Yanking myself up to the bar yet again, my muscles roaring with a burn, I realize maybe the time has arrived when I put all my focus in my work and leave women alone entirely. There is one problem though—I have an undeniable sex drive. In my lust for life and the need for constant challenges, fucking a woman is something I don’t think I can live without. At least, not for long, which leads to the paradox I so often find myself in. I want something special to come from what is so often in my partner’s eyes nothing but a conquest.
With a grunt, I drop to the floor, my body quivering. It's time to move on to the leg press, and I welcome the challenge of the lift coming. Hopefully my focus on setting a new personal record will help at least temporarily erase Alma and all the women before her from my memory. Adjusting the weight, the decision to swear off women seems the only way to move forward. Even if I must touch myself to keep my sexual needs under control, I will not succumb to my romantic notions again. If true love exists, and life is convincing me there is no such thing, then true love will have to smack me in the face, because my days of chasing after it are over.
I slide into the chair of the weight machine and take a deep breath to let out slow as I lift the metal plates when I hear someone coming up on my left. In the blink of an eye, instinct has me searching the mirrors on the room’s walls for the threat while assessing how I can swing from the weight machine to face my foe in a defensive stance.
“Captain Nassar,” the intruder says before I react. “I am here on urgent business.”
I recognize his voice immediately, although it surprises me. A high-ranking civilian aide to one of the most powerful women in the country, if not the world. I made his acquaintance on an exclusive guard detail a few years before. His sudden appearance on a military base in the middle of the night has me intrigued.
“Yes.”
The aide crosses to where I sit, and I notice he carries an envelope— one of those used for confidential missives. My curiosity peeks now. Although I am awaiting orders for my next assignment, receiving them through civilian channels would be most unusual. Still, he holds it out to me.
“I've been asked to find you and personally deliver this to your hands only.”
I take the offering examining the front to notice not even my name is on it. A very private message indeed. “Thank you,” I say. “You are dismissed.” The man gives a short bow and disappears back the way he came. Once I am alone, I slip a finger under the edge of the flap and pull it open. A quick scan of the contents both confirms the answer to one of my questions, but also only adds more. This document is indeed from the rich and powerful woman. The directions are clear—report to her immediately. The location for our rendezvous is a surprise though. Not at her mid-city office, her fortress of an estate, or even in one of the many buildings she owns, but in a somewhat questionable warehouse district deep in the heart of the city.
What is also not stated is the reason for the clandestine approach or the topic of our discussion. If there is a new assignment for me involved, it will certainly be unusual to receive it like this and from her. A brief thought of espionage crosses my mind. Even though I have ten years of experience with the guard, never has an assignment entailed undercover work. The possibility is intriguing. I realize this is precisely what I need right now to distract me from Alma and all the women like her who have misled me. Perhaps the assignment will entail working solo, where I will not meet any women at all. Particularly beautiful ones who have an eye for tall, broad-shouldered lesbian soldiers. One thing is certain though. The message requests my attendance immediately, and I know the woman asking for me is not someone I would ever want to keep waiting. Sliding from the leg press, I grab up my towel and water bottle before I jog toward the showers to start what I hope is a new and distracting adventure.
3
In an elaborate set of offices I never knew existed in this part of the city, there are six plush leather chairs in the waiting area. I’m too restless to sit in any of them. The receptionist, who acts as if being at her desk greeting visitors in the middle of the night at such a secret location is totally normal, was apologetic when she explained there would be a delay. An urgent business call from overseas came in unexpectedly. Of course, I understand completely. I am here to meet one of the most influential persons in the world. My time is minor by comparison, and I don't mind waiting under these circumstances. Typically, patience is something I take pride in. Still, it is all I can do not to pace the lavishly decorated space. The clandestine nature of the request is one thing, but my intuition tells me this will likely be a life-altering conversation. Professionally, at least.
Leaning against a wall, I take a deep breath and let it out slowly to keep myself relaxed. When I am called in, I want to appear calm. While I start to ponder again what this could be about, my phone vibrates in my pants’ pocket. Reaching inside, I glance at the screen only to see there is a text from Alma. Furrowing my brow, I unlock the phone to check the message and am surprised to see a very sexy picture of the brunette I fucked only hours before. She still wears the corset and stockings but has slipped one breast free to finger the hard nipple. Unable to help myself, I lick my lips, thinking of how it would taste. Damn her. Another text quickly follows. This time the picture is of her legs spread. Her hand is poised with just the tips of her fingers at the top of her lacy panties. Fuck. My body tightens in response. We really did have great sex.
“Come back,” the third message says, this time with no picture. “False alarm. He won’t be back until tomorrow night.” I clench my jaw at her invitation. As much as I hate the idea of cheating, the vision of punishing her ever so sweetly for her lies is tempting. Unlike our previous meetings where I submit to her leading me around until the moment I can’t wait and take her, there will be no teasing this time. No. If I go to her house now, she will see a new side to me. The one who takes great pleasure in holding a woman’s hands over her head, pinning her legs apart with my own, and sliding my fingers into her. If I go back there, she will scream her pleasure and feel me for days to come.
And then what? The only final answer is I leave knowing I have slept with a man’s wife while he is away, unsuspecting she is a cheater. I would hate myself for it, and I will not go back to her. No woman is worth my honor. With my thumb poised over the keypad, I consider how best to tell her to never contact me again, when the receptionist’s phone buzzes on her desk. Looking up, I darken the screen of my own phone before anyone catches sight of Alma in all her splendor and slip it into my pocket. There will be time to deal with her later.
The receptionist murmurs a response into the phone and then looks at me with a smile. “Captain Nassar,” she says. “She will see you now.” At last, my curiosity will be satisfied, and I start toward the door to the inner office only to have it open. The woman who summoned me stands there herself. Even though we have met once before, her presence is so commanding I pull up short. Although there is nothing in her simple black and gold Arab kaftan to suggest anything but business, her entire aura is one of sensual power. Exquisite to behold, yet with an edge of something more profound in her eyes. The image of a Bengal tiger jumps to mind, and I realize it is the perfect analogy. Everything about her is majestic, and I am left speechless.