys are just more efficient I guess."

She shook her head, her long hair swaying side to side. "If you say so. Oh, and of course I'm coming." She turned and sank out of sight, back to work at her own desk on the other side of the cubicle wall.

I sighed. Dinner with "The Gang" was always fun. We relaxed, we joked, we felt at ease. Francine and Catherine had graduated from school and joined Biodyne at the same time I did. We had all worked together and developed together under Jimmy's personal guidance. Hanging out with them tonight would be the highlight of my day. Now for the low point of my day. I had to check in with my fiancée. My headset still in place, I hit the speed-dial to Kelly's office. After two rings, she picked up. The conversation was the same as usual. I told her I was going out. She felt hurt that I didn't want to have dinner with her. I told her that we ate dinner together six days out of the week, and this just happened to be my one evening with my friends. She wanted to know why I wanted to stay away from her. I told her I wasn't "actively" wanting to stay away from her; I just wanted to hang out with my friends. I hung out with them once a week, every week; this was nothing new. She said "well, fine." I told her "I love you." My ears strained to hear her say it back, but all I heard was <click>, and then the dial-tone.

We were happy once. Four years ago Kelly and I were both in college, and in the middle of a whirlwind romance. Graduation came and went, we found good jobs, and moved into an apartment together. We paid off our loans, and started to save some money. Shortly after, in the same romantic spot on the beach where we'd first met, I had proposed, and she had said "yes." It was the happiest day of my life. We began to plan our future together, picking out potential baby names, buying a condo together, and planning our wedding. We were healthy, in our early twenties, and told ourselves we had a great head start on building our lives. Kelly was so happy she had found her perfect man so easily and so soon in her life. But a lot can happen in a short amount of time. Our wedding date was to be just two months from now, but I wasn't ready, and we had postponed it indefinitely.

***

By five-fifteen I had concluded my business and was ready to get out of the office. I poked my head into Francine's cubicle, but she was still hammering away at some letter or another. She said she had to stick around and finish up, but would be at Mario's by six. I told her I would see her there, and then took off.

The restaurant was only fifteen minutes away, and of course Jimmy was there quite early. I found him at the bar, taking full advantage of Happy Hour before six o'clock rolled around. He boasted that he'd been out of the office well before five. Such were the advantages of running your own sales group. Over my objections, he bought me a drink.

When I first joined Biodyne, Jimmy was already a more experienced sales rep with the company. He had a friendly, outgoing personality and an easy charm that made everyone like him. He quickly became a mentor of sorts and helped me learn the tricks of the trade. He would take time out of his own schedule to assist me on my rounds, and let me practice my presentations on him so he could critique them. We had also developed into good friends, and would regularly hang out outside of work to go to ballgames, strip clubs, bars, the usual. About a year ago, his own hard work had paid off and he was promoted to run a sales group of his own. Fortunately, he still worked in the same building, so we still found plenty of time to hang out together.

While I was in the midst of the full-blown commitment of engagement and shared housing, Jimmy's relationship was the polar opposite. He was your prototypical guy who could never commit. He had been dating his girlfriend on and off for six years. "On" because they really were very good together. "Off" because every few months or so she would get fed up with his inability to commit and would leave him. But in the end, she always came back. Jimmy was a firm believer that the perfect relationship was one in which the guy had his life, she had her life, and they always could come together for a good time. He was a man who probably would never get married, and didn't really want kids.

Back to the restaurant though. Jimmy knocked back another beer before six o'clock. Right on schedule, the girls arrived. They had apparently driven together in Francine's car, and as they sashayed through the door side-by-side, all conversation stopped as every male within fifteen feet of the door stared at them. I guess they had taken the time to change while at the office, because there was no way upper management would let them work in the clothes that now semi-covered their sexy bodies.

Francine wore a short black miniskirt and three-inch heels in an effort to boost her petite height. Her full tits threatened to break through her sheer, backless halter-top. I knew from past conversations that she'd had them "enhanced" a couple of years back, although it appeared no one had any complaints with the results. She bounced perkily through the door, ignoring the stares and quickly caught sight of us. She beamed a wide smile in our direction, then started tugging Catherine after her.

While Franny was the flirty petite one, Catherine was the tall, quiet, and sensuous one. There was no question that she could have become a model. Her dark hair was streaked with blonde, highlighting her light hazel eyes. Tonight it was pulled up and fastened, showing off a graceful neckline. She wore high and tight slacks that showed off how long her legs were, and a stylish light purple blouse with a high collar, the top few buttons undone to show off a great rack. Almost down to the valley of her breasts, her ever-present silver cross glittered in the restaurant lighting. Catherine had gone to all-women's Catholic schools from pre-school all the way through college (St. Catherine), and was now reveling in her newfound freedom from the nuns, rapidly finding out how much of an influence she had over the male population. Despite her beauty, I had found myself thinking of Catherine much more as a friend and confidante than sex object, though. Aside from our tennis conversations, we had talked often of our own personal relationships, problems at work, whatever. I knew that I could always count on her if I needed someone to talk to. We used to talk every day until she was transferred to a different sales group, which put her on a higher floor.

