GITJ Post 319: Lunch with Abby

“So one of my girls, Lakshmi, tells me he’s all upset that I didn’t let him help me move,” said Melissa Monroe, Office Manager at what would soon no longer be a specialty geriatric medical practice on the city’s outskirts. She sounded a little frustrated. “You know I couldn’t, right? For, like, obvious reasons?”

“Yeah,” laughed Abby, her friend of several years and the sales rep/handler assigned to this project which - to an increasing number of people - was maybe becoming a little far-reaching, “Are they still mad about that? Your, uh…” Though increasingly bold these days, Abby still had to be a little concerned about prying ears. “…landlords?”

“Yeah sorta. My mom is too,” answered Melissa, spearing an artichoke heart from her plate of salad, “But she’s away for a while. I’ll deal with her when she gets back.” The two women were sharing lunch at a local restaurant that Thursday afternoon, and Melissa was glad she had Abby to talk to. Things had been a little funny with him these past couple of days, and it’d be nice to have a fresh perspective. Abby was a few years older, in her early thirties though she still looked so pretty, and Melissa had come to value her wisdom. Abby just seemed to…get her. Plus - she dressed so nice, so professional! Melissa always tooked to her as an example of how even a girl with a figure can dress for the corporate world. Abby was great.

Knowing this about her ‘friend’, how Melissa respected her, made it a bit harder for Abby to say what she’d needed to say, and sometimes do what she needed to do. Melissa was a sweet girl, but she’d developed a little bit of a rebellious streak, and not everyone was happy with the way things were starting to proceed. Abby had, through this whole assignment, been tasked with keeping the course straight, the waters calm. “I also don’t know if it was a good idea,” she offered, choosing her words carefully, “You had everything you needed at your old place.”

“Yeah, I guess, I know. They’ve been so nice,” Melissa agreed, allowing that fact to her friend and doing her best to sound grateful, “I just wanted to be somewhere, even just for this little while, where I felt like I wasn’t being watched all the time.”

“I get that,” Abby conceded, forking a morsel of tortellini from her own plate. She understood it must be hard to be a girl in Melissa’s unique situation. But she also knew how they needed to keeps tabs on her, and him. “And it’ll be, what, a month or so before your mom gets back?”

“So I hear,” Melissa replied, “and by then the new places should be ready for us, if, like, all the construction keeps on schedule.” She bit her lower lip, took a moment as a waitress came by to refill her water glass. “But in the meantime it’s just that, well, when I want to be alone with him, I wanna be alone with him.”

After the waitress had left, Abby Solowicki smiled at her charge, knowing she needed to appear warm and supportive, “You really love him don’t you?” she asked. Of course she’d seen the reports, the EEGs, the bloodwork. There were quantifiers attributable to all this, and Melissa’s readings was off the charts.

“Omigod you have no idea,” gushed Melissa, immediately, a throb of wetness causing her to clamp her thighs tight, “I can’t…I can’t even describe it.”

This is what they hadn’t planned for, Abby surmised, watching the wave of emotions light Melissa’s face. She’s getting so caught up in this, much more than they thought she would. “I’m so happy for you guys,” she offered, smiling genially but knowing the answer to her next question before she asked it, “And he’s told you he feels the same way?”

Ugh, no. But the idea of it, imagining his quivering face looking up at her and professing his love made Melissa squirm again. “No…he hasn’t,” she breathed in exasperation, but able to actually hear his stammering little voice speaking those words: ILY. She wanted that so bad!! But…but…she understood, what he’s been going through.  “I’ve had guys tell me a lot of things,” she said to Abby, in explanation, “and I want him to…like…mean it, when he finally says it.”

Abby nodded.

Despite logic, despite the fact that it all made sense, him taking it slow, Melissa Monroe felt her blood start to simmer. She’d told him she loved him…why didn’t he feel the same?! Was there something wrong with her?!? Her friends were supportive, telling her that she was imagining it, his reticence and distance, but she’d definitely felt it this week. Had she gone a bit too far? Over the weekend, on Tuesday night? Been too much for him? Too aggressive? She knew he was fragile…

To Abby, to her friend, Melissa described her nights with him. How she’d manipulated him with her body, and with what she knew to be his weaknesses. She described her shows of physical strength. And then: “I was there, in his bed with him yesterday morning, and I just, y’know, with my perfumes. I pretended I was asleep but I  made him do…whatever I wanted. It just feels so good to play with him! But now maybe I feel a bit bad.”

