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without permission. Take a look at some of my other stuff at 
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you enjoy it and would love to hear feedback at 
secretdcguy@hotmail.com.


My Seven Sins
Chapter 5: Envy
(MF, f-dom)


	Though I had hoped to slip out of Chicago early the next 
morning, not to avoid traffic, but to avoid the shame of what I 
now perceive to be a failure, I ended up sleeping until almost 8 
o'clock. So I only had time for a quick breakfast before I got on 
the road. Driving west, the city turned in the suburbs. Eventually, 
I passed Aurora and left the Chicagoland area. I passed DeKalb, 
Rochelle, and Sterling. I crossed into Iowa passing Davenport, 
Iowa City and Des Moines. Finally, just across the border I spent 
a sleepless night in a crummy roadside motel on the western 
fringes of Omaha, Nebraska.

	I had never made the drive before, and it felt particularly 
tedious. Once I had moved to Denver, there was really no reason 
for me to come East-at least until I had met my wife. So after I 
had been unceremoniously shipped out of Chicago, the only time 
I had passed through the middle of the country was much further 
north when my wife and I headed east. There was nothing for me 
there in the middle of the country, just as I knew there was 
nothing ahead for me in the city to which I was traveling.

	The next morning, it took 5 cups of burnt coffee before I 
could get going. Leaving Omaha, I continued west passing 
through endless farmland until I reached what remained of the 
true prairies of the Great Plains. Eventually, as I climbed higher 
into the foothills of the Rockies, I could see the mountains 
looming in the distance. They were an army of giants guarding 
the far end of the city where I had never wanted to live and to 
which I had never wanted to return-Denver, Colorado.

	As I skirted the downtown on my way to the club at which I 
was staying, I briefly glimpsed the building in which I used to 
work. As I understood that my old company was still there, it was 
the place to which I did not want to go. Matters became worse, 
when I lugged my suitcase to the front desk and checked in. 
There were no problems with the actual club. The problem was a 
message that had been left for me. It was from Melissa Skipper, 
the person I had come to see, that stated that she would not be 
able to meet that evening, but to come by her office the next 
afternoon. I had hoped the visit would be quick, but apparently I 
would be disappointed.

	After settling in, I had a quick workout before an early 
dinner. I left my dirty laundry with the front desk, giving an 
extra-large tip to have everything done by noon the next day. 
After eating, I spent the rest of the evening in the billiards room 
watching baseball with some locals and getting drunk.

	I was awoken late the next morning to the concierge 
knocking at my door. My laundry was done on time, and I had 
slept long enough that I did not have a hangover. Part of me 
wished that I could have  had one so bad that I could use it as an 
excuse to get out of meeting Melissa. However, I needed to see 
her as soon as possible. It would be the hardest of my visits and I 
did not really want to make it, but to fully make peace with my 
past I had to see her. 

*               *               *

	If there were truly such thing as a toxic relationship, my 
relationship with Melissa Skipper was a case study. We had met 
on my first day at the Denver office. I had been shipped out of 
Chicago so fast that I had never been told what kind of job I 
would be doing there. I had assumed that it would beessentially 
the same thing I had been doing in Chicago, so I was surprised 
that instead of being taken to the office of a small team leader-
the company's organizational structure was small teams, 
sections, branches, and divisions-I was taken into to see the 
branch director when I reported to the office the Monday after I 
arrived in Denver. 

	I did not know what to expect when the human resources 
officer walked me to the door. When he knocked, I heard a 
woman's voice call for whomever it was to come in. I waited for 
the guy escorting me to take me in and introduce me, but instead 
he just opened the door and told me to go in. Before I could even 
look around the room, I heard the door close behind me.

	As I adjusted to where I was, I saw woman who looked older 
than me but still relatively young sitting at a desk on the far side 
of the room. She looked serious, but still had a wry smile on her 
face. It was as if she was expecting something, and was quite 
satisfied. My opinion of Denver immediately started to pick up, as 
I felt my work would be appreciated there.

	Without saying a word, the woman motioned for me to sit in 
a chair on the opposite side of her desk. I did as instructed, and 
she began what seemed like a well-rehearsed speech. She told 
me her name, and told me to call her Ms. Skipper around the 
office. However, she also said that she thought I might be going 
places in the company, so in private, I could just call her Melissa. 
It seemed somewhat strange that she would do that, but I 
figured that she probably had her favorites. After the way 
Chicago ended, I did not mind being one of them.

	However, as my new boss continued to speak, it became 
apparent that she either did not know the circumstances of my 
transfer or wanted me to think that she did not. On one hand it 
pleased me because I probably would be able to make a real new 
start. On the other hand, it made me fearful for what might 
happen when word finally spread. Of course, I did not want to 
take the initiative and make a confession, so I just listened to the 
details of my job with a pleasant smile.

	I should have begun to realize that there was something 
more to the situation than just a new boss taking interest in an 
employee, when at the end of the day Melissa offered to 
personally drive me to the corporate apartment where I was 
staying. It had been an exhausting day, and I would have been 
more than happy to take a taxi home and collapsed into bed. 
However, Melissa insisted that she take me to dinner. As I did not 
know the city, and I thought it would be polite, I accepted her 
offer.

	After a short ride in a brand new Chevrolet Corvette 
convertible, we arrived at the restaurant which was nothing like 
the quaint little neighborhood places where Shanika and I had 
gone in Chicago. Instead, it was one of the most expensive 
steakhouses in town. I thought that it was an expensive place, 
even for division director, so I tried to be frugal. Melissa, though, 
ordered a bottle of wine and insisted that I get a fillet. After 
dessert and a cocktail, she pulled out a company credit card. 
Without thinking, I asked if it was okay that she do that. Her 
laughter was almost condescending when she told me that she 
was an up-and-coming executive and they let her do what she 
wanted.

