Taking Charge Ch. 01

"Special K!" I answered. "How are you?"

We spent a pleasant ten minutes catching up before she paused at the end of a story. I could hear her drawing a breath before she spoke again and the tension in her voice when she resumed. "I didn't just call to catch up. I wanted to talk to you. I, um, I made a lot of changes to my life after freshman year. My grades are really good now and I'm doing well at things that are important to me. I stopped drinking pretty much completely and I found some better friends than I had."

"That's great," I said. "I'm really happy for you."

"That's not all," she continued. "I stopped doing the coke and stopped hanging around people who did. And... I stopped sleeping around."

She paused and I scrambled for something to say: "Well, I'm pleased for you, Karolina. I'm glad you're in control and doing things you want to do."

She laughed down the phone. "That's so like you! You never judged me, even when I was so high I couldn't think straight, and you were always really nice to me in the morning. You made me feel like, I don't know, like I could be more than I was."

I laughed back. "I was just happy to have such a gorgeous girl in my bed. Besides, you were pretty nice to me, too and I was always glad to see you, high or not."

She seemed more relaxed when she spoke again, although I could hear in her voice that she was leading up to something; something she wanted to say that was making her nervous. "It's kind of taken me a while to sort out the parts of me that I liked and wanted to keep from the parts that I didn't. I don't know if this makes sense but there were parts of me I showed you that were hard for me to decide about. I didn't like the out-of-control me that went to parties and did blow but I kind of did like the me that went looking for you when I was drunk or high."

I smiled at the phone and said, "I liked her too. She was a lot of fun. And I don't think the beers - or anything else - were the reason for that. I always thought they were just what helped you work up the courage."

I could hear that I'd said the right thing. Her voice was happy and excited when she answered: "That's it, that's exactly right! Anyway, that's really why I'm calling. I want to be that girl for you again, if you'll let me."

That, I didn't expect to hear. In the moment it took me to form a thought, Karolina broke back in, blurting, "I know it's completely random me calling like this. You're probably there with your girlfriend right now. I'm not trying to... I don't really know what I'm trying to do. I just wanted to feel like I felt when I was at a party looking for you."

She paused, working up her courage again, I realised, and said, "And I wanted to find out if you'd let me feel the way you did once I found you."

That put the smile back on my face. "There's no girlfriend," I said, smiling. "And that's the best idea I've heard in months. Tell me you're calling from outside my apartment!"

That brought her out in giggles and I could feel the tension in her voice dissolve. "Don't you wish!" she said, snorting, "Don't I wish too! I'm in my dorm and, anyway, I didn't really have a plan for what would happen once I told you. I just wanted to tell you."

"But you'd like to see me. Soon, I hope," I asked.

"Yes. Definitely!" she answered.

"What about this weekend?" I asked.

"Yes. Definitely!" she answered again.

An idea was forming in the back of my mind and I decided to try my luck. If there was one thing Karolina always loved, it was being dared and challenged. She grew more excited, more responsive, the more often she was dared and the more outrageous or demanding the dares became.

"I think we ought to give you a weekend to remember, don't you? A reward for being brave and making the call," I said.

"Mmmm," she answered. "Sounds perfect."

"Have you got a pen and paper handy?" I asked.

"Um, yeah, hang on... Got it."

"Write this down: high heels, long dress, no bra, no panties."

She laughed down the phone, "Oh God, are you serious?"

"I dare you," I answered. "Now write it down."

"All right," she laughed, "I'm writing." I could hear the pause as she took notes.

"That's not really difficult enough, is it?" I asked. "You need more of a challenge than that."

"Oh! Isn't that enough?" she asked, still laughing.

"Definitely not," I answered. "Write down: No orgasms until you get here."

"What?" she cried.

"You heard me," I said. "Four days without coming - without even touching yourself, knowing what your weekend is going to be like. That's what I call difficult."

"Fine!" she said. "I'm writing it down."

I could hear the old Karolina in her voice, the one who wouldn't back down and wouldn't say no. "We're just getting started," I said, pausing to let her suspense build, "Still got your pen?"

"Yes!" she answered, putting a touch of defiance into her voice.

"Good. Write down: shaved pussy," I said.

She gasped, giggling a little, "That's, um. That could be a bit of a problem at the gym. The girls in the locker room will see."

