~FFA, ~BHM, Romance - An innocent young FFA runs into her first serious BHM
I - The Wrong Set of Defenses
Just as the pre-heaving started, Evelyne was able to pull over into the small parking lot, cut the engine and jump out of the car, gulping fresh air, managing to somehow calm her protesting stomach again. She had another 300 miles to drive to reach that remote resort, to attend a week of presentation training, so she could continue working for the agency to finance her way through grad school. No matter what, she had to get there, somehow sit her way through this week and at least pass the assessment.
Despite having missed the initial training she had been scheduled for over a year ago, the agency had started to let her do some of the new programs because she had her foreign language skills in her favor – and the fact that she was a young woman, the perfect match for the new target groups they were expanding into. But now, her friend, mentor and supervisor Katherine – who ran the new international programs section – had told her there was no longer a way around her attending the missing last presentation training, she could not give her any further assignments until she had completed the course. Calling in sick was not an option.
After having half way calmed down, having had a few sips of water, Evelyne got back in the car and drove on; stomach flu or no stomach flu she had to survive this week, where else was she going to get another job that paid $500 per assignment day to a grad student? But with every mile she was getting closer, she felt queasier, the cold dread in her mounting, her hands and feet turning to ice despite 88°F.
Ever since she had missed the original presentation training for all the members of her international and women’s programs group because of Lyme disease, she had been trying to get around it – mainly because of the disastrous reputation of the trainer, Stuart Pratton. All her friends and project collaborators had told her horrible stories about how their training had gone; Pratton letting less than half the other members of her project team pass only after the board had intervened. Evelyne also knew that Katherine and Pratton despised each other; her being Katherine’s protégée wouldn’t make things easier. She’d try to lay low, be as inconspicuous as possible, hope she could survive on her knowledge from working on the international project team.
Stopping three more times to rest Evelyne finally made it to Ashtonbury Park around 4 pm – only to be surprised by its beauty. On hearing where the training was to be held, she had cursed the remote location more than once – but now, seeing the large compound of the former antebellum plantation, refurbished in excellent taste overlooking a small lake, she thought at least the surroundings were as pleasant as can be for a week in July.
Her spirits immediately dropped as she opened the folder she received on checking in: There were altogether 12 participants at the training – only three women and she was the only one of them under 50. Of the men, only one was under 30 – he seemed to be from the agency’s subsidiary that did church work; far off from her own line, making Evelyne feel even more miserable.
“You must be Evelyne, nice to meet you,” a friendly voice said next to her; she turned to look levelly into soft brown eyes behind small framed glasses, a gentle smile, shook the outstretched hand.
“How do you know my name?” Evelyne was bewildered, feeling nausea rise in her again.
“Well, you have our training folder in your hand – there are only three women on the list. Taking the non-chivalrous age-component into consideration, it had to be you,” her counter-part smilingly explained, only to have worry wipe across his face almost immediately. “Are you okay? You look like you are not feeling well. Is there anything I can do for you?”
Taking a deep breath, Evelyne shook her head. “It’s okay, thank you. Nice to meet you, too. May I in turn ask who you are?”
“Sorry, David Grapeton,“ he responded. “But are you sure you’re fine? You’re so pale you look almost green in the face. Would you like something to drink?”
“That would be nice. You’re right, I’m not feeling great; I’m just recovering from some summer stomach bug,” letting herself be lead over to a small sofa.
David motioned her to sit down, left, only to come back with a pitcher and two glasses. “I arrived early today, made myself some peppermint tea and chilled it – no ice, no sugar, that should do you good.” He poured her a glass.
Evelyne drank a few sips, quickly checking her folder – there he was: David Grapeton, manager-to-be of the agency’s office in Jakarta. As David settled across from her, she checked him out discreetly – rather short, only her own height of 5’8’, with a slim, almost delicate build. Most astounding about him was the incredibly friendly, caring and relaxed attitude he conveyed.
“David, this is really nice; it’s also very helpful in calming my stomach. Thank you so much – but how did you know I just needed this? You don’t know me at all.”
“Well, I could see from how pale you were that you’re not feeling well,” David shrugged slightly. “Also – I had time to read through the folder, I’m interested in talking to you, because I’ll be heading an international office of the agency, while you are on the new in-coming programs team of the international department, we should compare notes. And I have to admit, I feel a bit sorry for you. You’re by far the youngest here, the only young woman, that’s not going to be so easy … and seeing you looking so visibly ill…..”
