Not like this. Not being tied up and uncertain of his intentions. My arms and shoulders started to get sore and I didn’t want to put my feet together in fear that he would come back in at any moment and see that I wasn’t following his directions. Why did that matter to me? I had no idea. I was just confused by his behavior and had no idea what he had in mind or what his expectations were of me. All I could do was stand there and wonder and wait. I heard him walking around upstairs. I was sure he would be on his way down, but no. The sounds from upstairs went silent again. I heard him turn on some music – Stan Getz – and then nothing again. Really, was this the time to sit back and listen to music while I stood totally immobile with my muscles sore, achy and starting to burn? I had no frame of time when I finally heard his steps come back down the stairs. Was it 10, 15 minutes? A half-hour? When he came back in the room he looked normal – pleasant, in fact. Not serious like he was. Each word of her response had to be carefully crafted and weighed to assure she wasn’t misunderstood or taken through another round of “she said, she said” by the bitch. It amazed her how the woman had ever convinced anyone that she was competent enough to hold her position but now for good or ill it was her responsibility to bear the pain as so her boss was spared. When 5 o’clock came the hour startled her arriving so quickly. She had avoided any more explosions and felt that she had crafted the afternoon as only she could making life better for everyone else but still feeling the tension rise. She realized that in a few minutes she would be with him but even now was unsure of what to expect. Her lover of many years was an enigma in many ways, sometimes gentle and giving, sometimes harsh and almost brutal in his lovemaking. She considered picking up the phone and canceling but knew that whatever the result she wanted to feel his touch. She pressed the buttons of her.
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