Biggest Risk of My Life Ch. 01

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My lust... trumps... my love.
7.6k words
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Part 1 of the 9 part series

Updated 06/08/2023
Created 01/21/2017
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I had problems deciding which section this should be in: Loving Wives or BDSM or even Non Consent/Reluctance. This has elements of all three. It seems the Loving Wives anonymous comment writers can be rather ruthless in any criticism but I will brave their attacks. However, constructive criticism or discussion is applauded and welcomed.

While this particular tale is the work of Fiction it has many elements drawn from personal experiences. Very enjoyable experiences, I might add. After all, many creative writers often draw from what they know to flavour their storylines.

This tale begins slowly; hopefully developing a viable background to what follows. Probably too slowly for the "tug'n'run" type of reader. To those, you may find more instantaneous peaks elsewhere.

For me, writing is an enjoyable hobby. I have had wonderful girlfriends over the years who loved snuggling up together in bed with me and would ask me to relate an erotic story that teased and tantalised them. They were, of course, the star of the story and this would normally lead to them getting extremely aroused as I tailored their particular erotic fantasies into tales of incredible excess. That meant that each tale was "off the cuff" and was specific to them. Hot stuff, eh? It also means that my audible audience was female.

Some ladies actually wanted to record the story while I verbally related it so they could remember and repeat it on later occasions. Still others wanted to continue getting stories, even after they had moved away and married. What had I started? LOL. They even paid for the stories since they took so much time and effort. Additionally, their partners often said they enjoyed the written versions as well.

That's when I first experienced how deeply creative and downright debauched the female mind can be! Far more so than most males. Particularly with fantasies that they would never, ever envisage actually happening to them. Things that aren't even for the gentle pages of Literotica. Even though they are tailored for only that person's desires, some are more universal and, if things go well with this one, I may release a few. Note: none have been published or released before, except to the intended party. Obviously all names and most place names will be changed to protect the guilty. LOL.

Any errors are my own as I do not employ an editor. Plus, you will often find English spellings and wordings/phrases mixed with my own local dialect as I grew up speaking English but I am neither American nor English.

Oh, the story has been completed and it is my intention to post one chapter each week. Providing I haven't already been bludgeoned to death by irate commentators wielding bibles and large dildos as weapons, of course. It's so difficult to please everyone.

Bon Appetite

...

BIGGEST RISK OF MY LIFE - Ch. 1 My lust... trumps... my love.

A woman's mind is a thing of wonderment and beauty. Can a Male truly ever understand the mind of a Female?

Have you ever completed an action and then wondered why on earth you did it? In fact even regretted completing the action altogether? Well, I have and now I'm sitting in my kitchen at home, sipping on a hot cup of coffee and contemplating the future or if I even have a future. The love of my life, Christina, may be lost from me forever.

She has left me. Why and who for, you might well ask. For ME! Yes, you read it correctly. My life is all fucked up and it's all my fault. I outsmarted myself. Perhaps an explanation is due. As Julie Andrews sung "I'll start at the very beginning, a very good place to start."

Hi. I'm Steve Ross. Pretty much an average type guy of 29 who works in the Financial Services industry in Los Angeles running specialised training courses for a variety of personnel: Bankers, Investment Advisors, Brokers. These often became the golden boy and girl "players" of the industry whereas I was merely an onlooker to their lifestyles.

However, I did participate as an invited guest at many of the parties they threw. You know, the sort of party that most people only read about in gossip magazines. Wine, women and song (and drugs) to excess to the nth degree. Anything goes, although I did manage to avoid the drug part of things. Way out of my financial ability.

Because I was never seen as a competitor in their dog-eat-dog world I became accepted as a casual friend and enjoyed the confidence and charms of many women who circled the group as hangers-on. The aspiring models and actresses hoping to snare a potentially big player on their way up in the world. In other words, with big bucks potential. LOL. Many were so blatant in their approaches it was almost another form of prostitution. Simply a business deal: I'll be your eye-candy and you can have this hot bod of mine to fuck as you wish provided you financially support my lifestyle and, even better, put a ring on my finger. Ca-ching! It didn't matter if you looked like a bullfrog as long as you had big bucks or showed potential.

