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From: Marianne Writes <marianne_writes@yahoo.com>
X-ASSTR-Original-Date: Sun, 23 Mar 2003 08:34:23 -0800 (PST)
Subject: {ASSM} Marianne (MF, interr, sex at work, rom, sad, series)
Date: Sun, 23 Mar 2003 17:10:03 -0500
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Marianne: Chapter 1
It all started about 10 years ago, when I interned at one of the
largest PR firms in New York City. My name's Marianne, and at the
time, I was 22 years old, bright eyed, eager about my future, and
more than a little excited about my plum position in the trenches
at this great firm. I still remember that first interview after
all these years; when I met David. That interview still stands as
one of the oddest moments in my life. There was something about
David that I couldn't put my finger on, but through the entire
interview, I could barely move my eyes from his... there was just
a strange connection that to this day I swear I felt, and it was
the strangest thing... so familiar, like I'd known him before. Of
course, some of this might have had to do with the physical
attraction I felt for him also. His piercing, sex-filled eyes
burning back into mine did nothing to deter the innate draw that
he seemed to hold for me. When I left, with assurances that the
internship was mine, I tried my best to shake that odd feeling
that I'd had, and managed to, for the most part-until I started
the internship 2 weeks later.

I showed up for the first day as eager as ever to start learning
about what I hoped at the time would be my future career, not to
mention excited about seeing David again; I was especially
curious to see if he'd have the same effect on me as before. It
didn't take long to learn the answer to that question. As I
turned a corner on my way to the company lounge to get my morning
cup of coffee, I saw him step off the elevator, and my heart
leaped into my throat. What was it about him?! I'd never felt so
strongly about anyone in my life, particularly someone that I
didn't know the least about... on the one hand, I felt like I was
being irrational; on the other, I was realizing that I felt what
I felt, and couldn't deny it. Maybe I'd experienced the
phenomenon of "love at first sight."

He showed me around that day, and I was impressed by how thorough
he was in showing me daily minutiae-not to mention sweet and
patient when it took me a while to catch on. He introduced me to
my coworkers; I would be spending a lot of time with Pete in
particular, who was a real asswipe when it came to me, with his
sexist/racist comments, but it didn't seem appropriate to bring
that up to David at the time... or ever. But I took solace in the
hope that someday a jerk like him would be the equivalent of gum
on the bottom of my shoe-and besides, I got to work with a cutie
like David.

We worked together for almost 3 months over the summer, until the
Fall semester started and I had to start grad school uptown.
During that time, I still never learned much about him except the
usual, regarding his age, upbringing, family, education, that
sort of thing. I did pick up on his loneliness in some of his
comments around the office, never directly to me, so I was fairly
certain that he'd been disappointed in love somewhere along the
line and wasn't involved, but we never talked about our personal
lives aside from the casual. It might seem odd that despite our
long hours working together, that that was all I really learned
about him, and perhaps it is; but despite that, I still was never
able to shake that feeling of being "close" to him. There was an
obvious sexual tension any time we were together, and I felt that
we were both making it clear that we liked and wanted to be
around the other. It kept building all summer long until all of
my masturbatory fantasies starred the lonesome and mysterious
David. I would wake up in the middle of the night, in a sheen of
sweat, disappointed that he wasn't really there, twisting my
nipples furiously while growling his arousal into my ear.

By this point, I realized that no matter how much he was
attracted to me, he wasn't going to compromise his promising
career by asking out a summer intern over 10 years his junior; so
I decided that I'd have to be the one to make the first move.
About a week after I'd left the internship, I was still living in
New York, and I decided to drop by his office that night, knowing
he'd be working late as usual. To say he was surprised to see me
would be an understatement. When I saw the happiness in his eyes,
I was relieved beyond belief... despite the way we'd flirted
during my time there, I was very aware of the differences in our
ages (17 years), backgrounds, financial status, etc., and always
had the fear of rejection at the back of my mind. We hung around
his office a little bit, making small talk before he suggested a
neighborhood bar where the interns and a few of the company execs
frequent. For a few hours that night, David and I probably had
the longest, most interesting, least hormone-driven conversation
we'd ever had and would ever have again. We talked about nothing
in particular, flirting and drinking all the while, and to put it
shortly, by the end of the night I knew that I wanted to feel his
lips on my lips, his firm muscular chest against mine, his strong
arms pinning me down to his bed, big strong hands running up and
down along my smooth thighs, his hoarse, lusty moans in my
ears... and his thick cock sliding in and out of me hard and
fast, in wanton desire as I writhed under him, moaning his name.