	Melissa and I both decided that it was a bad idea for her to 
drive and luckily, her condo was right down the block. So suffice 
it to say, I was surprised that when I slid into a taxi, she slid in 
right next to me. I was shocked and confused by what happened 
next. Instead of keeping a professional distance, Melissa slid up 
right next to me. At first, she tried to intertwine our arms like 
Shanika had always done. But those memories were too difficult 
at the moment, so I pulled away. Melissa was not deterred, and 
settled for holding my hand.

	For a few minutes, I had held the ludicrous idea that maybe 
we were just going down the block to her condo. I thought that 
there she would get out and end the strangeness. However, 
quickly I was dissuaded of any false impressions when we left the 
neighborhood and continued crosstown to the corporate 
apartment.

	Soon enough, I was unlocking my door. I expected Melissa 
to follow me inside, but instead, she grabbed me by my arm and 
spun me around. She laid a passionate kiss on my mouth while 
pulling me tight against her. Unconsciously, I reacted by putting 
my hand behind her head and pulling her towards me. I was 
pretty sure where the night was going.

	My mind was conflicted. As I felt another woman's lips touch 
mine, I realized that I missed Shanika. However, my body also 
wanted to touch Melissa partly to reaffirm that I could meet 
another woman, one who was at a better place then Shanika was. 
Again, though, she was my superior, so anything happening 
might be a bad idea. Eventually, the passion won out and I took 
her hand to lead her into the apartment.

	I was surprised when Melissa did not budge. I must have 
looked strangely at her because she said nothing would be 
happening tonight. She wanted me to think about what I was 
going to do. She warned me that she would give me no benefit if 
I slept with her. I would still have to earn anything I got at the 
company. People might also talk, so I had to think about that.

	I was about to give an answer that I was ready no matter 
what, but Melissa let go of my hand. With a wink she turned and 
walked back to the elevator. She reminded me of a cock sure cat 
walking away as she sashayed down the hallway. With a wave 
and another wink she got into the elevator. Frustrated, I did not 
even make it to the bedroom before I worked the load out of 
myself. 

	The next day at work, Melissa acted like nothing happened. I 
really did not know what she had been looking for the previous 
night, but it was apparent that in the grand scheme of things, it 
had not meant much to her. She was not rude or mean, and she 
was definitely not embarrassed. Instead, she was professional 
and friendly, but gave no indication of any interest. By the end of 
the day, I had convinced myself that she must have been drunk 
and not remembered the night before.

	However, when I got back to my work space at the end of 
the day, I had a hint that Melissa had been thinking about me to 
some extent. In the middle of my desk, not particularly well 
hidden, was a set of car keys with a note underneath. It read that 
there was a company car waiting for me in the garage. I should 
use it until my car was delivered from Chicago in a few days. 
Though I should have probably been suspicious of her intentions 
or at least thought about what other people might have thought, 
I just smiled to myself thinking that someone at this company 
actually cared about me. 

	I was even more surprised when I got to the parking space 
and found the Corvette that I had been in the night before. When 
I looked inside, there was a piece of paper on the driver seat. I 
opened the door and slid inside, picking up the note as I sat 
down. Looking at it, the only thing I saw was an address and 
directions. Though it did not say I should go there, I got the 
distinct feeling that it was an invitation. 

	It was not a long drive from the garage to the address listed 
on the paper. It turned out to be a very nice hotel that housed 
one of the best known restaurants in the city. As I handed the car 
keys to the valet, the doorman called over to me. He did not ask 
my name, but simply if I was looking for Melissa Skipper. When I 
said that I was, he directed me to the restaurant where she was 
apparently waiting for me. I thanked him and walked through the 
lobby, thinking it odd that somehow he seemed to know exactly 
who Melissa was.

	It was the same when I told the hostess who I was. In fact, 
at first she said that Melissa was at her regular table, but quietly 
muttered that it was the first time she had seen me so I probably 
did not know where it was. Then she led me through the main 
dining room to a small, dimly lit, private room in the back. Inside, 
I saw Melissa relaxing on a couch with a glass of wine.

	I was overwhelmingly impressed by the private dining room, 
and was a bit intimidated to enter. However, when Melissa saw 
me hesitating at the door, she gave a wry smile and invited me to 
join her. I did not know whether to sit at the table or on the 
couch with her. However, my boss's boss indicated that I should 
join her by extending a glass of red wine without standing up 
from the couch. As I walked across the room towards her, I heard 
the door close behind us. 

	In the shadows, Melissa looked older than she did in the 
office. However, it was in a sophisticated way. She wore the same 
suit she had in the office that day, but with a few buttons of the 
blouse undone. Somehow, her skirt also looked shorter too. 
Finally, she wore more makeup than I had seen her wear in the 
office, with what appeared to be deep red lipstick that had left a 
stain on her glass. All told, she exuded a womanly sexuality, 
making me feel like I had never seen a real woman before.

	With each step across the room, Melissa's smile seemed to 
grow bigger, but she did not say a word until I had sit down next 
to her and sipped a glass of wine. Then, all she said was she 
knew I would come before she took my glass of wine and putting 
it on a small the table next to her, straddled me and began to 
kiss me deeply. She was on top, and completely in control, but I 
happily responded as her tongue slipped through my lips and 
danced in my mouth.

	Melissa's kisses were slow and sultry, as she deliberately 
ground her hips down into me. Somehow, I was in the right 
position for her to feel me through our clothing. As I got harder, 
she began to softly moan. After a few minutes, right as I was 
beginning to feel like I might shoot in my pants, she let out a 
growl and pushed into me as hard as she could. 

