Private Lessons
folder
Erotica › General
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
13
Views:
25,929
Reviews:
59
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
Erotica › General
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
13
Views:
25,929
Reviews:
59
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance of characters to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. The Author holds exclusive rights to this work. Unauthorized duplication is prohibited.
Week Ten - Stage Fright (Pt. 1)
A/N: Sorry for the slow updates. Life has been ultra-crazy this last month. I am only able to update now because I am stuck in the office during the NYC Transit Strike! But enjoy.
Note to Reviewer Provocateur: I imagine your guess is right on the money. LOL!
---------------------------
WEEK TEN – STAGE FRIGHT (Part One)
After the rest of the night passed with lovemaking and classic movies, Mr. C hired a cab to take me to work. He gave me a much larger amount of cash than was required for the ride to midtown. For a brief amount of time during the morning ride, I felt somewhat embarrassed at the money. Like I was being paid for services rendered. But when I thought of the alternative, of riding on a crowded smelly old subway car, I quickly got over my apprehension.
After all, if Mr. C wanted to spoil me, who was I to stop him?
I knew that reality would have to kick in eventually. And it finally did on Wednesday.
I was sitting at a local Chinese hole in the wall across from the street from where my temp job was. My diet was going well. Usually if I just had some wonton soup or a chicken dish, I wasn’t straying too far away from my goals. I had already lost ten pounds in the last few weeks and I was going for twenty more.
Also, my ambition wasgoing into overdrive. I was looking through various plays, trying to find that Perfect Monologue again. Finding a Perfect Monologue for an audition was just like finding a Perfect Song. It was like a search for the Holy Grail. Perhaps I was also using the quest as a way not to dwell on Mr. C. After all, I couldn’t spend all of my time in a state of heated anticipation with messy underwear. I had to compartmentalize...at least a little bit...
While I was mulling over a problematic speech, someone sat across from me at the small table. I was a bit annoyed because I knew that the place was not packed to capacity and I really wanted to study my monologues in piece.
To my surprise, I looked up to see Billy.
Good grief, not again!
This time, I was really unnerved. There was no way that this was a coincidence. Maybe, two weeks ago, he might have somehow gotten his ass in gear enough to get back into an acting class. But now, I knew that he was truly was following me around. And I didn’t like it.
“Hi, Maggie,” he said awkwardly. “I was just making a delivery downtown.”
Somehow, I doubted that he had any sort of job that paid any income, no matter how small.
With our last meeting, I had tried to be civil. Giving him the benefit of the doubt, I had hoped that that meeting had just been an unfortunate and awkward coincidence. But now there just was no excuse for his behavior.
I glared at him, emitting a pained sigh.
“What do you want from me, Billy?”
Quietly, he reached for my hand, causing me to nearly drop my plastic fork.
“I think we should try again.”
If Billy’s oh-so-sincere plea had been put on film, I am sure that all of the audience members would be cheering for me to go back to him. But they didn’t know him like I did. Why did he want me back? He never appreciated me when I was there.
Besides, with Mr. C in the picture, I could not possibly have eyes for any other man right now. Skeptic that I was, even I had to admit that I had won a prize better than the lottery. God had rained good fortune down upon my head. Whether it be fate or kismet or whatever, I could not deny that I was one lucky bitch. Last weekend, I had spent the night with the man of my dreams. No way was I ever going to compromise that for anything.
“Look, Billy,” I said, pulling my hand away. “I’m seeing someone else now.”
True, Mr. C and I weren’t really seeing each other, I supposed. Not technically. At least, I didn’t guess that we were. To be honest, I wasn’t sure what we were to each other. But it was better than anything I had ever had before.
“Who is he?”
“You don’t know him,” I answered abruptly. Even if I did sound snippy, it was better than saying that it was none of his damned business...which is what I really wanted to say.
“It’s that teacher, isn’t it?” he asked. With the question, he could not hide the malice in the tone of his voice. His green eyes were cold and hostile as he glared at me.
Ah, the Real Billy is coming out of the shell now...where have you been, Billy, darling?
“I really don’t care to discuss my private life with you.”
