Well, not much to report. I guess that's good, the way things have been going. We've seen Clarice and Rob each evening, and other than that just resting and catching up on a week's worth of getting to know one another.

The thing is, it's weird. In one way I feel like I've known Brian for ever, we just fit each other so well. But then I keep finding out things about him, like when he talks about his family, or the year he spent living in Fort Worth, that remind me that we've barely been dating for a month. Taking him away from me for a week at this point in our relationship hurts. Not long-term, certainly, but I feel that I'm missing so much.

He's probably going to leave again around May 1, and may be gone for most of the month. I will have to go see him out there if it's that long.

Jack was acting strangely yesterday. I wasn't sure what he was doing. I'm still not, for that matter. He called me into his office in the morning. He's looking much better, just acting weird.

He asked me how I felt about my job. I thought he was going to come out and tell me he's not happy with my performance, my thing with Brian is screwing up my timekeeping or upsetting someone, or something. But it wasn't. He never did come out and say why he was asking me the questions. But I told him the truth: I like my job. I'm sure that I like my job much more than I would if Jack weren't running interference, because our pointy-haired bosses are exactly that: twits straight out of Dilbert. "Executive Row" tries to micromanage us, they, not the IT group, determine what software we'll run, then we just get the job of making it work.

Sometimes it doesn't, and that isn't an acceptable answer.

But as long as Jack's taking that pressure off us, my work is fun, and Larry and Susie, my co-workers, are great. I think the stress of work along with his messy personal problems (which I don't know in detail, but I know they're pretty bad) is the reason he has been looking so gray lately.

By the way, I did make a correction to an entry a couple of weeks old now. I was scanning through this morning, and saw that the editor had switched "attender" to "attainder". I don't remember telling it to do that, and, okay, "attender" may not be a real word, but it's the one I wanted to use. I just mentioned that here because I will feel free to fix grammar and spelling in previous entries. I wouldn't want y'all to think that I would go back and change any details.

Much as I'd like to...

Rob's leaving tomorrow. We're all going to the airport with him. I'll miss him, but it looks like he will be returning. I let Clarice keep him to herself today. She says she's taking him sightseeing.

I bet :-)

 

Well, Rob's gone :-( I miss him already. I was getting used to having him around. At least the part that wasn't besotted with Clarice. And that still worries me.

Brian says I shouldn't worry. Rob knows what he's doing. They seem to have had chance to get some guy talk in the last few days. I don't know what it is that guys get up to when they talk, but there does seem to be a communication that can go on between them. In some ways, Brian seems closer to Rob than I have been in years, and he trusts him.

So I took Rob aside, and I wished him well with talking to Pam about all of this. He told me he's sure he'll be back.

"What about Clarice, Rob? I feel responsible here."

"I don't understand the question. She knew I was leaving."

"No, not for her sake. For you. You know she won't be here for you when you come back."

"That's what you told me before, Helen. I know, you warned me, and you're looking out for me, but there's nothing between us." He looked away when he said that. "I like her, Helen, but what we've had this past week... well, that's all it was, just a week of really great... time together."

"You're sure that you're not planning to move here because of her?"

He shook his head. "Well, yes, I am," he grinned at my shock. "Not because I'll see her, but because I couldn't have made the decision without her. I've been really confused, Helen, and as long as I was in California, I couldn't think. Your Clarice has helped me be free of some of that, so in that sense it's because of her. Not because I expect to be seeing her when I get out here."

He looked over to where she was standing with Brian. She was wearing a black silk blouse with a button front, tiny short skirt over black hose, and no bra. I'm sure of Brian, now, but I did notice that neither of the men could keep their eyes above her neck. "If she were to offer to keep helping me with the moving trauma, I wouldn't say no, but I don't expect it. She asked me to call," he added.

"She did?" That was a surprise.

"Sure, she asked me to let her know when I was going to be back."

Rob's flight had already been called, so I took him back to the others. I hugged him and gave him a kiss on the cheek. Brian shook his hand, and turned him over to Clarice.

After a while, Brian turned to me, and whispered "do we look like that when we kiss in public?"

"I don't know," I replied, quietly, "but they're turning me on."

"I know what you mean," he said, and took my hand.

Clarice grinned at me as Rob boarded the plane. "Any other family members you'd like to introduce to me? What about this one?" She stroked Brian's shirt.

"He's not family."

"The hell you say," she replied, and winked at us.

Brian shook his head. He's beginning to get used to her ways. We all trudged out to the car; he was driving. Clarice asked me to sit in the back with her so we could talk. Brian said fine.

"You're screwing up my life, you know that?" she said to me.

I just looked at her. I had no clue what she meant.

"Don't listen to this, okay?" she said to Brian, though there was no way he could avoid it. "What you and he have, it's sickening."

"So?" I was even more confused.

"I'm jealous."

I laughed. "The free spirit wants to roost for a while?"

"Whatever you said, I think." She sighed. "I've been pretending this past week that I could be happy with less freedom, but I think the only reason it worked is that I knew he was leaving."

"So, what are you going to do now? Call Chris?"

"Shit. If I'm not gonna get tied down by a real nice guy, I'm sure as hell not gonna get tied down by a cheat."

Brian chimed in. "Rob wouldn't tie you down? That isn't what he told me."

"Oh, hush. You're not supposed to be listening." Then she leaned close to me and whispered, "Perhaps I should look up Larry, and see how good a job you did with him."

"No need to lower your voice, Clarice. Brian knows about Larry, too."

"He does? Helen, do you have no shame?" She was grinning, but obviously surprised, too.

"Yeah, well, there isn't much about me that Brian doesn't know, now," I said. And everyone else who has read these pages, too.

She leaned forwards. I had made the mistake of letting her sit behind him, since I'd assumed I'd be in the passenger seat. Putting her mouth very close to his ear, she said, "Get me alone sometime, I'll tell you some things about Helen that will make your hair curl."

"Now, that sounds like an offer I can't refuse," he said.

"It's an offer you'd damn well better refuse, mister," I said. He winked at me in the mirror.

I asked Clarice if she wanted to stop for a drink. She seemed a little subdued when she refused, and we dropped her at home.

"Damned if I don't think she's going to miss him," Brian said.

"Clarice?" I was skeptical. "She has already forgotten him. You heard her."