“It’s okay. You’re just experimenting with your power,” Abby reassured her, knowing the course she had to take, “You’re growing, you’re growing stronger every day. It’s all so you can be better for him.”

Melissa nodded, taking a sip of her water and feeling acutely the weight of her chest, the musculature in her arms, back, shoulders. She could sense the ever-filling ocean of ultra-potent pheromones just barely held back by the floodgates under her skin, along with the hint of other budding abilities. She was becoming more powerful every day, and she knew it was true, she could feel it was true…it was all for him. The thought brought her a new wave of wetness, and she nearly sighed.

“Listen, Tits,” Abby began again, using the playful nickname she’d adopted for Melissa, “Men are all nervous, they have been for a while, but especially now after the election. They’ve been in denial but lots of them have seen it coming.” Abby, herself, had to control her voice and the excitement in it. “Imagine how he must feel, now. All that he’s lost, how he’s…like you said…getting smaller. He’s been surrounded by women all his life, and you’re surrounding him with even more, women who are bigger and stronger and smarter. Like all of them he’s worried about losing his rights, his independence. Don’t you think he’s nervous? That he’s scared? Maybe he sees his life slipping away and doesn’t know what the future is going to be.”

Oh godddddd, Melissa groaned, privately. Why was this so thrilling to her??

“So this is my advice,” Abby spoke, smiling seeing the effect she was having, “show him that you can be a comfort, that you can be protection for him now that things are changing. Did you watch the camera feed from his apartment last night, with him and that girl…what’s her name? Lilly?”

“Lakshmi,” Melissa answered, in correction, “No. I figured it was, like, a private moment for them.”

“Well I read the transcript, quick,” Abby explained, “He’s looking for it - comfort and protection. You’ve seen some of the notes on him, right? The history? He really wants a mother figure. And, jesus, Melissa…look at you.”

To that, Melissa blushed. It’s not that it was a surprise, the more…maternal aspects of her appearance being pointed out. She’d been called “mommy” by online admirers more times than she could count.

“I’d say soften up on him, calm his anxieties like only a woman can. It will get you what you want. If he’s scared, afraid that things are changing? Use that. He likes your boobs as much as you say? Great. You guys are supposed to be going out this weekend? Don't go out, stay in. Give him a night with your breasts.”

Melissa snorted. But then pictured it, how she could steer the evening, what she could wear. Omigod I could make him melt. “Like, a date with my boobs?”

“Haha sure a boob date,” Abby laughed, “that’s, like, every man’s dream, these days. He’s been nervous about you being strong with him, when you get excited? Show him how gentle you can be. You already take care of him in so many ways. Show him just how much of a mother figure you already are, and what things could be like.”

Melissa giggled, again, with the thought of it. She pictured herself in an apron, pumps and a beehive, pulling a tray of cookies from the oven. He was sat at the table like a little boy, a glass of milk - strike that, a bottle of milk - on his…haha omigod…high chair.

“You know what I’m talking about, right?” Abby asked.

“Sure, yes, right,” Melissa answered, biting her lower lip in the arousal she was already feeling. Was it getting hot in here haha? “Lakshmi says he’s feeling a little ignored. I didn’t want that. I had just wanted to give him some space, let him process things, not freak him out by being too…me,” she continued, “but maybe…”

“I think what he wants is for you to be the most ‘you’ you can be,” Abby pressed, seeing how she could salvage this situation, “He doesn’t want to be ignored? You have a lot of love for him? Smother him with it. Drown him in comfort. Show him he’ll never be ignored again.”

“Oh wow, Abby,” Melissa breathed, fanning herself with her napkin, “I could drown him so good…”

“Yes you could,” Abby encouraged.

”And he likes me big, he wants me bigger, I can tell,” Melissa added, “And now…I want to do it for him. Grow. Grow more.”

“You know what they’re saying in the labs, right? About you?” Abby spoke, leaning in and dropping her voice, “You have the potential to grow much, much bigger.” This was starting to work out really, really well.

