TECHNIQUES OF A TECHNICIAN. 1-24-11
Roy Garde.
Alec Curtis set a precedent in his company when he got his Masters Degree in Computer Science in the same year that he finished his four-year apprenticeship.
His achievement was acknowledged all around and he got a letter of congratulation from the President of his firm.
He also got to choose which department he wanted to work in and he decided to join the team that was designing, and writing the programming for, a new computer that was well on the way to being finished by then.
When it was launched it proved to be very successful and it sold well but, like all new computers, extensive amendments to its programming were needed when customers wanted it to be adapted to their particular needs and Alec was asked to go to the branch of the company that was in Trenton to do that for a local customer and when he’d done so and had returned to NY he found that he’d really liked ‘being on the road’ and he said so when he went in on the following Monday morning.
His manager was delighted to hear it because Alec was one of only three men in the company who were competent enough to be sent out to do that work and the other two were married men who much preferred to work in the company’s headquarters in New York City and go home to their families every night.
Because of the huge demand for his services Alec’s life got to be hectic and he did so much traveling that he spent only two months or so of the entire year in his apartment in Brooklyn and even that was only because it was company policy that all employees had to attend all of their seminars to keep up to date with new developments in his field.
Because he had spent his formative years wrapped up in school work and then in college work for a regular degree, and after that, for a graduate one, his love life had been close to zero and so, with his new found affluence and freedom from having to do any more intensive studying, he wanted to catch up with that aspect of life as she is lived.
At first he paid women to come to his bed and he learned a great deal from them but he soon tired of having to agree to their many restrictions as to what was, and what wasn’t, acceptable behavior when in bed with them and so he started to court regular women and although he managed quite well when he was given a few weeks to meet and then wine and dine them he wasn’t, usually, allowed the luxury of having that amount of time – even though he could take all the time off that he wanted, after setting up his colleagues in each branch office with various straight forward details that needed to be worked on, because no one else came close to understanding the overall project and so management had the good sense to leave him alone – and that handicap was stretched further because he was over conscientious and so, when each problem had been solved, he felt obligated to leave that town and go and deal with the next one on his list even when a relationship was showing promise.
In one town he had enough time, and enough good luck, to meet a woman who was really into it and she whetted his appetite for good, uninhibited sex so much that when he’d had to leave her he felt so bereft that he took time out, when he’d dealt with the next problem that had he’d been handed, to re-evaluate his life and think about whether or not to ask his boss to assign another technician to share some of the traveling.
But then, as soon as that idea came into his head, he realized that he liked his life style so much that it would be a really foolish thing to do and that he should look for another way to solve his dilemma. He also knew that he had to come up with something quickly seeing that having good sex had become an obsession with him and it got to be that the only times that he wasn’t scheming to get a woman into his bed was when he was totally immersed in a difficult programming problem or when he already had a woman in his bed.
In an attempt to deal with his problem he decided, on the afternoon before he was leaving a town where he’d solved a tricky problem, right on deadline, of a new computer for a huge factory that employed two thousand local people and was needed urgently to keep the production line going and had said goodbye to his relieved colleagues, and to the much more relieved General Manager, he put a ‘Do Not Disturb’ sign on his hotel door knob and he disconnected his cell phone and then he put his analytical cap on and pondered.
Eventually he came up with a bold, perhaps unique plan that should work well, he thought, and he told himself that because he was always on the move the notoriety that would ensue wouldn’t be much of a factor.
It involved the exploitation of his slightly effeminate looks.
He was fairly good looking but in a rather delicate way and he was about three inches too tall for his weight and his light brown hair always hung down over his blue eyes no matter how hard he tried to train it to stay in place.
When he’d tentatively checked it out, and was reasonably happy with the results, from then on he did it in each new town that he was sent to. He’d go out of his way to pal up with the local techs and he’d praise what they’d already come up with in the way of solving their unique local problem and then he’d cleverly lead them to think that they could have done each new modification themselves without his help. Without exception they’d like him so much for having boosted their egos, and their reputations, that they’d invite him to have lunch with them and, later, to go for a beer with them after work.