"Your problem, not mine," I answered. "Just tell them your boyfriend likes it. No, tell them you like it for sex. Group sex. With whole NBA teams. Tell them it's your new hobby."

She laughed down the phone, a bit nervously, then asked the question that I think every man deserves to hear at some point in his life: "Is it okay if I have it waxed, instead?"

I smiled, "As long as you have it all waxed off, it's fine."

"Oh God, okay," she answered ruefully.

"One more thing," I said.

"Oh, what else?" she giggled, "It's a good list, I promise you!"

"Make sure someone else sees the list before the weekend," I said.

That brought a long pause. "Um, I don't know. That could be embarrassing..."

"I dare you," I said. Then, realising a bit of encouragement was needed, I asked. "Who's your most adventurous friend? What's her name?"

"Oh, Sarah. Sarah, easily," she said, and I could hear the smile in her voice. "She owns a signed copy of 'The Ethical Slut' and she calls boys a source of protein."

I laughed at that, adding Sarah to my list of people to thank someday. "Show the list to Sarah," I told her. "And, if you like, you can tell her why you're coming to see me; really why, not just that you've got a date for the weekend."

"'Really why,'" she answered, "I'm not sure I want her to know that. Not yet anyway. The list is enough..."

I'd been on enough sales calls to know when a deal had been closed. I gave a moment's thought to the rock-hard state of my cock, contemplating some phone sex with Karolina, but decided enough was a feast. I told her I'd have train tickets waiting for her at the college station, that I'd pick her up on arrival, and made her promise she'd be looking her best for dinner at the city's best restaurant.

"I'm glad you called," was the last thing I told her.

"Mmmm," she purred, "So am I."

Despite looking forward to the porn film, I didn't make it through the opening credits. Imagining Karolina as one of those bedraggled girls, begging for another cock in her ass, sent me right over the edge.

I'd like to say I spent the next four days in blissful anticipation but the world doesn't work that way. Jack had noted that my relationships at the company were improving and decided it was time for me to learn more about negotiations. While I'd sat in on sales calls, I hadn't yet been exposed to the full horror of what Jack called "ping pong with money." Now I had to learn about expectant salesmen, ready to sign anything, no matter how poor a deal, in order to add to their commissions, clients who liked to dicker, clients who liked to window-shop, clients who really didn't have any money but might be worth taking on credit... It was mind-boggling how many things could go wrong in how many ways. And Jack needed me to learn it fast so he could give up the smaller clients and focus his time as chairman on the big fish.

For four days, Jack grilled me mercilessly, offering an endless series of "what ifs" and "what thens", making sure I understood all of the most common tactics our customers would try on and rehearsing me until I could deliver the right responses. I was glad to be learning but, in the back of my mind, the sessions with Jack only reminded me how much I had to learn and, until I learned it, how little control I could really exert over the company I had agreed to run.

On Friday afternoon, I looked up from a pile of client files Jack had given me and realised I had to leave then and there in order to collect Karolina from the train station. I only had time for a quick once-over in the men's room to make sure wasn't covered in smudges and iron filings - a common result from a hard day at a steel company. Checking my reflection, I figured I'd do: sober, dark-grey suit, clean white double-cuff shirt, pale blue tie covered in little red flowers, and black brogues that still had a mirror shine. Jack had suggested that it would help me with clients to start dressing older and more conservatively. My sack-like college suits and loud ties weren't going to instil confidence in anyone. A call to my stylish friend - now working as an assistant art editor in a New York fashion magazine - supplied me with a list of labels and places to buy them. She even told me what to ask the shop's tailor and how to judge whether the alterations looked good or not. Knowing I'd be meeting Karolina, I'd worn my best of everything, right down to the wafer-thin platinum cufflinks that cost as much as an engine rebuild for my car.

I got to the station in time to enjoy a few minutes of frosty November air before the train pulled in. Only a few passengers disembarked, and Karolina was the first among them, pulling a heavy travelling case on wheels behind her. She looked stunning: her light blonde hair was longer than I remembered and fell past her shoulders, while her skin, which I remembered as pale, was tanned to a light olive. As I walked towards her, she abandoned her case and ran the last steps, jumping up and wrapping her arms around me. As she hugged me I could smell her perfume - a different brand than she'd worn before.