“Wow, you probably are the most observant and considerate man I have ever met,” Evelyne laughed lightly, feeling much better instantly. “What you will be doing, opening up the new office in Jakarta, also sounds incredibly interesting. Do you believe in instant friendship?”
“That’s something I honestly think we can work on in the next days,” David smiled. “Now let me help you carry your bags to your room so you can rest a bit before our first meeting before dinner.”
***
On her way to the first meeting, Evelyne noticed her room was probably the furthest away from the main building and its meeting rooms; she had to walk along an endless corridor-like porch, the uncomfortable feeling of fear – physically palpable in welling nausea and icy cold streaming into her extremities – rising with every step closer she got. As she entered, she was overwhelmed with relief as the first person she saw was David Grapeton, who waved her over to his side of the tables, gestured her to sit on the chair he had saved next to him, handing her another glass of the soothing cool peppermint tea.
Evelyne settled with a grateful smile, as David introduced her to Eileen, a motherly looking woman nearing 60, who patted her shoulder on greeting. “Evelyne, it’s so good to meet you, Katherine at headquarters told me to keep an eye on you, told me you are her best young talent. Don’t you worry, I used to work in the same department as Stuart Pratton, I know how to handle him – I’ll make sure he doesn’t hurt you.”
“Eileen, so nice to meet you. I can’t say how grateful I already am to you David for taking such good care of me. I don’t know anybody here – but somehow everybody seems to know me … even better, wants to take care of me,” Evelyne was overwhelmed.
David showed a small grin. “Well, no surprise there, you are something like the white raven in this group….” making Evelyne realize that this might be the easiest approach to surviving the week – taking on the role of the innocent, slightly helpless baby of the group, letting everybody pamper her.
A door closed noisily, the room hushed as a gruff voice said, “Good afternoon everyone. Welcome to the agency’s presentation skills training!”
Her eyes widening in disbelief Evelyne had to bite her under lip to keep her mouth from falling open in surprise. Nobody had warned her of the immense physical presence of Stuart Pratton. Not overtly tall at barely 6’, he was extremely powerfully built with heavy shoulders, strong arms and massive wrists showing out of his rolled up shirt sleeves. A wide bull’s chest gave way to an enormous round barrel shaped belly, the oversized upper body supported by thick legs, planted sturdily apart increasing the entire air of command he issued.
Evelyne had to stare – at the impressive belly overhang, smoothly encased in a blue-and-white striped shirt pushing belt and waistband down. In the rear were thick love-handles forcing their way over the same belt. It took her a while before she could actually concentrate on his facial features, not sure if they could seriously be called attractive. Without doubt they were very strong, masculine softened only by the plump flesh of his cheeks and neck – looming dark grey eyes, sensuous lips seemingly well practiced in tasting the pleasures of life and a shock of unruly blond hair.
Pratton must have been talking for about five minutes before Evelyne was able to focus on what he was saying. It turned out to be the regular agency introduction speech she had heard already at least a dozen times, so she hadn’t missed anything. Alone his voice – deep, almost something of a growl to it – sent shivers down her spine, as did watching his belly sway in rhythm with his love-handles moving up and down over a plump but unspectacular backside as he walked back and forth in front of the group.
“Wow, he sure has gotten fat again since his last divorce,” Eileen mumbled next to her, sending tingles between Evelyne’s thighs. She felt like she had somehow entered into the dark theater at the movies, but what she now saw on the screen had nothing to do with the plot she had been prepared for. Instead of encountering a revolting, disagreeable, mean, scheming man she had every reason to be afraid of, she found herself in the situation of having to suppress intensive feelings of physical lust, completely forgetting how queasy she had felt all day to be drawn to her trainer and examiner by sheer big animal magnetism.
“Evelyne, get yourself a sheet of paper for writing your poster,” Stuart Pratton’s low growl came from above where he stood in front of her desk startling Evelyne, who realized she had been staring at his belly in awe.
In automatic mode, she batted her eye-lids and pouted a bit in looking up. “Yes?”
A somewhat wolfish, knowing grin crept across Stuart’s face, patting his belly. “You did get the message that you are supposed to do a poster introduction of yourself, why you are here at this training, following the pattern I wrote down over there?”