	Melissa's hips stopped and she smiled. Then getting off of 
me, she told me that it had only been a little one, but that was 
okay because she would have a bigger one later. Though I was 
left frustrated, I assumed that she would help me finish later. So 
I happily accepted her hand to help me stand up, and held it 
tenderly as we walked to the table.

	Dinner was Chilean sea bass, which I had never eaten 
before. Melissa had preordered it, so there was no need to look at 
a menu. Instead, I let her make all the decisions about the 
dinner. Though part of me wished I could have been involved in 
the decision-making process, I was awestruck by how much she 
seemed to know about high-class things I had never even 
thought about. The wine before dinner was perfect, as were the 
appetizers and the main course. Even the cocktails that we 
shared after dessert seemed to perfectly complement everything 
else. Everything I tried, I loved, and was thankful to Melissa for 
introducing me to it.

	After Melissa told the waiter the room to which the dinner 
should be charged, I got more excited than I had about sex since 
the time with Carly Johnson just before I went away to college. 
Two nights in a row, she had worked me to a greater level of 
excitement than I could imagine, and now we were going to a 
hotel room. To say I was excited was an understatement.

	In front of the main elevators, Melissa turned and looked at 
me as if she were going to kiss me. Instead, with a wry smile on 
her face, she reached inside my pocket. A moment of excitement 
was dashed though, when I felt her pulled the car keys out of my 
pocket. Then in a matter-of-fact way, she told me that my car 
had been delivered to the corporate apartment, and that she 
would need the Corvette the next morning.

	I was so stunned by the quick change in her manner that I 
did not realize Melissa had pushed the up button on the elevator. 
Though I was still a little stunned when the elevator door opened, 
I still tried to stagger in with her. However, a gentle finger in the 
middle of my chest informed me I should stop. Looking at me as 
if I were a child, Melissa told me that I would not be coming 
upstairs with her; she had someone else to meet. As the door 
closed, she told me that I needed to look for my own apartment 
the next evening because I could not stay in the corporate 
apartment forever.

	I watched as the numbers above the elevator counted up. 
Finally, the number stopped at what must have been one of the 
highest levels. The woman with whom I had had dinner, with 
whom I had thought I would be spending a night of passion, was 
upstairs meeting another man. All I could do was hail a cab and 
ride home in a state of confusion.

	The next morning, I found my Mustang in a parking space in 
the basement of the building with the corporate apartment in 
which I was staying. As I drove the car to work, I wondered what 
Melissa would be like the next morning. I found out quickly as we 
ended up on the same elevator going to our floor. We were alone, 
so I at least expected a wink or some other sign that she enjoyed 
herself. Instead, she again acted like nothing had happened.

	When I got to my desk I sighed. Apparently, that was how it 
was going to be-at night I would be Melissa's plaything, while 
during the day, I would be just another employee. In the overall 
scheme of things, it was not that bad. Dinners like the night 
before would more than make up for that lack of 
acknowledgement during the day. After the way things ended 
with Shanika, I was not looking for a relationship anyway. 

	At the end of the day, I found a listing of apartments on my 
desk. An attached note read that they were places I could afford. 
It was not signed, but I suspected that they were from Melissa. 
The writing did not look like what I had seen of hers, but I did not 
know who else would have left them. 

	Before I went back to the corporate apartment that night, I 
viewed all of the apartments on the list. I generally knew where 
Melissa lived, so I was disappointed that none were near her 
neighborhood. Though I was tempted to rent the one closest to 
her apartment, it was in a pretty run down building. Instead, I 
took a one-bedroom basement apartment in an up and coming 
neighborhood that had a private parking space in the back. 

	The next day I made an appointment with Melissa to see 
about how I could get my stuff from the storage to my new 
apartment. In her usual professional manner, she asked for my 
new address and said she would have it arranged. When she 
asked for my key later that day, I figured it was part of the 
process, but secretly hoped it would be more. 

	As I exited her office, Dave McDade, my direct supervisor 
and the person between Melissa and me, called me into his office. 
At first he started asking me how I enjoyed my new position and 
how the employees who reported to me were treating me. It 
seemed somewhat routine, until he noted that he had just seen 
me in Melissa's office and asked about why I was meeting with 
her. I had a sneaking feeling that there was something behind 
the question, so I tried to avoid a direct answer. Eventually 
though, I did get to the fact that I was moving out of the 
corporate apartment and needed to find out how I could get my 
stuff from storage. Though relieved, he told me that I should just 
come to him with those questions and not to bother Melissa with 
such minor things. She was an important person and quite busy. 
I half-heartedly thanked him, and went back to my desk.

	At the end of the day, I was hoping to find a note about 
where to meet Melissa. Instead, there was simply one stating 
that my stuff was moved to my new apartment. The handwriting 
did not match that from the note from the evening before-they 
were similar, but still different. It was puzzling, but I figured that 
Melissa must have written one of them quickly.

	Most of my stuff was already set up when I got to my new 
place. However, I still needed to do some unpacking, which 
distracted me for most of the evening. When I finally fell into bed 
about 10 o'clock, I only gave a cursory thought to the fact that it 
was the first night since I had started my new position that I had 
not seen Melissa.

	The next day went much the same as the days prior. Melissa 
acted professionally and somewhat aloof. Again, at the end of the 
day I was hoping for a note of some kind on my desk directing 
me to a restaurant or maybe her apartment. However, there was 
none. As I was about to head out the door, my direct supervisor 
slapped a ticket down in front of me and asked if I was a baseball 
fan. When I said I was, he told me we were going to a game that 
night. 