"You look beautiful!" I said, the only thing I was capable of saying at that moment.

"Thank you very much," she laughed into my ear, before loosening her grip and sliding back to her feet. "You're not so bad yourself. First class tickets! You know how to spoil a girl."

She slid her arm under mine as I picked up her case and we walked to the station exit, then squeezed my bicep with her free hand.

"Where did that come from? You've been going to the gym!" she exclaimed.

"Oh yeah," I answered. "It's been one of the keys to my survival lately."

She nodded, laughing, "I know the feeling. You're not the only one with some new muscles."

I settled her in the passenger seat of my car, tossed her bag in the trunk and climbed in to see her looking at me expectantly.

"Well?" she asked. "Aren't you going to make sure I followed the instructions on the list?"

I looked her up and down. "I can see the high heels," I said, lifting the hem of her knee-length winter coat. "And the long dress looks right." Then I noticed that she was wearing very sheer black hose. "Pantyhose might be considered cheating on the no underwear rule." She pouted at me as I continued the inspection. I saw she was wearing a very sophisticated shade of dark-red lipstick, with nails painted to match. "The 'dressed up nice for dinner' part looks ok too. The rest, I guess I'll have to take on faith."

She snorted at me, then snuck a quick look around before taking the hems of her coat and dress into her hands. "I didn't need to cheat," she said, parting the fabric at the centre slowly, revealing more and more thigh until the lacy tops of her hold-ups came into view, along with a half-inch of tanned thigh.

I laughed. "Perfect in every way," I said, starting the car.

"My friend Sarah suggested them," she said, smiling at me.

"Sarah the ethical slut?" I asked, "Sarah who saw the list?"

"Yes, and yes." She answered.

"I like this Sarah," I said. "What did she think?"

"She asked if you had a brother, or if I'd be willing to sublet you. She says the world needs more men who know how to make the right demands," she said, settling back in her seat with a self-satisfied smile.

"I definitely like this Sarah. How much did you decide to tell her about why you wanted to see me?" I asked.

Karolina kept smiling. "Enough, I think. I said you were the one who made me do things. She got that."

From there we fell into a conversation that took us to the restaurant and through the appetisers and main courses. When her coat and scarf came off, I could see her dress for the first time, a vee-necked, black silk shirtdress that emphasised her flat stomach and curvy figure. A long off-center slash up from the hem showed flashes of thigh as we walked to our table - flashes that stopped just short of the lace tops I knew were there.

Karolina really had made changes in her life: she had become more serious about her studies, was getting top grades, and had even passed up a junior year abroad on a cushy course in Italy to take advanced classes that would help her get a spot at good graduate programme. I was proud of her. She was working hard and seeing the first returns from her efforts. The chatter died down as we tucked into our entrees, and I noticed Karolina inspecting me between bites of her fish.

"What is it?" I asked. "You keep studying me."

She smiled back at me and said: "You're different. Not just from the gym, although I like the muscles. Around your eyes you're different and around your mouth. More grown-up. More, um, more like a grown man and less like a college student."

I didn't know quite what to say, although it sounded like a compliment. "It's been challenging since graduating. It's changing me, I think. I'm having to toughen up a lot, maybe faster than I would have otherwise."

Karolina nodded at me. "That's how you look: tougher, harder. You looked like that with me, when we were alone sometimes. Now you look like that all the time. Like you're someone who gets his way." She smiled as she said that, flirting a little.

"Sounds like good news for you," I replied, smiling back.

"Mmmm-hmmm," she purred, dabbing at her lips with a napkin. "Let's just say I'm a happy woman so far."

"Happy," I asked, "or happy mixed with frustrated, after four days without any real fun?"

She blushed and took a sip of her wine before answering. "You have no idea. Sarah is shameless. Once she saw the list, every time she saw me she'd start whispering the dirtiest fantasy scenes in my ear."

"Oh, Sarah's on the Christmas card list now," I said. "Has she been keeping you all hot and bothered?"

"She's been merciless. She even called me from in bed with one of her girlfriends to tell me what I was missing."

"Girlfriends?" I asked. "I thought you said something about boys and protein?"