As he paid the tab, I offered to walk him back to his place,
which was on my way to the subway... Once there, we got into a
lip lock that I hoped would induce any red-blooded male to invite
me up for a nightcap... and he did! Riding the elevator up the 20
floors to his apartment was the longest minute of my life. As I
felt the wetness seeping through my panties, I had to stop myself
from rubbing my thighs together in anticipation of what I hoped
was coming. It was kind of weird once we got up there, though. He
insisted on giving me the full tour, which was nice, but I had no
interest in it-I wanted him to take me hungrily right then and
there. But I was patient... After about 15 minutes of small talk
sans flirting, I figured that he was either gay and I'd been
totally misreading his signals for the past few months, or he was
nervous about making a move. In case it was the former, I let
myself down mentally and prepared to leave, telling him that I
really liked his place. As I picked up my clutch from the coffee
table and walked towards the room's door, I felt him come up
behind me. His arms wrapped around me, as they had in several of
my tamer fantasies, and he took my clutch, tossing it back on the
table... ahhh-so he WAS just a little nervous, I sighed inwardly,
in relief. He turned me around to face him and pressed against
me, allowing me to feel his hardness through his pants. Our lips
met in the sweetest kiss I'd had in years. Feeling his soft,
sweet lips press against mine felt so right, and fueled the fire
that had been growing in me since I'd met him. His hardness
pressing against my stomach, the feel of his lips, the safe, warm
way I felt in his arms was so familiar... I felt lost in his
arms, and I let myself go in a way that I never had with anyone
else. To this day, I still don't know what it was about him, but
everything just felt so good, and like it shouldn't have been any
other way than the way it was that night. As our kiss grew more
intense, he ground his manhood more heatedly against my torso,
making me ache to touch it. I began to rub him through his pants,
loving the moans and raggedness of his breath in my ear, exactly
the way I'd imagined it to be. He hungrily rubbed my crotch and
my ass through my pants... I could hardly stand it, and knew I
was moving way too fast, but I wanted to feel this man, who'd
aroused feelings and thoughts in me like no one else had, I
wanted to feel his hands and his lips roaming all over my needing
flesh, wanted to feel his hard, toned body against mine. I
hurriedly ripped off my shirt and bra, dying to finally see and
feel those soft lips that I'd daydreamed about since meeting him
suck and kiss my turgid nipples and aching breasts. He latched on
to a nipple, and sucked and lapped at me in such a way, that I
swear the wetness in my panties increased three-fold. I was so
aroused... I had to touch his cock, hold it, taste it, let him
fill me with it over and over. I grappled with his belt and
trousers, and when they fell to his knees, my mouth watered at
the tent in his boxers... I dove my hand into the material, and
felt his hot, hard cock, pulsing and venous; he moaned into my
mouth, and started pumping his hips slowly back and forth into
the tight grip of my hand. The heat in his shorts was tremendous,
so I pulled them down a little, also wanting to feel his firm
cock against the skin of my torso. Both of us aching to be one,
he began unbuttoning my slacks, and once he got them off, wasted
no time rubbing my ass, which were exposed by my thong, and
running his fingers back and forth across my slit, feeling the
wetness that he alone had caused. After fantasizing about him for
so long, I felt like things couldn't move fast enough, which was
pretty atypical for my style. Tonight, I wanted this man that I
hungered for to fuck me the way that I knew he could. With
unrestrained, primal, wanton passion. I could see the challenge
and the base sex in his eyes the first time we met, and now I
wanted him to prove it to me with every fiber of my being, to
fuck me long and hard, to make me scream his name while I came
hard, bucking and writhing, pierced by his thick cock, or moaning
and rolling my hips as I came into his sexy mouth. He lifted me
effortlessly towards the bed and laid me down across it. The lust
in his eyes would've frightened me had I not felt exactly the
same way at the moment. His firm hands spread my legs, and before
I could even take a breath, his hard cock was piercing through my
soft folds mercilessly, as he fucked me with relish and force. He
slid out almost the entire way, then slid back in, hard, making
me gasp his name as he sucked my earlobe, pounding into me again
and again. His sweet lips latched on to my sensitive nipples
again, laving each one with pleasure, while he slid in and out,
making me hotter and hotter with each firm stroke. I couldn't
believe that I was finally fucking this virile fantasy of mine,
and that he was everything I'd imagined. He kept a steady pace,
fucking my tight hole harder and harder as he came closer to
exploding in me; and when he finally did, his thick cock
twitching madly and pulsing as it let loose it's sweet nectar
into my needy cunt, I came also, calling his name and grasping
the sheets as I had so many times in my David fantasies.