“Yes oh god yes Abby,” Melissa replied, caught up in the plans, “He’s nervous, about the changes? I can show him that he needs protection. I can show him how nice it could be for him with women in charge.”

“You’re so sweet and caring…”

“I can be sweet and caring. I can be kind, gentle, considerate…”

“Yes,” Abby continued, “You’ve already proven you’re big. You’ve proven you can physically dominate him so easily. But looking after him, protecting him, caring for him? That’s what he needs right now. That's something you must constantly show.”

Melissa forked forcefully into an olive, a slice of pepper, and thought back to gentle moments with him, how hard and quivery she’d made him. “He likes it when I´m kind…very much…” She then thought to herself, as she imagined his face: You like it kind? Then I´ll give you kind. She chuckled to herself, finding how aggressive she’d become with her salad. “I want to be a comfort to him, I do,” she said, “but I think he kinda likes it both ways.”

“Sure sure,” Abby encouraged, “men can be funny like that. We’ve all got to realize that the old stereotypes are breaking down, roles are reversing. Men now like us to show them the rough, take-charge lovemaking. They want to be dominated, they want us to toss them around like rag dolls. Men are at the gym less, women more. Secretly they want to be, like, brutalized, made to feel small and weak and terrified of us. But then, they’re needy and - you’re right - then they want us as Mommy to comfort them.”

“Oh godddd Abby,” Melissa laughed, “stop you’re going to make me burst. I just want to boink him.”

“Haha nothing wrong with that,” Abby replied with a glimmer in her eyes, “When you’re in a relationship it’s just important to understand the other persons feelings. He’s like all men these days. What he really wants and needs is a mommy girlfriend.”

She knew this.

“He needs the comfort, the protection. But also the guidance, the discipline. He needs someone to tell him what to do, reward him when he does what you want, and sometimes punish him when he disappoints you.”

Abby watched her friend nodding, absorbing her advice, and continued. “I do it with the guy I’m dating, ” Abby said to Melissa, “Like, when we’re alone, just at home, I make sure to praise the little things he does, cleaning up after himself, wearing an outfit I like. It makes him feel good and it helps, it helps solidify our roles.”

“Jay does like that sort of thing too…” Melissa offered, nodding.

“And I make sure he feels dependent on me, too,” Abby continued, deciding to allow herself another slice of the bread on the table, “Like, I make more money then him, and I want him to know it. When we go out in public, for example. Usually, I’ll either pay for whatever we plan on spending money on that day or make him pay for his stuff with my money if we are buying little things for him.”

“ooo yes I can do that!” Melissa giggled, remembering how good it felt to pay for his dinner.

“For instance, a shirt that we just bought for him. We were at Hera’s. He carried it all around the store and all the way up to the register. I let him do that all by himself,” Abby began, “When we went to check out, I opened my purse and handed him my card, the cashier standing right in front of us, people watching. That part’s really

important, that he knows others are seeing it happen.”

“Was he embarrassed?” Melissa asked, feeling like she should be taking notes.

“A little. But I talked him through it, how to slide the card into the machine. And I signed for it of course, telling him he’d done a good job. He liked that.”

Melissa giggled. She hadn’t met Abby’s new boyfriend yet but he sounded like a keeper.

“And so,” Abby continued, shifting herself in her seat on the leather bench, “it all looks innocent enough to the person behind the register, the other people in the store, but him just knowing what was going to take place with that shirt and having to buy it with mommy’s money was really powerful. It’s just little things like that.”

“God I want to drive back to the office and take him shopping with me right now,” Melissa laughed.

“Haha yeah I loved every minute of it,” Abby conceded, “and I think he did too.” At that, she leaned in, over her plate of chilled pasta and crusty bread, to commiserate with her asset. On cue, Melissa leaned in too. “And then, in the parking lot, after getting him seated, fastening his seatbelt for him, I gave him a quickie.”

“A handjob?” Melissa laughed, catching herself snorting too loudly.

“Yeah a little reward, for being so good,” Abby smiled, leaning back again with a satisfied smile, “just like you’re going to reward him, this weekend, for doing everything mommy says…”

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