After two or three beers – they’d told him that his money was no good there – he’d say goodbye to them and then search out the most popular gay bar, or club, in town and he’d ‘befriend’ one of the most flamboyant, loose-wristed denizens of it and he’d buy him a drink or two and engage, as best he could, in some pretty tortured conversation and then, before leaving him, he’d invite him to come, the following evening, to the bar that he’d had the beers in earlier.
Without fail, when that had happened, the news would spread quickly and, also without fail, all of the suits who worked in the office would relax their guard concerning their wives – they’d all read in magazines, or had seen on TV, that, ever since Jacqueline Kennedy had led the way, every woman should have a gay friend/companion in her life – and, far from keeping a wary eye on Alec when their wives were around, they’d actively encourage him to talk to them privately and even to visit them at home whenever he wanted.
After meeting one of the wives who especially attracted him, at a dinner or a card party, he’d show interest in whatever branch of the arts that she followed most closely – interior decorating or water coloring or dress designing, or whatever – and he’d nearly always, and quite openly, be invited to come to her home whenever it suited him, “to see my work.” He’d say, enthusiastically, that he’d love to and would then deviously and cleverly find out if there’d be anyone else at the house the next day and then he’d leave it at that and do some polite circulating.
Because, as stated, no one at the office knew nearly as much as he did concerning the technical side of the equipment, he’d give his colleagues some basic and tedious but very necessary tasks to get on with on the afternoon of the next day and then he’d slip away to take up the invitation that he’d been given.
Once there, as he was admiring the water colors – or the sculptures or the curtains or even the wallpaper if that was what she was into – he’d trot out some relative facts that he’d gleaned by Googling the night before and that would always dazzle her no end and break the ice immediately and make her more malleable and more friendly.
She’d offer him some coffee but, having remembered what she’d been drinking the night before, he’d ask for some of that instead and they’d take up their drinks and go to the living room to talk.
When they’d exhausted the subject at hand their conversation would tend to become more personal and he’d listen attentively to whatever she trotted out which is such a rare thing that she’d feel highly flattered.
She’d also be intrigued and even mystified with being with a non-aggressive male and, being sure that she was safe with this one, she’d start flirting a little and then a lot and would even flaunt some skin as she experimented with searching out the parameters that pertained with, for her, the strange creature who was sitting across from her and who, in all likelihood, could perhaps be persuaded to come out with some juicy anecdotes that she could repeat to her coterie and impress them no end.
Alec would hold still until she’d crossed the line from which retreat was impossible and then he’d move in on her, decisively, and soon after that she’d find herself being helped up the stairs and asked which bedroom were they going to use.
He always had great success using his scheme because all of the wives were well educated, and most of them were bored out of their skulls, and their intelligence would tell them that it would be churlish to refuse him after having gone so far. Besides which, although they didn’t have strong feelings about committing adultery, one way or the other, they’d never practiced it themselves before but only because avoiding it was easier and less messy. They were also aided in deciding to take it all the way with him by knowing that there was little risk of being found out because their husbands would never believe that it was possible to be cuckolded by, to use their derisive word, a faggot.
Once in bed Alec would do a little exploring and then proceed conventionally, nature saw to that, and then, after resting for a while, he’d introduce her to several exotic new ways of doing it and he’d employ methods and angles and rhythms that she’d never before even dreamed existed and when she got to be totally satiated – after around two hours of joyful play that was interspersed with some serious pounding – he’d take a shower and get dressed but after that he’d never leave her bedside until she’d recovered enough to beg him to come back the next afternoon.
He would take her up on her offer, of course, and their liaisons would continue until the time came when he had to leave her town – which made for a parting that was never acrimonious – or until he tired of her for some reason in which case he’d tell her, as he was about to leave her bedroom for the last time, that he was experiencing pangs of guilt about making love to a colleague’s wife and then, given the circumstances, she would feel guilty herself and their break-up would be, if not without tears, acceptably smooth.
