Chapter 2 A Submissive Female Of New York City

                                Chapter 2
A Submissive Female Of New York City

1988 it was. Spring.

You're always reading! said Pauline.

Phil found this a little annoying. Of course, he was always reading. What else were the breaks between classes for?

Pauline, a plain but slim blonde girl, tried to make conversation with him in almost every Grade 9 class they were both in. He never understood why. She also seemed to smile and giggle a lot.

This only went on a few weeks. Phil didn't even notice when she stopped talking to him. He did see her holding hands with her boyfriend in the halls. Idly, he wondered how teenage couples got together. Where did it start?

1994 it was. Winter.

"Well, this is my stop," said Phil.

"See you next week," said Roo’s. She was a pretty Dutch girl, slender as a rail, with long curly reddish-brown hair. She took the same bus home as Phil on Friday nights. They'd sit opposite the aisle from each other, comparing notes on school. She majored in psychology, he in computer science.

Phil quite liked Roo’s. He had a warm feeling in his stomach each week after talking to her. He knew little about her other than academic interests, but still, it was pleasant to have someone to look forward to. He'd never been friends with a girl before.

He wished he could see Roo’s more often, but she only took that bus on Fridays. Oh well, he thought, better than nothing.

He had to miss that bus the last day of the semester, staying late to finish an assignment. He never saw Roo’s again.

It was a small café. Phil sat down unobtrusively near the entrance, scanning the room. There was a hot blonde in a corner. Could that be Sue? He gazed at her furtively, then dropped his eyes. Be honest. The real Sue is almost certainly a middle-aged overweight woman. Well, nothing wrong with that.

The minutes ticked by. Where was she? Was she going to stand him up, as so many had done before? He stared at the menu, but the choice of burgers hardly seemed the most pressing issue facing him. Still, he had to be back at the office by one.

He signaled the waitress. "I'll have a bacon double cheeseburger with fries."

"Okay," she said, scribbling in her pad. "And for the lady?"

"What—"

"I'll have a chicken salad," said the hot blonde helpfully. Phil had not even noticed her sitting there. She was looking at him with an impish smile.

"Sorry, I was waiting for someone—"

"—and you have found her."

Phil stared as the waitress headed off.

"Sue? You're Sue?"

"Are you surprised?"

"But you were here when I came in. Why didn't you—"

"Did it ever occur to you that I might be nervous? It's not every day you meet someone who masturbates to thoughts of you drinking their piss."

Phil blanched.

"But then," she went on, "I could see that you're even more nervous than I am. You didn't seem to notice me staring at you."

"You were staring?"

"I think this might be why you've never had a girlfriend. You'd never notice if a woman was interested in you."

"I'm pretty sure that none ever have been."

Sue didn't buy it. "Do you have any idea how sexy you are?"

"No. As far as I'm concerned, I'm a hideously ugly, socially retarded, uninteresting, boring—"

"Stop it!" she said sharply.

"I don't look like — well, like you."

She dimpled. "You think I'm sexy?"

Sue was slender and fair, with long straight blonde hair. She had the beginnings of wrinkles, and her breasts lacked the perkiness of a younger woman's, but she was still a beautiful woman. Perhaps not quite the standard of Heather Locklear, but better looking than many prostitutes Phil had hired. She was dressed conservatively, in a black and white striped blouse and black pencil skirt.

"You're definitely way sexier than that photo you sent me," he said, truthfully.

"If you're trying to get me into bed with compliments, it's working," she said slyly.

Phil felt scared. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to—"

"Don't apologize. You can say nice things about what I look like any time you want."

Phil had to close his eyes and take deep breaths to continue.

"Thank you for being so patient with me—"

"My looks," she said, impatiently.

"You're beautiful. Your face is just so, I don't know, so appealing. You're thin and I can see your curves." He let his eyes flit downward briefly. "Your waist is tiny. And your...your..."

"My tits?"

"Your breasts look really nice."

She chuckled. "That will do for a start. Now will you listen to some for you?

"Me?"

"Yes, you. I think you have the most wonderful dark brown eyes. You're as cute as hell, especially when you're nervous. And you look really professional, even distinguished."

That last one had a ring of truth to it, as Phil had often heard similar things from recruiters.

"Why don't you tell me what you're doing here, in New York?" she asked.

Phil's body relaxed at familiar turf. Soon he was happily chirping away about the tech projects he was working on. Sue never lost patience, listening intently. It turned out she also worked in software, as an engineering manager. Just as Phil had moved to Silicon Valley to seek his fortune, she had left her Texas hometown to pursue a career on Wall Street.

"It's amazing that you're an engineer. You see so few women in the field."

"And so many men," said Sue dreamily.

To be continued