	Dave McDade was an enigma for my company. He was 
almost 20 years older than everyone on his team, but still a great 
programmer. In fact, he could find errors in people's code without 
even running it for errors. I would come to find he was a very 
good manager as well, caring about his employees to a point few 
others would. Unfortunately, I would not discover that until I had 
almost hit rock bottom. 

	While we were at the game, we talked about the company 
and what I should expect. We talked about the people who 
worked under me and who could be expected to do which tasks 
well. Eventually, the subject turned to Melissa. I could tell he felt 
he was treading lightly when he told me that she was not an 
employee in the same league as he or I was. She was on her way 
up the ladder and there were important people helping her-the 
last part seemed to have an unstated insinuation. He warned me 
that the situation in Chicago was known to management and I 
should not let anyone take advantage of that. Finally, he 
cautioned me against getting caught up in nice things anyone 
might offer me; there was always a catch. 

	By the end of the conversation, I was both scared and 
indignant. Not only had he warned me that there might be people 
out to get me, but also seemed to insinuate that Melissa might be 
one of them. And the part about not accepting nice things hurt 
considerably. Since I had graduated college, my life had been a 
rollercoaster. I had gotten a dream job, but then lost my parents. 
I had a relationship with a beautiful woman who seemed to adore 
me, but it had almost destroyed my career. For once, I thought, I 
deserved to have good things happen to me.

	The next day in the office was uneventful. The only thing 
that was seemingly out of the ordinary was the fact that Dave 
and Melissa seemed to have had a somewhat tense meeting. 
Something in the back of my mind made me think that it might 
be about me, but when I asked Dave what it, he said that we had 
a major project behind schedule.

	Some of the guys at the office asked me to get a beer after 
work, but I decided that it had been a long week and I should go 
home instead. I ordered a pizza for dinner and put the movie 
"Field of Dreams" into the VCR. As I watched the movie about a 
farmer who builds a baseball field after plowing under his corn, I 
began to think about where my life had gone. I thought about the 
last week with Melissa, Shanika and the star-crossed year in 
Chicago, the sudden disappearance of my friend-with-benefits 
Heather, the beautiful but boring Lizzy, and finally the young and 
pretty Carly Johnson. Each had brought me a step along the 
journey to a couch in a basement most of the way across the 
country from where I had grown up. Though I tried to tell myself, 
that I had made the right decisions, watching the movie made me 
pine for the small town life I had had as a child. I wondered if 
there was a way I could get that life back, but was distracted by a 
knock on the door.

	As I opened the door, I noticed Melissa on the other side of 
the security gate. She was wearing a knee-length coat that 
looked too warm even though it was a relatively chilly evening. 
Without her asking, I opened the gate. As she walked in, I 
noticed she was wearing boots that rose almost to the bottom of 
her coat. Something made me wonder what she was wearing 
underneath. 

	Without a word, Melissa picked up the remote control and 
turned off the TV. Then turning towards me, she slowly 
unbuttoned the coat, and with a shrug of her shoulders, she let it 
fall to the ground. In the glow of a halogen lamp, I saw that she 
wore a black push-up bra and garter belt, though no stockings or 
panties. In essence, she looked like a stereotypical middle aged 
woman who was trying to seduce a younger man. 

     The one thing that looked out of place was her hair down 
below. Instead of the bush like the women from my younger 
years or the patch that Shanika had, Melissa had her hair shaved 
into a single line running from the bottom of her stomach, across 
her mons, to the place to which I had been denied twice this 
week. She must have noticed me looking at it because she asked 
if I liked her 'stripper stripe'. When I nodded that I did, she 
sauntered across the room to me and kissed me gently on the 
lips. Then she whispered in my ear that I would find she was 
really a little whore.
     
     With that, she kissed me deeply. As her tongue forced its 
way into my mouth, I felt desperation, as if there were something 
that she wanted that only I could give her. Grabbing the back of 
her head with my hand, I joined the aggression and pulled her 
towards me. However, Melissa did not seem to enjoy it. Instead, 
she pushed me away and stepped back. Looking slightly angry, 
she ordered me to my knees and told me to lick her pussy.
     
     I did not exactly like the way she talked to me, but I was 
already turned on and hoped that this time might lead to bed. So 
I got on one knee in front of her, and pulled her close. Then with 
my hands grabbing her behind, I contorted my head so that my 
tongue could reach the place she wanted me to lick. As I worked 
my way up and down her pussy, taking special care to dance 
around her clit, Melissa's legs bowed and she moaned. It was not 
the young and sexy mews that other women I had had let out or 
even the moans of sheer pleasure that Heather made. Instead, 
they seemed to exude both a sense of dominance and relief, as if 
commanding me to pleasure her gave her something that she 
needed but did not have. 
     
     As I continued to pleasure her, she began to tell me how I 
was a good young stud and how much I turned her on. 
Eventually, she was pulling my face into her body with both 
hands, rocking her hips against the rhythms of my tongue. 
Finally, a gush of wetness shot out of her pussy as she let out her 
biggest moan I had ever heard from her. Part of me felt as if I 
would drown in whatever it was, but I got a sense of satisfaction 
when she said that no man had made her squirt in a long time.
     
     When Melissa helped me back to my feet, I expected her to 
pick up her coat and leave. After all, the two times I had been 
with her previously had ended up with her leaving me excited but 
frustrated. However, instead of picking up her coat, she asked me 
to show her my bedroom. When I hesitated with surprise, she 
told me that she was actually going to let me inside of her that 
night. 
     
