I first saw her shortly after I was elected Mayor of this Florida West Coach beach town. She was stunning in a bright pink sun dress that hugged her curves and showed her magnificent breasts and shapely legs to devastating effect. The desire began with that first glance, but I had no idea how intense it would become. It was a sunny day and she was wearing sunglasses, so I would only be hit by her piercing green eyes later, when we had dinner in the evening. Those witchy eyes on top of her exquisite face, luscious form, and gorgeous blond tresses were almost too much to bear.
The road stretched out ahead as the shoes began their repetitive striking of the pavement. The air crisp and cooly filling his nostrils and lungs. Perfect weather to stretch the legs and push a bit harder today. As the sun sank down, down off the edge of the horizon leaving the dusk to keep the road lit, thoughts turned to the day before. Her brown eyes glanced up at him. She had been pulling a friday night piece of pizza from the box. Her expression mostly unchanging as she said, “no, you’re right.” It was one of those moments. A moment that was inevitable. There was a small voice inside him that said, “I know she’s gonna say Yes, when you’re not around I miss you and it’s totally different. “But she didn’t. She said what his heart thought she would say. The running shoes dug harder into the asphalt.
Goddess Marquesa glanced down at the invitation once again. Yes, this was the right address. The grim Gothic mansion looked quite out of place among the pastel-hued condominiums of her West Florida beach neighborhood. She pressed the button next to the door. As an echoing metallic bell sounded from deep within the mansion, the Goddess thought she saw a bat circle quickly around the mansard roofed tower looming over the shallow portico. This place has just the right ambience for Halloween, she thought to herself. 
It was a typical late summer’s night in New York: sultry, hot and humid. It had just rained, but the night was clear now and the bright light of the Moon snuck down between the rooftops and kissed the glistening, wet streets. As the special limo carrying my most beloved, adored, and worshiped Mistress Marquesa and myself, Her submissive, pliant, obedient, pink lingerie clad slave/slut girl Danielle careened downtown, I could see that the city was indeed alive, despite the obtrusive heat and very late hour. 
Clark was livid. Not that this was an unusual state for him to be in. Not at all. That was, ironically enough, really at the root of the current problem. Of course, with Clark, there was ALWAYS a problem, or a crisis or a situation, or SOMETHING that he (and ONLY he) could repair and set to right. This was because Clark was one of those self appointed “General Manager of the Universe” types who felt that no one else was really capable or competent enough to get the job done, and done right; whatever that job was. He was a stereotypical hard-charger who would never admit to meeting his match – even if he had! He was about to have his male ego’s perfect track record disrupted, however, and here is where our story begins. Here is where Clark’s reign as “Lord and Master of All He Surveys” would end, and he wouldn’t even know it. 