Alec kept on using both of his techniques in every town and, pertaining to his personal one only because in his professional one he always succeeded one hundred percent of the time, on average, he ‘scored’ in close to seventy percent of them. And, as the years went by, he was pleased with being able to maintain that average because he remembered reading about the guy who patrols ten blocks, or so, of Park and Madison Avenues in NYC and goes up to women who are alone and asks, politely, if she’d like to take him home to make love. When someone asked him if he gets his face slapped a lot he answered, “Hell yes, that happens most of the time but I get laid a lot too.”
On the times that he struck out – rarely with more than one of the women in the circle that he was introduced to in any one town – it was because she wasn’t the slightest bit interested in making love to any man ever again, which became obvious well before he’d made a serious move on her and so nothing was lost except an hour or two of his time; or, sometimes, because when he’d made his move he’d hear, “Young man, get your hand off my breast and leave this house right now.” which didn’t leave much room for him to plead his case; or, rarely, because, and this was the most painful one for him, when he was confronted with complete indifference on the woman’s part. In that last case, in a last ditch attempt to improve his position and assuage his ego, he’d offer up Anatole France’s wonderful aphorism for her to ponder on, viz. – “Of all the anomalies of sex the most singular, by far, is chastity.” If that stopped her in her tracks, as, he thought it certainly should do, he’d pour on the charm and see where that brought him.
On one memorable occasion the woman he was with burst into tears when she saw where the wind was blowing and, when he’d mollified her enough to get her to tell him what her problem was, she said, “Well Alec, first, I want to say that I’m very disappointed in you. I thought that I was going to have a nice, long conversation about a myriad of things with a man who didn’t want to take me to bed and now look what’s happened. You’re just like all of the others.”
He tried a come-back by saying that she was so attractive that she’d ‘turned’ him but she’d already been made very aware that he was an expert in the preliminaries so she didn’t believe a word of it.
However, he was intrigued and so, wanting to know her secret, he plied her with vodka as he employed a whole lot of inveigling to get her to tell all and she eventually relented and said, “Well, seeing that you’ll be leaving our town soon I will.
“I was one of the very few women back then, and even more so now from what I hear and read, who was still a virgin when she got married. That was mainly because I never did like being groped after a date – although I quite liked being kissed and caressed a little – and that was because ever since I’d found out about the differences between men and women the thought of having to so much as touch a man’s – any man’s – penis was enough to give me conniptions. I was very angry with nature when I found out that women, all women, have to lie still and open up and let a man penetrate her and then pound away at her and then inject her and, what’s more, have to let him do it over and over and over again whenever the need arises in him, uh, as it were.
“You men can’t know how awful it feels to have nothing but a hole between your legs instead of having a splendid, uh, instrument hanging there.”
Alec interrupted her to point out that, “You’ve just told me that you hate all penises and now here you are calling them, ‘splendid instruments.’ How come?”
“Oh dear, no, no. I don’t hate them at all, I just resent not having one of my own.
“Well, when I met a man, he’s my husband now, who I really liked I realized that I’d have to get over my silly but ever so strong prejudice but then, and to my vast relief, I found out that because he loved me too I had the power to get him to wait until we were on our honeymoon before, uh, before getting even to third base with me.
“Well, when we got to the hotel he went wild! That was because of his pent up needs, I guess. Well, I had to let him get at me all that he wanted, of course, but my God! He never stopped! He especially liked doing it in the morning when the sunlight was streaming into the room and so we always had to order up room service for breakfast. When it got to be lunchtime we’d put on swimming costumes and robes and we’d take a hotel picnic lunchbox down to the beach with us. Well, after eating we’d lie back in our chaise lounges and he’d watch the girls in bikinis going by and after a few minutes of that he’d say something like, ‘You know, honey, we can’t go in the water so soon after eating so how about going up to our room to rest for a while?’
“Ha! ‘Rest’ he said. I tell you the man was insatiable.
“Well, our honeymoon was for only one week but to me it seemed to last for months. I didn’t like having to do it then nor ever since although I’m grateful for my darling children that came from doing it but it was only when I was giving birth to them, and for a few days after, that I was content with having been given the necessary equipment to produce them but as soon as he, my husband, figured that enough time had gone by to let him start doing it again my disgust with the whole unfair set-up came back in full force.