He shrugged. "Maybe it's just a guy thing, but I didn't think that was a goodbye dress she was wearing."

I don't know. I think the idea of missing someone is so alien to Clarice that she wouldn't know how if she tried. But then, I've been so close to her for so long, maybe Brian can judge her better from a distance. Brian is a very good judge of people. Certainly he knew what I needed to get over saying goodbye to Rob, but then I always want that, and we don't need an excuse. Tonight, though, I wasn't able to sleep afterwards, so I snuck out of bed and decided to write this entry.

Also, Brian says that however Clarice acts around him, she really doesn't want him. Not just in the sense that we all know she's kidding, he can tell that if he were really to be interested, she wouldn't be. He says she loves me, and she would never do that to me. Again, I'm not convinced by his reasoning, and he has promised not to test the theory, but he says I'm safer from her than she likes for me to think.

 

I've finally started writing again.

Of course, being me, I'm not writing one story, but two. I decided I would try again with the one I discarded last year. Of course, in the meantime I lost the text, but that doesn't worry me, because it wasn't working, so I figure if I start over I have a better chance.

The other is one I've been thinking about for a while, I mentioned it here even, but I keep deciding that it's too much like The Webmaster, about a writer, though this time in conventional media and genre. I want to write it, because it's something I can relate to right now. I guess I've decided that although it is a similar story, and is still told from the woman's point of view, it is a very different perspective. So I'm happy with it.

How quickly I will write them, I don't know.

I'd still like to think of another concept like The Old House, but that arrived out of the blue. I'm sure eventually another comparable idea will come to me.

It comes to me that I haven't really talked to Brian about the web site, beyond those first few days and comments about the journal. I don't really know what he thinks to my stories, or the fact that I write them. He has certainly never given me the impression that he disapproves... and if he did, much as I love him, I don't think I'd stop. The journal, perhaps, but not the stories. That's my life, they're my ideas, and as long as readers give me feedback (gentle hint :-) I enjoy sharing them.

I'll run my new story idea by him tonight. Though I'll write it anyway, whatever he thinks... one thing I think I've learned is I have to trust what I want to do. Working like this is... strange. Most writers can solicit opinions on their work while it's in progress, and talk about their ideas. In fact, that's part of the basis of the new story. But as long as my work is anonymous, and no-one knows what I'm doing, I don't have that luxury.

Then, talking to a dozen people about an idea can give a writer a feel for if a story is going to work. Talking it over with one doesn't do that. Then it depends just how he or she reacts to the idea. So if Brian loves the story, it doesn't mean it's worth writing, and if he hates it, it doesn't mean it isn't. Of course, if he loves it and I do too, that helps, so there's no harm talking to him about it, but as for useful feedback, it will be fairly limited.

Perhaps I should join one of the erotica writers' groups on the net. Problem is, most erotica I don't especially like, which is why my links page is always so small. And I suspect most erotica writers would find my work far too bland.

The best feedback I get, of course, is from readers, and I welcome every little bit, even from people who don't like my stories, or a particular story. Especially, in a way, the negative feedback, because it gives me patterns of things to avoid. The problem is that it's after I've published the story here. I guess I could go change stories online, but once they've gotten this far, and hundreds of folks have read a story, it seems a little cheap to say "hey, I changed this one, go read it again".

I do think some stories would benefit from a major rework. I love the ideas in The Trade Show, but the writing is weak, and the viewpoints are unconvincing. Much as I personally like The Setup, it has never lived up to my expectations; I think I've had precisely one positive email about that story. Again, I like the idea, but obviously the writing isn't working. So I should rewrite it, not abandon it.

I'd really like to do another in the vein of The Prince, but although I've had a couple of rave reviews of that story, it hasn't generated anything like the amount of feedback that Susan or The Webmaster - both of which I like, but which I think of as quite conventional - have.

Y'all are some picky readers, that's all I can say :-)

Jack has still been acting strangely today. I wish I knew what was going on. It isn't performance review time. I haven't seen Brian since we arrived this morning, but it's strange: even though I don't see him, knowing he's no more than a couple of hundred feet from me is so comforting after he was so far away last week.

 

Hmm... Well, I'm glad we had that little talk :-)

Last night I started discussing the outline of my new story with Brian. It involves a writer whose writing leads her to a little marital infidelity. I don't want to go into more detail yet a) because I don't want to give the whole thing away, and b) because I haven't written it yet, and it's Subject To Change. But of course, Brian wanted to know if it was autobiographical, or likely to become so. I assured him it wasn't.

"I think it sounds interesting," he said, "but I don't think I'm really qualified to know what makes a good erotic story."

"You don't like them?"

He shrugged. "I haven't read many."

"Mine?" I asked. I was a little apprehensive.

He seemed even more nervous than me. "Only a couple."

I tried not to let my disappointment show. "That's okay."

"No," he said, "you don't understand. I didn't want to read any more than I did... because..." He was blushing. "Because I was alone, and I figured that... the effect they had on me, I guess I didn't want to waste it."

"What are you saying?"

"Well, I guess most guys who read your stories, they probably wouldn't tell their wives or girlfriends, because they wouldn't expect them to understand. But I'm in a different position, I know that they turn you on. At least, I assume they do, or you wouldn't write them. You couldn't write like that if they didn't make you hot. So why should I read a steamy story by myself, when I know we could... get steamy together?"

"Oh. Now I see. You know, there are a lot of couples who do read erotica together, I've had email from them."

"So..." he said, still a little nervous, "would you like to?"

Now, there's an interesting dilemma. I guess I could have said okay, but let's read someone else's work. Because using mine would be admitting that my own writing turns me on. But isn't it okay for me to get aroused by my work? I mean, if I wasn't, why would I bother? And Brian already had that figured out. So...

"Have you read 'Susan?'" I asked.

"I don't think so."

"Then, tonight, when we go to bed, I'm going to read you a story."

"When will that be," he asked.

"However long the printer takes." I grinned, and dragged him to the bedroom.

I hadn't realized how long it takes to read a story like that out loud. But the delay was good, as Brian anticipated the coming sex scene, he was getting increasingly hard. Just reading the words aloud was an erotic experience for me, especially when he slipped his hand down between my legs as the characters started on the road to romantic involvement.

