Slow Dancing with a Fast Woman

Cindy was so used to getting her way it shocked her when someone actually refused her. It so happened that day I was the one refusing.

We were at an popular off campus bar and grill. The food was good, reasonably priced, and at happy hour it was really packed. I was sitting at a large table alone, everything else was taken by the crowd. They had really good food, and I was about halfway through a great cheeseburger when she and her entourage entered. Two more women and four guys. Looking around she soon recognized that I had the only empty table. She came over.

"My friends and I need a table, and you've got the only one available. Would you mind giving it up so we can sit?"

She was giving this big fake smile, assuming I would be happy to disappear for her pleasure.

"Yes," I said, with a smile, before continuing my meal. She assumed yes meant I'd leave, but yes meant I did mind, so I continued eating. After a minute or two she snorted.

"Are you gonna leave or what? We're waiting."

"When I'm finished or a smaller table comes open, I'll give up the table gladly. Or, seeing as how I have so much room, you could all join me."

"You could go stand at the bar" one of the guys said loudly, puffing up a little. I grinned.

"Boy, don't you know standing while eating makes your feet bigger? I'm already having a hard time finding a decent fourteen, I don't need to push it."

"Maybe I should make you go," he snarled. He looked to be about five ten and in pretty good shape, but his posture and attitude told me he had no skills.

I looked at him for a moment before taking a big drink of my tea, eating a few fries, and sighing.

"All right, I see three possible outcomes here. One, you kick my ass, and people think you're a jerk for starting a fight with somebody minding his own business."

Two, I stomp the dog shit out of you in front of your friends, which everyone will think you deserve for being a first class asshole."

"Or three, you could leave me alone while I finish the last two bites, and I'll be on my way. Why don't you let your friends sit while you go order a round of drinks? I'll be gone by then."

He puffed up. Cindy had been watching the exchange in amazement. She held up her hand.

"Stop it, Brian! I think it might end badly for you if you don't. Do like he said, order our drinks. We'll be right here, IF this gentleman is willing to share."

By then I was done. I stood up, pulling out the chair for the girl nearest me.

"Please, take the table. I'm done anyway. Enjoy your evening."

I reached behind the column near the table and got my cane. My foot was in a cast, the result of a too eager apprentice trying to show off for me. He ended up dropping a sixty five pound stone on my foot, breaking two bones. That's why I needed the table, I couldn't stand at the bar. Her eyes widened.

"Please, stay and let us buy you a beer."

"Thanks for the offer, but I have to decline. I can't drink right now because it would interfere with my medications."

Brian came back, saw the cast, and smirked. I knew then he thought I'd be easy. Sure enough, he followed me to my truck.

"You think a cast is going to save you? It just makes it easier. I'm gonna..."

I heard enough, so I turned, wincing at the sudden movement, and drove the point of my cane right into the soft tissue above his groin. He dropped like a rock, making a sound that resembled a balloon deflating, pissing all over himself. I turned back to my truck.

"Don't get up until I'm out of the parking lot. If you do I'll take it to mean you intend to do me harm, and you won't like my response. Grow up, pussy boy, before someone not as patient as me gets hold of you." He was still lying there when I hit the street

I didn't know it, but Cindy and her friends had noticed him missing and had come out to save me. They managed to witness our little discussion. They pulled Brian up, dusted him off, and Cindy pumped every one in the restaurant for information about me.

...

Cindy made it a personal quest to find me. She didn't have much luck because I took night classes mostly, and didn't socialize with the college crowd. I was older, much more mature and goal oriented thanks to my time in service, not looking for the 'college experience'.

She finally tracked me down by staking out the bar and grill. When I came in she stood, indicating an empty chair.

"Good, you're here. I've been saving you a seat."

She pointed at the only empty chair at the table. I looked around the room, there were other seats available and I was about to head for one when she placed a hand on my arm.

"Please," she said, a word she didn't use much, "just for a minute. We owe you an apology. Brian was an idiot, one of the many reasons he doesn't hang with us anymore."

I thought I detected sincerity in her voice, so I sat.

