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A note to readers: This is a long story that unfolds chapter by chapter through the eyes of two protagonists -- Mark and Elsa, and as in many of my other stories involves a growing spate of horny characters. Every ten chapters or so I will provide a short summary at the start of that episode to bring new readers up to date. This story could appear in a number of genres (Loving Wives, Incest, Lesbian, Fetish, and more) depending on the chapter, but the overall theme is Group, so I have applied this moniker to all chapters. The story is still being written, yet I intend to post a new chapter every couple of days. Enjoy.

Chapter 1 -- Happy fallout from meeting at a party


Elsa

I stood near the corner of the room and watched all the happy people at the party.

I was not happy. I was a dark force in an otherwise joyful house. A lone dark rain cloud on an otherwise sunny day. The off-key screech in the middle of a perfect piece of music.

I had been unceremoniously dumped by my boyfriend of two years. The dumping had been a public event, taking place over what I thought would be a nice lunch for the two of us at Panera's. He announced we were through. I upchucked the half sandwich and soup I'd eaten, fortunately getting some of my vomit on his meticulously clean shirt and slacks.

I believe I also screamed a number of epithets at him as the rest of the restaurant watched open mouthed, many with food partway to their mouths. When I stomped out, there were over a hundred people who knew that Malcolm was a big shit, a cad, a player, and a first class asshole extraordinaire, and my detailed list of the reasons why. I hoped the city had a strong rumor mill.

That was Wednesday. This was Saturday. I had cried for most of that time. The fantasy I had of a happy marriage, two-point-one beautiful children, a dog, a cat, a gerbil, and a little love nest in the suburbs behind a white picket fence had been blown to smithereens, because Malcolm had to 'find himself' before he could continue in a committed relationship. Finding himself would apparently involve seeing other girls. I had the feeling he'd already started in that process.

I wish I'd thought to use my pepper spray on him in the restaurant. I also thought of a hundred other things I wished I'd screamed at him.

I was nursing additional revenge thoughts when I became aware of a masculine presence next to me.

He smiled down at me, *quot;Don't look so sad. I saw you smile at our hostess earlier, but you went back to the dark side. Don't listen to Darth Vader; come back into the force.*quot;

*quot;Bad week,*quot; I mumbled.

*quot;Break up with somebody?*quot; he inquired, accurately nailing the situation.

I glanced at him. I wondered just how much was written on my face. Did everybody at this party know my story? I only knew a couple of the people, including my sister Cindy who dragged me out of my bedroom and away from my box of Kleenex. I still wanted to cry, but doing that in public seemed out of place.

I nodded. *quot;Yeah. He took a couple of cheap shots, and left. At least we weren't married or engaged. Two years down the drain.*quot;

*quot;I'm sympathetic. It happens to everyone. I think it's part of becoming a real adult.*quot;

*quot;How's that?*quot; I asked.

He opined, *quot;Well, despite a few experiences here and there I think we get to about age twenty-five and most of us still have a naïve streak about relationships running down our backs. We think that there's a soul mate and some perfection out there, and we pursue that goal. If we find someone reasonably acceptable, we force fit them into that mold of perfection we've created in our minds. Later, we discover that no one is perfect, the concept of a soul mate is probably a myth perpetuated by greeting card makers to sell anniversary and Valentine's Day cards, and that everyone is a little bit broken with no hope of fixing those terminal faults. The force fit you made no longer works.*quot;

I smirked, *quot;Spoken like a true life cynic.*quot; I liked this man, whoever he was.

*quot;At your service.*quot; He bowed slightly.

*quot;I'm Elsa.*quot;

*quot;Mark.*quot; We shook hands. Already, he'd made me feel better. I actually smiled at him.

I sized him up. About six foot two, dark hair, insightful eyes, trim athletic form, and clothes that looked custom designed for him. They fit perfectly. His shoes were highly shined too, and they looked expensive -- Italian leather. I felt good vibes from him, although we'd said little to each other.

He just stood with me leaning against the same wall. We were both sipping glasses of wine. When mine got empty, he politely took it without a word and got me a refill. After we'd been there a half-hour, Mark said in a low-key way, *quot;Go out with me next Saturday evening? Dinner? Maybe dancing? I'm not good at the club scene though; it'll be more like ballroom dancing. I'm trying to learn, but I promise I won't step on your feet.*quot;

I studied Mark's sincerity and apparent trustworthiness.

I said cautiously, *quot;Can I send a canlı bahis şirketleri photo of your driver's license to my sister?*quot;

He laughed, *quot;Of course.*quot; He fumbled in his back pocket, extracted his wallet, and passed his license to me.*quot;

*quot;You hold it,*quot; I said, forcing him to display his state license. I pulled my cellphone from my pocket and took a picture, verified that it was legible, and then thanked him and immediately sent the pic to my sister Cindy. Of course, I ignored the actual writing on the license, only verifying the photograph. Next week, if I turned up dead in some alley, she'd know where to start.

Mark took my hand in both of his, *quot;I sensed you wanted someone to kind of 'be with,' but you didn't want to talk. I think I'm a witty conversationalist, but I gave you some space and was just 'with you.' When you're ready -- next week, maybe -- we'll chat. Appreciate that the hurt you're feeling from your breakup will subside and eventually be a long distant memory. As a friend, I can maybe help with that, at least by diverting your attention for a few hours.*quot;

*quot;Thank you.*quot; I gave a wan smile.