     Though I led her to the bedroom, it was clear that she was 
still in charge. When I tried to kiss her, she rebuffed my attempt. 
Instead, she turned and bent over my bed with her ass in the air. 
Then telling me she was already wet, she told me to fuck her 
brains out. I did not need another invitation.
     
     In seconds my pants were on the ground and I was about to 
enter her. I asked her if I should put a condom on, but she curtly 
said that she had had her tubes tied a long time ago. No child 
was going to block her way to the top.  With that she thrust her 
hips back, sinking me deep inside of her. With a loud moan she 
told me that was what she needed.
     
     I was shocked at how long I lasted. Melissa managed to 
have two more orgasms before I shot my load deep inside of her. 
As I did, she coaxed me by telling me that she knew I wanted to 
fill my boss with my cum. She was correct. In fact, all I could 
think about was leaving a part of myself inside of her.
     
     Afterward, I expected her to collapse onto my bed in 
exhaustion, or to kiss me and tell me how good I was. Instead, 
she led me back out to the living room and picked up her coat. I 
asked her if she wanted to stay, but she replied that she was not 
about to go slumming it tonight. Instead, she put the coat on and 
walked out the door.
     
     That weekend, I spent the days sorting things out in my 
apartment and exploring my neighborhood, while at night I sat at 
home and waited just in case Melissa showed up. But she did not. 
I wished I had a way to call her, but she had never given me any 
way to contact her. By Sunday night I was thoroughly depressed. 
     
     On Monday morning, I found myself staring at the door to 
Melissa's office when Dave pulled me into his office again. This 
time he directly warned me that Melissa was bad news. He asked 
me if I realized why she was able to use the company credit card 
for anything she wanted and how she could always get the 
perfect company car. It was not that she had people protecting 
her; she was using her body as a way to the top. According to 
Dave, she had to put up with executives using her as a piece of 
meat, and needed to feel powerful somewhere. His theory was 
that I was going to be her play toy.
     
     The warning should have put me off. After all, he was telling 
me that I was nothing to her. However, he had just about lost me 
when he talked about how she was using her body to get all of 
the nice things she wanted. Perhaps if I was going to be her play 
toy, I could get some of them too. Maybe I could even use her to 
get ahead myself. 
     
     I thanked Dave for his advice and walked out of his office. 
As I returned to my work space, I saw Melissa standing at the 
door to her office looking from me to Dave's door and back. After 
a few minutes she gave me a smirk and returned to her office, 
closing the door behind her. 
     
     That evening Melissa showed up at my door again. I went 
down on her just like I had on Friday night, and then fucked her 
with her bent over my bed again. On Wednesday there was 
another invitation to dinner at the restaurant to which she had 
taken me, but like the last time I was left at the elevator doors. It 
was a toxic cycle. At the end of each day I would hope for a note 
or something of the sort to be at my desk. If there was not, I 
would sit at home all evening waiting for her to knock at my door.
     
     As the next few months went by, the pressure began to get 
to me. I began to make mistakes in my work and generally 
became an ineffective team lead. However, Dave was my 
backstop. None of my mistakes ever passed beyond him, but he 
increasingly began to warn me that something had to change. 
Eventually, he told me that I needed to get away from Melissa at 
all costs. Deep down I knew he was right, but I kept thinking that 
if I just waited a little longer my investment would pay off.
     
      In late October it seemed like it would. As I came into the 
office one Friday, I saw security guards standing outside Dave's 
office. When I went over to see what was going on, Melissa 
blocked me and told me that Dave would no longer be working 
for the company and that I should go back to my desk. As I 
walked away, Dave yelled back that I could not be her boy toy 
forever. At that Melissa sprung at him. After slapping him in the 
face, the guards held her back as he laughed.
     
     That evening I was for once hoping that Melissa would not 
come by. By the end of the day I was the acting head of my 
section. In essence, I had taken Dave's position. My investment 
in a toxic relationship had finally paid off, but it was at the 
expense of someone I thought was a pretty good guy. I just 
wanted to turn on the TV and drift into some mindless show.
     
     When I heard a knock on the door, I ran through a 
rehearsed speech about how I was tired and did not want to have 
sex. To my surprise, it was not Melissa on the other side of the 
door, but Dave. When I asked him what he was doing there, he 
told me that he and I needed to have a chat. There was a nice 
bar around the corner and he was buying. 
     
     At first we just chatted, but eventually I asked Dave what he 
would do now that he was fired. He laughed and told me that he 
had an open offer at a company in Silicon Valley. It was a small 
startup, but he thought it had a good business model and he was 
going to take over as the chief of development. He told me that I 
was a good programmer and that I should come with him. 
Something deep inside of me told me to jump at the offer, but I 
suppressed it and mentioned a new opportunity that had come 
up. At that, my former boss closed his eyes and shook his head. 
Somehow he knew that the opportunity was his old job. He pulled 
out a business card and wrote a phone number on the back. He 
told me that it was the number at his sister's place in San Jose 
where he would be staying. I was sure I would need it sooner 
rather than later. Then he gave me a pat on the back, dropped a 
$20 on the bar and walked out the door.
     
     Over the next few weeks I tried my hardest at my new 
position and it seemed to pay off. Though I was not having sex 
with Melissa as much, she seemed to be impressed by how well I 
led the section. Overall, we did not improve over how well we did 
with Dave, but according to the other programmers I brought a 
new young energy to the job. By the end of November I was sure 
that the job would be mine permanently.
     
     Then disaster struck in the strangest way. One day, during a 
full staff meeting, the head of the Denver office complimented me 
on the work my section was doing. He joked to Melissa that she 
needed me to be careful, lest I end up taking her job. Needless to 
say, she did not seem amused. 
     