Way out of my league but, as I said, I enjoyed many of the crumbs scattered from the table. Life was great.

I was no film star in looks but neither was I a troll. My 1.83m (6 foot) frame was slim due to my regular exercise with running and gym work and my brown hair, light blue eyes simply enabled me to blend nicely into the background. So I did alright with the ladies but had not been consciously looking for "the one". The pick'n'mix variety worked well for me.

All was well until around 2 years ago when I met a wonderful young lady who was to change my life completely. Or, she met me, to be more precise.

I was at the gym doing some warm-down stretches having just completed a run outside. One of the long-serving female instructors interrupted asking me to see her at reception after I showered, before I left the building. Naturally I said "Sure, Ok", wondering what it was all about. I was positive my fees were all paid up.

When I was finally all finished I walked up to the reception desk and caught her eye.

"Hi there Steve," she said with a big smile. "I have a strange situation here that involves you," continuing to smile at me with a teasing type glint in her eyes.

I hadn't even realised she knew my name as I had never used the instructor services available. I tentatively replied, "Ah, Ok. What's it all about?"

"Steve, you're one of the few gym members that use the gym as a base while you go running out in the streets. Most just use the machines. So it was easy to identify who you were when someone came in here asking all about you."

More confused than ever I just stood and looked at her, bemused.

"Don't worry. It's not something bad. At least, I don't think it is," she continued. "Normally I wouldn't get involved in a member's private life but... I find this intriguing and the romantic side of me is very curious."

Without me prompting her any further, she explained.

"While you were out running I had a young woman inquire about you at reception. She said she's seen you many times as you leave the gym and return after your runs. Apparently you run past where she works in a store just up the road."

"Naturally I explained that we couldn't give out personal details of our members. She looked so disappointed I asked her why she needed to contact you."

If anything, the instructor's smile got even bigger. She was obviously enjoying this for some reason.

"She told me the full story," pausing as she picked up a message pad from the desk, "so I told her she can leave her name and phone number and I'll personally make sure you got them. And here we are," passing a page over for me to take.

"Are you sure the person is me? I mean..."

"Oh yes. She described you perfectly." The instructor leaned forward and lowered her voice to a whisper before adding, "She obviously paid close attention to you as you ran by the store. Very close attention, I think," she grinned.

"Well, what was her reason for wanting to contact me?" I asked, a little confused. I mean was she some stalker or something, I thought. Plus, what did she look like. I didn't owe anybody any money or anything so she can't be a collection agent.

"You'll have to contact her if you really want to know," she replied, still giving me a knowing type grin. "But in case you're wondering, she is an attractive young woman who was blushing as she explained everything in a very charming manner. Quite heart-warming really. She did ask if you were married or not. I knew you weren't, at least not according to your account details or I would never have become involved. But I didn't tell her that. So if you do call her, I want to know what happens. It isn't often I get to play cupid," she teasingly explained in a bursting mouthful of words.

In a stuttering way I managed to half-pie agree to let her know what happens, if anything happens I thought, before leaving the gym and heading home to my apartment.

...

I continued sipping the hot coffee as I let my memories scroll past like a video replay of our relationship. At what precise point had it all begun to go wrong, I wondered. If I go slowly through the events of our meeting perhaps it will pop out like some marked point saying "It's right now... now". It wouldn't change anything, I acknowledged but it may help for future situations. To avoid at all cost.

...

I continued on home to my apartment, my little haven from the rest of the world. Most people would call it a Condo but I preferred to call it an Apartment. It had been a lucky purchase from a desperate Broker I knew just days before he went under financially back in 2008. The financial crisis had also created opportunities and I'd managed to purchase it fully furnished for around 30 cents in the dollar for a cash buyout when he decided to sell everything he owned and do a "runner" before the authorities bankrupted him.

I had visited his place many times for parties and had marvelled at the "no expense spared" renovations he had made when he first purchased it. The best of everything. When he half drunk and stoned, burbled his woes to me and his plans to run, I made a cash offer and he grabbed it. In hindsight, he probably would have taken even less. Oh well, that's life.

