Underground yet again: stocks and bonds
On a pleasant late-winter evening in St Louis, Henry arrived on the Texas Eagle and checked into the Chase Park Plaza hotel for the annual conference of the Society of Electron and Atomic Physics. The next evening, after the first day’s sessions, he went to the reception in quest of nooky. ‘Bloody typical for this millennium,’ he thought, ‘I find myself the best-dressed male here, but it’s good to see that the female contingent is starting to dress properly. Everybody was in blue jeans in my student days. Now, it’s just the lads.’ After exchanging glances with several ladies whom he had met at previous meetings, most engaged in conversations with others, he noticed a possible target: a female graduate student, standing by herself (apparently shy at her first scientific conference) who was dressed carefully in a sleeveless dark green dress that did not obscure her shape but was appropriately modest for a serious occasion. He recognized her from a late-morning paper presentation: “Hello! I’m Henry from Chicago.” “Erika—pleased to meet you.” “Of course. I heard your paper this morning on anomalous chemical bonds. Most interesting!” She blushed and extended her hand for a handshake. With old-school courtesy, he bowed and kissed two fingers delicately. This increased the incandescence of her blush, which complemented her beauty: tall, with Scandinavian genes, short blonde hair, an athletic body, and intelligent blue eyes. “Your nametag reminds me that you are studying at the University of Nebraska. I’m retired from the private sector in Chicago.” “It must be nice to be in the big city” she replied. “I’ve been out in the plains all my life. I could tell you were urban from the well-tailored suit.” “I should welcome you to the Big Ten, although my mathematical training does not admit twelve as the cardinal number. My alma mater helped found that organization, but outgrew it long before the arithmetic failed.” (He noticed that she seemed to follow his obscure references—‘Good, so far!’ he thought, ‘and nice tits!’)
After a few comments to show that he had, in fact, paid attention to her paper, he invited her to dinner to continue their discussion. A few blocks away, at a quiet French restaurant near Forest Park, he mentioned his extensive foreign travels, then shifted the conversation to her. “I must confess that, except for Omaha and North Platte, I have neglected Nebraska in my travels. Amtrak crosses the state in the wee small hours in both directions, but I did catch a spectacular Midwestern thunderstorm from the dome car one summer night. What do you do in Lincoln when not studying?” he asked. “Lincoln is not so dull as you may think,” she replied. “Although some of us may be rural locals, growing up in farm country leaves us with few illusions about the natural world. Living near livestock is good preparation for understanding human society. And, the student ghetto in Lincoln is rather depraved.” Henry listened patiently, flattering her with his quiet attention.
Two glasses into dinner, he started again: “So, ‘anomalous bonds’—how does that relate to other forms of bondage?” She did not answer immediately, but neither did she flinch at the question. “Covalent bonds result from sharing electrons—would that be considered ‘power exchange’?” she replied quietly, after considering his question carefully. “This is going well”, he thought, and continued with a description of an artistic shibari session he had witnessed in Tokyo a few years earlier. He pushed the analogy further by describing the symmetric and asymmetric rope ties as reminiscent of quantum-mechanical orbitals. By this time, they both had the presence of mind to recognize their descent into absurdity, but they also had drunk enough wine to giggle about it. Henry again raised her hand and kissed it, not quite so delicately as before. She set down her silverware and shifted closer to him. Not pressing his suit too early, he contented himself with a kiss on her cheek, as she dropped one shoe and rubbed his lower leg with her toes.
He walked her back to her hotel, promising to meet her the next day at the end of the conference. That night, she joined him in his deluxe hotel room, and he gently made love to her without initiating anything frightening. She found it easy to acquiesce, since he was so polite and never pressed her hard. He found her easy.
A month later, she visited the University of Chicago for a day to attend a seminar, and Henry treated her to dinner downtown before she flew back to Lincoln. After a few drinks, he steered their conversation again to bondage, and Henry found that Erica did have some experience and more interest. She had not yet decided between roles, and considered herself a switch. Before she left Chicago, she had accepted an invitation to his infamous club for spring break. He sent her a first-class round trip ticket on the Zephyr between Lincoln and Chicago.
On Friday afternoon, after checking into the fancy Marriott on Adams St, he opened his suitcase, unpacked his tuxedo to hang out, and walked over to Union Station to meet Erica’s incoming train. It was a pleasant day, so they made the short walk back to the hotel and he escorted her up to his luxury suite. He had informed her of the club’s dress code when he invited her, and she had prepared a suitable ensemble. Henry sat down in the comfy chair. At his request, she slowly removed her travel clothes, carried them to the closet, returned nude, and carefully unpacked the evening’s wear. When she bent over to open her suitcase, Henry had to suppress a sigh of pleasure. She had brought the following:
• Baby blue frilly brassiere.