To my surprise, I discovered she and her friends weren't air headed jocks. One was a political science major with a good job offer from a lobbyist group when she graduated, another was prelaw and had already been accepted by Yale, and the other was going to work for her father after she got her MBA from Wharton.

Cindy was majoring in sports psychology, a degree she would use after her career as a pro volleyball player was over.

It was refreshing watching them fend off admirers while debating the profitability of new sports in context to their futures, asking my opinion from time to time. If I could, I answered their questions, if I couldn't I said so.

I told them I was too busy running my business to watch many sports, especially the newer extreme types. This led to questions about my occupation, especially from the business major.

"Wow, talk about a niche market. Is it good money? What's your business plan? How much market do you control?"

I held up my hand to stop her.

"It's excellent money. I'll probably never be filthy rich, but I'll be very comfortable. My advertising is by word of mouth, and my type of work is not affordable to everyone, I work on multimillion dollar properties most of the time. Right now I have two big projects going for developers, plus the restoration contract for the state college system. With the crews I have now, I'm booked almost two years out. And I fly out tomorrow to talk to the college system two states over, to do the same thing for them I'm doing here. With the crews I have now, that would add another two to three years work. I'll probably interview and hire a few local masons there, to start the project in a timely manner. Even when the economy went bad, since I tend to work for the wealthy, I still had steady work."

All of them sat back, surprised. Becca, the business major, was the first to speak.

"Wow. I'm in the middle of a paper on the viability of niche businesses. I think I'm gonna scrap everything I already have and do one solely on your business, if you'll let me. Please?"

I thought about it for a second and grinned.

"Sure, it'll be more free advertising for the business. Just a warning though, a lot of the work is away, so you may have to travel if you want an in depth analysis."

She grinned. "Not a problem. One of the perks of having rich parents is available funds, especially if I tell them it's school related."

Cindy frowned at the idea of her following me around but wisely said nothing at the time. I found out later she tried to talk her out of it. Becca refused.

"It's a good opportunity, Cin. The report will really look good on my application to Wharton. And I don't plan on hooking up with him." She smirked a little before continuing. "What he plans may be a different matter."

Let's face it. She was a beautiful, determined woman used to getting her way. I was more laid back and nonconfrontational, tending to flow along unless it went against my values. The inevitable happened and we slept together, starting a pretty intense two year relationship.

I led her on a good chase, recognizing early the only way to keep things equitable was to keep her off balance. If she got too comfortable her 'my way or else' side came out.

I spelled it out to her.

"You may be the queen at school, but you're just another girl to me. Oh, you're beautiful, and I am attracted to you, but I'll never be your flunky. I look on serious relationships as a partnership, with give and take, each with their strengths and weaknesses. In a perfect relationship, the weaknesses and strengths should balance each other, each partner taking the lead from time to time as needed. Understand?"

She gave me a smile that was half smirk. "Oh, I understand. And I intend to be your queen before we're done, just as you'll be my king."

It was the words I needed to hear, so for eighteen months I climbed the mountain, only to discover there was nothing at the top but a sheer cliff.

...

I believe she would have been willing to sleep together on our first date if I had pushed it, but I made her wait, part of my plan to keep her off balance. We got pretty involved with hands and mouths, but I always stopped short, frustrating her badly.

She finally got tired of it. One night, when I led her right to the brink and stopped, she exploded.

"Damn it, Bandit! Time to man up and do me. What's wrong, don't think I'm any good? I can give you some references. Or is it that you're afraid you won't be man enough to please me? Don't worry, baby, I'm willing to train you just the way I like."

I think she knew she'd overdone it, judging by the look on her face. She started trying to apologize but I cut her off.

"Don't worry about it, Cin. I've already had a few of your references describe in great detail how skilled you are. I'm not nearly as EXPERIENCED as you are, but I've never had any complaints. It's so kind of you to offer to share your expertise with me. Just like your volleyball, the more you practice, the better you are. And we already know how good you are at that."

I paused, thinking I may have overstressed 'experienced' just a bit. "And as kind as your offer is, I think I'll decline. You have a good night, now."