Buying it was the best decision I'd ever made; it was now worth at least 5 times what I had paid for it. Thanks Uncle Brian for fronting the money so I could avoid those dirty Banks and their mortgage programs. Plus, flicking it into a Trust was just common sense. Five years later and my private loan had been completely repaid and it was mine, free and clear. Repaying the loan as fast as I could was also the reason I was always broke and couldn't have indulged a decadent lifestyle even if I had wanted to.

I was the living example of all the financial planning theories I regularly preached on the courses I ran: a man with nil short term debt. I fully repaid my credit cards every month, thereby paying no interest. A rarity in todays' America. The Banks absolutely hated that kind of person and it gave me great pleasure every month to "stick it" to the credit card companies. Sometimes it's the small things that give so much enjoyment, I mused.

Plus, I now had no long term debt either. A situation most people didn't find themselves in until close to retirement, if ever. I gave a self-satisfied grin at this thing I was so proud of.

It was in this content frame of mind that my attention switched back to this latest issue. It quite intrigued me. A perfect stranger, a young woman... mmm how young, I wondered, I didn't like them too young, wanted me to get in touch with her. This type of thing had never happened to me before. Not like this, anyway. It reminded me of those stories I had read about Air Stewardess's giving businessmen and sports stars a note with their name and number with a request for them to phone. There was no doubt about why! "Coffee, Tea, or Meeee! LOL.

Or wild fans of celebrities throwing their idols their numbers, begging for some attention. They would do "anything" for them, they screamed. Was this the case here?

Probably not, I realised. She had seen me out running so knew I was no Greek god type. Nor was I famous. I didn't drive a fancy European sports car and, to the best of my knowledge, I didn't know anyone called, glancing back down at the name of the message... Christina.

Yes, I was average in every way, including dick size, I chuckled. No minnow but certainly no monster either. So it was doubtful she had been referred to me by one of my many hook-ups I had made at those parties.

Well, this is getting me nowhere except for building up my curiosity, I decided. So before I started preparing my evening meal, I picked up my phone and punched in Christina's number, noting it was a mobile number, not a landline.

"Hello".

"Hi there. Err my name is Steve Ross. Is Christina there please?" I said in my formal voice.

"Yes, that's me. Oh my gawd... I didn't think you would call," I heard her quickly reply, gushing the last words slightly as she continued. "My friend made me go in to the gym to ask about you. This is so embarrassing. You must think I'm weird or something... but I'm not. Truly. You have to believe me. It's just that... well... I umm."

"Hold on Christina," I interrupted. Mm I thought, she had a nice speaking voice with a good tone to it. Quite pleasant to the ear, I automatically summed up. Damn, if the rest of her was anything like her voice indicated, she would be nice to at least spend an evening with. After all, the gym instructor did say she was attractive so, taking the bull by the horns, I carried on.

"I was pleasantly surprised to have the gym staff pass me your number. Do we... umm... know each other? Have we met before?"

"No, no, not at all. I've watched you as you run past our store most days... and thought how relaxed you looked. Not all scrunched up in pain like some other runners. You would often be smiling as if life was a joy, or you were thinking about something pleasant... or something. I just thought... ummm... well, that you'd be a nice person to meet sometime and my work friend said I should... well... she said I should... umm..."

Deciding I should ease her embarrassment, she did sound wonderful the more I heard her, I quickly asked, "Would you like to get a coffee after my gym workout tomorrow night. I'd like to meet you and put a face to the name and voice," I explained.

"Yes, that would be great," she replied. "But, well... there is one thing I have to ask first... Are you married or in a committed relationship? Cause I don't want to cause any trouble with anyone. I mean... I've never done this sort of thing before and it would just kill me if..."

I laughed and said, "Absolutely not in any sort of relationship right now. I don't believe in cheating, so I take it that you are the same? No current relationships, I mean?"

"Yes, I mean NO, no current relationships. Sorry, I'm just a bit nervous."

"It'd be best to meet me at the store after your gym," she continued. "I'm just a block up the road."