• Matching baby blue thong.
• Navy blue knee socks.
• Black patent-leather Mary Jane shoes.
• Dark blue velvet ribbon necklace with cameo closure.
• Navy blue opera-length gloves.
Standing naked before him, she held out first the bra, and then the thong, in front of her for his approval. At his nod, Erica then carefully arranged all the items on the bed. He used the facilities first, then waited politely for her to shower after her twelve hour train trip. During her shower, he unpacked a small zipper case from his suitcase, along with his tuxedo accessories, dress shoes, and travel kit. He ordered a light dinner and champagne from room service, and closed the door between the parlor and bedroom before the waiter arrived.
Henry sat back in the chair, pleased with his choice, and calibrated his new initiate. ‘Not overly nervous, definitely consenting. A bit more anxiety in the young lady would have been exciting, however,’ he thought as she came out of the bathroom butt-naked (except for a towel around her hair), glowing from her shower. She walked boldly over to him, held the towel behind her head, and kissed him deeply. He helped her into his lap, where she noticed activity under his summer-weight wool trousers, and kissed her back.
The waiter buzzed and Henry left the bedroom to admit him. They set up dinner on the parlor table; Henry tipped him and set the do-not-disturb sign. He removed his suit jacket and tie, and walked into the bedroom to announce dinner. Her short hair had dried quickly (both sets) and she remained nude at the table, placing the towel on the seat before he did his chivalrous duty with her chair. She indulged in a bit of footsie as he stood to pour champagne. ‘So far, so good,’ he thought as he seated himself and they started on the asparagus.
After dinner, he allowed her to assist him into his tuxedo, fastening the studs for him. She put her scanty things on for the evening, and he helped her into the trench coat that she would wear over to the Monadnock building. With the coat, knee socks, and Mary Janes, she was street-legal for the short stroll through the Loop, down Adams to Dearborn to Jackson. He put on his own raincoat and hat, and remembered to pick up the small case before they left the room. They arrived at the north entrance at a fashionable time and took the private elevator down to the club.
On a pleasant late-winter evening in St Louis, Henry arrived on the Texas Eagle and checked into the Chase Park Plaza hotel for the annual conference of the Society of Electron and Atomic Physics. The next evening, after the first day’s sessions, he went to the reception in quest of nooky. ‘Bloody typical for this millennium,’ he thought, ‘I find myself the best-dressed male here, but it’s good to see that the female contingent is starting to dress properly. Everybody was in blue jeans in my student days. Now, it’s just the lads.’ After exchanging glances with several ladies whom he had met at previous meetings, most engaged in conversations with others, he noticed a possible target: a female graduate student, standing by herself (apparently shy at her first scientific conference) who was dressed carefully in a sleeveless dark green dress that did not obscure her shape but was appropriately modest for a serious occasion. He recognized her from a late-morning paper presentation: “Hello! I’m Henry from Chicago.” “Erika—pleased to meet you.” “Of course. I heard your paper this morning on anomalous chemical bonds. Most interesting!” She blushed and extended her hand for a handshake. With old-school courtesy, he bowed and kissed two fingers delicately. This increased the incandescence of her blush, which complemented her beauty: tall, with Scandinavian genes, short blonde hair, an athletic body, and intelligent blue eyes. “Your nametag reminds me that you are studying at the University of Nebraska. I’m retired from the private sector in Chicago.” “It must be nice to be in the big city” she replied. “I’ve been out in the plains all my life. I could tell you were urban from the well-tailored suit.” “I should welcome you to the Big Ten, although my mathematical training does not admit twelve as the cardinal number. My alma mater helped found that organization, but outgrew it long before the arithmetic failed.” (He noticed that she seemed to follow his obscure references—‘Good, so far!’ he thought, ‘and nice tits!’)
After a few comments to show that he had, in fact, paid attention to her paper, he invited her to dinner to continue their discussion. A few blocks away, at a quiet French restaurant near Forest Park, he mentioned his extensive foreign travels, then shifted the conversation to her. “I must confess that, except for Omaha and North Platte, I have neglected Nebraska in my travels. Amtrak crosses the state in the wee small hours in both directions, but I did catch a spectacular Midwestern thunderstorm from the dome car one summer night. What do you do in Lincoln when not studying?” he asked. “Lincoln is not so dull as you may think,” she replied. “Although some of us may be rural locals, growing up in farm country leaves us with few illusions about the natural world. Living near livestock is good preparation for understanding human society. And, the student ghetto in Lincoln is rather depraved.” Henry listened patiently, flattering her with his quiet attention.