“Oh yes! I’ll try,” Evelyne was saved in this moment by David, who handed her paper and some markers.
“I got these for you to save you the trouble. Would you like any other colors as markers?”
“No, thank you so much David, you’re great,” giving him her most dazzling smile while Stuart retreated smirking.
Evelyne set to work, this was easy – her handwriting was a natural asset, she was good in structuring her thoughts and doing convincing imagery, even though her actual drawing skills were poor. Starting out by doing her poster horizontally instead of vertically as the assignment suggested, then opting for a summery scene – her life as a sail boat, the waves as her experiences, the clouds her ideas about working for the agency and the sun as the ultimate goal – to introduce herself.
Stuart walked by the desks, looking at their work stopping at Evelyne’s just as she was about finished, shaking his head. “That’s not good!” before calling out, “Time is up! Who wants to go first? Introduce themselves officially.”
Evelyne was shocked, the cold fear that had retreated in the past half hour, giving way to much warmer physical sensations, roared back, leaving her feeling miserable – so it was just as bad as everybody had always told her.
David patted her arm reassuringly. “He probably needs new glasses, yours is great, look at mine!” Being left-handed – he had a horrible scrawl, had labored tediously at it. Still his poster looked a mess. Eileen glowered at Stuart mumbling to Evelyne. “I’m here just for fun, I have nothing to lose – I’ll give him a telling off later in private to make sure he isn’t so mean to you anymore.”
Still Evelyne felt awful, only wanted to see the session end, lie down on her bed to cry. The first two who had presented themselves were Edgar, a self-important 30-something candidate for one of the agency’s new Latin America offices, and Marek, an amusing Pole from Poznan who was to run the new Warsaw office and spoke the most entertaining English. To get it over with, Evelyne raised her hand to go next, but Stuart turned her down, calling on Eileen. The same happened with the next two presenters; as she raised her hand for the fourth time, Stuart half barked at her, “Evelyne, you have to wait. It’s not your turn yet!”
By now, Evelyne was on the brink of tears – half scared, half defiantly angry. Maybe she was biased, but so far none of the posters had been as good as hers. Admittedly Stuart gave methodical, constructive but thoroughly professional, not personally insulting feed-back to everyone – even though some were so poor Evelyne was surprised grown professionals dared offer such a presentation. Finally, everyone except Evelyne had presented, so Stuart nodded at her to take the floor. She hung her poster on the board, squared her shoulders went through her presentation, finishing with a deep breath and taking her seat again, not looking up anymore.
A short clapping made her start and raise her head, looking around, catching Stuart’s friendly amused gaze on her. “That was not good – that was perfect. A clear image, well-structured, perfectly legible – everybody in this room, will always remember you as the woman who sees her life as a sail boat. Sorry I made you wait, but I knew if you were one of the first, nobody would pay any more attention to my individual feedback to their presentations, only make a mental note to copy yours the next time. There is such a thing as a too good example. But now it’s time for dinner – at least I’m starving!” giving his belly a resounding slap.
Going weak with relief, Evelyne suddenly noticed she was incredibly hungry herself.
A long dinner table was set up in the converted barn, half open now in summer time with a delicious looking buffet. Eileen made sure Evelyne settled next to her right next to the head of the table, Edgar took the seat across from her with David on Evelyne’s other side. As Stuart arrived, he sat down at the head of the table with a plate piled high with appetizers. Eyeing the buffet Evelyne nevertheless was worried what she could stomach, not wanting to get sick again, so she stuck to a bit of rice and steamed vegetables.
On seeing her plate, Stuart grimaced in disgust. “Don’t tell me you’re one of those health food, diet-talk ladies!”
With a small laugh, Evelyne indicating at her well-proportioned size 12 curves, shook her head. “No way, normally I’m a serious foodie, I love to cook, bake and eat. Right now my stomach could be in better shape, so I’m just being careful, to be sure I’ll be alright for the rest of the week, make the most of it.”
“Good to hear first impressions were correct impressions,” Stuart’s eyes appreciatively raked her cleavage, well displayed in a summery fitted peasant style blouse, shoveling in two more appetizers before letting out a laugh. “Oh, so you’re the one from the new team who got sick every time she was supposed to come to my training! I was starting to take it personally! See, now you’re here - and there is nothing to be afraid of, is there?” his voice becoming low, intimate towards the end, giving Evelyne a deep look, locking eyes.