Then he replaced fingers with tongue, while I was still trying hard to concentrate on the growing intimacy as they explored each other's bodies. He was cruel about it, too, letting me down to read some more, then taking me back to the point where I couldn't focus, and certainly couldn't voice what I was reading. Then, just tickling me gently with his tongue, he kept me right at the edge, and my own writing pushed me over as Susan's climax became mine. I gave up trying to read as Brian sucked fire into me, crumpling the paper in my hand as I tensed while I shuddered in release.

When he had let me float back to reality, I dragged him up onto the bed. His work had left him rock hard, and I slipped easily onto him. "What about the story?" he asked.

"You made me lose my place," I replied, as I lay down along him.

Later I turned the tables on him, making him read the rest of the story while I used my tongue to tantalize and frustrate him. It was remarkable how quickly he got hard again while reading of Susan's sexual activities. But he wouldn't let me bring him to his own climax. He wanted to try what I had written, making me crouch on hands and knees while he entered me from behind. I grabbed the bedframe for support.

I was glad I had done, because... well, I knew it was possible, but it hasn't happened to me before, not like this... I guess you must need to fit just right...

It's true, you really can get a G-spot orgasm from that angle. When I came I was completely overwhelmed, and it was only my grip on the bed and his on my hips which kept me from collapsing.

I felt the heat as he came within me while my head was still buzzing from the overload, and when we finally separated, my whole body still tingled. I curled up with my back pressed into his stomach, while he nuzzled my neck and played with my breasts. I reached back to tousle his hair.

"Did we finish the story?"

"I don't recall," he replied.

"Do you like the way I write?"

"I do. But I like the way you make love even more."

"Uh-huh." I pulled the sheet over us. "Except that's a 'we' in there, Brian. I like the way we make love."

I turned my head so that his mouth could reach mine.

And there, if this were just a story, I would have left it. Did leave it, in fact, edited and uploaded early, because nothing else in my day was likely to be worth reporting after last night.

Then things changed. Not between Brian and me, I hasten to add... and I still hate to add to this entry, because I don't want to take away from the feeling I get when I re-read what I wrote this morning, but this is definitely a Today item.

I guess I was a little dreamy most of the day. I woke still feeling warm from last night's closeness, and although we were too late to turn that nice heat into anything more, writing today's entry was a high priority for me. I snuck time out of a busy morning to finish it, and when I was finished I was ready to take Brian home and repeat the exercise. But I had to work... so I was feeling distracted.

Jack must have noticed that I was behaving oddly. He asked me if everything was okay.

"Yes, everything's just fine."

"Not having problems with your engineer?" It took me a moment to realize he meant Brian.

If only he knew.

"No, none at all." Then I added, "Except that they're sending him out of town again soon, probably for a long time."

He looked at me for a few moments, then said, "I think we need to talk." So I followed him into his office, having no clue what was going on, but expecting it to be bad. I know my timekeeping has been a little irregular lately, but it isn't like I don't make up any time that I'm late, and much more.

He hadn't seemed upset with me. More thoughtful, but I was apprehensive, and quite ready to throw a temper tantrum if he started complaining.

That wasn't it, at all. He's leaving. He has been here five years now, that's three more than me, so of course to me it seems like he's a fixture. The last few months have been especially hard on him. I know he's going through something painful at home, and the stress here has been just too much.

His doctor told him to cut down on the stress. So he's going to go work with a friend of his who has a small consulting business.

"'Scuse me, Jack, but that doesn't sound less stressful," I said.

"It will be different. Maybe not easier, but I'll get the chance to think for myself."

And there's the problem. I knew exactly where he was coming from. They ask him to manage, but then make decisions that make it almost impossible for him, sandwiching him between demands and possibilities. Micromanaging their managers. Jack isn't the only one to suffer that way, but perhaps he's in a worse position than most of the others.

"Why are you telling me, Jack? You want me to talk you out of it, because I'd try for our sake, but I don't think that's what you need."

"No, that isn't it. I'm not telling anyone else. I'm not even giving my notice for at least another week. Phil is working on a contract that he wants me on, I'll wait until he has the purchase order before I join him." I waited, puzzled. Then, "I want you to think about this. Perhaps it involves your boyfriend, too, so I figured we should have this talk now, before he leaves.

"Do you want my job?"

Oh, sheesh. That was not what I was expecting. Especially after he spent all that time telling me how much it sucked.

"I don't know whether they'll be interested," he continued, "but I think they still listen to me, and much as I need to get out, I don't want to hurt the company. You could do this, if you wanted to."

"Could I?" I was skeptical, I'm a systems person, not a people person.

"Sure you could. Everyone likes you. No, that's not right, perhaps they do, but everyone respects you. I've seen you come down pretty hard on users, and I've never had a complaint. They listen to you."

"I don't know, Jack, you don't paint it as a very good place to be."

"That's why I'm asking. If the only concern I had was the company, I'd recommend you anyway. You know the systems, you know the people, your people - my people - would love to work for you. But I wouldn't do that to you without asking, because this isn't the easiest of jobs."

"Thanks, Jack. I just... I appreciate the compliment, but I can't see me as a manager."

"I'm perfectly serious, Helen. You could do this. It could be a good opportunity for you, but it could be so painful that you'll be following me out in the next couple of months. If you think that might happen, you should stay where you are, it would be better on your résumé."

"Do you really think they'd want me? I'm not the kind of person that I think would fit their management model."

"Meaning you're young and female?" he asked. "There's that, but maybe a change in attitude is exactly what they need. You're strong-willed and smart. That, they certainly need."

"Do you really think Larry and Susie would want to work for me?"

"What's the alternative? One of them?" He sounded a little skeptical, and I bristled. They're good people. But he's right, they're not management material. Not of Jack's kind of management, anyway. "Or someone from the outside? Can you see a newcomer doing an adequate job of keeping the pressure off them?"

I shook my head. He had a good point. "Now you're trying to make me feel guilty for not supporting my friends if they bring in an outsider. I'm damned if I'm going to take your job just so you don't have to feel bad."

"See, you can do it," he grinned, "you don't roll over when it's an important issue."

"Shit. That was unfair." But it wasn't. He'd trapped me quite cleanly.