“So. That’s why I’m very disappointed in you, Alec. I thought that because you’re homosexual you too have to, uh, lie down and, uh, get penetrated like all women do, and so maybe you’d be able to help me by telling me how to, uh, reconcile myself to, uh, take up the supine position without feeling bad about how much of a better deal men have.”
Alec, still retained a little hope and so he thought quickly and came up with, “You know what? On the first page of the Jewish Talmud – do you know what that is? No? Well it’s been their, uh, well, their Bible, ha!, for over a thousand years – it says, and on the very first page, mind you, ‘Thank you God for not making me a woman.’ So you can see from that that you’re not exactly the first one to recognize that gender is destiny and that this is a man’s world.
“You know what?” he went on after a pause to gage her reaction to what he’d said and he saw her eyes brighten and so he knew that he had her full attention, “I have a friend whose wife won’t let him have sex with her unless she’s had a whole lot of vodka beforehand and she won’t drink anything alcoholic unless they have friends over and so, because I like to drink a lot, he’s always begging me to come over and have dinner with them!
“Also, I have another friend whose wife won’t let him, uh, climb onto her until he’s given her a spine-shattering orgasm with his mouth and tongue and is well on the way to giving her a second one. Well now, can you imagine how badly he feels when it’s on one of those nights when she’s not responsive? He knows pretty quickly that he’s out of luck no matter what he does for her nor for how long he keeps at it, but, and here’s the saddest part, they both like that particular kind of love play a whole lot – although not enough for her to get into the sixty-nine position with him which, as they both know well, would solve his problem pretty damn quick – and so she ‘doesn’t mind’ if he keeps at it and he doesn’t want to stop because he thinks of it as communing with WOMAN in general, which it is, and so he gets more and more aroused while knowing that it’s useless. That impossible state of affairs continues until Nature rescues him by allowing him to, uh, get off on her belly or between her breasts which is very definitely not what he wants at all and, besides that as every man knows, doing that brings relief but little satisfaction. When that happens, which is often so he tells me, he likens his position to being in a kind of reverse Catch 22.”
He saw her face take on a rapt look and he guessed that she liked hearing that other women shared her inhibitions so he persevered, “I also know a guy whose wife won’t so much as guide him into her when he gets into position because she hates to touch his penis but if he gets on with it and waits until she’s urging him on, like, ‘Give it to me, you darling man. Harder! Harder!’ – you know how that goes of course? Sure you do – well he knows that he can then pull out and if he maneuvers her into the sixty-nine position she’ll do her part both willingly and avidly. Strange, hey?
“You see? You are by no means alone in your predicament.”
He saw that she was a little perplexed and so he gave her a minute but – nothing, so he tried again.
“And then there’s the fact that there are a whole lot of lesbians out there and you can bet that they all think like you do so – ”
He stopped talking then because she was waving her hand at him to be allowed to speak and then she said –
“Yes, well that stuff doesn’t interest me a bit. A girl in college came onto me once and when I understood what she was getting at I was so frightened that I got up and ran away from her even though the cafeteria we were in was crowded and so she could hardly do anything to me there. No, forget that but listen to what I’m going to say now – you’ve mentioned this ‘sixty-nine’ thing several times and for years now I’ve been hearing other people bring that number up and after saying it they’d usually smile or smirk and everybody else who’d heard it would dp the same thing and so it was obvious that they all knew what it means but I don’t and it always infuriates me so will you please explain what it signifies and, how, according to what you’ve been saying, how could doing it help me solve my problem?”
“Sorry, it’s one of those things that can’t be explained verbally, I’ll have to show you.”
“Well all right then, finding a solution for my, uh, problem in bed is so important to me, and to my husband of course, that I’m willing to try anything but,” here she went into a defensive mode, “I want you to promise that you’ll stop if I tell you to. Yes?”