“No, there probably isn’t. I think I’ll be fine,” Evelyne blushed, returned his look as long as she dared hold it. An electrical shock swooping down her spine causing serious damage in her lower regions.
Eileen saved her further embarrassment by wrapping her arm protectively around Evelyne’s shoulder. “Stuart’s a classic case of worse bark than bite, dear. You don’t have to be afraid – we’ll look after you. Still, Stuart, keeping Evelyne hanging out on a limb during the whole presentation was not nice of you. She’s too young for such games,” she chided him.
“That’s a very interesting question Eileen, which age is the right age for which type of games,” Stuart leered at Evelyne on getting up for a second plate from the buffet, who only found herself suddenly being fawned over by Edgar which irritated her immensely, so she turned to David to question him about his family.
Towards the end of the meal, Evelyne did feel a dessert craving thinking she could clearly give it a try if her body asked for it. As she had got up, Stuart called after her, “Evelyne, can you do me a favor, get me a plate of dessert – I feel too heavy now to get up and do it myself?”
Seeing him mockingly try to lift his belly, Evelyne was wildly turned on. “My greatest pleasure! What would you like, any preferences?”
Cocking his eyebrow, Stuart shook his head. “I fully trust your good taste!”
Quickly getting some slices of fresh peach and a cookie for herself, she grabbed a dinner not a dessert plate, assembling and arranging an abundant dessert still life on it, placing it in front of Stuart with the sweetest of smiles. “Enjoy!”
He grinned with delight, while Eileen reproached her. “I know you mean well, Evelyne, but Stuart doesn’t need extra feeding. Look at him! How much weight have you put on again since your divorce? You really have to watch it!”
“There are other times and places to discuss those details, Eileen,” Stuart brushed it off, slapping his belly. “I’m in good shape again since my divorce, you’re right. Let me remind you of ground rule number one – no diet talk during meals. It’s good to see Evelyne here has the right attitude: The more the merrier, the bigger the better, eh Evelyne?” licking chocolate mousse of his spoon in slow motion.
Giggling, Evelyne couldn’t help responding, “I think I can agree with the general tendency!”
The evening ran late, because Evelyne couldn’t resist staying up with Eileen, Marek and Stuart hearing stories about the early days of the agency. Eileen and Stuart walked her to her room, since they both were staying in small cabins even further away from the main building. Eileen hugged her good night. “Sleep well, hope you’re fully recovered in the morning.”
Stuart with a smirk wrapped his arm heavily around her, pulled her into his fleshy side. “Yeah, make sure to get that appetite back. Sweet dreams!”
Exhausted, dizzy, turned on, guilty, worried, delighted – Evelyne’s feelings were stumbling over each other incoherently as she collapsed on the bed in her room. Oh God, why hadn’t anybody warned her Stuart Pratton was a big boldly confident bear who could instantly push all her buttons into overdrive?
All her friends had warned her about all sorts of things, how fussy he was about assignments, how high his standards were, how critical and cruel his feedback could be, how disgusting he was, how horrible his reputation as a three times divorced womanizer was, how mean he was in using his influence in the agency …. Blah, blah, blah.
All completely irrelevant, if not to say misleading information! It had made her build up her defenses at the completely wrong side – leaving her weakness for big men as a wide open flank he could take in a leisurely storm, making her fall for him hard. Why hadn’t any of her idiot friends thought about that? Oh right, they weren’t aware of her private obsessions.
All they knew of was of her 2-year college dating relationship with Damian, even though she had always had a crush on his chubby little brother Jason. Damian had fulfilled the criteria for presentable boyfriend, even wanted to marry her after college, but Evelyne was slightly bored by him, overtime suffering more and more from their physical incompatibility, being increasingly repulsed by his scrawny body and clumsy love-making.
They hadn’t known Bradley, her first boyfriend, whom she had dated for 3 years in high school, a skinny kid who discovered his appetite making him gain 80 pounds during their time together as she perfected her cooking skills with him as a taste-tester. Despite being on a classic case of puppy love, it had taught Evelyne what kind of man she physically desired.
Now she was here, for a whole week, lustily shivering every time she looked at Stuart’s big inviting belly, fantasizing about those powerful hands raking her body, those sensuous lips devouring her instead of dessert – what was she going to do? Well at least for tomorrow she knew she would have to rebuild a completely different set of defenses ….....