     After that, there were no more dinners or late night knocks 
at my door. Instead, there was a decision that there should be a 
full job search for the section chief position. At first I thought I 
would still be a shoe in, but my interview made it seem as if 
Melissa did not want me in the position. Finally, the Friday before 
Christmas it was announced that a woman from a different 
division would get the position. My staff was indignant, but I was 
simply shocked and I could not understand what I had done 
wrong. 
     
     I decided I needed an answer, so I walked into Melissa's 
office without even knocking. There I saw her kissing the woman 
who had gotten the job over me. Stunned, I stood there just 
staring at them. I was not sure if they noticed me or not until I 
turned to leave the room. It was then I heard Melissa chirp, "Bye-
bye". I knew that meant more than just a salutation for me 
leaving her office. 
     
     My life hit rock bottom on Christmas Eve. I had put in a full 
day of work trying to ignore the fact that this would be my first 
Christmas completely alone without my parents, friends, or a 
girlfriend. I was ready to find some crumby restaurant to get 
some dinner before I hit a bar I knew would be open, when a 
security guard walked up behind me. After handing me a box, he 
asked me to pack up my personal belongings. As I did, the 
woman who had taken the job I wanted stood over the desk to 
make sure I did not steal anything from the company. When I 
was done, she handed me a letter saying that I was terminated 
for sexual harassing my branch director. It continued that this 
was my second offence with the company and termination was 
the only option. 
     
     I drove home in a daze. Instead of going to the restaurant I 
got two hotdogs and a six-pack of beer at a convenience store. 
There in the darkness of my apartment I started to cry. I had no 
idea what I was going to do. I had no job, nowhere else to go, 
and nobody to turn to. I felt almost as if my life were over. 
     
     Then almost miraculously I saw it. As I was getting my 
fourth beer from the refrigerator, I noticed my old boss's card 
stuck to the door with a magnet. Without even considering what 
time it was, I called the number. A very sweet woman answer the 
phone, but politely told me that they were about to sit down to 
dinner. Ignoring what she said, I told her who I was and asked if 
Dave McDade was there. Without asking anything else, I heard 
her put down the phone and call for him. 
     
     Fifteen minutes later, I had accepted a job offer and was 
leaving voice mail messages for moving companies that promised 
speedy moving services. 
     
*               *               *
     
     I was finally sitting in Melissa Skipper's waiting room at 
about 3:00 PM. I was very nervous seeing her again, but had the 
feeling that it was something that I needed to do if I were to get 
my life back on track. In the years since she had gotten me fired 
from the company, she had become a vice-president in charge of 
all of the company's operations in the Denver office. She was 
widely known in tech circles as the top female tech exec. 
However she had done it, she had done quite well for herself.
     
     When her door opened, I expected to have an assistant call 
me inside to speak with her. Instead, it was an older, but still 
attractive Melissa stood at the door. She wore a conservative 
business suit that revealed almost nothing about her body. 
Immediately, though, I wanted to see what it was like 
underneath. 
     
     Melissa gave me a warm smile, walked across the room, and 
hugged me. Then almost in tears she apologized for what she had 
done to me years before. At first I began to grow angry thinking 
about how she had almost destroyed me. But when I looked at 
her face again and saw what looked like real remorse, my heart 
melted. There was something different about her. Perhaps the top 
was not what she hoped it would be. 
     
     We chatted for a few minutes with me complimenting her on 
her position with the company and her complimenting me on my 
career. She seemed to have followed it enough to know that I 
had sold up. When I told that it was because my wife and partner 
had died, she seemed truly sorry. She even told me that if I was 
looking for a new challenge, she could find a place for me at the 
company. In all seemed sincere and in the moment I forgave her.
     
     We had not made any plans as neither of us had known how 
the meeting would go, so I invited her to dinner at the club. She 
made a counter offer that she would take me to her favorite 
restaurant. The catch was that I had to go downstairs with her 
and meet 'her children'. It seemed a strange request coming from 
a woman who had gotten her tubes tied at a young age so she 
did not have to deal with a pregnancy. However, I was willing to 
follow her lead, so I agreed. 
     
     We took the elevator to the ground floor and turned down a 
hallway that led to a side entrance of the building. We passed a 
door with a sign "Bubbles and Books Early Childhood Learning 
Center". I would never have considered the company to be family 
friendly, so I did a second take at the sign. Melissa must have 
seen me because she flatly said that we had to enter through the 
front door. Though she seemed to think I understood what it 
meant, in reality I did not. 
     
     Immediately to the right of the side entrance to the building 
was the main door for the Learning Center. The woman who had 
ruthless destroyed my career with the company and seemed to 
have no focus on anything but her job entered as if it was the 
natural place for her to be. In only a second the children saw her 
and started to yell hello to their "Grandma Missy". 
     
     I was surprised. Not only did it seem as if this was a place 
Melissa regularly visited, but it seemed as if she were a popular 
figure. The staff quickly ushered her through a gate to throngs of 
waiting children who pummeled each other for the chance to hug 
her leg. I, on the other hand, had to present ID and assure them 
I was not a criminal.
     
     By the time I got through the gate, Melissa was sitting on a 
chair as the children faced her sitting cross-leg on the floor. In 
exaggerated tones, she asked them if they wanted a story. 
Enthusiastically, they replied, "yes grandma Missy!" As she asked 
several more times, it seemed as if both her excitement and that 
of the children grew. It seemed that this was a special time for all 
of them.
     