She was begging and pleading as I left her apartment, even trying to physically stop me. She was a big girl, strong, but I had been lifting rock for too many years, and I easily broke her hold.

I didn't see her for two weeks, despite her calls, texts, and emails. As it happened, I was on a deadline and had to work through the weekends anyway. Her last two emails were kind of nasty, she wasn't used to rejection and didn't handle it well.

Back in town, I ran into Becca, the business major, and Carol, her prelaw friend, at the bar and grill. I was sitting by myself when they plopped down at my table. Carol had a big grin on her face.

"So is it true Cindy dumped you?"

Becca saw my face tighten up and snickered. "Look at his face, Carol. I bet if truth be told, he dumped her. Isn't that so, Jess?"

I assumed a bland demeanor. "I'd say it was a mutual parting. Let's just say our ideas about relationships were just too far part."

"Ha!," she said, "I'd guess it was more along the lines of her telling you to jump and you explaining how you didn't like hoops. Whatever it was, it shook her pretty bad. She's been a screaming bitch since you disappeared. Coach threatened to bench her if she didn't get her head out of her ass. Well, well, speak of the devil."

Cindy had just entered, a basketball player on her arm. She looked at us sitting together and snapped. Leaving the basketball player in the dust, she stormed up to us. He trailed behind, trying to take her hand. The second time, she snarled at him. "Let go of me! What part of just friends didn't you comprehend?"

The look on his face told me that wasn't exactly what she'd implied.

"What the fuck, Cin? Why are you mooning over this redneck? He was already dumb enough to dump your ass once already. He's a loser, I bet he could never keep you in the style you deserve, like I could."

Becca almost fell off the chair laughing.

"What is it Bugs Bunny used to say? Oh yeah, 'what a maroon.' You're not even out of school yet, and your chances of making the pros are thin at best. Depending on your major, it could be years before you make decent money. Right now, Jesse owns his own very successful business, and has for years. He makes well into six figures and it goes up every year. Not bad for a redneck, huh Dustin?"

He was about to make an angry retort when Carol jumped in. "Dustin, whatever you're thinking, stop. Look at him, he didn't get those muscles in the weight room. He's also done two tours of combat, so he knows how to hurt and kill people. Probably wouldn't bother him to take you apart and put you back together again a foot shorter. Maybe you'd like to sit at the bar while he and Cin talk? Come on, Becca and I will keep you company." They led him off, complaining. Cin plopped down and just looked at me for about three minutes before speaking.

"The worst thing about people spoiling you is it works. I know I'm arrogant and a total control freak. I know I can't stand to be told no. But, Jess, I'm a good person. I'm in college damn it, surely you know I can learn. Can we start over?"

I sat, considering. She was one of those people that couldn't appreciate silence, so she started again.

"I'm sorry about the other night. I'll admit, I've never gone without sex so long since I entered college. I've been brainwashed into thinking I was a great gift, and should be appreciated as such. I know I'm just a girl. A pretty girl, but there are plenty of prettier, better built, smarter, more understanding girls around. Becca and Carol, for instance. They've made no secret that if we're really through they were interested.

But they'll never love you like I do, Jess. They'll never melt the way I do when you touch them. If you want to wait, I'll wait. You set the pace. I'll follow."

...

Ninety minutes later we broke her bed. We rode it down, laughing. I even kept stroking because she was almost there, again. We finally collapsed together, the bed sagging around us.

"Sorry, babe," I said, lightly stroking a nipple on her small, muscled breast. There wasn't an ounce of fat on her anywhere. "I'll buy us a new one tomorrow. A new suite, if you want. Think the store would let us stress test it first?"

She raised up over me, her long hair falling into my face. Her expression was unreadable.

"Us? A suite?"

I brushed her hair back so she could see my face and know I was serious. "Yes babe. Us. You know I stay with my grandmother when I'm home. I live in an RV most of the time, so it doesn't make any since to waste money on an apartment or house. So what I'm asking, in an incredibly awkward and roundabout way, is if you'd like to live together."

She cried, but I'm pretty sure there was a yes in there somewhere. We got up, took the broken bed apart, and slept on the mattress that night, when we slept. It seemed she liked traditional furniture, picking a massive oak, four poster bed, even insisted we bounce up and down on it a few times, while the saleswoman blushed and grinned.