Two glasses into dinner, he started again: “So, ‘anomalous bonds’—how does that relate to other forms of bondage?” She did not answer immediately, but neither did she flinch at the question. “Covalent bonds result from sharing electrons—would that be considered ‘power exchange’?” she replied quietly, after considering his question carefully. “This is going well”, he thought, and continued with a description of an artistic shibari session he had witnessed in Tokyo a few years earlier. He pushed the analogy further by describing the symmetric and asymmetric rope ties as reminiscent of quantum-mechanical orbitals. By this time, they both had the presence of mind to recognize their descent into absurdity, but they also had drunk enough wine to giggle about it. Henry again raised her hand and kissed it, not quite so delicately as before. She set down her silverware and shifted closer to him. Not pressing his suit too early, he contented himself with a kiss on her cheek, as she dropped one shoe and rubbed his lower leg with her toes.
He walked her back to her hotel, promising to meet her the next day at the end of the conference. That night, she joined him in his deluxe hotel room, and he gently made love to her without initiating anything frightening. She found it easy to acquiesce, since he was so polite and never pressed her hard. He found her easy.
A month later, she visited the University of Chicago for a day to attend a seminar, and Henry treated her to dinner downtown before she flew back to Lincoln. After a few drinks, he steered their conversation again to bondage, and Henry found that Erica did have some experience and more interest. She had not yet decided between roles, and considered herself a switch. Before she left Chicago, she had accepted an invitation to his infamous club for spring break. He sent her a first-class round trip ticket on the Zephyr between Lincoln and Chicago.
On Friday afternoon, after checking into the fancy Marriott on Adams St, he opened his suitcase, unpacked his tuxedo to hang out, and walked over to Union Station to meet Erica’s incoming train. It was a pleasant day, so they made the short walk back to the hotel and he escorted her up to his luxury suite. He had informed her of the club’s dress code when he invited her, and she had prepared a suitable ensemble. Henry sat down in the comfy chair. At his request, she slowly removed her travel clothes, carried them to the closet, returned nude, and carefully unpacked the evening’s wear. When she bent over to open her suitcase, Henry had to suppress a sigh of pleasure. She had brought the following:
• Baby blue frilly brassiere.
• Matching baby blue thong.
• Navy blue knee socks.
• Black patent-leather Mary Jane shoes.
• Dark blue velvet ribbon necklace with cameo closure.
• Navy blue opera-length gloves.
Standing naked before him, she held out first the bra, and then the thong, in front of her for his approval. At his nod, Erica then carefully arranged all the items on the bed. He used the facilities first, then waited politely for her to shower after her twelve hour train trip. During her shower, he unpacked a small zipper case from his suitcase, along with his tuxedo accessories, dress shoes, and travel kit. He ordered a light dinner and champagne from room service, and closed the door between the parlor and bedroom before the waiter arrived.
Henry sat back in the chair, pleased with his choice, and calibrated his new initiate. ‘Not overly nervous, definitely consenting. A bit more anxiety in the young lady would have been exciting, however,’ he thought as she came out of the bathroom butt-naked (except for a towel around her hair), glowing from her shower. She walked boldly over to him, held the towel behind her head, and kissed him deeply. He helped her into his lap, where she noticed activity under his summer-weight wool trousers, and kissed her back.
The waiter buzzed and Henry left the bedroom to admit him. They set up dinner on the parlor table; Henry tipped him and set the do-not-disturb sign. He removed his suit jacket and tie, and walked into the bedroom to announce dinner. Her short hair had dried quickly (both sets) and she remained nude at the table, placing the towel on the seat before he did his chivalrous duty with her chair. She indulged in a bit of footsie as he stood to pour champagne. ‘So far, so good,’ he thought as he seated himself and they started on the asparagus.
After dinner, he allowed her to assist him into his tuxedo, fastening the studs for him. She put her scanty things on for the evening, and he helped her into the trench coat that she would wear over to the Monadnock building. With the coat, knee socks, and Mary Janes, she was street-legal for the short stroll through the Loop, down Adams to Dearborn to Jackson. He put on his own raincoat and hat, and remembered to pick up the small case before they left the room. They arrived at the north entrance at a fashionable time and took the private elevator down to the club.
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