keep her voice steady. “That’s all for the Dearborn store. You said you wanted to keep the two places separate.”
“Well, you could organize it, couldn’t you? At least do something. Put it all in one place, but don’t let this happen!” He sounded so frantic that it was hard to be mad at him.
“Albert!” She touched his cheek, aroused as always by the late day stubble. For such a slight, fair-skinned man, he had a heavy beard. “What’s wrong? Listen to you. You’re a wreck.”
He sighed and hung his head.
“Al! Honey, what is it? Come on, tell me.” She put her arms around him, pleased when he didn’t resist. “Come on, tell Doe-doe what’s wrong. You’re tired, aren’t you. Well, you just follow me in your car and I’ll have you fed and happy in no time,” she whispered, kissing his ear and sighing when he shivered against her.
“I can’t.” He pulled away. “Cheryl’s invited some people out to dinner.” He hurried into the front of the store. He opened the copy-room door, still looking for the jacket.
“You’re going out? Why didn’t you tell me? You said you’d call. I haven’t seen you in so long. I’ve just missed you so much.”
“I’m sorry, Delores. It just feels like everything’s coming down on me all at once, that’s all. I mean, here it is my one night to relax, but what does Cheryl care? I mean, after all, who am I?”
“Oh, Al.” She hugged him again.
He pulled away, almost pushing her back. “Not out here! What are you thinking? What if someone should come in?” He spoke out of the side of his mouth, his back rigid to the plate glass as if to a watching throng.
“It’s after six. I’ll lock the door.”
“And then what?” he said with such indignant, widening eyes that she thought he was joking.
“Well, I don’t know,” she said, watching him. The first move had always been his to make. She had blundered horribly. “I . . . I just thought.”
“You just thought what? That all of a sudden I’m going to throw propriety and good judgment right out the window? Right out there on the street for all the world to see?”
Humiliated by his disdain, she closed her eyes.
“Come on, Delores. Get a grip. Please! Will you, please?”
She shook her head, held up her hand. She was fine. It was all right. Really.
“Look,” he said, hurrying to lock the door and turn out the lights. “It’s like I just said. I can only do so much. You know what my parameters are.” He went into his office, and she knew she had won. She followed quietly and unrolled the foam mat on the floor behind his desk, then took off her panty hose. He drew the bolt across the door and turned off the lights, talking while he undressed. “Instead of things getting easier, I have more pressure in my life right now than I’ve ever had. Ever! And I don’t see any end in sight. Not with the way things are going now, anyway,” he grunted as he lay down.
“I’ve missed you,” she whispered, climbing onto him.
“I know you have.” He sighed with an impatient squirm, his signal for her to begin.
“I just get so lonesome lately.” She sat perfectly still.
“I know. I know you do. And I try. I do try. You know I do,” he pleaded with an anxious groan. With its urgency came displacement, a strange distance, as if this ache had little to do with her head.
“We never spend any time together.” The power was hers. She smiled through the darkness.
“But we are now . . . so let’s not waste a minute of it,” he gasped as she began.
“Talk to me, Albert. Please.” She leaned forward.
“Don’t, don’t stop.”
“Then talk to me. You know I like you to talk to me.”
“Yes. Yes, I know. And that feels good,” he whimpered, then moaned as she moved again. “That feels so good. You don’t know how good it feels. Nobody makes me feel like this.”
It was a technique from one of the manuals Albert had given her. She had a box full of them in a closet at home. She
“Well, you could organize it, couldn’t you? At least do something. Put it all in one place, but don’t let this happen!” He sounded so frantic that it was hard to be mad at him.
“Albert!” She touched his cheek, aroused as always by the late day stubble. For such a slight, fair-skinned man, he had a heavy beard. “What’s wrong? Listen to you. You’re a wreck.”
He sighed and hung his head.
“Al! Honey, what is it? Come on, tell me.” She put her arms around him, pleased when he didn’t resist. “Come on, tell Doe-doe what’s wrong. You’re tired, aren’t you. Well, you just follow me in your car and I’ll have you fed and happy in no time,” she whispered, kissing his ear and sighing when he shivered against her.
“I can’t.” He pulled away. “Cheryl’s invited some people out to dinner.” He hurried into the front of the store. He opened the copy-room door, still looking for the jacket.
“You’re going out? Why didn’t you tell me? You said you’d call. I haven’t seen you in so long. I’ve just missed you so much.”
“I’m sorry, Delores. It just feels like everything’s coming down on me all at once, that’s all. I mean, here it is my one night to relax, but what does Cheryl care? I mean, after all, who am I?”
“Oh, Al.” She hugged him again.
He pulled away, almost pushing her back. “Not out here! What are you thinking? What if someone should come in?” He spoke out of the side of his mouth, his back rigid to the plate glass as if to a watching throng.
“It’s after six. I’ll lock the door.”
“And then what?” he said with such indignant, widening eyes that she thought he was joking.
“Well, I don’t know,” she said, watching him. The first move had always been his to make. She had blundered horribly. “I . . . I just thought.”
“You just thought what? That all of a sudden I’m going to throw propriety and good judgment right out the window? Right out there on the street for all the world to see?”
Humiliated by his disdain, she closed her eyes.
“Come on, Delores. Get a grip. Please! Will you, please?”
She shook her head, held up her hand. She was fine. It was all right. Really.
“Look,” he said, hurrying to lock the door and turn out the lights. “It’s like I just said. I can only do so much. You know what my parameters are.” He went into his office, and she knew she had won. She followed quietly and unrolled the foam mat on the floor behind his desk, then took off her panty hose. He drew the bolt across the door and turned off the lights, talking while he undressed. “Instead of things getting easier, I have more pressure in my life right now than I’ve ever had. Ever! And I don’t see any end in sight. Not with the way things are going now, anyway,” he grunted as he lay down.
“I’ve missed you,” she whispered, climbing onto him.
“I know you have.” He sighed with an impatient squirm, his signal for her to begin.
“I just get so lonesome lately.” She sat perfectly still.
“I know. I know you do. And I try. I do try. You know I do,” he pleaded with an anxious groan. With its urgency came displacement, a strange distance, as if this ache had little to do with her head.
“We never spend any time together.” The power was hers. She smiled through the darkness.
“But we are now . . . so let’s not waste a minute of it,” he gasped as she began.
“Talk to me, Albert. Please.” She leaned forward.
“Don’t, don’t stop.”
“Then talk to me. You know I like you to talk to me.”
“Yes. Yes, I know. And that feels good,” he whimpered, then moaned as she moved again. “That feels so good. You don’t know how good it feels. Nobody makes me feel like this.”
It was a technique from one of the manuals Albert had given her. She had a box full of them in a closet at home. She
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