Four months later she wanted to see where we were heading. They didn't win nationals that year. She blamed it on me, saying I took her away from extra practice and kept her energy levels drained.

She was due to graduate, and had a very attractive offer to join a seasoned professional on the beach volleyball circuit.

It paid fairly well, but she explained the money was more in the endorsements, personal appearances, and television. She wanted to do it for three years, to save enough to continue her schooling all the way through the PhD level.

After several long talks, we decided the most sensible thing was to get married. She actually fainted when I popped the question and gave her the ring.

We decided to wait until after her first year on the circuit to marry. I was hoping by then she'd have enough and quit to concentrate on her schooling. I could afford to pay for it. She came from a single parent home and her father couldn't afford to help her.

We spent a glorious month together. She traveled with me from job site to job site, experiencing the cities we were in while I worked, then concentrating on keeping me drained and weak every night. For the first time in my life I struggled to lift the larger rocks. My crew snickered and told me if I slacked up on after hours exercise I'd get my strength back.

"That's why I pay you flunkies, to do the heavy lifting. No way I'm giving up my exercise program. Now, get those rocks over here."

...

It really sucked when she left. She clung to me and cried like a baby. I had to almost pry her off me so she could make the plane. It was really hard because I didn't want her to go.

"If you don't like it honey, come on home. You know I have the money for your schooling, so you don't have to worry."

She sighed and hugged me tighter. "All my life people have taken care of me. My Dad. Then the school. Now you. Just once, I need to prove I can take care of myself. Besides, I signed a contract. I HAVE to do this season."

I didn't like it, but I understood.

The first year was rough for both of us. She did really well, she and her partner were first runner up in the points standings. As they won more, their money increased. I watched her on television, and really didn't care for the almost thongs they wore.

"It's in the contract, honey. The maker has offered us an advertising campaign because of our popularity. It's a nice number honey. You don't mind, do you?"

How could I not support her? It took time away from us but we dealt with it. It got to the point we were only together about once a month for three days. I was counting the days until the end of the season.

She came home, and we tried to make up for lost time. Mom was hinting around about grandchildren, seems my sister and I had something in common. We both liked girls. That explained why she hung out with us so much, she was looking to hook up with some of Cindy's friends. Two of her teammates were gay, and another was openly bisexual. Beck managed to hook up once, but they parted because neither was wanting to settle down. She eventually found a nice, quiet girl, and they married. Besides nagging me, after she got over Becky's choice, Mom started hinting to her to either adopt or go invitro. They were thinking about it.

After four glorious weeks, she became moody. I took it as long as I could before I confronted her.

"What's going on, Cin? Don't try to blow me off, we're going to sit right here until you tell me. "

She hemmed and hawed around a bit before she told me. "I signed a contract for another season. They've doubled our money, and the exposure is worth a lot more. I'm sorry honey, but I have to do this, for me. Please don't be mad."

I wasn't mad, I was furious. We bickered away most of the time before she left.

"Why can't you be more supportive? Just this year. I swear to you."

"I am supportive. All last year. You made promises then, remember? So much for your word if money is involved, I guess."

Wrong thing to say. She went into a screaming fit. I only half listened to the rant, and about ten minutes in she realized I wasn't hanging on every word. She stopped immediately. In a quiet voice she tried again.

"I guess I deserved that. Tell you what, I'll write up a contract. If I don't stop next year the marriage is off. Please, Bandit, this really means a lot to me."

I just looked at her. "A contract isn't necessary. If you don't stop next year, I walk away. Do you understand?"

She paled a little and made a bunch of promises. Promises she didn't keep.

...

They did even better at the start of the next year. Her partner, Jan, called, thanking me for letting her play.

"This is my last year on the tour, so unless she finds a new partner she's done too. I plan to teach, already got a job lined up as a high school math teacher and volleyball coach in a little town in California. I've always been a beach girl. Maybe I'll find a nice quiet guy and get married again. Then again, if we had an agreement like you guys, maybe I'd still be married."