     After introducing me as her friend Spencer, and insisting 
that they greeted me properly, she read a story about a girl who 
grew up to become a knight. It was the standard genre saying 
little girls could do anything boys can do, but it was well written. 
Sitting cross-legged behind the children, I saw serenity in her 
face that I would never have guessed existed. If there had been a 
woman who had really done wrong to me, it was her; and she did 
it with the bitter malice that would have shocked even the most 
jaded people. Now, as I sat watching her, she looked every bit 
the doting grandmother the children seemed to think she was. I 
never would have pictured it; the hardened career woman willing 
to do whatever it took to succeed was taking time out of her 
afternoon to playfully entertain children.
     
     Before my trip, I had not caught up with her at all. Part of 
me had even expected that she would decline to see me. Instead, 
a woman in some way had obviously changed was letting me see 
what may or may not be a very intimate part of life. I thought the 
day on which I saw her kissing the woman who had taken the job 
to which I felt I was entitled. Perhaps, there had been a side of 
Melissa Skipper that she had not let me see. The fact that in our 
time together she never talked about her life outside of the office 
and that she had never even let me see where she lived could 
have meant that even our affair was not really intimate from her 
perspective.
     
     I must have been lost deep in my thoughts, because I was 
shaken back to reality by the children begging their Grandma 
Missy to stay a little while longer. In a calming and reassuring 
voice, she told them that she had to take Mister Spencer to 
dinner, but to make it up to them she would come back an extra 
time this week. As the children cheered, she extended her hand 
to help me up. As we walked out the front door, it seemed a 
thousand goodbyes were shouted behind us.
     
     I thought that because of her high level position, Melissa 
would have called a car service or taking me out in a new sports 
car. Instead, she surprised me by hailing a cab on the street. 
When the driver asked her where to take us, she said the name 
of the neighborhood. It sounded vaguely familiar, though I could 
not remember ever being there. When I asked where we were 
going, she replied that when we got there, everything would be 
clear. After that, we rode in silence.
     
     The trip was brief, and soon we were standing outside of 
what looked like quite a nice bar. It did not appear to be the 
high-end type of place I would have pictured Melissa going. 
Instead, even from the outside there was a feeling that this was a 
comfortable and welcoming place. Surprisingly, Melissa 
interlocked our arms and pulled me towards the door.
     
     As I peered around the room, I began to understand a little 
bit more about this woman who at one point tried to destroy my 
life. There was no one particular theme. There was a polished bar 
with high end liquors on stands, but a pyramid cheap beer cans 
on a shelf higher up. On one side, there were two pool tables and 
overhead televisions with sports channels playing, while on the 
other side, there was a fireplace with couches and lounge chairs. 
In between them, there were run-of-the-mill dinner tables with 
nondescript wooden chairs. It seemed as if the place had 
something for everybody, but on the same token could be 
whatever a person wanted whenever it wanted. The most striking 
thing, though, was that I was the only man in the place.
     
     Before it fully registered where I was, I heard the pleasant 
voice of the bartender yell that the Boss Lady was in the house. 
From every different section of the bar, I heard women yelling 
hello Melissa using names like Missy, Skippy, and Hotshot. It was 
apparent that my former lover came here often. It also seemed 
like she was well liked and respected.
     
     As I tried to process everything that I had just learned, 
Melissa teased me that it looked like I had never been in a lesbian 
bar before. In reality I had not been, but instead of saying so I 
just chuckled and said that it was unexpected.
     
     The menu was nothing like that at the places we had eaten 
years before. Rather, it was a combination of bar food and 
slightly healthier comfort food. It was definitely the type of place 
a person would come to relax and just be around people. There 
was nothing pretentious about it. People even felt comfortable 
coming by in interrupting our conversation as we ate burgers 
smothered with pickles, bacon, and cheese. A few even joked 
that they would "go straight" for a guy that looked like me too.
     
     Though we talked over dinner, we did not get to the 
personal stuff until we were drinking and after dinner beer. As I 
told Melissa about what it happened in my life up to that point, 
she listened intently. When I told her about my wife passing 
away, it seemed as if she could empathize more than other 
people. It struck me that she might know loss in the way I did.
     
     When was my dinner partner's turn to tell me about her life, 
it became clear why her reactions was so different. The woman 
who had gotten the job that I wanted, had been named Virginia, 
though, Melissa subsequently referred to her as Ginny. They had 
never met before the job interview, but apparently there had 
been an immediate connection. That is what got the woman the 
job, though my ex-lover admitted that I was a much better 
candidate. They had kept it very quiet, but from the day Ginny 
started the job, they began a relationship.
     
     Melissa said that before that, she had never considered 
dating a woman. In fact, she had seen relationships as a 
distraction and sex as a tool to get what she wanted. She did not 
enjoy anything she did with the more powerful men at the 
company. She could not even make eye contact, when she told 
me that the part of our affair she enjoyed the most was the fact 
that she had power over me. I could tell that she was truly hurt, 
though I could not tell whether it was specifically because of how 
she treated me. In case it was, I reached across the table, placed 
my hand on top of hers, and told her that her mistake eventually 
led me to the best part of my life.
     
     Melissa smiled gratefully and continued her story. 
Eventually, Ginny left the company, so that they could be more 
serious about the relationship. Though they could not get married 
at that time, they lived together like a married couple. They even 
talked about raising children together. Then, after about five 
years together, tragedy struck. Just as they were planning a trip 
to Vermont for a civil union, Ginny had started to feel sick. By the 
time they got back two weeks later, she was very weak and had 
trouble eating. It turned out to be early-onset breast cancer. 
Particularly aggressive, it had already metastasized. Ginny held 
on for about a year, but a week after Melissa had been put in 
charge of the Denver operations, the woman that she loved more 
than anything else died in her arms.
     