Training Courses
by agouderia
by agouderia
I - The Wrong Set of Defenses
Just as the pre-heaving started, Evelyne was able to pull over into the small parking lot, cut the engine and jump out of the car, gulping fresh air, managing to somehow calm her protesting stomach again. She had another 300 miles to drive to reach that remote resort, to attend a week of presentation training, so she could continue working for the agency to finance her way through grad school. No matter what, she had to get there, somehow sit her way through this week and at least pass the assessment.
Despite having missed the initial training she had been scheduled for over a year ago, the agency had started to let her do some of the new programs because she had her foreign language skills in her favor – and the fact that she was a young woman, the perfect match for the new target groups they were expanding into. But now, her friend, mentor and supervisor Katherine – who ran the new international programs section – had told her there was no longer a way around her attending the missing last presentation training, she could not give her any further assignments until she had completed the course. Calling in sick was not an option.
After having half way calmed down, having had a few sips of water, Evelyne got back in the car and drove on; stomach flu or no stomach flu she had to survive this week, where else was she going to get another job that paid $500 per assignment day to a grad student? But with every mile she was getting closer, she felt queasier, the cold dread in her mounting, her hands and feet turning to ice despite 88°F.
Ever since she had missed the original presentation training for all the members of her international and women’s programs group because of Lyme disease, she had been trying to get around it – mainly because of the disastrous reputation of the trainer, Stuart Pratton. All her friends and project collaborators had told her horrible stories about how their training had gone; Pratton letting less than half the other members of her project team pass only after the board had intervened. Evelyne also knew that Katherine and Pratton despised each other; her being Katherine’s protégée wouldn’t make things easier. She’d try to lay low, be as inconspicuous as possible, hope she could survive on her knowledge from working on the international project team.
Stopping three more times to rest Evelyne finally made it to Ashtonbury Park around 4 pm – only to be surprised by its beauty. On hearing where the training was to be held, she had cursed the remote location more than once – but now, seeing the large compound of the former antebellum plantation, refurbished in excellent taste overlooking a small lake, she thought at least the surroundings were as pleasant as can be for a week in July.
Her spirits immediately dropped as she opened the folder she received on checking in: There were altogether 12 participants at the training – only three women and she was the only one of them under 50. Of the men, only one was under 30 – he seemed to be from the agency’s subsidiary that did church work; far off from her own line, making Evelyne feel even more miserable.
“You must be Evelyne, nice to meet you,” a friendly voice said next to her; she turned to look levelly into soft brown eyes behind small framed glasses, a gentle smile, shook the outstretched hand.
“How do you know my name?” Evelyne was bewildered, feeling nausea rise in her again.
“Well, you have our training folder in your hand – there are only three women on the list. Taking the non-chivalrous age-component into consideration, it had to be you,” her counter-part smilingly explained, only to have worry wipe across his face almost immediately. “Are you okay? You look like you are not feeling well. Is there anything I can do for you?”
Taking a deep breath, Evelyne shook her head. “It’s okay, thank you. Nice to meet you, too. May I in turn ask who you are?”
“Sorry, David Grapeton,“ he responded. “But are you sure you’re fine? You’re so pale you look almost green in the face. Would you like something to drink?”
“That would be nice. You’re right, I’m not feeling great; I’m just recovering from some summer stomach bug,” letting herself be lead over to a small sofa.
David motioned her to sit down, left, only to come back with a pitcher and two glasses. “I arrived early today, made myself some peppermint tea and chilled it – no ice, no sugar, that should do you good.” He poured her a glass.
Evelyne drank a few sips, quickly checking her folder – there he was: David Grapeton, manager-to-be of the agency’s office in Jakarta. As David settled across from her, she checked him out discreetly – rather short, only her own height of 5’8’, with a slim, almost delicate build. Most astounding about him was the incredibly friendly, caring and relaxed attitude he conveyed.
“David, this is really nice; it’s also very helpful in calming my stomach. Thank you so much – but how did you know I just needed this? You don’t know me at all.”
“Well, I could see from how pale you were that you’re not feeling well,” David shrugged slightly. “Also – I had time to read through the folder, I’m interested in talking to you, because I’ll be heading an international office of the agency, while you are on the new in-coming programs team of the international department, we should compare notes. And I have to admit, I feel a bit sorry for you. You’re by far the youngest here, the only young woman, that’s not going to be so easy … and seeing you looking so visibly ill…..”