“Well, I hope you’re not seeing him!” Billy started, getting that condescending whine in his voice which made me want to slap him. “Isn’t he a bit old for you?”
Before I even had a chance to respond, he kept on.
“Or maybe that is what you want. You always have had a chip on your shoulder about your father going away; and now you’ve got a nice fat rich Daddy who can boost up your career at last. Just what you’ve always wanted. That is if he keeps you around long enough.”
As much as I longed to throw my steaming hot bowl of wonton soup into Billy’s snide face, I showed remarkable self-control. After all, this loser really was not worth getting an assault and battery charge thrown against me. Or being sued. Or whatever sort of sick malicious action he would take...
“I’d be careful if I were you,” he continued. “After all, he’s a celebrity. And guys like him will eat little southern belles like you up for breakfast.”
“I’m sure you all know about it,” I retorted, standing up from the table. It didn’t matter. I had completely lost my appetite now. “Bye, Billy. See you around.”
What had I ever seen in that guy in the first place, I wondered as I walked back to the office. I must have just been with him out of sheer loneliness. But those days were over now.
Still, I could not help but fume over Billy’s nerve as I typed away at the various expense reports. Yes, the guy was a hopeless cause but he had said something which stuck in my head. Was I just a fun little diversion for Mr. C while he passed the time teaching the Master Class Workshop in New York? All along, I had suspected as much. And I was cool with it. Really. But for some reason, hearing it said out loud made it hurt.
“Jeez, did your pet dog just die?”
The snarky voice of Mark Richmond intruded on my thoughts. I gave a sigh of irritation. Joy and rapture! Just what I needed to make my day even worse.
Mark Richmond was one of the execs I worked for at my latest boring temp job. Don’t ask me his position because I don’t keep tabs on that stuff. I had only been at this particular office for one week. Besides, when you float from one job to the next, job titles mean little. And it didn’t make sense to try to make friends or enemies with people as you might not even see them from one week to the next. But I was pretty sure he was a Vice President of some such department or other. Regardless of what the title was, his job was usually fairly stressful and he would always take it out on the nearest unsuspecting temp. In this case, me.
Actually, during the week that I had this particular assignment, he had never really insulted me. Believe me, in my time, I had worked for some real characters. People that would insist that I take down the minutes for their meetings and then get all snippy when I can’t understand what they’re saying because they’re talking so fast. People that liked to throw telephones and beat up fax machines for fun. People that gave me hard assignments, got annoyed if I asked questions and got angry when everything went wrong because no one would tell me how they wanted stuff done.
Mark Richmond wasn’t that bad. Really, I suppose the most annoying thing about him was that he was always having me do the most menial stupid tasks that it would take him two seconds to do. Like sharpen his pencils or open his mail. I secretly suspected that he got off on ordering me around. Being ordered around by Mr. C with our clothes off was one thing. Being ordered around in an office just made me cranky.
I merely glared at my temp boss and shrugged.
“Cheer up, why don’t you?!” he snarled before going into his office and shutting the door.
Good.
If the door was shut, that meant that he wouldn’t be bothering me.
At first, I did not detest Mr. Richmond so much. For despite his hostile manner and bossiness, he was kind of attractive in a quirky sort of way. He reminded me a lot of Chandler Bing on Friends, you know the one that Matthew Perry played. I never watched the show when it was really on the air. But I had received the first DVD set as a Christmas gift from my mom; and I had been hooked ever since. Now I was almost up to the third season. And I couldn’t decide if I loved Chandler or hated him. He was an awful cretin and horrible towards women. These are the days before the thing with Monica. Yet I had more than my share of wet dreams about him.
Of course, the fact that Mark Richmond was his own man meant nothing to me. As far as I was concerned, he just looked like Chandler too damn much. And so I couldn’t help but treat him as such. And Chandler was too much of a sarcastic ass to be bothered by anything that I would do.
At that point, my cell phone rang. If it was Billy, I swear that I would...
The Caller ID said Unknown Number. Probably a damned telemarketer. How did my number always end up on those lists?
“Hello?” I asked wearily.
“Maggie?”
My heart dropped in my chest. Mr. C!