"You know you're the lead here in everything but name. I rarely give you direction, and you guide the others. You're going to need more people here soon, and it would be good to have someone technically competent to look after them."

"I need to think about it. When would you want to know?"

"If Phil's schedule estimate is good, by the end of next week. And you understand, you said it yourself, they may not be able to see a sweet young thing as a manager. I wouldn't want for you to get your hopes up, then be disappointed."

"I know. I appreciate that, Jack. Let me think about it."

The office without Jack doesn't sound like fun, and I've lost my glow from this morning. I think I'd hate the work, frankly. But I also think I'd hate being here without Jack to look after us. And I don't dislike the company; far from it, I think this is an exciting place to be, but they have some truly stupid ideas. Probably no different from anywhere else of this size...

It's possible that they could hire another Jack, but I suspect they'll eliminate anyone with will-power at the interview. Which could happen to me, of course, if I decide to try for it. Thinking it over, I don't really see a good outcome here.

I guess it's possible that "I try for the job, get it, love it," or "Our new manager is wonderful," but they both seem unlikely. So perhaps the question is: if I'm going to be stuck under a miserable amount of pressure, which looks better on my résumé in six months?

I think tonight's talk with Brian is going to be more serious and less fun than last night's.

Doesn't mean we can't compensate later :-)

 

I had two important things to talk to Brian about. One was Jack's proposal, the other something I've been thinking about for a while. We went out to a Chinese restaurant for dinner.

"Brian, do you think I could do Jack's job?"

He burst out laughing. Damn him, he can really hurt my feelings.

"What's so funny?"

"I just had this vision... you remember when I was screwing up the network, and Jack tore strips off Andy?"

"Yah..."

"I'm just picturing you, looking way up into Andy's face..."

"Are you saying I'm short?" Damn it, he was going to pay for this.

"No, no, Helen, I'm just saying that compared to you, Andy's kinda tall."

Andy is six-four. Barely a foot above me. "Hmph!"

"And I'm just picturing you, looking up with those doe eyes..."

I squeaked. "How much deeper are you going to dig yourself, mister?"

"Okay, looking up with those luscious brown eyes, and putting him in his place... But what's so funny is, I can see you doing it. You're serious, aren't you?"

"I'm serious about cracking this plate on your head. Or cracking your head with this plate, I don't care which."

"No, please, it was just one of those momentary fantasies. You could do it. Cut Andy down to size, that is, if you were to try." He was sobering up rapidly, and I wasn't really upset. I could see the humor in the idea, too. "And yes, to answer your question, I think you could do Jack's job. Would you really want to?"

"I think that's the main question here," I replied, "and I don't expect you to be able to answer that, but perhaps you could help me decide." I told him about my conversation with Jack.

"What he said, I think, Helen. It would be good experience if you could stand it."

"You're no help."

"Well, it's your decision, your career, and your blood pressure. If it affects me... well, whatever attitude you take to deal with the problems, I hope you can leave it behind when you come home."

"Yeah, well, stop calling me a short cow and I won't need an attitude."

"Hey, I didn't say cow, I said 'doe-eyed'. It's supposed to be a compliment."

"In whose mind?" I was grinning. "A stag's?"

He smiled as he shrugged, giving up the contest. "There is one thing. It seems to me you spend a lot of the day bored. I don't think you'd be bored as a manager."

"That's true."

We ate in silence for a while.

"Do you know when your next trip is, Brian?" I asked.

"May third, looks like. Probably two to three weeks. Are you thinking of coming out to see me?"

"I was."

"Until I insulted you?"

I shook my head. "No, I was thinking about something different. Do you have any vacation due?"

"Yeah, three weeks. Why?"

"When I wouldn't allow you to pay for the hot tub?"

He acknowledged the memory.

"Well, I figured, if we take two weeks' vacation, you might like to pay for a week for us in San Antonio when you get back."

"Uhh... well, that sounds good... what about the other week?"

"Well, we could spend that packing."

"A week packing for a week's vacation?"

"No, pack afterwards. I figure what you save in rent would cover the vacation."

"Rent?" Then he understood what I was saying. "Oh. Oh, you mean..."

I took his left hand in my right. "Why not? You're living with me now. The only difference is you'd never have to leave to collect anything."

He squeezed my hand. "Oh, God, Helen... I'd love to."

I returned the pressure. "The best thing is I could stop worrying about referring to things as ours, because they would be."

"I love you, Helen."

"Now pay the bill, and let's go find something that we know is all ours."

He stroked my hair from my eyes. It's a loving little habit that I've always liked. "Why San Antonio?"

"Because. I just have always loved the place. It's like a different world, it may be part of Texas, but it has never seemed to me to be part of the U.S."

"Because of your movie?"

I had to smile. "A little, I guess. Not really because of it, but it reminded me... I don't know of anywhere more relaxing, and I'd like to get away with you and just... just be a couple. Not have to work, not have to think about Clarice, not even have to fight with Selky for a week, just make love, drink wine, and listen to Mariachi music."

"Will you wear one of those scandalously low-cut Spanish tops?"

"In public?"

"Well, there wouldn't be much point in private, would there?" he asked, tracing the contours of my chest.

"Just how scandalous?"

"Enough to make quite clear what you're saving for me?"

"Deal."

"Now, what exactly would you be saving for me?"

I showed him.

So I guess I'm admitting that Clarice was right, and I'm in this relationship for the long haul. And I think I've known this for a while. Perhaps from the beginning, if I'm honest, which may be why I went so crazy when I thought it was over.

I don't know if we'll get the vacation time. Brian's going to put in for the first two weeks of June. I'll do the same. If we can't get it approved, we'll work weekends until he's ready to move. His lease isn't up until September, so there isn't really any hurry, except in the sense that I want him thinking of home as being with me, which I think he does already. And perhaps his landlord can lease his place early and refund the rent; chances of that are good.

I still have no clue what I'm going to tell Jack. But perhaps... having Brian around this past month has been wonderful, but before that, for so long, I felt that I had no support, no stability. If I'd taken on a job like this, I think I would have failed. With him to help me through the rough times... perhaps this is exactly when I need to take a chance.

 

Talked to Rob this morning. He isn't yet certain whether he's moving, the group in the Valley is trying to keep him. Offered him more money, for one thing. In Rob's case, that may have been a mistake. "If I'm worth that to them now," he said, "why wasn't I worth it last month?"