After our climax, we laid there for a while, touching silently. I
would be lying if I said that thoughts of rejection didn't again
cross my mind. The fact was, we were very different, and though I
knew I could deal with it and what it would bring, I also knew
that as a red-blooded male in the corporate world, he had an
image to keep that didn't include a 22-year-old Latina from the
inner city, no matter how much he was attracted to me... to be
honest, with a situation like ours, I didn't even want to
embarrass myself by suggesting a relationship to him-I wasn't
clueless. As we each lay there with our separate thoughts, the
shrill ring of the phone interrupted. He walked out to the living
room to pick it up, and alone once again with my thoughts,
realizing that I'd crossed the safe fantasy line into a reality
that I knew would end up hurting me, I decided to get dressed and
leave. Besides, I had to pack anyway to move to my new place near
campus. I left my phone number with David, knowing I'd probably
never hear from him again, but hoping against hope that my
initial gut feeling when I first met him was right, and that he
was different from the typical corporate white male I'd
pigeonholed him as post-coitus.

*************

I woke early the next morning, feeling slightly more positive
about the night before, and later in the day, decided to call
David and tell him what a great night I'd had with him. He
sounded a lot more brusque than usual, and although he said he'd
has a good time also, he seemed in a rush to get off the phone,
so I took it for what it is was, and left it at that. I thought
maybe he'd call if he was in a better mood, but didn't count on
it; I'd heard enough from friends about guys like him, and knew
better than to get too excited.

*********

It was about two weeks later. I'd finally finished moving into my
new place, and was settling in as a grad student. I wasn't seeing
anyone, and after my last serious relationship, which ended about
2 months before the internship, added to my experience with
David, I wasn't too interested in getting involved with anyone,
and I was feeling really good about being alone. One night after
a long day of classes, and of course, a long two weeks without
any sort of sexual release, I logged on to my favorite erotica
site to read a little and get off before going to bed. Sex at
work being my favorite category at the time, I started there and
browsed through the stories that were posted since the last time
I'd logged on a few months ago. There was a recently posted one,
with a lead character by the name of David. Intrigued at finding
a sex at work story centering on a character with the name of my
recent crush, I decided to read and see how much this fare
compared with my own fantasies of David from a few weeks ago. It
was well written, and from the female perspective. A very
detailed, engaging story about a young woman working in a small
office with a guy named Dave, who loved it when she called him
David; the awkward flirtations between the two, and how right it
felt when they finally got together, but the doubts that each
felt after their heated tryst at the obstacles they would face if
they tried to be together. As I read on, it occurred to me that
except that I hadn't, this story could very well have been
written by me! The writer's words, emotions and feelings toward
this "David" were all mine! Down to how "right" and comfortable
it felt being around each other. I couldn't believe it! It was
just too damn weird. I racked my brain, trying to think back
about whom I could've possibly told such intimate details about
that night to, or my emotions surrounding it, and the answer was
absolutely no one. The only two people who could've written that
story were David, or I-- and I knew for sure that it wasn't me. I
sat at my computer, staring at the story for about 20 minutes
after reading it, trying to think things through and be rational.
I asked myself what the odds were that it wasn't him... that it
was a complete coincidence that someone wrote a story directly
paralleling what had happened between David and me a mere two
weeks ago. The odds seemed pretty low on that. There were
details, interactions between us, things that were just too close
to home to not have been written by him. And on the one in a
million chance that it wasn't him, then who was this person whose
story so directly paralleled my life? It was at that point that I
decided to do something that would end up forever changing my
life. For years, I had read erotica on the net intermittently as
a passive observer, never voting, mailing the authors, or even
writing my own work. But this night, I sat there and I composed a
message to the author of this story. If it was David, and he
wrote what he honestly felt, and his emotions paralleled mine so
completely, how could this be wrong? Given the strong way I felt
about him before he did a complete 180 after sex and brushed me
off, and given the fact that out of all of the erotica websites
that he could post a story on that it had been posted on the only
site I'd ever read from-- that we both somehow ended up crossing
paths on the same one... if it was really him, wouldn't that have
to mean something? And if it wasn't him, then I could find out
about this person whose story paralleled my life in such detail,
and that would be that. So I went for it, composing a rather (I
think) polite letter about the story, then went to bed, a million
thoughts about who David really was, how little I actually knew
him despite the intensely close feelings I'd felt for him since
day one, and wondering if my initial feelings towards him, and
that uncanny affection I secretly felt for him, were of any
significance after all.

