A Pleasant Sort Of Torture, Part 4

Cindy was right. Reading through the meeting notes certainly brought my arousal under control, so by the time my first meeting started there was no indication that my day had started with sex other than the faint smell of it in the air. The meeting went well, even if it ran a little long, and I spent the rest of the morning doing paperwork and handling the day to day minutia of being a business owner.

It was a quarter ’til noon when my intercom buzzed. “Yeah, Cindy?” I said as I finished signing a stack of requisitions.

“Miss Parks is here to see you,” she responded through the slightly tinny speaker of the intercom.

“Thank you, Cindy,” I said. “Please show her in, then you can go to lunch.”

“Yes, sir,” she said. A few seconds later the door to my office opened and Susan Parks walked into my office. Cindy shut the door behind her and I was left alone with the my first ex-wife. It had been ten years since I had seen her, and that had been too long. She was still as tall and voluptuous as I remembered, but the years had only made her more beautiful. Gone were the sharp angels of her face, rounded by time, and the laugh lines around her eyes and mouth suggested her life had been good.

“So, black hair now,” I said. “It looks great on you.” I walked around my desk and grabbed her in a hug that pulled her off of her feet. She laughed and hugged back.

“You’re looking pretty good yourself,” she said when I set her back down. Neither one of us took our arms from around the other and our bodies remained pressed against each other. “This still feels good too.”

“Yeah, it sure does,” I said. I hadn’t thought of Susan in a romantic way in years and I hadn’t expected seeing her reminding me of how great the sex had been between us. I pushed down the urge to kiss her and slowly let her go. “So,” I said, “I was a little surprised to get your call the other day.”

“Honestly I’m a little surprised I had the guts to call you,” she said as she straightened out the black, knee length skirt she wore. “This has not been easy for me, but you are the only man I have ever really trusted.”

“Thank you, I think.” I had no idea what she was talking about. She had called and asked if we could have lunch, but that was it. “Why don’t you tell me what is going on?”

“Can we talk about it at lunch?” she asked. “I’m starving.”

I smiled and said, “Sure, what are you in the mood for?”

“It’s a surprise,” she said with a wink. “I’ll drive.”

I followed her out of the building, admiring the subtle sway of her ass as she walked. The skirt she wore fit her well. It was tight enough to give me an idea what was underneath, but loose enough that I knew there was more.

“So does it look as good as you remember?” she asked. I stammered as I fumbled for an excuse, but she said, “Not my ass, I know that still looks good. I was talking about the car, Michael.”

There it was, my ’66 mustang looking every bit as beautiful as the day I got it. I bought it six months before Susan and I got married, but I lost in the divorce. It was the one thing that we had fought over. “I can’t believe you still have her,” I said as I walked up to it and ran my had along the edge of the roof. “She still looks great, just like you.”

Susan smiled and said, “Why don’t you drive?”

“Seriously?” She tossed me the keys and we got in the car. I flipped the ignition and my baby roared to life. We sped out of the parking lot in a cloud of burning rubber and squealing tires. “Wow, you really have taken good care of her,” I said.

“I really do love the car,” she said. “I didn’t fight you for it just to be a bitch.

“I know that,” I said. “If I thought you were being mean I would have fought harder. I knew you would take care of her.”

Susan directed me through the streets until we arrived in a parking garage fifteen minutes from my office. “We’re eating at the Jade Duck,” she said. The concierge said that it was excellent.” She put her hand on my leg and said, “I hope you still like chinese.”

“I do,” I said. “Shall we go?” She nodded, so I hopped out of the car , walked to the other side and opened the door for her. I was rewarded for my chivalry with a long look down the top of Susan’s blouse.

She stepped out of the car and took my hand in hers. “Thank you, Michael.” Her blouse had shifted, leaving that same, lovely view intact. I knew she was aware of it and was pleased that she didn’t bother to fix it. I offered her my arm and she took it in hers as we headed to the restaurant.

We walked in silence and for my part it was because I didn’t know what to say that wouldn’t risk an awkwardness that would ruin such a wonderful reunion. I could tell that she wanted to say something, but I didn’t know what. My mind raced with the possibilities.

Lunch was nice and casual. We flirted while we ate and ignored the tension of things left unsaid. When the plates were cleared we ordered coffee. I was enjoying myself, but I wasn’t in the mood to wait any longer. “Thank you for the lunch, but what is it that you needed to ask me about?”

Susan sighed and placed her hands in her lap. “You know this is not easy for me, Michael, and I wouldn’t ask if I wasn’t desperate.”

“It’s okay, Susan.”

She took a deep breath and continued. “I’m broke. I had everything invested and when the market crashed I lost my entire portfolio and three weeks later I lost my job. I still have my house and the cars, but I have nothing to build on. I want to start my own business, but I’m a little afraid to put up the house as collateral. I was hoping you would invest in my company.”

“How much do you need?” I asked.

“One-hundred thousand in the bank will give me enough to convince the banks to give me a loan, but–.”

“Done. I’ll get the check cut this afternoon.”

“You don’t even know what the business is,” she said.

“I don’t need to know. I’m not investing in your company. I am investing in you, and I know you pretty well.” I slid across the seat and sat closer to her. I put my hand on hers and said, “I know you wouldn’t have come to me unless you knew you could succeed, so I am in.”

“Oh Michael, I don’t know what to say,” she said.

I smiled and said, “How about thank you?”

Susan laughed and threw her arms around my neck as she said, “Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.” She kissed me on the lips, but pulled away. Susan blushed, but did not take her arms away.

I put my hands on her hips and held her close. “I’ve missed you, Susan.”

“I’ve missed you too, Michael.” She leaned forward and we kissed. Our mouths never opened, but we could feel the urge. I put my hand on her stockinged leg and slid it up until my fingers were touching her bare skin. Susan pulled back and said, “I have a room at this hotel.”

I turned and waved to the waiter. “Check please.”

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