He's going to talk to Pam tonight. I think he called for reassurance.

Brian and I have started collecting boxes. I don't think we're going to wait until he gets back from San Diego next, we're going to start packing this weekend. Who knows, perhaps out of our two weeks' vacation (if approved) we'll get two weeks in San Antonio.

I'm feeling a little down, with as much as is going on. I need a break, or something. My story isn't going at all well, I know what I want to do, but it's coming out all wrong. Going on for too long, mainly. I think I'm just too tired to be creative.

Unless anything happens between now and then, I'm going to tell Jack tomorrow that I'd like him to put my name forward when he leaves. I wish I could feel less like this was a no-win choice.

Ran into Larry and Ellen at the grocery. I felt a little strange seeing Larry, and I was glad that Brian was with me. I held his hand when I introduced them, for my reassurance, not his. They seemed very happy together, and I didn't feel any jealousy at all, nor any regrets, just a little flutter when Larry first looked at me, reminding me of those few evenings.

No jealousy, but some ambiguity, especially towards Ellen. She's a friend. She is a friend, and was when It was going on. I encouraged and helped him to be unfaithful to her. And at the same time, made them happier together... at least according to Larry, I did. Does it even out?

I don't know. I don't think so, somehow. I wronged her, whatever the justification on anyone's part, and I feel uncomfortable around her. She'll never know, but I do, and I don't feel good about it.

I wonder...

I was thinking as I wrote that that I'd add "I wouldn't ever do that again." But of course I wouldn't, I have Brian. I wouldn't be looking for a relationship like that. So is that why I wouldn't, or is it really because I wouldn't again want to be in that position? And if it weren't for the way Brian has changed me, would I even feel like I wronged her? It's like I'm not the same person that I was a couple of months ago.

Up at the top of this month's journal I said I was scared. I guess I still have a little of that, but it isn't fear about where we're going, it's more a worry that I may yet have misread our feelings, that perhaps we could still screw this up, and it would all be over. Then, I was scared that this might be more than I was ready for. Now my concern is that it might not. Not that I'm really worried about it, I'm sure he's as addicted to me as I've become to him, I'm just using this to illustrate how much I feel that I've changed.

Thinking about asking him to move in really crystallized my thoughts on our future. I didn't ask Jay, it just kinda happened, and he kept his own place. I don't know if I ever really felt that we were living together, as such. We shared the house, we shared the bed, but we didn't really share our lives. Brian has been more a part of my life this past month than either Jay or Ted (the guy I did live with for a year) ever were.

Asking Brian to move in, asking rather than just letting it happen, was asking for a commitment. Not "till death us do part", but a commitment for the present to be part of one another.

But then, even that was an outcome of earlier thinking I'd been doing, when I felt (and he agreed) that we no longer needed condoms. It wasn't that I thought that making love would feel better; obviously, it does, but that wasn't the point. It wasn't even trust as much as giving... I gave him what little I had left to give, what I had never given anyone, unless you count those few minutes with Mark that should never have happened, almost half my life ago now. (God, is it really? Yes, I was just fifteen, and that's almost fourteen years ago.)

There's only one thing more I can give, and it involves rings and the words "I do." And how ever much I love him, I am not ready for that.

What I am ready for, after this long, depressing day, is a glass of wine and those lovely smooth hands of his. And to hell with getting this uploaded tonight.

 

I guess last night's thoughts made me wonder whether I had really read Brian correctly. You could easily see abandoning condoms as just meaning better sex, and abandoning the rented house being convenient and cheaper. I didn't think he was looking at them that way, but I guess telling myself that I wasn't really worried was enough to start me worrying...

"Can you stay awake for a few minutes? I have to ask you something."

We hadn't drunk enough to be light-headed, even, only enough to relax, but that and the slow, delicious time we had just had was probably enough to send him to sleep.

"Sure, I think. What's up?"

"What does it mean to you, moving in with me?"

"It makes sense. You own your place, I don't."

"No, don't be logical. I want to know what it means to you. How do you feel about it."

"I guess I don't know what you're asking. I feel... honored. Pleased. Very happy to have more time to spend with you."

"I'm not asking the question right. I don't think I know how to ask. Is it more than just convenience? What does it imply?"

He was quiet for so long I thought he had fallen asleep. "Brian?"

"I'm here, I'm trying to think how to answer you." He paused a while longer. Then he said, "Back in college, I worked very hard to get good grades. I really wanted to be an engineer, to be a successful engineer. I think I'm on the way to becoming that, and it's still important to me. Which isn't what I'm trying to say, but perhaps it's where I'm coming from.

"Anyway, my friends at college told me I seriously needed to get a life.

"Well, Helen, I've got one, and it's you."

I kissed his neck. "God, Brian, you are so sweet."

"Did that answer your question?"

"I don't know that it answered what I asked, but it answered what I was trying to ask," I said. "You just said exactly what I've been trying to put into words."

He kissed me.

"Brian, does it bother you that I'm so much older than you?"

He started laughing. I slapped his butt, making a pleasantly painful sound.

"It really worries you, doesn't it?" He was still chuckling.

"Clarice said it. I've always had a thing for older men. I didn't expect to fall in love with a youngster."

He laughed again. "I'm twenty-five. You're twenty-eight. Three years hardly makes me a teenager or you an old maid."

"Four," I said. "I'm almost twenty-nine."

"Oh, wow, right, three and a half years. I guess that makes all the difference."

"Don't be a jerk."

"Helen, I don't think of you as being older than me, except when you talk about it. Even when you talk about it. I'm sorry, I just can't. Perhaps I don't see it, or perhaps I just love your adult ways." He chuckled. "Seriously, no, it doesn't bother me, but if you're embarrassed letting your friends meet me, perhaps I could buy some gray hair dye."

"I'm not embarrassed. I guess I just keep thinking that you're going to grow up and want someone younger."

"If that's true, I'll be sure never to grow up. Peter Pan, that's me, and with you around, I can fly."

I hugged him.

"Think of it this way," he said, "in terms of life expectancy, we're almost exactly the right age for each other."

"Brian?"

"Uh-huh?"

I ran my fingernails over his stomach. "Can you stay awake a few minutes longer?"