     We sat in silence for a little while absorbing how similar our 
lives had turned out. We had both found love that we thought 
would last forever, but it had been torn from us. Could it have 
been the fates punishing us for the bad things we had done, 
giving us each somebody who made us happy, but then poison 
them with cancer the way we had poisoned other people's lives? 
Or was it simply the way life happens that while we are given 
things, things are also taken away, though randomly so? There 
was no need for Melissa to continue her story. I could easily fill in 
the blanks of why her life had changed.
     
     Melissa insisted on paying the bill, though, we both knew 
that at this point I was far wealthier than she was. Letting her do 
so was a way that I could show her that all was forgiven and that 
I was willing to be her friend from this point forward. After all, 
since she took me to dinner, I owed her one. Beyond that, I 
expected nothing.
     
     Back on the street, Melissa mentioned that she had a 
townhouse a few blocks away. Taking her elbow in mine, I offered 
to walk her home. As we strolled along and in the early shadows 
of the evening, we laughed and smiled, telling stories about the 
loved ones we have lost. However, in the back of my head, 
something told me that there might be more to the evening. That 
was confirmed when as I was about to hug her good night, she 
pulled me towards her. Then putting one hand behind my head, 
she kissed me deeply. As she led me into the house, she said that 
even though she was a lesbian, she still liked the occasional cock 
inside of her.
     
     In some ways, the sex started off like it did those many 
years ago. We passionately and desperately kissed as our 
clothing fell to the floor. However, instead of making me lick her 
pussy from the start, she dropped to her knees and took my cock 
deep into her mouth. I could not say she was good at it, but she 
gave me a blowjob with the desperation that said she wanted to 
make up for taking advantage of me in the past. Eventually, 
when I said I was about to cum, she pulled back so the only the 
head was in her mouth. As I shot my load, she swallowed every 
drop. 
     
     When she had finished, she stood up and kissed me on the 
cheek, and then whispered in my ear that she liked me to go 
down on her. Happy that she did not just tell me to do it, like she 
had when we were lovers, I was more than happy to oblige. 
Immediately, I got to my knees and spreading her legs a little bit 
of part started looking for clit. Her pussy was hairy now in much 
the stereotypical lesbian style. It was a little scratchy on my face, 
but also reminded me of when I was young in a day when natural 
was the norm. Soon enough, my chin was dripping with Melissa's 
wetness, as she held my head to her pussy while she rocked her 
hips and orgasmed.
     
     Though at our ages we should probably have both been 
spent, we could both tell the other was up for a second round. So 
it seemed natural that Melissa led me to a guest room on the 
second floor. Though some men may have been upset that they 
were not invited to her bedroom, I knew that going there would 
have been too hard for my old lover. That was the room she 
shared with the woman she loved, their special place, and if she 
ever let anybody in there again, it would be somebody with whom 
she was willing to be that intimate again.
     
     As soon as we were inside, Melissa closed the door. Perhaps 
it was the old habit of discretion, or maybe it was so that the 
imagined ghost of her ex-wife did not see us. No matter the 
reason, we stood in the near darkness, the only the light from a 
street light shining through the window. Even though I could 
barely see, I could tell that she had aged well. Her breasts did not 
sag as many older women instead, and her skin was still tight 
around her waist. In a way, the darkness made her look better 
than she did during my brief life in Denver.
     
     While I watched, Melissa walked to the bed and lay down. 
Her manner was not flirtatious or seductive. Instead, the way she 
moved was a matter-of-fact way of saying that she was ready. I 
waited until she had settled in, and then joined her.
     
     Although we did kiss when I first lay between her legs, we 
both knew that the time for foreplay had passed. Instead, we 
stared into each other's eyes as I gently slid inside of her. Though 
earlier she had said that she still enjoy the occasional cock, I 
could tell it was not often. All of the other women I had been with 
on this trip seemed to have an instinctual ability to move their 
bodies to maximize the pleasure for both of us, but Melissa 
seemed to have lost her knowledge of how to have sex with a 
man. She kept trying to adjust herself to make things feel the 
way she thought they should, but never quite got it right. When 
she tried to react to my body, she ended up overcompensating. 
In a way, we were more like awkward teenagers than sexually 
experienced adults.
     
     It was not bad sex by any stretch of the imagination, 
though. It was lighthearted and playful, and several times we had 
to stop because we were laughing too hard. In truth, that was 
probably for the best because it reminded us of where we were at 
the moment. Our affair had been a dark spot in each of our lives 
to which memories could have taken us back. But having 
constant breaks prevented our minds from wandering to places to 
which they should not go. Eventually, we were able to get things 
just right enough for me to cum inside of her while she rubbed 
her clit to another orgasm.
     
     Though Melissa asked me to stay, I politely declined her 
offer. I felt that the night had been a beautiful thing, and did not 
want to run the risk of changing that. What I thought might be a 
thoroughly unpleasant visit, had led to what I thought might 
develop into a warm friendship. I would rather leave and sleep 
alone, then run the risk of something going wrong. Melissa must 
have realized this, because she did not push, but rather called car 
service to take me back to the club. She did insist that we 
exchanged phone numbers before I left.
     
     A little while later, I sat in my room happier than I had been 
on the entire trip. Like I had with the other women I had seen on 
the trip, I tried to think of something I could do to help the things 
they cared about. Unfortunately, with the exception of losing the 
person she loved, Melissa seemed to have everything in her life 
together. Finally, I decided that I would simply find out what the 
childcare center needed.
     
     With that decided, I settled into bed. My next stop was in 
California, the place where I had stayed for the longest time 
between leaving college and meeting my wife. It would be a hard 
visit because I would have to confront the biggest unanswered 
question of my life, and I did not know if I would be prepared for 
it. However, I had two days' worth of driving to get into the right 
mental state.