We agreed on a time that was just after the store closed and exchanged details of its address. I also gave her my mobile number as I was calling from my home landline.

With a cheerful "Bye for now" she was gone and I was left to think about this crazy situation I had got myself into. Strangely I was looking forward to our coffee meeting, full of curiosity and a building excitement. I would finally get to see what my mystery woman looked like. For once I had a very enjoyable dinner alone in my apartment, contemplating the next day.

...

As I approached the address I'd been given I could see two females standing outside a store window, both wearing long dark blue skirts to their knees, giving them a uniform appearance.

When they both saw me, the brunette moved away from her companion, saying, "See you tomorrow," before she looked at me all smiling and wiggled her hand in a good-bye gesture. Strange I thought, as she disappeared up the road.

"Christina?" I enquired of the tallish blonde remaining.

"Yes, that's me," she replied. I could see she was blushing and very nervous as her eyes flickered at me, back at her departing friend, then back at me again.

"Hello Steve. That's my friend Julie. She's quite protective and she sorta promised to stay with me until you got here. Now she's ... err gone."

"Just making sure I'm not an axe murderer, eh?" I quipped back, giving a broad smile to let her know I was joking and she had nothing to fear from me.

"Something like that," she replied, smiling back, her large brown eyes finally looking at me and directly into my heart and soul.

Wow, I thought. She is gorgeous. I felt almost as if I'd been struck a blow. For a second or two I found myself speechless, not the norm for someone in my profession.

Who believes in love at first sight? That's for kids and women's romance magazines, I told myself. I did believe in lust at first sight but this wasn't that. This was something else; something magical.

Eventually I composed myself and we agreed to have coffee at a little café we both knew, within strolling distance. There we tentatively exchanged our stories. She was so easy to talk to. Conversation was mixed with laughter as she explained it was her friend and workmate Julie that had noticed Christina always watched for me as I ran past their store at around the same time each day. It was she who practically dragged her outside where they noticed I always returned to that local gym. Finally, it was Julie that almost physically manhandled Christina up to the gym reception and made her ask about me.

She'd been so embarrassed, she explained. One of the reception staff had patiently listened to her reasoning as to why she wanted a member's details. With constant pressure from Julie, Christina had told her story to the nice lady who had suddenly seemed to switch and become an ally in her quest.

After listening to her explain how she had built up the courage to make contact with me, I immediately complimented her. I knew how much it had taken for her to take this huge "leap" when she was obviously quite shy. I told her I admired her courage and that seemed to thrill her, no end.

I must remember to thank both that receptionist/instructor and her friend Julie I thought later as I finally headed home. But only after getting her agreement for a dinner and movie date on the weekend. Did I really want to see her again? Not just yes but HELL YES!

What was it about her, I wondered, that had caused me to feel the way I did, at our first meeting? She was a kind of golden, strawberry blonde with a peach complexion. Around 5'7" I guessed and slim figured. It looked as if she had long legs, in proportion to her height. It was difficult to see her top half as she was wearing a loose, voluminous blouse with a high neckline. Unlike most of the males I knew, I didn't like large breasts, preferring a B cup size any day to that of a D. Oh well, hopefully I will soon find out first hand, so-to-speak, I chuckled to myself.

Christina seemed to be a package comprised of a cheerleader body, mixed with the girl-next-door appeal, mixed with a beautiful type of, almost... innocence, it seemed. A completely free of guile innocence, full of love and giving of herself.

"What the fuck am I thinking," I thought as I mentally reviewed things at home. I've only met this girl once and she's captivated my mind, I grinned happily. I've got it bad, I decided.

...

The next few months seemed to race past as we continued to get to know each other. I was sold on her completely: she was beautiful, intelligent, great personality with a musical laugh. All my family agreed and accepted her immediately.

Her family was a lot more reserved and meeting them enabled me to understand the moral basis on which she led her life. Christina was younger than I had at first thought. 21 when we first met and she still lived with her parents. She was the baby of the family, the youngest of 5 and the whole family was very protective of her. None more so than her parents who watched me like farmers warding off a fox trying to get at the chickens in the hen-house.