I went to talk to Jack as soon as he arrived this morning.

"If you're still planning on leaving, I'd like to go for it," I said.

He smiled. "I knew you would."

"Then you know me better than I do, Jack. I only decided yesterday, and I'm still not convinced it's the right decision, but it seems the best option in the circumstances. What I'd prefer is for you to stay, but that's selfishness."

"Sooner or later, you'd be looking for advancement, Helen. You can't do what you're doing for ever."

"Why not?" I objected, but he was right. "So what's your time frame?"

"Phil got a positive response from the customer yesterday. The engineering manager has submitted the purchase request, and it will be approved, but Phil's waiting until he gets the PO before making it official. So it looks like late next week, with a two week lead time."

"I've put in for two weeks' vacation in June."

"I know," he said. "I've signed off on it already. Shouldn't make any difference. If they want you enough to see beyond a pretty face, they'll be willing to give you some leeway. And I'm sure you'll need a break."

"I already do, Jack."

These pages are way too long. FrontPage says it will take two minutes to download. That's bogus, I guess it's trying to estimate additional images and such, I figure < 30 seconds at 56K, < 1 minute at 28K, but still, that's a lot, especially if y'all visit often (and I know there are some that do.) I guess I could start keeping the diaries in reverse order, or keeping a page for each day, but I like to have the context here. I like to look back and see what I was thinking, and I figure you probably do, too.

So I've decided to chop this up into two sections, and I'll do the same with March while I'm working on it.

 

The phone rang at nine a.m. Yesterday (Saturday) morning. Seven o'clock California time...

"It's decided," Rob's voice, "I'm moving. Weekend of May 22nd."

"Oh, Rob, that's great. Well, I think it's great... how did Pam take the news."

"You know Pam," he said. His voice sounded weary. "Nothing can be right, but I think she's relieved. She even offered to send the kids to see me during vacations, though I doubt she'll do it. How did I stand that for so long, Helen?"

"You loved her, Rob."

"Yeah, I guess. I still do, to be frank. Thursday night was not easy, seeing her, dressed up for someone else. She seems happy, which I guess is all I could want. I need to get away from here."

"You want a place to stay until you find somewhere to live? Oh... Brian and I probably won't be here in early June, but that's okay, you could stay here by yourself."

"Uhh... no, that's okay. I already have somewhere."

"That was quick," I said. "You have one of those long-distance apartment location services?"

"No, I'll do that when I get to town. Umm... I called Clarice last night, she made me the same offer you did. I think there are some... benefits to staying with her."

Oh. My. God. Clarice? Clarice???

"Rob, excuse me, but I'm just a little surprised here." Shocked would be a better term.

"I was too, Helen. But then, every time I talk to her, she says she's missing me."

"Every time?" I was glad for the portable phone; I needed to find a place to sit.

"Sure, we've talked every evening since I left. I figured she would have told you that."

"No. I had no idea. Rob, I'm speechless. This is... this is not Clarice."

"Well, little sister, this may be hard for you to understand, but I think she likes me."

"No, I understand," I replied, "you can be a likeable sort, when you put your mind to it. And Clarice likes everyone, she just doesn't like them too close for very long."

"What can I say? I like her too, Helen. She has the kind of freedom Californians try so hard to find."

"And she's great in bed."

"Well..."

"She should be," I continued, meanly, "she's had plenty of practice."

"I don't believe I'm hearing this. Helen, I'm going to hang up. I don't like listening to that kind of spitefulness, especially from you."

"Oh, Rob, I'm sorry. It just came out, I guess I'm still worried about you."

"Then, for God's sake, stop worrying. Let me live my own life, and let Clarice live hers."

"Rob?" I couldn't let go, not completely. "Clarice made a comment about being jealous of what Brian and I have. You don't think she's transferring, do you, trying to find her own Brian?"

He sighed. "I don't know, Helen. I don't think so, but if that's true, we'll figure it out. How is he, anyway?"

"He's fine. We have a fun-filled weekend planned. We're about to go over to his place to start packing. I don't envy you the task."

"I'm okay, I don't have much. Most of it's with Pam and the kids. Packing? Is he moving too?"

I felt the glow that always comes when I think about it. "He sure is. It was either make this his official residence, or start charging him rent."

"Uh-huh. Have you told Mom yet?"

I flushed; I was glad he couldn't see my reaction. "Tell you what, when you're ready to tell her about Clarice, we'll do it together."

He chuckled. "Touché. Listen, Helen, I'm really looking forward to spending more time with you and Brian."

"And Clarice."

"And Clarice," he agreed.

We started work at Brian's house not long after I hung up with Rob. Or, at least, I started work, while Brian tried to look useful. For someone who's as competent and as clear a thinker as he is, he is clueless when it comes to organizing and packing. By early afternoon we were snapping at each other.

I finally got him working by giving him detailed instructions, looking for a large enough task that I could tell him how to get through it, ending up with two or three boxes, and get back to work myself before he had to start thinking again. Still, by early evening, I'd had enough of the stress - it was either stop or throw Brian out of the window, and he's bigger than me. So we stopped.

We didn't do too badly, in spite of the annoyances, and I figured we would be able to get far enough today to schedule the movers. I am not going to move him without professional help.

If I did, I'd need professional help of a totally different kind.

Brian's okay with that, he knows it's worth the money, especially as hopeless as he was yesterday. He'd just be expending physical effort moving things around, and still wouldn't get anywhere.

So at five or so we showered, which relieved the tension from work, and led to a whole new kind, as I lay on top of him, my feet behind his head. He's becoming quite expert at manipulating me. He gets those butterflies started in my stomach, and they flutter away for just so long as he wants them to, I have very little influence, even when I take matters in my own lips.

When he was ready to let me go, he slid his hand around from behind, and let a finger circle my pussy and slip inside while he tongued me to climax. I responded by changing from slowly stroking his shaft to kissing and sucking hard, trying desperately not to lose control and release him as I came.

My efforts paid off; from the power he fed back into me, I'd say they paid off wonderfully, and we were soon in the rosy afterwards glow of each others' embrace.

We didn't bother going home last night, showering this morning at his place and eating breakfast out. With an early start, I finished the boxes, while he dismantled the furniture. We're thinking we might replace my bedroom furniture with his, which is much classier. We can move my bed into the spare room, put the spare bed in storage, and find places around the house for my dressers.