“I promise but, uh, can we please get, uh, cosy and do some necking down here before we go up? Please? Just to let me see who I’m dealing with here and find out how best to get you into a receptive mood and maybe lessen your quibbles later. OK?”
“I think that’s a wonderful idea but, please, no further than second base. All right? – – – – Oooh! It took you about two seconds to undo my bra with only one hand! Even I can’t do it that quickly. Wow, aren’t you the – – – Aaaaah.”
For the rest of his life Alec would put what happened in the rest of that afternoon right at the top of his favorite memory list.
Naturally, his many failures disappointed him a great deal but the successes were plentiful enough to see to it that, for several years, he was as deeply satisfied and content with his love life as he was with programming computers.
One afternoon, in a town not far from San Francisco, Alec had once again followed his system successfully, this time with the well-endowed wife of the local Finance Manager, and he was in bed with her and had just gotten started on some preliminary exploration, along with some playful delving, when the bedroom door burst open and the burly figure of her husband charged in.
The woman screamed and covered her face, for some reason, and then, after being told to get out, she did so, trying to cover her breasts with one arm and hand and her center with her other hand which seemed rather pointless to Alec seeing that her husband must have seen all that she had thousands of times before.
The F.M. closed and locked the door and then he took his jacket off and laid it on the little bench seat that was in front of the dressing table.
Alec thought that he was about to get beaten up and was apprehensive, of course, but he also felt philosophical about it because he knew that he’d had a good run for his money – up to then. Indeed, his main regret at that moment was that the F.M. hadn’t showed up a half hour later because his wife really did have a magnificent body.
He said, trying to keep his voice from wavering, “Before you start hitting me I’d sure like to know how you caught on to my scheme.”
“Ha! Conniving as usual I see,” said the F.M. as he took his tie off and then dropped it on top of his coat. “You want to know that so that you can modify your, uh, ‘scheme’ as you call it and avoid making the same mistake the next time that you deceitfully and despicably try to seduce the trusting and unsuspecting wife of one of your colleagues. Am I right?”
He kicked off his shoes and began undoing the buttons on his shirt as he went on, “No, I’m not going to hit you Alec my boy, not unless I have to, that is. As to your question – well, I’ve been a closeted bi-sexual ever since I was fourteen years old. I was on a camping trip with my troop of Boy Scouts and the Scoutmaster picked me to be the tent leader which meant that my sleeping bag had to be the one that was nearest to the tent flaps and because of that he could come and wake me up easily. When he’d done so, that first night, he whispered that I was to follow him to the storage tent, where he had his own sleeping bag, to ‘do an inventory’ with him.
“Once there he kindly gave me a blow-job before screwing me.
“Clearly, he’d picked his victim well because after the second time I didn’t have to be woken up because I’d wait until all of the other kids had gone to asleep and then I’d go to him of my own accord. Well, I was glad that he’d picked me because it answered a lot of questions that had been troubling me and then, by the fourth or fifth night, I found that I liked both of the things that he did to me equally well and it’s been that way for me ever since.”
He undid his belt and zipper and he let his pants slip down to the floor and then stepped out of them and then he did the same thing with his underpants. “So,” he said, ”because of that I can, of course, spot a faker from a mile away. Now do you see where you went wrong, Alec?”
He pulled his undershirt up and over his head and he dropped it on top of the pile of clothing and then he moved to the side of the bed and said, “Well now, here we are. Let’s get on with it, shall we? Uh, if you don’t want to get hurt overmuch I suggest that you reach into the drawer of the table that’s over on your right and take out the little jar of Vaseline and apply some, liberally. I’ll wait – – – – there, good. Now turn over – – – – there, like that. Now brace yourself mentally and try to relax your body. Are you ready? Good.”
He got into position and said, “Now, Alec my boy, listen up. What I’m going to do, here and now, is try to address and alter the fraudulent part of your life style. If I fail, so be it but at least I know for certain that if you can still use your technique to successfully seduce a naïve housewife after having this done to you, then, while you’re going at it with one of them, you’ll always be very aware of what part of you is pointing towards the bedroom door.”
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