I gave Mark my home address and called his cell so we had that connection, and he promised to pick me up at seven-thirty.

Another man came up to Mark and mumbled in his ear. Mark turned to me with a smile, *quot;Gotta go. I have miles to go before I sleep. See you next week Elsa.*quot;

We parted and I found myself missing the aura of Mark, my mystery man. Later, I told Cindy all about him, what little I knew.

Mark

This would be one of the nicer parties I attended, mainly because there were only three people there who really knew me. To the rest I was a tag-along with Andrew Martin, my chief of staff; his pretty, sexy, and vivacious wife -- Margo; and my executive secretary, Sheila Arden. We looked like a foursome, but our work and relative standing to each other was unknown and we kept it that way at my request. Andrew had gone to university with the host and hostess -- Tyler and Kelsey, been in their wedding party, and at the party we helped celebrate their tenth wedding anniversary.

Running around the perimeter of the party were two young children that I learned were a by-product of the union we feted. I made a note that they seemed on sugar highs from continually eating the candies and brownies on the dessert table. Not my problem. They'd probably go to sleep the next day.

Most of the parties I went to did not have children around except for a few trophy wives and aspiring starlets, many of whom were of questionable legal age for any adult activity. Almost all of the people at those parties felt they had to genuflect in my direction, and many were bold enough to ask for something -- money, usually, and often in subtle ways. Fifteen years earlier, those same people wouldn't have given me the time of day.

I found those parties hollow, shallow, and a waste of time. They had long ago ceased to provide even entertainment value. Too much posing and posturing went on, and when I expressed those opinions and some other negatives to Andy, he politely asked if I wanted to go to a 'normal' party with him before we got on the corporate jet to fly to Europe. I said, *quot;Yes.*quot; Sheila was along for the trip, so was coming to the party as well.

I liked the anniversary party. Sheila made sure I arrived with a modest gift for the couple -- some wine and a cheese board; something that wasn't over the top and kept my anonymity preserved in the group. I met some interesting people, folks like me that were hard working and trying to get ahead. I had been lucky, made some good decisions, took some major risks, and by their standards had it made. I didn't tell them that, only that I worked at Worthington Industries. I happened to be 'The' Worthington who had created and built the company -- the multi-billion dollar international empire.

I didn't think I was on the prowl at the party until I saw Elsa standing out of the way, watching the festivities. She was stunning in her simplicity and beauty, and I was instantly drawn to her. She also oozed unhappiness. Some rare part of me felt compassion for her, so I talked to her briefly. I sensed she wanted some companionship, but not an interrogation, so I just stood with her, with little conversation, for over a half-hour.

I can tell a lot about a person in that time, just by watching them. They may not make oral noises that pass as conversation, but their bodies talk in a unique language of looks, posture, gestures, and deportment. Elsa was a nice person. Some of the people I had to do business with were not nice, and I'd learned the hard way how to hone my instincts and body language skills. If I played poker, I would be a daunting opponent. In the business world I was a force to be reckoned with.

I'd had bad luck in relationships. I wanted someone in my life who I resonated with in mind, body, and spirit. I wanted to feel an electric connection with someone else, and I had yet to meet canlı kaçak iddaa that person. As much as I ridiculed the idea of a soul mate, that was exactly what I was looking for. Someone where the best in them would hale the best in me, and together we'd make each other infinitely better in every dimension.

During the short time that Elsa talked she briefly explained her down behavior, not giving me a lot of unnecessary details -- some guy dumped her in a public setting with no warning. I figured him for a loser with shit for brains. Elsa apologized for being a 'dark force' at a happy party; I told her to forget about it and that everyone had such days.

Elsa was a rare beauty in my opinion: blonde, blue eyed, trim, late twenties, athletic, and even sensuous in her own way. Further, she oozed personality and her own brand of sexuality -- subtle and sweet, although I felt there was a lot hidden about that part of her that didn't show. I'd seen a few other people at the party try to engage her -- even hit on her, however she seemed rooted to her spot and not in a social mood.

After we'd been in each other's presence for almost a half-hour, I asked Elsa out and amazingly she accepted. I didn't pressure her, just politely asked. I thought 'low key' might have more of a chance with her than a high-pressure sell that I could easily do. I suggested dinner and ballroom dancing -- not club dancing. There were still a few places around that did that. In my early thirties, I'd often be the youngest in the dance studio.

I also didn't talk much, and yet I was ready to respond to her questions -- questions that never came. I didn't try to impress Elsa. My ego didn't need stroking, and she didn't look as though she wanted someone trying to impress her at the moment. I kept it simple and brief, and this after we'd just stood in silence for a long time feeling each other's vibes. Amazingly, in those vibes I started to feel that special connection but I didn't articulate it to myself until later.

Andy nudged me about ten-thirty and reminded me in a whisper that my jet was waiting at the local airport for a midnight flight to Milan. I did have business to attend. Leaving at midnight would time our arrival perfectly for a few day's worth of business meetings where I was buying a company that complemented two I had in terms of product line. I'd get their R