It would be a lot more work, but it would be worth it, and I figure we can pay the movers to do the hardest parts.

So that's where we are tonight, exhausted... for once, perhaps, beyond the ability to recover our energies in love... but happy that we've really accomplished something, a thing that will be crucial to our future together. Important enough that, though I want to go cuddle him to sleep, I'm taking the time to write this while I remember it.

 

I think we overdid the exercise this weekend, packing boxes and moving furniture. I certainly have aching muscles, but the stomach ache I'm having is probably related.

I called Clarice today. She was very nonchalant about inviting Rob to stay with her. Trying to act indifferent... when Clarice is always passionate about what she does. Which makes me think there's more to this than she wants me to know. If she's falling for him... who'd ever have thought that?

If that's the case, perhaps I'm worrying about the wrong partner. Rob's going to take time to get over Pam, and when he does... When he does, if he has any sense, he'll know that he could do worse than my sassy, sexy, smart best friend. Much worse.

If it lasts so long... and perhaps that's a bigger fantasy than any of my stories.

Rob's right. I need to leave them to make their own choices. I need to butt out. But I am going to take Clarice out and get her drunk. I owe her one, anyway :-)

 

This stomach ache is still with me, worse than yesterday. I think I must have eaten something that disagreed with me. Didn't feel much like eating tonight. Brian fended for himself.

Other than the aching, things are going well. I threw away the part of the new story which wasn't working, and the new version is much better. I think it's going to work out okay. The other one, the one I'm rewriting from last year, it isn't going any better than it did then. Perhaps I'm just missing something, like a clue to what it is about :-)

Work started on the spa today. It was supposed to be yesterday, but we had a thunderstorm in the morning. It should be finished by the end of the week; I warned Brian that he still didn't get the swimsuit he promised me. Told him we might just have to use it nude. Somehow that didn't seem to upset him.

Talked to Clarice again. I'm going to take her out for a drink tomorrow. She told me to leave Brian behind. She says he's "too distracting".

Distracting he may be, but I'm not up to being seriously distracted tonight, so perhaps I can work on my story.

 

I hurt.

I was in so much pain this morning I took the day off, and called the doctor. He says I have an E-Coli infection, and prescribed antibiotics.

Isn't that the stuff they use for gene splicing? Are we releasing this little bugger into the world to make better corn and wheat that glows in the dark? (I made up the last one, but I do remember reading about splicing a firefly gene onto a plant and making it glow.)

Anyway, it's nasty. Comes from eating undercooked beef, he said. I guess that's the end of medium-rare for me.

I got my story finished last night. Record time, even... so, okay, it's fairly short, and even a little less explicit than most, but I like the feeling it carries. It's called Critique.

But what a waste. All those great carnal feelings while I was writing it, and I hurt too much to take advantage of them. Of course, if I hadn't been hurting, I would have stopped in the middle, the story wouldn't be finished, and Brian wouldn't know what had hit him :-)

So now it's finished I'm putting it aside. It may even need some fixing up. I don't know, because I'm not going to read it. When I'm well enough to review it with Brian, I'll work on it. Until then, it's off-limits to him, too.

More work on the spa. They claim it will be ready for use tomorrow...

I need to call Clarice and cancel tonight.

 

Feeling much better today. I decided to stay home anyway, there's no sense in hurting myself. I don't think the antibiotics could have made such a difference so quickly; I guess I must have been about at the worst point of the bug when I saw the doctor yesterday.

I used the day to make some changes. I've been slowly automating generating the HTML for story pages for a while. I published The Old House much more quickly using my Perl script, and Critique was a breeze. (Of course, I'm cheating by re-using old backgrounds, it's time to create a few more.)

Anyway, as part of that, my stories are now just text files with a few commands embedded. With the idea of making changes more easily, I've been going back and changing the old pages back to text, and regenerating them. Which has led to a few interesting bugs, and I completely lost The Prince at one point, both the text source and the HTML, and I had to get the page back from the web site to recover. That is a story I would really hate to lose :-)

But now...

Brian has given me an idea. He carries a Palm Pilot (actually a Palm III) with him everywhere.

Wouldn't it be nice if I were portable? :-)

Heh... I wouldn't mind Brian carrying me around with him. But since that's unlikely to happen, why not let him - and anyone else out there who's interested - carry my stories around in DOC form on a Pilot?

So a few days ago he introduced me to Aportis Mobile Edition and MakeDoc. Hmm...

His original idea was that I'd just convert the web pages directly into DOC form, but that doesn't work very well. The pages are too heavily customized with tables and other HTML that doesn't translate well.

But now I have the stories in "source" form...

So I persuaded him to part with his Pilot today. It's harder to get an addict to give up a Palm Pilot than it is to take cigarettes from a smoker, I swear. "But it's for a good cause," I told him.

"You wouldn't know a good cause if it sat on your face," he retorted. He's learning :-)

"That's not fair," I said. "I'm very generous." Just to show we were on the same wavelength, I added, "When I don't have this stomach ache."

But I succeeded, he left the Pilot, and I reworked my script... which didn't need much work, because the HTML is all done through configuration, so I just changed the config files to generate output that MakeDoc likes.

The result is all of my stories except for The Trade Show, which I haven't yet converted to source, in mobile DOC format. So you can take me with you wherever you go :-)

I'm going to work on this some more. I added bookmarks to one story - The Buyout, and it was harder than writing the code, because I have to think of interesting names for the sections (and they have to fit in about 12 letters). Somehow section titles like "Introduction", "Sex", "Going Home", "Oral Sex", "More Sex" just don't seem imaginative enough.

And I know damn well which parts y'all will skip :-)

So, there's bookmarks, conversion of The Trade Show, and an install procedure to write. God, I get enough of that at work, but I'd rather take the time to tell you how to do it than answer all the email. Fortunately, in my limited experience, Palm Pilot owners are very smart.

They're also great in bed.

Though my sample may be a little small for accurate statistics on that point.

Clarice was not very happy that I had to cancel last night. She said she understood, but she sounded depressed. I talked with her on the phone for a while, but we've always done much better in person.

She's decided that she'll come over and test our new spa tomorrow instead.