I woke up the next morning, and checked my email right away. Of
course there was nothing, and I was somewhat disappointed. But I
put myself in his shoes (if it was indeed, David who'd written
the story) and suddenly felt like an idiot for sending the
email... if I were in his shoes, and had written a story about
him like that, and he'd found it and emailed me, I would've been
so humiliated that I wouldn't be able to put words to it. How
could I have been so stupid as to write to him about it? Maybe I
should've written story in response? But I had no experience
writing erotica, I couldn't have possibly done a good enough job
to turn him on and let him know that I'd read it, and how aroused
it had made me. Should I have asked him out again, playing it
cool, and then bringing it up later that I like to read erotica?
Surely I could've done something smarter and less confrontational
than an email... what an idiot I was, I thought to myself. I
waited an entire week and still got no response. At this point, I
realized that I had to ask someone for advice here. I felt like
maybe I'd exercised bad judgment in even thinking that he'd
written the story... Maybe I'd gone off the deep end with my
initial idea, and I needed a good friend's honest opinion on my
sanity. With that, I paid my best friend and ex-boyfriend Marc a
visit. He'd already known about what I'd felt for David since day
one, and encouraged me when I asked him on the first date, and
then stroked my ego when he never called me back afterwards. He
also knew most of the intimate details of that night (I know what
you're thinking, but no; several of the details in the story, I'd
omitted in my retelling... best friend or not, some details cross
the border into "too much information" territory) so I sat him
down and admitted to him that yes, puritan me, who'd only lost my
virginity a year before and was so ladylike on the exterior was a
closet erotica fan... he even pored over the story with me and
assured me that I wasn't insane, that it certainly seemed likely
that the story was indeed written by David. He told me that the
email was a bad idea, and that maybe I should just call him...
clearly if he's writing things about me that mirror my exact
feelings, not to mention that we're both clearly highly sexual
and into erotica, that we could surely find some way to be
together, whether just as friends, lovers, or maybe even just
fellow erotica fans. There just seemed to be no reason to hide,
especially considering how much I genuinely liked him in the
first place... the idea that he was some sexy, secret erotica
writer just made him seem that much more special to me. I waited
a couple more days, and when I thought to myself that if I don't
call this guy soon, there's a possibility that I might never
again speak to the intelligent, lovable, sexy, and (talk about
icing on the cake) secretly erotic sex writer who I hadn't been
able to get off my mind since the very first day, there was no
stopping my fingers from dialing. Truth be told, at this time, I
was far from in love with David; but the feelings he aroused in
me, not to mention the other part he aroused... I just felt like
I couldn't ignore this, especially now with this new amazing
facet of him that I'd possibly discovered. It just made him seem
so much more human to me, and if I felt drawn to his soul before,
I was doubly so now. Unfortunately he didn't share my enthused
outlook. If I didn't think it was David that had written the
story before, I knew it after that phone call. His voice was ice,
and he made it quite clear that he didn't want to speak with me
or see me again. I tried to be my usual bubbly self, but he
didn't even pretend to make small talk this time; he shut me down
in less than 1 minute, saying that he couldn't talk, and before I
knew it the line was dead. I was upset, to be honest, and Marc
again consoled me, trying to get me to see David's point of view.
How humiliated he must've been, and angry that I'd found this
secret side of him... perhaps worried that I'd use it against him
as sexual harassment, or blackmail of some sort. To top it off,
all I could think about was that he probably was wondering what
kind of terrible, promiscuous person I was. Here I was, his
intern for the summer, and not only had I asked him out, but also
slept with him on the first date, then to top it off, I also read
Internet porn? He probably now thought I was some easy sleaze. To
be honest, I hadn't expected much after that night with him; I
know what the world is like. But when I saw that story, and his
feelings or at least what he wrote seemed to match so closely to
what I'd been feeling for him since day one, and it seemed to me
that he'd felt the same... I can't even describe how buoyant that
thought made me feel. The closeness I'd felt for him suddenly
made a little more sense... I thought maybe we were alike, maybe
he was different from the typical guy I'd cast him off as, and he
could see past my age and background to the mature, caring,
wholesome person I was. I know I was being naïve, in retrospect,
but that's honestly how I felt at the time. And when he brushed
me off a second time, even more coldly than the first, added to
what I thought he now assumed about the type of "sleazy" person I
was, I can't even describe how much that hurt me... like I hadn't
even been given a chance to explain my part of it. And I guess
what bothered me most at the time was the avoidance of it;
Nothing soothes my mind more than a complete clearing of the air.
I hate secrets, lies, and dishonesty... The only time things are
clear is when they're in the open, and people are
straightforward. It burned a hole in me to not be able to talk
with him about this. But on the other hand, I could wholly
understand why bringing this out into the open would make him
uncomfortable... but it still ate at me, and to be honest it
still does, because I know that if things had been addressed and
cleared up then, that I could've avoided years of heartache and
confusion after that moment.



---------------------------------
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