Karolina gave me a grin. "Sarah's the most bi person I've ever met, not that I've met that many yet. She's got a string of desperate little cheerleader types who follow her around like puppies. You should see them when she's flirting with boy. If looks could kill..."

"Maybe you should sublet me," I said. "You're making her sound like every man's fantasy."

She smiled at me and leaned across the table. "Not your kind of fantasy, I think. Sarah likes to be the one in charge, although she said she'd give it a try for a man who could come up with a list as good as yours."

"Oh," I said, feigning disappointment. "Well, I guess too many cooks is a bad thing."

"I'm more your kind of thing, I think," she said, shifting in her seat slightly but deliberately. The movement made her full breasts swing slightly under her dress, letting me know I wouldn't find a bra when I undressed her later. "You like girls with curves. Sarah's more boyish. And you like girls that like to be told what to do."

"Can't argue with that," I said, as she gave me a smile of victory.

She placed her napkin on the table and pushed her chair back slightly, saying "I'm going to be a good girl - for now - and skip dessert. You might want some chocolate cake, though. It'll keep your strength up. You can order while I'm in the bathroom."

With that she rose and, as she had done in the car, looked around her to see if anyone was watching her. Looking back at me she, she slowly pulled back the slash in her dress, raising it slightly. As she pulled it to the side, I saw the tops of her stockings, then the firm inner curve of her thigh, then, just for a moment, her smooth, tanned mound and the full, fleshy lips protruding from her pussy. "Make sure you've still got an appetite, though," she said, before brushing past me.

The rest of the meal passed quickly and quietly. Karolina helped herself to two bites of my bitter chocolate cake, then eyed me lasciviously as she plucked the sour cherry from the top and sucked on it. Thank God I had my wallet in my jacket pocket, as I would have found it difficult to remove it from my straining trousers. As we waited for my car to be brought to the entrance, she leaned against me and I ran my hand down her back to cup her bottom. She wriggled against me through her coat and smiled, saying nothing.

"Tanning bed?" I asked.

"Mmm-hmm. It's my reward for being a good girl."

"Tanned all over?"

"Mmm-hmm," she answered, rubbing her ass against my hand.

"It looks very sexy. Does it make you feel sexy when you're lying under the lights?" I asked.

"Every time. If it wasn't so obvious, I'd have my hand between my legs every time I went."

"I think I'm going to get a job at a tanning shop."

We drove home in the same happy, expectant silence that had come over us at dessert. Karolina leaned into me, resting her head on my shoulder, while I pushed my hand under her dress to stroke her stocking and the smooth thigh muscle under it. When we got to my apartment, she handed me her coat and asked for directions to the bathroom, saying "I'm just going to check my make-up."

I turned on lights and took off my jacket and tie. As I looked for a CD to put on, I heard her high heels clicking across the wooden floor as she walked back into the living room. I turned around and there she stood in the centre of the room, naked but for the stockings and heels, her hand on her hip as though she were posing for a photographer. She had been telling the truth about visiting the gym: her arms and shoulders looked fit and toned, setting off her full, olive-tanned breasts. Her brown nipples were as long and thick as I remembered them, already erect and stiff in the apartment's cool air. Slowly, she shifted her weight from one foot to the other, showing off the curve of her hips and the subtle but visible muscles in her abdomen. I ran my eyes up her long legs, silky and perfectly defined in the black stockings, and paused at the sight of her smooth pubic mound.

"Very, very beautiful," I said, walking towards her.

Smiling, she turned in a half circle. "Is this side just as nice?" she asked, wriggling her ass as she had done against my hand in the restaurant's parking lot.

"Perfect," I said. "Spankable, even."

"Promises, promises," she teased.

I didn't need any encouragement. Drawing back my hand, I aimed a swat at her right cheek. Maybe it was the excitement of the moment, maybe I'd misjudged my strength after six months in the gym, but I hit her much, much harder than I meant to. My playful slap landed as a stinging, hard blow that left a clear red handprint on her cheek. Karolina let out a sharp, involuntary "Oh!" and took a half step forward to keep her balance. She turned her head towards me and I saw a look of total surprise on her face. My mind went blank as I tried to find a way to apologise for what I'd done. And then, without knowing quite why I did it, I stopped trying to form the word "sorry." Instead, I straightened up, drawing back from Karolina slightly, and raised an eyebrow in a silent challenge.