Which is the other thing I should get into today's entry. The spa's finished, the water's run, and we're all set to try it out. When Brian got home (see, I can say it now :-) this evening, he gave me a small bag. Inside were a couple of tiny strips of cloth masquerading as a swimsuit...

Well, actually, it's not as extreme as that. You couldn't call it modest, but it isn't the skimpiest swimsuit I've seen. Certainly not as outrageous as ones I've imagined in stories. But with a thong panty and low, underwired top, it's distinctly sexy. I like it. It's mainly lime green and light purple.

More than liking the swimsuit, I like the idea that Brian thinks of me that way. Which is no surprise, of course, the fewer clothes I wear, the better he likes it, but like his reaction to my summer dress on Easter Sunday, knowing that he thinks I'm sexy is a real turn-on. Unfortunately, I already know that I'm still not feeling well enough to show him just how much of a turn-on.

So the heater is on, the hot tub is running, and Brian has threatened to drop my notebook in it if I don't get out there with him right now...

Bye :-)

 

I have no clue yet how much effort it will take to maintain the spa, but I already know it's worth every minute.

We lost track of time last night. It was cloudy and cool when we went out, and I figured we'd do an obligatory few minutes just to see how we liked it, then we'd be back in the house.

It didn't happen. I think we were out there for around two hours. Long enough for my fingers and toes to wrinkle. It is so relaxing. And the connection between Brian and me, just sitting there, talking, it was sensuous without being physical. Well, without being very physical.

We just touched and talked. Brian gave me a nice long backrub - which is when I lost my top - and then a frontrub, which was even nicer. Even so, we must have been in the tub for at least an hour beyond that point, pleasantly aroused but not needing to take things any further.

I think it's a sign of a real bond between us that we know that we can make love when we want, but that we can be in each other's company, naked and aroused, and be comfortable with not making love, if we don't want.

Of course, we usually want.

All this was true until just before we got out. Then Brian started kissing my breasts, obviously getting horny, and making me so. "I wish I felt better," I said.

"If we go inside now, I think I could find a way to make you feel much better, without hurting."

I wasn't sure that was true, but I wanted him, so I was willing to find out.

It was quite cool when I climbed out of the pool, and I wasn't going to fight with a clammy top, so I just wrapped a towel around me and went inside. In the bedroom, Brian towelled me dry, then gently kissed my breasts while his fingers explored lower. It was not painless - my body's responses hurt my painful stomach - but I was damned if I would let that get in the way of my enjoyment. When he crouched by my ankles and buried his face between my thighs, I knew that it was worth the pain.

True to his word, he was very gentle, and didn't play his usual games of frustration, taking me smoothly into pleasure, keeping me there for long enough that I had to push him away finally, because the stresses were too much.

"My turn," I said.

"No, it's okay, I don't want you hurting yourself."

"Dammit, you are not going to get away that easily. I'll get comfortable, I'm sure you'll find a way to fit. Just... pass me a towel."

I lay on my side, the damp towel before me, and sure enough, it wasn't hard for him to lie beside me, at just the right level...

He tasted of slightly salty chlorine. He curled up a little over my head, stroking my hair while I worked. I was more ruthless than he had been, frustrating him as much as I could. When I decided to let him have his moment, I grabbed the towel, and let the fluid drip back from my mouth. It's much better for a man when you keep up the stimulation while he's coming, but at the same time, I didn't really want to upset my tender stomach any more than necessary, so I sucked and spat into the towel until he was through.

Then I dumped the towel and held him, and sometime before we released each other, the alarm clock went off.

Which was, it turns out, only the first of the day's annoyances.

For a start, last night upset my stomach more than I realized, and I was cramping when I walked.

Jack was nowhere in sight, though his door was open and light on. When he appeared, about ten, he looked gray. He called me into his office.

"I've quit. I told Ken about you. I don't know what he's going to do."

"I'm sorry you're going, Jack, it won't be the same around here. How did he take it?"

"What can I say? These things are never easy."

He didn't look like they had been easy, which is unusual, for Jack. He generally gets the better of the veeps. Ken is Vice President of Engineering, and Jack's frequent adversary and occasional ally.

Then, to top it all, just after I left Jack's office, the lights blinked, flashed a few times, then went out. Now, a ten-minute power failure, which is what this was, is not normally a problem, but when the power flops on and off a few times first, I just know that there will be failures.

First thing we did, while the power was still out, was shut down the servers. They're running on uninterruptible power supplies; Jack got the UPSs upgraded after the last failure, and all of our servers and routers survived.

Since the maintenance people had no clue what had happened, whether the failure was theirs or the power company's, we left the machines down. I should say I left them down. Jack acted as though I were in charge, letting me make the decisions, and letting me explain to the various managers and veeps when the power came back up andtheir systems didn't.

The software group was a special case; they have a deadline Monday, and Terry, the manager, asked (politely) if we could give him priority. So I let Larry bring up the router and their source control server, and Susie and I went back through the department making sure everyone's machines came up and ran. I left Terry with the warning that if the power were to fail again he might not survive so well the next time; he claimed to understand the risk.

Bobby, the veep whose power supply took a hit the last time we had a problem, was panicking because he still had no backup. All of his data is far too confidential for the network, he claims. He needed to be back online to be sure that nothing was lost. I made him wait until we got an assurance from the building maintenance group that the problem was with the power company, and had been rectified. Then I had Jack and Larry bring up all the servers, and I went personally to Bobby's office with a tape backup.

His machine fired up fine, I started a backup, and when it was through, I took the tape away. He started to complain about confidentiality, the tape is too sensitive for me to keep, and I let rip. This was the last time anyone from our group ever treated him differently. He would allow us access to do system backups, he would keep his data on the network, or the next time he lost anything, it would be history.

So much for taking Jack's job. I'll be lucky if I keep mine after that.

We did have one machine that was fried; it was in Brian's area, and much as I would have liked to have attended to it, I sent Susie to get it back online.

I warned Larry and Susie that if they heard anything about the power failure being caused by Melissa, to keep it to themselves, I didn't want to know.

Brian knew I was going to have to work late, so he went to pick up some chicken for us, and I ate before leaving the office. The hot tub looks especially appealing tonight. And Clarice is due to arrive at any moment.