“Wow, you probably are the most observant and considerate man I have ever met,” Evelyne laughed lightly, feeling much better instantly. “What you will be doing, opening up the new office in Jakarta, also sounds incredibly interesting. Do you believe in instant friendship?”
“That’s something I honestly think we can work on in the next days,” David smiled. “Now let me help you carry your bags to your room so you can rest a bit before our first meeting before dinner.”
***
On her way to the first meeting, Evelyne noticed her room was probably the furthest away from the main building and its meeting rooms; she had to walk along an endless corridor-like porch, the uncomfortable feeling of fear – physically palpable in welling nausea and icy cold streaming into her extremities – rising with every step closer she got. As she entered, she was overwhelmed with relief as the first person she saw was David Grapeton, who waved her over to his side of the tables, gestured her to sit on the chair he had saved next to him, handing her another glass of the soothing cool peppermint tea.
Evelyne settled with a grateful smile, as David introduced her to Eileen, a motherly looking woman nearing 60, who patted her shoulder on greeting. “Evelyne, it’s so good to meet you, Katherine at headquarters told me to keep an eye on you, told me you are her best young talent. Don’t you worry, I used to work in the same department as Stuart Pratton, I know how to handle him – I’ll make sure he doesn’t hurt you.”
“Eileen, so nice to meet you. I can’t say how grateful I already am to you David for taking such good care of me. I don’t know anybody here – but somehow everybody seems to know me … even better, wants to take care of me,” Evelyne was overwhelmed.
David showed a small grin. “Well, no surprise there, you are something like the white raven in this group….” making Evelyne realize that this might be the easiest approach to surviving the week – taking on the role of the innocent, slightly helpless baby of the group, letting everybody pamper her.
A door closed noisily, the room hushed as a gruff voice said, “Good afternoon everyone. Welcome to the agency’s presentation skills training!”
Her eyes widening in disbelief Evelyne had to bite her under lip to keep her mouth from falling open in surprise. Nobody had warned her of the immense physical presence of Stuart Pratton. Not overtly tall at barely 6’, he was extremely powerfully built with heavy shoulders, strong arms and massive wrists showing out of his rolled up shirt sleeves. A wide bull’s chest gave way to an enormous round barrel shaped belly, the oversized upper body supported by thick legs, planted sturdily apart increasing the entire air of command he issued.
Evelyne had to stare – at the impressive belly overhang, smoothly encased in a blue-and-white striped shirt pushing belt and waistband down. In the rear were thick love-handles forcing their way over the same belt. It took her a while before she could actually concentrate on his facial features, not sure if they could seriously be called attractive. Without doubt they were very strong, masculine softened only by the plump flesh of his cheeks and neck – looming dark grey eyes, sensuous lips seemingly well practiced in tasting the pleasures of life and a shock of unruly blond hair.
Pratton must have been talking for about five minutes before Evelyne was able to focus on what he was saying. It turned out to be the regular agency introduction speech she had heard already at least a dozen times, so she hadn’t missed anything. Alone his voice – deep, almost something of a growl to it – sent shivers down her spine, as did watching his belly sway in rhythm with his love-handles moving up and down over a plump but unspectacular backside as he walked back and forth in front of the group.
“Wow, he sure has gotten fat again since his last divorce,” Eileen mumbled next to her, sending tingles between Evelyne’s thighs. She felt like she had somehow entered into the dark theater at the movies, but what she now saw on the screen had nothing to do with the plot she had been prepared for. Instead of encountering a revolting, disagreeable, mean, scheming man she had every reason to be afraid of, she found herself in the situation of having to suppress intensive feelings of physical lust, completely forgetting how queasy she had felt all day to be drawn to her trainer and examiner by sheer big animal magnetism.
“Evelyne, get yourself a sheet of paper for writing your poster,” Stuart Pratton’s low growl came from above where he stood in front of her desk startling Evelyne, who realized she had been staring at his belly in awe.
In automatic mode, she batted her eye-lids and pouted a bit in looking up. “Yes?”
A somewhat wolfish, knowing grin crept across Stuart’s face, patting his belly. “You did get the message that you are supposed to do a poster introduction of yourself, why you are here at this training, following the pattern I wrote down over there?”
