Page 25 of For You, Sir

No! Don’t even think about that,a voice scolded. It sounded like my mother, like strict teachers, like the soccer coach who’d told me to keep my hands out of my pockets. A quavering protest surfaced inside me:Why not?But the answer was already clear. The same reason I shouldn’t lie, steal, or cut in line:It’s not what Good Boys do.

But knowing that didn’t stop the longing. Lusting for Sir when he stepped out after a shower—a towel around his waist, long hair dripping onto broad heat-flushed shoulders. He was the Viking from my fantasies, stepping into real life, half-naked and prowling down the hall…

I fumbled for my car keys and clicked the fob to unlock the door. After sliding into the driver’s seat, I closed the door and exhaled a shuddering breath. I was safe. Alone. The shell of the car made a comforting barrier between me and the rest of the world.

What do I do now?

All this time, the risk of family estrangement had kept me on the lonely straight-and-narrow. It was pointless to dwell on my sexual fantasies about men when I knew I couldn’t bring myself to act on them. But if I was already the family pariah, what was there to lose?

I threw the car in reverse and backed down the driveway, chewing my lip while I waited for the automatic gate to open.

I shouldn’t.(Why not?)

He didn’t mean it.(He absolutely did.)

This isn’t like you.(But it could be.)

I merged onto the freeway toward my apartment, wishing I didn’t have to make a choice. Sir had offered me a forbidden fruit, sweet as an overripe peach. If I took a bite, it would gush with juice and dribble down my chin. I had always liked sweet things, but I hated to make a mess…

What would this mean for my career? Could Sir still respect me as a professional if he saw me like that? The back of my neck prickled with shame at just thinking about climaxing in front of him. No, it was too vulnerable, too crude. I would have to decline.

But if I refused, things looked just as bad. I would be self-conscious around Sir, just knowing he wanted me. Wouldn’t that disrupt our client-employee relationship? Whatever I did, we couldn’t just go back to being butler and client afterward, could we? Sir had changed things between us simply by suggesting it. Damn him.

Then again… if things would be weird between us no matter what I did, maybe I should just accept his offer. Perhaps that was the only option that offered either of us any relief.

The mental image surfaced—Sir jerking my pants down and feasting on me while I gasped and struggled, clutching his shaggy blond hair. Would he be rough and commanding like the Viking in my fantasies? He seemed too nice for that, but people weren’t always how they seemed. When I first suggested he take his pills, the sternness in Sir’s eyes excited me.How dare you?that look demanded. It made me want to sink to my knees in contrition.

If only he had ordered me to suckhiscock instead of offering to suck mine. That would make things easier. Then my self-indulgence would be born from obedience, not selfishness. The thought of Sir pleasuring me made me feel guilty and ashamed, but when I thought of serving him, it feltright. A butler should serve, not be served.Just order me, Sir, and I will obey…My skin shivered with goosebumps when I thought of him making stern demands, taking me in his unyielding hands…

But Sir seemed too much of a gentleman to push himself on me like I wanted, and I was too much of a coward to ask. No matter how I tried to spin it, I couldn’t see this ending well. We would edge around what we both desired. Two compatible gears, yet with teeth never quite aligned.

If I gave in to desire, and things went wrong, it would be too late to return to the safe shores of professional courtesy. Would Sir feel rejected and retreat into himself again? I couldn’t even get him to take his medicine, let alone write. One wrong step from me could erase all the progress he’d already made. Unless…

A servant serves.The gears turned.

Sir had responded well to my manipulation previously. I made him shower and get dressed before I let him have lunch with me. Could I do the same thing here? I could give Sir what he wanted, on the condition that he took his pills. For his own sake, of course... Push and pull, effort and reward. I wouldn’t have to feel guilty if it was all in service to Sir. And if Sir refused to take them, the decision would be blissfully out of my hands.

A voice of doubt screamed,What are you thinking? This isn’t like you! Unprofessional. Unethical. Sick!

I hated that voice, but it was right about one thing. This wasn’t like me. Who was this desperate, depraved version of myself?

But a voice of temptation, sounding much like Sir’s, offered a rebuttal:This IS your nature. The true self that you hide.

Fear of rejection, of humiliation, was a knife pressed against my ribs, but, for once, desire loomed larger than fear, and I dared to lean into the blade.

~

I didn’t touch myself that night; I let the tension build so I wouldn’t lose my nerve. In the morning, I showered extra thoroughly, soaping my groin twice in case Sir put his mouth there later.

Preparing to sleep with my boss. I had to be crazy.

I drove to work in a dreamlike fog, sucking on a mint. My apprehension grew, turning into a stone in my belly. What if I didn’t like it? (What if Idid?) What if Sir acted like yesterday’s conversation never happened? I wouldn’t have the balls to bring it up on my own.

I drove to Sir’s home without stopping for groceries. If I chickened out, I could always use shopping as an excuse to flee. As I strode up to his front door, I forced my face into placidity, trying not to think about how long it had been since the last time I had sex. How it had never been with a man.

I unlocked the door and Sir was already standing there, lingering in the hall by the foyer like he was waiting for me. My cheeks burned and I couldn’t look at his face. He wore a fitted white shirt and gray cotton athletic pants so thin I could see the outline of his cock. A Norwegian wolf lying in wait for its prey to pass by.

“Good morning, Sir.” I hung my suit jacket in the coat closet.

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