We had just finished our pecks and hugs in greeting when the restaurant pager buzzed in Jimmy's pocket, alerting us that our table for four was ready. After Jimmy (the big spender) ordered two appetizer plates and some exotic alcoholic concoction we settled into our ritual inane conversation. They asked how Kelly was, and I told them she was "fine." I asked how each of their significant others were, and was moderately pleased to hear them say "fine" in the same dismissive tone.

***

After dinner was over, Francine declared that it was far too early to go home. She was feeling the urge to get out onto a dance floor somewhere. Jimmy quickly suggested a trendy bar we had been to several times, one that featured a good DJ and a nice dance floor. Since I lived back in the same direction as the office, where Catherine had left her car, I offered to drive with Catherine and drop her off on the way back.

Once on the way, we of course struck up the usual conversation. I asked Catherine when her boyfriend was going to propose. She said that it probably would happen soon. The problem, of course, was that he didn't love her, and she didn't love him either. They had met through a family friend just before she graduated, and they had clicked on some level. But ultimately, they were together for all of the wrong reasons. Alex was six years older than she was, and in the middle of climbing up the management ranks of his family's company. He was quite wealthy, and in fact had given her the Mercedes she now drove as a birthday gift. He represented security and a life of wealth. For him, Catherine was the perfect trophy wife. She was shy, sweet, and submissive to his every command. Yet she was gorgeous, and looked quite good hanging on his arm. He would probably trade her in for a new model after fifteen years or so, but Catherine would likely get a nice divorce settlement to live off of. But there was no love.

As she kept talking, I noticed how her eyes would mist up, and her voice would slightly break every now and then. We had talked about her relationship before, and with each passing conversation about it, she seemed to open up more and more to me. She softly spoke about how he never seemed interested in what she wanted out of their relationship, content to buy her expensive gifts as if that was all that was required of him. Whenever she felt sad or emotional, she knew that she could never rely on him for support.

Seizing on sudden insight, I asked if she had ever told him any of this. A single tear escaped her eyes and ran down her cheek. She never could tell him. They simply never communicated. In fact, Francine and I were the only ones Catherine ever talked to about her relationship. When we were stopped at a red light, she leaned across the seat and kissed me tenderly on the cheek. "You always listen to me."

When I felt her soft lips brush against my cheek, my heart began to race. She looked so vulnerable at this moment, her sweet eyes looking up into mine with a glow I had not seen from Kelly in a long time. Neither of us said a word, nor noticed the traffic light turn green. A complaining honk from the car behind me interrupted our reverie, and I returned my eyes to the road as we started moving again. "I'm always here if you need me," I told her.

I turned to see her smile at my words. Looking happier than she had been all night, she settled into the plush fabric of her seat. Meanwhile, my heart was still pounding. Visions of Catherine and I sharing romantic walks and cuddling under the sheets were now flying through my eyes. I blinked harshly, and shook my head to clear them out. I was in a committed relationship with Kelly. We were happy. We were engaged, and I was going to marry Kelly once I was ready to settle down... At least I hoped we were still happy.

***

The rest of the ride was uneventful, and Catherine and I duly arrived at the bar. Jimmy and Franny were already inside at a table, drinks in hand, and swaying with the music. We kept up our conversation through the first round. It was still early, and there was really no one on the dance floor yet. After the second round, however, Francine really had to get up and move. She was one of those people who whenever they got a little alcohol in their system, they simply had to dance. Her boyfriend really was not the "going-out" type of guy. He preferred to stay at home with a movie, and Francine relished every chance she got to enjoy the nightlife. Of course, most girls never want to dance alone, and so tugging on my arm, she said "Let's go, Mikey!"

In this position, with Francine leaning over me, I had a perfect view of her breasts as they were shoved into my face, straining at the fabric of her halter. My body reacted before my brain did, and then we were striding out onto the dance floor, her hand on mine and leading the way. Just as we got into place a new dance song blared out over the speakers, and we were quickly getting jiggy with it. I was awash with the pleasure coursing through my body from the mild alcoholic buzz coupled with the ego boost that all guys get when dancing with a hot woman. I could feel the eyes of dozens of men on us, mostly on Francine and her gyrating curves of course. When a suitably pumping song came on, she began to inch forwards towards me, a wide smile dazzling on her face. I moved with her, matching her swaying hips as we came together, Francine turning about to settle her tight butt into my hips as my hands instinctively grabbed a hold of her waist.

The two of us freaking had become a fairly common occurrence lately. My relationship with Kelly had always been based more on emotion than passion, and I saw no harm in a little harmless flirting with a friend. Francine, of course, loved the attention that she never got from her boyfriend, as well as the pure fun most women find in freaking. As long as my hands stayed on her hips we both felt we would never cross that line.

Of course, that didn't mean that Francine couldn't have a little fun in teasing me. She was hot and sexy, and knew exactly what effect she had on men. And it seemed a lot safer to play with me rather than some stranger she met at a club. And so, in the last couple of weeks, Francine had begun to test how far she could bend the line. Rotating about, Francine began a sensuous gyration before me, leaning slightly forwards to afford me a wonderful view of her prodigious chest. She wrapped an arm about my neck, pulling me down to where her lips were able to reach my neck. Actually nibbling on me would probably be considered breaking the rules, and so she settled for brushing her soft lips across my sensitive skin, sending shivers through my whole body. She reached up a leg and displaying great flexibility, wrapped it about my hip. She balanced her other leg between mine, and began to grind her crotch across my leg.