“Oh yes! I’ll try,” Evelyne was saved in this moment by David, who handed her paper and some markers.
“I got these for you to save you the trouble. Would you like any other colors as markers?”
“No, thank you so much David, you’re great,” giving him her most dazzling smile while Stuart retreated smirking.
Evelyne set to work, this was easy – her handwriting was a natural asset, she was good in structuring her thoughts and doing convincing imagery, even though her actual drawing skills were poor. Starting out by doing her poster horizontally instead of vertically as the assignment suggested, then opting for a summery scene – her life as a sail boat, the waves as her experiences, the clouds her ideas about working for the agency and the sun as the ultimate goal – to introduce herself.
Stuart walked by the desks, looking at their work stopping at Evelyne’s just as she was about finished, shaking his head. “That’s not good!” before calling out, “Time is up! Who wants to go first? Introduce themselves officially.”
Evelyne was shocked, the cold fear that had retreated in the past half hour, giving way to much warmer physical sensations, roared back, leaving her feeling miserable – so it was just as bad as everybody had always told her.
David patted her arm reassuringly. “He probably needs new glasses, yours is great, look at mine!” Being left-handed – he had a horrible scrawl, had labored tediously at it. Still his poster looked a mess. Eileen glowered at Stuart mumbling to Evelyne. “I’m here just for fun, I have nothing to lose – I’ll give him a telling off later in private to make sure he isn’t so mean to you anymore.”
Still Evelyne felt awful, only wanted to see the session end, lie down on her bed to cry. The first two who had presented themselves were Edgar, a self-important 30-something candidate for one of the agency’s new Latin America offices, and Marek, an amusing Pole from Poznan who was to run the new Warsaw office and spoke the most entertaining English. To get it over with, Evelyne raised her hand to go next, but Stuart turned her down, calling on Eileen. The same happened with the next two presenters; as she raised her hand for the fourth time, Stuart half barked at her, “Evelyne, you have to wait. It’s not your turn yet!”
By now, Evelyne was on the brink of tears – half scared, half defiantly angry. Maybe she was biased, but so far none of the posters had been as good as hers. Admittedly Stuart gave methodical, constructive but thoroughly professional, not personally insulting feed-back to everyone – even though some were so poor Evelyne was surprised grown professionals dared offer such a presentation. Finally, everyone except Evelyne had presented, so Stuart nodded at her to take the floor. She hung her poster on the board, squared her shoulders went through her presentation, finishing with a deep breath and taking her seat again, not looking up anymore.
A short clapping made her start and raise her head, looking around, catching Stuart’s friendly amused gaze on her. “That was not good – that was perfect. A clear image, well-structured, perfectly legible – everybody in this room, will always remember you as the woman who sees her life as a sail boat. Sorry I made you wait, but I knew if you were one of the first, nobody would pay any more attention to my individual feedback to their presentations, only make a mental note to copy yours the next time. There is such a thing as a too good example. But now it’s time for dinner – at least I’m starving!” giving his belly a resounding slap.
Going weak with relief, Evelyne suddenly noticed she was incredibly hungry herself.
A long dinner table was set up in the converted barn, half open now in summer time with a delicious looking buffet. Eileen made sure Evelyne settled next to her right next to the head of the table, Edgar took the seat across from her with David on Evelyne’s other side. As Stuart arrived, he sat down at the head of the table with a plate piled high with appetizers. Eyeing the buffet Evelyne nevertheless was worried what she could stomach, not wanting to get sick again, so she stuck to a bit of rice and steamed vegetables.
On seeing her plate, Stuart grimaced in disgust. “Don’t tell me you’re one of those health food, diet-talk ladies!”
With a small laugh, Evelyne indicating at her well-proportioned size 12 curves, shook her head. “No way, normally I’m a serious foodie, I love to cook, bake and eat. Right now my stomach could be in better shape, so I’m just being careful, to be sure I’ll be alright for the rest of the week, make the most of it.”
“Good to hear first impressions were correct impressions,” Stuart’s eyes appreciatively raked her cleavage, well displayed in a summery fitted peasant style blouse, shoveling in two more appetizers before letting out a laugh. “Oh, so you’re the one from the new team who got sick every time she was supposed to come to my training! I was starting to take it personally! See, now you’re here - and there is nothing to be afraid of, is there?” his voice becoming low, intimate towards the end, giving Evelyne a deep look, locking eyes.