“Hi...” I said breathlessly.
“I looked up your number in the Admissions Office. I hope that was okay.”
Was he crazy?
“Sure,” I said, trying not to sound too gleeful. “What’s up?”
“Well, I was wondering...” There was a long pause. A deep breath. “Would you like to have dinner with me on Friday night?”
Why did I want to cry?
“You’re asking me out on a date?”
“Well, I guess we have been doing things sort of backwards...but yes, I suppose that I am.”
Oh, Mr. C!
“Well, let me see...” I said, actually pretending like I had anything close to resembling a social calendar. “I’m pretty sure that...”
“If you’re too busy...”
“No, no...” I said frantically. Jeez, it would be just like me to play it so coy that I blew the whole deal! “Um, I’m pretty sure that...yes, I am definitely able to go to dinner Friday night.”
I tried to ignore Mr. Richmond storming past my desk, his eyebrow lifted inquisitively. Damn office policy! If he had a problem with me taking a personal call, he could just let me go. This was too important!
“Shall I pick you up at your pad?” he asked, sounding so foreign.
“Um...” I hesitated. God, the sight of my shabby abode would scare him off right away. “Actually...how about I meet you? I’ll be over in that part of town anyway.” I was lying like a rug and didn’t care. This was too important!
“Sounds lovely. Do you like Italian?”
“I love Italian,” I enthused, hoping that the Diet Gods would not strike me dead for even contemplating lasagna.
“It’s a date then.”
“Okay,” I said, feeling hopelessly shy and awkward. Apparently, I could be his sex slave with no problem; but when it came to a date, I was feeling like a gawky kid from high school. “I’ll be looking forward to it.”
“Me too.”
“Bye.”
“Bye.”
Fred Astaire was singing in my head: Heaven...I’m in heaven...and my heart beats so that I can hardly speak...
“Well, don’t you look like the cat who ate the canary?” Mark Richmond said, interrupting my fantasy ballroom dance. “If you can spare all of your admiring beaux a few moments, would you mind faxing this out for me?” He whisked the paper upon my desk. “Mucho gracias.”
I really disliked that guy. In fact, I was quite sure that I would fuck Chandler any day of the week over him. And twice on Sunday.
But as I floated over to the fax machine, I could not help but smile with a silly grin. It didn’t matter. Nothing could upset me now.
Note to Reviewer Provocateur: I imagine your guess is right on the money. LOL!
---------------------------
WEEK TEN – STAGE FRIGHT (Part One)
After the rest of the night passed with lovemaking and classic movies, Mr. C hired a cab to take me to work. He gave me a much larger amount of cash than was required for the ride to midtown. For a brief amount of time during the morning ride, I felt somewhat embarrassed at the money. Like I was being paid for services rendered. But when I thought of the alternative, of riding on a crowded smelly old subway car, I quickly got over my apprehension.
After all, if Mr. C wanted to spoil me, who was I to stop him?
I knew that reality would have to kick in eventually. And it finally did on Wednesday.
I was sitting at a local Chinese hole in the wall across from the street from where my temp job was. My diet was going well. Usually if I just had some wonton soup or a chicken dish, I wasn’t straying too far away from my goals. I had already lost ten pounds in the last few weeks and I was going for twenty more.
Also, my ambition wasgoing into overdrive. I was looking through various plays, trying to find that Perfect Monologue again. Finding a Perfect Monologue for an audition was just like finding a Perfect Song. It was like a search for the Holy Grail. Perhaps I was also using the quest as a way not to dwell on Mr. C. After all, I couldn’t spend all of my time in a state of heated anticipation with messy underwear. I had to compartmentalize...at least a little bit...
While I was mulling over a problematic speech, someone sat across from me at the small table. I was a bit annoyed because I knew that the place was not packed to capacity and I really wanted to study my monologues in piece.
To my surprise, I looked up to see Billy.
Good grief, not again!
This time, I was really unnerved. There was no way that this was a coincidence. Maybe, two weeks ago, he might have somehow gotten his ass in gear enough to get back into an acting class. But now, I knew that he was truly was following me around. And I didn’t like it.