“No, there probably isn’t. I think I’ll be fine,” Evelyne blushed, returned his look as long as she dared hold it. An electrical shock swooping down her spine causing serious damage in her lower regions.
Eileen saved her further embarrassment by wrapping her arm protectively around Evelyne’s shoulder. “Stuart’s a classic case of worse bark than bite, dear. You don’t have to be afraid – we’ll look after you. Still, Stuart, keeping Evelyne hanging out on a limb during the whole presentation was not nice of you. She’s too young for such games,” she chided him.
“That’s a very interesting question Eileen, which age is the right age for which type of games,” Stuart leered at Evelyne on getting up for a second plate from the buffet, who only found herself suddenly being fawned over by Edgar which irritated her immensely, so she turned to David to question him about his family.
Towards the end of the meal, Evelyne did feel a dessert craving thinking she could clearly give it a try if her body asked for it. As she had got up, Stuart called after her, “Evelyne, can you do me a favor, get me a plate of dessert – I feel too heavy now to get up and do it myself?”
Seeing him mockingly try to lift his belly, Evelyne was wildly turned on. “My greatest pleasure! What would you like, any preferences?”
Cocking his eyebrow, Stuart shook his head. “I fully trust your good taste!”
Quickly getting some slices of fresh peach and a cookie for herself, she grabbed a dinner not a dessert plate, assembling and arranging an abundant dessert still life on it, placing it in front of Stuart with the sweetest of smiles. “Enjoy!”
He grinned with delight, while Eileen reproached her. “I know you mean well, Evelyne, but Stuart doesn’t need extra feeding. Look at him! How much weight have you put on again since your divorce? You really have to watch it!”
“There are other times and places to discuss those details, Eileen,” Stuart brushed it off, slapping his belly. “I’m in good shape again since my divorce, you’re right. Let me remind you of ground rule number one – no diet talk during meals. It’s good to see Evelyne here has the right attitude: The more the merrier, the bigger the better, eh Evelyne?” licking chocolate mousse of his spoon in slow motion.
Giggling, Evelyne couldn’t help responding, “I think I can agree with the general tendency!”
The evening ran late, because Evelyne couldn’t resist staying up with Eileen, Marek and Stuart hearing stories about the early days of the agency. Eileen and Stuart walked her to her room, since they both were staying in small cabins even further away from the main building. Eileen hugged her good night. “Sleep well, hope you’re fully recovered in the morning.”
Stuart with a smirk wrapped his arm heavily around her, pulled her into his fleshy side. “Yeah, make sure to get that appetite back. Sweet dreams!”
Exhausted, dizzy, turned on, guilty, worried, delighted – Evelyne’s feelings were stumbling over each other incoherently as she collapsed on the bed in her room. Oh God, why hadn’t anybody warned her Stuart Pratton was a big boldly confident bear who could instantly push all her buttons into overdrive?
All her friends had warned her about all sorts of things, how fussy he was about assignments, how high his standards were, how critical and cruel his feedback could be, how disgusting he was, how horrible his reputation as a three times divorced womanizer was, how mean he was in using his influence in the agency …. Blah, blah, blah.
All completely irrelevant, if not to say misleading information! It had made her build up her defenses at the completely wrong side – leaving her weakness for big men as a wide open flank he could take in a leisurely storm, making her fall for him hard. Why hadn’t any of her idiot friends thought about that? Oh right, they weren’t aware of her private obsessions.
All they knew of was of her 2-year college dating relationship with Damian, even though she had always had a crush on his chubby little brother Jason. Damian had fulfilled the criteria for presentable boyfriend, even wanted to marry her after college, but Evelyne was slightly bored by him, overtime suffering more and more from their physical incompatibility, being increasingly repulsed by his scrawny body and clumsy love-making.
They hadn’t known Bradley, her first boyfriend, whom she had dated for 3 years in high school, a skinny kid who discovered his appetite making him gain 80 pounds during their time together as she perfected her cooking skills with him as a taste-tester. Despite being on a classic case of puppy love, it had taught Evelyne what kind of man she physically desired.
Now she was here, for a whole week, lustily shivering every time she looked at Stuart’s big inviting belly, fantasizing about those powerful hands raking her body, those sensuous lips devouring her instead of dessert – what was she going to do? Well at least for tomorrow she knew she would have to rebuild a completely different set of defenses ….....