“Hi, Maggie,” he said awkwardly. “I was just making a delivery downtown.”
Somehow, I doubted that he had any sort of job that paid any income, no matter how small.
With our last meeting, I had tried to be civil. Giving him the benefit of the doubt, I had hoped that that meeting had just been an unfortunate and awkward coincidence. But now there just was no excuse for his behavior.
I glared at him, emitting a pained sigh.
“What do you want from me, Billy?”
Quietly, he reached for my hand, causing me to nearly drop my plastic fork.
“I think we should try again.”
If Billy’s oh-so-sincere plea had been put on film, I am sure that all of the audience members would be cheering for me to go back to him. But they didn’t know him like I did. Why did he want me back? He never appreciated me when I was there.
Besides, with Mr. C in the picture, I could not possibly have eyes for any other man right now. Skeptic that I was, even I had to admit that I had won a prize better than the lottery. God had rained good fortune down upon my head. Whether it be fate or kismet or whatever, I could not deny that I was one lucky bitch. Last weekend, I had spent the night with the man of my dreams. No way was I ever going to compromise that for anything.
“Look, Billy,” I said, pulling my hand away. “I’m seeing someone else now.”
True, Mr. C and I weren’t really seeing each other, I supposed. Not technically. At least, I didn’t guess that we were. To be honest, I wasn’t sure what we were to each other. But it was better than anything I had ever had before.
“Who is he?”
“You don’t know him,” I answered abruptly. Even if I did sound snippy, it was better than saying that it was none of his damned business...which is what I really wanted to say.
“It’s that teacher, isn’t it?” he asked. With the question, he could not hide the malice in the tone of his voice. His green eyes were cold and hostile as he glared at me.
Ah, the Real Billy is coming out of the shell now...where have you been, Billy, darling?
“I really don’t care to discuss my private life with you.”
“Well, I hope you’re not seeing him!” Billy started, getting that condescending whine in his voice which made me want to slap him. “Isn’t he a bit old for you?”
Before I even had a chance to respond, he kept on.
“Or maybe that is what you want. You always have had a chip on your shoulder about your father going away; and now you’ve got a nice fat rich Daddy who can boost up your career at last. Just what you’ve always wanted. That is if he keeps you around long enough.”
As much as I longed to throw my steaming hot bowl of wonton soup into Billy’s snide face, I showed remarkable self-control. After all, this loser really was not worth getting an assault and battery charge thrown against me. Or being sued. Or whatever sort of sick malicious action he would take...
“I’d be careful if I were you,” he continued. “After all, he’s a celebrity. And guys like him will eat little southern belles like you up for breakfast.”
“I’m sure you all know about it,” I retorted, standing up from the table. It didn’t matter. I had completely lost my appetite now. “Bye, Billy. See you around.”
What had I ever seen in that guy in the first place, I wondered as I walked back to the office. I must have just been with him out of sheer loneliness. But those days were over now.
Still, I could not help but fume over Billy’s nerve as I typed away at the various expense reports. Yes, the guy was a hopeless cause but he had said something which stuck in my head. Was I just a fun little diversion for Mr. C while he passed the time teaching the Master Class Workshop in New York? All along, I had suspected as much. And I was cool with it. Really. But for some reason, hearing it said out loud made it hurt.
“Jeez, did your pet dog just die?”
The snarky voice of Mark Richmond intruded on my thoughts. I gave a sigh of irritation. Joy and rapture! Just what I needed to make my day even worse.
Mark Richmond was one of the execs I worked for at my latest boring temp job. Don’t ask me his position because I don’t keep tabs on that stuff. I had only been at this particular office for one week. Besides, when you float from one job to the next, job titles mean little. And it didn’t make sense to try to make friends or enemies with people as you might not even see them from one week to the next. But I was pretty sure he was a Vice President of some such department or other. Regardless of what the title was, his job was usually fairly stressful and he would always take it out on the nearest unsuspecting temp. In this case, me.
Actually, during the week that I had this particular assignment, he had never really insulted me. Believe me, in my time, I had worked for some real characters. People that would insist that I take down the minutes for their meetings and then get all snippy when I can’t understand what they’re saying because they’re talking so fast. People that liked to throw telephones and beat up fax machines for fun. People that gave me hard assignments, got annoyed if I asked questions and got angry when everything went wrong because no one would tell me how they wanted stuff done.
Mark Richmond wasn’t that bad. Really, I suppose the most annoying thing about him was that he was always having me do the most menial stupid tasks that it would take him two seconds to do. Like sharpen his pencils or open his mail. I secretly suspected that he got off on ordering me around. Being ordered around by Mr. C with our clothes off was one thing. Being ordered around in an office just made me cranky.
I merely glared at my temp boss and shrugged.
“Cheer up, why don’t you?!” he snarled before going into his office and shutting the door.
Good.
If the door was shut, that meant that he wouldn’t be bothering me.
At first, I did not detest Mr. Richmond so much. For despite his hostile manner and bossiness, he was kind of attractive in a quirky sort of way. He reminded me a lot of Chandler Bing on Friends, you know the one that Matthew Perry played. I never watched the show when it was really on the air. But I had received the first DVD set as a Christmas gift from my mom; and I had been hooked ever since. Now I was almost up to the third season. And I couldn’t decide if I loved Chandler or hated him. He was an awful cretin and horrible towards women. These are the days before the thing with Monica. Yet I had more than my share of wet dreams about him.
Of course, the fact that Mark Richmond was his own man meant nothing to me. As far as I was concerned, he just looked like Chandler too damn much. And so I couldn’t help but treat him as such. And Chandler was too much of a sarcastic ass to be bothered by anything that I would do.
At that point, my cell phone rang. If it was Billy, I swear that I would...
The Caller ID said Unknown Number. Probably a damned telemarketer. How did my number always end up on those lists?
“Hello?” I asked wearily.
“Maggie?”
My heart dropped in my chest. Mr. C!
“Hi...” I said breathlessly.
“I looked up your number in the Admissions Office. I hope that was okay.”
Was he crazy?
“Sure,” I said, trying not to sound too gleeful. “What’s up?”
“Well, I was wondering...” There was a long pause. A deep breath. “Would you like to have dinner with me on Friday night?”
Why did I want to cry?
“You’re asking me out on a date?”
“Well, I guess we have been doing things sort of backwards...but yes, I suppose that I am.”
Oh, Mr. C!
“Well, let me see...” I said, actually pretending like I had anything close to resembling a social calendar. “I’m pretty sure that...”
“If you’re too busy...”
“No, no...” I said frantically. Jeez, it would be just like me to play it so coy that I blew the whole deal! “Um, I’m pretty sure that...yes, I am definitely able to go to dinner Friday night.”
I tried to ignore Mr. Richmond storming past my desk, his eyebrow lifted inquisitively. Damn office policy! If he had a problem with me taking a personal call, he could just let me go. This was too important!
“Shall I pick you up at your pad?” he asked, sounding so foreign.
“Um...” I hesitated. God, the sight of my shabby abode would scare him off right away. “Actually...how about I meet you? I’ll be over in that part of town anyway.” I was lying like a rug and didn’t care. This was too important!
“Sounds lovely. Do you like Italian?”
“I love Italian,” I enthused, hoping that the Diet Gods would not strike me dead for even contemplating lasagna.
“It’s a date then.”
“Okay,” I said, feeling hopelessly shy and awkward. Apparently, I could be his sex slave with no problem; but when it came to a date, I was feeling like a gawky kid from high school. “I’ll be looking forward to it.”
“Me too.”
“Bye.”
“Bye.”
Fred Astaire was singing in my head: Heaven...I’m in heaven...and my heart beats so that I can hardly speak...
“Well, don’t you look like the cat who ate the canary?” Mark Richmond said, interrupting my fantasy ballroom dance. “If you can spare all of your admiring beaux a few moments, would you mind faxing this out for me?” He whisked the paper upon my desk. “Mucho gracias.”
I really disliked that guy. In fact, I was quite sure that I would fuck Chandler any day of the week over him. And twice on Sunday.
But as I floated over to the fax machine, I could not help but smile with a silly grin. It didn’t matter. Nothing could upset me now.